Fiction About Football Novels & Stories

"Seriously, Lena. Put those books down and come to bed with me." Heat flooded my face and I shrank back away from him. "No. There's no way we're doing that again, and I've told you, so stop asking." He grabbed a football from beside his bed and started spinning it on his index finger around and around in a perfectly balanced circle. I blinked. There used to be a time when I understood basically nothing about football, but even then I still had to admit there was something strangely attractive about him being so... Athletic. I mean, it was either that or I was losing my mind.

He asked, jerking me out of my thoughts. I chuckled softly. "It is 150 pages. I believe you can do it." "Thanks for believing in me. But, 150 pages is a big deal to me. I will finish the book in three and a half weeks though, depending on how interesting it is." He said. "You are unbelievable. You should try reading books. Reading should be a hobby for everyone." "You should try playing football. Football should be a hobby for everyone." "Football is difficult." I uttered.

He grins when he hears Isaac barrel his way back through the club. “Oi! I’m heading out early, yeah? You twats keep an eye on yourselves. Don’t cause any property damage! Mrs. Leslie is tired of handling it!” Callum poorly stifles a snicker at the chorus of agreement he hears from drunken footballers in the background. The property damage is mostly directed at Francisco, their striker from Guadalajara, and Joshua, their goalkeeper from Montreal. Somewhere between Joshua’s excessive height and Francisco’s excessive enthusiasm, they’ve managed to break a handful of tables at a handful of clubs, who were understandably less than pleased to deal with the aftermath. And god knows Mrs. Leslie does

On our very long trip to Philly, we’d discussed football a lot, and I could tell how much he loved it. “Trying not to think about it,” he admitted. “I wish I could’ve waited until the end of the season at least to do all of this, but it just didn’t work out that way. Guess I’ll live. Hunting Vampires is sort of like football. There’s just as much tackling, although, I’ve never ripped the head off of an opposing player.”

"Why football? Explain it to me." I gather my thoughts as Aiden manipulates my body and rolls me over so he can massage the backs of my thighs and lower back. "I don't remember how old I was. Young, maybe three or four. My dad worked long hoursyard work and things like that around the house. On Sundays during football season he planted himself in front of the TV and took the day to enjoy himself. I would sit for hours watching games with him. As I grew older, I asked endless questions and he patiently answered. I loved seeing the ball glide through the air on a spiral pass. If I hadn't wanted to be a kicker, I would have played quarterback." I turn my head and offer Aiden a small grin. "Foot

“Oh wow, have you never seen ‘A Question Of Sport’?” “Of course he hasn’t,” Tom answers for me, “he’s American. They don’t even have proper sports. They think the whole world plays baseball and basketball, and football is played wearing armour using an oval ball. Dude, rugby, dude! It’s American football for really tough people.” “I don’t really like sports all that much,” I admit. Mostly that’s been because Caleb liked to trip me up, and Imogen always managed to get herself onto the opposite team so she could whip my butt.

He was out like a light within seconds and slept without dreams, an unusual occurrence these days. Now he lay in an unfamiliar bed in unfamiliar surroundings wondering what would happen next. Football was his life. He could do without women before he could do without the game. So, then, why had he been such a ladies' man he got himself in this fix? Maybe he could pull the covers over his head and hide there until it was all over.

There's a good chance that she he doesn't hide his astonishment very well, which is why he seems so confident. This is the time left. Armando gives you a smile and a dimpled smile. "Yes, that's true." In response, Fabiana smiles, her phone still within reach and she can read Charlie's short text messages. As for text messages, she doesn't pay much attention to them. My life revolved around football when I was eleven years old. When I saw it, there was no reason why I couldn't reach out and touch it. Even if he was tired of it.

Sofia was bored as she looked around for something to do when her eyes landed on a magazine on the floor. Curious, she rushed to pick it up. Flipping through the pages she began to see photos of some footballers she knew. She also saw a picture of her mother on one of the pages and she beamed with a smile as she muttered to herself. “That's my beautiful and famous mummy.” She kept flipping through the pages until a particular picture caught her eye. It was a picture of her favorite football player. Excitement enveloped her as she read through the page which made her aware that he was part of the players for tonight's match.

“Now, eat and tell me about how you got into football again.” Surprisingly, his story was quite interesting. He had started playing football as a hobby. He was good but not the best. His father had trained him to take over his company but after his mothers death, he had thrown himself into football and had become a beast at it. He had gotten a full ride scholarship through his football into one of the best ivy league schools. Soon, he was playing for the NFL. “Whoa!” I exclaimed. “I know.” He said with an air of pride.