I think my football career is proof of that.
When I grew up in Stirling, Scotland produced only two types of players: the dodger and the strong. You will defeat or stop competitors. These were the options available especially if you grew up in a village that relied on mining.
I was dodgy and I was fine. I wouldn't say I had a great talent. One day I came home to find that a Celtic scout wanted to contact me. My dad made him leave the house because he wasn't a Celtic fan. Soon things turned.
One game with a local team against a Stirling suburban team and we won 7-1. I went to the room to change my clothes, so this man came to me.
"Are you Jim Ryan?" This guy was Matt Busby's brother.
"We want you to take a two-week probationary period at Manchester United. Can you do that?"
"I'm going for a walk there."
Two days later, an envelope containing a letter and train tickets arrived at the house. I packed my bag and left. I arrived on Thursday, trained on Friday morning, and had a game on Saturday!
“What struck me the most was the way these English men spoke.
*strange terms*
I can't forget to be amazed at the way they speak and this very strange accent!