To south-west London, where startling news emerged when Fulham’s Supporters Trust held its AGM on Tuesday. An awed hush fell over the room as Alistair Mackintosh, the club’s CEO, told an anecdote that left everyone wiping away the tears. On one occasion this season, Mackintosh revealed, Ryan Sessegnon had a doping test after a night game and by the time he was done everyone had gone, the kit man included. So Sessegnon took his kit home, washed it and ironed it before bringing it in the next day.
The story ended there, leaving us to speculate whether Fulham saw fit to frame the hallowed kit in the boardroom at Craven Cottage or offered to donate it to the British Museum, but it wasn’t long before people on social media were talking about “a real nice touch from one of the nicest kids you’ll ever meet”. Some called for Sessegnon to be handed the Nobel Prize for Real Classy Touches. Greg Clarke, head of the Football Association, announced plans to sell Wembley to Sessegnon. Word filtered through to Steven Spielberg, who immediately bought the film rights. “Never has there been a greater act of selflessness,” the director of Schindler’s List said. “I’m thinking of calling it Washing Ryan’s Privates.”
The hero in question could not be reached for comment after a whirlwind 24 hours. Partly because much of the previous paragraph is made up. And also because this column has come to the conclusion that asking Sessegnon about his laundry would represent a career low, especially when every other football writer is either penning a feature about Mohamed Salah’s childhood in Egypt or trying to find a room for the night in Kiev.
But this is where we are at the moment, gushing at the revelation that Sessegnon is capable of using a household appliance (just wait till you hear about the time he used a microwave without any assistance), and in reality this says more about us than him. There is, of course, plenty of excitement about an 18-year-old who has been brilliant and fearless during Fulham’s carefree charge to Saturday’s Championship play-off final against Aston Villa. Yet headlines about a man washing his clothes feel like a stretch.
Admittedly, speaking as a former teenage boy, I can appreciate why there will be parents dumbstruck at the fact that Sessegnon didn’t just burn his clothes after realising that the kit man had left the building. Even then, though, we seem to be reaching a point where so much information is there to be devoured that ordinary things take on a peculiar significance, such that news of Harry Kane’s appointment as England’s World Cup captain featured references to his brave struggle to develop a taste for fish, as though the 24-year-old father of one is actually a nine-year-old boy whose parents are trying to wean him off fish fingers.
Fair play to Kane for learning to appreciate the nutritional benefits of grilled salmon. But with Sessegnon’s washing machine adventure also the subject of much deeper analysis than it deserved, it was becoming clear that people cannot help but patronise footballers, even unintentionally. This felt misguided, not to mention a bit hypocritical given that I boiled a kettle that contained no water a couple of nights ago. Continue down this path and we’d be asking Gareth Southgate whether his players have sent out a message to the rest of the world by remembering to pack their shinpads for the school trip to Russia.
But righteous indignation at the growing trend of infantilisation does have its limits. There is another side to the argument and that became clear when the tale of Sessegnon’s hardship was followed by claims that Villa are willing to let John Terry, who is a 37-year-old adult, miss both games against Chelsea next season if Steve Bruce’s side win promotion to the Premier League, news of which brought to mind the defender’s ludicrous Stamford Bridge farewell last year.
Terry, remember, helped to arrange it so that he could be substituted in the 26th minute against Sunderland, which is reminiscent of the bit in the Dynasty reboot where one of the characters throws herself a lavish fake wedding, complete with peacocks luxuriating in indoor fountains. Nothing but the best! Even though, as one underling points out, peacocks can’t swim. Even though, as none of Terry’s Chelsea team-mates dared say out loud, walking off in the minute that matched his shirt number marked him out as football’s Mariah Carey.
Now our captain, leader and legendary party planner is rumoured to be thinking about a follow-up. Some players refuse to celebrate when they score against their old clubs, even holding their arms in the air to apologise for the grievous sin of scoring a goal for their current employer. Terry, however, could be about to take it up a notch. Having rejected offers from Premier League clubs last summer in order to avoid having to play against Chelsea, for whom he made 717 appearances across 22 years, he would be in quite the pickle if Villa went up.
Worryingly for all concerned, the final against Fulham takes place on 26 May. It is a sign. But fret not: Villa have recognised the gravity of the situation.
Forget about what would happen if they needed to beat Chelsea to stay up or what Terry would do if he ends up managing a team in the same league as his old club. Some things are too precious – like the captain’s armbands that Terry dug out of storage and shaped into the number 26. Let’s just hope he put them in the wash first.