Tom’s replacement hadn’t worked out. We played our last gig and that was that. Then there was space. A lot of space.
Zaki I think was excited about a life. He was young and was excited about what was next. We lost touch for a while.
A depression that I had tried to suppress for many years really took hold now. At times it was throttling. I handled it in the same way as I had done up to now.
Sarb and I were defiant. We would carry on. So we started playing FIFA. Every day. With Vik in tow. I was obviously Liverpool who were decent at this time under Benitez, they had built a solid team led by Gerrard and Torres. Vik was Spurs… and, you know, they had pace and guile under Harry, but they were still Spurs. And for some reason Sarb chose Everton. The reason became apparent soon enough.
Vik and I chose to play using our team philosophies. Me, with a pass and move, built around Xabi Alonso’s orchestration, and Vik used the flanks cos he had pace in abundance with Bale et al. Sarb used Anichebe’s pace to bulldoze through the field and then pass at the last moment to score a cheeky goal. And rinse and repeat.
It frustrated the hell out of me and Vik.
It was fun. It was what we needed. After 6-9 months of playing, we figured out how to stop Sarb. And when he had been beat, devastatingly, he simply got up and went to the garage and started playing drums. Vik called him a baby.
Me and Sarb got working on Dragon a few weeks after.
