Owen Hargreaves – The Movie. (based on a true story that starts here…)

“Ich bin feeling so rad dude!” bellowed Owen as he violently embraced his good friend Dimitar.

Yah!

With a knowing smile and a lackadaisical shrug Dimitar handed him the Champions League trophy and as he triumphantly hoisted it skywards the stadium erupted. He caught a glimpse of himself against the silver plate and pulled the trophy in tight to his chest as a solitary tear ran down his weary face. The camera from its position tightly focused on the tear panned away capturing the United players as they drenched each other in victory champagne. Pulling away further the camera revealed the United faithful as they continued their celebrations unabashed. Pulling away now even sharper the camera climbed to a height, skimming past the blimp, continuing its trajectory to face the unfathomable darkness of the night sky…

“And … CUT!!”

“Great job guys!!”

Robert Pattinson who had been playing Owen Hargreaves and Andy Garcia (Dimitar Berbatov) high-fived, Yeah-ed and Whoop-ed before shuffling away discussing where to go grab a bite to eat.

Just off set a lone figure seemingly oblivious to the fork-lift trucks removing the set all about him began to weep. Ron Howard played by Richie Cunningham from Happy Days, who had been directing the film, approached.

“Hey Owen, Owen? You okay maan?”

“Yeah, Ich bin sorted ta … just denken about zie awesome journey I’ve been on dude.”

After reading a fictional web blog post about how his life had been turned in to a movie in the future based on the true events that occurred as a result of reading said web blog post (this one, keep up) Owen Hargreaves whole existence had been turned on its head in the most unlikely of ways…

The phone hadn’t rung for weeks. Owen had been released by the club he owed so much to and his heart was heavy. The days became nights and nights became days. He muddled through somehow. Lost. Adrift. Alone.

Towards the end of July 2010 he received a text message from his old team mate and good friend Dimitar Berbatov;

Hi I Gt new deal lol waz sez u shd c dis http://176.32.230.16/bifurcated.co.uk xoxox

Although pleased for his good friend Dimitar, Owen wasn’t interested in seeing a picture of Wazza’s bald patch or more photos of Kai. He replied, ‘Gr8!! lol xox’ and rolled back into the duvet while throwing his mobile out the window. He soon drifted away, the only respite from the torture, sleep.

Die am I, dude?

Three weeks later after almost two months without venturing from his bedroom, Owen dragged himself to the garden for some fresh air and a quick cigarette (his new aid to pass the time). Once outside he took a minute to survey his kingdom. The numerous diamond encrusted cars in the platinum paved drive, the gold leaf fascade of his country getaway and the bronzed ‘friends’ who had been living in the Jacuzzi throughout the summer. He didn’t even know who they were. He didn’t even know himself anymore. He felt the bile in his stomach begin to rise.

“Get out! Get out!! Get OUT!!! SCHNELL, SCHNELL! GET OUT NOWWWW!”

With a look of horror and disgust on their faces the revellers hurriedly gathered their belongings, jumped in their cars and sped off down the driveway.

Owen calmly finished his cigarette and made his way back to the house.

Laying on the path as he made his way inside was a discarded tennis ball. With an almighty thwack, he blasted it into the wall. An old familiar feeling coursed through his veins. He repeated it again and again and again. He played until the daylight faded. With grass stained knees and sweat pouring from his tousled locks he suddenly felt alive again.

Ich love footy.

As he headed indoors again, this time to switch on the floodlights he spied the phone he had discarded all those weeks ago. He knelt down to retrieve it from its muddy grave. The message from Dimitar was still on the screen. His curiosity peeked, he ran inside and logged on to the mysterious site…

“Scheiße … I nicht know these dudes loved me so much, that’s top das ist” Owen said to himself as he scrolled down through the thousands of tributes…

For the rest of the story… of how Owen returned to United, insisting on playing for free and turning his back on the ‘system’. How he burned his belongings during a controversial talk at the following year’s ‘Marxism 2012′ in London and became a working class icon. How he endlessly and successfully campaigned to have Rupert Murdoch imprisoned for his fraudulent dealings and how in a landmark case he refused to allow Sky to profit from his image rights and forced them to paste an avatar of Richard Keys in stockings and suspenders over him during their coverage of United games during the 2011/12 season … I’m afraid you will have to wait for the movie.

So, this is the bit where you come in:

For the above scenario to play out in its entirety culminating in us winning the Champions League, you need to post your personal tributes to Owen Hargreaves below as a comment.

If Owen Hargreaves doesn’t return to United then it’s your fault. Do you want that on your conscience? No? I didn’t think so.

You may begin…