Tomáš Souček

Everyone was happy.

“Good job!”

But I didn’t get it.

Sure, we played in Manchester against City, one of the best clubs in the world. We had a solid game; nothing to be ashamed of.

But we lost 2-0. We gained zero points.

It didn’t look like that feeling in our dressing room at all. The lads were cool and the postgame feedback was positive. I sat there watching others and didn’t understand what was happening. We lost. This was the wrong way to react! It's wrong when you’re playing in your backyard and it’s wrong in the Premier League.

I had to process it all. I realized that I had come to a team with a completely different mentality than what I was used to previously. I came from Slavia Prague where we were our league’s leaders by something like 16 points, and even against Barcelona we were not stepping on the pitch feeling defeated.

We lived with the belief that you could win every game. There was always a chance at the beginning; that was our mindset. And we believed in our philosophy and proved it not only in the Champions League.

Was I supposed to be happy with a defeat now?

I was undressing after our game with Manchester City, my second start for West Ham, and my head was filled with questions like this. It was probably at that moment that I realized there was no time to settle in. I had to show what I could do, on and off the pitch.

We were playing to stay in the league and to achieve that, one thing had to change: The team’s mentality.

It’s not okay to lose. Even if you had a good performance, it’s not a good job.

It didn’t matter whether we were playing against Manchester City or someone from the bottom of the leaderboard. At the age of 24, I felt that I needed to inject my mindset and experience into the rest of the team. That’s why they bought me after all.

I often remember the words of Slavia Prague manager Jindřich Trpišovský, under whom I honed this view of my life.

“Eleven warriors will defeat eleven footballers.”

It may sound like a cliché but if you can fulfil this on the pitch, it turns into truth.

Jindřich and I have a very strong relationship and a very similar view of football. The team  helped me improve my strengths, to become the footballer I am today.

All this happened despite the fact that he didn’t want me on his team years earlier. One thing saved me. I didn’t cost anything. That’s what my story is about as well. My journey began before the first step of the staircase and sometimes I had to go a few steps back to move a little higher.

You’ll see. But before I begin, I need to say that the best things come with perseverance and patience. Don’t be fooled. Even I sometimes sat in the corner of our dressing room, trying to be invisible. I felt like I needed to earn my spot in the team.

That’s why I believe that it was not arrogant or overly confident of me to try and change the mentality of our Premier League team. It was my responsibility and I tried to accept and use everything I learned in football. 

The rain glittered in the artificial light and the cold crept under the jersey along with the adrenaline. This was a big game!

As the ball was flying towards me, I had to decide what to do next. A pass? A feint? Once the pass landed on my foot, it’s already too late to think.

I knew that I was up against a big player. I knew what to do with big players, I knew what to do with small and nimble ones. These thoughts run through my head on autopilot; I don’t have to focus on them. Plus, there’s no time for that. I try to improv. Here and now, I can. I have freedom!

I feint a move left, cut and move the ball right. The benches roar with admiration, I feel happy inside as well. This is football! I go on, prepare for a shot, and try it.

Goal!

Euphoria! A feeling I know and never get tired of. 

The guy could have had the name “De Bruyne” on his back. Kevin De Bruyne. But he didn’t. He had no name on his back, just a number. I didn’t know him, he didn’t know me. We played against each other in Hanspaulka, the Prague amateur football league.

We met in the evening, us after school, our opponents usually after work. The autumn part of the season peaks in rough weather and we didn’t mind.

“Boys, come on, let’s go!” I encouraged my teammates; classmates from the same year at Postupická Gymnasium, our high school, where we met and got together as a team for the seventh league of the competition.

During our studies, we advanced all the way to the second league, and we managed to advance pretty much every half a year.

Here among my own, I could be a leader. “Backside, your right!” I tried to help our defender with a play; offered him an option with a cut and tried to lead by example. Even in intensity. I hate it when someone’s slacking. Mistakes happen, but everyone has to come back. Even the biggest star.

In the evening, when I'd lie down on my bed back at the dorms, I’d replay that feint in my head. Adrenalin wouldn’t let me sleep, but it was fine. I was going to enjoy those feelings; they were so wonderful!

And later, in my dreams, I'd play in England. In the Premier League. Against De Bruyne.

The ball would come at me again and again and there wouldn't be any time to think. Kevin De Bruyne. Big guy. I would try a feint! I moved left, cut and moved the ball right.

And off I went!

Sixty thousand fans roared with admiration.

Once evening came, I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep in my London apartment, as I never can after a match. I’d replay it all in my mind and if I turned the TV on, they would replay it for me even more.

And that’s really the only difference.

Thanks to the guys from Hanspaulka I could match up against stars from the Premier League. Thanks to them, my dream is a reality. And I mean it – I learned football by playing football.

I tried to play all the time.

My dad and grandpa introduced me to football in Havlíčkův Brod and after some time it beat my mom’s handball. I moved from the goal onto the pitch and at that moment this game beat everything actually. It became my biggest passion.

Sometimes, I had to defend it. In our region, Vysočina, there were definitely more hockey players born than football players and when we were young we used to wage wars against each other. None of us would back down.

Sometimes, I had to cheat a little to be able to play. When I stepped on the field I had clear instructions on what to remember if the referee asked me. The instructions were twofold.

Name. Date of birth.

My registration didn’t have the name Tomáš Souček, born February 27, 1995. There was a different name for a totally different person. I apologize, but I was 13 and I just wanted to play with my friends from Havlíčkův Brod. To enjoy the fact that I was on a pitch with teammates who liked me. To share the happiness from playing football. To score. To be happy that they are happy, that we were together and that maybe I even helped them as I did many times before. 

This was everything to me and I got so little of it at the time. My registration was with Slavia and I wasn’t good enough for Slavia at that age. I was sitting on the bench more than running on the grass. That’s why I cheated sometimes. Hopefully, you can forgive me.

The thing is, I never really cared much about where I played. It was good enough for me just to play. We had a backyard back home where the guys went to play a bit before having a beer. I was always ready to join them if they wanted me. Later in Prague, we used to have the lights on the pitch before our dorms turned on until late at night.

I also played futsal back in Vysočina for a few years every weekend ever since I was young until we started winning titles with Slavia. Then the club found out and we decided that I should probably stop for some time.

But the passion for the game was always in me. I enjoyed it. I wanted to be part of the team; to feel the euphoria from winning together, be it at a small or big stadium. If you like football, that feeling is similar everywhere.

I’ve had thousands of fights for the ball. With older, faster, stronger, smaller, more nimble opponents. And I’ve learned everything I know in those fights, no exaggeration.

Sure, I’ve practiced in another way too. My dad bought me an athletic ladder to practice my motor skills and agility because I struggled with those. We drilled this on the lawn behind our house and it was important for sure.

But the game gave me so much. You always learn something new in a fight with an opponent, it’s always a new experience. No slalom between the cones can replace it. Each feint, each pass pushed me towards the one I might do one day at Worlds.

The best thing about it is the fact that each feint and each pass brought me the same joy; the same sense of satisfaction because there were many failed feints before the successful, important one. I remember those emotions as a kid, as a teenager and I still have them.

When I’m playing against the real De Bruyne.