Chapter 448 The Story of a Ticket

The three of them sat on the sofa in the living room.

The house was brightly lit.

This house, which had been occupied by only one person for a long time, had finally regained some life.

In the kitchen next door, Cabreala was busy preparing dinner for the four of them.

Water was in the pot, the pot was on the stove, and the gas stove spewed out blue and yellow flames, causing the water in the pot to gurgle and steam to fill the room, dampening the air and fogging the windows.

On this early winter night, the whole house was filled with a warm aroma.

Chen Hero sat next to Samuel Mertz, with Dougal opposite him.

Chen Hero was extending an invitation to Mr. Mertz.

"I hope to see you at Anfield tomorrow, Mr. Mertz. Tomorrow's game is very important, and if you can be there to watch it, I think I'll be even more motivated to score. If you don't have a ticket, I can help you..."

Mertz interrupted Chen Hero. "I have one, Hero. I do. I've been a Liverpool fan for more than sixty years, and I buy Liverpool season tickets every season. I go to every home game, and of course, I bring my son's ticket."

Dougal frowned beside him. "Um, with all due respect, Mr. Mertz, I think it's better to keep the ticket at home, so you don't lose it again..."

Mertz shook his head. "That won't work, Mr. Dougal. My son's ticket is my son to me. I bring it with me as if I'm bringing my son to watch the game."

"But..." Dougal thought to himself, if he lost it again, how could he be so lucky?

"You can bring a photo of your son to the game, Mr. Mertz. Wouldn't that be killing two birds with one stone?"

Mertz was stunned for a moment, as if he had never thought of this before, and then he suddenly realized and slapped his forehead. "How could I not have thought of that!"

Chen Hero and Dougal exchanged a look and saw a hint of helplessness in each other's eyes.

In fact, the solution to this matter was very simple. But because the ticket was the only memento his son had left him, the old man's brain had fallen into a kind of inertia, as if only this ticket could best represent his son. But wouldn't a photo work too?

"Okay, I'll keep this ticket in the drawer." The old man patted the ticket in his hand gently.

Chen Hero looked around the room.

In previous conversations, he had learned about the old man's situation, a typical "Hillsborough disaster victim's family," even worse than most Hillsborough disaster families.

Because he was all alone now, with no one to keep him company.

Football had become his only spiritual sustenance.

Chen Hero suddenly thought of Steve Hartson, also an old man, also using football as a spiritual pillar, but he was still a little happier than Samuel Mertz, because at least he had children and a wife by his side.

But what about the old man in front of him? He had nothing.

Chen Hero noticed that the living room was covered with photos, or rather, all kinds of photos, big and small, were the only decorations in the house.

He suddenly became interested.

He pointed to the photos and asked the old man, "Um, can I..."

Chen Hero had retrieved his precious ticket for him, and Mr. Mertz would agree to any request he made at this time, so before Chen Hero could finish his sentence, he knew what Chen Hero meant and nodded to indicate that it was no problem.

"Feel free to look around, Hero!"

Chen Hero thanked him and got up and walked over to the photos.

It was a little boy holding a football, smiling happily.

"This is..."

"My son." At some point, the old man was standing next to Chen Hero.

Chen Hero continued to look and found that the main character in the photos was the old man's son. Most of them were single photos of his son, a small number were photos of him and his son together, and some were family photos.

He looked at a whole wall, and it was all like this.

He stood in the center of the room and looked around. He didn't need to look any further. He knew that the other three walls must be the same.

A tragedy had caused him to lose his son, his daughter-in-law, and his grandson, and now he had lost his old partner.

Chen Hero thought about it, in the dimly lit house, the old man sat on the sofa, looking at the vaguely visible photos on the wall in the afterglow of the setting sun, recalling the good old days...

That was what he thought—this must be the typical person who could only live in beautiful memories of the past.

But this time, he was wrong.

The old man's mental state was definitely not as bad as he had imagined. The house looked a little dilapidated only because he was old and didn't have the energy to climb up and down to take care of it.

The old man also seemed very excited to see Chen Hero. His idol had suddenly appeared in front of him and was having dinner with him.

After the initial emotional release, he now acted more like a fan.

While Chen Hero was imagining what the old man's life was like, he had already gone to the bedroom to get a Liverpool jersey and handed it to Chen Hero.

Chen Hero came back to his senses and suddenly saw his Liverpool jersey, and it was the latest model. He was stunned for a moment. "This is?"

"Um, I hope you can sign it for me..." Mr. Mertz showed a shy smile on his face, as if he was embarrassed to ask Chen Hero for an autograph.

He was an old man. He didn't have as much energy as those young people, who could often run to the parking lot outside the Melwood training base to wait and get autographs from the stars. In fact, he hadn't asked for players' autographs in a long time.

Chen Hero was surprised that the old man even had the latest jersey. This old man didn't seem to be as closed off from his life as he had thought...

"I go to every home game. My health isn't very good, so I don't go to away games. I just watch them on TV at home, but I definitely go to home games. I was in Liverpool that day, so I went. I really like the way you play," Mr. Mertz said, expressing his admiration for Chen Hero. "I'm not sure why you chose Liverpool, but I'm very grateful for your decision. I thought Liverpool would keep going downhill, and I'd take that despair to the grave. But your arrival has changed everything, Hero!"

"The home game where Liverpool won the league title last season, I went to the Shankly Gates to put a bouquet of flowers for my son and tell him everything that was happening here."

Mr. Mertz looked at Chen Hero, then at Dougal, and then smiled. "You must think I'm very pitiful and lonely living here alone, right? I was like that when I lost my son's ticket, but I'm usually not like that. I'm no different from an ordinary old man. Although football made me lose my son, it also gave me a lot of happiness. After my wife passed away, football became my best friend. As long as I watch football games, watch Liverpool games, all my worries will go away... Of course, I'm talking about this Liverpool team now, ha!"

The old man smiled a little embarrassedly.

"I want to especially thank you, Hero, because you've brought us a lot of goals and victories. Every weekend, when I see Liverpool win, I'm in a good mood for a whole week. I'm seventy-eight years old this year, and I'll be eighty in two years. I don't know how much longer I'll live, but I think with you on Liverpool, at least I'll spend my last days laughing. So thank you, Hero."

After hearing what the old man said, Chen Hero was very moved. It turned out that not everyone only lived in beautiful memories. Memories are beautiful and should be cherished, but the future is also beautiful and worth living a few more years to wait for.

"You remind me of another old man, Mr. Mertz. I think you must know him. His name is Steve Hartson."

After Chen Hero said this name, Samuel Mertz was indeed very familiar with it. He widened his eyes. "Him! I know him very well! I've always listened to his commentary on Liverpool games!"

Dougal was also very familiar with him. Although he was an Everton fan, Hartson's name was very well-known throughout Liverpool.

"After he had a heart attack, the doctor forbade him from watching any Liverpool games, and as a result, he visibly aged... Later, I told him that there were some Liverpool games that he could still watch. I guaranteed that his heart wouldn't be stimulated. And when he watched a few Liverpool games, he regained his vitality."

Chen Hero told Hartson's story, and both of them sighed.

They were both old people. Mr. Mertz was seventy-eight years old, and Dougal was already in his fifties. They could both understand that when people get old, they have to find something to rely on. Football, as a hobby that had accompanied them for a lifetime, naturally took on this important task in their later years.

After telling Hartson's story, Chen Hero picked up the old man's jersey and pen and signed it on the table. But he didn't return it to Mertz immediately. Instead, he said to him, "I'll take this jersey back with me, and I'll ask all my teammates to sign their names on it for you, and then I'll give it back to you. I hope you like this gift."

When he said this, Mr. Mertz looked very happy. "That would be great! Thank you, Hero!"

Cabreala walked into the living room and said to everyone, "Dinner is ready. We can start eating!"

※※※

After dinner, everyone was about to say goodbye. Dougal had to go home, and Chen Hero and Cabreala also had to leave.

The old man held their hands, reluctant to let them go. "This meal was the happiest I've had in the last two years. Thank you! Thank you!"

He turned to Dougal and said, "Mr. Dougal, you really kept your promise. Although you're an Everton fan, I'm willing to be your friend. I hope you don't mind that I'm a Liverpool fan."

Dougal stepped forward and hugged him. "How could I, Mr. Mertz? Our friendship has nothing to do with the teams we like."

The old man hugged Cabreala. "The food you made was delicious, young lady. Thank you for cooking for me. I'll have bragging rights for a long time to come!"

Cabreala smiled. "I hope you're healthy, Mr. Mertz."

Finally, Mertz looked at Chen Hero but didn't step forward to hug him.

"Score more goals for us, Hero. And win more championships. Liverpool has been hungry for too long." He said to Chen Hero.

Chen Hero nodded. "Don't worry, Mr. Mertz. Liverpool will definitely have to build another trophy room in the future!"

Mertz laughed when he heard his answer.

Amidst the laughter, the four said goodbye.

The two cars drove off in different directions, and the house was lit up in the night, looking so warm.

A Hillsborough ghost, a ticket, after wandering and encountering many obstacles, had finally returned to its home, this warm home.

This is the story of a ticket.