c19 - Buy a Car as Soon as Possible
Under Moyes' guidance, Vardy arrived at Everton's training ground locker room. As he walked through the corridors, he couldn't help but sigh Everton's facilities were underwhelming. Compared to Manchester United's Carrington training complex, this place felt outdated and cramped. Even United's youth training facilities were more modern.
Despite Everton's long-standing history founded before city rivals Liverpool—it still lacked the financial muscle and infrastructure of the top clubs. That was the painful reality Everton fans had endured for years.
Vardy didn't concern himself with these details. All he cared about was playing football. It didn't matter where he played or with whom, as long as he had the ball at his feet.
"Lads, I've brought in a good player—Jamie Vardy, on loan from Manchester United," Moyes announced. "David, I'll leave him to you." With that, he casually walked away, leaving the introduction in the hands of his veteran captain.
At first, there was a moment of silence. The name "Manchester United" had caught the players' attention, but their enthusiasm dimmed when they saw Vardy. They had expected a starlet, but standing before them was an unknown teenager.
After a few seconds, the team captain, David Weir, stepped forward and extended his hand.
"I'm David Weir, club captain. Welcome to Everton."
Vardy shook his hand but was slightly puzzled. Weir looked like a middle-aged man, far older than most players he'd encountered. Then it clicked—born in 1970, Weir was already 34, exactly twice Vardy's age.
If Weir knew Vardy was mentally comparing him to an old uncle, he probably wouldn't have been as welcoming.
Under Weir's lead, Vardy greeted his new teammates. Some were friendly, others indifferent. That was expected—he wasn't here to make friends. He wasn't a bag of money; not everyone had to like him.
But something felt off—where was Li Tie, the Chinese midfielder? He had expected to see him at the club. Trying to sound casual, Vardy asked, "I heard there's a Chinese player here—Li Tie, right? Great work rate. Why haven't I seen him?"
Before Weir could answer, Thomas Gravesen, the bald Danish midfielder, grumbled, "The old man has rotten luck. Broke his leg on international duty. He's probably out for the season."
Vardy nodded in understanding. Li Tie had formed a solid midfield partnership with Gravesen last season. His injury was clearly a blow, and Gravesen seemed to genuinely regret his absence. It would have been interesting to play alongside him.
"You're really only 17? That makes you younger than Rooney," goalkeeper Nigel Martyn chimed in with curiosity.
Vardy smirked. He knew why Martyn was asking. With his stubble-covered face, he looked older than Weir. He could probably play Santa Claus in a few years.
He simply nodded, not wanting to make the veteran feel worse about his age.
Martyn sighed. Born in 1966, he was 38—old enough to have a son Vardy's age. Playing alongside teenagers like Vardy made him feel his era was ending.
The rest of the dressing room laughed, creating a relaxed atmosphere. Even McFadden and Chadwick, two fellow young forwards, seemed more welcoming. In their minds, Vardy was just a 17-year-old academy kid—hardly a threat to their game time.
That illusion didn't last long.
On the training ground, Vardy's performance left everyone stunned.
"Did you take a shot of adrenaline this morning?" Gravesen muttered, his pirate-like scowl deepening.
His teammates wore similar expressions. The two young forwards, who had previously dismissed Vardy as competition, now looked uneasy.
Moyes, standing on the sidelines, had a smug smile. He had personally scouted and brought in Vardy—he knew exactly what he was capable of.
Vardy shrugged. "You know, I haven't even hit top speed yet."
His cocky tone made everyone want to tackle him immediately.
By the end of training, the defenders were glaring at him, frustration written all over their faces. It reminded him of his time at Manchester United's youth academy—where his rapid acceleration and unpredictable movement left defenders chasing shadows.
From that moment on, no one underestimated Vardy.
Everyone in the squad understood Moyes' tactical philosophy: defensive solidity and quick counterattacks. A rapid forward like Vardy could be a lethal weapon in such a system. It was only a matter of time before he became a key player.
McFadden and Chadwick now had a real problem—if Vardy earned Moyes' trust, their minutes would shrink fast.
Despite fitting in quickly, Vardy knew he wasn't going to walk into the starting XI overnight. He still had work to do.
After training, he hopped on his bicycle to ride home. His teammates found it hilarious.
Every time they passed him in their luxury cars, they rolled down their windows and waved with exaggerated grins. "Need a lift, mate?" they joked.
Vardy's expression darkened each time.
He swore that as soon as he had enough money, the first thing he'd do was buy a car.
Technically, he already had over £5,000 from his wages, but that wasn't enough for a decent car. If he bought a cheap one, his teammates would mock him even more. He decided to save a little longer and buy something high-end.
Back home, Vardy ordered a pizza and slumped on the couch to watch TV. The life of a young footballer was surprisingly dull. Since he was still under 18, he couldn't enter nightclubs, meaning England's wild nightlife was off-limits. His routine was just training and home—over and over.
The long evening made him realize he needed a hobby.
Maybe he should buy a PlayStation this weekend.
A true footballer's way to pass the time—FIFA and Pro Evolution Soccer.
The next morning, Vardy rode his bike again to Finch Farm, Everton's training ground.
It was easy to miss—strangely tucked between two residential houses, between number 94 and 96 Sandforth Road. If you weren't paying attention, you might mistake it for someone's backyard.
One of his teammates had mentioned that Everton was building a new training facility near Liverpool Airport, expected to be ready next year. The planned complex would include 10-12 grass pitches, a massive upgrade from their current setup.
But Vardy wasn't sure he'd still be at Everton by then. By the time the new training ground opened, he might already be back at Manchester United or somewhere else entirely.