King of Trainers

By Pryderi Gwyn Jones

Adidas, Nike, Puma, Vans, Converse, Reebok ... This is a story about a boy who is obsessed about trainers. Yes, really!! He's desperate to own a pair of the best adidas trainers in the town's coolest shoe shop – Foot Locker.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gwasg Carreg Gwalch
• Release date: Dec 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781845245078

Book preview

1. The Wall

I walked past the shop first of all, and looked through the window, to see who was in there and who was working there that day. I like to know that before going in. The lad who thinks a lot of himself, or the girl who couldn’t be bothered about anyone or anything. Sometimes they were both there. Sometimes the manager was there, too, and then the two of them would behave differently, nicer.

It was quite early Saturday morning – about half past ten – when Mum dropped me outside the station. I’d scarcely opened the door and stepped out of the car, when I remembered a fortnight had gone by, and got my five pounds from her. The same amount as usual, though I’d hoped I’d get more, and my fingers had been crossed all the way from home. I know now that that doesn’t work. A fiver may be enough to get some lunch and something to drink, but there isn’t enough left to stick in my bottom drawer. Five pounds every other Saturday. It doesn’t sound much, but it’s half an hour’s work to Mum, in the place she’s working now.

It was the lad who thinks a lot of himself in the shop. I saw him standing behind the till in his black and white striped shirt, like an NFL referee’s shirt, in America, and talking on the ’phone. There wasn’t anyone else there, so it seemed.

I walked by and hung around a bit, looking through the window of the shop next door, at things I didn’t want at all. Big cards with hearts on, and teddy bears and balloons and so on. Then I went back to the shop where I wanted everything, that’s to say everything that fitted me – Speedlocker. I slid the doors open and looked up at the screen to see myself from the back, walking in awkwardly. A coat too big, with a huge hood on it, and I didn’t have much in the way of shoulders to fill it out properly. Hair like a bird’s nest on top, too, even though I’d damped it down first thing in the morning. I couldn’t see my feet at that angle.

See ya, mate, said the lad to his friend, and okay, matey? to me. He put his ’phone away, and in his pocket, ’cos he wasn’t supposed to be on the ’phone if there was someone in the shop. He wasn’t supposed to look at the screen or answer anything. I know things like that, ’cos I’ve been there a lot and I noticed. As usual, I didn’t answer, just walked past the coats and tops and the hoodies and football shirts, and go on my own to the wall right at the back of the shop. There are a lot of walls in the world – the Great Wall of China, that wall with the graffiti ‘Remember Tryweryn’ on it, and the Berlin Wall. But this colourful wall is everything to me. Seeing it is heaven to me. Hell is having to leave it without being able to buy anything. Ever. This is the Trainer Wall.

I knew they were there, on the wall, on a little shelf just out of reach. But I looked at the others on the lower shelf to begin with – black trainers, white trainers and some with black and white together. Then some for women with a bit of pink or purple on them. Then, higher up, some blue, some green, some grey, some mustard and some gold. And some more, in different colours. That’s when I caught sight of them out of the corner of my eye. The ones I’ve looked at on my ’phone for ever, read about them too. The coolest things I’ve ever seen. Adidas ZX1OOOOO.

"If only I could afford them. My blue Gazelles have lasted really well, considering how much I wear them. But the day before, I saw this tramp sitting on a piece of cardboard and asking people for money, and wearing trainers newer than mine. I couldn’t stop looking at him, and if Mum had been with me, I’d probably have got a mouthful from her. There were some people there giving him money and others bringing him tea or coffee and doughnuts. Doughnuts? If I’d been there all night, I wouldn’t have wanted blinkin’ doughnuts.

Which d’you wanna see today, boy?

The question showed I’d been there looking at things a few times, and he remembered me, that’s for sure. I bet he’d remembered the size of my feet, too. Oh, no!

The ZX1OOOOO, please.

I pointed at them straight away, and he got them down for me. I was trembling a bit, but just before he put them in my hands, he held them back and asked what size I wanted to try – 6?

Yes, 6 please. Oh, no! He remembered that too! Humiliating! My Gazelles are a 5 and when I got them, my feet were 4.5

Okay. Wait a minute. Have a look at these for now, then. Size 10, they are!

I’ve got a special way of looking at trainers. I don’t look at them first, come to think of it, but I feel them, how heavy they are, or how light they are. Then I sniff them. Breathe it in, the smell of rubber and leather and shiny plastic. The smell of the brand new. Then, every time, I look at them from the side, to see how symmetrical they are. Then I look from top to bottom and inside them. Turn the tongue between my fingers to see the logo and size and ‘Made in Vietnam’. Then I look at the grips and finger them. Then it’s a guessing game. Do they have angled soles, soles with straight lines across or soles with circles like little planets so you can change direction fast? Then the trainers’ toes. What kind of stitching is around their toe? Tiny, tiny, taut stitching that won’t come open if you kick a ball, or long, strong stitches that’ll come apart one by one in the end, and look a mess? Then the back. Was the logo there? Then there are different laces you can get, too. Some are one colour, some striped and some flat and some round.