‘You will never do anything in this world without courage,’ said the Greek philosopher, Aristotle. ‘It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honour.’
I thought of this quote as Bukayo Saka walked forward to take his crucial penalty for England on Saturday.
Short of an inmate on Death Row trudging to his execution chamber, it’s hard to imagine a longer, more nerve-wracking, tormenting journey than the one Saka had to make.
The last time the 22-year-old forward had to take a penalty for England in the European Championships, he missed, and we lost that final.
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I was at Wembley that day in 2021, standing 40 yards away in the stands, close enough to see the agony etched on Saka’s broken tearful face.
He was younger than my three sons who were with me, and I wanted to run out and hug him.
To compound his misery, Saka and the other black players who missed – Jordan Sancho and Marcus Rashford – was then subjected to horrific racist abuse on social media with vile trolls sending him monkey emojis, branding him the N-word and telling him to ‘f*ck off out of our country.’
It was disgusting, contemptible, and could have broken a 19-year-old kid.
But Bukayo Saka is no ordinary young man.
Born in London to Nigerian parents who emigrated to the UK as economic migrants, he worked hard at school, achieving four A* and three A grades in his GSCE exams at Greenford High in North London which was particularly impressive given he was also playing football for Arsenal’s youth team at the time.
His dad used to make him do his homework on car journeys to matches.
‘Bukayo knuckled down, and came out with flying colours,’ said Mark Harvey, his former PE teacher. ‘In terms of a sportsman: superb. In terms of a student: role model.’
I couldn’t agree more.
In fact, it’s hard to think of a better role model than Saka.
He’s tee-total, a devout Christian who reads the Bible every night, never gets into trouble and unlike many footballers, doesn’t fill his Instagram page with photos of mansions, Ferraris or expensive watches.
He is humble, respectful, ridiculously modest given his unbelievable talent, and he’s also incredibly popular with teammates who call him ‘Little Chilli’ because he ‘spices everything up’ with his infectious enthusiasm.
Bukayo’s name originates from the Yoruba language spoken in southern Nigeria and means ‘adds to happiness’, which is exactly what he does.
He’s become a hero to me and every Arsenal fan as much for his joyful, uncomplaining personality as his wondrous football.
And now he’s a hero to every England fan, too.
Someone who, as Gary Neville said, ‘transcends club rivalries’.
When I met Bukayo for the first time, at Arsenal’s Emirates stadium back in February, he was everything I’d hoped he would be: charming, polite, funny, and instantly likeable.
He’s the kind of guy you want your sons to emulate, and your daughter to marry.
He’s also got incredible mental strength.
Ignoring the penalty demons that must have been lurking on his shoulder, Saka – who’d already scored a brilliant goal in normal time – smashed this one into the net and ran away with a stupendously big grin on his face.
‘I have faith in God,’ he said later. ‘To come back from something like that is really difficult. Today I took the chance.’
In the end, as Aristotle said, it comes down to courage.
Or, as Saka’s teammate Jude Bellingham put it in more modern terms: ‘The stones on this guy man, some player!’
