What it’s like to move on transfer deadline day: My first-hand account

Charlie Davies was traded from the Revolution to the Union in August 2016.Tim Clayton / Corbis via Getty Images

As European football’s deadline day arrives, there will be some inevitable chaos — for clubs, coaches, the media and the watching audience. Trust me, as a player who has moved clubs on deadline day, that chaos most certainly extends to the players involved.

For the professionals who suddenly find themselves switching teams, there are countless emotions spinning through one’s head, and even more practical things that need to be taken care of — often all at once.

Fear, excitement, relief, disbelief. You’re trying to process a major life decision while your phone keeps buzzing and the clock is ticking.

Personally, my memorable deadline-day switch came in August 2016, when I was traded from the New England Revolution to the Philadelphia Union. It was the final move of my career and unlike anything else I experienced in the game.

People change jobs all the time, but this is different. There aren’t many professions in which you feel settled one day and the very next you’re on the way to a new city and a new workplace. It’s a complete upheaval of your life.

On deadline day, things can happen too fast.

What made my situation even more intense was everything that had happened earlier that year. My wife, Nina, and I had welcomed our twin boys home after a long and frightening stay in the NICU. I had also undergone surgery to remove a tumor and was just finding my way back on the pitch.

We had finally brought the boys home and were finding the rhythm to our new life. Every time the boys woke up to feed, we were both there. Nina had one, I always had the other. Even with training and games, I was fully involved, and that routine mattered.

We lived around 35 minutes from New England’s training ground, life was beginning to feel stable, and I didn’t really imagine a transfer would happen that summer.

Maybe that’s what makes deadline day so disorienting. How settled you feel? That doesn’t matter.

The day itself started normally enough. It was “Meet the Revs” day — an event at the stadium where season-ticket holders come to meet the players, take photos and get autographs.

Fans knew what my family and I had been through that year. I’d just made my return from cancer, playing my first game back. There was a lot of love in the room. I was at one of the last tables, still signing autographs, when my phone rang.

It was Jay Heaps, our head coach.

“Are you still here?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Can you come down to my office?”

A deadline-day move to Philadelphia did not turn out as successfully as Charlie Davies (left) had hoped. (Fred Kfoury III / Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)

That was the moment my stomach dropped. I knew there had been some chatter. I knew Philadelphia had been calling my agent, and I had spoken to a few players on the Union, who were encouraging the idea of it coming together. I just couldn’t see it actually happening — not with everything that had gone on.

I walked down to Jay’s office. Mike Burns, the general manager, was on the phone. They told me Philadelphia had made a strong offer.

Then Burns said something I’ll never forget. “This is the first time in my career we’re going to give a player the choice,” he said. “You can decide if you want to go or stay.”

It sounds empowering. It wasn’t.

In football, if a club really wants you to stay, there is no choice. The offer gets rejected, and that’s the end of it.

So I asked the only question that mattered. “What’s my future here?”

There was a pause. Then Mike said, “To be honest, we don’t know if you’re in our plans for next year.”

That was it. There was no discussion of role, no reassurance, no sense of value.

Given everything I had given to the club, everything I had been through and the fact I was the team’s leading scorer, it felt deeply disrespectful.

I didn’t take time to think or call anyone for advice. I didn’t ask the questions I probably should have asked.

I said yes to the move. After the call ended and Jay hung up, I looked to him for some sign of support. I was hoping he would then proceed to convince me he needed me, that I should stay until the end of the season. Anything to suggest it wasn’t the time to move on. But those words or even that sentiment never came, which confirmed my harsh new reality.

In hindsight, that’s the part of deadline day that stays with me the most. The speed of it.

A career-altering decision made in minutes, not days. There’s no space to breathe, no chance to step back and see the bigger picture. You’re reacting, not choosing.

I got in my car and called Nina. “We’re moving to Philadelphia,” I said.

Earnie Stewart, then the sporting director at Philadelphia, made an early impression on Charlie Davies. (John Dorton / ISI Photos / Getty Images)

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. This was the first she’d heard of it. I explained everything as best I could — that I felt unwanted and that financially and professionally it made sense.

Almost immediately after that call, Union coach Jim Curtin rang me. He told me how excited he was to have me. He told me I was coming to play. That mattered, because I had made it clear to my agent beforehand that if I was moving, I wasn’t going to be a depth piece.

The next 48 hours were a blur. I was traded midweek and flew to Philadelphia the next day with a couple of bags, knowing I might be asked to play almost immediately.

I didn’t have a place to live. My family was still in New England. I didn’t know the training schedule, the expectations or how my body would respond.

What I did notice straightaway was a big gesture. Earnie Stewart, the sporting director, picked me up at the airport himself. It was a small thing but carried weight. It made me feel wanted.

The club put me up in a hotel and started helping me look for somewhere to live. They arranged viewings and drove me around the city, and those practical details matter more than people realize when your life is being turned upside down.

On the football side, there was no easing-in period, though. I had, maybe, one training session before we were on the road to play DC United. I came off the bench. Emotionally, I wasn’t ready. Physically, I was still catching up. But that’s deadline-day football. You just go with it.

The following week, we played in New England of all places. I didn’t start but we won comfortably. And when I came on, the fans cheered. I went over to the supporters section — the Midnight Riders — and had that moment of acknowledgement and closure. It meant a lot.

Charlie Davies was a firm fan favorite in New England before his trade to Philadelphia. (Fred Kfoury III / Icon Sportswire via Getty Images)

Meanwhile, Nina drove to Philadelphia with her parents and the boys. To be honest, my first impression of the city wasn’t good. Philadelphia had always felt a bit rough around the edges to me. I remember walking the streets on my own, trying to convince myself this was the right move.

I’d chosen an apartment in downtown Philly, right near Independence Hall. A new teammate and friend, Chris Pontius, lived in the same building. That first night as a family in a new city should have been calm.

Instead, Nina’s first impression of Philadelphia involved seeing two people having sex in public right outside the entrance to our building. I will never forget the look she gave me. You couldn’t make it up!

Looking back now, I can say that if I’d had more time, I might not have gone. Not because Philadelphia was the wrong club or the wrong people, but because I didn’t ask enough questions.

I was falling behind because of the intensity of the training schedule, which didn’t suit my personal situation. I hadn’t spoken directly to the coach beforehand. I didn’t ask what “coming to play” really meant. How would my body be managed? What were the day-to-day demands?

Everything was rushed. And when things are rushed, context gets lost.

Also, I had not joined for financial reasons, but after I signed I had been expecting a certain salary to follow from the end of that first season. I was later told that would not be happening.

That’s the reality of deadline day. It’s dramatic and emotional, and often framed as exciting. But behind the scenes, it’s messy. Decisions are made under pressure. Families are dragged along. And sometimes, by the time you realize what you should have asked, you’re already on the plane.

If I had my time again, I would have waited. I would have finished the season. I would have moved in the offseason, with a fresh preseason, a clear plan and more stability for my family.

Because on transfer-deadline day, you don’t really decide your future — you ride the moment and live with the consequences.