Although the season was still young, the questions had become painfully repetitive: Did you make the right decision signing with MLS? Do you feel you can play at this level? Are you frustrated not starting? How do you get to practice every day? Do you have a girlfriend?
Adu answered every question with patience, grace and sly humor that belies his age before dashing off to join his teammates.
Adu, with his arm around Ray Trifari, D.C. United's director of team administration, draws a crowd as he exits the tunnel for an exhibition game in Rochester, N.Y., where 14,000 turned out.
(Kevin Clark -- The Washington Post)
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On game day, the team arrived at the stadium about 90 minutes before kickoff. While most of his teammates inspected the field or began stretching, Adu was ushered to the far corner of the stadium to film a video-game commercial with Earthquakes star Landon Donovan, U.S. soccer's previous teenage idol.
When the starting lineups were distributed, Adu was on it for the first time. Coach Peter Nowak, who hadn't bowed to pressure to start Adu, said he felt it was time to give his young player a bigger role. Adu had a decent game, nothing spectacular, as the teams played to a 1-1 tie.
"Oh, man, I was so happy," he told 20 reporters in a small, open-ended tent erected between the locker rooms and a cluster of fans chanting his name from behind temporary fences and a line of beefy security guards.
But Adu's postgame activities weren't limited to media and autograph responsibilities. He and a few other players from both teams went to a private area to meet a terminally ill fan who was flown in from Idaho. Next for Adu was a chat with former Olympic runner Michael Johnson and his family, who had come to see him play.
His teammates boarded the bus, but Adu stayed behind for a formal autograph session set up by the Earthquakes. An hour later, he finally left the stadium.
Adu generally enjoys making appearances and interacting with the fans, but admits he sometimes feels the strain. "You've always got something to do," he said. "I don't always necessarily like it, but you've got to do it. It takes a lot out of you."
The demands on that weekend were just beginning. After a red-eye flight from San Jose to Washington and a much-needed day off, United was back at work Monday morning. Following practice, while his teammates went their separate ways, Adu and his mother, Emelia, headed to the airport. Destination: Manhattan.
The scene that night was a historic ballroom a few blocks from Times Square. The event was a glitzy party held by a publishing conglomerate and a foreign automaker. Bubbly music, chic hors d'oeuvre and paparazzi greeted the thousand or so guests on the cool, rainy evening. David Bowie was backstage preparing to play. William H. Macy, the actor, arrived, as did stars from "The Sopranos," recording artist Moby, fashion models and New York hipsters.
In one corner, behind a tall, curved curtain, Adu was surrounded by soccer memorabilia and an endless video loop highlighting his finest moments as a youth national team player. He was flanked by his mother; his Los Angeles-based agent, Richard Motzkin; United's head of communications, Doug Hicks; and a collection of public relations specialists and event coordinators.
Adu, along with Bowie, Macy and Iranian-born author Azar Nafisi, was being honored as part of an Audi marketing campaign.
Adu had never heard of the 57-year-old Bowie. Neither had his mother. Garber told Adu just before the concert started, "You might not appreciate this now, Freddy, but one day you'll be able to say you saw David Bowie in concert." Adu, a fan of rap and hip-hop, nodded appreciatively.
He seemed to be having a good time, sipping on water and greeting all sorts of well-dressed strangers, but it had been a long day and practice was only 12 hours away. So as Bowie's 45-minute set neared an end, Adu and his mother ducked out of the party and returned to their hotel.
