Best things for those who wait

Ricky Plummer could barely contain his excitement as the double decker bus inched its way down Porthampton's high street. There was such a bounce in his step he was sure someone had put springs in his shoes. Though he could have done with them, or a ladder at least. He wasn't the only one standing on the pavement dressed in his regimental blues and whites. Thousands of townsfolk were there for the same reason he was; to welcome home their heroes.
As the cheers and screams crescendoed like waves, Ricky desperately tried to push his small frame through the throng. He wanted to get the best glimpse, the closest glimpse he would ever have of his hero, Porthampton FC's prize striker Robby Simmonds. It wasn't as easy as he thought. He was so used to people avoiding him on the street, recoiling at his size and disfigured face it was a new experience to suddenly feel like he was invisible. Not one person shuffled to the side to let him in. Getting through was like trying to knock down a wall with a feather; completely impossible. Frustration and desperation built up inside him like magma in a volcano. He searched for gaps in the crowd trying any means to get to the barriers that lined the street. All he wanted was a passing shot, something to file away in his memory, something happy for him to relive if ever he was sad but as the minutes passed and the rumble of the bus engines grew louder Ricky's hopes faded. By the time he made it to the metal barriers the bus had passed and the glorious FA Cup winners were meeting and greeting others along the parade route. Ricky's heart sank. It was like someone had just ripped his soul from his body.
One by one the crowds dispersed, leaving Ricky standing alone on the street, utterly despondent. As dark fell Ricky trudged home, with cheeks caked in salty tears. The walk home took him passed Porthampton's stadium, but Ricky was too upset to even acknowledge it was there. He stared at the pavement, and chose to occupy his mind by counting the cracks as he walked.
"eight, nine, ten," he mumbled to himself until he walked smack into a towering, suited figure.
Contrite, Ricky jumped back.
"I'm really sorry," he said sheepishly and looked up.
Recognition was instant. Ricky's legs suddenly went to jelly.
"Umm, I, I, err. R-Ro-Robby!" he stuttered.
"Alright lad?" Robby Simmonds said with a wry smile on his face. He slapped the Ricky's shoulders affectionately before walking on.
Ricky had to lift his jaw from the floor