Why does this sound vaguely familiar?
An undercover BBC investigation has exposed how young African footballers are being conned out of thousands of dollars. Gavin Lee explains how Isaiah Akpan fell victim to a Nigerian scam.
"The memory of that incident always kind of shocks me," says Isaiah Akpan.
He shakes his head as he recalls the gamble he took in the hope of achieving his dream of football stardom in the richest league in the world, the English Premiership.
Instead of taking the first step to sporting fame and fortune, he fell victim to conmen who left him penniless - stranded and alone in a foreign country.
The Nigerian 18-year-old lives in Apapa, a northern district of Lagos. Home is a small tin roof shack, where he and his two brothers share one bed.
It is a world away from the millionaire lifestyles of the Premiership stars, whose pictures decorate the walls.
Mr Akpan, like thousands of soccer-mad African teenagers, puts his details on sports networking websites.
Players as young as 12 post their pictures, e-mail addresses, phone numbers - even scans of pages from their passport.
The hope is that just maybe this will attract the attention of somebody with connections who will help them get a deal with an English club.
"Why most of us want agents is because they can help us; telling us what the clubs are all about and getting better clubs of my choice. Most of these agents, they are linked to clubs in Europe," he says.
What Mr Akpan and many other amateur hopefuls do not realise is that under British immigration rules, it would be impossible for them to get a work permit.
They would not qualify as they have not yet played several games for their own national teams.
Many also appear to be unaware that no English club would ask for money from a player they are thinking of signing.
And it is this sort of naivety which is now being exploited by crooks.
So it was not long before Mr Akpan was e-mailed by two men who said they were football agents.
They men claimed to be so impressed with his online posting that they could arrange him a trial to play for an English team. But at a price.
"They promised a club but did not mention the specific name of the club," he recalls.
"They said that I would have to go for a trial in Singapore in Asia. Then after two three months they would transfer me to UK."
Mr Akpan was told that as a formality, he would first have to pay a $500 (£250) registration fee.
He borrowed the money, the equivalent of a month's wages, from his father.
He then flew, as instructed, with the cash to the Ghanaian capital, Accra.
There, the two football agents were supposed to meet him at the airport and put him on a plane to his trial.
But, after Mr Akpan handed over the money, the men disappeared.
He was left stranded and alone in a foreign country with no money to get home.
"I was thinking how will I get back to Nigeria, I even could not pay back the taxi man," he says.
"I had to sleep at the international airport that night because there was nobody to go to, nobody to help me, nobody even wanted to believe the story."
After spending three days living rough, Mr Akpan managed to borrow the fare home.
When he did return, he said he was initially too ashamed to tell his father that he had been conned.
"To me $500, from a poor home, is big money. It was a very bad experience."
The conmen used the same techniques as the so-called "419" fraudsters, which usually target businessmen.
They are asked to pay considerable sums of money up-front, on the understanding of sharing millions of dollars of ill-gotten gains, which never materialise.
The victim is lured abroad before being parted from his or her money, to make it more difficult for the police to conduct investigations.
But despite his mistakes, Mr Akpan continues to advertise online in the hope that next time the offer of help will be genuine.
"I always dream of playing in England. But I know time waits for nobody," he says.
"That incident has not stopped me. I will keep on showing my details on the websites. Though I will be much more careful."