I woke up on my sofa four afters after walking Reiss home, I was late for football so there was no time for me to jump in the shower and change my clothes. I had enough time to grab my bag that I had prepared the night before, the team’s kit, and ran to the local cab office and I arrived at the ground just on the 9:30 mark. And would you believe that nobody turned up until 10am!

We were under the cosh straight from the kick-off and within the first five minutes I had lost count of how many times I had headed the ball clear, within the first ten minutes I headed the ball and felt a searing pain in my shoulder that I had felt before a couple of years ago when I tore my shoulder, because we had no subs on the bench, and because I didn’t want to leave my team mates with a man short, I sucked up the pain and played the rest of the 80s minutes.

It was very difficult playing when every movement sends vibrations up your arm causing you to double over in pain, I’m glad nobody was recording the game because I was running like a gay Forrest Gump with my arm held tightly to my chest. When the final whistle went I had tears streaming down my face because the pain was almost unbearable, I had to sit by the side of the pitch because I thought I was going to pass out.

Good job I took the kit home last week or it might have been my turn this week, how would I have got it home and my own bag with only one arm?

Photo by matteo canessa from FreeImages