It was a difficult decision, but it’s one I had to take for my sanity: I am coming out of retirement. Please – take a minute to get that fully on board and truly understand what I’m saying. Your eyes do not deceive you. Your brain has not decrypted this mish-mash of symbols to mean something other than what you think it does. Tomorrow afternoon (so long as nothing goes wrong) I will be playing football.
For those who don’t know, even though it’s one of the only stories that I actually have (or for those who just don’t listen), I suffered a HORRIFYING injury playing football in November of 2008 where I landed with my entire (considerable) body weight on my bent ankle and completely knackered the ligaments. Let’s see the actual match report from that fateful (actual) day:
Halfway through the half Sportsbeat’s midfield enforcer Ian “The Panzer” Dransfield flew into a 50/50 that was more like an 80/20 but flew into it he did, with scant regard for his own safety, only to go over on his ankle and scream like a little girl.*
As bad as it was, and as much as the doctor lied to me that I would be running about on it in just six weeks, I fought through the pain to make a triumphant return almost a year to the day after the injury. Unfortunately, I got kicked – by complete accident, might I add – on the exact part of my ankle that was knackered before. It was then… well, after I crawled off the pitch and attempted to cradle my (literally) bleeding foot – then that I decided I would have to leave behind me this profession I love so very much.
Not a few months later, Dean Ashton made a very similar decision. Coincidence? Yes.
So now you know why this is such a big deal not just for me, but for the world at large. With my silky smooth skills on the field I can unite countries, bringing people together under the all-welcoming banner of footballing glory and generally make the world a better place.
Oh, no, wait – what I meant to say was: I’m not very good at football, I just like playing it.
Expect an entry tomorrow about my re-re-fucked ankle.
*I actually didn’t write that, someone else did. Take a bow, Oli Jones.