Deejayseesee

Lest we forget.
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--- Tuesday April 6th, 2010 ---

"James, pass the ball!" exclaimed David Charnock, clearly showing with firm hand jestures where he wanted the pass. An ignorant James Johnson disregarded the demanding full-back who was in a much better position the striker who got himself into a whole load of mess. "Pass the ******* ball!" James replied with the response of "**** off!", and continued on his run into three opposing players. The first defender, a good build, brunette hair, the kind of guy girls would fall for, got completely flattened with a swish of Johnson's arm. The preceeding two were more beast like, and came at James at the same time. The arogant forward played it back to David who by that time had given up attempting to recieve the pass. What David Charnock hadn't noticed was that running from behind him attempting to intercept the ball was Jack Fairgate, who must have seen more red cards than 90 minutes. David to one touch on the ball, and before he could take a second, Jack had come in from behind, completely taken David off his feet and missed the ball.

"Where a..." asked David before being jolted up into the air. He could see very little, and what he could see was very hazy. There was quite a petite woman standing over him, well at least he thought it looked like a woman. He then looked down and saw this mask type machine placed over his mouth. He saw a sobbing figure sitting behind the woman, which according to David sounded a lot like James Johnson. The figure kept looking at David's legs, for no obvious reason at that time. David attempted to look down to see his toes but his vision was impaired due to the heavy-duty mask on his head. He slowly moved his right arm up to move the gas-mask to this side. At that moment, he knew exactly where he was and what had happened. Never would he play football again with the state his left leg was in.


..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock
 
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Your writing is brilliant, and a nice beginning to a potentially great story. I'm following.
 
You did a perspective story! :O

Apologies fellow Charnock, I won't be following, I'll probably still come and see how your doing though :)

GL.
 
Your writing is brilliant, and a nice beginning to a potentially great story. I'm following.
I will be following this mate, good luck
Im following this mate, no doubt about it, Cheers !

Thank you all.


You did a perspective story! :O
Apologies fellow Charnock, I won't be following, I'll probably still come and see how your doing though :)
GL.
Good to see you are interested and had a glimpse. As this is a Journeyman's story, I didn't feel my regular format would have fitted in well. If you are interested in doing at joint story with my previous format, I would be more than happy to do it.

..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock
 
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Thank you all.



Good to see you are interested and had a glimpse. As this is a Journeyman's story, I didn't feel my regular format would have fitted in well. If you are interested in doing at joint story with my previous format, I would be more than happy to do it.

..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock

You failed with the Blackburn one! :D
 
Good luck, I like the writing.
 
--- Wednesday April 7th, 2010 ---

David Charnock woke up from a very deep sleep, not knowing exactly what had happened the previous evening or where he was. They first and major thing David noticed was the beast of a cast that was on his leg. The cast was in a crude colour of black, you couldn't possibly miss it. It reached from about an inch or two up from his toes right up to under his shorts, which had been cut vigorously with scissors. Many things crossed David's mind, firstly the feeling of dis-belief, hoping this was all a dream and he would hopefully wake up soon. Dis-belief was closely followed by shock and terror as tears started running down his face and catching on the mask that was still attached to his face. A frightened voice came from beside the bed, it was James Johnson.
"I'm sorry David, truly sorry!"
"Why the **** didn't you just pass the ******* ball when I ******* wanted it!" yelled David in a lot of pain, which didn't stop him getting his point across.

"Excuse me Mr. Charnock, this is a hospital, not a pub. Less of the language please." said Nurse Watkins, who was tending to a rugby player who had dislocated both shoulders when some beast, must have been somewhere between Mike Myers in Austin Powers and a hippo in size and weight, stood on him when barging through his tackle.
"Sorry." replied David Charnock apologetically before turning to James. "See what you did there James, just **** off, you are the last person I need right now."
James complied with David's wish, got up and stuttered out, not without kicking the bin at the end of David's bed right out into the corridor, hitting the opposing ward's door frame and nearly tripping over the woman on crutches just coming back from the canteen. Nurse Watkins made the loudest tut anyone would have ever heard, dropped her head and finished tending to the screaming rugby forward. She walked like an angel, almost floating just above the ground, with her long brown hair swaying side to side every step she took. She retrieved the bin and returned it to it's rightful place at the end of David's bed.
"Now then Mr. Charnock, would you like the good news of the bad news?" asked Nurse Watkins, sympathetically.
"Good news, I guess," replied David followed by a large sigh.
"Okay then, the good news is you are able to go home tomorrow, if you're lucky, maybe late on tonight."
"And the bad news?" queried David, not actually wanting to know what her response was.
"The bad news is, Mr Charnock... Well, I don't know how to put this, but, you're never going to play football again."


..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock
 
This is awesome David, Proper good writing
 
--- Thursday, April 8th, 2010 ---

A crippled and struggling David Charnock was released from hospital in the early hours of Thursday morning, where he was met by a hung over, under-paid, obese, obnoxious taxi driver, who was too busy caring which pizza he was having later than helping the disabled into his hatchback.
"Weren’t you the bloke who got his **** kicked in on Tuesday night?" mumbled the driver, whilst emitting an awful combined odor of vodka and garlic.
David sighed, glanced down at his leg then directed his eyes towards the crest on the top right of his jersey, and replied. "That would be me."
"Ahh good, well you looked like a right bell end." said the driver, only closely avoiding the child retrieving the tennis ball from the drain that he hit too hard against his house wall and soared over the clattered wooden fence. David looked into the rear-view mirror and saw a acne-infested excuse of a man, which with no doubt about it, lived with his mother and 27 cat brothers.

The journey home was in complete silence from then on, apart from the ice-cream which always circled the estate where David lived. David could never understand why anyone would want an ice-cream, at ten to eight in the morning. The cab pulled up outside the gorgeous Edwardian cottage owned by the supposed bell end. The cottage was in immaculate condition, hedges in line, grass cut with a pattern, weeds no-where to be seen, spotless marble driveway, golden straw for the roof that looked so fresh it could have been put there yesterday and the blinding white building, decorated with potted plants around the porch. David dragged himself up the drive, one claw at a time, up to his front door, where a dull and damp letter was hanging from brass-plated post box. He picked up the gardening fork hiding behind the pot of lush lilies gracing the entrance with vibrant colour. David slashed the envelope open with the side of the work and pulled the pale blue sheet of A4 from within.
"No, this cannot be, oh god, NO!"


..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock

---------- Post added at 04:36 PM ---------- Previous post was at 12:54 AM ----------

--- Thursday April 8th, 2010 --- (continued)

David Charnock now had a little twitch in his hand, mainly down to the shock that had come from the letter he had just read. He painfully reached down to the brown and murky, cat shaped door mat and took the golden, yet slightly chipped front-door key from beneath it. He attempted to open the large oak door but it would not budge, not one inch. David fell to his knees and tears began to run down his pale, white face. He lifted his blood red sleeve on his jersey, to wipe away the water droplets from his eyes before accidentally knocking the potted daffodils to his side. A glaring shade of yellow caught his attention from behind the now cracked pot. He reached for the leaflet and read the bold Times New Roman words printed diagonally across the page. It wrote "Have you had an accident..."

A woman's voice echoed from behind the vast iron gates guarding the marble drive. "Mr. Charnock, are you okay?"
David dropped the leaflet under the dripping tap on the wall that he had been meaning to fix since last October, but the pipes froze and he never really saw the point at the time. He glanced up and recognised the face but could not conjure up a name to go with it. Then, suddenly, it clicked. "It's You!"


..............................​

Kind Regards,
David Charnock
 
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Keeping us all in suspense; I like it. Keep it up buddy, really enjoying it already.
 
Cracking read so far mate, keep it up.
 
Eagerly awaiting the next update ^^)
 
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