All I remember was seeing Sydney FC striker Marc Janko jumping for two handed tackle at the ball. I couldn't move, I had planted my knee into the ground and the ball was touching my finger tips. Nothing was going to stop me from saving the final ball of game, the game to send Melbourne Victory to the top of the table. Then there was intense pain from my legs and I blacked out.
I was with doctors and physios for the next 6 months. I was given the bad news from the start, I was never going to play football again. I worked with the coaching staff at the club to work towards a coaching job when I was older and therefore spent most of my recovery time working my way up to a National A license. The form of the team slumped ever since my injury with my replacement keeper being an absolute bad omen.
We were at the bottom of the table when a final loss put us there permanently. I was sitting in my car contemplating the loss as I watched disappointed fans head towards their cars. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I grabbed it out to see that Anthony Di Pietro was giving me a call.
"Hey boss, what can I do for you." I asked.
"Hey mate, I just wanted to see you in my office if you aren't already on the road."
"Nah, I'm just sitting here in my car. I'll be right up."
I got out of my car and immediately a teenaged boy came up to me and asked for my autograph.
"Yea sure mate." I said with a smile on my face. "What's your name mate?"
"Stephen, I'm trying out for the U18 goalkeeper position next year." He said.]
"Great choice, I'll see you there."
I walked into the chairman's office and took a seat.
"Hey mate, how you going?" He asked.
"Good, good."
"That's good. Look how are you going with your coaching training?"
"Yea good, I got my National A's last month. What's this about?"
I noticed that Anthony had more than three cups of coffee in his bin with a cup full of one still steaming on his desk. It was 9pm.
"Look, Kevin Muscat has been sacked. When we went two nil down at half time I told the cleaning staff to pack his office up. He had a fit when I told him, but the board made its decision."
"****, that's a bit rough."
"Yea, he didn't take it very well." He cleared his throat. "We want you as the next manager. The board is tight on money and we need someone to come in cheap. This won't be permanent, but you'll have another job at the club."
I was speechless, but a managed a few words. "Where do I sign?"
I was with doctors and physios for the next 6 months. I was given the bad news from the start, I was never going to play football again. I worked with the coaching staff at the club to work towards a coaching job when I was older and therefore spent most of my recovery time working my way up to a National A license. The form of the team slumped ever since my injury with my replacement keeper being an absolute bad omen.
We were at the bottom of the table when a final loss put us there permanently. I was sitting in my car contemplating the loss as I watched disappointed fans head towards their cars. My phone buzzed in my pocket and I grabbed it out to see that Anthony Di Pietro was giving me a call.
"Hey boss, what can I do for you." I asked.
"Hey mate, I just wanted to see you in my office if you aren't already on the road."
"Nah, I'm just sitting here in my car. I'll be right up."
I got out of my car and immediately a teenaged boy came up to me and asked for my autograph.
"Yea sure mate." I said with a smile on my face. "What's your name mate?"
"Stephen, I'm trying out for the U18 goalkeeper position next year." He said.]
"Great choice, I'll see you there."
I walked into the chairman's office and took a seat.
"Hey mate, how you going?" He asked.
"Good, good."
"That's good. Look how are you going with your coaching training?"
"Yea good, I got my National A's last month. What's this about?"
I noticed that Anthony had more than three cups of coffee in his bin with a cup full of one still steaming on his desk. It was 9pm.
"Look, Kevin Muscat has been sacked. When we went two nil down at half time I told the cleaning staff to pack his office up. He had a fit when I told him, but the board made its decision."
"****, that's a bit rough."
"Yea, he didn't take it very well." He cleared his throat. "We want you as the next manager. The board is tight on money and we need someone to come in cheap. This won't be permanent, but you'll have another job at the club."
I was speechless, but a managed a few words. "Where do I sign?"