JoshLegg21
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My Wildest Dreams, Turned Into My Worst Nightmare
The alarm went off at 6:30am, as if I needed the alarm anyway, I had been awake throughout the night as the nerves were getting the best of me. It was a Saturday morning, 9th November 2002, and I was due to make my debut for Chelsea FC against Birmingham City. The manager was prepared to give me a shot, after several good performances in the reserves, and with Eidur Gudjohnsen going six games without a goal, I could feel the pressure. But luckily, I was going to be lining-up next to my idol, Gianfranco Zola.
I grabbed a shower and sorted out my belongings, picking up my shoddy boots, as I left the hotel room. Before I got to reception, I felt a hand gently grasping my arm. "Morning," it was Gianfranco. I could barely believe my eyes, three weeks ago I had my mother drop me off to my game, and here I was walking down the hallway with my idol.
13:00pm it was two hours before kick-off, the nerves trying to get the better. I could feel my breakfast repeating on me, as I tied my boots up, and prepared myself for the warm-up. Stepping out onto the Stamford Bridge turf was the stuff of dreams, and yet there was only a handful of supporters here, in 2 hours time I was going to be stepping out in front of thirty plus thousand fans. We kicked off the warm-up with a gentle jog, shuttle runs, and some simple ball control. I was still pinching myself as I passed the ball to players like Roberto Di Matteo, Marcel Desailly, I was itching to get this game started.
14:50pm the team talk before the game was intense, we needed to pick up these three points today. The manager re-assured me, and told me he believed in me. My job was to hold the ball up, and introduce Gianfranco into the game as much as possible. With Petit and Lampard behind me offering me some support. We lined-up in the tunnel and the noise from the ground sent a chill up my spine, this is what I had always wanted, this was my dream.
The game kicks off, and I find myself up against Jamie Clapham and Matthew Upson, this was going to be a physical game. Frank played a superb ball to me, I got my first touch, controlled the ball superbly and sliding the ball through to Zola, with just a little too much pace on, I get a thumbs up from him. That settled my nerves ten minutes into the game. As I was getting my foot in the game, holding the ball up well, we were still level at 0-0 and crossing the half hour mark. Then, disaster struck. Roberto played a ball to me, but sold me short, it was loose and a fifty-fifty, I was determined to make that ball mine, as I lunged in so was Jeff Kenna. We both went in studs up and all I felt was a blistering pain coming from the lower part of my leg. Then, the dreading crack, all this happening in slow motion. I had suffered a break before, but I never remembered it feeling this bad. I looked down and noticed a part of my bone sticking out through my sock, and that was all I remember.
I woke up in a hospital bed, as I emerged from my unconsciousness I noticed Claudio sat beside me, with Gianfranco. The surgeon entered the room, to discuss the injury I had sustained. "I'm afraid sir, this injury is career threatening." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, this was my debut and I may never get to play again. The surgeon continued and informed me I had broken my Tibia and my ankle, with severe consequences, as my Tibia had pushed through my skin, piercing and rupturing the tendons in the process. This was the second time I had ruptured the tendons in my ankle, only this time the surgeon advised on surgery, and expressed his concern that the tendons may not heal fully to go through the rigorous fitness needed to play at the top level. That was it, my debut had lasted just over thirty minutes, and I will never be playing again.
I was determined not to last this effect me, if I couldn't play again, then I will do whatever it takes to stay in the game. I wanted to get my coaching badges, and with my grandparents living in France, I wanted to take a break in the process, so headed over to a place called Rennes. And progressed with my coaching qualifications, and in the back of my head, was the possibility of one day stepping out onto the Stamford Bridge turf once more.
7 years later....
In 2009, I found myself on the coaching staff list for the club Stade Rennais FC, after manager Frederic Antonetti giving me my breakthrough. I was so excited to help out at the club, and learn from Frederic in the process. The season went well over the next 9 months, with the club achieving a safe mid-table position. I was loving my time as coach, and had just completed my management badge.
Skipping ahead another year, Frederic had named me as his assistant for that year. With Jean- Marie de Zerbi resigning due to family problems. Here I was stepping into the number two role, and couldn't believe it. Maybe one day, I would be lucky enough to manage this club. The facilities are improving every year, top quality youth players pushing through, I was so eager to get to work.........
The alarm went off at 6:30am, as if I needed the alarm anyway, I had been awake throughout the night as the nerves were getting the best of me. It was a Saturday morning, 9th November 2002, and I was due to make my debut for Chelsea FC against Birmingham City. The manager was prepared to give me a shot, after several good performances in the reserves, and with Eidur Gudjohnsen going six games without a goal, I could feel the pressure. But luckily, I was going to be lining-up next to my idol, Gianfranco Zola.
I grabbed a shower and sorted out my belongings, picking up my shoddy boots, as I left the hotel room. Before I got to reception, I felt a hand gently grasping my arm. "Morning," it was Gianfranco. I could barely believe my eyes, three weeks ago I had my mother drop me off to my game, and here I was walking down the hallway with my idol.
13:00pm it was two hours before kick-off, the nerves trying to get the better. I could feel my breakfast repeating on me, as I tied my boots up, and prepared myself for the warm-up. Stepping out onto the Stamford Bridge turf was the stuff of dreams, and yet there was only a handful of supporters here, in 2 hours time I was going to be stepping out in front of thirty plus thousand fans. We kicked off the warm-up with a gentle jog, shuttle runs, and some simple ball control. I was still pinching myself as I passed the ball to players like Roberto Di Matteo, Marcel Desailly, I was itching to get this game started.
14:50pm the team talk before the game was intense, we needed to pick up these three points today. The manager re-assured me, and told me he believed in me. My job was to hold the ball up, and introduce Gianfranco into the game as much as possible. With Petit and Lampard behind me offering me some support. We lined-up in the tunnel and the noise from the ground sent a chill up my spine, this is what I had always wanted, this was my dream.
The game kicks off, and I find myself up against Jamie Clapham and Matthew Upson, this was going to be a physical game. Frank played a superb ball to me, I got my first touch, controlled the ball superbly and sliding the ball through to Zola, with just a little too much pace on, I get a thumbs up from him. That settled my nerves ten minutes into the game. As I was getting my foot in the game, holding the ball up well, we were still level at 0-0 and crossing the half hour mark. Then, disaster struck. Roberto played a ball to me, but sold me short, it was loose and a fifty-fifty, I was determined to make that ball mine, as I lunged in so was Jeff Kenna. We both went in studs up and all I felt was a blistering pain coming from the lower part of my leg. Then, the dreading crack, all this happening in slow motion. I had suffered a break before, but I never remembered it feeling this bad. I looked down and noticed a part of my bone sticking out through my sock, and that was all I remember.
I woke up in a hospital bed, as I emerged from my unconsciousness I noticed Claudio sat beside me, with Gianfranco. The surgeon entered the room, to discuss the injury I had sustained. "I'm afraid sir, this injury is career threatening." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, this was my debut and I may never get to play again. The surgeon continued and informed me I had broken my Tibia and my ankle, with severe consequences, as my Tibia had pushed through my skin, piercing and rupturing the tendons in the process. This was the second time I had ruptured the tendons in my ankle, only this time the surgeon advised on surgery, and expressed his concern that the tendons may not heal fully to go through the rigorous fitness needed to play at the top level. That was it, my debut had lasted just over thirty minutes, and I will never be playing again.
I was determined not to last this effect me, if I couldn't play again, then I will do whatever it takes to stay in the game. I wanted to get my coaching badges, and with my grandparents living in France, I wanted to take a break in the process, so headed over to a place called Rennes. And progressed with my coaching qualifications, and in the back of my head, was the possibility of one day stepping out onto the Stamford Bridge turf once more.
7 years later....
In 2009, I found myself on the coaching staff list for the club Stade Rennais FC, after manager Frederic Antonetti giving me my breakthrough. I was so excited to help out at the club, and learn from Frederic in the process. The season went well over the next 9 months, with the club achieving a safe mid-table position. I was loving my time as coach, and had just completed my management badge.
Skipping ahead another year, Frederic had named me as his assistant for that year. With Jean- Marie de Zerbi resigning due to family problems. Here I was stepping into the number two role, and couldn't believe it. Maybe one day, I would be lucky enough to manage this club. The facilities are improving every year, top quality youth players pushing through, I was so eager to get to work.........