New York State of Mind
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- Apr 1, 2016
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Since I’ve been a boy, I’ve invested the majority of my time in football. At the age of 4 my older brother introduced me to this lovely sport and it hooked me instantaneously. He took me to my first live match, taught me how to play, and even helped me train. Because of this, I earned a spot in my local Hungarian club’s youth squad.
I rose through their ranks and eventually made it to the senior team at 17 years of age. Things were looking very bright. Some considered me the best young player, who would eventually lead the club to glory. I was honored and felt so lucky to be in this positions. This didn’t last long.
At 20, while playing against our rivals, one of the dirtiest defenders in the league slid in to make a tackle on me with studs up. The next part was all a haze. I remember three things: me looking up while my mates surrounded me, my right leg at the shin bending in ways that it shouldn’t...and lots of pain. It was clear that it was a compound fracture.
The doctors told me that my tibia and fibula were both broken and that I would never play professionally again.
Gutted. From the happiest moments of my life, it all came crashing down into the gutter. I recovered and two years later, tried to play for a professional team again but things were never the same again. I was never the same again. It was as if all the skills that I had had faded away. My mid-twenties were rough.
The love of my life, football(don’t tell my girlfriend), has been taken away from me. I felt lost but I knew that I still wanted to be a part of the footballing world. I talked to my old manager and asked if I could stick around to learn from them how to manage. They welcomed me with open arms. Even the fans seemed glad to see me “back” with the club. I was not on the payroll but I didn’t care. The opportunity to have unfettered access was priceless.
While learning from them, to make ends meet, I was coaching at local leagues. I tried to take what I learned and put it into action; it was starting to work. Shortly, my old club took notice.
They helped me to get a pro license and let me coach the youth team. My abilities as a coach began to blossom more and more. I learned all that I could there and now, it was time to get my Continental A licence.
The next step was to head to the UK where I underwent the year-long course and attended the residential study week at the University of Warwick in Coventry. Earning the licence was an honor. It was something that finally connected me to the game that I love so much.
With the licence on my resume, it was now time to get a job...
I rose through their ranks and eventually made it to the senior team at 17 years of age. Things were looking very bright. Some considered me the best young player, who would eventually lead the club to glory. I was honored and felt so lucky to be in this positions. This didn’t last long.
At 20, while playing against our rivals, one of the dirtiest defenders in the league slid in to make a tackle on me with studs up. The next part was all a haze. I remember three things: me looking up while my mates surrounded me, my right leg at the shin bending in ways that it shouldn’t...and lots of pain. It was clear that it was a compound fracture.
The doctors told me that my tibia and fibula were both broken and that I would never play professionally again.
Gutted. From the happiest moments of my life, it all came crashing down into the gutter. I recovered and two years later, tried to play for a professional team again but things were never the same again. I was never the same again. It was as if all the skills that I had had faded away. My mid-twenties were rough.
The love of my life, football(don’t tell my girlfriend), has been taken away from me. I felt lost but I knew that I still wanted to be a part of the footballing world. I talked to my old manager and asked if I could stick around to learn from them how to manage. They welcomed me with open arms. Even the fans seemed glad to see me “back” with the club. I was not on the payroll but I didn’t care. The opportunity to have unfettered access was priceless.
While learning from them, to make ends meet, I was coaching at local leagues. I tried to take what I learned and put it into action; it was starting to work. Shortly, my old club took notice.
They helped me to get a pro license and let me coach the youth team. My abilities as a coach began to blossom more and more. I learned all that I could there and now, it was time to get my Continental A licence.
The next step was to head to the UK where I underwent the year-long course and attended the residential study week at the University of Warwick in Coventry. Earning the licence was an honor. It was something that finally connected me to the game that I love so much.
With the licence on my resume, it was now time to get a job...