Tale 10 - The Greatest Love of All

Thirty four years ago, I felt I had it all.  

I had just completed my first year at the prestigious Carnegie PE College and had already played football four times for semi professional Guiseley. This included playing in the FA Cup, the competition as I child I loved above all others.

Then, on September 17th 1988, my world fell apart. A freak challenge whilst playing football left me in agony. Hours later I was in an operating theatre with my whole future on a knife edge. 

The operation was not a success. I had broken my leg, dislocated my knee and ruptured all of my knee ligaments. This was not the worst of it. My nerve allowing my foot to move up had been severed and was beyond repair.

The world at that stage was the most unfair place in the world. 

What did this mean?

The consultant was blunt and perhaps cruel. He told me;

“ You will not be a PE teacher. “

“You will never play football again.”

“You will never walk properly unaided for the rest of your life.”

“ Your chances of leading a normal life are one in a million.”

I was a low place. A nurse walked over to me when the consultant left, sat down next to my bed, and held my hand. She whispered to me,

“ The consultant understands facts. He does not understand spirit. I reckon you’re that one in a million.”

 Her words have stayed with me all my life 

I had a choice. I could accept  the consultants advice and gave up, or I could accept my limitations, overcome them, and fight like I had never fought before.

I wanted to fight.

It was not an easy fight. Lots of pain, lots of tears, but I had a determination to never ever give up.

I took a year out and trained every day.

Before my calliper was made, I used Velcro to tie my foot up, causing blisters and bleeding. When I did get a calliper it rubbed so much it removed the skin on my legs and ankles.

I was in a wheelchair for several weeks.

I slept downstairs for three months as was in pain lifting my leg up. Sleeping was hard, and I rarely got more than three hours sleep. 

I cried a lot, thought about giving up, but never did. Anyone who says “Boys don’t Cry” is an idiot. Without the tears I would have failed. I needed the release of emotion to get back on track.

The training, blood sweat and tears worked. In September 1989,  I went back to college.Three years after that I became a fully qualified PE teacher. In later years I rose to Deputy Headteacher, and was asked to apply for the Headteacher role - but that was never my thing. I wanted to take teams and run school camps, not oversee finances and curriculum plans.

I played football again 6 months after my injury. I started as a goalkeeper but that was not enough. I trained and trained, and eventually played again as an outfield player in August 1989. I represented and captained Liversedge at semi professional level, winning a CountyCup Final medal and player of the year in 1998. I played and captained Albion Sports, playing in a  National Cup  Final - the FA Sunday Cup Final in 2000. 

I was the first man to lead out a Bradford football team in a national final since 1911.

So I was cured? Not at all! 

I have not been able to walk properly unaided since that day in 1988. Ever since then I have had to wear a calliper and still do. I wear the calliper all day every day, even when playing football. Some of my team mates and colleagues knew but I preferred not to tell people. I wanted no excuses. I wanted to be the one in a million and I was!

The injury not only changed my body. It also changed my personality.

I gained a passion for fairness, both  for myself and others. I have resigned on principle twice as a teacher, once as a governor and once as a semi pro footballer! If I feel things are unfair I will speak up and take action if needed. I won’t accept injustice!

Without the injury maybe I would have been a better footballer, playing at a higher level. 

However, I do believe the setback made me a stronger better person. It gave me dignity, determination and the mindset to love and care about myself.

 If you don’t care about yourself the fight becomes impossible. I still can’t listen to “The Greatest Love of All” by George Benson (and Whitney Houston) without filling up! 

Rather than look back in anger, I prefer to look back with pride. I was dealt a cruel hand, but I fought back and I won!

My journey continues now as a house husband, and I hope this will help the Prince of Tales win as well x