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Anonymous Testimony 11:22 - Oct 19 with 1091 views

'Being a professional footballer at QPR is the culmination of a lifelong dream. My dad being dragged out in all weathers so I could play for my local team, my mum suffering under the weight of yet another sodden football kit that needed washing. The long hours in the car going all over the place for matches and trials: it was all worth it.

'I remember the day I arrived at Loftus Road. We took the Underground and walked the last few hundred yards, just soaking it in. I was finally going to be pulling on the famous Hoops, covering the same ground as the greats. Marsh. Bowles. Caesar. Ready? You bet I was.

'As I opened the door, I felt a crunching sensation in my shoulder and searing pain down my right side, paralysing me for a moment. The staff said it was probably nothing. I was out for *REDACTED* weeks and needed a wrist brace but even that couldn’t dampen my enthusiasm when I finally began training with the First Team.

'We had just finished the warm up and were listening to Julien Stephane outline the tactical drills we were going to run, when a plane went over heading for Heathrow. I looked up and instantly fell to the ground with crippling neck pain. Another player rushed over to check on me, herniating two discs as he did so, collapsing on top of me clutching his spine. The staff said it was probably nothing but I was out for another *REDACTED* weeks and came back in a neck brace.

'It was now just before the International Break, and I had been provisionally selected as a substitute for the Development Squad game against Bolton. I needed the minutes and, with Julien and Steve Bould in attendance at Heston, it was a chance to put myself back into First Team contention. I was bursting with pride to make my debut, as I came on for the final 25 minutes. My first contribution was to be a part of the defensive wall defending a free kick. Successfully blocking the powerful shot with my face, I eventually regained consciousness 2 hours later, missing several teeth with my jaw wired shut. The staff said it was probably nothing and I would be back in *REDACTED* weeks.

'Wearing my new face guard, neck and wrist braces, I was ready to get back to training. I don’t remember exactly what happened next but it involved the wrong choice of studs and a medium-sized cone. Either way, the staff said it was probably nothing and that the cone would come out by itself over time. As a precaution, I was given an inflatable ring to sit on and assigned light duties for *REDACTED* weeks.

'Returning once again, I found that training was a sparsely-attended affair. Several players were on crutches, some in bath-chairs with blankets over their knees, attended by their nurses. One even had his iron lung wheeled out onto the astroturf. We practised defensive drills for almost 9 minutes, losing 3 players to hypertension, scurvy and animal attacks before the session was halted. Two more players were lost on the way back to the changing rooms, literally this time: nobody could find them.

'I was now the fittest man in the squad and named captain. It was the highlight of my career so far but, tragically, I was struck down with a finger injury, sustained whilst texting my dad to say I was playing.

'The staff said it was probably nothing.'