Snap, tear and pop: the agony of serious injuries

Apologies for the lateness with this week’s column, I was getting my ankle looked at. Without sounding like a warbling cry-baby, I’ll keep it brief. Five weeks ago I had a grade three ankle ligament tear. Basically, I was in an unconceivable amount of agony.

Anyway, the diagnosis is that my physiotherapist is still very concerned, telling me that I may have to go in an alternative direction to cure the problem as the ligaments clearly haven’t healed properly yet. Whatever that means, it doesn’t sound good, but it got me thinking – I’m in no way ever going to play at a decent level of football (those who’ve seen my not-so-silky skills can attest to that), but for those whose livelihoods depend on the game, serious injuries can signal the end.

Midway through the first half of Finn Harps’ heavy defeat to Cork City on Friday night, promising young defender Ciaran Coll went down in agony, clutching his knee (and the referee’s leg, because it was the closest thing he had to grab onto such was the pain!) and things didn’t look promising for the underage international.

Coll, just 19 years of age, tore his cruciate ligament last year and missed out on the bulk of the season for the Donegal outfit. His immediate reaction on Friday night was that it had gone again. Thankfully, for both the player and club it now appears that it was just bad bruising and there is no structural damage to the joint.

Still, each time he gets a bang to the knee from now on, the seed of doubt is likely to be there. Even for me, a junior league third division player at best, it has always been there when I get a knock in my now notoriously weak left ankle that has troubled me since I was just 12.

For League of Ireland players, there is no trip to a fancy American clinic for rehabilitation and there is definitely no oxygen chamber to help heal fractures quickly planted neatly next to the training pitches. Instead, for our local heroes there’s the same queue in our packed hospitals, the same wait on trolleys in corridors, wincing with pain while waiting for scans.

And then when the news is bad, it hits them mentally as well as physically. Those footballers we watch every Friday night aren’t wrapped in cotton wool like so many of the game’s superstars. They also have jobs to go to, mortgages and bills to pay and often a family to provide for. That’s why it becomes so gut wrenching for a player at this level to be seriously injured.

It was brought to my attention yesterday that a neighbour of mine, playing at a decent level in the local league had asked a photographer not to take his picture because his wife didn’t know he was there. Last season, he had picked up a serious injury and missed two months of work because of it. That left the family without an income and his other half was clearly unhappy. She demanded he retire, but since then he has been playing for a different club across town and fibbing to her that he is actually coaching a local underage team every Sunday morning.

So next time you see a player stretchered off, whether for your team or the opposition, think of the consequences for him on a long lay-off. Football doesn’t last forever, but one over the top, malicious challenge can leave a longer lasting effect. Be safe, because football can affect more important things in funny ways.