Achilles Last Stand

Like everything else you do to convince yourself that you are still a young man -  when in fact the words “middle aged” had been an identifier when describing you for the last several years – it seemed like a good idea at the time.

           Prophetically almost, back in January,  I had Googled the words, “ Minnesota Senior Soccer”  and was surprised and excited to see that there was an old guys’ league in Blaine that would start in the Spring.  It seemed like a perfect  venue for 40 and 50 year olds to roll back the years, kick a ball, score some goals and most importantly, drink some beer.
    
          My wife of course was horrified; doubtless remembering  a serious knee injury that I had sustained 20 years earlier, again playing soccer, when  I was in much better shape and undoubtedly more flexible.   Other older guys play Soccer, I sulked, hoping she would support me in my quest to defer mortality and suspend disbelief for a couple more years. However she just sighed, knowing that I could not be persuaded to rethink this foolish course of action.

         Colleagues and friends were equally dubious.   Don’t come crying when you pull your first hammy, read a typical email response when I gave them the good news.   My step-daughter, who usually supported my efforts to keep fit, gave me a wan smile and told me to be careful.   I was somewhat miffed by this lack of faith in my ability to run, twist, turn, while controlling, kicking and heading a soccer ball.  They think I am delusional and I will prove them otherwise, I thought determinedly.

             As the season drew closer, I became more excited and cranked up the training. This consisted mostly of my regular spin classes at the gym plus intensive watching of the Fox Soccer Channel.   I didn’t do wind sprints, flexibility exercises or reps to strengthen my calf’s or hamstrings.   You can only train for Soccer by playing Soccer; I grandly informed all the doubting Thomases.   I brought new Soccer boots, shin pads and a shiny new knee brace and I watched Fox Soccer Channel with renewed vigor.

                So the big day dawned and I drove to Blaine with some apprehension and visions of scoring some glorious goals as the other guys watched in awe.  I was gratified to see that the other guys on the team looked – well like middle aged guys who liked to drink beer.  After a brief warm up we divided into two teams.  Someone threw a ball into the center circle and shouted ‘game on”. 

                It started so well. I was not as breathless as I first feared and had some good touches, including a guided header that elicited some approving comments from my teammates. Then I linked up for a neat passing move with another guy, got the ball back and slid it pass the goalkeeper into the net.   A few high fives and I was living the dream!    At half-time we move to a different Soccer pitch, and here things started to go downhill.      At first, I was back in the groove. Another goal was followed by a cramp in my right calf and I was limping slightly.   Run it off, was the sage medical advice from my team mate, so I struggled gamely on and actually scored a third – a hat trick   Perhaps I was destined to be the star striker after all. Take that, all you armchair critics who said I couldn’t come back at my age..

                Then it happened.  I was chasing a loose ball when someone kicked me in the back of the  left ankle – hard.  I fell to the ground, ready to protest this flagrant foul.  The nearest opposition player to me was an Australian guy in a green shirt and I glared at him, certain that he had taken me out. However no one on my team was raising any protests and they were just getting on with the game.
                I tried to get up.  My foot wouldn’t work properly and I could barely stand.  Had I pulled a muscle?   Cramp again?    I limped off.  A team mate came up to me as I was massaging the back of my calf.  Achilles problem? He asked   Oh no, I thought,  was that sharp pain and sound, my Achilles  blowing out?  Surely it can’t be……

                Two days later the doctor looked at me with sympathy as his fitted a boot to my swollen foot. You have torn your Achilles tendon he said.  It is a serious injury, he added unnecessarily.  

                Achilles Last Stand came into my head. Led Zeppelin song.  A reference to Robert Plant’s serious leg injury after  a car crash in Greece.  He thought he would never walk again.   I am scheduled to see the surgeon tomorrow.  Let’s hope I have learnt my lesson…….

We will see.

More from the Albion Bulldog shortly.