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Is this the way to Dom Pedrooooooo?


Nottingham Forest

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My First attempt at a story so here goes. I'm just going to edit this. All storylines of the real life people do not represent them in real life. So if I say. Joe Bloggs was a clown it doesn't mean he is in real life. Hope you understand.

Introduction

I had always dreamed of playing professional football, but with me now being twenty-five it was looking highly unlikely. I had been quite unfortunate in not making it. I was a decent youngster playing for the academy of my hometown club Nottingham Forest. I had always dreamed of scoring the winning goal that would get us promoted to the Premiership or clearing a ball of the line which would help us win. That’s what dreams are made for.

The Past

It was 2001 and Paul Hart had just been made manager. This was perfect for me as he was the former Youth academy boss. He had seen me play for the past year and knew what I could do. A couple of days after his appointment he pulled me over to one side and said with a smile on his face.

Look NF, I know you are a talented player and I know you were a rock in the centre of midfield and defence for the academy last year but I want to see how you start this season in the academy and the reserves. If you do well, I will consider letting you train with the first team and maybe give you a few games.

I was ecstatic, I was like a child in a sweet shop. Of course boss I quickly replied. In my mind I couldn't believe what had just happened. At seventeen years old, I had the chance to train and play with the first team. If I did well.

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People will, NF, don't you worry. Even if you don't get comments, it doesnt mean someone isnt reading. A lot of people on here like to have a good read of just about anything that pops up on here, from full in depth stuff to the less in depth stuff. I'll be reading, anyway.

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There is no threshold here for stories of quality. Everyone writes differently, and so will you. People will read if they are interested, but if you don't believe in your own writing, people won't take the time to read. Good luck Nottingham Forest :)

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People will, NF, don't you worry. Even if you don't get comments, it doesnt mean someone isnt reading. A lot of people on here like to have a good read of just about anything that pops up on here, from full in depth stuff to the less in depth stuff. I'll be reading, anyway.
There is no threshold here for stories of quality. Everyone writes differently, and so will you. People will read if they are interested, but if you don't believe in your own writing, people won't take the time to read. Good luck Nottingham Forest :)

Cheers guys. A quick question though can I post screenshots?

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I don't Know how. if i can insert links to the screenshots then, I will do that. If not then I will just review.

In FM, Click the FM button--> Print Screen-->Motepad--->Type a name & save-->open the file in notepad & copy paste:thup:

And gav does say links are allowed. Not sure

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The Injury

It was a cold Tuesday evening at The City Ground, where we were entertaining our fierce rivals Derby County in a reserve team game. The previous year we played against them when I was just in the academy side. We won. I scored 1 goal as well as keeping their star striker quiet for the whole game.

As we were going back down the tunnel to the dressing rooms after the warm-ups the Derby striker which I kept quiet last season, came up to me and said wait till we start the match. You *****. I thought nothing of it as carried on walking down the tunnel. We got our final match preparations and walked down the tunnel. I was raring to go. Excited, nervous pretty much the same as most games really but this, this had more feeling to it. It was a derby game. These were the games you were most looking forward to whether it be a first team game, youth team game, international game or in this case a reserve team game.

As we were running out of the tunnel I caught a glimpse of the gaffer. I was delighted that he was here. Not all first team managers take time out of the schedule to come and watch a measly reserve team game. Whether he was here to watch me or not, I didn’t care as now I could hopefully do well and show him what I could do.

The game kicked off and within 30 seconds I was on the floor, in absolute agony. I hadn’t realised what had happened at first. I thought it was one of those tackles that hurt a first but then stopped. This though was on another level. I was literally nearly crying. I didn’t want to look at what my foot was like. So instead I looked around me and I could see players turning away and looking sick. At that point I looked at my right foot to see it bent one way, a bone sticking out and it hanging a bit. I knew once I had looked down at my right foot that it was a nasty injury.

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The Hospital

I was rushed to hospital where I needed emergency surgery. I was in surgery for four hours. After I had come out of surgery, I had got a few visitors, firstly my mum and dad, then a few friends and then the gaffer. Whilst the gaffer was here, the surgeon that operated on me, looked in my cubicle. Here, I was hoping that he would tell me that I would be able to play football again but it was going to be a long process of getting my foot back to full fitness. With the technology that was available to the medical profession I was extremely optimistic. However, what I was about to be told shocked me.

The surgeon entered my came over and entered my cubicle with a gloomy expression on his face. I sat with the gaffer, who was doing his best to prepare me for bad news.

"Hello," the surgeon said in greeting. It seemed cold.

We nodded in reply.

Then he got to business. "I have some bad news," he added.

"What's that?" I asked. "A year out? More?"

"Even worse," the surgeon answered. "A lot worse, actually. I don't believe you will ever be able to play football again."

At that moment it felt like I had been crushed. My dreams broken by one *****.

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