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What might have been..... (a short story)


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Thought I'd knock this up to supliment my long term Sheffield Wednesday story!

I think I can freely admit that I never really put my heart and soul into football. I was one of those kids at school who shied away playing out on the muddy pitch on a cold January’s morning, much happier having a game of basketball. Come summer time when all my mates were out on the fields knocking a ball about, I’d only be too happy to have a quick game. Only a quick one though, football never kept me interested for more than a few hours at a time.

Unlike all my football playing pals however, I always seemed to have a bit of talent there. When they’d knocking it over the bar from a few yards, I’d be crashing them in from the edge of the box with incredible regularity.

My dad was a big Huddersfield Town back in his formulative years, he even had a few trials himself as he loved to tell everyone. He never made it of course, and eventually he became a bit disenchanted with the game overall. So he never really pushed me into the game, despite the talent I had.

But at the tender age of 16, my mum sadly passed away. My dad, being the man he was, never particularly showed any emotion whatsoever and managed to keep the family together through what was an obviously difficult time. But money was tight. I found myself unable to stick with a decent job after school, and my dad found himself made redundant at only 45.

I found myself getting ever more frustrated with life as a whole, and decided that the only place to really convey the emotion I felt was on the football pitch. So I joined up with a local Sunday League side. It only took my two weeks to break into the starting eleven, and within a few months I was even made club captain, playing in the centre of midfield. After a mere season in the amateur game, Huddersfield Town came a calling and offered me a short term deal to see if I could prove myself worthy of a long term deal. Playing with the under 18 team, I found myself able to run for the full ninety minutes no-stop. The emotion that had been built up inside me from the last few years was gradually let out, and I found myself able to run no stop and never tire out.

Huddersfield didn’t offer me a long term deal in the end, but only a fortnight after that knock back, and after a week on the dole, Sheffield United came knocking at my door. It seemed that the League 2 strugglers wanted me to challenge the kids they already had playing in the centre of midfield. Apparently Huddersfield manager Gary Megson recommended me. Well with the money they were offering, I’d have been a fool to decline. So on the 23rd April 2008 I officially became a professional footballer. It’s here when I really found out just how much talent I had.

These other lads my age, who’d been in the game and had all the training in the world from the age’s of 8 or 9 couldn’t come close to me. They all hated me for the fact, but I was way out in front when it came to pure talent. The manager thought the same, when on the final weekend of the season he brought me on as a sub after about an hour. The nerves did take a bit of a hold though, so a few misplaced passes left me subject to a few groans from the crowd, and a slightly knocked confidence.

Come the start of next season I started right from the off as a regular on the bench. But a Phil Jagielka injury pushed me into a starting spot for a local derby with Barnsley. My first start, and I couldn’t believe it. The atmosphere was incredible. I think I helped when I made a madly crunching tackle only seconds after the game starting. The poor guy I challenged apparently had to retire from the game thanks to my over exuberant tackle. But nobody could bring me down from the high I was on. I nearly even managed to score my first goal when a half cleared cross fell to me on the edge of the box, my speciality. But Robert Poultar somehow managed to push it over the bar. I now had a feel for football. It started to grip me.

Four years I spend at United, helping them take their spot in the Championship once again. But at merely 21, and with my contract ending, I decided it was time to move on. I expected a move to perhaps a lowly placed Premiership to be honest with you, but to my surprise, the current FA Cup holders Manchester City wanted to sign me up. The jump in quality was immense. But I managed to hold my own. I started in the first eleven, and played the opening half a dozen games, including a derby with Manchester United where I set up the winner for Michael Owen.

But my career took a sudden downturn. In an away tie with Charlton Athletic, David Prutton and myself went into a 50-50 ball. It was rumoured that the crunch and snap was heard outside all the way back in Manchester. In agony I left the field of play. The doctors said that a year out of the game would be all it would take. They were wrong. 26 months later I finally made an appearance in the Manchester City line-up. Alongside Joey Barton I hoped to carry on where we both had started so well. But I found myself a yard behind the play. The pace, and quick feet that I was judged on had somehow disappeared from view. I simply wasn’t up to it anymore. I managed 5 more appearances, usually in the last few minutes before I was shipped out.

Huddersfield Town once again came in for me. With no one willing to touch with a barge pole due to my injuries, the Conference side Huddersfield Town were my only way of keeping in the game. At first, I was purely delighted at playing again and controlling games. But now I knew that I wasn’t anywhere near the best, my love for the game began to drop. After 5 years at Huddersfield, and at the tender age of 29 I announced my retirement from football.

I do think back to what could have been. What if I’d been training since 10? What if I hadn’t jumped into that one challenge? I might have gone on to play for England. Perhaps captain the Man City side that won the title while I was out injured. It’s all ifs and buts now, as now at 42 I find myself managing a local electrical superstore. What might have been eh?

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Thought I'd knock this up to supliment my long term Sheffield Wednesday story!

I think I can freely admit that I never really put my heart and soul into football. I was one of those kids at school who shied away playing out on the muddy pitch on a cold January’s morning, much happier having a game of basketball. Come summer time when all my mates were out on the fields knocking a ball about, I’d only be too happy to have a quick game. Only a quick one though, football never kept me interested for more than a few hours at a time.

Unlike all my football playing pals however, I always seemed to have a bit of talent there. When they’d knocking it over the bar from a few yards, I’d be crashing them in from the edge of the box with incredible regularity.

My dad was a big Huddersfield Town back in his formulative years, he even had a few trials himself as he loved to tell everyone. He never made it of course, and eventually he became a bit disenchanted with the game overall. So he never really pushed me into the game, despite the talent I had.

But at the tender age of 16, my mum sadly passed away. My dad, being the man he was, never particularly showed any emotion whatsoever and managed to keep the family together through what was an obviously difficult time. But money was tight. I found myself unable to stick with a decent job after school, and my dad found himself made redundant at only 45.

I found myself getting ever more frustrated with life as a whole, and decided that the only place to really convey the emotion I felt was on the football pitch. So I joined up with a local Sunday League side. It only took my two weeks to break into the starting eleven, and within a few months I was even made club captain, playing in the centre of midfield. After a mere season in the amateur game, Huddersfield Town came a calling and offered me a short term deal to see if I could prove myself worthy of a long term deal. Playing with the under 18 team, I found myself able to run for the full ninety minutes no-stop. The emotion that had been built up inside me from the last few years was gradually let out, and I found myself able to run no stop and never tire out.

Huddersfield didn’t offer me a long term deal in the end, but only a fortnight after that knock back, and after a week on the dole, Sheffield United came knocking at my door. It seemed that the League 2 strugglers wanted me to challenge the kids they already had playing in the centre of midfield. Apparently Huddersfield manager Gary Megson recommended me. Well with the money they were offering, I’d have been a fool to decline. So on the 23rd April 2008 I officially became a professional footballer. It’s here when I really found out just how much talent I had.

These other lads my age, who’d been in the game and had all the training in the world from the age’s of 8 or 9 couldn’t come close to me. They all hated me for the fact, but I was way out in front when it came to pure talent. The manager thought the same, when on the final weekend of the season he brought me on as a sub after about an hour. The nerves did take a bit of a hold though, so a few misplaced passes left me subject to a few groans from the crowd, and a slightly knocked confidence.

Come the start of next season I started right from the off as a regular on the bench. But a Phil Jagielka injury pushed me into a starting spot for a local derby with Barnsley. My first start, and I couldn’t believe it. The atmosphere was incredible. I think I helped when I made a madly crunching tackle only seconds after the game starting. The poor guy I challenged apparently had to retire from the game thanks to my over exuberant tackle. But nobody could bring me down from the high I was on. I nearly even managed to score my first goal when a half cleared cross fell to me on the edge of the box, my speciality. But Robert Poultar somehow managed to push it over the bar. I now had a feel for football. It started to grip me.

Four years I spend at United, helping them take their spot in the Championship once again. But at merely 21, and with my contract ending, I decided it was time to move on. I expected a move to perhaps a lowly placed Premiership to be honest with you, but to my surprise, the current FA Cup holders Manchester City wanted to sign me up. The jump in quality was immense. But I managed to hold my own. I started in the first eleven, and played the opening half a dozen games, including a derby with Manchester United where I set up the winner for Michael Owen.

But my career took a sudden downturn. In an away tie with Charlton Athletic, David Prutton and myself went into a 50-50 ball. It was rumoured that the crunch and snap was heard outside all the way back in Manchester. In agony I left the field of play. The doctors said that a year out of the game would be all it would take. They were wrong. 26 months later I finally made an appearance in the Manchester City line-up. Alongside Joey Barton I hoped to carry on where we both had started so well. But I found myself a yard behind the play. The pace, and quick feet that I was judged on had somehow disappeared from view. I simply wasn’t up to it anymore. I managed 5 more appearances, usually in the last few minutes before I was shipped out.

Huddersfield Town once again came in for me. With no one willing to touch with a barge pole due to my injuries, the Conference side Huddersfield Town were my only way of keeping in the game. At first, I was purely delighted at playing again and controlling games. But now I knew that I wasn’t anywhere near the best, my love for the game began to drop. After 5 years at Huddersfield, and at the tender age of 29 I announced my retirement from football.

I do think back to what could have been. What if I’d been training since 10? What if I hadn’t jumped into that one challenge? I might have gone on to play for England. Perhaps captain the Man City side that won the title while I was out injured. It’s all ifs and buts now, as now at 42 I find myself managing a local electrical superstore. What might have been eh?

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<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Peacemaker7:

Bit late now, but there is a 7 day rule on this forum which also applies to short stories.

You might want to read this: http://community.sigames.com/1/OpenTopic?a=tpc&s=21019056&f=97319217&m=8901976736&r=8901976736

Decent story btw. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Sorry! Didnt realise that rule applied to short stories too. Suppose I should do a little more reading of the rules.

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<BLOCKQUOTE class="ip-ubbcode-quote"><font size="-1">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Spav:

Good story. Is it made up or based on part of a CM/FM game? <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Based on my first FM game. I was the manager who took him to Man City and Huddersfield! He had a cracking record at Sheff Utd, and his stats were pretty much out of this world! I simply couldnt believe the constant stream of injuies he suffered. I took on the Huddersfield job after achieving pretty much all I could with City, and spotted him in the City reserves, and with quite heftyly depleted physical stats. I must amit, I didnt expect too much but he did a great job as my captain! Retired a little too early if you ask me, but I suppose the injuries all caught up with him again.

He really could have been a top player if he'd steered clear of that injury with City though.

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