Back on the grass: I’m coaching again!

Just over four months ago, I sat on a hospital bed, typing out a series of WhatsApp messages informing various people of what I wasn’t going to be able to do for a while. Impending heart surgery will do that for you. I was surprisingly practical, but at that point was trying to think of things to do to keep the panic at bay. So those texts became vital. I wouldn’t be able to work for a while, I wouldn’t be able to see friends and family, I would possibly be even more grumpy and I wouldn’t be able to coach football.

The last one felt particularly desperate. I hated the idea of missing work, but at least there were plenty of people to keep everything moving and in actual fact, I wouldn’t be missed that much. But football felt different. I have twenty 13 and 14 year old boys in my squad. They love playing football and I take my role in their lives – however big or small that might be – very seriously. I was really going to miss what I do and I felt like I was letting them down badly.

Thankfully, several people stepped up and the team kept rolling on. The Great British Winter played a wonderful and some would say inevitable part in having games called off too, meaning that I wasn’t missing anywhere near as many matches as I assumed I would.

Fast forward a few months and I was able to stand on the touchline at games again. At first, just as a dad and then when one week, when there was no one else able to take the team, I stepped back into my big coaching coat and took the team again, being very careful to keep movement to a minimum and to stay as calm as I could manage! Since then, there have been a few more games and a bit more of an active role. Grassroots football has that effect; as calm as you tell yourself to be and as still as you’d like to keep, becoming animated at the very least, is almost inevitable.

I didn’t dare to attempt an actual coaching session though. Training would involve a lot more physical activity and simply going out for my daily walk was enough to tire me out By 6pm, when we would start training, I was worn out and staying awake watching telly was a chore. So, despite feeling absolutely desperate to get back out there and work on the kind of things we needed to try out in games, I stayed well out of the way.

However, I told myself that once I got back to work and was finding that I could cope with that particular daily grind, then I would make the move to get back to training sessions. It still wasn’t straightforward though, as I had to cancel two sessions due to firstly my health and then the weather. And then, with nothing else to stand in my way, I was able to get back out onto the pitch amongst my team.

We train on a 3G pitch in winter, which means that the surface doesn’t need to be an issue. There’s no danger of ruining a pitch for weekend games. What there is though is an area that appears to have it’s own micro-climate. Training is literally a mile from my house, but it is almost always about 5 degrees (at least) colder and blowing a gale up there! My first session back was no different and we also had some driving rain too! It really didn’t feel too good to be back!

I made sure that I wrapped up warm, practically mummified in about four layers, but it was still freezing cold when we got out of the car. I felt a strange mixture of excitement and nerves; happy to be back, but terrified of the thought of getting knocked anywhere near my pacemaker. My cardiologist had assured me that while it would hurt, I’d be ok, but it was still at the forefront of my mind.

It made me smile that my team seemed surprised to see me as I arrived. Those that were there early were kicking a ball about on an adjacent pitch, seemingly unaware that I would be taking the session and of those that arrived a bit later, several of them headed over to train with our Under 13 coaches, who have been looking after them for the last few months!

And then it was time to set up. Dodging flying footballs is always a joy when you’re trying to get some cones down or mark out a drill, but tonight felt a bit different given my circumstances. The thought of a wayward football smacking into my chest made me wary to say the least and it felt a little like the start of Saving Private Ryan, but with size 4 footballs and no beach.

It turns out though, that training, like going back to a job you’ve done for a couple of decades, is a bit like riding a bike. It felt wonderfully familiar and it was great to back amongst my team, pointing things out, making little tweaks to the ways they did things and standing back and having a chat to our other coaches while the kids did the work. Unlike what I remember of riding a bike however, it was absolutely exhausting.

At one point I joined in with a drill as one of our players didn’t have a partner, but lasted about 2 minutes before asking another coach to take over. It felt like I’d just ran an 800 metres at full speed and I was completely out of breath. The legs were like jelly and I was just able to kind of stumble off to gather myself a bit. Ironically, when I checked my heart rate on my watch – force of habit these days – it seemed to be the only thing that wasn’t out of shape!

I’d decided to keep training simple for my first time back. Not too many drills, nothing complicated that would need to be explained time after time after time and not a great deal required of me. We’d do a couple of fitness drills, a passing drill and then focus on having a game where we’d have plenty of time to stop and start and point a few things out when needed.

I tried to stand back and just watch but it wasn’t long before I was on the pitch acting both as a ref and a coach and while I wasn’t really running around, it still took its toll. It seems even with the restrictions of a new pacemaker it’s difficult to fight my enthusiasm for football.

Before too long the next team to train were arriving and we were wrapping up the game and packing up kit. Other people were kind enough to carry the bags, but as we headed to the car I was suddenly aware of exactly how old and tired I felt! Even an ‘easy’ hour had practically wiped me out and so when I got home, soaked and freezing cold, I was quick to take off my layers and get into my now familiar, post pacemaker uniform of pyjamas and a hoodie. After that, the evening was just about trying to stay awake!

It’s great to be back involved with my team again. When I sent the initial WhatsApp messages, I told myself that it would only be a few weeks, but deep down I knew it was going to take me a good while longer to be able to have the strength to get back to coaching. At times, just a short walk or staying awake has been a challenge, so it tells me that I’ve made significant progress that I can set foot back on a football pitch again.

A few days later, I was still suffering. My back and legs ached and there was a real soreness around the scarring where they put my pacemaker in. My heart was still working perfectly well it seemed – albeit with a bit of help – and I was still smiling That’s what matters most at the moment.

Since then, there’s been a little bit of a bump in the road and I’ve had a rough week. I had to cancel the very next training session, due to a bug I’d caught which has not been pleasant at all. I’ve been back to being extremely lethargic and breathless too, so it’s been a timely reminder of the length of the road that I’m on, so to speak. Certainly, one training session does not mean I’m fit and strong again!

For now, there’s only a day until our next match, when once again I’ll battle my urge to get too involved in what’s going on on the pitch! I’ll undoubtedly have to take it easy and am sure that the eyes of my nearest and dearest will be watching me like hawks. Still though, I can’t wait for kick off!