Category: Sport

Turning Points: The Road to Recovery

Today, my body hurts almost more than ever. There’s a dull ache almost everywhere, except for my pacemaker scarring and the area around it. That’s really very sore and it feels like almost every movement on my left side makes me wince.

It’s all OK though, because that dull ache, the fatigue I feel and the way my brain seems to be telling my eyes to just close is just the result of another turning point in my recovery. I’ll explain later on why I feel so rough.

It’s been just over 7 months since my surgery and while there have been setbacks that have brought me crashing back down to Earth, there have been some notable turning points that have told me that everything is going in the right direction. A lot of negatives, but enough positives to keep me going.

The first one was actually getting out of hospital. Whatever the reason for being in hospital, I think you automatically feel a little bit better when you’re back at home. The familiarity of it all, the good will and love of family and friends will give you a certain air of contentment, however your body feels.

It took me a couple of days before I felt strong enough to go out for a walk and we only went a very short way, but the sense of achievement was more than enough to make it feel like a big turning point. I wasn’t just lying in bed, feeling sorry for myself; I was trying to recover, trying to get stronger and fitter and I knew that this was exactly what I had to do for every day that I was at home and away from work. From day one I was determined to get well.

My next turning point was accepting that what had happened – having to have a pacemaker fitted – was quite a big deal. However, despite the fact that I was struggling to feel remotely alive, I was sure that the operation was just routine and that it was more my age that was holding me back. A few people had to sit me down and have a bit of a word before I was able to take in exactly how serious things had been. Coming to terms with it all has been a huge factor in beginning to feel anywhere near my old self again.

Heading back to work after 4 months off was part of this. All of my friends and colleagues were very kind, checking up on me, letting me know that I’d been missed and that it was great to see me back. I didn’t believe any of them when they told me that I looked well, but that’s another story! However, getting back into the routine of work and seeing that I could still do everything that was necessary to be a high school teacher was a definite turning point and something that helped pick my confidence up from the basement level where it had been previously residing for 4 months!

The first major turning point in recovery was visiting friends in Toronto in April. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but suddenly I felt a lot better about everything. It was of course wonderful to see our friends – Andy and Kim and their kids, Hannah Mae and Benji – but still I can’t say exactly what made me feel so much better. Perhaps it was simply seeing such brilliant people again? Perhaps, the knowledge that I was capable of heading to the other side of the world and being on the go all day, every day? Or perhaps it was just the freedom of it all and the fact that I enjoyed everything so much? After all, they say that laughter is good for the soul, don’t they? Whatever it was, my body felt lighter when I returned and my mood had very definitely changed.

Top 10 Toronto: Some highlights of our trip.

Running again has definitely helped me turn a corner. I ran a 10k race in May – my first in almost 8 months – and it proved to me that my body was capable of more than I’d dared to imagine. Even going out on short runs had been a boost. However, the biggest turning point so far came on Sunday just gone and it’s the aforementioned reason why my body aches so much this week.

On Sunday 18th June, I ran the Leeds 10k and proved a lot of things to myself. It told me that my body is inching towards being better, fitter and stronger, although I’m already aware that it’s going to be possibly another 6 months before I reach the kind of condition that I’d been in before my surgery.

I won’t bore you with the minutiae of the race, but I can tell you that it felt like I did well. ‘Well’ that is, in the context of being a 51-year-old man just over 7 months out from heart surgery! This was only my second 10k run since October last year, but my best time since then too. Strava keeps reminding me that I was averaging around 52 minutes for the distance last year, but my one previous effort this year had been completed in a fraction under an hour. So, to achieve a time of 56.54 on Sunday felt like winning the lottery.

For weeks I’ve felt down about the times I’ve been posting when out on runs. I’ve had numerous setbacks and had to rest for weeks too, which has made me feel really low. So completing the course in 56 minutes felt good! A friend has repeatedly told me that times don’t matter, but being as stubborn as I am, I just haven’t been able to ignore that clock!

There was also the fact of how my body felt on the run itself. Apart from one short lived, but very tired spell in the final kilometre, I felt very good (again, in the context outlined earlier!). I felt light and strong, which I’ve not felt all year. Runs have felt like I’m heavy and plodding, dragging myself around my routes. It’s felt like no fun at all and and yet on Sunday it was an absolute joy to be out on the roads and not feel the energy drain from my body at any point. I kept telling myself to relax, reminding myself when to lengthen my stride and when to shorten it for uphill stretches. Most of all though, I kept reminding myself to just keep going! I hadn’t managed a full 10k in training and so that made me slightly nervous, although I knew deep down that I wouldn’t stop until I crossed that line! But for almost the whole 10k, I felt completely in control.

Without doubt, this was a massive turning point in my recovery so far. Without sounding too dramatic, but while also trying to simply tell the truth, it was one of only a handful of times in the last 7 months when it’s felt truly wonderful to be alive. The payback has been how badly my body has taken it! My efforts have really worn me out and for the first couple of days afterwards, it was tough just to get through the day. However, I’m confident that will pass. Anyone’s body needs to recover after being pushed to its limits and I know only too well that my body is no different.

It’s been a good last few days and a nice reminder that I am getting better. Now, the hope is just that I can keep on moving forward and not be forced to take too many backward steps any more. My next 10k race is in October and I genuinely can’t wait!

Matt Ritchie: This is a Party Political Broadcast!

The dust has just about settled on one of the most successful seasons in Newcastle United’s recent history. The majority of our thoughts – and those of the players and staff – have inevitably turned to the prospect of top level European football next season. It’ll still that way for a while yet. However, there are other matters to attend to. Transfer targets seem to be emerging in their hundreds and as they do, we’re also being informed about players who are likely to be released.

One of those names is Matt Ritchie and while there are lots of fans who’d be happy for him to leave, I think he’s well worth at least another year. I think that there are lots of us who agree with that too.

So why vote Ritchie, so to speak?

Brought to the club for £10m by Rafa Benitez in 2016, Ritchie was a vital component in our promotion from the Championship a year later. He was a player I’d seen at Swindon and Bournemouth and always liked the look of. Seven years later and I think he’s been worth every last penny of that transfer fee and then some. A loyal and popular servant to the club and always a player that we could rely on.

I’ve always liked Ritchie at Newcastle. I’ve always liked wingers, so he fits the bill. But also, I like the competitive edge he brings, the creativity and even the odd spectacular goal, like the volleyed stoppage time equaliser at Bournemouth in 2019. Add in the penchant for lacing corner flags and over-enthusiastically slapping team mates on the back of the head and I’m sold! A few years back, I even managed to get his image up in every classroom of our school when I added him to our ‘Word of The Week’ posters – a personal highlight of my teaching career!

Ritchie will be almost 34 by the time next season kicks off. But let’s not worry about age; let’s put some value on experience, because experience can take you a long way in life. Every squad needs experience and positivity and Ritchie’s got both in spades.

Next season – everything crossed – we hope to be playing in Europe and while Matt Ritchie to my knowledge has never played in a European tie, he has played on the international stage with Scotland earning 16 caps and scoring 3 times. So, in my opinion his career experience at league level and his international experience make him a valuable asset to the squad and a player that needs to stick around.

Ritchie is versatile too, as we found out in the Bruce era. When Bruce finally discovered that tactics weren’t the little sweets in the flip top plastic box, Matt Ritchie became one of his first victims and he was deployed as a makeshift wingback. It worked in fits and starts, but I think Eddie would get more out of him if needed there. While most of his career has been spent as a wide midfielder, I think it’s safe to say that he can do a job in central midfield as well as operating as a wing back. And while I wouldn’t say he’s a perfect option as a wing back, he’s an option and a reasonably dependable one at that.

Now, before I go any further with my Matt Ritchie Pitch, I think it’s necessary to acknowledge the fact that Newcastle United are shopping at a different level of the market these days. So, yes, I understand fully that there are better options in terms of age and ability than Matt Ritchie, but those options cost money in what is undeniably an inflated market and with the club insistent, rightly, on adhering to the rules of Financial Fair Play it would seem pertinent to keep someone like Ritchie around. He knows the club and seems to love it, totally understands the manager’s methods and demands, is well liked by the fanbase and obviously a popular bloke within the squad. He might even be a good option to help out on the coaching side of things as the year progresses.

Ritchie is the kind of character who is invaluable ‘around the place’, as they say. The back-of-the-head slaps as goal celebrations, the corner flag kicking, the passion, the berating of linesmen, the honesty, the chirpiness, the energy and the fight; all vital in any team sport. And then there’s his experience. As we’re more likely to be bringing more younger, inexperienced players in someone like Ritchie would be sure to have a positive influence on them. As well as this, with the likes of Anderson, Miley, De Bolle, Kuol and others coming through the ranks the influence of such an experienced pro would no doubt be more than useful. Earlier this season it was Sean Longstaff who talked of Ritchie’s influence on his professionalism and mental health in the last couple of years and look at him now – a glowing reference if ever there was one.

Apparently Ritchie is a bit of a whinger and it’s borne out on the pitch where he’s always been vocal with his team mates and contested the majority of decisions that have gone against us. I kind of like that as it shows him as someone who won’t settle for second best. Yes, he’ll whinge, but just because he wants to be better.

For me, Matt Ritchie brings a wealth of positives. His influence on the pitch would probably only really be as a substitute, but he’s a solid ‘yes’ for me just for that. Add in his character and personality – he seems well loved by squad and staff alike – his drive and desire to win, his professionalism and his experience and I think a year’s extension sounds almost a no brainer.

Eddie Howe has already expressed his desire to keep Ritchie, alongside others like Paul Dummett. Someone like Ritchie helps to maintain our ‘evolution not revolution’ approach, while understanding exactly what it takes to play for Newcastle United and for me that’s the kind of thing that can’t always be bought and simply shouldn’t be disregarded.

My friends, I implore you, Vote Ritchie!

NUFC: We only went and did it!

The morning after the night before was never going to be the time to write this blog. No doubt we were all fizzing with much the same excitement and glow of happiness as we head towards the end of one of the most successful seasons in the clubs recent history. I sat down to write, but what came out was nonsense, so I left it and tried to sleep instead. I couldn’t do that either!

After years and years of heartache and underachievement, we can finally lay claim to some whiff of tangible success. Still no silverware, but a lot of other things to grab on to. Where before hope was confined to being all about survival, now it’s taken a very different direction. And while I think it’s in the DNA of any Newcastle fan, any football fan in actual fact to allow themselves to dream, now we can begin to dream a lot bigger than before.

It’s fair to say that the ‘evolution not revolution’ plan for NUFC is ahead of schedule. If you’d asked at the start of the season about what we – fans, players, management and owners – wanted out of the season, I think the consensus of opinion would have just been somewhere in the top 10. Top 4 felt like a leap too far, given some of the other clubs that we’d have expected to challenge for those spots.

Monday night changed all that though. An unusually nerve-wracking 100 minutes or so of football saw us grab the point we needed to qualify for the Champions League next year and prompted huge celebrations for Mags everywhere.

I think the highlight for me was seeing Jacob Murphy’s interview. His reaction was part fan, part player and part child who’s wanted a puppy for years and has finally had one revealed to them in the living room when they’ve got back from school. And that’s not me being cruel. I thought it was lovely to see the sense of wonder written all over his face. The lad was just blown away by what we’ve achieved and I guess by the possibilities that it brings.

As fans, we share that sense of wonder. There’s something brilliantly special about European football and those nights under the lights, especially at St. James’ Park. I still remember the Champions League campaign of 02/03. The Juventus game sticks out in my mind, even though I was at all of our home games. The atmosphere was electric as we’d lost our first 3 group games and needed to win this one to stay alive in the competition. We won and I believe I’m right in saying, would go on to be the first side to qualify from the group stage having lost their first three games.

I was in my seat in the Leazes, but alongside total strangers. It turned out there were three Italians sat next to me and I wondered if they were Juve fans. When Andy Griffin scored our winner it became very clear that they weren’t!

It’s been amusing to see the reactions of fans of other clubs. Many seem to be questioning our value to the competition, but rather than doing that, perhaps they should just be questioning why their own illustrious clubs didn’t make it.

I think we’ll hold our own. We’ll undoubtedly add to the squad before then, but we’ll still have the coaching and tactical brilliance of Eddie Howe and his staff on our side too. During the Ashley years, playing in the Champions’ League again was nothing more than a pipedream. Well, now we’ve got it, there’s no point in half measures. I want to see us tested against the best that our continent has to offer. Not only that though, I have faith in our management and players.

Of course there are questions marks over various aspects of the squad and even the management. Let’s not forget that many of our squad and staff will be entering unknown territory at this level of European football. But, let’s see this as a challenge, an adventure, rather than something to fear.

I couldn’t think about the Champions’ League without thinking of the music. Zadok the Priest they call it and it’s one of those pieces of music that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. King Charles even chose it for his coronation and I’d like to think he’d have it as his walk on music if he ever turned those massive fingers to darts.*

Now we all know the tune, but how many of us know the lyrics? Not many I’m guessing. So, I looked them up as part of writing this and it turns out that they’re much more relevant than you’d have first imagined. To cut a long story short, it’s all about being joyful and happy. One line in particular stands out – “and all the people rejoiced, rejoiced, rejoiced”. It’s not exactly the genius of Lennon and McCartney or Morrisey and Marr, but it made me thnik again about those scenes at full time on Monday night. But, perhaps we ought to think about that line in terms of next season too. We’ve dreamed of having hope for such a long time. Now, we have it. Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice.

Enjoy the Champions’ League, Toon fans!

  • Just so we’re clear, I do know the relevance of Zadok the Priest to a king and I also don’t expect King Charles to be having a go at darts any time soon. It was just a daft joke.

NUFC: Can we talk about the other night?

I used to write these pieces every so often during the Steve Bruce era. They became a good way of getting my anger and frustration out there without harming myself or anyone else. A good test of my imagination thinking of news ways to insult Steve Bruce as well. People seemed to like them too.

This one obviously has a much more positive feeling to it. Apart from anything else, we’re closing in on the end of a magnificent season and some kind of European football next season, although I’m far too superstitious to even speculate about the name. As well as that though, Thursday night was our victory against Brighton and Hove Albion and I think there’s a lot to talk about.

I wasn’t there; I watched on telly. And that’s part of the problem, really. After leaving work, I spent quite a long time taking in various media perspectives about the game, as you do. Big mistake. Listening to the radio, reading stuff on the internet and watching the Sky coverage tainted my night because it made me so angry. You’d have thought we were somehow playing Brazil ’70 from the tone of the national media, such were the glowing Brighton tributes and vague predictions made. Eventually it really got my back up.

There’s been a lot of bias this season. A lot of the national media seem to be against us and I don’t mind that so much, having gotten used to it over the years. It becomes hard to ignore though, when it’s the dominant factor in the coverage.

Brighton are a good side. Their league position suggests as much and I’ve watched enough of them to realise that they play lovely football. But, away from home against a side higher in the table? I couldn’t get my head around the praise that was being thrown their way. Recent losses seemed to be ignored in favour of talking up their win against Arsenal at the weekend, while our recent losses and the draw at Leeds were mentioned with a sense of doom. All very odd, if you ask me and really disrespectful when you think of the brilliance of Eddie’s Mags this season. But a lot of the media seemed to see a Brighton win as some kind of inevitability.

I turned off Talksport’s coverage after approximately four minutes after they’d got the name of the stadium wrong and then talked about something at the Gallowgate End that was clearly the Leazes. I know that the answer is just not to listen to that particular station, but I was away from the telly and just wanted a bit of pre-match build up. Bigger fool me.

The Sky coverage felt no better and there was a sense of doom about the whole thing. It didn’t seem to matter how well we were playing; Brighton had made four changes, there were a lot of young players playing and did you know they’d beaten Arsenal at the weekend? Call me paranoid, but it felt like the two clowns on commentary wanted Brighton to win, more than anything. The quality of our performance didn’t get that much airtime because Brighton played out from the back – largely unsuccessfully – and passed the ball round making nice patterns on the pitch. Personally, I’ll take our four goals any day of the week.

Which brings me on to a more positive note about last night. I thought we were excellent. Better than when we hammered Spurs, even though we didn’t score as many. As good as Brighton might be – and they are a good side – we were simply a lot better.

I felt that we bullied them. The Sky commentators seemed to think it was some kind of moral victory that Brighton stuck to their principles and kept on trying to play out from the back. Yet, our press was incredible and on another day, given the amount of times Brighton panicked and tied themselves in knots, we could have gone in 5-0 up at the break, just from chances created while pressing high.

It’s said that in the pre-match huddle Kieran Trippier tells the lads the same thing, every time; pressure is a privilege. And Thursday night must have brought with it a fair amount of pressure for those players. Unlike some former Newcastle United teams however, we didn’t fold. Instead, we rose to the challenge, reveled in the pressure and imposed our game on Brighton to great effect and a Brighton side that have outplayed both Arsenal ad Man Utd recently didn’t really have a kick in that first half.

Eddie’s tactics were spot on and I particularly liked the ploy of using Miggy to close down their keeper quickly. We obviously felt he had an error in him and he did. Sadly, we just couldn’t capitalise on them. Callum Wilson was excellent here too and Lewis Dunk was repeatedly forced to go back to the keeper for a way out of the holes he was digging.

Eventually, we succeeded in breaking them down with Trippier’s delivery proving too much for Brighton. Before that though, we’d harassed the life out of both full backs and I actually felt a bit sorry for Estupinan at left back as Miggy went past him time and again. The poor lad looked totally befuddled by it all. I’m guessing the atmosphere didn’t help either.

Funnily, having mentioned the commentary earlier, I initially thought that the bloke had called out ‘Oh God’ when we scored, rather than ‘Own goal’. It wouldn’t have been a surprise!

Later on, when Brighton managed to see a bit of the ball and pulled a goal back, we never looked panicked and it was a thoroughly professional display. Definitely one of Nick Pope’s easier nights.

As we went 3 and then 4-1 up, I allowed myself to think a bit about Europe. We shouldn’t be afraid, whatever competition we end up in. The media will talk of us being tested by the big boys, but I wonder what the big boys will make of the bear pit atmosphere of a midweek game under the lights at St. James’ Park?

A year ago we were fighting relegation. Two years back and we were in the depths of despair watching a team with no confidence play for a manager with no tactics and suffering transfer window after transfer window of disappointment. The balance sheet champions.

Now, we’re Eddie Howe’s black and white army. Bring on the European adventure, I say!

Recovery Goals: My First 10k Race!

As lots of you know, I suffered a bit of a health setback in November of last year when I was admitted to hospital and had to have a pacemaker fitted. It was a shock, but not in terms of feeling unwell. The truth was that I’d been struggling with heart ‘episodes’ since around May last year. I just made a really stupid choice in trying to manage it and hide it from everyone. My distinct lack of medical training allowed me to have faith in the fact that it would probably just go away.

Despite all of this, I’d kept on going out running, striving to build fitness while all along fully aware of the palpitations and dizzy spells I suffering on an every more regular basis. I never felt bad when running though, so I kept going.

On Sunday 15th May last year, I ran the Pontefract 10k in West Yorkshire, finishing in just over 51 minutes. I felt great.

By May 28th I was a complete mess and was forced to reveal a little bit of what was going on to my family when I had my worst episode of the year. The palpitations got so bad that my whole body was shaking. This lasted for around 6 hours and for almost all of this I managed to hide what was happening. I was forced to confess as we were due to go out to a gig and I was worried I may well collapse. Miraculously, I didn’t end up in hospital as, with a bag packed, I suffered a dizzy spell that shook me from the feet up and levelled my heart rate back out. I was exhausted, but fine, so no need for a doctor. It couldn’t and didn’t last though.

In October I collapsed in Manchester Airport as we were heading off for a break. Again, fate intervened as the ambulance was unavailable, so we went on holiday, took things easy and vowed to visit the doctor when home. But my ‘luck’ was about to run out. It was while waiting for an appointment at hospital that I ended up being admitted to a ward anyway, a month later. The rest, as they say, is history.

To cut a long story short, I set myself some goals in hospital. One of them was to get fit and run the Pontefract 10k in May of 2023. Despite several setbacks along the way, I achieved my goal a couple of weekends ago. Here’s how it went.

Having only been able to manage three full weeks of training, I was beyond nervous on the morning of the run. I hadn’t actually ran a full 10k since the previous October and knew that once I got to 5.5 miles (8.85km) I was in unknown territory as far as my heart – and actually more importantly, my legs – were concerned. With a minute to go, standing on the start line, I felt a little bit sick and more tired than I’d hoped for. My previous training run had gone well and I’d felt stronger than I did now. Talk about bad timing! Surely all I had to do was start running and keep going though?

The Pontefract 10k course is affectionately described as ‘undulating’. In truth, it’s tough and hills seem to dominate. So, even though I knew what was coming as I took the first turn out of the park that it starts in, I allowed myself a wry smile as my heart sunk (metaphorically, don’t panic) at the sight of the first long climb. If I’m right, it’s about a kilometre long and really a lot steeper than you’d like as you set off on a 10k race.

Around about 5 or 6 minutes later, as I finally crested said hill, my legs felt wobbly to say the least. However, knowing that there was a stretch of flatter running to come calmed me a bit.

The course feels like it takes you up more than it does down, which as it starts and finished in the same place can’t be true. But as each hill appeared, I began to feel doubts seeping in. I covered the first couple of miles in around 18.5 minutes, so although I was going slower than I’d have liked, I was steady. My goal was to run it in under an hour, but I was more hoping that I’d be close to 55 minutes as this had been what my training had indicated I was capable of.

I ran a focused race. Just telling myself to shorten my stride and keep plodding along for hills or lengthen it for flat sections or downhills bits. When heading downhill I was careful not to get too carried away though as the course has a nasty habit of following a lovely downhill section with a punishing climb. I tried not to look at my watch too often in order to check times and distance, but as the race went on and I got more tired, it proved too much and I was making checks on a far too regular basis, which didn’t help me.

Turning at halfway, I was greeted with the usual big hill, which then takes you left and up another one. During these climbs I started to doubt myself a little bit, but was spurred on somewhat by the fact that some people had began to walk. Despite being encouraged to do so by my family, walking was never an option for me, but although the sight of others doing this lifted my spirits a bit, it did nothing for my legs! I’d also started to feel sick by this point too, but I knew there was a water station a mile or two ahead, so just hoped that I could reach that point incident free.

Underpinning every step I took, both in training and the race itself, was the fact that this was a major goal I’d set while lying in a hospital bed feeling very sorry for myself. In short, I was determined that I’d finish, on my feet, running. And I’d finish in under an hour!

The hills just seemed to keep on coming though and despite the fact that I’ve ran the race twice before, I still couldn’t work out when they’d end. Every time I dragged myself up one, it felt like there was another in the distance and I’d lengthen my stride for the flat section before steeling myself for the energy sapping climb to come!

The water station came and went and I grabbed a bottle, being careful just to sip some in order to avoid being sick. Lots of runners take a swig and discard their bottle pretty quickly, but I decided I’d just keep mine until I saw my family near the end. I’d be able to just keep taking regular sips in order to keep going. Those hills didn’t want to stop though!

Every so often on the route, people had come out of their houses to cheer the runners on and the support was invaluable to me this year. It’s naturally quite encouraging and people say the loveliest things as you run past, although not the most accurate. Whoever called out, “looking good” as I ran past in the last few kilometres clearly needed an eye test! I was also struck by one old man’s generosity of both thought and gesture as we approached the last sections of the race. He’d bought a few crates of bottled water and was using his Sunday morning to help people out. It was a lovely gesture and although I was clinging on to my water station bottle and didn’t need any more, it distracted me for a little while and took my thoughts away from how tired I was.

The race ends on the same stretch that it begins with, meaning the uphill start is reversed. I’ve never been happier to be at the top of a hill! I’d checked my watch and knew that the 6 mile mark (almost 10kms) was approaching, so I lengthened my stride once more and ran faster. I knew that my family would be somewhere on the hill, waiting for me, but as yet I couldn’t see them. Knowing they were there really helped though.

About halfway down the hill I spotted them and I knew they’d be able to see me. It spurred me on that little bit more and I picked up speed once again. The last thing I wanted was to worry them and I knew I wouldn’t look too good, so moving faster was my only hope!

Passing them, I knew that the final bend, leading to the last straight was about 30 seconds away. Time seemed to be moving faster than I would have liked though and the clock was getting uncomfortable close to the hour mark.

Two runners passed me at the very start of the final straight. I told myself out loud to let them go – normally I would have kicked on again and tried to catch them. But now, I was exhausted and my only goal was just to get over the finish line.

I was aware that I was moving fairly quickly though. Somehow I’d found the strength to not quite sprint, but to move a great deal quicker than I’d been doing in the last few miles! At this point in the race people are lining the road and everyone cheers the runners on loudly; but not as loudly as my family. My wife, daughter and son had cut across a field to get to the final stretch and I could hear them shouting encouragement as I got close to the finish. The trouble was, I couldn’t see the finish. Normally, there’s a big arch, but this year just a small sign, so for far longer than was comfortable I was unaware of exactly where I was.

By now my competitive streak had kicked in and I checked over both shoulders, sensing that other runners would be finishing strongly too. To my amazement, it seemed like no one was close, so I turned my head around briefly to check. The nearest runner was at least 20 yards behind me. No one else would pass me now. But then I noticed that up ahead, one competitor was walking. It was a club runner that I’d been close to for the last half of the race, but he’d gotten away from me while I was flagging. I sped up – fractionally – feeling that he was sure to hear me and run, but he didn’t and I was able to make up one more place in the finishing order.

Just when I thought it would never come, the finish line was mere yards away. I could see the clock ticking on. 59.50. My watch was reading a minute less, but that would be my time over the start line, not my gun time. Again, I kicked. I could just dip under the hour mark. Using every last bit of energy, I made it, crossing the line in a time of 59.58!

In amongst the feelings of sheer joy, I must admit that I welled up at the end. Having set this as a goal 6 months previously and nearly not made it, it was a little bit overwhelming. But I wasn’t going to cry in front of hundreds of runners and spectators, so I gritted my teeth, covered my face a bit and took some deep breaths. Job done!

By the time my family located me, I’d picked up my medal, grabbed a bottle of water and was waiting in the queue for a t-shirt. As I stood, my legs were rapidly cramping up though. I knew I hadn’t been able to train enough and was fully aware of what the last 10k had taken out of me. I was so tired that I didn’t have the strength left in my legs to stand still and stretch in order to get rid of the cramp! My wife had to hold onto me, so that I could balance and stretch. Later, when I had to go and take a match for my youth football team things would get worse as I kept getting cramp in my feet, but couldn’t balance in the stretch position needed to alleviate the problem!

So 6 months on from my operation and I feel like I’ve finally achieved something tangible. I certainly feel a great deal more like my old self, even if it’s been a long road to get here. I guess there’s nothing else for it than to keep moving forward. So, where and when is the next race that I can enter?

NUFC: Come on, let’s stick together.

I had no intention of writing about Newcastle United at this moment in time. Too many other things taking up my time. But then, as far as Newcastle United is concerned stuff just seems to happen, doesn’t it? And sometimes, when it does, we feel forced to speak up.

I wanted to remind anyone who reads this of the fantastic season we’ve had as supporters of Newcastle United. Because at the moment, from an ever increasing number of sources, you’d think we were fighting relegation again. We seem to have got to a point in time where despite the obvious facts of the matter – we’re an incredible football team and a massive club again – Newcastle United might still be a bit too divided at times.

Following the defeat against Arsenal, some fans couldn’t help but react. The finger of blame was pointed – via social media of course – at some of our players, when in reality it was a combination of factors that led to the loss. Essentially we weren’t as good as we have been, we got a bit unlucky, didn’t quite take our chances and Arsenal did. A lenient ref and a questionable VAR call didn’t help either.

Yet, it felt like quite a few people decided it was the fault of players like Bruno or Joelinton. And while I’m not averse to giving a bit of constructive criticism, I don’t think anyone was to blame for that defeat. Certain players could have done better, of course, but no one handed Arsenal the points. On another day, Botman blocks the first as he’s done all season and we defend the second better.

I think, given what he’s done at the club in little over a year, Bruno Guimaraes should just be praised to the rafters. The lad’s a star and he clearly loves our club. I didn’t think he had a great game against Arsenal, but he certainly wasn’t at fault either. He was clearly targeted from the word go and so it was always going to be a tough game. He’ll be back to his best in no time at all. No need for the keyboard critics to have their often overly emotive say.

The same can be said for Joelinton too. He’s a player transformed and we are without doubt a better side for him being there. As the song says, “we think he’s f***ing brilliant”.

We’re at a stage in the season where the abuse is coming at us from all sides. To be fair, we’ve had it all season, but it seems to be intensifying at the moment. Success breeds contempt, I suppose. It also makes fans of other clubs jealous. So, right now we’ve got the regular baiting coming from Everton and Villa fans in the ‘my dad’s bigger than your dad’ debate. We’re being labelled cheats where others are praised for their game management. Stories of our star players heading to other ‘bigger’ clubs have even started up. Football fans across the country have suddenly grown a social conscience in order to have a go at us for selling our souls too. And there’s even a Twitter account dedicated to criticising our assistant manager. I mean, you know you’ve gotten under someone’s skin when that type of thing happens! For the record though football fans, wind your necks in where Mad Dog’s concerned!

This negativity comes from jealousy. It’s as simple as that. So, we’re subjected to negative judgements of our support, our ownership and our players from certain corners of the media and all corners of social media. It’s the kind of stuff we need to be laughing off. You might say that this is the future for Newcastle United, because in our country, we don’t like success. Build them up to knock them down, that’s what they say in Britain, isn’t it? Team photos after a win? If it was other clubs doing it, their fans would love it too. Drink it in, I say! They also never tire of telling us how much money has been spent, usually inaccurately. And yet, fans of most other clubs would love to have a Miggy, a Sean Longstaff, a Fabian Schar or a Joelinton, all of whom were here before the takeover. But that’s a fact they conveniently ignore.

Rather than criticising our own or squabbling with fans of other clubs desperate to see us fail, why don’t we just focus ourselves? Whatever happens now, there’s European football at the end of it. I get superstitious about predictions, so I won’t make one, but even I can’t ignore the fact that we’re in 3rd place in the league. So instead of negativity and worry, try to remember your season highlights. The 6-1 v Spurs, the grit showed in the 3-3 v Man City at home, Isak’s run against Everton or Maxi’s volley against Wolves. Face it, there are too many to ignore. So take a moment, relax and have a think about the sheer number of amazing moments, results and performances we’ve had this season. I’m sure you’ll have more than the one!

There are four games left now and as a fanbase we have a job to do. We focus on Newcastle United. We support in whatever way we can. Sing your hearts out, wave your flags, wear your lucky pants or say a silent prayer to the footballing gods, but help get this team ‘over the line’ as they say. And if that line leads to the Champions’ League, then that’s amazing. We’ll have deserved it. And we’re perfectly capable of getting the points that we need.

Trust in Eddie and Mad Dog, trust in these players, trust in the process. Whatever these next four games bring though, remember: we’ve come a hell of a long way in the last 18 months. Enjoy it!

Eddie Howe and his staff are always positive. So much so that they’ve transformed some of our players. I wrote in my last article about Jacob Murphy getting ‘Eddied’. Well my friends, let’s stay positive; let’s get ‘Eddied’ ourselves.

Newcastle United: we’ll never be defeated!

NUFC: Jacob Murphy is living the dream!

Whenever a homegrown player does well, we drag out the chant. You know, that one. And it could be literally anything remotely positive that the player has done. A three yard pass, clapping the fans, slyly kicking the ball away to waste a few more seconds in time added on. It doesn’t matter – “He’s one of our own”. What’s important is that they came through the system and preferably before that, they lived a similarly ordinary life as the rest of us.

This season we’ve found a new one who deserves the chant . Not, Elliot Anderson or Sean Longstaff. Not even one of the Mileys. No, in actual fact he’s been around for ages. With his mix of pace, energy and an excellent line in shithousery, Jacob Murphy has transcended geography and academy membership and firmly taken his place as one of our own.

Murphy was signed from Norwich by Rafa Benitez in July 2017. He came with a great deal of promise, but with only one full season for Norwich under his belt, there was more than a hint of ‘one for the future’ about him. He was 22 years old and signing for his boyhood club having just starred for England Under21s in the Euros; Jacob Murphy had the world at his feet.

In the 6 seasons since he signed for the club, Murphy has made 124 appearances, 66 of which came as a substitute. During those first three seasons he only made 34 appearances for the club as he was shipped out on loan in both 2019 and 2020, to West Brom and Sheffield Wednesday respectively. Suddenly, the world most certainly wasn’t at his feet and the dream move was simply not working out. In fact, I remember people asking if we’d signed the right Murphy – Jacob is a twin, if you didn’t know and his brother Josh was performing well for Cardiff at the time.

Back at Newcastle, he managed to work his way back into the squad but was frequently played out of position by Steve Bruce, the master of wedging square pegs in round holes. The move still wasn’t working out and it felt like he was a player who would definitely be sold, sooner rather than later. Another move that we could all put down to experience.

And then, Jacob Murphy got ‘Eddied’.

Eddie Howe has been transformative for Murphy. I don’t think that’s necessarily been in terms of ability either. Murphy was a very talented player when we signed him and in my opinion was one who suffered with poor man management. For me, Rafa Benitez didn’t seem to know what to do with him and when it looked like he may well be overwhelmed with his ‘dream’ move, Benitez didn’t seem able to help. I think this was and is probably just a flaw of Benitez’s management style, as former players seem to have been at pains to talk about the very formal relationship that they had with their ex boss. As a result, Murphy went out to West Brom on loan in August 2019. He must have felt like his dream move just wasn’t going to work out.

Steve Bruce had a similar effect on Murphy. Shortly after Bruce’s arrival at the club, Murphy was sent on loan again, this time to Sheffield Wednesday with reasonable success. Upon his return to the Newcastle, he was a fairly peripheral figure and for a lot of Bruce’s time he was played out of position as a wing back in a failing system. You could see the confidence draining out of the lad and he seemed to become a specialist in making terrible decisions. This was highlighted with his choice of trying to dink the ball over Watford’s keeper when clean through on goal with the chance of a winner. Instead, he just planted the ball into the keeper’s arms. By the sound of the Radio Newcastle commentary, I don’t think John Anderson will ever get over it!

By the time we were taken over, it felt like the end of the Jacob Murphy story was nigh. He looked almost certain to be sold. And yet, to his eternal credit, he dug in, held on and retained a place in the squad. The rest is, as they say history.

Eddie Howe has repeatedly reminded us of Murphy’s value to the squad. Successive players – Sean Longstaff springs to mind – have stressed his importance in terms of the spirit in the group. Longstaff said, “If it wasn’t for Murph, a lot of the way the group is it wouldn’t be as together, the training standard wouldn’t be as high. You see him coming on in games and the impact he makes.” He went on to refer to Murphy as a “comfort blanket”. And you can see where those sentiments come from. Murphy just seems like the archetypal ‘good lad’; a bit of a laugh, a positive influence and someone who’s always smiling. Jacob Murphy is having a ball.

As fans, our awareness of Jacob Murphy has been raised by his antics on the pitch as well as his improving form. From his mock awkward expression as he brushed past an apoplectic Marco Silva when we’d beaten Fulham, to his waving off of Duje Caleta-Car in the cup semi final against Southampton, right through to the shocked expression on his face after his screamer against Spurs recently. Brilliant to see from a Toon player, but infuriating for the opposition, which seems to be our trademark these days!

In may ways, Jacob Murphy is the poster boy for Eddie Howe’s quiet revolution. He’s certainly the latest to benefit from Howe’s methods and is finally fulfilling what was the undoubted potential he showed when we signed him all those years ago. Murphy’s decision making seems to have got a great deal better and he seems to be brimming with confidence. No more running down blind alleys; these days Murphy seems quite happy to back himself and take defenders on. And as for his second goal against Tottenham? I think his own reaction summed it up, really. As he said himself, he was “feeling juicy”! For me though, it was easily one of the biggest ‘Wow’ moments in a season full of ‘Wow’ moments. As the saying goes, ‘what a hit’! Add in the goal on Thursday night against Everton and Murphy is timing his run to the end of the season just right.

Murphy has been in every match day squad this season, appearing in every game and has also now started 6 of the last 7 matches. Currently, he’s playing brilliantly and keeping top scorer Miguel Almiron out of the team. If you’d said these things at the start of the season, I doubt anyone would have believed that they’d actually happen.

Remember as well, that Newcastle United were his boyhood club. He gets to pull on the shirt and is representing that badge brilliantly. He’s loved by the fans and massively appreciated by his team mates, as well as probably being increasingly feared by the opposition. Jacob Murphy is well and truly living the Geordie dream!

Grassroots Grumbles: For once, there’s nothing to grumble about.

It’s been a tough start to the year as a grassroots football coach. Illness meant that for the final couple of months of 2022 I wasn’t able to coach my team and while I returned to games in January, I couldn’t take a training session until March of 2023.

Despite the hardship, there was no point in grumbling. In terms of my health, anything that I was able to do was simply a bonus. Even organising a training session for someone else to take occupied my mind for a bit, meaning a change in my boring 4 month long routine of a daily walk and then little else.

Then, when I was able to return full time to actual games, it just felt amazing to be involved again. A few of the boys in the squad hadn’t trained while I was in recovery as they weren’t keen on the coaches that replaced me, so it was great to see them back when I returned. And I can honestly say that when our goalkeeper told me, “It’s good to see you”, it was one of the happiest moments of my whole recovery.

We’re a team of varied ability with a smattering of really capable young footballers joined by a group with less ability but lots of enthusiasm. We play in Division 6 of 7, which is an indicator of the ability, but at the start of January we were rock bottom of our league with no wins and no points. In my first game back on 15th January we lost 10-0 and things looked pretty bleak. However, a 4-0 defeat in our next game, against a very good side near the top of the league, was heartening. We were organised, determined and it was clear that the message was getting through. We were finally being competitive in games.

On 5th February this year we played the team who were at the top of our league. I’ll be honest, we’ve never given them a decent game in the three years that we’ve been playing against them, so I didn’t have a great deal of hope. Amazingly though, everything clicked and despite the fact that we were clinging on towards the end of the game, we won 3-2! It was a memorable day and as I was still weak from my operation, it took everything out of me. But, I was smiling and so were my team.

In our next game we reverted to type somewhat and got thumped again, but not long after we picked up another point in a home draw. We’d led three times in the game, so the signs were very good. We lost the next three games, but rarely looked anything but competitive. Confidence was growing…

And then, after a few weather induced postponements came our latest two games. The first one on 16th April followed by last night (at the time of writing), Thursday 20th April. We won both games, scoring 6 goals, conceding 3 and dominating both games for long periods of time. In the main, only silly decisions and mistakes put us under any pressure and had we taken more of the numerous chances we created then we would have given someone a real thumping.

In the first of those games we got in at half time a goal down, but somehow full of confidence that we could win. We looked good and seemed the fitter of the two teams. If we applied some pressure, the three points were there for the taking. I pointed out that only one team looked like they wanted the win and it was us. And win we did, scoring three goals without reply in that second 35 minutes.

Last night was different. An away game against a team that had beaten us a few weeks ago, a local rival and the team just above us in the league. But we went 2-0 up quite early and were by far the better team. At half time we told the lads that we could only beat ourselves; the game was there for the taking. Concentrate, no silly decisions, no need to chase the win as we were 2-0 up. We conceded a goal after about a minute of the second half!

After that though we settled really well and extended our lead midway through the half to almost break the spirits of our opposition. Almost. However, in the last 10 minutes their coaches, their players and even their parents began pressuring the referee for fouls left, right and centre. We kept going forward and really should have added a few more goals, but with about 3 minutes left one of our defenders made a silly challenge and the ref awarded a penalty, which they scored.

My boys fought like lions after that. We slowed everything down, threw ourselves into challenges and battled to keep control of the ball. It felt like about an hour before the ref blew the final whistle and it was brilliant to watch the reaction of our squad as substitutes ran on to the field to celebrate with their squad mates. You’d have thought we’d won a cup final! But what a joy to see after the last few months.

My team have suffered this year. Opponents – and sadly, some coaches – have laughed at them in defeat. Lots of things have gone wrong. My heart surgery seemed to shock them, not least my son who plays for the team and came home crying after a game in December when I couldn’t attend and they got beat in the last seconds of the game. And as a result of my surgery, they’ve had to make do, training with a younger age group for months. Rarely have their heads dropped and they’ve shown up in numbers week after week. Now, as we ride the wave of optimism that any victory brings, let alone 2 in 5 days, it feels like we’re a hell of a team and I couldn’t be more proud.

Speaking to my wife in hospital in November, I told her that I didn’t think I’d be able to carry on coaching. It made me feel very sad, but it made sense while my body, and to some extent my mind, felt so broken. Now, there might just be a little bit of light at the end of the tunnel and there’s definitely not a lot to grumble about!

NUFC: Just Trust the Process.

There’s a lot said about opinions. These days, everybody seems ready to offer you theirs, on any subject regardless of their ignorance.

John F Kennedy once said that “we enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought”, while my dad often used to quote the old saying that “opinions are like arseholes; everybody’s got one”. While both are – as far as I know – true, I think I prefer JFK’s.

I got to thinking about this when the story about Newcastle wanting to sign Scott McTominay surfaced. As an avid user of social media I was immediately made aware of the fact that this was a player that we shouldn’t sign. The only grounds for this opinion seemed to be either that fans like Keith from Gateshead didn’t like him or that, under the new ownership, we could afford to go out and buy ‘better’. The internet seems to mean that every other football fans thinks they’re ‘in the know’. I’m not sure they are though.

Misguided opinions have been around in football for a long, long time. In my own experience one of the first that springs to mind is when we signed Mick Quinn in 1989. Not good enough, came the cry from many, while a banner at a fan protest about sacking the board read ‘Who the f*** is Micky Quinn?’ Many were unhappy that, in their opinion, our new number 9 just wasn’t good enough.

Those of us old enough to remember know that Quinny scored four on his debut in a 5-2 home win against Leeds. He’d certainly answered the question from the banner pretty quickly and he went on to score 57 goals in 110 appearances. It’s safe to say that anyone who had a problem with his signing was guilty of what JFK was talking about – quick to shout up, but with no thought whatsoever.

In more recent times we’ve probably all been guilty of questioning some of our signings. Possibly none more so than the signing of Joelinton. Whatever way you look at it, we were wrong. Yes, there were times when it looked like we had a real point as he became guilty of miss after miss or tripped over his own feet once again. But what did we really know? I for one, hadn’t even heard of him before he signed and I knew very little even about the club we signed him from, Hoffenheim. Put simply, I hadn’t seen him play. Not even on every amateur scout’s favourite place, YouTube.

I think I’d be fairly accurate in saying that Big Joe wasn’t Steve Bruce’s signing. But Bruce was happy to work with him. And work with him he did, sadly almost ruining him in the process. Face it, Bruce would have made Messi look like a carthorse, so Joelinton didn’t exactly have the easiest of starts. But still we were happy to put forward nothing but negative opinions. While I was desperate for him to be a success, I just couldn’t see a player there.

When Eddie Howe came in as manager he was quick to stress the importance of Joelinton to his team. He was very vocal about the fact that they’d identified him as a major player from very early on in their time at the club. And while it took a sending off and a hasty re-arranging of the formation to put Big Joe back in midfield, it worked. Again, what did us fans really know?

“He’s Brazilian…” – The Remarkable Rise of Joelinton.

Being a club with rich owners means that we’ll be linked with a whole host of players, many of whom you or I won’t have heard of. Yet still people offer negative opinions. Not good enough, doesn’t score enough goals, lazy etc. If nothing else it proves that the internet, especially Twitter, is the maddest place on the planet. I simply don’t believe that 99% of the people who offer their expert opinion on the players that we get linked to know the first thing about them. I mean, how can you know? I have a family and a full time job; I just don’t have time for that many scouting trips. None, in fact. I’m sure most of you are the same.

Which brings me on to McTominay. I quite like him. He’s strong, physical, quite quick and has a good deal of Premier and Champions League experience. I’m not sure whether he’d be a signing that would excite me that much or where he’d fit in, but I quite like him. I’m of the opinion, like lots of others, that we’re in need of a defensive midfielder and he’s not it. I’m sure there are much sexier names out there too. But what do I really know?

Football has become a squad game, so McTominay fits in, whether we like it or not. The point is though, I don’t have the luxury of regular chats with Eddie Howe, Jason Tindall, Steve Nickson or Dan Ashworth, so I haven’t the first clue what the plan is. What I do know is that in the last week, McTominay has scored four international goals for Scotland, so he might just be proving himself to someone.

I trust the process and I don’t think I should be part of it. I don’t think you should either, with the greatest of respect. Eddie and his team are doing an incredible job. Personally, I’m just basking in the glow of not having to think about relegation for once and I’ve got Eddie and the team to thank for that.

So, while we’re all on social media offering scattergun negative opinions on 90% of the players we’re linked to, maybe we should all just sit back and allow ourselves ‘the discomfort of thought’. I wouldn’t want Eddie Howe or Dan Ashworth coming in to my classroom and telling me how to teach Macbeth to a room full of disinterested Year 11s. They’re happy to leave the Shakespeare to me. So, maybe I’ll leave the transfers to them.

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!