Not a calf

Apparently it isn't my calf. I, like everyone else I'm told, have something called a tibialis posterior. And I have injured it. Definitely not as bad as a calf muscle tear, and definitely not as bad as an achilles tear. So I am taped up, and off football and walking. Curses. Well, curses with regard to football anyway.

Putting injuries in perspective, you may not have seen the possibly career-ending injury to Eduardo Da Silva, the Brazilian Croatian striker for Arsenal. You may not want to. Be warned: it ain't pretty. The TV companies in Britain took one look and said nope, they ain't repeating that. They would be right. I play a lot of football, and that kind of injury is extremely rare. But sometimes you see stupid and clumsy challenges and these things are only a heartbeat away. A few years ago, I broke a couple of ribs when I beat a guy to the ball (it does happen occasionally) and released a pass which left me off the ground when the 'tackle' finally arrived. It left me sprawling unable to breathe about 6 foot away. Again, could have been much worse.

I'm just editing this to add a reference to the Big Red Train. I will be thinking of this often. Trust the Train.

Exhaustion

Travelling was almost easy next to this. It is like my objection to some of these horrible shows on telly, where contestants are effectively asked what they would do for $100,000 or somesuch. I wish they'd be asked, "would you work for 20 years and dedicate yourself to your career and investment?" The answer would be, unquestionably, "no". Cynical, I am.

I've done summat 'orrible to my calf muscle. I think I'm tired and the body is becoming vulnerable because of this. That's how my thigh muscle was torn last year, and it would rather fit the circumstance this time. On the bright side, I got to discover this a blog by one of the team. He's having fun, and clearly more blog-literate than me! I must look into how he went about it.