HOW A FOOTBALL INJURY CHANGED MY LIFE FOREVER
It was so dark I couldn’t even see the ball clearly.
The ball pitched fast, right between me and the goalkeeper.
One chance. One shot.
I gathered all my strength… and struck.
But suddenly—and sadly—a defender appeared.
The ball shifted.
And what happened next…
You can probably guess.
I didn’t hit the ball.
I hit his leg.
Silence fell.
A scream rose—mine and his.
People rushed toward us.
They knew this wasn’t just another fall.
I sat on the ground, dazed.
So did he.
I took off my boots…
And what I saw left me cold—
Two toes. Bent. Twisted. Wrong.
I froze.
"Is everything finished?"
That thought echoed louder than the crowd’s noise.
One brother came. Gently, he straightened one toe.
The other wouldn’t budge.
Pain swelled, sharp and growing.
I couldn’t walk—but I tried.
Somehow, I limped off the field.
The match ended.
But my battle had just begun.
Limping Home, Holding Back the Storm
I was limping, dragging pain with every step.
The road home looked endless.
Then, a brother from our team saw me.
His eyes filled with concern.
“What happened?” he asked.
I told him—short words, heavy truth.
He didn’t let me walk further.
He stopped a stranger on a scooter.
Told him to take me home.
That short ride felt like a journey through fog.
Each second stretched like hours.
And when I reached home—
Everything I was holding inside… broke.
I cried.
I screamed.
The pain ripped through me.
Even the walls heard it.
Even the silence did.
---
The Hospital, The Fear, The Flashbacks
It was Sunday.
Doctors were scarce.
But my mother didn’t wait.
She held her fear behind strong eyes.
called an auto, and rushed me to the hospital.
The auto rattled over every stone.
So did my thoughts.
What happens now?
“What about my future?”
“Is this how dreams die?”
The X-ray confirmed what I feared.
Two toes—one realigned, one stubbornly broken.
The doctor didn’t waste time.
“We’ll try,” he said.
And then…
A stretch.
A sharp, white-hot pull.
A pain that lit up my spine.
It was done.
But the storm inside me had just begun.
---
The Pain That Came After
As I lay on that hospital bed,
A different pain took over.
Not the kind that bleeds.
Not the kind that swells.
But the kind that whispers in your ear:
"It’s over."
"You’ve lost what mattered."
Football wasn’t just a game.
It was my identity.
My escape.
My dream.
And now?
It felt like everything had been stolen in a moment.
---
Where It All Began
I can’t remember the exact moment I fell in love with football.
But I remember the feeling.
Me and Favas—my neighbour, my football brother.
We didn’t play for fame.
We played because it was in our blood.
We were born in Malappuram, Kerala. —
the Mecca of Indian football.
Messi lit our hearts on fire.
Argentina made us believe in magic.
We woke at 2 AM to watch matches.
We played until the sun gave up.
The field was more than mud and grass.
It was sacred ground.
But even in those early days,
there was something…
A small, silent pain I carried.
Something that made those moments feel slightly incomplete.
Something I never spoke about…
---
To Be Continued...
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