Doesn't quite fit in with our official club policy of just giving the captaincy to the oldest player.
Follow along with the video below to see how to install our site as a web app on your home screen.
Note: This feature may not be available in some browsers.
- Status
Doesn't quite fit in with our official club policy of just giving the captaincy to the oldest player.
Fair point but Messi getting a longer ban for merely swearing at an assistant ref does suggest some odd priorities.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/c...g?shareToken=84fe97640f447210e545b6163ec35ce6
Coleman will already have had to stand on broken leg
Gregor Robertson had the same injury as the Ireland defender but says the sweat and toil ahead will be worth it
March 28 2017, 12:01am, The Times
Coleman’s leg was horrifically broken by Wales’ Taylor last FridayRYAN BYRNE/REX FEATURES
Share
The shock will have subsided; the warm blanket of morphine will now be beginning to fade. The reality of that surreal and traumatic event will now be clear to Seamus Coleman, whose long journey back to professional football now begins.
I, like most, winced and drew breath when I saw Coleman’s broken leg flailing in the air after the brutal impact of Neil Taylor’s tackle on Friday evening. Having suffered the same injury myself, while playing for Chesterfield, in November 2009, I felt a shudder go through me knowing just what lies ahead.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer
The memory of that moment, when I lost a year of my career, is clear: the sound; my leg’s unnatural angle; the rush of disrupted nerves; the look on the faces of team-mates before they turned away in horror. Then, the realisation that life was going to be very different, just as focus began to fade.
It remains that way for the first 48 hours which, given the nature of the operation, is just as well. On Saturday Coleman’s leg will have been cut open at the knee, a titanium tibial nail inserted down the centre of his realigned shinbone, holes drilled in his ankle, and below his knee, and screws inserted and tightened to hold it all in place.
When I awoke, in a blur, my leg appeared twice the size that it had been before. But the first of many tests of mental fortitude was not far away.
Believe it or not, the Irishman will already have been asked to get out of his hospital bed to stand on his own two feet. Perhaps, after asking if that was a joke, as I did, he will have heard that his leg is “going nowhere”, that it is now “stronger than before” — words he will get used to hearing but which do little to detract from the incomprehensible thought of putting weight through a broken leg.
It stimulates the fracture site, you are told, circulates blood and encourages the bone to knit and repair. I nearly passed out. Sleepless nights and the throbbing pain fill those first few weeks, spent almost entirely in bed but for much-dreaded trips to the bathroom. During each visit, I would pause in front of the mirror, crutches under my arms, and steel myself to put weight through the leg, before collapsing in a sweaty mess until the next time.
In those early days you are given simple exercises in an attempt to maintain some semblance of definition in your leg — single leg raises while lying on your back, and hours with pads of the electronic muscle stimulator attached to your leg leave you in a similar state of breathlessness. Never does playing football, the fitness and fluidity of movement that is so taken for granted by players, seem so distant — unimaginable, almost.
When, eventually, you can begin your rehab programme in the gym, the resistance exercises, maintaining fitness on the bike and in the swimming pool, is monotonous, but unavoidable. Monthly X-rays gradually show the cloudy calcifications beginning to cover the clean, sharp image of the fracture.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer. You hear your team-mates moan about a hard day’s training, as you may once have done, but would give anything to be out there on the grass kicking around a ball for a living.
Robertson broke his leg in two places while playing for Chesterfield in 2009. It took him a year to recoverPETE NORTON/GETTY IMAGES
Being injured can detach you somewhat but my first day out on the grass, after around seven months, demonstrated my team-mates’ appreciation of the toil it had taken to get there. As I jogged around the training pitches they gave me a round of applause. But, in football, rarely is an act of kindness without a swift return to cutting humour. As I ran on, with an understandable limp in my stride, one player began to sing the circus theme song. Laughter erupted, of course.
The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide
However that is one of many milestones in the recovery — the day you say goodbye to your crutches, the first one-legged squat, running, jumping — but nothing compares with the first time that you kick a ball.
It is a journey filled with pain, fears, false starts, and countless hurdles to overcome in your mind. The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide. The physios and strength-and-conditioning coaches support you every step of the way, become best friends, but you are on your own in that defining moment.
Coleman will return. The sweat and toil will have been worth it when he steps back on to that pitch.
Coleman will already have had to stand on broken leg
Gregor Robertson had the same injury as the Ireland defender but says the sweat and toil ahead will be worth it
March 28 2017, 12:01am, The Times
Coleman’s leg was horrifically broken by Wales’ Taylor last FridayRYAN BYRNE/REX FEATURES
Share
The shock will have subsided; the warm blanket of morphine will now be beginning to fade. The reality of that surreal and traumatic event will now be clear to Seamus Coleman, whose long journey back to professional football now begins.
I, like most, winced and drew breath when I saw Coleman’s broken leg flailing in the air after the brutal impact of Neil Taylor’s tackle on Friday evening. Having suffered the same injury myself, while playing for Chesterfield, in November 2009, I felt a shudder go through me knowing just what lies ahead.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer
The memory of that moment, when I lost a year of my career, is clear: the sound; my leg’s unnatural angle; the rush of disrupted nerves; the look on the faces of team-mates before they turned away in horror. Then, the realisation that life was going to be very different, just as focus began to fade.
It remains that way for the first 48 hours which, given the nature of the operation, is just as well. On Saturday Coleman’s leg will have been cut open at the knee, a titanium tibial nail inserted down the centre of his realigned shinbone, holes drilled in his ankle, and below his knee, and screws inserted and tightened to hold it all in place.
When I awoke, in a blur, my leg appeared twice the size that it had been before. But the first of many tests of mental fortitude was not far away.
Believe it or not, the Irishman will already have been asked to get out of his hospital bed to stand on his own two feet. Perhaps, after asking if that was a joke, as I did, he will have heard that his leg is “going nowhere”, that it is now “stronger than before” — words he will get used to hearing but which do little to detract from the incomprehensible thought of putting weight through a broken leg.
It stimulates the fracture site, you are told, circulates blood and encourages the bone to knit and repair. I nearly passed out. Sleepless nights and the throbbing pain fill those first few weeks, spent almost entirely in bed but for much-dreaded trips to the bathroom. During each visit, I would pause in front of the mirror, crutches under my arms, and steel myself to put weight through the leg, before collapsing in a sweaty mess until the next time.
In those early days you are given simple exercises in an attempt to maintain some semblance of definition in your leg — single leg raises while lying on your back, and hours with pads of the electronic muscle stimulator attached to your leg leave you in a similar state of breathlessness. Never does playing football, the fitness and fluidity of movement that is so taken for granted by players, seem so distant — unimaginable, almost.
When, eventually, you can begin your rehab programme in the gym, the resistance exercises, maintaining fitness on the bike and in the swimming pool, is monotonous, but unavoidable. Monthly X-rays gradually show the cloudy calcifications beginning to cover the clean, sharp image of the fracture.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer. You hear your team-mates moan about a hard day’s training, as you may once have done, but would give anything to be out there on the grass kicking around a ball for a living.
Robertson broke his leg in two places while playing for Chesterfield in 2009. It took him a year to recoverPETE NORTON/GETTY IMAGES
Being injured can detach you somewhat but my first day out on the grass, after around seven months, demonstrated my team-mates’ appreciation of the toil it had taken to get there. As I jogged around the training pitches they gave me a round of applause. But, in football, rarely is an act of kindness without a swift return to cutting humour. As I ran on, with an understandable limp in my stride, one player began to sing the circus theme song. Laughter erupted, of course.
The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide
However that is one of many milestones in the recovery — the day you say goodbye to your crutches, the first one-legged squat, running, jumping — but nothing compares with the first time that you kick a ball.
It is a journey filled with pain, fears, false starts, and countless hurdles to overcome in your mind. The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide. The physios and strength-and-conditioning coaches support you every step of the way, become best friends, but you are on your own in that defining moment.
Coleman will return. The sweat and toil will have been worth it when he steps back on to that pitch.
roydo
in memoriam - 1965-2024
Oh sure. Lets face it, football governing bodies across the planet have always been more interested in the low hanging fruit than the actual real stuff fans and players get mad at.
Barnfred 55
Player Valuation: £80m
J
Just seen the Messi headline and exactly the same thought came to me.
Michael Tsui
Player Valuation: £1.5m
Low hanging fruit? As if it is proper to throw abuse at referees and their assistants, and expected to solve this by throwing cartloads of money at FIFA?
Michael Tsui
Player Valuation: £1.5m
To me drink driving caught on the spot should be an automatic one-way trip to the prison, with or without mowing anything down.
The gravity isn't the damage but the damage potential of the act should be the only consideration.
Yes a lot of footballers should end up toiling in the gallows for eternity. But I digress.
Following the same vein of thought, though, if such a tackle is dangerous enough to send someone to the treatment table for a long time with some regularity, and if someone believes that such a tackle warrants at least at least 2 months global ban (that is, somewhere around 10 matches total), then I would suggest FIFA to mandate such punishment for two-footed tackles, no matter the ref catches that or not.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/c...g?shareToken=84fe97640f447210e545b6163ec35ce6
Coleman will already have had to stand on broken leg
Gregor Robertson had the same injury as the Ireland defender but says the sweat and toil ahead will be worth it
March 28 2017, 12:01am, The Times
Coleman’s leg was horrifically broken by Wales’ Taylor last FridayRYAN BYRNE/REX FEATURES
Share
The shock will have subsided; the warm blanket of morphine will now be beginning to fade. The reality of that surreal and traumatic event will now be clear to Seamus Coleman, whose long journey back to professional football now begins.
I, like most, winced and drew breath when I saw Coleman’s broken leg flailing in the air after the brutal impact of Neil Taylor’s tackle on Friday evening. Having suffered the same injury myself, while playing for Chesterfield, in November 2009, I felt a shudder go through me knowing just what lies ahead.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer
The memory of that moment, when I lost a year of my career, is clear: the sound; my leg’s unnatural angle; the rush of disrupted nerves; the look on the faces of team-mates before they turned away in horror. Then, the realisation that life was going to be very different, just as focus began to fade.
It remains that way for the first 48 hours which, given the nature of the operation, is just as well. On Saturday Coleman’s leg will have been cut open at the knee, a titanium tibial nail inserted down the centre of his realigned shinbone, holes drilled in his ankle, and below his knee, and screws inserted and tightened to hold it all in place.
When I awoke, in a blur, my leg appeared twice the size that it had been before. But the first of many tests of mental fortitude was not far away.
Believe it or not, the Irishman will already have been asked to get out of his hospital bed to stand on his own two feet. Perhaps, after asking if that was a joke, as I did, he will have heard that his leg is “going nowhere”, that it is now “stronger than before” — words he will get used to hearing but which do little to detract from the incomprehensible thought of putting weight through a broken leg.
It stimulates the fracture site, you are told, circulates blood and encourages the bone to knit and repair. I nearly passed out. Sleepless nights and the throbbing pain fill those first few weeks, spent almost entirely in bed but for much-dreaded trips to the bathroom. During each visit, I would pause in front of the mirror, crutches under my arms, and steel myself to put weight through the leg, before collapsing in a sweaty mess until the next time.
In those early days you are given simple exercises in an attempt to maintain some semblance of definition in your leg — single leg raises while lying on your back, and hours with pads of the electronic muscle stimulator attached to your leg leave you in a similar state of breathlessness. Never does playing football, the fitness and fluidity of movement that is so taken for granted by players, seem so distant — unimaginable, almost.
When, eventually, you can begin your rehab programme in the gym, the resistance exercises, maintaining fitness on the bike and in the swimming pool, is monotonous, but unavoidable. Monthly X-rays gradually show the cloudy calcifications beginning to cover the clean, sharp image of the fracture.
If there is any positive to be taken, it is the realisation of just how fortunate you are to be a professional footballer. You hear your team-mates moan about a hard day’s training, as you may once have done, but would give anything to be out there on the grass kicking around a ball for a living.
Robertson broke his leg in two places while playing for Chesterfield in 2009. It took him a year to recoverPETE NORTON/GETTY IMAGES
Being injured can detach you somewhat but my first day out on the grass, after around seven months, demonstrated my team-mates’ appreciation of the toil it had taken to get there. As I jogged around the training pitches they gave me a round of applause. But, in football, rarely is an act of kindness without a swift return to cutting humour. As I ran on, with an understandable limp in my stride, one player began to sing the circus theme song. Laughter erupted, of course.
The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide
However that is one of many milestones in the recovery — the day you say goodbye to your crutches, the first one-legged squat, running, jumping — but nothing compares with the first time that you kick a ball.
It is a journey filled with pain, fears, false starts, and countless hurdles to overcome in your mind. The greatest test of all is the moment you put your leg into a tackle, when instinct and adrenaline collide. The physios and strength-and-conditioning coaches support you every step of the way, become best friends, but you are on your own in that defining moment.
Coleman will return. The sweat and toil will have been worth it when he steps back on to that pitch.
...very good insight, thanks for posting.
roydo
in memoriam - 1965-2024
As in its dead easy for an FA or Uefa etc to look all hard and important lobbing a ban at a player for swearing or whatever he said. Its a different matter when tackling racism, corruption, and dreadful tackles, (law suits all over the shop on that).
Seamus Colemole
Previously deathbyropeandglass
But haven't they done something about dreadful tackles though? Hence why you very rarely see those kind of tackles luckily, certainly compared to how often you used to.
You know, when people complain that you're not allowed to tackle anymore, you are, just generally you need to do it with as little risk of injuring your opponent as possible.
Next time you see someone complaining about sanitising the game, about how they're taking tackling out of the game and all that remind them of Colemans leg. Thats why sometimes refs are a bit keen to give reds for tackles that actually aren't as bad as they first look but are still over the top or out of control or reckless.
roydo
in memoriam - 1965-2024
If you read back, I have said that the injury is just part of the game, in response to someone saying that Taylor should be banned for 12 games, or as long as Seamus is out for.
My comment of Fifa/Uefa et al was more at how they are dead quick to act on stuff like the Messi thing, (low hanging fruit) but more important stuff, like racism, corruption, and the like they tend to have less of an appetite for.
Seamus Colemole
Previously deathbyropeandglass
Obviously FIFA are pretty terrible and i did feel bad defending them
just your point about doing something about dreadful tackles reminded me of the way loads of fans moan about how "you can't tackle anymore" and all that, this whole incident with Seamus shows exactly why they do taker a harsher view on tackling these days.I've always said i'd rather players got penalised for "good" tackles to be on the safe side rather than allow players to tackle like Taylor (and Bale and Barkley) did and end up with injured players.
D
Deleted member 24970
Guest
Barkleys tackle was a horrible one, im not even going to defend him. Like my post says, players know the consequences of their tackles - they play the sport virtually every day from 7/8 years old.
Taylor did not think 'im going to break his leg here' but he still knows the dangers of flying in the way he did. Like I said, the phrase I would use to describe a over the top studs up challenge would result in a ban of my own.
No excuses for a tackle of the barkley or taylor mould. NONE.
- Status