Chasing a Rugby Dream, Book Two, page 10
While most of Jimmy’s friends didn’t seem to think twice about any of this, Matt found himself growing increasingly irritated by Oscar’s intrusion into their group. He didn’t dislike Oscar, nobody did, but it bugged Matt that Jimmy and Oscar were spending so much time together.
So, as the first half term at school came towards its end, all was really, really good in Jimmy’s world, and it was about to get a whole lot better. On the Monday of the final week before breaking up for half term, Mr Davies made an announcement in the school assembly.
‘And finally, children, sport. Mrs John has kept me informed about the great progress our rugby team has been making in training this term . . . especially one young lady,’ and he smiled as he looked over at Kitty, ‘so she has arranged some extra fixtures. Therefore, the first competitive match of the season will be this Thursday evening at The Rec, and you will be taking on your opponents from last season’s Cluster Cup final, Rockwood, so we can be assured of a very tough match . . . let’s hope you can repeat the result of the final.’
Sitting together in a row, Jimmy, Matt, Manu and Kitty all punched the air and let out a quiet, ‘Yes!’ They couldn’t wait to get back out onto the field in a proper game, and there was no tougher test than Rockwood.
‘I’ll be sending a school text out to all parents later today and putting the details on the school’s Twitter feed and also via your Class Dojo, but please also make sure you tell your parents or carers as well.’
Mr Davies stopped for a moment, then smiled.
‘Oh. And one last thing. Mrs John has an announcement to make about the team. Mrs John.’
Mrs John stood up and walked to the front of the hall.
‘Thank you, sir. Yes, just a brief announcement from me. I wanted to announce our captain for the season ahead. I’ve watched and worked with you all for about six weeks now, and so many of you have impressed me with not just your skills, which is important, but your attitude, which is even more important. However, there is one player who combines both quite brilliantly, and will therefore be Central Primary’s rugby captain for this season.’
Mrs John, beaming, paused for effect.
‘It’s Jimmy Joseph.’
A cheer went up around the hall from both pupils and staff.
Jimmy just sat there, blushing and adjusting his glasses, not knowing what to do or where to look. He was so proud, he thought he might burst. He didn’t think he could be any happier.
But what Jimmy didn’t know, was that by the end of that very week, his rugby world would come crashing down all around him and his dreams of chasing rugby success would be lying in tatters.
THAT’S GOTTA HURT!
Jimmy proudly led the team out at The Rec. Rockwood were already on the pitch, in a huddle, talking loudly and giving very aggressive and tight squeezes. The intensity of their voices revealed just how motivated they were for the contest. Revenge was in the air.
Matt jogged up to Jimmy as they crossed to the other half of the pitch and said, ‘They sound like they’re right up for it, Jim. I think you’ll have to give them some of the Jimmy Joseph magic from the start to shut them up!’
Jimmy laughed. ‘No, you can get amongst them first – soften them up for me!’
‘You’re on!’ shouted Matt and rotated his arms rapidly to warm up his shoulders.
Jimmy was called over to the referee along with the Rockwood captain, a lump of a boy who played in the forwards. His name was Alex. The referee turned to Alex and said, ‘Away team calls – heads or tails?’ The referee flipped the coin, which caught glints of the bright sun as it spun in the air. ‘Heads!’ called Alex, his brow furrowed intently.
He seems quite wound up, thought Jimmy as he watched the coin tumble to ground.
‘Tails,’ said the referee, bending down to pick up the coin. ‘Central, your choice, kick-off or choice of ends?’
Jimmy had been out on The Rec before any of the other players to study its conditions. He had kept his eyes on the flag that sat on top of the Memorial Ground stand that ran alongside The Rec. It had been still for ages. No wind. That had made Jimmy’s mind up. No wind meant no advantage from one side of the pitch or the other. Jimmy wanted control from the start.
‘We’ll kick off please, sir,’ said Jimmy politely.
And before the referee could even ask the question, Alex declared loudly, ‘We’ll stay as we are,’ before turning and running off towards his team.
Jimmy jogged over to Kitty who was passing the match ball back and forth with Matt.
Cupping his hand over his mouth so that the opposition couldn’t hear what he was saying, Jimmy said, ‘I’m going to switch the kick, Kit. I’ll set the forwards up on the left, but will knock it long to you down the right wing. Okay?’
‘Got it,’ said Kitty with a laser-like focus in her eyes.
Jimmy stepped up to the middle of the halfway line and looked across to his left and towards his forwards, who were gathered in a cluster about five yards behind the line, ready to charge the moment Jimmy chose to kick.
Jimmy stood still, then bounced the ball on the ground in front of him, twice. He’d seen George Ford do it on TV for England a few times and thought it looked quite cool. Then, he steadied himself, and held his left arm up to show his forwards that he was about to kick. He took one step forward, then to everyone’s surprise – including the rest of his team – he swivelled to his right and drilled a monster kick over towards the right wing, and to Kitty, who was off like a greyhound from a trap, having timed her run to avoid offside perfectly.
The Rockwood team were caught completely off-guard, especially their left wing who had drifted way too high up the pitch and had to turn to try to beat Kitty to the bounce. He probably wouldn’t have beaten Kitty even if he hadn’t had to turn, but by the time he had, she was already past him.
Jimmy’s plan would have worked perfectly, but for the bounce of the ball.
Kitty reached the ball just as it bounced up, but instead of it bouncing into her arms, for what would have been a certain try, it bounced on its end and took a second, horrible bounce to its right, running off into touch.
Jimmy sucked his teeth in disappointment. His kick had almost been perfect, but wasn’t quite good enough.
‘Line out to Rockwood,’ shouted the referee running over to the touchline, arm outstretched.
The forwards ran past Jimmy to take their place in the line out and as everyone sorted their positions out, Jimmy looked across at his opposite number, the Rockwood fly-half. He hadn’t seen him before and didn’t know what sort of player he was, whether he was going to run if he got possession or maybe put in a long kick behind. Jimmy tried to work it out by the way he was talking to his scrum-half, but couldn’t tell.
And then, for the first time in a long time, Jimmy thought about it. Tackling. He tried to put it out of his head, but couldn’t. He knew he was going to have to deal with it at some point today, but hoped that it would be later in the match, when he’d got up to speed. He just hoped that if Rockwood won the ball, the fly-half would do the sensible thing and bang it long.
The ball came in arrow straight from the Rockwood hooker and was tapped to the scrum-half by their huge second row who had outjumped Andrew Beasley, which was no mean feat in itself.
The ball flew straight to the hands of the scrum-half, who took a step or two forward before passing.
Jimmy had been paying so much attention to their number 10, hoping he’d somehow be able to shadow him over to Manu for him to take the tackle, that he hadn’t noticed that Alex, the Rockwood captain, had stepped out of the line out. As a result, he’d lined up behind the scrum-half, so that when the scrum-half had taken that extra couple of steps, it had allowed Alex the time to build up some real speed and take the pass that his teammate had popped to him.
The pace and line of run that Alex had taken meant only one thing. At top speed, he was heading straight at Jimmy.
Jimmy didn’t freeze. But something definitely happened to him. It was as if everything was happening at half speed.
It might have appeared in slow motion to Jimmy, but to the watching fans and Mrs John, it all happened far too quickly.
Jimmy completely messed up the tackle. His head was in the wrong position, his body was in the wrong position and he simply wasn’t braced enough to stop the marauding Rockwood captain; instead of his body being tight and filled with energy, it was loose and limp.
At the moment of collision, Alex put all his energy into his right hip, and barged his way through Jimmy’s feeble tackle attempt.
Jimmy felt a crack in his collarbone and yelped in agony as he fell to the ground. The pain was so bad that he couldn’t move. He just lay there, groaning slightly, astonished at how much pain was pouring out of his shoulder and collarbone area.
Then he passed out.
DOCTOR, DOCTOR
Jimmy lay in his hospital bed.
He wore a gown that didn’t do up at the back, but still had his rugby socks and shorts on. Draped over his chair at the side of his bed was his red and black hooped school rugby shirt. It was almost in two pieces from where the paramedic had to cut it to get it over Jimmy’s shoulder. When they tried to pull the top over Jimmy’s head when he was in the ambulance, he had yelped in agony, hence the butchery of the shirt.
Jimmy’s dad sat in an uncomfortable bright orange plastic chair while his mum was perched on the end of the bed, her hand resting on Jimmy’s foot.
‘Oh, he’s awake!’ said his father when he noticed Jimmy looking around.
Jimmy smiled.
‘Now don’t move, love,’ said his mother standing up. She brushed his hair back gently. ‘You’ve got to stay as still as possible until they know exactly what’s happened.’
Jimmy nodded. He’d been for the X-ray almost as soon as he’d arrived in the ambulance, but as he’d been sleeping, he didn’t know how long ago that was. He tried to move to make himself a little more comfortable, but the pain that shot from his collarbone made him gasp.
‘Try and stay still, love,’ she repeated. ‘I know it’s tough, but that’s what they said.’
‘Do as your mum says, Jim,’ said his dad. ‘She’s right.’
Jimmy took a deep breath, but only managed a croaky wheeze. ‘Have you got my pump, Mum? My chest is tight.’
Catherine nodded and took his inhaler out of her handbag and passed it to him. He took it in his left hand and put it to his mouth and inhaled. He winced again. Even breathing in from his inhaler was painful. Jimmy closed his eyes and tried to blot it out.
A doctor bustled in and stood at the foot of his bed. He was holding a file.
‘My name is Mr Sharma and I’m the consultant who is looking after you, Jimmy,’ he said with a ready smile. ‘Good afternoon, everyone.’
All three replied. Even Jimmy managed to deliver a half-hearted smile in response.
‘Ah, good to see you smiling! That makes my job so much easier.’
He walked around the bed, looked down at the torn rugby shirt and moved it aside before sitting down. ‘Ah, the spoils of war. This will make a nice souvenir for you one day, I’m sure!’
Despite the pain, Jimmy smiled again. He liked this man.
Then, before the consultant could say anything more, Jimmy blurted out something that had been on his mind since the moment he’d realised he’d been badly hurt, lying on the pitch.
‘Will I be able to play rugby again, doctor?’
Mr Sharma looked at him very seriously.
‘No,’ came his reply.
Jimmy’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Then the doctor burst into a grin. ‘Well, not today anyway!’
Jimmy’s father burst out laughing.
‘I’m sorry, Jimmy, my little joke!’ continued Mr Sharma. ‘Yes, of course you can play rugby again, just not for a little while.’
He turned to Jimmy’s parents.
‘Mr and Mrs Joseph. Your son has been quite lucky. Technically, he has a broken collarbone, but we have several grades of breakages. The worst can snap and penetrate the skin, or can cause nerve damage or possibly require operations needing plates and screws to stabilise the bone. Jimmy has none of these. However, the X-rays reveal a fracture. I would not describe it as a hairline fracture, but neither would I describe it as a clean break. It is somewhere between the two.’
Then, turning to Jimmy, he said, ‘Young man, whilst you are lucky that it’s not a serious break, it’s still bad enough that we need to treat it as if it’s a serious break. We need to ensure that the bone gets the best chance to heal and that it comes back stronger than before. To do this you must follow certain instructions.’
Jimmy nodded, listening intently. He wanted to understand everything so that he could get back playing rugby as soon as possible.
‘First, we will manage your pain. I will give a prescription to your mother of the painkillers you require. You take those as per the instructions, but the intense pain you are feeling will get less over the next twelve to twenty-four hours.’
Jimmy was glad to hear that, because the pain was really quite hard for him to bear.
‘We will then fit you with a triangular sling that will keep the collarbone stable, and give it the best chance to heal quickly. I will also refer you to a physiotherapist who will give you exercises to do which will help strengthen the muscles supporting the bone. This is important and it is vital that you follow these exercises.’
Jimmy nodded eagerly. He’d read a section of one of his dad’s rugby books – even though he knew he really wasn’t supposed to – by the former British and Irish Lions captain, Sam Warburton, and read about how he did all his exercises to get back from injuries as quickly as he possibly could. Jimmy vowed he would do the same.
‘I’ll do everything I can to get myself ready to play rugby as soon as I can,’ he replied with a very serious edge to his tone.
Mr Sharma smiled. ‘Well, I’m very glad to hear that, Jimmy. You are clearly dedicated to your sport. If you do everything you are asked to do and the bone heals as we hope, then I can see you playing rugby again in . . . oooh, let me see . . . ten to twelve weeks. Maybe a little longer.’
‘Twelve weeks?’ Jimmy exclaimed, ‘but the rugby season will be nearly over by then!’
‘I know you will be disappointed,’ replied the doctor, ‘and who knows, you may be a quick healer. Just take the physiotherapist’s advice, listen to what they say and also listen to your body. But whatever you do, don’t rush back to play. Another bump on that same spot before it heals, and maybe we won’t be so positive about your chances of playing rugby long into the future. It’s very important you understand that . . . don’t rush back.’
Jimmy listened to the consultant’s wise words. For once, he vowed to do exactly as he was told.
ON THE COMEBACK TRAIL
Jimmy remained in hospital overnight, his mother and father staying with him, but having to sleep in the waiting room. It was a worrying time, but when Jimmy was examined the next morning, he was quickly released and allowed home, where he was ordered to rest as much as possible for a week, only doing slight exercises like moving his fingers and arm, slowly, and only if there was no pain.
At the start of the second week, Jimmy began his physiotherapy as an outpatient at his local hospital clinic. He was nervous going there at first, as he was the only person under the age of about forty who attended, but soon Jimmy became everybody’s favourite. He secretly enjoyed all the attention he was getting, despite the obvious discomfort he was feeling.
By week three, Jimmy was pretty much pain-free. He had listened to every word that the physios had given him and followed their instructions to a tee. He had even surprised them with the progress he was making. The one thing they had told him was to avoid contact, as even just an accidental bumping of shoulders with somebody could potentially cause the collarbone to break again.
As a result of this, when Jimmy returned to school, after two and a half weeks off, he told Kitty, Manu and Matt that they wouldn’t be seeing much of him out in the yard. Instead, he’d be staying in the classroom, keeping out of harm’s way and doing his exercises. Jimmy didn’t want to risk his rehabilitation in any way whatsoever. The only thing that mattered to him was getting back playing rugby as soon as possible. His friends understood, and apart from some teasing from Matt about being ‘soft’, everyone pretty much let Jimmy get on with his recovery himself.
Jimmy did have someone to help him, though – Oscar. As he still preferred to avoid the hustle and bustle of breaktimes, Oscar either stayed in class or the library anyway, so he became Jimmy’s own in-school physio.
Oscar had taken particular interest in Jimmy’s exercise regime as soon as Jimmy had shown him the exercise sheet, and had knocked up a grid on a new book in his Book Creator app. He titled the book, ‘Jimmy’s Rugby Road to Recovery’ and had used a picture of Jimmy grinning with his arm in a sling as his cover picture. Then, under ‘Chapter One’ he took a picture of Jimmy holding up his exercise sheet, and then, with Jimmy’s help reading them all out, he created a grid under the picture with the name of the exercises down the left-hand side. In the next column, titled ‘Completed’, Oscar would paste in an emoji of a rugby ball, and a final column would be the date that the exercise was completed. Oscar quickly got around to altering the colour background of each page, dropping in lots of rugby-related pics that he had stored on his camera roll, and also amended the font to suit his design. The book quickly became an impressive work of art.
In terms of Jimmy’s exercise regime, because he wanted to ensure the book remained completely up to date, Oscar became quite the taskmaster, making sure Jimmy did the correct number of repetitions for each exercise so that he could record them accurately. Before long, Jimmy was able to ask Oscar about any of the exercises and Oscar could tell him how many in total he’d done in a session, or in a day or over a whole week. Jimmy loved this analysis as it really helped him understand how much work he was getting through to make his collarbone strong again. It helped so much with his desire to focus and keep going. With Oscar’s information always on hand, Jimmy was able to work with Oscar to set targets on a daily basis to ensure all his exercises were not just being done, but being improved too, with everything being recorded in Oscar’s digital book.
