Football: The most important of unimportant things

An ill-fated decision in the closing stages of my summer holiday saw me bundled into the back of an Italian ambulance, two shattered heel bones leaving me wheelchair-bound for the entirety of autumn and facing a long and arduous road to recovery.

Two surgeries, a scrapyard’s worth of implanted metal and a few weeks in hospital later, I was released into the wide world and faced with the task of de-institutionalising myself and trying to make the best of a less-than-ideal situation.

Unable to help around the house, play with my kids or do anything of worth for my family, all while increasing the burden on my wife, left me feeling a bit down. The usual hobbies I partake in to relieve stress and worry - running, rock climbing, exercising - were, for glaringly obvious reasons, not a possibility.

Before I go any further, I must stress that this is not intended as a sob story. I met some wonderful people thrust into terrible situations in hospital and I count myself extremely lucky that my situation is temporary - an insignificant blip in the grand scheme of things - and that I am in otherwise good health. But to have walking, one of the first things you learn in life, abruptly snatched away for months is a shock to the system.

Once that initial shock has passed, however, life moves on. I may not have been able to enjoy any of my other hobbies, but football was still there. Football is always there; the most important of unimportant things.

A game of football, followed by the humdrum punditry, controversial Twitter takes and workplace discussions, provided a blessed relief from the endless hours of frustration and boredom. Tinkering with my fantasy football team and scouring the betting markets passed the time while my wife was at work, while my own return to work helped to make the days go by more quickly.

Lying in a hospital bed, streaming my first match post-injury - Erling Haaland’s destruction of my team in the Manchester derby - next to John, a 70-year-old Arsenal fan, was not the return to the beautiful game I had hoped for. But I had been reminded of football’s impact the evening before when I told John the north London derby result and saw his eyes light up. Traditional rivalry aside, it was a pleasure to see his own worry melt away for a few brief moments.

The next day we were joined by Adam, a landscape gardener in his mid-40s recovering from emergency surgery. Also a Manchester United fan, we lamented our loss the day before and chatted about Arsenal’s title chances with John. Common ground discovered, the next couple of days were made slightly more bearable for the three of us.

That is what football, and sport in general, can do: inject a bit of joy into life when times are hard. And times are hard for an awful lot of people now. I may not have found much joy that day, but John’s gleeful smile told me he certainly did.

Next week, nine weeks after the initial injury, my casts finally get removed. The bones will heal and I will, in all likelihood, make a full recovery. Eventually, I will be able to return to doing the other things I love. Football will still be there then, too.

Like the famous That Mitchell and Webb Look sketch but cast in a more positive light: it is constantly happening, always on and nobody ever really loses. It’s a familiar comfort blanket in millions of fans’ lives, providing a temporary escape from whatever problems that person may be dealing with.

Of course, like all football articles at the moment, this is all a very roundabout and convoluted way of talking about the World Cup. In a fortnight’s time the most contentious World Cup in history will kick off in Qatar.

There are many people far more qualified than I to discuss the intricacies of these controversies. These issues certainly should not be swept under the rug in the name of entertainment but, to focus on the positives, this World Cup has the potential to be a glimmer of light in an otherwise very dark and very bleak winter for millions of people.

The beer gardens may be too cold to sit in and watching a World Cup Final a week before Christmas may seem outrageous, but maybe it can bring some of John’s joy to those in need of a bit of salvation from the crushing weight of everyday life right now.

My injury is an unfortunate but ultimately temporary situation and I am very fortunate to still be able to enjoy some of the things I love during recovery.

By the time England open their World Cup campaign against Iran I might be able to stand. By the time they lift the trophy in December there’s half a chance I might be able to jump for joy. I can only hope I will be jumping alongside like-minded people who have been able to put their worries to one side for 90 minutes. Although, back in reality, there is more chance of me being capable of jumping for joy than me having any reason to.

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