THE ROAD TO RECOVERY
~PART 1~

From the moment I suffered an ankle injury in the pre-season Umbro Tournament game against Chelsea on 26 July 1997 to the day of my comeback against Bolton on 17 January 1998, I was out of competitive action for 172 days. It was the longest and toughest period of my professtional life. I am strong mentally and can overcome most adverse situations with positive thinking, so I managed to keep on an even keel for the most part of that spell of almost six months when I was sidelined.

I took part in as many off-feild activities as possible and threw myself wholeheartedly into a rehabilitation programme to give myself a fighting chance of a speedy recovery. When I priginally damaged my ankle, the initial medical forecasts suggested it would be March, at the earliest, before I would play again so I was pleased and proud to have confounded those predictions. The phrase 'miracle comback' was used by more than one commentator to describe my return, but I can assure you it was down to determination and hard work, not just by me but also by those people who guided me through the various stages of recovery.

However, I did have low points. Marathon runners call it 'hitting the wall'; they reach a certain stage of a race when they go through a physical and mental barrier which tests them to the limit. I hit my particular wall in mid-December. I have never felt so low in my entire football career. I could not put a finger on the exact reason. I don't know whether it was because my body was suffering one or two niggling aches and pains because of all the extra work I was doing, whether I was doing too much too soon or simply that I had pushed myself too hard to stay on a mental high since the injury occurred in July. Lainya and my closest friends knew that I was not feeling myself, even though in public I had to put on a brave face and pretend I was as upbest as usual.

I thought back to previous occasions when I was getting over injuries and could not remember feeling this dispirited before. I kept reminding myself that there are people with far worse problems than me, and telling myself that I'm not the pre-programmed robot going through life on remote control, which is how some people see me. Those close to me insisted it would only be a matter of time before I was back to my normal self. The low lasted for just inner a week, though it felt like a lot longer than that.

Before I reached this stage, everything had gone more or less according to plan. There were one or two hiccups but nothing I was able to take in my stride. The day after the operation, I went through the whole recovery process in my mind. The club specialist Rob Gregory's words were etched in my thoughts.

'It's not going to be an easy one, Alan.' he told me. 'Don't expect any miracles or short cuts. You have got to be patient. 'for the first month I had no choice. I could not do anything but sit around with my leg in plaster or hobble around on crutches to keep all the weight off my ankle.

Part 2

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