2024-10-22, 01:55 PM - Word count:
From the Diary of Dizzy Martin
21st October 2024: Matchday Nine
Dear Diary,
Today, it happened. Everything I've been working towards for all this time, since I started this path- every early morning cross-country run, every rain-soaked training drill in the dead of winter, every crack-of-dawn trip to the gym when every impulse is telling me to stay in bed. All of it was leading to this- my first match.
I was nervous, I'm not going to lie. Sitting in that Atlético Medellin dressing room, looking at that gold and red shirt- my gold and red shirt- the number 7 on the back, I felt like I was going to be sick. I was looking around the locker room, seeing the faces of the other Academy players, all of whom had long since got past this step and were taking it in their stride.
The mood, dear diary, was one of positivity. After a rough start to the season, things had started to look up for Atléti. A 6-0 defeat the last time we met today's opponents, Victoria Falls, looked like it must have resulted in some serious soul-searching. It was a humiliating defeat, and from the way they were talking before today's game, I have to admit that it seemed the defensive duo of Charlie Chambers and George Shaheen had taken personal offence at letting six get past them. Although clean sheets were hard to come by at this level, letting Victoria Falls put six past us was something they were keen not to repeat.
The other revelation that had started turning the season around was the arrival of Jinchou Nootazuki, the quick-thinking, fleet-footed striker the side had desperately been missing. Too many of our early-season fixtures had been punctuated by creating chances but not finding the net- with five goals in his first two appearances, it was clear that was no longer an issue.
A defence with renewed resolve and a free-flowing source of goals had seen us win the last two matches, both 3-2. For me, that made it all the more intimidating to step out onto the pitch for the first time. In a struggling team, there's collective blame, but for a form team, you really don't want to be the one making the mistake to sink a performance.
Coach started me alongside Florian Gaisberg. In training, I'd seen that he was someone who used his brain as much as his feet- he was always in the right place and knew what was going on around him. I liked that- that complemented my game nicely. You know, dear diary, that I'm much more about huffing and puffing and kicking anything or anyone that comes near me. I'm more than happy to just scrap to get the ball and let him pick up the pieces once I've won it- that suits me perfectly.
And now I sit here in bed at the end of the day, dear diary, the match itself is a blur- five minutes of settling in, followed by ninety plus minutes of running around and doing battle. It felt good- so good. Natural. The team treated me like I'd been on that pitch with them all my life- it felt like I'd arrived. Hell, I think I even had a shot at one point, although it's probably for the best that it was blocked immediately! We won, 1-0, with Charlie nodding in a corner- that man is unstoppable in the air. And it was a convincing win, too- our third win on the bounce, and second clean sheet of the season. And I had a part to play in achieving it.
So yes, dear diary, today, it happened. Today I became a footballer, and a part of Atlético Medellin's history. Even if I lose my leg tomorrow, and never play football again, that goes in the record books- Dizzy Martin is an Atlético Medellin player. So yeah, throw all the sprint drills in the freezing cold you like at me, you won't be able to wipe this smile from my face.
21st October 2024: Matchday Nine
Dear Diary,
Today, it happened. Everything I've been working towards for all this time, since I started this path- every early morning cross-country run, every rain-soaked training drill in the dead of winter, every crack-of-dawn trip to the gym when every impulse is telling me to stay in bed. All of it was leading to this- my first match.
I was nervous, I'm not going to lie. Sitting in that Atlético Medellin dressing room, looking at that gold and red shirt- my gold and red shirt- the number 7 on the back, I felt like I was going to be sick. I was looking around the locker room, seeing the faces of the other Academy players, all of whom had long since got past this step and were taking it in their stride.
The mood, dear diary, was one of positivity. After a rough start to the season, things had started to look up for Atléti. A 6-0 defeat the last time we met today's opponents, Victoria Falls, looked like it must have resulted in some serious soul-searching. It was a humiliating defeat, and from the way they were talking before today's game, I have to admit that it seemed the defensive duo of Charlie Chambers and George Shaheen had taken personal offence at letting six get past them. Although clean sheets were hard to come by at this level, letting Victoria Falls put six past us was something they were keen not to repeat.
The other revelation that had started turning the season around was the arrival of Jinchou Nootazuki, the quick-thinking, fleet-footed striker the side had desperately been missing. Too many of our early-season fixtures had been punctuated by creating chances but not finding the net- with five goals in his first two appearances, it was clear that was no longer an issue.
A defence with renewed resolve and a free-flowing source of goals had seen us win the last two matches, both 3-2. For me, that made it all the more intimidating to step out onto the pitch for the first time. In a struggling team, there's collective blame, but for a form team, you really don't want to be the one making the mistake to sink a performance.
Coach started me alongside Florian Gaisberg. In training, I'd seen that he was someone who used his brain as much as his feet- he was always in the right place and knew what was going on around him. I liked that- that complemented my game nicely. You know, dear diary, that I'm much more about huffing and puffing and kicking anything or anyone that comes near me. I'm more than happy to just scrap to get the ball and let him pick up the pieces once I've won it- that suits me perfectly.
And now I sit here in bed at the end of the day, dear diary, the match itself is a blur- five minutes of settling in, followed by ninety plus minutes of running around and doing battle. It felt good- so good. Natural. The team treated me like I'd been on that pitch with them all my life- it felt like I'd arrived. Hell, I think I even had a shot at one point, although it's probably for the best that it was blocked immediately! We won, 1-0, with Charlie nodding in a corner- that man is unstoppable in the air. And it was a convincing win, too- our third win on the bounce, and second clean sheet of the season. And I had a part to play in achieving it.
So yes, dear diary, today, it happened. Today I became a footballer, and a part of Atlético Medellin's history. Even if I lose my leg tomorrow, and never play football again, that goes in the record books- Dizzy Martin is an Atlético Medellin player. So yeah, throw all the sprint drills in the freezing cold you like at me, you won't be able to wipe this smile from my face.
