2026-09-11, 05:02 AM - Word count:
Wee woo wee woo. The sound of the ambulance rushing down the boulevard resonated throughout the neighbouring streets. Cars, vans, motorcycles shuffled aside as best they could in the busy streets of Casablanca.
It had been a normal practice day after the fourth matchday of the season, a hard fought draw against Catalunya. Peter Apostle scoring the key goal in making IRC's first season in the Simulation Soccer League sent the crowd into wild cheers. One might have thought that Casablanca had won the game with that display. As the players took to their first training after the match, Alessandro Del Pirlo came onto the field earlier than usual. A poor early season for him made him feel the pressure in what should've been an easy going retirement tour. Seeing his teammates hit the net whilst his only contribution had been a penalty against Tokyo left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was time to get back to serious business.
It hadn't been more than 30 mins training on his own when Del Pirlo fell down on the pitch. A snap and a wild shriek broke the silence in the training grounds and brought the staff running earlier than expected.
"Call an ambulance now!"
"Send for the team doctor!"
The pain. A clear indication that this was real and not a dream. Alessandro Del Pirlo had blanked out as the staff stretchered him out to an ambulance that had arrived there within 10 minutes, a reflection to how important the club was to the city. The bumps the ambulance passed over reawakened the pain every few seconds.
"Here take this" as the striker gulped a bottle of water with some medicine that was handed to him by the team doctor riding along. Within a minute he was knocked right out once more.
"Scalpel. Forceps. Agent XIV." The SSL surgeons had spent 3 hours reconstructing Del Pirlo's leg. The miracle of science had struck again. All the stress, chaos and rush to get him fixed and stitched up as soon as possible to get the Agent XIV formula to work repairing the injury had been successful. Del Pirlo was taken to a recovery room and kept under observation overnight until it was time to wake him up.
Day 3. The bright lights on the ceiling blinded Alessandro as he woke up from what felt like a hazy dream. Looking at his surroundings he knew he wasn't home. During his convalescence he had been discretely transferred back to the club infirmary. The constant beeping of the heart rate monitor the only noise in the room. Suddenly the door burst open and the team doctor walked in.
"Ah, I see you're awake. You have us quite a scare with this incident."
"What happened? I was going for an early run and then... I don't remember..."
"You broke your femur. You were lucky the groundskeeper is an early bird. He got us right as we were coming in to work. We had you in surgery within 30 minutes"
"Woah. And how is the leg? Will I be able to play again?"
"Yeah you're fine. You were given a strong dose of agent XIV along with the surgery. I would still take it easy for a few days. Maybe wait for the coach and your colleagues next time."
"Got it. Thanks doc."
Well great. The desire to get back into shape bit him right on the butt within less than an hour. The shame and having to face his teammates and the coaches after this event. The media? They'll have written headlines already. Will he have to make a statement in front of them? He didn't much like their ilk but having them on his side was what got him far in life.
Within 30 minutes, the head coach came into the room,
"Hey Alex, how are ya? I've got bad and good news for you. Which one do you want to hear first? Ah scratch that the bad news is you're behind schedule in your training after this stunt. You'll be doing some overtime. Also you're banned from training on your own. I've told the staff and groundskeepers that so don't try to sneak around, you're not a young branch anymore."
"And what's the good news?"
"We managed to keep this whole thing under wraps from the media. Told them you were given a couple days off after the last match. No one but the staff and the doctors knows what happened so you won't have to face them. I know you're not much of a talker so enjoy this gift from us. Now let's get back to it."
This was insane. All his worries gone. It all felt like a long dream. Was it even 3 days later? Was it all real? Alessandro stepped down from the infirmary bed and got dressed. Light jumps, a stretch and back out he went to get ready for the next matchday. He had much work before him to be in shape for then. Stepping onto the pitch with his teammates it really felt like nothing had happened. But it was real. Even with all the technology and science available they couldn't remove the memory of the event. The memory of the pain.
(877 words)
It had been a normal practice day after the fourth matchday of the season, a hard fought draw against Catalunya. Peter Apostle scoring the key goal in making IRC's first season in the Simulation Soccer League sent the crowd into wild cheers. One might have thought that Casablanca had won the game with that display. As the players took to their first training after the match, Alessandro Del Pirlo came onto the field earlier than usual. A poor early season for him made him feel the pressure in what should've been an easy going retirement tour. Seeing his teammates hit the net whilst his only contribution had been a penalty against Tokyo left a bitter taste in his mouth. It was time to get back to serious business.
It hadn't been more than 30 mins training on his own when Del Pirlo fell down on the pitch. A snap and a wild shriek broke the silence in the training grounds and brought the staff running earlier than expected.
"Call an ambulance now!"
"Send for the team doctor!"
The pain. A clear indication that this was real and not a dream. Alessandro Del Pirlo had blanked out as the staff stretchered him out to an ambulance that had arrived there within 10 minutes, a reflection to how important the club was to the city. The bumps the ambulance passed over reawakened the pain every few seconds.
"Here take this" as the striker gulped a bottle of water with some medicine that was handed to him by the team doctor riding along. Within a minute he was knocked right out once more.
"Scalpel. Forceps. Agent XIV." The SSL surgeons had spent 3 hours reconstructing Del Pirlo's leg. The miracle of science had struck again. All the stress, chaos and rush to get him fixed and stitched up as soon as possible to get the Agent XIV formula to work repairing the injury had been successful. Del Pirlo was taken to a recovery room and kept under observation overnight until it was time to wake him up.
Day 3. The bright lights on the ceiling blinded Alessandro as he woke up from what felt like a hazy dream. Looking at his surroundings he knew he wasn't home. During his convalescence he had been discretely transferred back to the club infirmary. The constant beeping of the heart rate monitor the only noise in the room. Suddenly the door burst open and the team doctor walked in.
"Ah, I see you're awake. You have us quite a scare with this incident."
"What happened? I was going for an early run and then... I don't remember..."
"You broke your femur. You were lucky the groundskeeper is an early bird. He got us right as we were coming in to work. We had you in surgery within 30 minutes"
"Woah. And how is the leg? Will I be able to play again?"
"Yeah you're fine. You were given a strong dose of agent XIV along with the surgery. I would still take it easy for a few days. Maybe wait for the coach and your colleagues next time."
"Got it. Thanks doc."
Well great. The desire to get back into shape bit him right on the butt within less than an hour. The shame and having to face his teammates and the coaches after this event. The media? They'll have written headlines already. Will he have to make a statement in front of them? He didn't much like their ilk but having them on his side was what got him far in life.
Within 30 minutes, the head coach came into the room,
"Hey Alex, how are ya? I've got bad and good news for you. Which one do you want to hear first? Ah scratch that the bad news is you're behind schedule in your training after this stunt. You'll be doing some overtime. Also you're banned from training on your own. I've told the staff and groundskeepers that so don't try to sneak around, you're not a young branch anymore."
"And what's the good news?"
"We managed to keep this whole thing under wraps from the media. Told them you were given a couple days off after the last match. No one but the staff and the doctors knows what happened so you won't have to face them. I know you're not much of a talker so enjoy this gift from us. Now let's get back to it."
This was insane. All his worries gone. It all felt like a long dream. Was it even 3 days later? Was it all real? Alessandro stepped down from the infirmary bed and got dressed. Light jumps, a stretch and back out he went to get ready for the next matchday. He had much work before him to be in shape for then. Stepping onto the pitch with his teammates it really felt like nothing had happened. But it was real. Even with all the technology and science available they couldn't remove the memory of the event. The memory of the pain.
(877 words)
![[Image: 6J2WgCi.png]](https://i.imgur.com/6J2WgCi.png)
