Mason’s nightmare, but players do get a second chance at building a career
You always want what you can’t have. It’s a natural human reaction. We place a higher value on things that are scarce and a lower one on what we find in abundance. Like diamonds and rocks.
Perhaps more appropriately, as it was Valentine’s Day this week, there is no one you want to be with more than the person who has just said “It’s not you, it’s me,” as if that will somehow soothe the searing pain of rejection.
No matter how many suitors you may have, they aren’t the one.
The feeling is magnified when it’s a self-inflicted decision to make something off limits, as anyone on a diet can testify to.
There’s nothing more you want in the whole world than white bread when you are trying to cut out wheat from your daily dietary intake.
It’s a survival instinct of sorts. A need for that feeling of wanting; the anticipation of gaining what you don’t have heightens the senses. And when we get what we want, the sensation leaves us ... and we end up missing that too.
It’s exactly how Ryan Mason will be feeling right now.
No matter how much he has tried to come to terms with the prospect of his injury ending his career prematurely, the feeling of loss and wanting synchronised will be difficult to escape.
It’s very early in the process of grieving for his loss of course. If you’ve made it as far as Mason has in the professional game, football isn’t just a job, it’s a massive part of who you are as a person. Having that taken away from you brings a sense of injustice at having your fate taken out of your hands.
For the time being, perspective becomes distorted. Bradley Lowery’s parents could argue a case for what is truly unfair and, of course, in comparison, Ryan Mason has been lucky and that’s the best way of looking at it.
As sad as it is to see someone’s career cut short in its prime, don’t let anyone fool you into thinking there aren’t far more important things in life than football.
As players, we think we’re indestructible.
Even when get injured, broken bones and torn muscles are just obstacles to get over.
I’ve had “the talk” with the consultant who put the metal plate and screw into my right wrist to help fix the bone that broke twice and wouldn’t heal on its own.
“You do understand you won’t be able to play again after this, don’t you?” he said.
“At least, nowhere near the same level you’re at now.”
I didn’t know that, actually.
Nobody had even mentioned that as a possibility before and now, a few hours before the operation, this was what I was being told.
The magnitude of the shock with which it hit me meant that I didn’t fully take it in.
He was talking rubbish, in my book, and I went on to prove him wrong.
Strapping it up before each training session and match became part of my daily routine but that’s the difference. This was a serious wrist injury, not a serious head injury.
I’d have risked amputation to have gone on to play as long as I did. That looks an even more stupid statement now I’ve written it down, but it wasn’t a risk to my life.
I joined Barnsley in the summer of 2009, at the same time Iain Hume was beginning to return to training after suffering a fractured skull in a clash with Sheffield United’s Chris Morgan in the previous November.
You could understand the severity of the injury just by looking at the scars on the side of his head.
Talking to him and hearing the details of the aftermath, the internal bleeding and ensuing operations to piece his skull back together, it’s incredible that he’s still playing almost 10 years later.
Call it bravery, call it stupidity, it’s the same belief that helps you rise above the thousands of others dreaming of being a footballer that makes you think you can return to the game against all the odds.
If the decision to continue is actually bravery, then it’s trumped by Mason’s decision to retire.
He will have been guided by the medical team who have helped him back from such a horrific injury but ultimately the decision is his. From afar, you can only say it is the right one.
We always talk negatively about the short lifespan we have as footballers but that needs to change.
For too long I held on to a life that was lost and if there was only one piece of advice I can give to Ryan Mason, it’s to appreciate what he did as a career, but to move on and forget about ifs, buts, maybes and what he might have missed out on.
Easier said than done, but I wish that someone had told me that sooner than I realised it myself.
It won’t feel like it now, but we are fortunate we have lives and careers that end just as many people’s get going.
Because not only do we get the chance to live out our dreams, we also get the chance of a second life while we are still at an age young enough to make a good fist of it – and that’s what our outlook should be.
Good luck to Ryan, whatever his new life has in store for him.