So easy to be left cut up by a ruthless game
Picture the scene. A teenage kid had been on trial for a week at Dundee United.
A bashful midfielder, decent player and a boy who had come into training every day wearing a shirt, tie and burgundy suit.
Friday lunchtime, a dressing-room full of men in the scud and he began to put on his clothes.
It was, unusually, packed with players.
Each garment he attempted to pull on fell in bits to the floor, his socks, underpants and three-piece had been shredded to bits.
Sabotage in the name of banter – and the tears started to well up.
The smart move would have been to abandon his attempts to get dressed but on he went as a shirt sleeve dropped off to the laughter of all and sundry watching with glee. Not me.
He’d told me his parents had bought him a suit to try to make a good impression and it was a torturous episode that remains fresh in the memory.
Just who had grabbed the scissors from the physio room will remain nameless – but this was a joke too far.
Even his shoelaces had been sliced apart.
Paul Sturrock arrived on the scene but even he stifled a smile as he attempted to find the culprit. The kid was never to be seen again.
What damage though to his psyche?
This story came back into focus in a week when two footballers spoke of their personal issues trying to cope with no longer being involved in the professional game.
That’s a horrible tale but it highlights the dressing-room environment that is a hard school to graduate from.
Footballers all suffer from the Peter Pan syndrome.
Then when it’s all over the comfort blanket of being cosseted well into adulthood is taken away.
Having to adapt to real life can become a huge issue. This isn’t a ‘what woes me’ state of affairs but a fact.
Charlie Nicholas arrived at Clyde’s Broadwood Stadium one morning and he was injured while I was recovering from a broken leg.
We waited for the squad to head off to training in the minibus before he shouted: ‘Right Parksy, go and get the golf clubs from my boot.’
We spent the next hour using the pitch as our course and hit shot after shot around the stadium using gate numbers as our holes.
It’s a happier but just as mental story of what life can be like as a professional footballer. Then there’s the pressure of having to perform. A thick skin sometimes isn’t enough when a manager leaves you in the stands or ferociously berates you after another missed chance.
One former teammate struggles to leave the past behind. Every night out is a chance to reminisce.
He has never been able to move on. There are clearly issues as he only ever talks of his time as a footballer and there’s a sadness there – and he’s not alone.
As Jim Chapman says on these pages, players are human beings and there has to be help for those who don’t have a proper exit strategy when their last ball is kicked.
But what ever happened to the boy in the suit? His dream was torn to shreds before it could even begin.
A thick skin sometimes isn’t enough when your manager berates you or leaves you in stand