Unlucky break

Conor, proudly showing off his first ever team football top. Today he had been selected to play in a local tournament - which turned out to be a slightly bigger deal than I was expecting. After a kerfuffle over where we were supposed to meet, ten cars set off in convoy with the U7 and U9 teams on board. Mr B and Katherine stayed behind for her French class, and work on the MBH.

When we arrived at the tournament site, there were already fields full of cars, and what looked like thousands of people milling about, looking for their team and getting kitted out. After an hour or so of practice and warming up, the first match was underway. Conor was on the bench for the kick off, but was subbed in after five minutes (and three goals for our team). After two minutes they scored again (with Conor as a key playmaker, of course*). In the post-goal celebrations, Conor did his running really fast backwards trick ("you'll fall over one of these days and hurt yourself doing that", I always say) and promptly fell over. I presumed the crying would require a quick dust off, cuddle and maybe a sweetie, and said as much to the surrounding concerned parents. When a few minutes later it clearly hurt more, I thought a trip to the tournament medic couldn't hurt. When he pronounced it broken I felt a bit rubbish.

Quick drive to the hospital, where we were seen fabulously quickly, the arm was x-rayed, pronounced broken, plastered and we were out within 20 minutes.

So, an international career of fame and glory as Barca's striker has not got off to the most auspicious start. But I can see him laughing about this when he's interviewed in 20 years time about how he started in football...


*ie: chasing the ball like all the other little boys.