Jason’s leg that had been shooting forward ca to a sudden stop due to getting stuck in the artificial grass turf and with such a sudden stop of movent, the brunt of that impact was his achilles tendon.
Jason fell to the ground imdiately, sure that he felt sothing give as his leg hit the ground.
He could swear that he heard sothing pop... Or snap, and whichever it was... It definitely wasn’t a good sign.
Without Jason to chase the ball, it rolled out of play and the referee blew for a goal kick.
{He’s gone down and the chance goes begging! Tottenham will have to try again!}
Adjusting his socks, Jason tried to figure out what had happened, but he didn’t feel any instant pain, just a feeling that sothing was wrong, however, he couldn’t put a finger on it.
Only when he tried to stand did he realize where the problem was.
His right calf ached a little as he stood, and when he tried to jog back up the pitch, a sharp pain shot through as he tried to push off on his right leg.
"Fu*k," he gasped, breathing heavily and sitting back on the ground imdiately, raising his hand for the referee’s attention.
{He’s down again and that’s not a good sign}
The comntator’s words instantly made all the Tottenham fans silent and worry shot through them.
The referee quickly jogged over, as well as other Tottenham players.
After a quick check on Jason’s situation with Jason telling him that he could barely stand on his own, the referee allowed the dics to co onto the pitch.
{The dics are coming on. The player is in clearly more discomfort than his face shows}
Jason told the dics the symptoms and the dics quickly got to checking.
A touch test, range of motion, and Thompson test later, the dics affird the thoughts the had the mont they heard the symptoms from Jason.
"He shouldn’t continue,"
"He can’t even continue," they whispered to themselves before telling the referee of their decision.
{They’re helping him off the field and it looks like Tottenham will be making a change}
{Things just went from bad to the worse for the Tottenham players. An injury after such a beautiful display}
{The opposition fans are applauding as he leaves the field. He’s been a thorn in their side as soon as he got on the pitch, but they wouldn’t wish an injury on him... At least so of them}
{Let’s hope this injury wouldn’t keep him out for long. The Tottenham fans must be wishing the sa}
After being helped off he was guided just past the bench area and his boot was taken off, first aid beginning imdiately.
Soon, ice was being held to the Achilles area and the area was slowly beginning to swell.
In all of this, Jason just sat calmly as if he weren’t the one injured. He had been injured enough in his past reality that there was nothing new about the emotional impact of an injury.
That wasn’t to say he was completely unaffected, however, he had learnt from experience that no amount of sadness, frustration, or anger would shorten his recovery ti by even one hour.
Instead of getting angry or frustrated, he chose silent acceptance.
While his teammates and other players would be contesting in the premier league for the next few weeks, he was getting a forced vacation, crutches, and a hellish recovery schedule in the upcoming future.
...
Okay, that was pretty annoying, but there was still nothing he could do to change it, after all, he had been sent to the past with nothing but his mories.
Unlike so other protagonists who had systems that aided them through doping... He didn’t get nada.
While Jason was deep in his thoughts, the team’s physio who had checked Jason was talking to Nuno.
"This isn’t a knock. He’ll be out for weeks, months even," he told Nuno.
"Sh*t," Nuno cursed.
As a manager, he knew what Jason brought to his team, despite the guy not having even played a full 90 minutes.
"We did tell you he’s at injury risk," the dic replied.
"You said his ankle, that doesn’t look like his ankle," Nuno almost scread.
"Well, ankle, shmankle. It looks like his achilles tendon has a partial tear and it looks like it might be serious, a 2b, maybe even bordering a 2c," the physio replied.
"Speak English," Nuno shot back.
"Shouldn’t it be Portuguese, you know, as you’re a Portuguese and all, okay sorry sorry," the physio joked a bit, but his smile disappeared when he saw the dirty look Nuno was giving him.
"It’s severity. A 2b tear is when about fifteen to thirty percent of the fibers in that area are torn. If that’s his situation, we’re looking at 4-6 weeks,"
"2c is thirty to fifty percent and we’re talking 8-12 weeks, but if it’s a full rupture then well... Surgery, he might be out anywhere from 6 months to a whole year,"
"But I can safely say that’s only about a 20% chance," The man shrugged.
"20%? Why 20? 20 is too high. You’ve not even done a diagnosis yet," Nuno was losing his mind.
What he had watched from the other players today had refreshed his mind that there was a lot to be done in this team and losing one of the most impressive players he had at this mont to a year long injury was the worst that could happen.
He could have been sacked thrice within a year.
"Hey Nuno, I’ve been a physio longer than you’ve been coach, don’t you think I’d know an Achilles injury when I see one, and that I’ll be able to estimate,"
"Just relax. Worry isn’t going to solve anything. We just have to make sure he’s back on ti and this ti, we cannot... Skimp on his recovery,"
"We have to prevent further injuries no matter what. Forget whatever the board wants, no more rushing players back from injuries... Ah wait, you wouldn’t know about that,"
"Anyways, I’ll keep him settled and we’ll do a full diagnosis when we get back to the club," the physio ended the conversation.
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