After a players meeting held the Saturday night before, where all the talk is
> about the lads given up the drink for the whole year & lads never missing a
> training session, your approach this year renewed hope that it would be
> different than the shambles that was last year.
>
> You arrive in the door from work & forget that you've training in 2 hours
> time & eat the dinner, followed by tea & whatever biscuits are still left in
> the tin of USA biscuits from the Christmas.
>
> No sooner do you stand up from the table than you remember you've to head
> down to training, your brain hits overdrive as you try to think of an injury
> that you possibly could have...that you only sustained in the last 48hrs,
> because as you explained to the players in the smoking room in the local pub
> on Saturday night, you've never felt in better shape. Jesus that was some
> session though Saturday night.
>
> You decide that you better head down to training (sure it might not be too
> bad after all its the 1st night back & the manager won't want to torture
> ye...after all the players had no respect for him last year, maybe he'll go
> easy on you tonight while the other lads are running laps). You grab the
> jacket & the gear bag & head for the door. You remember your going without
> the fags, but you reckon your better off not bringing them, after all you
> told the lads you were off them!!!
>
> You pull in to the pitch & see lads sitting in cars looking out at some lad
> whose setting out cones all round the field, you decide to head in to the
> dressing room, show the lads how serious you are!!!
>
> You wander in & find the manager & 3 selectors standing there chatting...but
> if there in here, then whose out there putting down the cones. They explain
> that they've got an army lad in for the next 2 months to get ye in good
> shape...you feel the spuds churning in your stomach...something tells you,
> you'll see them again before the nights out.
>
> You break out the brand new gear & a few lads admire the new Puma boots you
> bought, EUR180 you inform them...there also the same 1's Ciarian Whelan &
> Munnelly wear. You check the cogs, which look like something NASA came up
> with, but you reckon it'll give you that extra yard in training.
>
> You chat to the same lads that you only spoke to last year, the same lads who
> arrived late last year, are arriving late as you head out the dressing room
> door & into the bitterly cold January night air, it most definately wasn't
> this cold earlier on.
>
> You run on to the pitch & survey the cones laid out, its hard to know exactly
> what sort of football drills this lad is likely to be using here...you then
> notice that there's actually not an O'Neills football in sight. Your run
> slows down to a jog, then to a walk...no point over doing it yet!!!
>
> Training starts at 8, although its 8.15 & lads are still coming out on to the
> field...little do they realise that everytime a lad comes after 8 your
> trainer adds on an extra lap to be run at the end of training by everyone.
>
> You start off training by running aimlessly over & back across the
> field...every now & again the trainer shouts for ye to sprint...but your
> already at full tilt to stay with them as it is. After 10-15 mins of agony ye
> stop for stretching, this apparently was only the warm up...
>
> After you've finished stretching ye proceed to run around the field for what
> seems an eternity, but what the trainer informs you has only been 12 mins!!!
> At this stage your lungs are killing you & you regret ever taking up smoking
> 40 a day, & your dinner is slowly working its way back up your stomach!!!
>
> Your also well sick of the county minor player lapping you on these
> runs...who does he think he is? It comforts you a huge amount when you
> discover that he's recently been dropped off the panel, yet still trained
> tonight in the gear that you know his mother went out & bought him!!!
>
> Another 45 mins of running laps, sprints, shuttle runs, sit ups, push ups, &
> more laps, the trainer says 1 final lap to finish up. This is your moment to
> shine. You decide to hit the front early & set the pace...you go full
> pelt...you feel fitter, faster & stronger than ever before. You might have
> died for the last hour & a half or so but now your going to show them.
>
> 40 yards in to the run...you hit your 10th brick wall of the night & lads
> coast out by you, you try to stay going, but every step feels like a knife in
> the chest. Finally you give up & walk the last half a lap, where the other
> lads are just finished stretching!!! You try & stretch but your 2 legs feel
> like 2 concrete pillars so you decide there's no point & head in to the
> dressing room...a hot shower is just what you need!!!
>
> You greeted at the door by the Chairman who informs ye all that no one turned
> on the boiler for the showers so there's no hot water in it!!! You throw on
> the clothes & scab a cigeratte off 1 of the lads before you get in the car to
> drive home.
>
> As you drive home, you thank god your the only goalie in the club, they won't
> see you at training again till mid March!!!