Two More Weeks

- Injured again?
- Yes, again.
- What have you done (this time)?
- Just my ankle
- Didn't you-
- Yes, it's the other one
- Ah right, that's shit
- Yes, it is rather shit.
- How long do you think it'll be before you're playing again?
- About two weeks.

He'd been telling people two weeks for about two weeks now and this fact now dawned on him.

- You know next week is our first cup match.
- Oh really? Who against?
- ...we need you back.
- Yes. Well, you know, we'll see.

Can't come back too soon - what would be the point? Injure it again? Lose the match anyway? Play like a fool and injure it? There was so little to be gained. Mustn't allow himself to come back too soon. He didn't want to speak to the coach but he was too decent to allow himself to totally slip off the radar. There were some remnants of professionalism left.

- Well the physio says you're okay now.
- Well, I'm not.

The aforementioned team-mates went on with their days, but not before the typical end to their conversations:

- Are you coming to the social tonight?
- No.
- Oh, okay.

He should have known better.