Hey, it's James (founder of Matchfit Conditioning)

If it's cool with you, I'd like to share my personal story about how I went from “wonder kid” at a pro club in England, told I would never player again, in rehab for almost 4 years…all the way back to facing the Australian Hyundai A League Champions in my first come-back season.

I've got some valuable insights about the world of football and fitness that I really want to share with you, because: 

• I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did.

• I can help you to save months if not years, accelerate your progress and avoid some serious pitfalls on your journey towards the top.

• So few players know this stuff and it's my mission to increase awareness.

It started like this...

As a youth player I spent 9 years at my local professional club in England, league one side Wycombe Wanderers FC.

For the majority of those 9 years, I was always mentioned in the same breathe as one of the few players throughout the entire academy who had a serious chance of making it as a pro.

I was always high in confidence, rarely got injured and consistently felt like I was one of the highest performers in my team, in fact I was often training and playing with the age group above me.

I was training relentlessly, and fully focused on fulfilling my potential, probably like you are now.

In my head, I had it that I would be signing on as a youth pro early and leaving school at 16 to train full time.

Since joining the academy at 9 years old, everyone at the club had big expectations for me and seemed to be following my progress closely.

Whilst at Wycombe, I had turned down opportunities with Southampton and Watford, I was happy at Wycombe and progressing well, leaving was an unnecessary risk.

When I had just turned 16, I was given an opportunity to train with the 1st team (I’m a centre back by the way).

I naturally was one of the sturdier players for my age and had always read the game well, so slotting into that 1st team session was pretty seamless, the main step up was the speed but I knew with time I would adjust to that.

When I joined in with the 1st team, I was marking Nathan Tyson - an electric striker who was still in the England U21’s squad - and playing alongside Mike Williamson and Roger Johnson (who went on to play for Newcastle Utd and Wolves in the Premier League).

The first team manager was ex Tottenham player (and England Assistant Manager) John Gorman. 

This was the perfect environment for me to learn my trade I thought...

After that first taste of 1st team pro football, I was hooked on doing everything I could to get their quicker.

Full 1st team debut by the time I was 18, that was my aim.

But…

Things didn't work out how I had hoped.

At the time I couldn’t understand why (now I know how I could have putthings right) but, the following season I seriously struggled to perform.

My age group was combined with the year above, who had playing priority because they were on the verge of signing their youth pro contracts or being released.

We had a new coach, who was old school (to say the least).

Up until that season, I hadn’t been subbed once in 8 years and was always captain.

My new coach couldn't have cared less, he didn’t know me back then.

I was told to expect to be on the bench, my "turn" was next year.

To make matters worse, he was what you would call a ‘meat head’ centre back in his playing days for Leicester city and he didn’t take well to the ball playing style that my previous coaches had instilled in me over the previous years.

“Stop being on the ball so much and give it to a midfielder.”

This was the message that was repeatedly yelled towards me in training sessions.

I felt totally lost and confused.

His instructions completely contrasted my past coaches, who had always encouraged and praised my ability to play my way out of trouble and remain calm under pressure.

I can vividly remember him stopping a keep ball session as I received the ball and shouting at me for being "too involved in the play for a centre back".

"STOP!!"

He marched over to me, took the ball and played it to someone else before turning back to face me.

"That's not your job, just win the ball back and give it to someone else. I've counted 8 times you've been on the ball in the last two minutes, you're a centre back”.

My team mates watched in bewilderment...

How was this guy coaching us?

Should I start changing my style now to please him?

After all, Wycombe Wanderers first team wasn’t my ultimate dream…that was just the closest pro club.

Liverpool first team was my childhood dream, and to play at that level, "you need to be good on the ball" I kept re-assuring myself.

Over the next 2-3 months I was (what can be best described as) 'bullied' into replicating my coaches style of play when he was a player.

My jobs were:

• Hitting "percentage" long balls into areas
• Heading clear everything that came my way
• Giving the ball to other players as soon as I got it

My form started to dip significantly.

As I got less match time, I started to pick up injuries in training (I was rarely injured before).

My psychology completely changed too.

• I was becoming less aggressive every week.

• I feared being on the ball.

• For the first time ever, I doubted my ability.

• I was a shadow of my former self.

I never stopped giving 100%, but my edge was disappearing.

Before I knew it, the following season I found myself competing for my pro contract with a new centre back that the coach had brought in from his previous club.

He was average at best (in my opinion).

I was now watching a player (who had been at the club for about 3 weeks) be in with a chance of taking my pro contract away from me.

You can’t be serious?

I had worked for 8 years for this.

I knew I was better than him, but for many reasons I wasn’t able to prove that to my coach.

And to make matters worse, the guy who had brought me into the club at 8 years old and given me that opportunity training with the first team – had just been fired.

There now wasn't a single coach remaining at the club who had been involved in my progress over the last 9 years.

I knew what was coming…

Not quite what I expected, but in no way what I wanted.

A ‘non-contract’ offer.

i.e. Stay at school and come in and train with us during the week when you can.

No thanks…

It was time for a change.

Maybe I should focus on my studies? And play semi-pro whilst I figured this out.

Looking back…

I still can’t believe how I fell from such heights at Wycombe.

Was the new coach to blame?

Absolutely, he played a huge part – there’s no doubt in my mind about that.

There were 6 or 7 players in our squad who’s talent he had dismantled.

But this was the real problem…

I didn’t take responsibility for my own progression. I was expecting others to bring it out of me.

I was HOPING my previous form would come back.

I thought it was the coach’s fault if I wasn’t playing to my potential.

I was depending on the day that the coach would be replaced by someone better.

I was feeling sorry for myself.

I clearly remember crying myself to sleep on more than one occasion.

I left Wycombe with my self-belief at an all-time low.

I have to be honest, I was very reluctant to take that step down to semi-professional football.

Not only because I saw it as a step backwards, but because my entire identity at school growing up was ‘the guy who plays for a pro club’.

I didn’t know how I would fit in anymore without that label.

Although this was probably the lowest point in my football career so far, it actually ended up being the most important.

(Setting off for my first game for Wycombe, age 9)

The logical thing to do was continue with my studies and try and make my way back up to professional level through joining my local semi-pro football team.

I’d never contemplated being faced with this situation as I grew up, things were going so well just 18 months prior that I had envisaged quitting school and playing football full time.

Not the other way around.

To top it off my older cousin was about to break into the Blackburn Rovers first team and was an England prodigy throughout his teens...

I was so hungry to follow in his footsteps.

I was determined to make it happen.

So I altered my mindset…

Semi-pro was a 'side step', not a step back.

By leaving Wycombe I could re-discover my old form in a fresh environment.

At the time, I was still ashamed to admit to people that things had fallen apart, they would inevitably be disappointed and think less of me.

But I put that to one side...this whole experience had actually ignited an even stronger fire within me to succeed and prove to myself that I could do it.

Semi-pro football started well, even in the first training session I started to feel like my old self again and the enjoyment of playing crept back in.

I was playing with freedom and dominating every attacker I came up against.

A few months in however...

It dawned on me that the intensity and structure of the training sessions was nowhere near what I was used to.

And the mindset was different, failure was more openly accepted and none of my team mates had ambitions of playing pro.

I was concerned...

This would have a negative affect over time and subconsciously, my engrained standards would begin to slip and widen the gap between where I was and where I wanted to be.

But I had no other club options at the time and only one year of school left…

I decided to ride it out until I had more freedom.

From there things really picked up.

Whilst captaining the county team in a cup final I was scouted by one of the England Schoolboys coaches.

He invited me to the first stage of England trials, a 7-day training camp in the summer of 2007.

It’s not a route I had considered before, but I was excited to learn that Michael Owen, Ryan Giggs and Jermaine Defoe had all represented England Schoolboys as teenagers.

I felt empowered, this was an opportunity to regain control of my career.

I made a few important changes in order to prepare:

1) I started doing more training by myself.

It was down to me to make sure I was as fit as Icould be and felt confident on the ball again, I couldn’t leave it to chance ‘hoping’ that my team sessions would do this for me.

Every day after school I went into the sports hall by myself and trained my butt off.

I knew I wasn’t as fit as I should be, because I knew how fit I was when I was at Wycombe.

2) I spent more time with the people who still believed I had time to become pro.

I realised that who I surrounded myself with was pivotal to my energy, confidence and drive to succeed. I needed to be around the people who ‘got it’ and had seen what I was capable of.

3) I started learning how to develop a stronger mindset, focusing on current sources of self-doubt.

This was a major one.

I wanted to hit the trials all guns blazing, confidence was key.

I couldn’t let my form deteriorate like before.

I knew that the coaches would be analysing us 24/7.

I knew that because they told us they would be.

They watched our body language and every grain of food we put into our mouths.

Especially as a centre back, displaying physical presence and leadership qualities is crucial.

I already knew that acting confident in the face of a striker could put them off their game before a ball's even been kicked.

These changes proved to be pivotal.

When day 1 of the training camp arrived…I felt more polished and ready to perform than I had in years.

There were about 60 players there, who had travelled from all over the country to attend.

We all made our way to the reception area, suited and booted, towing our kit bags and suitcases - ready to be allocated a room each.
 
No time was wasted...

A quick introduction saw us split into four even groups.

45 minutes later we were out on the pitches warming up for our first training session.
 
I instantly felt back at home.

Training was structured, intense and the group I was in had been matched with a coach from Aston Villa.
 
He made it clear from day one exactly what was expected.

Aimless long balls and thoughtless play would not "cut the mustard."
 
If anyone accidentally attempted such as thing, the session was instantly stopped and brought back.

He’d then explain why such play was unacceptable and would hinder your progress:
 
“You will never reach the top if you can’tremain composed under pressure and play your way out of trouble. Trust yourability to get on the ball and play. It's fine to fail if you are attempting todo the right thing. Leave the long ball stuff to the players who are happy toplay at a lower level, you won’t find them here.”
 
This was the confirmation I had been looking forsince leaving Wycombe Wanderers.

It reaffirmed my resistance to being moulded into a ‘meat head’ centre back.
 
We had a class coach, a group of class players and I felt myself really thriving in this environment.
 
Lesson 1: making sure you’re in the correct environment to thrive is pivotal to your success.
 
Oddly, that week threw out another unexpected lesson which tied in with lesson 1 – but it didn’t reveal itself until a few years later.
 
I won’t call him out…

But there was one player in our group who had proven to be well off the mark.

His performances and attitude were almost laughable at times.
 
He was still a great guy - but it was as if he was there by mistake.
 
The players knew it, the coach knew it and he most definitely clocked on to what everyone was thinking. 
 
By the end of the week he had almost lost complete interest, he knew his chances of progressing were zero.
 
Why am I telling you this?

Because he went on to play professionally and now captains a team in League One of English football, he has also represented his country at full international level.
 
Lesson 2: Don’t ever think something is impossible, take your career into your own hands, not every player thrives in the same environment.
 
Honestly, to this day I still think I’m seeing things when he’s playing on TV.

But equally he will always have my upmost respect.

To have an experience like that, turn it around and come out as a professional footballer on the other side, it's absolutely fantastic.
 
Anyway…

That week was a massive success for me.
 
Not only was I in the best form I’d been in in years, the Villa coach personally pulled me aside at the end of the week to tell me how impressed he was and how he thought I had a "very bright future".
 
I felt confident and assured that this was the pathway which would lead me back to playing professionally.
 
Sure enough a week later, I received a letter to congratulate me on reaching the next stage of England trials – they had now whittled us down to 35 players.

 I was delighted and immediately notified my close friends and family.

Having been so focused preparing for that first week of trials, I had pretty much neglected any type of social life for the last few months.

My mates were eager to get me out again.

So, against my best intentions, I agreed to come along to a house party for a short while one Saturday night...

I wouldn’t be persuaded into touching alcohol –I’d just show my face and let my hair down for a couple of hours to prove I was still ‘cool’.

Whilst I didn’t drink, the party hosts had hired a huge inflatable assault course (a bit like the one below) for the back garden…and I did get roped into that, LITERALLY.

That’s when it happened.

I was standing on the platform at the top of the inflatable assault course with two guys from school, a rope ladder descended either side.

Mid conversation, one of them thought it would be funny to push me backwards off the platform and onto the inflatable surface a few meters below.

If only that had happened…

Instead, mid-fall my foot became tangled in one of the rope ladders.

"POP."

That was the sound my knee made as my foot anchored and the rest of my body was flung downwards.

I screamed in excruciating pain.

I remained hanging in that position for about a minute as my mate attempted to free my foot.

I didn’t know whether to be angry or sad.

Tears filled my eyes as I attempted to walk.

I knew this was bad.

One split-second of stupidity…

The next day a physio confirmed I had torn the medial ligament in my right knee.

What’s worse, I saw the guy who pushed me chuckling about it.

He didn’t get it.

But I couldn’t be angry at him, it was my fault really – I knew I shouldn’t have gone to the party and I knew I shouldn’t have stepped foot on that inflatable.

But I still did it, I was trying to please everyone.

Lesson 3: Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, ‘be boring’ and put yourself first. You can’t please everyone 100% of the time. You can’t expect everyone to care about your goals as much as you do. Act inaccordance with your goals and surround yourself with people who 'get it' and will keep you on track.

This was a DISASTER.

Not only did it mean I couldn’t train properly in preparation for the next trials (6 weeks later), the physio informed me that I would out for at least 10 weeks.
 
Not possible.

It just wasn’t an option.

One way or another I had to make sure I was available for the trials.
 
We were informed that they would only be cutting 5 players in the next trial as it would be a one off 90-minute match. The remaining 30 would then progress to a series of training camp weekends at Lilleshall.
 
This was music to my ears!

I just needed to get my injury to the point where I could get through 90 minutes...

If I was successful in being selected for the next stage, I’d then have an extra 6 weeks to prepare for the intense training camp to follow.
 
Fast forward 6 weeks...

It was game day.

I arrived at the ground excited, nervous and praying that my knee would hold out.
 
I was named in the starting line-up.

I looked up at the team sheet.

4 Donnelly, 5 Smalling.

I looked around for “Smalling” - I was eager to discuss our game plan with him in the brief time we had before going out to warm up.
 
He was nowhere to be seen.

Time ticked on, still no Smalling.

We couldn’t wait any longer and were instructed to get out onto the pitch to start warming up.

About 5 minutes before the warm up finished...a skinny guy with an afro hurried out onto the pitch, stuffing his shin pads down his socks as he approached the coach profusely apologising for being so late.

“Get yourself warmed up, you’re starting. Just…!” 

I swear if he’d been another 10 seconds late, he’d have found himself sat on the bench for most of the match, if not all of it.

But I guess fate was on his side that day...

The match was a success.

My knee had just about held out, I was happy with my performance and best of all Chris and I formed a formidable centre back partnership pretty much from the get-go.

Our styles seemed to complement each other’s perfectly and we developed an almost telepathic understanding.

Why was I particularly happy about that...?

Because the coaches had noticed too.

The fact that we played alongside each other so well would give us both an advantage when it came to progressing – we would be first down on the team sheet, and the rest of the team could be built around our "classy" centre back partnership.

A week passed, the letter came.

BOOM! I’d made the cut – but they’d decided to cut down to 27 instead of 30.

Time to focus back on my knee rehab and prepare for the first training camp at Lilleshall in 6 weeks’ time.

As you probably know, “Smalling” went on to play for Man Utd and England.

He’s played in the World Cup, European Championships, won the Champions League and won the Premier League.

I say this not to 'brag' about playing with him - that is 100% not my intention, but to demonstrate the following point...

I first met Chris when he was 18. Up until that point he had never been at a professional club for much longer than a few weeks.

Was he a good player? Yes.

Was he clearly better than anybody else? No.

But, he was very confident on the ball and extremely fit.

I’m just demonstrating the point that you should never write off your chances, you don’t know what the world has planned for you, never give up and think that you’ve missed your chance, you’re not "good enough" or doubt your ability.

It’s up to you to discover what’s possible.

How is this for inspiration…it could be anyone, why not you?

Smalling (Left), Me (Right) November 2007

Just 2 years later. Never Write Yourself Off.

Just to recap…

I had just made it down to the cut of 27 for the next stage of England Schoolboys trials at Lilleshall.

If you’re not familiar with Lilleshall, for many years it was the national training centre for elite English sport.

(Imagine Hogwarts surrounded with football pitches...)

It’s also where the 1966 England team spent 2 weeks training in preparation for the world cup, so in many ways the equivalent of today’s more modern St. Georges Park.

Despite managing 90 minutes in the trial match 6 weeks earlier, the stresses of that game had pretty much reset my medial ligament injury back to square one.

And although I believed it was now at about 80%, I was increasingly concerned about my level of match fitness going into these trials.

Even if my knee did hold out, I’d only managed to play 1 game in the last 12 weeks and the most recent one was 6 weeks ago.

Not ideal preparation for an England trial.

Furthermore, this wasn’t just a trial match like before…

We had a gruelling schedule of fitness testing, training and multiple matches every day.

As the 3 days progressed, I was able to manage my medial ligament injury pretty well.

Although it did affect some of what I felt I was able to do on the pitch, I realised that these were probably mental barriers.

One thing I couldn’t ignore however, was my lack of match fitness.

This trial was a step up in terms of the speed and relentless energy of the players I was marking.

Much like myself, there were other players who had spent most of their career up to this point at a professional club...

Everton, Tottenham, Arsenal and Leicester were just some of the clubs where these guys had learnt their trade.

Although it may not have been apparent to anyone else, I was struggling BIG TIME.

Every time the ball went out I wheezed and gasped for air, each time I received the ball I moved it on to someone else.

Anything to buy a few more precious seconds of recovery time.

Despite that, I felt as though I had still performed well enough to progress to the final trial weekend – but it was glaringly obvious to me that my fitness must improve significantly within the next 4 weeks.

There’s no two ways about it though, my performance level at this trial had definitely dented the reputation I’d built up from my previous trial performances.

I felt as though even though I was technically better, my lack of match fitness was evident in comparison to my competition - which would raise question marks about my ability to compete at this level.

Sure enough, I got the nod to progress to the final stage of England trials.

More players had been cut, now we were down to 24 – the final squad only had room for 20.

During the following 4-week gap, what do you think I did?

I wanted to absolutely smash myself, cram as much training in as I could. (Bear in mind that I knew little about fitness training for football at this point.)

To the best of my knowledge, it was working.

With a week to go, I reached level 17 in the beep test – the best score I had ever achieved.

I remembered however, that when my centre back partner “Smalling” had submitted his

fitness test scores before the previous trial, his score was…

“I completed it”.

Completely straight faced and almost embarrassed to admit it to the other players.

And the funny thing was, although that score was way above average in comparison to everyone else…not one person doubted his score for a second.

There wasn’t one player who thought “yeah right…!”

It was 100% believable.

In the words of Sir Alex Ferguson, it was as if he had "an extra set of lungs" watching him play at times.

Anyway…

I decided that my fitness crash course would conclude with an epic 15-mile run... 

Then I would give myself 3 days to fully rest up before the final set of trials.

I still vividly remember my Dad dropping me at the ‘start line’ in his car and telling me where he would pick me up from.

It was absolutely freezing that day, and I soon found myself running in the snow.

The icy air took my breathe away and made my lungs ache, but I ploughed on and began to gather some momentum as I warmed up.

I reached the finish line utterly exhausted, tears streaming down my cheeks from the biting cold which made my eyes water.

Had that run really been a good idea?

I started to feel groggy…

I wasn’t feeling too sharp, I thought I’d get an early night – just what I needed.

The next morning, I awoke with a terrifying realisation.

This was an all but too familiar feeling. FLU.

I was bedridden for the next 3 days…

The decision to go on that run still haunts me to this day.

Not only was it a wholly inappropriate way to train for football, I arrived at the final stage of trials scrawny and feeling as sick as a dog.

But I guess that’s the power of hindsight...

At the time, I didn’t know any better.

In defiance of that, I managed to revamp my situation and went onto perform very well.

I was able to play with more freedom than before and Chris and I further cemented our centre back partnership.

A fixture had been organised for the final day against the Royal Navy first XI.

(That's me age 18 - top right, number 6)

The coaches saw this as the perfect final test, putting us up against a team of extremely physical, ruthlessly conditioned grown men.

I’ll never forget the buzz of that whole day…

Walking into the changing room with our England kits fully laid out, wired to compete after a spectacular team talk.

“Today you are representing England, no matter what happens to you, nobody can ever take that away from you. This is a day that you’ll tell your grandchildren about, now go out there and do your country proud.”

I was PUMPED…

And went on to have what was (in my opinion) my best performance of the whole process so far.

In my head I’d certainly redeemed the reputation I felt was dented after the previous trial.

There were 5 centre backs to choose from, and I felt that by some distance myself and Chris were the top performers, whether we played alongside each other or not.

I left the trials feeling quietly confident and relieved that I had made up for my lacklustre performance at the previous trial.

They would let us know by Thursday who had made the final squad of 20 players to go on and face Ireland, Wales, Australia and Scotland at Wembley in the Centenary Shield.

I spent the rest of the week nervous, excited, anxious, hopeful, unsure – every emotion you can possibly think of, I felt it.

Thursday arrived.

The day my entire football career and reputation in school would hinge upon.

Every minute that passed felt like an hour, I just wanted to know if I had made it into the final squad one way or the other.

Until it happened…

I had just arrived home from school, a new post on my Facebook wall from one of the other players.

I opened it, my fingers were tingling.

The post read: “Congratulations mate! Buzzing to be in the squad with you!”

WHAT!?

I punched the air exhilarated and ran to the phone to call my Dad.

Mid phone call, I refreshed the page – the post was gone...

“That’s odd?”.

I hit refresh again

and again

and again.

Nothing.

The post had been deleted...

My heart suddenly sunk, thinking “that can’t be a good sign…”

Maybe he just wasn’t sure if he was supposed to share it around?

Maybe he had accidentally hit ‘delete’?

As time went on, I slowly came to the realisation that something was up, my letter still hadn’t arrived and the player who had posted on my wall wasn’t responding to me.

Sure enough, about an hour later it was confirmed that I had in fact missed out on the final squad of 20 to play at Wembley. 

I was on standby instead – which was really just a nicer way of breaking the bad news to me I thought.

The player had mistakenly posted on my wall, thinking I was on the squad list.

I’ve never felt emotions like it.

Pure elation to complete devastation.

I went to my room and locked myself away for the rest of the evening.

There was nothing anyone could say to make me feel better, my parents knew that.

They’d need to just leave me be to ride this one out.

That was one of the most character-building days of my life.

As it turned out, one of the midfielders who could also ‘fill in’ at centre back had taken my spot, as the manager planned on playing only 3 at the back in the international matches.

Important lesson:

I want to link you back to when I was at Wycombe Wanderers and the coach was adamant that I cannot be a ‘ball playing’ centre back.

As I said I began to find my old form again when I left, but there’s no doubt that irreversible damage was done during that period.

I was forever self-conscious about running with the ball into midfield, and now more often than not opted for the less risky passing option... 

I was still the same defender, but in terms of being on the ball I was reluctant to bring the ball forwards even though I still had the ability to.

That dilution of what was once of my key strengths proved to be the difference for me, this is the real feedback from the England Schoolboys manager my school received after not making the squad:

"James made an impression immediately with his dominant performances as a very effective central defender. His attitude to coaching sessions was exemplary, and he established himself at an early stage as a contender for International Selection.

This promise was borne out through the various trials, he acquitted himself extremely well again, and had a solid game against The Royal Navy, helping his squad to a 3 - 1 win.

To say he missed selection for the final 20 by a whisker would be accurate, and he certainly would have been selected in a number of previous squads in the years I have been involved.

He was unfortunate that in this particular season he was up against three other excellent central defenders who, in our opinion, just had an edge on him in terms of comfort on the ball and the ability to bring the ball out from the back third. (One of these players has subsequently signed a 3-year contract for Fulham, so James certainly had competition)."

I couldn't believe it.

The very thing that I was told to stop doing at Wycombe, was now the very reason why I had missed out.

And I couldn't argue with it, they were right.

I was more cautious about bringing the ball out of defence, whereas before I relished the challenge.

Before I'd look to do it almost every time I got the ball, it was my key strength.

As it turned out, Chris went on to play for Man Utd & England as I said before, Aaron also went on to play in the Premier League for Southampton and Johnny (the midfielder/defender) went on to play for Leeds United before suffering a career ending injury.

They were all scouted whilst playing in the matches that followed the final trial.

In part 2, I'll reveal: what happened the following season, how I suffered my 'career ending' injury  and why I became obsessed with strength and conditioning.

Go to Part 2 >>