
For professional footballers, the holiday season often presents some of the most demanding challenges of the year.
I’m not seeking an overflow of sympathy.
We are indeed privileged to earn significant salaries, so I don’t expect an outpouring of sympathy.
Nonetheless, it can be a tough time. While your family enjoys holiday festivities — with treats like Pringles, wine, and beer all around — you can only observe from a distance.
Many joyful activities that you usually revel in, yet you find yourself on the sidelines.
I remember, during my playing days, having Christmas dinner while knowing a match awaited me the next day.
I had to control my servings, requesting just a third of what I normally would heap on my plate.
Now, in retirement — experiencing my first Christmas away from the game in nearly two decades — I asked my family to serve me a third more than I could possibly manage.
I was overjoyed and savored every moment.
As a professional athlete, though, you would mentally calculate the number of potatoes you consumed.
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Additionally, the club’s nutritionists would be monitoring your intake.
I often found myself hitting the gym right after finishing my turkey dinner.
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Typically, if an away match was scheduled for Boxing Day, our training would take place in the late afternoon or evening on Christmas Day, followed by a stay at the hotel.
On Christmas morning, I would wake up, spend some time with the kids, have a light breakfast, perhaps manage a 5k run on the treadmill, and then host family for dinner while constantly glancing at the clock.
If we aimed to eat at 1:30 pm, I’d weigh myself at 2:45 pm only to find I was two kilos over. So, a sauna session for 20 minutes was in order.
Afterward, it was a rush to training, weigh in again, and then check into a hotel with 20 other teammates who were all less than thrilled to be there.
You would find yourself mindlessly scrolling through social media, watching everyone else share videos of holiday celebrations, gifts, and family moments. It can be quite overwhelming.
By the time Boxing Day rolled around, the prevalent feeling was ‘Thank goodness that’s over.’
I often intended to have a larger dinner that day to make up for what I had missed.
In our home, we celebrated Christmas on the 27th, giving us a few days to decompress before the New Year’s matches.
As players, we generally adhered to good behavior during the holiday period.
At times, during my tenure at Watford, depending on our manager, we were expected to report for training at 8 am on Christmas Day, which would allow us to finish by noon.
Quick and efficient.
There was once a time when we were allowed the day off until the morning of Boxing Day after training.
However, that changed when a few players showed up with bloodshot eyes after partying late into the night.
The early morning Christmas Day training sessions were the toughest; my kids would wake up filled with excitement to unwrap their gifts, and I had to tell them, “Wait until dad gets back!”
It felt like torture.
Even when I returned home, I’d need to eat, shower, sneak in a quick nap, and then head back to the hotel by 7 pm.
When I first started dating my wife, she thought my training schedule consisted of just a couple of sessions a week leading up to Saturday matches.
She quickly realized that my life was significantly more regimented, even during the holiday chaos.
Ultimately, this is part of the job. While you are paid well for this lifestyle, it can take a considerable mental toll, especially for those who cherish family time.