The car pulled up at the training ground. I gripped the joystick between my teeth and steered my way down the ramp, across the car park and through the sliding doors. It’s three years since the accident. One day an England international, the next lying paralysed in a hospital bed. Countless hours of physiotherapy were finally being rewarded. I can now feel tingling in my fingers. The doctors say I may yet get use of my arms again.
Wheeling my way through the throng I see pity and fear on their faces. If I meet their gaze they swiftly look away in shame. Why? I’m a normal person just like them aren’t I? If I had one super power I’d make people see me for who I really am – a champion in waiting. I may never walk again but that won’t ruin my dream of representing my country once more.