A DCFC Story

In 1987 I was working as a houseman in Derby City Hospital. Having had 5 years of carefree student existence in Bristol I was suddenly thrown into the real world. My parents had moved overseas, I had no friends, I was at the very bottom of the food chain in the hierarchical and vaguely bullying culture that existed in medicine at the time, and I was working, on average, well over a hundred hours a week. I got to bed every other night and rarely had chance to shower or have a proper meal. I was continually exhausted, stank like a wet badger and was indescribably miserable.

Maybe this is an exaggeration but I believe Derby County might have saved my life that year. Suicide rates were high amongst junior doctors – the perfect storm of isolation, desperate tiredness and the growing realisation that by working way beyond our competence we were very likely to be contributing to or even directly causing deaths of patients. I find it hard even now to look back to those days when I went to some very dark places, and I’m not talking here about Cold Blow Lane on a Tuesday night. I could not see a way out. To give up was unthinkable after all the years of training and expectations of family, but the thought of continuing was like peering into the abyss.

Every other weekend I was free from work, and I would go wherever Derby were playing. The matches were shining beacons that I could look forward to in my pit of despair. In the second half of the season we seemed to win everywhere we went. 4-1 at Oldham, 1-0 at Millwall, 2-1 at Sunderland, 1-0 at Brighton. I remember very vividly the long drive to Ipswich, the faultless display and 2-0 win which led to the Ipswich fans politely applauding our team off the pitch at the end, bless them. And it all seemed to come to a head at Bramall Lane and THAT goal by Phil Gee that pretty much guaranteed promotion.

I will never forget that win at Sheffield United. If the matches were beacons this was a blinding sun of an afternoon. I knew it wasn’t all that healthy to invest so much into football, but I had nothing else in my life so I threw all I had into it. I remember the feeling of unbridled joy and catharsis as if it was yesterday. I was mentally ill, I think. I was drowning and I clung to Derby County for dear life. That season got me into a little bit of clear water in my life and over the next year or two I learned to swim.

Now that there is plenty of distance I feel I can safely look back at that time. I was an intelligent young man but I was vulnerable and it could have ended differently, as it did for some other people of my age and in my line of work who were alone, found it all too much and couldn’t see a way through. Derby County got me through. Maybe there are other things in life that can do this. I certainly hope so. But DCFC did this for me.