For an athlete, there is no greater fear than injury. It lurks in every tackle, every sprint, every jump. It is the shadow that follows them onto the pitch, the unspoken dread that threatens to end everything in an instant.
The same is true in football, where every second is a battle and the risk is ever-present. A wrong step, a mistimed challenge, or sheer misfortune could turn a promising career into a distant memory.
Beeping monitors played a constant rhythm, like a soundtrack to the stillness of the room. The soft rustle of paper and the tapping of rubber-soled shoes echoed down the corridor, blending with the quiet murmur of distant voices.
"Richard."
It was a very familiar voice, warm and comforting, cutting through the haze of unconsciousness.
"Richard."
His heart skipped a beat, a surge of something raw rushing through him as he tried to focus on the sound. His eyelids fluttered, as if the effort to open them felt too much. But then—
"Richard, wake up!"
The third time she called his name, something in him snapped. His eyes shot open, and this shocked not only his mother, who had called after him so many times, but everyone in the room. The nurse was so startled that she almost screamed in fear.
His family and the medical staff surrounding his bed stared in shocked. For a moment, the silence stretched, a breathless pause. Then, all at once, the tension evaporated. Joy filled the room like a rush of air.
The news spread like wildfire through the hospital. Soon, it spread across the country.
Richard Maddox was back, alive!
The man who had been declared dead was alive!
Richard Maddox. Before the disastrous collision, people had many names for him.
The Sun dubbed him The Local Football Prodigy, capturing his meteoric rise and undeniable talent that had the nation buzzing with excitement.
The Mirror wasn't far behind, calling him England's Most Talented Youngster, recognizing his promise and the bright future ahead of him.
The Daily Express added its own flair, going full tabloid with headlines like The Boy Who Assists, likening his passes to spells cast with surgical precision, unlocking even the tightest defenses.
The Guardian took a more measured approach, referring to him as The Next Generation Talent of the Three Lions, believing that he could be the future backbone of England's national team.
In the 1983/1984 season, just after his debut, Richard helped Sheffield Wednesday secure promotion from the Second Division to the First Division.
In the 1984/1985 season, they made an immediate impact, defying expectations. Their spirited performances propelled Sheffield Wednesday into the upper echelons of English football, with the club finishing a remarkable 8th place.
Now, in the 1985/1986 season, when many believed Sheffield Wednesday was finished, they managed to shake off the doubt and make a breakthrough, challenging the upper echelons of English football once again, finishing an impressive 5th place.
It was an extraordinary and consistent performance, with the young debutant's impact nothing short of remarkable. His displays on the pitch had captured the hearts of both fans and pundits, and the excitement he generated throughout the league was felt across the nation.
He had already secured his place—proof that, even at such a young age, he was destined for greatness. However, no one could have anticipated the unexpected accident that occurred in the dying minutes of the match.
It was the 8th fixture of the 1985/1986 season, Sheffield Wednesday F.C. versus Luton Town. With only moments left on the clock, the game was tense—tied at 1-1. The crowd held its breath as the ball bounced awkwardly in front of the goal.
Richard, ever the opportunist, saw his chance. His eyes locked on the ball, and without hesitation, he launched himself into the air, aiming to meet it with a header. He was running at full speed, leaping from a distance to reach the ball, which had come to him in the nick of time.
His timing was perfect, and the ball flew into the back of the net, a stunning goal that leveled the score. The stadium erupted, the fans cheering in sheer joy as their team was moments away from securing a draw. But the celebration quickly turned to shock.
In his desperate attempt to score, Richard had misjudged his leap, colliding with the goalpost in a sickening thud. The impact reverberated through the stadium, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze.
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the match, but all eyes were on Richard.
He lay there motionless.
The stadium was filled with a tense silence as medical staff rushed onto the pitch. Fans, who moments ago had been celebrating the goal, now held their breath, hoping the young man wasn't seriously hurt.
But it was too late.
Richard received treatment for eleven minutes on the Hillsborough Stadium pitch before being stretchered off with an oxygen mask and taken to the hospital. It was there, in the sterile, cold light of the emergency room, that the unthinkable happened.
Richard Maddox, the rising star of English football, was declared dead!
The doctors worked tirelessly, but despite their best efforts, his injuries—too severe, too sudden—had taken him. The news spread like wildfire, and in a cruel twist of fate, the world had lost its brightest hope in the blink of an eye.
People were mourning deeply, but then another national shock came after the declaration of his death.
Richard had been rushed to the hospital, where he was never able to regain consciousness. However, just as his body was being transported to the morgue, he suddenly gasped for breath, startling everyone in the room.
"Arrggh, zombie!"
"Open the door quickly!"
"Hey, where's the freaking extinguisher?!" someone yelled. "Let's hit him in the head properly this time!"
"..."
A brief silence fell over the room as the entire staff stared in disbelief. Thankfully, the doctors at that time were still able to think rationally and quickly rushed to stop the staff members who had already grabbed the fire extinguisher.
The hospital turned upside down. Still, they were still in shock, struggling to understand how—just how?!
At the end of the day, they were forced to make a quick decision. The hospital decided to issue a statement. In the eyes of the media, government officials, and the millions of fans worldwide, The pressure grew unbearable.
[...Richard Maddox had experienced a "clinical death" state, where the body appears lifeless but can sometimes be revived. It was a rare occurrence, but not unheard of...]
With the public demanding answers, the government keeping a close eye on them, and media scrutiny intensifying, they knew they couldn't let this headline-grabbing event drag on. They could only present the most logical explanation they could offer.
Even if it felt a bit forced, they had no choice but to accept it. The pressure was too great for them to do anything else.
"Well, that's what happened."
After briefly being filled in on everything that had happened while he was in a coma, Richard finally regained his composure. Still struggling to grasp the reality, but slowly, it began to settle in—he had come back to life.
"Your body goes into a natural state of panic and self-preservation when you get badly hurt—it knows when something is massively wrong. The pain was unbearable, like a bomb going off in your head, right at the temple," the doctor explained slowly and patiently.
In extreme trauma, the body sometimes "shuts down" as a survival response, limiting unnecessary activity to conserve energy and focus on repairing itself. Fractured skull and potential for brain damage pushed his body into a state of emergency. The pain had been too much.
His system had simply... stopped. It took him a total of eight months to regain consciousness.
Seven metal plates in his skull, with fourteen screws just to hold them in place. Thirty-five staples and a seven-inch scar ran across his head—a constant reminder of the ordeal he had endured. His balance was severely affected; walking in a straight line felt impossible. Even the slightest movement of his head sent waves of dizziness through him.
For the first ten days, he had to be spoon-fed, unable to do even the most basic tasks on his own. It wasn't until ten weeks later that he could finally open his mouth properly again. The road to recovery was long and grueling, but he had no choice but to push through.
The next thing he remembered is being woken up. Everything was a bit of a blur. He remembered feeling a lot of pain. He couldn't handle it. There was so much noise—so much that it felt like screaming straight into his ear. He was incredibly sensitive to noise.
"I'm lucky to be back… huh?" Richard murmured to himself, staring out the window of the hospital room.
The distant sky, with its fading hues of sunset, felt almost surreal to him. The world outside seemed normal, yet he couldn't explain what had happened to him—or what had really happened during the time he had been unconscious.
It felt like an entire chapter of his life had been erased, leaving him only with fragments of memories and flashes of events that seemed so distant, almost as if they belonged to someone else.
His mind kept circling back to the same question: What had happened to him during that time?
Transmigration? Reincarnation? Or possession?
No, this is me.
Everything is still the same.
But was it truly possible for someone to die and come back? Or was this some kind of miracle—a freak occurrence that no one could explain?
He didn't have answers, only more questions.
When he was unconscious, his body lay motionless in the hospital bed, but his spirit seemed to wander far from it. He could see his lifeless body, lying there helpless, a sight that made his heart chill.
He tried calling out, hoping someone would hear him. He called for his father, mother, and big brother, the nurse, other patient, and doctor—but they couldn't hear him.
'Am I truly dead?' A strange thought struck him
He thought back to the stories he'd heard—'aren't people supposed to go to heaven or hell after they die? Or am I just a wandering soul, trapped in this world like a ghost in horror movies?'
The shock and confusion gave way to a deep sense of denial. Then came anger—why couldn't anyone hear him? It wasn't fair. Then came bargaining—'Maybe if I try hard enough, I can wake up, get back in my body.' But after what seemed like an eternity, Richard reached a place of acceptance. He had to, eventually.
With a reluctant sigh, Richard bowed his head to his parents, his big brother, and even to the doctors and nurses who had worked so hard to save him. He had to leave his hospital room behind. But where to?
Where does a football-obsessed soul go when it's no longer tethered to a body?
With no physical restrictions, Richard rubbed his hands excitedly before drifting effortlessly, flowing from one country to another, like a phantom attending football matches.
England, Spain, Italy, Germany... and after Paris Saint-Germain's ambitious attempt to replicate Real Madrid's Galácticos with "The Mbappé Project", he even added France to his list.
What he didn't expect was the rise of Manchester City, toppling Manchester United's long-standing dominance. There was also Leicester City's incredible underdog season, Arsenal's Invincibles, Chelsea's rise under Abramovich, and Liverpool's domination in the Premier League in later years, with Mo Salah as their main attacking threat.
Richard was absolutely thrilled. So many surprises, so much to watch.
Not to mention Barcelona and Real Madrid's continued dominance, with Atlético Madrid squeezing their way into the conversation.
In Germany, Borussia Dortmund and Bayer Leverkusen began challenging Bayern Munich's stranglehold on the Bundesliga. Meanwhile, Serie A saw fierce battles between AC Milan, Inter Milan, and Napoli.
There's also the talent-producing machine of the Netherlands, the passion-fueled leagues of Portugal, the intense Superclásico and Paulista Derby, and the chaotic excitement of the Turkish league, where fans sometimes run amok.
And so, despite being a ghost, Richard couldn't resist watching the beautiful game—his passion—continuing from the afterlife. After all, there's nothing more comforting than watching a match, even if you're no longer sitting in the stands.
A football fan forever, even in death.