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| Can't wait to get back in training again |
When John was summoned to the Club Owner's Office he assumed it was about his new contract. Instead he was introduced to a gentleman with a foreign sounding accent, an investor.
It wasn't unusual for well-known players to be asked to be present at business meetings.
Investors were often fans and liked to see their favourites in the flesh.
John disliked this networking stuff but did his best to be pleasant for the sake of the club.
The gentleman talked to him, expressing his admiration for his playing skills
He obviously knew a lot about him including some personal details that surprised him.
It was all very chummy, he even got John a refill of orange squash.
He woke up on a bed in room with bare walls and minimal furniture.
He was totally naked apart from a white loincloth wound round his waist.
The door was locked but eventually they came in answer to his pounding.
Two men dressed like medics entered and 'persuaded' him to obey them.
When he was pacified they scrubbed him from head to toe
His skin was smeared with scented oil so it gleamed like a polished statue.
Then they dressed him up in a totally impractical, cropped rugby top that showed off his abs
and in shorts that were so tight he wouldn't be able run in them without injury.
They just laughed at the idea of him playing rugby again.
Then tied him up with rope so tight under his pecs that it was hard to breathe.
He was seated on a bench, put on display like an art exhibit,
In readiness for the handover ceremony, they said.
Beyond the doors that faced him, there was chatter and clinking of glasses.
A drinks reception was taking place there, in his honour supposedly.
The master's friends were all assembled to view and greet him.
Immobilised and alone he waited to learn his fate.
Imagery by Cybertied