I’ve been sitting in my living room watching an empty TV screen for hours in the last few weeks. I didn’t eat or sleep well.
I stayed up until five in the morning listening to the birds sing about it.
Then, despite everything, I made the resolution with the manager [Lee Bowyer] who spoke brausly. He said, ‘Lyle, I can see the guilt you were to have.’ But it’s a time no one has had to deal with before: closure has been complicated for everyone.
I’m devastated by the way it ends, but I don’t expect other people to care. I know that once the damage is done, it’s irreparable and I don’t expect sympathy.
That’s my right reasoning. I know other people won’t like it, but it’s a very sensible resolution.
I need to play to keep this team in the league; we worked very hard to get here. But anything in the back of my head says that if you have a serious injury, the possibility that you’ve worked and dreamed since I was six is over. I’m not 26 or 27, I’m 30 years old. The way I play puts me in positions where I can seriously injure myself at any time.
I know it probably wouldn’t be me in Charlton like I did at Wimbledon: it was someone who gave it his all and had to be dragged off the court after giving each and every one of the things in each and every match.
I would probably be considered a cash thief or a disappointment, but I’d like to think that other people will look beyond that and the clever moments I shared with the coach and my teammates and Charlton Athletic.
Let’s hope Charlton’s enthusiasts can see it more fondly than with hate or disgust.