bornadog
19-05-2012, 01:28 AM
Emma Quayle - The Age 19 May 2012 (http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/cordy-a-weight-watcher-20120518-1yw5w.html)
http://i202.photobucket.com/albums/aa198/mmsalih/art-svFOOTSCRAY-420x0.jpg
AYCE Cordy weighed 73 kilograms - ''maybe 74'' - when he first arrived at the Western Bulldogs 3½ years ago. He's gained around 25 kilos since. But building his body to AFL size wasn't as simple as loading up on protein shakes and drinking two litres of milk each day.
Cordy's weights program has been hampered by his shoulder injuries, but with the guidance of weights coach Luke Meehan he has focused on taking things slowly. ''Luke's been really good with me, he's always told me it won't happen overnight and that this is how we're going to do it,'' Cordy said. ''There's a lot of blokes doing much heavier weights than me for small reps, and I've done lighter weights and plenty of reps, so that I've had lots of time doing it.
''In my second year, I put on six or eight kilos and got a bit fat because I hadn't really trained. Then in my third year I got up to about 98 and was really frustrated when I started pre-season and it dropped back to 93 or 94 straight away.
''I'm about 100 now and the aim is to still be able to run around, feel fresh and able to move … It'll probably take another two or three years to get to where I want to and that's another five or six kilos, but I'm happy to take my time and try to do it properly.''
Shouldering a heavy burden (http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/shouldering-a-heavy-burden-20120518-1yw64.html)
AYCE Cordy used to dislocate his shoulders doing pull-ups. When he reached out to tackle a teammate at training he knew it was more likely than not one of them would pop out. At 19, he knew how to shove them back into place on his own, a skill that made him a little sick. One day, he had to do both: one while lying on the ground, the other while jogging off. He would turn up to work, hear the team was doing contested drills and think, 'I really don't want to do that'.
Last Sunday, Cordy pushed to the front of opposition defenders. He jumped, he propped and he gobbled a few marks. He didn't care about who was behind him, or how hard they might hit him. He did things that, as a junior, had felt like the most instinctive, natural part of the game to him. He felt like a different person to the one who, two years ago, wondered if he was done.
Cordy was 18, and one shoulder reconstruction down, when he was drafted at the end of 2008. He was quick, agile, athletic and he might have been a top-five pick, if he did not belong to the Western Bulldogs as a father-son pick. He weighed 73 kilograms. He heard people say he would need time, and didn't want to agree. What he did know was that his shoulder was nowhere near as fixed as it was supposed to be.
http://i202.photobucket.com/albums/aa198/mmsalih/art-svCORDY-420x0.jpg
In his first year, Cordy would play one or two VFL games, then need a week off. But the days between were worse. ''It got to the point where, if we were doing any kind of physical training, I didn't want to do it. I'd go in on a Monday, they'd say we've got contested training today and I'd think, 'no, I don't want to, I really don't want to'. I'd think, 'I'm going to tackle someone and I'm going to have to get up and walk away with my arm tucked into my jumper. Again'.
''It would dislocate tackling, it would dislocate if it got knocked, it would dislocate on the chin-up bar, and it was painful. It made me dislike what I was doing and I don't know if this is how it really was, but in my eyes I was perceived as not liking physical contact, as not wanting to take a hit, as not being up to it. Which I wasn't. I couldn't go at it and I couldn't attack it, because it was deadset ripping my body apart. Emotionally, it was tough. It was really difficult because I didn't want people to have those perceptions, but I couldn't do much about it.''
It got worse. Cordy pushed through his second pre-season but can remember rolling around on the ground in a VFL practice match, both shoulders out of place after one big, clean hit, knowing that something had to change. He went to see his shoulder surgeon, hoping everything would be fine, that there was an answer, or an easy way to fix this. Instead, Greg Hoy wanted to know what he was doing with his life outside football. He suggested Cordy keep up with his university studies, just in case.
''I'm going to try one more thing,'' he told the teenager, explaining a new procedure where he would take pieces of Cordy's collarbone and place them in both shoulders, limiting the range of movement in both but making it impossible for them to be smashed, or to rotate out of place. ''But I don't like the look of them. If this doesn't work, then this will be it for you.''
It was news Cordy wasn't ready for, as frustrated as he had been. It meant one operation, then eight pointless weeks before the second one, with any fitness or weight gained lost within days. It meant falling behind the kids he was drafted alongside, kids who he had always felt the equal of. It meant feeling more like a university student than a footballer. ''Hanging out with my uni mates, going out a bit. I honestly felt no connection to the club whatsoever. You'd go in there and everyone would be talking about footy and the game on the weekend, whereas you're not even training. Whereas you're not even close to training. Whereas you can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel.''
That was the worst. In hindsight, Cordy was always going to give the new operation a go and try to get back. But after sitting in Hoy's office, trying hard to hold back tears, he didn't feel at all sure that he could play again. Or that he even wanted to go back for more.
''I had, not really a breakdown as such, but I spoke to my old man and my brother and said, 'I honestly don't think I'm going to come back from this. I think this could be it'. They both thought I was being over the top, and maybe I was, but there were definitely times where I thought, 'I can't keep doing this, as much as I want to'. And to be honest, I didn't want to. It was such a deflating thing. You steel yourself and you always tell yourself in your own head that you'll be OK, that you'll come good. But then you think, 'how will I come good'?''
It took time. Hours on the bike; hours on the leg press; a pre-season. In the VFL last year, Cordy played more than three games in a row for the first time since the start of his draft year, but even they threw a new challenge at him: he'd gained almost 25 kilograms. ''I literally used to have seven two-litre bottles of milk in my fridge, one for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday … I'd use about 500 mls in a protein shake and milkshake, then sit on the couch and drink the rest,'' he said.
Cordy hadn't forgotten how to play, exactly. But it took him 10 or 12 games to remind himself of the things he could do. ''It's not like I went out there and felt like I was a 16-year-old kid again, learning the game. But at the same time, everyone has their bag of tricks to dig into when they're playing - things they know they can do - and when I came back I wasn't sure. I did the very, very basics. I did the textbook definition of what you have to do. But slowly, through the year, I thought, 'OK, I can sidestep someone, I've still got a bit of speed, I'm still agile enough'. It just took time, lots of time. But it came back.''
It's still coming back, which is why Cordy feels satisfied with his start to the season, but not relaxed. After playing in all of the pre-season games, he missed out on the round one side and, while frustrated, left coach Brendan McCartney's office happy that he was still getting to play a game that weekend. Things can't happen at once: it's what Cordy's old rehab coach used to tell him, and what his weights coach still reminds him of. That he's unfolding on a more public stage now is obvious to him: he's started getting recognised at the same supermarket he's been going to for three years. But he's not in any huge hurry.
''I know what's expected of me and how far I've still got to go, but I think I've started to turn the corner in terms of believing I can get to where I need to go,'' he said. ''I look forward to all the competitive stuff we do now - it's why I play footy - and I can remember when I was young and injury-free. I'd run at the footy and jump, it felt instinctive, it was natural and it was how I wanted to play. That went missing, but I think it's starting to come back to me, gradually. I'm not going to light the world on fire any time soon, I don't think, but the fact is I'm out there, I don't feel out of my depth, I'm playing with the team and that's a massive victory for me.''
http://i202.photobucket.com/albums/aa198/mmsalih/art-svFOOTSCRAY-420x0.jpg
AYCE Cordy weighed 73 kilograms - ''maybe 74'' - when he first arrived at the Western Bulldogs 3½ years ago. He's gained around 25 kilos since. But building his body to AFL size wasn't as simple as loading up on protein shakes and drinking two litres of milk each day.
Cordy's weights program has been hampered by his shoulder injuries, but with the guidance of weights coach Luke Meehan he has focused on taking things slowly. ''Luke's been really good with me, he's always told me it won't happen overnight and that this is how we're going to do it,'' Cordy said. ''There's a lot of blokes doing much heavier weights than me for small reps, and I've done lighter weights and plenty of reps, so that I've had lots of time doing it.
''In my second year, I put on six or eight kilos and got a bit fat because I hadn't really trained. Then in my third year I got up to about 98 and was really frustrated when I started pre-season and it dropped back to 93 or 94 straight away.
''I'm about 100 now and the aim is to still be able to run around, feel fresh and able to move … It'll probably take another two or three years to get to where I want to and that's another five or six kilos, but I'm happy to take my time and try to do it properly.''
Shouldering a heavy burden (http://www.theage.com.au/afl/afl-news/shouldering-a-heavy-burden-20120518-1yw64.html)
AYCE Cordy used to dislocate his shoulders doing pull-ups. When he reached out to tackle a teammate at training he knew it was more likely than not one of them would pop out. At 19, he knew how to shove them back into place on his own, a skill that made him a little sick. One day, he had to do both: one while lying on the ground, the other while jogging off. He would turn up to work, hear the team was doing contested drills and think, 'I really don't want to do that'.
Last Sunday, Cordy pushed to the front of opposition defenders. He jumped, he propped and he gobbled a few marks. He didn't care about who was behind him, or how hard they might hit him. He did things that, as a junior, had felt like the most instinctive, natural part of the game to him. He felt like a different person to the one who, two years ago, wondered if he was done.
Cordy was 18, and one shoulder reconstruction down, when he was drafted at the end of 2008. He was quick, agile, athletic and he might have been a top-five pick, if he did not belong to the Western Bulldogs as a father-son pick. He weighed 73 kilograms. He heard people say he would need time, and didn't want to agree. What he did know was that his shoulder was nowhere near as fixed as it was supposed to be.
http://i202.photobucket.com/albums/aa198/mmsalih/art-svCORDY-420x0.jpg
In his first year, Cordy would play one or two VFL games, then need a week off. But the days between were worse. ''It got to the point where, if we were doing any kind of physical training, I didn't want to do it. I'd go in on a Monday, they'd say we've got contested training today and I'd think, 'no, I don't want to, I really don't want to'. I'd think, 'I'm going to tackle someone and I'm going to have to get up and walk away with my arm tucked into my jumper. Again'.
''It would dislocate tackling, it would dislocate if it got knocked, it would dislocate on the chin-up bar, and it was painful. It made me dislike what I was doing and I don't know if this is how it really was, but in my eyes I was perceived as not liking physical contact, as not wanting to take a hit, as not being up to it. Which I wasn't. I couldn't go at it and I couldn't attack it, because it was deadset ripping my body apart. Emotionally, it was tough. It was really difficult because I didn't want people to have those perceptions, but I couldn't do much about it.''
It got worse. Cordy pushed through his second pre-season but can remember rolling around on the ground in a VFL practice match, both shoulders out of place after one big, clean hit, knowing that something had to change. He went to see his shoulder surgeon, hoping everything would be fine, that there was an answer, or an easy way to fix this. Instead, Greg Hoy wanted to know what he was doing with his life outside football. He suggested Cordy keep up with his university studies, just in case.
''I'm going to try one more thing,'' he told the teenager, explaining a new procedure where he would take pieces of Cordy's collarbone and place them in both shoulders, limiting the range of movement in both but making it impossible for them to be smashed, or to rotate out of place. ''But I don't like the look of them. If this doesn't work, then this will be it for you.''
It was news Cordy wasn't ready for, as frustrated as he had been. It meant one operation, then eight pointless weeks before the second one, with any fitness or weight gained lost within days. It meant falling behind the kids he was drafted alongside, kids who he had always felt the equal of. It meant feeling more like a university student than a footballer. ''Hanging out with my uni mates, going out a bit. I honestly felt no connection to the club whatsoever. You'd go in there and everyone would be talking about footy and the game on the weekend, whereas you're not even training. Whereas you're not even close to training. Whereas you can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel.''
That was the worst. In hindsight, Cordy was always going to give the new operation a go and try to get back. But after sitting in Hoy's office, trying hard to hold back tears, he didn't feel at all sure that he could play again. Or that he even wanted to go back for more.
''I had, not really a breakdown as such, but I spoke to my old man and my brother and said, 'I honestly don't think I'm going to come back from this. I think this could be it'. They both thought I was being over the top, and maybe I was, but there were definitely times where I thought, 'I can't keep doing this, as much as I want to'. And to be honest, I didn't want to. It was such a deflating thing. You steel yourself and you always tell yourself in your own head that you'll be OK, that you'll come good. But then you think, 'how will I come good'?''
It took time. Hours on the bike; hours on the leg press; a pre-season. In the VFL last year, Cordy played more than three games in a row for the first time since the start of his draft year, but even they threw a new challenge at him: he'd gained almost 25 kilograms. ''I literally used to have seven two-litre bottles of milk in my fridge, one for Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday … I'd use about 500 mls in a protein shake and milkshake, then sit on the couch and drink the rest,'' he said.
Cordy hadn't forgotten how to play, exactly. But it took him 10 or 12 games to remind himself of the things he could do. ''It's not like I went out there and felt like I was a 16-year-old kid again, learning the game. But at the same time, everyone has their bag of tricks to dig into when they're playing - things they know they can do - and when I came back I wasn't sure. I did the very, very basics. I did the textbook definition of what you have to do. But slowly, through the year, I thought, 'OK, I can sidestep someone, I've still got a bit of speed, I'm still agile enough'. It just took time, lots of time. But it came back.''
It's still coming back, which is why Cordy feels satisfied with his start to the season, but not relaxed. After playing in all of the pre-season games, he missed out on the round one side and, while frustrated, left coach Brendan McCartney's office happy that he was still getting to play a game that weekend. Things can't happen at once: it's what Cordy's old rehab coach used to tell him, and what his weights coach still reminds him of. That he's unfolding on a more public stage now is obvious to him: he's started getting recognised at the same supermarket he's been going to for three years. But he's not in any huge hurry.
''I know what's expected of me and how far I've still got to go, but I think I've started to turn the corner in terms of believing I can get to where I need to go,'' he said. ''I look forward to all the competitive stuff we do now - it's why I play footy - and I can remember when I was young and injury-free. I'd run at the footy and jump, it felt instinctive, it was natural and it was how I wanted to play. That went missing, but I think it's starting to come back to me, gradually. I'm not going to light the world on fire any time soon, I don't think, but the fact is I'm out there, I don't feel out of my depth, I'm playing with the team and that's a massive victory for me.''