After training, Tang Long felt a slight soreness in his lower back and remembered the physiotherapy services that the female team doctor, Gracie, had mentioned, so he decided to go visit her.
As he approached the slightly ajar door of Gracie’s office, a strange, intermittent sound reached his ears, as if a whip was swinging in the air, yet it didn’t quite resemble the usual sounds of objects colliding.
He couldn’t help but stop in his tracks.
The sound was short and powerful, a repeated "pa-pa-pa," making Tang Long’s heart clench tightly, and his mind couldn’t help but conjure up all sorts of speculation.
He found it hard to imagine the scene of the delicate Gracie smiling while waving a whip.
Pushing open the door, the scene before him suddenly made him understand.
Turns out it wasn’t the sound of whipping at all, but rather Gracie demonstrating a special type of physical therapy.
He saw her holding a specially made elastic therapy rod, striking it on a dummy with a specific rhythm.
The dummy lay on the massage chair, its legs being struck with a "pa-pa" sound, echoing in the empty room, which indeed could easily lead to misunderstanding.
"Ah, Tang, you’re here!"
Gracie, dressed in a white coat, noticed the movement by the door, turned around with her usual sweet smile, "This is a new muscle relaxation therapy we are trying, particularly effective for relieving deep muscle tension and soreness."
Tang Long explained his situation to Gracie.
Gracie smiled and nodded, moved the dummy aside, then patted the massage chair.
"Come on up, let me take a look."
Under Gracie’s guidance, Tang Long took off his shirt and lay face down on the massage chair.
"How is it? Are you getting used to the confrontations in the Premier League? It’s much tougher than Serie A, right? I see you have bruises here."
Gracie’s soft palm brushed over Tang Long’s back, "Here at the deltoid muscle, the bruise hasn’t faded yet, was it from a legal collision?"
Tang Long said, "That’s right, in the first round of the league when we played away at Tottenham, my former Inter teammate, Gualin, bumped into me like a mad dog. It’s been over a week, is it still bruised? I hadn’t noticed."
"It’s fine, it will fade in a few days, no big deal," Gracie said.
Gracie accurately identified the cause of the bruises on his back, instilling deep trust in her professionalism in Tang Long.
Following the muscle lines on Tang Long’s back, Gracie’s small hand started to slide down.
The soft tactile sensation brushed over his body, making Tang Long feel ticklish and want to laugh, but glancing at Gracie’s serious expression, he forcibly suppressed the urge.
Gracie’s small hand slid to Tang Long’s latissimus dorsi.
She suddenly paused, then forcefully pressed down with her knuckle, which caught Tang Long off guard as Gracie’s hand strength abruptly increased, making him exclaim "Ah!"
"Does it hurt?" Gracie asked in surprise, frowning.
"It didn’t hurt originally, but you pressed hard, that’s why it hurt," Tang Long replied truthfully.
Gracie’s frown relaxed, she nodded gently, and softly said, "This is the latissimus dorsi, there’s minor swelling, probably because someone kneed you in the back during a match."
Tang Long thought she hit the mark again, this young lady really has two things going for her.
"Yes, during the match against West Brom, going for a high ball, their midfielder and I jumped for a header, and that guy kneed me right here mid-air, nearly wrecking me. Really dubious move, the referee only called a foul, didn’t even give a card."
Gracie informed him that to maintain the fluidity and appeal of the game, Premier League actions are quite intense, and referees are more lenient compared to Serie A, so he should take care to protect himself.
"Take off your pants, let me check your groin for injuries." Saying that, she turned to get gloves.
Tang Long remembered the embarrassment during his previous job entrance physical exam, and now seeing Gracie go for the gloves, he quickly waved his hand and said, "My groin is fine, Dr. Grace, it’s mainly my back that’s hurting, so take a look at my back!"
Thus, Gracie began to examine Tang Long’s lower back.
"Does it hurt here?" "No pain."
"How about here?" "No pain either."
"And here?" "No sensation."
Gracie pinched a small section of Tang Long’s lower back as she asked if it hurt, but after checking both the back and front, she still couldn’t determine the pain’s origin.
Gracie thought for a moment, then mused, "This is quite troublesome, unable to pinpoint the source of the pain, only that your back hurts, but unclear where exactly – is that right?"
"Yes, yes, it’s that kind of unidentifiable pain everywhere that drives me crazy," replied Tang Long, lying on the bed, nodding.
Gracie blinked her big blue eyes, looking at Tang Long, with a half-smile, asked, "How frequently are your intimate activities?"
Tang Long froze, thinking this young doctor must suspect his back pain was due to overly indulging himself and being physically exhausted, so he didn’t reply immediately.
Seeing Tang Long not responding, Gracie earnestly said, "Male footballers have very active hormone secretions, there’s medical evidence for this, but it should be practiced within limits, especially when you’re under 20 years old, doing it too frequently can affect your match performance, and clinically manifests as back pain, weak legs, shortness of breath."
But upon hearing Tang Long explain he doesn’t have a girlfriend, Gracie embarrassedly apologized.
"Then there’s only one possibility left, a systemic muscle inflammation."
Saying this, she picked up the blue elastic therapy rod from the table.