FOOTBALL LEGENDS: SURVIVAL IN SILENCE
227 Miles. No Applause. No Return.
They said it was just a walk.
They lied.
⸻
The dust never settles.
Not out there—on that godforsaken path stretching from the fractured cliffs of Land’s End to the forgotten bones of Somerdale Pavilion. A trail where even the wind forgets your name. Three men dared to cross it. Mark, Tom, and Andy. You might’ve seen them once—faces you forget in a crowd. But you won’t forget them now.
Not after what they are about to face.
Not after what followed.
⸻
There are no crowds here. No cheering fans. No game-day whistles or floodlights to chase away the dark. Just eight days, stretched and warped by pain, echoing with the sounds of boots scraping gravel—and something else. Something just out of sight. Hunger. Hallucination. The gnawing dread that maybe this path wasn’t meant to be walked at all.
Each step? A battle.
Each mile? A reckoning.
They carry no weapons. Only purpose.
Not glory. Not victory.
Just the desperate, aching cause of Children's Hospice South West… and the fragile dreams of the Fry Club Juniors—echoes of laughter and life that cling to their backs like shadows.
But shadows don’t always stay behind you.
Sometimes, they follow.
⸻
The true enemy?
It isn’t the terrain.
It’s what the silence brings.
Blisters fester. Knees buckle. And as the towns grow sparse, so do the voices. The men stop speaking, not from exhaustion—but because the stillness demands it. Something watches. Or maybe it’s just in their heads. Doubt takes form out here—whispering through fog, wearing the faces of regret, of failure, of every child they walk for, asking:
“Will you make it?”
And sometimes:
“Is it worth it?”
⸻
They call it “Football Legends.”
But by the third night, there won’t be legends. Only survivors.
What begins as a tribute becomes a trial. No maps can warn them of the inner terrain. Of the hallucinations. Of the fractures in their own will. Of how, in the dead spaces between towns, you meet the truest version of yourself—and pray you don’t come to hate what you see.
Because this road? It strips you.
Not just of comfort.
But of pretense.
⸻
🔻 WHAT KEEPS THEM GOING?
Not a crowd. Not a goal.
But the moment they turn to each other in the dark and say nothing. Because there are no words left—and that silence is the only thing keeping the demons at bay, and the thought of the children they can save.
https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/andrew-glover-2
⸻
So no, this isn’t a walk.
It’s not even a mission.
It’s a survival story carved into tired muscles and worn-out boots. A horror tale wrapped in grit and compassion. A relentless crawl toward light, dragging hope behind them like a dying torch.
They walk so others don’t have to.
They suffer so others might smile.
And if they reach the end?
It won’t be with cheers.
Just breathless silence—and the quiet knowledge that some monsters were outrun… but not all.
⸻
💀 Footy Legends: Survival in Silence
Walk the path—if you dare.
https://www.le2sp.com/
#LE2SP #FootyLegends #TrailOfDread #WalkForTheLiving #SurvivalInSilence
Add comment
Comments