It would appear that, to borrow a line from Sir Alex Ferguson, Manchester United are not the only ones who will be bouncing into Moscow this week. Explanation below.

On Monday last week, John Terry, the Chelsea captain, was enjoying a day in the garden with his twins, Georgie John and Summer Rose, who have just turned 2. The sun was out and he wanted to play, but something was stopping him. It was another one of those pesky football injuries that he seems to collect with increasing success, this one a dislocated elbow sustained against Bolton Wanderers 24 hours earlier.

Terry did not know what to do, so he telephoned his friends, the masseur and the physiotherapist, to come round to his house and help. And they did. And soon he was feeling as good as new and ready for larks again. And what were you playing, John, we asked?

“I shouldn't really be telling you this,” he said, with that naughty schoolboy grin he reserves for those occasions when he ends up riding a quad bike on two wheels up the pavement or doing something else that would make Chelsea's manager break into a nervous sweat. “I was on the trampoline.” With a dislocated elbow. Nine days before the biggest match of his club career. And poor old Paul Gascoigne is the player sectioned under the Mental Health Act. Go figure.

Just as comic-book heroes combine a day job with an alternate existence fighting evil, so Terry leads a double life as Chelsea captain and Mr Indestructible. He has been patched up, pieced together, pinned in place and rebuilt so many times that if he marched out at Stamford Bridge one day like the remodelled police officer Murphy in Robocop, it would hardly be a surprise.

Terry's almost wanton disregard for his safety can be heard in his recollection of the incident that almost ruled him out of tomorrow's Champions League final, a collision with Petr Cech, the Chelsea goalkeeper, that left him pounding the flat of his good hand against the pitch in agonised frustration - the first sign that there was something seriously wrong with a defender who has, on the odd occasion, played on the proverbial one leg.

“I've had a lot of injuries in my career, but this has got to be one of the most painful,” Terry said. “I thought I'd broken my arm it was that bad and I immediately thought I was out of the final. But it was one of those things. No problem, in the end. I always say to Petr, every season, come out, and if you have to go through me and the striker to get the ball, just do it. And that is what he did. So how can I complain? He did what I have been telling him to do for three years. He did the right thing. As long as the ball got cleared, which it did, and we didn't concede, which we didn't, everything else was just bad luck. And I'm going to be OK, so it worked out.”

One day, maybe, Terry will push it too far and mess with his torture levels in such a way that he crosses the line between bravery and stupidity. Yet managers continue to take a chance on him, as Avram Grant will do in some small way in Moscow, because they know that once the adrenalin pumps, Terry becomes almost impervious to the pain of the contest. When Chelsea retained the title against Manchester United in 2006, he played virtually the whole game with ten stitches in an ankle wound. In October, Terry was rushed back with a broken cheekbone two days after surgery to play in a crucial Champions League group game in Valencia. In the final ten minutes, when Chelsea's goal was under siege, there was no defender who could have taken the pressure such as that masked man.

“If there is a game that has to be played, the risk does not cross my mind,” Terry, 27, said. “Maybe in a few years it will, but not for now. If someone said, 'You can play in a Champions League final but you might pay for it in later years', there is no decision to make. This is my chance, here and now. It is not as if I can do it all again.

“So, yes, some days it feels as if I have been rebuilt, but I am sure any player would shrug off any injury for a game like this. I play 70 per cent fit, 80 per cent fit, I think a lot of players do, but I always feel I can do the job. Sometimes we don't have enough defenders fit so I have to play, and mentally I always want to get out with the lads and that is why I push myself.

“That game against United in 2006, it was sheer determination that kept me going. Even lifting the trophy didn't hurt, but as soon as I got into the dressing-room, settled down and the adrenalin went, I was in agony. I couldn't do anything. You won't find a picture of me with the trophy after the game, which is a bit of a disappointment. I just had to lie down.

“It is amazing what you can get through, really, the sort of stuff that you just get on with. You do it and then you think, 'Oh, that's sore', but at the time it is all part of being a footballer, of not letting things get the better of you. I think that has got me where I am today - the hatred of losing, of not being involved. That is why I always do that little bit extra.”

This involves taking on more as club captain, too. In February, when a dismal performance in the Carling Cup final against Tottenham Hotspur threatened Chelsea's season like a virus, Terry took the lead in weeding out the infection, using that delightful old sporting tactic-cum-cliché, clear-the-air talks. It involved getting players and staff into a room, shutting the door and letting them vent.

“My general message was that this should not now turn into a wasted season,” he said. “We sat down and flushed everything out, spoke our minds, told some home truths. We might have upset a few people, we might have upset each other, but we worked out how to improve and we have only gone forward from there.

“When you are together day in, day out, it can get a bit niggly. Everyone outside thought the wheels would come off, but we've kept our spirits high and been there for each other. If a player is left out of the team, or is injured or disappointed in some way, we get them out, go for dinner, get their wives and families out, too. We have really pulled together. People from outside the club may question us, but from within you see the real strength of the squad.”

It is a trait that can be found in Terry. Mr Indestructible, Mr Chelsea, Mr Trampoline Man. Bouncing along, bouncing back, as he always does.