Anything I write that has to do with writing will be in From Pico's Pen, my author's blog. Everything that doesn't fit any of the sites I write on will be here. This is my practice. I could have kept it private and farmed out the good stuff but I found my readers like too much of it to do that. It isn't a diary because there are things I keep to myself but you can learn a great deal about me from the randomness you will find here.

Friday 5 February 2016

That Had to Hurt

Not Manu but you get the idea. Courtesy Pixabay

I love basketball and frequently read the latest from the NBA. Manu Ginobili of the San Antonio Spurs is out for a month with a testicular injury requiring surgery. Poor man. What amazes me is that they spelled this out without blinking. I watched a clip where an NHL player caught a slapshot in the groin and he left the game with “a lower body injury”. Sports journalism seems to have changed. They seem to be willing to call it what it is now.

In honour of Manu and because some people really seem to find this kind of sports injury funny (just watch America's Home Videos a couple of times), I will recount a few of my sporting unfortunate moments. If you're a guy and this has never happened to you, you've never lived.

First one I'll tell comes from water skiing at SEP (church summer camp). I'd already succeeded in achieving second class skier status and was trying for first class. One of the things I had to do for that was drop a ski and slalom across both wakes. I managed to dump the ski and while I awkwardly tried to get my skiless foot into the rear toe loop on the other ski, I crossed my first wake. Pelican lake was a little choppy and I couldn't pull myself back across. I hit the water fully extended. I didn't know that it was possible to square yourself on a wave. The angle and position have to be just about perfect. Thankfully the life vest allowed me to float in the fetal position. The boat whipped around to pick me up.

“Why didn't you make the signal that you're alright?” came the admonishment.

“Because, I'm not okay,” I replied through clenched teeth.

“What happened?”

“I got hit right where it counts.”

The old journalism was still in effect back then. The guy in the boat understood and thought it was funny and asked, “In the face?” The young lady just didn't get it. They hauled me out of the water. By that time I was just fine. One of those just-smile-and-it'll-go-away kind of incidents.

The next incident occurred in a college basketball game. Carlos on the other team ran a lot of track. He had beautiful high knee action form. Well I'm pretty fearless about taking charges and in the heat of battle I saw someone coming with the ball and I set to take the charge. Then I recognized him, I saw the knees, my life flashed before my eyes, my mind thought, “this is really gonna hurt” and then impact. Carlos lost the ball and nothing was called. I got up and tried to run with the break before doubling up. My best friend saw the whole thing and almost lost the ball from laughter. I smiled and this one went away too.

Finally playing a church softball tournament and I'm on first. The opposing team hits a potential inning ending double play my way. Just before scooping the ball up it hits a pebble in the infield hops over my glove and hits me square in the crotch. I fold up on the ball and can't make the play.

We ended up losing that game and it really all came down to that stupid embarrassing play. My two younger brothers were on the opposing team and have no real sympathy for me at all.

So Manu were with you. I watched the tape. It didn't look that bad from there, but if you weren't alright minutes later and need surgery we feel for you. Get well soon.

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