I have noticed that the major injuries in my life have come at the end of each decade. With this decade coming to a close, I realized that I had not had a major injury and I was not looking forward to 2010 and the injury I had to live through to get there.
In 1989, we went on a bike ride to the beach. At the end of the bike ride, we played a full tackle football game that existed without incident...until the last play of the game. There was fumble that I recovered, but my loving brother decided to jump on me. I hear a pop and immediate pain in my shoulder...the same collarbone I dislocated twelve years earlier. The best part of the story is that my "girlfriend" at the time (girlfriend is in parenthesis because it's not really a girlfriend until at least your teenage years) toilet papered our house and the story that went around was that I fell out of the tree taking the toilet paper down. I never denied it, and made the girl feel horrible. We aren't together anymore.
In June 1998, my last summer, I was playing shortstop on Team Manana and I took a dive for a ball and rolled my wrist. Immediately, I felt pain but it wasn't enough to stop playing. I finished the game (even batted) and on the way home, my mother (who luckily still went to the games) thought it a good idea to get an x-ray...just to be safe. We went to County and they did an x-ray but couldn't decipher it. They sent the x-ray to our orthopedic doctor for us to check with him in the morning. I was expecting him to say that it was no problem. However, he made the decision to put me in a full arm cast for six weeks and a short cast for six more weeks...keep in mind, this was my last summer off of my life and I had to spend twelve weeks in a cast. Also, keep in mind this was my right arm that was now not able to touch my face...which includes shaving, brushing my teeth and combing my hair. It was a long six weeks.
In October 2009, I was playing outfield for Team Manana. The second to last inning I was moved to the outfield from shortstop and I ran to catch a fly ball. On the second step, I feel a pop in my right leg and immediately know that I had just pulled my hamstring. I had never done that in my life and I immediately knew that I did not like it. Luckily, this was near the end of the game, however I knew I was up second for the next inning. Rudy gets a base hit and I drag my leg to the plate and stand on my left leg with my bat on my shoulder, praying for four balls and a limp to first. I get it, and a pinch-runner while spending the rest of the inning stretching my leg out. The bottom of the inning I volunteer for first base and the first batter (of course) hits a grounder to me. I struggle to bend down and hobble to the bag for the out. Even the umpire laughs at me for my bad luck. Oh well...
Now, this injury is nowhere near the previous three, but I am hoping this is the injury to take me to 2010...I'll take this over a broken bone any decade. Picture me knocking on wood as you read this.
