I have played soccer since I was 5 years old. All the way through high school, and with mens leagues during and after college. However, it has been several years since I have played with a team.
Recently, I decided that soccer needed to be a part of my life again. I not only crave the competition, but I am also miserably out of shape. Some will point to my laziness, but I find it makes me feel better to blame my animation desk job. I convinced my wife that soccer would be a fun way to stay healthy. Mrs Tonymation tried warn me about my increasing age and injuries, but I quickly dismissed her with logical arguements such as, "Who cares!".
Enter Sunday, November 4th. I played in a real game for the first time in years. I was nervous about my phsysical status, but confident in my ability to play. I started the game on the bench and relieved a player in about the 10th minute of the game. All was going well... that is until the hole of death claimed my foot. I kicked the ball clear of danger back near our goal and planted my foot to track upfield. Only, my foot didn't plant. It was sucked into the ankle killing vortex of hell. A hole, just large enough to swallow half of my foot, twisted it so that my ankle now served as the base of my leg. Let me just tell you that the ankle is not designed for the role of the foot. Immediately my ankle protested, and my leg sympathized with it. One joint by one, they all revolted and sent me plummeting to the ground in pain.
I got up and limped off of the field a broken man. In the past ankle injuries lasted, at most, a day. I stretched and massaged my ankle on the sideline, and eventually entered the game again. For those of you who don't know, it is scientifically proven that athletes lose all intellingence while playing a competitive sport. I played on my injured ankle thinking it would be fine in the morning... of course, I'm not 18 anymore, but who's keeping track of silly details when a game is on the line.
So I got home and took off my socks to reveal an ankle that I believe belonged on an elephant. I have never had a swollen ankle and was shocked to see a part of my body so out of sorts. With my natural oils and ice pack, I was able to shrink my poor ankle back to a less disgusting size. Now I hobble around work and home in an ankle brace.
... But I can't wait for the next game!
Recently, I decided that soccer needed to be a part of my life again. I not only crave the competition, but I am also miserably out of shape. Some will point to my laziness, but I find it makes me feel better to blame my animation desk job. I convinced my wife that soccer would be a fun way to stay healthy. Mrs Tonymation tried warn me about my increasing age and injuries, but I quickly dismissed her with logical arguements such as, "Who cares!".
Enter Sunday, November 4th. I played in a real game for the first time in years. I was nervous about my phsysical status, but confident in my ability to play. I started the game on the bench and relieved a player in about the 10th minute of the game. All was going well... that is until the hole of death claimed my foot. I kicked the ball clear of danger back near our goal and planted my foot to track upfield. Only, my foot didn't plant. It was sucked into the ankle killing vortex of hell. A hole, just large enough to swallow half of my foot, twisted it so that my ankle now served as the base of my leg. Let me just tell you that the ankle is not designed for the role of the foot. Immediately my ankle protested, and my leg sympathized with it. One joint by one, they all revolted and sent me plummeting to the ground in pain.
I got up and limped off of the field a broken man. In the past ankle injuries lasted, at most, a day. I stretched and massaged my ankle on the sideline, and eventually entered the game again. For those of you who don't know, it is scientifically proven that athletes lose all intellingence while playing a competitive sport. I played on my injured ankle thinking it would be fine in the morning... of course, I'm not 18 anymore, but who's keeping track of silly details when a game is on the line.
So I got home and took off my socks to reveal an ankle that I believe belonged on an elephant. I have never had a swollen ankle and was shocked to see a part of my body so out of sorts. With my natural oils and ice pack, I was able to shrink my poor ankle back to a less disgusting size. Now I hobble around work and home in an ankle brace.
... But I can't wait for the next game!
1 comment:
soccer is the sport of the devil
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