I Idiotic!

Pain is nature’s way of saying, “Don’t do that.” Painkillers are mankind’s way of saying, “Just watch me.”

Many of my friends have been "weekend warriors" and thank God for health insurance. We were not in shape, but thought we were invincible. I think most men think the same way, and that thought process gets us into trouble.

I've been injured so many times, I lost count. I remember deciding to play tackle football with some guys on a whim, which meant no practice. Just go play. Blood and guts give it your all. Release some stress on some poor, unsuspecting fool. I didn't plan on being the fool.

I lasted one play, the opening kick off. I never saw the guy coming. We kicked off, and I was just trying to get to the ball carrier. That's all I remember. I came to sometime later, much more humble, on a side line. I should have gone to the hospital, because I'm sure I had a concussion.

Another time, I thought it would be a great idea to play in a softball league. I played first base, and I will say that our team was awesome. Going into the final game before the playoffs, I was the only person in the league who had not made an error. We couldn't miss. Enter the invincible part.

We were playing defense with an air tight infield, which is what got us to that point. We were undefeated. Indestructible. An opponent hit a ground ball to third. Our third baseman was amazing at fielding and had a cannon for an arm. The problem was, he was not very accurate.

He made a diving stop and came up throwing. With my left foot on the bag, I completely stretched out for the throw. I caught the erratic throw, unaware that the batter was going to collide with my knee. Our left fielder heard my knee pop, it was that loud. It was the third out, so as I sat on the bench, my knee kept swelling. The manager tried to take me out of the game, but I would have none of that.

When our side was out, I got up to play first base, took a step, and fell flat on the ground. There was a nurse present, who took a brief look at the knee and told me there was no way I should even be walking on it. I watched the rest of the game - which we lost, due to many infield errors. The chemistry was now out of whack.

After the game, I drove 45 minutes home in a stick shift. I know! I didn't sleep that night, so my sister drove me to the doctor's office in the morning, where they took x-rays and determined that my leg was broken. I was laid up for three months. Oh, and our team lost in the playoffs in the first game. It wasn't that I was so good, we just had the right guys, playing the right positions.

Another time, I thought it would be a great idea to play softball with people I didn't know. I made horrible choices a good deal of the time. I had just smashed my left big toe at work and couldn't wear a shoe, so my idiotic brain decided it would be a great idea to play barefoot. I scored from second on a single, and as I sat down on the grass, a girl screamed very loud.

She said "Look at your foot!" I had run over a broken Pepsi bottle. Off to the ER, where I got stitches on the previously good foot. I hobbled worse than James Caan's character in "Misery". I was on crutches for two weeks. Idiot.

Weekend warriors will always be around, because we're morons and it's just what we do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find a pickup game of tennis.

See you tomorrow.

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