Stick on the ice.

I got a text from a friend about heading down to the park to throw a baseball around, maybe hit a few. I thought it would be a good idea.

When we got there there were a bunch of kids having themselves a pretty good game. They weren't going anywhere. Then my buddy remembered that there was also a bunch of guys who played some ball hockey in the middle of the skating oval (roller blading) in another section of the park. We headed over for a look.

When we got there there were several guys we knew, 2 nets, full goalie equipment and an assortment of spare sticks. This is no small feat to find on an island in the tropics! How could I not pick up a stick and take a few shots on net?

15 minutes later, I'm covered in sweat and sweep checking a guy as he tries to pinch in from the wing. All good fun. It's been 10 years since I held a hockey stick in my hand and, although I was never much of a hockey player, I'm having a blast.

Game on!

I'm sure you can see this one coming. It's like a train wreck; You know it's going to happen but there's nothing you can do to stop it.

I'm on the point, one of my team mates has the ball behind the net to the left, he spots me and passes it to me and I get ready to tee it up looking for the top shelf. The defenseman gets a whisper of wood on the ball and causes it to hop over my stick. He's already facing the right direction and he sprints after the loose ball with nothing between him and our goalie but open concrete. I turn and sprint after him.

I am closing on him. I get my stick out and think I can get my shoulder in front of his and take him off the ball. There's sweating and grunting, the sound of team mates shouting and stick on stick and then I am on the ground and in pain. I have turned my ankle and it doesn't feel good. He continues away with the ball, makes a quick move across the front of the net, our goalie goes down and he flips it up high, into the net. He scores.

Damn.

The game stops for a minute. The big pain subsides and and I get up. I've turned this ankle before and it was no biggie. Just sore for a day or two. So I walk it off and play for another 20 minutes. I go home, have a beer and try to interest my wife in stories of ball hockey glory. I fail miserably.

Later that night I notice that my ankle has gone missing. I know I had one when I woke up that morning but it's nowhere to be seen now. This is not good. I ice, take some Ibuprofen and go to bed.

In the morning I have a stump where my foot used to be. Great. Perfect. Off to the doctor.

I've torn some medial ligaments in my foot. A few days of swelling and then I should find my ankle again. In 6 weeks it should be healed. I guess I won't be racing Sunday.

My training was going poorly enough. Now this:As I walked out of the doctors office after declining the obligatory pain meds (completely unnecessary in this instance) my ankle was wrapped and my were spirits low. Then I thought of what an odd post this would be.

If you don't laugh, you'll cry.