One Man Asylum

"His mom and dad clutch themselves and cry. Their favorite son will never walk again. Coach says, "That boy gave a hundred percent, What spirit, What a man. But who cares? Games over, Let's go get wasted man to the 7-11, to the liquor store let's party all night and party some more " Dead Kennedys from "Jock-o-rama"

The nurse was howling with laughter as she entered my room. See, during a particularly violent shock therapy session my leg broke free of the restraints and my ankle snapped like a twig under the foot of Nell Carter. The cast that the so-called medical staff but me in was pink in color, I guess it was a joke, but the only one laughing is that evil bitch, so I guess they succeeded. I will get my vengeance, you can bet your bottom dollar, Annie. Those fuckers are gonna pay. But having my ankle in a cast got me thinking about another time I broke the same bone due to over zealous behavior.

I used to work, at one point, long ago, for a large corporation that I will call "Buy Me Toys".
Now, at Buy Me Toys they were big on extra curricular activities. Picnics, parties, and of course softball between the stores. Upon passing my drug test, which I found kind of funny that you drug test a bunch of people that basically applied for a job which would allow them to play with toys all day, but anyway, soon after leaving a urine sample that smelled of asparagus, my favorite thing to eat the night before testing, I was signed up for the softball team. I told the manager that I have a tad of a competitive streak and maybe it wasn't a wise move to put me on the squad. He waved off the comment like I told him that his sister gave me crabs. Get some ointment and move on.

During my first game I was informed that the winning team got a killer prize. Why must they flash the red flag in front of the bull? I was amped. That game I was 4 for 4 with two home runs. No small feat due to the speed with which I round the bases. As the season went on I was a star, the bosses would let me get away with murder as long as I buried the bodies on the softball field. And I did. Taking the team on my back like a mule and getting to the final game.

First at bat. Double, 2 rbi's. Good start. Second at bat. Home run, over the left field fence, leisurely stroll around the base path. Third at bat, legendary. I hit a worm killing grounder at the third baseman and quickly chucked my bat at the ground so hard that it made the centerfielder jump. As I lallygagged down to first, knowing I was out, I decided to use the one tool still in my arsenal. Intimidation. I screamed like Jack the Ripper was cutting my colon out and the first baseman spooked and the ball flew by him. SWEET. I raced towards second, looking over my shoulder and seeing that the first baseman was having trouble with the ball, I went for three. When I passed the shortstop I noticed that the third baseman was catching the ball. First baseman had a helluva an arm. So, I was a sitting duck. One last chance. Kick the ball out of the glove. So I slid the slide of an elephant in a frenzy. My left leg extended, aiming straight for that glove. It worked to near perfection. I say near because as the ball popped out of the glove, my foot caught on the bag, and the rest of me kept on going. The sound of my ankle snapping was so loud that Marlee Matlin came and asked if I was alright.

I was safe. That's what was important. The ankle, well, it was destroyed and still hurts all the time. What an idiot, what a competitor, what a bummer that I was gonna miss work for the next 6 weeks. I was no longer a star in my bosses eye. But, I was safe.

Let's hear the sports related injuries? Details.

Dixie Cup of Love: Dr. John Burkett who put my jigsaw puzzle like ankle back together.