Dead Man’s Chest

kung-pow-enter-the-fist-punch-through-chestLacrosse practice Wednesday night was an interesting affair. Kyle has a great night offensively, most of the team showed up, and no players were injured.

Coaches? Not so much.

Because I am a glutton for punishment, I suited up with the other – younger – coaches and played in the scrimmages. Things were going along swimmingly until I decided to try and stop a shot. One of our better shooters was winding up, and I didn’t want him to score, so I stepped in front of him. Immediately I realized that was a mistake. The kid was maybe ten feet away and as he shot I tried to pivot, letting my back take the force of the lacrosse ball.

(For the uninitiated, a lacrosse ball is made of rubber and has the weight and consistency of a baseball. Being hit by one is not a pleasant feeling.)

As an old man, I was unable to pivot quickly enough, and the shot struck me in the left side of the chest, right about where the heart is located. Luckily I don’t have one of those. I also was not wearing shoulder pads, so the only thing between the ball and me was a t-shirt.

The force of the shot pushed me back a step but it took a moment for the pain to set in. When it did, I dropped to one knee, shrieked a few “sentence enhancers,” and wept for an hour and a half. The play was still going on, so I had to pick myself up and continue playing defense. Like my sex life, I was inadequate. At the next stoppage, I walked to the sidelines, put a sub in for me, and spent the rest of the game hoping I would not die from the impact.

Two days later my chest is still killing me and it has turned a lovely shade of purple. If you don’t see any new posts for a few days, it is because I perished from my injuries. Leave the flowers and get out.


8 thoughts on “Dead Man’s Chest

  1. It’s always tough when fantasy and reality collide. Glad you weren’t more seriously injured. How long do you think it will take for your wounded pride to heal??


  2. Metoo – My pride is fine. In hindsight I knew it was not my smartest decision to stand in front of the howitzer. I just wish I had worn shoulder pads… or my ballistic vest.


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