Some people will read that and shrug their shoulders saying, “So what?” Others will read that and mumble, “Lucky bastard” under their breath. I guess with some people it’s just the luck of the draw.
While scanning some late-night television recently, I came upon one of those “World’s Worst Sports Injuries” shows…or something similar to that, anyway. I usually don’t have the stomach for that type of television so I didn’t plan on watching too long. Out of the blue, before I could change the channel, I saw a poor football player’s leg bend in a way that it’s not intended to bend.
It took me back to the one time I ever really hurt myself…(insert creepy flashback music here)
It was the early eighties and I was in the sixth grade. To really date myself, I was out on a Friday night at the local roller-skating rink.
I wasn’t much of a skater. In fact, I was slipping and sliding all over the place. It probably didn’t help that I never owned a pair of roller skates before in my life and, much like a bowling alley, I had to rent the shoes once there.
Picture it if you can…
…people roller skating around in a giant circular motion…Total eclipse of the heart and Billie Jean playing over the loudspeakers…couples holding hands…and scattered throughout this throng of people were a few others like me, flailing around wildly like a freshly-caught fish thrown onto the bottom of a boat.
It was sad, really.
Every time I fell down, I braced my impact with my hands. I mean, I was never the biggest fan of pain and I certainly didn’t want to get bruised butt-cheeks that night. But then it happened…
I fell down…CRACK!!
I immediately felt the pain. The pain was unlike the other times I fell down. And what was worse is that one of my favorite songs was playing and I couldn’t skate around to it: Electric Avenue by Eddy Grant.
I slowly made my way over to the skate rental area and called my parents. My mom picked me up, took me to outpatients, and found that I hadn’t broken my wrist…just cracked it severely. A light cast and an aspirin later and I was on my way back home.
The moral of this story? Meh…I dunno. But I do know that I’m very fortunate to have not suffered any serious injuries. I also know that I’m fortunate to not have had to go through a situation where my children were seriously injured. I don’t take that for granted.
I also make sure I stop whatever I’m doing and enjoy the sweet, soulful sounds of one Mr. Eddy Grant whenever “Electric Avenue” comes on. You can’t take dreadlocks and a Jamaican beat for granted, either.