Tuesday, October 9

Feelin' It

I don't know when it happened exactly...

Maybe it was the knee injury and beesting in one game at Westchester when I first joined Pike. Jude told me that I had not, in fact, been stung, but that he stabbed me with a "needle covered in bleach." While I didn't believe him, this was when I first realized he might be evil.

Maybe it was the 1000 little ankle sprains from practicing on SHITTY FIELDS in NY/NJ/PA since 1998. David always had us sweep the field for glass and needles before practice. I got a rock lodged in my knee at a Pike practice in 04... I fortunately discovered it in the shower that evening.

Maybe it was hurting my shoulder back in 05 on a dumbass layout (for a goal!) in some pickup game. That may have been the last time I played all-out in a pickup game.

I dunno, but at some point, I started getting injured more often. I always thought hat I could play through anything (and I still think I can, actually) but I'm having more and more difficulty getting through the time between tournaments. I always thought that I was a pretty sturdy guy, but this season... I dunno.

I think there's a chance that the season is too damn long. Maybe I've had bad luck this year. Maybe Maybe...

Then again, maybe that whole "Tearing one ACL in as a junior in high school and the other as a junior in college" set me up for all of this shit. Maybe breaking my nose 5 or 6 times over my life put me here. Maybe always playing to win put me here. I just don't know, but no matter how much better this leg gets by Nationals... I'm missing out on precious fine-tuning time as a result and I don't like it.
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Workout Total:
See yesterday (this is getting old)

7 comments:

Mackey said...

I know what you mean, at least somewhat (though my history is shorter than yours by a good 20 years or however much older than me you are).

My knee inevitably gives me a hell of a time for at least a few weeks at a time over a (fall/spring/off) season and at worst nags me through a full year. Just when I think I make progress on it, I get stupid and something goes awry to set me back again.

What I wouldn't give to be a professional (or even varsity) athlete and have somebody whose job it is to make sure I'm fit and healthy!

Last spring the week of regionals I dislocated my pinkie finger on my throwing hand. As much as it disrupted my fine-tuning and tapering for regionals (it definitely did), at the same time I tried to take the view of "well, I can play with it against doctor's orders and throw with this hand at 75% instead of playing lefty, so it's not too bad."

I also took the pinkie finger restricting my throwing as more of an impetus to amp things up with my running and cutting on D and O, embracing the potential setback as a challenge. I'm sure you know that mindset as well as anyone.

Fine-tuning is definitely nice, but I wound up playing with a different (higher) intensity because of my injury. And mental fine-tuning can go a long way, too (injury, I find, is just the sort of enforced down time needed to really focus on the mental side).

dusty.rhodes said...

Good upbeat thoughts... but y'know what? that doesn't cut it for me right now. Yeah, I'm embracing the challenge and all (and I'm really pushing this rehab thing-- the PT/Docs are both surprised) but I want more.

It's not the week before regionals, it is 15 days before Nationals. That's a whole other ball game. No offense to your college regionals, but at Club Nationals... the ballers come to ball on a whole other level. That's why I feel so strongly about young players coming, no matter who much PT they'll get.

If I had people helping me out full time (trainer/doctors/et al) I would love my life even more than I do. There's no other way to put it, really.

J said...

Sweet! Is this where I get to bitch about old age & the mileage I've accrued playing this lovely sport of ours?

Today, I pinched a nerve in my neck performing the ridiculously straining task of talking to somebody on my right. Stupid back-stabbing body ... whose side are you on anyway?

At least with cigarettes and whiskey, you get a deep, gravely, soulful voice for your efforts. Maybe I'll be a blues singer after I retire ...

Trash said...

I refuse to believe that Dono is a smoker.

dusty.rhodes said...

I think what he's saying there, for those of you who can't think like a T-Rex, is that if he (Dono), instead of playing ultimate, drank whiskey and smoked cigarettes (like some Syracuse/Pike alums we know and love), he would at least get something out of it in the long run. Like a career as a blues singer.

Instead, we'll all just be broken down and unable to move by age 50.

Yay.

Trash said...

I could see him wielding a pipe... maybe a nice smoking jacket.

J said...

Thanks for translating, Dusty!

(I've been trying to hire him on as a personal editor for years now, you know. I figure, in any given conversation, Dusty would serve as a proxy. I mumble something nearly unintelligible into his ear, he processes it, and then says something seemingly intelligent and appropriate to the situation at hand.)

No, I definitly do not smoke, and have, in fact, spent most of my life with an irrational hatred of all things involving smoking (smokers, cigarette butts, the tobacco lobby, etc) with two notable exceptions:

1. Old school jazz photography ala Francis Wolff

2. Gravelly voiced singers such as Janis Joplin and Tom Waits who have turned Smoker's Cough and the DTs into an artform.