Oh, the irony!

Just a quick funny/ ironic story to tell from last Sunday.

Another beautiful summer Sunday morning in the quiet southern college town. Listless locals and summer students dawdled over their Bloodies and brunch, chatting aimlessly, people watching, and keeping an eye on the thermometer... My friend and I savored the Tex-Mex brunch at Mono Loco under their broad, fan-swept awning. Stoli Bloodies, so large fresh and cold, the condensation left Olympic Rings on the table as they disappeared sip by sip. Afterwards, a stroll down C-Ville's pedestrian-only Mall led to the local movies and we decided to watch SiCKO, a documentary about the problems with Health Care in this country. (Don't judge, I started watching MM's movies when he released Roger & Me, and like him or not - he makes some strong, if not very subtle, points!) I liked it, and it made me think but that's not the point of this blog so I'll go on.

My plans for the rest of the day included lounging by the pool reading and doing some relaxing laps in the coolish water. It's summer in VA, even the pools warm up!

Afterwards came the event I look forward to all week - pickup soccer at the local Middle School. Usually 20 or so show up, ages run from 22 - 45 (guessing) and while there is a god bit of talent and accents there, games are not too competitive. (At least it seems to me - I'm so competitive, it's hard to ramp down and I really feel like I'm coasting, I hope the others think so, too.) This week, only 11 show up so it's the 6 old guys, (of which, sadly, I'm one) playing 5 on 5 with a sub against the younger guys. You know the old adage, "Age & Treachery will always triumph over Youth & Exuberance?" Well, it was in full effect and we won 7-4. I got three goals and a swwweeeeet assist. Man, I love scoring goals - the decisive run, controlling or redirecting the ball, the magic moment when you realize the ball is not going to be stopped by all the defenders vainly striving for it. A quick fist pump as the net ripples and I turn to head back to mid-field for the restart. I like a quiet goal celebration - one that says "I'm not making a big deal because it's routine - I've done it before and I will do it again. I will score on you and you should expect it too." But inside I'm bounding and it's hard to keep that broad shit-eating grin off of my face!

So here is the ironic part - after seeing a movie in the morning about health care and how those who pay in don't always get what they hoped for, I get in a huge collision with (naturally) the biggest defender on the other team while we were both going for a loose ball. No foul, but I went flying. Literally. I must have spun around in the air horizontally twice before landing on my knees. The Pain!! My ankle is killing and the whole lower leg is numb - that popping I heard was either the bone, or tendons in my ankle snapping out of and into place.
"What a great time to have quit my job and be without health insurance!" I think, gritting my teeth. "I wonder if that bearded bastard Castro will help ME out?" Every time I have played in recent weeks, I've given a quick thought to my (lack of) Insurance status, but playing is so fun, I just take the risk. It could have been worse, for sure.
With my ankles, I expect it's just a bad sprain and it is. it happens all the time - I'll walk it off and play on the tenderness, but tomorrow it will stiffen and swell obscenely and colorfully, and the next week or two will suck.

Here's is where i am today - Running and hiking and yoga plans are now out the window. After two days of ice and elevation, I'm walking on it and the swelling is going down, but thank God I didn't need a doctor! Went to the pool today, and laps are fine, whew! I'll be fine.
I'm glad that while my ankles sprain easily, they also heal quickly - it would be an inauspicious beginning to leave on this great world-crossing adventure on crutches.

So it goes...
Clement