Outside
Oberlin
Accident
Prone: The Life of a Walking Injury
My
life has been one of stupid injury after stupid injury. Thank God
to this point none of them have been too serious. Most of them involve
me playing some sort of sport, either in a competitive league or
for fun. The list is too extensive to print so I will humor you
with the more entertaining ones. Please remember, these are just
the stupid things I have done while playing some sort of sport,
so the many non-sports related injuries must be omitted. And believe
me, that is one impressive list also.
I will start my pitiful saga with my first real injury, one that
sent me to the hospital for the first time, but believe me it wasnt
the last. The nurses at Coshocton County Memorial Hospital have
gotten to know me well over the years. So the story begins when
I was about five years old. I was down the street at my friend Wyatt
Millers house, a place I spent many a day at growing up. You
will hear Wyatts name repeatedly throughout the first part
of my story. As he was the source of the majority of my injuries
growing up.
Anyway, getting back to the story. After a long day of playing in
the yard and, well, doing a whole lot of nothing, Wyatt and I decided
to play tag. As I was chasing him up his brick front steps, my legs
got ahead of me and I missed a step. This resulted in a face full
of brick and a whole lot of blood. All I really remember of my first
trip to the emergency room is a whole lot of people trying to keep
me quiet and a needle being inserted directly into my chin. The
end result of my first major mishap was five stitches in my chin
and me not being able to swim for the rest of the summer.
My second major injury also happened at Wyatts house when
I was about eight years old. Since it was a nice day we decided
to play baseball in his side yard. Me, being the spectacular pitcher
that I am, I managed to groove one down the middle, which he proceeded
to hit right back at me. The ball connected with my left eye and
jolted me pretty good. The first thought that ran through my head
was, Oh man, Im gonna be blind and have to wear a pirate
patch
cool. I opened my eye and realized I could still
see and made sure I told him I could see. Wyatt just stood there,
surprised that he hit the ball. His mom finally came out when she
heard me screaming at him to go get someone because I was a bloody
mess. When I went to the hospital this time, I was a little calmer
than the time before. This wasnt my second trip to the hospital
though, only my second trip for a sports-related injury. Yet again
the end result was five stitches, this time just above my left eye.
My last injury at Wyatts house was later that summer while
we were playing basketball. As I drove past him to score, well,
attempt to score for those of you who have seen me play, he bit
me on the inside of my left arm. This wasnt just a little
bite that left indented tooth marks it was a full-fledged,
mouth-full-of skin bite that broke the skin and left me with a bloody
purple bite mark on the inside of my arm for about two weeks. While
this one didnt need hospitalization, it was still pretty gross.
In fourth grade everything started going downhill. My first of many
trips to the emergency room over the next six years occurred with
just five days of school left. While playing football at recess,
I was running across the middle of the playground along the goal
line. Oh, its important to mention that the goal lines for
the football games were the end of the parking lot at one end and
an imaginary line that stretched both ways from a basketball hoop
at the other end. If you cant see where this story is going
already, I was running along the imaginary line towards the basketball
pole. The ball was thrown to me as I was going full speed directly
at the pole. With eyes focused on the ball, I didnt realized
how close I was to the pole. Just after I caught the ball, I turned
my head forward, just in time to hit the metal basketball pole head
on. I did catch the ball and managed to knock the shot on the basketball
hoop off the rim, but alas, it resulted in another trip to the emergency
room. The funny thing was, though, that I hit the pole, fell down,
got up and walked back to the rest of the guys before someone told
me I had blood gushing out of my forehead. This resulted in five
butterfly bandages that the doctors super-glued my forehead and
yet another summer where I was sidelined from the swimming pool.
In fifth grade, again while at recess, with only two days of school
left, again playing football, I got hurt, but this time it wasnt
my fault and there was nothing I could do. As I was chasing another
student who had the ball, something that felt a lot like a rock
hit me in my right eye, knocking me off my feet. As it turns out
it was tennis ball thrown by a sixth grader who was mad at me for
getting a ride home from school with the girl he liked. I mean the
fact that her mom and my mom were friends and that her mom was watching
me that day meant nothing to him obviously. So I get pelted in the
eye with this tennis ball, big deal. At it turns out, it scratched
something in my eye and bruised the back part of my eye, something
that I have to live with for the rest of my life, the bruise that
is. Occasionally my eye swells up and the pressure is unbearable.
His parents and my insurance company werent too happy
about the eye doctor bills from this one.
In sixth grade, a crazy gym teacher was the cause of my next visit
to the emergency room. The injury happened while playing softball
in gym class on a day we were supposed to play dodge ball. I didnt
have my glove at school with me and the gym teacher refused to provide
us with gloves so we were left to play softball with a real softball
and no gloves. Real smart idea, eh? Anyways, I was playing first
base, seeing as how I was the only person on my team that could
catch a ball. The injury occurred when I reached out to catch a
ball. The ball hit the tip of my pointer finger on my right hand,
breaking the bone down the middle. The break ran thorough one knuckle,
stopping just before the middle one. That summer I realized just
how hard it is to play baseball with a splint on your finger.
In seventh grade, I decided that all four-foot 10 inches and 70
pounds of me wanted to play football. Yet another smart idea on
my part. For seventh grade competition I could hold my own, and
was touted as the best open field tackler on the team by the coach.
I found out the hard way in practice one day that if a play is going
on around you and you are on the ground, you need to watch your
hands. While lying on the ground, a teammate of mine stepped on
my little finger of my right hand, breaking it diagonally in two
different spots. I didnt think anything of it until after
practice when it was swollen and I couldnt move it.
I shook it off and practiced for about a week more when, while playing
out of position and rushing around the end in practice one day,
I had a clean shot at the quarterback. As I sacked him from behind,
his facemask was driven right into my finger, pinning it between
the ground and the facemask. This time the two breaks were connected
by a third break and my finger was royally screwed. After practice
I made another trip to the emergency room, this time at the request
of the athletic trainer. They x-rayed my finger and showed me the
breaks. The emergency room told me all they could do was splint
it and after the season I would have to rehab it if I wanted to
move it again.
Unless I am forgetting a minor injury I think my eighth grade year
went by relatively harmlessly. Ninth grade more than made up for
it though.
Ninth grade basketball, where do I begin? First off, what was I
thinking ever playing basketball at five foot one inch in ninth
grade? Granted I had started in seventh grade and was sixth man
in eighth grade, but freshman basketball was a little different.
My team went 19-1 and won the championship that year. I saw my fair
share of playing time, but only because we were up by 30 points
a lot of the time. Back to the injuries though. In ninth grade basketball
I broke my nose twice, both times on elbows from teammates in practice
and stabbed one of my lower teeth through my lower lip in practice
because of yet another elbow to the face. The broken noses werent
anything too serious, as the trainer set one and my coach set the
other. Yeah it hurt and was bloody, but it was better than going
to the emergency room yet again. The tooth through the lip though,
that garnered a trip. They said stitches werent necessary,
unless I wanted yet another scar on my face.
I think its safe to say that if CCMH was the bar Cheers, then
I would be Norm, because everyone knew my name. That or maybe Tim
the Tool Man Taylor, though I dont know if thats a fair
comparison.
Duke
Coach Receives Lifetime Contract Extension
When
you hear the name Duke University, perhaps the first
thing that you think of is the schools prominent academic
reputation as an undergraduate and graduate school. However, if
not the first thing, at least the second thing that should pop into
your head about Duke University is their tradition as one of the
top basketball programs in the country. It wasnt always this
way, though. Duke has only reached its prominence because of the
leadership of one man Mike Krzyzewski (if there was a proper
name version of Scrabble, that would be one hell of a triple word
score).
I can remember watching Duke beat UNLV in the national championship
game when I was only 10 years old, and although I knew nothing about
Duke before that years March Madness, their teams character
and dominance on the court intrigued me from that point on
I became a die-hard Duke fan. Although that would technically make
me a front-runner, since I was only 10 I would say that
makes it less so I have remained a huge Duke fan to this
day.
Since becoming head coach of Duke after the conclusion of the 1981
season (I was approximately two months old then), Krzyzewski has
led the Blue Devils to three national titles, six Atlantic Conference
championships and well over 500 victories. For many people, though,
it isnt solely his success as a coach that earns him their
respect. Rather, it is the professional way in which he has run
the Duke program since inheriting it intelligent and well-composed
players have always been a trademark of Blue Devil teams.
The way Krzyzewski has led the Blue Devils in his career has been
synonymous with that of a fine-tuned and successful corporation
Duke has been a contender for the national championship for
over a decade and, despite losing two top seniors (Shane Battier
and Nate James) from last years national championship team,
is picked to once again win the illustrious title this year.
At the age of 54, Krzyzewski certainly isnt too young, but
he isnt too old to add hundreds of wins to his already mammoth
total of 533 at Duke. While many of the NCAAs best coaches
have jumped ship to the NBA in recent years, Kryzyewski and the
university have made it clear that he has no intentions of venturing
into a land where many college coaches wish they hadnt gone.
Said Krzyzewski, I wish theyd start asking a pro coach,
Are you going college? To me, I got the better job,
at least for me.
To ensure that he doesnt change his mind, Duke University
offered Coach K a contract extension that goes through
2011 an extension that also holds an option to stay
longer if he wishes to at the age of 65.
While this extension offered by Duke is the first of its kind, its
rumored that Michigan State might offer proven coach Tom Izzo the
same contract soon.
So what is so significant about Krzyzewskis extension? Well,
first of all, it shows a committment by a prominent program to keep
the right guy for the job, and to also keep him from leaving for
the NBA a place that Coach K would rather avoid anyway considering
the recent adventures of former University of Kentucky rival Rick
Pitino. However, the most important thing to consider in this extension
is that this means that Duke is going to be a good team for a long
time. Sure, every team has their rebuilding and down years, but
the combination of Dukes name and Krzyzewskis name make
an unbeatable option for the top high school prospects in the country.
Just as Bobby Knights name alone drew the best players (well,
most of them) in the state of Indiana to Indiana University, the
already famous name of Mike Krzyzewski will undoubtedly ensure that
Duke remains a contender, probably until hes done coaching
that is, until he chooses to be done coaching.
Im betting that schools such as the University of Kentucky
wish they would have offered the same type of contract to Pitino
(Im pretty sure they didnt). Offering a life-time contract
and special assistant position to the President might have kept
him in the college coaching scene. Although hes back now with
Louisville, it may be awhile before hes able to successfully
build that program into a contender.
On the contrary, Dukes legacy is here to stay for quite a
while dont be suprised to see Coach K pick up close
to a thousand victories before he decides to put his illustrious
career to a halt.
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