Tuesday, October 2, 2007
As most of you who read this already know, I play on a kickball team. As far as my position goes, most game nights are relatively uneventful. I rarely make it on base (usually because I forget to run after making contact with the ball), and opposing teams rarely kick the ball in my direction (which I am okay with because I'm not the best kickball catcher in the world). Still, last Thursday was an exception. During the second game of a double-header we were playing, a player from the other team kicked a pop-fly that went up somewhere between third base (where I have been playing while Kellie recovers) and the pitcher's mound. Allen, the captain and founder of the team, went running for the ball, but it didn't look like he had a good jump on it from my vantage point. In a truly un-Stacey-like move, I decided that there was a good possibility that I could catch the ball, so I went for it. Needless to say, Allen didn't see me coming, so we collided at full speed. I don't remember much about the fall or landing, but I do remember teammates trying to help me up while Allen was still sitting on my hair. Then, when he finally heard me say that he was on my hair, I got up and felt a terrible pain in my right leg. Kellie knows exactly where it hurt, but I'll choose not to share that on here (hehehe). The next couple of days brought quite a bit of pain, everywhere from my shoulder and ribs to my legs, head, and rear end (giggle). I limped through the school day on Friday and relaxed all day Saturday. The beginning of this week has seen a near complete reduction in pain. My ribs hurt a little when I sneeze, cough, or laugh, but it really isn't bad at all. Still, I do have a giant swollen bruise on my leg. Oddly enough, I have chosen to wear this bruise as a badge of honor. I am rather proud of it, feeling as though you can't be a real kickball player until the game has left its mark on you. Lesson Learned: stay out of Allen's way and never underestimate his amazing kickball skills!