Monday, February 27, 2012

Break A Leg


I guess it was inevitable.
All those years of playing sports and getting through unscathed, my luck was bound to run out sometime. I just wish it happened while I was playing Chess or Poker. Is poker regarded as a sport? I don't know. I'm sure I read somewhere that someone once received a gash to the head during a game of poker.

Friday night at the Action Cricket arena was supposed to be like every other night of cricket I've played for the past few years. I get there, we kick some ass, we celebrate, I come home and brag about how brilliant our team is over a hot meal, I shower and go to bed.
I've played for a few teams over the years, and each one has been better than it's predecessor. This season's team is no exception. What makes it different though is that this team comprises of 6 Pakistanis and just two of us local boys. (There's 8 team members in an action cricket team, for those who didn't know)

On Friday night, we were scheduled to play against a team comprising of 8 Indian nationals!
That's not 8 Indians from Durban or 8 Indians from Fordsburg.
That's 8 Indians from India, the motherland, who look Indian, speak Indian, and play cricket like Indians. The fact that they now live in South Africa matters not.

As captain of the team, I knew that the game would be tense. If the handshakes before the game were anything to go by, this game might as well have been the Cricket World Cup Final between Pakistan and India. The only thing missing was the threat of bombs and the heightened security, and maybe the smell of Biryani being cooked court side.

We won the toss and decided to field first.
Just before the end of the 4th over, I dived to the right to field a ball at arms length above my head and was in mid-flight when I knew I was in trouble. My trajectory was not in sync with my landing gear, and I crashed to the ground landing on my knee, twisting it in the process. I think I may have screamed before I even hit the ground.

It's the most pain I have ever felt, and I have felt tremendous pain during my time in Vietnam in my first few years of marriage.
When I opened my eyes, I was surrounded by my team-mates, the umpire, Jesus and Elvis. Three of them asked how I was feeling, while one of them offered me some crack. I won't mention names.

The rest of the night was a blur, but I do recall my team trying to lift me into the air after we won, then there was a painful moment when I tried to remove my clothes before climbing into bed, and finally this morning I woke up and realized I'd be walking on crutches for a while.

The highlight of my weekend was bumping into an 80year old geezer also sporting crutches, who hobbled toward me and asked "So what happened to you then?"
I was tempted to tell him it was a sex-related injury, but kept silent when he said he hurt his knee years back riding a motorbike.
I guess I'll be hobbling about on these crutches for the next few weeks at best.

Bring on Monday already. I've experienced pain. There's nothing Monday could possibly do to scare me now.