The bad luck continues. I broke my nose during the first quarter of Monday’s game after attempting to double team their big guy. This did not have the intended effect, because instead of passing the ball out he decided to move my face out of the way with his elbow. It did not feel good. I knew instantly my nose was broken, so I was just hoping I didn’t have a concussion. I felt pretty dazed for a while but I never felt nauseated and I never lost consciousness so I figured I was OK on the head injury front.
I contemplated going back in the game for the second half, but I got talked out of it by people who were thinking more clearly than I was. That ended up being the right decision because we won by 20. A total of 0 players from the other team asked if I was alright. Real classy Hod Hasheron. Hopefully we can beat them tonight at their place and advance to the semi-finals. I have to wear a mask. I’m hoping I pull a Richard Hamilton and love it so much that I wear it for years. Continue reading “More Bad Luck”
I was cleaning my room and found the speech I made at the basketball banquet my senior year of college. Thought it would be interesting to throw up here. It’s kind of sappy, but whatever. It got laughs at the time. At least I didn’t skip the event entirely to go to a Nas concert, something I actually considered. Continue reading “College Speech”
Basically, all the factors mentioned in the previous post culminated in me and Coach Fitz having our first of 2 epic showdowns. Before I get to that, there is the little matter of Stacie the trainer to discuss. The story cannot be complete without understanding that after I would get my body beat up by the strength coach, I would seek solace in the training room in the form of massage, ice baths, etc. But at one point sophomore year the pain in my knee got to where I had to go to the training room everyday to get electrical stim and ice on my knee. Despite this, I was never able to get Stacie to stick up for me in my fight to be exempt from heavy squatting. She was very friendly with Coach Fitz, and was not keen on disagreeing with any of his philosophies. I am not an expert, all I know is that my knee hurt a lot, and it hurt even more when I did squats. Stacie would spin all these BS yarns about how I needed to maintain the strength in my leg (like i couldn’t do that other ways) and how squatting wasn’t that bad. I also found out the hard way that there is no such thing as athlete-trainer confidentiality. Many things I thought I was saying only to Stacie mysteriously ended up being used against me by Coach Fitz. (Lesson: Just because someone occasionally acts nice and has a hint of a warm southern accent does not mean they will not stab you in the back.) Continue reading “The 4 Year War: Drew vs. Coach Fitz Part 2”
Quick game update: We lost our first game by 1 and our second by about 20. I did not participate in either. My knee is not progressing as me or anyone had hoped it would, and I should be getting an MRI sometime this week.
On to the story of what happened today in practice. Because I have nothing to do at practice I get to do exciting tasks such as keeping score or tracking fouls. Generally I just stand there bored out of my mind and shoot during breaks. Today was a different story. Continue reading “How I Incited a Brawl”
Soooooo, slight setback out here. I was coming off a pick and roll and making a move toward the basket when I was fouled, causing me to slip. My entire lower left leg bent inward as my knee slammed into the ground. Needless to say, it hurt.
I hopped up and off the court cursing, furious that I had to sustain an injury at such a bad time. My immediate post trauma treatment consisted of the old guy who fills our water bottles brining me two ice cubes in a plastic bag and some saran wrap. That’s about as good as the care gets out here. Then the manager tried to get me to stand on one leg to determine where it hurt, and it took a lot for me to not snap at him. I then had to take a 30 min drive just to see the trainer, who used one poke and one twist to make his diagnosis of the problem. (both of which caused shooting pain) It literally toke about 10 seconds. I asked if I needed an MRI, and he assured me that I did not, and that he has seen this injury a million times. Great. Continue reading “Setback”