I never used to be a band-aid. For those of you unfamiliar with the term, a band-aid is a player who is constantly missing games due to injury.
I can remember missing a game or two in my minor hockey career only twice. Once was because I took a bad knee-on-knee hit, and the other was because I tried to start a fight in the hallway of the Sportex after a game and got suspended.
Recently, I can’t seem to catch a break when it comes to injuries. Maybe “break” isn’t the best choice of words.
I got new skates this summer. I picked them up at a garage sale. They were way better than the Bauers I was using last year, my first year playing local oldtimer hockey with the Hasbeens.
I couldn’t believe my luck when I found them amongst some camping gear, the tags still on. They had never even been laced up.
At 35, I’m not the player I used to be. I’m not saying I was ever great, or even good. Nonetheless, when we played our first game this season in mid-September, I scored a couple of goals.
But boy were my feet killing me! Breaking in new skates can be painful. With each game, my feet seemed to be getting worse, particularly my right foot. I just clenched my teeth, loosened the laces and tried to make the best of it.
Finally, after a game in mid-November, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was practically hopping to the bench in the dressing room after the game, my right foot in agony.
The next day at the ER, the doctor sent me for an x-ray. He called me back into the examination room and asked, “When did you break your foot?”
It appeared I had broken my foot at least two or three months earlier. I really had to think about when it possibly could have happened, but I eventually figured it out.
Poor decision
Last summer, during a slo-pitch tournament, I made the poor decision to stop a smoking line drive with my right foot.
I was playing shortstop at the time. I don’t remember who hit the ball, but I’m pretty sure it was a girl. I’m also sure she hit the ball 10 times harder than I could have, so I wasn’t going to let this one get by me.
I couldn’t reach across my body with my glove in time to knock the ball down, so I stuck out my right foot to keep it from getting through into the outfield. It was one of those things you regret doing even before you realize the consequences.
I’m sure there was an audible crack, but although I was in pain, I was also stubborn.
I kept playing. It hurt for a week, but I thought I was just being a baby, and eventually the pain went away.
So here I am now, with a broken foot. The surgeon says he can fix it, but it will require surgery that involves a chisel, and he didn’t recommend going through with it. There is a chance it will do more damage than good.
Instead, he suggested I find a way to live with it.
My foot only hurts when I put on the skate. I let it rest for a couple of weeks, and then gave it another shot by suiting up for a game last week. I put padding in my skate and also padded around the bone itself. It didn’t help.
Unfortunately, I’m on the shelf again. Later in that same game, I was skating up the boards waiting for a breakout pass.
I was expecting the pass to come up the middle, but instead the D-man threw it up the boards. I turned my head the other way to hopefully catch it as it went passed, and felt my back go out.
I’ve had back pain before, but this was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I tried lying down on the bench, and that hurt. I tried to sit up but couldn’t.
It took me a minute, but I eventually got to my feet again. With 10 minutes left in the game, I hobbled off the ice and headed for the showers.
Maybe my body is trying to tell me something. Maybe it’s time to hang up the skates. Maybe it’s time to put my massage therapist on speed dial and stock up on Advil.
More than likely, I’ll be back on the ice in time for our next game. My back is spasming just thinking about it.
But at least I can ignore my foot until I strap on the blades.
