Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Non est misericordia

For the last several years we've been playing "family soccer" on a more or less regular basis with a group of families from the neighborhood. Everyone plays - 5 year olds, 50 year olds - everyone. I bought us pinneys (I'm not playing shirts and skins - even in May) and cones to mark the edges of the fields, and pack the first aid kit (added after trying to cope with a bloody nose without even a tissue in anyone's pocket!); the kids call around to announce time and field location. We are quite a contrast to the organized games we often share quarters with. No refs, no uniforms (other than the orange pinneys), very assorted sizes and no one on the sidelines shooting photos or drinking coffee.

The kids' official motto is "show no mercy" and they don't, and I've often had the bruises to show for it. Crash and Barnacle Boy are both now taller than I am, and outweigh me - and it may be time to rethink their approach to the game. In a battle for the ball this weekend, I was perhaps a bit more aggressive than I should have been and got side-swiped by a 13 yr old. Something in my knee went pop, but after a couple of minutes, it didn't hurt, so I went on to play. Alas, when I got home I realized that my knee made an audible crunching sound as I went up the stairs and it was swelling. Uh-oh.

Final verdict? Torn ligament in the ankle, tear in the MCL on one knee, torn cartilage in both knees. No more soccer for a while. Non est misericordia.

The photo is of the Boy versus our backyard neighbor.


  1. ouch! one comment... it may not be the children who need to rethink their game. I have retired myself from student staff athletics at work.

    may God's healing power flow through those legs of yours.

  2. Sounds painful...hope you heal soon.

  3. Yikes. So sorry to hear of the injury and praying that you'll heal soon.

    Got your email, thanks, and am praying for you on your own mini retreat tonight and tomorrow. Better get back to mine.


  4. Wayne, you are likely right about who needs to rethink the strategy!

    The cure is put my feet up and let my guys tend to me - how bad can that be?

    My 18 hours of silence was lovely, though I missed my usual walk through the hedgerows.

  5. Oh, ouch. Lots of sympathy and empathy (on knee and ankle injuries, and on having to, um, re-orient one's mind to the fact that one's body is no longer 20-something...). I hope your guys bring you lots of hugs, tea, and chocolate.

    Good for you for taking good care of yourself!

    - Stasa