I was feeling very alpha male playing hockey last week.
When the kid outrunning people all night got the puck, I thought, not on my watch. I put my head down and dug in, pushing off and pumping my legs with everything I got.
That would prove to be a regrettable decision. The fact that the little b@!#$& was at least half my age, didn’t play a part in it. He was fast. He got a step on me, but, out of sheer stubbornness, I manage to deflect his shot high.
At 90 miles an hour, I did the splits. I felt a distinct all-too-familiar tear, and landed on my baynus. The goalie, with remarkable dexterity for his size, dove out the way as I crashed feet-first into the net.
In dressing room parlance, the baynus is the space between the balls and the anus. Also known as the perineum. It didn’t start to really tighten up until I left the bar several hours later.
Taking 6 inch steps, and in excruciating pain, I barely made it to a waiting cab. At home, I lied back on the bed with my legs in the air, and inspected the injury.
There was no blood. Everything looked normal – not that I look at myself from that perspective on a regular basis. My manzillian needs some touching up, that’s all:)
There is a point to this story. There’s several in fact. The first one is, don’t be an idiot. Let him score.
Two, at times like these even an atheist will thank God for a salt water hot tub. The salt just fixes everything. The relief is instantaneous. Blessedly, the pain is gone. And it stays gone for hours afterwards.
The tub is available for clients. And can be rented by the hour.
The third point, if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ve been teaching Core N Stretch at Panacea Studio, and doing the splits comprehensively, I’d be in the hospital that night. And hockey would be over forever.
Be strong, fuerte. Ciao, Pietro