I’m no Willis Reed

Willis Reed did for the ankle sprain what Mahatma Gandhi did for starvation and what Brittany Spears couldn’t do for K-Fed. He made the worst thing ever seem cool as shit. Willis hobbled onto the old Garden floor in game 7 of the 1970 NBA finals and despite playing only a few minutes nailed a shot that willed the Knickerbockers on to a championship. It was recently honored as the #1 moment in MSG history and that can be vouched for by Howie Hoops (my dad) who was in attendance that night.

Unfortunately, my most recent ankle sprain was met with a bit less fanfare and a lot more pain than glory. I was enjoying one of my most serviceable games in my otherwise pitiful first season of intramural basketball for the All B-Squad when I rolled my ankle running up the court. Didn’t even land awkwardly on somebody’s foot or anything. G-d just decided l-hoops wasn’t making it up the court successfully this possession. I had to call time out and remove myself from the game. This is the third really bad ankle sprain I’ve had playing basketball since junior year of college and in all of them I stumbled over nothing by myself. Makes you wonder, huh. Maybe there is a little amoeba that has it out for me and messes with my footing on the basketball court. Or maybe I just suck at basketball and I’m such a clutz the only thing I do effectively is injure myself. Think I need to stick to ping pong and softball.

Anyhow, here is the photo from my camera phone. I was in bed at 1 AM actually watching it get bigger and bigger. It was like somebody cracked a nitrous cartridge in my ankle. For those of you in cali who I called, thanks for putting up with my mopyness.

sprained anke #1

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