Friday night while having dinner with fellow Dat Blog founders Beardo and Gonzo, we were discussing injuries. I noted that I hadn't really had many injuries since I stopped playing sports, and I figured that the only real injuries I ever got were from sports. Beardo quickly reminded me that I've also managed to hurt myself on many other occasions, doing what he deemed "stupid shit". He was absolutely correct. I had completely overlooked the very long list of injuries I've received from, well there's no better way to say it, doing stupid shit.
One of the best instances of this, and possibly my favorite story to tell people, happened in the fall of 7th grade. I was at Gonzo's house on a weekend in the fall. We were bored, we were young, and we were stupid. Our task for that day was to make a pendulum. We didn't really know much about the construction of a pendulum, but that it was basically something heavy on a string hanging from something high up. So we compiled our resources, a wooden baseball bat, a low hanging tree branch, and a shit load of twine. In Gonzo's backyard, there used to be a swing set, that was positioned right next to our low hanging tree branch, so we cut about 15 feet of twine, tied one end of it to the bat, and the other end to the swing set so in case it got caught in a tree we could easily pull it down. The last step was to throw the bat over the branch, so it could hang down and work like a pendulum. It all seemed easy enough.
I was the strongest in the group, and the only one of us to ever pursue any sports past the second season, so I was in charge of tossing the bat. It was a harder task then one might think. I must have spent a good half an hour throwing that stupid bat in the air and running away before it could hit me when it didn't get over the tree. After a while I got annoyed and had Gonzo try a couple times, and then his brother, but neither of them succeeded. I took the bat again and decided I would try a couple more times. I almost got it once, but it didn't make it. I was so angry that we wasted so much time that I had to take my anger out on something, and I had a bat in my hand. I threw it once more, but this time I didn't throw it up towards the branch, I threw it straight across the backyard.
Now if you remember, we had tied the bat to the swing set. And I happened to be standing right next to that swing set when I threw the bat in anger. The bat went out about 15 feet, before there was no twine left, and it whipped back in my direction. I didn't have any time to think, or yell, or duck, or do anything really, all I managed to do was close my eyes. Then the bat hit me, right across the face, harder than anything I had ever felt before. If I hadn't closed my eyes, I would have seen the fattest part of the bat in full swing coming straight at my right eye. Had it been a baseball, and not my eye, I have no doubt it would have at least been a stand up double.
I didn't fall down, or get knocked out, I just grabbed my eye and ran around the backyard like a chicken with its head cut off yelling any obscenities that came to my mind. After a minute or so I calmed down enough to sit and let Gonzo look at it. I could still see, which was nice, but my eye had already swollen to the size of a Clementine. We decided it would be best if I went home and got some aspirin and maybe laid down.
I had a black eye for a week or so, and a serious headache for the night, but the humiliation I received from my family still continues to this day.
hahahahaha
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