"And she's ready to go in for the tackle, eyes eagerly on the opponents feet. He's got his head down. Wait - he's just run straight into her. She's actually rebounded backwards off of his head! It looks like he's headbutted her right in the boob. Well, now, that's something you don't usually see in a game of soccer"
That's what a fraction of the commentary would have sounded like from our Sunday afternoon mixed league indoor soccer game, if it was the kind of game that generated an audience. I was the she. I'm not entirely sure what my opponent was thinking at the time, perhaps in identifying me as a member of the fairer sex he thought I might stand aside, and let him pass. My thought was definitely that he'd try to go around, rather than through me.
So it's now Wednesday, and I'm propped up on a bean-bag diagnosed with a fractured rib. I'm tired and grumpy because I wake up every time I move in my sleep, but most of all it just hurts. Anyway, it got me to thinking. After surviving 28 and a half years without any broken bones, I've now broken 2 in the last 6 months. I'm beginning to believe that my personal trainer was right when she said I was the most accident prone person she knew. In the last year I have sprained my foot, broken my big toe, had a recurring shoulder injury, received numerous bruises, and now fractured a rib. What on earth is going on? Is this a sign that I've suddenly gotten old?
So after spending the first couple of months of the year explaining that I broke my toe in an awkward trapeze dismount, I'm now going to have to go about explaining that someone headbutted my boob and broke my ribs during an indoor soccer match. I hope the mileage I get from that story is worth the pain.
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