Okay, not much to this story, but I couldn't resist the headline. Come on, "My Busted Bum" that's friggin GOLD, baby!!!
So what story there is...
Cave begged, implored, blubbered, and whined until I consented to play racketball tonight. Now, most of you know that if I had an animal spirit guide, it'd be the tree sloth. What can I say, I'm sedate. But hell, even a sloth likes a good sweat now and then.
Let me also add that I haven't played racketball since my freshman year at OSU. 10 or 11 years folks. But none the less, off we trudged to the Rec. Smoking all the way, naturally.
Well, since I still barely remembered the rules, and yes, was coughing my way through the first game, he smoked me. 15-2, if I remember. And I think the 2 was only sympathy, or maybe so as not to ace me.
Regardless, and jumping ahead, I did do fairly well picking the game back up. I managed to rally and take a 9-8 lead in the 3rd before faltering and losing 15-9.
Oh, and to be fair, this was the second time today that Cave played. And during the first set he DID take a racket to the head leaving a goose egg the size of my busted bum, oddly. So its fair to say that at full speed he'd have smoked me straight through.
But now that's not the point then, is it? You wanna know about the broken bum. The poor, aching, sagging lump of flesh I now sit happily on.
Well, somewhere in the 2nd, Cave launched a monster into the corner...shot, not fart. Naturally, I was standing about 5 feet too far forward, but heck, I'm nothing if not stubborn and I CAN hit anything...accuracy not withstanding.
Now remember the "sloth" statement a few paragraphs back. Well, sloths don't actually jump, we stretch. And so I stretched. This was no normal stretch. This was more like Jane Fonda running for President of the NRA. Olympic quality strech. Problem was, I reacted late and so stretched not just up, but back. WAY back. WAY WAY back. (Note: if you find two missing vertebrae on Court 1 of the A&M Rec, gimmie a call, I MIGHT be the long lost owner.) So at some point, the forces of gravity decided to ignore me, then suddenly smother me with affection, in a very S&M sorta way.
I'm not sure, but before I came down, I think I actually achieved a 15% angle from the ground, though I'm not quite sure how high I was at that point. Let's say 90 ft, just to be conservative. Well, needless to say, in the final seconds of my freefall, both me feet and my head had a higher elevation than my ass. And landing on your ass does indeed rattle your teeth.
So, there you have it, the story of my, okay, not broken, but definitely aching, busted bum.
Goodness, that was fun.
3 comments:
That's hilarious. A very Aggie moment :) Maybe CS is rubbing off on you...
I think you should make a t-shirt..."I played racket ball and all I got was a busted ass!"
Okay, maybe it's the beer talking, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.
Smoking all the way? I thought you were quiting? Well, that's one thing we can always say about you Auz, you are not a quiter! :)
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