Somehow, some way, I always end up getting hurt in football. The Australian version. There's never a game where I won't sustain a 'football week' defining injury. Will it be the hamstring? The fingers? A bung knee? I always end up going home and feeling sick, and admiring my war wounds. There's a certain amount of pain I feel when getting bumped around by elbows, forearms to the face, knees to the solar plexus...before it feels good. Really. Want a way to relieve stress? Play an opposition football team that wants to hurt you, bad, for the best part of 2 hours. Then get hurt, bad, really bad. Screw your bubble baths and meditation, hit me, and make sure I feel it. Don't get me wrong, I don't seek fights, I just like to have the living daylights knocked out of me now and again.
The impacts one feels in a football match have to be felt to be appreciated.
I'm glad I play one of the most ridiculously lenient sports ever, at least lenient at an amateur level where a cheap shot to your stomach won't be caught on a camera and punished. There's no glory when I play, no one cares if you ridiculously put your body on the line, no one cares if you're in a world of hurt on your back feeling your ribs for broken bones.
Travelling in the car on the way home, I'm knocked into consciousness (tunnel vision is fun) when hearing Tyler Durden's words played to the sound of a soft Techno'ish beat on the radio. Literally. Don't know the name of the song. 'It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything. ' And suddenly I can't wait to play the next week and get hurt again.
This blog is inspired.
Here's the thoughts of a 20 year old male wasting his University studies.
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