It's been a little uptight here on the blog lately with all the school food and mountain lion talk. So I thought I'd share some great stories from my early days. Today I'll share one of my most embarrassing moments. Tomorrow I'll share the other one.
If you knew me in high school, you were probably there for at least one of these. And if you weren't, you definitely heard them and probably repeated them.
Without further ado, one of my most embarrassing moments...
You may not realize it now, but I was a basketball player at one time in my life. Yes, it is true. I was the daughter of a basketball coach and played in our yard and the rec center for hours at a time. I loved basketball. Back when I played (Moses was our coach), girls played basketball in the fall. I was a sophomore in high school and was playing on the varsity team.
This particular night, we were playing our arch rivals. It was hot in the gym, in more ways than one. The temperature was climbing, the score was close and getting closer.
It was the fourth quarter and I was on the bench at the time. My teammate stole the ball and went coast to coast for a lay-up. The crowd went wild! The bench erupted and I leapt into the air, cheering and yelling.
And I came down on the side of my left foot and felt my ankle give way.
My best friend was sitting next to me as I gasped in pain. She asked if she should get our coach. I told her no, we were trying to win the game. I cinched up my laces really tight and hoped that I wouldn't be asked to go into the game.
Thankfully, I didn't have to go in. And we won the game!
So no one noticed as I limped painfully to the locker room. I quietly gathered my things and fought my way through the pain to the car.
I got home and my dad asked, "What happened to you?" I told him that I twisted my ankle during the game. He replied, "When did that happen? I watched the whole game and I didn't see you get hurt."
Then I had to admit to my father that it happened while I was sitting on the bench.
He snuffed. He snorted. He laughed.
And then he helped me unlace my shoe and pull it from my already swollen ankle.
As was the medical treatment practice in our family, we waited to see how it was in the morning. It wasn't pretty. It was black and blue, swollen and very painful. And to make matters worse, my toes were blue. This seemed pretty serious so into the doctor I went.
When the doctor, and the radiologist, and the technician heard how it happened and wiped the tears of laughter from their eyes, they concluded that they weren't sure if it was broken. I was to keep all weight off of it for a week and then they would re-evaluate.
I was sent to school with crutches. And had to tell the tale again.
A week later, the doctor decided that I needed to immobilize it for at least two weeks. I was put into a knee to toe cast. The humiliation continued...
I was the one who shredded her ankle while sitting on the bench.