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|- Wednesday, January 29, 2003 -|

orazzio @ 6:36 PM #
 
Legless

Ok. Its true I admit it. I am your typical armchair general. The ex-athlete who never quite was. I was kicking ye olde socccer ball around a park the other day with some women of the European variety. In the interests of my health,

Health: something I dont have; wish to acquire
Health Club; a club freqented by the worst kind of fag hags-the ones who arent gay

They kicked the ball away from me so I would give chase. The more confident I was with reeling the ball in and returning a deft pass, the heftier the challenge. Then a race was issued. The ball was spotted at 60 yards and the fastest competitor at the forty with myself on the start line.

The starter called the race and we were off. My reaction time perfect, my explosiveness superhuman, I ran with absolute torque, each step catapoulting a mass of flexing muscle forward. I felt the past glory's of a decorated youth, championships, medals, girls and the honour of being 'the fastest on the continent' flash past with the wind which rasped hard on my face. I was at the back of the leader in a nanosecond to the gaping disbelief of onlookers.

I felt powerful again. A man who could conquer the world. On planting my right foot I heard something no sprinter ever wants to hear, a loud bang coming from the underside of my thigh. My hamstring ruptured at full flight. It popped like a bob bon. The muscles playing an endless tug - of - war both los,t as their line (my muscle) snapped. I screamed in a voice that echoed into the suburbs. Birds took flight. Hands went over mouths and a silence washed over the field. The only sound was my gut wrenching howl. I distinctly remember running two more steps before realising that I had to go down. My brain hadnt forgotten what it was programmed to do from a very young age - WIN AT ALL COSTS. It took a full second for my brain to register that I was 'playing' and I was in a 'public park' and I was racing a 'girl'. When those thoughts were filed in my grey matter, I was gone for all money, down in fits of pain. The acceleration and propolsion of all my power caused me to fall into a twelve metre slide, tearing and ripping the felsh off my good leg which was playing the role of emergency landing gear. I curled into a heap. Still screaming. Blood gushing from the dozens of lacerations that my landing gear had endured. Unable to move. Just frozen in time.

It was a postcard moment. A still frame in space when everybody digested the magnitude of what they had just witnessed. Then I began to laugh uncontrollably. I often laugh when something hurts me emotionally or physically in way that is too difficult to comprehend. Like my body is saying I cant handle this and it laughs as the ultimate release of my entire central nervous system. I was level headed enough to wait some time before I stood, well, tried to stand. My leg was was a wet waffle. A cruddy damp neglected apendage waiving in the evening breeze. I was carried away.

The laughter didnt stop. I was 100 kilometres from home base I only had one leg (bleeding and butchered, but a leg none the less) and only a stick shift sedan to get me there. But perhaps that is another story........


.: orazzio :.
 
 
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