We’re total wussies these days.
I look back at my grandfather’s era and those guys were tough. If they got hurt it was because they were doing something manly like cutting wood and the axe caught their leg during their twelfth hour of chopping. They rubbed some dirt in it, spit and cut another cord. Not us. We complain and take medications for everything.
The reason for this post is that I wounded my finger yesterday and now it’s swollen and hurts like hell. How it happened is shameful, but what the hell. I’ll you anyway.
I was unloading the dishwasher and a piece of cheese had melted and dried onto a bowl. I started picking it a little and it didn’t budge. It was baked on like no one’s business. So I started getting into it – hard. Nothing. So now it’s more about not letting this piece of cheese beat me than it is about getting the bowl clean. I changed my stance, got some leverage and let ‘er rip with the same aggressiveness that my dog goes after his balls. And what happens? The cheese finally comes off, slides right under my fingernail with maximum force, and slices the hell out of the skin right under the nail. It’s like a paper cut under your fingernail, and it hurt like a bitch. I dug the cheese out, ran some cold water on it, and went about my day.
The cheese wasn’t going down without a fight; the throbbing actually woke me up that night. My cut had gotten worse and by the next day my finger was swollen and didn’t look right. Who the hell has ever been taken down by cheese? Ham … maybe, but not cheese for Christ sake. My wife said it could be infected. How could it be infected? My first big injury of the year is being cut by cheese? As I was drowning it in antibacterial rinse I thought to myself, “This is terrible, what kind of a man would even admit to an injury like this?” Then I remembered all the athletes who have missed games for ridiculous things, such as:
Wade Boggs got hurt putting his cowboy boots on.
Ken Griffey Jr. missed a game after pinching his balls in his cup.
Sammy Sosa threw his back out by sneezing.
John Smoltz once burned his chest while ironing his shirt … he was still wearing it.
Terry Mullholland went on the DL after scratching his eye on a feather … that was hanging out of his pillow.
I feel a tad better now, but I do wish we had something other than Scooby-Doo band-aids.