(no subject)
God has officially decided to tell me that I should never play sports. Or perhaps go outside, ever again.
Yesterday I was invited by a nice young lady to play baseball. I haven't played baseball in quite a few years, but I thought it'd be a good chance to get outside. So I show up at the field, it's down in Tustin and is pretty nice. I brought Gatorade and water, and everyone there was cool. Someone even had a glove for a leftie like me, and things were cool.
Then I got up to bat.
I chose the wooden bat, because I like the feel of wooden bats and the nice, cracking sound they make. It's traditional. The girl playing all time catcher told me, "Wooden bats don't hit very far", as she stood there with her cigarette in one hand, glove on the other. She wasn't exactly dressed for baseball either.
I hit the first pitch, I suppose I was impatient. It wasn't a very good hit, but I ran it out anyways, and there was always the chance the first baseman wouldn't catch it.
Wouldn't you know it, Converse All-Stars have never made for very good traction on baseball dirt. I should have remembered this, it's a lesson I've learned several times.
In the process of slowing down, I slipped/slid into first base, still getting tagged out. During this I cut up my right knee, and I though, eh, it's a scrape, no big deal. I got an RBI, and we had one run. Except after looking closer at the wound on my knee, it looked a lot deeper. I dumped some water on it and saw a deep red cut on my knee, probably deeper than any other I have had. Everyone else who saw it got freaked out and said I should go to the hospital. I didn't think it was that bad, but we scored a first aid kit and dumped a bunch of Hydrogen Peroxide (H2O2, right?) on it, and while that didn't hurt, looking at the gash creeped me out. Bandaged it, and Josh from the band Addison was nice enough to drive me over to the ER in my car and hang out with me until I got patched up.
So ER's are pretty disgusting, kinda felt like walking into a Carl's Jr. Eventually they took me back into the prompt care area (though a 2 hour wait isn't very prompt, is it?), cleaned out the gravel with a bunch of water, and after another half hour, just stuck a band-aid on it. No stitches, because since it was on the knee, they would tear, and there wasn't any strong enough skin to anchor it to. I was given a prescription for something called Keflex, an antibiotic, which I haven't picked up yet because there weren't any 24 hour pharmacies open, that I could find. I hit a Rite-Aid anyways and got more band-aids, some tylenol, and went home, only to lock my keys in the car. Since my Triple AAA card never came from when I tried to sign up for it back in December, and my roommate's was canceled 9 days ago, I called about 3 other towing companies before getting one to come out and charge me $75 to open my car up. Since they only took cash, I had to walk over to the bank (aggravating my knee more), and wander around trying to find the tow truck guy to let him in the parking area.
All in all it was a pretty good weekend up until Sunday afternoon. It's funny to think how it could have been avoided by a number of things: if I had used a metal bat, maybe I wouldn't have hit the ball. If I had worn different shoes, I wouldn't have fallen, etc. I wouldn't mind playing again, but I'll be more wary of things like that. Stupid freaking converse. They'll be the death of me.
Yesterday I was invited by a nice young lady to play baseball. I haven't played baseball in quite a few years, but I thought it'd be a good chance to get outside. So I show up at the field, it's down in Tustin and is pretty nice. I brought Gatorade and water, and everyone there was cool. Someone even had a glove for a leftie like me, and things were cool.
Then I got up to bat.
I chose the wooden bat, because I like the feel of wooden bats and the nice, cracking sound they make. It's traditional. The girl playing all time catcher told me, "Wooden bats don't hit very far", as she stood there with her cigarette in one hand, glove on the other. She wasn't exactly dressed for baseball either.
I hit the first pitch, I suppose I was impatient. It wasn't a very good hit, but I ran it out anyways, and there was always the chance the first baseman wouldn't catch it.
Wouldn't you know it, Converse All-Stars have never made for very good traction on baseball dirt. I should have remembered this, it's a lesson I've learned several times.
In the process of slowing down, I slipped/slid into first base, still getting tagged out. During this I cut up my right knee, and I though, eh, it's a scrape, no big deal. I got an RBI, and we had one run. Except after looking closer at the wound on my knee, it looked a lot deeper. I dumped some water on it and saw a deep red cut on my knee, probably deeper than any other I have had. Everyone else who saw it got freaked out and said I should go to the hospital. I didn't think it was that bad, but we scored a first aid kit and dumped a bunch of Hydrogen Peroxide (H2O2, right?) on it, and while that didn't hurt, looking at the gash creeped me out. Bandaged it, and Josh from the band Addison was nice enough to drive me over to the ER in my car and hang out with me until I got patched up.
So ER's are pretty disgusting, kinda felt like walking into a Carl's Jr. Eventually they took me back into the prompt care area (though a 2 hour wait isn't very prompt, is it?), cleaned out the gravel with a bunch of water, and after another half hour, just stuck a band-aid on it. No stitches, because since it was on the knee, they would tear, and there wasn't any strong enough skin to anchor it to. I was given a prescription for something called Keflex, an antibiotic, which I haven't picked up yet because there weren't any 24 hour pharmacies open, that I could find. I hit a Rite-Aid anyways and got more band-aids, some tylenol, and went home, only to lock my keys in the car. Since my Triple AAA card never came from when I tried to sign up for it back in December, and my roommate's was canceled 9 days ago, I called about 3 other towing companies before getting one to come out and charge me $75 to open my car up. Since they only took cash, I had to walk over to the bank (aggravating my knee more), and wander around trying to find the tow truck guy to let him in the parking area.
All in all it was a pretty good weekend up until Sunday afternoon. It's funny to think how it could have been avoided by a number of things: if I had used a metal bat, maybe I wouldn't have hit the ball. If I had worn different shoes, I wouldn't have fallen, etc. I wouldn't mind playing again, but I'll be more wary of things like that. Stupid freaking converse. They'll be the death of me.