Falling : The Injury That Restored My True Identity

We walked together to the field, the spikes on the bottom of my cleats clicking with each step on the parking lot pavement. A huge field with onlookers filling the bleachers on the far side came into view, lit up by the soft evening light. I spotted the girls on my team and my tired looking grey-haired coach. Me and my dad split up, me going to warm up with my team and my dad going to sit with the team parents. As I was passing with my teammates I watched the opposing team carefully. I observed how neat their drills were and how accurate their shots and passes were. They all looked so athletic and that really made me doubt myself. How was I supposed to prove to everyone that I was a good player if I had to play against a team this good? What if I mess up and the other team completely destroys my team? The loud buzzer that ended the warm ups sounded and both teams went to their side of the field. My coach called today’s starters out, and luckily he didn’t choose me. Relieved, I went to go sit on one of the hard metal chairs they provided for the teams on the sidelines. The chairs were uncomfortable but that didn’t bother me. I had other things on my mind. I sat shivering watching the events of the game

In the personal narrative “My Body, My Weapon, My Shame,” Elwood Reid retells his experience playing football for a Big Ten college. He goes through practice with intense ferocity and cares little about physically abusing his body. However, despite his strength and athletic prowess, the coaches only view him as something of their possession rather than a human being. From the practices to the training room to the parties, Reid describes with reluctance and candor the sad reality of belonging to someone else. As a football player who lends his body out every single play, from whistle to whistle, enduring the pain and fatigue from both physical and mental abuse, he does not even get the satisfaction of being called a human. Through similes and

It was that time of the year again, football season. Football is a sport in which I am very passionate about, I never knew I could or would be so passionate towards something, until one very specific game. It was a Saturday afternoon, the breeze was just right, the temperature was just right; not to cold and not too hot. Being the first game of the season I didn’t know if I was going to play or not. However, I was proven wrong Coach Smith hollered “Shawn!” I stood up startled at first and right then and there I knew that was my moment to shine and shine is what I did.

It was a brisk fall evening, and my seventh grade youth football team and I had traveled to Aberdeen to play the undefeated Chiefs. We had worked harder and longer than we ever had that week to show that we were a threat in the league and ascend from our third place ranking. We knew it was not going to be easy; the Chiefs’ team had the fastest running back in our division, and they had scored more total points per game than any other team in the Southeast Idaho Youth Football League. The field was neater and greener than we had expected in this town. It was a great day for football, and I was with all of my best friends. I knew going in that it was going to be a learning experience whether we won or lost that night because the Chiefs were

When I was a sophomore in High School, I thoroughly enjoyed playing sports. But one day, all of that came to an end. I was at Football practice when things took a turn for the worst. I don’t really remember happened honestly. All that I remember was being very confused. I had received a concussion, the effects of which would be devastating in the months to come. Writing about it is rather difficult. I would compare it to trying to make sense of a flipbook that is missing the majority of its’ pages. Everything was a haze. No one knew what happened either. I wasn't hit very hard, I didn’t even fall down, but it was enough to affect everything from my grades to my weight in the months to come. I remember at the end of practice during conditioning; I turned to one of my

This cliché echoed in my ears as I picked myself off the floor. I could see the crowd in the sidelines—fans in worry and shock. I tried to get up only to find that I could not. Some teammates sprinted over to help lift me up, but their sportsmanlike intentions only worsened the pain. After gathering enough willpower, I arose and hobbled over to the bench, feeling ashamed at my inability to fend for my own team.

Eventually though, my frustration through this injury disappeared, and I can contribute that to physical therapy. I was entranced by the profession. Keeping active and healthy while helping all sorts of people regain their confidence in their own bodies. The environment was relaxing yet productive and I immediately felt at ease. I could trust these people and they could get me out of my slump. As I finished up my rehabilitation (that went without a hitch I’m glad to say) I realized that a job like physical therapy was something I felt an extreme passion for.I could see myself as a Physical Therapist, and the qualities clicked with me; patience, empathy, optimism and determination. I may have given up football, but a new path opened up for me. The ascent into my future had finally begun, and stopping is not an

Here I am, my sophomore year in high school, the athletic trainer of the school’s girls’ varsity basketball team. Not even halfway into the season I tear my ACL, remind you I am not a player, I am the trainer. After what seemed like months, I finally have my surgery and I start physical therapy. I sit in the cold waiting room flipping through magazines waiting for my name to be called. I have butterflies in my stomach as I wonder what could possibly behind those large wooden doors. “Kierra Swindall”, they call out. I look

There are about 40-50 career-ending sports injuries a year and I was one of them. Back in 2013, my father forced me to go out for football. That was the best thing I could have done until… One day everything changed.

This moral story is about a kid named A.J. also known as “Junior.” Junior is a football player at University of Pittsburgh. He was an all-star in high school but hasn’t done too well in college. He misses being an all-star and has done training to strengthen his body but doesn’t want to put in the time. So he decided to try a new few things.

Many moments from our youth may fade while other experiences remain vividly embedded in our memories. Perhaps because, like a cut to our skin, an open wound, it takes time to heal. At the start of my sophomore year I was cut from the high school volleyball team I worked so hard to be a part of. All my life I have trained to be the best athlete I could be. I joined volleyball at the age of seven with a goal of being on my high school volleyball team. During sophomore tryouts as the final minutes ticked by the coaches started to call individual people in their office one at a time for cuts and unfortunately I was called. The finality of the coach’s words, ‘you’re not on the team anymore’ filled the room as my world fell apart. The practices, the games, the knee pads, the uniform—was suddenly present but

On a hazy morning, it all starts with an obnoxious ring that bounces off of the bare walls of my room. What proceeds is the monotony of my morning that extends to the rest of my day: alarm, metro, mourning weightlifting school, homework, meeting, practice, sleep, alarm, and repeat. Over the three years of playing football under the scorching heat, the copious hours of practice, weightlifting, meetings, and the seemingly never-ending duration of the season, many wondered why I even came out to play Football. To others, it seemed pointless, but to me football has been my passion and, football has created life-long friends, experiences, and achievements in my life. All the trials and tribulations, the exhilarating rush, dynamics, strategic complexity,

As our bodies collided mid-air, I couldn’t dictate exactly how I would fall on the rugby pitch that winter day during my freshman year. I landed hard on my right arm as the players over and around me continued the play. As the game drew to a close, the pain in my arm increased. My physician, Dr. Moran, explained what he saw with an easy smile. I had fractured my wrist. As a former college basketball player and orthopedic surgeon, he’d seen this injury many times. As my mind raced with thoughts of how I was going to deal with the injury and school, Dr. Moran remained calm. For him, it was less about the reconstruction of my hand, although it was important, but preserving my livelihood as best as possible after treatment. Even though I struggled

The book, Standing Tall: The Kevin Everett Story (Published in 2008) written by Sam Carchidi is about a former NFL player overcoming a seemingly irreversible injury during his professional career. I selected this book because it reminds me of the days when I played football in high school and how fortunate I was to be able to walk away from the sport with no severe injuries. I constantly read about the freak accidents in football that either left an athlete with a lifelong injury or sometimes even death. This book stood out to me because it is about a player who went against the odds and was able to somewhat recover from what seemed like an injury that would have left him disabled for the rest of his life.

Falling. That's what I woke up to. Not actually falling, because I was still in my bed. I was safe. Physically, maybe, but not emotionally; emotionally, I was in constant free-fall hurtling towards the surface at 9.8 m/s^2. I'm bracing myself for impacted but of course that's an involuntary action. I can tell because my heart is beating out of my chest, and not the good kind where you have butterflies fluttering away in your digestive system, but the kind where you try and resist urge to regurgitate all the contents --or lack thereof--in your stomach. No not butterflies, I don't get that luxury, instead that feeling in my stomach is a direct consequence of the moths wreaking havoc in my body. I've even named those that I just couldn't shake.