the Unexpressed Advantage

Deep in my closet in the back of my room is a small yellow shoebox. In the yellow shoebox are a few items and knick-knacks, including a nine year old Ace bandage about three inches wide. I’ve had this ace bandage since the 2nd semester of my first year in college. And it has been with me ever since. I don’t think about it from day to day, only on the rare but somehow repetitive occasion that I sprain my ankle. Today is one of those days. As I sit here, having just found my faithful Ace – Each time I wonder if it will still be there, it always is – and begin to wrap my ankle, I can’t help but wonder I this is some sort of heavenly punishment for my arrogant(ish) ranting from last week’s game. Tonight’s game was not nearly as good. I couldn’t seem to get the ball in the basket to save my life. I also made a couple of crucial errors that were not good for the overall result – we lost. To top it off during the last play of the game I went for a loose ball and in the process rolled my ankle, immediately afterward screaming like a banshee at the pain but more at the anger. It’s inevitable, between volleyball and basketball I’m bound to sprain my ankle, but it hasn’t happened for a few years, so I was especially angry tonight. At least it was the last game.