Basketball Diaries

Midway along the journey of our life
I woke to find myself in a dark wood,
for I had wandered off from the straight path.

I've had ankle problems for years. I've sprained my right ankle so many times I just got used to lacing them tighter and worrying about it later. That worked until about two years ago when I broke my ankle then sprained it so bad a few months later that I thought I'd stick my hand down there and feel bone. As they say, sprains are worse than breaks. Ankle problems I can accept because I grew up with them, and always the same way: landing on someone else's foot underneath the basket. So I thought I'd get clever and buy myself a brace I could wear all the time on my ankle. It works great and I haven't had a sprain since.

Then today, right in the middle of a lazy game of two on two, I felt something new. I felt the inner side of my right leg twinge from a few inches below to a few inches above the knee. Now that's not right. I've never had trouble with my knees, never. But there it was, everytime I stepped, a little shock reminding me of the time I'd seen another guy's knee go. This guy wasn't doing anything, really, just standing on the perimeter dribbling and walking slowly looking to pass, and he just buckled. He went down on the floor and lay there until a few other guys carried him to the sidelines and the game continued. Later on I found out that it happened to him almost once a year, but he kept on playing.

And I kept on playing, feeling the jabs streak across my knee, stepping slowly instead of cutting hard. I didn't chase down rebounds or challenge shots, but I kept playing for that game and two more games because I didn't want to quit playing. And I certainly didn't want to admit that my body was betraying me in a new way, a way I hadn't suspected or even imagined before today. My ankles I can stand, but not my knees. Not my knees.