Never Guard the 6'5" Behemoth....

...cause you'll inevitably get an elbow to the nose with the force of freight train going 1000 mph. Holy shit am I in pain.

So I go to the Rec today to play some basketball cause I've been neglecting my UT gym membership a bit the past few weeks. It's pretty quiet on the courts when I get there, so I just shoot around for a while, trying to find that magical Ray Allen like jump shot I had back in 8th grade. After a good 30 minutes, some people start showing up (unfortunately, said jump shot had not yet been found) and we get a game of 3-on-3 going. Game was alright...ended up losing...but I was starting to get in a good rhythm. By the end of the game, there were 2 other folks that wanted to play, so we manage to get some 4-on-4 full court action going. One of the new guys, though, was this 6'5 white guy who you could tell had played somewhere before; he was all fundamentally sound and trying to show off by jumping up and grabbing the rim a couple times for no apparent reason. I'm going to call him Keith Van Horn from here on out.
Well, we shoot for teams, and I end up being on the opposite side of this guy. My team starts deciding who to pick up on defense, and I, of course offer to pick up Van Horn. There was another guy on my team who was probably slightly taller than me, but he was really slow, so I let him match up with another fellow who of a similar build. I didn't really want to guard Van Horn, particulalry because that meant he would guard me, but I do because I feel the only to improve is to take on challenges like that. Guys taller than me that can play some D usually do a pretty good job of stifling my offense which usually consists of me hanging around the permiter trying to get the ball so I can try to hit a jump shot. I hate posting up, and most everyone who's played with me knows I couldn't hit a lay-up or a shot around the basket to save my life. And my perimeter tendencies increase exponentially when I'm guarded by someone I have no hope whatsoever of posting up against.
Anyway, things started off pretty well. First time down the court, I get the ball just outside the 3 point line, and drain a 3 right in Van Horn's face. That felt really good. They come back with the ball, dish it off to Van Horn in the low post (cause its pretty obvious I'm going to have a hell of a time trying to guard him), and he does some juke move that gets me pretty good, and lays it in for 2.
Fast-forward a bit and I believe the score was something like 9-6 (with my team up, yay). The other team is on a bit of a fast break and I'm with Van Horn every step of the way. He ends up with the ball down low, kind of shoving me down towards the basket, but there's nothing me and my scrawny build could do, but just take it. He tries again to do his little juke that got me earlier, but this time I don't bite. (Let me note here, that his elbows are basically at the equivalent height of my face any time he touches the ball.) Then, one of my teammates comes down to help, and kind of knocks the ball out of Van Horn's hands, though unable to force the turnover, and Van Horn quickly recovers the ball. The next moment is just a huge blur, as all I can remember is a huge, gigantic, enormous, monstrous, and even ginormous elbow is coming straight at my face, more specifically at my nose, and I take a BIG blow. I hear something, not sure if it's a snap, a crackle, or a pop, but I hear something. Immediately, I feel this terrible pain where my nose is supposed to be, and I cry out a huge "FUCK!" I put my hands to my nose, take them away, and see that they're covered in blood. I panic and run to the bathroom. I've never had anything that even resembled a nosebleed before (sure, I've been whacked in the nose a couple times, but nothing too hard or painful), so seeing all that blood on my hands and dripping onto my shoes really freaked me out.
Well, I'm in the bathroom wiping my nose nonstop with water, and it seems like the bleeding has finally stopped. I get my first real good look of my nose in the mirror, and I notice that the bridge about halfway down is basically curved to the left. Here comes another big "FUCK!" I seriously almost started to cry. I finish cleaning myself up in frenzy, go back to the court, grab my stuff, and hightail it to the ER. Some of the guys come over to see if I'm OK, and I just reply with an emphatic "NO!". I appreciated the concern, but I'm in such pain and actually really pissed off. All I really wanted was to brawl with the Van Horn douchebag who I can't even look at as I'm leaving. He give me a pretty lame "sorry, man" as I'm heading out the door, and that's that.. (Note: I totally know it wasn't intentional and its all part of the game, but I must say he had been a little careless with those elbows throughout the game, and you would have had the same death wishes if someone just whacked your normally straight (and sexy) nose into some strange deformed curve).
I went to the hospital, saw the doctor for about 30 seconds, and gained absolutely nothing except a phone number for an ear, nose, and throat doctor. The guy said there was no point in taking an x-ray and that nothing could be done until the swelling went down. Well, tomorrow I'm giving this EN&T Dr. a buzz to get a real opinion. I'm sure he'll probably say the same thing, but I'll feel much better hearing it from someone qualified, than from some random ER doctor who's more worried about watching Alanis Morisette sing the national anthem before the Pistons-Spurs game. (Speaking of, does that make any sense to you? Alanis, a Canadian, singing the American National Anthem....hmmmm....).
But yeah, my nose looks deformed, and I can barely even look at myself in the mirror right now. It also hurts like a bitch, and the over-the-counter Tylenol I was "prescribed" isn't really doing the trick. God, I hope they can put my nose back in place with ease and there won't be anything like plastic surgery necessary. I was shaking the whole time while I was at the hospital; partly from the pain, but also partly because of the thought of this being permanent or the need for surgery. That really freaks me out.
All I know is, the next time I step on the basketball court (and that will be a good time from now), I'll be taking a fashion tip from one Mr. Richard "Rip" Hamilton...



...and I'm not even joking.



Currently Listening To:
Jimmy Eat World - Pain