Monologue

I was never the biggest, or the strongest, but I loved the game. I remember, as a kid that was all me and my friends wouuld do. Literally until we couldnt see the ball anymore in the dark. One morning when i was 13, we were playing at a park near my house. It was cold, the dirt was hardened and the ball stung our hands with each reception. It was fourth down and  a long way to go. Ryan imitated Peyton Manning as he yelled HIKE and dropped back to pass. I ran a post route, made my cut, I was wide open. I made the catch with ease. Then I looked up, one man to beat, it was Danny. He was always picked first, he was fast, and strong, and he was heading right at me. I charged full steam ahead, “I got this, I’ll duck right through him.” Unfortuantely, I tripped up and fell straight foreward. The pop was so loud my ear was ringing, his knee had dislocated my shoulder and I was stunned. I sat there shaking, white from fear, in total shock, the pain was immense. I didn’t say a word until the ambulence got there. The EMTs popped my shoulder back with a dirty trick, they pretended they would do it on the count of three. On “two” they wrenched it back into place, i thought i would put my fingers straight through my palm from the fist i was making.  After a few tense minutes of silence on our way to St. Vincent’s Hospital I opened my mouth to speak for the first time since the POP, and I asked, “when can i play again?’