Why I Don't Do Sports Vol. II
So after my debacle in primary school involving football and my lack of knowledge to the rules of the game, I don't recall playing any type of sports for a while, until I got to secondary school at least. There I decided I would try my hand at Cricket Club, (I have no idea why). So I signed myself up and attended the first session with anticipation.
I don't remember the session all that much, probably due to my lack of interest in the sport itself and doubled with the fact I terrible at sports! I do remember the innate fear of a solid ball being hurled at speeds of over 30mph at me, however.
It's not so much what happened during this session though but more about my journey home that is the basis for this regaling.
I only lived a short 15 minute bike ride from my school at the time and so used to cycle there and back daily. My school life in year 7 wasn't a particularly pleasant time and the only reason I had chosen this particular school was because my friends had. When we started though, those I thought were my friends had suddenly become the ones I would avoid during break times or even en route to the next class. Bullying comes in many different forms and none are to be looked upon as lesser than any other. My torment exposed itself as mental bullying rather than physical at first. Being snubbed from friendship groups, being teased for being more creative than sporty and not joining in with football games during lunch. It's difficult to be different at that age and it's difficult to be yourself. Especially when you're still trying to figure out who that actually is. I had a few mates in the forms of some ragtag misfits who were also discovering themselves and not conforming to the stereotypical sheep herds of 'jocks' that seemed to rule the playground at that time. So I guess my joining the cricket club was a way to try and fit in. It didn't work and quite frankly the game bores the hell out of me to this day.
Back to the story at hand, I was on my way home from school one day after my first, (and last), cricket club session. Cycling through housing estates and back alleys, avoiding the main road. I occasionally thought I was cool by putting my helmet on my handlebars and not on my head but today I decided to wear it. Luckily.
I turned a familiar corner only two minutes away from my house, just as my backpack started to slip off my shoulders. I nudged my bag back into its position but as I did so, I caught the handlebars at the same time. My wheel span to the right at a 90 degree angle and I fell forwards, face first, onto a stone wall. Not just a brick wall, which might have been mildly better, but a stone wall. One that was adorned with huge boulder type stones atop that were jagged and naturally rough, maybe to stop people from sitting on it or just as decoration. Either way, I crunched face first into a stone. Ouch.
My vision crossed and I maybe blacked out for a split second. Luckily, I had just passed a woman and her son walking in the opposite direction. They must have either heard me crash or heard the whimper I had made when I panicked at the fact I couldn't see straight and that there was definitely blood somewhere. She doubled back and picked me off the floor. She asked how far I had to get home and if she could call someone to pick me up. By this time, my vision had returned to normal and I was able to walk, albeit with a slight limp from the graze on my knee. After explains that I literally lived down the road, she very kindly helped me walk back to my house and saw that I was returned safely. Even though it was a good 5 minutes out of her way, made longer by the fact I was hobbling in pain, her kindness meant I was home and ok. I never got her name but I remember appealing in the local paper as to her identity so I could say thank you. I never heard from her again. Not all superheroes wear capes, though she was wearing a shawl...
After a brief clean up from my Mum, we decided a trip to A&E was probably necessary.
I was seen swiftly and given X-Rays to the right side of my face which had taken the full brunt of the rock. Turns out I had pierced my bottom lip with my front tooth and it had gone right through. The tooth hadn't fallen out but had sustained some damage and it was too early to tell how much. My nose was fractured and so was my right eye socket. Nothing major but I did have a black eye, a fat lip and slight road rash to my cheek. Nothing a bit of paracetamol and ibuprofen couldn't fix with some sleep. I hadn't sustained a concussion or received any head damage due to the fact I was actually wearing my helmet!
Turns out a few years later, I needed braces on my top set of teeth. This was fine and normal for a boy my age. However, when it came to taking them off, finally, was when we had issues. You see, by hammering my tooth through my lip and subsequently into the stone wall, I had effectively killed it. It had died at the nerve and started to go black. The dentist had tried to save it with a root canal filling but this wasn't enough. While removing the braces, the tooth came with. We had anticipated this so it wasn't much of a biggie. The problem now was that I had no tooth until they could fit a false one, so I went to college for a week without my front right tooth, I looked like Jed Clampett!
Once they had fitted the tooth, a porcelain front with a gold back, the most realistic looking tooth that wouldn't break the bank I was told, I was back to smiling like my old self and could be proud of my new straight and complete teeth.
A few years on again though and my false tooth started to go grey around the gum...
It transpired that when I had my root canal, a gap was left in the filling that had now gotten infected and needed to be removed. The operation was quite fascinating with the surgeon needing to cut the Maxillery Frenum, (the bit of skin attaching the gum to your top lip. #ScienceBitch), in order to gain better access to my gums above the infected tooth.
Then he cut a flap into my gum above the offending tooth and lifted to reveal the bone beneath. This was then cut into in a square akin to removing a brick from a wall to allow them to get into the chamber above my tooth, clear out the infection, repack the filling and close it all up.
Weird fact, as a result of the skin flap being snipped, I can now lift my upper lip just above my nose. You're welcome and I know you'll sleep better for knowing that.
What's this got to do with sport I hear you ask? Well, Sir/Madame, (delete where appropriate), if I had not been to Cricket Club, I never would have been cycling home at that exact time and the event may never have even happened. So in conclusion, that's another reason why I don't do sports.
Stupid Cricket...
Thanks for reading!
Matt.
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