The Only Thing That Matters

 There is a pivotal moment in everyone's life that helps to define them. This moment is remembered through; the emotions felt, the sounds heard, the smells that lingered, and of course some physical stimuli. In my case, the physical stimulus struck immediately and was devastating. Which was followed by erupting emotions, and little concern for the sounds and smells around me. At this moment I knew instantly, that all of those years of hard work leading up to this point were absolutely meaningless.

My dream as a child was to one day play a very simple game for the rest of my life. Almost every Sunday from the beginning of September to the middle of February, the only thing that mattered was football. Interestingly enough, even at the harshly abrupt ending of my journey to the big leagues, the same thing still mattered. Football. In this violent sport, the chances of someone becoming hurt or injured are at an all time high, regardless of the amount of equipment being worn to prevent those injuries from occurring. I didn't once think about, how my parents would react, how my coaches would handle the situation, or how I would be able to get around school the following day. Like I said, the only thing that mattered was football.

When I played football I had only one goal. That goal was to always do my job and have fun doing it. I would do my usual preparations before game time. Shoulder pads strapped up, ready to go, no later than 30 minutes before warm ups. I then proceeded to try my helmet on 5 times, to insure that, I needed no air in my helmet, both ear pads were in place and also to tighten my chin strap, comfortably. I also loved looking around at all the fans herding in, both the home fans and away. The smell of dry dirt and grass being kicked up, the aroma of the concession stand, and also the not so friendly smell of dry embedded sweat from other players equipment occupied the air. The paring of the orange and purple sky and the dim lights attempting to shine down on the 60% dirt and 40 % grass field was a more than mesmerizing sight. Whistles, cow bells, the crowds chatter, and the laughter of children filled the entire area.

I remember these things because at that moment the sights, sounds and smells were a luxury. Everything that followed was on the absolute opposite end of the spectrum. Halfway through a normal game, I felt like I had always felt, tired, thirsty, hungry, and pissed off. Being punched in the ribs, jamming my fingers, and being stepped on were the norm. We set up at the line of scrimmage, make our calls, point out our responsibilities, and then hike the ball. At this point I cannot truly and accurately recollect the proceeding actions of the athletes around me. The only known association I have with my injury was excruciating pain. The pain I felt was comparable with rolling your ankle, but the pain lingers and burns for several days. I had suffered a complete Medial Collateral Ligament (MCL) tear, and a partial Patellar tendon tear. I do remember laying on the ground just looking up at the murky and cloudy sky. For a second, I had no thoughts what so ever. It was hard for me to talk to my coaches for some odd reason. I suppose that I was in shock.

I claim that this whole event as my pivotal moment. From that point on, I struggled to play the game I loved. This game that gave me my identity was some how taken away from me. There was no way that I could control the situation, no matter how many times I mentally re-lived it. Even though my pivotal moment altered my course in life, it doesn't mean that my perspective or expectations have truly changed. In my eyes the only thing that still matters is football.