Peak

Ch. 5: Knocked-Off

The next moment I was aware of my surroundings, I was writhing on the ground with a ripping sensation in my right shin, and the ball was out of my hands. My mind was yet again blank, and my only thought was something's not right. I knew for a fact I wouldn't be able to finish the game.

The pain hit most when I noticed Coach, some staff members, and the paramedics jogging over to me. Even if I was able to, I was deathly afraid to move and look at my leg, so I lay on the ground with a horrible feeling in my gut, a lump in my throat, and what felt like a railroad spike in my shin.

I was asked your typical questions like "Where does it hurt?" and "Can you move it?". I told them it was my leg and that I definitely cannot move it, let alone bear weight on it. They asked other questions similar that I absentmindedly answered, too zoned out to remember what they were.

I remember thinking why this happened, what went wrong. I caught the ball, didn't I? I've been tackled before, so why did this happen now? Why me, now, when the season was going great and I had my chance.

As soon as my helmet was taken off I saw my parents holding each other. My mom's eyes were welling up and my dad looked ashamed. I was never good enough for him before, now I won't even have my chance to change that.

No, I thought to myself, this can be fixed. I can be back for the playoffs.

I think what killed me most wasn't seeing my dad's disappointed expression, but in fact everyone else. Seeing Coach's head dipped, the entire team down on one knee, the student section sitting down, and every single face in the crowd. I've let them down over something I had no control over, and there's nothing I can do about it.

While scanning the stands, my eyes trailed back to the face I saw earlier, only this time I was able to recognize him.

Atop the stands leaning against the wall stood former halfback prodigy Jimmy Adkins, arms crossed and looking down at me, literally and metaphorically.

It's crazy when you think about everything that can happen in a year. A year ago, we were best friends, I was a benchwarmer, and Jimmy was the one lying down on the field. But the biggest difference had to be the fact that he wasn't next to me to have the opportunity to lie to me like I did to him. Instead, he was walking away shaking his head.

I finally was able to fully comprehend what happened when I was lying in the hospital bed awaiting the x-ray. The sound of the entire stadium clapping as I was carried off the field on a stretcher still rang in my head. Why did they clap? There's nothing great about getting hurt.

My shoulder pads and jersey were taken off in the ambulance. When we arrived at the hospital and after about forty minutes of paperwork, I had my leg x-rayed; which hurt like hell given the fact they had to move it.

Even with the splint covering the majority of my leg, I could see the side of it swollen up tinted a purple color. I was second-guessing whether or not I could be back in time when my parents walked in.

"Sam!" My mom exclaimed teary-eyed rushing up to me and kissed me on the forehead. "Are you okay?"

"Well if I was okay, I wouldn't be here so..." My mom forced a smile. She turned to my dad and gave a gesturing nod towards me.

"Oh, how're you feelin'?" I shrugged. He still wore a stony exterior. I didn't understand why this would upset him, I don't think he ever genuinely enjoyed watching me play in the first place. He seemed to have just enjoyed looking for mistakes to bitch about later.

"We grabbed your stuff out of the locker room before we left." My mom said handing me it. I thanked her and immediately went for my phone to find out the outcome of the game.

Before I even had the chance to look up the scores, I was greeted by a hoard of texts:

Antoine: Hope everything's alright Shoes, you'll be back before ya know it

Derek: We got your back man, prayin for you

Eli: Keep your head up dude, text back as soon as you can

Aubrey: Hope you're okay baby!! I'll be over to see you tomorrow... I love you <3

Matt: You played a hell of a game tonight Sam just thought you should know that. Hope all is well

There were countless others similar to that from other guys on the team and people I know at school. To be honest, reading them lifted my spirits a bit. I hit reply all and began typing: Thanks everyone, I really appreciate it. I'll be back soon tr

I was halfway through the sentence when the doctor walked in.

"Sam Delmont? I'm Doctor Reiden. How are you son?" He asked as I shook his hand.

"I've been better." I replied looking down.

"I'll save you the anticipation and just be forward with you." Doctor Reiden continued, pinning the x-ray against the light. I felt my heart beat faster as he began to speak, "Well, what we're looking at is a displaced fracture of the tibia and hairline fracture of the fibula. The deal is your tibia is not properly lined up, and given you are active, surgery is necessary for a full recovery. That's as simple as I can put it."

Everything around me seemed to blur together and fade to white when I heard the word surgery. I had a sick feeling like I was going to throw up, but at the same time I knew I wouldn't. I realized my mom's hand resting on my shoulder.

"What's the healing time for this?" She asked in a hushed voice.

"I'd say anywhere between four and six months, but we can never be sure. Then of course, physical therapy will come into play, but I suggest we take this one step at a time."

I could tell my eyes were blank and face was pale. The doctor apologized, but it wasn't his fault. This was no one's fault, yet I still had to deal with it.

Doctor Reiden discussed and explained the procedure about how apparently rods and screws will be present in my leg, so that's lovely. He told me that given the emergency, I could have it done tomorrow morning but need to stay overnight, so sleeping in a constant reminder of my predicament is great as well. Oh, and weight bearing is forbidden for a few days after, so being a cripple temporarily is just the cherry on top.

When the doctor left, my mom kneeled down by the bed.

"Listen Samuel, I know it'll be hard not playing football for a while but we'll get through these next few months. You have your father and I, Tyler, Aubrey, and all your friends, okay?" She kissed me on the back of the hand.

"Thanks, mom, but I'd really like to be alone right now if you don't mind." She lightly nodded her head and began to walk out while my dad got up, patted my shoulder, and followed after her.

Though I was basically and indirectly told I would be out for the season, something inside of me was still convincing my head that it's not the end, that I would somehow be back. But even the thought of not playing for more than a week was tantalizing. Everything I had worked for was gone in an instant, but I guess that's the risk football players take.

With a knot in my chest, I pulled out my phone. Before I replied to everyone, I still was anxious to know the final score. Honestly, a part of me didn't want to know just to spare me the disappointment; and yet, I still proceeded. I think the only sight worse than my leg in a splint and a gap between bones on my x-ray was the screen glaring Brigfield- 31 Eastside- 7. My blood ran cold. I let my team down, simple as that.

I went back to the text I was about to send and backspaced the last few words: Thanks everyone, I really appreciate it

I most certainly would not be back anytime soon.