Broomball: love or hate?

Unfortunately, I fall into the massive stereotype of young men that think they are invincible and incapable of injury. It is this flawless reasoning that convinced me to go play broomball to celebrate a friends birthday. For all of you that have not been introduced to this backwards sport, it is basically hockey without skates. You run around an ice rink in street shoes with a broom shaped plastic stick. At first it is pretty easy because the ice hasn’t hit that partially melted state, but right around the time you finally start to feel confident it instantly switches to a slip and slide.

In hindsight it was very unwise to play such a ridiculous sport, especially without medical insurance, especially when someone has been injured every time I’ve played the sport. I, however, clung to the history of my life that I always end up injuring someone else and rarely get injured myself. It was this reckless bravado that made me the only one willing to actually run on the ice, which I might add, resulted in a hat trick in the first 10 minutes. It was the same bravado, however, that made me the unlucky guinea pig for that precise moment when the ice finally begins to melt. My feet came out from under me creating a comic fall directly on my right shoulder causing my head to whip lash into the ice. All sound cut out except for a high pitched whistle. Finally the words came back to the tune of “Are you alright?!?”

Fifteen minutes later I realized I should have answered no, but instead of stopping the game again I went to the side to call my sister for some free medical advice, one of the many benefits of having a brainiac sister who just graduated from medical school. A couple of Aleve and some retina tests to make sure that I wouldn’t fall into a coma in the middle of the night because of a severe concussion. The next day I woke up to find that I no longer cared about my head because I could barely lift my arm and there was a strange lump on the top of my shoulder the size of an egg. Once, again the sister to the rescue. She walked me through how to do a shoulder exam to see if anything was broken, sprained, or torn. My room mate conducted the test and came up with the diagnosis of a sprained AC joint. Three to five weeks of an immobile shoulder and then some physical therapy.

I think I am going to have to vote for hate on my broomball ballot. At least until I have medical insurance again.


5 responses to “Broomball: love or hate?

  • Bobby

    “backwards sport”…that’s just great writing. hope you’re healed up in 3 weeks (not five) so you can take the grunt of Dan’s low post moves in 21 and not leave me alone to fend for myself in the paint. although when it comes to 21 for some reason, i tend to play the best ball of my life. never figured that one out. so then again, hope the shoulder doesn’t heal. Bring it on Danny Boy!

  • Don

    Before you ask, your post came up in a Google Alerts search for broomball.

    While I can sympathize with your injury (I sprained my ankle playing floor broomball last summer), I think it’s bad form to blame the sport because you fell on poorly maintained ice. Broomball is a ridiculously fun sport that scales pretty well to every skill level – witness the fact that it sure reads like you were enjoying yourself when you were lighting the lamp. But proper equipment makes the whole experience better. Actual broomball shoes probably would’ve saved your shoulder (you would’ve been less likely to slip, since the spongy soles provide some traction on slick ice), and common sense dictates that you should at least wear a helmet when moving around on the ice.

  • zdillon

    Well, in reply to Don, I surely never had any idea that there were official shoes for broomball. Maybe they should have shoe rentals like bowling alleys? A helmet would be smart, but than it would be less enjoyable to ‘accidentally’ bump into girls during the match. I think the risk of concussions is certainly worth it.

    In response to Bobby. The rebellious nature of my spirit just won’t allow my injury to get in the way of 21. Oh, and it is now my goal for you to loose even if I have to throw the game to Daniel the spaniel Clark.

  • Taido

    you get healed up. i don’t want any excuses when you go down in pingus pong next month.

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