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“You’re good, you’re good!” my teammate TJ Vonnie yelled down to me over the loud crowd. He was probably trying to convince both of us with his words, but we both knew I was not good at all.
Everyone was focused on the fight going on in front of the net between my team, the Detroit Crewmen, and the New Jersey Bandits. I hoped our enforcer, a Russian guy named Sergei, would take care of business for me. My brother-in-law, Griff, would’ve been the first one ripping a guy's head off for tripping me if he were here. That was probably why they were after me even more tonight though– they knew Griff was gone because his baby girl, my niece, was currently being born.
I think the shock of the hit was wearing off, because the pain was becoming unbearable by the second.
I turned over on my stomach and went up on all fours, then rested my helmet on the ice. My right foot was hurting like a motherfucker, and I was starting to feel like the whole rink was spinning around me…
TJ grabbed my arm to help me up, but I brushed him off.
“No. I’ll be fine. I just need a second,” I grunted out.
I was tripped while skating for a breakaway toward New Jersey’s net and my whole body slammed into the boards. Unfortunately, most of the impact went to my right foot. I’d be fine though. I’d survived way worse hits before, and at least my head didn’t hit first… That would’ve been really bad.
I screwed my eyes shut against the pain and tried to stand up on my own, but my right leg immediately gave out.
“Fuck!” I yelled out, feeling frustrated.
TJ immediately swooped in to help me stand and another teammate came over to help skate me back to our bench.
I ducked my head, trying to drown out the New Jersey crowd cheering over the fact that I’d probably be out for the rest of the second period, giving their team a chance to win the game– Iwasthe leading scorer this year after all– and both teams needed this win to move on to the Conference Championships. Hopefully my guys could keep the lead without me…
I sat in the locker room while our team doc accessed my foot. I grinded my teeth together in an effort to hold in the pain while he poked and prodded my ankle, which was starting to swell up to twice its normal size.
“It’s not looking good, son,” the old doctor said in a disappointed tone.
I bit back my desire to sayno shit.
He sighed and took off his glasses and began talking more, but I was having a hard time focusing on his words. My adrenaline and patience were starting to wear thin.
I blew out a breath, still not fully believing that I wasn’t going to be able to just pop some meds and head back out on the ice for the last period.
“Yeah, yeah,” I interrupted him. I was feeling a migraine coming on and I wanted to wrap up this little chat. “My sister’s across town at St. Johns having a baby right now, can I just go there?” I asked. Maybe I’d even get to see my niece. Holding a lil squish baby would probably be the only thing that could make me feel better.
Doc gave me a strange look then. A second later, he was holding my eye wide open and shining a light in it.
I immediately tried to squirm away from him.
“Do you know where you are, son?”
“De-” I cut myself off. We were all taught to hold our tongues and take an extra second before answering to make sure we were correct because no one wanted to be put on concussion protocol, even when it was called for.
I swallowed, hoping Doc hadn’t already heard me. “We’re in Jersey, duh,” I answered, but my voice sounded strained even to my own ears. Because the truth was, I was starting to feel super disoriented. Wewerein Jersey… right? I tried to think back to how I got here…
“Roger,” Doc called over his shoulder, “get me a replay of what happened. Did he hit his head too?”
Roger, one of the team athletic trainers, snorted. I shook my head at him to shut it, then immediately regretted it when a wave of nausea hit.
I moaned loudly and held my head.
Doc shoved a trash can at my gut.
“He hit his whole body. Foot slammed in first, then the rest of him. He’s the fastest guy we’ve got, which probably wasn’t a good thing for the first time in his life,” Roger said. “Looked like he splatted against a brick wall. I was worried his whole right side would be fucked– no offense.” He glanced at me uneasily before looking back at Doc. “I’ll get the replay if you still need it though.”
Doc squinted at me again, studying my eyes, and I held my breath.
“Looks like a concussion. We’ll have to watch that. You know the drill, right?” he asked Roger.
Roger sighed. There was no way he wanted to babysit me and keep waking me up every couple of hours to complete concussion protocol. “Yes, sir,” he answered.
