Friday, October 3, 2008 is a date I’m going to remember for quite some time. It’s certainly not as significant as some dates that would soon follow (more on that later), but I remember it simply because it was the last day of the last full-time, paid, and with-benefits week of employment I (so far) have ever had.
Of course, I didn’t know it at the time. That’s the funny thing about life-changing events, you almost never know they’re happening when they happen, but you sure as hell know about it later. For example, within two weeks of Friday, October 3, 2008, my son James was conceived.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
On Saturday, October 4th, I rode my motorcycle from Burbank, California down to San Diego. A buddy of mine from back in Ohio was in San Diego with his father, who was a member of a World War II military unit that was having a reunion. I joined up with the two of them, and later that night Roddey (my buddy) and I watched the much-heralded freshman quarterback Terrelle Pryor eke out a last-minute victory for Ohio State against Wisconsin. On Sunday, October 5th, I stopped by to visit a cousin who lived near San Diego, and then I headed back up to Burbank to play in the last co-ed Sunday softball game I would ever play in.
Like I said, I didn’t know it at the time. It’s not like you’re graduating high school, where you know this is the last time you’re ever going to eat in that cafeteria. In fact, as I stood on first base with my teammate at the plate, my team behind by two runs but rallying nicely, thank you very much, I had no clue what lay in store for me some 45 feet away.
My teammate hit a shot to shallow left. I bolted to second. The opposing team’s left fielder, who had been playing close in to the diamond, fielded the ball cleanly and got off a throw to the second baseman. I knew the play was going to be close, so I opted to slide.
A few seconds later I was writhing in agony, my left foot flopping uselessly off of my leg.
To be continued...
