A few faint elbow issues had been haunting me for some time, nothing that a good warm-up couldn’t overcome, I thought. When I changed rackets it got a little worse, but still after fifteen minutes of hitting I'd feel fine. That was then.
My first USTA match was 4.0 First Doubles with John J. back in April. The weather was cold and raw. Though the captain moved our match indoors, my elbow never warmed up. Every shot hurt.
The captain could see it on my face. He volunteered to sub for me before we spun rackets, but he was fresh off a serious (non-sports-related) surgical procedure, and I couldn’t allow him to do it. Besides, I’d never walked off a court in my sporting life due to injury — not that I could remember. I figured it would just take me a little longer to warm up today. I figured wrong.
Every shot sent a jarring pain through my arm, but by now the match had started. I tried borrowing John J.’s elbow brace, but that didn’t help and I shed it after awhile. I had to dial back my serve, using only my shoulder for impulsion, and at times I had to let some balls through at net because I couldn’t get my racket up in time.
It never got any better, but we managed to win. I iced the elbow and the shoulder, but the next day, driving to New York, I couldn’t lift my hand to my head. For a week I couldn’t turn a doorknob without wincing pain.
After treatment and rest, I’ve tried twice more to get out there, but to no avail. I’m on the DL at least through the end of June, then we’ll see again.
Most depressing of all, there’s nothing interesting to say, nothing interesting to write about any of this. It’s boring and frustrating at the same time. It’s that terrible place where possibility meets pain.
No comments:
Post a Comment