sl.blog

Cue the hamstrings; I’ll get this quickly off my chest. It poured down during practice last night. Rained like a son of a gun. When your hammy hurts, a well-timed thunder and lightening shower can be like manna from heaven. But we played through the storm, leaving me undelivered from the relatively light walkthrough.

But at my age, standing on muscles made of Rice Krispies Treats (just waiting for that snap, crackle, and pop) even a night without pads can prove dangerous. I put my legs through their paces, knowing I run like a man just released from a walker by some backwoods preacher at a tent revival meeting. It stinks, too, because in my youth I had a dash of speed. I was white lightening in the early ’80s—not a real nickname, just a vision I had of myself in private times. Of course, a lot of my teammates hadn’t even spilled out of their papas’ trousers in the early ’80s. 

Today, I tucked myself sideways into my tiny car, thinking only of hitting the black market for an old-fashioned Brett Favre painkiller cocktail. My ass feels weighted with anvils and Advil ain’t cutting it. Who among you, friends, has had a recent root canal? Let’s make a deal. Tonight: hydration, a novena, and peanut butter and banana sandwiches; I don’t think the King ever pulled up lame.

But it’s been a bit of a rough preseason for the Lions. Players made of far sturdier stuff than I are walking around without helmets on. Player/coaches, forehead-bleeding linebackers, and veteran running backs have all been hampered or temporarily shelved with everything from outrageous blood numbers to torn ligaments and muscles to various gridiron strains. Even from my insider/outsider perspective, I know that the sideline designation is killing these guys. The guys who’ve played for years, who’ve rehabbed from serious injuries, who’ve made deals with wives for one or two more seasons. Football is a game I can, and probably should be, living without, but I suspect the pain of not playing is pretty big for these Lions.

Tomorrow brings the Michiana Titans to town for the home opener. We could sure use your support. And don’t forget it’s “Pirate Night” at the old ball field. Come all gussied up as Blackbeard or any other swashbuckler and the ticket folks will let you in for five bucks. Put an eye patch or hook on your buckaroos under 12, and they’ll get in absolutely free. Lions roar at 7:30.