Mastering the sport much more than man and ball

I have a new found respect for golfers this week.

After a soccer ball jammed against my tiniest, most useless finger on Sunday morning during an otherwise routine victory for the NY Shamrocks over Doxa (I’ve gotten used to the names of the soccer clubs over so it’s better that you do too), I quickly succumbed to that world-weary feeling of “this is going to be less about pain and more about inconvenience”.

That’s the feeling which defines pointless little injuries, the low grade ones which make the grind all the more tedious. There’s nothing like a broken pinky to remind you what life would be like without it. Typing is a little slower, eating is a little harder and I’m now up to nine separate innocuous brushes with a solid surface or falling handset that would normally be unnoticeable but suddenly bring a tear to the eye.