Standing in the shoes of Tony Gonzalez
I have always been amazed by the way professional football players can stand with their toes firmly planted in bounds, less than a centimeter from being out of bounds. They catch the ball and then fall, often on their faces, with their bodies completely straight, cradling the ball. They do not drop the ball. I don't quite understand how they train themselves to not take another step and avoid falling. I guess when you make a bazillion dollars staying in bounds, you figure it out. As a petite woman, I never thought I would have the chance to experience anything similar to this, and although it's a bummer I did have the opportunity, I guess it answered one of those questions that hang around in the back of my brain.
Two weeks ago Sunday, I was walking down the porch stairs headed to the library to get new books for Connor to drive the nanny crazy with in the upcoming week. I was in a hurry because I thought the library closed in a half hour. I scooped Connor up at the top of the stairs, and when I got to the bottom, I tripped. Only it wasn't one of those scuff your shoes and go on sort of trips, it was the real deal, falling in midair kind of trips. I realized immediately that I was not going to be able to stop the fall. I'm certain I called out for Ed - but he was at the top of the steps locking the door and had no shot to provide assistance. Instead, I fell. But somehow, as I lunged for the grass thinking that was the best place I could possibly fall (didn't quite make it), I managed to get my hand beneath Connor's head and twist my body, so that when we landed, both hands and knee got scraped up, my nose even got a tiny scratch, but other than being frightened, Connor was left unscathed. And, he wasn't even bothered that long because I guess falling down to him is so common, it probably doesn't seem all that bizarre that I would fall down too. Hopefully, the baby inside was also not jarred too much.
The only silver lining is that I think I now understand how football players do it. You don't think about minor issues affecting your own body, you just react.
Elaine
Two weeks ago Sunday, I was walking down the porch stairs headed to the library to get new books for Connor to drive the nanny crazy with in the upcoming week. I was in a hurry because I thought the library closed in a half hour. I scooped Connor up at the top of the stairs, and when I got to the bottom, I tripped. Only it wasn't one of those scuff your shoes and go on sort of trips, it was the real deal, falling in midair kind of trips. I realized immediately that I was not going to be able to stop the fall. I'm certain I called out for Ed - but he was at the top of the steps locking the door and had no shot to provide assistance. Instead, I fell. But somehow, as I lunged for the grass thinking that was the best place I could possibly fall (didn't quite make it), I managed to get my hand beneath Connor's head and twist my body, so that when we landed, both hands and knee got scraped up, my nose even got a tiny scratch, but other than being frightened, Connor was left unscathed. And, he wasn't even bothered that long because I guess falling down to him is so common, it probably doesn't seem all that bizarre that I would fall down too. Hopefully, the baby inside was also not jarred too much.
The only silver lining is that I think I now understand how football players do it. You don't think about minor issues affecting your own body, you just react.
Elaine
<< Home