Abel to Yzerman
by IwoCPO on 03/14/12 at 12:07 AM ET
I rammed my frigging knee into a nifty little ditty we call, interestingly, a “knee knocker.” The odd thing is that, traditionally, an actual knee knocker is the bottom part of a door frame on a ship that rises about six inches off the deck, causing you to step over it every time you walk through one of 19,000 water tight door frames on this Battle E winning warship. So, usually, if you’re gonna get hurt on a knee knocker it’s the ankle that bears the brunt of the pain.
And, oh we’ll be talking about an ankle in a minute.
But it was the knee that I hurt so badly. I blasted against the side of the door frame as I was stepping through and oh my frigging baby jesus you cynical, caustic, holy and so wise 8 pound keeper of my very soul. Real pain. Searing, sucking, strength-sapping pain. I didn’t go to medical because, like all Chiefs (and all men, really), I’m all about the self diagnosis.
Mine? My diagnosis? Yes. That. I could still walk and stretch and lift it with no additional pain. It was just a really painful blow to the kneecap. What it is, and I’m quite sure about this, is our new famous asspounder of an injury: it’s a deep bone bruise.
And here’s where it gets so very weird. I limped around whining like a, well, like a bitch. I complained to everyone who’d listen and since I’m a damn Master Chief I ordered anyone I could find to listen and listen well. It hurt. So bad. I figured, based on my recently acquired knowledge of deep bone bruises, that I’d be out of commission for a week. Two weeks. No more walking around with a cup of coffee, scolding people for my own enjoyment. No more standing on the fantail smoking cigars and definitely, absolutely zero climbing any ladders to go up a few decks should the need arise. Oh Hell no.
But the strangest thing happened when I woke up this morning. I could walk. It feels much, much better. Did it make me doubt the voracity of my diagnosis? Is it possible that my bone is bruised less deeply than I’d first thought? Surely, if a world class cyborg like Nick Lidstrom can miss a huge pocket of important games, than I’d be crippled by a similar injury. Am I actually in better condition than Nick Fuching Lidstrom?
Or is there another explanation?
I know a deep bone bruise because I have one. It hurts but I’m ready to push on. Ready, I tell you. I could work through the pain and I will.
And Nick Lidstrom can’t?
Bone bruise, eh? A deep one that’s kept him out ten games now? Is that it? 9 maybe? A deep bone bruise let him skate for a few minutes before getting off the ice in LA this morning? That kind of deep bone bruise?
Liars. Dirty, filthy professional liars is who and what they all are.
“Deep bone bruise”, my ass. And no that’s not a verb phrase before “my ass”, sickos.
Don’t be fooled my fake friends: If TPH were merely bruised to the bone deeply? He’d be in there. So go ahead and puke to the tune of that while we Live Blog, bitches.
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Welcome to Abel to Yzerman, a Red Wing blog since 1977. No other site on the internet has better-researched, fact-laden and better prepared discussions than A2Y. Re-phrase: we do little research, find facts and stats highly overrated and claim little to no preparation. There are 19 readers of A2Y. No more, no less. All of them, except maybe one, are juvenile in nature. Reminding them of that in the comment section will only encourage them to prove that. Your suggestions and critiques are welcome: firstname.lastname@example.org