April Fool's Poem

I wrote this poem as a class assignment in high school. I was a junior and at that point in time, only had head injuries in my life. My knee was not an issue. As you can see in this poem, it is a very creepy foreshadowing of my life in the future. Ironically enough, I had my first knee surgery the following year and broke my ankle in college. This was the last time I wrote a poem about future injuries :)

Written: May 15th, 2000

We were playing Mercer Island, and Newport softball was winning.
I was on third in the bottom of the inning.

The score was tied and the ball was in play.
I ran to home plate but a catcher was in the way.

I decided to slide as the ball was thrown.
My ankle went first and I heard a crack in my bone.

I rolled on the ground screaming in pain.
The trainer came out, it was only a sprain.

I sat on the bench as the game was played.
We ended up winning because of the score I made.

The next day was April Fool’s a perfect time of year.
“I’m off to the hospital” I told my coach with a tear.

I actually went home and laid in my bed.
My coach called later and this is what I said…

“My ankle is broken and surgery is Monday
I’m out for 8 months so no longer can I play.”

The paper called him later that night,
Wondering what happened and if I was all right.


He told the journalist what I had told him.
So the paper had a story for a writer named Tim.

Little did they know that I was teasin’,
The next morning the paper read, “Knights win game, lose Wood for season.”

Now everyone thought that I was done.
But it was just a sprain, I was simply having fun.

April Fool’s jokes are done for me.
But wait, maybe next year I’ll hurt my knee?

NCAA Final Four

A note given to my team, from me. I had a broken ankle so could not play. We won 4-0 and played in the National Championship two days later...

Since I can't play all I have are my words to contribute, so maybe this helps...this next game is everything you have worked so hard for. Everything you have sacrificed along the way comes down to this game. Each one of you has worked your asses off this entire year, along with years passed, and now is when you show that. You don't hold back and save anything for later...there may not be a later. So you run harder, fight tougher, and think faster. You are all so talented and I watch that everyday. I see you fight through things and push pass things better than any other team I have ever seen. So keep it up and fight to the next level. Use all your knowledge and strength to show the other team what they're up against. Most of the nation probably doesn't know what goes on out here in the Northwest but they're all about to see. So bring it on whoever you are, because we don't care. In the end it will come down to the team that has the most heart and desire to win it all...and that team is the one I watch everyday.

Inspiration

This was a note given to me by a friend...

"So I was thinking lately about passions. Sometimes, when you look at a person, or know them kind of well, you never really have a good idea about how passionate they are, even if you know they have a passion. Does that make sense? It’s obvious that people have passions, but you never really know until you talk to them that you see a little glimpse of how much they actually love what they’re doing. I’ve got an example..."

"Tara, my neighbor across the hall. I cannot even believe how much she loves to play soccer. She’ll go through any sort of pain and torment just to keep playing and getting the time in to do what she loves. Even if she’s in a horrible amount of pain, she’ll keep going and fight with it just to do what she loves to do. I can’t even believe the shit she has to go through just to get back on the field and to feel free and alive and a part of something so special. She’ll do anything for it- that’s raw passion for the game. It’s actually that raw passion- the fact that the person will do anything to experience, just one more time, the feeling of truth and beauty through what they’re doing."

"I can tell when Tara talks about being able to get to play again that her whole heart is devoted to being out on the field with her team mates and doing the thing she does the best. She gets excited talking about it and all pumped up and completely giddy."

First of Many

The only memory I have of the whole event was looking up and seeing my mom, my completely un-athletic mom, running as fast as she could toward me. Then it was all black from there. The next time I woke up, I was in the hospital totally confused and desperately wanting some Advil. As I laid in the emergency room I began to piece together all the events that led up to my terrible headache.

The Hornets was the first soccer team I ever played on. I started at the age of seven and I was still playing for them when my first real injury occurred. I said my “first” injury because it was far from the last. My beloved soccer coach of many years would later say “you spent your entire career throwing yourself in front of a bus” and that was no understatement. I had a way of always ending up on the wrong side of the battle. As a result, unfortunately I would get used to lying in a hospital bed, confused, and wanting some Advil. So to get back to where it all began, my “first” was when I played for the Hornets. I was ten years old and just finished playing in a routine soccer game. Who knows what the score was, or who we played, all I know is after the game my team was responsible for cleaning up the field. That usually involves picking up cones, gathering the soccer balls, and loading up the back of my coaches’ car. On this particular day however, we had one more task from the City of Bellevue. The parks department decided they wanted us to flip the goals after the game so that they were lying face down and could not be used. Now remember, this was a team of 10 year old girls selected to this task. It was a great idea from the start.

Once all the gear was gathered my coach rounded us all together and we headed for a goal. He explained we were to grab the bottom crossbar that was resting on the ground, lift it up, and then push the goal onto its face. Simple task, no excitement, and the day would soon be over. However, I decided I would use the opportunity to my advantage and do what I have always done best: completely terrify my mother. So I did what everyone else did, but instead of letting go and pushing, I decided to hang on. In my mind I thought I would simply get a free ride to the top, hang from what would soon be the top crossbar, then jump down with no problems. Unfortunately the plan did not go as I imagined and like I said, the only memory I have is of my mother sprinting toward me. From what I would learn later, the impact of the goal hitting the ground created such a force that my grip was loosened and I was thrown backwards. But I wasn’t just thrown down; I was tossed 20 feet in the air, did one and a half back flips, and landed directly onto the back of my head. I was lying there, unconscious until I woke up and saw my mom running. I remember smiling at the image but that was all because I would go back into my coma. Now it all begins to make sense of why I was in the desperate need of some Advil. And like I mentioned before, it would only be the “first” out of the countless unfortunate events that were to come.