Losses

This was a week full of losses: of a game, of control, of parts of life. It has been the hardest week for me since I've been here, and one of the hardest that I've ever endured in my life. From this week of loss however I will continue all the stronger, and learn what I can from the mistakes that led to its circumstances. Although it was a difficult week, silver linings abound, if I keep my eyes open and focused on the right things.

This was a slow week. It feels like the trip to Amsterdam was ages ago, and I can tell now even only two weeks removed that the trip will be a major mark on my stay here, not only in terms of experience, but in how I comprehend the passage of time.  I already use it as a marker: I think of the experiences that I have had as being either BA or PA (Before Amsterdam or Post Amsterdam).  Of course I mean this only figuratively, but the truth is close enough to the device that maybe I should consider actually utilizing these labels in my thoughts.

Since this weekend was a home game, we had another day of publicity in the city during the week.  Mitch, Steve, Strahinja and I along with some of our teammates that could be there on short notice walked around in uniform with some of the cheerleaders and employees of one of our sponsors, a bank, and handed out flyers that included reduced prices at both the game and one of the local cinemas. We each received a voucher for a free movie at the same place. I'm hoping that they show some films in English, which they might, so that I can go see Man of Steel or something of the like.  It's odd: for so long in my life summer meant going to see the summer movies with Jordan and Cody and Wilber and Steve on $5 Movie Mondays, yet I can't tell you the last movie I saw in theaters, or predict the next time I'll see one. The Hobbit, I think, was the last? Funny how things change as you get older.

Lucky for us a photographer followed us the whole time...so many action shots

This day in the city was much different than the first publicity day we did three weeks ago: it was sunny and hot out, it was on a weekday rather than a Saturday, and there were only a handful of us, rather than the whole team. People weren't as inclined to approach us, although some did. To attract attention, after walking for a bit we'd stop and play catch in the middle of a square or open space. I was worried we'd hit someone in the head, but hey...we are professionals. I'd like to think that we drummed up some interest in Saturday's game, and overall it was a nice way to kill an afternoon.

 Just some catch in the square

Steve undoubtedly being turned down, for the thousandth time. Poor guy.

Saturday came sooner than I could've imagined.  It was a quick turnaround from playing the best team in the league the week before to the second best team in the league this week.  Practices weren't always the easiest experience this past week; it's tough to field a full team at practice on any given day with everyone's injuries and obligations, but this week was particularly difficult.  Still, we worked as hard as we could to prepare for Troisdorf, short-handed as we were.

The game began well enough, trading scores back and forth to begin. The weather wasn't great, which I think had an effect on the size of the crowd, so the atmosphere wasn't quite the same as it was for our other home game. I felt great, however. In the Bielefeld game the week before, it took my far too long to find my legs. I felt ineffective at the start and stiff until at the very earliest the second half. This week I felt much better. I was running well, catching well, feeling like I could do anything. Film showed later that I missed a huge hole for what would've been an easy touchdown, but I still felt good. We were moving the ball well against Troisdorf, and I was ready to make a major impact on the game. 

Two great plays where I felt like myself again: TD, called back on a hold, and the aftermath of a corner getting trucked on the sideline.

And then the losses started. First, we lost my fellow running back Harlem to what looked like a dislocated shoulder after he was crushed on a draw . Thankfully that's not the case.  We'll see what his MRI says. Then me. I remember the play, thank God. It was a jet sweep, about ten yards down the field and I, in football parlance, "got my bell rung." From what I recall, it was a clean hit, but I'm not sure. If the game were to have been played in the U.S., Troisdorf would have been called for more than a few personal fouls for leading with the head and spearing. I don't think they meant to play dirty, but what happened happened. Either way, I popped right back up, as is my wont, finished out the drive and then pulled myself out of the game when I couldn't see out of my right eye because of tunnel vision and spots.

 I don't know if this is from that play, but thanks for the help guys.

Thus began the horrible wait. I hoped for the symptoms of the c-word in my vision to recede before halftime, but they didn't. I took a concussion test with our substitute trainer and failed it. Personally, I don't put much stock in how I was examined. I'd like to think that I was being cautious and depend on what other people said, not the result of that particular test. Either way, I pulled myself from the game, unspatted my cleats, took off my shoulderpads, and hid my helmet in the locker room. I didn't want to deal with the ramifications of having it in plain sight. 

I have had two concussions that I know of, and, due to their nature, I cannot describe to you how it felt to experience them. I don't remember. I can recall more from my first, my freshman year at Kenyon; I remember up to the point of contact. I can tell you the play I received it, on a kickoff at Wabash, when a wedge of three players broke upon me like a tidal wave and I was knocked head over heels in front of their sideline, much to their excitement. As the game progressed I lost control of my mental faculties and memory along with it. I recovered by the time we got on the bus, however, and was good to attend classes and play within a week. My second concussion, however, was much different. I can only report to you things I learned from my teammates, because I don't remember anything about that day from this past fall in St. Louis. Not what the stadium looked like or how warming up went, let alone the play that I received the jarring blow.  All memory is completely erased, as if I were never there. I've seen it on film, but that's the extent of it. I didn't recover completely from that for almost a full week, which was thankfully our bye, and I was useless for anything more than laying on a couch in my apartment and watching TV for three or four days.

Needless to say, on Saturday I was concerned. That is one of the worst things I've experienced, the mental side of it, sitting and wondering if I actually had received a concussion or not. There is no worse feeling than not knowing whether or not the next moment will be the one that you lose your ability to function, your memory of the last few hours, the ability to control your actions and emotions. I wonder if I have undergone this mental wrestling twice before, or if the process was cleaner, quicker. I don't remember well enough to know. Thankfully, that moment never came, and by the time the fourth quarter came around my symptoms had passed.   

After the game. A close loss, 35-44. Statline in 2 quarters: 9 rushes for 39 yards, 5 receptions for 64 yards. Could've been much better.

After the game my sister (we might as well drop the 'host' formality at this point, this is my family here) Anke took me to the hospital, and, after a bit of a wait, a doctor cleared me of any c-word worries in under two minutes. Thank God. No concussion. I was under observation by myself and the family for 24 hours afterwards, but no symptoms came back. I'm sure some of you are reading this and scratching your head wondering why I continue to play football even with this specter looming over me. To answer you quickly: Yes, I am a tad crazy; No, I don't have a deathwish, I'm totally aware of the media firestorm that has enveloped concussions and football recently; Yes, I'm going to continue playing, with prudence and good judgment; No, my mental function has not been nearly so affected as before. I was scared, but that's the extent of it. I'm fine. Thank you, everyone, for your concern.

As for the last loss all I have to say is 1 Corinthians 13. That's the verse on my most recent tattoo, my claddagh, and one of the most important statements in the world no matter your faith or lack thereof. Look it up if you're interested.

This weekend we'll be playing statistically the worst team in the league, but we need to be wary. We're planning on taking the smallest team I've ever played with, so we'll see what happens. I look forward to preparing as I would for any other game. Aside from that, I've been reading and writing as much as I can. I hope to finish the first of many parts of my writing project before the week is out. I think I can. Like I've said before, so many times since I've been here: just have to keep moving forward.