Chapter 21 – Tommy
I’m fucked, I think as the van hits a bump on the road on the way to the hospital.
One dickhead that couldn’t guard me decides to hit me with the most flagrant of fouls, and my career is over. If my ankle is broken, and I need surgery, then that’s that.
I heard of a guy who played for UCONN back when I was in middle school. I think his name was Pete Jenkinson, and he injured his ankle. Bad break and ended up tearing a tendon in the process. He had surgery and was back playing the next year, but he was never the same.
His jump was off, he wasn’t as quick on his feet, and when you play forward, that’s pretty damn important. The fans rallied behind him, as did the coach and his whole team, but he was over. The whole season was a wash – an embarrassment. And he knew it. You could just see it in his face when he was on the court. He knew it was done, yet he went out there and gave it his best. But it wasn’t enough.
And as we make our way across town to the hospital, that’s all I can think about. It’s the only image in my mind: Pete McMann’s face, that first game back after his surgery, as he realized his game was never going to be the same.
I’m Tommy Mason. Who am I if I’m not the star of the team? If I’m not that college ballplayer on his way to the pros, then I don’t know the answer to that question. My hands clench into fists, my fingernails dig into my palm as I try not to focus on the throbbing pain coursing up my calf from my ankle. The ice packs wrapped around the joint feel like they’re barely doing anything.
My whole life is the team. My friends are on the team. The girls like me because I’m the star of the team. My entire future is the game of basketball. What will Grace think of me?
Here I am, this basketball stud, big man on campus – I meet her, we hit it off, she comes to my game, and then I get fucking injured and I’m out? What’s she going to think?
Right now, I’d trade all the money I’d make in the pros, all the cars, the houses, the TV appearances and interviews – I’d trade all that away to make sure Grace still likes me when all this is over. It’s all I can think about.
She was so sweet to me while I was lying there in the locker room, back to the bench, feeling like my entire world had just shattered in front of me. That’s the kind of girl you can bring with you through the rest of your life. None of the bimbos I’ve been with would ever know what the fuck to say at a time like that.
And what if she’s wrong? What if my ankle is broken? What if I’ve torn a tendon and need surgery? What if it’s even worse? I’ve had sprains before when I was young, and this doesn’t feel like that. Sometimes sprains can be even worse than a simple break and take a longer time to recover. There’s just no way to know.
“You’ll be all right, buddy,” Joey says from beside me, clamping a hand on my shoulder. “And that kid will get some payback. Believe me. I don’t care what coach says.”
I try to force a laugh and say something, but all I can do is fake a smile and nod. I can’t even open my eyes. I want to scream.
Fuck!
“All right, we’re there,” I hear the doctor say as the van pulls up at the hospital. I open my eyes as coach slides open the door and Joey and Brant pile out.
“Here ya go,” Brant says, grabbing my arm. How fucking humiliating. Joey grabs my other arm and I manage to slide out of the seat and onto the sidewalk. A nurse comes my way with a wheelchair and I feel my guts twist.
“Get that fucking thing away from me!”
She stops dead in her tracks and gives coach a look. But he just nods to her and she turns around and heads back inside. No fucking way I’m letting them get me in one of those and start wheeling me around. I’m not a cripple!
I let the guys help me through the sliding doors of the emergency room and straight through into the back. Someone must have called them and let them know I was coming. Thankfully there are not a lot of people here and I get to go straight in. They lead me into a small room with a bed and I take a seat.
“It’ll be all right, champ,” Coach tells me with a firm pat on the back.
After a few minutes, a doctor steps into the room. He’s a big guy and looks like he might have been an athlete at one time. He reaches out and gives me a firm handshake.
“Tommy Mason. Dr. Parker,” he tells me with a reassuring smile. “Sorry to see you here.”
“Sorry to be here,” I reply with a grimace.
“Well, we’re not gonna make you wait long,” he replies. “Got the x-ray set right up for you. Let’s get you down there now and see how things are looking.”
“All right,” I manage to say as the guys help me on my feet again. We make our way down the hall to the x-ray room and I slide myself onto the table beneath the machine. The x-ray tech moves this huge white arm over my leg and a light with an X on it projects over my ankle.
“Okay, we’re gonna get a few shots now, Tommy,” Dr. Parker tells me. “I’ll meet you back in the room to go over them.”
I give him the thumbs up as he leaves the room. The x-ray tech hands me one of those big lead-lined vests to put on then heads behind a wall to push the button. The x-ray machine whirrs and clicks and she comes back around to the table.
“I’m sorry, but I’m just going to adjust your leg a bit,” she tells me. I grit my teeth as she moves my ankle slightly and then heads back behind the wall. The machine clicks again and she comes back.
“Okay, that’s it,” she tells me. “I’ll get your friends.”
She steps out and calls Joey and Brant back into the room. They help me out and back down to my room. I feel like a fucking invalid. This is ridiculous. I can’t even believe I’m here, the entire fate of the rest of my career riding on how those x-rays come out.
As I take a seat back on the bed in my room, I realize I’ve never been so nervous in my life. Not for a game, not the first time I was with a girl, not when it’s thirty seconds left on the clock and we’re down by five. Nothing shakes me, but right now I’m freaking the fuck out.
All I can see is Dr. Parker coming back into the room, a sad smile on his face as he gives me the bad news. What will I do then? Sit on the sidelines for the rest of the season? And then what?
I’m not a straight-A student – not even close. It’s not like I’m just going to switch majors to science or something and start doing research. Sports is my thing. Basketball is who I am. If I can’t do that, what can I do?
I’ve never been a pessimist. I’m the kind of guy who sees an obstacle and wants to crush it. But this is something that is completely out of my hands. With Grace, there was an obstacle I was determined to overcome. She was shy, timid, afraid and had no idea who I was. But I set my sights on her and I didn’t let up until I got her.
But what am I supposed to do about a broken fucking ankle? Just make up my mind that it doesn’t hurt and the bone isn’t broken? That isn’t something you can just will away.
I sit with the boys in silence for what seems like forever, but as I glance back up at the clock on the wall I realize it’s only been a few minutes. I hear someone coming down the hall and feel my whole body go tense as Dr. Parker walks into the room. He’s got a smile on his face, but I can’t tell if it’s good or bad news.
He looks at me and raises his eyebrows.
“Well!?” I blurt out.