Some think that climbing mountains, is a risky game to play;
But team games give the injuries, or so the stats would say.
The ‘risky’ pastimes I pursue, like surfing, skiing or in canoe,
Or hanging from a rocky face, seem safer than a ‘normal’ place.
And here I give a case example, where a poor chaps foot, gets a hard trample!
But team games give the injuries, or so the stats would say.
The ‘risky’ pastimes I pursue, like surfing, skiing or in canoe,
Or hanging from a rocky face, seem safer than a ‘normal’ place.
And here I give a case example, where a poor chaps foot, gets a hard trample!
An evening match had been arranged - some footy just for fun;
I got signed up, told head upfield; just kick the ball and run!
Observing who you’re up against, is a tactic best to choose;
To ensure one’s safety on the pitch; avoid tackles one might lose.
I kept well clear of those in studs, or players with strange gait,
And wide berth is always prudent, from those of heavy weight.
A preservation tactic, was my de-fence in the game;
But didn’t quite pay off this time, which is really quite a shame.
A speeding player, with foot outstretched, could not be dodged in time;
The studded foot came crashing down directly right on mine.
Limping, hopping, staggering; I hoped I would be fine,
A rude word did escape my lips en-route to the side line.
A direct hit upon one’s foot is a hard thing to protect;
I could only hope that my scoring foot, wasn’t well and truly wrecked!
I sat and held my foot quite firm as the swelling did begin;
The match continued and come full-time, we didn’t even win.
As time moved on, the foot did grow, to an alarming size;
If there were awards for odd sized feet, I’d probably win a prize.
With great concern for my poor foot, to hospital I went,
X-ray examination showed, it’s not broken; only bent.
I got signed up, told head upfield; just kick the ball and run!
Observing who you’re up against, is a tactic best to choose;
To ensure one’s safety on the pitch; avoid tackles one might lose.
I kept well clear of those in studs, or players with strange gait,
And wide berth is always prudent, from those of heavy weight.
A preservation tactic, was my de-fence in the game;
But didn’t quite pay off this time, which is really quite a shame.
A speeding player, with foot outstretched, could not be dodged in time;
The studded foot came crashing down directly right on mine.
Limping, hopping, staggering; I hoped I would be fine,
A rude word did escape my lips en-route to the side line.
A direct hit upon one’s foot is a hard thing to protect;
I could only hope that my scoring foot, wasn’t well and truly wrecked!
I sat and held my foot quite firm as the swelling did begin;
The match continued and come full-time, we didn’t even win.
As time moved on, the foot did grow, to an alarming size;
If there were awards for odd sized feet, I’d probably win a prize.
With great concern for my poor foot, to hospital I went,
X-ray examination showed, it’s not broken; only bent.
With great relief, I left the place where the doctors news did please;
And got foot up by the fireside, with a bag of frozen peas.
The bruise is going black to blue, with a yucky shade of yellow too,
I guess that means it’s healing well, and surely with some time we’ll tell,
This fat old foot must un-swell soon, then I’ll be back to moving fast,
But until then, I’ll use the sticks - at least I’ve got no cast
Looking for a positive, the crutches do provide,
An upper body workout, while hobbling outside
I can go quite fast with practice, but not with much of finesse
The Cottage now is my confine; but it’s a comfy convalesce...
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