THE INTRODUCTION
We all desire for things in life to go our way. We are all embedded with ideals and philosophies, and it's with these attributes we each have our own unique concepts of what's perfect. The perfect life, the perfect world, the perfect everything. As a result, we become meticulous to every single detail in our planning. However, life and reality simply do not abide by our wills. They have their own agendas; I've accepted long ago that one can put as much effort as he or she would like in order to prepare for the future. It’s a sad yet undeniable truth that things don’t always go the way you plan, and such instances are rooted from adversity.
THE BACKGROUND
It was a 7:00 pm NCAA Division III Men's Soccer match at the Ravens Athletic Complex between my beloved Rosemont College and Widener University. Everything leading up to the game couldn't be any more normal-I woke up, ate breakfast, had my 10:10 MIS class, ate lunch at Noon, and then took a 2 hour nap. Afterwards, I woke up, played a little FIFA 16 on my Xbox One ('cause why not?), and proceeded to kill some more time. Eventually, I went to Wawa off of Bryn Mawr Ave and Haverford Road around 4:30 pm and ordered my favorite pregame meal: a toasted plain bagel with butter, a small chicken noodle soup, two bananas, and a 1.5 liter bottle of Deer Park water. By 5:30 pm, I joined my team for our pregame meeting. Nothing out of the ordinary occurred yet; I picked up my uniform, dressed up in my warmup kit, and got my shinguards and cleats on before we we reviewed the formation, tactics, starting lineup and scouting report for our game against Widener. At 6:20, my teammates and I began our warm-ups until it was time for kick-off. We suited up, huddle together, and got ourselves revved up for the game under the night sky on our beautiful gray turf. After 7 consecutive starting assignments, I found myself starting as a substitute, but that didn't bother me one bit because I was ready to play my part to thrust my team forward on all fronts.
To my delight, my coach, David Carvalho, told me to warm-up, and I proceeded to get some stretching and quality sprints in before I was given my assignment. By then, I already had my sights set on goal and was hungry to push my team forward. After 27:54 minutes (yes, I'm looking at the entire match report as I'm writing this article), I came on as our substitute striker to finish out the half. As it was 0-0 with us sustaining some pressure, I was even more hellbent on helping us get a goal. Once again, nothing major occurred-just ran back and forth at midfield, putting pressure on Widener's back-line and chasing after some through balls that were just beyond my grasp.
(Only thing on my mind at the time was helping my team get the go-ahead goal)
Then, IT HAPPENED.
THE INJURY AND THE HOSPITAL
Widener University's left-back sent a hospitable back pass to their goalkeeper, and being typical old me, I sprinted my butt off in order to capitalize on their error. I was able to get a touch on the ball going forward, but by then the goalie was coming out at full speed to clear it out of danger. He succeeded in doing just that, but in the process we collided as his cleat caught my lower leg, barely missing my shinguard. The resulting impact had me roll over, and it only got worse from there. Suddenly, I was screaming off the top of my lungs as I laid on the field in an enormous amount of unbearable pain. I looked down at my leg and saw that the lower portion my tibia, the larger shinbone, was dangling at the edge of my skin. That's right, I broke (well fractured) my tibia and, according to a later x-ray and diagnosis, fibula. I've endured my fair of injuries, but nothing could have prepared me for this. Play was stopped at the 34th minute, and I was on the ground in the most amount of distress and pain I ever experienced. The athletic trainer, Jon Hoynak immediately raced onto the turf to examine my leg, and we were subsequently joined by my two assistant coaches, Osni Rocha and Ryan McElroy.
After my athletic trainer and coaches were able to help me elevate and straighten the injured leg, I was in an unusually talkative mood for someone in a great deal of pain. After I settled down and both teams went to their respective benches, I started crying. Not because of the physical pain, but because it was my senior year and I knew that my season, and quite possibly my career, was over. I had dreams for this fall: score at least 5 goals, accumulate some assists, and land an CSAC All-Conference accolade to cap off my college career at the NCAA Division III level. I envisioned myself celebrating with my team after earning a playoff berth, playing my last ever slate of conference games, getting the starting assignment up top for our Senior Day game, and being able to play in the postseason. All these hopes and dreams were instantly wiped away once that devastating injury occurred. Afterwards, Coach Carvalho ran onto the field to check up on me, and I was touched by the praise and kind words I received from every member of the coaching staff. Eventually, the EMTs arrived and with the collective effort of my coaches, Public safety officers, and paramedics (I'm heavier than I look), I was stretchered into the ambulance with my fist raised firmly in the air, signalling my team to push on despite the injury and distress we all witnessed.
(The moment the injury occurred)
I was transported to Bryn Mawr Hospital, and was lucky to be accompanied by one of my wonderful friends, Danielle "Dani" Lelie. Throughout the process, I continued to talk incessantly while given repeated doses of Fentanyl in order to ease the pain. I was brought into one of the rooms, where a plethora of doctors examined my leg. Soon, my mother arrived at my hospital room, where she was in a massive amount of shock after seeing my leg in pieces. After calming her down, she, Dani, and I reflected on the two ironies of my current situation: after being in the hospital 4 days earlier to treat a lacerated lip I suffered in our match against Hood College, I returned to the hospital way too soon. Also, I had collided with 2 opposing team goalkeepers in 2 weeks, and I was wondering, but not eager for, to see if such an incident would occur for the third time in 3 weeks. It did, but with disastrous results.
After about another hour or two, 3 doctors came to check up on me. Subsequently, they proceeded to realign my leg, and to my luck, the process wasn't as painful as I initially thought (but it was still very painful). While I was happy that the realignment was done, I was delivered a double dosage of gut-wrenching news: (1) We were defeated by Widener 4-1 after some controversial refereeing decisions, and (2) I wasn't allowed to eat any food for the rest of the night. However, my disappointment quickly turned into delight and warmth. In waves, all of my teammates went straight to the hospital and came to check up on me. To this day, no selection or amount of words can described how touching this moment. Unity has always been a goal of Rosemont College Men’s Soccer, and we’ve struggled with this in the past, but from that day onwards I’ve never seen it expressed so emphatically, and I will always be grateful knowing that my teammates are there for me. My hope is that this unity will remain, as it will be pivotal to the growth of our soccer program at Rosemont College. We talked about a variety of things such as the game against Widener, my condition, food, classes, etc. After the quality team-bonding, I was transported to a new room and was immediately given well wishes by my team, coaches, family, and friends either in person or by text.
(In the hospital surrounded by my teammates and friends)
From September 21st dusk till 22nd dawn, the worst combination of conditions to afflict my body thus far unfolded: a colossal amount of pain my right leg from the fractured tibia and fibula, no sleep, the constant, unwelcome check-ups on my body by the Bryn Mawr Hospital staff when trying to sleep (Don’t get me wrong, the doctors and nurses at the hospital were exceptional. I just really wanted to sleep.), my hunger reaching its zenith, and just coping with the fact that though I gave everything I had, my senior year of soccer was cut short. However, the unpleasantness was eased once I received a surprise visit from my dad, who was given permission from his superiors at work in Ohio to return earlier than expected. My mom soon joined, and we spent some quality time with each other before my 6:00 pm surgery. Prior to my operation, I had to get cleaned up and was briefed on what would unfold. Afterwards, I had a few minutes to myself, where I proceeded to inform my friends and family on Facebook of my injury.
While I was extremely anxious about undergoing my first major surgery, all the qualms I had were quickly extinguished with the anesthesia that knocked me out. As I slowly woke up, the first two things that instantly struck me were absolute hunger and more of the unwelcomed colossal pain. Once I fully regained my bearings, the surgeon and my parents were delighted to inform me that the operation was a success and that I now had screws and a metal rod implanted in my lower right leg. Unfortunately, the cast I was put in forbade me from (1) standing on both feet as well as sleeping on my belly and sides, and (2) showering, both of which was for 2 weeks until my follow-up; in in those regards, I was far from a happy camper. On the bright side, I was permitted to eat, and I proceeded to scarf down some ice chips and a big helping of orange Jell-O. I then checked my missed calls, texts, and social media accounts. Let me just say this: I was overwhelmed with the amount of people who reached out to me on all fronts, ranging from the Rosemont College community and alumni, current and former teammates as well as coaches (some of which I have not spoken to for years), and family members. I’ve never been so touched and honored to be a part of college and soccer communities that have been extremely supportive. These gestures alone reaffirmed my belief that I made the right decision 4 years ago to commit to Rosemont College.
(They're not just my teammates and coaches. They're my family. Win, lose, or draw, I wouldn't trade away the time I spent at Rosemont College as a student-athlete for anything)
After spending September 23rd at Bryn Mawr Hospital, I finally returned home with my parents, and I am truly grateful they were able to take leaves of absence from their jobs to take care of my for the week. They were always willing to help me, no matter what time of day or night it had to be done. Essentially, I was as pampered as a newborn baby, but in the process I was placed in a comfort zone I was very reluctant to step out of. On the other hand, it was driving me crazy that I couldn’t be with my team to support them as they began their conference schedule, let alone play for them. Nevertheless, I followed the live stats and videos religiously, and spoke with my teammates and coaches about the games afterwards. Another instance of the empowering unity I witnessed was when I found out via Snapchat that they brought full uniform to all of the games I could not make. It was another touching gesture from my teammates and coaches, and it reaffirmed my stance that I made the right choice to play soccer for Rosemont College.
(My right leg after surgery)
THE EMOTIONAL ROLLER COASTER
While I was doing well and already making progress in recovering physically, the emotional burden of sustaining such an injury began to take effect. On this end, the injury has definitely taken a massive toll on me. More often than not, I have cried because coping with a fractured tibia and fibula has been the most traumatic experience I’ve dealt with. For the first time in my life, I feel vulnerable. I feel robbed of my identity; to be completely candid, I’ve only known myself as a soccer player. While I do take my academics, future, and social and family lives seriously, soccer has been the only thing that I’ve truly identified with. My entire life has revolved around the beautiful game. Soccer ingrained in me and developed my personality, lifestyle, attitudes, beliefs, and values. Knowing that I won’t be able to play the game for 4-6 months has definitely taken a spring out of my step. Honestly, I’ve had days where I’ve skipped classes because I’ve been feeling sorry for myself, haven’t eaten as much as I should, and/or I would be sleeping all day.
What’s also depressing is that my fall college soccer season is over, and that it had to be during my senior year, which I intended it to be the best ever campaign to top off my interscholastic soccer career. As I said before, I had dreams for this fall: score at least 5 goals, accumulate some assists, and land an All-Conference accolade to cap off my college career at the NCAA Division III level. I envisioned myself celebrating with my team after earning a playoff berth, playing my last ever slate of conference games, getting the starting assignment up top for our Senior Day game, and being able to play in the postseason. All these hopes and dreams were instantly wiped away once this devastating injury occurred.
In these aspects, something important was taken away from me at a very crucial time in my career. Knowing that there’s a possibility that the 6 minutes I was on against Widener University would be the very last minutes I touch a soccer ball at the NCAA level will be my last brings me to tears. While there is a possibility I can come back to Rosemont College to play soccer for a 5th year via an NCAA Medical Hardship Waiver, it isn’t certain. I gave everything I had for Rosemont College Men’s Soccer ever since I was freshman, and I do hope to return for one last year and serve Rosemont College Men’s Soccer as a player before hanging up the boots on my Division III career. For the time being, not knowing what’s to come in this regard is mentally tormenting.
Lastly, not knowing what’s next really brings anxiety to the forefront. Will I be an accountant? Will I sit for my CPA? Will I still be playing soccer? Will I start a family of my own? There are all these possibilities and paths to consider and pursue; to be frank, I have no idea what to do after I graduate from college. I fear making the wrong decisions in my career at the most pivotal of moments, and I fear not being proficient in the field I’m in. Also, I fear not be able to keep in touch with the people I’ve grown so fond of at Rosemont after I graduate. I’ve had the honor of meeting and befriending so many great people here, and the thought of going our separate ways and possibly growing apart drives me crazy. Ultimately, not having fun like I do in my youth once I’m older is scary as well.
FIGHTING FEARS AND ADVERSITY WITH WILLPOWER
After wallowing in my fears, I then wipe off the tears, raise my fist in the air, and tell myself that everything will be okay. Reason being, I have the final say on whether things will turn out great or not. In the end, I’m responsible every decision I make, and the choices that are made will dictate the future. Essentially, it’s willpower and accountability that come into play. Truthfully, the worst of this injury is done with, and I can now focus my efforts on recuperating, healing, and progressively doing the things I normally did and will be permitted to do: walking, physical therapy, weight-lifting, running, and eventually a return to the soccer field and tennis court (By now if you don’t know that I play tennis too, we can’t be friends. Just kidding, but seriously, I play tennis too). 5th year or not, I will make a triumphant comeback in soccer and tennis. Why, you may ask? It’s because I’m too darn stubborn, leading an active lifestyle is who I am, and in case you haven’t realized by now: I love soccer (and tennis too, but soccer is the A1 Day 1). I refuse to give up now just because I’m facing adversity at its zenith. I’ll keep fighting and grinding until I’m physically incapable of doing so. Until that day arrives, I’ll keep playing soccer and tennis, and I’ll be leaving everything on the field no matter what happens. Afterwards, I’ll be enjoying tea or a nice cold beer while I’m surrounded by my friends and family, reflecting on what’s been one heck of journey.
(I'm ruled out of action for 4-6 months, but I've already made so much progress with my recovery. One day at a time. I'll be back on the field in no time.)
Most importantly, there are a lot of people supporting me throughout this great ordeal, and that pushes me to keep thrive forward academically, athletically, and socially. I’ll be failing my professors, my coaches, my teammates, my friends, my family, and most importantly, myself, if I choose to succumb to my fears and regress. It’s not who I am, and it sure as heck isn’t how my parents raised or how my coaches and teachers taught me. I’ll be successful because I believe the person I’ve become knows right from wrong and knows what’s best for him to move forward. Being injured like this sucks, but as a person I believe this incident could have been the best thing to have ever happened to me. I’ve begun viewing my life from various perspectives I’ve never knew existed, and my empathy towards other has developed considerably. I feel empowered, and I know that no matter what happens, I’ll have the support I need to succeed. Ultimately, the man has lain dormant in me for so long has finally awoken in the sense I’m more conscientious about the feelings and reactions of others in regards to subject matters and proper language. I have a reputation of being a loose cannon and shooting off my mouth at the wrong time, but I do not anticipate the aforementioned instances being too big of problems from now on. As for my fear of whether I’ll be able to have fun when I’m older, I’m not too worried. Our priorities and definition of “fun” change as we age. As a result, our levels of fulfillment in the matter alter as well. No matter what, I firmly believe that I’ll be loving life no matter how old I get.
I just want to let everyone who stumbles upon this article to know this: adversity occurs whether you like it or not. It absolutely sucks when things that you planned and set out to do end up not in your favor. However, how you respond to adversity reveals a lot about one’s character. Suffering a fractured tibia and fibula and recovering from it has been the most challenging experience I’ve been facing physically, mentally, and emotionally. It has been a very rough ride, especially with my vulnerability reaching its zenith. However, from this experience I’ve learned that admitting when one is feeling vulnerable is a sign of courage and strength, and that I have no reason to feel ashamed or toothless for that matter. It hasn’t been easy, but I’m fighting. And I won’t stop fighting until I emerge victorious. And emerge victorious I shall.
(I'll keep battling through this injury like I did for my team, and in the end I'll be celebrating this triumph with my boys at my side. One love, one team. All in for Rosemont!)
