Time for another Bobby Classic, as I discuss the many ways I managed to hurt myself in a just a few days of working my job at a summer camp.
Seriously, I mean that. If you don’t believe me, just have a quick perusal of the self-inflicted woes I’ve been stuck with in the mere week-and-a-half since camp started, solely as a result of my own stupidity. Oh, and it bears noting that this list is simply the self-harm I can currently remember from the last few days. You can rest assured that there is plenty more that I am forgetting.
Resulting Injuries: Badly scraped/gashed hand, minor scrapes on legs
Also to Blame: Bees
Why I Suck: So, all of 15 minutes into the first day of camp I managed my first moment of brilliance at the basketball courts. With a counselor-to-camper ratio in the cage of a ludicrous number somewhere in the 4:7 neighborhood, it should have been a pretty easy, relaxing morning. A roughly 1-to-2 ration means you have more or less no responsibility, plus the majority of the kids were youngins, so none of the annoying mouthing off you get when mixing sports with eighth-grade boys who are at that age where they are old enough to think they’re tough, but small enough to blow away in a stiff wind. And for awhile, it was pretty calm. Then the bee showed up, and I began flailing and backpedaling with all the grace and control of a raver having a seizure. For those of you who have never been to Camp Sac, the cage can also be used for tennis, so there’s a center pole for the nets, which I completely forgot about in my insect-related panic, leading to one painful introduction of ass-to-asphalt.
Resulting Injuries: Emotional trauma, bruising
Also to Blame: Ally, Cooney, Rev. Ed, Kira
Why I Suck: Apparently tired with the cage’s vast game assortment of Knockout and more Knockout, the children were looking for something new to play. Ally suggested “hit Bobby with the basketballs.” My loving fellow-counselors obliged. I spent the next 5 minutes curled in a ball with the campers circled around me, throwing basketballs at my face. I’m not kidding.
Resulting Injuries: Loss of a fair portion of the flesh which used to comprise my leg, other painful cuts
Also to Blame: Nick
Why I Suck: With the excellent day one, and its fantastic games time, behind me, day two games found us at the kickball field. As is to be expected, my team was getting trounced, as I without fail manage to wind up as the counselor on the team full of kids that can barely walk, let alone partake in athletic endeavors. And Dan, who, despite his closeness in nomenclature to athletic achievement, is even worse than the kids. So, my team is getting trounced when Nick comes up to bat (foot?), and blasts one deep. Thinking that it will be my hustle that will save the day for Team SpEd, I backpedal (you may be noticing a theme here) while intently following the ball. I kept my eye on the ball all the way to within two feet of my hands (thank you Tee-Ball coaches) at which point my priorities changed, as I suddenly realized I had hit the treeline and fallen into a bush. Now, I can only assume the ball hit a branch and bounced back onto the field as I soon saw Dan fielding it. I’m not sure though, as all my mind was focusing on at the time was the fact that said bush seemed to be of the pricker variety, and that one of the branches was somehow wrapped around my ankle a good four times.
The Greg Louganis
Resulting Injuries: Ouchie wrists, foggy brains
Also to Blame: Ed, Tim, Wesley Snipes and Woody Harrelson
Why I Suck: Games day four, and fresh off an injury-free day three, I’m feeling pretty good. The group before us had played ultimate Frisbee, but our group thought that was totally gay (which it isn’t, but again, eigth grade guys) and decided to instead play soccer. Being that we’re lazy fucks, the counselors sat around and watched. Then Ed decided he could hurdle the Frisbee goals which, as anyone who knows Ed and has some reasonable estimation of Frisbee goal heights (ie: over 2 feet tall) can tell you, he could not. Being that we’re retarded though, Tim and I joined him in attempting to hurdle them, despite the fact that they are somewhere between four and five feet tall. Eventually, I had the brilliant idea to dive face first to clear the hurdle. Stupid. But, as it turns out, I did it successfully and injury free. Twice. Then I joined the soccer game, and decided to celebrate a goal with a third dive. Not a great decision. I landed wrong on my wrists, then had my head slam into the ground, leading to much wooziness.
Fuck You, Tyler
Resulting Injuries: More cuts on my legs, friction burned shin
Also to Blame: Tyler
Why I Suck: Week two has actually been a banner week for me, since as of right now this is the only injury that I can think of. Tim had us at the maze for capture-the-flag, and since the kids are all a bunch of little cheaters, Tyler and I hid out teams’ respective flags, theoretically somewhere not surrounded by Ow. Tyler put his team’s in the middle of a patch of what I can only reason was razorblades and rebar (is that even how it’s spelled? I don’t know, the metal pole-ish things you find in concrete) which led to my attempted capture, and his attempted tagging of me, being decisions we would both come to regret. As an added bonus, an homage to my last pricker-related injury if you would, while playing kickball today with no sandals (Faith had stolen mine, naturally) I decided to give my throbbing right foot a break by going lefty. The ball took a bounce and I kicked the ball as hard as I could directly off of the big friction burn on my shin that one of the sticks in the maze had given me in my mad-dash to freedom. That fucking hurt.
Resulting Injuries: Broken (possibly) computer monitor… fuck you, that counts
Also to Blame: God
Why I Suck: If you’ve never seen my room, it’s small. Literally, I have a bed, a built in shelf thing, and this weird little bathroom with only half a wall, a broken toilet and a sink with water I would put somewhere below “syringe full of AIDs” on the list of things I’d like to drink from. Because of the putridness of the sink’s pipes, I bring cups of water up to brush with. One of these cups, inexplicably, I left on my monitor last night. Today, and in looking at it now I don’t know what exactly I was trying to do that caused this, I punched said cup, spilling water all over said monitor. Sure enough it fizzled and went all faded on me. I went to the attic to get another old one, which also decided it hated me, before settling on stealing the one hooked up to my brother’s computer. My actual, not-a-piece-of-shit monitor is now sitting upside down on my eight square-feet of floor space in the hopes that will somehow make it not broked anymore. I don’t know, it worked for my phone.
Like I said before, this is simply the stupidness coming to mind right now, and I’m sure there is plenty I missed, but I’ve been writing for awhile now and I still have to do a fake bio for Jim’s birthday present, since he asked me a week ago, and his birthday is now in the multiple-days stage of passed. In my defense, I’ve been diligently working to create a new MillerBrothersMMA.com (which now looks much slicker and more professional if I do say so myself) because it needed to look better to match the big news regarding them that will be going up in the coming days/weeks.