A gang of little kids surrounded me in the street while I was walking to a friends house the other night. They were screaming at the top of their lungs, wanting to play soccer with me in the town square. There are usually 30 hectic drug dealers I have to get through down the street, so it was a nice change going through the kids.
After taking the bait to play, three of the kids quickly ran over to block a big goal marked by cement pillars, and started waving their arms, while shouting in Arabic. The soccer ball was sitting a few yards in front of the goal, set up perfectly.
Wanting to school the routy groms, I took a quick stride and blasted the crap out of the ball, kicking it as hard as I could. It clumsily rolled a few feet away. “Ahhhh”! My foot went completely numb and started to throb.
The kids packed the deflated soccer ball full of jagged bricks.
I’m out of the water with a blown-up foot that might be broken. In a way, the incident seems appropriate for life as of late.