Ouch!

I have been accident prone all my life due to some clumsiness, acting hastily, and not thinking ahead. One of the most creative accidents in my life occurred during a baseball game in high school.

My friend and I were almost late to the game due to having an after school band rehearsal. As a horn player, I sometimes would keep a bottle of valve oil in my back pocket that I used to oil my horn. Back then the bottles were made out of glass. Most brass players I know keep a bottle of valve oil handy.

Gary and I made it to the game and I assumed my post at 3rd base. During the 3rd inning, the ball was hit into the outfield and the runner attempted to make it to 3rd base. The ball arrived well before the runner and I was gleefully anticipating making the tag for the out. I assumed he would go into a slide but he changed his mind and decided to play linebacker, hoping I would not be able to hold on to the ball.

I held onto the ball for the out but ended up on my backside looking proud of myself but feeling in pain. As I stood and dusted myself off, I realized my hand was wet and somewhat oily. It took a few more minutes before I remembered the bottle of valve oil. I limped back to the dugout, attempted to sit on the bench and found myself in greater pain than before. By this time, my dad, seeing the grimace on my face came over. I reached in my back pocket and brought out some glass to show him.

We rushed to the hospital where I was placed prone on a table, my clothes removed, and the glass slowly picked out of the wound. By the time all the glass was out, the pain had become severe. A odd looking syringe was then applied for an irrigation technique to rid the open area of any oil. The oil content prevented stitches due to the possible infection. After several hours of glass removal and cleaning, I was sent home to enjoy lying on my stomach or standing up. Sitting down was not an option!

On the way out of the hospital, the nurse who had already made several jokes about the incident, whispered something in my ear which I did not understand at the time but do understand it now. She said, "Don't forget--PYA!"

Unfortunately, it still hurts a little every now and then, but you will never find another bottle of valve oil in my back pocket again. I generally subscribe to the school of hard knocks which in my case is the school of glass in pocks!