Break face and go home
Hit it
My first ski of the season was a success, I've got all my teeth, nothing's broken and my eardrums are in one piece.
My Maha performed as expected, though I didn't but at least I didn't break my face.
Ever heard of the saying, "go big or go home?"
Well, ever since July 4 2009, my friends and I have a new saying, "break face and go home!"
I was riding with my good ski buddies at 6 a.m. on Lake Almanor before the fishermen were even out, as I'd done literally hundreds of times before.
It was like any other run. I'd strapped into my wakeboard on the dock gathered two lengths of non-stretch rope, said the familiar mantra to myself through shivers, "the water is warmer than the air."
I chucked the two coils of rope, yelled "Hit it!" and gave a quick hop and held on for life saying yet another mantra, "never let go."
I hit the water feet first with my hair dry and went into my run, a classic pattern for me, heal-side air to get the feel, landing in the flats and edging hard into a toe-side slide, back into a toe side air landing sketchy on my toes riding it out waiving a one-handed windmill.
Now for the ego moves - a succession of three to four wake-to-wake 180s with some surface tricks mixed in and then with a wide start to a really progressive cut on my toes, I keep the rope tight to my left, rear hip, knees bent hard and popping I roll forward into a front roll landing in the flats outside the wake sliding out before coming to my feet.
The first flip of the year landed, now what? I'd exhausted my lineup save for some other long-shot moves.
Back flip? No I'd been too afraid of busting my knee after the last attempt.
It was early in the season and I was out of shape and I had nothing left in the tank so I went for the scarecrow, a front roll with a 180.
It was all-bad and ugly from the start. My knees buckled into the wake as a rolled too early and slow.
I landed flat on my feet with my knees tucked tight, nearly sitting on the board. My right knee came up faster than my reflexes and with more power than my out-of-shape legs. Simultaneously my neck gave out sending my head into my knee like a whip.
My knee hit me square in my right cheek like a right hook from a heavyweight boxer.
It hurt real bad.
I immediately felt my two cheeks with two hands and noticed a depression in my cheek.
"I broke my freaking face!" was my first thought.
I couldn't see, couldn't think of anything but the pain, I felt super dizzy and struggled to get the darn board off.
Good thing my driver is literally a brain surgeon.
Between hundreds of obscenities, I tell him, "Craig, I think I broke my face."
After a brief inspection he says, "no, I think you're OK, you'd know if you broke your face."
Well by this time I had a small pressure cut on my cheek, like boxers get.
My eye was swelling and I had a splitting headache.
Long story short, I asked for a quick ride back to the dock called my then fiancé and asked for a ride home and guessed I'd be out of the 5k I was supposed to run later that day.
I spent the rest of the day at Seneca Hospital ralphing in a paper bag and at home sleeping it off.
I still get phone calls and e-mails from certain friends where the first words or the subject line say, I kid you not, "Break face and go home!"