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"We are, we are the Tornados!"
The fans in the stadium roar every time we have the ball. The stadium is a sea of purple with our team color. This is the final game of the season. If we win, we stay at the top of the division and get a bye to the divisional game. Light snow and the cold winds make playing a challenge. The adrenaline rush of making it to the playoffs if we win this game keeps us all going.
It is the final quarter of play in the game against the Grizzlies. Twenty-seven points to six is a healthy lead. I am all pumped up, knowing the game doesn't end until the final whistle. Anything can happen. A few bad passes and the game will slip away from us.
My mind blocks out the noise focusing on the next play. I rattle off instructions guiding my team as they take their spots. The center snaps the ball and sends it to me. The bodies slam against each other as the Grizzlies come for me. My offense blocks them out as I pass a short middle to Tim. He makes a clean catch and runs, but the tackle from the Grizzly defense makes sure we do not progress beyond seven yards. Tim hangs on to the ball.
For the second and the three, I fake a throw to my wide receiver. As a quarterback, I am a marked man, so the window of opportunity is narrow. My mind is doing the calculations as my eyes scan the field for an unmarked receiver to pass the ball to. By the time Damon breaks free and creates a space for himself, the Grizzlies breakthrough. Two linebackers lunge at me as I jump up to throw the ball. For a moment, I am up in the air trying to go high, but don't make it as they block the sky out from my sight.
After that, pain shuts everything out. My back lands on the ground, crushed by the Grizzly players on top. When the pileup clears, all I see on my left leg is blood, soaking my socks. My hands squeeze the part below my left knee, at the place it hurts the most. An effort to sit up sends immense pain shooting up to my hip. It gets worse as the pain blocks all sensations—I can't feel my foot. Fear sends my mind into a frenzy. Damn, am I done for the season?
Tim, my wide receiver and buddy, is standing nearby. The horror on his face confirms my worst fears. The injury is bad. I slump back to the ground, praying. Oh God not me, not now. The officials have stopped play. Dr. Nelson, our team physician, is by my side with our head athletic trainer.
"How bad is it?" I stutter between bouts of pain, clutching my thigh.
"Lie down boy, you broke your leg." Dr. Nelson holds my thigh down with both his hands.
My world collapses on hearing the words. Tears merge with the sweat. No, this is not the way I want my game to end. I slam my fists to the ground.
The medical team splints my leg. They put me on a stretcher and carry me off the field into a waiting ambulance. After that, I blackout. The pain, combined with the exhaustion of the game, gets the better of me. Everything is hazy after that. The paramedic gives me few shots to reduce the pain. Sleep is the last word from his mouth.
***
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. THE random sounds wake me up. My eyes land on my leg, wrapped in bandages, hanging from a sling. Fluids are being pumped into my arm. Jason paces the floor. Stephen, my agent, is on the phone.
"Where am I?"
Jason turns and walks towards me. "We are at the Bone and Neurology Care Center."
"Why?"
"Jon, you broke your leg in the game today." Jason's tone is somber.
The horror and pain, all come back. Jason is holding back something. "Is there a problem, Jason?"
Stephen gets up. He is the no-nonsense guy. "Jon, your leg is a mess. We have spoken to a few doctors, and they all paint a grim picture."
"Will I be able to play again?" The only thing that matters. No pain, no surgery, no hard work can chicken me out. The furrows on their faces set off my alarms. This will not be easy.
"Jon, the injury does not look good. The last doctor we met was not sure if you would be able to walk without a limp. Your chances of a full recovery are grim unless this lady here pulls off a miracle." Stephen moves his hand above my bandaged leg.
I don't like where Stephen is taking this. "What? Why do you have to say such a thing?" Sometimes I wish he ate some sugar before he opened his mouth. Jason touches my shoulder. "Don't worry mate, we are working to get this fixed. Do you remember Chuck? He got his knee surgery here."
Chuck is a defensive back with the Rovers team. His knee was knocked bad two seasons ago. However, he got back after sitting out an entire season.
"Jason, don't give Jon false hope. We don't know if she will take the case." Stephen is at it again. How I wish at this moment to punch and shut Stephen's mouth. But I need him on my side to get through this fiasco, so I turn to Stephen, "Who is she?"
"The doctor who will operate on you. She is on vacation and we are trying to contact her." Jason sits by my side. He is my best friend and for the last two years, also my brother-in-law.
"Are we not losing time? Can someone else operate?" I try to prop up on my elbows on the bed, but Jason stops me and I land back with a thud. My head is full of questions and I'm an impatient jerk. The waiting will do nothing for the worry monster pacing in my head.
"They say she is the best in these parts. Your only chance at getting out of this intact." Jason is trying his best not to upset me, but it is not helping.
"We are working on a Plan B. If we don't get her in the next thirty minutes, we move to another hospital." Stephen is not sure about the situation here at the hospital and that can't be good for me.
"Is there any hope?" My eyes search Jason's face for a clue, but he is expressionless.
"Yes, there is." My mother walks in with a broad smile. One glance at her and I know the smile hides the worries in her mind. She comes over and gives me a peck on the head. "They have located her. They want us to be present during the call. Let's go."
Stephen follows mom out of the room. I send a silent prayer to God for help.