Chapter 40

Matt
The doctors had done a CT scan because the X-rays were inconclusive as to the extent of the damage Matt had received in his dustup at the Phi Sigs’ on Saturday. The team doctor had agreed to meet both Matt and Coach Clayton at the coach’s office before practice.

Matt got there early and saw the doctor hadn’t yet arrived with his results.

“What the hell happened?” Coach Clayton demanded, jumping on him before he even took his seat.

“Crystal had her fundraiser, and all the sororities were celebrating its success at the Phi Sigs’ house. I ran into a douchebag, and words were exchanged. We took it outside, and his two buddies jumped me.”

“Were you drunk?”

“I’d had a couple,” Matt said to deflect the question.

“A couple, huh? Your blood work showed a .15. Thank God you weren’t driving,” Coach Clayton ranted.

Matt was happy when his coach’s receptionist announced Doctor Liao. The doctor joined them, and his face didn’t give anything away.

“What’s the word, Doc?” Coach Clayton asked.

“It’s not terrible, but I can’t clear him to play yet.”

“Can’t you just give him something?” Coach Clayton asked.

“If it were during the season, sure. Since it’s not, it’s more important to get him well.”

Coach Clayton didn’t like the doctor’s response. Matt could see that this meant he would miss a couple of practices.

“What did you find, and when can I get back on the field?” he asked.

Doctor Liao pulled out a picture that only showed his ribs. The problem with chest X-rays was that a person’s lungs could blur the image of the bones, and you couldn’t see what was really going on. The CT scan, however, was clear as day. It showed Matt had two cracked ribs on his right side and one on his left.

Doctor Liao pointed at the scan results.

“If the bones higher on your rib cage had been cracked, it could have been serious. As it is, this injury is painful but not life-threatening.”

“Like I said earlier, why not just pad him up and let him practice?” Coach Clayton pressed.

“If it were a cracked limb, we could put a splint on it to hold the bone in place. There’s no way to do that with ribs. Your ribs must be able to move fluidly because they serve as attachment sites for many muscles that control the neck, pelvis, and arms. They also assist in breathing.

“Since we can’t hold them in place, there’s a danger that they won’t heal properly. It’s also entirely possible that the injury could worsen with too much movement. We aren’t in season, so my primary responsibility is Matt’s long-term health.

“I looked at the practice schedule, and you have two weeks until spring break, and then you come back and have a final week of practice. Given what I see here, I’m going to require that Matt refrain entirely from physical activity for the next two weeks.

“Over spring break, he can get in with the trainers, and they will help him manage his pain and get him ready for the last week of practice. I’ll want to see him the Sunday before the end of spring break to check his progress. If all looks good, he’ll be cleared to practice then,” Doctor Liao explained.

“I don’t think you understand. I need Matt in practice for the next two weeks to get him ready for next year. Can’t he heal up after spring ball?” Coach Clayton asked.

“Absolutely not. And don’t bother trying to make an end run and talk to the athletic director. In matters of team health, I have the final word,” Doctor Liao responded.

Matt could see his coach wasn’t happy with the decision.

’Thank God Coach Clayton wasn’t there this morning when I woke up,’ he thought.

If the coach had been, he might understand how much pain Matt was in. It hurt to even breathe. If it weren’t for the giant pills that looked like horse tranquilizers, he would’ve had a hard time walking here today.

When the doctor was done, Coach Clayton was in a mood, and Matt was happy when he was dismissed.

Matt shuffled away in a mindless stupor, replaying what had just happened as he made his way to the locker room. His father had played college ball and had warned him about injuries. He’d told Matt to always look out for himself; he’d seen some of his fellow teammates pay the price of coaches forcing them out on the field before it was safe. His father said it was the second injury that was the career-ender.

Matt knew that if he masked the pain, he could possibly practice, but he wasn’t ready to do that in the next couple of days. All he had to do was remember how he felt when his pain pill wore off that morning. Matt felt the doctor might be acting overly cautious, but he would rather get well than have a nagging injury that never healed.

When he reached the locker room, he saw a bunch of guys gathered around, looking at pictures on a phone.

“Matt, you’ve got to see this. We took John out Saturday night and got him drunk,” one of his fellow offensive linemen shared.

Matt had a twinge of guilt because picking on John wasn’t really fair. Matt suspected that he might have a ‘cognitive disability.’ Either that, or his parents should never have been allowed to procreate.

He looked at the picture and choked back a laugh. John had passed out, and his teammates had stripped him down. John was sasquatch hairy. Someone had taken a razor and shaved his body in various places so they could write on him with a permanent marker. Right above his shriveled cock, it said, ‘Take Me To Your Beaver!’

“You guys aren’t right,” Matt said as he shook his head.

While he looked at more pictures, out of the corner of his eye he spotted Bill Callaway, a friend of David’s. When there was a break in the conversation, he went to Bill’s locker. Matt wanted to know if David had been talking about how Matt got hurt and how David had to save him.

He sat down next to Bill, and there was a sudden pain in his side as he did so, causing him to suck in his breath.

“You okay?” Bill asked with concern.

“I cracked some ribs. I’ll be out of action for the next couple of weeks.”

“That sucks. How did it happen?”