University Motel

     After playing junior varsity football in the 9th grade, I was promoted to the varsity squad at the end of the season.   I began the 10th grade as a 3rd string fullback.  The first major knee injury came early in my sophomore year.  We were grouped into second- and third-string offensive and defensive units, and were walking through several plays that Head Coach Charlie Nuttycombe  planned to use in the upcoming game.  A junior lineman, a last-string marginal player who never became a starter, took a cheap shot at my left knee.  I won't mention his name since he is no longer with us, but he clipped my left knee from the side as I looked downfield.  There was not a great deal of force behind the hit, just enough to bend the joint inward and strain, or most likely tear, the inside meniscus or cartilage.  I recall that the legendary NNHS defensive line coach, Johnny Palmer, had observed the incident, and reprimanded the useless SOB (1) for delivering such a cheap blow.  It was obvious Coach Palmer  was disgusted with the fat slob, who really had no apparent football talent.  The knee swelled quickly and I was sent to see Dr. J.W. Carney, the team physician, and oddly enough my Father's personal doctor.  I had accompanied Dad to Dr. Carney's office several times, and witnessed the Doc stick long needles into his knees to withdraw fluid, and then inject novacaine for the treatment of rheumatoid arthiritis.  And now as a sophomore in high school, I was set to undergo the same shit.  How wonderful, I thought--should have recognized this as Omen Number 1.

   My left knee healed and I never had a serious problem with it while in high school.  However, later in life it would give me plenty of trouble.  Once or twice a year it would lock up and swell, usually after some type of physical activity.  Eventually in 1978, some 15 years after the initial injury, and while playing softball with a team of coworkers from the US Army Corps of Engineers, I injured the knee bigtime and had 80% of the meniscus removed by a Baltimore Orthopedic Surgeon named Dr. Leo Courtney.  After surgery, the knee was never the same--I had lost a substantial amount of flexibility and range of movement.  However, I was still able to run and play most sports with some degree of success.

     The second knee injury came in my junior year.  It was a sprained right knee, and was not as serious as the injury the year before.  There was little swelling in the knee joint, and it healed completely within several weeks.  I was able to play enough that year to letter.  This was Omen Number 2.

     The third knee injury occurred in my senior year during the Norview game, which was played during Halloween week in 1963.  The opposing defensive back hit me very low on the front of my right leg, actually below the knee on the shinn, just as I turned my head to look in (catch) a screen pass.  Unfortunately, my right foot was planted firmly in the turf just as the tackler made contact.  The force of the hit caused my leg to bow backwards and did major damage to the knee joint and lower leg.  Many spectators thought my leg had been broken.  It was a legal hit, but it was freakish in nature, and the timing had to be just right for the injury to occur.  My foot had to be planted just as the hit was delivered, and the point of impact had to be very low.  There was major swelling of the knee joint, and a rather large contusion (or bruise) just below the knee (on the shinn) that had to be lanced and drained, again by Dr. Carney.  He was beginning to suspect I might end up like my Father, except at a much younger age.  As a result of this injury, I was forced to walk on crutches for several weeks, and missed the last 4 games of the season.  Obviously, this was Omen Number 3.

     Luckily, after the right knee healed, I never had a problem with it, and to this day, some 50 years later, I can do anything I want on my right knee.  Apparently the hit was directed to the front of the leg and knee, and did not damage cartilage or anything inside the knee joint.  So, even though the right knee was injured twice in high school football, it was my left knee that eventually required surgery, and has caused me the most difficulty.  And of course, I failed to heed all 3 of these (you guessed it) stinking Omens.

 

(1) Many times I wanted to "Terminate" this bastard, but that was handled nicely several years ago by "The Big Guy in the Sky."