Eye of the Tiger

We were on the field again in our maroon-and-black plaid skirts.  It was still the sport’s tradition but bloomers had been replaced with cotton shorts from the Army surplus store. In the future, the cotton shorts would improve to spandex.

My sister was an animal that had a passion for field hockey. I was a sprinter that loved to dribble the ball down the field. Every once in awhile, we both got stopped in our tracks. On this particular fall day, we Panthers fouled and the other team got a free hit. We stilled in our cleats, facing the now opponent’s ball readying to steal it back.

The result was another foul appropriately named ‘dangerous hit’.

I only remember a loud pop and falling to the ground. My sister remembers me rolling onto my back and watching in horror as my eyes instantly turned purple and red.

This girly-thought sport, more dangerous than most, had produced another contusion and concussion. Field hockey injuries were still a tradition despite shin guards and mouth pieces. In the future, the safety of the game would improve to include cages.

They would have protected my eyes but they couldn’t have contained my sister’s animalistic fury to finish the game and get a Panther win.

I didn’t hit your deadline but thanks for the blog battle!

“I” am the “eye” entry!