Tragedy averted, almost

On a day when I should be waxing unlyrical about the appalling air quality, I have to recount a moment of horror, during which I managed to kick the plum of my loins fair and square in the face.  God, I wince just thinking about it now.

First of all, no lasting harm has been done. I write this almost 72 hours later, and the dentist gave him the all clear. That'll teach us to play soccer in the house. Mrs. Ottawacker must have told us a dozen times...

Anyway, playing we were, and Ottawacker Jr. had just made a fine save - so I stepped in to score the rebound. I turned and was about to backheel it into the empty net when the back of my foot, describing a perfect arc towards where the ball had been, came into contact with Ottawacker Jr.'s head. Cue wailing and gnashing of tee... oh, maybe not. Anyway, it was a proper kick in a proper sore spot... 

He dealt with it pretty well, in fairness - much better that I did. There was a little blood from a split lip (very minor)... fortunately his face stopped any real damage from occurring... 

When we had all calmed down and Mrs Ottawacker was speaking to me again, we ran through the incident. He had spotted the loose ball and, as all good goalies are wont to do, dived in head first to stop me scoring. At least that is what he said he did. We had him checked out by our neighbour, the nurse, and there was nothing in terms of concussion or fractured jaw... so 30 minutes later we were out the door heading for his Tuesday night soccer match against Gloucester Hornets. 

He's fine. I'm out of the doghouse. All I need to do now is get over it.