in the end, the surgeon would still carve into my patellar tendon

because it’s the gold standard, what all athletes use, but doc’s words only echo in my mind as mom and i look at the x-ray of my shredded acl ligament torn on two ends like frayed sidewall string. i still taste wet turf pellets from when i collapsed, feel my knee buckle like a belt, hear the POP that’s not a ricochet off the pipe. i already want to quit this goddamn sport for rewarding me like this. you’ll be back to lacrosse in six months, an eternity then some. after the operation, i wrestle with my bed for comfort, soaking white sheets when the stabbing pain slaps me awake, only the advil won’t do, but mom and dad locked the oxycontin in the safe so i wouldn’t get hooked. when i can’t stand on my own, i hide my shame. when the electrotherapy shocks lightning through my nervous system, i hide my pain. people stare when i shed the crutches and hobble around dragging my atrophied appendage. the seniors cuss at me while coach makes them sprint down-and-backs cause their new water boy hasn’t filled up their green gatorade bottles fast enough. only if they knew their luck. only if they knew how badly i want to run with them, how badly i want to dodge and shoot and pass and cut, but the thought makes me lightheaded, the turf monster lurks under the surface, ready to snap my new acl again and again. No, don’t run, walk, my PT tells me. Slowly at first, the other stuff will come later. Ramp up the stim, force a mind-muscle connection. Don’t run, walk. Find a comfortable pace, the other stuff will come later. My patellar tendon graft is nailed in. It’s stronger than I think. Don’t run, walk. Slowly at first, the other stuff will come later. It always does. Recovery isn’t hammering a nail, it’s playing wall ball—chipping away at brick speck by speck, releasing and catching in controlled motions before fluidity, so pain becomes comfort and comfort becomes confidence, relearning what the body already knows.

Jonathan Mann was born and raised in Michigan, and is a graduate of Hope College (where he also played men's lacrosse). He is currently pursuing an MFA at Butler University. His work has been featured in Opus—The Hope College Art & Literary Magazine and his nonfiction has been anthologized in plain china.