Give 'em the finger
I am not a big sports fan. Legend has it that Dan took me to a Cubs-White Sox game a few years back and that, amongst the chaos and mass rioting of a tied, bases-loaded bottom-of-the-9th-inning, he turned to find me passed out...asleep. Not a beer nor frozen vodka lemonade had been consumed.
The reason? I was stone-cold bored because my then-favorite athlete, pitcher Antonio Alfonseca was not playing. Why was he my favorite, you might ask? Oh, only because the man has TWELVE FINGERS and TWELVE TOES.
You can't exactly count the digits here, but trust me. There are six.
I mean, how can you not get psyched about a baseball pitcher with extra digits? It's downright un-American, if not incredibly un-PC. Once he was traded, I lost interest in all things sports.
Until now.
Have you heard about this freaking Trevor Wikre character?
This guy is a 6'3", 280-lb offensive guard for the Mesa State College Mavericks in Grand Junction, CO. On September 30, he injured his pinkie finger during practice, catching it in the jersey of a teammate. It felt a little funny so he took off his glove and - hey! waddyouknow?! - the bone was jutting out through the skin. The trainer told him to stop because, um, your finger is FUBAR as they would say in Saving Private Ryan (not to be confused with Shaving Ryan's Privates). The team's orthopedic surgeon deemed it a season-ending injury that would require surgery and pins to keep it in place, with no real guarantee it wouldn't eventually need to be amputated.
So what did Wikre do?
Oh, he cut it off.
I mean, not like in Saw V or anything. A doctor did it in a sterile environment after confirming the damage to the tendons and ligaments was indeed severe enough to warrant such drastic action. That little piggie was sent straight to the golden goalposts in the sky and the football nut was back on the field faster than you can say "Superbowl Sunday." He quickly retrained himself to throw the perfect spiral. Lovey-dovey texts to his fiancée, however, now read something like "i rellly ove you, bby - hy rent you ritng e bck?"
"I'm just short one," Wikre told the AP . "But this game means that much to me. This team means that much to me...This was the best way to get me back out there. There are worse things in the world -- a pinkie is not that bad in my mind."
True, I'd rather lose a pinkie than most appendages or organs. But I can't help but wonder whether I'd ever be hardcore enough to sacrifice life and limb - literally - for something I was passionate about. Am I actually that obsessed about anything? I mean, sure I love Cadbury Creme Eggs but I'm about to Van Gogh an ear for them.
What are your thoughts? Are his actions admirable? I suppose it is refreshing to see someone so unwaveringly dedicated to his career. Then again, it's Division II football and who knows if he'll be playing for a rilly awesome team like the 2007 Dolphins? (Don't ask me how I know that.) What if tossing the old pigskin (ew - I just made myself throw up in my mouth a little bit) will pan out and he has to become an accountant? That pinkie could come in real handy once tax season rolls around. And how undainty will he look while sipping tea with his future daughter and her dolls?! This isn't like having your finger shot off while defending our country or cutting your arm off to escape a harrowing mountain-climbing disaster. It was a choice.
On this crisp fall Monday morning, the air full of promise and the whisper of teeny tiny virgin snow flurries crystallizing up above, I ask you: What would YOU cut off your pinkie for?
"At least I can still go to market, eat roast beef and stay home."
Have an beautiful, upliting, passionate day everyone!!!
