As a juggler, I have battled gravity for years and won, but today, gravity got a 1up. Playing basketball in the weekly Future lunchtime game, I came down hard and felt a movement in my ankle that can only be described onomatopoeically as KLOK! Sort of like cracking your knuckles, but it was my entire ankle.

No swelling, no shooting pain, so it’s not a sprain or a break — just radiating anger from all the things around my ankle that really didn’t want to move that way, let alone so suddenly. And they let me know every time I put weight on it.

Thus endeth my basketball career. I have gotten a little more hurt every week and I finally have to say, enough. The other guys are hereby the alpha males; I will comfort myself by making awesome armor in World of Warcraft. Unlike the other guys, I have two jobs — fake journalist and fake rock star — and while the exercise was supposed to help counteract the sedentary effects of the former, I need to not put myself at risk for the latter.

And sure enough, I have Jude’s farewell gig tomorrow night. Doh!

The shoes, however, will live on.

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