Stephen Strasburg and My Toenail

What started out as a good day almost turned tragic. I had just began to work on a few things up at Freed-Hardeman where I am a graduate assistant. Around 11:40 in the AM I decided to make the trek from Grad. Studies in Education to Lion's Pride in order to get a drink. Right before I go into the old student center I called my wife and as I was saying goodbye to her I was in act of opening the door while also focusing on some waspers that were flying nearby. I did not realize that my flippin foot was right under the door and my 2nd toe (the tall one beside the big one) toenail basically detached from my body. To put it in a percentage it was attached at somewhere around 11.7%. I told Courtney what happened and that she might not ever hear from me again. I then procedeed to walk back to the basement of the Gardner Center (256 feet) under my own power and remove the toenail that was hanging on in much the same way as the Celtics are now with my own two hands. Honestly, one of the most remarkable things I have ever done.

Thankfully Dr. Saunders and Mrs. Holley recognized that we had a national crisis on our hands (I was pretending that I was dying, maybe I wasn't pretending, I cannot remember) and they called Coach Corley to come bandage me up. When he poured the hydrogen peroxide on what use to be my toenail, did I cry? Nope. Despite the fact that I handle pain like the Pittsburgh Pirates handle Stephen Strasburg (I strike out every time, even on a change up, nice job Delwyn Young) I endured the pain with honor and my shirt in mouth so I would not scream. I stayed at work all day and then walked approximately a half a mile home. I don't like to compare myself to local legends but could Bufford Pusser have handled the pain in the same way I did? Maybe or maybe not.