Every week, I treat Saturday morning football practice as a ritual.

Apply sunblock. Check.

Run routes hard. Check.

Jam new finger(s). Check. Check. Check. Check.

I have long, skinny fingers that are prone to getting jammed every time I’m near a football.

How? It takes talent, and I’m the only one on the team with this gift.

Last Saturday, we were still warming up for practice when I jammed the middle and ring fingers on my right hand.

My middle finger really took a beating.

It was ridiculous. It hurt to use a fork. It hurt to brush my teeth. It hurt to wash my hair. It hurt to type.

I hate icing. But I did it for my digits.

By Sunday, my knuckles were balloons turning blue and purple.

From now on, I will tape—my entire body like a mummy if I have to.