The Power of the Phalange

         On Sunday, I hurt my thumb playing volleyball. It was a spectacular set that came my way. Just pure gold. I was in position 4, outside hitter. I am a pretty decent spiker (Better known as a killer (because you should be getting the point by putting the ball down (get it? (put it down..?)))))

Right there, the number 4 position.

          I got an AWESOME set from one of my teammates. He set it quickly to match my light jumping style. Feeling the spike as something that should have happened naturally, I swung at it with my right hand. (I am right handed (for the record)). The set wasn't intended for that hand; it was supposed to go to my left hand so I could hammer it down (and get the kill)! I spiked at the ball (technically, I wasn't spiking at the ball) at full force. My thumb was pushed all the way back. As soon as I horribly executed the play feeling my thumb, not in the right place, I grabbed it (while midair still if I may add that) and grimaced.

The point was valid. (cheap but valid)