I skied for a rebound, grabbed the ball, came down with it. That was the last thing I remember before blacking out. When I came to, there was blood everywhere, somebody was holding a towel to my face. My head throbbed, I felt like I had been stabbed. This is the story of an opponent who bit me in the head.
I was 8-years-old, playing in a meaningless scrimmage for my rec team. I was a damn fine player, probably the best in the city league. I once scored 19 points in under two quarters (no joke I have the video). If I had been allowed to play the whole game, I could have gone for 40.
Anyway, point being, I was really good. Parents started to take notice, coaches game-planned for me. I was a freaking 8-year-old phenom. Which brings us to the game in question.
The opposing coach put this little shit named Kyle on me. Kyle was super aggressive. He was a spaz, He was a hack. I’m convinced, to this day, that Kyle snorted ritalin through a slurpee straw. He was one of those kids who always got too close when guarding you. He head-butted, he elbowed, he slapped—-he was just a terrible human being. Also, he he had buckteeth (which factors in heavily here).
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I was at the free throw line when my teammate went up for a layup. His name was Ryan. He was a very bad player. He didn’t score that season. Ryan was puny and always threw the ball way too hard at the backboard. His shots were rarely close. Like, if he made contact with the rim, his parents cheered. It was a sad state of affairs for Ryan.
Anyway, Ryan’s shot hit the very top of the backboard and bounced on the front of the rim. I had timed my jump perfectly, had the ball in my hand at the peak of my vertical. As far as little kid rebounds go, this was NBA JAM shit.
As soon as I landed, I saw a blur, a sudden pain. I blacked out momentarily. Now, this was the 80s, nobody gave a shit about concussions back then. I had probably suffered one but no one really cared. When I came to, there was blood pouring out of my head, right above the eye. If you’ve been cut there, you know what I’m talking about. The amount of blood is unreal.
I was sure I had been elbowed and I was sure it was Kyle. Well, I was 1 for 2. About 10 feet away from me was Kyle laying on the ground, screaming in pain. His tooth was basically sideways. I’m not lying when I say it was perpendicular to his lip. It was utterly disgusting. Kyle was an ugly human being before but man, dude was a gargoyle right about then.
It then hit me like a ton of bricks—Kyle bit me—sorta, kinda. In reality, he stabbed me with his front tooth. What a freakin’ jackass.
They carried Kyle off the court, his dad took him to the hospital. Meanwhile, I sat there stunned. Did a human being actually use his teeth as a weapon on me? WTF? My mom demanded I go to the hospital. I recall her saying something about “rabies.” I love my mom, I really do, but she says stupid stuff sometimes.
I ignored her.
Coach Gus put two band-aids on my head. Made a huge ‘X’ out of it. Said if I was ok, I could go back in the game. So hell yeah I went back into the game. Finished it like a goddamn hero.
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I went to the hospital afterward. They were really confused when my mom told them a human bit me. But whatever, stupid nurse—stop judging Kyle. They fixed me up good, I think they gave me a shot of penicillin or tetanus or something. I don’t remember.
That was 20+ years ago. I still carry the scar today. The scar from Kyle, the 8-year-old Luis Suarez.