GYMNASTICS.

The gymnastics are so far over my pay grade that I must simply goggle at those that make those moves look so easy. I can’t even speak to their prowess as have my own demons to face and like the storm clouds billowing around spook central on Ghostbusters, the Monday Night Football stars are aligning tonight for the annual moment I most dread…

I was late for work the other day and had to jump into the Crossfit Shower where upon I was confronted with a demon from my past boldly emblazoned across the shower curtain before me…the 49’s logo in all its ignominy. I froze in shock as the sweep of time hurled me back 40 years…

In the 60’ies my old-school curmudgeonly pediatrician retired and was replaced with the first female doctor that I had ever seen at the ripe age of 9. Although she was quite professional, the one bedside manner unique to my medical experience to date was that at my annual physical for school, she would have to examine ‘down there’…

It was rough enough when the guy doctor did it but at least he looked as displeased and miserable as I was feeling when he did it.
This new pediatrician fresh out of medical school had gotten the impression that it was necessary to say something while the ‘event’ was taking place in an effort to distract the subjectee from the upcoming utter humiliation.

Her solution was to put on one rubber glove on (at nine years old, the intensity of the moment has caused all exact inflexions and actions to be edictally memorized by all cellular structures in my frontal cortex), grab the elastic hem of my tighty-whities and while pulling upwards, look directly into my eyes with a loopy grin and maniacal intensity and say, “How about those Niners?!”

Every time.

The elastic would rise in slow motion horror while I pondered the far reaching sociological, psychological and scatological resonances of that singular question. She would then break eye contact, and began her laser scan of all things sacred below the belt. Like a gemologist inspecting a particular nugget in the darkest heart of the Congo, she would utilize her eye loop at a range of 6 inches cataloguing the various imperfections that assuredly would be her focal point of merriment when next lunching with the nurses. (At least that is what a newly minted nine year old imagined happening)

I physically cringed each time my mom put the next sixth month checkup date on our family calendar knowing that yet again I would have to endure that most existential of questions… “How about those Niners ?!” which continues to bang around in my head bruising my psyche to this day long after those medieval visits have passed.
Is there no common decency left in New Age doctors? ‘First, do no harm’ I believe Hippocrates said. What should have been a few seconds of focused psychic discomfort by mutually unwilling partners in this distasteful act was replaced with a lifetime of introspective wallowing about the intersecting proclivities and prurient health of a team of professional athletes and the physical shortfalls of my ‘down there’.

Living on the West Coast, there is not a month that goes by that some helpful conversationalist will utilize “How about those Niners?” as a conversation starter at which point my hands get clammy and I grab the front of my jeans to ensure that my fly isn’t down. How come she couldn’t have said something more non-sequiter like, “How about tort reform?” Or “How about Republic of China’s imperial designs on Taiwan? How about those Niners? Come on!

The Niners were and always will be my team. While they gear up for another heroic effort to bring their faithful to the Super Bowl promised land, I’ll continue to root for them with the same zealotry I had when I was nine…I’ll just do it tonight on State Street with a beer in one hand the other jammed into the pocket of my trousers.
Curse you new-school healer.

(I know, I know, probably not the best use of this blog but jeez if you can’t speak to family about your problems, who can you speak to?: Go Niners!!!) Aug

Amazing video! Go Niners.

I Heart Gymnastics!! As I watched this clip..I grabbed my shoulders with and cried with the memory of cartilage that use to be there… male gymnasts as HOT…. 2nd to male Crossfitters of course lol!

go raiders