Track Limits

Brazil

I remember seeing my teammate Frannie get knocked out cold on our senior night at NYU. After 4 years of watching teammates go down with knees, bloody faces from a nose or lip, and pulled whatevers, that's the one that stuck with me. Frannie jumped up for a header at midfield after a goal kick and so did her opponent. The opposing player reaching and smashing her head into the back of Frannie's. Gravity moved Frannie in a way I had never seen before. A limp body pulled to the ground is not a comfortable thing to watch as limbs fold awkwardly as they smash into the ground. Frannie landed on her back and was still as I quickly ran up to her. I looked down at my friend and teammate who had their eyes closed and was not flailing around in pain. This was far more terrifying than someone yelling out. I fell to my knees next to Frannie beyond anxious but I knew I shouldn't touch her. I yelled her name as the trainer finally made it to us.

Frannie's eyes opened slowly as the trainer knelt beside me and a teammate grabbed me to try and help me up. Her eyes were lost as low grumbles came out of her mouth. I stood to my feet and by the time my teammates and I grabbed waters on the side of the field, Frannie was being cautiously stood to her feet. A terrifying moment ended in a few minutes of confusion, a knot in the back of her head, and Frannie getting to sit out of a cool down practice the next day. After watching her body become unresponsive, she walked away with a sore and the trainer convinced she wasn't even concussed. Frannie was able to laugh it off quickly in the next few days. The girl knocked out cold who ended up being fine. For me, it was probably the scariest sports moment that I had witnessed until today.

My heart was in my throat as I ran through the process of elimination from the garage. The tv I was half paying attention to showing the distinct pop to a car that had failed suspension, a flash of red going off track, and the immediate waving of a red flag making its way around the track. Then there was the worst thing, silence in the garage as everyone stared at the tvs that were not showing the crash again. It wouldn't be shown until there was confirmation the driver was okay though, we all knew that.

The flash of red and eerie quiet in the Ferrari garage made me very aware it was one of our drivers. I frantically grabbed my headphones that the team let me listen into the race for my articles if needed. The mid race lag that allowed me to have a break from the constant chatter in my ears was now the most prized possession as my hands pushed the headphones tighter against my ears.

... Are you okay?

No response and no answer on who was okay. I stood to my feet walking to the quiet corner of the garage that led to the hallway towards the paddock. No one was around with everyone frozen on the TVs at the front.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed back into the wall.

Charles?

A whimper escaped my lips and my knees gave sliding me down the wall to the floor. I pulled my knees into my chest completely helpless.

Charles are you okay?

I buried my head into my knees squeezing my eyes shut trying to fight the tears that were forming. The silence was the loudest thing I have ever heard.

The sound that came seconds later I swore could have come from me. The gasping sound then rhythm of hard breathing was confirmed coming from the headphones while I relied on only my sense working right now, hearing. A moan filled my ears that broke me, the tears now sliding down my face.

I mmmm. I don't know. Ugh. I don't know what turn I'm in. What's going on?

It was impossible not to hear the pain in Charles voice as pauses and groans came through the feed. The confusion was the even scarier element.

Charles this is Fred. Are you okay? Please confirm.

Coughs came first. I need help. I blacked out there but I guess I'm okay.