A Close Encounter

I had this really fantastic interaction with a gorgeous, sweaty stranger yesterday, all thanks to ultimate frisbee. He was seriously so beautiful. A fine specimen of a man. It was such a weird, intimate moment and I’d like to remember it for all time, so it’s going in the blog.

This weekend I played in frisbee tournaments on both Saturday and Sunday. I played quite a bit on Saturday, but I’m having problems with my hips, so I was only able to play part of one game on Sunday. I spent the rest of the afternoon on the sideline under a canopy, nursing my injured body and cheering on my teammates.

During the third game of the day, a man from another team came over and said there was a guy who was really hot and needed shade. Would it be okay if he laid down under our canopy? Of course! I looked over to where the kid was sitting and he had a towel draped over his head, but as far as I could tell, he seemed to be doing fine. He looked like a young, robust man, so I figured he just needed a break.

A couple men walked him over and he laid down on the grass beside me. One of them had to go notify the tournament director of his status for liability reasons, and the other needed to go find more water. Since I wasn’t playing, I was the only person in the area who wasn’t busy doing something, so I went to his side.

I thought maybe he was overreacting at first because I didn’t realize how messed up he was! He started saying he wasn’t feeling good. He was nauseous and thought he was going to vomit. I passed him my Gatorade and he took a sip, but he wasn’t feeling like he’d be able to keep it down.

One of his teammates returned to help and we elevated his legs and began unlacing his cleats to try to cool him off. He had a really horrible leg spasm and my instinct, thanks to my mom, the massage therapist, was to start rubbing his leg – his beautiful, muscular thigh.

You see where this is going.

His legs and arms were shaking uncontrollably, so I started massaging indiscriminately. I got him a banana and gave him a chunk to eat. He couldn’t raise his head anymore, so I was pouring Gatorade into his mouth, rubbing his arms and legs. He said his neck was hurting, his head was hurting, so then I started massaging his neck. I kept telling him to focus on his breathing and that he was going to be fine.He kept looking up at me with these big, puppy dog eyes, seeking a connection and comfort. He grabbed my hand and was holding onto me like his life depended on it.

He was still burning up, so someone came over with a jug of cold water and started pouring it over his head, his torso and legs. Someone had pulled his jersey up and his chest was now exposed, drenched and trembling. I was massaging his wet, naked gorgeous, 20 year old body. Yes, unfortunately, only 20. The kid can’t even drink legally, but damn, he sure was pretty.

He was taken off the field by paramedics after about 15 minutes. His brother stopped by our tent later to thank us and said they gave him an IV and he is doing fine.

How often does that happen? How often to do you get to massage an amazingly beautiful, wet stranger?

Not often enough, that’s for damn sure. Thank you ultimate frisbee!!!!