Why Everyone Should Wear A Knee Brace
Christy Vutam | March 1, 2014Remember when something weird happened with my knee back in August? Welp, guess what? I tore my anterior cruciate ligament.
Yes. That’s right. I tore my ACL.
For whatever reason, I can still play tennis. I mean, come on. It’s gotta be a pretty, pretty darn big deal for me not to play tennis, amirightoramiright?
What? Is tearing one’s ACL a big deal or something?
Remarkably, I’ve never had to stop playing tennis in all that time. The only thing that would happen is once a tennis outing, I would twist on my knee oddly and experience sharp pain. After taking a minute to walk it out, I would go right back to playing without any more incident the remainder of the match.
I don’t know how I’m still able to play tennis while other people aren’t as fortunate after ACL tears – my sister has admonished me about continuing to play so much, something about adrenaline numbing the pain…except there is no pain, I promise! – but I’ll probably end up tearing something else knee-related and will definitely need to have surgery then so it’s really all the same in the end. Is how the logic goes in my head.
To prolong the time till the inevitable knee explosion, I am now wearing a custom-fitted knee brace.
WHOOOOOOOOOOOO-HOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
The knee brace has become my greatest weapon. Some people can intimidate foes with the shots they show off in the warm-up – a powerful or shifty serve, controlled volleys, or groundstrokes with a hint of topspin or a dash of slice (I’m looking at you, Brandy Jacobi 😛 ). Those things scare the spicy jalapeños out of me.
But now finally, I have something to throw back at them!
When my opponents see me ambling onto the tennis court with that monster knee brace covering nearly the entirety of my right leg, their eyes light up.
“She can’t move.”
“We got the sacrifice line.”
“This is going to be easy.”
Who knew that tearing my ACL would add such a deliciously advantageous aspect to my tennis game? I didn’t even have to work for it!
Perfectly able-bodied players believe they should just be dominating the team that’s wearing a knee brace. My opponents have got me pegged at an impossibly low bar. I simply have to breathe and I’ve surpassed their expectations. Of all the things I can’t do on the tennis court, breathing is not one of them. I’m so good at breathing that I can do it in my sleep.
That last sentence is awful. So awful. And yet so awesome.
Without meaning to, I’ve successfully carried out one of the best ways to win a recreational tennis match: mess with your opponents’ fragile minds…cause if I meant to mess with their minds, I would have developed a limp to go along with the brace and I’d hobble uneasily in between points. 😉
I actually did play a flex league singles match earlier this year against someone who was limping noticeably when retrieving a stray ball late in the second set. Of course I licked my chops at the sight. I ended up screwing away four nonconsecutive match points and lost. Come to think of it, she didn’t limp again the rest of the evening…
What my opponents don’t know is that my knee brace and impaired knee don’t affect me in any way except it takes me an extra two minutes to change for tennis these days. In fact, my brace has turned out to be the source of my superpowers. That or I have a false sense of invincibility when I strap in my robotic leg warmer. Nothing can hurt me now! I’M WEARING A KNEE BRACE, BIT- -ES!
As the doubles match unfolds and I’m playing and running like someone with two good knees, my opponents inevitably will lose their minds. “How are we not killing the person who has a torn ACL??” they’ll sputter to each other. “Why aren’t we winning games in four straight points?”
“How is she possibly moving around the court like that with that on her???”
It’ll eat at them and eat at them that the ball will disrespectfully come back to them when hit in the general direction of someone with a ginormous knee ornament, defying all logic of the Earth and Heavens and then…
Then they’ll start doing something really silly.
They’ll hit the ball to my partner.
Don’t tell my opponents, but they should never hit the ball to her. My doubles partner is amazing. That’s why she’s my partner. 😀
I’m telling you, knee braces should be profiled as a tennis accessory must-have (I’m thinking about blinging out my knee brace to really make it my own). Playing tennis in one has done simply amazing wonders for my game. I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time trying to master silly things like strokes. It’s finally set in for me. This is weekend tennis. Solid strokes are unnecessary for winning weekend tennis.
Instead: Wear a knee brace = win the mind game = win the match. Ta-dah!
Weird how tennis coaches don’t teach this strategy in drills…
Hah…I will provide all the sparkles in the world if you want to bling out your brace.
Can I please request different colored sparkles?!? 🙂
You know what my brace has been missing? A bling-shaped unicorn!
Oh no!!! Or, maybe congratulations? Not sure really which is most appropriate.
What I will say for sure is this: there is nothing more frustrating and humiliating than losing a match to someone who is (or appears to be) significantly injured. This has happened to me three times in my playing career: twice during tournament play to a guy in his early 60’s who walked with a pronounced limp. He had TWO knee braces and did not have the ability to grip his racquet with either the ring finger or the pinky finger of his racquet hand. From the moment he walked on the court, all I heard about was how bad shape he was in, how he had had a double bypass a few years ago, how he was having to switch racquets as the match progressed to compensate for his worsening ability to grip the racquet. Then, before I know it, I lose to the guy. And then I do it again a few months later. Maddening. How much of it was my under estimating him? How much was my feeling bad for him? How much of it was me letting down my guard? I don’t know. What I do know about this guy is that he and his brother regularly win tournaments all over the State. He will not play league tennis for fear of the USTA raising his ranking. He’s a really smart cookie, though, and I suspect he poor mouths specifically to put people off their guard.
The limp, I believe, is genuine. The problem gripping the racquet, though…I don’t know about that one. He used his gripping problem as an excuse to change racquets mid game several times during his service game. His first ball with the new racquet each time was a service winner. Coincidence? I think not. I shouldn’t have let him change his racquet mid game. I should have made him wait. Man did I hate playing that guy.
The other time it happened was in mixed doubles against a tall, slightly overweight Serena Williams clone. She complained and complained and complained about how she didn’t feel good, her feet hurt, etc… She would hobble around looking like she didn’t know what was going on or care until the ball appeared near her and then she would absolutely crush it – almost as if she had been waiting he whole life for just such an opportunity. I must have been really off my game that day because I honestly felt bad for her the whole match and never did catch on to what was happening until afterwards when my partner woke me up to the reality of what had been going on. I had been played. 🙁
So, yes. What you have stumbled on here is a tried and true method of psychological manipulation known by several names: The Samaritan’s Trap, The Thief’s Trap, and The Highwayman’s Revenge, just to name a few. In my case, I was the Samaritan who was lured in out of concern for another player only to be punished repeatedly for doing so. In your case (The Thief’s Trap or The Highwayman’s Revenge), you appear weak and helpless at first so the opponent tries to take advantage of your condition. Fortunately, for you, the tables are turned and you are victorious. You, the Highwayman, have had your revenge – congrats!
Aaaah, psychology. ain’t it grand?
Oh, Clif! I agree 100% there’s nothing more frustrating and humiliating. Losing to the limper was a great feeling. 🙁 Because of that match, I’ve decided to look at any future opponent who appears affected in any way as faking it. Not because I think the limper was faking it (that line was written in good fun 😀 ). So that I can stay focused and play well.
Please let me know – or you could post about it! – if you ever get bumped down and get to play Keyser Söze again and how it goes. Third time’s the charm!
I didn’t state this outright in the post – so thanks for giving me the forum to 🙂 – but I don’t think I do anything or say anything that would give the impression my knee bothers me. In fact, if my opponents ask about the brace, I tell them the truth: I tore my ACL. I have not had surgery, yet. I’m totally fine for tennis. I don’t know why that is. Let’s play!
Now whether they can’t see past the impressive-looking knee brace and (still) think I shouldn’t be playing as well as someone with two good knees is totally on them. Thus the post. 😉
No worries, Christy! I had no doubt that your intentions were pure from the beginning. And your point is an excellent one. Anything that makes your opponent underestimate you can definitely be an advantage. I love combo and mixed doubles where I have the lower rating of the pair. It always gives me more chances at the ball. You just keep rocking that leg brace as long as you have to and if they choose to underestimate you then it’s all on them. I like your suggestion of always imagining that they’re faking it. That sounds like a great way to handle it.
I’ll second Anita’s comment, too. “Supremely entertaining” is a great way of describing your writing style. Awesome! Don’t change a thing.
And yes, I will most definitely let you know if I end up in a rematch with my nemesis. I expect the outcome would be quite a bit different if we were to meet again. Third time’s a charm!
Certifiably crazy. Yet supremely entertaining.
As long as the crazy is supremely entertaining has always been my motto. 😀