What you’re not expecting I drowned in the smell of stagnant sweat with each painful deep breath that climbed up my nostrils. The dirt on the hardwood floor, left from the pep-rally earlier that morning, rubbed my face like a used piece of sandpaper as a writhed in pain on the floor. The intense pain I had felt started to slowly grow numb like a cheap piece of gum. The quite murmur of mumbled voices crowded my ears as if I was in back in the cathedral I visited in Salsbury over the summer. I opened my eyes for a moment, trying to figure out what happened, but as I did everything grew hazy like looking through an old barn window. Everything moved slow, then darkness. I found out the next day that I broke my ankle in two places, tore two ligaments, and a tendon. Aftermy second surgery and some very slow rehab sessions I finally got the call I was expecting. The number was listed as paradise in my cell phone. The number that had been the source of such excitement before now caused me to get nauseous, because I already knew what the conversation was about. Bluntly the coach informed me that they were not extending me a scholarship and very remorselessly wished me luck. At first I thought it was the end of the world and it took me a while to get over, but later while attending a local private university in Abilene I met my wife. I thought that I knew where my life was going and where I would end up, but after a few hills and turns I ended up where I wanted to be.