Every athlete has experienced dirty play -- either on the delivering or receiving end. Especially among children, with their lack of discipline and coordination, unsportsmanlike and unconscionably violent acts are universal. This has been a topic of discussion all week among SB Nation folks, so here is a roundup of some our worst stories of dirtiness done to and by us (mostly by). Please share your own, as well.
What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever experienced while playing sports?
Jennifer Nicholson-USA TODAY Sports
So, when I moved up to Wisconsin I started playing lacrosse with a men’s club team out here. The sport is still growing in the state, and that means that outside of the few other local clubs (in Minnesota, Illinois), we mostly played college club teams. I hadn’t played in a while, so I was pretty rusty, but if we’re being honest my skill set is mostly just a) running and b) slashing
Anyway, the season starts (which, since it’s March in Wisconsin, means that it’s about 20 degrees out) and we’re playing a team full of kids who had maybe kinda/sorta played in high school, but for the most part were just out there to have fun.
My first shift has me run on the field just as a pass comes to the sideline, and I lay this 18-year-old, 130-pound ginger kid out with an accidental check to the throat. He curls back over himself, and all I can think is “oh shit, this is bad. I’m sorry man.” But externally I’m just waiting for his teammates to come over and push me away from the blatant and dirty hit I just executed.
Instead, I look up, and two of his teammates are just looking at me with the most hurt expressions I’d ever seen.
It was like I was the Grinch and I was taking away their Christmas tree.
I’ve tried to be a lot more careful since then.
Fought my girlfriend at the time’s brother in his last match when he was a senior (we trained together for years, but never really fought in a real match). Neither of us were gonna go easy so I didn’t tap. Choked me out.
Also literally threw a guy into the bleachers and landed on him but that was an accident.
The best of Adam Stites, who played water polo, which is maybe the dirtiest sport on Earth:
I kicked a player in the neck after he tried to grab my ankle to keep me from having an advantage on a counter attack. The kick happened with less than 10 seconds to go in the game and when he got out of the pool, he collapsed and an ambulance came to the pool deck not long after. I didn’t stick around to hear what exactly happened, but I know he played in a game less than a week later, so I guess he was fine.
Very early in a game I prevented a counter attack by twisting a player’s legs up. He responded by giving me an upper cut that split my lip and knocked a contact lens out of my eye. I injured my thumb when I tried to punch him back and caught the back of his head when he turned.
On a 5-meter penalty shot, the equivalent of a PK in soccer, I somehow managed to kick the player in the ribs when he took his shot under the guise that I was trying to rebound. He didn’t say a thing and just swam back on defense. Of all my dirty plays, I’m still astounded I got away with that one.
Elena Bergeron (soccer), mostly as recounted to her by her mother:
“You don’t remember that time the girl walked on your back?”
(Got our feet tangled vying for a header and we both fell. Getting up, this forward stepped on my back. We had been battling all game.)
“You got up and undercut the shit out of her. She was bleeding and you almost got kicked out of the game. I can’t believe you don’t remember this.”
“I remember thinking, ‘Lord, why did she do that? Elena’s going to kill her.’”
“She stepped on your back and that wasn’t right, so she got what was coming. You had to defend yourself. Before you did that I was about to run onto the field. But then you hit her.”
“I didn’t even know they could skip the yellow card and go right to red.”
Not only did I skip kindergarten and went straight into first grade, but I was an October baby, which meant I was almost two years younger than everyone in my class. Yes, it was a mistake, and one that my mom still feels guilty about, which makes it super easy to borrow money, even as I get closer to 40. ANYWAY, so picture what’s basically a second-grader running around in flag football with a bunch of fourth graders. The difference at that age is substantial, and it’s not like I was a huge dude for my age to start.
One time I ran out for flag football without my flags. Everyone was screaming and yelling for me to come back and get them, and I was apparently oblivious. Everyone kept trying to get my attention, and finally the opposing coach said, “Eh, it’s not like he needs them,” and chortled, super loud. So loud that my mom could hear.
Anyway, the most fucked up part of this story is that my mom told me all this in the car on the way home. Probably because she was so mad, I guess? Over 30 years later, and I still remember how it felt to hear this story.
Also, that coach is probably 80 now, and I totally could kick the shit out of him.
I’m not proud of this. I feel I should say that up front. It was a cold, dark winter night and we had practice ahead of our biggest game of the year. This kid on my team, Peter, wasn’t practicing and I was pissed. This was a big game and he needed to take it seriously. I jogged over to him during a water break and asked “Why aren’t you practicing?” He responded, “ I can’t I got stitches.”
My 8-year-old brain didn’t fully comprehend what he was saying, even though it was abundantly clear. I thought me meant “a stitch,” like “I drank too much water and got a cramp.” It was on me to toughen him up, make him play through the pain, get him ready for Saturday. Following a sequence of play near the sideline I tackled him, hard. More aptly I blindsided him. Standing over his crumpled doubled-over body I said “How’s your stitch? Get in the game!”
He had his appendix out two days earlier and I split his stitches. I wasn’t allowed to play on Saturday.
My senior year of high school in our final game against a conference rival I was guarding a girl who I had been guarding the last four years. She was the WORST. I’ll call her #44. Now, team hair scrunchies were a big deal back then and theirs were way better than ours, we were losing and I was pissed off. #44 didn’t have very long hair, so this stupid hair scrunchie was just sitting on top of her head like a sprout. It put me over the edge. So, in the third quarter when she was going up for an easy layup, I extended my hand and grabbed a hold of that goddamn scrunchie and yanked as hard as I could. #44 went down and so did the scrunchie. Immediately I was called for a technical and got kicked out of the game. I have no regrets.
My best friend, who once dunked on me in sandals at a pick-up basketball game, was our school’s star track star. We were like twins in college and as such, we were naturally competitive with each other. Anyway, during the early days of freshman year, we went roller skating. It was his first time. And it took him a whole 10 minutes to master roller skating. Within 15 minutes he was doing spins and jumping in the air. I was, of course, bitter on principle, and so when I was behind him and he tried to do a jump/twirl thing, I pushed him while he was in the air. He landed on the railing by the side and injured his back. He would miss part of and run injured for a lot of his season. He knows he deserved it.
One time, during high school gym class, we were playing floor hockey. One of the goalies was a really big kid -- big enough to cover most of the goal. But he also looked like he didn’t have a good sense of awareness or balance. So, during the match, I was in a really good position to score a goal. I shot the puck and it flew right into the big kid’s face. And I laughed pretty loud when it happened.
Two things, though:
1. I laughed not because I hit him in the face, but because I did not expect it to land on his face. He didn’t move and the puck didn’t fly that fast. It kinda hung in the air for a bit, so he had plenty of time to move his head ... and he didn’t.
2. I felt really terrible about it afterward. Which is to say, I didn’t actually apologize to him face-to-face, but I felt terrible on his behalf.
Floor hockey’s pretty fun, folks.
My brother, who is two years younger than I am, and I played on our high school tennis team, which was mostly an excuse to leave school early to travel to a match but actually eat a terrible lunch that was not at all conducive to athletic success (the Pizza Hut buffet was a popular choice). I was old enough to drive, but my brother wasn’t, and after we had our team lunch, he was still hungry, because my brother was one of those garbage disposal teens who would go to Subway and order a meatball sub with double meat*. When my brother asked me to stop at Checkers so he could get a double cheeseburger, I refused.
That day, our coach put us on the same doubles team together for the first and last time, because my brother, still pissed that I’d denied him fast food, intentionally lost during the majority of the match. Intentional double faults, hitting returns comically far out of bounds, the works. Never play doubles with your hangry brother.
*This really happened and was very alarming to the sandwich artist, but he had no precedent to argue a double meat meatball sub was against the rules.
Broke a girl’s ankle and listened to her screaming.
That’s my whole story. I don’t care to provide more context
Share your own stories in the comments.
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SB Nation video archives: When sports go horribly wrong (2012)
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