You Can't Spell 'Monday' Without 'Horrific, Nausea-Inducing Injury'

Wilfred Bouma of Aston Villa had a bad weekend. Oh, sure, you might have had a lackluster weekend: a few rounds of laundry, maybe reluctantly helping a friend move, some desultory purchasing of consumer goods followed up by a mediocre movie night. (Neat trick, X-Files movie: you made Russian re-capitation experiments boring.)

Okay, maybe I was the one who had a lackluster weekend highlighted by three-hour naps. But it certainly couldn't qualify as bad, since it still beat nearly twisting my ankle off the end of my leg. (Warning: This is slightly graphic. If you've just eaten breakfast, you may wanna wait 20 minutes.)

Bouma, shockingly, did not break his leg here: doctors pronounced his apparently maimed leg as being a mere dislocated ankle, meaning Bouma could actually play football again this year. But enough about him: I didn't even get drunk this weekend. Not once. I'll just let you decide who the real victim of fate was here.

This post originally appeared on the Sporting Blog. For more, see The Sporting Blog Archives.