When I was in the 9th grade, I broke my arm at the skating rink. It was a Church thing that I was pretty much forced to go to so that I could meet new kids. My dad had been stationed overseas, so my mom moved back home to be close to her parents while my dad was away. For some reason we couldn’t go.
So, I went to the stupid thing. I had never skated in my life. Within 10 minutes I was on the floor with a broken right wrist. My uncle Jim, who was a senior at the time, drove me to the hospital. They set my wrist and put a cast on it.