Ice and Advil.

"Yes, ice. That would be a good idea. What do you think?" says Dr. U-Think? when Plotnik finally gets hold of him Monday evening. At some point during the last basketball game of the morning on Sunday, Plot felt a pain in his heel that only got worse as the game went on. He could have, should have, thought about, wanted to say "That's it for me, guys," but his team had just won the game before, and there were only 10 guys left, including Plot. If he'd have gone home, the game would have been over for everyone, and there would have been at least a few thinking: "He let us down. He's old."

So he played, and when the game was over and his team had won? lost? he grabbed his bag, hopped back over the fence, drove home, took a shower, and realized he was going to have trouble walking.

At dinner Sunday night it was harder than it should have been to dodge the hobos in the Mission. Monday morning, it was worse, which was when Plotnik called Dr. U-Think?.

The truth is, the older The Great Plotnik gets, the more these seemingly inconsequential things happen. A right heel that hurts to walk on means pressure on the left knee, and that's his most vulnerable spot. If he tweaks his left knee again, it'll only be a few weeks 'til the right one acts up. This is like lose Vietnam, lose India, then Europe, only this time it's true.

Plottie has always figured he'd crash and burn on the court, but has never thought about what is more likely: he'll just twist something and tweak something else and turn something else and bruise something else and when all the twists and tweaks and turns and bruises add up he'll be playing billiards or riding around in a golf cart.

But in the meantime, there's ice. Ice and Advil. It's amazing what good medicines these two are. Even Dr. U-Think? said so. "Advil, yes. That's a good idea. And ice. Yes. Ice and Advil. What do you think?"