I fly into the boards. Soon I can feel my wrist start to hurt. I try to flex it and I just couldn't, I knew it was broken. It was just any other sunday. I had an early morning hockey game, against a random town. But this time I knew it was going to be different. The day before I got news that our team moved up two divisions. I knew this was trouble because my team was small. And with a bigger division, the bigger the kids are. As the game goes on we take the lead. In the final period of the game my coach tells me to dump the puck. So I slam the puck into the other teams zone. After that, I chase the puck. Me and this other kid are going full speed into the corner. I look to my right just as he lowers his shoulder into me. I put my hand out to brace myself, but I feel my wrist crunch against the plastic face or the boards. As the paint courses through my body, I instantly know my wrist is broken. As I head to the locker room I know I am bound for the hospital.