Joel’s Brain Blurps

My left shoulder’s been bugging me lately. Nothing major; just a twinge. But it it’s been enough of a twinge to wake me up in the morning and make me swallow some Advil, something I tend to avoid if I can.

How did I hurt it? Did I lift something that was too heavy? Throw a ball with a little too much oopmh? Did I sleep on it wrong?

I wish it was one of those three reasons. No, I’m pretty sure I hurt my shoulder while playing Nintendo Wii.

I know… sounds manly, doesn’t it?

Anyway, I was over my brother Rich’s house on July 4 and discovered that he bought a Wii a couple of months ago. Since I had never played it before, he popped in the Wii Sports disc and handed me one of those remote controllers that you strap to your wrist (I guess they have the strap there to keep the controller from braining someone if your baseball or tennis grip isn’t exactly solid). We played each other in baseball, and the results were what you’d expect from two people who each played one year of Little League: lots of swinging and missing and no score.

Of course, not realizing how sensitive the controller was, I over-swung on every pitch, and when I was pitching, I actually went into a full motion, like some spastic version of Mariano Rivera. Little did I know that you really only needed to move the controller a little bit for it to do whatever you need it to do.

After baseball, my brother handed the controller to my six-year-old niece Samantha, and that’s when the fun began. I’ll relieve the suspense right now: she kicked my ass. I don’t know whether she’s more coordinated than I am or it’s just the usual case of a kid knowing more about video games than her decrepit adult relatives. But she beat me soundly in bowling and golf.

I do know that she’s already competitive as hell; she was constantly reminding me and everyone within earshot that “I have more points than you do!” I thought that her lack of sports scoring knowledge would help when we played golf, as I was about 20 shots over par to her 2. But my brother was nice enough to remind his daughter that she wanted to have less points than I did. I think the only thing that really bugged her was that I spent ten turns in a row overshooting the green on the first hole. “Why does it keep being your turn?” she pouted. Heh. Little did she know that the more times in a row I went, the better chance she had of winning.

Of all the Wii Spors games, Samantha was the most adept at boxing. In that game you attach a second controller to the one strapped to your wrist (the “nunchuck,” as Nintendo calls it) and you actually have to make boxing moves — jabbing, moving back and out of the way of punches, shielding the face or body.

Of course, I didn’t know this when I picked up the controller and Samantha had me down on the canvas in about ten seconds. She celebrated, completely not contemplating in her six-year-old mind that she had been playing the game for months and I had never even picked up the nunchucks before. She was just happy she won. Rich took my controller and played a match with her to show me what needs to be done. Even then, Samantha was holding her own. Why the heck is she so good at this game? “Short arms, I think,” was Rich’s theory.

So I got back in there, on my knees “to get down to her level,” as Rich suggested. I was jabbing, I was dodging and weaving, using exaggerated movements like some spastic version of Leon Spinks. I got a few good punches in, but Samantha was wailing on me left and right, eventually KOing me in the second round.

When I got up to go sit back down on the couch, I was hit by an unexpected sensation: I was breathing heavy! And my face was hot! I was thirsty and needed a glass of water. Oh my god: I actually broke into a sweat playing a video game! Jeez alou… I mean, I know the boxing game was a bit more strenuous than the others, but I shouldn’t be getting winded playing a video game. Perhaps it’s a good sign that I should start working out again.

Anyway, since Samantha won, she was eager to administer another electronic beatdown. “Let’s play again!” she squealed. But Rich, bless his heart, knew that I wasn’t exactly in any condition to continue right then. “Let Uncle Joel rest for a few minutes,” he told Samantha as I handed him the nunchucks.

But I did recover in time to play Samantha in tennis.. and I actually beat her! I was so happy that I even did a mock Homer Simpson-esque “In your face!” to her (though not too loud or close… six-year-olds don’t take kindly to taunting). As you might expect, she didn’t take the loss well. “Let’s play something else,” she said with disappointment in her voice.

Wii was fun; simple games that were very interactive. It seemed like a good way to kill a couple of hours on an overcast and humid holiday. But, as I said at the top of this post, there are drawbacks, especially to old farts like myself. On the drive home, my shoulder started feeling sore, the type of sore I usually feel after working out for the first time in months or, you know, helping a friend move a couch. But this time, it was Wii-induced. Nice. I mean, I’ve heard stories about people developing tendinitis after playing a lot of Wii, but a sore shoulder after a couple of hours? That’s pretty sad.

Again, it’s just another sign that a) my body isn’t as resilient as it once was — which isn’t saying much and b) I need to start doing something about it. Let’s just say that it’s time to investigate some workout methods. They may not all be conventional, but I need to do something. That Wii looked so fun I may buy one of my own, and I need to be ready for it.