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As the glory days of your youthful athletic superstardom fade into distant, soft-lit, and wildly-embellished memories, you may find yourself looking to fill that gaping hole in your life with a regular pickup basketball game, or a co-rec volleyball league, or a flag football tournament that features way too many angry, doughy dudes threatening to start tackling just like they did back in the '92 state title game. Finding an outlet for what remains of your competitive juices is good and healthy and, the presence of said meatheads aside, probably good for your social life, too. But if you're not carefully lacing up a pair of black fabric ankle braces first, you, my friend, are an idiot.
The ankle sprain is a grimly common injury—the American Orthopaedic Foot & Ankle Society estimates that 25,000 people do it every day, a statistic that just caused me to audibly wince. Mild sprains might be sore for a day or two before clearing up on their own, but more severe ones cause your ankle to swell grotesquely and turn all sorts of kaleidoscopic colors, transforming the simple act of getting up to pee at night into a herculean task that entails a lot of ungainly, half-asleep hopping. Recovering from my most recent sprain, an especially vicious turn that required three weeks of crutches and a walking boot, practically turned me into a hermit. (A hermit who was really good at Halo by the end of it, but still.)
The good news, my fellow weekend warrior, is that things do not have to be this way. Braces really make a difference! (Just ask two-time MVP and ankle-support icon Steph Curry.) One study of male and female high school basketball players found almost three times as many ankle injuries among the poor saps with naked ankles as they did with those who wore braces. And if you've had trouble with these injuries before, there is evidence that braces can be especially helpful in ensuring that you don't have to go through that process again. My aforementioned sprain happened in college, after which my roommate, a rugby player who probably tired quickly of my frequent requests for hand-delivered snacks, told me that I needed to start wearing braces. (Like these ankle stabilizers by ASO.) Guess what? Not a single sprain in eight years of pickup hoops and co-rec city leagues since. Occasionally an ankle will give out, and I'll briefly collapse in a heap just like old times, but the brace faithfully turns what could otherwise be a nasty turn into a minor, harmless tweak.
To be clear, a fabric ankle brace is not a stylish accessory. And your fears that embracing prophylactic athletic equipment will make you look like your grandpa rolling up to the racquetball club are well-founded. But you know what's worse than looking like your grandpa rolling up to the racquetball club? Being the guy who has to limp sheepishly into the big meeting wearing a plastic walking boot he bought last night at CVS, or the guy who lamely asks the bartender if she'd be willing to store his crutches behind the counter because they keep getting knocked over by the hordes of mobile, carefree patrons who are not similarly encumbered. Wearing a brace is a minor indignity that will spare you from much more significant ones, and it is well worth the investment. You've already played enough Halo in this life as it is.
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