I moved to America’s Finest City last May, and my less than elaborate plan was to get a job, a surfboard, and a place not to far from the beach. I would then surf everyday, at the risk of becoming some sort of obnoxious Californian surfer who went on about how amazing it is to be in touch with the ocean.

As I’ve mentioned before, this plan was quickly de-railed by pain in my right shoulder. My last best guess was that it was all in my head. A trip to the doctor today gave a different diagnosis which makes me miss the days when I thought I wasn’t rowing with all my oars. Word is I’ve got tiny tears in my rotator cuff, and at any time from now until I die, if I over exert the shoulder region, pain will follow.

Pills and physical therapy will follow, but from what the doctor told me, not only is my future as a beach bum in jeopardy, but I have to give up on my dream of being a major league pitching. A-Rod will sleep a little better tonight while I second guess moving so far from decent snowboarding.

Hopefully I’ll learn something from this, or become stronger, in the mental sense (obviously not in the shoulder), but for now I’m sulking and throwing things left handed at at surfers on their way to the beach.