There was a time when there were jobs for women and jobs for men. This was especially true when it came to gender specific activities, like sports. Women weren't allowed to be coaches, trainers or even journalists covering men's teams -- I guess to protect the modesty of the male athletes in the locker room. But whatever, that's history now. Gender does not factor into hiring decisions, both by law and by our changing mores. Thus it was that my college men's baseball team hired its first female trainer.
Melissa was a young medical assistant, fresh from the sports medicine program at the University. She was just 25, a few years older than we were. Pretty, red haired and petite, she had the slim, tight body of a runner, which she was. And she had the spunky attitude of a girl raised with several brothers. She was comfortable with guys and used to testosterone fueled behavior.
Melissa treated our minor aches and pains. Lots of first aid for stiff or injured muscles, bruises and cuts, cold symptoms, and dispensing medicines. And doling out reassurance to injured players that they'd be back playing ball again soon. A pretty smile and a pretty face go a long way.
College aged males, by definition, are a horny group. But Melissa was careful not to flirt with the guys. No, that was dangerous considering her position. But she was different with me. It was clear the attraction was strong, and reciprocated on my part. But we didn't date or discuss dating; that would have crossed a line. So we often just sat by each other and chatted on the bench during games. I was not a starter, so I had a lot of free time on the bench.
I was usually put into a game in the late innings. I was an excellent fielder and fast, but my batting was just average, so my entry was to fill a specific need. We were playing the University of Tulsa, in a tight ballgame where we were behind by one run. Mason, our pitcher, had bunted his way onto base, and the coach put me in as a pinch runner. I had loosened up before the game, of course, but had been sitting for over an hour. I trotted to first base, stretched a little and waited for the coach's instructions. The third base coach flashed the sign: steal second. I waited a few pitches and took off on a breaking ball away. I beat the throw, although I felt a slight tightness in my groin when I stood up. A few pitches later, one of the guys laced a hanging curve ball into right field. I took off and rounded third. Urged on by the coach, I headed home. I slid, avoiding the catcher's efforts to tag me.
I trotted to the bench and knew I was going to pay a price for this: my thigh ached. I had pulled a groin muscle. I accepted the congratulations of my teammates and Melissa. But I told Melissa of my injury. She said not to worry; she'd fix me up after the game.
When the game ended, we all retreated to the locker room to shower and dress. Melissa had her own dressing area in the locker room, at the end, with a small partition in front of it as a privacy screen. In truth, the partition was more of a gesture toward privacy than a barrier, as one could see around it if you were using certain lockers on the other side of the aisle. And it was only 4 feet in height, so we could always see her shoulders and head as she dressed. If you were tall, and I'm 6'3", you could see a little more. I occasionally sneaked a look, and admired her petite body and breasts.
Melissa told me to shower but not get dressed, as she would treat the groin pull. We waited for the room to empty out and went into the trainer's section of the locker room. There were tables and a small hot tub, where a player could soak his injuries away. I was wearing just a towel. She had me lie on the table, and arranged the towel vertically on my middle, so it covered my private parts but allowed access to the thighs. She placed a cold compress on the right groin area and pressed down on it so the cold radiated into the muscle. She continued to apply pressure. She smiled at me. We chatted about the game a little as the area became numb with the cold.
"Now we apply heat." She said. "Into the hot tub."
"What do I do with the towel", I asked innocently.
