Many people have had the unfortunate experience of being rear-ended in their car. Similarly, many people have had the unfortunate experience of hitting a pedestrian with their car. However, I would wager that few people have had the experience of their car being rear-ended by a pedestrian. A bizarre situation that I have managed to encounter.
Many years ago, I was still living in my parents’ house. With us were my two younger brothers. The youngest of the two (Ben) played youth soccer at the time, and my dad volunteered as the head coach. I have long had a deep love of the sport and, for a while, had some spare time to devote to it. So, I volunteered as an assistant coach.
Since both my dad and I were coaches on the team, we were able to split the logistical tasks of getting all of the equipment (and my brother) to the field for games and practices. In particular, there were regularly days when it was more convenient for my dad to head straight from work to the practice. On those days, I drove my brother from our house to the practice field.
However, one day he wasn’t feeling well. A minor cold or something along those lines. Nothing serious, but he was sick enough that he was skipping practice for the day. He, our dad, and I talked about the situation so we were all on the same page and knew that I would leave him home and simply drive myself to the practice field. However, we neglected to inform the middle brother (Dan) of the situation.
Dan did not play soccer at the time and thus was not a part of our normal soccer logistics. However, he had paid enough attention to our routine to know that I often, but not always, was responsible for driving Ben to practice. So, when he saw me leave with Ben still in the house, he assumed that there had been a miscommunication. His assumption was that I was mistakenly under the impression that my dad already had Ben and that I didn’t need to drive him. So, Dan came running out of the house after me.
I should clarify that, at the time, Dan was on the track and cross-country teams for our high school. He wasn’t necessarily the big superstar of the team, but we attended a high school that regularly produced NCAA runners and the occasional Olympic hopeful. So, just being on the teams meant that he was pretty good at running. When he took off running, he was fast.
So, as I drove away from the house, I saw my brother tearing after me on foot. He was moving at full speed as if his life depended on it. Assuming that there was some sort of emergency that I needed to address. I slammed on my brakes.
One of the quirks of both track and cross-country running is that, while those sports train their athletes well for speed and endurance, they don’t train their athletes for sudden stops or juking to the side. So, I slammed on my brakes and my brother didn’t.
With a car suddenly stationary in front of him, Dan ran into it at full speed. He collided with the rear bumper and went tumbling over the trunk before slowly slipping over the side. An idle thought struck me that the ragdoll highly resembled movie scenes where a car struck a pedestrian instead of a pedestrian striking a car. In fact, the impact velocity in such scenes was probably similar to what my brother had just experienced. From a physics standpoint, it doesn’t matter which object is moving when they collide, simply that there is a relative velocity.
A part of me was briefly worried that he had been hurt by the impact, but he did not seem to be in any pain, only rattled. Seeing my brother somewhat dazed but otherwise unhurt, I fought to contain my laughter as I rolled down my window.
Breathlessly, Dan said, “You forgot Ben.”
To which I replied, “No, he’s sick.”
“Oh, okay,” was all Dan said before turning around and heading back to the house.
I no longer fought my laughter as I proceeded to drive the rest of the way to soccer practice.
Crayshack 