What Separates You and Me From Paul Pierce

(From the Sportsman's Daily) How many times have you seen an athlete, on the floor, writhing in pain, gingerly helped off the court (or field) and lead ever-so-delicately into the (presumably) locker room…and you're thinking the guy's done.Look, I stumble over a pair of misplaced socks and chances are I'm taking myself out of that day's rotation – which in my case means I'm not taking the kid to school, or taking the pails to the curb. When Paul Pierce and Kendrick Perkins collided with 6:49 left in the third and Pierce's right knee buckled as he collapsed, I'm figuring the dude's spending the rest of the night on ML Carr duty — waving a towel and using his remaining strength to keep Doc from sending in Sam Cassell (or, short of that, using the towel to keep him tied to the bench – I mean, damn, how many unconscious heaves does it take for Cassell to be taken out and put on ice?) "I thought I tore something," Pierce said after the game. Pierce remained earthbound for several minutes before he was slapped into a wheelchair and wheeled into the locker room. Then, as history will now record, Piece emerged Willis-like from the tunnel, as fans roared. Which brings me to my point: what the hell goes on in the inner sanctum that puts guys back out on the floor, guys who only moments ago looked a shade more hearty than conventional roadkill? We'll assume that in this day and age, nothing untoward is being injected or ingested – no athlete or organization will risk further injury for a temporary fix, even if we're talking NBA finals.Whatever it is – deep tissue massage, hot rocks, crystals, rhythmic chanting, burnt offerings – I not only want to know…I want some. As we ponder the imponderable, let me leave off with the lyrics of an appropriate (kind of) Tom Waits ditty, "What's He Building?"(from 1999's Mule Variations) – highly recommended to anyone contemplating any of life's unfathomable mysteries: What's he building in there? What the hell is he building In there? He has subscriptions to those Magazines… He never Waves when he goes by He's hiding something from The rest of us… He's all To himself… I think I know Why… He took down the Tire swing from the Peppertree He has no children of his Own you see… He has no dog And he has no friends and His lawn is dying… and What about all those packages He sends. What's he building in there? With that hook light On the stairs. What's he building In there… I'll tell you one thing He's not building a playhouse for The children what's he building In there? Now what's that sound from under the door? He's pounding nails into a Hardwood floor… and I Swear to god I heard someone Moaning low… and I keep Seeing the blue light of a T.V. show… He has a router And a table saw… and you Won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw There's poison underneath the sink Of course… But there's also Enough formaldehyde to choke A horse… What's he building In there. What the hell is he Building in there? I heard he Has an ex-wife in some place Called Mayors Income, Tennessee And he used to have a consulting business in Indonesia… but what is he building in there? What the hell is building in there? He has no friends But he gets a lot of mail I'll bet he spent a little Time in jail… I heard he was up on the Roof last night Signaling with a flashlight And what's that tune he's Always whistling… What's he building in there? What's he building in there? We have a right to know…