I vividly remember grim warnings from my secondary school gym teachers, who lectured us on just what would happen if we didn’t wear them.
Best case scenario, we’d never have the ability to have children. We’d twist the incorrect way, and that’s it, our reproductive organs could be mangled beyond repair.
And that was once we were lucky. Worse case, we’d suffer testicular trauma. There’d be ruptures, fractures, contusions, torsions; there was clearly no end on the horrible things which could eventually our nuts throughout a friendly game of pickleball.
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Having Said That I haven’t place on a jockstrap since sentences like “I’m worried about tomorrow’s algebra test” and “I sincerely assume that dry-humping my girlfriend in a slow dance at prom sounds like a meaningful relationship milestone” were things I considered regularly.
That may be, until a pr rep for Diamond MMA compression jock and cup system-available for just $90-sent us a complimentary set a couple weeks ago.
When your first thought was, “Hey, isn’t how the same cup Dairy Queen purposes of their Banana Splits?”, then we are totally on the same page.
In the beginning, I left it on my desk, like a sort of perverse tip jar. I even briefly tried it like a makeshift container for pens and Post-It notes.
I made a decision to strap it on for your Men’s Health Monday morning editorial meeting.
There’s something weirdly exhilarating about going to work wearing the sort of testicular protection usually restricted to MMA athletes.
Because when your balls are that ensconced, you understand, without a shadow of a doubt, that this day won’t end with you being rushed for the e . r . with internal scrotal bleeding.
Of course, you could claim that about most days-especially when your work, like mine, involves long periods of typing over a computer, or having conversations with calm, entirely nonviolent people who are unlikely to judo chop you in the nuts without warning.
But there I was, all but daring my fellow editors-with simply a smug smile-to thrust their elbows into my gonads, or grind the organization end of their shoes into my giggleberries.
Unsurprisingly, there have been no takers.
Afterward, I purchased to speaking with some my male coworkers about balls-hey, these topics just appear-and what, if anything, we’re doing to safeguard them. I learned that not much of a single one of those wears jockstraps anymore.
Not simply throughout the office. Even in the club. Or wherever they work out. They’re essentially free-balling it.
Jay Ferrari, a regular MH contributor that has a black belt in Brazilian jiu jitsu, says the past time he wore a jockstrap “was for pee wee football. But a jockstrap during college football or jiu jitsu? Never.”
So why not? Why were jockstraps for sale necessary inside our youth, although not so much in 2015?
When our high school graduation gym coaches warned us of your testicular Armageddon which could originate from letting our boys dangle unprotected, were they full of shit?
“Probably,” says Brian Steixner, M.D., Director of the Institute of Men’s Health at Jersey Urology Group in Atlantic City.
Dr. Steixner has treated some truly horrifying, gory male organ injuries. But in relation to testicular trauma, at the very least among non-pro athletes, he insists it rarely happens.
In the approximately 2,500 patients he treats every year, only about two of those are suffering from scrotal injury.
How exactly does it happen? “Maybe a horse kicked them inside the balls,” he says. “Or there was clearly a vehicle accident the location where the steering wheel went into their nuts. It sometimes has to do with farm equipment or heavy machinery. Your career involves pulling a strap as well as something breaks and snaps.”
In other words, nothing that’s very likely to afflict you. (Except for the auto accident. But even then, using a controls rammed in your balls seems like an extensive shot.)
“Modern boxer briefs virtually solves the problem,” he says. “You don’t should wear this weird contraption that has these straps that wrap around your butt. Try on some tight-fitting underwear, mainly because it does everything a jockstrap did, which is keep things high and tight. That’s all you need.”
While underwear has changed, very little changed in jockstrap and cup technology, which first came into vogue throughout the late 1800s.
“A jockstrap can be a jockstrap, today mainly because it was in those days,” says Kevin Flaherty, whose great-great-great-grandfather founded one of the first jockstrap manufacturers in the nation, the J.B. Flaherty Company, Inc., in 1898.
Previously 100-plus years, the type of material have changed. Flaherty’s company-now Martin Inc., which produces Flarico, Bub, and Activeman products-has evolved from knitted waistbands and straps into much more comfortable woven products.
The waistbands have a plush back, where there isn’t a 3-inch-wide bit of rough elastic. But in addition to that, and some fashion colors, there hasn’t been a lot of dexjpky93 from the design.
Except, of course, for models like the Diamond MMA. Their compression-jock-and-cup method is manufactured from polycarbonate, a durable thermoplastic material that’s found in bulletproof glass.
Which may be useful in case your job requires people seeking to kill you, or at best severely damage your yam bag. However for us non-MMA athletes, should we require that much ball-protecting technology?
Sure, fluke accidents happen. But that doesn’t mean you must walk around wearing a helmet and elbow pads. That might be insane.
“The only other time I’ve seen serious scrotal injury was from your parent,” Dr. Steixner says.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Like a dad getting kicked hard in the nuts by one among his kids. That happens on a regular basis.”
“It does?” I ask this although I absolutely know he’s right.
I’m a mother or father of your 4-year-old boy, and I’ve been about the receiving end of the barbarous foot or elbow. I’m knowledgeable of what it’s like to be given a crushing ball blast coming from a kid not old enough yet to comprehend that scrotums have similar general resistance to blunt force trauma as hard-boiled eggs.
Later that night, as i return home, I’m still wearing my Diamond MMA compression jock and cup. But unlike the professional interactions with my co-workers, I don’t discourage a violent reciprocity with my testicles.
“C’mon!” I shout at my son, who can’t believe what his daddy is asking him. “Hit me again! Really throw your whole body in it now!”
“Everything relating to this makes me uncomfortable,” she announces, similar to this proclamation will somehow make my son stop hurtling into my nutsack with extreme prejudice.
My son and so i just laugh, and he will continue to deliver blow after merciless blow onto what should be my soft extremities.
“It’s okay,” I try and explain to her, after pretending to the umpteenth time that my son had caused me irreparable scrotal damage. “This is just what boys do.”
He then tries on his own cup-the Diamond MMA everyone was kind enough to send out me two-and that i give his groin a pounding (although admittedly I pull my punches.)
My partner eventually walks away. She can’t carry it anymore. But my son and so i keep laughing, whilst keeping punching the other inside the nuts, surprised by the loud CLUNK our knuckles make every time they interact with what must be testicles.
“This is the greatest night of my life,” my son laughs, falling on the floor, clutching his ribs with laughter.
Testicular violence is absolutely nothing to laugh at. But testicular violence through which nobody gets hurt thanks to modern technology designed specifically for professional athletes? Well, that’s merely a reminder that we’re residing in a remarkable age, unlike anything our secondary school gym teachers could possibly have imagined.