I vividly remember grim warnings from my secondary school gym teachers, who lectured us on exactly what would happen whenever we didn’t wear them.
Best case scenario, we’d never have the capacity to have children. We’d twist an unacceptable way, and that’s it, our reproductive organs will be mangled beyond repair.
And this was whenever we were lucky. Worse case, we’d suffer testicular trauma. There’d be ruptures, fractures, contusions, torsions; there is no end towards the horrible things which could afflict our nuts in a friendly bet on pickleball.
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But I haven’t place on a jockstrap since sentences like “I’m concerned with tomorrow’s algebra test” and “I sincerely think that dry-humping my girlfriend throughout a slow dance at prom may sound like a meaningful relationship milestone” were issues i contemplated regularly.
Which is, until a publicity rep for Diamond MMA compression jock and cup system-readily available for just $90-sent us a complimentary set a few weeks ago.
Should your first thought was, “Hey, isn’t the same cup Dairy Queen uses of their Banana Splits?”, then we are totally on the same page.
At the beginning, I left it on my desk, like a kind of perverse tip jar. I even briefly used it being a makeshift container for pens and Post-It notes.
Then I made a decision to strap it on to the Men’s Health Monday morning editorial meeting.
There’s something weirdly exhilarating about going to work wearing the kind of testicular protection usually reserved for MMA athletes.
Because when your balls are that ensconced, you realize, without having a shadow of your doubt, the day won’t end together with you being rushed towards the emergency room with internal scrotal bleeding.
Of course, you could claim that about most days-particularly when your task, like mine, involves long periods of typing with a computer, or having conversations with calm, entirely nonviolent individuals who are unlikely to judo chop you within the nuts without warning.
But there I used to be, all but daring my fellow editors-with nothing but a smug smile-to thrust their elbows into my gonads, or grind this business end with their shoes into my giggleberries.
Not surprisingly, there have been no takers.
Afterward, I got to talking to some my male coworkers about balls-hey, these topics just appear-and what, if something, we’re doing to shield them. I found out that not really a single one wears jockstraps anymore.
Not only throughout the office. Even at the health club. Or wherever they figure out. They’re essentially free-balling it.
Jay Ferrari, a normal MH contributor having a black belt in Brazilian jiu jitsu, says the very last time he wore a jockstrap “was for pee wee football. But a jockstrap during college football or jiu jitsu? Never.”
So just why not? Why were jock straps necessary in our youth, however, not a great deal in 2015?
When our high school graduation gym coaches warned us from the testicular Armageddon that could result from letting our boys dangle unprotected, were they loaded with shit?
“Probably,” says Brian Steixner, M.D., Director from 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, a minimum of among non-pro athletes, he insists it rarely happens.
From the approximately 2,500 patients he treats each and every year, approximately 2 of those are susceptible to scrotal injury.
How exactly does it happen? “Maybe a horse kicked them in the balls,” he says. “Or there is a car accident the location where the controls went inside their nuts. Sometimes it involves farm equipment or heavy machinery. Your task involves pulling a strap as well as something breaks and snaps.”
In other words, nothing that’s very likely to eventually you. (Apart from the automobile accident. But even so, having a steering wheel rammed in your balls appears like an extended shot.)
“Modern boxer briefs pretty much solves the situation,” he says. “You don’t have to wear this weird contraption which includes these straps that wrap around your butt. You can wear tight-fitting underwear, mainly because it does everything a jockstrap did, that is keep things high and tight. That’s everything required.”
While underwear has evolved, not a whole lot changed in jockstrap and cup technology, which first came into vogue during the late 1800s.
“A jockstrap can be a jockstrap, today since it was in the past,” says Kevin Flaherty, whose great-great-great-grandfather founded one of the primary jockstrap manufacturers in america, the J.B. Flaherty Company, Inc., in 1898.
Before 100-plus years, the types of materials have changed. Flaherty’s company-now Martin Inc., which produces Flarico, Bub, and Activeman products-has changed from knitted waistbands and straps into convenient woven products.
The waistbands currently have a plush back, there isn’t a 3-inch-wide bit of rough elastic. But aside from that, and several fashion colors, there hasn’t been a great deal of dexjpky93 within the design.
Except, of course, for items like the Diamond MMA. Their compression-jock-and-cup product is made out of polycarbonate, a durable thermoplastic material that’s employed in bulletproof glass.
Which may be useful when your job requires people looking to kill you, or at a minimum severely damage your yam bag. But also for us non-MMA athletes, do we actually need so much ball-protecting technology?
Sure, fluke accidents happen. But that doesn’t mean you need to walk around wearing a helmet and elbow pads. That could be insane.
“The only other time I’ve seen serious scrotal injury was from a parent,” Dr. Steixner says.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Like a dad getting kicked hard in the nuts by one among his kids. That happens at all times.”
“It does?” I ask this even though I absolutely know he’s right.
I’m a parent or gaurdian 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 want to get a crushing ball blast from the kid not old enough yet to appreciate that scrotums have a similar general potential to deal with blunt force trauma as hard-boiled eggs.
Later that night, after 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 involved with it this time around!”
“Everything concerning 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 that he continues to deliver blow after merciless blow onto what ought to be my soft extremities.
“It’s okay,” I try and explain to her, after pretending for that umpteenth time that my son had caused me irreparable scrotal damage. “This is just what boys do.”
Then he tries on his 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 lovely wife eventually walks away. She can’t carry it anymore. But my son and so i keep laughing, whilst keeping punching the other within the nuts, surprised about the loud CLUNK our knuckles make every time they interact with what should be testicles.
“This is the best evening of my entire life,” my son laughs, falling to the floor, clutching his ribs with laughter.
Testicular violence is definitely not to laugh at. But testicular violence by which nobody gets hurt due to modern technology designed particularly for professional athletes? Well, that’s simply a reminder that we’re living in a remarkable age, unlike anything our secondary school gym teachers could have imagined.