I vividly remember grim warnings from my secondary school gym teachers, who lectured us on what exactly would happen once we didn’t use them.
Best case scenario, we’d never have the ability to have children. We’d twist an unacceptable 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 that could eventually our nuts in a friendly bet on pickleball.
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But I haven’t put on a jockstrap since sentences like “I’m worried about 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 a few things i considered regularly.
Which is, until a pr rep for Diamond MMA compression jock and cup system-available for just $90-sent me a complimentary set a couple weeks ago.
When your first thought was, “Hey, isn’t how the same cup Dairy Queen uses for their Banana Splits?”, then we are totally about the same page.
At the beginning, I left it in my desk, like a kind of perverse tip jar. I even briefly used it as being a makeshift container for pens and Post-It notes.
I chosen to strap it on for the Men’s Health Monday morning editorial meeting.
There’s something weirdly exhilarating about planning to work wearing the kind of testicular protection usually reserved for MMA athletes.
Because whenever your balls are that ensconced, you already know, without having a shadow of any doubt, how the day won’t end together with you being rushed on the e . r . with internal scrotal bleeding.
Obviously, you could say that about most days-particularly if your work, like mine, involves extended 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 found myself, all but daring my fellow editors-with simply a smug smile-to thrust their elbows into my gonads, or grind this business end with their shoes into my giggleberries.
Not surprisingly, there were no takers.
Afterward, I got to talking with some my male coworkers about balls-hey, these topics just surface-and what, if anything, we’re doing to guard them. I learned that not just a single one of them wears jockstraps anymore.
Not merely around the office. Even at the health club. Or wherever they figure out. They’re essentially free-balling it.
Jay Ferrari, an ordinary MH contributor who may have a black belt in Brazilian jiu jitsu, says the final 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 mens jockstrap necessary inside our youth, although not a great deal in 2015?
When our high school gym coaches warned us of your testicular Armageddon that may be a consequence of letting our boys dangle unprotected, were they full of 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 with regards to testicular trauma, at the very least among non-pro athletes, he insists it rarely happens.
From the approximately 2,500 patients he treats every year, no more than a couple of those are suffering from scrotal injury.
So how exactly does it happen? “Maybe a horse kicked them within the balls,” he says. “Or there was clearly an automobile accident in which the steering wheel went to their nuts. Sometimes it is related to farm equipment or heavy machinery. Your job involves pulling a strap as well as something breaks and snaps.”
In other words, nothing that’s prone to happen to you. (Except for the vehicle accident. But even so, possessing a controls rammed to your balls looks like a long shot.)
“Modern boxer briefs just about solves the problem,” he says. “You don’t must wear this weird contraption which has these straps that wrap around your butt. You can put on tight-fitting underwear, as it does everything a jockstrap did, which happens to be keep things high and tight. That’s everything required.”
While underwear has changed, not a whole lot has changed in jockstrap and cup technology, which first came into vogue throughout the late 1800s.
“A jockstrap can be a jockstrap, today since it was in those days,” says Kevin Flaherty, whose great-great-great-grandfather founded among the first jockstrap manufacturers in america, the J.B. Flaherty Company, Inc., in 1898.
In past times 100-plus years, materials have changed. Flaherty’s company-now Martin Inc., which produces Flarico, Bub, and Activeman products-has changed from knitted waistbands and straps into more comfortable woven products.
The waistbands have a plush back, where there isn’t a three-inch-wide part of rough elastic. But in addition to that, and several fashion colors, there hasn’t been lots of dexjpky93 in the design.
Except, needless to say, for items like the Diamond MMA. Their compression-jock-and-cup technique is made out of polycarbonate, a durable thermoplastic material that’s used in bulletproof glass.
That may be useful if your job requires people looking to kill you, or at least severely damage your yam bag. However, for us non-MMA athletes, should we absolutely need that much ball-protecting technology?
Sure, fluke accidents happen. But that doesn’t mean you should walk around wearing a helmet and elbow pads. That might be insane.
“The only other time I’ve seen serious scrotal injury was coming from a parent,” Dr. Steixner says.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Like a dad getting kicked hard inside the nuts by one of his kids. That occurs on a regular basis.”
“It does?” I ask this although I absolutely know he’s right.
I’m a parent or gaurdian of any 4-year-old boy, and I’ve been about the receiving end of any barbarous foot or elbow. I’m knowledgeable of what it’s prefer to receive a crushing ball blast coming from a kid not of sufficient age yet to realize that scrotums have a similar general potential to deal with blunt force trauma as hard-boiled eggs.
Later that night, when 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 into it this time!”
“Everything concerning this makes me uncomfortable,” she announces, such as this proclamation will somehow make my son stop hurtling into my nutsack with extreme prejudice.
My son and I just laugh, and the man is constantly deliver blow after merciless blow onto what should be my soft extremities.
“It’s okay,” I try to convey to her, after pretending to the umpteenth time that my son had caused me irreparable scrotal damage. “This is what boys do.”
He then tries on his own cup-the Diamond MMA people were kind enough to deliver me two-and I give his groin a pounding (although admittedly I pull my punches.)
My partner eventually walks away. She can’t bring it anymore. But my son and so i keep laughing, while keeping punching the other in the nuts, impressed by the loud CLUNK our knuckles make when they interact with what needs to be testicles.
“This is the greatest night of my well being,” my son laughs, falling on the floor, clutching his ribs with laughter.
Testicular violence is certainly not to laugh at. But testicular violence through which nobody gets hurt as a result of modern technology designed specially for professional athletes? Well, that’s just a reminder that we’re surviving in a remarkable age, unlike anything our high school graduation gym teachers might have imagined.