I vividly remember grim warnings from my high school gym teachers, who lectured us on just what would happen once we didn’t wear them.
Best case scenario, we’d never have the capacity to have children. We’d twist the incorrect way, and that’s it, our reproductive organs will be mangled beyond repair.
And this was if we were lucky. Worse case, we’d suffer testicular trauma. There’d be ruptures, fractures, contusions, torsions; there was no end towards the horrible things that could afflict our nuts during the friendly bet on pickleball.
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However I haven’t place on a jockstrap since sentences like “I’m concerned with tomorrow’s algebra test” and “I sincerely believe that dry-humping my girlfriend during the slow dance at prom may sound like a meaningful relationship milestone” were issues i seriously considered regularly.
Which is, until a pr rep for Diamond MMA compression jock and cup system-readily available for just $90-sent us a complimentary set several weeks ago.
When your first thought was, “Hey, isn’t that this same cup Dairy Queen uses for 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 as being a makeshift container for pens and Post-It notes.
Then I made a decision to strap it on for that Men’s Health Monday morning editorial meeting.
There’s something weirdly exhilarating about going to work wearing the kind of testicular protection usually restricted to MMA athletes.
Because whenever your balls are that ensconced, you already know, without having a shadow of a doubt, the day won’t end together with you being rushed to the emergency room with internal scrotal bleeding.
Of course, you could potentially claim that about most days-especially when your job, like mine, involves extended periods of typing over a computer, or having conversations with calm, entirely nonviolent people who are unlikely to judo chop you in the nuts out of nowhere.
But there I used to be, all but daring my fellow editors-with nothing more than a smug smile-to thrust their elbows into my gonads, or grind the company end in their shoes into my giggleberries.
Not surprisingly, there are no takers.
Afterward, I bought to speaking with some my male coworkers about balls-hey, these topics just show up-and what, if anything, we’re doing to guard them. I discovered that not much of a single one wears jockstraps anymore.
Not just around the office. Even at the gym. Or wherever they exercise. They’re essentially free-balling it.
Jay Ferrari, a consistent MH contributor who has 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 why not? Why were jockstrap for sale necessary in our youth, however, not a whole lot in 2015?
When our senior high school gym coaches warned us of your testicular Armageddon which could are caused by letting our boys dangle unprotected, were they loaded with shit?
“Probably,” says Brian Steixner, M.D., Director in 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 when it comes to testicular trauma, at least among non-pro athletes, he insists it rarely happens.
Of your approximately 2,500 patients he treats annually, only about a pair of those are susceptible to scrotal injury.
So how exactly does it happen? “Maybe a horse kicked them within the balls,” he says. “Or there is an automobile accident where controls went into their nuts. Often it concerns farm equipment or heavy machinery. Your job involves pulling a strap and something breaks and snaps.”
Put simply, nothing that’s very likely to eventually you. (With the exception of the vehicle accident. But even so, using a controls rammed to your balls seems like a lengthy shot.)
“Modern boxer briefs virtually 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 put on tight-fitting underwear, since it does everything a jockstrap did, which happens to be keep things high and tight. That’s all you need.”
While underwear has changed, not a whole lot is different in jockstrap and cup technology, which first came into vogue through the late 1800s.
“A jockstrap can be a jockstrap, today because it was back then,” says Kevin Flaherty, whose great-great-great-grandfather founded one of the first jockstrap manufacturers in america, the J.B. Flaherty Company, Inc., in 1898.
In past times 100-plus years, the materials 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 will have a plush back, and then there isn’t a 3-inch-wide piece of rough elastic. But adding to that, plus some fashion colors, there hasn’t been a great deal of dexjpky93 within the design.
Except, obviously, for products like the Diamond MMA. Their compression-jock-and-cup system is made out of polycarbonate, a durable thermoplastic material that’s utilized in bulletproof glass.
That could be useful in case your job requires people looking to kill you, or at a minimum severely damage your yam bag. However, for us non-MMA athletes, should we actually need much ball-protecting technology?
Sure, fluke accidents happen. But that doesn’t mean you should walk around wearing a helmet and elbow pads. That could 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 within the nuts by among his kids. That takes place all the time.”
“It does?” I ask this although I absolutely know he’s right.
I’m a mother or father of the 4-year-old boy, and I’ve been on the receiving end of the barbarous foot or elbow. I’m well aware of what it’s like to be given a crushing ball blast coming from a kid not of sufficient age yet to understand that scrotums have the same general effectiveness against blunt force trauma as hard-boiled eggs.
Later that night, once 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 about 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 I just laugh, and the man is constantly deliver blow after merciless blow onto what needs to be my soft extremities.
“It’s okay,” I try to explain to her, after pretending for the umpteenth time that my son had caused me irreparable scrotal damage. “This is just what boys do.”
He then tries on his cup-the Diamond MMA individuals were kind enough to send me two-and i also give his groin a pounding (although admittedly I pull my punches.)
My wife eventually walks away. She can’t take it anymore. But my son and so i keep laughing, whilst keeping punching each other inside the nuts, amazed at the loud CLUNK our knuckles make every time they get in touch with what should be testicles.
“This is the greatest night of my entire life,” my son laughs, falling on the floor, clutching his ribs with laughter.
Testicular violence is nothing to laugh at. But testicular violence by which nobody gets hurt due to modern technology designed specially for professional athletes? Well, that’s merely a reminder that we’re located in a remarkable age, unlike anything our high school graduation gym teachers might have imagined.