So I was playing football the other day and, whilst I bravely* leapt to head a ball clear, an opponent underestimated my height advantage and headed a large proportion of my face. My face is mostly nose, so you can imagine the mess it made. To be honest, there wasn’t much in the way of bruising, as implied above. What there was, was blood. Oh, so much blood!
So once play was stopped, my team-mates gathered around to see how I was and – in the absence of a first aid kit – offer various bits of advice while looking a little bit horrified. While I wasn’t in much pain, the torrent of blood had been streaming from my proboscis for much longer than I’d have liked and I was looking for a bit of reassurance. I thought I’d lighten the mood and tell a few jokes, as is my want, to get the guys laughing and, in turn, settle me down. Instead of laughing and joining in, they continued to look grossed out by my bloodstained visage and quietly murmur things like, “there’s a lot of blood there, y’know” and, “yeah, a lot of blood.”