Excuse me if this is a little dissjointed … I’m typing with one hand. The other is heavily wrapped because, yeah, my index finger is broken.

How, you ask? Well, this is a little embarrassing … well, it’s really embarrassing, and inexcusable, but I broke it while I was punching the keyboard of my laptop.

I was angry, OK? The espn.com site was loading slowly, because it has so much crap on it (hey, if I wanted video, I’d start it; don’t do it for me, fools! … oh, wait, I’m getting mad again), and I was just blowing off a little steam.

But when I woke this morning, my finger was stiff and swollen, and I went to the trainer and he ordered up some X-rays … and there’s a hairline fracture in my left index finger. I could be out a week to 10 days. I’ll be “day-to-day” after that.

It’s only a slight consolation that baseball players do something like this all the time.

Like, say, White Sox slugger Carlos Quentin, who broke his right hand while slapping his own bat in frustration and might be out for the season. His team is only trying to win a World Series.

And he’s just the latest. Some others whose tempers got the best of their skeletal system:

Noted hothead Kevin Brown broke his left hand when he punched a wall in 2004, in the midst of a pennant race.

Two pitchers have gone down this year to self-inflicted wounds. Detroit pitcher Jordan Tata punched a wall in the bathroom at the team’s spring training facility in Florida. Kansas City right-hander John Bale broke his pitching hand when he punched a door at the team hotel back in May.

Well, actually, it turns out so many baseball players have hurt themselves punching inanimate objects that I am not going to spend the time linking to every specific case. Especially while typing with one hand.

Here’s a nice roundup of some of the self-inflicted anger-generated wounds in recent years. I think this shows what kind of trouble you court when you throw your hands against bricks or stone or cement … or really tough plastic.

Well, anyway, that’s no excuse for what I did. I need to control my emotions better.

It only hurts the blogosphere when I can’t step up and do what I expect from myself. I’m embarrassed I can’t contribute as much as I ought to because my temper got the best of me. I know I’m letting down all my fans. And the kids. Especially the kids. I know I’ve set a bad example.

At first, I said I broke my finger while breaking up a dog fight, but my editor seemed doubtful and pressed me and when I changed my story on the dogs in the fight (a Cocker and a Collie … to a dachsund and Dalmation) … well, I had to come clean.

I promise, it won’t happen again.

Until I realize I’ve split another infinitive or dangled another participle or ended a sentence with a preposition I should have known about.

OK, the truth. I didn’t break my finger punching a laptop. That would be lame. Extremely. And I’d worry about breaking it. My computer. Not my hand.

And only baseball players really seem to punch walls with any frequency.

Like, take a chill pill, guys. It’s even dopier than you think.