Greg lifts a shaky thumbs up, even as he continues leaning for support.

"'M good. Just... yeah." He takes a deep breath to help muscle through the pain. Won't do to make the guy feel bad over an genuine, if painful, accident. "Don't worry about it, it was an honest mista--"

Where'd the ball go? Right under where he'd just put his foot down, in a soda-slickened patch of mud no less. Or, that's where it was, before it shot out from under his foot and sent Greg sprawling to the ground.