Dodger Lessons
August 6, 2013
The first baseball team I played on was the Dodgers. I’ve been a Dodger fan ever since, checking their place in the National League standings almost every day of the season, year after year. It would have been difficult to learn more about sports and life from any professional sports franchise than one could learn from the Dodgers as I was growing up.
It was the Dodgers who returned integration to the Major Leagues in 1951, which from my home in central Wisconsin seemed unremarkable; and when I became old enough to think about baseball, Jackie Robinson was my most favorite player for a long while.
It was the Dodgers who led the Major League’s migration from the northeast to the west, which my young mind could not grasp. From historic Brooklyn to Los Angeles? To play in the Coliseum?
I could not know then that this leading edge of professional sports franchise mobility would become an early adopter of a new toy called “television,” and that this would solidify baseball’s place as the national pastime for two more generations.
I coped with tragedy as catcher Roy Campanella suffered a paralyzing injury. I considered religion’s place in life as Sandy Koufax declined to pitch on Jewish holy days.
The Dodgers of my youth already knew that life is not fair. How could it be after Oct. 3, 1951, when the hated Giants’ Bobby Thompson hit a ninth-inning homerun to steal the National League pennant from my Dodgers?
Sadly, the Dodgers of more recent years have been beset by the kind of ownership dramas now common among professional sports as the insipid idle rich ruin even the most stable and storied franchises.
And speaking of rich, had it not been for my dear mother’s insatiable desire to clean out every closet she found, I might be rich too. For I had collected, and kept in mint condition, the baseball card of every Dodger player of the 1950s. They were thrown out while I was away at college.
School Sports’ Influence
June 20, 2017
As I sat a year ago in an audience consisting of my colleagues from across the U.S., I shared the general frustration – or perhaps it was exhaustion – when a veteran member of our national sports medicine advisory committee discussed the role of high school sports leaders in addressing what he said posed the greatest threat to students.
That threat was nothing we had been working on so very hard for so very long. It wasn’t heads, heat or hearts. Not extreme weight loss in wrestling or, increasingly, in other sports. Not communicable diseases, especially in wrestling. It wasn’t specialization. Not performance enhancing drugs.
He reported that the greatest threat is accidents. Away from the practice and competition venues, and especially traffic accidents. He wondered what our role should be.
He acknowledged much we’ve done regarding so many issues in the past, and all the newer issues – such as opioid addiction, depression and suicide – that are pressing for our attention; but he said it was the same issue today that it has been for decades that most threatens students. Accidents. Especially automobile accidents.
He admitted that the time and place of this threat was not under the control of athletic coaches and administrators. But his point was that the time and place is still under the influence of coaches and administrators.
Say all you want that school sports is irrelevant in this age of video games and ubiquitous non-school sports. This physician knows the score. He knows that school sports still matters mightily to kids, and that those in charge of local school sports programs still yield great power over young people.
Pick a problem – almost any problem – and people want school sports to address it. From bullying to bulimia, from obesity to overuse injuries. It is unfair to ask us to do all this, especially when funding for school sports is considered a frill in so many places.
But it’s a heck of an honor to work in an area where people think we’re the solution, or at least a deterrent. So we keep trying.