A Pitcher’s Prescription
August 3, 2015
One of our community’s local heroes who has really lived up to his hype is John Smoltz, a three-sport standout in high school who was recently inducted into Major League Baseball’s Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.
Michigan’s climate and Smoltz’s passion for other sports than baseball kept him from throwing so much, so early and so often that he was able to bring a lively arm into the major leagues. Nevertheless, he needed “Tommy John” surgery to repair damage to his arm, like an increasing number of baseball pitchers today.
Smoltz, who had his surgery in 2000, told USA Today recently: “We’ve asked kids to do too much, too early, and at a high velocity at a young age, and you’re just not able to handle that over time. It’s like RPM-ing your car. If you redline it enough, you’re going to blow your engine.”
The new Hall of Famer is using this high-profile platform to ask parents to stop their kids from playing year-round baseball. Like famed orthopedist James Andrews, Smoltz is recommending players take a vacation from baseball for two to four months every year.
So, those non-school fall baseball leagues we’re now seeing crop up for high school age players? After a spring and summer of ball, most high school players probably need a rest from baseball and would benefit much more from playing a school-sponsored sport in the autumn: cross country, football, soccer, tennis.
Developing skills in other sports and camaraderie with other students is a healthier prescription than year-round baseball.
Ali
July 8, 2016
My wife has never held famous athletes and coaches in very high regard. Much of this has to do with her disdain for misplaced priorities – so much attention and extravagant spending devoted to entertainment and sports when so much of the world’s population is without most basic essentials of life.
Because of my work, my wife occasionally has been in the company of some of the biggest names in American sports; but only one clenched her in rapt attention. It was Muhammad Ali.
We were attending a banquet at which Ali was honored. We sat at adjacent tables, with the back of my wife’s chair almost touching the back of the chair to which Ali was being ushered, slowly because of his disease.
We all stood as Ali entered. My wife’s eyes were on Ali; my eyes were on my wife, for I had never seen her give respect to a sports personality in this manner.
After the banquet, and at times since then, and certainly again after his death June 3, my wife and I have talked about what it is in Ali that she hasn’t seen in other prominent sports figures.
We noted that he brought elegance to a brutal sport, and charm to boastfulness. We cited the twinkle in his eye that outlasted his diseased body.
We recalled the tolerance and dignity he brought to his faith, and how he demonstrated his faith commitment at the most inconvenient time in his career.
We recalled his poetry when he was young and talked too much, and his use of magic to communicate after disease stole his words, as he did that night we were with him.
Years after that banquet, when Ali lit the Olympic flame at the 1996 Olympics, my wife cried. She had tears in her eyes again when that moment was replayed on the day after Ali’s death.
Ali ascended to worldwide fame in a different era – when professional media tended to be enablers more than investigative journalists, and before social media pushed every personal weakness around the planet overnight. It’s possible Ali would not have been as loved if he had emerged in public life today. It’s also possible he would have been even more beloved.