Tommy John Surgery

Surgery is a four letter word for most people. It conjures of images of pain and pain killers, rest and lengthy rehab. For an athlete, the stakes are even higher. It can often mean the difference between playing again or retiring. Despite all the advances in medicine there is always that "what if" white elephant in the room - what if it doesn't work and I can never play again?

With the recent news of Washington Nationals wonderkid Stephen Strasburg having to go under the knife, the tragic price athletes can pay for pushing their bodies to the limit was brought to the forefront of the collective sporting world's mind. 

Throwing a baseball is the most unnatural motion in sport and this motion places a great deal of stress on the both the elbow and the shoulder. In 1974 Tommy John, then a pitcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers, became a victim of this stress and, at the hands of Dr Frank Jobe underwent Ulnar Collateral Ligament reconstruction. It has since become known as Tommy John Surgery as he was the first to have the procedure done. Now, I digress and will admit that some ball players should probably consider stomach stapling surgery before anything else!

Whatever surgical procedure an athlete chooses to undergo, the return to playing is never a sure thing. The road back is also a long one. In some small way I know what this is like. I've had Tommy John surgery. Unfortunately though, one small ligament change wasn't able to elevate my fastball from weekend warrior superhero to chicks dig the fastball status. As of 2009, the success rate of this particular procedure was listed at between 85-92%. So, while the odds are good Stephen Strasburg will return, they are by no means a slam dunk.

The unfortunate thing about his injury is that Strasburg made people turn on their TV's to watch baseball again. He was water cooler talk for even the casual fan. In his brief stint in the majors people came out to see his magic right arm sling bullets and baffle hitters. Here's hoping we see him again soon.

saying goodbye

For all the fun the general public has at the expense of professional athletes when we see them in tears announcing their retirement, it surely can't be easy. Consider for a minute, that this isn't a career they stepped into when they graduated university, this is their passion. A passion that has been growing since they were kids. Most athletes have been around their chosen game their entire lives. Many have known nothing but playing. Some see the end of their careers as they age and their skills naturally wane, others are blindsided by it with injury. Whatever their circumstance may be with the end comes change. And it is this change that they have the most trouble becoming acclimatized to. It is a break in a life long routine. A loss of identity of sorts.

The one common chord among all athletes is they played for one reason - the love of the game. If heartbreak and the loss of love bring tears, how is giving up your passion any different, even if was just a game?

Life After Sport? Counselling Professional Athletes Facing Retirement

living a memory

Throughout history there are moments in time when people ask "where were you when..." and you can recall most everything about that time.There have been but a handful of such moments in my lifetime. Sadly, many of these moments are those of great human tragedy. My participation in the Canadian Little League Championships last week, while not tragic, was one such unforgettable moment.

Well aware of the fact that I may never be back to this tournament again, I did my best to take it all in - the sights, the sounds, and the smells. It is an experience I cannot begin to possibly describe in a few short paragraphs. I was there in every way possible as a coach, as a fan, and as a little kid trapped in a much older body. From the opening day parade to the thousands that turned out to watch the Championship Game, it was something I had never before been a part of. I was awed by the entire experience.

There were moments in every game where I looked out from my perch beside the dugout and the only thing I could think was "how cool is this?!" Take, for instance, a home run. Nothing trumps the jubilation of home run in a little league game. There is no "business as usual" look on the kid's faces as they circle the bases like we have grown accustomed to in professional baseball. The smile is always ear to ear. And often times the mob of teammates that await them at home plate are even happier.

Each day brought with it new memories. There were nervous parents who couldn't watch as their son calmly went about their business, kids asking other kids for autographs, and friendships forged that will last well beyond this one week. There were moments of sportsmanship that left us smiling. I think of one particular boy from the Quebec team, who became a folk hero of sorts as the tournament wore on. He cheered and chatted whether his team was behind or ahead. If they gave out awards for Most Inspirational, Isaac Harris would have been a unanimous decision.

Little League baseball is an event like no other. I truly feel fortunate to have been part of this event - a "where were you when" moment in my life.

Banquet Day

With the round robin portion of the Canadian Little League Championships complete, it was time Thursday night for all of us to gather for dinner. It was a time to highlight some of the great plays, great players, and dedicated volunteers who have made the tournament such a success.

The evening was highlighted by special guest speaker, Hall of Famer Fergie Jenkins, the greatest Canadian to ever play baseball. I sat there totally captivated as he recanted some of his stories from his playing days. It was a brief look into the life of an athlete who came from small beginnings in Chatham, Ontario and rose to the top of his sportt. My one wish was that he could have had the floor all night. I love hearing these tidbits. Nobody can recall the details of their life the way a professional athlete can.

Of the stories he told, I couldn't help but laugh when someone asked how many batters he hit in his career and how many were intentional? He quickly replied "84 and everyone of them." For those not "in the know" in his playing days hitting a batter was a part of the game. It was a matter of protecting teammates for one reason or another. Another Hall of Famer, Bob Gibson, who was known to be one of the meanest pitchers of his era once said his three best pitches were, "the knockdown, the brushback, and the hit batsmen."

Some wonder why I love baseball so much because to the untrained eye it seems like such a slow moving game - Pitcher stands on mound. Pitcher throws ball. Batter swings. Batter misses. Or Batter Hits. Repeat Scenario 200 times in 3 hrs. To those that know the game though, it is so much more than this. There is so much that happens that you don't see. And it's the stories that Fergie Jenkins told last night, that so wonderfully illustrate this.

the catharsis of losing

Losing is a strange animal. Where winning keeps you on a high, losing takes you to all sorts of different places. After the initial shock and frustration of yesterday's loss I sat there dazed and confused, thinking about many different things. This one did not sit well with me. Of course I thought about what if a few different things had gone our way, but more than that I thought about how losing is so much different than winning.

Losing it seems, can me more of a cathartic experience than winning. Amidst the disappoint it can clear your head and relieve the pressure of expectations. Sure, you still wrestle with the "what if's" but those fade and you are brought back to ground zero. Less is expected of you when you lose. Anyone who has ever competed can relate. Granted, anyone who has ever competed also welcomes the expectations winning brings, it can be how you deal with losing that makes you a winner.

The challenge with losing when you are older is that it seems to sting a little more because you know that your window of opportunity is slowly closing. You can't play forever. What were once tears when you were a kid when you lost, are now replaced with a gamut of emotions - frustration, disappointment, sadness, reflection, questioning...I could go on and on. I am well aware that being in the Canadian Little League Championships even as a coach might be the closest I get to realizing a childhood dream of playing in the Little League World Series. Will not making it there hurt? Yes. But win or lose, I will remember this one week forever.

it's finally here

After days, months, and for some involved with the Ancaster organization, years, the Canadian Little League Championships are finally here. Day 1 was relatively quiet. We were first on the diamond. There is something unexplainable about being on the diamond first thing in the morning. It is very serene. The dew on the grass is not quite dry, the groomed infield sits untouched, and players seem almost reluctant to ruin this postcard as they mill about in foul territory. Slowly people and players from other teams trickled in to watch the hometown team go about their routine.

I didn't sleep much the night before as I thought about what lie ahead for our team. I thought about each game. I thought about how life would be different after next Saturday when the tournament concluded. What if we won? What if we lost? How would I respond?

And so went the day. One after the other the six competing teams took the field to strut their stuff in front of the competition.

The night's activities featured a tractor pull and caber toss - not really. What it did feature, however, was something truly memorable. In the early days of the Ancaster Little League on Opening Day there would be a parade through Old Ancaster concluded by fireworks at the ballpark. Admittedly, I wasn't sure what to expect going in to this. What I got out of it was something I will never forget. The six teams were led through the town on tractor-drawn wagons to the cheers of people lining the streets. People in their cars honked. Others stood at the end of their driveways and waved. If I was awed by the experienced, I'm sure others were.  In that moment the kid in me wanted to be playing in this tournament, but the adult in me realized this was for the current generation of  Little Leaguers and their moment in the sun. It so nicely summed up what Little League baseball truly is - a community experience.

3rd place sucks

The phrase "you can't win them all" is small consolation when you grow accustomed to winning. "Losing sucks" is more befitting I think.

This past weekend we were in Windsor and things didn't go so well for us. We set out with a goal to win this tournament and that didn't happen. And in the process our 22 game winning streak came to an end. Granted, it became a 23 game unbeaten streak after a comeback tie, but still. That comeback was certainly fun to be a part of. We scored 6 runs in the bottom of the 6th, highlighted by Anthony Marzenek's game tying homerun. It was over after that, though, after a loss in the semi finals.

If there is a positive to be taken from the weekend, it was the way the team bounced back in the consolation game with another win over High Park. With that we had to settle for a 3rd place finish. It certainly wasn't the desired outcome, but it's nice to go into the Canadian Championships next weekend on a winning note.

It's funny how teams response to us has changed over the past few months. Two months ago, we were just another team on the other side of the diamond. Now we are that team - the Ancaster Cardinals that are going to the Canadian Championships. Teams know about us. They look out for us and want to beat us. And the boys are now relishing in that role as top dogs. I think they now understand just how good a team they are. I know this because, to a man...errr young man, none of them were happy with our result. They know that while you certainly can't win them all, losing always sucks!

Next stop the Canadian Championships!

record to date: 27 W, 4 L, 1 T