Over the past five years I’ve been playing old man baseball on two teams. That’s hardball. The two leagues, one for players ages 55+ and the other for 62+, are loaded with athletes wanting to continue competing despite sometimes compellingly told by our bodies to cease and desist.
I say that because of the injuries which occur every season. So far – keeping fingers crossed – I’ve avoided major injuries. One year, I tugged a hamstring, but soldiered on. Another year, while batting, the force of the fastball upon making contact with my bat contorted my right elbow in a direction it didn’t want to go. Icing, Advil, and an arm sleeve for compression allowed my continued participation, but it was excruciatingly painful for several weeks.
The body does not agree with what your heart desires. It tells you to rest, quit or retire. Most of the players in both leagues deal with these types of season/career-defining injuries. Resting and rejuvenating are critically important to keep yourself on the active playing list.
Each year (as the oldest player on our 55+ team) for the past three seasons, I advise newcomers on physical survival. I speak from experience, and wanting new teammates to stay healthy playing the game they love.
Here are the tips: Stretch before every at bat; don’t try to sprint (instead, taking baby steps before slowly accelerating as you run the bases or chase a ball); if at all possible, avoid sliding and diving; take it slow.
My teammates nod their heads. They understand. They agree. Mentally, they recognize the need to follow this advice. But, do they? Of course not.
Instead, competitive instinct and the heart take over as players repeatedly try to beat out a ground ball, steal a base, or make a spectacular diving catch on the outfield grass. Is this a good idea? Again, of course not.
What happens in these situations? You can predict the outcomes – torn rotator cuffs; ACL tears; pulled and torn hamstrings; twisted ankles; torn ligaments. You name it.
Of the new teammates each season, typically three get injured and are either out for the season or must miss 5-6 weeks rehabilitating an injury. Most recently, as we started this season, four of the 12 players on our roster got hurt during our opening game. One popped his hamstring in the following game and appears out for the season, despite being urged to take it slow and easy, and to be careful. He dove back to third on a play, and that was that. We all felt his pain as he lay face down on the dirt.
As this information was related to two good friends, they amusingly said we should change the name of our team to “The Arthritics.” We all laughed at this. We kicked around other names, including, “The Cracked Bones,” “The Sore and Grouchies,” “The Strained Muscles,” “Muscle Tearers,” “Leg Benders,” and “Ankle Crushers.” We had a good laugh batting these around on email.
At one point the suggestion was made to approach someone of decision-making power at a local Milwaukee area hospital to see if they would sponsor our team. Maybe an orthopedic practice. They could make some money off us.
The injuries will not go away because almost every player loves the game too much and won’t retire until the pain is non-negotiable. It happens to everyone at some point.
We slog it out. We have fun. We beat ourselves up. We cheer for our teammates. We agonize over their injuries, and our own. We take the field again and again for love, the joy of being on the field, the spring breeze, smelling fresh cut grass, the eternal mashing of the ball and watching it soar, flinging a pitch past a flailing hitter or making a diving catch to secure a victory.
The body retaliates. But love keeps resurfacing.