All's Well that Ends Well?

I'm going to tell you a story today.  This is a true story.  No exaggeration...no embellishment.  

Not too long ago, my wife and I were riding bicycles on a gorgeous fall afternoon.  She's new to the game but seems to really be enjoying the bicycle.  Sunday afternoon seems to be our time to do this together.

Although most of my riding is still going to be with a decidedly faster crowd, I have enjoyed these nice little rides, (although that's not really what my wife thinks of them:  30 miles to her is half-way across the country).

On this particular day, we were slowly climbing up a long not-too-steep hill near where we live, when along came a motorized vehicle whose driver really didn't think we should be riding bikes on that particular stretch of road (or any road, for that matter).

To say that he violated the Jeff Roth 3 foot law (an excellent piece of legislation passed by Senator Doug Overbey that requires drivers of motorized vehicles to give bicycles at least 3 feet in clearance as they pass) is an understatement.  

I motioned for him to come back, not for a fight but to show him that I am a human being whose life he had just put in jeopardy.  

I got my wish.   Let's just say that the rest of this encounter was rather ugly.  I stayed calm because I feared for my safety and that of my wife.  In an attempt to personalize the encounter, I told him my name (big mistake), but he knew who I was anyway.  

When he sped off, I wrote down his license tag number.   By the next morning, I knew who he was.  

For the next couple of days, I agonized over what to do.   Press charges?  Have law enforcement officers pay him a visit?  My biking buddies wanted to form a posse and pay him a visit.  None of that appealed to my wife.

All I could think of was retaliation.  But fear and anxiety compelled me to do nothing.  I was angry, frustrated...in a word-victimized.

Then on the third day, I came to realize that retaliation was not the way to go.  That I didn't need revenge but that I needed to reach out to this guy with kindness.  Answered prayer?  Probably, but I didn't think of it in those terms at that moment.

Still, I had reason to believe, based on our only encounter, that I might not be received well at his house.  So I did nothing.

So the next day, I'm at work and our receptionist came to me and told me that there was a guy on the phone that really wanted to talk to me.   She gave his first name and I remember thinking,  could it be the same guy?  So I took the call.

It turns out it was him.   He had called to apologize.   He was genuinely remorseful.   He asked for forgiveness and I gave it to him. 

The absolute best case scenario for this whole event was for this fellow to realize that he made a mistake, apologize, and then change the way he treats bicycle riders.  I think that's what has happened.

Despite the fact that our initial encounter was really, really bad, I truly believe that this guy is deep down a good guy.   I also believe that the roads are safer because of this episode.

And maybe both he and I are better people because of it. 

Childhood Obesity Rates Improve!

OK, so maybe we've turned the corner.  Maybe the epidemic is over and better days are ahead.

I picked up USA Today while on a trip recently and one of the inside headlines read "School Meals Combat Obesity."  This is a topic that I've had some rather heated discussions about recently. 

You probably know that I spend a pretty good amount of time these days around high school athletes and their coaches.  Along about the start of the school year, new cafeteria restrictions were being blamed for hungry football players.

It seems the portions were perceived as being inadequate to supply the nutritional needs of young men most of whom were trying to get bigger for their sport.

Let me take you back a lot of years.  During my early school days, my mom worked part-time in the high school cafeteria.   Before I got to the high school, she had taken a full-time job at the local grammar school.

But she left a lot of friends in that high school cafeteria.  Friends who knew well who Jretta Black's son was.  And they took real good care of Jretta's boy.

You want a little more chicken?  How about an extra roll?  Want more dessert?  At one time, they even kept a pack of hot dogs in the refrigerator for me.

You see, I was a 185 pound offensive lineman/linebacker who couldn't gain weight no matter how much I ate.  It probably didn't help that I was always doing something outside of school and football.  Bagging groceries at the White Store (#32, by the way, for those of you remember that venerable local chain), "hauling" hay, mowing yards.  

That I was treated differently by my mother's friends is undeniable.  That it might have been unfair to other kids who needed extra food because they were hungry is likely.  

I can appreciate what football players are going through who are subjected to healthy eating initiatives that were put into place to help curb our obesity epidemic.  Let me state for the record that portion sizes for a 270 pound football lineman should be drastically different from the 120 pound chess club member.

But when I read that childhood obesity rates had ebbed in several areas around the country that had been dealing proactively with the issue, it helped me understand. 

Said Dr. James Marks, a pediatrician and senior vice president for the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation (an immensely respected organization dedicated to improving our world):  "We've had 30 years of increasing rates of obesity, but we might be seeing the turning point for this epidemic."

In Mississippi, obesity in children in grades K-5 dropped from 43% in 2007 to 37.3% in 2011.  That's huge in our most obese state. 

I preach the sermon all the time about how our kids need to be more active.  That's an essential part of the culture change that is necessary to see real improvement.    But kids have also got to learn to eat smarter, making better food choices. 

And if they're not going to get it at home, I think it's OK that they get that portion of their education at school as well.

 

Pitch count is everything

I may have seen more problems this past summer with the shoulder and elbow among young softball and baseball players than ever in my career.  "Little League Shoulder" and "Little League Elbow" are catch-all terms used to describe pain and dysfunction that is far more complex than simple names might imply.

Baseball and softball seasons have been over for a while for almost everybody.   Even the World Series has been played, short as it was.

Yes, I know about "fall ball" and it does seem like preparations for spring seasons are just around the corner but my point is about to be that now is the most crucial time to do what is necessary to protect young arms during the lull between games and serious training.

One of the many journals that I take is Sports Health.   An article entitled "Prevention of Elbow Injuries in Youth Baseball Pitchers" in the most recent edition confirmed that now is the time to address this topic.

The authors of this piece described the problems leading to shoulder and elbow problems among baseball players (but really, among all throwing athletes).  The biggest risk factor is pitch quantity.  A function of that is pitches per game, innings pitched, rest between outings,  and pitching on multiple teams.   Pitchers that also play catcher must also count those throws against their pitch count.

We know that throwing mechanics are huge.  Bad mechanics mean excess stress on the shoulder and elbow and sooner later something is going to get hurt. 

So I asked Josh Pitts, pitching instructor at Dr. K's Baseball & Softball Academy located next door to the clinic where I spend most of my time in the Cherokee Athletic Facility, what he sees as the biggest problems in throwing mechanics.

#1:  Throwing with a "short arm," which mainly means leading with the elbow during the throwing motion.   Following close behind are bad habits in their throwing motion, throwing with their arm instead of using their whole body, lack of leg strength or failure to use the strength that they have, and balance issues.  All those are correctible with proper instruction.

We've known for a long time that throwing athletes need to have strong supportive musculature to be able to throw without injury.  We also know that it is most important to have good strength in those muscles that decelerate the arm.  But most people don't realize how important leg and core strength are both to performance and to injury prevention.

I have long railed against teaching too young kids how to throw a curve ball but Josh and the authors of the article cited above don't see that as a huge problem.   Sure, if a youngster is going to be taught how to throw a curve, they need to learn proper technique, but it may be more simply pitch count, innings pitched, and rest between outings that determines injury rates than exactly what pitches are being thrown.

I am still dismayed when a 12 year old comes into my office and claims to be able to throw five different pitches.  I will go on the record here as saying that no 12 year old pitcher in the world needs to be trying to throw  that many different pitches.   That kid was also in my office for a reason.

What's Next?

It's been ten years and it is still hard to talk about.

On October 3, 2002, my son Nick Black ended his football career on the field at Florida State University's Doak Campbell Stadium.  In the middle of his redshirt junior season as a Clemson Tiger offensive lineman, a defensive end was blocked into the side of his right lower leg, shattering everything between his knee brace and his ankle brace.

When the anniversary of my son's injury arrived, I didn't realize it had been ten years.   But my son did.  It was a horrific injury that required over a year of rehabilitation and two surgeries.

When Marcus Lattimore was injured in South Carolina's game with UT last weekend, we were all forced to re-live those moments.

When Lattimore went down, I really didn't want to see it.  It is my responsibility to take care of injured athletes when those things happen and I know that I can do my job when the time comes.   But I sure don't like to watch it on TV. 

When Nick was injured, the Clemson Athletic Trainer beckoned me on to the field to assist.  One memorable photo shows me lifting my 300 pound son onto the cart to remove him from the field.  Standing next to me was Joey Batson, the Head Strength Coach at Clemson.   Batson could pick up the corner of my house but I was the one who picked up my son.

 As Nick approached the exit at the end of the stadium, the crowd erupted in applause as Nick, his head down in agony, raised his arm in encouragement.  It was the exact same spot where Lattimore's mother stood waiting on her son to get there.

It is genuinely heartbreaking.   As a Clemson fan, South Carolina is the enemy.   You want them to lose every game.   But this was different.   This hurts all of us.

I felt the pain that his family was experiencing.  I still get emotional just telling the story of Nick's last game and the tears were close watching the players from both sidelines pour onto the field to support the injured Lattimore.

What's next for this young man?  He's surely had surgery by now and he is going to get better acquainted with my professions than he ever did with his ACL injury.   Those things that made him one of the country's best running backs will help him with his rehabilitation.  

But sometimes injuries are just too much to overcome.   I hope that he plays again someday.  He deserves the chance.  But if he can't, I hope that he takes the lessons that he has already learned about what it takes to become so good and the lessons still to come about overcoming adversity and makes his life count for something outside football.

It has been reported that just before taking the field last week, Lattimore told his teammates that they should "play like you may never get to play again."  How poignant is that?

Some pretty good coaches that I know are always telling their players they shouldn't let a win or a championship be the greatest thing that they ever do...that it's what you do next that counts most.   I'm betting on Marcus Lattimore to do something pretty spectacular next.