Throws like a girl?

 

I remember where I was the first time I heard the phrase.  “She doesn’t throw like a girl.”

It was at the baseball field in downtown Loudon and the person they were referring to you was a middle-aged woman that could throw like a rocket. She was actually playing on a men’s softball team (back then, they didn’t have softball teams for women where I grew up).

Throws like a girl. Runs like a girl. Not exactly compliments. Well, not compliments at all. Used derisively. 

And what I heard back in the day (she doesn’t throw like a girl) is really a slap in the face too. The person may have meant it as a complement but it really wasn’t. It implies that girls aren’t supposed to throw well.

So, what does it mean to “throw like a girl?”

Let me tell you about a couple of softball players I know. I remember one of them who played softball at Maryville Little League. Twelve years old, playing center field, and she retrieves a ball that made it all the way to the fence and in one move, she picks up the ball and throws a line drive that was about a foot off the ground, and just to the catcher’s left, picking off the runner who thought they had an easy score.

Did she throw like a girl?

Maybe you watched with me the Olympic sprinters this year. Did you see Sha’Carri Richardson?  Did you see Tara Davis-Woodhall in the long jump?

Did they run like a girl?

So, what do these people mean by that? I suppose it is a phrase that is meant to describe a weak throw with bad mechanics. Or a running gait that is equally inefficient and ineffective.

I’ve seen people of either gender throw ineffectively. With bad mechanics. And then couldn’t hit the broad side of a bar door.   I’ve seen others that look like they’ve never tried to run fast in their life.

But maybe there’s a thread of truth in what they say.  Can more boys than girls throw a ball effectively? Efficiently? With great body mechanics?

Yeah, probably so. But why? Once, long ago, I talked about the fact that when I was at Maryville Little League, we struggled to fill four girls’ softball teams while having full squads for twelve little boys’ baseball teams.

It just seems like folks believe it is more important for their little boys to play sports than it is their little girls. That means that fewer girls get to work on developing good throwing mechanics. Or develop the muscles that it takes to throw effectively. And run fast.

Remember the girl that pitched in the little league baseball world series? Girl could pitch! I don’t think anybody told her that she pitched like a girl. She might hit them with a nasty curve if they had.

When I was growing up, we threw something all the time. Footballs, baseballs. We would have contests to see who could chuck a rock at a sign and hit it the most. Walnut season meant a whole new arsenal of projectiles. And yes, my buddies were all male back then.

We need to provide our young girls with opportunities to lead active lives.

You want healthy female adults that cannot be pigeonholed as “only girls” when they grow up? Let them run and jump and throw. Let them swim and bike and play anything that they want to.  Climb rocks.  Chuck walnuts at signs. Provide your little boys with the same opportunities.

Then maybe one day we won’t need to categorize anyone as throwing “like a girl.”

Bentonville

 

I just got back from a trip to Bentonville, Arkansas. I was there to ride bikes with a buddy of mine and his son. There was a big bike race/ride called the Hincappie Grand Fondo but we went early to take advantage of trails surrounding town.  And, oh my goodness, do they have trails.

If you don’t know much about Bentonville, just know that it is the headquarters for Walmart.  The Walton family has been responsible for much of the growth of this town, which used to be a sleepy little place in the northwest corner of Arkansas.

The Walton family has been responsible for turning this town into a mecca for outdoor activities and a healthy lifestyle.  Bentonville has embraced a culture that promotes getting outdoors and all the good that goes along with that.

They have 129 miles of mountain bike trails, 137 miles of hiking trails, and the Razorback Greenway that can take you all around the city or to nearby Fayetteville. Coffee shops and cool restaurants all around town. A truly world-class art museum in the Crystal Bridges Art Museum.

In town, I often saw more bicycles than cars. They don’t just have bike lanes—they have bicycle highways.  Two lanes with a shoulder! And in areas where the bike lanes parallel busy streets, these gigantic bolsters that would block most vehicles from drifting into the bike lanes.

But I’m not here to make the all-star list for the Bentonville Chamber of Commerce. I’m here to talk about how we can take advantage of what we have here.

Now, don’t get me wrong—we aren’t going to become another Bentonville. We don’t have Walmart money backing everything that we do. What we can do is to grow and foster what we already have. 

For one thing, we can change our mindset about transportation. I hear complaints about the road infrastructure but if we didn’t hop in the car and skip around town for every little whim, traffic might be better. The Greenbelt is wonderful but if there were more access points, into neighborhoods all around town, maybe more people would be inclined to travel around by bicycle.

At times, we love our Smoky Mountains to death. Cades Cove is one of the most beautiful places in the world, yet bumper-to-bumper vehicles creeping around those 11 miles is the last place I want to be.

There are many places in the Smokies that you can go and avoid the crowds. And for goodness sake, get out of your vehicle. You’ll see more, feel more, smell more. There are 900 miles of trails in our national park.

Get out on the water. We’re surrounded by it. Ever paddle down the Little River?  It’s a magical experience. Or go up to the boat ramp just below Chilhowee dam and paddle over to the mouth of Citico Creek. You might even see Bald Eagles along the way.

You don’t have to have a big boat with a bigger motor to enjoy our waterways. A paddleboard, kayak, or canoe are far better.

Slow down and sit at a downtown café or coffee shop. We’ve got ‘em and they’re really cool places. And if one of those places has a musical performance, try that too. You might be amazed at the local talent.

Our country roads can be great places to bike but, dadgumit, bikers—respect the rules of the road. Stay to the right. Observe all traffic laws. If there is a group ride, stay in single file or, if there are a bunch of you, stay in a double line.

Cars, trucks, and motorcycles—please respect the right of the bicycle rider to be on those roads too. They’re not out there to slow you down or get in your way.

Hopefully you get my point. We have a wonderful place to work, live, and play. Take advantage of what is at your doorstep. Love your neighbor. Embrace our differences, what makes us unique.

We can’t be Bentonville. We can be better.

One. More. Conversation.

 

At one point in time, we all want it. Maybe when we get kids of our own. Maybe as we get older. I know I have. We wish for something. Just One. More. Conversation. With somebody no longer around.

For me, it’s my Dad. He died in 1997 a week after he turned 84. I can tell you that he lived a lot longer than he should have.

At 45, he had his first heart attack. Back then, cardiac science consisted of blood thinners. Period. That’s it. I can remember going with him to UT Hospital on a regular basis to get his blood checked.  I don’t recall how often he went, but that visit determined the level of Coumadin that he took.

He returned to work in the factory where he had been, but then, at 55, he had another heart attack. This time, he was forced into retirement. That was when he learned of the other part of cardiac care—a sedentary lifestyle.

And when I say “sedentary lifestyle,” I mean he was not allowed to do anything. No exercise. No lifting. No hunting or fishing. Nothing.

His garden—I took care of that.  His bees—I did all the work, he just supervised. We didn’t have a clothes dryer back then and he was forbidden from even hanging clothes on the clothesline that we used to dry our clothes. I did that while my Mom worked.  Such was cardiac science back then.

My Dad was an uneducated man. He dropped out of school in the 6^th grade after his own father died, and went to work in a factory in his small hometown. During the Depression, the factory closed so he moved to Knoxville and lived in one room in the basement of an old building and worked wherever he could find work, sending money back home to his mom and sisters.

I realized in more recent years that my Dad was likely illiterate.  I don’t recall ever seeing him read and his signature was crude and simple. Yet, he was a really smart man. He could fix anything. He built a motorized ice cream freezer, when hand cranked was how everyone else did it back then.

When I was 10 and dying for a go-cart, he built me one out of parts and wood that he had around his garage. It was crude but I remember proudly driving it in the 4^th of July parade.

When I was in high school and playing football, he could never attend. His cardiologist forbade it. Too much excitement. He would sit at home, listening to my games on the radio.

As a college senior, I received an award that I was ready to blow off. I just wanted to graduate and get on to physical therapy school in Memphis. A wise professor told me that not only would I be there, but my parents were to be there as well.

At the awards ceremony, I nonchalantly went to the stage to receive this award, thinking at the time that it was no big deal. But when I turned to return to my seat, I saw my Dad. This little, simple man, who had known nothing but hard labor and hardship his whole life, sobbing where he sat.

I realized what that award and that college degree meant to my Dad.  All his dreams wrapped up in me. All that he could not accomplish, I could accomplish. All that he might have hoped to become, I became.

He lived long enough for my own kids to know their “Pops,” but he didn’t get to see them become a doctor and a lawyer and parents. He wasn’t around to meet my own grandkids. I wish he had. He didn’t live to see me become Dr. Black. He would have been so proud.

I do wish I had one more conversation with him. I know exactly what I would ask him. Dad, how did I do?

The Way It Should Be

 

I’m going to leave the names out of this, just because I hope it applies to teams everywhere.

I was on the sidelines of a middle school football game recently. The game was out of hand, with the home team way ahead. About that time, a rather diminutive safety made an interception.

Now, keep in mind that the game was, for all practical purposes over.  The starters had long since been relegated to the bench.  For most teams, that means that those that had played most of the game would be found on the bench, getting some well-deserved rest. Maybe chatting among themselves.

Not so for this team. Everybody on the team was up, fully engaged in the game. And when this youngster made that interception, those on the sidelines erupted in joyous celebration.

Raucous, jumping-up-and-down celebration. Like they had just scored to win the game. It wouldn’t have surprised me if they had carried this young man off the field.

And then, a few minutes later, another player on this team broke for a long run and a touchdown. Another kid that maybe didn’t play a lot. Same thing. Back-slapping, high-fiving joy. Nobody was sitting down. Everybody was still in the game, despite the lopsided score in their favor.

THIS is what I want out of team sports Unabashed support for teammates. It is one of the glories of sports.  In a day when it seems like college and professional athletes are in it only for themselves.  Or the money. Or both.

My friends in college football are simply shaking their heads and wringing their hands over what their game has become. NIL money. The portal.

Those things can be good. I can remember kids on my son’s college team that didn’t have enough money to go get a burger down the street. That when we showed up with pizza, we knew to have several. A little spending money would have been a good thing but that was something they simply didn’t have.

Now you’ve got a quarterback driving a Rolls-Royce and living in a multi-bedroom condo. If you’re a star of the team (meaning not a lineman), you can make millions.

There was a story (verified) last year of a college basketball player that couldn’t decide whether to enter the WNBA draft or stay in college. Apparently she wasn’t ready for the pay cut.

And the portal. Oh my goodness. The portal. Get mad at a coach—enter the portal. Not playing enough—enter the portal.  Having to wait until you’re an upperclassman to start—enter the portal.

Forget the fact that the college has already paid for a whole lot of your education. That’s not why you’re there. And to be fair, a lot of colleges treat you that way—that you’re there to play a sport and your education is incidental to that.

I get it when the coach that recruited you and promised you they would be there for your college career bolts for another school for more money.  Under the old rules, you were stuck with whatever coach your school decided to hire. Or transfer and sit out a year.

But entering the portal because the coach at your old school yelled at you too much, or who you felt was just too hard on you—not good.  If you’re always looking for greener pastures, you might just find that they are all the same.

Folks, it’s just a game. And quite frankly, I want that team support, that camaraderie, that enthusiasm for the least of these and the game itself that I found on that middle school football field.

Balance for Life

 

I get stopped often. Complete strangers will come up to me and tell me “I read your column in the newspaper.” It really does happen a lot and I’m grateful that people find something of value in my words in this space.

I guess if there is a target audience for what I’m trying to say here, it would be active individuals. Or parents of athletes. Hopefully those that are trying to get healthier.  But I do tend to cover a lot of topics.  In 40 years (it’s official now), I’ve covered everything imaginable.

If you’re paying attention, you will notice that I stay away from politics and religion. This is not the place for that. My choice. 

I just let people decide for themselves where I stand. I am spiritual and I am, I guess, political. Political in that I believe we should all vote and participate in the practice of democracy.

I am an active participant in the legislative process, visiting Nashville and Washington DC often. It’s pretty much always about physical therapy and health care issues, advocating for our patients. There’s a saying in the legislature that “you’re either at the table or somebody is eating your lunch.” I choose to be at the table. Have been for a long time. 

I find myself advocating for the needs of senior citizens more and more. Maybe it’s because I’m now in that demographic, but it really might be more because I see shortages and inequities in the health care we provide our elder citizens.

And what made me think about those seniors today is that it seems like that is more and more the population that reads my column. At least those are the folks that mention it. So this one’s for you.

It doesn’t seem like younger folks read newspapers much. My kids haven’t reached for the printed version in years and I now find myself reading the online version pretty much every day. Welcome to today’s world, I guess.

I really do miss the actual newspaper, printed on paper. Sunday morning with a cup of coffee and my Sunday paper was divine. But us senior citizens have to adapt. So, I read my online edition.

And since it seems like the geriatric set is a large part of my readership, today’s message is all about you.

More specifically, about falling. Everyone fears falling, with good reason. Of those that fall and break their hip, about a fourth die within the year.  So, you don’t want to fall.  But there’s hope--balance can be trained up. Many falls can be prevented.

There are lots of things you can do.  Staying active helps. Going for a walk every day is important. Moving your body is crucial.

There are some specific exercises you can do.  First, find a flat surface, clear of obstacles, and within arm’s reach of something you can grab to stabilize yourself. If you feel insecure, have someone stand nearby. Stand on one leg. Stand on the other leg. Stand on one leg with your eyes closed. Stand on one leg and swing your arms around.

Stand on one leg and reach out and step on spots around the floor with the other foot.  Try standing on a pillow. The variations are endless. Now here’s the thing—you’ve got to do it every day.  Maybe even a couple of times per day.

And strength training. You simply must do it. Without it, you just get progressively weaker. I don’t care how active you are or how much you hate it—you’ve got to do it.

It just makes sense that if you are stronger, you are going to be more stable, more able prevent falls. Strength training not only stabilizes the core, but it strengthens the bones.  And if you do fall, maybe you’re less likely to break a bone.  ‘

It’s just common sense if you think about it. Those systems that can keep you from falling (balance, strength, focusing on your surroundings) can be learned.  At any age.  And if these strategies can keep you from falling, you’ve won.