Give Them A Break

 

This one is going to make a few folks unhappy.  And maybe a few more folks squirm a bit. 

But what I’m about to write about is backed by science, experience, and common sense—the magical triumvirate that reaches beyond argument.

And no less an authority that Dr. Jim Andrews has made this topic his late career mission.  If you don’t know who Dr. Andrews is, let me introduce you.  He’s only the leading sports orthopedist in history. Sure, that’s my opinion, but people who know that arena are likely to agree with me.

 Dr. Andrews is the founder of Andrews Sports Medicine and Orthopaedic Center in Birmingham and co-founder of the American Sports Medicine Institute, a non-profit organization dedicated to injury prevention, education, and research.

Even in semi-retirement, he serves the University of Alabama, Auburn University, and the Washington Commanders and Tampa Bay Buccaneers of the NFL.  Among his celebrity patients are Bo Jackson, Charles Barkley, Roger Clemens, Michael Jordan, Drew Brees, Triple H, and Brett Favre.

 Dr. Andrews’ research has pointed to a drastic increase in injuries among young athletes.  “What we’ve seen is a five- to sevenfold increase in injury rates in youth sports across the board. The systems out there in youth sports, particularly travel ball, have been important financial resources for the people who run them. Parents spend a fortune keeping their kids in a year-round sport, with travel and everything else. What’s happening is, the tail is wagging the dog. The systems are calling the shots: If your son or daughter doesn’t play my sport year-round, he or she can’t play for me. Never mind that your kid is 12 — I need year-round dedication.”

 And therein is the problem.  Youth sport injuries are rampant. I’ve seen the same thing.  Most of the injuries among young athletes are overuse injuries, although there has been a definite uptick in more catastrophic injuries as well.  12 year olds with ACL tears used to be rare—now they happen at an alarming rate.

 Before you call me a hypocrite, let me tell you that I have two grandchildren that play a single sport year-round. High school to club and back again. And my own kids narrowed it down to a single sport before they finished high school.

I get it. I will also say the system is flawed. Let me offer a couple of solutions. The best advice is to let your child play multiple sports.  Sports specialization early is a huge mistake. It just doesn’t work. They won’t develop the athleticism to truly excel at sport, regardless of what sport they ultimately settle on.

But, if your child has narrowed their sports participation down to one sport, then let them take time off.  Every year.  2-3 months, minimum. And use that time to get stronger, faster, better.

 

Dr. Andrews final advice: “Give them time off to recover. Please. Give them time to recover.”

 

End of Cramp Season?

 

We might be near the end of Cramp Season, but it still shows up here and there.  “Cramp Season?”  What is that (you might ask)? Well, I just made it up. Cramp Season is that time of year when you might see an athlete writhing on the field, with muscles in spasm.

What is a cramp? If you know, you know. But from a sort-of medical perspective, a cramp is when a muscle forcibly contracts without an injury.  It most often happens toward the end of a great physical effort, usually toward the end of the game. And usually (but not always) in hot weather.

A term has actually been created to define it—Exercise Associated Muscle Cramps (EAMC).  The dreaded EAMC.  You laugh now, but if you have one, you won’t be laughing. 

If you’re that athlete, you think you might die, while that hamstring or calf muscle spasms up and convinces you that the end is near.  For us old folks, it still happens, but a study that I just made up indicates that it most often happens at night to us senior citizens. 

If you are an athlete, you’ve probably experienced EAMC.  If you’re a spectator, you’ve surely witnessed it.  The athlete is laying on the ground when someone nearby grabs their leg and holds it straight up in the air.  Somehow, that relieves some of the spasms.

Why would a muscle cramp like that?   There is certainly a neuromuscular component, but that may just be a protective mechanism where your body is just telling you that your body has had enough.

Muscle exhaustion is another source of cramps.  That one may also be that muscle’s chemistry telling you that it was not going to cooperate with further activity.

Most of the time, the blame is on dehydration and loss of electrolytes.  Heavy sweating can flush a lot of essential electrolytes from your system, again creating a mechanical or chemical response where the muscle goes into spasm. And it just makes sense that we sweat more in hot weather or with heavy exercise. Put the two together and the potential for cramping is obvious.

What to do?  Well, immediately it helps to stretch on the muscle involved. That’s why you see teammates grabbing the leg and stretching it up.  Gentle massage helps.  Even if you think you’re going to die first, it will subside.

It’s a whole lot better to prevent cramps.  That is done by being in great shape—conditioning is huge. But even then, it can happen. That’s where hydration and electrolyte replacement come in. Water is OK, but if you only hydrate with water, then you might develop a condition known as hyponatremia, which is where all those essential electrolytes are flushed out of your body. I’ve seen whole body cramps from hyponatremia.

No, you need sports drinks heavy on electrolytes and not those that are full of sugar (although some sugar helps those electrolytes get absorbed better).  Before, during, and after.

And if you are over the worst part of a cramp, you need to eat something sour. That’s right…sour.  Studies (not mine) have proved conclusively that it is the sour taste that triggers some neuromuscular mechanism that inhibits the cramp.  That’s why some folks swear by pickle juice—it isn’t the pickles or the juice, but the sour.  I use a variety of products but good ol’ fashioned Sweet Tarts may be about as good as anything. 

Life's Moments

 

I’ve told this story before, but I believe it is worth telling again.

I was probably ten years old, attending a basketball game at the old Loudon High School up on the hill above downtown Loudon. Times were different then. I’m pretty sure my dad dropped me off at the front door with enough money to cover admission and a bag of popcorn.

This was one of those old gyms where everything in sight was made of wood. There was a narrow balcony running the length of the court on both sides, maybe three rows of seats each.

Growing up, it seemed quite big, certainly bigger than anything else I had ever seen. I remember the same thing about the church that I grew up in—First Baptist Church of Loudon.

I remember thinking how huge the sanctuary was in that church and when the choir loft behind the preacher was full, well…I could imagine it all as quite heavenly. Returning later as a seasoned adult of 24, it seemed positively tiny, especially after attending church at Bellview Baptist in Memphis.

I was with my friend Jimmy Greenway, sitting on the balcony near the entrance to the gym.  This would have been about 1963 and bouffant hair-do’s were all the rage among the women of the day. This was a fashion where a female’s hair was piled up high on top of their head.

Jimmy and I were actually sitting on the edge of the balcony, dangling our legs off the edge, taking some of that popcorn and trying to drop into some of those poofy hair-do’s as our victims entered the gym.

We took great delight when we hit our target. That’s where the real story starts.

Sitting just behind us was a young mom and her son Jay Barker. Jay had some mild physical issues that I understand more today, but he was a great kid with a great smile. I later got to know him well.

After another successful popcorn drop, Jay’s mom turned to him and said “don’t turn out to be like those boys.” It hit me like a brick. I remember it clearly to this day and if that gym is still standing, I can take you to the exact spot it all happened. 

I was a good kid. Boy Scouts (later an Eagle). Royal Ambassadors. Straight A’s. Paper route. Responsible. But that moment changed me for life. From that point on, I have never forgotten my personal responsibility to be a good example to everyone, especially kids. That somebody is watching me, maybe learning how to treat other people.

This week at a football game, I witnessed an episode where an adult on the chain gang turned and taunted the players on one team after his son’s team scored a touchdown. I intervened (maybe I shouldn’t have) and asked the fellow to be a bit more professional. I’ll not repeat his response. The school’s AD did address the situation at halftime.

I’ll not even pretend that I think this might reach that fellow, but if it did, I would want him to know that he’s an adult and that kids are watching adults to learn how to behave. How to act.

Adults, teens, pre-teens—pretty much everybody…there’s a good chance that some child is watching you, seeking input on how to behave.

Do better. Be better. Little eyes are watching.

Probably...maybe...I don't know

 

Local bicycle rider Jackie Taylor was hit recently, while riding her bike on Old Walland Highway. A car hit her, left her unconscious in the ditch beside the road, and sped away.  There were witnesses to attest to that. 

Think about this. Old Walland Highway has been a haven for cyclists for many years.  Bikers will often park just beyond Coulter Bridge and ride, maybe to Townsend and back.  Since Highway 321 parallels Old Walland Highway, it just makes sense that if you’re in a car and in a hurry, you take 321. 

It hasn’t been that long since we’ve had a couple of deaths with bicycle riders. Here in Blount County. I wrote a bit recently about Joyce Frey, a wonderful lady that was riding alone on a quiet stretch of Old Niles Ferry Road out in the county, when she was hit and killed.  That driver sped away too. 

Then I read about Michael Perior who was hit and killed while riding on his bicycle in Maryville. I didn’t know him and I don’t know the circumstances…other than that he was on a bicycle and is now gone.

You may have read about the cycling team from Milligan University where a driver plowed into the team, killing two and sending seven to the hospital.

I ride bikes. I’ve spent many thousands of miles riding a bike on the country lanes around here. For 25+ years, Steve Bright and I led a group of riders on Saturday morning rides.

Every rider I know has had something thrown at them. A buddy once picked up a perfectly good wrench that had hit him in the back. Another friend just told me this week that he was hit by a full Slushy.  Beer cans. Spit cups. Random trash.

I’ve been cussed so many times for riding (safely, legally) on the roads that it no longer surprises me.

Are we our own worst enemy? Yes. I will never stop preaching road safety and road etiquette to riders. 

Do we have the right to be on the roads?  Absolutely.  Tennessee state law protects us and protects that right.

Is it safe?  I don’t know. I know my wife is in anguish when I head out on my bike, not knowing if I will come home or not.

What has gotten into people?  Why do so many people hate us for enjoying the countryside and getting some exercise? Why are they so angry?  Why would anyone hit something, anything, with their car and then drive off?

Is it distracted driving?  That’s a problem. For sure. Texting while driving has been conclusively shown to be about the same as driving drunk.

Traffic, even way out in the county, has gotten crazy. It seems like there are 20-30 unit subdivisions all over the place, in areas where we used to have family farms. With all that housing comes tons of traffic. 

Do we need bike lanes?  Well, yeah.  That would be nice.  But it’s not practical and I don’t see it happening in my lifetime.  Our Greenbelt is awesome but shared with walkers and runners.  That makes it dangerous for both of us.  And the motorized vehicles on our Greenbelt…well, that’s another story. 

Will I ride?  I don’t know. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know.