The Power of Touch

We have always referred to some sports as "contact sports."   For most of the history of this phrase, it was used to describe football.  Surely it was applied to some other sports but most of them aren't played around here.

Somewhere along the way, some creative writer (not me) started saying that basketball was a contact sport while football was a "collision sport."  That seems altogether correct.

I don't think that anybody could watch a basketball game today and deny that it has become a contact sport.   I would add that soccer is definitely a contact sport.  Again, watch one and tell me that you disagree.

If you think about it, a lot of our sports involve some contact.  Getting tagged out in baseball and softball.  Collisions at the net in volleyball.  Most definitely wrestling.

Most "individual" sports don't have much contact though.  Tennis doesn't, for sure.  Swimming, gymnastics, and golf--not at all.  But then, most of the time those are also team sports and the teams sure do a lot of hugging and high-five-ing and all

But those truly individual pursuits--think Tiger Woods against the world--seem so lonely.  You get beat and it is all on you.  It seems such a lonely place.  Maybe Tiger just needed more comforting hugs along the way.

We probably all need more hugging.  We tend to underestimate The Power of Touch.  I truly believe that a life without the physical contact of another human being is empty and hollow. 

I also happen to think that one of the great things about sport is the contact.  I believe that physical contact on a playing field is part of the appeal of sport (but then, I'm more of a team sport kind of guy).

I see people routinely that just seem to need a hug.  With that being said, I'm just not a hugger.  I told the story here a couple of years ago that despite the fact that I'm in a profession that depends on touching, I am very careful about touching people. 

That observation was misinterpreted that I don't like touching.  Not true.  I just feel that it is an important part of the professionalism that my patients expect of me.   I remember when one employee decided to quit working for us and stay home and keep her newborn.  She got a hug from me and later expressed surprise at it.

Maybe what she got was more my true self.

I watch tiny Nicky Nick in the incubator in the NICU at Children's and all I really want to do is to bundle him up and hold and rock and talk to him around the clock.   Surely that would be the right thing to do, considering he was taken way too early from the comfort and warmth of his mother's womb.

Alas, that's not what medical science tells us that he needs.   But for everybody else, it may be exactly what we need.

 

How are you doing with those NYR's?

It's March 24th.  Spring has arrived (at least on the calendar).  How are you doing with those New Year's Resolutions? 

If you remember my 1/1/13 column, you might also remember that I don't do resolutions.   Other than Benton's bacon.  Still going strong on that one, every Sunday morning.

But most people do make New Year's Resolutions (NYR's).   Resolve to get healthier, spend more time with the family, less TV, better food, et cetera, et cetera.

Gym memberships boom in January as droves of folks make a commitment to exercise on a regular basis.  They generally do too, until the end of January or, at the very latest, the beginning of spring, when warm weather makes time in the gym seem a waste.

For exercise to make a difference in your life, you've got to adopt it as part of your lifestyle.  A gym membership can be a great first step but until you truly resolve to make a difference in your personal life, until you decide that exercise is going to be a part of your regular week, you might just be wasting your money and your commitments.

And weight loss.   We live in the 3rd most obese state in America.  Where well over 1 in 3 of our fellow Tennesseeans are obese.    In a personal survey conducted randomly by yours truly, I found that the #1 most common NYR is to lose weight.   Most people listed the poundage they wanted off.   For most it was 20 (although I swear it should probably be 40).

There have got to be a million diets out there and most of them don't work.   It is mostly about calories in versus calories out but we also know that we can manipulate our metabolism to our advantage by eating regularly.   That means that you don't miss meals and eat snacks in mid-morning and mid-afternoon.

Cut out sodas.  The sugar content in those is obscene.  You could switch to diet sodas if you aren't  too concerned about bone health and those sorts of things.  Cut back on fried food and sweets.   That latter one is a NYR that's possible until Aunt Matilda brings by her Red Velvet Cake or Death By Chocolate.

You just gotta be strong.  And committed. 

A lot of NYR's are about turning off the TV.   In another column not too long ago, I admitted to the embarrassing fact that I was watching more TV.  I even knew the time that something besides the 6 o'clock news was on.  Much to my wife's chagrin, I do occasionally watch Duck Dynasty and have been known to quote Si but for the most part, you will rarely find me in front of the television.

Other things uncovered in my survey--see more sunrises, dance more, laugh more--are just a matter of not missing opportunities for those things.  My buddy Pete Dolan took the opportunity on an icy day to visit Ramsey Cascades when I passed on it.   Shoulda done that one.

So, how ARE you doing with those New Year's Resolutions?   Are you healthier?  Happier?  Did you set goals that are achievable and then commit your lifestyle to getting there?

Little Nicky Nick and The Rocket

I got some serious one-on-one time with a 23 month old recently. 

Let me back up...my latest grandchild, Nichols Andrew Black, II, decided he needed to arrive a little early.  8 weeks early to be exact. 

This all came as a bit of a surprise.   When my wife called me on that Thursday afternoon and asked me where I was and what I was doing, I knew for sure that she wasn't being nosy.   Something was up.

She said "I need you to come to Knoxville as soon as you can...we're having a baby."  Obviously there were some issues.  The decision to take the baby was swift yet calm and calculated. 

A little after 9 that evening, little (and I do mean little--3 pounds, 2.5 ounces) Nicky Nick got here.  My job was to take care of the 23 month old sibling, Mariella.

Lock, stock, and barrel.  Me and her, 24 hours a day until sometime Sunday morning.   Meals, baths, diapers, naps, bedtime stories, cartoons, visits to see Mom and Dad--all that stuff.   I put her to bed at night and was there when she woke up in the morning.

Dad stayed with Mom while my wife stayed with Nicky Nick in the NICU at East Tennessee Children's Hospital.  

And let me pause for a non-paid announcement here:  What a wonderful place!   First class care.  Compassionate and understanding staff.  A facility dedicated to the care of babies delivered prematurely.  In the years to come, we will all be grateful to Children's Hospital for how well they took care of the newest Black child.

Now let me go back even a little further.   The day before the birth, we had buried my good friend Steve Newman.  At 52, Steve had died suddenly and unexpectedly.  An avid biker, I can sum up my insight on him by saying he was a genuinely good guy;  someone that you always looked forward to seeing.

Obviously that week was an emotional roller coaster for me.  Sadness at my friend's passing.   Fear of the unknown problems the new grandson was facing.   Concern for the baby's Mom.

So now it's Friday and it's all about Mariella and Daddy Joe.  She didn't care what I wore, who I was, or how much was in my bank account.  She wanted to feel safe and comfortable in my arms. 

She wanted three books and two songs before climbing in bed.  She wanted milk and Mickey when she woke up.  She ate most of what I cooked and even liked my Benton's bacon (so the girl definitely has taste).

And when help arrived, I moved down the priority list and that was alright.   I had my time and things were likely changed forever between us.

Mom and little Nicky Nick are both doing great.  He'll get to come home in several weeks.   Meanwhile, the NICU is his home.  Despite the anxiety of the first couple of days, it was wonderful to experience this new life.

But at the same time, I'm sure gonna miss my friend.

Preventing ACL Injuries: The Time is NOW!

I've been doing this stuff for over 35 years and it still hurts.  And it wasn't even my team.

Last Saturday night I was covering Alcoa High School's basketball game at Elizabethton for AHS Head Athletic Trainer Peggy Bratt, who was in Indiana for her mother's surgery.

Thirty-eight (38) seconds into the game, Kayla Newman went down with a knee injury that may prove to be a torn Anterior Cruciate Ligament (ACL).  At press time, the family was awaiting the results of diagnostic testing.

I can't tell you how many times I've travelled down this path with a young athlete but it's too many.  There are over 200,000 ACL injuries in this country every year, with over half of those requiring surgery.  Most of those occur while playing agility sports like football, basketball, and soccer.  About 30% of those involve contact while the rest are non-contact injuries.

A female is 8 times more likely to suffer a torn ACL than a male.    Indeed, it appears to be the female athlete injury of greatest consequence. 

Many factors contribute to this and I've addressed those in this space many times over the years.  Wider pelvis.  The increased joint laxity/flexibility found in most females.  Lack of muscular development.   The fact that young boys generally start sports years before young girls.

But I want to make one thing crystal clear today:   There are simple measures that you can take that will help prevent ACL injuries.  

First, look at your foot.  Are you flat footed?   Do you have a "pronated" foot?  (If you don't know the answer to that one, you might ask a physical therapist or podiatrist.)  If so, your risk for ACL injury is increased.   You need arch supports.   Not everyone needs custom orthotics.  Over-the-counter arch supports should do well and will, at least, help in your quest to reduce your risk for an ACL injury. 

How do you land from a jump?   Upon landing, are your knees together?   If so, you are at risk.

Do this:  stand with your feet shoulder width apart.   Your knees should be aligned with your feet and shoulders.  In other words, a line from your shoulder to your foot should go down the middle of your knee.  

Now jump down from a stool.  Upon landing, are your knees in that same position?  If so, you should be OK.  If not, there could be a problem.  It is amazing how many girls fail this simple test.  

You need to learn how to land from a jump.   You have to practice proper jumping technique.  That's where an athletic trainer might help.

Finally, you need to increase the strength of the muscles that externally rotate the hip.   That one's pretty hard to explain but a personal trainer or coach should be able to help you with that.  

That's it.  If we could get every female athlete in every middle school to do those three things, we would see a huge decrease in the incidence of ACL tears.

We will never complete eliminate ACL injuries but if we save one athlete from this devastating injury, the effort will have been worth it.  Especially if that one athlete is you.

 

Losing my Southern Card

I was born in the south, have lived here most of my life (so far), and own a pickup truck, but I may have to turn in my "Southern" card. 

I don't live and die by the SEC, I don't hunt or fish, did not particularly enjoy my one NASCAR experience, and have just never been that comfortable in a baseball cap (although I have been known to wear one from time to time).

I do like sweet tea but I seem to have lost most of my solidly southern accent.   I guess that's because of too many conversations with people that aren't from around here. Yeah, I know...I need to do something about that.

I don't own any camo but I think I can find a duck call somewhere.  I'm pretty sure I can still use it but I haven't tried in a really long time.  I own a canoe but that doesn't really give me many Southern points because it doesn't have a motor.

There isn't much fried food around my house which should definitely cost me Southern points but the health reasons for avoiding anything fried are at the top of my priority list.   Oh, but there is that little catfish place near my house that everyone knows I have a regular hankering for (and they opened Friday, by the way).

So what makes someone Southern?  I think it is less about where you were born but more about where your heart is.   (Although Florida snow-birds are not really southern at all--they just learned how miserable northern winters can be.)

And about that.  I want snow that is more of an occasional nuisance, not a way of life.  My biking buddy T just moved to Massachusetts where the bike season runs roughly from Memorial Day to Labor Day.  For sure not for me.

I do like to travel and do often find myself north of the Mason-Dixon Line.  I can find my way around New York on the subway and can tell you where to find a good restaurant in dozens of cities.   But the emphasis is on "visiting" those places.  I never really wanted to live there.

I did spend a couple of years in West Virginia but I usually refer to that as my sabbatical, if non-ministers can have those sorts of things. 

I don't fly the flag of the Confederacy but that is because it offends some and I was always taught that I don't have the right to be offensive (check with King James on that one).  Besides that, my southern ancestors were the poor folks, not the ones waging war.

I love a slower pace, four seasons, the sound of tree frogs, warm waters, and accents where the vowels are all drawn out and single syllable words can become multiples.

I love good manners and places where it is bad form not to say yes m'am or no sir and where it is totally unacceptable not to respect your elders.

I always want to live in a place where you can find barbed wire and barns, where there's more than one hay season, and where you know from mama's bawl when her calf is being weaned. I do love to listen to the northern loons but I'll be just fine with the call of the quail and the haunting message of the whippoorwill. 

Born here.  Bred here.  Gonna spend the rest of my life living here.   Maybe more cosmopolitan or "metro" than my upbringing might have been expected to produce but my heart is firmly planted in Dixie.

The Assist that counted most

Aaron Eakins was an offensive whiz on the basketball court.  When he graduated from William Blount High School in 2005, he was their all-time leading scorer.  To say he could light it up is pretty accurate.

While at William Blount, he was All-County twice and All-District Tournament 3 times.  He made several other all-tournament teams including being named the tournament MVP his senior year at the Sequoyah Christmas Classic.

Despite that scoring prowess, he was still team player.  I talked last week about a "Basketball Jones." Aaron was definitely that kind of basketball player-a real student of the game. 

Yet, he was never really known for his assists.

Phil Eakins is a 36 year employee of the Blount County Parks & Rec Department. A talented athlete in his own right, Phil was a 3 sports letterman at Townsend High School in the early 70’s.

Phil lost a kidney when he was 19. He's 58 now and really didn't have much problems in the intervening years but had a light heart attack in 2008.  Treatment for that damaged the other kidney but it was still able to function at a 20% capacity.

But by early 2011, his kidney function had dropped to 16% and dialysis was looming. It was time to search for a donor.   As is most often the case, the best chance for a match was from Phil’s immediate family.   Phil’s wife, Dena was tested first, but was not a match. However 3 of his children, Tommie, Melissa, and Aaron were.  The decision was soon made…his son Aaron wanted to be the one to provide the kidney for his dad.

Phil began dialysis on March 20th of 2012 as his kidney function continued to decrease. His stamina suffered but he felt quite good for the most part and continued to work. While in dialysis, Phil really felt out of place.  "These people were sick.  I really wasn't.  I felt like I was taking up resources that could better be used by someone else."

At the time, Phil's son Aaron was working for Ruby Tuesday in St. Augustine.    In June of 2012 he moved home to prep for surgery, which was performed on  October 2nd of 2012. Phil flew thru the post-op.  That's typical for this type of kidney transplant.  However, the process was far more painful for Aaron,  which is very common for the donor.

 
For Phil, life since he got a new kidney has been good.  He has a better quality of life and feels healthier than he was at 40.   He also has a very special place in his heart for people on dialysis and what they go thru daily.

As for Aaron, he’s taken a job with Publix at Turkey Creek and is doing well. He did have to explain the hole in his resume that was created by the transplant.

And he's finally known for his assists.

Basketball Jones!

I can still feel the ball rolling off my fingertips.  My eyes follow the arc of the ball until it swishes cleanly through the net.

It's been several months since my final basketball game and I still miss it dearly.  For most of my life, I've been a "Basketball Jones."  If Cheech and Chong mean nothing to you, that might not mean anything to you either.

But to me it means that I love to play basketball.  That I go to sleep at night thinking of a basketball game in which every shot goes in and maybe, oh maybe, I can dunk. 

I used to play all of the time.  Go back a little bit and you find me as part of lunch-time games every Tuesday and Thursday that my Mom swore would dictate when we held her funeral.  A standing game on Sunday evening started with Dr. Ken Bell and I in probably 1982 and lasted until the current millenium.

Go back even further and you would find me traveling all over town, looking for the best game.  Sandy Springs Park was the main place but games were to be found at Everett Park and at old school gyms all across the county.  Mentor, Alynwick, Walland...I knew 'em all.

I even used to head over to the Alcoa courts that used to be next to the Candy Store.  I didn't really fit in there but kids like Lester Whitted (maybe still the greatest all-around athlete I ever knew) and Dino Allen made sure I was welcome.  It helped that I could hit the 3 and was well aware of how valuable an assist was in that setting.

I used to go by and pick up Dawn Marsh and take her around with me sometimes.  Lots of games wouldn't let a girl in the game but I made sure that she got in.  And then she embarrassed them.  Every time.

Current colleague Rebecca Myers Morris and I share some memories of similar circumstances.  She and I picked up a friend of hers and a local high male player and sent a bunch of college guys here for the summer home in a huff (and with a loss).  An old guy, two girls, and a couple of high school kids thumped 'em.

While at UT-Memphis, I worked in the gym at the Student Center which means I could jump into a game pretty much anytime I wanted to.  I've known days when I would play until the tips of my fingers would blister.

You might ask yourself what sane 59 year old man loves basketball that much.  Let me be the first to tell you--this one.

Let me back up a bit.  I've told parts of this story before.

Back in the fall, I had some stomach problems that meant that I had to quit taking ibuprofen for several months.  What I found was that without the ibuprofen, basketball was really brutal on my knees. 

I can bike all day long without medical help but basketball is a different story.  I think I've got a lot of years left on the bicycle but every year on the basketball court was borrowed.

So I hung up my basketball shoes.  For good.  

But every once in a while, I'd just like to get out there one more time.  Hit the 3.  Shoot the reverse layup from the back side.  Experiences to build a dream on.