By chance, this fan was a 21-year-old amputee who lost his leg to cancer. He had just received word from his oncologist that he'd no longer require chemotherapy and that his cancer treatment had been successful. Guthrie and this young man, a stand-up comedian named Woody Roseland, hit it off and quickly grew into friends.
Unfortunately for me, I have yet to be able to come up with such a chance opportunity to meet an inspirational person such as Woody Roseland during my days of throwing. I've tweeted about throwing a few times, but unlike Guthrie I don't have tens of thousands of followers and therefore don't have the luxury of having anyone- let alone such an individual as Woody Roseland- to voluntarily respond and offer to throw with me.
This reality has grown into quite the frustrating reality as time has gone on in my throwing sessions. My protocol states a very specific curriculum for me to follow in order to ensure that my arm returns to 100% strength and health. Since I am certainly not as knowledgable as anyone that was involved with producing that protocol, I am in no position to question or argue the reasons or motives behind what is written for me. Therefore, I try to act as a puppet as much as possible...I do exactly what the doctors say for me to do.
As time has gone on, the tasks for me to complete have increased. In the very beginning, a lot of what I was required to was simple stretching techniques in order to do away with the mass assemblage of muscular atrophy throughout my left arm. From there, I was required to complete work with exercise bands in order to improve the range of motion in the aforementioned muscle groups. From there, it was onto exercises with weights in order to continue to strengthen those muscles. Then, throwing. And throwing and throwing and throwing. For months, the throwing has progressed into stages, and now I am nearing the stage where I can begin to throw simulated games. I can long toss as far as I'd like to and I can throw curveballs off the mound with ease.
As time has gone on and those workouts have compounded on each other, much of the stress that has been correlated with my recovery has involved scheduling, and more specifically, finding a throwing partner. I'd need someone who would be willing and able to long toss with me and willing and able to catch the bullpen sessions I needed to throw. With virtually no assistance from the head athletic trainer from my school outside of what I was able to complete within the confines of the training room, much of the scheduling and completion of my protocol has rested on me, and solely me.
I've thrown in a gym, in a dome, on a soccer field, on a football field, on a lacrosse field, on a softball field, on a farm. I've thrown in scorching sunshine, in pouring rain, in driving hail and in blinding snow. I've thrown with teammates, classmates, roommates, family members, friends, softball players, lacrosse players, tennis players, volleyball players. I've found random people- male or female- that have a glove and were up for sacrificing a little time to stand there and receive the throws I needed to make.
The process of finding throwing partners is not always easy. Sometimes, when the weather is too bad or people are simply unavailable (obviously they can't be blamed for having other responsibilities), I've thrown in my living room. I take a long baseball sock and tie a knot in the area where the toes go. Then I put it over my hand and put a watch onto my wrist over it, in order to ensure the sock doesn't slip. I leave about a three inch gap between my hand and the knot, and then I wind up and throw a baseball into the toe area of the sock. For an example, here you go: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jMg3sE-eH9E
While the logistical issues that are involved with my throwing program certainly haven't been easy, I'm incredibly appreciative of the opportunities that I've had to accomplish all of these things. Spending days standing on a football field throwing to a former high school softball player in a snowstorm is not fun. Standing in my living room and crow-hopping the ball into the end of a sock is not thrilling. I want to stand on a mound in the center of a diamond and release a ball towards home plate, with a catcher and a batter and an umpire waiting for my pitch and a filled grandstand of fans enjoying the game in front of them.
I appreciate all the times that I spent throwing with no one around in miserable conditions or in not-so-perfect scenarios (Ie: 6 AM in the back corner of a basketball court in January). The mental toughness that has been required of me throughout those times has brought upon more perseverance and patience than I ever knew I was capable of. And those times, those dreadful times when I was forced to complete my throwing program, are all beginning to accumulate in my mind so that once the day comes that I actually am able to step back on the rubber and pitch to a live batter, it'll be that much more self-gratifying.
With all that being said, I'm going to cut this blog post off. It's nearly 4 PM here in New York and with rain continuing to pour outside, I have to go throw on a pair of shorts and tie the knot in my sock. Hopefully my roommates won't mind the living room table being moved out of the way so I can complete my surrogate long toss for the day. Not throwing is, after all, not an option.
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