Good Morning....this is a quickie as I wait for Tink to get dressed. We are headed to school and NOT Florida....yes, you read this correctly....college...not the airport where I would have bought a $5.00 bottle of water as I boarded the overcrowded plane on my way to high 70's and sunny weather....nope, I am going to the mountains to pick up my son...Why, you may ask....here is an abridged or cliff notes version of a lengthy story....
As readers know, the big leftie has had tendonitis. The shoulder has been sore for months and we let the team specialists treat him. All is well except, he is not better. yesterday, in his bullpen, he had to stop throwing and was "shut down" by the coach. "Shut down" means he cannot throw any more and is NOT on the plane to Florida. Instead, Dog took his ticket.
I wanted to cry for him and what this means, but I didn't because this is not life or death. This injury can be tended to with the right therapy. I have no doubts that the team doctor absolutely knows what he is doing, but it is time for the second opinion.
The question is now, does he 'red shirt' this season to heal and maintain his eligibility? Or does he rest the shoulder and spin the wheel in the hopes that he heals in a few weeks? By waiting, he might have to forgo eligibility and not have a stellar season but a mediocre one.
We are perplexed and must make a big decision sooner rather than later. once he formally throws a pitch, he loses the opportunity to red shirt. So, what does BP mom do?
I'll tell you...she finds out who the shoulder specialist is for the major league team, the Phillies, and begs him for an appointment...not just begs him, but makes him her world famous chocolate cheesecake and perhaps Paula Deen's Uncle Bob's Apple cake or maybe both.
So, the plan was simple...since he was not going to Florida with the team today, through Dr. G, we found out the name of the doctor. I said a quick prayer and was prepared to literally beg his receptionist for an appointment in the next week. I was going to grovel and send her flowers with a note and perhaps a ten dollar bill. I was going to camp out at the office and offer to wash his car. I had plans...many of them...plan A through F were about to be enacted when I made the phone call to the office.
The receptionist could not be nicer. In fact, she was lovely as she said to me....how about tomorrow morning at 8 am? I was ready to ask her for a closer time than in 2013, when what she had said hit me in the frontal lobe...tomorrow? 8 am? my son? the specialist for the Phillies? Curt Shilling? huh? really? I don't have to make a cheesecake? Heck yeah...wow...yeah...sure, I can get the reports from the college doctor. Sure, I can get into the car and pick the kid up and drive for 6 hours. No sweat...no problem. I was supposed to take a 6 hour flight to Florida. So what if I drive instead? Yeah...OK...time to run...gas up the tank...see you tomorrow...
And so, I am on my way...more tomorrow....
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