Showing posts with label The Arm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Arm. Show all posts

11 April 2016

The Most Important Baseball Book Is A Swamp

The Tommy John epidemic, my stomach turns and an eye roll image occupies my mind.  The word epidemic, in this context, is chosen when the person speaking wishes to gin up concern in his audience.  Epidemics, of course, result from infectious agents while pitchers bust UCLs by throwing a baseball. Properly translated, the message is that the incidence of ligament replacement surgery for arm injuries is increasing at epidemic proportions as pitchers at the professional and amateur levels are lying down on operating tables in record numbers.  That hard count concerns many and Jeff Passan's The Arm addresses this issue.  Passan intent is for his work will have far-reaching consequences.

We want every person involved with youth baseball to #ReadTheArm. I think it's an important book. I think you'llagree once you read it.
— Jeff Passan(@JeffPassan) March 23, 2016

The book familiarizes the reader with how elbow ligaments are torn and how the joint is repaired.  It opens with a description of the procedure that Frank Jobe created and performed on Tommy John.  Briefly, holes are drilled through bone.  A tendon is then procured from the patient or a cadaver, is laced through the holes, and ties the joint together.  Over time, the tendon transforms into a ligament.  Over time, players go through immense physical and mental challenges to return to the mound.  Over time, MLB continues to make, at best, half-hearted attempts to address what may have always been happening: throwing a ball destroys arms and crushes dreams.

Passan pays particular attention to the youth game in the United States and the one in Japan.  In the United States, he paints the sports medicine culture progressive, yet reactionary.  He describes youth baseball organizations in the throes of grabbing as much money as possible.  Passan uses Japan as foil.  The country is characterized as medically regressive.  The sport hampered with an obligation to follow a historical bushido-influenced baseball code which legitimizes practices like nagekomi.  This approach to pitching utlizes daily marathon throwing sessions to establish "perfect" throwing mechanics.  Of course, children in both countries though find themselves broken and in pain.  Neither appears to be addressing the situation well.

Interlaced between the 30,000 foot narrative are the two personal stories of Daniel Hudson and Todd Coffey.  Both are going through difficulties recovering from ligament revisions (second surgeries).  The long, slow, inch-by-inch rehabilitation process toys with the competitive mind and invites depression.  Individuals must practice extreme self-discipline and benefit greatly with a strong family support structure.  Throughout the book, Passan returns to them to give gravity, and sometimes levity, to this issue.

The fourth prong is Passan trying to wade through the swamp that is the field of arm injury prevention.  He tries to consolidate the efforts used to prevent arm injuries from happening in the first place.  He meanders through the sideshows of pitching gurus and snake oil salesmen to fall upon the work of Kyle Boddy and James Buffi.  To varying extends, both use scientific tools and foundations to develop applications to improve preventative approaches to avoid arm injuries as well as increase velocity.  The section is perhaps a bit too brief.  Passan familiarizes that there are many approaches currently trying to address this issue and that none will likely produce sound results beyond logical inference and case study success.

While reading, I did have three major contentions with the narrative presented and I will address them below.

On Youth Baseball
Major League Baseball drives baseball in this country, often indirectly.  MLB is notoriously reactionary and tends to be more concerned with optics than impact.  For example, the league's concern with steroids was limited to a bargaining chip against the union until congress became irrationally involved.  This resulted in a PED program that is focused on punishment as opposed to player health.  The arm injury issue is fairly similar.  Injuries have always been an issue, but with cries of "Think of the children!" increasing in volume MLB might decide to wield its clumsy hammer.

The playbook is simple.  The first thing MLB does is to lay blame elsewhere.  That target is Perfect Game and it is pretty clear in this book that the league's message has found its way into the pages.  Perfect Game came into being because MLB ignored amateur baseball and its members were not interested in joining forces to make scouting easier.  Perhaps, the clubs with better scouting departments did not want to make things easier for others.  Anyway, Perfect Game filled that hole by organizing showcases and tournaments to make it easier for amateurs to be seen by scouts.  In turn, scouts are thankful that Perfect Game streamlines the process to see the big named amateurs.

Of course, this service costs money to run.  Owners and employees like to support families as well as have nice things, so additional money will need to exchange hands.  Likewise, the customer base has to find all these services worth the money.  Once Perfect Game found the sweet spot for success, competitors came in.  Perfect Game then engages families of children as young as four and five in order to pipeline them into teen tournaments when they get older.  The problems inherent in the industry magnify with Perfect Game as a convenient target.

This too is how The Arm treats Perfect Game, as a target.  Parents and MLB are upset over arm injuries, but placing blame on the infrastructure that all parties desired is misguided.  The infrastructure is not the problem.  It merely highlights it while it tries to implement heralded approaches to keep arms safe.  Those heralded approaches are akin to alchemy, but implementing the best ideas around is the most one can expect of companies like Perfect Game.

This not to say that Perfect Game is a flawless moral actor in youth baseball.  The Arm notes that they present to parents of seven year olds reports that indicate whether their kid is on the same path as Mike Trout.  That is some vicious exploitation of parents and children.  There is no reason for them to publicly communicate that to parents because it is so misleading.  I would understand if they did that for internal records in order to figure out who to keep tabs on and provide invitations, but it is not something that parents are likely able to comprehend.  Then again, people like bells and whistles, so maybe the customer desires to be willingly misled.

The Arm also discusses how baseball in Japan is grueling.  It presents the Japanese style as a practice in recreational bushido.  Coaches demand total allegiance, unending repetition, and suffering.  Arm injuries are treated with throwing, which is a concept that American medicine abandoned 50 years ago.  While American medical counterparts are composed of individuals well-trained in tendon and ligament injuries, Japanese sports medicine appears to be dominated by bone specialists with passing knowledge of ligament replacement.  The Arm suggests that by ignoring ligament injuries, the Japanese way is regressive, but that might be more damning in relation to adult pitchers as opposed to children.  Of course, the demanding nature of Koshien (i.e., a pitcher throwing over 500 pitches is normal over the short length of the tournament) and daily practices appear to be absurd, but maybe they are not.

The Arm tends to make a Gonzo style narrative conclusion and then later dismantles that conclusion without much contemplation.  For instance, Passan is appalled at how the Japanese game tears up its youth.  That conclusion is later challenged with an adoring description of supposedly how Trevor Bauer turned himself into a wunderkind by throwing 360 days a year.  For the well-disciplined reader, this communicates how the industry is unsure how to solve this issue and acts almost completely on what simply sounds like a good idea.  Again, this is what alchemy is and a lot of smart people like Newton logically thought lead could be turned to gold.  Logic is quite important, but it can lead you down some errant rabbit holes.

Convoluted Section on Avoiding Injury
The Arm aggressively notes problems and then languidly searches for answers.  The whole thesis leads up to a brief section infatuated with the efforts of Kyle Boddy and, to a lesser extent, James Buffi.  Passan presents two individuals who many consider the most forward thinking arm researchers in the game.  Largely ignored are established researchers like Glen Flesig and his group at ASMI.  In that way, the book frames Boddy and Buffi as the future.

Personally, I know several smart baseball folks who believe in Boddy.  I also do not consider what Boddy does as science.  His work is more on an applied engineering scale or perhaps similar to a doctor using a medicine off label and publishing a case study.  Yes, there may be something there and it relies on established science, but Boddy is not carrying the scientific method forward.  Instead, his work relies on lottery tickets to establish the perception of success.  Without the amazing success of Casey Weathers, Boddy would not have much to point toward.  One could just as easily focus on Nick Hagadone who did not reap benefits by working with Boddy.  As with most pitching success mantras, people forget the failure and provide a narrative for the success.

Boddy can implement a wide range of peer-reviewed mechanics papers into his approaches.  While the foundation of his work is connected with science, his work and his evaluation of his work is not science.  Again, this does not mean Boddy is wrong.  Instead, he likely gets some things right similar to other pitching specialists.  There are probably many ways to skin a baseball as opposed to one Way.  Maybe there is a single way at this elite level, but that has not been firmly established.

Boddy certainly is a rarity amongst pitching gurus.  He does publicize his errors in reasoning when he takes a turn in his approach.  His manner comes across more cleanly than that of someone like Chris O'Leary with his defensive obsession with letter shaped arm angles inverted-W (as seemingly described in the Arm).  Most everyone has a gimmick and if you take in a cynical perspective, Boddy's gimmick is "Science!" in a suit filled with alchemy.  In essence though, this field is still an applied mish mash of what sounds like good ideas.  Practitioners are often snake oil salesmen and I am unsure if this book effectively communicates that.

Pointless Vulgarity
I struggled with whether I would include this section in the review.  However, Passan emphasized that this work is intended to be read by anyone involve in youth baseball, so I should write to how he misses that mark.  In one way he missed was his infrequent, yet noticeable, use of vulgarity throughout the work.  While players or wives cussing in quotes provides a closer intimation of who they are as real people, I am at a loss why Passan chooses for him as a narrator to indulge in ways that do not meaningfully improve how he communicates his message.  Instead, his profanity appears to communicate a desire of the author to be one with the players in the training room and in the dugout.

For instance, Passan writes vaguely about Todd Coffey doing everything right as a model AAA relief pitcher on and off the field as he believes he was promised to be the first player called up to Seattle.  Instead, he is passed over for younger arms. Passan states Coffey is being blue-balled.  For those offended, I apologize for writing that term, but for some in the audience it may be unfamiliar.  The term is slang for a sexually frustrated man who thinks a women strongly led him on and then rejects him.  It is a term that blames a woman for reconsidering consent.  While aptly empathizing the situation Coffey experiences, I find it quite strange for this to be written and pass by the eyes of editors when the intent for this work to serve as a public outreach tool.

While many families will read these words and wind up unfazed, we all can imagine that a significant portion would hesitate handing over language like this to their kid.  Whether or not you think parents should be more open to language use like this, the fact remains that these words consequentially may bring exclusivity to the message.  One wonders if the author is so moved by the suffering of pitchers the world over, why would he think of using a few words here or there to challenge them to reject his writing.  At best, this is obtuse or, maybe, spreading the word was a last minute idea to drive sales.  Perhaps, that is unfairly cynical.  To be clear, language like this is infrequent in this 300 some page book.  With that in mind, maybe more sensitive readers will be inclined to gloss over those passages. However, I am wholly nonplussed by its inclusion.  The language does not contribute to the overall message and potentially works against his message that he has self-ordained to be so important and so consequential in the production of this work.

Conclusion
Everyone should read the Arm.  Everyone.  The book has warts, most books do.  The author often paints himself in a corner only to fleetingly admit that he is contradicting previous conclusions.  Passan can oversell what he deems as a success, but is so soft in his final vague suggestion of a solution that I think it is passable.  It passes unlike another break-the-mold book like Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World has Never Seen.  That book wrongly inspired many people to think that minimalist shoes, chia-lime water, and 80 mile runs were good for everyone.  Passan's soft shrug of a sale puts the Arm in a better context.

However, by lacking cohesive in his final statement, Passan ultimately fails if we hold him to his stated intent of impacting youth baseball.  If a reader comes into this book, like me, with a strong understanding of what is occurring, then a disciplined and balanced reading may prove thought provoking.  If the reader is a concerned local coach or parent, then they have very little in their hands at the end of the book beyond concern and confusion.  While the book notes the toll on youth pitchers, it provides no solution or path for them.  The only solution suggested is in a few beams of light being swallowed up by individual MLB teams that will keep that information proprietary.  Instead, Passan leaves the adults on the lowest rung lost in the swamp.  One might suggest that the book lets these individuals become aware of the swamp, but what good is that when it provides nothing instructive and no real place to turn.

To reiterate, a reader must pay attention and be critical when reading this book.  The narrative jumps around, which keeps a reader interested but will often leave the message disjointed.  There is also one-sidedness to the discussion as Passan inserts himself in discussions and begins to paint himself as a reluctantly competent on the issue.  This may be a product of access or cutting things out to improve narrative flow.  Chris O'Leary, one of Passan's punching bags, has complained publicly that his interview consisted of sitting with Passan at a Cardinals game for two innings and that he was never offered a full interview to explain his thoughts.  Sometimes, that happens in research with pressing deadlines or simply moving narratives.  However, one should not consider this book to be a comprehensive look at all the near science being sermonized in baseball.  The work is simply Passan's sometimes chosen and sometimes permitted journey through this swamp of an issue.

-----

The Arm: Inside the Billion-Dollar Mystery of the Most Valuable Commodity in Sports
by Jeff Passan
Harper
368 pp.

05 April 2016

The Arm, The Original Earl Weaver, And Dylan Bundy


Earlier in the day, I discussed Jeff Passan's new book, The Arm: Inside the billion-dollar mystery of the most valuable commodity in sports, and Dylan Bundy's short appearance in the book.  As noted then, the book tries to tackle the acknowledged elephant in the room: how does the industry stop all of these arm injuries.  Things have changed quite a bit over the past 150 years except for the fact that a great number of pitchers crash and burn.

My great great aunt has something in common with 20 year old pitchers in the 1930s.  While she was 75 years old, what she had in common was the same surgical procedure.  Her issue was arthritis and the medical world largely thought that arm injuries in baseball was actually an arthritic condition.  A popular perspective was that arthritis was caused by bad teeth.  The idea was that bad teeth leached poison into the blood stream and that the poison collected in and destroyed joints.  My great great aunt had a lovely set of teeth that she took great pride in as many her age had succumbed to cavities and other maladies.  Her teeth looked perfect, but with arthritis crippling her the doctors suggested pulling out all of her teeth.  It did nothing.  Likewise, many a young phenom whose arm died either in the minors or majors had their teeth removed for what now is obvious as no good reason.

One revolutionary thought about bringing up young pitchers was brought forward by Paul Richards, which is presented in the book, who was named the Orioles manager and general manager prior to the club's second season.  Richards was a product of the Branch Rickey legion of thought.  What became the Oriole Way was the same thing as Dodger Baseball, Cardinal Way, and a half dozen or so other organizational approaches to developing winning baseball teams.  Due to Weaver on Strategy, many erroneously think that the ideas he proclaims in there are his own ideas, but they are almost all Richards.  To some extent, many are also found elsewhere.  In other words, what you knew about the Oriole Way, well, you probably should forget it.

Anyway, the original Earl Weaver, Paul Richards, was actually the one who came up with the idea that rookie pitchers should be brought in slowly.  A rookie pitcher would first be brought into the bullpen to be introduced to the MLB game.  Then easing him into a swing starter role and, finally, into the rotation.  The idea was that by easing a player into the high effort, high leverage game that his arm would adjust, get use to the work load, and then be dependable as a 200+ IP arm year-in and year-out.

As opposed to Weaver, Richards actually did what he preached.  Each year in Chicago, he would stretch out his pitchers in that manner.  Mike Fornieles and Jack Harshman were both examples of that approach.  With the Orioles the framework was used for Milt Pappas, Jerry Walker, and Jack Fisher.  When he moved on to Houston, he continued this practice with Mike Cuellar, Dave Giusti, and Larry Dierker.  While Earl Weaver's team were largely known for picking up veteran retreads like Mike Cuellar.

Now, bringing this back to Dylan Bundy.  Without subscribing to Paul Richards' approach or the ideal that Earl Weaver spoke of but never truly implemented, the Orioles will be taking this route with Dylan Bundy.  Bundy was part of the final draft class that was permitted to sign Major League deals.  It was suggested at the time that by signing a MLB deal that the Orioles saved some money.  The club thought this was not much of a risk because as Bundy was, he was already rather close to being a MLB pitcher right out of high school.  He was not considered much of a risk to run out of options before he was ready to play.  Unfortunately, after his first taste of the Majors in 2012, he then found himself suffering injuries that limited him to 42 innings over three years.

The Orioles, concerned about keeping Bundy healthy and stretching out his stamina, will now ease him in.  Buck mentioned a similar Richards' approach.  Bundy would work relief in the first half and then at some point find himself starting a few times in the second half.  All of this would be done to target 2017 as his time to enter into the Orioles' rotation.

We shall see.

-----

The Arm: Inside the Billion Dollar Mystery of the Most Valuable Commodity in Sports
by Jeff Passan
368 pp

Jeff Passan's The Arm (Part I) And Dylan Bundy


For Bundy Bash, I thought it was apropos to discuss Jeff Passan's new book, The Arm: Inside the billion-dollar mystery of the most valuable commodity in sports, which is released today.  This book is a rather important collection of information that anyone who has considered throwing a game or having their kid throw a game should read.  The book is short on answers, but does well to describe the problem of arm injuries and how so many approaches have failed as well as how slowly but surely progress is being made.  Passan focuses primarily on ligament replacement, but also expands on that a little when he addresses bone injuries to children. 

This post is the first of three review posts on the book and will tie into the framework of today's Dylan Bundy Bash.  This entry will introduce you to the personal toll experienced by pitchers, like Dylan Bundy, who undergo Tommy John surgery.  It is more than a simple slice and dice, drilling out bone, and tying up some tissues to form a new ligament in the elbow.  The pain is more felt in the weeks and months afterward.  The numbness in the fingers, the slow rehabilitation as arm comes together, and the amazing self-discipline needed to maintain the schedule (even though the schedule differs team to team and is not exactly based on anything other than anecdotes and experience).

Now, Passan did not have the luxury of following Dylan Bundy on his ups and downs in the rehabilitation process.  However, he follows perpetual underdog Todd Coffey and local wonder Daniel Hudson.  While the two differ in pedigree and organizational faith, they share a common bond.  They both were trying to do something few have done: return from a second torn ligament.  This was not planned.  While Passan recruited Coffey in order to follow a second time through a rehab, Hudson was included in order to follow a player on his way back and working through the minors until he was able to stand on that mound again in front of 40,000 fans.  It did not turn out that way; Hudson tore his ligament on his first minor league outing and Passan had a second case of a second ligament replacement recoveree to follow. 

While most fans know of Tommy John as a pitcher being shut down and typically returning a year later, the time between surgery and return is more of a black box.  Passan peeks into that box and describes to the reader how individuals in a highly competitive field try to cope with being unable to do much of anything.  Hudson becomes irate watching his Diamondbacks lose.  He tucks into his depression by obsessively playing video games, but does not give himself the pleasure (or pain) of pitching in The Show.  Instead, he plays as a shortstop.  For Coffey, he dives down into extreme thriftiness by collecting coupons and going to flea markets.  They and their families both learn to deal with how to handle the physical and mental aspects of rehabilitation.

We can imagine the struggle it was for Dylan Bundy.  He was one of the best pitching prospects in the game.  He was on the threshold of an MLB starting rotation gig.  He trained his entire life to achieve that.  And, he had to wait.  And, he hopefully did what he was told.

Dylan Bundy gets a couple pages in the book as an example of another attempt to condition the body to prevent arm injuries that winds up not working out.  Bundy is noted as an atypical high school student.  Him and his father, Denver, had worked together on Dylan since he was six years old to have incredible core strength through hard labor and challenging workout sessions in the training room.  He also loosened up while throwing 300 feet in the outfield.  While much of the chatter his senior year before the draft was about his physique and a conventional wisdom-y reasonable workload, his less-talked-about junior year was not the case.

The most impressive, maybe foolish, feat Bundy achieved in varsity baseball was when he pitched twice in a day during his junior year.  In those two games on a Saturday, he threw 181 pitches.  At the time his father told the press:
"No, I don't regret letting him go 181 pitches. We trained for that number of pitches. (However), we didn't train for such a long delay between the two games. That wasn't good."
Two items that were not covered in the book are make Dylan's case slightly more interesting.  His brother, Bobby, was also drafted by the Orioles.  He was considered less talented than Dylan, but was still valued enough for the Orioles to throw a good bit of over-slot money his way.  His varsity baseball feat was pitching 13 innings and tallying up 163 pitches.  With Bobby as the first generation prototype for Denver Bundy to create the perfect pitcher, Dylan's greater ability likely led him and Denver to push the envelope further and beyond what even his father said he was not exactly comfortable with.

The second aspect of that Saturday pitch count was that the book might be isolating that effort a bit too much.  In fact, that 181-pitch effort was done on two days rest.  He had thrown 112 pitches in his start before that.  In other words, over the course of four days, Dylan threw 293 official pitches over three games.  This does not include warm-ups or getting loose between innings.  Again, as this book indicates, we really do not know whether this was a smart or reasonable thing to do.  At the time, some folks in the Oklahoma baseball scene were aghast. 

That concern, again, was not mentioned all that often leading up to Baltimore drafting him.  Once in the Orioles' system, his workload looked drastically different.  He would go up to nine days without pitching in a game and was limited early on to 40 pitches in an outing.  Dan Duquette's response was that the club was implementing a regimen to get Dylan familiar to what would be expected of him as a major league pitcher.  Basically, the club was starting all over with him.  For better or worse, he ended up needing Tommy John surgery and lost about three years of development time.  It might be worthwhile to note that his brother Bobby has also had his career sidetracked by arm injuries.

-----

The Arm: Inside the Billion Dollar Mystery of the Most Valuable Commodity in Sports
by Jeff Passan
368 pp