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"A winter ball story in Venezuela about almost dying and coming back"
WINTER BALL IN VENEZUELA.
Every winter,in Venezuela, they have there big league season. It is a chance for aspiring prospects to continue playing during the winter and to hone their skills in a near big league setting. I had the chance to play their twice and the first time was with Davy Concepcion. He was the player manager of the "Tigres de Aragua", and former shortstop of the 'big red machine'. It was a thrill to play along side him. That first season playing in Venezuela was exciting. I was a young kid and was able to go to the beach everyday and enjoy the sun 8 hours a day. It was in the Carribean and the weather was superb. It was very tropical with wild iguanas running everywhere. And I was getting paid for it! My first season, I did however, have a near fatal accident. We were playing in Caracas, Venezuela and the sun was going down. It was dusk and the visibility was hampered somewhat. The pitcher was a side armer who threw about 92 mph or so. I never saw the pitch coming, and he struck me with a fastball that landed half on my helmet and half on my temple. They say I was spun completely around and face planted on the ground. I was knocked out for 5 minutes. The next thing I remember was waking up and trying to get up. Except I had no bearings whatsoever and kept falling to the ground. I suffered a concussion and was rushed to the hospital. I spent the next week recovering and then continued playing in Venezuela. That was close! Although this sounds bad, that was not the worse experience I had in Venezuela. The winter of 1986 I went back over there and played again only for a different team. I will never forget this experience and the feeling I had of hopelessness. It began one night, once again in Caracas, Venezuela. I was catching, and the second pitch of the game was fouled off of my right shoulder area. It knocked me to the ground. I remember being in intense pain. The ball had deflected off my collarbone. The trainer at the time, rushed out and asked me to stand up. Which I did. Only I wasn't prepared for what was to follow. As I stood up my collarbone snapped in half and was trying to poke through my skin. The sound of my bone snapping I won't soon forget. I was now in severe pain and sweating profusely. They assisted me off the field and helped me to the clubhouse. I was seriously questioning my luck playing in Venezuela. In the clubhouse they cut off my jersey and had me stand against the wall. My shoulder was protruding forward and they were going to straighten it. Without warning they pushed my shoulders back against the wall in an attempt to straighten out the collarbone. The pain was unbearable. Since they were not doctors, they could not give me any pain killers. Instead they wrapped my arms and shoulders together and said that the bone would heal itself and to remain in this position over the next few weeks. I wasn't too thrilled over this but my options were limited. I then had the clubhouse mananger go buy me a bottle of Venezuelan rum which I used for pain relief. The night and the following day were very painful. It was hard to get through the night trying to sleep like this. Not only that, I awoke with a hangover from the rum therapy. That was a mistake! Over the next few days, I couldn't stand it any longer. The bone was moving everytime I moved and would make a squeaky noise. Not only that, it was moving further and further apart. It was time to make a decision. I called the trainer to set up an appointment with a doctor for a possible operation. I had my consultation with the doctor. I had two options, get on a plane and fly home to the states. Or stay and have an operation in a foreign country with no family around. I chose option number two since I couldn't imagine trying to fly on a plane in the condition I was in. You have to realize, at this point I had not informed my wife in the states of my condition yet. It was near the holidays and I didn't want her worrying about me. I went to the hospital and prepped for the surgery. They informed me that they would put a pin in my collarbone and the operation would take about 30 minutes. I awoke 4 hours later screaming in pain. I had intense pain in my left hip. I yelled for the doctor and wanted to know why my hip was hurting. They informed me that they had to take a bone graft from my hip since the collarbone was so messed up. The operation was approximately 4 hours long. I was not a happy camper. Not only that, the day before my injury, I had been traded to the Chicago Cubs. I spent the next week rehabbing in the hospital and getting to the point where I could walk again. The day of my release, I went to my apartment in Venezuela and suddenly started feeling really bad. It was a feeling of impending doom and a feeling of knowing that something was not right and seriously wrong. I called for the trainer to get me back to the hospital a.s.a.p. I was taken back to the hospital and took a turn for the worse. I started bleeding internally and also became septic (severe infection). I developed a fever of 105.5 and had ice packs everywhere in sensitive areas of my body. I was not real coherant.They were trying desperately to get me well and I really didn't think I would survive the night. I finally placed a call to my wife and tryed to explain what was happening. She picked up on the main points and she was hysterical thinking I wouldn't make it. As for me, I thought I would never see my family again. I thought I would not make it and that I would die in a foreign country with no family or friends around. They had a minister next to my bed at night who was praying for me. And I was praying for me also. Through the night I had peaks and valleys but sometime in the morning I broke the fever and pulled out of it. I will never forget how I felt after beating it. And the feeling of being able to eventually go home to my family thanking my lucky stars. A week passed as I got better and the team wanted me to stay and coach. At which I declined, and was happy to demand a plane ticket home to the good ole U.S.A. To my family, to my friends, and to a new organization in which I would have to prove myself once again. And to take you back to the main page or for more navigational options,
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