A Happy Ending Following a Potentially Tragic Incident

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This could have been a far more tragic story with truly life-altering or even fatal consequences for this young ballplayer. Thankfully, Caiden has recovered and returned to the baseball diamond. Hopefully, the emotional and psychological injuries heal as well as his body evidently has.

In the first half of 2000, I was a player on a men's league baseball team in California's Imperial Valley. I played with some skilled and talented players both on my team and in the league as a whole. Late in the season, I was injured in a freak on-field accident when a foul tip off my bat slammed into my face around my right eye.

Prior to being injured, I had been having a pretty good day and night. I had knocked in the winning run with a bases loaded walk-off RBI in the first game of our doubleheader and I had reached third base in my last uninjured at-bat of the second game when I attempted to stretch a double into a triple (and yes, Pedro, I agree that it wasn't a particularly smart baserunning decision with no outs 😉).

I read a fastball on the inner half of the plate and I had a good rip at it. It came off of the barrel of my bat and hit me square in the face. I went down in a heap at the plate. I managed to control the desire to frantically kick my feet in pain. I did a quick damage assessment as best I could under the circumstances. I could see somewhat, although I couldn't bring myself initially to remove my hands from my face. The bones surrounding my right eye seemed to be more or less intact and the eye did not appear to be in danger of coming out of its socket. I ran my tongue along my teeth to determine if I had lost or damaged any teeth. That seemed likely given the lighting bolts running through my upper gums and face. Thankfully, my personal assessment appeared to show that a trip to the dentist would not be necessary. I figured that I was relatively unscathed. But what was that smell and what was that sound?

The crowd had gotten eerily quiet. I didn't hear my player-manager friend's young son tell his mom that "Grape's hurt." At some point after I concluded that I was doing pretty good all things considered, I discovered that I was bleeding. That was the sound that I was hearing as my blood dripped on and around home plate.

In spite of the smell and the blood that was obviously in my nose and sinuses and likely trickling down my throat, I thought that I was cut. I didn't realize that it was pouring out of my nose. My nose didn't hurt all that much. I heard one of my teammates that also coached high school baseball direct people not to touch me or move me and ask if anyone in the stands had a tampon. Knowing how guys are and the certainty that I would be the subsequent recipient of tampons and sanitary napkins if I received such first aid, I remember thinking that I would bleed to death on the field before I would allow him to treat me with a tampon.

I momentarily forgot how I had gotten injured and fear and pain gave way to a flash of rage. For a brief moment I actually thought of rushing the mound to pop the pitcher whose only crime was throwing a pitch that I managed to foul off of my face. Fortunately, I didn't embarrass myself and prove that I was concussed by going to the mound like some bloody zombie.

I eventually got my bearings, got to my knees, made it to my feet, and walked to a car for a ride to the hospital. I laughably told my player-manager friend that I just needed a moment before I would be ready to return to the game. In response, he quite sensibly informed me that the only place that I would be going to was the hospital.

An examination and some x-rays revealed that while I been hit pretty hard, I was pretty lucky. The doctor indicated that while he couldn't rule out some small facial fractures, I didn't appear to have suffered any broken bones. Pretty miraculous considering that the pitcher had a decent fastball and the ball almost certainly sped up due to me imparting further spin on the ball when I fouled it off into my face.

I missed a few days of work. I didn't miss any games due to me getting injured before a break in the schedule for the Easter holiday. When I returned to the diamond, I was greeted with friendly banter and an eyepatch by my happy, but clearly relieved teammates. I even got a concerned call from a girlfriend that worked at the hospital when she learned that I had been injured and treated. I also learned from my player-manager friend's nephew that the high school kids had taken note of my dried blood around home plate. I was an unknown celebrity.

The first at-bat of my return to the diamond was a bit of a psychological challenge. Even now it is tough to consider that I was the victim of a freak occurrence. I was assured by my player-manager friend and other teammates that I had swung at a strike and that I hadn't swung at a pitch dangerously up and inside. The umpire welcomed me back and wished me well. I thanked him, but I didn't want to think about my last at-bat. I was determined not to be fearful and I struck out swinging. But at least I was back.

Injuries are an unfortunate part of sports. Coming back from those injuries present a number of physical, emotional, and psychological challenges for athletes. As someone that has been injured and faced the fear that comes with being injured and returning to the game, I am thrilled that young Caiden Wilson came through it and made his own return. The challenges that he faced are certainly more daunting than the ones that I faced in 2000. 🙂⚾️