Whiny little ed. note: It was announced on Saturday that Raul Ibanez will have surgery to fix a sports hernia. No surprise here. In fact, we were hearing that Ibanez had the injury dating back to late May and early June. It's just that the Phillies and Raul would never admit anything.
Is a failure to acknowledge something that was known the same thing as a lie? How about when asked point-blank if he had a sports hernia if Ibanez said, "no." Does that count as a little fib or is that simply ballplayer trying to mask a weakness?
Maybe. Who knows. Either way it's worth noting that Ibanez played the second half of the season and the postseason in incredible pain. Perhaps one day we'll find out exactly what extreme measures the outfielder went through just to play every day. Then again, I can't say I'm waiting for a straight forward answer. After all, that stuff seems to be reserved for the national press... even though it wasn't a secret that he was hurt. Players, coaches and media types are known to tell a story or two.
Anyway, here's the essay on the initial notice that Ibanez was likely headed for surgery, with the note of something I was told from a publicist/agent friend who worked with internationally known music acts. My friend told me he always implored his artists to talk to the local press before any national or international outlets, because, as he said, "When it's over and you're no longer a star, the local guys are the only people who will be there."
So take heart, Phillies. When the World Series runs end (and they always end), remember who will be with you through thick and thin. On to the essay:
One of my favorite things about writing about sports is knowing something but still not being able to write about it. Call that a quirk or just an example of an off-kilter sense of humor because there are a lot of guys who get all bent about things like that.
Take the case of Raul Ibanez, for instance. A whole bunch of us knew that he was hurt/injured and that he was playing even though he was in obvious pain.
Just watch the guy run, for goshsakes. His form is all over the place like he's compensating for the pounding one takes with each painful footfall. Swinging a bat couldn't be easy, either. Just look at the difference between those first and second-half numbers for that proof.
Or better yet, when Raul first arrived in town he was always a fixture in the clubhouse before and after games, but during the second half of the season those clubhouse sightings were rare. It was deduced that he was getting treatment or going through a series of stretches, twists, shots or potions in order to get out on the field.
We didn’t know any of this because no one was saying anything. Even when Raul or Charlie Manuel were asked—point blank—if the left fielder was hurt, injured or needed surgery, the answer was always elusive and ambiguous. The best answer was always something about not being on the list of players getting treatment from athletic trainer Scott Sheridan.
The truth was Ibanez was beyond such mundane things as basic treatment.
So when the most recent issue of Sports Illustrated arrived in mailboxes, it was all there for all to read—Ibanez was hurt just like we knew, only more dramatically so.
According to the story, rather than have surgery and potentially miss a large portion of the season he toughed it out as we all saw.
He batted .312 with 22 home runs in his first 2½ months, a welcome splash of cold water for a team still groggy from a World Series hangover. But by the third week in June, Ibañez was suffering from a sore left groin and, unbeknownst to the public, a small but serious muscle tear near his abdomen. On a trip to Toronto he was confronted with an excruciating decision: He could have surgery to repair the tear and miss a large chunk of time, or he could return after a short stint on the disabled list and play his dream season hurt. "We all asked him if he would have the surgery," Phillies first base coach Davey Lopes says, "and he told everyone, 'I won't do that. I'll do anything but that.'"
After consulting with a neuromuscular specialist in Toronto and a surgeon in Philadelphia, Ibañez chose the DL, followed by aggressive rehabilitation. Every day he drops onto a mat in the Phillies' clubhouse, performs core and hip exercises with trainer Scott Sheridan and then heads for the field. Lopes believes that Ibañez's swing, speed and statistics have suffered because of the injury—he batted just .232 with 12 homers in 72 games after coming off the DL—but his clubhouse cred clearly spiked. "A lot of guys in his position would have said, 'Oh, my God, I'll just have the surgery,'" says Phillies utilityman Greg Dobbs, who played with Ibañez in Seattle. "But he's the type who says, ‘You tell me I can't, then I will.’”
So there are a couple ways to look at this, such as we can laud Ibanez for his toughness and his pain management. These are admirable traits for athletes—especially Philadelphia athletes—as long as the team doesn’t suffer because of it. Though Ibanez hasn’t been himself during the second half of the season, he hasn’t been a drain on the team.
Give the guy credit for going out there as often as possible. Charlie Manuel is the type of manager who rides his regulars and Ibanez got no special treatment despite the injury. He said he was OK, so he played... no complaints.
Surely there are second half VORP numbers out there to confirm or deny this claim.
Conversely, it kind of stinks that Ibanez and the Phillies held back a story that the local guys had already sniffed out only to confirm it for Sports Illustrated. In the meantime all some of us could do was drop some not-so subtle hints and force readers to do some between-the-lines reading about the assumed injury. There are other examples aside from this one, but this is what stands out for the moment.
So yeah, we knew something was up. We knew there was something more than what was being trotted out there. But apparently it pays to be a part of the national media as opposed to li’l ol’ Philadelphia.
You want the truth? Can you handle it?