It s nothing. My protests fell on deaf ears, so I stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. I wanted to tear out his hair, strand by strand. It wasn t until later that night that I realized the anger was only a cover-up for something else. I wasn t mad, I was afraid.
Shoulder injuries are no joke when it comes to baseball.
My first trip to the doctor was far from successful. He tested my strength and could tell that I was obviously weaker on my right side. The soreness had grown worse, and I had lost so much mobility that I could barely lift my arm over my head. The MRI was long and painful but I felt as if it was going to repair me in the long run. I lay there in the hollow, noisy tunnel, motionless, claustrophobic.