Of twinges, owies and boo-boos

Every once in awhile, though not often, the Blob wonders what Old Hoss Radbourn would have thought of Baseball Today. This is not because it just likes to say "Old Hoss Radbourn." It's because the Blob imagines the colorful language Old Hoss would employ in describing today's game, and that makes it smile.

I say this because Old Hoss, whose given name was Charles, was a pitcher of prodigious resolve, back when baseball was young. In 1884, pitching for the Providence Grays, he had a season no one will ever match: He started 75 games and won 59 of them, very often going on no days rest. You can find his likeness on a plaque in Cooperstown now.

He came to mind again today after I read this on Deadspin, about New York Mets' ace Jacob de Grom.

Yes, you read that right. There was concern he might have to have Tommy John surgery again after de Grom complained of his elbow "barking" at him.

Not sure where on the injury spectrum barking falls; it may be less concerning than an owie, but perhaps more serious than a boo-boo. But it's indicative of the culture surrounding pitchers these days in Organized Baseball.

 To put it bluntly, they are babied like Ming vases, because they are commodities of similar value. And this has had the consequence of turning many of them into exactly the sort of fragile creatures their investors fear.

If you're treated as fragile, you become fragile. Or at least that's the Blob's working theory.

I could be as wrong as mustard on a hot-fudge sundae about this, but it seems the more today's arms are bubble-wrapped, the more susceptible they are to damage. It starts in the minors, where pitching counts are rigidly enforced and it's the rare high-end prospect who goes more than five innings, no matter the circumstance. This is true even in the majors, where long relief and middle relief and short relief and closers all stand ready to make sure a starter doesn't get into triple digits on the pitch count.

Strangely, though, all of this protecting the goods seems not to be working. Pitchers are forever sitting out starts now because of shoulder stiffness or twinges or, yes, barking. Which leads the Blob to think the problem with pitchers today is not that they throw too much, but that they throw too little.

You can't develop arm strength if you don't throw. Am I wrong about that?

Which brings me back to Old Hoss Radbourn.

Who, the morning of September 26, 1884, rose in his hotel room in Chicago with yet another start ahead of him.

According to Edward Achorn's excellent account of that season, "Fifty-Nine In '84," Radbourn had spent a fitful night, paying hotel porters to massage his pitching arm and shoulder and apply hot towels and liniment. Even so, he couldn't lift his pitching arm high enough to dress himself without help. And when he got to the ballpark, he began his extensive warmup by gently tossing balls underhand, grimacing with every throw.

So what happened that day?

Well, the Grays beat Chicago 8-3. And Old Hoss recorded his 55th victory of the season.

No mention is made of his pitch count.