I was sitting in a bar recently with a guy named Nate. A cast covered his right hand and stretched about halfway up his forearm, forcing Nate to drink beer as a lefty. Fortunately, he was getting good at it. As he sipped, he explained the origins of the cast. It was a very Chicago story.
Nate, a 30-year-old engineer, moved here last year, and, like many guys new to Chicago, quickly agreed to join the office softball team.
No one bothered to tell him that this particular brand of softball was played with a big, mushy, 16-inch ball, and without a glove. That wasn’t how the game was played in New York (where he lived previously), Missouri (where he went to college) or Iowa (where he grew up). But wanting to be a good new guy at work, he presumed that this weirder, larger version of softball couldn’t be so different or any more hazardous to his health than the 12-inch, gloved kind.
During the last game of the season, Nate found out he was wrong. He was manning third base when a line drive rocketed in his direction and Nate did what any self-respecting third baseman would do. He reached up to snare the ball. Unfortunately for Nate, it smacked his hand on its way to the outfield. Even more unfortunately, the ball cracked a bone in his right middle finger, which led to the navy blue cast that left him drinking left-handed.
Nate didn’t mind relating his story as long as I didn’t use his last name. Explaining how difficult it was to straighten the finger, he wondered if he’d be able to make a fist when it healed. “Hopefully I’ll be able to do that again,” he said.
I get it, Chicago. We are a prideful people who love the things that make us us: The lakefront. Deep-dish pizza. Da Bears. Marshall Field’s (RIP). And 16-inch softball.
While I will steer away from the argument of which version of softball is best — 12-inch, 14-inch or 16-inch (I’ve played in all three leagues) — what is clear is that 16-inch softball just isn’t worth Nate’s sort of fallout.
I’ve known half a dozen people who have suffered serious hand injuries from 16-inch softball. I know exactly zero people who have a serious hand injury from playing 12- or 14-inch softball.
Sixteen-inch softball crosses the threshold of what can be considered “reasonable risk.” I have sky-dived, climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and walked remote hiking trails where bears roamed. But those endeavors came with relatively low risk compared to the payoff. Sure, people occasionally suffer pulmonary edema trying to get to the top of Kilimanjaro. To me, it was worth the rather slight risk.
Sad as I am to say it as a native Chicagoan, 16-inch softball isn’t slight risk — not when there are perfectly enjoyable 14- and 12-inch softball leagues. Sixteen-inch softball is needless risk.
Consider my Tribune colleague Jon Yates, author of the “What’s Your Problem?” column in the Business section. Yates spent a chunk of last summer with a cast on his hand after a 16-inch softball mishap.
“I broke my pinkie finger on a seemingly innocuous relay throw from the outfield,” Yates said. “Reconstructing the finger required three pins, a boatload of painkillers and about $1,000 in medical co-pays. It was great for the economy but not so great for someone who types for a living.”
Yates said the team’s casualty list that season included three broken fingers and a torn thumb ligament. This summer, those gentlemen are playing in a 14-inch league — with gloves.
“Unless your team is sponsored by a health care company, (16-inch softball) hardly seems worth it,” Yates said.
David Kalainov, an orthopedic surgeon specializing in hand, wrist, elbow and shoulder injuries at Northwestern Memorial Hospital, said treating hand injuries stemming from 16-inch softball is a rite of summer in his world. He has seen as many as 15 such injuries in a summer.
Kalainov said he knew of no data proving that finger injuries are more common in 16-inch softball, but he has an opinion.
“This is conjecture, but if you wear a glove, you’re not going to break your fingers as frequently,” he said. “You won’t find proof in the literature, but it’s just common sense. I would say that prevention requires a glove.”
In the name of fairness, I brought my theory to Ron Kubicki, 60, president and a member of the 16-Inch Softball Hall of Fame, which opened a museum in Forest Park in July. After saying what I thought he would say (“You can get hurt doing anything!” and “I’ve jammed my fingers and kept playing!”), he said something that surprised me: I’m right that 16-inch softball is a hazard to our hands.
“Yes, there will be some broken fingers,” Kubicki said. “But it happens more at the entry and intermediate levels.”
The very best 16-inch softball players — the people in his Hall of Fame — are so skilled that they don’t break or sprain their fingers, he said.
“It’s like anything else,” Kubicki said. “It’s learning how to do things right.”
The right way, he said, is not to reach for the ball as if wearing a glove.
“That’s when fingers get jammed,” Kubicki said. “You let the ball come to you with your fingers spread.”
I found Kubicki’s argument compelling. Maybe we are the problem, not the game. But if I’m only going to think about softball a handful of Saturdays a year, I’ll opt for the simple protection of a glove.
And even without 16-inch softball, we have plenty of hazards of which we can be proud — like deep-dish pizza.
Twitter @joshbnoel
