Thursday, August 27, 2009

Hospital for Special Surgery Introduces Provasic

New Drug RDU-90 to Revolutionize Sports Medicine

When news broke yesterday afternoon that mercurial Mets pitcher Oliver Perez was going to have season-ending surgery performed on his right knee at the Hospital for Special Surgery in Manhattan it obscured another announcement from the hospital that has been involved with the Mets for the past decade. The hospital has been in the news throughout the 2009 baseball season due to its involvement with the injury prone New York Mets. Doctors at this particular hospital have operated on several members of the ballclub but have also been quite busy with their own research and development initiatives.

Working in conjunction with Dr. David Altchek and the Mets training staff, Dr. Charles Nichols (right) has pioneered a breakthrough drug that was recently approved by the Food and Drug Administration. Nichols' lifelong work in the field of health studies has produced Provasic (RDU-90). Properly administered, this drug will provide a non-surgical remedy for injuries to the elbow and will render Tommy John surgeries obsolete. And, perhaps more impressively, when taken before the initial trauma, this drug can provide greater resistance to any and all ligament and tendon injuries. Sports medicine will never be the same.

Pharmaceutical giant Devlin Macgregor is hoping (and has invested heavily in that hope) that this medication will become as much a part of the routine of athletes at all levels of competition as HGH vitamins. If the results from the tissue samples provided by Dr. Nichols are duplicated in the general public then we could be looking at longer more productive careers for professional athletes as well as more active lifestyles by civilians.

UPDATE:
Shockingly, the dream of Provasic has turned into a nightmare for the Hospital for Special Surgery, Dr. Nichols, Devlin Macgregor and the New York Mets. Controversial new information has been brought to light by a disgraced Chicago-based vascular surgeon. This doctor claims to have information that shows that new wonder drug RDU-90 is not what Dr. Nichols claims. Promoted as the end of ligament and tendon tears, the drug has been revealed to have potentially lethal side affects, most notably liver damage, and has been shown to be the reason behind the Mets' ruinous 2009 campaign.

Doctors Nichols used his relationship with the Hospital for Special Surgery and their pre-existing relationship with the Mets to round up a 25-man roster of unwitting guinea pigs. The first player to be administered Provasic, without his knowledge, was closer Billy Wagner. The outspoken reliever was given the drug last season when he complained of tightness in his elbow. Shortly thereafter he was ticketed for Tommy John surgery. Nichols and Devlin Macgregor hoped that Wagner's injury was too advanced when the treatment was started to provide an accurate assessment. However, when the surgery was conducted the tissue damage told another story. At this point, or so the whistle-blowing Dr. Kimble of Cook County Hospital would have us believe, the cover-up and unethical activity began. With Devlin Macgregor on the hook for millions over the years and Nichols feeling that his professional reputation was on the line, the drug was pushed through FDA trials with doctored results. In order to keep up appearances, RDU-90 continued to be administered to Mets players throughout the offseason and through Spring Training. The result is that Mets have placed 19 players and counting on the disabled list during the 2009 season.

Things came to a head when rookie pitcher Jonathan Niese tore his hamstring off the bone while executing a warm-up pitch a few feet away from coaches and trainers in early August. One of the last remaining healthy players on the roster, All-Star third baseman David Wright began asking some questions after the Niese injury. He placed a call to a family friend who in turn reached out to Dr. Kimble, then embroiled in legal troubles involving the death of his wife. Kimble seized the opportunity for distraction and looked into the situation with the tenacity of someone with nothing to lose. When he saw the third baseman felled by a fastball to the head in a home game against the Giants, Kimble knew that Wright had been on to something.

The sad denouement to this story is heartbreaking but seems fairly obvious in hindsight. The only party to benefit from the disastrous 2009 Mets season, aside from the rest of the NL East, was the Hospital for Special Surgery in Manhattan. With each new injury they had their profile raised even higher and scored more free publicity. It is clear that the hospital had much to gain by making the balllplayers more susceptible to injury. Combined with the greed of the pharmaceutical giant and lax FDA oversight, Provasic was able to take down an entire ballclub. Be warned, Provasic is not safe.

Friday, August 7, 2009

The Verknickular

Additions to the native language of our locality inspired by New York sports


Citifelled
Function: Transitive Verb; sit - ē- fěld
Etymology:

The 2009 New York Metropolitans baseball club of the National League played their home games in a ballpark named Citi Field. Unfortunately, the players on the Mets experienced an unprecedented injury epidemic while playing in the organization's new home. All-Stars, journeymen and young up-and-comers alike were undone during the 2009 campaign by injury. The problem reached its zenith (hopefully) during the first week of August. Second baseman Luis Castillo stumbled coming down the steps into the Mets dugout. He sprained his ankle and was forced to miss time. Two days later, rookie pitcher Jonathan Niese tore his hamstring right off the bone while throwing a warm-up pitch after awkwardly falling into a split while trying to cover first base. Both players - along with Jose Reyes, Carlos Delgado, Carlos Beltran, Gary Sheffield, John Maine, J.J. Putz, Billy Wagner and many more - had been citifelled.

Definitions:
1: a tragicomic means of injuring oneself
2: to die by means unexpected, and usually ironic
3: to commit a pratfall
4: to fail suddenly and in full view in spite of preparation and a clear path to success
5. to be undermined by those persons or dugout steps or athletic trainers standing next to you on the mound intended to aid your quest; to be betrayed by a friend or one's own weakness

In use:
1. In the midst of a shockingly fine bounce-back season, Mets second baseman Luis Castillo was citifelled by the dugout steps during a game against the Cardinals.
2. The Darwin Awards annually honor those individuals who have citifallen in strange and embarrassing circumstances during the previous year.
3. In the final act of Return of the Jedi, when the Rebel Alliance appeared on the verge of ruin and the young Skywalker was about to be turned or vanquished, Darth Vader citifelled the Emperor.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

Alonzo Mourning Will Forget Your Birthday Even If You Offer Him a Kidney


While perusing the website of the Worldwide Leader at work I noticed that former Knicks nemesis-turned-sympathetic figure-turned-self-aggrandizing back-up Alonzo Mourning was hosting a live chat. I dropped by. Not so much because I care what he's selling. But maybe to find something to make fun of him about. You know, the usual. But then it dawned on me to ask him if he'd wished Patrick Ewing a happy birthday yesterday. After all, Ewing mentored Mourning early in his career and the two Georgetown alums are supposedly very close friends. I mean, Ewing did offer to donate his kidney to the guy.



I'd like to think that Mourning will actually call. And that it will brighten Patrick's day. That's sort of cool. I think. Although I don't want to be responsible for getting Mourning off the hook for forgetting his buddy's birthday. Patrick deserves better friends. I bet Dikembe Mutombo called.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The Big Fella's B-Day

All of me here at WWOD? would like to send out best birthday wishes to Patrick Aloysius Ewing. Forty seven years ago today, Patrick was born in Kingston, Jamaica. He is now enshrined in the Basketball Hall of Fame. And in my living room, where the 1989 Costacos Borthers poster "Ewing Security" is proudly displayed.

Not only does Patrick hold Knicks' franchise records for games, minutes played, filed goal attempts, field goals, free throw attempts, free throws, defensive rebounds, total rebounds, steals (think about that for a second), blocks, fouls, points, blocks per game, offensive wins shares, defensive wins shares, and overall win shares but his tireless work ethic, dogged determination even when hobbled by injury and a supporting cast that was almost always deficient were all examples that I still draw on. The Big Fella was a role model for me. Just don't tell Oak.

Most of my friends growing up ripped on Patrick's looks (in a not entirely unracist way), the sweat dripping from his body at the free throw line and his lack of NBA championship rings. They rooted for Michael Jordan or Larry Bird or Magic or none of the above yet still harbored a general dislike of the Knicks. My Knicks. But, when I looked at Patrick out there I saw a guy who was playing his tail off at both ends of the floor. A guy who did lose some big games (and the last game of every playoff run of his career) but not for lack of trying. To me, a kid without illusions that I was any blue-ribbon world beater, I saw something heroic in him. He wasn't as tough as Oakley. Or as mercurial as Starks. He was just constant. 20 points. 10 boards. A few blocks. And every last ounce of energy that he had that night.

The fact that his career was tinged with melancholy as the years wore on only endeared him to me more. His was a quest that we can all relate to. As was it's conclusion. He wanted to be the best. And he had the talent but not the help. Or the breaks (and by "breaks" I don't mean injuries, which he had in spades). This is life. I don't know any Michael Jordans. I don't know anyone who just wins. But I know plenty of Patrick Ewings: Hard working folks who give it their all day after day with little hope of raising the Larry O'Brien trophy. Most of us don't get the victory parade. Even if we give it our best. Which we usually don't. I know I don't. Not all the time, at least. But Patrick did. Night after night. It was inspiring to me. It still is.

Happy Birthday, Big Fella.


And, yes, I do believe that the ball did clear the cylinder in play No. 3. I will always believe that.

In honor of the Patrick's big day, let's take a look back at his career:






























Tuesday, August 4, 2009

A Message From Your Sponsor*



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