Heads Up Sparky

Minor League Manager in Hospital After Being Hit by Liner

Luis Salazar, a minor league manager in the Atlanta Braves’ system, was awake and able to respond to doctors Wednesday after being hit in the face by Brian McCann’s foul liner while standing in the dugout during an exhibition game in Lake Buena Vista, Fla.

Salazar may have sustained a concussion and might have a facial fracture and damage around his left eye, said Frank Wren, the Braves’ general manager.

Salazar was airlifted to Orlando Regional Medical Center and was to stay overnight. Wren did not have an official hospital report.

“We are just blessed that Luis is alive,” Wren said after St. Louis beat Atlanta, 6-1. “The scans so far have been positive.”

Please explain to me when the meaning of "Head on a Swivel" stopped being relevant? This is obviously an awful tragedy, but I cannot picture this ever happing to me. (famous last words) Stew Scott has been glass eyed, for all the wrong reasons, for seven years, yet the ball field is treated like a grade school play ground. All I'm saying is when I enter a gym or walk on a field, as a competitor or spectator, I bring a modicum of respect for my surroundings. My lesson was learned by getting drilled in the head more than once but less than twice from considerable distance in front of an improbable audience. Perhaps complete embarrassment is more effective than threat of injury. That being said, I would like to share two occasions where such athletic obliviousness brought much misery to others yet much hilarity to myself, and perhaps in the mean time we can all grow as Bro's.

When I was playing traveling league summer ball as a young kid my teammate learned the hard way, that the game of baseball is not for slap dicks. We were taking BP just before a weekend tournament, and this guy was cutting off the balls coming back in field. The biggest bat in our rotation steps up to the plate and coach starts sending in meat balls for his enjoyment. The victim of this story was busy picking dandelions, perhaps his ass, my memory seems a bit foggy on this detail. What isn't foggy is what happens next. The batter hacks a line drive straight back at the mound, where both coach and victim are standing, one hit the deck, the other didn't. The sound of that baseball trying to embed itself into this kids ear canal is as memorable to me as my own voice. Two things happened that day, this kid hemorrhaged from his head for the better part of that afternoon, and he took his last steps on a baseball field.

My next precautionary tale takes place in a gymnasium during "the college years". I was participating in a Sorority dodgeball tournament, most likely benefiting some charity not worth my time. (but I'm a bro of deep conviction, I understand the importance of giving to those not fortunate enough to be me) My team was occupying the bottom two rows of the bleachers, waiting for our next match. Two female spectators were sitting directly next to me in the second row having a chat about a useless non-dodgeball related topic. Again, it blows my mind to think that someone would enter this arena at any level other than Hight Alert, but women are not to be understood. This meat-pile of a bro, in what I can only describe as an attempt to decapitate his weaker opponent, launched a rubber dodgeball across the gym. However, he threw a bit high and his target easily ducked the throw. I know you can see what happens next, the ball is coming straight for the front two rows, all the dudes on the bench saw the ball, followed its trajectory, and made slight head nods to the left and right respectively to evade the path of the ball. The clueless woman sitting directly next to me was in mid high-pitched, oblivious, cackle when the punishing blow rippled across her face. I recall the shrieks of pain and humiliation echoing off the gymnasium walls and the complete and udder joy that penetrated my soul. The kind of joy you can only achieve when you know you've witnessed something truly unique and earth shattering.

I may seem like a bit of a black heart when recalling these tales, but if I do, it's only because I am. However, I am telling you this, in the hopes to avoid future accidents of this nature. If a bit more attention were paid to the fact that balls, pucks, clubs, bats etc. will be swung and thrown and hit by professional athletes in close proximity to your face with little to no barriers in the way of stopping said items, we will all be a little better off. At least a bit more two eyed.