COMMENTARY : To Play or Not: in Pain That Is

Like Glenn Davis, I am injured. He has some sort of muscle strain beneath his left shoulder blade. I have sharp, shooting pains in my lower back.

Like Glenn Davis, I have my own doctor, and I won’t agree to be treated by the team doctor. My personal physician, Dr. Vinnie Boombatz, has recommended I stay off my back while the pains persist. I’m trying to do that, though I must admit it’s hard to sleep standing up--like, uh, Dan Quayle. The Washington Post, which pays my salary, would like to know the particulars of my treatment, but doctor-patient confidentiality prevents me from sharing it with them. I have assured them that my condition is improving. I am well enough to cash checks.

Like Glenn Davis, I am a firm believer in specialization. He doesn’t bother with the Orioles’ batting coach; he has his own personal batting coach. I’ve got my own personal writing coach. This month he has been stressing commas. I need to go back to the basics on commas. I’d been relying on semicolons in crucial transitions; a pattern had developed; sharp editors were setting me up with gerunds; getting me out with complex sentences.

Unlike Glenn Davis, I am playing hurt.

In fact, I am currently delirious. How else could you explain three hockey columns in seven days?

The Orioles paid Glenn Davis almost $3.3 million last year, and he played in 49 games. Then they signed him to a two-year contract that could be worth $7 million. He played Opening Day and hasn’t played since. He’s on the disabled list. The soonest he can return is April 22. The O’s will have played 15 games by then.

So in his first 177 games as an Oriole, Glenn Davis will have played in 50. Nice work if you can get it. Who’s Davis rooming with, Kelvin “Which Way To The Emergency Room?” Bryant?

Before you start thinking this is a slam at Glenn Davis, let me assure you it isn’t. This is the same Glenn Davis who played in 779 of his first 813 games with the Houston Astros. The guy was a gamer. The O’s didn’t fork over all this money for Davis’s potential. They gave it to him for his production.

Nobody wants to get hurt.

Stuff happens.

Davis can’t get healthy in Baltimore. Cal Ripken Jr. can’t get hurt. He has now played in 73,000 consecutive games. He is more dependable than a dial tone. No one knows if Ripken has a personal doctor, as he never needs a doctor. Ripken could have Doogie Howser for all it matters. Nobody else in sports comes close to Ripken. The next longest current consecutive-game streak is 8. (Jose Canseco almost reached 9, but his streak ended when all 12 of his Porsches were in the shop and he couldn’t call a cab to get him to the park because the only number he had in his little black book was the bail bondsman.)

Injuries are the most important X-factor in sports.

Not coaching. Not chemistry. Not contracts.

Injuries.

Take the Boulez. (Please.)

The Bullets are currently dressing nine bodies, many of whom will be on display at Madame Tussaud’s next year. Their two best players missed the whole season (Bernard King, knee; John Williams, buffet). Their best shooting forward off the bench, Mark Alarie, also missed the whole season. Two months ago they traded for Rex Chapman, and he hasn’t played a game for them yet. These nights, the team they put on the floor couldn’t beat St. Leo. They have a lottery pick coming. They ought to go for someone in med school.

The Redskins won the Super Bowl not just because they had the best 45-man team, but also because their 45 remained the healthiest. None of their crucial players went down. One player can make all the difference. It’s hardly a coincidence with Joe Montana and Randall Cunningham missing the entire season that the 49ers and Eagles failed to make the playoffs. Since David Robinson tore ligaments in his thumb, the San Antonio Spurs are 3-6. Can you imagine where the Bulls would be if Michael Jordan got hurt? Do the words “in The Loop, waist deep in flood water” ring a bell?

The baseball season is only 2 weeks old, and by Wednesday there were 86 guys on the DL. Eighty-six! Twenty more, they can sit at Capital Centre and pretend they’re a Bullets crowd.

Have you seen who’s on the DL? The Cardinals for openers. They had eight of the 84. Is this what a B-b-b-bud Man is wearing this year, a hospital gown? St. Louis lost the whole right side of its defense: Andres Galarraga at first, Jose Oquendo at second and Felix Jose in right. You know how their uniforms have two Cardinals perched on either side of a baseball bat? It’s not a bat anymore--it’s a crutch.

Nolan Ryan’s on the DL. So is Carlton Fisk. They don’t use the team doctors either. At their age, they go straight to Medicare. Bob Welch is on the DL. He probably tripped over his wallet. Rob Dibble is on the DL, sore right shoulder. Must have hurt it throwing at an old lady. Dave Henderson, Lenny Dykstra, Vince Coleman, Kent Hrbek, Chris Sabo, Walt Weiss, Julio Franco, David Justice, Chuck Finley and now Glenn Davis are on the DL. Be there or be square. Where are they going to play the All-Star Game this year, Mass General?

Play in pain? Are you kidding me? These guys spend more time with a trainer than Easy Goer. Nobody plays hurt anymore. The manager writes the names down on the lineup card, and two or three of these $4-million-a-year guys will say, “Not tonight, dear, I’ve got a headache.” At that kind of money they check their horoscopes each day to decide if they should play that night.

Hey, I’m typing hurt here. My horoscope said: “Your children need sneakers. Keep writing.”