The Glory and the Pain of Pitching
Richard Mackson/Sports Illustrated, via Getty Images
Before Game 6 of the 1986 N.L.C.S. Bob Ojeda took a cortisone shot, went five innings, and the Mets eventually won in 16.
By BOB OJEDA
I’d lived with pain in my left arm since I was 12, when my dad would
have me ice it after a Little League outing. My dad, who had pitched in
the Army, was something of a pioneer in caring for young arms. Besides,
he told me, Sandy Koufax iced his arm.
From Little League to the Major Leagues
Matt Rainey for The New York Times
Despite all the pain, Bob Ojeda would give his left
arm — or his right — to pitch again. “To get to play a game for a
living? Are you kidding me?” he said.
Courtesy Bob Ojeda
“Like most kids, I played more than one position,” Bob Ojeda said about Little League baseball.
“Right, Dad,” I said. “Let’s ice it.”
But this time, the pain was brutal, and, well, I wasn’t in Little League
anymore. It was 1986, and I was set to start Game 6 of the National
League Championship Series against the Astros in Houston. I’d won 18
games in my first season with the Mets. I’d pitched a complete game in a 5-1 victory over the Astros in Game 2.
But damn. I mean, it hurt. Like a screwdriver was stuck in it. So, after
years of ice, pain medicine, massage and sleeping in long-sleeved
shirts to keep my left arm warm and safe, the team doctor said I had
only one option left — to stick something in it. Like a needle. With
something powerful in the vial.