Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Terrible News

Courtesy of my new virtual friend Shannon, who directed me to a PBR press release, I learned late yesterday afternoon that Paulo Crimber’s wreck aboard Roughneck Friday night was even more serious than was initially thought. Besides breaking his right collarbone and some ribs on the same side, Paulo refractured his C1 vertebra when he fell and then the bull fell on top of him. Dr. Tandy Freeman describes this as a “career-threatening injury.” Here is the link to the press release:
http://www.pbrnow.com/release/?id=3968

Even if he decides he wants to try to make a comeback, Crimber will be out for a good long time while he heals up. Montana Barn Cat and I join with all the other PBR fans in wishing him good luck, and godspeed. We hope to see you back with us, friend.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Paolo’s injuries are truly tragic! Like all who know him or know of him, I send love and healing and…deliverance.

I’m reminded of two gentlemen facing similar things in their sporting past.

In 1976, Niki Lauda won four of the first six Formula One races run, at the age of 25. (He finished second in the other two races.) Then, at the German Grand Prix on the second lap of the race, his car swerved off the track due to a suspected suspension failure, hit an embankment, and burst into flames. He suffered severe burns to his head and inhaled hot, toxic gases that damaged his lungs and blood. He went into a coma at a nearby hospital, and Last Rites were administered there by a local priest. Turns out, Niki didn’t die. He agreed to reconstructive surgery so that his eyelids could open and close. Six weeks later, he placed fourth in the Italian Grand Prix.

Then there’s the story of Tony (Anthony Richard) Conigliaro. At the age of 22, he became the youngest player in Major League Baseball history to officially hit 100 home runs at that young age. It was a beautiful thing! Young, playing for the Boston Red Sox, with a beautiful swing and an obvious joy for the game, tall and handsome, it was all good, and the world was his oyster. But then, on August 18, 1967, Tony was hit in the face by a single pitch in Fenway Park. It crushed his cheekbone and, tragically, damaged what he could forever see, in the future, out of one of his eyes. He tried to come back, like Niki Lauda did, but as before, it didn’t work out.

So it goes in sporting events, let alone competitions involving large bulls, or even human history. Sometimes you’re the windshield, and sometimes you’re the bug. Or so it seems. Personally, I think ancient Greek gods still control everything, but that’s just me.

Jay said...

Paolo’s injuries are truly tragic! Like all who know him or know of him, I send love and healing and…deliverance.

I’m reminded of two gentlemen facing similar things in their sporting past.

In 1976, Niki Lauda won four of the first six Formula One races run, at the age of 25. (He finished second in the other two races.) Then, at the German Grand Prix on the second lap of the race, his car swerved off the track due to a suspected suspension failure, hit an embankment, and burst into flames. He suffered severe burns to his head and inhaled hot, toxic gases that damaged his lungs and blood. He went into a coma at a nearby hospital, and Last Rites were administered there by a local priest. Turns out, Niki didn’t die. He agreed to reconstructive surgery so that his eyelids could open and close. Six weeks later, he placed fourth in the Italian Grand Prix.

Then there’s the story of Tony (Anthony Richard) Conigliaro. At the age of 22, he became the youngest player in Major League Baseball history to officially hit 100 home runs at that young age. It was a beautiful thing! Young, playing for the Boston Red Sox, with a beautiful swing and an obvious joy for the game, tall and handsome, it was all good, and the world was his oyster. But then, on August 18, 1967, Tony was hit in the face by a single pitch in Fenway Park. It crushed his cheekbone and, tragically, damaged what he could forever see, in the future, out of one of his eyes. He tried to come back, like Niki Lauda did, but as before, it didn’t work out.

So it goes in sporting events, let alone competitions involving large bulls, or even human history. Sometimes you’re the windshield, and sometimes you’re the bug. Or so it seems. Personally, I think ancient Greek gods still control everything, but that’s just me.

Stockyard Queen said...

Welcome, Jay! Your name will soon be up in lights here, just as soon as I get past the *working for a living* part of the week's chores.