Athlete Rebounds from Knee Problems With His Own Stem Cells
http://sports.nationalpost.com/2014/03/02/toronto-blue-jays-ricky-romero-tries-to-rebound-with-stem-cell-treatment-and-positive-thinking/
In October, after spending the entire season in the minors with uneven results, Romero knew something had to be done about his knees. His research led him to undergo a procedure in which stem cells were extracted from the bone marrow in the back of his pelvis and injected into his knees. It was painful and it came with no guarantees, although the procedure is gaining in popularity and in many patients has triggered repair and regeneration of cartilage, tendons and ligaments.
Romero says he is hesitant to talk about it publicly, lest it sound like he is using his sore knees as an excuse for his performance decline. Pressed, he begins by saying it was “a crazy procedure.”
In October, after spending the entire season in the minors with uneven results, Ricky Romero knew something had to be done about his knees.
“They take bone marrow out of my low back, stick a big needle in, then inject it into your knees,” he says. “Painful. I felt like something shot me in the back for two, three days. That left me on crutches for three weeks, and in a brace. I had never used a crutch. The first day. I said, ‘How do you use these things?’ ”
A pitcher lives by his legs as much as his arm, and Romero has always prided himself on his grinding workout routine. He has come to believe he probably overdid the legwork in the weight room.
“We’ve taken a step back in the weight room,” he says. “The trainers are saying, ‘We’re not going to load you up to where you’re going to be Quadzilla out there.’ ”
After an off-season of treatment and rehab, his knees are starting to feel better.
“This stem-cell procedure is supposed to help tendons heal,” he says. “It’s healing, but it’s healing slowly. There’s so much stuff in there, it’s going to take a little bit of time to clean up.”
In 2011, Romero posted a 2.92 ERA over 225 innings and won 15 games. Throughout 2012, when he finished with a 5.77 ERA and 105 walks in 181 innings, reporters kept asking if he was healthy. He always said yes. After the season, he had minor elbow surgery and platelet-rich plasma injections in both knees.
“Yeah, I’m stubborn, man,” he says with a weak smile. “I wanted to get out of it by myself. I think one of the things I’ve learned is: Take care of your body; take care of you. That still means doing the things you have to do in the weight room, but it also means not being stubborn.”
But athletic success requires a degree of stubbornness, and the willingness to endure pain, and it can be a tricky business when your body tells you to yield and your mind retorts that yielding goes against everything you stand for as an athlete.
Lang, a Calgary native who grew up in Oakville, Ont., knows about knee problems too.
Ricky Romero’s girlfriend knows that. Kara Lang, a Calgary native who grew up in Oakville, Ont., knows about knee problems too. A member of Canada’s national women’s soccer team at 15, she retired in 2011 after tearing the anterior cruciate ligament in her right knee twice in five years. Last year, her competitive drive and love of the game compelled her to try a comeback.
In February, two days after she was cleared to work out with the national team, Lang’s hopes were dashed. “My knee literally exploded yesterday,” she tweeted on Feb. 13. “I’ve torn just about everything you can in a knee.”
Lang is 27 and is Romero 29, ages when accomplished athletes normally flourish. She teaches yoga. He tries it once in a while and appreciates the tranquility. She urges him to value the little victories, he says. “Like that bad first inning the other day. I come home and talk to my girlfriend, and she says, ‘Hey, you had a good second inning. Forget about the first one.’ ”
It is not that simple, of course, because sometimes a first inning is all a struggling pitcher gets. But Romero says he is getting better at putting the previous inning behind him and turning positive moments on the mound into a growing confidence that he can pitch in the big leagues again.
Romero says he is getting better at putting the previous inning behind him and turning positive moments on the mound into a growing confidence that he can pitch in the big leagues again.
“It might be different if I was throwing 80 miles an hour, but the velocity’s there,” he says. “Everything’s been there. I show flashes of it, man. My stuff hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s getting the rhythm, the consistency.”
On Saturday in Sarasota, Fla., against the Orioles, Romero got one inning to show his stuff. He walked the first two batters and you could almost hear critics thinking: Here we go again. Then he retired the next three in a row in routine fashion. Another little victory.
He knows his chances of breaking camp with the Jays are slim to none. He says he loves the competition for the vacant fifth starter’s spot, but at the moment, he is not even in it. But he seems to accept that all he can do is make the best of it, even if the road leads back to Triple-A Buffalo, where he languished last year while making US$7.5-million, a salary he is guaranteed this year and next under a deal signed in 2010, when all was well. And as always, he promises that no one will outwork him, even if he’s not Quadzilla.
“What’s the worst that can happen to me?” he asks. “I think what happened to me last year was not the end of the world. I survived it. Am I going to come out here and work hard every day? Absolutely. Do I want to be successful? Absolutely. Do I hate being in the minors? Without a doubt.
“But I’m going to work my tail off and do everything possible, not to get back to the guy I used to be, because the way I see it is, enough living in the past. It’s what I can do now and be better, and winning every day, and see the little wins each and every day, whether it’s in a drill or taking ground balls, whatever — see the little battles that I win, and not go home and focus on the ones I didn’t win.”
Back home in Los Angeles, some of his friends ask, “What happened to you?” But through it all, he says he understands that he remains one of the lucky ones, no matter what the recent statistics say.
“The support I’ve gotten from the people who matter the most — my family and close friends — it’s been unbelievable,” he says. “They all see the work and the determination. They say, ‘This book is going to have a nice ending.’ I think it’s about believing it. And little by little, I’m starting to believe it.”
http://sports.nationalpost.com/2014/03/02/toronto-blue-jays-ricky-romero-tries-to-rebound-with-stem-cell-treatment-and-positive-thinking/
In October, after spending the entire season in the minors with uneven results, Romero knew something had to be done about his knees. His research led him to undergo a procedure in which stem cells were extracted from the bone marrow in the back of his pelvis and injected into his knees. It was painful and it came with no guarantees, although the procedure is gaining in popularity and in many patients has triggered repair and regeneration of cartilage, tendons and ligaments.
Romero says he is hesitant to talk about it publicly, lest it sound like he is using his sore knees as an excuse for his performance decline. Pressed, he begins by saying it was “a crazy procedure.”
In October, after spending the entire season in the minors with uneven results, Ricky Romero knew something had to be done about his knees.
“They take bone marrow out of my low back, stick a big needle in, then inject it into your knees,” he says. “Painful. I felt like something shot me in the back for two, three days. That left me on crutches for three weeks, and in a brace. I had never used a crutch. The first day. I said, ‘How do you use these things?’ ”
A pitcher lives by his legs as much as his arm, and Romero has always prided himself on his grinding workout routine. He has come to believe he probably overdid the legwork in the weight room.
“We’ve taken a step back in the weight room,” he says. “The trainers are saying, ‘We’re not going to load you up to where you’re going to be Quadzilla out there.’ ”
After an off-season of treatment and rehab, his knees are starting to feel better.
“This stem-cell procedure is supposed to help tendons heal,” he says. “It’s healing, but it’s healing slowly. There’s so much stuff in there, it’s going to take a little bit of time to clean up.”
In 2011, Romero posted a 2.92 ERA over 225 innings and won 15 games. Throughout 2012, when he finished with a 5.77 ERA and 105 walks in 181 innings, reporters kept asking if he was healthy. He always said yes. After the season, he had minor elbow surgery and platelet-rich plasma injections in both knees.
“Yeah, I’m stubborn, man,” he says with a weak smile. “I wanted to get out of it by myself. I think one of the things I’ve learned is: Take care of your body; take care of you. That still means doing the things you have to do in the weight room, but it also means not being stubborn.”
But athletic success requires a degree of stubbornness, and the willingness to endure pain, and it can be a tricky business when your body tells you to yield and your mind retorts that yielding goes against everything you stand for as an athlete.
Lang, a Calgary native who grew up in Oakville, Ont., knows about knee problems too.
Ricky Romero’s girlfriend knows that. Kara Lang, a Calgary native who grew up in Oakville, Ont., knows about knee problems too. A member of Canada’s national women’s soccer team at 15, she retired in 2011 after tearing the anterior cruciate ligament in her right knee twice in five years. Last year, her competitive drive and love of the game compelled her to try a comeback.
In February, two days after she was cleared to work out with the national team, Lang’s hopes were dashed. “My knee literally exploded yesterday,” she tweeted on Feb. 13. “I’ve torn just about everything you can in a knee.”
Lang is 27 and is Romero 29, ages when accomplished athletes normally flourish. She teaches yoga. He tries it once in a while and appreciates the tranquility. She urges him to value the little victories, he says. “Like that bad first inning the other day. I come home and talk to my girlfriend, and she says, ‘Hey, you had a good second inning. Forget about the first one.’ ”
It is not that simple, of course, because sometimes a first inning is all a struggling pitcher gets. But Romero says he is getting better at putting the previous inning behind him and turning positive moments on the mound into a growing confidence that he can pitch in the big leagues again.
Romero says he is getting better at putting the previous inning behind him and turning positive moments on the mound into a growing confidence that he can pitch in the big leagues again.
“It might be different if I was throwing 80 miles an hour, but the velocity’s there,” he says. “Everything’s been there. I show flashes of it, man. My stuff hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s getting the rhythm, the consistency.”
On Saturday in Sarasota, Fla., against the Orioles, Romero got one inning to show his stuff. He walked the first two batters and you could almost hear critics thinking: Here we go again. Then he retired the next three in a row in routine fashion. Another little victory.
He knows his chances of breaking camp with the Jays are slim to none. He says he loves the competition for the vacant fifth starter’s spot, but at the moment, he is not even in it. But he seems to accept that all he can do is make the best of it, even if the road leads back to Triple-A Buffalo, where he languished last year while making US$7.5-million, a salary he is guaranteed this year and next under a deal signed in 2010, when all was well. And as always, he promises that no one will outwork him, even if he’s not Quadzilla.
“What’s the worst that can happen to me?” he asks. “I think what happened to me last year was not the end of the world. I survived it. Am I going to come out here and work hard every day? Absolutely. Do I want to be successful? Absolutely. Do I hate being in the minors? Without a doubt.
“But I’m going to work my tail off and do everything possible, not to get back to the guy I used to be, because the way I see it is, enough living in the past. It’s what I can do now and be better, and winning every day, and see the little wins each and every day, whether it’s in a drill or taking ground balls, whatever — see the little battles that I win, and not go home and focus on the ones I didn’t win.”
Back home in Los Angeles, some of his friends ask, “What happened to you?” But through it all, he says he understands that he remains one of the lucky ones, no matter what the recent statistics say.
“The support I’ve gotten from the people who matter the most — my family and close friends — it’s been unbelievable,” he says. “They all see the work and the determination. They say, ‘This book is going to have a nice ending.’ I think it’s about believing it. And little by little, I’m starting to believe it.”
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