RJ Umberger, Playing Through Pain, and “Looking Yourself in the Mirror”

So RJ Umberger was pretty banged up by the end of the season. Over at Blue Jackets Xtra yesterday were the complete transcripts of post-season interviews from a few players, including RJ. Turns out Umberger had been dealing with a broken finger, separated shoulder and herniated disc. Ouch. I’ve dealt with (and played through) two of those injuries in the past and it is not particularly fun. First things first: RJ Umberger. So turns out his healthy scratch was more of a “healthy” scratch. Not sure how that is allowed by the league, but whatever. It makes evaluating RJ’s season difficult, as he spent nearly half of it dealing with injuries significant enough to impact his playing ability. Similar to evaluating Nathan Horton, another player who played through pain and looked the worse for it on the ice. While RJ’s play may have been down late in the year, there is value to what he brought to the team.

That value comes in the form of “looking yourself in the mirror”. It’s a classic coaching line: “can you look yourself in the mirror after the game and know you gave it all you got”, or something to that effect. Usually the problem is defining “all you got”. Well when you have a guy playing through things like Umberger, and still crashing the net, going to the corners, and throwing the body around, you now have a measuring stick.

The longest playoff run I ever went on as a player occurred while I had a separated shoulder. By the end of the playoffs, I had two separated shoulders and a (possibly) fractured wrist. I was going to games with my arms in slings, taking some painkillers, putting on the gear, then hitting everything that moved out on the ice. The coaches and players knew what was going on with me medically. After the run ended (in a championship) a few teammates and coaches had some very special words for me, things that bring back all kinds of nostalgic feelings over a decade later. The implied impact is this: if he can go through that, and is willing to go through that, then what can I do? You might end up blocking a few extra shots, winning a couple of puck battles you might have previously lost, and just playing tougher hockey than usual.

As for the physical implications of playing through the injury, the game itself is always the easiest part. With most playable injuries, the problem is pain. During the game you have a few things going for you. First, and most obvious is painkillers. While you might be on a little less than if you weren’t playing (can’t cloud the mind up too much), they are integral for warm-up and the first shift. Once you get that first shift in, the adrenaline picks up. When it’s pumping you can hardly feel a thing. This is further helped by the equipment worn by hockey players. Just about every body part is wrapped up tight in some piece of armor. It helps keep swelling down, keeps things numb, and combined with the adrenaline, makes the pain much more tolerable. This is all especially useful for playing through an injury suffered in-game. Block a shot with your foot, and maybe you can keep playing. But as soon as that skate comes off, your foot is ballooning up, and you are done for the night.

Finally, you have the nature of hockey itself that minimizes the impact of an injury during game play. A broken finger isn’t a huge deal during the game, as you probably aren’t messing it up too much more mid-game. Hockey is physical, and you’ll be getting hit, slashed, crosschecked, etc. all game long. If you have the “right” injury, every stick or hit can be a little pinch of pain elsewhere that helps take your mind off the real injury.

What makes RJ’s response to injury most noticeable is that his injuries weren’t of that nature – when you have a back and shoulder injury it’s the worst. Every hit and crosscheck will make those ache even more. Post-game is usually not too bad, as you get some more meds, the trainers get a chance to work on you a little bit, and you’re still winding down from the game. The next morning is when it hits the hardest. You can barely move, barely get out of bed, and you just want to lie there never moving again. But you get up, get moving, and keep at it. Your roommate sees this, sees that pain, and knows you are going to go back work on the ice. They probably tell a teammate or two, and everyone knows. And all of them have to look themselves in the mirror knowing what you were willing to do for the team.