Lamelo's injuries were flukes.
Lonzo Ball will undergo a third surgery on his left knee that is expected to cost him most, if not all, of the 2023-24 season
- Thread starter Morethan1
- Start date
Serious knee injuries are increasing at every level, and from I read damn near every doctor blames the same shyt:
1. They're starting to play serious ball at younger and younger ages
2. They're starting to focus on a single sport earlier, rather than diversifying
3. They're learning moves like the crossover and Eurostep that put a lot more pressure on the joints (for defenders trying to guard that shyt too), along with jumping more and higher
It's difficult to categorically prove the cause of injuries across an entire sport. But the fact that injuries are increasing at every level is well proven - I've linked a lot of studies on that.
How does that compare to Euro players?
The studies I read were all American studies. I don't know much about European youth bball culture or if they've done any injury studies.
Here are some studies that focus on the NBA specifically:
Here's a study that found injuries increased 12.4% from the 1980s to the 1990s
Injury in the National Basketball Association: A 17-Year Overview
Here's an article from back in 2013 regarding why ACL injuries are increasing.
How to Explain Rash of NBA ACL Injuries
2018 article about the phenomenom
The NBA Pushes its Tallest Players to Do More Than Their Bodies Can Handle
Here's an 2019 article discussing the fact that ACL injuries in NBA/NFL were continuing to increase.
Why Have ACL Tears Become More Common in Pro Sports? - Sportscasting | Pure Sports
Last edited:
We were talking about AAU earlier, I randomly ran into a 2019 article that talks about just how much AAU is contributing to youth bball injuries and thus players coming into the NBA with already-broken bodies.
This is just a small excerpt of a longer article.
www.espn.in
Typically, a procedure to reconstruct a torn ACL might take 60 minutes for an adult, but this one is taking longer because the X-ray technician is wheeling over the machine after almost every maneuver and because each X-ray is scrutinized to make sure that nearby growth plates, which have not yet closed, are not endangered. Extra time is also taken to ensure that the meniscus, the cushion of the knee, is repaired to prevent the early onset of arthritis. These steps would not be taken on an adult who has stopped growing, but this is not an adult.
It is a 9-year-old boy.
Years ago, as a 10-year-old growing up in Chicago, Dr. Pandya had planned to follow his father, a family doctor, into medicine -- in his case, specifically to become the Chicago Bulls' team doctor. During his residency training in Philadelphia, Pandya decided that he wanted to work with kids. And seven years ago, he moved to the Walnut Creek branch of the UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital, which examines patients up to age 25. But one day, about five years ago, in came a new patient: an 8-year-old boy, a local basketball player who had ruptured his ACL.
"He was this kid who was basically playing four or five days a week," Pandya recalls. "He was doing drills all the time, and he was playing and landed wrong." His ACL popped. Pandya couldn't believe that such an injury could happen to someone so young.
In the years that followed, Pandya says, more kids that age began to come in, and the operating rooms filled with surgical trainees who came to watch because they had never seen such injuries to kids. But, in time, it became so commonplace that soon the shock wore off -- no longer did an ACL surgery to an 8-year-old raise eyebrows, nor did the constant stream of patients so young seem unusual. Five years ago, Pandya estimates that he alone would see about 1,500 pediatric sports injuries and perform maybe 150 surgeries -- ACL, cartilage, shoulder injuries -- in a single year; those numbers have "skyrocketed," he says, and last year stood at 6,000 and 400, respectively. More than half of his operations are now on those under the age of 14.
Often, Pandya says, he knows exactly what he'll find before ever making an incision, before the arthroscope reveals what's beneath the surface. He can roll the knee in his hands, and it might feel loose, like a bunch of untethered parts. He knows he'll see cartilage that should look paper white but is grayish -- not smooth, but rough -- not hard and solid, but soft and spongy. He knows he'll see an ACL and it will it not look intact, like a new shoelace, but frayed, like it's been through a meat grinder.
During the procedures, Pandya is focused on each step, knowing the pitfalls -- avoid hitting a nerve or blood vessel, be precise when drilling through bone to create a small hole through which to thread the new tendon. On the 15-minute drive from his home in Oakland to the clinic, he mentally prepares himself. How will the kid respond? How will the parents respond? Will each side listen? Will they take the rehabilitation seriously? Will they take the proper steps and be diligent?
Sometimes, he'll see kids who aren't injured but are in pain, month after month. "Look, you just need to stop," Pandya will tell the parents, "if you play 40 hours a week of basketball, you're going to get injured."
Time and again, though, the first question parents ask is not about the well-being of their kids, but simply, "When can my kid get back out there?" Pandya will explain the potential hazards of the surgery, including risk of infection or re-injury. He'll show them a picture of what a healthy knee looks like for someone of their child's age -- and then show them what their kid's knee looks like now: routinely worn to the point that it appears three decades older than it should.
But often, he says, the only time parents appear truly shocked is when they're told how long their child will be sidelined.
Pandya sees the kids throughout their rehabilitation process. Some he's seen for years; he reconstructed their ACL only for it to be torn again. In some cases, he has repaired their ACLs three times by their early teenage years. The parents drop the kid off for physical therapy almost every day, but the kid lives with the injury, the rehab, every single day. Sometimes, they'll confide in Pandya.
Look, I don't want to go back, the kids will tell him. I'm afraid of going back. I don't enjoy it anymore. I've spent my past three years just rehabbing. That's all I do. I go from one surgery to the next. I just want to be a kid.
Today, when he leaves the operating room, Dr. Pandya removes his surgical mask. He's 5-foot-6 and lean, a former collegiate track athlete at the University of Chicago. He's just finished his second ACL reconstruction surgery of the day; he does up to four a day now, two days a week. Earlier this morning, he reconstructed the ACL of a 12-year-old boy, a skier. The day before, another ACL, that of another 12-year-old boy, a soccer player. He heads to his office, takes a seat and resets for a minute.
The article goes into depth regarding how much more stress young developing athletes go through today compared to previous generations. Sadly, they focus on teenage Zion as someone who was already seeing the impact of overplaying on the youth circuits.
This is just a small excerpt of a longer article.
Under the knife: Exposing America's youth basketball crisis
In Part 2 of a two-part series, ESPN reveals how doctors, trainers and surgeons are forced to rebuild the world's best young basketball players.
Typically, a procedure to reconstruct a torn ACL might take 60 minutes for an adult, but this one is taking longer because the X-ray technician is wheeling over the machine after almost every maneuver and because each X-ray is scrutinized to make sure that nearby growth plates, which have not yet closed, are not endangered. Extra time is also taken to ensure that the meniscus, the cushion of the knee, is repaired to prevent the early onset of arthritis. These steps would not be taken on an adult who has stopped growing, but this is not an adult.
It is a 9-year-old boy.
Years ago, as a 10-year-old growing up in Chicago, Dr. Pandya had planned to follow his father, a family doctor, into medicine -- in his case, specifically to become the Chicago Bulls' team doctor. During his residency training in Philadelphia, Pandya decided that he wanted to work with kids. And seven years ago, he moved to the Walnut Creek branch of the UCSF Benioff Children's Hospital, which examines patients up to age 25. But one day, about five years ago, in came a new patient: an 8-year-old boy, a local basketball player who had ruptured his ACL.
"He was this kid who was basically playing four or five days a week," Pandya recalls. "He was doing drills all the time, and he was playing and landed wrong." His ACL popped. Pandya couldn't believe that such an injury could happen to someone so young.
In the years that followed, Pandya says, more kids that age began to come in, and the operating rooms filled with surgical trainees who came to watch because they had never seen such injuries to kids. But, in time, it became so commonplace that soon the shock wore off -- no longer did an ACL surgery to an 8-year-old raise eyebrows, nor did the constant stream of patients so young seem unusual. Five years ago, Pandya estimates that he alone would see about 1,500 pediatric sports injuries and perform maybe 150 surgeries -- ACL, cartilage, shoulder injuries -- in a single year; those numbers have "skyrocketed," he says, and last year stood at 6,000 and 400, respectively. More than half of his operations are now on those under the age of 14.
Often, Pandya says, he knows exactly what he'll find before ever making an incision, before the arthroscope reveals what's beneath the surface. He can roll the knee in his hands, and it might feel loose, like a bunch of untethered parts. He knows he'll see cartilage that should look paper white but is grayish -- not smooth, but rough -- not hard and solid, but soft and spongy. He knows he'll see an ACL and it will it not look intact, like a new shoelace, but frayed, like it's been through a meat grinder.
During the procedures, Pandya is focused on each step, knowing the pitfalls -- avoid hitting a nerve or blood vessel, be precise when drilling through bone to create a small hole through which to thread the new tendon. On the 15-minute drive from his home in Oakland to the clinic, he mentally prepares himself. How will the kid respond? How will the parents respond? Will each side listen? Will they take the rehabilitation seriously? Will they take the proper steps and be diligent?
Sometimes, he'll see kids who aren't injured but are in pain, month after month. "Look, you just need to stop," Pandya will tell the parents, "if you play 40 hours a week of basketball, you're going to get injured."
Time and again, though, the first question parents ask is not about the well-being of their kids, but simply, "When can my kid get back out there?" Pandya will explain the potential hazards of the surgery, including risk of infection or re-injury. He'll show them a picture of what a healthy knee looks like for someone of their child's age -- and then show them what their kid's knee looks like now: routinely worn to the point that it appears three decades older than it should.
But often, he says, the only time parents appear truly shocked is when they're told how long their child will be sidelined.
Pandya sees the kids throughout their rehabilitation process. Some he's seen for years; he reconstructed their ACL only for it to be torn again. In some cases, he has repaired their ACLs three times by their early teenage years. The parents drop the kid off for physical therapy almost every day, but the kid lives with the injury, the rehab, every single day. Sometimes, they'll confide in Pandya.
Look, I don't want to go back, the kids will tell him. I'm afraid of going back. I don't enjoy it anymore. I've spent my past three years just rehabbing. That's all I do. I go from one surgery to the next. I just want to be a kid.
Today, when he leaves the operating room, Dr. Pandya removes his surgical mask. He's 5-foot-6 and lean, a former collegiate track athlete at the University of Chicago. He's just finished his second ACL reconstruction surgery of the day; he does up to four a day now, two days a week. Earlier this morning, he reconstructed the ACL of a 12-year-old boy, a skier. The day before, another ACL, that of another 12-year-old boy, a soccer player. He heads to his office, takes a seat and resets for a minute.
The article goes into depth regarding how much more stress young developing athletes go through today compared to previous generations. Sadly, they focus on teenage Zion as someone who was already seeing the impact of overplaying on the youth circuits.
Also, here's a study that showed three clear correlations behind NBA injuries:
1. The more minutes you've played recently, the more likely you are about to get hurt
2. The more days of rest you've had recently, the less likely you are about to get hurt
3. The more game load you have (measured by rebounds and field goal attempts), the more likely you are to get hurt
4. The more years you've been playing, the more likely you are to get hurt
Load matters.
1. The more minutes you've played recently, the more likely you are about to get hurt
2. The more days of rest you've had recently, the less likely you are about to get hurt
3. The more game load you have (measured by rebounds and field goal attempts), the more likely you are to get hurt
4. The more years you've been playing, the more likely you are to get hurt
Load matters.
Context:
National Basketball Association (NBA) athletes experience a high rate of injuries. Injury prevention requires identifying observable and controllable risk factors.Objective:
To examine the relationship among game load, fatigue, and injuries in NBA athletes.Setting:
Game statistics and injury reports over 3 NBA seasons (2012–2015).Patients or Other Participants:
Data represented 627 players (height = 200.7 ± 8.9 cm, mass = 100.6 ± 12.1 kg, NBA experience = 4.8 ± 4.2 years, pre-NBA experience = 3.2 ± 1.9 years), 73 209 games, and 1663 injury events.Main Outcome Measure(s):
An injury event was defined as a player missing or leaving a game due to injury. Logistic multilevel regression was used to predict injuries from time-lagged fatigue and game load with between-subjects differences explained by demographic variables.Results:
The odds of injury increased by 2.87% (P < .001) for each 96 minutes played and decreased by 15.96% (P < .001) for each day of rest. Increases in game load increased injury odds by 8.23% (P < .001) for every additional 3 rebounds and 9.87% (P < .001) for every additional 3 field-goal attempts. When fatigue and game load were held constant, injury odds increased by 3.03% (P = .04) for each year of NBA experience and 10.59% (P = .02) for a 6-cm decrease in height. I observed variability in the intercepts (P < .001) and the slopes for minutes, rest, field-goal attempts, and rebounds (all P < .001).
Them shoes didn’t cause all this, stop it. People have been playing ball in much worse shoes without tearing their knees to smithereens.
The Bulls ruined whatever they were trying to do by having Derozan, LaVine and Lonzo as a group in the first place
Players in the 50-70s played in much worse shoes
We just cant get right....
I’ll put it this way, if you’ve ever sprained your ankle badly and start wearing ankle braces, you basically gotta wear them the rest of your career. Ie Curry wears ankle braces to this day. Your ankles will get used to a certain type/level of support and you’d be weaker without them bc that part goes a long time without working as hard.
I say all that to say: older players’ bodies adapted to no support. You can’t miss what you never had. Whereas Lonzo and anyone else wearing normal modern hoops shoes our bodies are accustomed to a certain basic level of support. So if those shoes were so fukked up that they didn’t have a BASIC level of support—-he said they busted open every game—-yes, they absolutely could expose his body, aggravate or cause a weakness, or cause injury.
Last edited:
J-MIL
Fly Sh!t Only
I hope he saved his money
Let's also point out that most players in the 1950s were moving nothing like players today. They didn't have a crossover, they didn't have a Eurostep, they didn't have to rush from the rim to the 3pt line and back to switch between different players. Bob Cousy literally said in 1963 that the jump shot was the worst thing that had happened to basketball and, "Any time you can do something on the ground, it's better." It wasn't the same game and that's one reason there are so many more injuries.
expected
Bro so young too smh
Injuries are the only thing that could stop the BBB empire
And the shoes...