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http://www.sacbee.com/content/sports/basketball/kings/story/11598193p-12491021c.html
Mark Kreidler: Christie deals with pain in foot one step at a time
By Mark Kreidler -- Bee Sports Columnist
Published 2:15 am PST Sunday, November 28, 2004
The first thing you have to know is that he played numb in the postseason last May because numb became preferable to knowing the levels of pain searing through his left foot. The second thing you have to know is that he doesn't ever want to do it again.
The third thing is that Doug Christie understands what it's like to feel 250 in dog years, because every now and again, when the planets and his nerve endings line up exactly wrong, those first couple of steps getting out of bed in the morning feel almost as great as having kabob skewers jabbed into one's delicates.
And the fourth is that Christie doesn't mention Nos. 1 through 3 unless specifically asked to do so.
Because the fifth thing - the real thing - is that the true NBA players seldom wince and tell.
This plantar fasciitis, it's a hoot. There's nothing quite like having the fibrous tissue that runs along the bottom of your foot essentially catch on fire and never get put out, which is the closest I can come to describing the effect of the chronic inflammation with which Christie now deals regularly.
It's a semi-common condition among elite athletes, who can so easily tear the plantar fascia with their constant stop-and-start sprinting, their vicious cuts back and forth on the playing surface.
You've seen how Christie plays basketball. I guess he was a plantar fasciitis waiting to happen.
But that's the rub, if not the irony. Doug Christie has built a 13-year NBA career very significantly on being able to outhustle the rest of both teams every time he takes the floor. Now, the Christie on display is a man dealing pretty much daily with the compromises forced by his age (34) and the foot problem, which, by the way, won't be going away anytime soon unless by divine intervention. The general recommendation to reduce the excruciatingly painful inflammation of plantar fasciitis is rest.
Missed it by that much.
"And if you do get off your feet, all of the building up of tolerance to the pain goes away," Christie said matter-of-factly the other day. "I did that during the summertime, and now I have to go through all those little micro-tears and other things over again. ...
"It's the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with as a player, because it's not like a bone break that you know is going to heal. With this, you'll have a good day, get out of bed and feel fine. The next day you get up, and it's like, Man, can I do this?"
Christie is a motion player whose motion is no longer taken for granted. On the days when the foot tissue is particularly inflamed, "Everything as far as movement is compromised, from walking to just standing up sometimes."
And yet you might not have noticed the compromise, because for Christie, his injury - his companion - takes fewer noticeable digs at his game.
He is learning to deal with the pain, but if he isn't vigilant, the whole thing gets in his head. It messes with him as he contemplates going for a steal or reaching in to swat away a pass.
"Those types of things, they're not a thought process - they're a reactionary experience," Christie said. "And now all of a sudden, I'm thinking about going to get a steal - just that split second of thinking about it - and that's too long. The opportunity is gone."
He became so frustrated by the phenomenon during last season's playoffs that he finally took a pain-killing injection during the Minnesota series. He won't do that again, he says, because, "You have to listen to your body. If you don't listen, after a while it breaks down. It has no choice."
But, of course, neither does Christie have a choice, not really. He's a defender. His game is athleticism and hustle. He is still Rick Adelman's choice to bottle up the other team's scorer, be it Tracy McGrady or Kobe Bryant or whomever the Timberwolves throw out there tonight.
"Luckily," Christie said, "I was blessed with being able to do more than score, so I'm still able to be a contributor in the game without shooting a lot."
That means defending a lot. Which means running and cutting a lot. Which, let's face it, hurts like hell.
"But I'm feeling a little better," the man says. Ask him again tomorrow.
Mark Kreidler: Christie deals with pain in foot one step at a time
By Mark Kreidler -- Bee Sports Columnist
Published 2:15 am PST Sunday, November 28, 2004
The first thing you have to know is that he played numb in the postseason last May because numb became preferable to knowing the levels of pain searing through his left foot. The second thing you have to know is that he doesn't ever want to do it again.
The third thing is that Doug Christie understands what it's like to feel 250 in dog years, because every now and again, when the planets and his nerve endings line up exactly wrong, those first couple of steps getting out of bed in the morning feel almost as great as having kabob skewers jabbed into one's delicates.
And the fourth is that Christie doesn't mention Nos. 1 through 3 unless specifically asked to do so.
Because the fifth thing - the real thing - is that the true NBA players seldom wince and tell.
This plantar fasciitis, it's a hoot. There's nothing quite like having the fibrous tissue that runs along the bottom of your foot essentially catch on fire and never get put out, which is the closest I can come to describing the effect of the chronic inflammation with which Christie now deals regularly.
It's a semi-common condition among elite athletes, who can so easily tear the plantar fascia with their constant stop-and-start sprinting, their vicious cuts back and forth on the playing surface.
You've seen how Christie plays basketball. I guess he was a plantar fasciitis waiting to happen.
But that's the rub, if not the irony. Doug Christie has built a 13-year NBA career very significantly on being able to outhustle the rest of both teams every time he takes the floor. Now, the Christie on display is a man dealing pretty much daily with the compromises forced by his age (34) and the foot problem, which, by the way, won't be going away anytime soon unless by divine intervention. The general recommendation to reduce the excruciatingly painful inflammation of plantar fasciitis is rest.
Missed it by that much.
"And if you do get off your feet, all of the building up of tolerance to the pain goes away," Christie said matter-of-factly the other day. "I did that during the summertime, and now I have to go through all those little micro-tears and other things over again. ...
"It's the most frustrating thing I've ever dealt with as a player, because it's not like a bone break that you know is going to heal. With this, you'll have a good day, get out of bed and feel fine. The next day you get up, and it's like, Man, can I do this?"
Christie is a motion player whose motion is no longer taken for granted. On the days when the foot tissue is particularly inflamed, "Everything as far as movement is compromised, from walking to just standing up sometimes."
And yet you might not have noticed the compromise, because for Christie, his injury - his companion - takes fewer noticeable digs at his game.
He is learning to deal with the pain, but if he isn't vigilant, the whole thing gets in his head. It messes with him as he contemplates going for a steal or reaching in to swat away a pass.
"Those types of things, they're not a thought process - they're a reactionary experience," Christie said. "And now all of a sudden, I'm thinking about going to get a steal - just that split second of thinking about it - and that's too long. The opportunity is gone."
He became so frustrated by the phenomenon during last season's playoffs that he finally took a pain-killing injection during the Minnesota series. He won't do that again, he says, because, "You have to listen to your body. If you don't listen, after a while it breaks down. It has no choice."
But, of course, neither does Christie have a choice, not really. He's a defender. His game is athleticism and hustle. He is still Rick Adelman's choice to bottle up the other team's scorer, be it Tracy McGrady or Kobe Bryant or whomever the Timberwolves throw out there tonight.
"Luckily," Christie said, "I was blessed with being able to do more than score, so I'm still able to be a contributor in the game without shooting a lot."
That means defending a lot. Which means running and cutting a lot. Which, let's face it, hurts like hell.
"But I'm feeling a little better," the man says. Ask him again tomorrow.
