Corporan on this Father’s Day: “God Bless America.” Plus news, notes and photos from L.A.
Carlos Corporan has plenty to be grateful for this Father’s Day weekend, even if it means being away from his family — specifically, his newborn son, not yet three weeks old.
It was only days ago that Corporan wasn’t sure if Carlos Jr. was going to live, but after the first of three surgeries and a positive prognosis, the new dad is feeling better about what’s to come.
The left chamber of Carlos Jr.’s heart didn’t properly develop in utero, and the condition required several surgical procedures to fix. There was a 25 percent survival rate after the first one, “but he made it,” Corporan said. “And he’s gained three pounds already.”
Corporan’s wife is with the baby in Oklahoma City and while his thoughts are with his family, he’s especially grateful for this stint with the Astros. The health insurance is much better in the big leagues than what he had as a Minor Leaguer, and the bump in salary — he’ll make the prorated Major League minimum during his time up here — is much needed during a time when the medical bills are piling up.
Corporan is also thankful for his baseball career because it brought him to a country that has much more stable health care than what’s available in his native Puerto Rico.
“Back in my country, he probably would have died,” Corporan said of his son. “They probably wouldn’t have found (the heart problem). God Bless America.”
Speaking of Father’s Day, if you haven’t read this touching article about Clint Barmes, please take some time to do so. Barmes’ strength was tested last offseason when he experienced several jolting life changes, including the death of his dad about a week after his daughter was born. A heart-warming and heart-breaking story by Brian McTaggart about one of the nicest people in the game.
As two of the Astros’ three Rodriguezes — Aneury and Wandy — sat side-by-side deep in chatty conversation, Deshaies spotted the third Rodriguez, Fernando, and coaxed him over to the group for a fun Father’s Day photo — Brothers in Arms:
* Unable to schedule a red-eye out of Los Angeles Saturday night, Hunter Pence instead caught a 5:30 a.m. flight back on Sunday to Houston, where he underwent an MRI on his hyperextended left elbow. The MRI revealed a sprain, but revealed no tears or ligament involvement. Pence’s range of motion has improved since Saturday. He is day-to-day and is listed as questionable for the Texas series.
* Corporan was in the starting lineup again on Sunday, which gives J.R. Towles another day to rest a banged up body and sore legs. Towles was available to play in the series finale in L.A. if needed, but ideally, Mills was hoping to stay away from him if possible.
* Humberto Quintero continues to work with a rehab therapist in Houston to recover from the high ankle sprain that knocked him to the disabled list a couple of weeks ago. Those hoping for a speedy return are going to be disappointed, however.
Quintero is still a ways away from a return and Mills said of Quintero’s chances to be healthy enough to go out on a rehab assignment during the upcoming homestand: “he’s not that close.”
We often joke that today’s technology has eliminated the need for people to actually talk to each other. We chuckle and roll our eyes at the notion, but let’s face it, there’s truth to it. Why call someone when you can get your point across with a text, email, tweet, or, my personal favorite, Facebook “poke?”
I’m sure silent communication is probably breaking down family dynamics and somehow messing up our kids, but let’s worry about that another time. For now, we dissect the course of events on Saturday at Dodger Stadium, where three people — fan Andy sitting to the right of the foul pole in right field, FS Houston telecast producer Wave Robinson, hunkered down in the TV truck on the seventh level of the Dodger Stadium parking lot, and your friendly neighborhood blogger (me), sitting on the fifth level of the ballpark in the press box — banded together to reach one common goal.
All without actually having to actually talk to each other.
Andy tipped me off through Twitter that he was coming to the game dressed in what I can only assume is his prized possession — his authentic Jim Deshaies No. 43 jersey. Flabbergasted but tickled pink that the jersey was still in circulation, I notified the TV trucksters, figuring they’d be interested to know our lovable television analyst was being well-repped in the Dodger Stadium grandstands.
Text to Wave: “Astros fan down 1b line will be wearing Deshaies jersey. Just in case your cameras are looking that way. He tweeted me a photo of the jersey and is very fired up about it.”
Wave: “Saw the tweet. Will find him for sure.”
Me: “Cool, thanks!”
Andy, meanwhile, tweets me a photo of the view from his seats. One word: obstructed. Right behind the right field foul pole, which stunk for Andy, but was great for us, because we could easily find him.
Text to wave: “I think he’s right next to RF foul pole. I can see him from here. Orange hat.”
Later, this text from Wave: “Can’t see the back. If you can reach him he needs to show the back toward the field. Maybe stand between innings.”
And this tweet from me to Andy: “They can’t get a good shot of your back…can you stand up and face the field? Thanks.”
And, 10 seconds later, another one from me to Andy: “Actually I mean stand up and have your back toward the field. Next half inning will work.”
Right on time, I see Andy looking down, presumably reading his Twitter feed. Seconds later, the inning ends and Andy pops up from his seat and turns his back to the field:
Three people in three entirely different areas of a gigantic stadium, talking with each other, with no actual spoken dialogue.
Sure, we sound silly when we use words like “tweeting” and “texting” and “tweeps” and “tweeple” and “friends of friends” and “followers,” but, hey, can we at least admit that it works?
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