Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 352 - 293: You Could Win the Lasker Medical Award

"So, you’re saying you think he needs a surgery he doesn’t actually need in order to treat him?"

In the office, Anjel’s mother, Grace, looked up from a pile of legal documents, her expression slightly weary as she asked uncertainly.

"Then what are all these?" she asked, gesturing to the documents in front of her.

"Protection," Chen Yu said bluntly. "Protection for our clinic, to ensure there are no legal disputes after this sham surgery."

Performing a sham surgery, even with the intention of treating the patient, carried significant legal risks.

This stack of documents was what Chen Yu had the clinic’s lawyers draft. The goal was to plug every possible legal loophole to prevent future problems.

And since Anjel couldn’t know the truth about the situation, Chen Yu had specifically asked his mother to come to Phoenix to sign them.

Grace rubbed her sore eyes. She seemed to grasp the gist of it. "In other words, if I don’t sign, you won’t treat him."

Chen Yu nodded.

Although he felt this method was worth a try and that Anjel needed treatment, Chen Yu couldn’t take on such a huge risk for a single patient.

He now had a reputation and a career, with so many people at the clinic depending on him. He was no longer the reckless youth he’d been back then, when he had nothing to his name.

Grace thought for a moment and picked up the pen, but she didn’t sign. After another moment of contemplation, she asked, "Dr. Chen, are you sure there’s no other way? Or, could you just open up his head and take a look? See if there’s really something wrong in there, like a brain tumor?"

Her expression was pained.

"He’s changed so much over the past year. He’s sensitive and quick to anger. I know he’s in a lot of pain, and I want to help him, but I just don’t know how. Did you know, he was such a well-behaved child when he was little?"

"When he was five, that damn father of his abandoned him. Ran off to New York to ’chase his dream of becoming an actor’ and never came back. It hit Rick hard, but he was good, so very good. He never once complained. When I had to work two jobs to support us, he always took care of himself and never caused me any trouble."

"Then he fell in love with baseball and practiced like his life depended on it. He told me he was going to make it to the Major Leagues, earn a lot of money, and buy me a big house. He’s a good kid. For him to become like this... I really feel like God is punishing us."

"Dr. Chen, I’m begging you, please try to find another way."

Chen Yu sighed and pushed the documents toward Grace. "That’s why I need you to sign these, so we can help him."

Grace hesitated, then grabbed the pen, opened the documents, and asked where to sign.

Chen Yu pointed to the spot.

But just as she was about to sign, Grace stopped again. "I’m sorry, this is a big deal. Can I have a lawyer look over these documents first?"

Chen Yu let out a soft sigh and nodded. "Of course. But I hope you’ll be quick about it. His condition is very poor. We’ve also given him some antidepressants, so after you take him back with you, you need to monitor his mental state. Contact us immediately if there are any changes."

Anjel’s mood was currently very volatile, and he was already showing aggressive tendencies.

In his condition, sedatives alone weren’t enough. Chen Yu had wanted to have him admitted to a psychiatric hospital, but Grace refused. She believed her son was just sick, not mentally unstable.

Fortunately, Anjel’s mood had improved somewhat after Grace arrived in Phoenix.

So, for the safety of the clinic and for Anjel’s emotional well-being, Chen Yu had suggested he return to his hotel and stay with his mother.

Grace nodded, stood up, and left.

"Chen, I still think this is a little too risky," Jamie said, getting up.

Even with the legal documents, he was afraid there might be some unforeseen loopholes.

Chen Yu sighed. "There is some risk, but he really needs to be treated."

"Alright, let’s not talk about this anymore." Chen Yu waved his hand dismissively. "I’ve been going through some research these past two days and studying his test reports. I have a few ideas."

As he walked out, Chen Yu continued, "One thing worth noting is that the yips often appear in frequent, excessive, repetitive training motions, like a golf putt, throwing darts, or in Rick’s case, pitching. When it comes to the pitching motion, you should know very well how terrifying the way these professional athletes throw is."

Jamie nodded in agreement.

If you filmed a pitcher’s throwing motion with a high-speed camera, it would be enough to scare anyone.

In that split second, based on the theory of throwing motions surpassing mechanical limits, a pitcher uses not only their own muscle strength but also the elastic recoil of their bones, joints, and ligaments to generate maximum force.

The entire process involves hyperextension. The whole arm whips forward, the elbow twists backward, and the shoulder moves in an exaggerated way that looks like a dislocation.

Just as Chen Yu said, this motion is terrifying, completely unnatural, and does significant damage to the body.

And any pitcher who makes it to a Major League mound has endured over a decade of this kind of training—or rather, this kind of abuse.

Jamie was starting to understand what Chen Yu meant. "You’re saying he has damage in his shoulder that machines can’t detect."

He paused, then offered an analogy: "It’s like a rubber band. After being stretched beyond its elastic limit countless times, it loses its proper elasticity. When you try to perform the same action again, it exceeds the body’s limits, and the body subconsciously resists, resulting in a trembling reaction."

Muscle tremors are, in themselves, a way to relieve spasms and tension.

"Exactly, that’s what I mean." Chen Yu nodded in agreement. "There’s some damage that machines can’t detect. When that happens, and you add in the psychological component, it ultimately leads to the onset of the yips."

The precision of machines has its limits; even Chen Yu’s Eye of All-Seeing has its limits.

"So I believe that even if his right arm shows no obvious damage, it still needs some rehabilitative therapy to give the body time to heal itself."

Only a three-pronged approach has a chance of curing, or at least alleviating, this condition.

Faced with such an unknown disease, Jamie couldn’t make an accurate judgment. He could only say, "You’re the attending physician; I trust your judgment. And speaking of which, if you can really cure the yips, I feel like winning a Lasker Award shouldn’t be a problem."

"Besides, there must be quite a few cases like this in Major League Baseball and in golf, right?"

Especially in golf. The people who play golf aren’t poor. With Anjel’s case as a precedent, it should be able to increase the clinic’s revenue.

"Forget about any awards." Chen Yu waved his hand. "With my current reputation, I don’t need an award to burnish my name."

He was a brand name in and of himself.

Besides, this treatment approach was still based on the system’s effects. Whether it would actually work was something they’d only know after the treatment.

Glancing at his watch, Chen Yu said, "I’m heading to the lab. Contact me immediately if you hear anything from this end."

Having a lawyer review the documents shouldn’t take too long.

He drove to the sports laboratory.

With the new season about to start, almost all the clients were gone. Now, only O’Neal was left.

His free-throw improvement plan was already on the schedule.

When he arrived, Nelson and his team were conducting a data analysis of O’Neal’s free-throw form.

"Shaq, take this seriously," Nelson shouted.

O’Neal stood there lazily, one hand on his hip, the other cradling the ball, clearly not taking it seriously.

But a glance from the corner of his eye caught Chen Yu walking in. He immediately straightened up, got into position, and started aiming at the basket in earnest.

Nelson rolled his eyes, speechless.

But what could he do? O’Neal’s training attitude was poor to begin with. Plus, he wasn’t some scrub; he was a superstar who wouldn’t necessarily even listen to Jackson, let alone Nelson himself.

In front of Chen Yu, however, O’Neal was unusually obedient.

’Maybe it’s because of how badly Chen Yu worked him over on the bed before?’

Chen Yu ignored O’Neal and went to the equipment, carefully examining the collected data.

In truth, O’Neal’s low free-throw percentage was only relative. In this kind of routine practice, his accuracy wasn’t bad at all; he could still make about eighty percent of his shots.

But in a real game, it was a different story. His muscles were powerful, and under high-intensity physical contact, they tended to tense up. Add to that his enormous hands, which made a basketball feel as light as a balloon, and it was naturally difficult to control his power.

At the same time, a wrist injury from his childhood that prevented him from fully flexing his wrist was also a contributing factor.

These three factors combined to result in his pitifully low free-throw percentage during games.

Most importantly, he didn’t care. He felt he didn’t need the points from free throws anyway.

But that was in the past. Chen Yu, having previously worked for the league, knew the direction things were heading internally. From the constant rule changes—allowing zone defense, reintroducing the defensive three-second violation—it couldn’t all be attributed to O’Neal, but the general trend was to limit defense and encourage perimeter offense.

Because fans who bought tickets would rather watch guards showcase their flashy offensive talents than see a brutal defensive battle.

This shift in trend did have an impact on O’Neal.

For instance, he could no longer just mindlessly camp under the basket; he had to move, which increased his defensive burden.

The allowance of zone defense, in particular, made it easier for O’Neal to get trapped in double-teams in the paint. The perimeter players also couldn’t get the ball to him as easily, all of which diminished his dominance.

And since there wasn’t much room for O’Neal’s skills to improve, the simplest way to increase his threat was to draw fouls under the basket and add to his score through free throws.

"Carry on," Chen Yu said without offering any opinion, signaling for them to continue.

With him present, O’Neal was taking things much more seriously.

Nelson and the others were still trying to simulate real game conditions as much as possible. For example, before a free throw, they had O’Neal knock over several large sandbags and then do a few sets of bench presses to increase the fatigue in his upper body muscles.

It was only because his feet were still in the recovery period; otherwise, the simulation would have been even more realistic.

Then, under these fatigued conditions, he would shoot free throws. They would record his shooting form under pressure and try to find ways to improve it.