McCann has vision of better season
Eye trouble was scary problem, but glasses revive slugger's edge.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution, May 17, 2009
Doctors, family, National League pitchers and everyone else seem to agree: Brian "Specs" McCann can see from here to next week again.
"He's back to just being Brian," said McCann's father, Howie.
"I told Brian I'm happy for both him and his family," said Buckhead optometrist David Ross. "And I'm happy for me. Now I don't have to leave town."
The monthlong saga of McCann's unhappy eyeballs frustrated the catcher and unsettled a fan base getting the wrong impression that one of their stars was morphing into Mr. Magoo.
All is calm for now, as McCann, behind the snazzy new sports glasses he modeled at home for the first time Friday, tries to raise his batting average to more familiar heights.
Contrast that to the frightening realization that hit him April 17 when Pirates starter Paul Maholm threw a wake-up pitch up and in.
"That was the final straw for me," McCann said. "It really wasn't that up and in, but I couldn't really track it. It zoomed by my face. I thought: If that was more up and in, I wouldn't have seen it. I don't need to be out here and cause something serious."
Dealing with a sense so delicate and wondrous as sight was a little different than trying to shake off a sprain. At the core of what made McCann 2008's Silver Slugger catcher is the ability to visually pick up the ball as soon as it leaves the pitcher's hand. When that is compromised the slightest bit, a difficult chore becomes next to impossible -- and dangerous.
Changed after Lasik
Since his 2007 Lasik surgery, McCann's eyes had changed. He didn't really begin to notice, he said, until the start of this season. But the change was drastic.
Saturday, in the Braves clubhouse, McCann took off his glasses, closed his better eye, the right one, and said he could not clearly make out the numbers on a digital clock 30 feet away.
"I close my left eye and see everything crystal clear (out of his right). I close my right eye and can't read the scoreboard" from the dugout. "Can't distinguish between a 2 and an 8, a 3 and a 9," he said.
"Until we got the two eyes equalized, it was not going to be better," said Alan Kozarsky, the Atlanta ophthalmologist who did the Lasik, and one of several doctors on the case this month.
So much for the theory that McCann could bat .250 blindfolded. In his first 13 games, a career .297 hitter was at .195.
"If you pick (the ball) up a fraction of a second later than normal, you're a fraction late and you hit a ground ball instead of a line drive," said Howie McCann, who also instructs hitters in Alpharetta.
"Then he started pulling everything because now he was trying to start a swing earlier" to compensate. "Go back and look at some of his tape early, he wasn't using the whole field. What makes him such a great hitter is he uses the whole ballpark."
McCann was taken out of the lineup in Pittsburgh on April 19 because of "eye irritation." By that time, he was using a once daily ointment and eye drops six times a day.
After visiting one specialist in Washington, he briefly was back in the lineup before being scratched in Cincinnati on April 24 and eventually placed on the 15-day disabled list.
The McCann boys had been taught early by their father to play through most any injury. But this was something else. There was no gutting out this type of problem.
"I was more concerned with him mentally," McCann's father said. "He was miserable. Hitters have got to hit. And he's always been a hitter. When he doesn't hit, he's not happy. And when he's not contributing to the team, he's not happy."
Contacts didn't help
By the end of April, McCann had seen three eye specialists and tried as many different sets of contact lenses. His eyes just weren't buying any of it. Eventually, the lenses began to feel like they were made of sandpaper.
Ross said it is possible for a Lasik patient to develop some eye dryness, and they may find contacts ineffective in balancing any change in vision that may occur. It was his idea to go old school and try glasses.
"That was the last resort" before going in for another round of Lasik, said McCann.
Ross is an optometrist who makes house calls. Fitting McCann with lenses at Turner Field, where McCann could test his vision on the proper scale, they quickly found the prescription that would bring his left eye in sync with his right. The effects were almost immediate.
"My first at-bat I had under the lights in my Triple-A rehab start (May 7), I knew it was going to be alright," McCann said.
On his second game back, May 9 in Philly, McCann was 3-for-4. While rounding the bases after a two-run homer, he radiated relief. "You could just see that old smile back," said his father.
Entering Saturday night's game, McCann was hitting .400 since coming back from the DL, raising his season's average 78 points to .273.
Unusual as it seems for a Lasik patient to require glasses, McCann will try to finish the season wearing them at least while hitting. Because of fogging, he has resisted wearing them while catching. Away from the field, he wears them full time.
He and the doctors will discuss correcting his vision with additional Lasik in the offseason, but nothing is set. As for regrets about getting the original laser surgery done at the age of 23, he said, "I've got none at all. That '08 season, I've never seen that good in my life. My eyes were stable for three-and-a-half years before they changed this year. All the signs were right to do the Lasik."
At least, these aren't your father's -- or even Kurt Rambis' -- sports goggles.
"I'm sure people want to make fun of me on this team, but they can't, because they don't look too bad," McCann proudly said.
Just wait until one of them trots out the old standard "Four Eyes" label.
"As long as I can see the baseball," McCann answered, "I don't care what they call me."