Phil Sheridan: Playing games with the injury reports

If truth is the first casualty in an activity as frivolous as war, how can it stand a chance in a serious business like baseball or football or ice hockey?

As a society, we may accept shamelessly distorted reporting about politics and government, but we expect - nay, demand - the full, unvarnished truth in such vital matters as knee cartilage, surgical sutures, and tight hamstrings.

So it was no surprise when Phillies general manager Ruben Amaro Jr. felt compelled Monday to address reporters in Clearwater about the muddied waters surrounding Chase Utley's status. For weeks, questions about Utley's knee(s) were met with a mantra about him taking his time to be ready for opening day. Suddenly last week, Utley was jetting off to double-secret locales to consult unknown persons about the conditions of his knee(s). Opening day? No chance.

So why did the Phillies lie?

"Why would I lie to the public?" Amaro said, stealing the question right out from under us. "How is that going to make the organization's relationship with the public better? What benefit would I have to tell you Chase is fine when I know that he's not?"

Nice try, Ruben, but logic isn't going to help you out of this mess. Surely the plan was to raise the hopes of Phillies fans to great heights then bring them crashing down in misery and disappointment. We know that as surely as we know the Phillies haven't done a single thing to field a competitive team in the National League East the past few years.

The payroll? The acquisitions of Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, Hunter Pence, and Jonathan Papelbon? The division titles? Don't insult us with facts. This is serious. We need to know the precise date and time of day that Utley's knee(s) will feel good enough for him to return to the lineup, as well as the exact moment that Ryan Howard's Achilles will return to full strength. And we need to know that as of yesterday, thank you.

Of course, Amaro is a veritable oracle of veracity when compared with the stewards of some of our other teams.

Just this week, the Flyers announced that defenseman Kimmo Timonen has an upper-body injury. This could be anything from a concussion to a sprained shoulder to a case of van Gogh's ear. All we can really rule out is that nothing is wrong with Timonen's knee(s).

This secrecy is part of the culture of hockey, or so we're told. If opponents know where an injury is, they can target the player's vulnerable area. So it is very important, from a competitive standpoint, to give as little information as possible.

Unless there is a dollar in it, that is. If HBO shows up with camera crews and writes a check with enough zeros, then concerns about players' injuries being targeted get Zambonied right off the ice. Suddenly, trainers are giving players concussion baseline tests in high definition and surround sound.

That hush-hush "upper-body injury" to Sean Couturier is revealed to all the world to be a gash behind his ear caused by a wayward puck. Fortunately, no one in the NHL has HBO and can figure out where to target Couturier in future games.

Over in the NFL, the culture is very different. The commissioner's office insists upon full disclosure of player injuries and availability for games. This commendable commitment to the truth is, of course, based on the unspoken reality that interest in football is fueled by gambling - some of it even legal. The league doesn't care if a diehard Eagles fan is interested in whether Michael Vick can play on Sunday. It cares that the information is crucial to the setting of point spreads.

The Eagles must follow the league's rules with their weekly injury report. Good thing, too, or every injured player would be "rehabbing that thing like crazy" and "getting better with that thing."

The bigger "truthiness" problem with the Eagles is in getting explanations for what actually happens on the field. Why did Andy Reid choose to throw on fourth-and-inches? Why did Ronnie Brown turn at the line of scrimmage and then deliberately fumble the ball away? Who was responsible for covering the wide-open receiver who scored the game-breaking touchdown?

This is not your business.

Frankly, it's no wonder Doug Collins is such a pariah in this city. What are we to make of a coach who tells you what happened, why it happened, and who was responsible? Who has a keen understanding of the game and his players, and burdens the fans by passing that insight on to them?

How can we as mere paying customers and lifelong supporters of these teams be expected to handle the truth? It's enough to drive us simple sports fans to our knee(s).