A day later, Oct. 4, after Freeman finished a news conference in which he declared himself ready to play despite the ankle injury, he retreated to the batting cage at Dodger Stadium. He wanted to take some swings in preparation for a live batting-practice session. His side tingled with each of his first dozen swings. On the 13th swing, Freeman felt a jolt through his body and crumbled to the ground.
Unable to even pick himself off the floor, Freeman was helped into the X-ray room next to Los Angeles' dugout. The results were inconclusive, and around 9:30 p.m., he received a call. The Dodgers wanted him to drive to Santa Monica for more imaging. He hopped in the car, then in an MRI tube. Around 11:30 p.m., the results arrived: Freeman had broken the costal cartilage in his sixth rib, an injury that typically sidelines players for months.
Devastation set in. Walking hurt. Breathing stung. Swinging a bat felt like an impossibility.
Freeman's father, Fred, worried about his youngest son, whom he raised after Freeman's mother, Rosemary, died of melanoma when Freddie was 10. He saw the anguish in every minuscule movement. Considering the injuries to his rib and ankle and the lasting soreness from a middle finger he fractured in August, surely Freeman was too beaten up to keep playing. Surely there would be more postseasons, more opportunities.
"I actually told him to stop," Fred said. "I said, 'Freddie, this is not worth it. I know you love baseball. I love baseball. But it's not worth what you're going through.' And he looked at me like I was crazy, and he said, 'Dad, I'm never going to stop.'"
