Some Pain From The Texas Rangers' Postseason Will Never Subside

FORT WORTH (CBSDFW.COM) – Questioning whether the sun would, in fact, rise in the wake of Game 7 of the World Series, Frank Platt lay flat on his back, cringed at the pain and pondered his pitiful predicament.

Body throbbing. Spirit trampled. Mind aching. Future uncertain.

And we haven't even gotten to the part about his favorite baseball team losing.

While the most epic collapse in America's pastime playoff history left most Texas Rangers fans with a broken heart, Platt is also dealing with shattered bones and a fractured life. Two weeks before his Rangers twice came within one strike of beating the St. Louis Cardinals to win their first World Series, Platt was the victim of a brutal, unprovoked attack at Rangers Ballpark that left him with injuries much more serious than hurt feelings. As he hobbled into the Chili's on Hulen Drive last Saturday with his broken leg and torn ankle ligaments on crutches and as he painfully fought his way through lunch and an interview with a broken jaw, it became immediately apparent that the Rangers' 2011 playoffs would stick with Platt a little longer, and much stronger than most fans.

As in, forever.

"I try to stay positive and go on with my life," Platt struggles to mumble as his wife, Kacy, cuts his hamburger into manageable bites. "I'll still be a Rangers fan. Always have been. But what happened to me will stay with me the rest of my life."

Frank and Kacy met through a mutual friend and, in February of 2009, and started dating through baseball.

"The Rangers were always on dates with us," says Kacy. "We either went to games or made some nachos and watched them at one of our places on TV. They're an important part of our life."

They married in April and are pursuing the American dream: house, kids, championships. The works. Frank, 30, grew up in Haltom City, graduated from UT-Arlington and is an engineer for a Saginaw company that builds lighting structures for large buildings and even sports stadiums. Kacy, 25, is a TCU girl by way of Little Rock, Arkansas who's getting her Master's in psychology from North Texas.

They live in a modest apartment in southwest Fort Worth. They have so little room that the wedding gifts are merely stacked against the wall. They had a savings. Had.

Frank originally bought tickets for Game 2 of the American League Championship Series between the Rangers and Detroit Tigers. Since that game was rained out and re-scheduled for a Monday on which he had to work, he took a chance and bought tickets on StubHub for a possible Game 6.

On Saturday, Oct. 15 Mother Nature, a gamble, a dog, testosterone and a quartet of thugs all converged on the Platts.

Like they do for the dozen or so games they attend per season, the couple packed a cooler and headed for Rangers Ballpark in Arlington at around 4 p.m. Miller Lite. Dos Equis. Pretzels. Nuts. Frank in his 2010 AL Champions cap. Kacy in her No. 5 Ian Kinsler jersey. Memories in the waiting.

"I was excited," says Frank. "I was at Game 6 of the ALCS when we beat the Yankees and it was going to be awesome to be at the game where we clinched going to the World Series again."

The Platts parked where they have several times before: Lot N. It's a $20 lot along Legends Way just north of the stadium, south across Interstate 30 from Hurricane Harbor and almost adjacent to the Little League field. It's well-lit, usually packed for Rangers and Cowboys games and about a 7-minute walk to see baseball.

The night is perfect. The Rangers erupt for a record nine runs in the 3rd inning en route to a 15-5 victory. In their second-deck seats behind home plate, the Platts party. And celebrate. And party some more. They watch the final out. The fireworks. The celebratory spraying of Ginger Ale. The on-field trophy presentation. They don't want to leave.

"We just soaked it all in," says Frank. "We didn't leave our seats until they turned the lights off."

The festive mood spilled into the parking lots. Car horns honked. Children frolicked. Fans of the Rangers high-fived strangers. "Let's go Rangers!" filled the cool, cloudless night. As the Platts set up chairs behind their SUV and digested the scene in an attempt to let traffic unsnarl, a family near them even extended an invite to play Ladder Toss.

"Everyone was so happy," says Kacy. "The Rangers were going back to the World Series. It was great."

And then the dog showed up.

It was a blonde Pit Bull, led on a leash with one of those spiked collars that digs into the animal's neck when pulled for discipline or, perhaps, the owner's sheer joy of administering pain through power. As four men in their mid-20s strolled through the lot the dog wandered close to the Platt's set-up, prompting Kacy to walk approximately 10 feet to pet it.

"I didn't say anything to anyone," Kacy remembers. "The dog was cute and very friendly. It was a quick pet. No big deal."

Seconds later, as Frank was packing chairs, etc. into the SUV, Kacy heard the dog yelping in obvious pain. The four men – all dark hair, one wearing glasses – were suddenly kicking and cussing the Pit, its owner violently yanking the sharp-tooth leash. Sickened by the scene, Kacy confronted the men.

"I told them to stop being mean to their dog," she says, stopping to wipe away tears that threaten to trickle into her salad. "And they started yelling at me. Called me a whore. A bitch. Told me to shut up. Then they said they wanted to take me home and treat me like a bitch, too. They all just sort of snapped."

Hearing the disturbance, Frank approached to diffuse the situation.

"At first I thought it was Kacy yelling with some Rangers fans," says Frank. But when he arrived the group chastised Frank to "take your bitch home before she gets hurt."

Even in the midst of Rangers revelry, nothing will escalate a situation like having your significant other dog-cussed. Suddenly, 15-5 was a distant memory. Now, it was 2 against 4.

"I'm not going to sit here and lie, of course I was mad. I kind of bowed up," says Frank. "Lots of adrenalin flowing. I was like 'What's your problem, man?' I just couldn't stand there and let them talk to my wife that way."

After Kacy physically restrained Frank and grudgingly led him back toward their vehicle, a beer can whizzed past the couple. By the time they turned around, the four men had run up and encircled them.

"At that point I'm like 'What are we doing here?','' says Frank. "I told them 'Go Rangers, right?'''

According to the Arlington Police Department report, the attack occurred at approximately 12:30 a.m. It was short, swift and severe. Frank – despite standing 6-foot-5 and weighing 230 pounds –  was sucker-punched in the right side of his face by … something. It neither broke the skin nor left a bruise, but it did knock him out. The impact shattered his jaw, misaligned his face and dropped him limp to the ground. On the way down his right leg crumbled awkwardly, breaking his fibula and shredding ankle ligaments.

"I thought my husband was dead," says Kacy, trembling through the recollection. "He was laying there. Not moving. And blood was just … everywhere."

The gang of men tossed a Styrofoam cup of liquor at Kacy as they ran toward I-30 and into the night, so far unidentified. Arlington Police spokesperson Tiara Ellis Richard says detectives are still working the case, but have no leads. The security camera images from the night provide nothing more than four grainy shadows fleeing the assault.

The entire incident – from pet to punch – lasts about five minutes.

"I don't think they'll be caught at this point. We've given up hope of that," says Frank. "I just hope the Rangers take steps and improve security so it doesn't happen to someone else. More cameras. More security. Whatever. It's a playoff game. Should be a great time. But you've got troublemakers just roaming around looking for people to pick on. That should've been one of the best nights of my life and it turned into one of the worst. And for what?"

As Kacy and nearby fans helped awaken Frank it was clear he was seriously injured. He couldn't bite down because his jaw was so out of whack. Sheet by sheet, an entire roll of paper towels were stuffed into his mouth to stop the bleeding, to no avail. He couldn't walk. A Rangers' security guard finally arrived. And shortly thereafter, an ambulance from a 911 call.

"I don't remember much," Frank says. "Just that it felt like all of my teeth had been knocked out. And I couldn't walk."

As Frank was whisked away to John Peter Smith hospital in Fort Worth, Kacy jumped in the SUV to follow and … dead battery. By the time the security guard fetched a jump box and got her on her way she was alone, lost and frantic.

"I was a complete mess," she says. "The whole thing is a nightmare."

In the hospital for a week, Frank underwent two surgeries, one on Oct. 18 that inserted two plates in either side of his jaw to stabilize the open fractures. And another on Oct. 28 to place a plate into his lower leg. He still has no feeling in his chin. He got out of cast and into a boot last week but will be on crutches another six weeks, forcing Kacy to drive him to and from work every day.

Other than the permanent plates that will make airport security even more interesting, the physical effects should eventually heal. But the attack left behind psychological scars. And, yes, financial damage.
Because she missed so much time to be with her healing husband, Kacy was fired from her job. Frank, despite being at his company for four years, was forced to use his two weeks of vacation while bed-ridden. And the bills? This is almost the worst part of the story. Because full insurance at his small company was costing the couple $700 a month, Frank recently canceled it. During a search for affordable self-insurance … you guessed it.

The ambulance ride alone is $1,400. The leg surgery? Try $20,000. Bills for the jaw surgery and the hospital are yet to arrive.

"The hospital said we could set up a payment plan," says Frank. "But we'll be paying for that night the rest of our lives."

There could be some semblance of a Happy Thanksgiving after all, thanks to the Texas Rangers.

When contacted about this column Monday, Rangers spokesman John Blake said the team had no official comment on the incident. Later that day, however, representatives from the organization called the Platts to set up a meeting. And on Wednesday the Rangers offered to pay all of the family's medical bills.

"To say the least it's a nice gesture," Kacy said Wednesday night.

Some of us think the Platts should also be offered season tickets and nice, safe, cozy parking spot in the Rangers' coveted Lexus valet right next to the ballpark gates.

In this sudden era of fan violence/injuries at sporting events, you can't take too many precautions. Each of the last two seasons a fan has fallen from his seat inside Rangers Ballpark, including the tragic death last July of Brownwood firefighter Shannon Stone. A fan used a Taser another at the Cowboys' season-opener against the Jets in New York last September and in separate incidents this year fans have been shot, stabbed and beaten into a coma at games in California stadiums.

While the Rangers deal with their World Series collapse, a rat that taped and released manager Ron Washington's Game 7 clubhouse speech and the possibility of losing No. 1 pitcher C.J. Wilson in free agency, it's refreshing to see them do their part to make the best of a horrible situation involving two of their biggest fans.

The measures, tickets and parking be damned, can't camouflage the lingering mental anguish.

"The other night an event triggered some memories and it all came back on me," says Frank. "I just started crying out of nowhere."

Pressed for details of the "event", Frank admitted it was something as simple as a scene in Grey's Anatomy.

Couple days later Kacy was cleaning out a closet when she came across the blood-soaked sandals her husband was wearing the night of the attack.

"We both just sat there and broke down," she said.

Frank admits he got the good end of the deal. His physical injuries will mostly mend. But Kacy having to witness the incident injected images that may never fully relinquish their chilling grip on her psyche.

"I don't trust strangers, no way," Kacy says. "I'll see a person walking on campus at UNT and stop and think it was one of the four guys. I've got to hold it together, but I'm having a really tough time. I haven't had a full night's sleep since the attack. Sometimes I close my eyes and the whole thing starts playing out again. Over and over. Like it's haunting me. Something was taken from me that night that I may never get back … and that's my peace of mind."

A kid who attended games at old Arlington Stadium cheering favorite players Nolan Ryan and Rafael Palmeiro, Frank promises to remain a Rangers fan. Though, for now, he can't envision attending another game.

"I try to separate the team from the event," he says. "But that's easier said than done."

His body in splinters, Frank was on the edge of his seat near the dramatic conclusion of World Series Game 6. First Neftali Feliz in the 9th and then Scott Feldman in the 10th, each one strike away from delivering the first Rangers' championship in 40 seasons. Plate of spaghetti in his lap and Facebook congratulations at the ready, Platt flatlined with the rest of us as the Cardinals improbably rallied. The next day Frank underwent his leg surgery and was in and out of coherence during Texas' Game 7 loss.

"Absolutely killed me," he says. "I don't know what hurt worse: My injuries or being so close to winning the World Series and then losing. Both of them will stick with me forever."

The sun did rise after Frank Platt was attacked at a Rangers game. But the clouds have yet to fully clear.