Randy Johnson, we are fairly certain, is about to bust a bone. Which of his two hundred and six, or when, we cant exactly say, but the forseen "bad break" will render his trumpeted acquisition a disappointment, and perhaps ultimately, a failure.

Johnson’s considerable skills, diminishing rapidly off an abnormal, awkward physical baseline, coupled with a sudden increase in game-specific injury opportunities, make him a perfect storm of risk factors pursuant to breaking a bone.

Diminishing skills?  It’s clear that batters are hitting Johnson harder – and more often. Within a surprisingly similar run environment (NYY v AZ), he’s yielding 25-30% more homers per inning than in his halcyon desert days, and striking out fewer men, generating many more batted balls in play. Another concern is his reflexes. We cant prove that Unit’s reflexes, specifically, are shot, but the general evidence that reflexive response deteriorates with age is sufficient to bear mention here – and that quickness – unlike, say, flexibility – isn’t recaptured easily, if at all.

Abnormal physical baseline?  Randy’s a geek – a subject usually broached as a positive – as in, wow, look at the leverage that albatross generates, the sick arm angle, etc.  There’s also perilous downsides to his height. An inept fielder throughout his career, Johnson falls off the mound on his follow through so that His Gangliness isn’t well protected. It takes a long, long time for such a Unit to position a protective mitt down, down, all the way down to the lower regions of his unusually long legs. As it is, his height leaves Randy as close to home plate, post delivery, as any pitcher in baseball.

Sudden increase in injury opportunities? Well, we’ve laid groundwork for the most obvious opportunity: career ending comebackers to the mound. Count on more shots up the middle off Johnson’s eroding fastball, and indeed off the hapless Johnson himself and his seven foot tall bag of bones. A taller, less graceful Ricochet Rabbit. Ping! Ping! Ping! Bear in mind that Johnson is also returning to a league full of hitters experienced with his best stuff itching to even old scores. There will be no transitional honeymoon like there was in the AL.

His projected increase in At Bats (and related baserunning) in the National League present alarming opportunities for injury. In two years in New York, Johnson hit one single. That’s it. No walks, no runs. Just one single in two years! Expect 50 to 75 At Bats in the NL, with perhaps a dozen heartstopping giraffe-like forays around the baserunning veldt. These comic ventures wont likely be bone breaking, per se, as much as back straining, muscle pulling or knee wrenching, further compromising Randy’s season.

The bum knee isnt broken, thank goodness. It’s just..well, bum and will continue to fuel this perfect storm.  Forty three year old knees maintaining, much less improving, when subjected to repetitive high stress impact is simply a non starter. 

Speaking of non-starters, there’s the dreary prospect that, despite "successful" back surgery and Johnson’s claim that he feels great, Randy wont be fit to pitch in April.  And saying he feels great simply doesnt make it so – what’s he supposed to say after pocketing almost $30M – "Thanks alot! BTW, my back is killing me" ? No, the suspect "repair" of his herniated disc, as far as we can tell, primarily represents an opportunity to break, or in this case "re-break", an additional bone.

At the top, we said we didnt know which bone is history, and that remains so, however we’ve ruled out the stirrups, anvils and hammers and dont see a fractured femur in Johnson’s foreseeable future. His ribs should be fine, too – that’s a bunch of bones right there, out of harm’s way. But the knees, the hands, the ankles and the feets genuinely have us worried. Screaming comebacker written all over every one of those intricate bone sets. We were there watching helplessly when rubber armed fixture Mike Morgan writhed on the mound like a wounded animal after getting konked on the kneecap with a comebacker, back in 2002. His last year in baseball.

Of course, Mike was only 42 at the time.