Mutka: Knee-dy athletes often turn to Gary native Shelbourne

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Updated: August 4, 2011 4:20PM

When Dr. Donald Shelbourne attended Wabash College in the 1970s, torn ACLs were career killers for athletes like hall of famers Gale Sayers and Dick Butkus. Now, they’re temporary setbacks because of surgical pioneers like him.

Shelbourne, a two-sport athlete at the all-male school, ended his athletic career with a knee injury in his senior year. Ironically, it inspired a career move that has prolonged the athletic life of many grateful warriors over the last three decades.

“My surgery had a bad result,” Shelbourne recalled, “so I started checking into it, doing research on athletic injuries.”

Eventually, the Gary native shifted from a chemistry major into a nationally known orthopaedic surgeon with guidance from Dr. Tom Brady, an Emerson alum who started a sports medical clinic in Indianapolis. Their region background created an instant connection and they quickly bonded.

“Dr. Brady developed a reputation for being the go-to-guy for sports injuries,” said Shelbourne, who grew up in Glen Park. “He became my mentor.”

During Shelbourne’s time in medical school, he also tuned in for a year with Dr. Bill Clancy, another surgical pioneer, at the University of Wisconsin. Yet another mentor, they clicked.

Eventually, Brady turned his practice over to Shelbourne in 1982. Two years later, the 33-year-old surgeon was caring for Purdue athletes as well as the Indianapolis Colts.

It was a spectacular rise for the former Lew Wallace lineman, who shares modest roots with his brother, Dave, a former Northwestern quarterback who coached at Highland from 1976-87, then migrated to the Indianapolis area.

Highland still treasures Dave’s 1987 team, which bowed to perennial power Ben Davis 14-7 in the Class 5A state final. He retired after coaching at Avon, but Don still repairs ACLs at Purdue.

Their father, Cliff Shelbourne, worked as the head custodian at Pittman Square School in Gary.

Since 1982, Don has performed an estimated 15,000 surgeries, eventually narrowing his focus to specialize in ACLs. Surgery takes an hour for the man with a plan for knee-dy athletes.

“That’s all I do,” said the Indianapolis-based surgeon, who estimates he has repaired 6,000 ACLs, many of them belonging to Northwest Indiana athletes. 

Shelbourne also has published more than 100 journal articles on his specialty. 

Originally, athletes needed a year to 18 months to bounce back from surgery. Aggressive rehabbing has reduced the recovery period to six months.

Fringe benefits from his long-term connection with Purdue included watching his son, John, earn three letters during the Drew Brees aerial era.

They shared similar growth patterns. John grew from a 6-5, 180-pound athlete at Indianapolis Cathedral into a 6-6, 270-pound long snapper in college. His dad, only 17 when he enrolled at Wabash, evolved from a 6-foot, 240-pound center at Wallace into a 6-4, 270-pound defensive tackle.

“Purdue went to five straight bowls during that (stretch),” said Shelbourne, who gave up his position with the Colts in 1998 to enjoy his family. “My kids were growing up, and I wanted to spend more time with them.”

Over the past few years, Shelbourne split his time between Purdue and watching his youngest son, Brian, develop into an all-conference point guard at Wabash.

NFL headache — Concussions continue to be a hot-button issue for the National Football League, but Shelbourne points out some of the complexities dealing with them.

“I think they (concussions) have been traditionally undertreated,” he said, but acknowledged how difficult it was to keep concussed athletes off the field when sports medicine was in its infancy.

Coaches didn’t understand the long-term consequences of repeated head-knocking or how dangerous it was to withhold water from players practicing in hot weather.

Football players resisted being taken out, embracing a macho code that aggravated head trauma. Later, improved helmets created an aura of invincibility, and tackling techniques changed, shifting the emphasis from shoulders to head-hunting weapons.

Belatedly, afflicted athletes are turning to the courts for compensation. Meanwhile, who can blame current pro athletes for being suspicious, figuring the first allegiance of team doctors is to the owners?

“It’s a matter of trust,” said Shelbourne, who describes it as a “dilemma.”

Seeking legal compensation for traumatic head injuries also contributes to skyrocketing medical costs. Escalating malpractice insurance often means higher medical fees.

Easy solutions? There aren’t any.

Long term, losers are the consumer and the athlete.