Fernando’s Left Arm Is the Dodgers’ Most Cherished Possession

After Fernando Valenzuela threw his second two-hit shutout in five days Saturday night, he returned to the Dodger clubhouse with his left arm padded so thickly by elastic bandages, it looked like Popeye’s. His upper torso was practically mummified, in order to harness the ice on his elbow and shoulder, and there was a tiny timer--it resembled a pocket calculator--attached to the bandage where it stretched across his heart, giving him the look of a robot that had just been programmed to go out and win.

“I have to be careful of, of . . . “

He was trying to think of the word, just as Tom Lasorda passed by. In Spanish, Valenzuela asked the manager for a quick translation.

“Inflammation,” Lasorda said.

“Yes, inflammation,” Valenzuela repeated.

For 15 minutes, no more, no less, he must wear the holster of ice. Then leave the arm alone for a day or two. “Then try to work hard for one or two days,” Valenzuela said. “Whatever time I have.”

It is an arm that should be pampered and polished and protected, like expensive crystal. A lot of prayers ride on that wing. A lot of Dodger worshipers’ pennant hopes, perhaps. They already have lost San Pedro. They cannot afford to lose San Fernando.

The only question is, how much can that arm take? Is it made of flesh and blood? Does it suffer aches and pains like everyone else’s? Will the hinge ever rust or the rotator cuff unlink? Should it be oiled, or massaged, or held together with Krazy Glue, or what?

Will Fernando Valenzuela ever miss a turn?

The guy just keeps going out there pitching, pitching, pitching. One night they left him out there so long he threw 163 pitches. Relief pitchers put up hammocks in the bullpen when he works. In his last six starts, Valenzuela has gone nine innings against Pittsburgh, nine against St. Louis, eight against Montreal, eight against St. Louis, nine against Montreal and nine against Philadelphia.

Dwight who?

Last Tuesday, Valenzuela took a perfect game into the seventh inning against the Expos. He settled for a two-hit shutout. On Saturday night, he two-hit the Phillies, giving Von Hayes a long double and an infield single. He struck out 11. On three days’ rest.

John Felske, the manager of the Phillies, felt it was as though Dodger catcher Mike Scioscia could place his mitt anywhere he chose and Valenzuela would hit it. If Scioscia for some reason had flung his glove into the sky, Valenzuela probably would have thrown the baseball and hit it, like a skeet shooter.

“The last two games were almost the same,” Valenzuela said. “I have had very good control--I don’t know why--and my arm feels very strong.”

Lasorda, afterward, was his usual shy, reticent, uncomplimentary self. It is difficult to be around a manager who has nothing to say about his players, or at least nothing flattering.

“The last time there were two games pitched like that was Johnny Vander Meer when he pitched back-to-back, no-hit, no-run games against Brooklyn!” Lasorda said.

Actually, the first no-hitter was against the Boston Braves but when Lasorda’s on a roll, why stop him?

“Fernando! Every time he goes out there, you see the tremendous ability he has! The tremendous poise he displays! The tremendous heart he has! And I want to say to all of your readers, I want to thank Mexico, the country, a beautiful country, our neighbor to the south, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing us and giving us Fernando Valenzuela!”

Such a sad, cynical man, impossible to please.

Valenzuela has seven victories--Bob Knepper of the Astros is the only National Leaguer with eight--and he is winning with a team that isn’t hitting very well and isn’t fielding worth a hill of frijoles.

The Dodgers lead the majors in errors. Their hitting, without Pedro Guerrero, has been spotty at best. Mike Marshall has 35 runs batted in, but Greg Brock, Bill Madlock and Scioscia combined have only 36. Brock, in 122 at-bats, has one double, no triples. The whole team has two triples in 44 games.

Mariano Duncan, the regular leadoff man, has seen his average drop to .190. Lasorda has stood screaming at him near the batting cage--”Hit on top the ball!” “Sobre la pelota!” --but Duncan continues to loft shallow flies and pop-ups. Sunday, Lasorda moved Steve Sax to the top of the order and had Duncan batting eighth.

Through it all, Valenzuela just keeps throwing. Throwing and winning. A Dwight Gooden comes along, or a Roger Clemens, a John Tudor, a Bret Saberhagen, a Joaquin Andujar, a Jack Morris, a Mike Boddicker, a LaMarr Hoyt, and “Fernandomania” is long forgotten. But he is not just getting older. He is getting better.

The Dodgers had just better be careful with him. The arm gets 15 minutes on ice. Not 10. He gets at least three days off between starts. Not two. He can work 9 or 10 innings. Not 15 or 20. He can throw 163 pitches in a game. Not 263.

We think.