Give Fernando’s Arm Time Off Or It’ll Fall Off

Quick, somebody grab a bullhorn and save the Dodgers from themselves.

“Attention, Dodgers! This is your conscience speaking. We know you’re in there. We’ve got you surrounded, don’t try to make a break.

“We know you’re holding the kid, Fernando. We know you’re planning to pitch him every fifth day, unless his arm falls off, in which case he’ll pitch only every sixth day. Listen, Dodgers, this lad needs medical attention! We know you’re desperate, but you haven’t committed a crime yet. Throw Fernando out, we’ll leave you alone, and no one will get hurt.

“We’ll even get you help, we swear. We have here a list of several over-35 pitchers who your general manager would snap up in a minute. Now send Fernando out or we’ll start lobbing canisters of common sense into your front office.”

It shouldn’t have to come to this, and maybe it won’t. Maybe the Dodgers will quietly slip Fernando Valenzuela out of the pitching rotation before his next scheduled start, Thursday at Montreal.

More likely, though, Fernando will be out there Thursday chucking the old pill, keeping alive his own amazing streak, as well as the Dodgers’ hopes in their make-believe pennant race.

This would be too bad, because there are indications that Fernando’s arm is worn down and badly in need of rest. And when a pitcher’s arm gets overworked, you know what happens. If you don’t know what happens, go buy yourself a two-dollar alarm clock, wind it up tight as you can, then give the stem a couple more good cranks with a pair of pliers. Please wear safety goggles.

Things break. Snap, crackle, pop and twang. In an arm, ligaments, tendons and cuffs break. Sometimes the broken things can be fixed. Sometimes, all the kings men. . . .

Now in his seventh big-league season, Fernando is a freak of nature. He has never missed a start. Two hundred and twenty-five starts without quietly requesting a day off. He is a natural phenomenon, baffling hitters year after year without resorting to tricks like emery boards and fastballs.

But there are reports from behind the Dodger barricades that Fernando has confided that his arm is hurting. His recent record and speed-gun readings tend to back up these rumors.

The Dodgers appear not to notice. Maybe this is because they are in a pennant race and desperately need their ace. What pennant race? Glad you asked.

Dodger General Manager Fred Claire, referring to another personnel move, told L.A. Herald Examiner sportswriter Ken Gurnick Thursday, “We have a chance to win the race we’re in and we have to think in those terms.”

This has been the team’s tenor the last week or two. They’re in the race, fans.

I checked the track-and-field entries at the Pan Am Games and the Dodgers aren’t listed, so I assume Claire is referring to the race in the National League West.

Check the standings and you’ll see the Dodgers are nine games out with 45 games to play. Mathematically in contention, sure, but let’s talk realism. The Dodgers are in fourth place. They need for three teams to choke and die, very soon.

The Dodgers are 13 games under .500. The Dodgers are 4 1/2 games out of last place. Now there’s a race.

Maybe the Dodger front office and management really believes the team is still in a pennant race. Maybe they believe Alice in Wonderland is a travelogue.

What does this have to do with Fernando?

Well, as long as the Dodgers are in the race, they’ll be reluctant to dismiss Fernando for a turn or two.

Why won’t the Dodgers--the brass, not the players--admit they’re out of the race? Because that kind of attitude wouldn’t sell many tickets, would it? And the Dodgers are in a real ticket-selling slump this year, by their own standards. They have to be at least semi-desperate to keep the feeble flame of flag fever flickering.

First Al Campanis, now this. The Dodgers have had race problems all year long.

With all due respect, they could afford to lose Campanis. He was near retirement anyway and had lost the zip on his fastball. Fernando is 26 and figures to have another five to seven solid seasons left in the incredible arm that has made him the Dodger pitcher of the decade.

Two months ago the Dodgers expressed concern about Fernando to Times baseball writer Ross Newhan. They said they would be closely monitoring Valenzuela in an effort to preserve this valuable resource. His next two outings were solid, nine-inning performances. Since then he has had nine starts. Of those nine, his best by far came right after the All-Star break when he was working with seven days rest, instead of the normal four.

For the other eight starts, each coming after exactly four days rest, he is averaging roughly six innings, eight hits, four walks and four strikeouts.

In other words, Fernando the Extraordinary has become very ordinary.

If he’s hurting, why doesn’t he speak up and ask for a rest?

That’s a stupid question.

According to the Pitcher’s Code, thou shalt not ever reveal a sore arm. It’s an old adage that if pitchers only took the mound when they felt 100% healthy, the major leagues would be forced to convert to tee-ball.

Fernando is a trooper, one of the foremost exponents of the macho code of pitching. He has the heart of a pit bull.

Speaking of bull, it’s time for the Dodgers to admit Fernando can’t carry them to the World Series. Not this year.

Call off your carnival barkers, Dodgers. Stop the pennant race and let the kid off.