Cancer Strikes Out, 4-3 : Dravecky Beats Reds in Return From Surgery

If it was not a miracle, it certainly felt like one.

When pitcher Dave Dravecky of the San Francisco Giants began warming up Thursday for his first major league game since he was diagnosed as having cancer nearly a year ago, the 34,810 fans at Candlestick Park stood and cheered.

Dravecky stared at the catcher’s mitt through tears.

When he took the mound 15 minutes later, there was another standing ovation.

Dravecky cried again.

Two hours and 10 standing ovations later, after Dravecky had defeated the Cincinnati Reds, 4-3, he was grabbed by Will Clark. The Giant first baseman squeezed him and struggled to find the right words.

“After all he has been through, I didn’t know what to say, I couldn’t give him enough,” Clark said. “So I just grabbed him and told him, ‘Welcome back, man.’ I hope he knows how I feel.”

It might not have been a miracle, but nobody here will believe otherwise.

After losing half of a major muscle--one instrumental in pitching--during surgery last October to remove a cancerous tumor, Dravecky completed a 10-month rehabilitation effort Thursday by holding the Reds to three runs on four hits in eight innings. He struck out five and walked one.

Through seven innings, he had given up one hit. The only runs he gave up came on an eighth-inning, three-run homer by Luis Quinones.

Lacking only a little speed on his fastball, Dravecky was in control of everything else. He threw 92 pitches, 58 strikes and 34 balls. He went to a three-ball count on only four hitters.

But his impact was far more widespread.

He caused fans to scream, caused wife Jan to weep behind home plate, and even caused Manager Roger Craig to forget about managing.

“I was sitting there watching him, in awe,” Craig said. “I was the biggest fan in the stands. And I’m trying to manage the game.

“I’ve seen a lot of things. I’ve been in five World Series and seen Don Larsen’s perfect game . . . and this is my biggest thrill. I’ve never been involved in something like this.”

In an emotional postgame press conference, Dravecky answered one question and then waved his hand.

“Before we go on, I want to say, give all the praise to Jesus Christ,” he said. “Without Him, there is no story.”

He continued, “I hope everything I shared today gives hope to everyone who has had cancer. I hope it gives them reason to fight. After all I’ve been through, today was the easiest thing I’ve done in the last 10 months.”

Said catcher Terry Kennedy:

“It was like he had not missed a beat since I caught him in San Diego a couple of years ago. It was like I had just caught him four days ago.”

Dravecky laughed. “Yeah, and after the game, Kennedy also said that I wouldn’t have to worry about stiffness tomorrow because I only have half a muscle,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

Last weekend, when Thursday’s start was announced, Dravecky was too worried to joke. He had completed three successful minor league rehabilitation starts, but he felt they had not proved anything.

He felt that the baseball world, including his teammates, still only remembered the Dravecky who couldn’t move his arm for a month after his eight-hour operation, which took so long it caused a blood clot in a leg. Another operation was required for the removal of the clot.

The cancer was not life-threatening, but doctors said it was career-ending. They told him he would be fortunate to play catch with his children.

Before Thursday, although he had thrown a two-hitter for the Giants against St. Louis in the 1987 playoffs, and was their opening day starter in 1988, he had not pitched in a major league game in 14 1/2 months. In his last appearance, he threw five shutout innings against Philadelphia, May 28, 1988.

“This was a guy who came in here this spring and could not even pick up a ball,” Clark said. “No way I thought he would be back this season.”

Said Dravecky: “I struggled with the thought of facing major league hitters. It was mentally tough. But then I realized, getting to this point, which most people thought was not possible, that was the miracle. Anything else was icing on the cake.”

So he slept late Thursday morning, awaking 30 minutes before he was to pick up teammate Scott Garrelts. On the drive to the ballpark, Dravecky turned up the car stereo and loudly sang along to the tune of a Christian rock song, “Give Thanks With a Grateful Heart.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Garrelts said. “He couldn’t have heard me anyway.”

His teammates purposely downplayed the event until shortly before the game, when they saw Dravecky crying.

“I had never seen him cry. It was something,” said Matt Williams, whose two-run homer gave Dravecky a 4-0 lead he never lost. “It kind of gave us inspiration.”

Dravecky said: “Coming out for that first inning, it was a rush. That’s the only way to describe it.”

But by the time he faced the Reds’ first batter, Quinones, Dravecky had wiped his eyes and was ready.

“I wasn’t nervous at all,” he said. “I was so calm it was scary. I was very relaxed and very surprised. I just locked in with Kennedy. It was just him and me.”

Behind home plate, amid the standing ovations and memories, sat Jan. For her, it wasn’t so easy to get locked in.

“I cried this morning, I cried when he got on the mound, I cried when they put up that big ‘Welcome Back Dave’ sign on the scoreboard,” she said. “And then I had a flashback. I remembered when Dave first walked into our church after the operation, he was walking with a cane and his arm was bandaged up and he was in great pain.

“He stood there and thanked everyone in the congregation. His voice cracked. He had to stop. For some reason, I remembered that.”

For pitching coach Norm Sherry, the memories were different. “One fastball reached 88 m.p.h., and that used to be his average speed,” he said. “But most of them were around 86 or 87, so it didn’t matter. He looked like the same Dravecky to me, doing the same things.”

When relief pitcher Steve Bedrosian took the mound in the ninth inning, signifying the end of Dravecky’s work, the crowd stood and cheered. And cheered. And did not stop cheering until Dravecky had appeared from the dugout twice, each time pumping his left arm into the air. “I wasn’t surprised by the cheering, no,” Dravecky said. “Nothing surprised me anymore.”

Red outfielder Joel Youngblood, a former teammate of Dravecky, offered these words of caution:

“I know that Dave, in his heart, knows that this is not the only game he has to get through. He’s got other games, and nobody in this league is going to roll over and say, ‘OK, this is your year.’ ”

But Thursday was certainly his day.