This Defeat Is Victory for Ojeda : Baseball: In his first start since boating tragedy, he works five innings of Indians’ 4-1 loss to the Blue Jays.

Monday night, at about 7, Sister Mary Assumpta turned on the television located in the recreation room of the Mother House. She wanted to watch a baseball game. She wanted to watch Bob Ojeda.

A lifelong Cleveland Indian fan, Sister Mary Assumpta has never met Ojeda. She knew Ojeda’s teammate Steve Olin. Knew she could count on Olin to attend the annual charity bowl-a-thon, which benefited her Catholic-run nursing home. Knew that when the nuns had their summer picnic, Olin’s wife, Patti, and the kids would be there.

When Olin, along with Indian pitcher Tim Crews, was involved in a March 22 boating tragedy, Sister Mary Assumpta sent flowers to the players’ families. She attended a prayer service at St. John’s Cathedral downtown. She was half-tempted to do what other Indian fans had done--place a flower at the base of dilapidated Municipal Stadium, the 61-year-old home of the team.

Now, five months later, she and the rest of the nuns at the Mother House rooted for the lone survivor. They rooted for Ojeda. All of Cleveland did.

Ojeda was in Crews’ boat when it slammed into the pier on Little Lake Nellie that spring evening in Clermont, Fla. Olin died instantly. Crews died the next morning. Ojeda, his skull torn open, somehow lived.

So to speak.

He considered suicide. He fled to Sweden. He underwent psychiatric treatment. Somehow he found himself reluctantly pulled back to baseball.

At times, said Indian Manager Mike Hargrove, Ojeda’s appearances in the clubhouse brought only awkward moments. And pain.

“In spring training, when Bobby came to talk to the ballclub, I said, ‘I hate to say it, but it will not surprise me if Bobby never pitches another baseball game.’ You could just look in his eyes. There was nothing there. Just flat black. Nothing. There was nothing in there.”

There is now. Not much, but at least a glimmer.

Hargrove saw it Monday night. So did the 25,546 who attended Ojeda’s first start of the season. There on a pitching mound they saw a man battle what he later called “the nightmare that we’re living.”

Seated in Section 23, Row 6, Seats 6, 7 and 8, were Patti Olin, Ojeda’s wife Ellen and Dodger pitcher Roger McDowell. They were there to witness the healing, the mental rehabilitation.

McDowell, who came to Cleveland as the Dodgers made their way to Atlanta, has been with Ojeda from the start. When he first heard the news of the accident, McDowell drove, Ojeda said, “120 miles an hour” from the Dodger camp at Vero Beach to Clermont.

Later, in mid-July, it was McDowell who knocked on Ojeda’s door and persuaded him not to give up the fight. Had he not shown up, Ojeda was set to take a flight that day, destination unknown.

“Without Rog, I wouldn’t be here,” Ojeda said. “He knew I was gone. I was ready to chuck everything and just head on down the road. Just run away from it all. It’s a lot easier to walk out than walk out here and deal with this publicly.”

Ojeda arrived at the ballpark a little after 3 p.m. Monday. He wore black jeans, black boots, a black T-shirt. When he entered the Indian clubhouse, Ojeda walked quickly past the framed newspaper ad purchased by the Indian front office after the accident. It reads: “We’ll get through this because of who we are.”

After changing into a pair of shorts, Ojeda walked to the team mailbox, collected a handful of letters, dodged the dripping air duct and returned to his seat in front of his locker. He read each one, slowly, carefully.

Across the clubhouse, outfielder Kenny Lofton grabbed his glove for fielding practice. He didn’t want to talk much about Ojeda.

“All I’m saying is, he pitched in Baltimore for the first time and I was relieved when he got on the mound,” Lofton said. “Once he got on the mound pitching, that’s all I cared about. It just goes on.”

Ojeda pitched two innings of relief against the Orioles Aug. 7. He gave up four hits and two runs, one earned. Four days later, he pitched against the Milwaukee Brewers, again in relief. He lasted three innings, gave up three hits and one run.

Monday night would be different. It would be in front of the home crowd. In front of friends and family. Even the opponents for the series, the Toronto Blue Jays, understood the significance.

“I personally couldn’t imagine going through the ordeal he’s gone through,” Blue Jay pitcher Dave Stewart said.

Added Toronto designated-hitter Paul Molitor: “To see him come back to the game . . . I hope he can still get some joy out of the gifts that he has. He’s just a guy who all of baseball has wanted to reach out to.”

Ojeda walked up the dugout steps and onto the field at 6:42. As fans recognized his jersey number, the applause began to sweep through the stadium. At first, Ojeda stared forward and continued his slow walk toward the bullpen for his pregame warmup. Unable to ignore the cheers any longer, he gave an embarrassed wave of the left hand. It didn’t work. They cheered louder. One fan near the right-field corner videotaped the entire scene.

At 7:03, Ojeda made his way to the mound. More applause. Again he waved, once to the third base side, once to the first base side.

Inside the Indian dugout, Hargrove tried to quiet his emotions. As if it mattered.

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I had a lump in my throat as he walked out there,” Hargrove said later.

In Section 23, Row 6, there were tears everywhere. Patti Olin and Ellen Ojeda hugged each other and dabbed uselessly at their eyes. McDowell simply stood and clapped.

The first inning did not go well. Ojeda gave up a single to leadoff hitter Devon White. Roberto Alomar then homered. Up stepped Molitor. He homered, too. Compassion only goes so far when you are in a pennant race.

Hargrove wasted little time. He called down to the bullpen and instructed reliever Jeff Mutis to warm up.

“It was pretty close,” Hargrove said. “Three runs down and no outs . . . pretty close.”

Ojeda got Joe Carter to fly to right for the first out. John Olerud hit an easy grounder to first for the second out. Tony Fernandez flied to center for the third. Ojeda had survived.

He would last five innings in all. Five innings, seven hits, three runs, all earned, no walks, one strikeout in 86 pitches. In today’s box score it will read that he was the loser in the Blue Jays’ 4-1 victory, but no one at Municipal Stadium on Monday night believes that.

“A million, million different thoughts,” is how Ellen Ojeda described the sight of her husband starting a game. “I’m excited, relieved . . . very relieved that this day had finally come. I’m extremely proud of him. It was really a long road. But he did it.”

Sitting in the dugout after the game, his 2-year-old daughter Katherine on his knee, Ojeda looked like someone who doesn’t have to close his eyes to remember the moment the nightmare began. He said he was glad the game was over. He said he felt as if he were “repaying a debt” to those who had supported him throughout the ordeal.

Ojeda has six weeks left in his season. After that he will decide what to do next. Retire? Return? And when will the demons leave him alone?

“The thoughts of ‘Crewser’ and ‘Oli’ are on my mind all the time,” he said, “and they’re going to be. But at the same time I’ve got a job I’ve got to do for the guys and for myself.”

Ojeda did all that and more Monday evening. He survived.