Galarraga Returns Better Than Ever

Andres Galarraga dangles his left foot, the one that says “Big” on the heel of his shoe, near the outer edge of the batter’s box. He leans back on his right foot, adorned with the word “Cat,” completing the nickname.

As the ball approaches, his eyes narrow, his left foot moves into a more conventional batting stance and the bat flies across the plate with speed and fury.

In a split-second, the ball is sent hurtling toward the left-field stands at Turner Field. Galarraga leans forward, revealing a sneaky grin as the ball disappears into the first row.

“Still got it,” he says, having a little fun during batting practice with the Atlanta Braves.

A man who turns 39 in June--especially one who missed an entire year ridding his body of cancer--isn’t supposed to be doing this. This is a young man’s game, one where timing and repetition are everything.

But here he is, wreaking havoc on opposing pitchers as if he never left. During a three-game sweep of the Philadelphia Phillies, Galarraga went 3 for 3 with two RBIs one night, followed 24 hours later by a two-homer, four-RBI performance.

They weren’t cheap shots, either. The first homer landed more than 420 feet away in the left-center stands; the second struck no more than two or three feet below the towering, yellow foul pole that guards the left-field line. Good thing, too, or the balls might still be going.

Take that, cancer.

“I wished he’d missed a year and three days,” Phillies manager Terry Francona said. “Boy, he sure looks good. He looks healthy. He looks strong.”

Galarraga’s salt-and-pepper hair is leaning more to the salt side these days. He’s the oldest player to start regularly for the Braves since Hank Aaron in the early 1970s. But retirement is not even an option. There’s so much more work to do.

“I’m going to play forever,” Galarraga said wistfully. “Really, I don’t even think about how long I’m going to play. Right now, I’m feeling good. I still feel like I can play.”

He’s not just hanging on, either.

Two and half weeks into his comeback season, Galarraga was tied for the NL lead with six homers and paced the Braves with a .353 average and 17 RBIs. His first three homers included a grand slam and each one gave Atlanta a lead in the fifth inning or later.

Defensively, the lightning-quick reflexes that gave him his nickname seem as good as ever. He’s leaping for live drives, diving to knock down ground balls.

“I don’t know how he’s doing it,” said Braves batting coach Merv Rettenmund. “A lot of it has to do with heart, I’m sure.”

A year ago, Galarraga was still in the early stages of a six-month process--chemotherapy followed by radiation--to destroy the cancerous tumor in his back.

He was more concerned with surviving than he was with returning to baseball. He was more focused on watching his three young daughters grow into women than he was with trying to hit a nasty split-finger fastball.

After conquering the disease, Galarraga decided to reclaim his career. But no one knew how his body would react. The Braves, hopeful but not taking any chances, insisted that Wally Joyner be included in a trade with San Diego, an insurance policy in case the Big Cat was done.

Well, Joyner batted just nine times in the Braves’ first 15 games, mostly as a pinch-hitter. Galarraga? He started every game but one, looking every bit like the guy who averaged .314, 36 homers and 117 RBIs in the six years before cancer interrupted his career.

“If anybody could do it, it’s him,” teammate Chipper Jones said. “But for him to experience this kind of success so early is really surprising. I figured it would take some time for him to settle back in. But he came out ready to go.”

Jones missed an entire season after wrecking a knee, but he was only 22 at the time.

“It’s amazing,” Jones said. “But he didn’t sit idly by, waiting to come back. He worked his tail off to give himself every opportunity to succeed once he came back.”

Galarraga constantly watched videotapes of his pre-cancer days, practicing his swing in a mirror and guarding vigilantly against signs of change. As soon as he got clearance from doctors, he resumed an already demanding workout program with renewed vigor, as if a few more muscles might ensure the cancer never returns.

“I feel stronger than I did before,” Galarraga said. “I really do.”

Still, while standing next to the batting cage, Rettenmund was baffled that a man of Galarraga’s age could sit out a year and pick up where he left off. The batting coach remembers the case of Curt Flood, one of baseball’s best players when he missed the 1970 season in a futile court fight to gain free agency.

When Flood returned in 1971, he played only 13 games. His career was over at 33.

“Curt Flood missed a year and lost everything,” Rettenmund recalled. “He was helpless out there.”

Not so with Galarraga, who is spreading a message of hope and courage to cancer patients everywhere.

“Believe in what the medicine is doing. Believe in God. Put that together, along with all the people praying for me, that’s why I’m here today,” he said.

“I’ll never get tired of saying that.”