He’s Ready to Be King of Jungle Again

He wanted to pump his fist. You just know he wanted to pump his fist.

When the last out was recorded here Monday afternoon, Eric Gagne stomped off the mound and triumphantly raised his right arm and ... wiped his face.

A former Cy Young Award winner celebrating a save in front of a couple of thousand people and a Supercuts billboard while wearing a cap adorned with the face of an alien is, apparently, not so cool.

But while the Dodgers leader stifled a grin, he could not stifle the message.

Rehab Over.

Welcome back to the Jungle.

After saving an 8-6 victory in his second minor-league rehabilitation assignment for the triple-A Las Vegas 51s, Gagne will soon be driving to Los Angeles to save a season.

Hair wild again, goatee mangy again, goggles fogged again, elbow strong, expectations stronger.

“If we don’t win the National League West,” Gagne said, “then we’ve got some serious issues.”

He is scheduled to be activated for Thursday’s game at Dodger Stadium against the Philadelphia Phillies and, goodness, from his conscience to his curveball, was he ever missed.

For the last 353 days, Dodger Stadium has had no wonderful ninth-inning rumble.

No ninth-inning dancing children in bearded shirts. No ninth-inning dipping changeups around flailing bats.

No guns. No roses.

For nearly a year anywhere, Gagne has not had a regular-season save.

For two months, the Dodgers have blown a bunch of them.

Gagne shrugged and said, “I’ll be just another arm down there, some extra help.”

And the life preserver told the thrashing man, “Don’t mind me, I’m just going for a swim.”

The Dodgers may not be drowning now, but without a better bullpen, they will be.

In two months the relievers have blown eight saves, more than all but four other major league teams.

Gagne once didn’t blow a save in nearly two years.

The relievers have a save ratio of 60%.

Gagne’s career save ratio is 96%.

When evaluating the impact of his loss, you do the bath.

“Maybe me coming back, I’ll be able to give them the extra innings that will make a difference in everyone,” he said.

His understatement remains as wicked as his glare.

Not that he will be the same Gagne, of course.

As Sunday’s save against the Angels’ Salt Lake City Bees showed -- and as every scout is whispering -- he will not throw as consistently hard.

He will have to rely more on his off-speed stuff. He will have to rely more on his smarts.

He is two years removed from his record 84-game streak for consecutive saves, his body has changed, his elbow has been sliced twice, his legs aren’t as strong.

“Yeah, I’m going to change a little, it’s only natural,” Gagne said. “I’ll use the changeup more, maybe mix in more cutters and sliders.”

It’s not as if relief pitchers haven’t prolonged their careers this way before.

“Look at Mariano Rivera and Trevor Hoffman, guys like that have changed their styles and stayed in the game, that’s how I want to do it,” Gagne said.

That’s how he was doing it Monday, on a dry Cashman Field mound that buckled under several of his trademark hard landings.

“Horrible conditions,” Gagne said. “But I fought through it.”

He needed 17 pitches, and only four were fastballs above 90 mph.

But the curve was hard and the changeup was stifling and when he asked for the fastball, well, he struck out Ryan Budde looking at a 93-mph streak across the inside of the plate.

In all, 11 of 17 strikes, one hit, nothing in the air.

“Yeah, he’s ready,” said 51s Manager Jerry Royster. “You don’t have that kind of movement on your fastball and changeup if you’re not ready.”

Gagne says he is not only ready for the Dodgers, but that the Dodgers are ready for him, strong words considering last winter Gagne had criticized the team for not making a championship effort.

“I feel as good about us now as I have in a long time,” he said. “The way they have built things, it’s almost perfect there.”

But Gagne knows that to be an effective clubhouse leader, he will first have to be honest with himself.

There was talk that he was hurting throughout the spring, yet his hockey mentality pushed him to keep the pain a secret, thus delaying the second surgery.

“Our dilemma was, we have different definitions of pain,” Gagne said.

Are you on the same Gray’s Anatomy page now?

“I know how it’s supposed to feel now, yeah,” Gagne said. “And it feels great.”

And if it doesn’t?

“If there are any days I can’t pitch, I’ll tell them,” he Gagne.

At which point, one eavesdropping Las Vegas teammate began coughing, “Bull ... bull ... bull.”

A strange noise. A jungle noise.

*

Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.