Friday, May 2, 2008


DIAMONDBACKS 9TH: WAGNER REPLACED HENRY (PITCHING); Williams singled to center; Lee struck out; Stinnett singled to pitcher [Williams to second]; POWELL REPLACED WAGNER (PITCHING); GARCIA BATTED FOR BENITEZ; Garcia doubled to right [Williams scored, Stinnett to third]; Dellucci was walked intentionally; Klassen forced Stinnett (third to catcher) [Garcia to third, Dellucci to second]; FABREGAS BATTED FOR OLSON; Fabregas struck out; 1 R, 3 H, 0 E, 3 LOB. Astros 8, Diamondbacks 8.

NEW YORK -- The preceding play-by-play of an inning from nearly 10 years ago, antiseptic and stilted as it is, includes a poor choice of words. It should read: Kelly Stinnett singled off pitcher.
The pitcher was Billy Wagner. The single ricocheted off his head. And at some point Friday night or Saturday or Sunday afternoon -- perhaps at some points all three days -- Wagner will flash back to that singular, single moment.

The Mets play their next three games in Phoenix, specifically at Chase Field, nee Bank One Ballpark, the site of that frightful collision involving his skull and a baseball traveling 102 mph.
The retrosheet.org account says so little about what happened in the desert that night, July 15, 1998, after Wagner had been summoned to pitch the ninth inning, to protect the Astros' 8-7 lead against the Diamondbacks, only "Stinnett singled to pitcher [Williams to second]; POWELL REPLACED WAGNER (PITCHING)." Not that Wagner needs any reminders.

Though struck in the head by the line drive, he lost neither consciousness nor memory of the episode. Lost instead were time (24 days) to the disabled list and whatever remained of the carefree attitude that adolescence fosters. Vests are bulletproof; not so pitchers whose follow-throughs carry them perilously close to bat-ball contact. Wagner jokes about his lack of height -- he's listed at 5-foot-10. He has the stride of a pitcher six inches taller, though, and it brings him four feet closer to high-torque swings, to a place where reflexes and luck are the only defenses.
He thought about that proximity as he lay in a Phoenix hospital bed that night and during the ensuing weeks when he couldn't pitch.

"I had a lots of time to think about what happened," he said. "And I did. I thought about how lucky I was."

Stinnett's swing had sent the baseball toward center field.

"I was pretty sure I wasn't dead, but I knew I got smoked. I'd been hit before,
in the butt and in the ankle. But this was different -- scarier -- 'cause you
don't know what to think at first."
-- Billy Wagner

"As straightaway as you can hit it," Wagner said.

He turned his head to the right and raised his glove in self-defense as much as he did in baseball defense.

"I missed it, and it got me right here," he said, pointing to the area just behind his left ear. "They got it at 102 off the bat."

Wagner got it, too. He went down, and the baseball bounced toward the first-base dugout. The point of impact swelled, his ear bled internally. Jeff Bagwell stood at the mound, his friend on the ground, and said, "He's dead."

"I was pretty sure I wasn't dead, but I knew I got smoked," Wagner said. "I'd been hit before, in the butt and in the ankle. But this was different -- scarier -- 'cause you don't know what to think at first. ... 'Am in real trouble here?' After I thought I was OK, I started thinking, 'I have to be more under control after I left it go.' I had to be in better position to field the ball, to protect myself."

Trouble did develop, though, in the form of vertigo. Walking, let alone pitching, was out the question for a while.

"I couldn't even open my eyes the first few days," Wagner said. "If I did, I had to throw up -- even if I was on my back. I couldn't do anything. I felt like a baby."

Temmate Mike Magnante met Wagner at the airpoirt after he had flown back to Houston days after being struck.

"I just closed my eyes, put my hands on his shoulder and followed him," Wagner said. He returned home to a wife whose pregnancy was in its ninth month.

Wagner eventually required treatment by a balance specialist. And, of course, there were other obstacles to overcome, none greater than releasing a pitch to a batter intent on making contact. He knew he couldn't resume his career if he were pitching with the side of his head in the back of his mind.

"I thought the pitch Kelly hit was a fastball away. So when I started rehabbing, I just kept throwing fastballs away, just to get over it," he said. "Then when I saw the tape of it, I found out it was a fastball in. ... But I got past it."

Sort of.

He and Stinnett talked about the incident some five weeks after Wagner's return to pitching.
"Kelly had tears in his eyes," Wagner said.

The conversation helped, too. But others weren't over the incident. Stinnett's cousin was the Astros' preacher. And he told Wagner that D-backs manager Buck Showalter didn't want Stinnett batting against Wagner if it could be avoided.

But then Wagner faced the Diamondbacks, in Phoenix, of course. He was summoned to start the 11th inning with the score tied. He pitched two scoreless innings and emerged as the winning pitcher. Wagner faced seven batters that night. One reached base -- Stinnett.

"I couldn't throw a ball over the plate, and Kelly was swinging at anything I threw up there. We were like Little Leaguers," Wagner said. "We're in a tight game, and we're both laughing."
The laughter never as mentioned in the play-by-play.

DIAMONDBACKS 12TH: STANKIEWICZ BATTED FOR DELLUCCI; Stankiewicz struck out; Miller struck out; STINNETT BATTED FOR GARCIA; Stinnett walked; Batista struck out; 0 R, 0 H, 0 E, 1 LOB. Astros 6, Diamondbacks 5.

Marty Noble is a reporter for MLB.com. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.

danny@arizonapitching.com