Smiles and homers are plenty—the Big Cat is back

Sporting News, The, Feb 28, 2000 by Jon Heyman

In a back field at the Braves' training site in the world of Disney, Andres Galarraga began to write a happy ending to his tearful tale. All baseball smiled when Galarraga swung a bat for the first time in 16 months last week. The legendarily upbeat Galarraga had spent the past year battling cancer; yet it was like he'd never been away. His patented, full-face grin was constant, his torso robust, his swing as quick as ever.

How great is Galarraga? He made everyone in Braves camp forget John Rocker for a full day. Now that's power.

On the remote field a few miles from Mickey and the rest, Galarraga was magic. He did what he does best, which is to put a smile on everyone's face. Then he picked up his rather large stick. Batting against a coach he knew only as "Chino" with what he described as a half-to-three-quarters swing, Galarraga, looking fit and ready for April, cleared the fences eight times without ever trying too hard.

The script is perfect for Disney. Galarraga was starting his comeback on February 18, a date he could never forget. It was on that day last year when doctors told Galarraga he had cancer in a vertebra in his back. And then Galarraga had to hear it a second time, when he told his wife, Eneyda, and three young daughters words no 37-year-old should have to say: I have cancer.

The smile he wore last week looked equal parts relief and jubilation.

"I'm so proud of myself for what I did today," Galarraga says. "I can't wait to call my wife."

Galarraga was due for his once every two-month checkup, but he told reporters who gathered around him in a celebratory-tinged interview that he'd have to wait a day or two to see the doctor. He didn't want to spoil the moment. Understandably, he couldn't take the idea of seeing the doctor on the anniversary of the worst day of his life.

"I felt like I'd be dying any time," Galarraga recalled of the bad February 18. "The way everyone was looking at me, the way everyone knew."

The news struck Galarraga perhaps even a little harder, as he instantly recalled several spring trainings earlier when his father, Francisco, died of pancreatic cancer. That was 1992, one year the smile was wiped from Galarraga's face, which might explain why the career .290 hitter batted .243 that season.

Last year was no joy. He watched the World Series and wondered whether he and Javy Lopez, who missed most of the second half with a knee injury, could have helped against the Yankees. They're both back now.

It's no surprise what Galarraga's secret was the past 12 months. To keep smiling and stay positive. The chemotherapy for the non-Hodgkin's lymphoma cancer ended in August, the radiation a month later. He began light workouts in October and started working harder in November. Doctors checked him out with a CAT scan in December, and they found that the cancer was gone and the bone was getting stronger. His chances looked real.

The smile and swing were working nicely in tandem on this fittingly sunny day in central Florida. This was great for the Braves, even better for baseball, which could use a lift with Rocker on almost everyone's minds. Smiling as usual while sitting in the dugout, Galarraga listed his two goals: to win and to beat the cancer. He views himself as a role model for cancer fighters. "I'm happy to help a lot of people," he says.

Even the crustiest of baseball veterans felt something come over them. "He's probably going to make everyone cry before it's all over," says Braves manager Bobby Cox. "You're pulling for him so hard, it gets into your heart."

Everyone's crossed fingers did not go unheeded that first day of spring. Everything looked and felt right. Galarraga, who will turn 39 in June, appeared and swung like he did two years ago, when he hit 44 home runs and batted .305 for the Braves. He had been practicing in a cage while at home in West Palm Beach, Fla., 150 miles down the Florida Turnpike from the Braves' training site in Lake Buena Vista, Fla. But he hadn't faced a "real" pitcher on a real field since the playoffs in 1998.

Chino Cadahia didn't have a chance. "I'm surprised to hit the ball like that, especially the way the ball was jumping off the bat," Galarraga says. "It made me excited and really happy. I'm feeling like a new kid, a rookie."

Cox couldn't believe what he was seeing. He wasn't expecting even these three-quarter-type swings, and he halted Cadahia at one point, wanting things to go slower, wanting to eliminate any chances. Cox wouldn't even admit that Galarraga is being penciled into the cleanup hole yet, even broaching the idea of employing Wally Joyner, who is fighting age (though he's a year younger than Galarraga) and who posted only a .350 slugging percentage for San Diego last season.

After crushing baseball after baseball, Galarraga turned to observers, smiled his famous smile and said, "Not bad, huh?" He was as surprised as they were. After watching Galarraga on this day, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he will be the Braves' first baseman on opening day. It has to be that way.