A Day in the Life of: Dave Dravecky

I try to intersperse my mini-bios with people from the past and people from the present. Although Dave Dravecky's moment of fame was in the past, he still lives, so I'm counting him as from the present. Older baseball fans might even remember him. I came to admire Mr. Dravecky after reading his book, Comeback. I've never been a big sports fan. I enjoy some sports such as volleyball, Frisbee, basketball, and I'm beginning to like soccor. But I'm not a serious player and I'm not a fan-atic; you know, one of those people who idolize the sports figures. I just like to play, hope I do a good job, and have fun. If I'm watching a game, I like to watch, have fun, and not-too-seriously hope that the Mariners or the Sea Hawks win; or whatever team my friends are on. (Not that I've ever watched the Sea Hawks play. Wait. I did. I watched the final play of a supposedly famous game last year on TV. (No clue why it was famous.) It was very exciting. They hunched over in the middle of the field, some sort of a whistle thing blew. The commentator said something about their being enough time for one more play. The players dispersed and huddled up around their coach guy things, and then they went and hunched over in the middle of the field again, and then there was a little running (no sign of the football) and then the game was over ! whoo-hoo! Sea Hawks win!) Of the major games, baseball is my favorite because at the very least I understand a bit of how it's played. But, I've never played myself; only watched others. So, that ought to explain why I don't necessarily admire Dave Dravecky as a great baseball player, (although he was a good one) but rather as a person who is living, and has lived a rich Christian life. I admire his obedience to God, his courage and strength to overcome more than his screaming pitches and fast balls. (Actually, Dravecky was a control pitcher. He really didn't throw fast balls. He was better-known for throwing the ball exactly where he wanted it.) Dave Dravecky's dream was to make it to the big leagues. In spite of that, almost everyone thought that he was only good enough for the minor leagues. They told him he wouldn't make it. It only inspired him to try harder. The Padres called him up from the minor leagues in 1982. Actually, let me back up a little. Two major things happened while Dave was in the minor leagues. First, the Pirates offered to send Dave to play in Colombia. (the country, not the district.) He went with his wife Janice and experienced exactly the opposite of what he was expecting. He expected tropical beaches and exotic Latin sights, instead, they experienced misery in the shape of sickness, (due to bad food and water), guys with automatic guns on all the corners, and extreme poverty. For both his wife and himself, the experience changed their perspectives in two different ways. For his wife, who had been brought up to believe that God was just a kind old grandfather figure who watched over the world, the trip destroyed that image. She couldn't understand that 'a good God would allow bad things like poverty to happen.' She drew away from God temporarily. In the end, it turned out that she needed that image destroyed in order to make way for the correct image. For Dave, a Catholic who believed himself to be saved, the trip made him begin to rethink things. It made him realize, or at least become open to, the possibility that he needed God. He began to draw closer to God. The second thing that happened while Dave was in the minor leagues was that he, and his wife, became saved. A year or so after the trip to Columbia, (Dave actually took two trips, the second without his wife. So we're talking shortly after Dave came back from his equally bad second trip) the Pirates sent Dave to Texas. There, Dave's roommate was a devout Christian. After watching his roommate 'like a hawk,' Dave decided that he wanted to make a commitment for Christ. His wife came to Texas a few weeks later. They made the commitment together a few months later. In light of later events, both realized that their salvation was the important thing, not the limelights. Dave was traded by the Padres to the Giants, where he spent the rest of his baseball career. Dave was a good pitcher and he loved the game. What I like about his story, is how God reached thousands of people through him in an unlikely, unprecedented way. Dave noticed the lump in his pitching arm late in 1987. He thought nothing of it. It wasn't for another year that it made its presence really known. Laid up with a sore arm for a few days, he happened to mention the lump to his fitness rehab manager guy. The man recommended that it get looked at by a doctor, so that's what Dave did. In 1988, Dave heard the word 'tumor' for the first time. It was found to be malignant, but not a particularly life-threatening type right then. In the end, the doctors took out fifty percent of Dave's deltoid muscle. (Whatever that is.) In essence, they took away 95 percent of the muscle's ability to function. Dave was told several things. First, he would never be able to pitch again, he might not even be able to throw anything again. Second, he was told he probably would not be able to lift his arm over his head for a very long time or take his wallet out of his back pocket. Third, because of the way the surgery was done, the bone would be very brittle and likely to break for a while. (Because it was a relatively new procedure, the doctors were unsure as to how long the bone would be brittle. Their estimate turned out to be wrong.) Dave was able to both lift his arm over his head and remove his wallet in a matter of weeks. Doctors told his wife, 'short of a miracle, Dave will never pitch again.' The day Dave was able to remove his wallet from his pocket Dave was also able to demonstrate his pitching motion. I like this quote from the book that Dave told his doctor: "If I never play again, Doc, I'll know that God has someplace else he wants me. But I'll tell you something else. I believe in a God who can do miracles. If you remove half my deltoid muscle, that doesn't mean I'll never pitch again. If you remove all of my muscle, it doesn't mean I'll never pitch again. If God wants me to pitch, I'll be out there." Dave was able to pitch again. Not only that, he was able to pitch in the major leagues. It was a game to be remembered in baseball history. It was a time when fans came, not to see a game, but to see the guy in it who was living proof that you can overcome tough things. As the day approached, new dimensions were added. A pledge challenge was begun for 6-year-old Alex Vlahos. Alex was a cancer patient who needed a bone marrow transplant. Dave had become friends with Alex. As the big game approached, fans pledged x amount of dollars per pitch. Alex was able to get his treatment. (The challenge was not begun by Dave, but Dave fully supported it.) Dave pitched one of his best games ever. And then another dimension was added. Because of his amazing, miraculous comeback, Dave had the incredible opportunity to share his faith to the millions on TV via the reporters. Dave said "that doesn't happen often." On his next game, yet another dimension happened. Through it, God reached more people. Dave's arm broke exactly like the doctors had warned might happen. When Dave made his comeback, he was able to tell reporters that God had made it possible. When Dave broke his arm, he was able to tell reporters that the big picture was not what had just happened, but rather that it had begun with his salvation in Texas. In Dave's words, he couldn't just tell these people that the God who had just worked a miracle, was now doing an un-miracle. It was merely a new step towards reaching more people with the message that the God who can do such miracles is the God who gave Dave his God-glorifying perspective on the perceived un-miracle. (whew, that was a long sentence. Go ahead, read it a couple more times!) Really, that's what I like about his book, Comeback. It shows the big picture. I like the word vicissitude. It means 'the ups and downs of life.' In reality, as Dave saw it, each up and each down are a small part of life that set the stage for the next part. Particularly, each down sets the stage for the even bigger up. It's a good perspective to have. Dave hoped to make a second comeback. However, his cancer returned shortly after the breakage. The rest of the muscle and part of the triceps were removed. While the particular cancer was not an immediate killer, it was a type which is the most likely to return no matter what. Dave now has a ministry of speaking; of telling his story to those around. His cancer returned several times and his arm, parts of his collarbone, and his shoulder blade were amputated as the cancer began to take on a more life-threatening aspect. Dave operates his ministry from Colorado and speaks about both his famous story, and the less famous story of what it has meant to to grow in the Lord through his story. He has also written several more books including: When you can't Comeback, and The Worth of a Man. Unfortunately, I have yet to read these. Comeback however, I definitely recommend. (This has been: A Day in the Life of: Dave Dravecky. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:__)