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Monday, July 05, 1999 By Ron Cook, Post-Gazette Sports Columnist
You have to be fairly old to remember Rennie Stennett's slide. If you were at Three Rivers Stadium on that August day in 1977, you know the one. You'll never forget the pitiful sight of Stennett rolling in agony near second base, not only his right ankle shattered but also his career with the Pirates.
Nobody should have to see something like that a second time, which is what made the Pirates-Milwaukee Brewers game at the stadium yesterday so horrible. To see Jason Kendall in such pain? To see another great young player struck down in his prime with a catastrophic ankle injury? It didn't seem fair.
No one cared that the Pirates lost, 4-3. On this sad afternoon, no one cared that they might not win many more games this summer without Kendall. Everybody, inside the clubhouse and out, knows he's been their one indispensable player virtually since he caught his first game in 1996. No one gives more offensively or defensively or as a leader, especially with the pitching staff. No one sets the tone like he does by the way he plays. Just call him Jack Lambert in a catcher's mask.
It's funny, no one in the Pirates' clubhouse mentioned any of that after the game. They might have commiserated about what Kendall's loss meant to the team if he had pulled a hamstring or jammed a wrist. But not yesterday. His injury was serious. It was career-altering, if not career-threatening.
That's why Gene Lamont, who has been criticized for being too unemotional, was sobbing openly into a yellow towel.
It's why Al Martin, who always has faced the media in good times and bad, was politely declining interviews. "Jason is like a little brother to me," he said, softly.
It's why Keith Osik was walking around as if he had just lost his best friend, which, in a way, he had. Why Brian Giles and Kevin Young were walking around aimlessly, faces pale, as if they were sick to their stomach. Why Mike Williams was sitting in front of his locker next to Kendall's empty stall, staring into space, perhaps realizing how inconsequential his minor arm injury is.
At that moment, Kendall was being wheeled into emergency surgery at Allegheny General Hospital.
"As an athlete, this really hits home," said Osik, who goes from being the least-used player in baseball as Kendall's backup -- six starts in the first 80 games -- to the Pirates' No. 1 catcher. "This is unbelievably hard for some of us to take."
It was such a fluke play. Most serious injuries seem to happen that way. Remember Rod Woodson tearing up his knee at Three Rivers? Greg Lloyd tearing up his in Jacksonville?
Remember Stennett?
Kendall was trying to break up Steve Woodard's no-hitter by beating out a bunt with one out in the fifth inning. It's not that he ran harder than normal to first base. He always runs hard. And it's not as if he lunged for the bag the way a lot of guys do. He just took a bad step. His right foot caught the inside of the base and his ankle rolled. It was fractured and dislocated in that instant, but, because of his momentum, he had to take two more steps with his full weight on it. The pain must have been unbearable.
"I knew he was in trouble as soon as he went down and rolled over," Giles said. "He was over here and his foot was way over there."
"I could see it all the way from the bullpen," said bullpen coach Spin Williams.
First-base coach Joe Jones was the first to Kendall. He saw his foot at a bad angle, then saw a good four or five inches of Kendall's fibula poking out of a hole in his stocking. He backed off instantly, helplessly, gesturing wildly for trainer Kent Biggerstaff.
Biggerstaff looked like Carl Lewis getting out to Kendall. Before you knew it, he had Kendall on a stretcher and in the clubhouse. Doctors did what they could for him there, then rushed him to the hospital.
The good news? "There was no associated fracture on the inside so he won't need pins or rods in there," Biggerstaff said.
The better news? "Hopefully, Jason will be ready for spring training next year."
That will suit Lamont just fine. All he cares about is Kendall's career. Maybe by now, he's worried about how his team will get along without him the rest of the season. But that was the furthest thing from his mind as he headed to the hospital last night where Cam Bonifay, Martin, Osik and who knows how many other Pirates were expected to be, if not for Kendall's sake, then to comfort each other.
It's safe to say Lamont, when he put his head on his pillow last night, said a little prayer that Kendall will come back as the same player.
"If it's possible for Jason Kendall to be 100 percent again, he'll be 100 percent because I know how hard he works," Lamont said. "The only thing I'm worried about is if his speed will come back."
Kendall had 22 stolen bases and was a lock to break his National League record for a catcher, 26, set last year. If he does lose a little foot speed, it won't be a disaster. At least he plays the one position where a player doesn't need a lot of mobility.
Stennett was a second baseman. He never was the same player defensively after his injury. He never was the same hitter, either. Batting .336 and challenging teammate Dave Parker for the batting title at the time of his injury, he never hit higher than .244 the next four seasons and was out of baseball after 1981.
"I'm sure the [medical] methods they had 15 or 20 years ago to treat these guys weren't as good as the ones today," Lamont said.
Can you blame him for being hopeful?
He's not alone rooting for Kendall this morning.
Kendall doesn't deserve Stennett's fate. Pittsburgh doesn't deserve seeing that happen again.
Ron Cook can be reached at rcook@post-gazette.com.
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