Chavez at crossroads

PHOENIX

Billy Beane and I were talking about Eric Chavez. I said I had interviewed Chavez and he was “heartbreakingly honest” about his injuries and his insecurities.

“He can do that,” Beane said.

He said he spoke to Chavez after I did and with Beane the A’s third baseman seemed upbeat, feeling good about his prospects.

I understand how things like that go. You’ve been injured or ill and then you have good days and bad days. I got Chavez on a bad day. So, I apologize to him and to you if this column seems a little dark.

Here’s some background. Chavez had to shut down his 2008 season in mid-August for shoulder surgery. He had four surgeries, including back surgery, in less than a year. In 2008 he played just 23 games, 113 games the past two seasons. He has reason to feel gloomy and he felt gloomier after his right shoulder began hurting this spring and that set back his program, although nothing seems structurally wrong and he does not now need any surgery. The A’s hope he will be ready early in the season, maybe even on opening day. He is scheduled to play on Friday night against San Diego.

Now to Chavez. I approached him at his locker the other morning before stretching and the workout. And I said something stupid like, “It must feel great to be playing again.”

Chavez stared at me, sadly, I thought.

“I’m not sure yet, to be honest,” he said. “This next year and the one after that will determine how long my career goes and how well it goes.”

This is serious, I thought, not a standard spring-training, life-is-great interview. Chavez was talking from the heart about an existential truth — either he will be a big-league ballplayer or he won’t and he’ll find out pretty soon. For him, everything is at stake.

“I feel older than I am,” he said. Why?

“Having all those surgeries,”he said. “I never broke a bone. I went my whole life pretty much injury-free. I’ve got to break the injury cycle and prove it to myself. When I get back on the field, prove I can be the type of player I was.”

I had the feeling Chavez was talking as much to himself as to me.

“How does it feel going through all this?” I asked.

“I’m like everybody else,” he said. “Some days I feel good about it. Sometimes I feel terrible about it. The shoulder set me back mentally and physically, and now I’m back to where I was. I’m as curious as other people are about me. It’s a crappy feeling.”

Chavez smiled another sad smile.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Once you start having surgeries ...” For a moment his voice trailed off. “To say I could be healthy and swinging at pitches over my head or in the dirt and getting hits, I don’t know if that’s realistic. I think I have to stop relying on my talent and become a knowledgeable hitter. On defense I can go and perform at a high level. Offensively, I need to prove it.”

It’s rare when a player invites an outsider to come in so intimately. Chavez always had been a baseball player and he’s 31, still young, but he feels his job is threatened — and that means his identity is at risk.

“You seem kind of down,” I said. “Do you ever pull down the shades in your room and sit in the dark?”

“Sometimes it’s like that,” he said. “Moments of doubt. I came back here. I’m with the guys. It revives you a little bit. Thankfully, my shoulder feels better, but there’s another step I need to take.”

The biggest step.

For more on the world of sports in general and the Bay Area in particular go to the Cohn Zohn at blog.pressdemocrat.com/cohn. You can reach Staff Columnist Lowell Cohn at 521-5486 or lowell.cohn@pressdemocrat.com.