Reliever Lowe ready for another chance

The news delivered to Mark Lowe as he lay groggy in a hospital bed last October could hardly have been worse.

Orthopedic surgeon Dr. Lewis Yocum told the Mariners relief pitcher that the elbow he'd operated on the day before was in bad shape. There was bone rubbing on bone and not nearly the amount of cartilage Yocum had hoped to find when he'd agreed to attempt a surgery rarely performed on pitchers.

Yocum had used an arthroscopic procedure to help grow back missing cartilage in Lowe's right elbow by poking tiny holes in the bone to create blood flow. It was already a crapshoot that the so-called "microfracture surgery" would work even before Lowe went under, so Yocum had braced the pitcher not to get his hopes up.

"He just said, 'You might not pitch again,' " Lowe said. "That was hard to swallow, but that was reality. That was one of the things I needed to hear, because my whole baseball career has been spent proving people wrong."

As Lowe grimly accepted the post-surgical news, he realized how monumental a challenge lay ahead. But eight agonizing months, another operation and plenty of sweat and tears later, the 24-year-old will once again attempt to pitch in a game.

The Mariners, trying to move a season-high 10 games over .500 tonight when they open a weekend series against Toronto at Safeco Field, plan to send Lowe out on a minor-league rehabilitation assignment next week. They will cross their fingers and hope, as will all those who've seen Lowe through this ordeal, that he can resume his major-league dream and give the team a second-half boost.

"Everybody was very honest with me," Lowe said about the odds of recovery. "I just kind of hung with it. There's not much more you can do."

His battle is far from over. It's still not known how long his elbow will hold up or whether Lowe will later need a more complex type of surgery.

Microfracture surgery is more common on the knees of professional football and basketball players. The success rate is mixed, with NBA stars like Jason Kidd and Amare Stoudemire returning to their previous levels quickly, while Chris Webber took years to regain his form.

Lowe's operation was on the elbow, a trickier surgery with virtually no track record among pro baseball players. Lowe's father, Bruce, was at the hospital and was told the bleak results by Yocum before his son woke up.

"He had some serious damage in there," the elder Lowe said. "It was bone against bone and the extent of the damage was worse than he'd thought. I thought, 'Oh, no! Are things over already?' "

Lowe, called up from Class AA, had dazzled during a stint with the Mariners last summer. A 97 mph fastball and deceptive slider helped him post a 1.93 earned-run average and .190 opponents batting average in 15 appearances.

But elbow pain ended Lowe's season in August. Soon after, a chondral defect — holes in the bone where cartilage should be — was found during a magnetic resonance imaging exam.

Lowe's father had seen his son challenged before. But never like this.

As a fifth-grader, Lowe had been forced off an all-star team in his native Houston when some fathers pushing their own sons onto the roster argued that he couldn't hit. Lowe later endured similar political battles at various baseball levels, each reinforcing to him that it wasn't enough simply to be good — he had to be noticeably better.

He'd spend hours throwing a baseball against the side of his family's house, the bricks still marked to this day.

"He just pounded it to death, honing in, trying to hit his spots," his father said.

A couple of older, baseball-crazed boys used to practice with him. One was Kelly Eddlemon, five years older than Lowe and drafted by the Tampa Bay Devil Rays in 2000.

"They used to stand out there and Mark used to strike those boys out," said Lowe's mother, Julie. "They used to get so mad because they were older than he was. Even then, you could see that he had something special."

Lowe's teachers used to ask him what he wanted to be and he'd say "a baseball player." When they'd reply, "No, seriously," he'd say, "I am being serious."

So, his life's ambition at risk, Lowe made sure to find out all he could about microfracture surgery. He sought second and third opinions before going with Yocum, the Los Angeles Angels team physician, who had done this surgery on a limited basis.

After the operation, Yocum warned Lowe's family and friends that his arm was highly unstable.

"We were told that it could go either way and we had to make sure he wasn't rushed," said Lowe's girlfriend, Danae Stratton-Pannunzio. "It could be like a brand-new elbow, or it could go totally the opposite way. If he went out and played golf, it could go on him just like that."

The couple met two years ago when Lowe was a Class A pitcher in Wisconsin. She tried to keep his spirits up in the gloomy post-surgery days and then later, when Lowe rented a home near the team's Arizona training facility so he could start his recovery.

"He took the news pretty hard," she said of the operation's results. "He was pretty bummed out for a couple of days."

There were tough times during his rehab as well. Lowe was banned from throwing, so all he could do from November through January was have team trainers work at loosening the arm.

"For the longest time, I'd go in and they'd stretch it, which hurt really, really bad," Lowe said. "I'd sit there and they'd try to stretch it out. They'd pump it to get the swelling out. Ice it, stimulate it. Over and over and over for the entire offseason, three times a day."

Lowe dubbed the experience "Groundhog Day," and those closest to him marveled at how he stayed sane. When spring training arrived in February, Lowe underwent a second arthroscopic surgery to clean out scar tissue and increase the arm's mobility.

Mariners closer J.J. Putz, recovering from an elbow problem of his own, looked at Lowe in the training room and asked: "How are you standing this? I've only had this a few days and I'm going crazy."

Lowe's father is a church deacon and his mother is deeply religious as well. Lowe attended Sunday school regularly and remains an active churchgoer. His parents and girlfriend feel Lowe's faith gave him added patience to ignore the odds against him.

It wasn't until the regular season began that Lowe was cleared to throw a baseball. Up until a few weeks ago, he wasn't sure his arm would ever be the same.

Lowe reached a point of no return a few weeks ago. He'd been playing catch but his shoulder felt lousy and his mechanics were off. He figured he was compensating, fearful of reinjuring the elbow.

"I finally got to the point where I figured I wasn't getting anything from this," he said. "I was going to have to put some stress on the elbow. If it was going to get hurt again, I had to let it happen."

Lowe opened up more on his throws and the elbow felt better. His velocity still is about 10 mph off last year's peak, though his coaches hope it gradually returns. No one can guarantee him any of this will last. And Lowe isn't seeking guarantees, only another chance.

For now, he has one.

"Whatever happens, happens," he said. "There's nothing I can do more than I already have to change it."

Geoff Baker: 206-464-8286 or gbaker@seattletimes.com.

Read his daily blog at www.seattletimes.com/Mariners