BOB WOJNOWSKI

Wojo: Hanrahan's hard luck a story Soria knows well

Bob Wojnowski
The Detroit News
Musician Jack White, right, talks with Miguel Cabrera and Jose Iglesias, left, during batting practice Thursday.

Lakeland, Fla. — He said he felt like a fantasy camper trying to recapture past glory. It was fun, it was nostalgic, and then it was over.

That's how it ended for former star closer Joel Hanrahan, who never threw a competitive pitch with the Tigers, but couldn't stop trying. Unfortunately, this is how it often ends in baseball, where the distance between playing on and moving on is short, sometimes the length of an elbow ligament.

As Hanrahan departed Wednesday, released by the Tigers upon learning his Tommy John surgery had failed and another was needed, players offered hugs and back slaps. Joakim Soria was one of them, speaking briefly to Hanrahan before his short-term teammate was out the door by 9:30 a.m.

"I know exactly how he's feeling," said Soria, who has overcome two Tommy John surgeries. "I know the percentage of coming back is tough. Even the first one, your career is in jeopardy, and everything you dreamed about can be done. I just hope he can come back."

Hanrahan, 33, hopes so too, but doesn't sound deluded. After Dave Dombrowski informed him of his release, Hanrahan spoke for several minutes, using somber humor to lessen the blow. And really, what is there to say? There's no cautionary tale here. The Tigers did nothing wrong giving Hanrahan a chance on a minor-league deal, and Hanrahan did nothing wrong except take an unlucky spin on the wheel of fate.

Starting over

This wasn't a surprise, and it doesn't change anything with a Tigers bullpen forever in flux. They weren't counting on Hanrahan, but were willing to give a shot to a former star. For parts of his seven seasons, Hanrahan was a top-level closer, an All-Star in 2011 and 2012 with the Pirates. Then came the injury and the dreaded Tommy John surgery in May, 2013, and the arduous attempt to return.

It can take 12-18 months to recover, and when Hanrahan had to cut short a recent bullpen session because of soreness, he knew it was more than scar tissue in the elbow.

"Unfortunately I can't pinpoint when it happened, but it sucks," he said. "When I was trying to play in the (team) Ping-Pong tournament, I realized I had to get it fixed. I'm gonna give it what I got and do the rehab and see where it leads me, and hopefully get on the field again someday."

Theoretically, it could happen. Realistically, is his baseball career over?

"It might be," Hanrahan said. "My body might tell me that, but my mind's not telling me that. Baseball's pretty much the only thing I've done the last 15-16 years."

He'll have plenty of time to think on the 18-hour drive back to Texas with his wife, 2-year-old son and English bulldog. He'll have surgery March 18, then possibly another year of working for something that no longer may be attainable.

Tigers fans have no major connection to Hanrahan other than the periodic updates the past year. But they would've enjoyed his folksy nature, and they can appreciate his tale. It's a familiar one, as old as the game itself.

Soria is 30 and has undergone the Tommy John operation twice — in 2003 and 2012. He was pitching superbly in Texas last season before coming to the Tigers and struggling early, then rebounding. He'll fill the eighth-inning relief role, and if Joe Nathan falters, perhaps the closer's role.

Soria's productiveness shows the benefits of a surgery that alters so many baseball careers. Young reliever Bruce Rondon is in camp trying to rebound from the same surgery last March.

Familiar story

Dombrowski seemed legitimately pained to release Hanrahan, and it's clear why the Tigers were rooting for him.

"You feel terrible because he was not only a top closer, but a quality person," Dombrowski said. "We really weren't counting on him, but it would've been a bonus. It just shows a lot of times when people think these things are automatic, they're not. There's still a risk."

Soria knows it, and is grateful every day he can pitch. He said he feels comfortable here, and isn't concerned about his bumps with the Tigers. In 11 innings last summer, he gave up 13 hits and posted an ERA of 4.91, and was sidelined a month with an abdominal strain. He asked to ease in during spring training and isn't scheduled to pitch in the first five exhibition games.

The Tigers need more from him, and from pretty much everybody in the bullpen. Soria makes no excuses, but said it takes a while after the surgery to feel right.

"I feel normal now," he said. "There is some point, probably the second year, you don't even think you had Tommy John. One of the most important things I've learned is, the days you feel good, don't overdo it. You try to do too much, you stress it more."

As the prevalence of Tommy John surgeries rises, so do the recovery chances, although they're still daunting. Statistics show the success rate drops from about 80 percent to 40 percent with a second operation.

Thrown for a loop

So there was Hanrahan, signing papers at his locker, then working his way around the room, saying goodbye. If his pitching days are done, he just hopes to get healthy enough to enjoy his life, from golfing to deer bow-hunting to simply strapping his son into a car seat. It's the switch from fantasy life to real life.

"I did feel like one of those guys who paid a couple thousand bucks to come to fantasy camp," Hanrahan said. "I hadn't been out there for a year and a half, so just being around the guys in the clubhouse was fun. But it's tough when you can't throw the ball from the pitcher's mound to home."

It's the most celebrated distance in baseball, 60 feet, six inches. It can take a lifetime to make that throw, and untold pain to prove you still can.

bob.wojnowski@detroitnews.com

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