Rasmussen Weary of Proving Himself : Baseball: Although no other teams were interested in him, Padre pitcher is confident he can win despite injuries.

MESA, Ariz. —  Padre pitcher Dennis Rasmussen felt the pain when he awoke Sunday morning. He gingerly poked his left shoulder and grimaced. He touched it again and cursed.

He tried not to worry. Maybe these were just the usual aches and pains after pitching Saturday for the first time in a spring-training game.

He awoke Monday, and the dull pain still was entrenched in the shoulder. This was when he knew that he had only been fooling himself.

It’s also the first time this spring that he has become frightened.

“This isn’t something I can afford to happen right now,” Rasmussen said. “I want to pitch. I want to prove myself. I want to prove a lot of things to a lot of different people.

“I think a lot of people have been wrong about me. I just need the opportunity to show it.”

Rasmussen, married with four daughters under the age of 7, is at a crossroads of his career. He still believes that he is one of the baseball’s most effective left-handers. His .571 winning percentage indicates that he’s a winner. He has made at least 30 starts in five consecutive seasons.

But as much confidence as he has in his ability, as much as he believes that he, too, can be the ace of this staff, the nagging memory of the winter refuses to fade away.

For the first time in his career, Rasmussen was a free agent during the off-season. He figured lucrative contract offers would be rolling in. After all, who couldn’t use a left-hander who never misses a start?

Why do you think Bud Black was paid $10 million over four years by the San Francisco Giants on the free-agent market? Why do you think Tom Browning received $12.48 million? Or Zane Smith $10.6 million? Or Danny Jackson $10.5 million? Even Matt Young was paid $6.4 million over three years by the Boston Red Sox.

Rasmussen kept waiting for his phone to ring. When that didn’t happen, he figured at least there would be a few teams calling in with multi-year offers. Still nothing.

Hey, is this damn phone even working? The only interest was from the Padres. Joe McIlvaine, Padre general manager, telephoned and said he’d take him back for the same salary as a year ago. Rasmussen laughed. Come on, who does McIlvaine think he’d dealing with? This is not some rookie. This is a free agent who can go wherever he pleases.

Deciding this was no time for machismo or bravado, Rasmussen decided that it was time to start telephoning a few teams himself. Bob Teaff, Rasmussen’s agent, started with Atlanta and kept calling until he had contacted all 26 major league teams.

Cincinnati showed some interest, but weren’t yet willing to offer a contract. Detroit was intrigued, but it didn’t want to be rushed. No one wanted to make a commitment.

Time was running out.

The Padres, showing their loving tenderness, said that as long as no one was calling, they were willing to take him back. Of course, it would have to be at the same salary. And, oh, by the way, the contract would not be guaranteed.

Only 30 minutes before the 9 p.m. deadline Jan. 8, Rasmussen agreed to return. He received a $2,500 raise to $805,000. There were no incentives. No award bonuses. And the Padres weren’t guaranteeing a thing except a chance to win a job.

Welcome back, big guy.

Some of his teammates say he is bitter. Others claim that he is an angry man seeking vengeance. Rasmussen says it is only an eagerness to show the world his talents.

This is a pitcher who allowed a league-leading 28 home runs last season. He yielded a .286 batting average against right-handed hitters and a whopping .330 batting average against lefties. And his 4.51 ERA was among the worst for National League starting pitchers.

Yet he has a career record of 80-60, including 11-15 last season. He is one of only 12 pitchers with at least 30 starts the past five seasons.

“He’s not always the most impressive pitcher,” McIlvaine said, “but he does find a way to win. That’s not so easy to find.”

For the first time since rejoining the Padres in 1988, he should have a top-notch defensive infield behind him. Tony Fernandez, a four-time Gold Glove winner who owns the highest fielding percentage in history among shortstops, will be manning the left side. First baseman Fred McGriff, whose defensive skills are superior to anyone who has been at first since Steve Garvey, will be combing the right side.

Considering this is man who makes his living inducing ground balls, Rasmussen must feel like an albatross has been lifted. No longer does he have to worry about strikeouts. Or making sure the ball is hit in certain areas. He can just pitch.

Yet, when the Padres talk about just whom will be their No. 5 starter in the rotation this season, they talk up Rasmussen . . . and Calvin Schiraldi . . . and Derek Lilliquist . . . and Mike Dunne . . . and Atlee Hammaker . . . and . . .

“Sure I’m disappointed,” he said. “I don’t understand it, not at all. Apparently, they don’t have enough confidence in me. But I’ve always had to prove myself, so why should anything change now?

“I’ve been having to prove myself since I was 15 years old. That’s when people thought I was finished. People don’t realize what I have to go through just to play this game.

“A lot of people have aches and pains, but who has this?”

Rasmussen motioned toward his left foot and the ugly scar that darts across his ankle. There is not a day that goes by when it doesn’t throb. He elevates the foot when he can, trying to alleviate the pain, but it never goes away.

Neither does the memory.

It happened Sept. 3, 1973. Rasmussen and his father were enjoying themselves, riding their 10-speed bikes on a three-mile dead-end road in San Clemente.

They were riding alongside the road when a van approached from behind. It was a Marine and his girlfriend, out joy-riding for the day. The van attempted to pass Rasmussen, but the side door clipped the left pedal of Rasmussen’s bike, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

He lay there screaming in pain. He thought he was going to vomit when he glanced down at ankle. It was unrecognizable. If not for his Achilles’ tendon, his foot would have been severed.

“I thought my whole world ended,” Rasmussen said. “I wondered if I’d ever walk again.”

Rasmussen was hospitalized for 10 days while doctors attempted to mend it. They took a skin graft from his posterior to aid the healing process. They put him in a hip cast for three weeks and then placed a cast below his knee for another four weeks.

He miraculously recovered, attending Creighton on a baseball/basketball scholarship. But that was 14 years ago. The ligaments in his ankle since have shortened. Two or three bone spurs in his ankle eventually will need to be removed. And doctors have told him that one day he’ll be arthritic.

“I count my blessings every day,” he said, “being able to do what I’ve done. I know I’ve got to stay active, because as soon as I stop, it’s going to get worse.”

Still, Rasmussen says, he feels self-conscious with his injury. When the pitchers start running, he has to retreat to the trainer’s room and use the bike. When they’re talking and laughing in the clubhouse each morning, Rasmussen is in the trainer’s room, having his ankle iced.

“It’s like I’m a part of them,” Rasmussen said, “but there’s certain things I just can’t do. I’ll never be able to run like them, and there’s certain exercises I have to miss.

“But I know I can still pitch, and no one will convince me differently.”

Rasmussen, 31, already has been traded five times in his career. He has had two different stints in New York. Two different stints with the Padres. Ever since the Angels traded him away in 1982 for Tommy John, the suitcase has remained close by.

This is the reason for the anguish and frustration. He wants to stay in San Diego. He wants to finish his career with the Padres. He wants to be recognized, for once in his life, for his accomplishments, not his faults.

He won 18 games in 1986 with the Yankees. He won 16 games with the Cincinnati Reds and Padres in 1988. Why doesn’t anyone believe that he’ll do it again?

“I’ve gone through so much in my career that I’m mentally tough,” Rasmussen said, “and because of that, I can handle this. I always give my team a chance to win. I don’t care whether it’s 6-5 or 2-1, I give them a chance.

“Maybe I don’t express myself outwardly like I should, but I want to win as bad, or worse, than any guy in this clubhouse.

“Let me put it this way, I’ll be real surprised if I don’t win a lot of games this year.

“And if it’s not with the Padres, I’ll be helping someone else.

“You look at my record. I’m a winner.”