Joel Sherman

Joel Sherman

MLB

Yanks’ Banuelos one of many saved by late surgeon Frank Jobe

TAMPA — Manuel Banuelos will take the mound Saturday in Kissimmee, Fla., because of a technique first tried 17 years before he was even born.

His rebirth as a pitcher can be tied to a man who died Thursday, to Frank Jobe, who opened up Tommy John’s elbow in September 1974 — three months after Derek Jeter came into this world — and changed baseball history.

“Thank God, he did that,” Banuelos said. “That is why I am still here.”

For the first 100 years or so of the game’s history, a player tore his ulnar collateral ligament and maybe he tried to pitch with the pain, the weakness. But, ultimately, it meant the end. And then Jobe reconstructed John’s ligament, gave the lefty what the doctor believed was a 100-to-1 shot to continue pitching.

John went on to pitch until 1989, until he was 46. He won 164 games after the surgery or one fewer than Sandy Koufax had in his whole career, and it was Koufax — his pitching life derailed by an elbow tear — who once asked Jobe why he didn’t make Koufax the guinea pig. Instead, it was another Dodgers lefty and the procedure became known as Tommy John surgery.

That term now conjures not the end, but resurrection, hope of continued possibility. What used to be the end has been a new beginning for hundreds of pitchers, such as Chris Carpenter, John Smoltz and Stephen Strasburg.

Joe Girardi said: “Think how much money he has made people after suffering an injury that used to end careers.”

The Tigers, for example, signed two veteran relievers this past offseason, both of whom travelled for Friday night’s game against the Yankees — Joe Nathan, who had Tommy John surgery, in 2010, and Joba Chamberlain, who had it in 2011. Chamberlain said “1,000 percent” that he thought how much Jobe had meant to his career after hearing of the doctor’s passing, and Nathan said, “What he did for this sport, is no secret. That injury was career over and now it is almost like pitchers want to get it because you come back stronger.”

Well, maybe not that much. Because there are still no sure things. The success rate is about 80 percent — far from 100-to-1, but still not perfect. The recovery typically takes 12-18 months, a long road — a road, for example, that Matt Harvey is just now taking.

There are hours of alone time. Days of small milestones — throwing 20 times from 60 feet, 25 times from 90 feet. Days of frustration when there are inevitable setbacks. There is the mental anguish: Can I really let go of the ball and this elbow will not collapse again, will not hurt? How will it feel tomorrow morning?

What will happen when you move beyond the bullpen sessions, the simulated games? What occurs when the L-screen protection is removed and an actual hitter from another team is in there and, gulp, you are pitching for real again?

“The bottom line is until you are healthy and between those lines again and really facing a hitter in a game, well, there is no preparation for that,” said Nathan, the active saves leader after the retirement of Mariano Rivera (who, by the way, had elbow surgery, though not Tommy John, done by Frank Jobe in 1992, perhaps the most meaningful save of Rivera’s career).

Banuelos graduates to a game Saturday against the Astros. He admits a combination of nerves and joy that are hard to contain. He has not pitched in a game in 659 days, last at Triple-A on May 18, 2012. At that time, he was a consensus top-50 prospect, a lefty on the come before his elbow fell apart.

Now, after missing all of last season, he has pleased the Yankees with the life on his fastball, the return of a changeup that once drew Johan Santana comps. But that has been in these protective scenarios — side sessions, bullpens, simulated games. Now, the training wheels come off.

Banuelos does not turn 23 until next week. There is still a chance for him to reclaim his career, his once lofty status, to perhaps one day be part of something special moving forward for the Yankees with Masahiro Tanaka, Ivan Nova and Michael Pineda, who is trying to come back from a different, more complicated surgery, to his shoulder.

It is likely someone else at some point would have figured out the surgery, but Jobe removed the mystery, got there first, changed baseball history, gave opportunity where there was once only closure. So in hundreds and hundreds of pitchers forever more, Jobe will live on even in death.

“He saved a lot of careers,” Banuelos said. “He saved mine.”