Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow fighting through muscle disease

Longtime broadcaster Mike Krukow sets the scene for radio listeners before the Giants take the field in Philadelphia. Longtime broadcaster Mike Krukow sets the scene for radio listeners before the Giants take the field in Philadelphia. Photo: Charles Mostoller, Special To The Chronicle Photo: Charles Mostoller, Special To The Chronicle Image 1 of / 32 Caption Close Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow fighting through muscle disease 1 / 32 Back to Gallery

Mike Krukow says the worst part is falling down.

"There is nothing more humiliating than falling in front of people," says the longtime Giants broadcaster. "The biggest, most stressful thing is thinking about being on the field and falling in front of 40,000 people."

It seems unbelievable. The former pitcher spent 14 seasons in the big leagues, with stops at Chicago, Philadelphia and San Francisco. A strapping 6-5, 200-pound right-hander, he won 124 games, had a 20-win season in 1986 and pitched over 2,100 innings.

Now he says the slightest stumble can knock him off his feet.

Krukow, 62, has kept his condition a secret, but now he's ready to reveal that he's suffering from a degenerative muscle disease called inclusion-body myositis. IBM causes progressive weakness in the muscles of the wrist and fingers, the front of the thigh, and the muscles that lift the front of the foot. There's no cure and no solid theory for what causes it.

When he got the diagnosis eight years ago, he says, the doctor gave him a medical version of good news/bad news.

"He said, 'You're going to need a cane and then you're going to need a walker,' " Krukow recalls. " 'And eventually you may be that old dude riding around in a scooter.' "

The good news?

"You have a muscle disease," he said. "But it is not life-threatening."

Still, it was a jolt.

"It pisses me off every day," Krukow says.

Difficult problem to face

How does a person - especially an athlete, used to depending on a strong body - respond to such news?

Krukow handled it the same way he used to deal with injuries - pretend it's not a problem and hope it goes away.

"Being the strong, muscular athlete he was, this was very difficult to face," says Jennifer Krukow, Mike's wife. "I think he thought, if I just ignore it, it won't get worse. But it has definitely gotten worse."

In the past year, Krukow has begun to wear braces on his legs for support. He carries a walking stick for balance. That's telling, longtime teammate and broadcast partner Duane Kuiper says, because the last thing Krukow wants is to call attention to the disease and become the object of public sympathy.

"You are talking about a guy who used to run the steps at every major-league ballpark," Kuiper said. "Now he can't even go up steps. Guys would ask what's going on, and he'd say, 'Oh, it's my back. Or it's my knees. I'm just an old pitcher.' "

Impossible to ignore

But there was no ignoring it. The low point was in April when he stumbled coming off the team bus in Colorado and took a spill that was so serious he tore the rotator cuff in a shoulder.

"He fell in front of the whole team," Jennifer Krukow said. "Everybody was saying, 'What's wrong with Mike?' "

She and their five children urged Krukow to join a support group - or at least to tell people about his condition.

"He said, 'Do people ask about what's wrong?' " Jennifer said. "I said, 'Mike, they ask me all the time.' He didn't want anyone to know."

Lately, the Krukows have focused on the doctor's mantra: IBM is life-altering, not life-threatening.

After seeing Krukow leave the ballpark in a motorized cart and carrying a cane, I wondered if there was a problem. I got in touch with him last week to ask him about it, and he said he was ready to tell his story.

"We urged Mike to do this, but he wasn't ready," Jennifer said. "I think this is really good that this is happening."

Having said that, everyone stresses that the last thing the perpetually upbeat Krukow wants is a pity party - that's not his style.

"I think he just wants his life to be as normal as possible," Kuiper said. "I can assure you that he doesn't want to be treated any different. If people stop him and say how sorry they are, he doesn't want that. My advice to Giants fans is to treat him like you normally would."

But there's also a physical reason. Krukow has begun to use a golf cart to get out of the ballpark because the press of crowds can be dangerous. His balance is so iffy that even a nudge from well-meaning fans could send him sprawling.

"He has a hard time walking through crowds," Kuiper said. "That's one of the reasons he takes the cart. He can walk fine, he just doesn't want to get knocked down."

That's just one adjustment. Another change is that any downward incline, steps or even ramps, is a problem.

"I am fine uphill, but downhill - a slope of 3 degrees is Mount Everest," Krukow says. "I have to come downstairs backward. It looks like I am shimmying down a rope."

Still eager to play

An avid golfer (a loss of distance on his drives was one reason he suspected he had a problem), he hopes to be able to play again. But what Giants fans might not know is that he is also a gifted musician.

"I play guitar, mandolin, banjo, ukulele," he said. "I can play anything with strings. I'm worried that I am going to lose that."

That would be unfortunate, Jennifer says, because Mike is a "fabulous musician" and the whole family plays instruments and sings. But like everything else, they're prepared to deal with it.

"We just feel so lucky that it isn't something worse," she said. "We are so fortunate. We have a wonderful life. We will be married 40 years in January. Now it is about enjoying our kids and our grandkids. And we love living in San Francisco."

And in case you are wondering, Krukow has no plans to stop broadcasting. He and Kuiper are the consummate soundtrack for baseball in San Francisco - witty, knowledgeable and quirky. Giants fans dress as "Gamer Babes" in hopes of getting singled out in the stands and treat "Kruk and Kuip" like old pals.

Monday they were in Philadelphia, where Krukow spent the 1982 season, to call the game against the Phillies.

On the road, Kuiper has quietly taken up duties as personal Sherpa, toting Krukow's bags - not that anyone is making a big thing of it.

"Well look, I sat next to him on the plane for 25 years," Kuiper said. "If I'm not going to carry his bag, who is?"

"Kuip says he wants to do this until he is 80," Krukow said. "So do I."