Paul Daugherty

pdaugherty@enquirer.com

GOODYEAR, AZ – He loved the home run, as much as any he'd ever hit. It was a spring training home run, against a starting pitcher who'd only be around a few innings, yet another pitcher there to "work on a few things.'' March moments are insignificant, by themselves. Everything builds. Unless you are Ryan Ludwick, this March, in which case every moment matters.

"I've been trying to hit a home run since my first at-bat here,'' he said. Not long ago, Ludwick confided to Joey Votto, "I just want to crush a ball, to show everyone I still have it. I know I have it. But just because I know doesn't mean (management) knows. It doesn't mean you know, or the fans know.

"This isn't a normal spring training for me. This is about proving I'm back.''

Ludwick has been back so many times: Six major surgeries, the first coming at age 23, when he broke his hip, and had an eight-inch titanium rod inserted in his leg. This comeback is not like the others, because it just might be his last. Ludwick will be 36 in July, and when you are 36 and a professional athlete, career sunset is more than a concept.

He worked all winter to hit the home run he hit Tuesday. It soared like a pro golfer's tee shot, gaining velocity and altitude as it went, until it disappeared behind the Kansas City Royals bullpen at Surprise Stadium. The homer took strength he didn't have last season, muscle he had to regain in his surgically fixed right shoulder.

It represented all Ludwick did in the offseason, and all he has become as a player. "I want to open up eyes here. I want to prove I belong,'' he said. "I feel like a rookie. Am I saying I want to be the all-star caliber player I was in 2008? Maybe not. But the mentality I have tells me yes. Yes, I do want to be that player.''

When it comes to careers, athletes know at 35 what the rest of us discover at 65. There comes a point in any career where talent and passion intersect at a sweet spot in time, and anything seems possible. For Ludwick, that might have been '08, when he hit 37 homers and owned an OPS of .966.

There comes a different time, too, when the talent wanes and the experience takes center stage. A time when you know all that must be done, but your body won't always allow it. When knowing how to play the game counts as much as your ability to play it. That's where Ludwick is now.

It's not a bad place. Scott Rolen found it here, in 2010.

Ludwick described it this way:

"My ability isn't the same, but I play the game the same way. At my age, you're better when it comes to the thought process of the game. You've seen so many pitches. You've read so many balls off the bat in the outfield. You've been on the bases so many more times.

"I'm not physically at my peak. But I'm confident, and as strong as I can possibly be, at this age.''

I asked Ludwick what the 35-year-old Ryan would tell the 25-year-old Ryan. There isn't a ballplayer alive who didn't trust his immortality as a rookie. They all think this great life will never end, until one day they start hurting in places they never hurt before, and their reaction time slows enough that a kid throwing heat has them swinging late at a creampuff fastball right down the middle.

That's when mortality becomes palpable.

"I'd tell 25-yeat-old Ryan to avoid the surgeries,'' Ludwick joked.

Can he still play? That's everyone else's question. It's Ludwick's, too, though he answers it differently. "The injuries bring back the passion,'' he said. The desire to rally once more, to Show The World, gets him out of bed each morning.

In truth, Ludwick only knows how good he feels right now, and how hard he worked to earn the feeling. He does not know how big an impact any of it will make. He lost most of an entire season, at age 35. Reaching back, all the way to 2008, or even 2012, is a mighty task.

He wondered aloud to his wife over the winter, "What if I'd never gotten hurt? Could I have been a perennial all star? A Hall of Famer? Could I have played until I was 43?''

They were idle questions, and didn't deter him from the now. Because when you are 35, the now is all that matters. Ryan Ludwick loved the home run Tuesday. It spoke to who he was.

"The way the ball is jumping,'' he decided, "it's been a different ballgame this year.''