Friday, May 30, 2003 | 10:37 a.m.
Older brother Tony, an infielder, first attracted Wilson Alvarez to baseball on the dirty streets of Maracaibo, Venezuela, and Alvarez quickly became addicted to pitching.
The southpaw first smoked bottle caps by buddies swinging broom handles when he was 7, a movement that undoubtedly helped him hone a wicked cutting fastball that has extended his career.
From dodging vehicles between pitches to forging his first glove out of a cardboard box, Alvarez endured much hardship in his poverty-stricken hometown to catch the eyes of the Texas Rangers.
Now, no pitcher from Venezuela owns more major league victories than Alvarez's 88.
"Well, what can I say?" Alvarez said. "There's been a lot of effort, a lot of years of hard work. A lot of frustrations. A lot of happiness, too. Good moments. Tough moments. The injuries, all that stuff. But I never gave up. I just kept playing.
"I like the game, man. I especially hope my kids, and other young people, learn from that -- just keep going, keep working, do what you like to do and just keep working hard, even if you don't succeed you have to keep trying. That's why I am here."
Alvarez sat, sweating, after a late-morning workout at Cashman Field on Memorial Day. Only an equipment hand stirred as the temperature climbed by the minute.
Alvarez, 33, was the first player on the field. He stretched, then sprinted at varying distances along the outfield warning track. By the time he finished his work and completed an interview, there was still no other player in sight.
"Just trying to do my job, working," Alvarez said. "It's what I'm used to. In the big leagues, this is how you have to do it. This is not just a game, this is a job, too. The team pays you to do it, so you do it like a professional.
"To be a professional, you have to work hard."
One other thing.
"You also have to have fun," he said, "and enjoy this game."
Observers might not catch it, but Alvarez loves to have fun on the mound. He will even poke fun at himself when he makes a mistake, talking aloud as he encircles the mound. He goofs off in the clubhouse, and he takes jokes as well as he gives them.
That comes from Maracaibo, pronounced mare-a-SEE-bow.
"The people from my hometown are a little different than the rest of the country, because our Spanish is a little different," Alvarez said. "People just live the moment. They just enjoy life. They're happy people, and they just live the moment. Know what I mean?"
They don't worry much about tomorrow or yesterday?
"Yes, they just worry about what's going on today," he said. "Enjoy the moment. They're kind of loud and joke around. They're fun. Maybe I don't show it, but I like to have fun. I don't smile that much, I guess."
Maracaibo is tucked in the northwest section of the country, between the Caribbean Sea and Lake Maracaibo, whose vast oil and urban pollution has been a concern for government officials for decades.
Another major problem has been the cocaine, marijuana and heroin that is trafficked from nearby Colombia to the U.S.
The highlight of Alvarez's 11 years, with four teams, in the majors was the no-hitter he tossed for the Chicago White Sox, against Baltimore, on Aug. 11, 1991. At 21 years, four months, he was the eighth-youngest pitcher to throw a no-no.
The performance, however, had greater significance for Wilson and his wife, Daihanna, who lost a five-day-old baby boy to a lung infection on Aug. 11, 1990.
"It was a gift from God," Alvarez said of the no-hitter. "After I got that last out, I looked up to the sky and said, 'Thank you, God.' That was it. I didn't do anything else. In that moment, all I had on my mind was my baby.
"I always say that was a gift God gave me ... He took my baby."
Alvarez signed a $35-million, five-year deal with Tampa Bay, then threw the first pitch in Devil Rays history on March 31, 1998, against Detroit.
"Too bad it was a ball," he said.
Much worse, he did not heed early signals that his body was in pain after the 1999 season. What started as minor irritation grew in intensity, but Alvarez threw through it. By the next spring training, the pain hit a crescendo.
He had torn both his left rotator cuff and labrum muscle. He had surgery three years ago, battled to return to the Tampa Bay roster last season and went 2-3, with a 5.28 ERA, with one save in 75 innings.
"Instead of taking care of that small tear, I kept pitching," Alvarez said. "I started using pain killers, which made it worse. Rehabbing was so tough, one day you feel good and the next you feel real bad.
"To those guys who are coming up now, if you feel something take care of it right away. Don't play with it. Don't make it worse. I hope a lot of guys learn from that."
They would also benefit by learning how Alvarez makes that four-seam cutter -- which stuns 51s general manager Don Logan when he watches up-close from behind the plate -- dance.
That pitch has helped Alvarez go 5-0, with a 1.13 ERA, for the 51s. He has walked five and struck out 30 in 40 innings, and he has allowed only 29 hits.
He hopes the four-seamer will be his ticket to the Dodgers, whom he believes can make a deep run in the playoffs. He is only pitching today to complete his career with a World Series ring.
Alvarez, though, only offers a bemused look when asked about that pitch. He has no idea how he does it. He thinks losing velocity, from the mid-90s (mph) to the mid-80s, has added action to his four-seamer.
"I'm not even trying to make it move," he said. "I just throw the ball. And it moves, for some reason. The ball just moves. Hopefully, that pitch sends me back to the big leagues."
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