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Deaf pitcher hopes arm will do his talking
Mask removal is mandatory for catchers going to the mound this spring to talk with Ryan Ketchner.
While the Toronto Blue Jays pitching prospect has Ketch tattooed on the back side of his right arm, he also has a similar athletic build to most aspiring major leaguers and the same hands-on-hips pose typically seen near the end of conditioning drills. So the 25-year-old non-roster invitee looks like very much like every other pitcher on the practice field at the Bobby Mattick Training Center.
Only up close can you see the hearing aids hooked over each of his ears that allow the left-hander about 10 per cent hearing ability, letting him sense vibrations but not hear words that he takes in by being an expert lip reader.
Ketchner was born deaf.
"I'm comfortable, if they take off their mask, I read lips, then you're fine," he said when asked about the challenges of strategy meetings with catchers or knowing which teammates are calling for a fly ball. "The pop-ups, you don't have to worry about it. Any fielder can catch it."
For those speaking to him for the first time, it can be hard to understand what Ketchner is saying. But the challenges communicating with the hearing world have certainly not kept Ketchner from being able to pitch.
Ketchner, Seattle's 10th-round pick in the 2000 draft, was the USA Deaf Sports Federation male athlete of the year in 2003 when he went 14-7 with a 3.45 earned-run average and won playoff MVP honours for the California League-champion Inland Empire 66ers, a Class-A affiliate of the Mariners.
Traded to the Dodgers organization before the 2004 season, Ketchner was a Southern League all-star with Double-A Jacksonville (Fla.) that year when he went 8-7 with a 3.02 ERA in 21 starts.
But after one successful start at Triple-A, a nerve problem in his pitching elbow was followed by Tommy John surgery in May 2005. Ketchner missed all of that year and the Dodgers let him go following a brief comeback in 2006.
He bottomed out last season when he went 1-11 with a 5.62 ERA in 19 starts for San Diego's Triple-A team in Las Vegas.
Ketchner was out of work for when his agent, Joe Strosser, began calling teams in the off-season.
Blue Jays director of player personnel Tony LaCava was interested - not as part of token effort to take in a charity case, but in a left-handed starter who throws 87-90 miles per hour with a change-up as his bread-and-butter pitch.
"Our scouts that saw him liked him," LaCava said. "His innings, his hits, his walks and his strikeouts, they weren't 1-11 type peripherals. That, coupled with the fact we liked him in the past, was like, 'Well, let's give him a shot.' And that's why he's here."
Ketchner believes last season to be a fluke, caused by the lingering effects of surgery and scar tissue that was breaking down.
"It feels a lot better," he said. "I can tell this year I'm more ready. I think this year I have more control than last year."
If Ketchner makes it to the big leagues, it is believed he would be the first hearing-impaired major league pitcher since Luther Taylor wrapped up his nine-year career with the New York Giants in 1908.
He would also follow in the footsteps of his mentor and friend Curtis Pride, the deaf outfielder who played for eight major-league teams over an 11-year career that ended in 2006.
The two met when at spring training in West Palm Beach, Fla. when Pride was playing for the Montreal Expos. They still keep in touch.
"He said 'You too, man'," recalled Ketchner as he stood sweating outside the big-league clubhouse that is his office for now. "He said don't worry about the other people, what they're saying."
It is a message Ketchner wants to pass along to young people who share his nearly silent life.
"I love to talk to kids and make sure they know to do what they love to do," he said. "That it's possible to do anything."
Ketchner claims he does not tire of the story of "the deaf pitcher." But ultimately he wants to be defined by the things he can do rather than what he cannot do.
"I don't even think about being 'the deaf pitcher,' " he said, mimicking his questioner's air quotes. "I want to be a guy who pitched a good game."
Mask removal is mandatory for catchers going to the mound this spring to talk with Ryan Ketchner.
While the Toronto Blue Jays pitching prospect has Ketch tattooed on the back side of his right arm, he also has a similar athletic build to most aspiring major leaguers and the same hands-on-hips pose typically seen near the end of conditioning drills. So the 25-year-old non-roster invitee looks like very much like every other pitcher on the practice field at the Bobby Mattick Training Center.
Only up close can you see the hearing aids hooked over each of his ears that allow the left-hander about 10 per cent hearing ability, letting him sense vibrations but not hear words that he takes in by being an expert lip reader.
Ketchner was born deaf.
"I'm comfortable, if they take off their mask, I read lips, then you're fine," he said when asked about the challenges of strategy meetings with catchers or knowing which teammates are calling for a fly ball. "The pop-ups, you don't have to worry about it. Any fielder can catch it."
For those speaking to him for the first time, it can be hard to understand what Ketchner is saying. But the challenges communicating with the hearing world have certainly not kept Ketchner from being able to pitch.
Ketchner, Seattle's 10th-round pick in the 2000 draft, was the USA Deaf Sports Federation male athlete of the year in 2003 when he went 14-7 with a 3.45 earned-run average and won playoff MVP honours for the California League-champion Inland Empire 66ers, a Class-A affiliate of the Mariners.
Traded to the Dodgers organization before the 2004 season, Ketchner was a Southern League all-star with Double-A Jacksonville (Fla.) that year when he went 8-7 with a 3.02 ERA in 21 starts.
But after one successful start at Triple-A, a nerve problem in his pitching elbow was followed by Tommy John surgery in May 2005. Ketchner missed all of that year and the Dodgers let him go following a brief comeback in 2006.
He bottomed out last season when he went 1-11 with a 5.62 ERA in 19 starts for San Diego's Triple-A team in Las Vegas.
Ketchner was out of work for when his agent, Joe Strosser, began calling teams in the off-season.
Blue Jays director of player personnel Tony LaCava was interested - not as part of token effort to take in a charity case, but in a left-handed starter who throws 87-90 miles per hour with a change-up as his bread-and-butter pitch.
"Our scouts that saw him liked him," LaCava said. "His innings, his hits, his walks and his strikeouts, they weren't 1-11 type peripherals. That, coupled with the fact we liked him in the past, was like, 'Well, let's give him a shot.' And that's why he's here."
Ketchner believes last season to be a fluke, caused by the lingering effects of surgery and scar tissue that was breaking down.
"It feels a lot better," he said. "I can tell this year I'm more ready. I think this year I have more control than last year."
If Ketchner makes it to the big leagues, it is believed he would be the first hearing-impaired major league pitcher since Luther Taylor wrapped up his nine-year career with the New York Giants in 1908.
He would also follow in the footsteps of his mentor and friend Curtis Pride, the deaf outfielder who played for eight major-league teams over an 11-year career that ended in 2006.
The two met when at spring training in West Palm Beach, Fla. when Pride was playing for the Montreal Expos. They still keep in touch.
"He said 'You too, man'," recalled Ketchner as he stood sweating outside the big-league clubhouse that is his office for now. "He said don't worry about the other people, what they're saying."
It is a message Ketchner wants to pass along to young people who share his nearly silent life.
"I love to talk to kids and make sure they know to do what they love to do," he said. "That it's possible to do anything."
Ketchner claims he does not tire of the story of "the deaf pitcher." But ultimately he wants to be defined by the things he can do rather than what he cannot do.
"I don't even think about being 'the deaf pitcher,' " he said, mimicking his questioner's air quotes. "I want to be a guy who pitched a good game."