Contract Low on List for Davis : Padres: With his father dying of cancer, he has more important things to worry about than where he'll pitch next.

By BOB NIGHTENGALE

Nov. 2, 1989 12 AM PT

TIMES STAFF WRITER

SAN DIEGO — His voice started quivering. He stopped. He opened his mouth to speak again, but as hard as he tried, no words would come out.

For nearly four months, Mark Davis has kept this dark, grim secret to himself. His Padre teammates had no clue. His manager, Jack McKeon, never knew. Not even his best friends were told.

“I just didn’t want people feeling sorry for me,” said Davis, the Padres’ star relief pitcher. “I knew if it ever came out during the season, everyone would be consoling me and asking me about it. And I just didn’t want that.”

But now, with reporters, agents and attorneys telephoning his house at all hours since Monday night, when he filed for free agency, Davis has asked to have his privacy respected.

It’s not that he wants to trivialize the importance of where he will play next season, but at this particular time, Davis could care less if he throws another pitch the rest of his life.

You see, his father is dying of cancer.

And after months of praying and hoping that these new experimental treatments would cure him, Davis has succumbed to reality.

“For a long time, I refused to believe it,” Davis said, his voice cracking, “but now I know he’s going to die.”

The tumor in Kenneth Davis was originally discovered three years ago. It was diagnosed as prostate cancer. The family was told not to be alarmed, and after radiation treatments kept the tumor from increasing, the Davis household was optimistic.

“We always kept a positive outlook, believing it would go away,” Davis said. “My mother is deeply religious, and I think we all had faith everything would be all right.”

But earlier this year, the cancer began spreading. It raced through his thighs, chest and finally to his head.

“Mark and I really didn’t know how bad it was,” said Candy Davis, Mark’s wife, “because they really downplayed it. When we saw him in April, he looked good, sounded good and felt good. When he had his bad days, they always told us he had a cold, or he had the flu, or something else like that.

“It was like they didn’t want Mark to know; they wanted to spare him.”

Davis indeed pitched as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He recorded a save in each of his first 11 appearances and had 22 saves by the All-Star break.

When he was informed in July that he was selected to the National League All-Star team by Dodger Manager Tommy Lasorda, he immediately was on the phone to his father.

“I wanted to make the All-Star team more than anything I’ve ever wanted,” Davis said, “because I knew it might be the last time my dad would ever see me pitch in one. Since the All-Star Game was in Anaheim, and my folks live in Sacramento, I thought my dad would feel strong enough to make it.”

But it was at the All-Star Game that Davis learned just how ill his father had become. He had lost 25 pounds since Mark had last seen him in April, and the cancer had stripped away most of his strength.

“I saw him a day before the All-Star Game,” Candy Davis said, “and I couldn’t believe it. I was shocked. He had gone so far downhill in just two months. I really didn’t know if he could even make it to the game.”

With the All-Star workout during the day on Monday and festivities at night, Mark never had the opportunity to see his father until Tuesday after the game.

By that time, Candy had been able to prepare him for the jolt.

“I said, ‘Mark, your dad’s been sick lately,’ “Candy said, “ ‘he’s lost a lot of weight. He’s very weak.’ ”

Kenneth Davis, 63, was so weak, in fact, that he nearly missed the chance to see his son pitch. He was taken to a first-aid station after the first inning and laid on a cot for several innings until he regained his strength.

“I think the excitement, the heat and everything just got to him,” Candy Davis said.

Kenneth Davis, ignoring the advice of the nurses and first-aid attendants, refused to be detoured now. He did not travel nine hours to listen on the radio as his son pitched in an All-Star Game. If Mark was going to be pitching, he was going to be right there watching him.

When Mark entered the game in the sixth, there Kenneth Davis was, sitting on the edge of his seat. There could not have been a prouder papa, either, when Mark pitched a one-two-three inning, climaxed with his strike out of Bo Jackson.

“You know, to this day, he still talks about the time Mark struck out Bo Jackson,” Candy Davis said. “It just thrilled him so much.”

When Mark saw his father after the game, and the deterioration that the cancer has caused, his eyes watered but he kept from crying. It wasn’t until later, after he was alone with his wife, that he broke down.

“You know, I never had anyone close to me die before,” Davis said. “I had a grandmother who died when I was young, but I really didn’t know her too well. I think she was 94 or 96.

“But my dad, he’s only 63. He hasn’t had a chance to see my daughters (ages 3 years and 7 months) grow up, develop their own personalities. It just doesn’t seem fair.”

The original plan this off-season, Davis said, was to spend as much time as possible with his father, allowing his daughters time to know their grandfather before he no longer is around.

Last week changed everything.

Kenneth Davis was admitted to intensive care.

Mark took the first flight to Sacramento, and stayed with his father until Tuesday morning. He took a flight to Phoenix, Ariz., to be with his kids for Halloween and plans to return to Sacramento today to be with his father for the duration.

“I don’t think I even saw one inning of these last two games of the World Series,” Davis said, “it’s just been so hectic. The whole family was there, and I spent a lot of nights with my dad in the hospital. There’s so much to do now, a lot of business that needs to be taken care of. I’ve got to . . . “

His voice broke off.

All of the baseball experience in the world doesn’t teach you how to prepare for death. There’s no one to tell you how to go about making funeral arrangements, and no remedy to ease the pain of watching precious life seeping out of someone while tears stream down your face.

“That’s the hardest part,” Candy Davis said. “We all know it’s inevitable now.”

Kenneth Davis was given permission to go home Wednesday. A hospital bed will be awaiting. The family will be by his side.

“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through,” Mark said. “All of the pain my father is going through right now, I just wish I could take some of it away from him.”

During the season, it seemed so easy. All Kenneth Davis asked from his son was for him to ignore his illness and be the best relief pitcher in the game.

Mark did just that, obtaining a major-league 44 saves while winning the Rolaids Relief Man of the Year award. In a couple of weeks, he’ll learn if he’ll have a Cy Young Award to go along with it.

“That was a very hard time for Mark,” Candy Davis said, “because he was constantly worrying about his dad. But it was like the game was an outlet for him. When he crossed that white line, he was able to concentrate on baseball and forget for a little while about the other problems.

“Now, of course, no one’s thinking about anything else.”

Davis apologizes to the Padres and their fans, who are anxiously waiting for him to decide with whom he’ll sign his next contract. But they’ll have to wait a little longer.

“I hope the people of San Diego understand,” Davis said, “but I’m really not in the mood to think about that stuff right now. I’d like to see something worked out between us and the Padres, but there’s a lot of things that will enter my decision. Money definitely will not be the deciding factor, and I’ve always considered that the Padre fans were the greatest I’ve ever seen.

“This is the first time, and maybe only time, I’ll ever be a free agent. I just want to be able to explore all my options and see what’s going on.

“It’s just that right now, I don’t have time to think about it. It’s just not that important to me right now.

“What’s important is my father. I want to be there for my father. Please, I hope everybody can understand that.”