Only a fraction of that respect stems from the 22 homers that have Ankiel tied for the Pacific Coast League lead entering today.

The rest is born from knowing the roller coaster story of how one of baseball's most promising left-handers since Sandy Koufax was mocked as his pitching career inexplicably disintegrated.

What sets Ankiel apart — and makes him the leading vote-getter for the July 11 Class AAA All-Star Game — is the distinction of reinventing himself at 27 as a pitcher-turned-outfielder in the St. Louis Cardinals' farm system.

Ankiel says he latched onto the phrase "life's about recreating yourself" after reading it in an inspirational book brought to him by his wife, Lory, whom he married within the past year.

"I liked it," says Ankiel as he sits in the Redbirds dugout. "Sometimes I use it. It's true, you know?"

Perhaps, but it hasn't been a universal truth for failing pitchers. There's no official list of the few players who began their major-league careers on the mound and ended elsewhere on the diamond. But by September, Ankiel is virtually certain to join Babe Ruth and others in what clearly is a select group.

The perseverance that made it happen is what got those Iowans out of their seats, yet the surrealism of that field-of-dreams moment was largely lost on Ankiel.

"I almost didn't even notice," says Ankiel, more focused on making sure the ball reached the bleachers to give him his first three-homer game. "It almost felt like I was just floating around those bases. It's something I decided to enjoy. You know it's not going to happen every day."

Maybe that's the exact truth. But after what Ankiel endured during epic meltdowns in 2000 and 2001, one can't help but wonder if he has developed the most selective hearing.

A 97-mph fastball rocketed Ankiel to the majors at 20, and in his first full season the next year he was the 2000 runner-up for National League Rookie of the Year. But his flameout began in the 2000 playoffs with a record five wild pitches in an inning of the division series opener. He uncorked two in the first inning of Game 2 of the NL Championship Series and another pair in relief in Game 5.

His 2001 season began with 25 walks in 24 innings, which punched Ankiel's ticket back to the minors. There, matters somehow worsened. In back-to-back starts he never got out of the first inning, throwing a combined nine wild pitches.

Redbirds broadcaster Steve Selby doesn't relish the memory from the second of those games, in Nashville.

"What I remember is that he had Hall of Fame stuff in the bullpen before the game. Everything was just perfect. Curveball, fastball, it didn't matter," Selby says. "Then he went out, and it just wasn't there. It was a helpless feeling.

"What I also remember is that the fans at Greer Stadium behind the plate were just relentless in letting him have it. It was wrong. It was kicking a guy when he's down. I was glad when they got him out of the game."

Eight pitches sailed to the backstop in the first of those games. ESPN chronicled both episodes in detail. Ankiel's lingering resentment was made clear last week when, according to the Redbirds media relations department, he rejected at least four interview requests from the sports network.

Ankiel has been cooperative but reserved with print media. He politely declines to revisit that tortuously wild period that sent him tumbling to Class A.

"It's the past," Ankiel says. "I don't really like talking about it. I'll deal with today and the future and go from there. The past is the past. You can't change it. It is what it is."

Problems not uncommon

Redbirds pitching coach Dyar Miller says the total loss of control that hit Ankiel isn't uncommon, but seeing that implosion on the postseason stage was.

"It happens to a lot of pitchers, more than you would think, but you don't hear about it because it doesn't happen in the big leagues," Miller says. "We've got a couple right now with that problem."

Ensuing injuries crushed any hopes Ankiel had of regaining his pitching form. Elbow problems plagued him in 2002-03, leading to Tommy John surgery to replace ligaments. In late 2004 he worked his way back to the majors and earned a victory in relief, but elbow pain resurfaced.

Ankiel walked out of St. Louis' 2005 spring training camp, planning to retire, but was talked into trying the outfield by Cardinals general manager Walt Jocketty. That climb from Class A was derailed for all of 2006 by a knee injury.

Still concerned about that setback, Ankiel says he will rest the knee rather than play in the Class AAA All-Star Game. "I can't thank them enough, for everybody who voted for me," he says. "I didn't expect to be this far along, and I'm honored."

Elite company

For students of baseball history, a compelling part of Ankiel's rebirth is that players who have successfully made the pitcher-to-outfielder transition have tended to be downright remarkable in some regard.

Besides Ruth, it was accomplished in the first half of the 20th century by 34-game winner "Smoky" Joe Wood and .398-hitter Lefty O'Doul.

Also credit Stan Musial, with an asterisk. The Cardinals' Hall of Famer was signed as a pitcher but began his conversion in the minors, after a serious 1940 injury to his throwing shoulder.

It's also intriguing that the pitcher-turner-outfielder scenario is part of the fantasy that shrouds the mythical Roy Hobbs in "The Natural." Robert Redford brought that character to life on the screen. If Ankiel had been available as a stunt double, he perhaps could have eased the special-effect crew's work on the film's signature home run, which soars into the lights and bursts bulbs.

Against the Round Rock (Texas) Express on May 28, Ankiel launched a worthy imitation of that Hollywood homer that Redbirds hitting coach Rick Eckstein says flew 530 feet.

"How many guys can hit a ball like that?" asks Eckstein, brother of Cardinals shortstop and 2006 World Series MVP David Eckstein. "Literally, as soon as the ball touched the bat, everyone in the dugout was going 'Oooh.' Usually, it takes a second or two, but this one, there was no doubt."

The only Redbird who wasn't impressed, Rick Eckstein says, was Ankiel.

"He expected to do that," Eckstein says. "Then he hit another home run right after that, in the same game. He knows he can do that."

Cardinals taking time

Two things are keeping Ankiel from getting called up sooner than September, when the MLB roster limit swells to 40. The first is Ankiel is out of options. If he were called up and sent back to the minors, the Cardinals would risk losing their long-term investment to other clubs claiming Ankiel on waivers. The second: Ankiel is still a raw and inexperienced hitter after missing all of 2006.

"He's behind a lot of other guys," Redbirds manager Chris Maloney says. "The more at-bats, the better. Experience is going to be the key thing for him."

Being out of options meant Ankiel was passed over June 18, when Cardinals outfielder Jim Edmonds went on the disabled list with a pinched nerve.

"It's important for me to be out there every day," Ankiel says. "I don't know if it necessarily will be helpful for me to go up there and play once or twice a week."

Ankiel, batting .272 entering today with 63 strikeouts in 261 at-bats, has had some rough patches.

He was 0-for-11 in three games before breaking out of the slump with his 22nd homer yesterday at the New Orleans Zephyrs, with his 22nd homer. In a June series against the Nashville Sounds, who generally are regarded as having the PCL's best pitching, Ankiel was 0-for-13 with nine strikeouts.

Against Nashville, Eckstein concedes, Ankiel "probably got himself out a few times." Ankiel acknowledges his anxiousness at the plate has led to a surplus of strikeouts and a minimum of walks - just 14 in 69 games.

"I need to improve on being consistent, maybe taking a few more walks or trying to make sure I get pitches in the locations I'm looking for, instead of being so aggressive," Ankiel says.

Of his anticipated return to the majors, Ankiel doesn't say much beyond, "Obviously, I'll be antsy."

Danny Sheaffer, who has worked off and on with Ankiel since he turned pro, doesn't expect nerves to be a problem when he returns to the majors. "Either he's a very good actor or else he's a lot stronger between the ears than people think," says Sheaffer, a former Cardinals catcher who managed Ankiel in Memphis and now coaches with Round Rock.

Given baseball-savvy St. Louis' appreciation for history, Sheaffer predicts Ankiel's initial standing ovation at Busch Stadium will erupt during batting practice: "I think the place is going to explode. There isn't anybody who doesn't want to cheer for Rick Ankiel."

Ankiel's first at-bat, Sheaffer says, "Might be a long one. He might have to step out, wipe away a few tears and wave his hat."