JOHNSON CITY, Tenn. -- Suddenly, life couldn't be easier for Rick Ankiel.

Two hours before he takes the mound for the rookie-league Johnson City Cardinals, Ankiel is in the clubhouse playing ping-pong. He's wearing a blue T-shirt, shorts and a wide smile. Behind him is a bowl of goldfish in his locker with a sign above it saying, "We need water! NOW!"

To Ankiel's left is a table with a jar of Jif, Welch's grape jelly, two loaves of white bread, tongue depressors for spreading, apples and bananas. To his right are several shopping carts borrowed from a local grocery store. Ankiel slams home a winner and grins even wider.

In a setting more like sleep-away camp than professional baseball, Rick Ankiel is a kid again.

Last season he was a 21-year-old prodigy, pitching in the playoffs for the St. Louis Cardinals, then somehow spiraling into an ever-worsening nightmare of wild pitches, short outings, ridiculously high ERAs, and demotions. This season he is a 22-year-old veteran, worshipped by fans and teammates. He is by far the most relaxed individual in this musty clubhouse. "He's the king of cut-up," says 22-year-old catcher Mike Levy.

ESPN looks at the rise and fall of the Cardinals Rick Ankiel

While those around him -- all around his age, many younger -- sweat through their first summer as pro athletes, Ankiel cruises through the college experience he never had. This summer he has tackled opposing mascots, donned a Sumo fat suit before a game, joked with umps, and forced three rookies to spend a two-hour bus ride in blouses, skirts and hosiery.

"I'm just doing what every other pitcher here is doing," he says curtly. "Getting ready for every fifth day."

And every fifth day is better than the last. He will take the mound tonight with a 1.10 ERA and 96 strikeouts in 49 innings pitched. His games have become more efficient by the outing, going in just a month-and-a-half from 96 throws in six innings to 95 pitches in eight innings. He is king of the hill and the big man on campus.

A few months ago, he was a mess.

Ankiel roared into the 2000 postseason as NL Rookie of the Year runner-up and arguably the hottest pitcher in the game. He finished his season with St. Louis with a 4-0 record and a 2.36 ERA over his final 10 starts, completing an amazing 11-7, 194-strikeout year. On Oct. 3, he became the second-youngest pitcher ever to start a playoff Game 1 when he took the ball for the NLDS opener against Atlanta.

He was 21. And then, in an instant, he looked it.

Ankiel threw nine wild pitches in four innings, including a record five in the third. Most felt it was a fluke -- a rare case of nerves for the cocksure Florida boy. Then Ankiel began this season with a 7.13 ERA and 25 walks in 24 innings.

The Cards sent him down to Triple-A Memphis, where he started three games and lasted only 4 1/3 innings. Ankiel walked 17 and threw 12 wild pitches. His ERA was 20.77.

On June 16, he got off the bus here in sleepy Johnson City, where low-round draft picks just out of high school and college earn $850 a month and take turns holding the radar gun behind home plate. Ankiel now faces teams from places like Elizabethton and Pulaski. When he's not throwing, he sometimes takes a spot in the batting order, just for fun. He is as far from the majors as possible.

As Ankiel dresses, fans flock to Howard Johnson Field. Nearly 2,000 locals pay $3 to sit close enough to the diamond to hear the snap of Ankiel's fingers when he unleashes his head-to-knees curve. GM Vance Spinks -- the Cards' only full-time employee -- orders 16 pizzas to sell to fans, when on a normal night he does not even need six. Spinks will have to order nine more during the game. The Cards' two ushers, Don and Jackie Stephens, 65 and 64, direct traffic and then watch most customers shift down the right-field line to watch Ankiel warm up in a bullpen protected only by a chain-link fence.

He wears No. 24, but with no name on the back. No need.

The P.A. announcer -- Tyler, age 16 -- introduces the Cards' starting pitcher and sets off a wave of cheers. Fans here heckled him at the beginning of the summer, but now await each delivery in an almost eerie silence, gasping and whooping when his curveball breaks in on batters who can't tell if the pitch is desperately wild or devastatingly accurate. He is the show from the Show -- Bon Jovi performing in the parking lot of the local Wawa.

Ankiel wears the calf-high striped socks he flashed in the majors, working quickly and without any visible emotion (the game is over in two hours). He rarely waves off a sign from 19-year-old Yadier Molina, who catches all his games and is the team's second-best -- and probably only other -- hope for the bigs. (Molina has two brothers in the majors -- Jose and Ben, both with the Angels.)

"It's a great honor to catch a big-leaguer," Molina says after Ankiel's win. "He's improved a great deal. He's ready to go back."

Ankiel's opponents, the Martinsville Astros, can only guess fastball and swing quickly. Too late. They tap nubbers to the opposite side of the infield when they make contact. Ankiel pitches eight innings for his fourth win, scattering four hits, allowing two unearned runs (both scored after he threw wild to first on a comebacker to the mound), and striking out 14. No wild pitches, no walks.

After the game, Astros centerfielder Jake Whitesides would sit in his locker with a Coke in his hand and a stunned look on his face. The 20-year-old got a chance to test himself against major-league talent, and he K'd twice in three at-bats.

"He didn't throw anything I could hit," Whitesides said with a sad smile. Ankiel has more than twice as many strikeouts as anyone else in the Appalachian League. He has walked only 11.

Ankiel does not come out for the ninth, handing the ball over to 20-year-old Joe Rogers for the save. When fans see the much slighter hurler (at 180, Rogers is 30 pounds lighter than Ankiel) take the hill, they head for the aisles as if the game is over. Many rush to the door of the Cards' clubhouse, hoping to catch a glimpse of the former and perhaps future major leaguer.

Beth Middendorf, a college junior wearing an Ankiel T-shirt, is just one. She woke up this morning at 5 to make the nine-hour drive from St. Louis to see her hero. Then she sat as close to the Cards dugout as she could, craning her neck to the right to peer inside when the home team batted. She holds a major league baseball for Ankiel to sign. But Ankiel, who usually gives his autograph to everyone -- except for that one gentleman who actually ran into the dugout to ask Ankiel for his scribble -- ducks out the back door of the clubhouse and leaves for a local pool hall.

An intern for the Cardinals breaks the bad news to the throng. Middendorf sulks and heads for her car. About a half-hour later, tonight's winning pitcher is eating with teammates, watching sports and carousing with fans. Easy.

And that's the point. Rick Ankiel cannot possibly fail here. He can experiment with his mechanics -- release point is what he's worked on the most -- and his pace without worrying about hitters taking advantage. Not one teammate has admitted to seeing him rattled even for an instant. "He's calm no matter what's going on," says 18-year-old starter John Killalea.

And coaches are seeing a new man.

"I saw a Rick that was very different in spring training," says pitching coach and former major leaguer Sid Monge. "Here, this is the Rick that started in the major leagues. He's got a lot of movement and consistency. We gotta remember, he's only 22 -- an advanced teen. I see a more mature Rick -- a guy trying to overcome whatever it may be."

Monge thinks Ankiel is ready. Teammates think he's ready. But the call has not come, and Ankiel does not seem to mind.

"It's been great," he told a reporter after Tuesday's win. "I'm happy to be here."

The big club does call the next day, but not for Ankiel. At just after 2, Cards reliever Dan Shouse gets summoned into manager Chris Maloney's office and told he is being brought up to Class A Peoria. Shouse, visibly stunned, hurries to his locker to call his parents in St. Louis. Then after coming back to the clubhouse, he finds a ball and brings it to Ankiel to sign.

Only about 100 people sit in the stands to watch Nick Plancich (at 22, another rookie older than Ankiel) take the mound against Bluefield on Wednesday night. But they get to see Ankiel too -- batting third at DH. With a man on in the bottom of the first, Ankiel walks to the plate, places his left foot on the back chalk line of the batter's box, cocks his left elbow and looks out at 21-year-old David Cruthers. Ankiel swings at the first pitch, sending it high over the Dr. Enuf sign in left field into the parking lot outside the Johnson City rec center.

"Awesome!" yells a scout, loud enough for everyone -- including Ankiel -- to hear. The former Cardinal does not smile as he rounds the bases. It is Ankiel's sixth home run of the season, even though he's batted only 54 times. He is now tied for the team lead.

Ankiel waltzes across the plate to the dugout, removes his helmet and takes his regular seat by the water cooler. A teammate comes by to congratulate him and inquire about the rare opposite field shot.

"I was thinking changeup," Ankiel says with a shrug, "and he threw a fastball."

Easy enough.

Eric Adelson is an associate editor at ESPN The Magazine. E-mail eric.adelson@espnmag.com.