Screw it, Paul Wilson decided. Demoted last June to middle-relief work for the Devil Rays -- a pitcher's purgatory if there ever was one -- Wilson removed the rubber sleeve that kept his fragile right elbow from exploding and literally tossed it in the trash.

"We're done. We're done worrying about it," he said, almost out loud, right there in Tropicana Field's home clubhouse. "If it's gonna break, who cares? Let's go."

	Paul Wilson Starting Pitcher Tampa Bay Devil Rays Profile
	2002 SEASON STATISTICS GM W-L IP H K ERA 2 1-0 15 13 9 1.20

How much worse could it get, anyway? Five years after his prized right arm began to ache as a Mets rookie in 1996, after a half-decade of shoulder surgery and elbow surgery and promise dashed and decimated, Wilson had become all but a ghost of his former self, a walking reminder of what he could have been. He was the former No. 1 overall pick. The one who got hurt. The one who kept getting hurt. Again and again and again.

Just when it all seemed the worst last year -- he felt healthy but was getting rocked, yielding eight runs in two straight starts to end May and then losing his job -- Wilson ripped the sleeve off and said goodbye. He had little else to lose.

And the funny thing is, he barely lost again.

Wilson pitched well enough in relief (3.20 ERA) over the next seven weeks to regain his starting spot in late July. All he did after that was go 6-2 and finish the year with a stellar start against the Yankees, giving up just two hits with no walks and eight strikeouts in seven innings. His 2.39 ERA after the break was fifth-best in the majors behind names like Vazquez, Moyer, Johnson and Zito.

	Wilson was the first pick in the country by the Mets in 1994.

Wilson was once supposed to be one of those names. Coming out of Florida State in 1994 as the top amateur in the nation he boasted the body, fastball and control that made comparisons to Roger Clemens reasonable. Yet while Clemens quickly rebounded from his 1984-85 arm trouble -- few remember he had major shoulder surgery at that time -- Wilson wound up undergoing a series of setbacks that all but left him for dead. After almost completing his comeback from 1996 shoulder surgery he got hit with Tommy John elbow reconstruction in early 1999, and didn't resurface in the big leagues until August 2000.

"Being hurt really does a lot to you," says Wilson, 29. "It's something you know how to do and it's taken away. And then you have to figure out how to do it over a different way, and then find out how to be successful, and be successful in the big leagues.

"The past few years I've been able to fall in love with this game again. Just the fact that I don't have to worry about my arm. I take care of my arm just like everybody else does. I don't dwell on it every single day. Now it's baseball -- how am I gonna get these hitters out, who's batting next. Not where's my next rehab assignment."

Wilson picked up this year where he left off last, scattering nine hits in eight innings in a no-decision against Detroit. Wednesday night he beat the Orioles 3-2 with seven four-hit innings to end the Devil Rays' three-game losing skid.

Last year, Wilson was unable to build upon his similarly fine end to the 2000 season, when after his trade from the New York Mets to Tampa Bay (with center fielder Jason Tyner for outfielder Bubba Trammell and reliever Rick White) he blossomed with a 3.35 ERA and just 38 hits in 51 innings, the last 14 of them scoreless. But he still was getting used to his new arm and new repertoire. His 96-mph fastball a thing of the past, he now relies on a sharp sinker and changeup; it was with that changeup that he snuffed out a dangerous seventh-inning Orioles rally by getting Jerry Hairston to commit too early and ground out to third.

"I like the idea of me being a sinkerball pitcher," Wilson says. "I know my role and I know what I have to do to go out there and win, which is to throw that sinker and not be afraid of contact -- let them put the bat on the ball.

"I think I was in search of who I was (until recently). I was searching, like we all are when we're young. I was always trying to keep my arm healthy just to be able to go out there and pitch. It's hard to figure out who you are when you can't pitch."

(If Wilson sounds somewhat existential, that's because he's one of the most introspective and genuine pitchers in the big leagues, never reluctant to discuss his fears and feelings. After a 9-7 loss to Cincinnati in 1996 when his arm began to hurt, he spoke softly, "It certainly wasn't me out there. ... Whoever that guy was, he was terrible. Absolutely terrible. And I wouldn't care if I ever saw that guy again." About a month later he gave up a devastating three-run, game-winning home run to Sammy Sosa and groaned, "I'm getting tired of all these learning experiences." During his rehab, he would think to himself, "All I have to do is come back and start throwing, and people will believe that I can be Paul Wilson again.")

The travails traded strength in his arm for strength in his mind. "Mentally I feel so much stronger," he says. Teammates see how he's throwing with confidence again, showing great command of his somewhat oxymoronic "power changeup" (similar to the Rockies' Todd Jones) that comes in at 86-87 mph with heavy downward movement. "Hitters will ask me, What is that?" Devil Rays catcher Toby Hall says. "Sometimes I tell them it's just a split to make them think."

Wilson sat down with Devil Rays pitching coach Jackie Brown early this spring training for a long discussion, when he admitted that he couldn't be a strikeout pitcher anymore. But the surgery also allowed him to get better extension on pitches, an important tweak that another former No. 1 pick and Tommy John veteran, Kris Benson, is appreciating right now with the Pirates.

Benson, the top overall pick in the draft two years after Wilson, succumbed to the surgery last May. He has pitched encouragingly at Triple-A Nashville and could return to Pittsburgh in 4-6 weeks. He struck out 10 in 4 2/3 innings on Wednesday (but needing an alarming 84 pitches to do it) and is pitching more free and easy than ever. When you consider that Benson's old Clemson University teammate, Billy Koch, throws harder now after his own 1997 elbow reconstruction, you can see the potential for a strong return in time. "Instead of mentally trying to protect my elbow and protect my arm," Benson says, "now I can get on top with good extension, which leaves pitches lower in the zone. I'm seeing life and movement I haven't seen in a while."

Tampa Bay pitcher Doug Creek says the same thing about Wilson, who each day leaves more of his disabled-list days behind. "Ninety-nine percent of his game is in his head," Creek says. "He had some demons he had to face -- he faced 'em and he beat 'em." Now he just beats other teams.

"I'm not trying to be anybody -- I'm just trying to be a major-league baseball player," Wilson says. "I'm not trying to be the No. 1 pick or an ace. Just trying to be a major-league baseball player and letting the chips fall where they may."

And letting those rubber sleeves fall into the garbage. "I've done what I was supposed to do to get my arm back in shape, so if it happens (again), it happens," Wilson says. "But it's time to find out."

Alan Schwarz is the Senior Writer of Baseball America magazine and a regular contributor to ESPN.com.