Krista Michalczyk will give nursing a try after a successful softball career at UConn.

Michalczyk Leaves Footprint On Storied Program

By: Justin Verrier

Posted: 5/6/07

It's senior day at the UConn Softball Field.

The sun beams down on the Huskies for one of the first times this season as a cool, crisp breeze blows in from the east; it's ideal softball conditions. The type of weather wedding and birthday party-goers dream of, perfect for a celebration.

As her name is called over the loud speaker, pitcher Krista Michalczyk trots out onto the diamond. Hoots and hollers from her teammates in the bench area and the packed crowd in the bleachers ring in the background. Michalczyk accepts a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag, crouches down next to her fellow seniors for a quick photo-op and her parents stand behind her, beaming with pride.

A big grin crawls across her face. A 500-watt smile that could light up the field - if it wasn't already so bright - with teeth so pearly white you'd think she was pulled straight out of a Crest commercial.

But as the photographer finishes rattling off a few pictures, that trademark smile of hers suddenly vanishes.

On what's supposed to be a joyous occasion, a celebration of four years of blood, sweat and tears, Michalczyk isn't so happy.

Today wasn't supposed to happen just yet. Today came too early.

One day toward the end of her freshman year, Michalczyk and her teammates went for a run around campus. Nothing too stressful, just the type of simple jog you see students do nearly every day.

But as the pack made a cut toward where the new Pharmacy building was being built on Fairfield Way, the unthinkable happened.

"We were running around the campus just to stay in shape," Michalczyk said. "We were cutting through and I ended up twisting my ankle really bad in a pot hole. You know, pop, snap, all over the place."

But no matter how severe the injury looked, she wasn't going to let it keep her down. She convinced herself that it wasn't as bad as it seemed and attempted to play the rest of the season and fall ball in the intense pain. But after about six months, it became too much.

The prognosis was just as painful. Doctors told the pitcher she had partially torn three ligaments and tore another completely. They gave her only two options: complete reconstruction surgery or a scoping. With reconstruction requiring months on the shelf, she chose the latter.

But, in reality, there was no choice. After getting her ankle scoped, it was mere months before the pain resurfaced and she was sent back to the doctor's office.

This time, it was either get the whole ankle reconstructed or never see the mound again.

For someone whose only previous experience in the hospital was to get her abnoids and tonsils out, the thought of undergoing such an extreme surgery shot chills up Michalczyk's spine. But she knew she had to or else that was it for her.

"The first one I was like, alright, no big deal, it's just a scope." Michalczyk said. "The second one, ugh, that was terrible. It was scary - really scary."

The pitcher, whose icy gaze atop the bump could strike fear in the hearts of opposing batters was left as petrified as a young child at the end of Bambi.

But while the whole process of going under the knife scared her, she was more concerned about the doubt that began to creep into her mind, "Will I play again?"

"You get nervous," she said. "It's scary. It's like, how am I going to come back from it, being a pitcher. Am I going to be able to do what I wanted to do?"

For her, softball was all she'd ever known.

Michalczyk began playing at the tender age of 9. And from the moment she strapped on a pair of cleats and high socks, she's been excelling at it.

Instead of throwing her in with children her own age, Michalczyk's father had her completely bypass T-ball and sent her straight to the majors with the big girls.

"I think he thought that it would be tougher and I would learn a little bit quicker," Michalczyk said. "I think he didn't want to baby me seeing I didn't have any experience in it. I just think that's the way he does stuff."

Despite being a few feet shorter and a little younger than most, it was quite obvious early on that her game was far beyond her years - even among the older children.

And while softball may not have been her thing early on - she secretly dreamt of playing basketball for UConn or Tennessee - Michalczyk jokes that she stopped growing and soon fell in love with the sport.

Her freshman year at Salem High School in New Hampshire she hadn't had much experience pitching, but her coaches moved her into the circle. By the time her career ended, she would leave as arguably the best pitcher the state ever saw.

In her four years, Michalczyk racked up four state championships and the New Hampshire Gatorade Player of the Year award in 2003 while never losing a single game.

Her impressive performance in high school and summer ball piqued the interest of several schools, but UConn was ultimately the choice because of the comfort she felt from its "small-town appeal," and the opportunity to resurrect a once great program.

And while Michalczyk said her freshman year was like "a quick slap in the face" because of the drastic change in the level of competition, her stats prove otherwise.

As a spot-starter, Michalczyk went 4-1 while sporting a 2.24 ERA in over 40 innings of work.

She was a natural, just one of those players born with a gift. She worked hard to get where she is, but for her, things just came easily.

However, after she was forced under the knife for the second time in under a year, things didn't come so easily any more.

Following her reconstructive surgery, Michalczyk said she was immobile for about six weeks with her leg in a cast.

The whole process took a toll on the then 19-year-old, physically and emotionally.

Throughout her time in the hospital and rehab, Michalczyk said the support of her family kept her fighting through those hard times.

And her coaches and teammates were right by her side every step of the way.

"I've been through my problems and she's been there for me," said senior third baseman Holly Calcagno. "So it's like, I know how you feel. I'm there as much as possible."

Despite being forced to the bench and away from the game she loves, Michalczyk tried to stay positive. She began to appreciate her opportunities more and used her condition to take a new look on the game - literally.

Forced to sit out her entire sophomore season with a medical redshirt, the right-hander said she learned little nuances by watching from the bench that she would have never seen without being forced to.

"I got to see through the coach's eyes," Michalczyk said. "I got to see what mound presence was and what they were actually looking for in me and in pitchers. And you get to see things in the team where you can step it up or they could step it up. It was a big learning year. Morale wise, it was pretty bad, but getting back was good after the hard work put in."

However, despite all that hard work that led to her eventual return last season, the then redshirt sophomore didn't exactly have the most pleasant of returns.

With some of the older, more experienced pitchers gone, Michalczyk was relied upon to be one of the go-to pitchers on the staff. However, no matter how many hours she spent watching the game and no matter how bad she wanted to, she didn't have the game experience in order to embrace that role.

And no matter how hard she tried, there was always that fear lurking around in the back of her mind.

"She's been doing rehab ever since she's had [her surgery]," said head coach Karen Mullins. "That was something last year she really had to fight through and understand that it is repaired. It's more being scared than anything."

She ended an abysmal season with an 8-13 and her ERA ballooned to more than double that of her first year, as the Huskies finished with the second-worst record in Mullins' 25-year coaching career.

Once again, the hurler picked herself up, working at her shortcomings throughout the offseason to get back to where she once was.

She also embraced the new philosophy Mullins and the Husky coaching staff adopted.

"Everything they preach now is mental toughness," Michalczyk said. "They always say, 'How can you rely on yourself or your teammates to get to where you need to be?'"

Although the righty can throw heat with the best of them in the Big East, she stopped trying to rack up the speed on the radar gun and developed into more of a finesse pitcher.

Everything seemed to pay off.

Michalczyk was dominant in the beginning of the season, looking like the top prospect that came to Storrs nearly four years ago.

"It's always tough to lose a year, medically," Mullins said. "She came back last year and she got beat around a little bit. She had to find out what she needed to do to learn to be successful at this level. I think last year was very much a learning and developmental year for her in our conference. I think she's really stepped up and turned a corner. She leads the way on the mound."

But while Michalczyk was focused on trying to guide her team to the Big East tournament, she lost sight of taking care of her injury. Always wanting to push herself to be the player she was before the accident, she kept convincing herself that pain was only mental and no matter how painful it was, she was going to continue on.

However, in the Huskies' home match-up against Providence, she pushed it too far.

Michalczyk had been struggling all game. After a solid first few innings, the right-hander was having trouble finding the strike zone and when she did, the Friars were blasting her all over the yard.

As she worked her way into the fourth inning, the calm look across her face had suddenly changed into a grimace. She continued on, but it was clear something was wrong. You could hear anguish in the patented scream she lets out upon delivery.

Then, on a 2-1 pitch, the scream turned into a whimper.

As she let go of the pitch that was sent high to the backstop, she seemed to roll her ankle a bit and began limping around the mound.

Mullins and the trainer stopped the game to have a look, and after about 10 minutes of inspection, decided to let her pitch on.

But after two more batters, it was obvious she couldn't continue and Mullins pulled Michalczyk.

"You could see after she let that one go she kind of tweaked it," said catcher Danielle Del Ponte, Michalczyk's best friend since they were about age 14. "You could tell there was something wrong."

And there was. More than she could ever imagine.

Following the game, Michalczyk was forced to the bench again as her foot was put in a boot.

But the worst was yet to come.

Michalczyk returned to the mound after about a week, but right before she was set to make her comeback in a rematch with in-state rival Central Connecticut State, doctors again had bad news.

They told her that she would have to go under the knife once more. However, this time, there was no coming back. They told her this was it. Although she had planned on coming back for a fifth year of eligibility, her college career was taken away from her in mere seconds.

After all the adversity she's been through in just three years, Michalczyk wasn't going to let this stop her from finishing what she had planned to do.

"It's coming to a close pretty quick now," she said. "But I just want to press a little bit harder now knowing that it's almost over."

As Michalczyk settles in on the mound, she gets an intense look in her eye. Although the 187 people in attendance make up one of the biggest crowds the UConn Softball Field has seen all year, she doesn't seem to notice.

As the first batter digs in, Michalczyk nods to Del Ponte and begins her wind up. She lets out a loud "hoot-mah" and fires one straight over the plate. The ball makes a loud pop in Del Ponte's mitt, like someone had just exploded a bag of potato chips, and the umpire calls a strike.

The crowd roars in exuberance as whistles and claps ring throughout the field as she receives the ball and heads back to the mound.

And as she does, a sly little small cracks open on the side of her mouth, showing those pearly whites one more time.