But here it is, 2000, and there’s Westmoreland calmly shagging flies in the Fieldcrest outfield, preparing for his Opening Day starting assignment tonight in Asheville.

Say what?

“It’s hard to understand this game sometimes,” says the strapping 6-1, 215-pounder. “Sometimes, you have to roll with the punches.”

Two years ago, Westmoreland’s life was about punch-outs, not punches. Drafted in the 10th round out of Alabama-Huntsville in June of ‘98, he immediately proved he was too good for rookie ball, dominating with the Phillies’ Batavia farm team. In seven starts for the Muckdogs, he fanned 39 and walked five. His ERA was a Bob Gibsonesque 1.43.

Next stop: Piedmont.

After arriving in Kannapolis, “General” Westmoreland was completely in charge. In five lights-out starts, he whiffed 41 South Atlantic League hitters and went 3-0.

Boll Weevil fans appreciated the effort, then said adios when Westmoreland, as expected, was promoted to Clearwater for the ‘99 season. Weevil fans felt lucky if they’d acquired an autograph or two during his visit, because Westmoreland looked like a lock for the big-time.

And early in ‘99, Westmoreland did nothing to disappoint Clearwater fans or his autograph values, making short work of the highly regarded Class A Florida State League

“I started 7-0 in Clearwater,” says Westmoreland, who was starting to draw more attention than Julia Roberts. He’d gone 13-1 since turning pro.

But then came trouble.

“I hurt my elbow and my velocity just turned off,” says Westmoreland shaking his head.

It’s happened before. Throwing baseballs for a living is only a slightly less hazardous occupation than bungi-jumping. Sliders and curves and split-fingers have wiped out more promising careers than the best accountant can keep track of.

Westmoreland gritted his teeth and tried to pitch through the ache in his elbow, but he was suddenly hittable. He went 1-4 the rest of the way, calling it a season after 111 innings with his rapidly ballooning 4.20 ERA headed for the intensive care unit.

“I had a bunch of bad outings and everything sort of snowballed on me,” says Westmoreland.

Westmoreland’s curve no longer snapped. His fastball no longer popped. And he no longer crackled with confidence.

So now, he’s back in K-Town. Still smiling. And for now, at least, still smoking.

“I didn’t know what to expect,” says Westmoreland. “But I feel good, better than I have in a long time. I’m pain-free. The velocity feels like it’s coming back. My ball’s alive again.”

“This is probably where Westmoreland should be this year,” says pitching coach Rod Nichols, when asked about the surprise returnee. “Hopefully, he’ll get some confidence. We’ve got a young staff and we can use an experienced guy like Ken to push the young guys in a positive way.”

“The big thing,” says the Weevils’ new manager, Greg Legg, “is that Westmoreland needs innings. A kid basically needs 500 minor league innings before he’s ready to go to the majors and able to get Ken Griffey out. And he’ll get a lot of innings here.”

Westmoreland has only 182 pro innings under his belt. But a heavy workload sounds just fine to him. He’s ready and willing. And if his elbow’s able, his second stay in Kannapolis might be briefer than a Sports Illustrated swimsuit. He had three outings against Double A level teams in spring training and lived to tell about it.

If the pain stays away, Westmoreland, who turned 25 in February, still has time to get back on track toward the big leagues. He’s no longer on the fast track, but at least he’ll be pointed in the right direction.

Still, more than one long-time Weevil fan dropped his beverage when he saw Westmoreland working out on Wednesday alongside teenagers like Philly’s first round draft pick, Brett Myers.