Rye Davis never had a doubt.

Nevermind that the right side of his face was literally in pieces. Nevermind that his right eye – by Davis’ own (perhaps slightly exaggerated) description – “exploded.” Nevermind that Davis’ vision and depth perception would never be the same. Nevermind everyone who wondered if Davis could mentally climb onto a pitcher’s mound again.

Nevermind all that. Rye Davis was going to return to Western Kentucky’s baseball team, no question. And not just return, but play. Contribute. Forget the obstacles.

A year ago yesterday, Davis took a sharply struck baseball squarely to the skull in preseason practice. The impact crunched bones in the pitcher’s forehead and temple, around his eye socket and down in his jaw. It left scabbed-over seam marks where the ball ripped the skin. The smashing and pushing caused his right eyeball to pop open – a condition called “macular hole” that couldn’t be corrected for months, when his facial injuries healed. No matter what, his eyesight would worsen, which is, uh, bad news for a pitcher.

But so what? The night of the injury, Davis left the emergency room and returned home to his little hometown called Pig in Edmonson County. He started cracking wise about his predicament on Facebook, posting photos and making fun of the teammate whose hit caused the damage – which Davis figured would have been much worse if the player didn’t “hit like a girl.” Within a week, his parents relented and let Davis drive again. Davis never really whined or moped. He just wanted to get back onto the field. The only things holding him out were nagging coaches, parents and doctors.

“The only thing I really felt was I was just disappointed that I wouldn’t get to play that season,” says Davis, who missed all of the 2009 campaign but is back with the Hilltoppers this spring. “But … my family, we’re real religious and have a lot of faith and everything. From the beginning, it was never (a thought) that I wasn’t going to play again. I always knew that God’s never going to put anything in front of you that you can’t handle.”

How’s that for positive thinking? Not long after the injury, Davis – who at the time was about a week short of his sophomore season on the Hill – had a chat with his parents, Tim and Connie Davis. This was the first time in Davis’ baseball career he would miss games due to injury, and the severity of the situation shook the family a bit. That’s a natural response, sure. But pouting would accomplish nothing.

“What we just told him is that what he needed to do was to get up and do the best that he could,” Tim Davis says.

There was a problem. Rye Davis couldn’t do much of anything. Exercise was a no-no for the first several weeks. Combine the inactivity with the generosity of Davis’ tight-knit community in Edmonson County – in this case, “generosity” often meant “home-cooked food” – and the 6-foot-5 Davis ballooned from 230 pounds to about 270. Going to WKU home games was difficult, obviously, because he yearned to be out there helping the Toppers reach a second straight NCAA Tournament.

Then came the hardest part. Over the summer, once his facial bones had sufficiently healed, Davis could finally undergo surgery at Vanderbilt University to repair the hole in his eye. The procedure called for a thick, gel-like substance to be drained from the eye and replaced with a gas bubble. That’s when the fun started. The bubble requires physical pressure to do its healing work, so Davis had to lie face-down for 50 minutes of each hour for seven straight days.

You read that right. Face-down for a full week. Lying on a contraption similar to a massage table, Davis had a portable DVD player and a laptop hooked to a television. He couldn’t read, of course, but he had his country music and a steady flow of visitors. And he had willpower – if he didn’t do this, a return to baseball might not be guaranteed.

“It was mainly just determination, because the doctor told him that if he didn’t lay with his face down for seven days that the surgery wouldn’t work and he’d have to do it again,” Tim Davis says. “And every time you have the surgery you lose a little more vision. So he was very determined to do that. For seven days, he stayed … with his head pointed straight to the ground.”

Davis made it through that and gradually inched back into form. He began a training regimen, dropping to a muscular 240 pounds and working into the best shape of his life. His injuries healed well; looking at his face, it’s almost impossible to tell anything even happened. His eyesight is affected – he still has full peripheral vision, but has lost about half of his straight-ahead sight – so he learned to deal with it.

Davis returned to the mound in WKU’s fall scrimmages. He admitted a few jitters, but he was calmed by his faith. He never doubted he’d be back, remember, so what was there to be nervous about?

“It was in my head going out there, but I knew I was supposed to be back out there on the mound,” he says. “So I prayed about it and I was scared before I got back out there. But once I got back out on the mind, it was like everything was clicking. It was like I was back out there ready to go after guys.”

Davis, who was a valuable starter and closer for the Hilltoppers his freshman season in 2008, will primarily be a closer for WKU this season as a redshirt sophomore. He says the change in his eyesight hasn’t changed his pitching approach, which is good news for the Toppers.

“My freshman year, I came in, I was aggressive, and I’m going to stay aggressive now,” Davis says. “I’m not going to change the way I pitch at all. … If anything, I think I’m going to be more aggressive this year, because I feel like I’ve got something to prove.”

Says Tim Davis: “The first time out in live pitching, you know, I’d hate to be the guy to face him. Because he’ll probably be a little bit wound up. But I think he’ll come on through with it.”

Hilltopper coach Chris Finwood admitted at WKU’s media day last week that he felt a twinge of emotion when Davis first took the mound in those fall intrasquad scrimmages. But it was soon clear Davis wasn’t much worse for the wear – in fact, Davis has adapted so beautifully to his weakened eyesight that Finwood hardly notices a difference any more.

Meanwhile, Davis still isn’t seeking sympathy or making excuses. For instance, he enjoys ragging on teammates who hit home runs off his pitches, because they’re “picking on the handicapped kid.”

“The guys on the team love him,” Finwood says. “He’s an ultra-aggressive kid and he just doesn’t think he can lose. It took him a little bit to get that back, but after that first shot was hit up the middle past him I think he was past it. He’s been lights-out ever since.”

Davis’ journey back to the diamond could culminate as soon as Friday, when the Hilltoppers are scheduled open the 2010 campaign at Nick Denes Field against Kent State. A healthy Davis strengthens what’s expected to be a powerful Topper pitching staff, and whatever WKU accomplishes this season – perhaps even a third-straight appearance in the NCAA Tournament – Davis figures to be a key component.

But Davis also knows his year on the shelf will have a lasting influence, lingering far after his playing days are over.

“I’m really ready to get back out there,” he says. “It’s made me a stronger person – not just a better ballplayer, but life in general. If I can make it through this, then I can make it through anything.”

— Daniel Pike is sports editor for the Daily News. He may be reached by calling 783-3271 or by e-mailing dpike@bgdailynews.com.