WINSTON-SALEM � The world of minor-league baseball is too often a place where hopes and dreams and ambition collide with the reality of how difficult it is to pitch and catch and hit at the professional level.

Youthful aspirations of growing up to be a ballplayer drive the more than 4,000 young men currently playing in the bush leagues, yet more than 90 percent will never make it to The Show.

For every Nuke LaLoosh there are dozens of Crash Davis�, but every Crash has that yearning to one day play at the magical level.

Chris Narveson is 19 years old and has a left arm of such promise that the St. Louis Cardinals invested more than a half-million dollars to convince him to play minor-league baseball. A scholarship to Wake Forest was passed up so young Chris, nearly unhittable as a high-school star at Roberson, could chase his dream.

So there is a touch of irony along with a gentle summer breeze in the air when the 6-3, 180-pound youngster finally steps on the mound Saturday night in Winston-Salem to show fans what they don�t have in the Demon Deacons� starting rotation.

Two hours and twenty minutes later, they understand what all the fuss is about. "Damn, that boy can throw the pill," said a middle-aged man sitting near the top of Ernie Shore Field with the WF ball cap pushed back on his head. "The Deacs� could have used that boy this year."

At the Class A level of pro ball where careers start and end, production is key but scouts also want to see potential, even if it�s just a hint that there is the ability to play at higher levels.

Narveson, just 12 months from being a high-school student, has already provided plenty of both.

After signing with the Cardinals last summer as their second-round pick, Narveson went 2-4 with 63 strikeouts in 55 innings in a half-season of rookie ball at Johnson City (Tenn.).

The plan was to slowly bring along Narveson this season in Class A Peoria (Ill.) He played in Peoria, but only briefly. Eight starts, a 3-3 record with a 1.98 ERA and 32 hits in 50 innings was enough to convince St. Louis baseball men to advance their lefthander another step up to the Potomac (Va.) Cannons.

"He earned the chance to come up," said Potomac manager Joe Cunningham. "I promise you there is no way we�re going to push a 19-year-old through the organization if he�s not deserving."

His adjustment to a higher level of A ball has gone rather swimmingly.

In five starts and 35 innings, Narveson has allowed earned runs in just one game, three solo homers at Lynchburg on June 4. His record is 3-0, his ERA 0.85, his strikeout-to-walk-ratio a Maddux-esque 27 to 5. Opposing batters are hitting below the Mendoza line against Narveson, who is showing command with all four pitches � a fastball in the low 90s, a change-up and curve that puts batters back on their heels and a nasty cutter.

Against the Winston-Salem Warthogs, in front of 16 family and friends, Narveson is the first Cannon out of the dugout every inning, bouncing off the top step the moment the third out is recorded. His stride is upright and slow, stepping gingerly as if not to disturb the grass.

His pitching delivery is also surprisingly upright, the absence of a full wind-up replaced by a simple rocking motion with hands out front and a stiff back leg that allows him to whip the ball to the plate while keeping good balance and landing in preferred fielding position.

After a 1-2-3 first inning, Narveson runs into his only trouble on this pleasant, early-summer evening. A late swing on a fastball by the first hitter produces a line drive single down the right-field line, and a botched defensive play on a bloop behind second base puts two runners on.

After a sacrifice bunt, an alarmingly stupid call in the second inning of a 1-o game, Narveson gives up his only walk of the game to load the bases with one out.

The next batter hits a one-bouncer back up the middle. Narveson, wearing a small glove that would make a second baseman proud, dives to his right and spears the ball. From his knees and facing third base, he spins around and fires a strike to home to nip the lead runner.

It�s easy to spot the Narveson cheering section just a few rows behind home plate. They are the group standing and yelling after this great defensive play against the home team.

"An outstanding play," said Cunningham. "That�s athletic ability right there. What was great about it was he regained his balance, didn�t rush or panic and made the play. That tells me he has an idea of what he�s doing out on the mound."

Disaster is averted totally when Narveson blows a 91 mph fastball by the next batter for strike three.

"That�s the thing about this guy," said Cunningham. "The composure he has, the way he handles himself and doesn�t let anything affect him. He goes right at hitters. He gets the ball and goes to work, and that says a lot about the guy at age 19. I�d like to have about 30 more just like him.

"He�s all business out there. He has a game plan with what he wants do with his life, and that�s pitch in the big leagues."

The rest of Narveson�s outing has the feel of a pitcher subtly controlling the flow of the game. Over the next three innings he needs but 30 pitches to record nine outs.

The only emotion Narveson shows with a hat pulled tightly low just above the eyes is a brief grin when he comes to the dugout after each inning, receiving a pat on the butt or exchanging knuckle-bumps with his manager and pitching coach.

The Warthogs, with a 23-46 record every bit as ugly as their brown mascot, score an unearned run in the sixth when the Potomac third baseman throws away a two-out ground ball following a double. Narveson loses his shutout but gives his third baseman encouraging words and a friendly pat at the end of the inning.

In the seventh, the Cannons� bullpen is up and throwing as Narveson nears his pitch count of 100. Seemingly aware that he has no throws to waste, he retires the side on eight pitches. Seven of those eight are strikes and he strikes out two � a slow curve locks the knees of a left-handed hitter and some high smoke produces only a futile wave of the Louisville Slugger offered with no more conviction than a half-hearted attempt to swat a fly.

In the eighth he is lifted with two outs after striking out a batter on three pitches. His final numbers include five hits and no earned runs, nine strikeouts and just one walk. He threw 95 pitches, 64 for strikes.

"He�s 19?" said Winston-Salem outfielder Brett Caradonna when asked to assess Narveson�s performance. "We heard he had good stuff, and he did. He pitched awfully well tonight."

"I�m having a blast; I couldn�t ask for anything better," said Narveson, with the hint of chin whiskers more peach fuzz than beard a reminder of his tender age. "I couldn�t ask for a better start than I�ve had in high A, and I�m having a great time. I had good command of my stuff tonight. I felt like I could put the ball where I needed to put and get outs in certain situations."

Narveson says he has learned how to pitch in pro ball, how to set up hitters and get important outs after a high-school career in which a gifted arm was enough to overpower opponents.

"It�s a whole new different ball game from high school to here," he said. "Once you learn, it can be easy or you can make it real hard. Luckily, it�s been easy for me so far."

It won�t always be this easy for Chris Narveson, now in a climate of high expectations from an organization that has made a huge investment and in a world that covets left-handed pitching like Kournikova�s home number.

But one year out of high school, he has at age 19 what thousands of boys to men dream of � a chance to play in the major leagues.

"You look at what he is doing and how he is handling himself at 19 years old, and you can�t help but think where he might be at age 23 or 24," said Cunningham. "Damn, he�s got really nice command of all of his pitches, he moves the ball inside and out, he holds runners on, and he has a great mental make-up.

"If he keeps this up, he�s going to go. And I mean go."