ANOTHER DATE WITH DESTINY : TODAY, 39-YEAR-OLD CANCER-SURVIVOR BRETT BUTLER BEATS THE ODDS - AGAIN- BY GETTING BACK IN THE DODGERS' STARTING LINEUP.

Byline: Kevin Acee Daily News Staff Writer

Brett Butler burst into the house a few months back and touched his neck on the right side, near where the long scar is, where he is still numb and where his skin is red and chapped.

He told his wife, Eveline, he felt a little strange.

``What do you think it is,'' he asked for what seemed to her like the 1,000th time.

``It's cancer. You're going to die,'' she said.

Then they laughed.

It will be a year on May 21 since Butler underwent surgery to remove a tumor the size of a plum from his tonsils. They also took his lymph nodes in the operation.

It is generally accepted that there is an 80-percent chance cancer will return within the first year of being removed. The chances decrease after that.

But the disease could come back in a year. Or 10.

Butler is over it, even if he's not over it. As he prepares for his final season in the major leagues, it's time to move on.

``Now if a lump comes up I'll just go to the doctor,'' Butler said. ``If it's there, there's nothing I can do. It's not in my control.''

Butler's first worry when he decided to try for another year was his left hand, the one that aborted his first attempt at a comeback. Four days after returning from the disabled list, Butler was hit there while attempting to bunt. It was Sept. 10, and the thinking went that day would be Butler's last in uniform.

Then there was the pulled groin. A few days before Butler left for spring training, his 9-year-old son, Blake, playfully popped him one while he was sitting on the couch. The old man - he'll be 40 in June - jumped up to chase the kid and then hurt himself.

Today will be the first of many tests. Butler will start in the Dodgers' game against the New York Mets at Dodgertown.

It's not about how he does. It's about how he feels.

Butler needs to build up his strength, so by the end of the season he can play five or six games in a row. If he can do that, he will be on the Opening-Day roster.

``I'm going to wait until the end and then decide,'' Butler said. ``My goal is to play 150 games. If I can't help this team by playing that, I'll go home. I've played too long to be a platoon player. I'm not going to do that.''

And without a doubt, this is it.

``I don't care what happens this year, this is the finale,'' he said. ``I don't care if I hit .400 at age 40.''

Dodgers manager Bill Russell anticipates Butler will make the decision on whether to play. There will be no releasing him.

The line is 100 people deep.

Butler finished his workout and told the fans he would be back after getting some water in the clubhouse. And he actually returns.

Butler has always loved the fans. He spends a half-hour signing autographs after games while his kids wait in the car.

It takes almost that long to placate all the autograph seekers on this day. While Butler is standing there, Hideo Nomo walks by, and many in the crowd rush over to get his signature. He signs for three or four before walking off.

While Butler is giving out his autograph, he receives things as well.

``In the name of Jesus, I pray you are healed,'' one man says to Butler. That's the norm these days. That is part of why Butler is here.

``I'm just a pawn in this,'' Butler said. ``I don't need baseball. Baseball is third in my life. It's God, family and baseball.''

It never has been about playing baseball. It is a mission, the continued mission of Brett Butler, center fielder and Christian soldier.

The imminent book and movie deals are part of the mission.

``I think it's vain to write a book and a movie,'' Butler said. ``But it's bigger than me. I don't want to write a book about Brett Butler. I want to write a book that's about hope and courage and how prayers are answered.''

The difficult part for Brett Butler was the decision.

``He drove us all crazy all winter,'' Eveline Butler said. ``One day he was playing, the next he was retiring, the next he was playing, the next retiring. We finally got to the point where we said, `Shut up. When you decide to play just let us know.' ''

During the winter, Butler said, he was 85 percent certain he would retire. Mainly, he figured it would be impossible to come back. He had done virtually no work since breaking his hand. His cardiovascular conditioning was ``shot.''

He weighed 145 pounds, just a bit more than what he weighed after cancer surgery.

``After the first of the year I started to feel a little bit better,'' said Butler, up to 155 pounds, about six less than ideal but exactly what he weighed his rookie season.

``I was in L.A. . . . I came to the ballpark and saw the guys. (Dodgers executive vice president) Fred Claire said, `How do you feel?' I said, `I feel good. I really do.' He said, `Why don't you come down to spring training?' I said `I'll do that.' ''

Now is the difficult part for Eveline.

``Having him gone these past couple weeks has been tough,'' she said. ``Not having him in my sights where I can keep an eye on him, it's tougher than I thought it would be.''

Butler will be home someday. It has reached the point where he has thought about life after baseball.

The idea of being a part-time roving instructor while his children are still young appeals to him. So does the idea of someday becoming a manager or general manager.

He spends a lot of time tutoring young players in the clubhouse. At various times in the day he can be seen talking bunting with Chad Fonville and then demonstrating proper leadoff stances with Roger Cedeno.

Cedeno, the kid who will likely take over in center field whenever Butler departs, listens with eyes wide every time Butler speaks.

``He told me he's going to teach me how to take his job,'' Cedeno said. ``He has so much experience. We talk a lot.''

Butler, however, can also envision a life without professional baseball.

``The other scenario is cold turkey, just walk away, go home and raise the kids,'' he said. ``Then by the time they're out of the house I'm 50, and what do you do then? Me and mom just travel.''

He could keep himself busy. He might coach high school baseball or wrestling. He likes it when he's home getting up at 6 and not stopping until after 10 at night. He figures he'll become the taxi driver for the kids. ``The Mr. Mom thing,'' he calls it.

Not 11 months ago, people were waiting to see if Brett Butler would die. Now they wait to see if he will be the Dodgers center fielder.

``He's defied my odds,'' said Dr. Robert Gadlage, Butler's personal physician. ``He made all of us astounded in the medical profession - to be playing at all, but to be playing at the professional level.''

Butler has done the same interview at least 20 times this spring. Many of his answers are by rote. But the message, the immensity of what this tiny man is doing, kicking cancer's butt, is no less powerful.

He has practically no saliva. He drinks upwards of five gallons of water a day. Chewing gum is more of a chore than it's worth. It feels like his shoes are too heavy on his feet sometimes.

And yet he plans to help the Dodgers win the World Series.

``It's almost hard to believe it happened,'' Eveline said. ``How can he go from having cancer and us thinking the worst, that he was going to die, to now he's back playing baseball, and that's normal for us. It's kind of strange.''

BUTLER'S TRIALS

May 6, 1996: Cancer discovered in his tonsils.

May 21: Had surgery to remove tumor and lymph nodes.

Aug. 26: Re-joined team.

Sept. 6: Came off disabled list.

Sept. 10: Season ended when he suffered a fractured fifth metacarpal in his left hand while bunting.

Today: Will start his first game of the spring.

CAPTION(S):

2 Photos, Box

Photo: (1--color) no caption (Brett Butler and Chad Fonville)

Jon Soo Hoo / Los Angeles Dodgers 

(2) ``I think it's vain to write a book and a movie. But it's bigger than me. I don't want to write a book about Brett Butler. I want to write a book that's about hope and courage and how prayers are answered.''

- Brett Butler

Box: BUTLER'S TRIALS (see text)