WELCOME TO ODALIS' NIGHTMARE.

Byline: STEVE DILBECK

So I'm standing there in the mostly empty Dodgers clubhouse last week, almost killing time a few hours before the day's game, and just happen to be in front of Odalis Perez's cubicle when up he walks.

Now we know each other, but perhaps much like his teammates, can't claim any particular relationship. He is a friendly sort, so I give him the casual, ``How's it going'' greeting.

``It's a nightmare,'' Perez said.

Now it's true you can never be sure what Perez will say, yet despite knowing that, I was caught totally by surprise and muttered something clever like: ``What?''

``It's a nightmare,'' he repeated.

He could have been talking about freeway traffic on the way to Dodger Stadium, or the way his charitable efforts have been portrayed or the price of gas or the Middle East or trying to squeeze into size 33 pants.

Yet knowing Perez, you sort of knew where this was heading, but I had to ask, had to be drawn into his own special outer limits.

``What nightmare?''

And on he went. He wasn't starting, wasn't pitching. Didn't understand his situation. Was all distraught.

``I love to pitch,'' Perez said.

He has pitched very little this season, and when he has, very poorly, the latter having a lot to do with the former. This little connection resonates not at all with Perez.

Having received this little salutation from him days earlier, the results and ensuing Perez outburst from the Dodgers' 14-inning loss to the Cardinals on Thursday were about as surprising as a summer heat wave.

Admittedly, most of the players were dragging by the time Perez entered the game, but when the camera flashed on their faces, it seemed clear: They don't want to play for him.

It may not be professional, but it's human nature. Perez long ago lost the clubhouse. They don't believe in him, maybe even don't respect him, think he's a head case.

He goes 3-1 to Albert Pujols, who's only batting something like .999 for his career against Perez with a home run every three at-bats, and everybody who's watched an inning of baseball just knew what was going to happen next.

Pujols deposited his home run somewhere in Illinois, the nightmare grew ever more ominous and Perez went off.

``I'm tired of being treated like trash,'' he said.

It was welcome to my nightmare again, which is what he's become for the Dodgers.

The guy wants to pitch, the Dodgers need starting and middle relief help, and Perez, a former 15-game winner, can't step up and help them. He has a 6.79 ERA and has become highly unreliable.

As a parting gift from former general manager Paul DePodesta, the Dodgers still owe him at least $15 million through the 2007season. DePodesta, in a near panic after not acquiring Matt Clement or any other attractive starting pitcher, re-signed Perez to a stunning three-year, $24-million contract.

The Dodgers would love to trade Perez, but who would want him the way he's been pitching, even if L.A. would pick up a large chuck of his contract? They could designate him for assignment, but no team is going to assume the rest of his deal. They could just cut their losses and release him.

Or they could cross their fingers, gather four-leaf clovers, let loose a couple dozen mazel tovs and hope for the best.

He would understand none of it.

``I don't have the same confidence that I used to have,'' he said. ``For me to regroup and be the same guy out there, I need to go out there more often and pitch.

``I have cried a lot of times thinking about it. My son asks me why I'm not playing. Nobody told me what I did wrong.''

That 8.53 ERA in his past eight starts would be telling enough for most, but this is Perez and he's a different piece of work.

Which is not to say all bad. He's as nice a person as anyone on the team. One of the few players left in baseball who will buy a sports writer a beer. And he truly, sincerely does not understand his current plight. Is baffled at not still being in the rotation.

He met with general manager Ned Colletti and manager Grady Little prior to Friday's game, and the Dodgers appeared anything but outraged over his new outburst. They seemed almost sympathetic.

Privately they may have been seething, but fortunately for Perez, the two are in their first season with the Dodgers. They haven't been around for his other meltdowns.

They do have to determine how large a distraction he is in the clubhouse. He is less a major clubhouse cancer than an unsupported island. And a very expensive one.

Perez wants to be here, but if it's more of the same with either results or indignation, than the time will come to let him lose, $15 mil and all.

For the Dodgers, it is a real nightmare.

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