ALTOONA, Pa. (AP)—The ball lined off John Wilson’s bat like a missile. Impressed by his prowess in the batting cage, Wilson took a step back from the plate and sniffed the lumber.

The most senior of seniors on the Division III Penn State Altoona baseball team, he will try to savor every moment of his final collegiate season, even if much of the time will be spent on the bench.

MAKING EVERY MOMENT COUNT—John Wilson rips a line drive in a game earlier this season. Wilson, 53, overcame a troubled path, including battling alcoholism and drug abuse before enrolling at Penn State Altoona and playing baseball for the Division III school.

“I smell wood burning!” Wilson shouts after hitting a line drive that elicits howls from players surveying his swing. Ted Williams “used to say that, but guys didn’t believe that,” he says.

Wilson is 53. Old enough to be the father of the college players he calls teammates. Old enough to remember watching games at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, his hometown.

JOHN WILSON

And old enough to be two decades removed from a life-changing stint in a rehabilitation center to address the addictions to drugs and alcohol that had driven him to suicidal thoughts.

Wilson is believed to be one of the oldest men to play collegiate baseball, though the N.C.A.A. does not keep such records.

But he is young enough at heart and in good-enough shape to keep up with guys like Tony Petulla, a 22-year-old senior catcher who threw pitches in an indoor batting cage one recent chilly morning.

“The most feared hitter on the team!” Petulla says as he walks behind Wilson, who smiles and nods. Besides an ever-so-slight paunch hidden under a blue sweatshirt, Wilson’s 5-9 frame is fit.

His mouth may be considered major league-ready, running almost nonstop with words of encouragement for teammates and mock self-congratulation that draws hearty laughter.

“You know what they say? Superstar? You heard that song,” he says as he smacks another hit in the cage. His coaches and Petulla cackle.

“Hey, I had it on my phone before all this happened,” Wilson says. “I want you all to know that!”

Baseball has been a constant in Wilson’s life since his childhood in Pittsburgh’s rough Hill District.

When he was 12, Wilson’s mother began taking him to games at Forbes Field, the former home of the Pirates, which was demolished in 1971. Like dozens of other kids fascinated with baseball, Wilson hung around the park hoping to get a glimpse of greats like Willie Stargell and Roberto Clemente.

But it was Manny Mota who really left a mark on Wilson by giving him a bat as he waited by the railing near the dugout. Mota played six seasons with the Pirates, but is best known as a pinch-hitting specialist with the Los Angeles Dodgers.

“I would be at the ballpark before the players got there,” Wilson said. “Waited until they came out, every game. I still do that today.”

He started getting into trouble after leaving high school. He was arrested for marijuana possession at 18 and sentenced to five-years’ probation.

The addictions worsened from there.

“I drank every day,” Wilson said. “Every day until I passed out.” His marijuana use led to other drugs.

“Whatever I could get my hands on,” he said.

Wilson said he used alcohol and drugs to “make me more outgoing and allow me to overcome my fears.”

But in the end, he hated himself. “Basically, I was at the end of my rope,” he said.

He spent time at a psychiatric institution before checking into Gateway Rehabilitation facility in suburban Pittsburgh for a 28-day program in 1986. From there, he went to a halfway house in Williamsburg, then a transitional house in Altoona the next year.

He has been clean and sober “approximately 21 years and so many months,” he said proudly.

It was in Altoona where he became an addictions counselor.

He also continued to play ball, joining the competitive Greater Altoona City Baseball League.

In 2004, when Wilson learned that his counseling certification had lapsed, he enrolled at Penn State Altoona and sought out Joe Piotti, an acquaintance from a summer league.

Piotti coached the school’s baseball team. Could Wilson try out for the squad?

He earned a spot on the team that season, although he tried at first to keep a low profile, and “spoke when spoken to.”

That has drastically changed.

“He’s always talking good things about everyone,” said Paul Keith, a 20-year-old junior pitcher.

“He’s never down, always trying to pick the team up.”

Keith said he was initially hesitant about having Wilson as a teammate.

“But what surprised me when I showed up to tryouts, I saw how much energy he still has for being his age, and the level of play he’s at, how he can hit, run and throw,” Keith said.

“It really surprised me, and I give all the respect you can possibly give a guy for doing what he does.”

When Wilson plays, he plays right field. He has appeared in only 10 games, going 2 for 11 with three runs and one run batted in.

His real value comes off the field, Piotti says. Wilson coaches first base, throws batting practice and is an unofficial mentor in the clubhouse.

“I get him in when I can, and he appreciates that,” Piotti said. “He just shows up every day and has some input with the team, which I hope he does.”

Any generational differences with his teammates have been whittled away. He has a Facebook page and an iPod—just like most of the players on the team.

Wilson and Petulla talk music when Petulla gives his teammate a ride to practice.

“It was like having a 22-year-old right beside me. He listens to rap, hip-hop, R&B,” Petulla said.

“He’s always like, ‘I need to get that on my iPod, get some of this stuff on it.’ So it’s kind of funny.”

Wilson has friends closer to his age, too, including Dusty Baker, the manager of the Cincinnati Reds. They met years ago when Wilson hung around the ballpark. They have stayed in touch, and they speak every couple of months.

Baker knows Wilson by his nickname, Buck. Wilson said Baker helped him pay the tuition bill his freshman year.

“I told him if he was going to do it, I’d help him,” Baker said at the Reds’ spring training camp in Sarasota, Fla. “My mom went back to school at 40. I told him if my mom could go back to school at 40 with five kids, he could.”

Baker added: “I’ve heard the kids love him. I’m proud of him.”

Although Wilson is in his last year of eligibility, he is scheduled to complete his degree in human development and family studies in 2009. He said he did not know what he would do from there. He is thinking about coaching full time or, perhaps, going into sports psychology.

Before that, there is a senior season to complete. The team started play this weekend in Florida during the college’s spring break. Wilson said he planned to get away to see Baker at Reds camp during a day off.

“I’m just as happy as a lark, man, because I’m doing what I’m doing,” Wilson said. “Baseball. It’s great.”