Big League seasons are, first and foremost, long. They are tests of endurance and the ability to sustain performance, the most challenging seasons in professional sports. And yet some seem so short or, worse, too short. When Brian Bannister awoke in Lakeland, Fla. on Thursday morning, he considered the Mets' season and said, "I can't believe how little of it is left."

In one way, the Mets' 2006 season has dragged for Bannister; in another, it has sped by like Jose Reyes en route to a triple. Even with the likelihood of more games come October, there aren't enough to meet the expectations he had three months ago.

Most of season has been taken from Bannister by a Benedict Arnold hamstring and related complications. Merely 61 games remain in the Mets' season -- Bannister's rookie year. And by the time he is ready to resume his career at the big-league level, at least another 15 games will have passed.

By mid-August -- or later -- his bookmark will say he has lost more than half of '06. "And you get only one rookie season," Bannister says, his words a lament.

He wanted to be around for all of it, wanted to "learn from the two Hall of Famers," wanted to throw to Paul Lo Duca, pitch to Albert Pujols and learn from Pedro Martinez; to be hazed by Tom Glavine, impressed by Carlos Delgado, blown away by David Wright and forced to wear women's clothing through an airport as Lastings Milledge and Alay Soler endured last month. "I want to be made fun of," Bannister said.

He wanted to help, too -- to "do what I can for this team" as he said in Spring Training. And, goodness knows, he wanted to be part of the Mets' rush to first place and all that came with it.

The hamstring, that cursed muscle in his right leg, has denied him, taking from him what can not retrieved. And at this point, one day after taking his first step toward a return to the big leagues, Bannister can't even be sure there won't be more experiences lost.

He pitched Wednesday in Lakeland, for the Mets' Class A St. Lucie affiliate against the Tigers affiliate in the Florida State League. And his pitching line -- five innings, six hits, four runs (three earned), four walks and one strikeout -- was nonetheless perfect.

No pain.

The hamstring has healed and the scar tissue that formed at the point of injury no longer was irritating the sciatic nerve and interfering with his life.

"I chased down a bunt and backed up bases. I did everything a pitcher has to do," he said. "And no pain."

He'd like to make two more rehab starts -- he has time within the 20-day rehab period to make three more -- and find himself back in the Shea Stadium clubhouse, living in the locker between Darren Oliver's and Aaron Heilman's and pitching every fifth day.

"But I've always been realistic," he said from his hotel room. "I understand things have changed. I'm hoping I can make some contributions. Maybe take the workload off the guys in the bullpen.

"With what I did [Wednesday night], I've thrown only 33 innings this year. I have a lot of throws left in my arm."

But who knows? The Mets' starting pitcher crisis may have already passed. Martinez is to return to active duty in Atlanta on Friday night. John Maine has asserted himself in his last two starts -- 16 scoreless innings -- and put himself in position to be the one of the two starters to follow Martinez, Glavine and Steve Trachsel in the rotation once this newly instituted six-man rotation has taken its turn. Orlando Hernandez and Mike Pelfrey each have a leg up on Bannister, too.

But Willie Randolph, without prompting, has mentioned Bannister several times in the past 10 days. And this from a manager who usually says, "I don't concern myself with players who aren't here."

Randolph, though, is loyal to players who have contributed and aware that Bannister had a 2-0 record and 2.89 ERA in five starts before his hamstring betrayed him.

Moreover, Bannister believes he now is better equipped to handle the challenges of big-league hitters than he was April 26, when the hammy blew as he ran the bases in San Francisco. He used the interim three months to refine his pitches, particularly his changeup and curve. He threw all four pitches against Lakeland and was delighted with the results.

"They were sharp and down," he said. "By the end, it was fine. There was some rust at the beginning. And I was too aggressive. There was too much adrenaline effect. I had to get used to the speed of the game again. It was quicker than I expected. But as you pitch deeper, it slows down."

Bannister believes his work with the Mets training staff -- and the 12 pounds he lost to help the healing process -- have put him at a point where "I'm ahead of Spring Training."

But he never said he wants to compensate for time lost. He knows he can't. Given his choice, he would have preferred to lose 12 games than lose the 12 weeks that have passed since the injury put his career on pause. He thought his greatest challenges would be the batting orders of the Phillies, Braves and Nationals, not finding Port St. Lucie restaurants equipped to show SportsNet New York.

"There are all kinds of challenges," he said.

It has been a different kind of learning experience, one with more lessons in patience and anatomy than in pitching. He wasn't at all familiar with injuries or the sciatic nerve. He learned it is the largest nerve -- the circumference of a pinky -- in the body, and that runners often are affected by it. "I never heard of it before this," he said.

When he couldn't pitch, he spent time reading and having some "heart to hearts" with staff members. "It wasn't all bad," he said. But it wasn't what it might have been, either.