TUCSON, Ariz. — Growing up in his hardscrabble world, Pokey Reese learned early that nothing he wanted would come easily. On dusty Bluff Road, there was no entitlement. Everything was earned.

In a small house that had no running water, in the shadow of the University of South Carolina's huge, two-tiered football stadium, Reese learned to play baseball on the worst fields, with the worst equipment. He also learned never to complain about it.

On the rock-strewn ballfields near his neighborhood, Reese fielded bad-hop grounders of thread-bare baseballs and hit line drives that were full of hope. On Bluff Road, against all odds, he began his quixotic trek to the major leagues.

"It was tough," Mariners shortstop Reese said of his impoverished Southern upbringing. "We didn't have any sewage disposal. We didn't have a bathroom. We had to use an outhouse. We had to heat our water and take baths in a basin. My mom had to scrape for everything we got. Even now there's only one paved road in my neighborhood."

Reese's home was just a few miles from the state capitol building in Columbia, where most legislators seemed uninterested in raising the standard of living for this constituency. His were the people of South Carolina the government ignored.

But the hard life kept his family close. His mother, Clara, worked long hours as a nurse. Sometimes Reese thought she worked too hard, just to keep her family in food and clothes. His family understood the obstacles and enjoyed their lives as best they could.

Reese was born in 1973 with a hernia and his navel poked out. His grandmother nicknamed Calvin Reese "Pokey."

"I was a fat little kid," he said. "And my navel stuck out pretty far. People were amazed at a navel that was that big and they would poke at it. I finally had surgery when I was 6."

The hernia was gone, but the nickname stuck. "I don't like to be called Calvin," Pokey said.

A childhood like this is humbling. But it has helped keep Reese grounded. This is a player who has appreciated every day of his eight years in the major leagues. A player who's not afraid to fight for a starting spot.

"It's never been easy for me, so that's what I take to the park every day," he said. "I have to work for everything I get. I try not to look too far in my past. I've been put in a better situation."

A better situation? Reese was part of the Boston Red Sox's wondrous world-championship run last October.

"Wow, I'm still on that high, man," said Reese, who was playing second base when pitcher Keith Foulke fielded the final grounder and threw to first baseman Doug Mientkiewicz for the curse-breaking last out of the 2004 World Series. "I still haven't received the ring and until I do, I guess, I'm going to stay on that high.

"It was such an awesome year for everyone involved, and it stayed with me all winter. I enjoyed my time in Boston and I thank them for everything. I learned a lot. I learned that if you come together as one and you don't worry about what the outsiders are saying about your friends in the clubhouse, anything's possible."

But Reese, who backed up Boston second baseman Mark Bellhorn, came to Seattle as a free agent, looking for an opportunity to start.

Now he's in a fight to become the starting shortstop.

He is playing well, but Jose Lopez, 21, who finished last season as Seattle's starter and surely is the shortstop of the future, is playing just as well. Lopez probably is the favorite, but Reese is guaranteed to play an important part on this team.

"I wouldn't say shortstop is wide open, but it's still open," manager Mike Hargrove said. "There is competition there, but to say it's wide open would not be accurate."

Even after eight big-league seasons, Reese, who is a career .248 hitter, is hungry to play.

"I'm not even thinking about whether I'm in a dogfight," he said. "I'm happy to be here. I just think day to day and try to get better. You can't look ahead. You have to live your life day to day. I've always lived my life that way, not worrying about what's coming up two days ahead, or what happened two days ago."

You grow up humble on Bluff Road. Pokey Reese never thought he was special. Never thought a job, an at-bat, even a meal should be handed to him.

He worked his way out of Bluff Road, by playing baseball — hard. And now, 14 years after he left to become a professional player, he still plays that way.

Steve Kelley: 206-464-2176 or skelley@seattletimes.com