T.J. SIMERS Angels broadcaster's daughter is typical teen, and it's extraordinary

Former pitcher Mark Gubicza and his wife are jumping for joy at prospect of their Ashley going off medication, two years after brain surgery following seizures since age 4.

"Ashley had her first seizure when she was 4," he explains, his daughter a little more than two years removed from brain surgery and ready now to take on the world like every other eager 13-year-old.

Big game with Texas, all right, but Gooby is already looking forward to Monday, every mom and dad in the place probably jumping for joy as well if they only knew.

As carefree as anyone might appear, he was bubbling over with excitement Tuesday night at Angel Stadium.

They don't come more likable or approachable than Mark Gubicza, Gooby to his friends, the Angels broadcaster and former pitcher for the Kansas City Royals.

"In the car today she was talking about going to volleyball camp to better help her make the varsity," Gooby says. "She isn't even in high school yet, but how cool is that to hear her talk like that? We'd let her go too; we could have never done that before."

They began feeding Ashley medication nine years ago after her initial seizure, a little of this and try that.

"No one knew what it was," he says. "There wasn't a week that went by when she wasn't having a seizure. It was relentless and all you could do was sit there, put her on her left side, watch it and wait for it to go away. My wife was awesome, but I always found myself trembling."

Doctors told Mom and Dad to act normal, and doctors are funny like that. But it would be worse, they said, if she sensed their discomfort.

Ashley was attending school at St. Euphrasia in Granada Hills, a pal assigned to be with her at all times in case she collapsed and teachers making sure to have her sit at the front of the class.

"That's where the bad kids are supposed to sit," Gooby says. "The school has been great, but it's been hard on her. She could read a whole book, have a seizure and not remember the next day she had read the book. And the seizures could come anywhere, in a restaurant, the dentist's office, in class.…

"She would have to take a nap after a seizure and would usually wake up and say, 'What happened, Daddy? Did I make any noise?' She was so embarrassed when she would be in class and have an outburst and start making noises. I would always tell her, 'No, honey, no noises.' "

It became a way of life for the Gubicza family, older son Chad and older daughter Nicolette having to understand that Mom and Dad were not ignoring them while never taking their eyes off Ashley.

"The stress was monumental," Gooby says. "It was just relentless."

Two years ago, Gooby gets a phone call from his wife, Lisa, who tells her husband their daughter is in trouble at school.

"She's nonresponsive and not breathing," he's told, and he says, "I know that's not good."

A helicopter is dispatched to her grade school, Ashley suffering a grand mal seizure and medics rushing to her aid.

She's put on the helicopter, only one parent allowed to join her, leaving Gooby to drive.

"Here I am trying to follow the helicopter down the 405, going as fast as any human can, wondering what's going on above me. Little did I know that helicopter was a blessing."