Compare and Contrast

If my daughter were Rob Manfred, the World Series would start tomorrow, with at least some chance of finishing in October. Somehow, November does not easily lend itself to the idea of a “Fall Classic.” If only Manfred’s ways were Clare’s. Speaking of and with my daughter the other day, I mentioned how similar—and yet so very different—her buddy Kyle Schwarber is to possibly her least favorite White Sox player of all time, that being Adam Dunn. As for the similar part, baseball-reference.com used career figures to project Dunn at thirty-seven homeruns and ninety-five RBIs with a .237 BA over a 162-game season. With Schwarber, its’s thirty-nine/eighty-eight/.233. But figures don’t begin to tell the story here. Dunn never went to the postseason in fourteen seasons; in contrast, Schwarber has played in the postseason in all but one of his eight years in the majors. Some of that is luck, and some of it is reputation. Bat .412 in a seven-game World Series the way Schwarber did in 2016 (accumulating more at-bats than he did in the regular season that year), and teams take notice. Which is why the Red Sox and Phillies both have wanted him. Schwarber has that “it” factor that enlivens a dugout and clubhouse. When Dunn hit a homerun, he trotted around the bases, took his high-fives and sat down. Schwarber connects, and his teammates all join in the party. Dunn was a downer, Schwarber is a scintillator. And those are the guys who, barring injury, can play forever.