Heaven Help Us, and Him

The White Sox finally got around to naming their next TV play-by-play person yesterday, 39-year old John Schriffen. The best I can say is that even a broken clock gets the right time twice a day. (I must’ve had a cliché left over from yesterday). The Sox organization is nothing if not a broken clock. The hiring has all the markings of a Jerry Reinsdorf move a la Tony La Russa. I mean, replacing suburban South Sider Jason Benetti with native New Yorker Schriffen? Reinsdorf will live to be 100 if only to stick it year in and year out to his critics. Schriffen did himself no favors to Sox fans—at least this one—with the interview posted on the team website. He talked about “what Jerry [Reinsdorf] has done for this organization” without going into detail. Somehow, I doubt Schriffen will ever criticize where his new team plays or plans for playing elsewhere. On top of that, he referred to Steve Stone as a “legend.” And I am the Easter Bunny. Wait, there’s more. Schriffen said he wants to be Stone’s “point guard,” setting him up to do whatever it is he does that makes the owner so happy. I know, I know, give the kid a chance. He didn’t pick where he was born, and anybody without an established reputation coming into a situation like this has to be in serious apple-polishing mode. OK, I’ll give Schriffen the benefit of the doubt. But I have a lot of doubts.