The
New York Times is always certain of itself, as is each and every columnist in its
employ. Consider William C. Rhoden in
sports.
Back
in November, he couldn’t say enough about Dusty Baker getting his fourth managing
job; flopping in San Francisco, Chicago and Cincinnati did not factor into it. Rhoden wrote that, “I filtered the decision
to hire him not through race or experience but through baseball [Huh? What?],
though when Baker appeared to be passed over for [Bud] Black, it seemed that
Washington had fallen back on a familiar old boys’ network.”
By
Rhoden’s way of thinking, Black is “a baseball lifer” while Baker is an entity
unto himself, sent from Olympus even, because “Sometimes the baseball gods
grant franchises unearned miracles and second chances.” Too bad the miracle worker opened up his
mouth yesterday at the baseball meetings in Nashville. Baker did an interviewing channeling his
inner Jimmy the Greek and Roger Goodell.
The Nats’ new manager wants faster players and he thinks “you’ve got a
better chance of getting some speed with Latin and African Americans. I’m not being racist. That’s just how it is.” So says the man who never saw Barry Bonds do
steroids but let his Cub players chase after a broadcaster who dared to
criticize them on the air.
But
wait, there’s more, as Baker felt the need to weigh in on Aroldis Chapman, who in
October was involved in a domestic dispute with his girlfriend. She told police the Reds’ reliever pushed her
and choked her. Chapman admitted to
taking a gun into his garage and putting seven rounds into a wall and another
through a window, maybe for good luck.
What does Mr. Baker think about this?
“Sometimes abusers don’t always have pants on.” Right.
I
can’t help but feel sorry for Bryce Harper.
Oh, and William Rhoden, too.
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