I suspect fan conventions go
according to script, intended or not.
The front office and some true believers in the media promise the team
is going to surprise people while a player (or two or more) points out that the
whole reason for next season is to compete for a championship; it’s an
observation—if not exactly a promise—sure to bring cheers. And at least one player will say how he hates
[insert rival here] more than anything.
In other words, a lot of what
happened over the weekend with the White Sox probably happened in Kansas City,
Milwaukee, Arlington…You have to go prospecting to find any nuggets, which is
what life is all about, I guess. Anyway,
I found two.
The first entails rehabbing
fireballer Michael Kopech. He was
quieter and more reflective than I had imagined; you don’t expect anyone
drafted right out of high school to say he spends part of his time reading, as
in books. That plus the fact that Kopech
spoke in complete sentences and was able to convey the excitement of making his
major-league debut left me impressed.
Now all I have to do is wait another year for Kopech to go before the
cameras to assess his most recent start.
So, Kopech surprised while Hillerich
& Bradsby delighted. The maker of
the Louisville Slugger had an exhibit complete with bats from their
collection. “You want to swing one?”
asked a company representative. Sure, I
said, donning special gloves to keep my sweaty palms from ruining a barnstorming
bat belonging to Shoeless Joe Jackson and a more recent model used by Dick
Allen. Oh, the power. Oh, the weight those guys swung. Oh, the fun.
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