Let’s count up the MLB managing vacancies. At a minimum that would include Kansas City,
Pittsburgh, Los Angeles (or whatever it is they call the Angels), San Diego and
San Francisco as well as the North Side of Chicago. Because that last one turned Joe Maddon into
a free agent, there’s a strong chance that someone else will be changing
managers, too. Which means I wouldn’t
want to be Mickey Callaway (Mets) or Gabe Kapler (Phillies).
These days, managers tend to be both younger and open to—or dependent
on—analytics. So, there’s less of a
chance that a new hire will be part of what was once known as the “old-boys’
network.” But it will remain a boys’
club, nonetheless. Assume six new
managers will take the helm in 2020. Do
you think they’re going to bring any women on board as coaches? No, a woman’s place is...anywhere but a
major-league dugout. What a shame, what
a joke, what a travesty.
The Lie of Analytics
This is how analytics shapes, and some like me would say, twists,
baseball thinking. Consider the stolen
base.
According to the numbers-crunching crowd, the stolen base risks outs and
injuries (the latter as opposed to the proliferation of oblique injuries
suffered by players swinging for the fences).
Moreover, reading the statistics with one eye close and your head bent
to the left (or right, as different sabermetricians favor different formulas, it
becomes clear that a hitter is more likely to score on a homerun as on a
single. Plus you get two runs, not just
one.
Hence, the rise of pitch-framing.
The dumber the umpire and the sneakier the catcher, the more strikes
called. The thing is, for the life of me
I can’t recall Johnny Bench or Carlton Fisk or Bob Boone even being hailed as
great pitch framers; no, they were more interested in keeping runners at first
base. It’s interesting to note that the
Cubs’ Willson Contreras, who stands out among catchers for trying to shut down
the opponent’s running game, is rated below-average as a pitch framer.
If base runners don’t run, catchers have the free
time to fool umpires on borderline pitches.
If and when the next Rickey Henderson comes along, watch how pitch
framing disappears, at least when Henderson II gets on base.
Back in 1990, the White Sox pioneered the concept of “turn back the
clock” games with period uniforms and whatnot.
For their July 11th game against the Brewers, the Sox wore
1917 uniforms, announced player names via megaphone and dressed team employees
in period fashion. One thing rang false,
though—black players got to play.
I mean, if you really wanted to turn back the clock, you would’ve imposed
a one-day color line, benching Ivan Calderon, Lance Johnson and Sammy Sosa. As for Ozzie Guillen, Latin players not
trying to pass as native-born American started playing in the major leagues in
1911, only they were Cuban and quite white in appearance. Guillen is not the sort of person to try to
pass as anyone other than Ozzie. And if
you didn’t like his looks, well….
All of which brings us to the recent kerfuffle over the Bears’ plan to
wear throwback uniforms from 1936.
Oops. There were no black players
in the NFL back then. What to do? Basically, several players offered a kind of
time-machine defense, to argue wearing those old uniforms meant they were
integrating the past, owning it.
As long as everyone realizes the truth lies
elsewhere, I have no problem with that.
Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima
culpa.
I despaired of the White Sox sending a message to the Indians. My bad.
By winning 8-0 last night, the Sox took the season series from the Tribe
eleven games to eight while handing their playoff chances pretty much of a
death blow. Best of all, Daniel Palka
was Palka.
This family’s favorite right fielder hit his first two homeruns of the
season in consecutive at-bats, in the fourth and sixth innings. The first was a line drive, the
second-hardest hit homerun by a Sox player all year, the second a moon shot deep
to right on a starry night. As luck
would have it, we were all visiting the in-laws/grandparents just before it
happened and were on our way home in our respective cars.
Clare called Michele with both of us on the tollway (hands-free technology,
no driving statutes broken). Everyone
was home by the time of the second. In
fact, I was on the phone feigning sympathy for my fried the Cubs’ fan, with
this, his team’s ninth straight loss (three more games to go in the season,
guys. You can do it.) Call waiting was made for a time like this.
Of course, Jason Benetti and Steve Stone interviewed Palka after the
game. Who wouldn’t? You never quite know what planet Palka will
be answering from. But this time was a
little different. Midway through the
interview, Palka said “I’m busy. I’ve
got stuff to do,” took off the headset and ran into the dugout to the
clubhouse. I wonder.
Palka and Nicky Delmonico were media darlings at SoxFest and in spring
training. That status didn’t help Delmonico
from getting released midseason or Palka from getting sent to the minors, twice. I gather Daniel also had a podcast that didn’t
go the planned ten episodes. A player is
better off not dodging the media; avoiding questions will only lead to problems
down the road. But mixing the role of
athlete with that of entertainer is fraught with danger. A player could think doing well at one will cover
for slumps part of the other. It won’t.
So, maybe we have a wiser Palka on our hands. The world may not be ready for that, but who
cares?
Last night’s 8-3 White Sox win over the Indians was sweet indeed,
eliminating the Tribe from a shot at the Central Division crown. And hats off to Ross Detwiler, who climbed
off the scrap heep to pitch five effective innings for the victory.
Most of all, a tip of the cap to the Minister of Fun, Sox shortstop Tim
Anderson, who went 4 for 5 with two runs scored. Anderson
leads the majors with a .339 BA, which just happens to be 99 points
better than what he hit last year. What
happened over the course of a year?
The answer, in part, is that Anderson doesn’t try to pull
everything. Now, he’s consistently
taking pitches to right field, beating the shift time after time. Anderson’s also waiting back on balls better
than he ever has. So, if we know what
Anderson’s done, the question then becomes, how did he accomplish it?
Start with the player—Anderson wanted to change. All too often, players are too stubborn or
wed to a certain approach to consider changing.
Not Anderson, and I just hope he preaches this openness to new
approaches to his teammates. Now, for
another question: who helped him?
TV cameras are forever showing Anderson talking to hitting coach Todd
Steverson, which implies a student-teacher relationship. If that’s the case, none of the sportswriters
has picked up on it. As someone who’s
studied hitting to help further his daughter’s career, I’m curious what, if
anything, Steverson has done to help Anderson make adjustments. I don’t mean to sound skeptical, and I admit
to not being a big Todd Steverson fan.
But maybe I’m wrong. It does
happen on occasion.
What I do know is Anderson is hitting the cover off the ball; ditto Yoan
Moncada. Last season, Moncada hit an
anemic .235. This year he’s up to .313
while cutting back on his strikeouts from an egregious 217 to a nearly
tolerable 151. What or who happened to
cause a change here? Was it the shift from
second to third base, the intercessions of Todd Steverson or a combination of
factors? If only beat writers cared to
find out.
The same set of questions holds for rookie outfielder Eloy Jimenez, who’s
gone from clueless to clued over the last six weeks or so. Jimenez has raised his batting average to
.267 to go with 30 homers and 77 RBIs.
What happened to the rookie who kept lunging at balls low and outside or
swinging at pitches up in his eyes? I’m
ecstatic that version of Jimenez is gone, I and want to know how it happened.
Just in case I end up with some grandkids to coach.
It was the worst of times and the worst of times for Chicago baseball
teams Tuesday night. The Cubs lost their
seventh straight game, 9-2 in Pittsburgh, to all but end their playoff hopes
while the White Sox rolled over by a score of 11-0 for the wild-card seeking
Indians.
Like the man said, those ignorant of history are bound to repeat it. Cubs’ president Theo Epstein had better know
something about his crosstown rivals because his team sure seems to be doing a
mean imitation of the 1967 White Sox.
With five games left in the season and one game out of first place, that
Sox team managed to drop all five games, against the last-place A’s and
eighth-place Senators. Then, after an
offseason that saw the Sox trade for Luis Aparicio, Tommy Davis and Russ
Snyder, the team went out and lost its first ten games of the new season. The franchise didn’t hit bottom for another
two years.
Well, the Cubs have five all-but-meaningless games left, so they could
end the season with a twelve-game losing streak, though I’m guessing they’ll
manage to win two more games, what between the Pirates stinking and the
postseason-bound Cardinals wanting to rest regulars. After that, there’ll be plenty of changes on
the North Side. The question is, will
Epstein do any better than what the Sox GM Ed Short did in ’68?
As for my team, all you need to know is that Carson Fulmer started. Fulmer got two quick outs, after which he
sandwiched a single around two walks.
Out goes pitching coach Don Cooper for a visit. Whatever Cooper said didn’t stop Jose
Ramirez, batting for the first time in a month since suffering a broken hamate bone
in his right hand, from hitting a grand slam on a 3-1 pitch. For added measure, Ramirez turned around to
the right side to hit a three-run jack against Hector Santiago two innings
later.
This should be a message series for the Sox,
announcing that they’re a force to be reckoned with. Right.
Maybe if there were some organizational depth at pitcher that could
happen. So, we wait till next year, if
not later.
The Texas Rangers will be moving out of 26-year old Globe Life Park at
the end of the season to take up residence at Globe Life Field. What’s the difference, you ask? Well, the field has a retractable roof and
air-conditioning.
According to the Rangers’ website, GLP was designed to cool off fans with
something called a breeze; the park was designed to breathe, if you will. Unfortunately, an alteration, as in $$$ suite
project, killed the breeze, so to speak.
Rather than tear down that wall, the Rangers are building a $1.1 billion
replacement—in a public/private partnership, nudge, nudge, wink, wink—to seat
all of 40,000 people.
I bet air-conditioned GLF will have a real small carbon footprint. Just kidding.
White Sox pitching coach Don Cooper detests social media because it gives
the haters and second-guessers a platform from which to attack the team and the
coach. I agree, to a point, that being
critics don’t aid their cause by tossing around f-bombs and the like. But what the Sox front office and coaching
staff need to realize is that not every critic is a troll.
If Cooper wants to take credit for fixing Lucas Giolito, fine. Then, he can also take responsibility for not
being able to get through to the equally talented Reynaldo Lopez, who, after
yesterday’s 6-3 loss in Detroit, is 9-15 on the season with a 5.57 ERA. Trust me, we all pray Lopez undergoes a
Giolito-like turnaround, starting now.
But there’s a whole bunch of worrisome stuff to deal with. The game against Kansas City that Clare and I
went to, I mentioned to my daughter how long Lopez was taking between
pitches. After the game, he told
reporters part of the problem was rushing his pitches. Well, one of us was wrong.
Not long after, Lopez promised to be better prepared next season, which
leads to a question: why wasn’t he prepared this season? That would seem to be an area where the
pitching coach would have some sway. For
what it’s worth, a seeming lack of preparation could be one of the things that
sets off critics and trolls alike. Here’s
another.
In his previous start against Minnesota, Lopez was charged with two runs
when Luis Arraez hit a ball with crazy spin on it that eluded third baseman
Yoan Moncada. After the game, Lopez
complained about his bad luck. Sorry,
that’s a crutch, not an explanation. Or,
to invoke a cliché cum truism, you make your own luck on the field.
So, if Don Cooper wants the likes of yours truly to lay off him, he
should get to work on his talented, unfocussed right hander. Along the way, tell us what he’s doing with
Lopez and how Lopez is responding. I can’t
say for the trolls, but that approach would go a long way towards putting me in
my place.
It was fourteen years ago last month, August of 2005. Clare was just starting eighth grade, and we
were at my Aunt Fran’s 84th birthday party. Frannie was the baby in her family, eight
years younger than my mother. I was just
happy that my daughter had a great-aunt she could appreciate, and did.
The party was at my aunt’s house on the Southwest Side, with people
filling the backyard to tell family stories, share food and sing that most
joyous of songs, Happy Birthday; may the dear Lord bless you. I know my aunt and my daughter would have
kissed both at the start and end of the party because that’s the kind of family
we are. And, because that’s the kind of
father I was and it being Sunday with school the next day, we didn’t stay late.
The phone rang not long after we got back home. It was the coach for a travel team Clare had tried
out for. When they posted the various
team rosters, Clare’s name wasn’t included.
But it was all Coach’s bad, apparently.
He said Clare had in fact made the team, it was a numbers’ thing,
whatever that meant, and would she like to come play for him? We’ll see, said my wife.
The phone rang again not a minute after that strange conversation had
ended. It was another travel coach
telling Clare she had made his team. Our
thirteen-year old was so thrilled she
didn’t even know she’d made a 16u team.
And all our lives changed from that moment on.
My Aunt Fran died last week, a few weeks after her 98th
birthday. Clare took Friday off for the
funeral, and we went hitting at the batting cages later in the afternoon. A life ends, life goes on, changed yet unchangeable.
According to Chuck Garfien, who was subbing for Jason Benetti on the
White Sox TV broadcast last night from Detroit, Daniel Palka predicted he was
going to get five hits, which would raise his batting average to .100 (if only
that were a typo). Palka had to settle
for three.
How can you not help buy love a guy who handles adversity with such self-deprecating
humor? I’d say it’s an effective
approach to all that life has to throw at us.
There’s just over a week left in the season. Time to go deep, Daniel. Call it now.
The ghosts around here like to come out in autumn, drawn to the changing
leaves and filtered sunshine, I think. Yesterday,
a few were walking along the lakefront bike trail.
There was my sister Betty, on the way to senior prom 1964 at the South
Shore Country Club cum Cultural Center.
There she was taking me to the 57th Street beach after a day
at the Museum of Science and Industry, and there she was taking me to Rainbow
Beach. But she never worked at the US
Steel South Works’ plant. Those were
different ghosts, of steelworkers rushing through the gate to punch in at the
start of third shift. That would explain the breeze I felt from time to time on
the trail south of 79th Street.
The experts are right about sports being as much mental as physical. I biked a little under fifty miles
yesterday. If I thought about that
distance at the start, I’d have packed up and gone home. Fifty miles, at my age? I must be nuts. That’s probably true, but it was worth
it. All I had to do was one mile at a
time and find things to think about. Or look
for ghosts.
Part of the way I replayed Adam Engel’s throw Wednesday night in
Minnesota. The White Sox were up 2-1 in
the bottom of the eighth with two out and nobody on. Eddie Rosario muscled up on a ball that hit
the wall in right field. Somebody other
than Leury Garcia might have made the catch, but no matter. Engel raced in from center and threw a
one-hop strike to third, where Yoan Moncada was waiting to apply the tag. May his defense keep Engel in the league as
long as it did Ken Berry.
On the way back, I arranged to meet Assistant FBI Director Skinner, who
walked over from her office to meet on the lakefront at Chicago Avenue. We talked Engel; American Ninja Warrior; the
upcoming season of The Titan Games; and the water level of the lake. Put two people with five college degrees
between them, and what do you expect?
Thoughts of a child grown so big kept me going another nine miles all the
way back to the car. I parked in the
same area from when we took Clare to science fair in seventh grade at the
Museum of Science and Industry. Ghosts.
Yes, White Sox shortstop Tim Anderson is having a breakout year, what
with his .336 BA to go with 55 RBIs and 75 runs scored. And James McCann’s no slouch, either, hitting
.274 with 17 homeruns and 57 RBIs, every one of them clutch, it seems. If only every one of GM Rick Hahn’s pickups
could work out like McCann has. Still, I
wonder.
For openers, what if the Sox had kept Marcus Semien? Consider these stats [everything cited today
as of Tuesday’s games]: .281 BA/31 homers/87 RBIs/117(!) runs scored. And let’s not forget Omar Narvaez, hitting
.284 with the Mariners with 22 homers and 55 RBIs. I wonder.
What if the Sox had kept both Semien and Narvaez (we won’t even mention
Chris Bassitt or Josh Phegley here)? At
29, Semien is three years older than Anderson.
You can never have too many good shortstops. Either Anderson would’ve needed to change
positions for Semien, or vice versa. All
I know for sure is the Sox let go of a player who hit eight homers for them vs.
98—and counting—for his new team. We
traded Semien and three others for Jeff Smardzija, now of the Giant. Gosh, do you think SF would consider trading
Smardzija straight up for Semien?
A good front office has to be able to judge talent. GM Rick Hahn wasn’t up to the task, again
(see Fernando Tatis Jr. for yet another painful example). Imagine what we could get for Semien
now. Check that, imagine what a good GM
could get for Semien coming off a 30+ homer season.
Which brings us to Narvaez. A
Narvaez-McCann platoon behind the plate would translate into something like 39
homers and 112 RBIs from the catching position.
Instead, Hahn stuck with Welington Castillo. Oh, well, it could be worse, and I’m figuring
it will be. The Sox have helped mess up
Daniel Palka, who’s gone from 27 homers his first season here to two hits total
his next.
He gone, as the Hawk would say.
And he’ll go deep against us, too.
Of that you can be assured.
The headline for the website /Pravda story read, “White Sox fall but show
plenty of fight.” I guess they didn’t
want to go with “Sox bullpen coughs up lead—twice—in extra innings.” Why go all negative in a rebuild year? Why?
Because the truth will set you free, my friends. The truth will set you free.
The first such admission is that the Sox have no organizational pitching depth. Lucas Giolito can’t start, so he gets
replaced with Ross Detwiler. Giolito is
the light, Detwiler the dark; Giolito summer and Detwiler winter. You get the idea. Detwiler lasted five innings against the
Twins, giving up five runs to push his ERA to 6.98 on the season.
But like the headline said, the Sox fought back; Zack Collins and Adam
Engel even went back-to-back. Not only
did the Sox tie the score, they had bases loaded with one out in the tenth,
Engel up. And what does manager Rick
Renteria do? He pinch-hits for
Engel. Nothing like a popup from Ryan
Goins to get the old juices flowing, right, Rick? Why not try the suicide with Engel, especially
since the speedy Yoan Moncada was on third?
Let the truth set you free, Rick.
Along those lines, explain why you went with Jose Ruiz in the 12th
inning with the Sox up by two. Here’s
what Ruiz did: single, double, strikeout, two-run single, single, single,
walk-off hit-by-pitch. After the fourth
base hit, pitching coach Don Cooper trotted out to the mound. Which of the three things Cooper knows did he
impart on Ruiz? Tell the truth, Don.
And, since we’re in truth-and-reconciliation mode here, could you tell
us, Rick, your future plans for Ruiz, with his 5.87 ERA and WHIP at 2.01? In his last two appearances, Ruiz has walked
in the winning run and hit a batter to accomplish the same. Now, tell the truth, Rick. When you said, “I don’t want to lose anymore,”
that was just a big fib, right?
One of the realities of life in and around Chicago is that the local media
suffers from 24/7 Bears’ fever, oh, 300 or so days a year. Nothing, and I mean nothing, gets in the way
of heaps of coverage. All other
professional teams that call this place home ignore this reality at their own
risk. I swear the White Sox ignore the
obvious.
What a 65-85 record means, then, is next to non-existent coverage come
September. Turn away from the TV for a
second, and you’ll miss any mention of Chicago’s other baseball team; step into
the pantry for a can of soup, and you won’t hear mention of the South Siders on
the radio. Look anywhere else but the
back page of sports for a story on the Sox, and you’ll be disappointed.
Yesterday, the Tribune was all agog over the Bears’ Eddie Pinero kicking
the winning field goal against Denver with time expiring. No place for the Sox on page one, or two, or
three, or four, or five, or six, or seven.
No, their special hell was reserved for page eight, a single column to
run a wire story in. But, hey, it could
be worse.
The WNBA Sky made the playoffs for the fifth time in seven years, an
accomplishment that would probably have to be explained to Sox GM Rick
Hahn. On Sunday, they had the bad
fortune of losing in the second round against the Las Vegas Aces, 93-92, due to
a turnover with seconds left that led to an improbable Las Vegas three-pointer.
The story, if 5-1/2 single-column inches counts as a story, ran beneath
the Sox piece. That’s what happens in a
football town.
White Sox manager Rick Renteria told the Athletic today, “I don’t want to
lose anymore. I want to win.” Renteria sure has a funny way of showing it.
In the bottom of the tenth inning, the Mariners’ Omar Narvaez (remember
him? He’s hitting .279 with 21*
homeruns) lined a ball that hit off the top of the wall in right and bounced
back onto the field of play. Most
everyone, including the Seattle broadcast crew excerpted on the MLB website,
thought it was a double. The umpires
ruled it a home run, then hesitated, then ruled it a homerun.
At some point, rebuilding teams want to establish a winning culture. The manager in this instance should’ve gone
all Billy Martin/Earl Weaver, kicking up a storm the instant Narvaez moved off
of second base. Yesterday, MLB issued a statement
apologizing for the “miscommunication [between umpires and Renteria that]
resulted in not reviewing the home-run call on the field.” If the manager had been doing his job and
fighting to win a ballgame, the umpires would’ve been made to focus their
attention, pronto.
Then, yesterday, in what was a 10-5 Sox lead going into the bottom of the
eighth, Renteria had Hector Santiago go out after pitching 3.2 innings of
scoreless relief. Renteria kept Santiago
in after a leadoff single followed by a walk followed by another single. Only then did he change pitchers. Out of the frying pan and into the fire they
went with Kelvin Herrera on the mound. I
say this because Herrera already had given up six homers in just 44.1 innings
of work. Boom. Make that seven. Not long afterward, the five-run lead turned
into a tie.
Not to worry, because the top of the Sox order is up against 28-year old
journeyman Austin Adams. Guess
what? Adams struck out the side—Tim
Anderson, Yoan Moncada and Jose Abreu—on eleven pitches. Anderson and Moncada went down on three
pitches apiece and moped their ways back to the dugout in what would’ve made me
go ballistic if I ever caught my daughter doing that. Abreu, bless him, is a professional who at
least worked the count and didn’t look like a child afterwards.
As for the bottom of the ninth, Jose Ruiz
pitched. Oh, and he walked in the
winning run, but you might expect that of someone with a 5.21 ERA. Funny—or sad, depending—how four out of the
five relievers the Sox used had ERAs in excess of 4.5 (ditto starter Ivan
Nova). As my friend Forrest might say,
losing baseball is as losing baseball does, from the front office down to the
dugout. But, hey, it’s a rebuild, and
nothing counts. Don’t worry. Be happy.
I wonder if, in his nine seasons as an NFL receiver, Don Beebe ever
thought he’d be pacing the sidelines as a college head coach? In any of his five Superbowl appearances, did
Beebe ever sense he’d be spending a Saturday afternoon in Elmhurst with his
Aurora University Spartans facing off against the Bluejays? I wonder.
I can’t say I saw Beebe dominating the Aurora side of the field; he
stands just 5’11”, a normal size like most of the Elmhurst players. But his team definitely dominated to the tune
of 48-22. Does it help recruiting to
have a former NFL player as your coach? Are
players more inclined to listen to someone who raced downfield in Super Bowl
XXVII to strip the ball from the Cowboys’ Leon Lett before Lett could reach the
end zone? I’d hazard a guess on both questions, Yes.
It was a day to appreciate small blessings—blue sky, steady breeze out of
the west, an occasional sack or fumble recovery by the home team. The company was nice, too, what with
Assistant FBI Director Skinner sitting next to me for the second time in four
days. Clare mentioned that one of the
softball teams pulled out of the National Pro Fastpitch League. She doesn’t see how the NPF can survive. The league will be down to five franchises,
with two of them basically for members of the Chinese and Canadian teams.
Did Don Beebe ever
think he’d be coaching a college game where two spectators were busy talking
12-inch softball? I wonder.
Jabberwocky
Earlier this week, Cubs’ president Theo Epstein gave a radio interview in
which he said, “You want to put out a team…that gets the most out of its
ability. We clearly haven’t done that. It’s immensely frustrating to me. I feel that responsibility on behalf of our
fans that are watching us.” Epstein made
these remarks with his team ten games above .500 (and eleven as we speak) and
fighting for a wildcard spot. If they
succeed, the Cubs will be appearing in the postseason for the fifth straight
year.
In today’s Tribune, White Sox manager Rick Renteria was quoted, “We are
trying to win. I know there’s still
refining to do, but I’ll be honest with you, we are finishing this season, we
are talking about coming into next season ready to battle. Period.
Exclamation point.” Renteria spoke a day before his team moved to
seventeen games under .500 with a win in Seattle. The Sox have not been in the postseason since
2008 and have not finished above .500 since 2012. That’s seven straight years for anyone who’s
counting, although only three years into the official team rebuild.
So, Sox fans, who would you want speaking for
your team, Theo or Rick/Rick?
Dave Dombrowski guides the Red Sox to a championship in 2018 and gets
fired not even eleven months later. Rick
Hahn clinches his seventh straight year as White Sox general manager without
reaching .500, and he looks to have the job for life. What am I missing?
Does Hahn get a perpetual pass because he traded for Lucas Giolito, who
struck out eight straight Royals’ batters yesterday? Does the pass extend to pitching coach Don
Cooper, who couldn’t keep Giolito from giving up two mammoth homeruns in a 6-3 loss? I’m afraid we all know the answer to that
question.
By my count, Cooper knows maybe three things (and what fun it would be to
guess what they are. Maybe the cable people
could run a contest to take the place of that “authentic fan” nuisance.). Consider that in two games with Giolito and
Reynaldo Lopez pitching, Kansas City hitter launched—and I do mean launched—seven
balls out of the park. I say Sox
pitchers are tipping their pitches.
What say you, Don? And Rick?
What say you?
Wrigley Field is a true urban ballpark, or was. It sits smack dab in the middle of a city
neighborhood, or what used to be a city neighborhood. The surrounding area known as Wrigleyville
feels more like those new mall developments that try to recreate city life, if
only everyone drove a Tesla or Land Rover.
Wrigley has become a variation on Cheers, where everyone looks the same.
Guaranteed Rate Whatever is a mallpark dropped in the middle of a city
neighborhood, my neighborhood, or my father’s, actually. The White Sox will forever be identified with
Bridgeport, and that will always leave them with a tint of blue. I guess that would make the Sox Chicago’s
team of color.
The old Bridgeport that I knew from visits with my father to see his
mother still exists in pockets. Houses
aren’t sold as much as passed on, and vacancies are filled by word of
mouth. But Irish and Polish Bridgeport
has made space for Chinese and Hispanic residents, and millennials, both the
hip and the gentrifier. Motorized
rickshaws never used to work their way along 35th Street. They do now.
As for all those Divvy ports, I can only imagine what my dad would say.
These were among the observations I had driving to the park yesterday for
what had to suffice as our family tradition of going to the last home game of
the season; Assistant FBI Director Skinner’s schedule won’t allow it this
year. So, we settled on a Wednesday
night game against the Royals, the temperature at game time around 80
degrees. Did I mention that the Royals
hit four homeruns off of Reynaldo Lopez?
They did.
But it’s the small pleasures you come to live for, posing for the family
selfie; doing play-by-play with your daughter; honoring your father by eating
at the park only because it’s dollar hotdog night. Clare said she envied the ball boy, who warmed
up Eloy Jimenez between innings. “I’ve
got my glove in the car,” sighed the assistant director, “but I don’t think
they’ll let me come back in.” A pity.
We had really good seats, second row from the field, maybe thirty feet back
of third base. Twice foul balls came our
way, and both times father and child tried to get one. Lo and behold, they did, only it was a
different dad and kid. The first time,
the man behind us spilled a little of his beer on his son, a boy all of four in
a dinosaur tee-shirt. The second time,
dad snared the ball and immediately handed it to his son.
By the look of wonder on the boy’s face, Christmas had come early, and
not even Assistant FBI Director Skinner cared to disagree.
Immaturity is the buzzkill of professional sports: Odell Beckham Jr. wearing a $190,000 while
lining up to catch a pass, any ballplayer “pimping” a homerun, even those that
aren’t. I need a hero, not a clown.
All of which brings us to White Sox left fielder Eloy Jimenez, who hit
his first-ever grand slam last night against the Royals. For the umpteenth time this season, Jimenez
waved to the camera after getting back to the dugout and mouthed the words “Hi,
Mom” for the camera. This routine got
old for me a long time ago, until yesterday.
Watching Jimenez celebrate, yet again, I now think he was being serious,
if such a thing is possible for a man-child.
Jimenez doesn’t exactly have the
demeanor of Dick Butkus, and why should he?
They’re two different human beings, the one perpetually joyful the other
a stand-in for the Grim Reaper. I worry
about innocence existing in the face of bald commerce; after all, things didn’t
go well for Roy Hobbs. But if the real
Eloy Jimenez is the one with the ready smile rather than the Butkus-ian death
glare, it falls on the White Sox to protect their rookie star and ensure that
he matures without ever becoming buzzkill.
There’s more than enough of that going around already.
With infielders Javy Baez and Addison Russell injured, the Cubs have
called up their number-one prospect, shortstop Nico Hoerner. Taken in the first round of the 2018 Draft,
Hoerner spent the season at Double-A Tennessee.
Putting so young a player on the major-league roster in September is not
how the White Sox do things. No, General
Manager Rick Hahn would’ve waited until next year, late April, to be
exact. Top Sox prospects—and I mean no
disrespect to Danny Mendick, who I hope has a long major-league career—do not
get rushed to fill the breech. Oh, they
used to (see Alex Fernandez and Frank Thomas), but that was long ago, when the
Sox played meaningful Septembers.
In seven years under Hahn, his teams have never played
a meaningful September, and, unless they make up a seventeen-game deficit, will
never have finished at .500 or above.
But hats off to Hoerner, who went three for five with four RBIs and a
triple in his big-league debut last night against the Padres. Maybe Nick Madrigal and Luis Robert can match
that come next April, late April, of course.
There are grinder success stories in the NFL and NBA, no doubt. Athletes can beat the odds whatever the
sport. It’s just that 300-pound lineman
and 6’6” point guards don’t look like the average Joe (or Jane). Thank heavens for baseball.
According to yesterday’s box scores, rookie Nick Solak, the pride of
Naperville North, had himself a very nice day with the Rangers. The 5’11” Solak went three for four with four
RBIs to raise his average to .328, which ain’t bad. In fact, it’s almost as good as Danny
Mendick’s .357.
Granted, the 5’10” Mendick has only batted fourteen times with the White
Sox in September, but he already has his first career homerun, that coming
yesterday against the Angels. In a
postgame interview, Mendick offered that his baseball journey has been
“surreal,” taking him from junior college to the University of
Massachusetts-Lowell to 22nd round draft pick by the Sox and now to
the bigs. Mendick says surreal, I say
heartwarming.
And let’s not forget 5’10” Mike Brosseau, the pride of Munster, IN, by
way of Oakland University outside Detroit; Brosseau has himself six homers to
go with a .282 average. Last and least
only on account of his .229 BA is 5’11” Nicky Lopez out of Naperville
Central. The Royals are giving Lopez a
shot at second base. Right now, his
defense is further along than his offense.
Here’s hoping the hitting comes along.
Here’s a grinder’s dream—the above four someday playing in the All-Star
Game. Wouldn’t that drive the analytics’
crowd crazy?
I often wonder how much of the CCIW (College Conference of Illinois and
Wisconsin) rubbed off on Assistant FBI Director Skinner, aka my daughter
Clare. Why? Because the CCIW has produced some
interesting athletes since its beginnings in 1946.
For openers, there’s former center Jack Sikma, just inducted into the NBA
Hall of Fame; Sikma played for Elmhurst rival Illinois Wesleyan. So did Doug Rader of the Astros. Quarterback Kenny Anderson went from
Augustana (where the softball field was bordered by a rocky bluff on one end
and railroad tracks on thet oother) the Super Bowl with the Bengals. And let’s not forget Wheaton College, which
pretty much claims to have sent half a million football players to the pro
ranks.
Part of the CCIW’s mystique, if you will, is that it’s D-III sports;
nobody’s playing their game for anything but love. Mix that with a chip-on-the-shoulder attitude
of players who could’ve been D-I but for some reason weren’t; Assistant
Director Skinner definitely fits into that category as someone who was invited
to walk on at two D-I programs. I’ve
seen football and softball games where the intensity matches anything ESPN
televises on a Saturday afternoon, with players just as skilled (if not at
every position). Clare holds a number of
offensive records at Elmhusrt. Because
of the conference, that counts for something.
Too bad female athletes don’t get the same kind of chance to turn pro the
way male athletes do. That would really
add to the CCIW’s already oversized reputation.
This really dates me, but what the hell.
It was either 1967 or ’68, when Jim Ninowski backed up Sonny Jurgensen
with the Redskins. My guess is the game
11-28-68 against the Redskins. Ninowski
started and threw for 280 yards. Or it
could have been the next week when he came in to relieve Jurgensen against
Cleveland or the week before at Philadelphia or even the last game of the
seasons vs. the Lions. Take your pick.
Anyway, Ninowski faced third-and-30.
I remember—or think I do—because it struck me as an absolutely impossible
amount of yardage to gain on one play.
But guess what? Ninowski pulled
it off.
Then again, he had receivers like Charley Taylor and Jerry Smith to throw
to. There’s nobody of that caliber on
the Bad News Bears. First-and-40, who ya
gonna call? Pat O’Donnell, the punter,
that’s who.
I like baseball over football, always have and always will. Give me the sublime over the ferocious, or
pretentious, any day. Yesterday offered
plenty of reasons why.
As an organization, the White Sox are desperate to show their rebuild is
working. Forget the team being 62-78, GM
Rick Hahn and company tell their fans, trust us, trust the process. Even doubters like yours truly can be made to
believe, sort of.
In his previous start, Dylan Cease gave up eight runs in two
innings. Tuesday night in Cleveland,
Cease struck out eleven Indians in 6.2 innings of an eventual Sox win. In his previous start, Reynaldo Lopez couldn’t
get out of the first inning. Yesterday,
he threw his first-ever complete game, a 7-1 one-hitter against the Tribe.
And let’s not forget Danny Mendick, the 22nd-rounder who won’t
let you forget him. Mendick went two for
three in Cleveland yesterday. How many ballplayers
can say their first hit in the major leagues was a two-strike bunt? Mendick can.
This is the kind of stuff that keeps a baseball fan interested. I mean, I don’t like the Cubs, but hats off
to Kyle Schwarber. How can you hate a
guy like Schwarber? He’s challenged
defensively and tempted by everything in the refrigerator. That said, he’s made himself into an adequate
left fielder and kept a whole lot of weight off the past two seasons. Schwarber has also hit 34 homeruns this
season, including a grand slam in last night’s win over the Brewers. The man with the beer-leagues’ physique is a big
part of the reason the Cubs are still contending for a wild-card spot if not
the lead in the NL Central Division.
And then we have the Bears, all hype and little bite. Everywhere you look or go, it’s Bears, Bears,
Bears. Move over, ’85, for Super Bowl
Shuffle 2.0. Only Aaron Rodgers and the
Packers beat the home team 10-3 last night at Soldier Field. Some offense.
Some defense.
Head coach Matt Nagy does a mean imitation of Inspector Gadget, only that
stuff grows old after a while. And Nagy
seems afraid to give quarterback Mitch Trubisky free reign, for better or
worse. Once nice thing about all the
hype, though, is the reaction to defeat.
You get what you reap, even if you happen to be a football team owned by
the McCaskey family.
So, let the name calling and finger pointing
commence. I get to follow Danny Mendick
for another three weeks.
Addict, gawker, masochist—I can’t help myself. I try not to watch the White Sox, only to end
up sitting in front of the TV and watching in disbelief.
Among other things, I can tell you that Bad Ivan Nova is back in a big
way. Last night, Nova gave up six runs
on eleven hits in just 4.1 innings; throw in a little Josh Osich, and the score
stood at 8-2 Cleveland going into the eighth inning. Then Jose Abreu hit a two-run homer, and Tim
Anderson did likewise in the ninth.
Eventually, the Sox loaded the bases in the ninth but couldn’t score.
There are all sorts of positive takeaways for an “authentic fan” like in
the ads. Abreu really is having a B+
year with 29 homers and 106 RBIs. Ditto
Anderson with his .331 BA, this despite walking all of eleven times in 417 at-bats. Even the big baby looks to have turned a
corner. Or maybe we should refer to Eloy
Jimenez as Babe. Either way, Jimenez has
his BA up to .255 to go with 24 homers and 57 RBIs in just 385 at-bats.
Going into the ninth inning, Jimenez already had two hits on the
night. With the bases loaded, he worked
the count from 0-2 to full. And then he
hit the ball, a rocket over the head of center fielder Oscar Mercado. What should have been a bases-clearing double
or triple instead turned into an over-the-shoulder diving grab by Mercado. But you have to like how Jimenez approached
the at-bat, sensing the game was on the line and creaming the ball. That’s what gaining experience does for a
player.
Now, here’s the thing. Leury
Garcia had a terrible game in center for the Sox, looking terrible on four
balls that came his way, three for hits; Mercado provided a tutorial on how to
play the position. Too bad it was only
for Garcia’s benefit.
Imagine if Luis Robert had been there in the ninth inning to see Jimenez’s
at-bat and Mercado’s catch. Seeing is
believing is learning, if only my wreck of a team dared think so.
Assistant FBI Director Skinner called last night to discuss the White Sox
call-ups. (In case you’re wondering,
Clare got a big promotion at work, to assistant director of something, and what
better way to celebrate than a new nickname that combines the formal title with
Clare’s longstanding dislike of my TV tastes, including the X-Files?) The assistant director was happy to see
Daniel Palka back from Triple A, if not quite the dead.
Of course, Luis Robert and Nick Madrigal, the two most-ready-for-big-league-action-now
prospects, were not part of the mix.
From high-A to the bigs in just one season would be asking too much of
the kids, said a concerned Sox GM Rick Hahn.
Service time had nothing to do with it, Hahn also told reporters. Whatever.
Among the call-ups is catcher/first baseman Zack Collins, a first-round
pick taken by the Sox in 2016, tenth overall and ten ahead of infielder Gavin
Lux for the Dodgers. Lux hails from that
mysterious land known as Wisconsin, which apparently does not appear on any
maps or GPS systems used by Sox scouts.
Better yet, Lux is the nephew of the baseball coach at Carthage College
of the good old CCIW. Who knows, maybe
we saw Lux without knowing it on one of our trips to Wisconsin to see Clare and
Elmhurst square off against Carthage. Of
course, that would’ve depended on Lux’s high school varsity schedule at the
time.
In two stints with the Sox totaling ten games,
Collins is hitting .103 with a homerun and three RBIs. In two games with the Dodgers, Lux is three
for nine with three runs scored. You can
see why the Sox wouldn’t be having any second thoughts about who they
drafted. The Sox never have second
thoughts, if any.
After yesterday’s 11-3 humiliation in Cleveland, the White have
themselves a seven-game losing streak, all against teams likely to make the postseason. Has there ever been an organization more in
need of new ownership and direction?
This is what the purported rebuild gave Sox fans on Labor Day—a game
started by Ross Detwiler, who made it to two outs in the third inning; that translated
into four earned runs and a 6.79 ERA on the season. Next on the mound was former first-round draft pick
Carson Fulmer; two earned runs in two innings gives Fulmer a 5.66 ERA, which
isn’t nearly as bad as Manny Bvanuelos’.
Four runs in an inning of work leaves Banuelos with a 7.52 ERA.
That should be good enough to earn him a start.
The nice thing about September is that, when it ends, so will the seventh
consecutive sub-.500 season for the White Sox, not to be confused with year
three of the rebuild. If the last six
games are an accurate indicator, the Sox have a strong shot at eight straight
years come next September. What that
says about the rebuild, you be the judge.
Right now, three games against the first-place Twins and three games
against the first-place Braves equal a six-game losing streak going into
Cleveland. Not only is my favorite team
losing, they’re losing bad, to the tune of being outscored by 24 runs during
the steak. No pop, no pitching, but that
just means good draft position come next June, right, Rick?
Here’s what will drive loyal Sox fans to despair. GM Hahn and manager Rick Renteria have both
indicated that no decisions have been made about September call-ups because of
Triple-A Charlotte’s playoff chances.
Wow, I didn’t know that was something to worry about. So, all the guys in Charlotte have to stay
there for the push to make the postseason.
But wait.
The Sox just activated pitchers Manny Banuelos and Carson Fulmer from the
IL. Doesn’t Charlotte need them? Maybe Charlotte doesn’t want them, Fulmer
with a 4.76 ERA in the minors, Banuelos with a 6.90 ERA for the Sox.
Yup, the rebuild looks like it’ll extend well
into the next decade.