April 29, 2008...8:02 pm
Baseball Trio: Shame, Blame, Maim
As if I don’t have enough to worry about with my life, my family, and the miserable state of the world, I’m now losing sleep over the plight of some of my favorite ball players. Tragic shit is happening here:
1. Shamed: Barry Zito.
The SF Giants just demoted pitcher Barry Zito, from starting rotation into the bullpen. The announcement came the day after Zito’s worst performance of the season, a three-inning, eight-run outing in a 10-1 loss to Cincinnati. That dropped Zito’s record to a Major League-worst of 0-6. The Giants signed Barry last year at the inflated sum of $126M on a seven -year contract. Zito, formerly one of the A’s best starting pitchers and a Cy Young Award winner, immediately fell apart under the pressure. (See The Ballad of Barry Zito) Suddenly he couldn’t find the strike zone, and he finished 2007 with an ERA of 4.53. During Spring Training word came floating out that Zito seemed to be doing better. Hah!
You can’t blame the Giants for finally taking action—but you can blame them for having paid so much for Barry in the first place. His overall performance didn’t warrant it: Zito had already experienced slumps in Oakland. He was 6-7 with a 5.01 ERA through late July 2001, began 2005 with an 0-4 record and an April ERA of 6.60, and was 7.54 through his first three starts of 2006. I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere deep inside Zito knows his salary is over-sized, and his inner conflict is messing up his game. This is a hyper aware guy, a sensitive dude who practices yoga and meditates. He’s acknowledged that he needs to tweak his mental outlook, naming his current problems “a mindset.”
I for one would love to see the Giants release Zito from his contract, and let him go back home to Oakland. There’s just something about the Athletics, something fun and familial. Hell, if Frank Thomas can go home again, why not Barry Zito?
2. Blamed. Roger Clemens.
First it was steroids…then he threw his wife under the bus…now comes word that the self-proclaimed quintessential Family Man had an affair with an underage singer. Why this has suddenly become front page news is anybody’s guess. I suppose once you start threatening lawsuits and throw around phrases like defamation of character, all your skeletons come clattering out of the closet.
I used to love Rocket Man Clemens. I loved his ferocity, his arrogance…he earned the right to be somewhat arrogant. I don’t give a shit what he does in his private life, but the fact that his love object was fifteen years old is a little disgusting (shades of Mormon polygamists). Worse even is watching a once admired and respected titan of the game go down in flames. As Mike Greenberg said today on Mike and Mike in the Morning, this is “a very unattractive story.”
With all his legal and public relations problems, Roger’s finally been forced into retirement. The big question now is, Will he get into the Hall of Fame? How can he not, given his record? It seems crazy to me, but the people who vote for Hall of Fame status—sportswriters—are likely to keep him out as a form of social censure. Apparently there’s no room in sports history for bad boys. Just ask Pete Rose.
3. Maimed: Jorge Posada
For the first time in his 14-year career, Yankee catcher Jorge Posada is on the Disabled List. His shoulder’s been giving him trouble, and an MRI showed that it’s torn. Poor Jorge is so mortified he’s been apologizing to his teammates: talk about integrity! I once blew away some guy who didn’t take female baseball mavens seriously—he mockingly asked if Derek Jeter was my favorite Yankee, expecting me to be crazy for the pretty boy on the team. No, I replied in all honesty, my favorite player is Jorge Posada.
To begin with, I’m in awe of catchers. While the rest of the team hangs in the dugout shooting the bull, the catcher’s out there, crouched on his calves, a physical position I cannot maintain for more than ten seconds without cramping. He deals with the personality quirks of psycho pitchers, stays alert for base-stealers, and runs around making outs by catching the fouls that come his way. He also controls much of the game, calling the pitches. If the catcher happens to be Jorge Posada, he does it with extreme competence and grace. While most catchers are Number 9 in the line-up, with not much bat action expected of them, Posada’s always put in the middle. Last year his batting average was .338.
At the age of 36, Posada’s coming face to face with his mortality. “It’s very disappointing,” Posada said endearingly. “It’s the biggest disappointment in my career, probably, being on the DL and not being able to participate in games.” I tell you, the guy could just break my heart. His teammates aren’t thrilled about losing him either. As Joba Chamberlain said, “[The loss is] huge, not only on the field, but off the field, in his leadership.”
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go write letters of support to Jorge and Barry. Roger? I think I’ll just stay out of that mess. It really is a very unattractive story!
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