Idiots Write About Sports

Soaked in the sun at the A’s-Cubs Cactus League opener today. The result — an 8-7 A’s loss on a walk-off botched fielding play — is not the kind of thing you want to see. Nor is the fact that all of the A’s runs — all of ‘em — came off some non-roster invitee by the name of Bryan Corey who served the Oakland batters a steady stream of batting practice fastballs. The actual major league pitchers — Carlos Zambrano and Ryan Dempster — easy quieted the A’s bats, allowing only a seeing-eye grounder through the first four innings.

And yet… who cares? The games don’t carry over into April last time I checked. The sun was out, the beer — while paltry and domestic in selection — was cold, and the afternoon was thoroughly enjoyable. If there is a better feeling on this earth than spending the time you would normally be confined to your desk watching real live baseball while enjoying a frosty beverage in 70-degree weather, please let this correspondent know so that he can live a more complete life.

The entire experience was so pleasant that I wasn’t even put off by the assemblage of chuckle-heads behind me who committed the three transgressions which will cause you to zoom past Go and head directly to Irritant Jail.

1) Complain loudly and repeatedly about the quality of your seats. (Sir, you are at spring training. The worst seat in the ballpark affords you an up-close-and-personal view of the goings-on. And if that fails to provide solace, then perhaps you can take out the second mortgage and spring for something more expensive than grandstand seats.)

2) Carry on about the events on the field as if they actually have any sort of impact upon the season ahead. (“We’re in midseason form,” crowed one of the yayhoos as the Cubs jumped out to an early lead… in the first inning… of the first game… of practice.)

3) Let no thought, no matter how banal, go unuttered.

That last one demands a little bit of amplification.

Unimpressed by the presence of Ronny Cedeno in the Cubs lineup, one of the blowhards argued longly and loudly that the Cubs should have traded for a certain disgruntled Baltimore shortstop.

“That Teaheeta hits .330 and 40 homers every year,” the guy proclaimed.

Now I’m a huge fan of Miguel Tejada — and his evil doopleganger, Manuel Teaheeta — but let’s look at the record, shall we? Tejada’s highest batting average was his .311 tally in 2004. He’s topped the .300 mark three times in his nine seasons and sports a career average of .280 entering the 2006 campaign. He’s hit 34 homers in a season twice, but as most math professors will argue quite convincingly, 34 isn’t exactly 40.

Tejada is, of course, an excellent player. But he’s owed quite a bit of dosh the next four years, he’s probably not going to be reaching those mythical .330/40-homer figures by the time that contract comes up, and the Orioles will understandably demand a large return in exchange for his services. Cedeno, on the other hand, seems like a perfectly credible Major League prospect and certainly a cheaper option at that.

If the presence of Tejada is the one thing standing between you and a division title, then yeah, you make that deal. But the Cubs have a lot more pressing concerns than whether their shortstop is a one-time MVP or an upcoming prospect.

Of course, this particular line of reasoning would probably not resonate with the folks behind me, as one of them observed, “You never have to apologize for putting Neifi Perez in a lineup,” and he wasn’t immediately reduced to tears by the vitriol and ridicule of his companions.

If I may correct the fellow behind me: Yes. You absolutely must apologize for putting Neifi Perez in a lineup. In fact, each time you do it, the following announcement should probably appear on the scoreboard or be read over the loudspeaker:

To the fans of Chicago:

It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that I have written a lineup in which Neifi Perez appears. I realize that mere words alone cannot explain away this affront to common sense, but you must understand — I see a man with Major League experience on my roster, and I can’t help but play him, even if it’s to the detriment of my team. I can’t help myself. Today, Shawon Dunston stopped by to serve as an honorary base coach during the third inning, and it took every bit of my self-control to refrain from sending him to the plate to pinch hit for Derek Lee. Even now, I’m thinking of calling up Jim Hendry and demanding we sign Shawon for one last run. He knows how to win. He always has.

Anyway, Neifi’s in the lineup and I feel very badly about it, but there’s nothing I can really do because it’s out of my hands. Well… it’s not, but I lack the imagination to come up with any other plan of attack. Enjoy that 680 OPS with my compliments.

Sincerely,
Johnnie B. Baker Jr.

For non-venemous accounts of today’s spring training get-together, consult Catfish Stew where Ken Arneson gives a much more thorough recap of the game than I did, even though I was there and he wasn’t.

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