The other day Ozzie Guillen and Bryce Harper got into a pissy little fight over how much pine tar was on Harper’s bat. On Monday, some Nationals’ veterans figured out a good way to defuse it all:
They had the unknowing Harper sign a bat and added a message along with a generous amount of pine tar before sending it to the Marlins’ clubhouse. “It had pine tar all over the place,” Guillen said, laughing. “They put the rest: ‘To my hero, Ozzie. Love you.’ I thought it was funny.”
The peacemakers: Edwin Jackson, who Guillen managed in Chicago, and Adam LaRoche, whose father used to play with Guillen. I suppose all the fuss is over now.
Which, good. But man, this whole “every Bryce Harper controversy turns into a happy little story in the end” stuff is getting a little old. It’s like Clint Eastwood on his farm at the beginning of “Unforgiven,” saying “I ain’t like that anymore.” Eventually something’s gonna happen that’s gonna make Harper kill someone’s wife, all his friends, and burn his damn house down, right? Figuratively I mean. Because we can’t escape out nature?
There’s a saying that goes “nothing good ever happens after 2AM.” It can also be said that nothing good ever happens after, say, week 5 or 6 of spring training.
Today, for instance, are a lot of inconsequential games. Those are neutral. Then there are a rash of these sorts of incidents which just went down today, all of which are bad:
Archer seems to be OK for now. Moncada walked off his thing and went back into the game. We’re still waiting to hear on Bumgarner and Ichiro. If there is anything serious with them we’ll update as we learn things.
But really, guys: Spring Training is too long. Even in a year like this one, when it’s a tad shorter than usual because of an early start to the regular season. Everyone who was gonna get their timing down well enough to make a big league roster has already done so. If someone isn’t healthy and in playing shape now, they’re not gonna be six days from now for Opening Day. The cake, as they say, is baked.
All that can happen is possessed-by-the-devil baseballs attacking unsuspecting players and injuring them in meaningless exhibitions. Let’s cease all baseball now until the regular season starts. Out of an abundance of caution.