UPDATE: Braden has contacted me on Twitter, taking issue. He says that he does not believe all welfare recipients are “leeches.” Rather, only those who use drugs and receive public assistance are “leeches.” He has not explained to me how that squares with his desire to “test the welfare leeches” for drugs. Because, if they’re only leeches once they use, why are we testing them? We already know they use!
Braden is a pitcher, not a writer, so it’s possible that he merely mistyped and demanded that something else be done with “leeches” besides testing them. And that the testing not be for “leeches” but for the good people who have fallen on hard time. So that we can determine if, in fact, they are leeches.
9:14 AM: One can believe that the welfare state as currently constructed is not the best way to help those in need and/or is not the best use of resources. That’s just a matter of philosophy and politics and values and stuff and reasonable people can disagree without being rude and insensitive.
Unemployed pitcher Dallas Braden, however, is not interested in philosophical debates:
Pretty big talk for a guy who took nearly $7 million from the Athletics for a grand total of three starts between 2011 and 2012.
Oh, wait: you mean there were extenuating circumstances there? His inability to pitch those years was because of injury and not because he was some lazy leech sucking off the teet of some rich benefactor without doing anything in return? That he actually would have preferred to work for his money but simply was unable to due to the hand he was dealt? But that’s impossible! I am told by people like Braden himself that everyone who is paid without having to work is an awful bum.
In other news: there are some people from the 209 who live on government assistance. I wonder what they think of their crusading superhero and lord protector.
Terry Francona just won the American League pennant, the Manager of the Year Award and his Cleveland Indians will likely be among the favorites to win it all in 2017. Between that and his 17-year track record as one of the best managers in the business, he will have a job, somewhere, for as long as he wants one.
He said yesterday, however, that his body will likely limit how long he manages:
“It gets harder and harder physically. It really does. It takes me longer to recharge every year . . . I’ve had a lot of surgeries, a lot of health problems. It just takes a toll on you. I love [the game of baseball]. I really do, but I can’t see myself doing something else. But there is going to come a day when I feel like I’m shortchanging the team or the organization. That’s not fair.
“Even now, during batting practice, I’ll come in and get off my feet a little bit. I think everybody understands. But when there comes a day when it gets in the way, I’m going to have to pull back, and it’s not because I don’t love managing. You have to have a certain amount of energy to do this job right.”
Francona experienced some chest pains and had an elevated heart rate that caused him to leave a game early last season. In 2005 a similar episode caused him to miss three games while managing the Red Sox. He also has a history of embolisms and blood clots, some of which have hospitalized him.
With multiple World Series rings there isn’t much more in baseball that Francona can accomplish, but here’s hoping he sticks around and accomplishes a lot more before he trades in his baseball spikes for golf spikes and calls it a career.
A month or so ago it was reported that David Ortiz was going to meet with the Red Sox and NESN to discuss, maybe, spending some time in the broadcast booth in 2017. He’s retired now, of course. Gotta keep busy.
Today we read that, yes, Big Papi may take the mic. Red Sox president Sam Kennedy said that Ortiz may be in the booth on a limited basis, and that Ortiz has talked about wanting to “dip a toe in that water.”
I’m quickly becoming a fan of ex-players who want to, as Kennedy puts it, “dip a toe” in broadcasting as opposed to those who want to make it a full-time job. Former players who become full-time broadcasters tend to start out OK, but eventually burn all of their good anecdotes from their playing days and just become sort of reactionary “back in my day” dudes. There are some exceptions to that of course — guys like John Smoltz and Dennis Eckersley have kept it fresh and Tim McCarver never rested on his playing laurels as he forged a long career in the booth — but for any of those guys there are just as many Rick Mannings Bill Schroeders.
The part time guys who dip in and dip out — I’m thinking Pedro Martinez, Alex Rodriguez and even Pete Rose, who did a good job this past fall after a rocky 2015 postseason — tend to be more fresh and irreverent. They really don’t give a crap on some level because it’s not their full time job, and that not giving a crap allows them to say whatever they want. It makes for good TV.
If Papi can hold off on the F-bombs, I imagine he’d be a pretty good commentator. If he can’t, well, at least he’ll be a super entertaining one for the one or two games he gets before getting fired.