Grant Brisbee of Baseball Nation writes an open letter to the Cincinnati Reds saying what the vast majority of people outside of the Greater Cincinnati Metropolitan area are thinking: please, Reds, lose tonight. You really gotta:
First off, I have a tremendous respect for your franchise. I’m young enough to not remember my favorite team getting bludgeoned by the Big Red Machine, but old enough to remember what it was like to watch Eric Davis with complete awe … the Reds are a quality organization with a long, storied history. And I respect the heck out of you.
So this isn’t easy to write. I love the uncertainty of the playoffs, the surprises. The best part of the postseason is to find out who the Jeff Weaver or Mark Lemke is going to be. The randomness of it all is what keeps the baseball playoffs so danged interesting. I’m looking forward to watching it all develop.
But me and some of the other folks have been talking, and, well, we need you to lose.
His reasoning is sound. I mean, really, it is. Gotta go read it for it to truly make sense to you though.
Personally: I find the Reds a pretty likable bunch. But I do believe that most everyone is gonna be rooting for Pittsburgh tonight and I get it. I wish it was the Cardinals facing the Pirates now because they’re way easier to root against. But that’s not how it is, so we’re gonna have to just accept this.
But … if everyone is rooting for the Pirates, doesn’t that make the Reds the outcasts? And don’t prickly jerks like me tend to root for the outcasts? The hated? Does this not compel me to root for the Reds?
Darn, this is confusing.
Mark Buehrle last pitched in 2015, for the Toronto Blue Jays. He was still pretty effective and toyed with the idea of pitching last season, but he never signed anywhere and is, for all intents and purposes, retired.
Now at least his number will be retired officially. It will be done by the club for which he had the most success and with which he is, obviously, most associated:
Buehrle pitched for the White Sox for 12 years. He was the model of consistency and durability in Chicago, logging over 200 innings a season in every single season but his rookie year, when he was primarily a reliever. He was a solid defender, a multi-time All-Star, tossed a perfect game in 2009 and helped the Chisox to their first World Series title in 88 years in 2005.
He was also one of baseball’s fastest workers, so I’m going to assume that, in his honor, the number retirement ceremony will last, like, a minute 20, after which everyone can get on with their dang day.
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.