Renewal, rebirth, hope springs eternal and all that stuff. Spring training. The same drill every season. Four or five teams come into the spring with a legitimate chance to win the World Series, while the 25 or so others lie to themsevles about ‘if they catch a few breaks anything can happen.’ Uh, no they can’t. I don’t care how many breaks the Pirates, Royals, Blue Jays and the like catch, they have 0.00% chance of playing a game that matters after May 1st.
Things just don’t change. Like Milton Bradley being a disturbed psycho who thinks the world is out to get him. He says that the struggles he had in Chicago with the Cubs last season were not his fault.
From the New York Times ‘Bats’ blog:
“Two years ago, I played, and I was good,” Bradley said. “I go to Chicago, not good. I’ve been good my whole career. So, obviously, it was something with Chicago, not me.”
He added: “Just no communication. I never hit more than 22 homers in my career, and all of a sudden I get to Chicago and they expect me to hit 30. It doesn’t make sense. History tells you I’m not going to hit that many. Just a lot of things that try to make me a player I’m not.”
Right Milt. For the seventh time in your career, it was someone else’s fault. The other seven teams had it all wrong about you. You have never done anything that caused any of these problems, it was ‘the other guy’. Uh huh.
What color is the sky in your world Milton? How many pitchers do you see on the mound when you step into the batter’s box? Are there demons hanging on the outfield wall?
He’s been good his whole career? Never mind tearing off his uniform, never mind his calling a reporter an Uncle Tom, or his fighting with every authority figure he has ever encountered, that might be the craziest thing he has ever done or said. How do you define ‘good’, Milt?
By being average, not realizing your considerable potential, and getting run off of every team you have ever been a part of? .277, 20, and 76 isn’t bad, it might even be above average, but it isn’t “good.”
Enjoy your time with Uncle Milty Seattle, I am sure the eighth time is the charm.