Time To Hang It Up, Sammy
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
Someone ought to let the Texas Rangers know that it’s 2007.
Yesterday, the team announced that it has signed Sammy Sosa to a minor league contract, bringing him back to the team with which he began his major league career 18 years ago. It would be nearly enough to warm one’s heart, if it wasn’t a ridiculous publicity stunt.
Last year, Sosa didn’t play a game. “I was beaten mentally,” he claimed at a press conference yesterday in explaining why he took a year off. This was slang for, “Nobody would sign me.” The reason no one would sign him is that he is done as a major league ballplayer. For Baltimore in 2005, at age 36, he hit .221 with a .295 on-base average and a .376 slugging average. That’s horrible for a right fielder/designated hitter, and Sosa will probably put up worse numbers now that he’s two years older.
At this point in his career, Sosa is the zero-tool player. He can’t hit for average, can’t hit for power, can’t run, can’t throw, and can’t catch the ball. He doesn’t have the patience to draw a walk, and he’s old. He brings nothing as a player, to a major league team — and whatever he brings on the field is going to be the extent of his contributions. A one-time folk hero in Chicago, he was thrown out of town after the 2004 season. Between his declining skills, batcorking, self-centered behavior, and annoying self-promotion, he had become more hassle than he was worth. It’s one thing to have a self-obsessed, vainglorious blowhard on your team, quite another for him to be an awful player who can’t even stay in the lineup.
There are a hundred or more minor league veterans with no chance of making a major league team who would be good bets to out-hit Sosa this year. To put his hitting in context, Jose Reyes hit about as well as Sosa did in 2005 and was thought of in some quarters as among the worst players in the game for so doing — and he was a shortstop who led the league in stolen bases. Longtime minor league soldier Andy Phillips hit as well as Sosa did in 2005 last year with the Yankees and was considered to have failed so badly that he’ll probably never have a clear shot at even a bench role again.
This is what makes Sosa’s return annoying. Having hit 588 home runs in his career, he clearly wants a shot at reaching 600. (Judging by the 14 home runs he hit in 2005, it might take him a while — yesterday he threatened to play for four or five more years.) If someone is willing to give him a chance to do so, you can’t blame him for taking it. The Rangers, though, really ought to know better.
There’s certainly a place in baseball for the veteran who’s chasing history or simply doesn’t want to let go, provided he’s contributing to the team in some way or playing for a team with no pennant hopes. Forty-seven-year-old Julio Franco didn’t hit much for the Mets last year, for instance (though he hit better than Sosa will this year), but no one would begrudge him the roster spot. His experience was a tangible benefit to the team, and he was the 25th man anyway. Similarly, there would be nothing really wrong with a hopeless team like the Devil Rays picking up Sosa in attempt to draw some ticket buyers. They’d probably be better off giving the shot to a younger player with a future, but Sosa wouldn’t mean much other than the difference between 92 and 94 losses for them.
Texas, though, is a legitimate contender in a wide-open division. As they can’t possibly think that Sosa is a better candidate for the designated hitter spot than younger hitters like Jason Botts and Victor Diaz, who have a bit of potential, it’s clear that they’re willing to put a less-than-ideal team on the field just to give Sosa — a player best known for cringeinducing antics like hopping around when he thinks he’s hit a home run — a shot at a meaningless number. This hurts the integrity of the pennant race, and it’s done in service of a player with little claim on the sentiment of any baseball fan. If I was Victor Diaz, I would be very angry right now; if I held season tickets with the Rangers, I’d be very, very angry right now. Even if Sosa doesn’t make the team, those tryout at-bats he’ll be getting this spring will be coming at the expense of better players who clearly deserve a shot at the big leagues more. It’s all a little sad, and more than a little ridiculous.
