Sosa ruined his career — and his legacy
Baseball |
The beginning of the end was Dusty Baker’s arrival as Cubs manager before the 2003 season. Baker was hired, in part, because he knew how to deal with temperamental superstars — if he could handle Barry Bonds, Mr. Temperamental himself, then surely he could handle Sosa.
But Baker and Sosa clashed repeatedly, and the Cubs’ magical 2003 season — well, magical until fan Steve Bartman decided to play outfielder — made things worse, because the spotlight wasn’t just on Slammin’ Sammy anymore, except for when was caught with a corked bat and suspended for seven games.
The corked bat was a precursor to the question of whether Sosa’s home-run ability — he’s the only one to hit more than 60 in three seasons — was a mirage as well. His dubious excuses didn’t help. The corked bat was for batting practice and home run contests?
Then there were the steroid questions. Sports Illustrated’s Rick Reilly seemed like a big creep when, in July 2002, he cornered Sosa in the Cubs’ clubhouse and asked him to take a urine test to prove he wasn’t on steroids. Sosa, dogged from time to time about questions over how a one-time speedster had morphed into a home-run hitting machine, had previously told reporters he would be first in line if baseball ever implemented steroid testing.
The U.S. House Committee on Government Reform brought Sosa in for its March 2005 steroid hearings, though it didn’t ask him to pee in a cup. Still, the smiling Sammy who spoke excellent English in every commercial he made, for some odd reason found himself in need of an interpreter to read his opening statement. Not that Sosa acquitted himself well when he spoke.
Sample testimony: “All I can tell you is I don’t have much to tell you.” Sosa’s non-testimony made it seem Reilly was on to something when he confronted Sosa, though it was still a little creepy.
The Orioles acquired Sosa from the Cubs for the 2005 season and hoped he could give their anemic franchise the juice (sorry, bad choice of words) he once gave the Cubs. Instead, he was one of many soul-sucking elements on a team that collapsed after an early run at first place.
|
As the 2005 season wound down, Orioles bullpen catcher Elrod Hendricks told the Washington Post that the reason Baltimore superstar Miguel Tejada appeared so “distraught” was because of a months-long rift between him and fellow Dominican Sosa, who couldn’t take the fact the Orioles were Tejada’s team, not his. (Tejada, who gave his OK to Orioles executives when they consulted him about acquiring Sosa, denied any rift.)
It’s a shame, really, that Sosa has let his pride get in the way so often. He’s only 12 home runs away from 600. Perhaps signing with Washington, the only team to offer him a contract for next season, would give him a chance to erase some of the lousy memories of the past few years.
It’s hard to believe fans dislike Sosa; disappointed in him, yes, but always ready to fall back in love. And, hey, Frank Thomas, Sosa’s one-time crosstown foil with the White Sox and no slouch in the ego department himself, signed a similar, incentive-laden deal with Oakland. Why not Sosa?
Watching the ultimate fan favorite go out without a final round of applause is the perhaps the saddest part of Sosa’s departure. Even if it was one more lousy season, Sosa isn’t giving himself — or baseball fans — a chance to remember why people got excited over him in the first place. Instead, our last memory is Sosa fading into the ether, alone.
- Discuss Story On Newsvine
- Rate Story:
LowHigh - Instant Message
MORE FROM BASEBALL |
 Baseball Section Front |
| Add Baseball headlines to your news reader: |
Sponsored links