If the White Sox weren’t in danger of blowing their once massive lead in the AL Central, what would Jay Mariotti have to write about at this time of year? Thomas Jones vs. Cedric Benson? Eddy Curry’s refusal to take a DNA test? Jeromy Burnitz’ pathetic showing the National Air Guitar Championships?
It should have been chicken soup for Ozzie Guillen’s tortured soul, this outbreak of runs and fireworks Saturday night that eased some of the raging Soxiety in town. Holy Cow, even Cubs mascot Ronnie “Woo Woo” Wickers was at the ballmall, dancing in the aisles in a lame publicity stunt. Unfortunately, Guillen is hopeless right now, capable of saying or doing anything while locked in a persecution complex.
The Indians keep winning. The Red Sox keep winning. And the Blizzard of Oz still has the tightest sphincter in baseball.
Someone please explain the last week to me. Just when nothing could be worse than a team treating a 15-game lead like a hand grenade, there’s worse: a manager spewing crazy thoughts — including garbage about quitting — as his team treats a 15-game lead like a hand grenade. Look us in the eye, Ozzie. If you’re tired of the occasional booing, the choke references and all the accompanying exhaust of a manic month, you should stop wasting your time and everyone else’s … and do something else for a living.
In a season of bizarre behavior from the Blizzard, no episode has been more damning than his recent series of comments about angst-gripped Soxdom and the general toll the job is taking on him. When a team plays wishy-washy baseball for two months and allows the Indians within 1-1/2 games of the lead, the last thing a manager should do is challenge fans who have issues with strategy, personnel decisions or the amount of resin in the bag. These people have waited decades for any postseason success, much less a World Series title, and they have every right to vent. But Guillen, as if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, foolishly fights back.
There are seven more days of this madness, this Ozfest. Tell you what: You get the man a straitjacket, I’ll buy him a muzzle.