Big Z's Burden

Carlos Zambrano breaks bat over powerful left leg; sends chunks of wood flying.

Zambrano isn't the first or only baseball player to break a bat over his leg, but the act is most commonly associated with him. Pure, unbridled rage is how some choose to view this act, and really, Z's career up to this point. Similar to how Dennis Rodman used to take off his jersey and whip it into the stands after being ejected, Zambrano's bat-breaking takes on the same measure of unpredictability. Rodman could fling his jersey into the stands one hundred times without incident, but that 101st time could very well be the day he chooses to manufacture his jersey into a self-made noose and ring the neck of the nearest fan. Zambrano breaks his bat into two even pieces and does nothing more than bang them together as if to call his dog in for supper. But would anyone be surprised if he tossed them at an unsuspecting spectator, or even threatened to attack Houston pitcher Jordan Lyles with the sharp side?

This is what many of the media types would like for you to believe. That Zambrano is uncontrollable, and an inherent ball of rage. His spats with Michael Barrett and Derrek Lee, his demolition of the Gatorade machine, and his other scattered tirades over the last 11 years serve no greater purpose. They're simply who he is.

Wrong.

Consider Zambrano's most recent bat-breaking incident: May 31st against Houston. Zambrano had given up 5 hits through the first 5 innings, including a solo homer in the 4th to Brett Wallace; the only run on the board at this point. Surely, he senses this might be one of those solid performances wasted because of lack of run support.

Blak DeWitt leads off the bottom of the fifth with a double. Tony Campana sacrifices him to third. Geovany Soto strikes out with one out and a man on third. With the pitcher batting next, the RBI was Soto's responsibility and he failed. But Carlos Zambrano doesn't view it that way. After working the count to 2-2, Zambrano stuck out on the fifth pitch of the at-bat. His anger and subsequent bat-breaking were most likely directed at himself for not getting the run home. Even though that RBI should have been taken care of by Soto. Such is Big Z's burden.

National League pitchers aren't expected to hit. They are expected to pitch well and then be able to lay down a sacrifice bunt when the situation arises. This is why so many of us can become flummoxed when we see Zambrano put so much pressure on himself to succeed at the plate. We don't expect pitchers to hit, and therefore, pitchers shouldn't expect to get a hit either. But Zambarno prides himself on being a complete player because, by nature, he's accustomed to placing the burden on himself.

Not to rail on Sammy Sosa, but Sosa was content with going 1-5 with four strikeouts, a home run, and a fielding error. He recognized his role as an entertainer, and as long as he hit long balls, he was doing his job. Hitting a home run is an individual accomplishment. It helps when people are on base, and pitchers definitely change their approach (i.e. more or less hittable pitches) based on the merits of the rest of the lineup, but a teammate cannot hit a home run for their teammate.

Carlos Zambrano cannot win a game without the help of his teammates. They need to make the routine defensive plays and an occasional spectacular one, and they need to provide a decent amount of runs. Players like Zambrano, who look to assert themselves in every way they can, are uncomfortable with the amount of control afforded to them. I'm not suggesting that Zambrano doesn't trust his teammates, but that he places an unbelievable, even unrealistic burden on himself to succeed. When he doesn't see the rest of his teammates do the same, it frustrates him.

Here are a few quotes from ESPN's "Zambrano Apology" article to illustrate my point. These comments came a day after Zambrano's now infamous rant in which he criticized Marmol's pitch selection and said the Cubs were playing like a Triple-A team.

"I really feel for this team. I think sometimes I care too much. I just want this team to do good. I don't like to be in this position where we keep losing and keep losing, and we don't do nothing about it. I just want to win with this team and do the best I can."

Zambrano speaks like a man who takes the Cubs' failures personally, even though he's been one of the lone brights spots this season. Also notice the apparent disconnect between him and his teammates, "I think sometimes I care too much." As opposed to his teammates, who don't seem to be as bothered by losing as him. I can't help but read "I think sometimes I care too much" and feel like Zambrano is condemning himself. As if being passionate about winning is a bad thing.

"I have a mission here. I've said it since I've been in the big leagues, and that mission is to win with the Cubs. Anything can happen in the big leagues. Anything can happen in the next two months. The previous two months we didn't play well, we didn't pitch good."

Say what you want about Zambrano, but he's been intensely loyal his entire career. It's rare in today's athletics to see an athlete intent on winning with a particular franchise.

"It's not over yet. Believe me guys, it's not over for the Cubs."
              
Even the most optimistic of Cubs fans don't feel this way.

Zambrano hasn't always handled things well. The less-mature Zambrano probably would have strangled either Ramirez, Marmol, Lopez, or all three, after the game. He instead took the more diplomatic route, going to the press, and was blasted for that as well. While Zambrano probably didn't need to call out Marmol by name, his comments were veracious and necessary. Some folks haven't come to Zambrano's defense, I suspect because they mistake his anger for selfishness, rather than an unparalleled will to win. 

Imagine making it your life mission to win with a franchise that is best known for finding every conceivable way to lose. That is the self-imposed burden Zambrano walks around with all day. Live like this for eleven years. How even-keeled would you be?