Showing posts with label Tony Campana. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tony Campana. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Welcome Aboard Theo

You have so much to look forward to.


"THEO. WOO. BERNSTEIN. WOO. THEO. WOO."


".........."


"First, you gotta sign Pujols and then move him back to third. HELLO, he was good there. Then sign Prince, and BOOM. And get DeRosa back here. Why the HELL did we let him go?! CLASS ACT and GRITTY as all hell. And what's it gonna take to get CAMPANA in the lineup everyday? HELLO! And get rid of those bums SORIANO and MARMOL. And tell Zambrano to give back some of that ACE money! Kick him to CURB for all I care. Play on playa. GO CUBS GO. GO CUBS GO. Hey Chicago, whadaya say?


".........."


"Hey there."


".........."


"I tell ya, there's nothing like a day at the ballpark. Good, wholesome entertainment. I love just rounding up the family in the ol' Honda Odyssey and taking a trip to the greatest city in the world. Keep the doors locked, boys! Sure, I payed 25 dollars for parking, but it's nothing to me. In fact, I'm going to pay upwards of 300 hundred dollars today! Who cares? You can't put a price on fun. But is there something you can do about the language around here? Now I'm not trying to impede on anyone's good time, but, pardon my French, some of these guys can be real jerk-offs. I have two young boys here with me, ya know what I'm sayin'?


".........."


"Attaboy, Steiney. We're getting better everyday. I can feel it."


".........."


"I will remain visible."


".........."


*Blows gently in the wind.*


".........."


"Well, shit son."


".........."


"I bet you thought I was going to say 'Here's looking at you, kid.' Well, I'm not. And we're clearly not at the end of the movie yet, anyway."


"Yes, my grandfather co-wrote Casablanca. I love deep dish pizza, Oprah, and Jim Belushi. Whoops, it's not called the Sears Tower anymore. I don't put ketchup on my hot dogs. I don't believe in curses. Ron Santo was a wonderful, wonderful man who deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. Let's play two! Cheeseburger Cheeseburger Cheeseburger. I hope I never have to see any of you again." 

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Reaching For The Lance Briggs Jersey



At one point, ten years ago, it was socially acceptable for a grown man to wear a jersey while going about his everyday life. Not so in 2011. Jersey-wearing has been relegated to either the paying fan in attendance, or (usually football) fan taking in the game at a bar. I'm not sure if I'm alone in this assumption, but I tend to judge people based on the jersey they're wearing. These assumptions are wide-ranging and are based on anything from the player's persona to the age and make of the jersey. For example, a LeBron James Heat jersey warrants a 0 on the 1-10 Respect Scale from me, whereas a Detlef Schrempf Sonics pre-1995 logo change jersey warrants a 10.

I have an issue with men who wear the jersey of a player who has long since played for a particular team. To this day, I spot Cade McNown, Kyle Orton, and Muhsin Muhammad jerseys around Chicago-area bars. I'm sorry, you may be the world's biggest Greg Olsen or Nathan Vasher fan, but those Bears jerseys no longer have any business being worn out in public. There's a few exceptions to the former player rule. First, if a player is retired and his best years were spent with the team on the jersey then it's OK to wear. However, if this former player also spent the twilight of his career, struggling to stay on with a few other teams, these jerseys are unacceptable. If Green Bay fans want to forgive and forget and dust off the ol' Brett Favre number 4, then that's fine. Brett Favre Jets and Vikings jerseys should remain in the back of the closet collecting dust.  Jerseys of a franchise's all-time greats are also acceptable in my book. You'll see a smattering of 34s, 51s, and 89s at Soldier Field this year. It's good to pay homage.

When considering which player's jersey to purchase, I have six simple rules:

1) Don't be fooled by the fan favorite that somehow is beloved even though he sucks at playing his sport. Tony Campana and Brian Scalabrine are better examples than any Bears player.
2) Stay away from the big-contract guy your team just snagged away. This is more of an issue in basketball or baseball where contracts are guaranteed and player productions sometimes falls off once they receive their payday. Julius Peppers is a good football counterexample.
3) Beware of the one-year wonder. These are sometimes hard to identify, but a good bet is on a guy who was drafted in the late-first or second round of the NBA draft, a closer, or a Pro Bowl special teams player.
4) Make sure the player in question will be with your team for at least three more years -- there's nothing worse (in the jersey purchasing world) than ponying up 80+ dollars for a jersey of a player who is traded or leaves as a free-agent a year later. It is almost impossible to predict trades, but age, production, contract situation, team needs, and how close or far away a team is from contending are good indicators. If there's even a hint of a player testing the free-agent waters, hold off on his jersey purchase.
5) If a player how gotten into even the slightest bit of off the field trouble, reevaluate the jersey purchase. This is the hardest point to adhere to, mainly because an athlete's character is often misunderstood or overblown to move along a slow news day.
6) Under no circumstances should you buy a LeBron James Heat jersey.

Lance Briggs is the only NFL jersey I have ever owned. I always wanted an NFL jersey to wear on Sundays. As luck would have it, my girlfriend and my anniversary was/is a week before the start of football season. She needed a gift idea and I was more than happy to suggest a Bears jersey. I wrote last year about the general lack of excitement surrounding the Bears before the start of the season. At the time, Briggs seemed to be the only Bear worthy of a jersey purchase.

I proudly wore my Briggs jersey during every game last year. Little did I know, I broke rule number 5 on my list. Lance Briggs hasn't had any pressing off the field issues -- unless you want to count the time he crashed his Lamborghini on Edens Expressway and left the scene under mysterious circumstances. It's kind of amazing this didn't draw more ire than it did.

Briggs does however have a reputation for being a bit of headcase. After being hit with the franchise tag in 2007 to prevent him from becoming a free-agent he demanded a trade, and, among other things said, "I've played my last snap for them. I'll never play another down for Chicago again." The Bears caved and Briggs received a 6-year deal worth up to 36 million before the 2007 season and is currently looking for a new deal.

I understand the lack of guaranteed contracts combined with football's inherent injury risk places players in a difficult situation. They feel they should be compensated relative to what the next guy with similar production is getting. They can be cut or suffer a career ending injury at any time, lose guaranteed millions and most people won't blink an eye. There's a sense of urgency from NFL players to get paid NOW, and there has to be. I understand, but how many contract squabbles are too many?

To tie everything together, since I believe everything comes back around, I wonder: how will people judge a man in a Lance Briggs jersey? Not warmly, I presume. Especially if Briggs' contract talk, or lack thereof, seems to have an impact on the season. Briggs has not played a down of preseason football due to injury. Just as the man wearing the LeBron James 6 navigates his way through life constantly being shot sideways glances, I too am prepared for a potential Lance Briggs backlash. If wearing his jersey means I'll be looked at as a whining, insecure, money grabber who needs to be coddled and reaffirmed of his place in the world, then so be it. The jersey fits, after all.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Would You Name Your Child After This Man?


Tony Campana has looked uncomfortable at the plate all season. He's batted .262 in 33 games, including two doubles, but generally doesn't offer much but a threat to bunt. Campana did enough in Monday's 7-3 win over Colorado, singling in the 3rd, and working his at-bat long enough in the 4th to allow Geovany Soto to score on a wild pitch.

In center field, however, is where Tony shines. Not because he's a particularly good fielder, although his speed does allow him to cover a bit of ground, but because he's not alone. Tony has friends, and plenty of them in center field.

This is nothing new. The bleacher bums love embracing their outfielders, especially the undersized, overachieving ones that have "Career Minor-Leaguer" written all over them. Tony was drafted by the Cubs in the 13th round of the 2008 Draft. He's stolen 144 bases in his minor league career, and carries a cumulative average of .303. Not bad, but he's still 5'8 and doesn't hit for any power, and has been told countless times he'd never make it. Adversity! That's the ticket.

I presume, it's difficult to boo him because of the adversity he's overcome. Even if his on base percentage continues to hover around .300 (from the 2-hole), Tony is well aware of his get-out-of-jail free card. One has to look no further than the different ways Soriano and Campana interact with the fans to witness the sort of privilege Campana enjoys.

Soriano and the left-field bleachers play a little game. "How many outs Sori," the fans yell, and Soriano more often that not obliges. He waves his index to indicate one out, and his index and pinky to indicate two. Sometimes he'll turn around and watch the crowd. His willingness to engage is usually determinate on his performance. It's unclear, to me at least, the purpose of the "How many outs" game. I've sensed the left-field bleachers feel Soriano will likely forget the number of outs, and are just trying to keep his head in the game. Or maybe they're seeking the thrill of a celebrity response. Can I get a retweet?

Beyond the number of outs, Soriano is generally disinterested in what the fans have to say. He carries himself as if he's heard it all before, probably because he's heard it all before. Or he doesn't understand English too well. I don't know. He seems to get the most joy out of tossing the third out into the crowd. He waits for everyone to stand up and get frantic and teases a few people before pointing to the lucky winner. I suspect he enjoys imposing his will on the game within the game. And tossing a ball is easier than hitting a 1-2 slider in the dirt out of the park.

Thirty-three games later and Campana is still reveling in his new found celebrity. Fans in left center and right center (mostly in right) shout things that I cannot make out. Tony seems to hear them just fine. He's the type of celebrity that takes all autograph requests. It doesn't matter if his reservation is in five minutes, there's people that came to see him, and these people need things signed. Tony flashes his boyish smile as if a female fan offered to blow him after the game. She might have, I can't hear what they're saying, remember. And then he does the cutest thing. He waves at a young fan. Not with his free hand, but with his glove. That big bird's nest of a thing. He'll do this a number of times and the 25-year old will look thirteen doing it. He can hit .150 and you still can't boo him. You just can't.

A drunk woman stands up and makes slaughterhouse-appropriate sounds. Tony smiles at her too. Jesus, this kid is a saint. "Tony," a guy yells. "I'm naming my first-born son after you." Tony laughs and is probably blushing. He has the best job in the world and now will be the namesake of someone's child.

Rockies catcher Chris Iannetta hits a high fly to short center field. Campana camps under it and records the final out of the game. Right center begins chanting Tony's name. The Cubs won and a bunch of people would rather cheer for him. Take your time getting healthy, Marlon. Tony could use a few hundred more friends.