George, like the rest of us heard about Frank Thomas' retirement on Friday. I'm hoping he did not spend the next 3 days working on this stinker of an article. (Me in regular/George in italics)
Big Hurt Truly Did It His Way
At 6-foot-5, 257 pounds, Frank Thomas is a giant literally and figuratively.
Going by that sentence you just mean literally unless you're going to point out that he is the greatest White Sox hitter in the next sentence.
The man Ken Harrelson dubbed "The Big Hurt" also is a walking contradiction.
Guess not. Also, keep that "walking contradiction" thing in mind. That should be the theme of the article.
A former tight end at Auburn, he once reportedly cried softly at his locker after being dressed down by then-shortstop Ozzie Guillen early in his career.
If Ozzie Guillen dressed me down, I'd spend the night in shower eating chocolate ice cream and sobbing like child. So Frank beats me on that one.
A man allegedly obsessed with his personal statistics, he talked longingly of playing his entire career with the Chicago White Sox and bringing a World Series championship to the South Siders.
Still looking for a contradiction...or that figurative giant thing you pointed out...
Thomas officially retired Friday, though he hasn’t played in the majors since 2008. With The Big Hurt, however, nothing’s simple.
He retired. How complicated is that? The man held on last year hoping to get picked up by a team. It didn't happen. Lots of players do this in their final years. They just aren't huge stars like Thomas.
He spent the first nine seasons of his career hitting like Ted Williams and the final 10 hewing closer to Dave Kingman.
Is that supposed to be the contradiction thing? I don't understand...
When the White Sox finally won the World Series in 2005, an injured Thomas played in just 34 games. He still managed to hit 12 home runs.
Yes, that was a sweet month for him, and White Sox fans I presume. However...not a contradiction.
After the season, he was released by the franchise that drafted him with the seventh overall pick of the 1989 amateur draft. He played 60 games in the majors a year later and won back-to-back American League MVP awards in 1993 and 1994.
Wait. He played in 60 games a year after he was released or a year after being drafted? Nice Timecop trick there, starting the paragraph in 2005, jumping back to 1989, then ending in 1994. Van Damme would be proud.
Much of his early career in the Windy City was overshadowed by Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls. By the time Jordan left the city for good following the 1997-98 NBA season, the Cubs’ Sammy Sosa became the new favorite son.
Yeah, not a contradiction. It also argues against the whole "figurative giant" statement from earlier.
Perhaps that’s why Thomas never seemed to get the recognition his numbers said he deserved. In 1993, when the White Sox won their final American League West Division title, he hit .317 with 41 homers and 128 RBIs. A year later, in a strike-shortened year, he hit .353 with 38 homers and 101 RBIs.
Um, two league MVP's aren't recognition? Also a lot of people I heard talking about it on the airwaves think he's a first-ballot hall-of-famer. That would seem to be recognition.
But his most impressive contribution came off the field.
During an era plagued by performance-enhancing drugs, Thomas was never questioned. In fact, he was the only active player to volunteer to speak with George Mitchell, the former senator investigating the depth of steroid use in the sport.
Good for him. However...not his MOST IMPRESSIVE contribution. That was most definitely ON THE FIELD. If he cures Alzheimer's, then we'll talk.
Thomas reportedly wasn’t always the best teammate. He certainly wasn’t always great with the media. And he once embarrassingly admitted he wasn’t familiar with Jackie Robinson’s career.
That's actually pretty sad. But not a contradiction.
But he was -- with apologies to Nellie Fox, Luis Aparicio and Harold Baines -- the greatest player ever to don a White Sox jersey.
Not...a...contra...diction.
Thomas showed hard work and determination can outdistance pharmacology.
And, despite his faults, he was a hero in a game in dire need of them.
One of baseball’s all-time greats rode into the sunset Friday, and we’re all a little poorer for it.
Terrific George. You completely ignored the main point of your own article. And, if I may quote from you, "We're all a little poorer for it."
Case Closed.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment