Scraps on the Eve of the Feast

I made token reference in my last post to Milton Bradley, the snarling, headstrong outfielder whose antics and presumable unwillingness to say darn instead of damn got him kicked off the Indians this week. There’s speculation running around that the Mets have a chance of landing him and are at least interested in doing so (way down at the bottom of this article by Kevin Czerwinski). I remember the first time I came across his memorable name, as it flashed up as the next batter on ESPN.com’s Gamecast. If you haven’t used it, Gamecast is an admirable substitute for a televised game when you’re nowhere near a television -- even if you can’t see anything, that lack is mitigated by your inability to hear Joe Morgan expounding on the dearth of good second basemen these days. Anyhow, I saw Milton Bradley printed on my screen as the new batter, and laughed at his name, wondering if he was a real player or the product of an intern’s boredom.

Then, in the box where the play by play was recorded by Ernest Hemingway’s grandson (R. Cedeno caught stealing second, J. Gonzalez leaves game with injury, After a while J. Posada left the hospital and walked back to the hotel in the rain), the outcome of his at bat was grudgingly emphasized with italics.

M. Bradley ejected.

The sparse medium told me nothing of the circumstances, but judging by his history (with which I am now better acquainted) I think it’s safe to assume he charged the mound or spit on someone. That’s his style.

Why would I want a player like that on the Mets? Two reasons, one more compelling than the other. The first is that he’s an excellent player, with an OPS over .900 in an admittedly injury-shortened season last year. He takes a walk, he steals bases, he hits for power and average, and is good defensively. The second reason is that he’s an interesting character.

This article by Alan Schwarz (thanks to the U.S.S. Mariner writers for helping me find it again) is a must-read, whether we acquire Bradley or not. I’ll give you a hint of where he’s coming from:

Milton Bradley wasn't there when his mother looked down the barrel of a .38 and told her would-be assassin to stick it. But he might as well have been, because as far as he's concerned, the world has been pointing a gun at him every second of every day. The coaches who tested him, the gangs who beat him, the umpires who screwed him, the fans who cursed him, the agent who robbed him, the father who shamed him ... in his mind, Milton Bradley has been under fire ever since he put on a baseball uniform.

...

Bradley has risen from a youth in Long Beach, Calif., that helps explain, well, what his problem is. For all the board-game jokes about his name, the way he got it isn't one. Charlina Rector dated a man named Milton Bradley in the late 1970s but says she broke off their engagement because she claims he was hooked on cocaine. When she gave birth to their son in April 1978, she was still unconscious when Bradley filled out the birth certificate without her permission. He wanted a Junior, and made damn sure he got one.

I’m not saying Bradley isn’t a jerk, because it sure looks like he is. I’m not saying he’s got reasons that make being a jerk OK, either; just that his history is intriguing, and as Alan writes, helps explain why he does what he does. He’s deeper than his baseball skills, and he’d make writing a blog about a potential 90-loss team a lot more fun.

According to Paul Hoynes of the Cleveland Plain Dealer (Owner: What shall we call this paper? Editor-in-chief: The Cleveland Chronicle? Owner: Plain Dealer it is!), the Indians aren’t looking to trade Bradley for someone who would play for the team right now. We’ve been stockpiling fireballing nowhere men for months, now. It’s time to turn them into something useful.

In other news, Roger Cedeno is now a St. Louis Cardinal, and the Mets have yet another backup catcher. I’m glad our former resident speed demon is getting out of town, because he didn’t have a place here anymore. Kaz Matsui has filled his role of subpar leadoff hitter admirably so far, and the stories about Cedeno being a good guy and not allowing his family to see him play because of the jeers of the fans made me almost too compassionate to mock him. Here’s hoping he does well over there, and doesn’t get caught speeding on the way out of town -- although I don’t think anyone would blame him if he did.