And So It Ends
There are three points Rick Morrissey makes in his Sunday Chicago Tribune column on the Sammy Sosa trade (“Pop the cork: New home for Incredible Sulk,” 1/30/2005) that I agree with.
First: “If you want to know the deeper reason why Sammy Sosa no longer will be with us, it’s because he loved himself to death.”
Sosa’s displays of selfishness, much more than his decline in performance, turned him into someone that was no longer fun to cheer for.
Second: “The success of the trade does not depend on how Sosa plays for the Orioles this season. . . . Moving Sosa is the right thing now and forever. He walked out on his teammates. End of story.”
I would only qualify that statement in this way: He walked out on his teammates, and never showed contrition. End of story. Here’s what I wrote back in October:
I want Sosa disciplined. And I have no idea what I want with regard to Sosa being in a Cubs uniform next year. I used to think I’d always want him back, overpaid or not (the Trib Co. can afford it). This latest episode, though, where he walked out on his team and then lied about it is quite despicable. Show some contrition, Sammy. I’ll cheer for you again. If not, thanks, and goodbye.
Third: “[T]hat it came to this is one of the strangest and saddest stories in Chicago sports history.”
Sosa—the guy who had all the fun next to the dreary Mark McGwire during The Great Home Run Race of ‘98—was the king of post-23 Chicago. And it’s come to this. Booed in his last season (and not because of performance issues), and then gifted to Baltimore with nary a cry from the Wrigley faithful.
Chicago has had a long string of mega-stars. Walter Payton. Michael Jordan. Sammy Sosa. It’s without one for the first time since 1975.