Daily Archives: January 29, 2004

Frank McCourt has finally bought the Los Angeles Dodgers. The owners approved McCourt’s bid for $430 million today. It is too late for the Dodgers to capitalize on the off-season free agent market. But hopefully, this once-great organization will now have some much-needed direction and stability. David Pinto expects changes.

Like many of us baseball fans, George Vecsey probably doesn’t have much to do these days but dream warm thoughts. Some Yankee fans have been dreaming about pairing Alex Rodriguez with Derek Jeter on the left side of the Yankees’ infield since November (while others are mortally offended by the notion that Jeter would be the one asked to move to third). It is a nice, unrealistic, dream. Today, we can add Vecsey to the list of dreamers who think the Yankees should try and land Rodriguez.

This is a very slow news day in New York, folks. The pressing news is that the Bombers have respectfully declined Gary Sheffield’s offer to play third base (so much for Aaron Gleeman’s “Infield of Doom”), while former-Yankee utility man Todd Zeile has some less than complimentary things to say about his former employers. According to The Daily News:

“I have no desire to play again for that organization,” said Zeile, who appeared in 66 games for the Yanks last season before finishing the year in Montreal. “I don’t know that they’d have a desire to bring me back, so I don’t want to be presumptuous in that regard. (But) I thought I was going to get more playing time – as it turned out, I didn’t. I think some of the things that happen over there are different than in any other organization in baseball.”

… “Every day is potentially the end-all,” he said. “It’s whatever they need that day. It can sometimes be unsettling for people in role positions there. I don’t really have a desire to get back into that mix.”

I can’t muster up the energy to comment. Thanks for the memories Todd. Fortunately, things are a bit more lively down in Tampa and gasp, Detroit. Pudge, say it ain’t so, bro. Talk about playing yourself. Yeesh.

The first time I ever came close to entertaining the notion of rocking a Boston Red Sox jersey was when Mo Vaughn wore number 42 for them in the mid ’90s. Entertaining was as far as it would get, though I have to admit after visiting Fenway Park in the summer of 1999, and browsing through the gear shops across the way from the stadium, the Sox have some great stuff to wear. But let’s be real: Me Hatfield, them McCoy. It’s never going to happen.

But if it were, I’d still probably choose to rock Mo’s number 42. I thought he was a great player up there, and a terrific part of the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry. He was also the first black player to be truly embraced in Boston without apologies (and I’m not counting Tiant because he was Latin). No small feat, indeed. By the time he arrived in New York to play with the Mets, Vaughn’s career had been unfortunately reduced to a series of fat jokes. I could never get with that, and was sorry to see such a promising career hit the skids so quickly after he left Boston.

I’m sure I linked Ben Jacobs’ appreciation of Vaughn a few weeks ago, but if I didn’t, here it is again. Gordon Edes also had a nice piece on Vaughn in his Notes column in The Globe last weekend. Despite his ugly departure from New England, and his rapid decline, Vaughn remains a fan favorite in Red Sox Nation. And that’s the way it should be.