Moises Alou makes yet another routine catch down the left-field foul line.When the Cubs signed Moises Alou as a free agent in December of 2001, I have to admit that I was excited. Alou was an All Star slugger in Houston, where he had strung together several 100-RBI, .300 BA seasons in a row.

The Cubs needed a left fielder after the departure of their previous good-stick, oft-injured outfielder Rondell White. They got Alou. Never mind the fact that the contract was for three years, $27M. Who cares if Alou was 35 years old at the start of the contract? I just went ahead and put my fingers in my ears and whistled the Bonanza theme when people tried to point out the fact that Alou had a history of shattering, twisting, spraining, dislocating, tearing, and otherwise maiming various different body parts.

Stupid, stupid me.

The three years of Alou’s Cub career can be summed up thusly: complete dog shit; mediocre production for $9.5M, which ended with an extended slump when the team desperately needed a hot bat; and “congratulations, you earned one of your three years of salary.”

Putting aside what Alou did or didn’t do with the bat, he was a weird dude. For one thing, Alou admitted that he pissed on his hands in the shower to prevent blisters. He didn’t explain why he asked every else on the team to piss on him, but that’s neither here nor there. I can only assume that the reason Alou didn’t wear batting gloves was to air those puppies out.

Alou also had a ridiculous, knock-kneed batting stance. The stance was particularly stupid for a guy who had a history of problems with his legs. It was about as stupid as diving after balls that an injury-riddled guy has absolutely no chance of catching. Which Alou also did.

Not that Alou really needed his legs. He was one of the worst baserunners the Cubs have seen in ages. Every time Alou was on second and a ball was hit into the air, everyone in the ballpark knew that Alou was going to be doubled off the base. Everyone, that is, except Moisty. At one point during Alou’s career, opposing pitchers were more likely to get him out by walking him, balking him to second, and inducing a lazy fly ball to right field.

What’s more, Alou was a total butcher in the field. Or perhaps he’d more accurately be described as a trench digger. Alou must have had something against the grass ten feet in front of him in left field. I don’t know why I always thought it would be possible for Alou to throw a guy out at the plate. Every single time the ball was hit to him with a guy rounding third, Alou would excitedly wind up, crow hop, and fire the ball directly into the ground in front of him.

Let’s not forget Alou’s steadfast conviction that, apparently, every umpire in baseball had a vendetta against him. That’s right, Moises. Those umps should call a ball when you let hittable strike threes go whizzing (pun intended) past you. Or maybe they should change the rules of the game of baseball so that when your dumb ass is doubled off on a routine fly out, the Cubs are actually rewarded with four runs.

I also believe that Alou had to have set a Cub record for most check-swing groundouts. Alou must have had a ball magnet in his bat. Any time he stuck the bat into the strike zone, the ball hit it, usually resulting in a groundout to the pitcher. The guy must have been wound as tight as a drum, since he could not keep his bat on his shoulder. The most maddening part was that the half-swing outs often came on 2-0 and 3-1 counts. How did Alou consistently get cheated on his swings when he should have been sitting on a belt-high inside fastball?

Oh, and in case your mind has finally allowed you to forget the most memorable moment in Alou’s three-year Cubs career, here is the Family Guy rendition of the incident.

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The Cubs chose not to resign Alou at the end of the 2004 season, electing to go with a Todd Hollandsworth-Jason Dubois platoon. Yes, it had gotten that bad by 2005.

The final blow for Alou which clinched his appearance on The Bottom 126 is the fact that he is the cousin of Mel Rojas. It must be something in the blood. Or the urine.

Low Point: Had the Bartman incident and the eventual Game 6 loss actually been Alou’s fault rather than the fault of all the other idiots who conspired to ruin my October of 2003, it might have been his low point. Instead, I’ll go with April 1, 2002. What’s that you say? Alou didn’t even play that day? Yes, exactly. Alou was pretty much the extent of the Cubs’ offseason spending spree, so Cubs fans were naturally a little excited to see Alou in the Opening Day lineup at Cinergy Field. He wasn’t. Because he injured his calf before the game. By just standing there. A fine start to a wonderful Cubs career.

Did You Know? Alou names the nearly 100 race horses he owns in the Dominican Republic after present and former teammates. At least until they break their legs. Then, their name immediately reverts to “Moises,” as they are dragged out and shot in the street.