Exonerating Moises Alou

Let me be clear about this–Moises Alou was one of my least-favorite Cubs. This is mostly due to Alou’s first season in 2002. The Cubs, having won 88 games the previous year, had signed Alou to go along with an in-his-prime Sammy Sosa, who was coming off the single greatest offensive season in Chicago Cubs history, and first baseman Fred McGriff, whose full potential as a Grade-A ass-eater had yet to be realized. Jon Lieber was coming off a 20-win season, and Kerry Wood seemed poised to make all of his starts for the first time in his career (he would). Additionally, right before Spring Training ended, the Cubs had acquired a proven closer in Antonio Alfonseca and a young right-hander in Matt Clement from Florida. Sure the team had some holes, but expectations were pretty high going into the season.

And then, on Opening Day in Cincinnati a fat, out of shape, disinterested Moises Alou, fresh off of signing a 25 million dollar deal, injured himself in batting practice by…standing still.

That’s right, folks, Alou was so totally unprepared to earn his fat paycheck, that he got hurt standing around the outfield during pregame batting practice and had to skip out in his first eleven games as a Cub, giving way to the godawful Roosevelt Brown who, following in the tradition of a long line of lousy Cub left fielders (Kevin Roberson, Ozzie Timmons, Robin Jennings, Brooks Kieschnick, take your pick, the list is long), did nothing to pick up Alou’s slack. The Cubs were in a funk by the time Alou came back, and his 4-30 start did little to help matters.

By the morning of June 10th, the Cubs were 26-38, ahead of only Milwaukee in the NL Central and ten games out of first place. For his part, Alou carried a pathetic .216 batting average into that day’s game against the White Sox. Having built up over 2 months of frustration while watching Alou blatantly steal money as the Cubs quickly eliminated themselves from contention, yours truly proceeded to sit in the front row of the left-field bleachers and deliver a heckling the likes of which I had never delivered to any Cub before, or have delivered since. For the first five innings of the game, by which point I had pretty much said everything I needed to say, I delivered one insult after another, too loud for Alou–standing perhaps 50 feet from me– to ignore or pretend he couldn’t hear it. I was so brutal on Alou that it wouldn’t surprise me if his ears are still ringing today.

Having gotten things off my chest, my white-hot hatred for Alou and his dispassionate play abated a bit. He bounced back to have a fine season in 2003 in helping lead the Cubs to the playoffs and had an even stronger season–statistically speaking–in 2004, although whatever positive contribution Alou provided with his offense that season was negated by his leading the way for Dusty’s Band of Unfocused Malcontents, who bitched and moaned with such a degree of self-absorbtion and self-righteousness that they managed to steer themselves right out of the playoffs.

So really, Moises Alou ended his Cub career the way he started it–pretty much near the top of my shit list.

I bring this up because I feel I need to defend Alou in light of the apology he delivered to the poor, thoughtless sap who interfered with Alou’s attempt to catch a foul ball in the 2003 NLCS, and I wanted to be clear I have no agenda in defending Alou except in my pursuit of the TRUTH.

The thinking goes–by such noteworthy weenies like the scream queen in the Sun-Times –that had Alou simply accepted the fact that some idiot who supposedly was rooting for the Cubs was thinking of anything other than the 23rd out of the most important games in 58 years for the Cubs, that the fans would not have turned on him, the Cubs may have regained their composure, and the pennant would have been theirs.

Wow. That’s quite a lot to put on one player, one who simply reacted to his frustration that supposed fans of the home team would fuck with their team’s success, inadvertent or not.

Of course, idiots like Mariotti never bother to wonder why Alou reacted the way he did. They simply assume he was just being a petulant crybaby and make the outrageous leap to blame him for all the bad shit that subsequently went down. This, of course, is probably compensation for their own guilt at having contributed to Bartman’s life being ruined. Not that Bartman was not at fault for his thoughtless impulsive act, but it bears pointing out that Mariotti’s own newspaper was the one who first published Bartman’s name in their web edition the afternoon after the incident. Not only that, but Mariotti never seems to hesitate to invoke Bartman’s name at the drop of a hat whenever he’s churning out another one of his patented, paint-by-numbers “The Cubs are Cursed” auto-articles that substitute for intelligent analysis, so Jay can shove his moral righteousness right up his wide ass. Shit, if Jay really feels that the fallout on Bartman was Alou’s fault, then that pudgy little bastard ought to be thanking Alou for providing him with endless material.

The point is, though, that writers like Moronotti and his dumbass carbon copy up the street Rick Morrisey don’t know the whole story; in fact, these boobs are unaware that there is a whole story.

The reason why Alou reacted the way he did?

Because the exact same thing had happened 5 months earlier.

The source material for the link above is this USA Today recap. Check out the third paragraph:

The Rockies got some help from a fan at Wrigley Field in their three-run eighth. Pinch hitter Mark Sweeney led off with a foul ball to the left field corner. Moises Alou tried to make a sliding catch, but a fan reached over the wall and deflected the ball. Alou pointed to the fan, but interference was not called.

So imagine you’re Moises Alou. In a game in early May some yuppie near Section 4 thoughtlessly reaches for a foul ball that you may have had a chance at catching. The batter eventually reaches base, scores the tying run and your team loses the game. In Game 2 of the NLCS, you witness another Cubs fan, this one sitting in some sweet seats near home plate supposedly at the behest of a local alderman, getting in the way of your teammate Paul Bako’s attempt at making a pop foul putout (this was rendered irrelevant by the fact that the Cubs won in a laugher but it bears mentioning here). Finally, with 5 outs to go to the pennant, your team is up by 3 and you find yourself tracking the ball off of Luis Castillo’s bat. It is then that another home fan gets in the way of your attempt at catching the ball. If you were Moises Alou, wouldn’t you–by this point–be totally exasperated at the fact that your own team’s fans seem more interested in getting a souvenir than seeing you guys win a freaking pennant? Considering that it continued to happen, I sure as hell would. Of course Alou reacted the way he did. He was fucking sick of it!

The problem is not how Moises Alou reacted to this seemingly unchecked compulsion of fans reaching for foul balls. The problem is that fans at Wrigley Field don’t feel that it is wrong to do so in the frst place. By excusing Bartman (and blaming Alou), people are sending the message that it’s okay to reach for a souveneir instead of letting the players you pay money to watch play make plays. What’s even more alarming is that fans continue to behave like this,. You would think that these fans would see what happened to Mr. Bartman as a cautionary tale, but no–not at “Beautiful Wrigley Field” where a good time and going home with a souvenir apparently takes precedence over the fortunes of the home team.

I hate Moises Alou, but he has nothing to apologize for in this instance.

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