I can't go on writing "The Reds should sign (insert free agent's name here)” blogs much longer. Pitchers and catchers report soon enough, and who the Reds sign, if anyone, isn't likely to be a very big-time move.
This year’s free agent market has been extremely slow in developing, and there are still big-name guys waiting to find out where they fit in. The opportunity is ripe for a team like the Reds, with a little cash to spend, to find a rare deal. But the Reds are a weird team right now, and it’s been difficult to figure out what would be a good move, even if it comes for less than market value.
Thinking it over, Manny probably wouldn't be too stoked on coming to Cincinnati once he realized that the number of decent sushi places can be counted on the fingers of one hand. His casual, laid back demeanor may or may not encourage the core of the Reds team to approach the game with the true sense of urgency that is necessary to win consistently at the Major League level. Maybe Manny and the Dodgers smooth things out, and their Hollywood relationship splashes across the front page of newspapers out there for the next few years.
So, a coach recruits a really good point guard out of high school and assumes that starting a freshman in the Big East will have its rough moments but that the experience will go a long way toward the kid’s — and the program’s — development. Then the kid gets hurt in preseason practice and the whole season is ruined.
Is this the position that Mick Cronin has allowed the UC basketball team to be in? Is this team seriously going to go into next season with a recently injured freshman point guard with no backup? Did anyone ever think they would wake up one day and say, “Dang, I sure wish Jamual Warren was still a Bearcat.”
Now that the Rays have signed Pat Burrell maybe my pipe dream of Rocco Baldelli launching home runs off the Batter's Eye Pavilion in center field becomes a bit less improbable.
Politicians love to lend their support to organizations that make people happy. Our country's leaders and those in our own community often take time out of their busy leader schedules to cut ribbons, shake hands, rename streets in honor of individuals and generally grub on the pride we have for those among us who succeed.
Let us recall Mayor Mallory's Opening Day wild pitch or his steadfast support of the Bengals during a meaningless late season game against the Steelers. It is good for a sports team to be recognized by the community, especially a college program that needs an increase in attendance and some private donor help in order to reach the level that will allow it to succeed regularly. But it’s kind of awkward when the politicians come out and try to be a part of the celebration. Remember when City Council invited UC Coach Brian Kelly down to council chambers for some official recognition, only to make him wait around for 45 minutes and almost miss practice?
How much sense would it make? How stupid does it sound, my loyal readers?
To give in to Manny Ramirez's not-so-secret desire to get a four-year deal and bring the best hair in baseball (along with a lethal bat) to town would buck conventional thinking and the status quo of a team focused on cultivating talent and watching it develop. It would also be a lot of fun and would turn GABP into a way more lively environment than it has been of late.
It's Hot Stove time, and the Reds have already exchanged Ryan Freel for Ramon Hernandez, a move I like. Other than that, the Reds seem content to let things play themselves out.
Cincinnati never made overtures to the Manny/Sabathia/Texiera-level free agents, which is a good thing. Ownership seems to think the Reds are a few moves (and more game experience) away from being a contender in the aging NL Central. Something tells me that most of the teams angling for the big-money free agents are going to be disappointed. Maybe not Barry Zito-level disappointment, but not happy either.
Andy Kennedy, were you hanging out at the Lodge Bar until 1 a.m. last night? Was your pervy looking “Director of Operations at Mississippi,” 31-year-old William Armstrong, trying to hunch on some rich girls into the wee hours of the night only to get his crackerish ass thrown out of the bar? Did y’all act like dicks to a cab driver?