The Grady Syndrome

The Indians’ fire sale of the past several weeks – which saw Mark De Rosa, Cliff Lee, Ben Francisco, Ryan Garko, Rafael Betancourt, Victor Martinez and Carl Pavano leave town – radically altered the roster and left fans with another who’s-not-who list of names to cheer for.

It also highlighted a peculiar perspective that many fans and members of the media seem to share: “Next thing you know, they’ll be trading Grady Sizemore.”

These are the same people who call Sizemore a perennial MVP candidate. And they’re the folks who are blinded by what I’ll call The Grady Syndrome.

Somehow, people with this affliction have lost touch with reality. They have convinced themselves that Grady is a superstar. Grady is one of the best hitters in the game. Grady is the best centerfielder in the game. Grady is the kind of guy you build a team around.

Sizemore is an exciting player. If you plopped him into the middle of the Yankees or Red Sox or Angels or Phillies lineups, there’s little doubt his stock would rise and he’d be an integral part of their teams.

But that’s not what’s happening in Cleveland. Not by any stretch.

Let’s be honest. In five-plus seasons, he has a lifetime batting average of .275. His career best is .290. That’s decent, but not superstar caliber. He’s won three Gold Gloves, and been to three All-Star games. Like I said, exciting. A solid pro. No doubt a great guy and a solid teammate.

But he’s not headed to Cooperstown, at least, not yet. Look, in his first five seasons, Rocky Colavito hit more than 40 home runs twice, drove in more than 100 runs twice, and even batted over .300 one season. He was on the cover of Time magazine (left) in August 1959. He went on to dazzle the baseball world with 45 homers and 140 RBIs for Detroit in 1961. He had superstar written all over him. But it never fully materialized, and there’s no place in the Hall of Fame for “The Rock.”

Sizemore has accomplished a lot, but nothing remotely close to what Colavito did in his first few years. That’s why it wouldn’t be a crime to trade Sizemore, any more than it was to trade Lee or Martinez. When you’re rebuilding, guys like Grady are exactly the kind of guys you deal. Good market value. Young. Enormous upside with a contender.

The Indians’ dilemma is that Mark Shapiro’s master plan for building a contender crashed and burned in the aftermath of the 2007 loss to the Red Sox in the ALCS. 2008 was a struggle, and 2009 has been a disaster. Left with a choice of trying to make do with what was left in the rubble or having to rebuild yet again, Shapiro chose to rebuild. It’s the better move, and his only real option.

And if the right offer came for the Tribe’s centerfielder, let’s hope Shapiro isn’t afflicted with The Grady Syndrome. Sizemore may yet be the centerpiece of the Indians’ next rebuilding effort; time will tell. But he’s far from untouchable.

THIS Is My Tribe?

Well, the dismantling of the Indians – at least, as we’ve known them the past few years – is complete. Victor Martinez was shipped to Boston today, on the heels of Cliff Lee and Ben Francisco going to Philadelphia, Ryan Garko going to San Francisco, and Rafael Betancourt journeying to Colorado. Wasn’t Mark DeRosa on the team at one point, too?

So, who’s left?

Let’s see, there’s a pitcher named Mike Gosling. Another named Tony Sipp. And don’t forget Jose Veras. Or Chris Perez.

At times, they’ll all have the chance to throw to Wyatt Toregas behind the point. Chris Gimenez, too, although he’s listed as an infielder.

Who? I mean, who?

There are three outfielders on the roster. One of them is Trevor Crowe. Talk about going from uncertainty to security; Crowe has to feel lucky to be in Cleveland during this fire sale.

Wow, what a season it’s been.

Fans are crying for Mark Shapiro’s head, but you really can’t blame the Indians’ general manager. This season is lost. And the pitching has been horrendous. Losing Lee is tough, but otherwise he surrendered some bats, and they can’t throw strikes. So stocking up on pitchers (nine of the 11 players obtained) revealed his strategy – fix the rotation, and fix the bullpen. Trust the guys who are here (Hafner, Cabrera, Sizemore, Choo, Peralta) to hit. Trust that one or two position players in the minors (LaPorta, Santana) develop into big league hitters. And hope that lightning strikes twice in the Shapiro era, and that this current crop of youngsters gets it done.

I’m not upset by it all, I’m really not. Admit it: The Indians weren’t going anywhere – this year, or next, or ever – not without better pitching. Now, we’ll sit back and watch to see if they can recharge their batteries and develop into a contender in a season or two.

Finally, how great was it to see the emotion Martinez showed after the trade? He could barely speak to reporters in the locker room. It was clear that when he said recently that he wanted to play his entire career in one uniform, he meant it. Martinez’s loyalty to the Indians, and his sadness over leaving the team regardless of their won-lost record, speaks volumes about him. Would that there were more players with his attitude in professional sports today.

The Triple Crown Remains as Elusive as Ever

Big Brown was a big bust at the Belmont. The disappointment hung like a cloud over the track and, one sensed, over just about anyone viewing on television. From the start, he was in an awkward position, as Da' Tara jumped in front and moved to the rail. At one point it appeared that Big Brown made contact with the leader and had to pull back a bit. A move to the outside around the first turn seemed to give Big Brown the position he would need to surge to the front, but the surge never came. As the crowed roared in the hope that the colt would put on a burst of speed around the far turn, Big Brown instead began to fade. Jockey Kent Desormeaux eased up and guided him home at the back of the pack, knowing the "foregone conclusion" of a victory -- so arrogantly proclaimed by trainer Rick Dutrow -- was not to be.

As much as anything, the result confirmed the greatness of the 11 previous Triple Crown winners, along with the realization of how difficult a feat it is to pull off racing's hallowed trifecta. In the 1970s we were spoiled, first by the incomparable Secretariat, then by Seattle Slew and Affirmed. Three Triple Crown winners in one decade. . .and none in the 30 years since. The schedule -- three races in six weeks -- along with the varying distances and track conditions make it a grueling test. And seeing Big Brown simply run out of gas was a testament to how truly great Secretariat was. Just recalling Chic Anderson's famous call of Secretariat's blowout victory at the '73 Belmont ("He is moving like a tremendous machine!") elicits chills. (Watch it here -- it's simply amazing.)

But Big Brown wasn't up to the task, joining the ranks of recent predecessors like Funny Cide and Smarty Jones. Da' Tara won for only the second time in eight starts, a 38-1 long shot stealing the show on a day when racing fans longed for a coronation. Casino Drive, considered earlier in the week to be Brown's biggest threat, was scratched because of a bruise on his left hind foot. Once that news became known, people were expecting to witness history. But it wasn't to be.

It's disappointing, in one way. But folks in the racing game weren't crying. While expressing admiration for Big Brown, few sympathized with Dutrow or his employers, International Equine Acquisitions Holdings. To find out why, read Peter Thomas Fornatale's op-ed piece in Saturday's New York Times.

Are the Indians still playing?

Well, sure. It's just hard to get excited about them, that's all.

One day, they pummel an opponent. The next, they lose. Then they win. Then they lose. And so on. And so on. And so on.

Yesterday they couldn't hold on in a tight game at Detroit. Rafael Betancourt (left), who has been as terrible this year as he was amazing last, erased all doubt by surrendering a late grand slam in an 8-4 loss. Well, thanks, Rafael. The suspense was killing me, anyway.

Step back for a moment and it's easy to see that this season ain't exactly on cruise control. The Tribe's number one starter is 3-8, their number two starter in on the disabled list, and their number three starter, Jake Westbrook, is now out for the season. Their number three hitter, who hasn't exactly been hitting, is on the DL, and their number four hitter has no home runs. Their middle infielders can't decide who's going to hit worse, so their utility man is seemingly always in the lineup.

It's a long season, and nobody's showing signs of running away in the A.L. Central, so the Indians aren't out of it. But it's June, and the team is still stumbling along. Note what Boston did in their recent series with Tampa Bay. They reconfirmed their status as champions and sent the Rays packing with their stingers between their legs. There appear to be no such playground bullies in the Central Division.

Jim McKay

There's little I can add to the volumes of praise that flowed from the sports world and the nation after word came of the death of legendary sportscaster Jim McKay, who died Saturday at the age of 86. He was, quite simply, one of the voices of a generation of sports fans who were drawn to their TV sets in the era of three networks and little else, and he was the defining voice of ABC Sports. Seeing clips of his work being played this weekend, and hearing the sound of his voice, took me, and millions of other fans, back to a simpler time, before the din of noise that is 24 hour televised sports. We eagerly anticipated the stories that McKay would deliver, regardless of the topic, and trusted his sure, steady demeanor. His groundbreaking work on "ABC's Wide World of Sports," and his understated, sobering reporting of the 1972 Olympic tragedies in Munich cemented his reputation as one of the greatest reporters of his time -- and all time. The voices of McKay and Chris Schenkel, his colleague at ABC, were comfortable and reassuring, week after week. They're both gone now, and, with them, our fond memories of a golden age in televised sports.