Monday, March 21, 2011
DING, DONG, THE WITCH IS DEAD.
Our long national nightmare has ended. Oliver Perez has been released.
I don’t remember who was interviewing Cliff Floyd and when it happened, but I think Uncle Cliff hit the nail on the head when he was asked what he thought happened to Oliver: that the money went to his head. You can pinpoint the decline to that, to the intervention of THE GREAT SATAN himself, to the departure of Rick Peterson, to the WBC, hell, to Ollie getting married.
If I had to be armchair quarterback I’d pick the money and the marriage. The marriage made him fat, the money made him complacent, and he never recovered.
I wish he had redeemed himself. I wish he had lived up to his promise. I wasn’t quite buying that Sandy Koufax kool-aid Boras was handing out, but I also remember how it felt to think that we might have another ace! That he had been reclaimed! That we had a hidden jewel in our crown. Who wouldn’t want that on their baseball team?
Vaya con dios, OP.
