The Worst Trade In Baseball

Dr. Uetz

I was in Colorado last weekend and happened to be lucky enough to have the time to grab a beer with my old friends Mike Cubbage and Louis Freeh. Both were there for the Carbondale Mountain Fair. I was there to clear my head and do some fly fishing. I needed time away from what was happening in the world.

It didn't take long for the chatter to turn to baseball - I steered it in that direction so I could gloat about the Mets, their 13 game lead, and their pending sweep of the Braves in Atlanta. It was good and it made Mike happy. But leave it to Louis to drag us down with trade talk.

The trade deadline is a strange and twisted border that we approach with a childish curiosity every year. And for several days after we pass it by, we spend countless hours discussing who won and who lost in the world of trades. It's good fodder. Because deadlines, like ultimatum, cause us to do some stupid shit. "You're going to the Michael Bolton concert with my mother and I or there will be no more sex for a month." So you go to the Bolton concert like a dumb ass. Or you send Tom Seaver to the fucking Reds. Ouch.

Baseball and life are full of odd deadlines that cause us to suspend our disbelief and move on with sketchy decisions. The 1:00 AM bar deadline has probably been the catalyst for some of history's worst decisions. (New Year's Eve is even worse, moving decisions up to 11:30 - could be responsible for John Wilkes Booth, Robin Leach, Chris Tucker, Dr. Phil, and Keanu Reeves.)

We will see what happens with the big trades from the '06 deadline. There's no way of telling. Maddux could love the west coast air and return to the form that made him one of the greatest pitchers of the last 20 years - it certainly it won't hurt to get out of Wrigley. Sean Casey, back in a pennant race, could revisit 2004 - he certainly has the skills. The Yankees have no farm system. What? I just wanted to say it, I don't care that it doesn't fit. Eat it. One thing is for sure, Texas will still be Texas with Carlos Lee; he's not a very good pitcher.

There are no guarantees in life; and if you find yourself on the verge of greatness you might make a plunge that would otherwise seem ludicrous. You might find yourself ordering the use of constitutionally questionable tactics on nonviolent protestors. Or you might trade Frank Robinson for Milt Pappas. (Frank Robinson, by the way, could be a great result of New Year's Eve. He was born on Aug. 31. Charlie Parker was born Aug. 29)