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Family Man |
 JOSE CONTRERAS |
Excuses, excuses--but
maybe some are real
By MAURY ALLEN
of TheColumnists.com
The three biggest lies begin with, “The check
is in the mail," "Of course, I love you or I wouldn’t
be doing this" and "I want to spend more time with
my family.”
The first two are for another column. This is about wanting to
spend more time with the family.
Jose Contreras is a Cuban-born pitcher for the New York Yankees.
He defected from Cuba in October of 2002 while representing his
country in a tournament in Mexico. Is Fidel Castro never going
to learn?
He soon signed a $36 million deal with the Yankees. He was 7-2
with the team in 18 games last year, settled comfortably in a
huge Miami home in the Spanish-speaking area of the city, was
slapped around in the World Series against Florida last year
and came to spring training this year a major question mark.
After getting off poorly he was shipped to the minors where he
could work with Billy Connors, the pitching guru of the Yankees
who can resurrect more dead pitchers than Bela Lugosi as Dracula.
Contreras bounced around the Yankees all season with a good game
here, a bad game there, a model of inconsistency, a capital punishment
baseball crime.
Now the press began boring in on him. He didn’t speak English
and his Spanish-speaking catcher, Jorge Posada, did and he couldn’t
explain Contreras, either. Maybe the pitcher had fibbed about
his age of 32 in the books, a common tale that would rate up
there with the popular lies.
All the shrinks among the press felt stymied. The guy threw hard,
threw strikes, had plenty of experience and seemed sound. Why
couldn’t he win?
Last weekend his wife and two children, 11 and 3, arrived in
Florida on a smuggler’s boat. Part of the $36 million the
Yankees paid him was put to good use.
Quicker than you can say Jackie Robinson, the family was up north
with Contreras, sitting in owner George Steinbrenner’s box,
watching the right hander beat the Mets.
He wanted to be with his family. He was and he won. Now what?
(The Mets pounded Contreras hard the next time they met over
the past weekend.)
Now he joins the legion of 750 other big league ball players
who can have their families with them any time they want. Do
they want?
After nearly half a century of hanging around ball players, I
smirk at all this. Maybe Contreras missed his family. Maybe he
just couldn’t get his curve ball over the plate. Maybe he
missed the softer competition of Cuba. Maybe he just didn’t
find any other Cubans on the club to hang out with in those dull
days when the team was in Kansas City and he wasn’t scheduled
to pitch.
If George Bush wins re-election in November, “I want to
spend more time with my family” will become a national cry.
Colin Powell, of course, will be the leadoff hitter. Goodbye,
Colin. Very few non-believers take two terms in the government
they do not emotionally support.
If John Kerry wins and most of the Washingtonians are discharged
for cause, few will worry about their families. They will chase
around the country to the offices of huge, waiting corporations
for the big bucks former White House aides are destined to make.
Will any of them ask the kids if they would rather live in New
York or Chicago than beautiful downtown D.C. Hell, no. They go
where the bucks are.
Ball players are the same way. They have been that way ever since
the salary checks were put in their hands twice a month instead
of the mail, maybe a hundred or so years ago. They chase the
Series ring and the salary checks.
About 35 years ago I became this kind of a family cynic about
ball players after the New York Mets won the 1969 pennant. They
were called Amazing and the championship series was one of the
great sports upsets of all times. Interest was enormous.
I got in my car about six weeks after the Series and traveled
across America visiting members of the Mets in their home towns.
Only, it didn’t work out very well. I called each guy a
day or two before I was to arrive in his area so we could set
up a convenient time for a little reminiscence about the season
and a little description among the home folks what the championship
meant.
Of the 25 players on that championship team, I could connect
with only five of them at home. The other 20 were on hunting
trips with each other, fishing trips with friends, appearing
at card shows for money, roaming the banquet circuit or playing
winter baseball in Venezuela or the Dominican Republic.
This was all with families, right? They had moaned all season
about how they missed their families. C’mon. The families
were all home and I visited with a lot of the wives and kids
and spoke to the guys on the phone.
I don’t know Jose Contreras. In fact I have never spoken
to him in Spanish, which I can’t speak, or via a translator
who battles English. I don’t know if he will travel in the
off-season or be away from his family as much as he can in the
on-season.
All I know, from my own experience, is that when you hear, “I
want to spend more time with my family,” start giggling.
It is very rarely true.
Oh, how about me and my family when I did all that traveling.
Oh, they were too busy to go on the road with me.
©2004 by Maury Allen. The Maury Allen caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. The photo of Jose Contreras is courtesy the Jose Contreras Online Shrine website.
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