Apparently it wasn’t the manager.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
By the time this August rolled around, Lynch had gone the way of Riggleman, and Andy MacPhail had stepped down from the team president’s office to assume the role of general manager, a position he’d held previously in Minnesota, where he won two world championships with the Twins. Yet the sort of team MacPhail was putting together seemed no clearer a concept than Lynch’s teams, which were usually ragtag bunches that mixed obvious talent with obvious deficiencies, thanks to Tribune Company budget constraints. Were this year’s Cubs a veteran team or one building for tomorrow? Veteran, until they went in the tank and started trading for younger players–but even then they would take a chance on someone like Rondell White, the Montreal Expos’ undeniably skilled but often injured outfielder, who is not exactly a kid. Were they a team based on power or on speed? Maybe both, maybe neither; after Sammy Sosa they had little power, but after Eric Young they had little speed. Were they a team based on hitting or on pitching and defense? They entered last week ranked 14th out of the 16 National League teams in batting average, and 10th in runs scored–atrocious results given that they play half their games in Wrigley Field, a notorious hitters’ haven. They were a respectable third in fielding percentage but 15th in double plays, despite pitchers who permitted no shortage of base runners who might be doubled up. The one thing that could definitely be said about the Cubs is that they weren’t a pitching team, ranking 11th in earned run average–well, and also that they had no real identity beyond being Sammy Sosa’s team, the crowd-pleasing but generally inept Wrigley Field fun bunch.
That’s the situation the Cubs find themselves in, only they don’t have as much pure talent as the Astros, who have lately found a way to win by bashing teams with offense and closing out close games behind new ace Scott Elarton, with Dotel now the closer in the bull pen. A sense of self, of the sort of team one is becoming, is essential, because it simplifies everything else and helps small details fall into place. Look at the White Sox, who established themselves early as a bashing offensive team made up of butchers in the field and inexperienced kids on the mound. If that’s the sort of team the general manager is assembling, he makes the decision to bring in Jose Valentin at shortstop and to play Carlos Lee and Paul Konerko in spite of their defensive liabilities, and the pitchers learn to live with it. This approach has worked wonders for the Sox and figures to continue to work–until they find themselves facing a Pedro Martinez twice in a five-game playoff, with the daunting prospect of having to hit like Dick Butkus in the other three games in order to advance. The Cubs, of course, don’t have even a self-image going for them, and the first thing MacPhail and manager Don Baylor are going to have to do is decide just what sort of team they’re trying to build.
