Barrett? It's his third consecutive Anti All-Star season. At least this time he hasn't fought with one of his own pitchers in the dugout. Or the opposing team's catcher at the plate.
First base: Richie Sexson, free agent.
Whatever you do, don't read the nutritional label posted on Sexson's packaging! The fat and calories alone in his $14 million salary this season would drive most consumers toward immediate angioplasty. Just ask fired manager John McLaren and the fired Bavasi -- part of the reason they are gone is because Seattle just couldn't stomach this team, baseball's biggest underachievers, which Sexson helped bring down.
|
|
| Rickie Weeks isn't doing much to help the Brewers in the NL Central. (Getty Images) |
Second base: Rickie Weeks, Milwaukee.
As Milwaukee scraps and battles, Weeks far too often couldn't find first base if you gave him a map, a copy of Abner Doubleday's rules and walked him halfway there. Not that he's having a difficult season, but at midweek he was hitting .207 with 61 punch-outs and 36 walks.
Weeks is having such a rough time that when he became ill earlier this month, nobody could even tell whether it was food poisoning or a stomach virus. He was given fluids intravenously at a local doctor's office. Presumably, it also came with this advice: An apple a day, and stop swinging at bad pitches, and it'll keep the doctor away.
Shortstop: Jose Reyes, Mets.
He's got talent. He's got speed. He's got pizzazz. He's also got an infuriating case of immaturity.
The most egregious sin for anyone blessed with this much talent -- baseball player, pianist, painter -- is to not get the most out of it. Right now, that's Reyes. Sure, his numbers are respectable. But this guy has the tools to be great. And he won't put out to get there.
I was there in Anaheim when he threw a colossal fit on the field when interim manager Jerry Manuel removed him from the game as a precautionary measure to protect a mildly strained hamstring. It was the worst thing I've seen on the field since Jose Guillen threw a similar fit years ago while playing for the Angels.
Reyes embarrassed himself and the Mets organization with his petulant tantrum and helmet-flinging episode. Manuel handled it well behind closed doors later, but that didn't erase the very public picture of Reyes acting like a spoiled little brat.
It wasn't long after that he showed up Carlos Delgado when the first baseman failed to make a play on a borderline throw from Reyes at short.
Colorado's Troy Tulowitzki was considered after he injured himself while slamming his maple bat to the ground in anger and landed on the disabled list. But this year, Reyes is the obvious call. Grow up, Jose.
Third base: Alex Rodriguez, Yankees.
He's in line for a lifetime contract as an Anti All-Star after his incredibly selfish -- and not forgotten -- act of opting out of his Yankees contract during the Red Sox's World Series-clinching victory last fall. He might be starting the real All-Star Game, but after essentially putting out a signal that he thinks he is bigger than the game by the arrogant and stupid timing of the opt-out move, there's no question he very much retains many Anti All-Star qualities.
First he stole the thunder from the World Series, now he's grabbing the spotlight at the All-Star Game with Madonna. Can't wait to see what he pulls for next spring's World Baseball Classic.
Left field: Paul McAnulty, San Diego.
Finally and mercifully optioned to Triple-A Portland this week, McAnulty has spent most of this season as Poster Boy for the bullheaded philosophies of Padres president Sandy Alderson, assistant Paul DePodesta and others in the executive offices who have made a shambles of this one-time NL West contender.
The New Padres don't believe in power or speed. They don't believe in defense or defensive range. They don't believe in throwing out opposing base runners. They don't believe in advance scouts. Aside from on-base percentage, it's difficult to tell exactly where they place their faith.
What's obvious is this: They are force-feeding antiquated philosophies that peaked during the Steroid Era (collect guys who can get on base and then the occasional three-run homer will take you home) in a park where they don't fit in an era when successful baseball teams have figured out you need multi-dimensional players to succeed. And many of those players have high baseball IQ -- which these Padres mostly don't.
