Memo to Sammy Sosa:
It’s time to give it up, big guy.
You’re 35 years old but no longer the constellation-busting supernova of the late 1990s. Your skills have diminished to the point that you are nothing but the hole in the Cubs’ scrumptious bagel of a lineup.
Despite the occasional dinger, you have left more men stranded this season than Paris Hilton.
Never that great a defender, you are now the Chevy Chase of the Cubs’ outfield.
Memo to Dusty Baker:
If you insist on continuing to play Sosa, it’s time to move your cleanup slugger down in the lineup as befits a man hitting only .223 since the All-Star break and only .143 in late innings of close games.
How far down?
With the production of Nomar Garciaparra added to the heavy lumber of Aramis Ramirez and Derrek Lee, the eight hole would be a good place to start. Except when Kerry Wood or Mark Prior are starting. Then No. 9 might be more fitting.
Memo to Cubs fans:
Stop booing Sosa every time he fails. He deserves better. He’s a proud and stubborn man who doesn’t recognize his bat is a tad slower and his body is a tad thicker.
And it only makes him more determined to stay where he is–to the detriment of his teammates.
Sosa should be cheered when he comes to bat for all that he’s meant to the franchise in the past.
And if he fails, which he does more often than not these days, let the silence be defeaning.
