Corsicana Daily Sun, Corsicana, Texas

February 22, 2013

Morgan: Hamilton doesn't feel DFW is a ‘true baseball town?'

By Ron Morgan
Corsicana Daily Sun

— I swear that I didn’t know that Josh Hamilton had already used the Hillary Clinton answer when I wrote that column a couple of weeks ago. You know, the one where Hillary, when asked about the video excuse for Benghazi answered, “What difference, at this point, does it make?” I suggested that Josh use that answer. He already has used it. During the final series of the season, when the Rangers were swept by the A’s, Hamilton dropped a pop fly in center field. When Ron Washington confronted him in the dugout and asked what happened, Josh replied, “What ____ing difference does it make?” Maybe that’s where Hillary got it.

Now, we had all long ago figured out that Josh wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier. He’s been called a five tool player, fast, strong, tattooed, even a hypochondriac. I can truly say I’ve never heard anyone accuse him of being smart. Do you remember the old public service ad where they show an egg followed by an egg in a frying pan, with a voiceover saying, “This is your brain. This is your brain on drugs.”? Think of Josh’s brain as an egg. If drugs kill brain cells, you can imagine just how just how desolate the inside of his head must be.

Last week, when local sports reporter Gina Miller interviewed Josh at the Angels’ spring training, Hamilton blasted the DFW fandom. He said there weren’t many real baseball fans in the Metroplex. The fans in this area have always been football fans. I guess real baseball fans wouldn’t boo him when he lackadaisically drops a pop fly, takes himself out of a crucial game or hurriedly swings at three straight pitches to get back to the dugout.  He should be glad he wasn’t playing in Philadelphia. They would have thrown out things a bit more solid than boos. Of course, they must be hockey fans.

I’ve have talked about the preemptive apology before. This was the preemptive excuse for the first time the Angels come to the Ballpark, and the boos rain down on Josh. It will be because we’re not real baseball fans. We’re just Cowboy fans looking for something to do until training camp starts. We may be booing Josh, but in reality we’re booing Jerry for the 16 years we’ve spent wandering around in the desert looking for the Promised Land. We don’t really care about the Rangers. That would be 3.5 million “not true baseball fans.” We’re just frustrated with the Cowboys. Maybe we’re just angry because Josh found the Land of Milk and Honey in California.

Remember, now. Josh headed to the Angel’s to get away from you devils. It was divine intervention that led him to the gold (They were afraid to offer him the frankincense and myrrh; afraid he might try to snort them.)

When he told the Los Angeles audience at his introductory press conference why he chose to come west instead of staying with the Rangers, he had to get his wife to take the microphone to explain it. Katie explained that Jon Daniels and Nolan should have acted quickly to resign Josh. She said, “They let us go out and date other people and kind of give our hearts away. I’m so glad they didn’t. We feel strongly this is where God moved us and planted us.” It was just a coincidence that the Almighty chose the place that offered the most money. (And where medical marijuana is legal.)

The Rangers just didn’t show the love.  Forget that they traded away their top pitching prospect five years ago for a player who had been banished by baseball to Baseball Purgatory for four years. His original team, the Devil Rays, had given up on him. The Cincinnati Reds picked him up in the Rule 5 draft, then traded him to the Rangers for pitcher Edison Vasquez.

Never mind that the Rangers hired a full time babysitter to look after Josh, or that they overlooked the occasions when he fell off the wagon or even winked at him playing patty cake with some unknown woman (who wasn’t his wife) in the restroom at some bar.  Who cares if they played the role of the concerned parent when he couldn’t hit during the day because his sun glasses didn’t work, or that he had blurry vision from too much Red Bull. We, the football fans, didn’t show him the love.

The real baseball fans must be the ones showing up at Jerry World booing Tony Romo. It’s an easy mistake to make. The two stadiums are almost next door. Just remember: the one with the roof is for the football fans, the one winning playoff games is for the baseball fans. The owner of one sells certified choice beef while the owner of the other sells bologna. Amen!