Forty days is how long Catholics give up stuff for lent. It’s 37 less days than Kim Kardashian’s marriage to Kris Humphries. It’s only six days longer than LenDale White’s time as a Seattle Seahawk. And it’s the precise length of the Chone Figgins era with the Miami Marlins.
Figgins was signed by a team that traded away all of their prominent veterans not named Giancarlo Stanton this offseason, and a team that could pretty much keep him for as little money as the collective bargaining agreement would allow, and Figgins got cut. That’s like getting your public access show cancelled .That’s like getting booed off stage at a bachelor auction in which the proceeds fund research for an incurable disease.
Over at Seattle Sportsnet Alex Akita has begun a crusade to bring Figgins back just to enjoy the satisfaction of cutting him again. Alex, for his part, has no formal training as a general manager, but today’s news certain adds probability to a scenario once thought to be impossible. By the way, I tried to find a viable, short quote from his post to whet your beak a bit, and make you click through and read his post. I couldn’t do it because his post is nuts, and I’d almost certainly be omitting critical context if I pulled any 300 words on their own. So go read it.
Figgins probably isn’t good at baseball anymore. He did have a .308 batting average in spring, but spring stats mean nothing, and Figgins had exactly zero extra base hits.
Some people will celebrate Figgins’ failure. They’ll dance on the tomb of a guy who was once a pretty good major leaguer, and that got signed by a team in Seattle that needed more pretty good major leaguers, and then that guys stopped being a pretty good major leaguer.
At some point though, this becomes the baseball equivalent to trying to stomp the life out of a turd in a puddle. It starts out as a good time, then you realize that once again you’re knee deep in shit.
I’ve worked places where I internally celebrated a firing. There are jerks, lazy people, and untalented people in any profession. The difference, of course, is that there aren’t a half-dozen databases to allow me and my co-workers to re-live the failures of our past colleague, for better or worse.
Chone Figgins used to be a Mariner, and he used to be a Marlin. He is probably at the end of the line of his big league career, and we care. Or we don’t care. Or something.