The shades of Sammy

Sosa making the headlines, but not for his poor playing

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After Amber and I are married next week, we’re honeymooning in the Dominican Republic My running joke is that we’re going to visit my old friend, Sammy.

Former Chicago Cubs slugger Sammy Sosa is maybe the most famous resident of the Caribbean nation, at least in these parts. And I’m certain Sosa doesn’t remember it, but he and I do have a history.

Back in the days when I was a mere part-time sports writer and college student, Herald Sports Editor T.G. Smith and I would sneak up to Wrigley Field to cover the Cubs a time or two each summer. This was when Sosa was in his Flintstones-vitamin-fueled slugging heyday. A one-on-one with him would have been to a sports writer what a one-on-one with Richard Daley would be to an aspiring political writer. At least.

As the press is permitted to do, I was roaming around near the Cubs dugout well before a game, notebook in hand, looking to talk to anyone in pinstripes that wasn’t busy in the batting practice cage and would acknowledge my existence. My path crossed Sosa’s almost directly, and after swallowing the lump in my throat, I gave it my best shot:

“Hey, Sammy, you got a minute?”

All I got in reply was a mumbled, “I’ve got to go take B.P.”

That’s an acceptable excuse for any ballplayer. Preparing for the opponent that day — I believe it was the San Francisco Giants — should take priority over answering the queries of any scribe, let alone one that looks like he’s there reporting for his high school weekly.

The thing is, Sosa spent maybe 30 seconds longer in the cage that morning than I did. And though he had ample time to sit in the clubhouse for an extended period right after taking his hacks, listening to music, Sosa never did get around to granting my interview request.

I’m not sharing this story to rip Sosa or because I hold a grudge against him for it. I happen to think it’s amusing story, and the only grudge I hold against Sosa is as a Cubs fan, for ending his career with the team like he did. At the time, Sosa probably got asked to talk more per game day than Jay Cutler gets intercepted, and I absolutely do not fault him for not wanting to bother with me.

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