If you remember the old Washington Generals, then you should remember Red Klotz, the 5-7 Mel Brooks-lookalike player/coach who spent a good chunk of his lifetime as the most recognizable foil of the Harlem Globetrotters.
Klotz’s Generals lost to the Globetrotters more than 14,000 times and beat them once or twice, depending whom you ask. As win-loss records go, that one’s not very good. As a matter of fact, it’s even worse, if you can believe it, than White Sox manager Pedro Grifol’s record of 76-149 going into Friday’s game against the Red Sox at Guaranteed Rate Field.
Why are we talking about Klotz, who died in 2014? That’s a good question that has no good answer. It’s a ridiculous way to begin a column about a ridiculous Sox organization and team with a ridiculous managerial situation among countless other ridiculous problems.
Anyway, one thing Klotz never did was accuse his Generals players of being “[bleeping] flat.” Or did he? Nobody knows. But we all heard Grifol call his Sox players “[bleeping] flat” after a recent game against the Orioles, one of the best teams in all of baseball, in a moment that was peak ridiculousness.
The Sox are so outmanned on a nightly basis, they might as well be having their pants pulled down and buckets of confetti thrown in their faces by opponents. If the Sox got rid of every player who doesn’t belong in the big leagues, they’d be able to get from team hotels to ballparks on the road in a single Uber. How could anyone tell if a team like this were flat? Grifol might as well have ripped a family of garden snails for not hustling.
A story this week from national baseball writer Ken Rosenthal asserted that Grifol — in the second year of a three-year contract — is certain to be fired by the Sox, with the only question being when. It could be at the end of the season, or it might be sooner. Grifol seemed to already understand this in a conversation Tuesday with the Sun-Times when he said, “If the decision is made, it’s made” and, “I’m a White Sock until I’m not a White Sock.”
Rosenthal’s story asked if top Sox prospects who could be brought to the majors this season would thrive under Grifol, which must have been a trick question because — clearly — no one is thriving. Not the players, not the coaches, not the equipment staff, not the Miller Lite vendors. Fine, maybe the Campfire Milkshake makers, but that’s definitely it.
The story also wondered who would step in and manage out the string if Grifol were jettisoned in-season. Bench coach Charlie Montoyo, who has managerial experience, is an obvious possibility. Also mentioned was Tony La Russa — who has been with the team as an adviser to newbie general manager Chris Getz and old-pal chairman Jerry Reinsdorf — but Rosenthal essentially wrote off the two-time Sox skipper as a non-starter.
I have a beef with that story, and it’s that it didn’t have enough of an appreciation for the ridiculous.
Yes, La Russa is exactly the man for the job right now. For one thing, Klotz isn’t available. For another — and this is of the utmost importance — there’s the whole ridiculous motif of this column that I may or may not be embarrassed and ashamed to have embarked upon.
Perhaps the only thing left to do for all of us subjected to this Sox season is embrace the ridiculousness of it all. There’s cringeworthy announcer John Schriffen, whose rookie season has been far worse than Grifol’s was when the Sox were 61-101 in 2023. There’s temperamental veteran Tommy Pham, who will have to try to fight people somewhere else if and when the Sox move him before the trade deadline. There’s Grifol telling the Sun-Times — hilariously — how seriously Reinsdorf wants to win, as if anything could be less believable.
There’s Andrew Benintendi signing the biggest contract in Sox history, then putting up — talk about “Sox math” — the worst numbers on the planet. There are Luis Robert Jr. and Garrett Crochet, seemingly the only two players on the roster with star talent, potentially being traded to real teams with real notions about winning. There’s the longest Sox losing streak ever, for the love of Pete, and the fact Grifol’s winning percentage with the Sox (.338) is lower than Mark Kotsay’s is with the A’s (.348) in what supposedly was the most hopeless scenario in managerial history.
It has to be La Russa. He’s healthy again, bless him. His hair is already gray. His Hall of Fame status is set in stone no matter how many buddy movies he makes with Reinsdorf.
As Grifol said, “The thing is, every mistake we make is biting us in the ass.”
Fire up the Tony train, then. Why the hell not?
It would be [bleeping] perfect.
