White Sox fans have moved on from, um, ole what’s-his-name

A former Los Angeles Dodger and Baltimore Oriole third baseman, has signed with the San Diego Padres in the largest free agent contract in sports history. Now that he’s off the table, why should White Sox fans care?

I’m not going to mention his name. He isn’t Heisenberg. The White Sox didn’t need him. Thank God he didn’t sign with the White Sox.

And, by the way, this is not sour grapes.

Yeah, it would have been exciting news to sign him in terms of pure excitement and what it would say to the broader baseball world, but other than to show the team is doing something how does he fit into the mix? You have an infield of the present commensurate to the team’s current expectations, and an infield of the future who can hit, run and field. With a present and future framework, how in the world does $300 million for anyone make sense?

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Bitter? Nope. Insulted? Possibly. Remorseful? Absolutely not. Why should we be? White Sox fans, we just dodged a $300 million bullet at our heads. The drama, dissent, disciplining and disappointment that would have undoubtedly followed isn’t worth $100, let alone $300 million. The Sox have too many good things coming.

Cubs fans will delight because let’s be honest they’re losers. I know too many of them to know this is the absolute truth. But so what? When they fall short again this Fall, we’ll be the ones chuckling. Whenever Eloy Jimenez homers this season, we’ll laugh harder. When Dylan Cease arrives and shuts down Major League hitters as he did so commandingly last spring, we’ll spit up our spleens guffawing.

Mr. Rick Hahn – I’m addressing him with a title because I’m speaking to him directly now – you shouldn’t hang your head at all. This is not a personal disappointment, and this had nothing to do with your or the approach by the front office. He was never going to sign with us, and it was painfully obvious from the beginning. He looked more like a high school debutante who reluctantly accepted an invitation to the prom from an earnest, eager, early suitor, but then refused to get out of the car while scanning the parking lot for a better-looking date.

Forget these obvious moves, Hahn, and do the non-obvious. You do that SO well. Trade for Madison Bumgarner with fringe prospects without touching any of the core, and extend him. Wait for two years and sign Mike Trout, and get that top free agent when it really matters. Don’t fret about this failed process (or that of Bryce Harper when he signs in Philadelphia, which is going to happen…) because it doesn’t matter. Yet. It will in the not too distant future, but not yet.

Take our learnings and get ready for the big time. Big time players run everything out like they’re Jackie Robinson. They don’t trip other players. They don’t fake losing a helmet running out an extra-base hit to look cool. Big time players kill you when you don’t know it’s happening. The best sales rep comes across as completely harmless and non-threatening The last thing a killer does is get your heart racing and defense mechanisms up. They just beat you. They know how to win.

Finally we can look at Yoan Moncada at the hot corner, get ready for Jimenez, Cease and Nick Madrigal to step into the show, and not far after enjoy watching Michael Kopech, Luis Robert, Micker Adolfo, Zack Collins, Gavin Sheets, Jake Burger, Jimmy Lambert, and the host of other top prospects develop and deliver impact at the Major League level. The story was already here, the Sox didn’t need to write a $300 million check for anyone’s approval or validation.

I am more excited about this season than before. And feisty. It means something to play for a charter American League team and such a storied franchise. The Sox just haven’t found the right character yet, and by that, I mean a player with character. Someone willing to be the face of this franchise. The team of our future contention has a face of the franchise, Mr. White Stocking. He’s out there. Maybe he’s already here but has yet to arrive.

We’ll see what you-know-who does in San Diego, but that couldn’t be further away…2000 miles as the Oriole flies and off to the other league. No, the story is right here. It already had been. At least now we can get back to it.