In the 42 years I’ve been a Cubs fan, the team has had a dependable centerfielder for only five of them. That was Rick Monday from 1972 through 1976. Once in a great while, though, a Cubs centerfielder might flash onto the scene only to disappear almost before we realized we had him.
Bob Dernier teamed with Ryne Sandberg in 1984 to form what Harry Caray christened the Daily Double at the top of the Cubs order. Dernier was as fast as the wind, catching everything that was hit between leftfielder Gary Mathews and rightfielder Keith Moreland, which was pretty much everything that was hot to the outfield. A fairish offensive force, Dernier put in only a single full season with the team.
A half decade later, Jerome Walton exploded on the scene, winning the rookie of the year award in 1989. Speaking of Harry, the old man by that time was mangling the language every time he opened his mouth. Once, when Walton made a nifty catch to squelch an opposition rally, Harry was so excited that when he tried to say Walton’s first name and explain what the kid had done, it all came out as some mash-up that sounded like “Geronimo!” The very next year, Walton turned into a bum.
In 1994, the Cubs installed a 25-year-old kid as leadoff man and centerfielder. In the kid’s first three at bats against Doc Gooden on opening day, he hit three home runs. I wasn’t listening to Harry that day so I can only imagine how he muddled Karl “Tuffy” Rhodes when the kid hit his third home run of the game in the fifth inning. Didn’t matter if Harry ever got the kid’s name right because Rhodes had played himself out of a job by July.
A decade later, Kenny Lofton came aboard in mid-season and sparked the Cubs to a division title. He had the effrontery to criticize Sammy Sosa for missing the cutoff man in a crucial spot during the playoffs so Lofton, naturally, was banished from the team immediately after it was eliminated.
Centerfield reverted to an empty hole in the batting order and the defense until 2008, when Hungry Jim Hendry turned in desperation to an aged Jim Edmonds, who’d just been released by the worst team in the league. A rejuvenated Edmonds hit fairly well and caught everything he could reach — which was a lot less than he could when he was under the age of 65.
So now, Hungry jim, faced with another gaping hole in the middle of the outfield, bestows a three-year, back-loaded contract on one Marlon Byrd, a fair player who nobody else even thought to offer a three-year package to.
Ho hum. The 2010 Cubs will finish with 90 losses. The party, such as it was, is over.
