Alfonso Soriano makes $10 million a year to play baseball. You'd think that he'd be content to play any position that his manager tells him to play, but apparently Soriano thinks he's above all that.
He was traded to the Nationals this past off season from the Texas Rangers. He's been a second baseman for most of his six-year career (he played a little shortstop and third base during his first season with the Yankees), but the Nationals didn't need Soriano to play second base. They have Jose Vidro who is a far better fielder (Soriano had the worst fielding percentage of all MLB second baseman last season who played enough games at the position to qualify for a ranking).
A few days ago, Soriano refused to play left field when manager Frank Robinson told him to do so. Then he refused again the next day. That prompted Nationals' GM Jim Bowden to threaten Soriano with the disqualification list—which meant that Soriano wouldn't have been paid until he changed his mind. Bowden had apparently already started to consult with MLB to make sure he could move Soriano to the DQ list, but Soriano caved and agreed to play left field yesterday.
If I were the Nationals' GM, I would still put Soriano on the DQ list. Refusing to play where his manager told him to is grounds for disqualification—and frankly, in my mind, I'd be looking to dump this headache somewhere else. I don't care how good Soriano is at the plate (and even that is debatable—he swings at everything and strikes out way too much), he doesn't deserve a spot on a major league roster.
I'm currently reading a book called The Last Nine Innings by Charles Euchner. In a chapter in which Euchner discusses "swinging styles," he said this: "Old-timers often disdain the uppercut. In its early days, baseball was a game of singles and doubles. Hall of Fame players like Ty Cobb, Honus Wagner, and Nelson Fox mastered the art of getting their bat on the ball, punching the ball through infield holes and outfield gaps. In an era dominated by pitching and fielding—as well as a Puritan ethic of small, unpretentious contributions to a team's offense—batters learned to swing down on the ball."
Imagine that—a puritan work ethic that was more concerned with the success of the team than an individual's next contract. What I wouldn't give for a return to those days. Whatever happened to running ground balls out, or bunting runners over, or slapping a ball to the right side to advance a runner? None of those things are nearly as sexy, but so what?
I'd love to see baseball teams either cut guys like Soriano loose (which is difficult to do in MLB with guaranteed contracts) or DQ them for a long period of time. Insubordination doesn't work in the real world and it shouldn't in MLB either.
