A Case of Candor--After the Fact

There is a protocol to be observed in the corporate world. It goes something like this:

“The board of directors of (the name of the company) wishes to announce, with deep regret, that it is severing its relationship with (name of the departing executive) after a long, happy affiliation. The company wishes to acknowledge his many contributions to its success.

“He is leaving to pursue some long-neglected personal projects, and we wish him well in those endeavors. We are proud to have been associated with him and are sure he has many productive years in whatever lies ahead for him and wish him to know he carries our good wishes with him wherever he decides to go.”

That’s the ordinary corporate goodby. Now, contrast that with the farewell address the corporation known as the San Francisco Giants used to sign off with their company executive, left fielder Kevin Mitchell.

Kevin, it so happens, is a world-class home run hitter. He hit 47, 35 and 27 homers in his last three years. He drove in 125 runs two years ago and was a major factor in putting the Giants on the top of the corporate ladder.

On the field, Kevin is a star. Off the field, he is a handful. There was that rape complaint earlier this month. That was dismissed when the woman decided not to press charges.

But Kevin’s choice of companions, generally, has bothered his team more than his more notorious indiscretions. Kevin sometimes seems to select his companions from a list of parolees. He has been known to drive up to the ballpark in the company of men who are more familiar with police lineups than baseball lineups.

Still, when the Giants uncoupled this slugger and dispatched him to the Seattle Mariners, the baseball fans of San Francisco reacted as if the club had just cut loose the town’s patron saint, St. Francis of Assisi.

General Manager Al Rosen, like a good company man, tried to play it by the book: Adhere to the code and release nothing but platitudes.

But then the abuse reached crescendo level and Rosen junked the form farewell in favor of the following evaluation, which he released to the national press. You will not find this in the white-collar manual:

“(Manager) Roger Craig and I built up this aura of Mitchell being a hard-playing guy. Well, it’s just the contrary. We had reached the point where we just had to stroke this guy just to keep him in the lineup.

“The headaches, the stomachaches, it was always something with this guy. The situation just got worse. There’s no way you’re going to change a guy like Kevin. Roger always had the belief that, if you got on him, he was just the kind of guy who would pack up and go home. That’s the kind of guy we had on our club.

“He reminds me of Richie Allen and/or Bobby Bonds. There are guys who just aren’t cornerstone players for a franchise. They moved around constantly and usually got traded for somebody with less ability. Seattle is the fourth club Mitchell’s been with, and I’ll tell you, it won’t be the last. We’ll win more than 75 games without Mitchell, and we’ll have a better time doing it. Write that down.”

Now that, sports fans, is a send-off! A burst of candor you will seldom hear coming out of an executive suite--or a front office.

I mean, try that on your resume, Kevin! Like, those are things you’ll never find on his bubble-gum card. Selected bank robbers might have expected a more equivocal send-off.

You may be sure to note that General Manager Rosen unloaded himself of those opinions of his slugger after the trade. You can bet the downside of Kevin Mitchell didn’t enter the general conversation until a trade was completed.

Not that General Manager Rosen got any candidates for Cooperstown for his troublesome outfielder. He didn’t get Who’s Who, he got Who’re They? He got pitchers named Bill Swift, Mike Jackson and Dave Burba. Before you go rummaging through Who’s Who In Baseball, be advised these are not exactly household names in the grand old game.

These guys are relief pitchers. They appeared in 165 games among them last year but started only two. Mitchell came cheap.

Jackson appeared in 72 games for the Mariners but pitched only 88 innings, to give you an idea. Swift pitched in 71 for 90 innings. Burba got the ball in 22 games for 36 innings. They are, however, game finishers. Swift finished 30, Jackson 35 and Burba 11.

Swift--in his case, it’s not really a description--has a chance to make the deal look good. His 17 saves featured a 1.99 earned-run-average. Jackson is most noted for leading two leagues--the Carolina and the National--in balks.

But the important thing is, the trade broke the unwritten rule on player swaps. The Latin poet told us never to speak evil of the departed-- “De mortuis nihil nisi bonum . “-- and baseball is usually only too happy to oblige. Particularly if they’re trying to get a starting pitcher for him.

Of course, Rosen’s laudable candor comes a little late for Seattle.

Can you imagine trader Rosen getting the Seattle general manager on the line before the trade and murmuring confidentially: “Look, I got this outfielder. Hits a few home runs now and then, drove in 125 runs one year. But before you get too excited, let me tell you, if there’s one thing this guy hates to do it’s play baseball. Hates to hit the curveball.

“He’ll make up any excuse to stay out of the lineup. Has to be coaxed to play. He’s not in too good a shape, either. Got this gut on him. Hangs around with a lot of guys who get their pictures put up in post offices. He tends to be overweight and under-motivated.

“I’d like to say he’d help your club, but you should know we have some guys in our clubhouse who won’t even speak to him. He tends to be a disruptive influence.”

But you know something? Even then, the other club’s response probably would be: “Tell me again about those home runs. And did you say 125 RBIs?”