By David KalanThe Daily Northwestern
Something pretty good happened in the Chicago sports scene this week.
I know what you’re thinking, but, no it’s not Martin Havlat’s goal in the NHL All-Star Game.
This wasn’t on the ice, the hardwood or the gridiron, where I hear the Bears did something.
It’s the ivy-covered outfield of Wrigley Field, where the Cubbies made an addition that went surprisingly under the radar.
They signed Cliff Floyd, a Chicagoan who, in a 14-year career, never has played in the Windy City.
You’re probably wondering why I’m enamored by a 35-year-old with Achilles problems. But, as a Mets fan during the depressing stretch from 2002 to 2004, Cliff was the best thing in Queens.
Yes, Mike Piazza was hitting home runs, but he needed help. That arrived in Floyd, who had spent most of his career with his claim to fame as being the last remaining 1997 Florida Marlin.
Floyd didn’t really hit it big until the 2001 season, hitting .317 with 31 home runs and 103 RBI. Then he was the hottest trade bait around until he hit the free market and inked a contract with the Amazin’s.
While, the Mets didn’t bring Floyd back for the 2007 campaign, there’s no denying he was a solid player – he’s hit an average of .279 with 24 home runs and 89 RBI a year during his career – and more importantly, a solid citizen.
Chemistry matters in baseball. Ask any Yankee fan who saw the pinstripes win championships with Paul O’Neill, Scott Brosius and Luis Sojo if they appreciate chemistry after watching the championship-less all-stars that have spent the last six seasons in the Bronx.
Floyd was an integral part of the Mets’ clubhouse, keeping things light and mentoring David Wright when he broke into the big leagues.
He was injured for most of the Mets playoff run, but if you don’t think he played a role, you’re as naive as a franchise giving an 8-year $136 million contract with a no trade clause to a 31-year-old.
In fact, the way Floyd ended that playoff makes it tough to see him go, striking out as the potential pennant-winning run. He hobbled to the plate when Willie Randolph sent him in as a pitch-hitter. But Mets fans saw Kirk Gibson in their heads, hoping he could drive a first-pitch fastball all the way to Detroit.
But rather than ending up 512 feet beyond the left field wall at Shea Stadium it wound up in the catcher’s mitt. Two strikes later Floyd’s career as a Met was over.
It’s sad that will be his last moment in orange and blue, but as his career winds down, its nice to think he’ll play a similar role with his revitalized hometown Cubs, mashing balls in the July afternoon onto Sheffield and Waveland avenues.
It’s a fitting end to a solid career, and good place for a solid citizen.
Sports Editor David Kalan is a Weinberg senior. He waxes nostalgic every Friday. Reach him at [email protected].
