The Chicago Cubs agreed to trade Carlos Zambrano to Miami. Ozzie Guillen manages that team, in case you hadn’t heard, so Zambrano will be taking his talents to what is now Mouth Beach.
The deal, of course, will not be official until Zambrano passes a physical.
Zambrano is the worst kind of teammate short of Full Metal Milton Bradley. Now he’s the best kind of teammate because he won’t be a Cub anymore.
It was going to happen. Geez, it had to happen. The Cubs had no choice once Zambrano quit on the field by gutlessly throwing at Chipper Jones to get himself ejected and then spinelessly walking out on his team last August.
Kerry Wood said Zambrano is a nutbag only on the day he pitches. Good to know. Let me file that away. And what does Zambrano do for a living? Pitch? Yes. Well.
Now he’ll pitch for the Marlins. Now he’ll show people the difference between the lunatic poseur who manages the team and a Hall of Fame lunatic pitcher.
That, see, is the next-best thing to the Cubs’ paying $15 million to dump the infantile Zambrano:
The people who mischaracterize Guillen as crazy will see what crazy really is.
Guillen is loquacious, opinionated, relentless, funny and honest. He also can be selfish and shortsighted as he was the last month of the season.
But that’s not crazy. Zambrano acts crazy. Zambrano will show Guillen and all of Mouth Beach what crazy is all about.
Zambrano will show everybody that even his bonkers have bonkers.
I mean, the guy doesn’t just fly over the cuckoo’s nest, he charters a jet for it.
Calling Guillen crazy has always been, well, crazy. It has been wrong. People have confused volume with volatility. Guillen is loud and smart. Zambrano is wild and nuts.
Guillen might leave the dugout to argue a play and end up kicking a catcher’s mask. Zambrano will slug the actual catcher.
Guillen might argue so loudly that he’ll get run from a game by an umpire. Zambrano tries to run over the umpire.
Guillen often tries to protect his players. Zambrano humiliates his teammates with a diva act on the field, a psychotic act in the dugout, and then calls them out in the clubhouse.
Guillen might’ve gone too far in playing the disastrous duo Adam Dunn and Alex Rios to the point where he was spiting his general manager, but he certainly gave them a chance to help the White Sox. Zambrano regularly cramped up and left games because he refused to listen to trainers, and then couldn’t even make starts because he refused to adhere to back-strengthening programs.
Guillen might go off on an amusing and harmless rant at any moment while his team was taking batting practice. Zambrano regularly went off on Gatorade machines while his team was trying to win an actual game.
People only think Guillen is a maniac. Zambrano actually is. Can’t wait for “Spontaneous Combustion Night.’’
Forget Ozzie: Z brings real lunacy to Mouth Beach