The Curse Of The Scapegoat: Chicago Media's Need For a Fall Guy

Milton Bradley and Sammy Sosa have more in common than their uniform number.

Bradley, who this winter signed a three-year, 30 million-dollar deal to patrol what was once Sosa's domain in right field at Wrigley Field, came to the Windy City amidst persistent murmurs about his incendiary past, as well as his fragility over the past three seasons or so. He immediately had to answer questions about how he thought his presence would affect team chemistry, and about what had prompted so many of his past explosions.

During Spring Training, however, as Bradley proceeded to win over the clubhouse and hit over .400 in Cactus League play, the whispers began to quiet down. The concerns about his injury history continued to follow him, but for the Spring, at least, the media allowed him the benefit of the doubt.

Alas, it couldn't last. Bradley's 2009 season has been more turbulent than ever, and like Sosa's 2004, it has been so more because of media intrusiveness and bias than for any other reason. Sosa, like Bradley, became the scapegoat for broadcasters and print journalists alike, as each man's Cubs iteration fell into inconsistency and failed to live up to big expectations.

Sosa's hounds followed him with questions about alleged steroid use, his ever-lengthening list of injuries, and rumors of resentment for Sosa's clubhouse persona. As the season turned really sour for Slammin' Sammy in August, with the onset of the worst slump of his career, it become standard practice throughout the city- and nationwide sports media to blame Sosa for the collapse of the 2004 Cubs.

In fact, 2004 was a failure because their twin aces combined to make just 43 starts, the bullpen regressed predictably toward its rather horrendous mean, and a team that hit over 200 homers failed to ever figure out the mystery of plate discipline. Chemistry may have exacerbated these issues, but it certainly didn't create them.

Bradley's Cubs, too, have a long list of real reasons for their decline. Offseason ownership uncertainty forced Hendry to compromise more offense than he might have liked to, and certainly prevented him from adequately preparing the bullpen to succeed. Add an injury to key cog Aramis Ramirez, and to each of the top four starting pitchers over the course of the year, and you have a recipe for a step backward.

Bradley, like Sosa, has struggled at times this year. Yet, he leads Chicago in on-base percentage, has surged in the power department, and has actually been a relatively pleasant surprise defensively in right field. He has contributed more positively to this team than Alfonso Soriano, Geovany Soto, or Ryan Theriot.

Yet, like Sosa, Bradley has been placed firmly on the hot seat by the media. After Lou Piniella sent Bradley home from a game in June against the crosstown Sox, the critics came out of the woodwork. And they have not relented yet. One would be forgiven, in light of the coverage that event has received, for thinking that Bradley (like Sosa on the last day of 2004) had abandoned the team voluntarily.

In August, Bradley began to be questioned more aggressively about his relationship with fans, many of whom had taken to booing him. Bradley responded with what I believe is very likely the truth, that he faces "hatred" at the park each day, and was subsequently vilified as a paranoid malcontent.

I don't know about the Chicago journalists covering that story, all of whom summarily dismissed Bradley's claims, but I have been in the stands at Wrigley Field, and it does happen. Angry fans call players on both sides racially-charged names: I once heard a Braves fan near me call Gary Sheffield the infamous n-word after Sheffield struck out in a bases-loaded situation. It's highly possible Bradley has faced a similar degree of prejudice.

Whether he has or not, though, the larger issue remains: Bradley is simply not responsible for the Cubs' disappointing 2009, and the implications (sometimes more) levied by the media that he is are unfair.