White Sox Have Too Many Holes

CHICAGO — I suspect gamblers.

Sorry, only kidding. But once again the men of Chicago who dress in the white sox must change into funeral black, having mastered the art of losing ugly. Sloppy baserunning, oafish fielding and Gene Lamont’s landslide victory in the vote for Least Valuable Manager have all contributed to Chicago’s latest downfall, as did every designated hitter Lamont designated, none of whom deserved to have been chosen ahead of Minnie Minoso.

Not much good to say today about any Sox, excluding the White House cat.

They batted .237 as a team to Toronto’s .301 and spent most of a six-game series watching Blue Jay pitchers pitch around Frank Thomas, the only Chicago hitter who doesn’t seem to slap at the ball. Thomas drew so many bases on balls (10) that the Comiskey Park groundkeepers should have installed a “Walk/Don’t Walk” stoplight just beyond first base.

As for those designated hitters--uh, batters--who followed Thomas to the plate and wore out a footpath between the batter’s box and the dugout, their only positive contribution to 54 innings of baseball was a home run by Warren Newson in the ninth inning Tuesday night, exactly when the Sox needed it least.

Bo Jackson, benched and no more than a non-paying customer as the White Sox waved the white flag of surrender, summed up a sad situation to a reporter later by saying: “As far as I’m concerned, that DH spot could be yours. I would rather wait for the lottery to get up to $80 million and win that. Then you wouldn’t ever hear of Bo Jackson again.”

An Illinois lottery jackpot would be about all Bo Jackson could hit this October. Yet he was no worse than any number of others in these American League playoffs, including second baseman Joey Cora, with his three for three in throwing errors in three home games, and catcher Ron Karkovice, who went 0 for 15 with seven strikeouts and also pinch-ran the White Sox right out of a nice little rally.

Game 6 was not as kind to this Sox catcher as it was 18 years ago to a catcher from another Sox branch by the name of Carlton Fisk. We gladly would have watched Karkovice frantically waving a ball to stay fair, a la Pudge, had he ever managed to hit at least one loud foul.

A baseball that did curve foul, the final, fatal bullet of this Columbus Day Massacre, was the one duck-hooked by Sox third sacker Robin Ventura in the eighth inning.

Toronto pitcher Dave Stewart, getting by, as always, on a strong arm and a lot of heart, served one up with Thomas on first base that Ventura sent whistling over the base runner’s head. The ball had to have been 50 to 75 feet fair when it passed beyond the infield dirt, only to veer wildly and fall foul, around a yardstick’s length wide of the right-field line.

“That could have been the ball game right there,” Ventura said.

Could have been, because at that point Chicago was behind by only a run and there was every chance that Thomas would have legged his way home all the way from first. Instead, Stewart agreeably gave up the ball to his manager, Cito Gaston, and disappeared into the dugout to spin his cap backward and observe Duane Ward’s skillful fanning of Ventura.

At least Thomas didn’t stray from the base on an easy liner that was easily caught. This is precisely what Karkovice had done an inning earlier, when Lamont made the crackpot decision to pinch-run one catcher for another, even though he had no third catcher available in case Karkovice twisted an ankle or stubbed a toe.

Heaven forbid the manager should use someone spry and lively of step such as, oh, Steve Sax, who sat motionlessly for the sixth consecutive game and had to watch a chunky catcher, Karkovice, be sent out to run for a chunky catcher, Mike LaValliere. From second base, Karkovice went dashing toward third on a lazy line drive by Tim Raines that Toronto second baseman Robbie Alomar could have caught in his sleep.

This was just one of many amazing moves made by Lamont in this series, which ended with White Sox fans flinging their souvenir white stockings onto the field, no longer having anything whatsoever out there to support.