Yuni accepting a standing ovation for a base on balls.
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Yuni is a Cuban defector, and he came up with the Seattle Mariners. While in Seattle, he demonstrated beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was ill qualified to play baseball on virtually any level, so last year the Kansas City Royals traded a young but somewhat troubled pitching prospect named Daniel Cortez for the privilege to pay the remainder of Betancourt’s major league contract. Cortez is now a major league pitcher for the Mariners, Betancourt is still not a major league player for the Royals.
Some poor SOB in Seattle chronicled Yuni’s time in Seattle with this wonderful blog. It’s a fascinating glimpse of what a player like Betancourt can do to the morale of a fan, of a team, and of a community. I’m thinking of picking this thing up where it was dropped, although I’m pretty sure I’d be unable to do the previous work anything short of an injustice.
When the season started, I went to opening day with a couple of friends and my brother. Spring is supposed to be a time of hope for a baseball fan, but I was just consumed with dread this year. The roster was horseshit on a good day. By my count, they had about 2 ½ major leaguers on the team at the start of the year, and they remain there today. They are miserable to follow, and they suck the life out of anyone who pays any attention whatsoever to what they actually do on the field. They can neither score runs nor prevent the other team from scoring. Their fielding is legendarily poor. But…they are my team…pathetic.
So we were in the truck heading to the game, and we decided to guess how many games the Royals would win from their 162 game schedule. Travis picked 68 victories. I chose 39. If they were to accomplish that feat, it would go down as the worst major league season by any team since 1900. I was confident they could perform the task, so we wagered $20 to whomever was closer between our numbers. The break-even point was what—53 ½ wins, and the Royals surpassed that mark late last month.
Travis called me the other night, and we inevitably started talking about our pathetic shortstop. I think he threw the ball in to the second row on a rather routine play, and he somehow avoided the error. The official scorer in Kansas City is most certainly a Yuni apologist. Even with scoring gaffes like the one Thursday night, Yuni is to my knowledge the only active major leaguer with more errors in the field than bases on balls drawn at the plate.
This is almost impossible to do for any period of time, for reasons too numerous to mention here. To put it mildly, anyone who is that shitty for any period of time is generally quickly out of a job. Unless they are KC Royals. Then, they are celebrated for their “potential.”
Potential is a pile of shit that has yet to be accomplished by an individual. That’s it. I don’t want to hear about my potential, your potential, and most certainly, Yuniesky Betancourt’s potential. It’s just a watchword for fucking apologists of mediocrity.
But…I realize that Yuni has the potential to make me some money. So I bet my brother the $20 I currently owe him that Yuni will not draw a 3 ball-0 strike count the rest of the year. I removed the possibility of an intentional walk from our bet, and I am quite confident that Yuni will come through for me. There is, I suppose, the outside possibility that Yuni could fall asleep at the plate, or forget who he is or what he’s doing there at any given point, but he’s only got a couple of weeks to go.
Since we made this bet, Yuni has exactly as many errors as two-ball counts. This, to me, is astounding. All Betancourt has to do for the rest of the year is stand like a statue at the plate—the ultimate act of omission, but he is ill-equipped for this endeavor. Any ball near the plate (and even many that are not) will be swung at by Yuni. He has three grand slams this year, which I attribute to the fact that these are situations where the pitcher is forced to throw Betancourt balls which he would not normally be forced to throw. In a normal situation, there is absolutely no need to throw Yuni a strike.
Earlier this year, I was at a game at Kauffman Stadium, and Yuni worked a 2-0 count with the bases loaded. I tried to bet $20 to anyone around me that Yuni would indeed swing at the next pitch, regardless of its location. No one took the bet, and Yuni predictably launched the ball into the bullpen for one of his grand slams. I’ll be mad as hell if Yuni costs me $40 this fall. I think I’ll even write him a letter deriding his plate discipline if he fails me now.
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