tk13
08-13-2003, 01:22 AM
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/6519012.htm
Baird has tough time cutting class act Febles
By JOE POSNANSKI
Columnist
Allard Baird does not get emotional. It's his philosophy. He will say: You can't get emotional as a general manager. Baird fired Tony Muser, whom he loved, without batting an eye. He traded Johnny Damon, whom he personally scouted and signed out of high school, without thinking twice.
But tears welled in Allard Baird's eyes on Tuesday.
He said goodbye to Carlos Febles.
"Business is business," Baird said. His tears told a different story. Carlos Febles is hitting .235 this year. He doesn't run like he once did. He doesn't even play the beautiful second base he has played since he was a young man in the Dominican Republic. Baird had known for some time that he would have to do something with Carlos Febles.
That didn't make it any easier.
"In this day and age where people pass the blame and don't take the fault for anything," Baird said, "Carlos always held himself accountable. To me, Carlos was a man. He is a man."
Carlos Febles came along in 1999, and he was like a jolt of life for a dying team. The Royals still did not have an owner. They had no direction. They had been a team of cranky veterans -- Jeff King, Dean Palmer, Jose Offerman, Hal Morris. Kansas City didn't like that team much. And they also lost a bunch of games.
So, the Royals decided to start over with a bunch of kids. And Carlos Febles was the most electric of the bunch. He jumped. He danced. He clapped. He sang. You know how you have that one friend who always makes a night out more fun? That was Febles. He made games fun.
"He played the game," Baird said. "We don't use the word play enough in baseball."
He played as hard as anyone you ever saw. That came from childhood. He lived the typical Dominican life. He used a cut-up milk carton as a glove. He wrapped tape around rocks and used those for baseballs. He signed with the Kansas City Royals when he was 17 years old. He quickly learned how to speak English because he knew he would need it in the major leagues.
"I just knew," he would say when asked about playing in the major leagues. It meant everything to him. He dived after every ground ball. He rushed to back up bases. He stood in there for the double play longer than anybody in the game, like a quarterback who stands in there against the blitz.
He scored 71 runs his rookie year. He hit 10 home runs. He stole 20 bases. And he played a fabulous second base. The whole team rallied around him. There were plenty of people who thought he would be the better Carlos -- Carlos Beltran came up that year, too.
But the pounding took its toll. Febles dislocated his pinkie diving into first base. He hurt his shoulder diving for a ball. He ripped a ligament in his knee after a collision with a right fielder.
And his skills diminished. Maybe it was the injuries. Maybe, as baseball people sometimes say, he just had an old body. Scouts noticed that his bat suddenly looked a little slower. They clocked him to first and looked at the watch for a long time -- he was no longer an above-average runner. He seemed to lose a step of range at second base just about every day.
He still played just as hard, still brought just as much enthusiasm to his game. He drove two hours every single day during the off-season to work with a trainer. This year, he hurt his hand trying to bunt. He refused to come out of the lineup. He went one for 17 with his injured hand, and his batting average tumbled 37 points before coaches finally made him go on the disabled list.
When Febles came off the disabled list, he looked another five years older.
It became more and more clear that Febles, who is 27, did not have a role on this team. Thursday, with the Royals leading Tampa 2-0 in the ninth, there was a sure double-play grounder hit to Febles. He charged it. He tried to short-hop it, but the ball skipped off his glove. He tried to push it to shortstop Angel Berroa, but it was too late. The Royals lost.
It was only one error. But for many, it signified the end.
Tuesday, Baird told Febles that he was designated for assignment. That leaves several possibilities -- it's even possible Febles could clear waivers and play in the Royals' minor-league system. But it's pretty clear he won't be back on the Royals this year. And it's pretty clear he might never be back.
Everybody understood the deal on Tuesday.
"I saw him play when he was 17 years old," Baird said, and then, for the first time as a general manager, he got emotional.
"Carlos Febles is everything that baseball should be about," Baird said. He stopped for a second. He caught his breath. "But you have to do what's right for the team. It's not easy. But that's baseball."
"What did Febles say when you told him?" he was asked.
And that's when the tears appeared in Baird's eyes.
"Carlos said he wasn't doing the job," Baird said. "He looked me right in the eyes and said he would have done the same thing."
Baird has tough time cutting class act Febles
By JOE POSNANSKI
Columnist
Allard Baird does not get emotional. It's his philosophy. He will say: You can't get emotional as a general manager. Baird fired Tony Muser, whom he loved, without batting an eye. He traded Johnny Damon, whom he personally scouted and signed out of high school, without thinking twice.
But tears welled in Allard Baird's eyes on Tuesday.
He said goodbye to Carlos Febles.
"Business is business," Baird said. His tears told a different story. Carlos Febles is hitting .235 this year. He doesn't run like he once did. He doesn't even play the beautiful second base he has played since he was a young man in the Dominican Republic. Baird had known for some time that he would have to do something with Carlos Febles.
That didn't make it any easier.
"In this day and age where people pass the blame and don't take the fault for anything," Baird said, "Carlos always held himself accountable. To me, Carlos was a man. He is a man."
Carlos Febles came along in 1999, and he was like a jolt of life for a dying team. The Royals still did not have an owner. They had no direction. They had been a team of cranky veterans -- Jeff King, Dean Palmer, Jose Offerman, Hal Morris. Kansas City didn't like that team much. And they also lost a bunch of games.
So, the Royals decided to start over with a bunch of kids. And Carlos Febles was the most electric of the bunch. He jumped. He danced. He clapped. He sang. You know how you have that one friend who always makes a night out more fun? That was Febles. He made games fun.
"He played the game," Baird said. "We don't use the word play enough in baseball."
He played as hard as anyone you ever saw. That came from childhood. He lived the typical Dominican life. He used a cut-up milk carton as a glove. He wrapped tape around rocks and used those for baseballs. He signed with the Kansas City Royals when he was 17 years old. He quickly learned how to speak English because he knew he would need it in the major leagues.
"I just knew," he would say when asked about playing in the major leagues. It meant everything to him. He dived after every ground ball. He rushed to back up bases. He stood in there for the double play longer than anybody in the game, like a quarterback who stands in there against the blitz.
He scored 71 runs his rookie year. He hit 10 home runs. He stole 20 bases. And he played a fabulous second base. The whole team rallied around him. There were plenty of people who thought he would be the better Carlos -- Carlos Beltran came up that year, too.
But the pounding took its toll. Febles dislocated his pinkie diving into first base. He hurt his shoulder diving for a ball. He ripped a ligament in his knee after a collision with a right fielder.
And his skills diminished. Maybe it was the injuries. Maybe, as baseball people sometimes say, he just had an old body. Scouts noticed that his bat suddenly looked a little slower. They clocked him to first and looked at the watch for a long time -- he was no longer an above-average runner. He seemed to lose a step of range at second base just about every day.
He still played just as hard, still brought just as much enthusiasm to his game. He drove two hours every single day during the off-season to work with a trainer. This year, he hurt his hand trying to bunt. He refused to come out of the lineup. He went one for 17 with his injured hand, and his batting average tumbled 37 points before coaches finally made him go on the disabled list.
When Febles came off the disabled list, he looked another five years older.
It became more and more clear that Febles, who is 27, did not have a role on this team. Thursday, with the Royals leading Tampa 2-0 in the ninth, there was a sure double-play grounder hit to Febles. He charged it. He tried to short-hop it, but the ball skipped off his glove. He tried to push it to shortstop Angel Berroa, but it was too late. The Royals lost.
It was only one error. But for many, it signified the end.
Tuesday, Baird told Febles that he was designated for assignment. That leaves several possibilities -- it's even possible Febles could clear waivers and play in the Royals' minor-league system. But it's pretty clear he won't be back on the Royals this year. And it's pretty clear he might never be back.
Everybody understood the deal on Tuesday.
"I saw him play when he was 17 years old," Baird said, and then, for the first time as a general manager, he got emotional.
"Carlos Febles is everything that baseball should be about," Baird said. He stopped for a second. He caught his breath. "But you have to do what's right for the team. It's not easy. But that's baseball."
"What did Febles say when you told him?" he was asked.
And that's when the tears appeared in Baird's eyes.
"Carlos said he wasn't doing the job," Baird said. "He looked me right in the eyes and said he would have done the same thing."