I have this weird affinity for players who are pretty good, but–in the grand scheme of baseball history–far from great. A few examples: My favorite player growing up was Jeromy Burnitz. As a kid, I’d pelt tennis balls at my mom’s aluminum garage door while emulating the likes of Cal Eldred. Even now, my favorite pitcher on the stocked Milwaukee pitching staff is none other than Shaun Marcum. I’m weird.
Probably due to a baseball lifetime spent making the most of what my small market team could cobble together with sofa change, I’ve developed a true respect for serviceable athletes who managed quality careers… but who won’t go down beside the all-time greats.
Wednesday, as Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven...
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