Meet the Sox

Carl Everett

The goal of this section is to remember those World Champion White Sox who have moved on to different teams fondly.  At the same time, it’s hard to maintain a fondness for Carl Everett, which is why I had forgotten all about him until a reader reminded me that I hadn’t written his eulogy yet.  

I guess what I can say about Carl is that I never could really root for him; I suppose I more or less just really, really, really hoped he wouldn’t embarrass the team.  After all, Kenny Williams gave up a half-dozen prospects or so to acquire him twice, so the team had invested a lot in him.  Not humiliating his employers would be the least he could offer.

And in his defense, Carl did a pretty good job of that.  He didn’t rob anybody of the Carl Everett Experience – he was still all too willing to talk about his unwavering belief that dinosaurs never existed, or his doubting that man ever landed on the moon, or that he didn’t approve of homosexuals – but there was so much more damage he could’ve done.  After all, with a history that included a child abuse case (it was his wife doing the disciplining) and clubhouse blowups, he was capable of grabbing more headlines.  

Not to mention that it was always fun playing off his quirks, whether it was calling him “Jurassic,” or “that (expletive) dinosaur denier,” as my friend Vince from Exile at Wrigleyville would say.

At the same time, Carl played hard and did what the organization asked him to do – sometimes grudgingly (like dropping down a few spots in the batting order when he couldn’t muster any power in the second half), but he did it just the same.  Acquired to be primarily a DH, he played a decent outfield when called upon and gave the roster some flexibility.  In the playoffs, he batted .300 – a light .300, considering all his hits were singles, but .300 nevertheless.  

He disappointed us often enough at the plate, but since he tried his best, he deserved our support.  At the same time, I could never pull for him.  At first it was because he blocked the progress of Aaron Rowand, my favorite minor-leaguer at the time, costing him half a season of big-league experience.  

But after Frank Thomas and Magglio Ordonez went down and Carl had a spot on the team that didn’t rob any other deserving candidates of playing time, I still couldn’t root for him.

Ultimately, that was because he was a mercenary.  Not just a mercenary personnel-wise, but he felt like one, too.  The Sox didn’t have long-term plans involving him, and Carl never went out of his way to please anybody but himself.  It was a relationship that was at arm’s length – Carl was judged solely on production because we had no other reason to want him to stay.  

Part of that’s the nature of the business in which the fans could be more welcoming but aren’t, but it’s also because Carl was always bristling.  Bristling at ex-teammates and managers who badmouthed him, bristling at reporters who he felt didn’t give him a fair shake, bristling at anybody who underestimated him.

This was evident on the White Sox World Series DVD, in which Carl was conspicuously absent until they showed the post-clinch celebration.  While others were basking in the glory of winning the first championship in the last 88 years of franchise history, Carl was telling the cameras where everybody who doubted them could stick it.

Then, after the Sox decided to pass on Carl’s services this season, he was back to bristling in Seattle, saying the Sox were cold in how they dealt with him, how they’ve lost too much veteran leadership to win, how the Mariners have a better offense than the Sox have.  

We all know any relationship with Carl Everett is a tenuous one, and as far as they go, the one the Sox had with him went pretty smoothly.  He carried the team at times with his bat, and the Sox carried him at others.  He had his ups and downs, but they all occurred between the chalk lines, not in the clubhouse or legal system.

Yes, he’s not a guy you want to root for, but he kept his nose clean, played hard, and, at times, played well.  For that, we should be thankful.  And for a hired gun, a moderate level of graciousness would be fair pay.