Mark Buehrle doesn't feel like a particularly appropriate recipient of the White Sox statue treatment coming this summer, even by Jerry Reinsdorf's extremely generous standards.
It's not that Buehrle isn't deserving according to the precedents. As a sure-fire Hall of Very Good player who might be able to wend a circuitous route to Cooperstown if workhorses gain appreciation over time, he fits right into the range of players who receive this very specific kind of immortality on the Rate Field concourse:
- Frank Thomas: Elected in first year on ballot.
- Carlton Fisk: Elected in second year on ballot.
- Luis Aparicio: Elected in sixth year ballot.
- Nellie Fox: Elected through Veterans Committee on first attempt after finishing with 74.7 percent of the vote on final BBWAA ballot.
- Minnie Miñoso: Elected through Veterans Committee on sixth attempt after peaking at 21.1 percent over 15 years of BBWAA voting.
- Harold Baines: Fell off the ballot on sixth year of eligibility; gained election on second attempt in Veterans Committee
- Billy Pierce: Peaked at 1.9 percent on five years of BBWAA voting; unsuccessful on two Veterans Committe ballots.
- Paul Konerko: Received 2.5 percent of the vote on only year on BBWAA ballot.
He's already ahead of Baines, Pierce and Konerko in terms of BBWAA support thus far, and if his support doubles next year -- within the realm of possibility given the weak ballot -- he'll slide ahead of Miñoso to become the median honoree by this metric. The level of accomplishment is not the issue here.
No, it's odd to think of Buehrle in statue form because a statue stands still, and Buehrle never did. He made his name with constant motion. He didn't have the gaudiest numbers in any given season, but he was baseball's fastest worker over the period of time where the game ground to a halt, which made him a folk hero to baseball fans who treasured the pace from decades past, and to writers and broadcasters who just wanted to go home earlier.
Said writers and broadcasters often borrowed Vin Scully's description of Bob Gibson -- he pitched like he was double-parked -- but watching Buehrle lull Seattle hitters into a 99-minute complete game in 2005, it's more accurate to say that he pitched like you were double-parked. Nothing about his body language exuded urgency, frenzy or panic. He'd do what he could to get you out of there, but poor planning on your part didn't constitute an emergency on his. Besides, given the truck Buehrle drove during his time with the White Sox, "double-parked" was just "parked."
The unassuming way Buehrle recorded outs -- and the many, many, many boring outs he recorded -- provided the plain, gigantic canvas against which 10 careers' worth of defining highlights stand out. That makes it a little bit of a shame that, if the White Sox's teaser video is any indication, Buehrle's statue will be a fairly rote representation of his delivery.
https://twitter.com/whitesox/status/1882951958803124438?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw
However, if the statue is not yet set in stone -- or bronze, as it were -- allow me to offer six different alternative visual interpretations that better capture the essence of Buehrle's White Sox career.
Sitting on the bench
Miles Davis said about jazz, "It's not the notes you play. It's the notes you don't play." When Mark Buehrle was at his best, you barely saw him out there. This is, of course, why everybody calls Mark Buehrle "Baseball's Miles Davis." We all know this, and I apologize for mansplaining.
99-minute clock
They say the internet is forever, and yet I can't find the photo of Buehrle holding a clock showing 1:39 to very literally commemorate that April duel with Ryan Franklin. I didn't "Shazaam" this, did I?
The flip
Had Reinsdorf not rushed to commemorate Paul Konerko's statue, they could've landed on the concourse as a package deal. The Aparicio and Fox sculptures show the shortstop awaiting the flip from the second baseman in anticipation of turning a double play, so that's the template for a scene in which Konerko is reaching out with his bare hand to await a baseball coming from a most improbable angle.
The only complication is that the ball can't be suspended in midair, which means an action shot for one is awkward for the other. At the last point Buehrle's touching the ball, Konerko's more or less standing there. At the point Konerko has the ball, Buehrle's in a pose he probably doesn't want to recreate for a sculptor.
Besides, if Buehrle is going to be molded in a recumbent position, you best believe he'd be captured in the middle of a...
Tarp slide
Embed from Getty ImagesImagine Bronze Buehrle cruising down one of the water features on the former Goose Island. The downside is that fans would use him as a tabletop, but the Sox said "Beer on Buehrle," did they not?
Home run
Put this sculpture right next to the Baines one and let future generations guess which one went into the Hall as a hitter.
Perfect game reaction
Going back to Konerko, his statue doesn't show him manning first base, but it also doesn't show him at the plate either. It shows him approaching first base with his fist raised in triumph after his grand slam in Game 2 of the World Series, and it's the second-best choice the White Sox could've made*.
(*No. 1, of course, is his pirouette after Kevin Jepsen's wild pitch on an attempted intentional walk.)
Given that Konerko was frozen in time the moment after his moment, it'd be no insult if the White Sox chose Buehrle's unbelieving reaction to the final out of his perfect game in 2009. In a career characterized by continuous movement, it captures one of the few instances where time stood still.
