Tuesday, May 31, 2011

The Mexicutioner is Dead

Everybody’s got a take on the decline of Joakim Soria right now.  There is no shortage of REAL experts who would be able to break down all the problems with his mechanics, or to talk about possible injury concerns or how he’s tipping his pitches or anything like that.  There is any number of measurable reasons that goes into a guy who’s already given up 16 earned runs in just 22 innings—his second-highest number for any season, behind only the 19 he gave up in 69 innings as a rookie.  But I’m not qualified to point out any of those measurable things.  I’m good only for wild speculation.  So here goes….

The Joakim Soria we knew over the previous four years died this past off season.  That guy was the Mexicutioner.  This guy is just Jack.

If you’ll recall, sometime in the past six months or so, Soria cited the ongoing violence surrounding Mexican crime cartels, and asked that the public stop referring to him by his outstanding nickname, the “Mexicutioner.”  He wanted to be an instrument of peace and tranquility who could help his fellow countryman get their minds off of their real problems for a short time every day.

You can see the trouble starting right there. 

A closer has to have an edge, a little nastiness, a little bit of a “what the eff are you looking at?” attitude.  He’s OK with grazing the bill of your helmet to make you understand that the strike zone belongs to HIM, and you simply don’t deserve a pitch you want.  He hates the batter in front of him almost as much as he hates the thought of blowing a hard-fought win for somebody that threw a gem in the innings that preceded his work.

The Mexicutioner was the perfect moniker for the closer.  First off, it made reference to his Mexican heritage.  If you know anything about boxing, the very word “Mexican” is synonymous with “tough,” “gritty,” “in your face,” and “fierce.”  Combine that with imagery of the cold, hardened, hooded executioner of the medieval times, ready to send you off to your final doom.  It was PERFECT.

Now, he’s just Jack.

Don’t get me wrong.  There’s been some pretty scary Jack’s throughout history.  Jack Johnson, Jack the Ripper, etc.  But for the most part, “Jack” doesn’t evoke much fear in the hearts of anybody. 

Jack is a golfer you call “The Golden Bear.”  Jack lives with a couple of girls and spends half his time convincing Don Knotts that he’s g@y.  Jack often precedes “squat” and finishes the line “you don’t know….”

Would the Mexicutioner ever trot, tail between legs, into his manager’s office and request to be relieved of his closer duties because he just can’t handle the pressure anymore?  Nope…..but Jack did.

It’s become frighteningly clear to me that the transformation from the “Mexicutioner” to “Jack” was more than just a nickname change.  It was all about what’s IN a name.  This is a kinder, gentler Joakim Soria.  He’s not a guy we want or need on this team.

If he doesn’t find a little Mexicutioner in his heart somewhere soon, we’ll have no choice but to look up off-season articles about how we could have had Jesus Montero behind the plate right now, had we been willing to part with Jack’s services.

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