As if you could ever actually have one
In theory, in any business transaction, each participant should have a plan of how to benefit.
That is, unless the White Sox are involved.
Of course, what “benefit” means can be in the eye of the beholder. For us fans, the idea would be to form a better team that wins baseball games. By contrast, for the only person who matters where the White Sox are concerned — the owner — “benefit” just means more money stuffed in his pockets, less taxes paid (if any), and the most public funds he can grab while sticking up a middle finger to the people of Chicago and environs.
The difference in goals is important to recognize. Still, most good businesspersons realize that it’s often a good idea to spend money to make more money, not just hoard. But that’s good businesspersons, not 88-year-olds who just want to get to wallow in huge piles of cash like Scrooge McDuck until they die.
Nonetheless, allow us to look at the idea of planning from the aspect of winning baseball games, because, what the heck, we’re fans.
General goals in player acquisition, especially via trades
There are many kinds of trades. Perhaps the most common is seeking a current win-win, where a team with extra outfielders and an infielder shortage swaps with a team with the reverse situation. The benefits to both are easy to understand and apt to work out unless one player involved turns out to be a dud.
Then there’s the straight salary dump, where a team willing to spend money picks up the tab for a good player on a team that’s cutting payroll and sends along some scrubs or minor leaguers. Not necessarily pretty from the point of view of fans of the selling team, but a visible boon to the Scrooge McDucks.
There’s trading players who might benefit from a change of venue, or who are clubhouse cancers that need to be sent to a new clubhouse.
And, in the Era of the Tank, there’s a White Sox specialty, sending away veterans for prospects, with one side in “win-now” mode and the other side in “yeah, maybe, possibly, if the moon is just right, we’ll win some time in the future” mode.
A little recent history
The Great White Sox Rebuild (beta) in the mid-’10s was presumably of the tank-to-win-later-variety of trading. Presumably. But it was still confusing.
It all began, of course, on Dec. 6, 2016, when the White Sox sent superstar Chris Sale to the Red Sox for, among others, MIchael Kopech and Yoán Moncada. Seems like a plan, right? Our team sucks, we get some good youngsters for the future. And the guy with the knife is your problem.
Of course, it would have seemed like more of a plan if the Sox hadn’t just six months earlier sent Fernando Tatís Jr. to the Padres for James Shields, which sent the exact opposite message. But what the heck, a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds and all that.
(We won’t even go into two years earlier sending Chris Bassitt and Marcus Semien to the A’s for Jeff Samardzija, which was apparently only done to give people who write about the team spell-check fits.)
What was the goal for each side in the Sale trade? For the Red Sox, to win another World Series. Sure enough, they did so in 2018, with Sale’s help. Mission accomplished. For the White Sox, to bolster a glorious future, “after the parade” and all that. Mission failure — only two winning seasons since, and both of those mainly due to incredibly easy schedules.
The next day after the Sale trade, another Sox dropped — Adam Eaton to the Nationals for Dane Dunning, Lucas Giolito, and Reynaldo López. Washington’s goal? Having at least a chance at a World Series ring — mission accomplished, and more in 2019. White Sox goal? See above, while trying to avoid a sardonic laugh.
Come July 2017, off went Jose Quintana across town, for, among others, Eloy Jiménez and Dylan Cease. This ex-Sox only helped the other side to the NLCS, but, of course, the total failure continued on the White Sox side.
So, rebuild plan went awry. Crash and burn, etc. But at least there was an effort of sorts, up until the time came to spend money on stars to supplement the roster of youngsters (see Scrooge, above). Or at least until McDuck kicked out a manager doing a pretty good job in Ricky Renteria (or as good a job as could be done while stuck with has-been Don Cooper and his speed dial to said Duck as pitching coach) so a waaaaay over-the-hill boozehound buddy could be put in charge.
So, what’s the plan now?
Who knows? Certainly not anybody in the White Sox organization, except the cash-diving Uncle Scrooge.
The sell-off at mid-2023 sent the clear message that 2024 would be a horror story, since sending off half your pitching staff, some with control remaining, is not the action of a team planning to win anything. The trade of Cease, who was under team control through 2025, showed there is really no intention to be anything but terrible next year, either, no matter how much they lie about that.
As for offseason trades, the first biggie was the November swap of Aaron Bummer to the Braves for a basketball team. Bummer has been horrible, but the Braves main goal was clearing out the chaff from their 40-man roster, which they accomplished. In getting three pitchers back, the Sox made up at least in numbers, if not in skill, for some of their trade deadline losses. And they also picked up two infielders to ostensibly fulfill Getz’s goal of better defense. In true White Sox fashion, the improved defense has been a total bust idea.
Then there was the Cease trade, again bringing back a bunch of bodies, mostly pitchers, including two possible starters of the future.
That seems to make sense, right? Except …
Except, if you’re going for a youth movement, fine — but why then sign relievers like John Brebbia (33), Tim Hill (34), and Dominic Leone (32). Why on earth sign 37-year-old Martín Maldonado, who’s not even good defensively any longer, and 33-year old Max Stassi as your catchers (as coaches, sure — players, fuggedaboutit). Why is playing time going to outfielders Robbie Grossman (34), Kevin Pillar (35) and, soon, Tommy Pham (36).
Sure, the team may be a little better with those guys than the young alternatives, but have you checked the record lately? Horrible is horrible is horrible. How horrible doesn’t matter.
(On another sort of horrible, there was absolutely no reason to sign the ***hole we won’t even name or Brad Keller, also not exactly popular here, except to give a giant F*** You to large segments of the fan base. We get the message, Mr. McDuck, sir, you don’t have to send it any more.)
So, what is the goal?
For Uncle Scrooge: money, money, money. For the whole front office and the manager? Keeping lips firmly affixed to Scrooge’s tail feathers.
For fans: Who knows? Maybe trying to figure out why we’re still here?