As the film reel of the Phillies’ preseason runs out of footage and clatters to wards its ghastly end, we’re left with a question: Who was the protagonist, again?
Yesterday, I pinned Jimmy Rollins as the buxom blonde of horror film lore, watching as all the friends and acquaintances and fringe characters around her were systematically killed off one by one. But as things heat up Jimmy, they’re getting even hotter for young Freddy Galvis, whose name appeared in more internet headlines yesterday than Chase Utley. Which is of course sort of like having your name screamed by the most homeless men, but still. Exposure.
So, is 22-year-old Freddy the captain of the sequel? Is J-Roll now the grizzled veteran whose “seen things” and appears in a cameo to offer a paltry, cryptic bit of advice before disappearing into the night or getting dragged away by the killer or (gasp!) being revealed as the killer himself?!
There are important matters to discuss before anyone starts talking about the middle infielder of the future. First, how can we be so sure Ruben Amaro won’t trade him tomorrow for Scott Linebrink? Sure, he’s one of our best prospects and he plays a position we need filled at the moment and he’s coming off one of his best season yet and was given the Paul Owens Award in 2011 for best position player in the farm system.
But if this team needs two things, it’s pitching, and veteran leadership. So you can bet Rube is checking the market for below average, out of shape middle relievers to swap out for our scampering minor league glovesmith.
Secondly, if this is going to work, Freddy’s going to need one hell of a fan section. Do we keep up with the horror movie theme and capitalize on his first name being Freddy? Do we stick with the last name and use something like “Galvinization?”
galvanization: to startle into sudden activity; stimulate.
That kind of actually works, except for that it’s terrible. Anyways, we’ll run this all by Freddy next week at the press conference we called to let him know that we’ll be watching and judging him via sports talk radio for the next nine months.
There is a slight spark of enthusiasm to see a young face out there, starting. It sucks that he is in place of our handsomest second baseman, and that the whole thing is one big awful reminder that our core will slowly begin to peel away in the coming years, familiar faces will become strangers, and life is fleeting and we’re all going to die. But still; to have a skilled rookie out there, fighting to contribute, and with the future only ahead of him is a concept we have had less and less of. So there’s some excitement to that.
But then, this is Philadelphia sports, so that brief twinge of happiness is then completely overwhelmed by complete and utter sarcastic depression, mostly because our players keep exploding.