Memo To Dodgers: Dump Yu Darvish

 






I wanted to wait a week or so before making this comment to see if I'd cool down. Well, I haven't. What I'm about to say isn't rational. It's mean. It's nasty. It's petty. But it's gut-level. I apologize before even saying it. Here goes:

I hate him. I hate Los Angeles Dodger pitcher Yu Darvish.

I'll never forgive the right-hander for blowing Game 7 of the World Series, at home no less, to the Houston Astros. The city has waited 29 years for another World Series title. Thanks to Damned Darvish, the wait will be even longer

Next spring, when the Dodgers begin their quest for a title, I don't want to see Darvish in a Dodger uniform. In that 5-1, Game 7 loss to the Astros, he surrendered his right to wear a Dodger uniform again. In that critical game, with the weight of the team on his shoulders, he collapsed, he choked.

When the Dodgers picked up Darvish from the Texas Rangers in August he was supposed to be the backup ace to Clayton Kershaw, the gritty, dominant Number Two Pitcher who, everyone figured, just about guaranteed the baseball title was coming to LA.

But I always had doubts about Darvish. Sure he's a four-time All-Star who averages eleven strikeouts per nine innings. But too often he was wild. Even when he won, many times it wasn't pretty. He always seemed to be a borderline ace, the kind that needed a lot of run support, the kind of pitcher you might not be able to count on in the clutch. He didn't dazzle in any of his starts leading up to the World Series, There was no string of games where he gave up just a run or two and only a few hits and looked like he was in total command.

Game 3 of the Series was a red flag. Darvish looked like a batting practice pitcher, getting pounded for four runs in 1 2/3 innings. Great players bring their A game to championship games. Darvish showed up with his D game, triggering a Dodger loss.

Dodger manager Dave Roberts ignored all the Game 3 signs that Darvish didn't have the stuff to baffle Astro hitters and decided to start him in Game 7, the team's biggest game in decades. Roberts will never admit he regrets that decision but you know damn well he does.

In Game 7, Darvish choked again, looking as pitiful as he did in Game 3. He lasted just as long, a meager 1 2/3 innings, giving up five runs, four earned. Kershaw relieved him and mowed down Astro hitters in the middle of the game. Clearly he should have started, not Darvish. That blunder will certainly haunt Roberts.

Even writing about that Series dredges up those post-Series feelings of misery. No question that pain would resurface every time I'd see Darvish in a Dodger uniform. So I don't want to see him in a Dodger uniform again.

This brings to mind something that happened to the Dodgers on the last day of the 1951 season, when they were in Brooklyn, tied with the New York Giants, playing a game to see who would advance to the World Series. Giant slugger Bobby Thompson hit a three-run, walk-off homer to win the game. Dodger pitcher Ralph Branca served up the crucial pitch.

Some bitter Dodger fans morphed into lifelong Branca haters. I know how they feel. Count me in as a lifetime Darvish hater.

Will that hatred wither away? Forget it. Forgiveness is off the table.