Saturday, February 4, 2023

One Last Time

 


    The pages in this picture are the sort of scraps most people wouldn't think of as particularly valuable. At least, not valuable enough to go through the effort of having them laminated for preservation's sake. Then again, I've never really trucked with most people.

    These are, as you can see, three classic, scratched-on-with-pencil baseball scorecards. No, they are not from a particular World Series. They are not from any games that involved a record-breaking HR or K, a 300th win, a no-hitter, triple-play, walk-off grand slam, or anything of that sort. It's more personal than that. These are my scorecards from the very last three games played by the Braves in Turner Field, the original stadium I knew as a child and where my lifelong obsession/addiction/neurological deficiency concerning baseball was born.

    I hadn't been able to see a game there since 2000, the year my family swapped out a Georgian zip code for one in New Jersey, right smack dab in hostile Yankee territory. I'd always intended a return pilgrimage, but through high school, college, relocating to Germany, and getting settled into a new career, the right time had never really come around.

    As soon as the team announced the plans for a new stadium, however, I knew I couldn't wait around anymore. A hard deadline- the end of the 2016 season- had been set. I arranged with my parents that my combined Christmas and birthday gifts for that year would be a big Atlanta trip to see the very last baseball series before Turned Field would be converted to a football stadium and the team would relocate to SunTrust (now Truist) part in Cobb County (ironically, right near where I'd grown up).

    That last series took place over the final three days of September, the 28th to the 30th, closing out the 2016 season, Atlanta Braves versus the Detroit Tigers. It's quite a remarkable thing, looking back now at the strange pocket dimension that year now seems to exist in. 2016 was a year of a great many endings. Which, in retrospect, was fitting. For those of us who lived through it, it was the year where „everyone died.“ It seemed, at times, like every week a new icon- musicians, athletes, actors, artists, historical icons, old and ailing or young and victim of a freak accident, you name it- left us, in most cases quite suddenly. David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Gene Wilder, Genn Frey, Elie Wiesel, Kieth Emerson, and Carrie Fisher were the ones that hit me the most, but that doesn't even begin to scratch the top of the tip of the iceberg. It got so bad that for years afterwards, the sight of a new famous person trending on Twitter produced an instant, terrifying dread in the gut.

    It was the year I got fired for the first (and so far, only) time in my life. It was the year Jon Stewart, easily the most politically influential figure for many in my generation, handed off the reigns of The Daily Show. And- because we can't afford to forget it- yes, it was also the year of Brexit, the end of the Obama administration and the waking nightmare that was the Worst Presidential Election.

    But that last part was still in the future when we landed in the Atlanta airport late September. For myself, my Dad, and an accompanying friend, for the next few days there would just be baseball games, hopefully good ones. Lucky for us, they were, and the scorecards tell the stories.

    We had gone to at least several games a year when I was a kid. My parents had had the connections to be invited to sing the national anthem at both the previous stadium, Fulton County, as well as Turner Field itself the year it opened. The stadium had originally been built for the 1996 Summer Olympics and then converted for baseball purposes immediately afterward. Though there were exceptions, we usually had seats somewhere in the right field bleachers, with the lettering of the right fielder always very clear to me, especially after I started wearing glasses.

    That was in the midst of the glory days of Bobby Cox, where the Braves ruled the East exclusively. Sadly, by 2016, the Braves were in the midst of a pretty brutal down period; the years of 2014 to 2017 are, to date, the only consecutive years of my lifetime where the Braves suffered repeated losing seasons, though 2016 was the only one of those years where they ended up with the indignity of a last-place finish. Having been born literally months before Bobby Cox took the helm and the franchise began its record 14-year streak, I fully accept that I am quite spoiled as a fan. That never makes losing any easier, though, and the sad truth is that I had been too young to experience the lone World Series title from that run, all the way back in 1995. The first playoffs I remember following in real time were in 1997, which ended for the Braves in fairly humiliating fashion, and since then I had exclusively known playoff heartbreak. I still longed to experience that moment every fan waits for; when their team wins the absolute final game of the year and has unassailable bragging rights atop the pile for exactly 12 months.

    To get there, new management under John Coppolella had begun a significant teardown and rebuild of the entire team the year before. The crew that, starting in 2010, I had hoped would be The Ones to restore the team's luster- Freddie Freeman, Craig Kimbrel, Jason Heyward, the Upton Brothers, Mike Minor, Evan Gattis, Andrelton Simmons- had not proven up to the task, much to my disappointment. With the sole exception of Freddie Freeman, everyone else was slowly traded off for prospects and draft picks. This was something that a lot of teams were doing at the time, drastically cutting payroll while restocking the farm system, though its promises of success remain....well, let's say disputed.

    At any rate, by the end of 2016 only the first glimmers of fruit from the Atlanta rebuild were starting to show. Specifically, at this point, all eyes were on Dansby Swanson. The 1st-Round draft pick by the Diamondbacks a year earlier, he had been acquired the previous winter in a blockbuster trade where the Braves sent Shelby Miller (himself acquired the offseason prior for Jason Heyward) to Arizona in exchange for Swanson, Aaron Blair, and Ender Inciarte. Even at the time it was considered an absolute steal for the Braves, even more so once Swanson got his August call-up. He'd made an electric first impression by the time the Tigers were in town, ending up with a .302/.361/.442 slash line and over 1 bWAR in just over one month of baseball. He was, at this point, considered the face of Atlanta's future, alongside Freddie Freeman, and was being actively marketed as such.

    The coaching staff was in flux as well; Cox's successor, Fredi Gonzalez, had been let go after a dismal first month of the year, and Brian Snitker- lifelong Braves franchiser and at that point the AAA manager- was up in what was still officially only an interim capacity. None of us had much of an opinion on Snitker at that point. I certainly didn't. He wouldn't really endear himself fully to most Braves fans until the following summer, when he went absolutely nuts defending Ronald Acuna during The Urena Incident. But that's a story for another time.

    While the Braves were ultimately not playing for anything more than their own pride- there was no chance to rise out of 5th place- they would at least have the opportunity to play the spoiler, since the Tigers came to town still holding a mathematical shot at the Wild Card. A long shot, to be sure, but if they swept the Braves and either the Orioles or Blue Jays faceplanted, they would nab a Wild Card spot, so there were actual stakes in the air as we filed in for the first game. At my request, our seats for the first game were in my old stomping grounds in right field.

    A look at the scorecard for the game provides a picture of the main lineups for both teams, which only changed minimally over the coming days. Daniel Norris started for Detroit, while Matt Wisler took the mound for Atlanta. Like Swanson, Wisler was a product of the rebuild, gotten from the Padres for Craig Kimbrel and the Melvin „The Lesser“ Upton, though unlike Swanson he would prove to have no staying power.

    Miguel Cabrera was, as he had been for years prior, the beating heart of the Tigers lineup. Just a year removed from his 4th batting title, he was still one of the most dangerous and feared hitters in the game, though 2016 ended up being his last truly great year; he topped 30 HR, 100 RBI, a .300 AVG and .500 SLG for the last time, and would later receive his 7th and final Silver Slugger award. You'll also notice a few other names that are still kicking around the big leagues, like James McCann, JD Martinez, Nick „Long Line Drive To Left“ Castellanos, and Jose Iglesias, as well as a personal favorite of mine, Justin Upton. He, along with his brother, had been another of the core Braves traded away as part of the teardown, also heading to San Diego for the 2015 season, only to be shifted over to Detroit a year later. And so it was that he was also a part of the closure of Turner Field, albeit on the opposing team.

    The Braves countered with Freddie Freeman and Matt Kemp at the center of their batting order. Freddie was already the steady veteran for Atlanta and the clear, spiritual successor to Chipper Jones, though he was still yet to get more mainstream recognized for his greatness- his Gold Glove, MVP award, Silver Sluggers, and the majority of his All-Star selections were still in the future at this point- but we already knew what we had in him. Swanson was, of course, set to start all 3 games, as was his trade partner, Ender Inciarte.

    Ender has, unfortunately, not been remembered well by Braves fans, which I must admit I have a hard time understanding. He never hit for power, but he is the most recent Brave to have a 200-hit season, and 2016 marked the first of 3 straight Gold Gloves he won for his work in CF. He filled in a crucial position for these years and provided the coverage needed to get to the new outfield the team currently has, so he will always have positive marks in my book.

    Less forgotten, though for my money still underappreciated, was Nick Markakis, at this point in his 2nd year with the team. Brought over from Baltimore to replace Heyward in right field, Markakis would go on to be one of the most important clubhouse leaders alongside Freddie Freeman. He not only bridged the divide between the rebuild and success, he made it over to the other side, serving as a veteran presence for the first three Division Titles and playoff trips starting in 2018 and up through his retirement after the 2020 season. For me, he will remain as important a part of the team from these years as anyone.

    Unfortunately, there was not much positive to say after the conclusion of the first game; the Tigers jumped on Wisler early and the Braves never really put up a fight. The 6-1 romping was highlighted by a Cabrera power show, as he hit his final two homers of the season within the first 3 innings to more or less put the game on ice. It IS of interest to note the appearance of the name d'Arnaud for Atlanta as a pinch hitter late in the evening; this is NOT the Travis d'Arnaud who would end up catching every inning of the '21 World Series run, but rather his older brother, Chase. Travis, 3 years younger, was indeed in the bigs by this time, but was still suffering from that unfortunate medical condition known as PFTM (Playing For The Mets). His time would come.

    Something that I had apparently forgotten completely until I sat down and combed through these for the first time in years; I actually saw K-Rod himself close out this game. Like Cabrera, Francisco Rodriguez was in the last of his truly great years, though it had already been awhile since he had shattered the single-season saves record with 62 in his 2008 campaign with the Angels. He came in for the final inning and- what else- struck out the side. It wasn't a save, since the lead was too big for that, but it was the final inning he pitched that year, and he would retire shortly after the 2017 season began.

    There was, then, still playoff hopes in the air for Detroit when Game 2 began the following evening. It was Breast Cancer Awareness Day, so while the foam tomahawks handed out the night before had been the classic red, this time they were pink. This being noted; it would perhaps behoove me to now address the question of the Atlanta name and its still-ongoing tradition of The Chop. Yes, I grew up on it and very, VERY stubbornly clung to it as a young adult, convinced that stopping would guarantee even worse disaster than what I had already experienced as a fan. And I was still doing it in 2016, and chopped and chanted along with the crowd during the games. I clung to all the old excuses; it was just sports, it was something from my childhood, it's not that offensive, etc., etc.

    It would take another 3 years before I could finally find the mental strength to admit what, really, I always knew. The name „Braves“ itself might be a bit sketchy on its own, but there's no denying that The Chop is stereotypically racist, ESPECIALLY since multiple actual tribes living in Georgia have said so and asked for it to stop, up to and including Native American major league players. I still have those two foam relics from the games for memory's sake, but I have stopped using them and very vocally support the team stopping it as well.

    The name is, for me, a touch stickier. However, as hard as it is to detach myself from the Braves name, I think here, too, change would be for the better. And though the usual suspects would bitch and moan no matter what, in the end, the real fans would come around. I don't have any excuse or justification for why it took me so long, nor for the fact that I did it one final time in a large crowd, that holds water. It is what it is, and all I can do is try to be better now.

    This, too, was all in the future at that point. On that day, all that counted was the game. For this one, we were seated a few rows into the left field side of the outfield. This would usually be prime real estate for foul balls, but on this particular day we would end up having no luck. This second matchup featured Aaron Blair as the Braves' starter, the last of the Arizona trio that Atlanta had stolen the year before. The rest of the Atlanta lineup shook up similar to the night before, though Jace Peterson got the start here at second base, with Swanson moving from 7th to 8th in the batting order. Peterson is another player mostly forgotten as time has passed, but I always saw him as an absolute killer with the bases loaded and an effective and clutch utility guy. He didn't shine much in this series, but he is another one of those faces I will always remember fondly.

    The Tigers countered with Jordan Zimmerman, someone I knew well as a longtime member of the Nationals up through 2015. Otherwise the Tigers lineup also remained mostly the same, with one notable exception; Jarrod Saltalamacchia, at that time proud owner of Baseball's Longest Last Name, started as catcher. He, like Justin Upton, was another former Brave, though his path back to his starting point had been much longer and more winding; he had just a brief stint in the bigs with Atlanta back in 2007 before being flipped to Texas in the ill-fated Mark Teixiera trade. Since then he'd bounced from Texas, to Boston (and was part of the 2013 Dream Team), to Florida, to Arizona, before landing with Detroit that year.

    This game was a much closer and more exciting affair than that from the night before. The Braves had a strong all-around offensive showing; home runs by Freddie and Kakes were the primary blows, but five different players in total came around to score. This included Dansby, who had two hits and reached base three times, following him reaching base twice the night before. Aaron Blair proved more effective than Wisler the night before, limiting Detroit to just two runs in six innings plus. I should note, though, that that last one- a Justin Upton home run to start the 7th, which is what chased Blair- would end up being the final home run in Turner Field, since the ball would end up not leaving the park at all in the final game.

    The crucial moment for both sides came in the 8th inning; the Braves had a solid-but-not-invulnerable 5-2 lead heading into the top, when the Tigers managed to start things off with a double, followed by a pair of walks. Just like that, the bases were loaded, no outs, and gulp Cabrera himself coming up to bat. A utility reliever, Mauricio Cabrera, had gotten the Braves into this mess, so Snit pulled him for another utility player, Chaz Roe, to get them out.

    After what seemed like an eternity, Roe managed the impossible and got Cabrera to strike out swinging. We cheered like mad, but of course with the bases loaded the chance that the game could flip completely was still too high for comfort, especially since Martinez, the next man up, was not that much less dangerous a hitter.

    Roe did about as well as he could; he got the ball on the ground, a sharp grounder to the left side. Swanson took it from there. With a dive, he caught in on the dirt, got to his knees, and made the quick first throw to second to start the inning-ending- and game-saving- double play. The Tigers made some trouble the next inning against Jim Johnson, scoring one more run, but in the end he managed to close things down. The game was over, the Braves had won, and with that defeat, Detroit had been mathematically eliminated from contention for the Wild Card.

    Chaz Roe had been a late-season addition from Baltimore; that 8th inning was just the 20th he pitched for Atlanta all year. The very next year he appeared in only 3 games before being cut. He ended up being picked up by, and sticking with, Tampa Bay through 2021, but has not appeared in a major league game since. He currently has just an 11-8 record and 3.89 ERA in 217+ innings for his entire MLB career, for a grand total of 1.2 bWAR. Maybe not much to brag about, comparatively speaking. But for that one crucial inning, he was our Superman.

    The final game the following afternoon was bookended by festivities connected to the closing of the stadium. We had prime seats up behind home plate and slightly to the left, offering a near-perfect panorama of the entire complex. In a creative pre-game ceremony, an all-time roster of the best players at each position from the Turner Field years was called out to take up their positions one last time before the first pitch, and it was quite a trip down memory lane; Brian Jordan, Gary Sheffield, and Andruw Jones manned the outfield. Adam Laroche came in for first, Marcus Giles for second, Rafael Furcal at short, and, obviously, Chipper Jones at third, with Javy Lopez catching. And of course, John Smoltz, Tom Glavine, and Greg Maddux came out as a trio to throw out first pitches. Bobby Cox was there as well, and Hank Aaron, still with us then, was of course present throughout. It was the perfect start to the day.

    As far as the lineups were concerned, both teams ran out carbon copies of their rosters from the first game, except that Swanson was once again 8th and Peterson stayed at second. The primary difference, of course, was the pitching matchups. Justin Verlander, by then already a legend and surefire Hall of Famer, started for Detroit. And opposing him on the Atlanta side, my personal favorite Braves pitcher from the 2010's, Julio Teheran.

    I can't say what, exactly, drew me to Teheran back when he was still just a top prospect in the late 2000's. All I know is that at some point I landed a Bowman Chrome prospect card from him at a show and thought, „This guy looks cool. I'm rooting for him!“

    While his career never went as far as I'd hoped, he fulfilled the role of durable starter, year in and year out, better than I think anyone ever fully realized. Prior to 2016 he'd had back-to-back years of topping 200 innings pitched, something that has only gotten rarer ever since then. Seven straight seasons of 30+ starts, a pair of All Star selections, tied the record for Opening Day starts; his was honorable service.

    And today, on this most special of days, he stood toe-to-toe with one of the defining pitchers of his generation. This was a classic pitcher's duel; both went seven innings, with Teheran striking out 12 and Verlander 8, and only a single old-school run made the difference. The Braves struck right away in the 1st with a pair of singles, followed by a sac fly by Freddie. And that was it. Once Teheran was done, Ramirez and Johnson pitched a scoreless inning apiece to secure the victory. It stayed tense to the end; exactly like the night before, Detroit managed to get a runner to second with no one out in the 8th. And also exactly like before, following a strike out (this time of pinch-hitter Victor Martinez), the rally was killed by another Swanson-led double play; a sharp liner by Kinsler went straight into Swanson's glove, and with the runner having hesitated just a second too long, Dansby had just enough time to flip the ball back to double him up.

    The last out, ironically, was Justin Upton, who went down swinging to end the season. So it is that Upton, though no longer with the Braves, claimed the strange, dual legacy of having both the final home run AND final strikeout at Turner Field. Cue the music and everyone was jumping and chanting as the players came out to celebrate.

    The most meaningful was still to come; as a podium was set up for a row of speeches, which we would end up listening to on the radio on the way to dinner, Hank Aaron was once more brought out onto the field to help remove home plate, which was then transported over to still-unfinished SunTrust to be installed at home. A true passing of the torch from one stadium to another, guided by one of the greatest people to ever pick up a bat.

    And so the series, the season, and the 20-year-reign of Turner Field came to an end. We had some time left in the city before we flew back and returned to our daily lives. 2016 continued to be an otherwise awful year that portended still worse to come. I continued to adjust to my new line of work, which ended up being exactly the career change I had needed. In less positive news, my longstanding friendship with the person who joined my Dad and I fell apart a short while later for rather horrific reasons, which I will not put into print here. This was the last time I saw and spent any time with this person, but I have never seen any reason to let what came later color the memories. They are not worth that.

    As far as the players and teams were concerned, this was the last season that Detroit was relevant as a playoff team. Cabrera began a significant decline the very next year; though his incredible counting stats have continued to grow and he is now putting the final touches on his legacy, he has ultimately been only exactly average at best, and in some years worse than average, as a daily player. Verlander has so far managed to avoid such a fate. A year later he was no longer with Detroit, having been traded to Houston in time to contribute to their drought-breaking (and, we would learn later, ethically questionable) World Series title in 2017. He has since won two more Cy Youngs, passed the 3,000 K mark, and stands a chance to be the first pitcher since Randy Johnson to reach 300 wins (knock on wood). He will sail into Cooperstown when his time comes, as will Cabrera.

    Speaking of the Hall of Fame, actually, it was in this very offseason of my writing this that Francisco Rodriguez hit the writer's ballot. As one of the all-time saves leaders, he does have a not-insignificant argument for entry, but he only just barely stayed on the ballot with about 10% of the vote. It remains to be seen what sort of chance he has to build on that. Justin Upton moved on to the Angels, and was very up and down before finally being cut last year. As of now he has not retired, but neither has anyone been willing to take out a flyer on him. His playing days are quite likely over.

    For Atlanta, things would get worse before they would get better. Over the coming offseason, the franchise would get slammed by a massive scandal involving illegal signing practices in Latin America that would land Coppolella on the MLB banned list and leave the Braves severely restricted in the international draft for years to come.

    It was a nightmare for us fans, an absolute humilitation right when we were hoping the team was close to returning to more positive relevance. The direct result of all this- Coppolella banned and his cohort, John Hart, resigned in disgrace- was the hiring of Alex Anthropoulos (AA) to refill the General Manager role. Brain Snitker was retained for at least another year to ensure at least some continuity. In time, we would come to appreciate this as two of the best things to happen to the franchise in years. Snitker proved able to manage and encourage a positive clubhouse culture that would be crucial in the team not letting the draft scandal affect on-field play.

    Thankfully, the team moved things forward rapidly. Dansby was joined as a future face of the franchise the very next year by Ozzie Albies and Ronald Acuna Jr., and shortly thereafter Austin Riley, Max Fried, and others came up and shone too. AA runs one of the tightest ships in baseball and is able to operate with almost frightening secrecy, pulling off signings and trades that few, if anyone, saw coming. And, a few bad decisions aside (*cough* Ozuna cough), his moves have tended to work out incredibly well.

    There have been ups and downs. Acuna has had a rough time of it staying healthy and Dansby went through several years' worth of growing pains at least partially connected to the expectations we were heaping on him back in 2016. Despite that, the rebuild very quickly started to work better than we dared hope at the time. Just two years later, the Braves stormed out ahead of middling competition and reclaimed 1st place in the East. And they have held it since, with their current streak of titles at five and counting.

    Even better was to come. 2018 and 2019, partially thanks to terrible luck, continued the old trend of the Braves making the playoffs only to be immediately bounced by a lesser team. 2020, ironically the short and very strange „pandemic season,“ was when that uniquely Atlantean curse was broken, with the Braves advancing all the way to the NLCS and forcing the powerhouse Dodgers to go a full 7 games to beat them and win the pennant.

    It would not be for another year before the next step would finally come to fruition. Though many teams have jumped on the much-derided „tanking“ bandwagon- crashing the professional roster into the ground and cutting costs in favor of collecting draft picks- the Braves are thus far only the 3rd team to fully tank, following the 2016 Cubs and 2017 Astros, and end up with what, in theory, is the whole point of putting the fans through that sort of pain; a World Series title.

    Yes, 2021 was finally the year my 5-year-old inner child was sated, and the hopes that I still carried with me during that final series at Turner Field were made manifest. Despite an absolutely morbid first half of the season, and the loss of cornerstone players like Acuna to injury, the remaining core- plus a trio of midseason trade aquisitions (Joc Pederson, Eddie Rosario, and Jorge Soler) who turned into minor demigods once the playoffs started- came together like never before. First, they reclaimed the division from Mets and Phillies teams that had been floundering as much as the Braves had. They easily dispatched the Brewers despite not having a fully healthy pitching staff, and then got their revenge over the Dodgers for the year before to claim their first pennant since 1999.

    Facing them in the World Series was the Houston Astros, baseball's current Evil Empire. Technically, Justin Verlander was still on their roster, but he was out from Tommy John at the time, so there was no fateful rematch to be had there. Nonetheless, and despite it not exactly being a series for the history books, the Braves did what they had to, including overcoming even more freak injuries to key players, to capture their first World Series since 1995 and only the 4th in the team's 150+ year history. Soler, Freeman, and Swanson all hit titanic home runs that put the final game away early and quite decisively. Fittingly, it was those last two, the only two holdovers left from the 2016 roster, that sealed the deal; a groundball in the bottom of the 9th was hit out to short with a runner on. Swanson fielded it with ease, and after taking a moment to decide which base to target, fired a shot to Freeman at first. The ball hit Freddie's glove, his arms shot up into the air, and he burst out into a smile that could ignite a star. Dansby was so overcome that, for a moment, he could barely keep his hat in his hands. Despite all doubts, despite all comers, the Braves were top of the pile at last.

    As pure and as beautiful as the moment was, of course, nothing ever truly lasts. Freddie Freeman had been the one major player to remain as an achor for both the team and the fans throughout the entire rebuild. His first career home run, off future Hall of Famer Roy Halladay all the way back in 2010, had me immediately smitten. The years that followed had me hoping, praying, expecting, that he would follow in Chipper's footsteps and remain a Brave for life. But that contract was in its final year in 2021 and what little word that got out about extension talks hadn't been encouraging. It didn't overshadow the moment, but the worry did start to creep back once the dust had settled and the champagne spray dried.

    It took a bit for things to clear up, especially since that winter saw the first lockdown in the sport since 1994. But in the end, after the lockout ended, the worst did indeed come to pass; Freddie didn't just leave, he signed with the fucking Dodgers. There was some very muddy drama around this, around how close he actually may have been to staying with Atlanta and some questions over whether or not his agent fucked up big-time in his talks with AA. Honestly, at this point, I don't care about what the truth may be, since no explanation can change the hard fact that, immediately after reaching the heights he had stayed on to see, Freddie was gone.

    It didn't feel real. It still doesn't. But baseball, and life, and time itself stop for no one. And, incredibly, the Braves would not just recover, they would go on to win a whole 12 more games in 2022 than they did the year before. True, they were unable to repeat as WS champs, but they outlasted the Mets in a fantastic Division race to keep their new streak of dominance alive.

    Much of this resilience was thanks to the leadership of Dansby Swanson, who had overcome the pressures and struggles that followed 2016 to become the leader and perennial winner we always knew he could be. And yet...he, too, was only under contract for one more year. And once again, despite all the positive things going right for Atlanta, despite an incredible amount of talent locked down for literally a decade at exceedingly team-friendly cost, we were once again confronted with the specter of an otherwise good year ending with another pillar leaving.

    And once again....the worries were wholly founded. Before the New Year, and before I sat down to begin this winding exercise of my memories, Dansby Swanson departed as well, signing with the Chicago Cubs.

    And so it is, over 6 years after I attended that last series at Turned Field, when Swanson's star was just beginning to rise and Freeman's was on the cusp of being better appreciated by the sport, five years before those two would combine to make the final out of a long-awaited, triumphal championship run...both are gone. I will watch the clip of that final out for the rest of my life. There will always be a slight tinge of sadness in those moments, regrets that, though so many other players stuck around, it was precisely those two that ended up leaving in short order.

    But flags, as they say, fly forever. And some memories never fade.



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