Cubs

Cubs: Joe Maddon brings zoo animals to Wrigleyville circus

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Cubs: Joe Maddon brings zoo animals to Wrigleyville circus

Joe Maddon brought his zoo-animal act into Wrigley Field’s interview room/dungeon, once again showing why he’s the perfect leader for the three-ring circus at Clark and Addison.

The Cubs manager helped organize a petting zoo on the field – snow leopard, sloth, armadillo, penguin – for players and coaches and their families before Tuesday’s 4-0 win over the Milwaukee Brewers. Obviously.  

So there was Maddon during his pregame media session, sitting up on the platform in front of the microphone and talking to a flamingo named Warren. 

“My goal in life was to eventually own a bar named ‘The Pink Flamingo,’” Maddon said. “If that ever happens, then I’ve made it. And if that ever does happen, Warren’s going to be at the opening night.

[MORE: Arrieta joins 20-win club after victory against Brewers]

“Thank you, Warren, you did not disappoint.”

Maddon credited traveling secretary Vijay Tekchandani, who lined it up with the Columbus Zoo and Aquarium. The Ohio zoo lists TV personality Jack Hanna as its director emeritus. Tekchandani had found Simon the Magician for Maddon on an off-day in Manhattan in late June, getting him to perform inside Citi Field’s visiting clubhouse before a win over the New York Mets.

Maddon’s gimmicks probably have an expiration date and might not always generate universal enthusiasm inside the clubhouse. But his overall style has turned down the pressure and deflected attention away from young players like Kris Bryant, who blasted his 26th home run on Tuesday night, breaking the rookie franchise record held by Hall of Famer Billy Williams.

[SHOP: Buy a Joe Maddon jersey shirt]

Jonny Gomes – the Kansas City Royals outfielder who knows all about clubhouse chemistry and was there when the Tampa Bay Devil Rays turned into a  2008 World Series team – explained Maddon’s stunts this way:

“There are quirks that he brings into it. It’s meaningful and there’s passion and research, of course, and big words behind it. It’s not really just like bringing in a rodeo clown and having him jump out of the barrel and get back in the barrel.

“I would love for someone to come up with a hitting coach or pitching coach and a manager where the whole team was on board to where your whole staff would take a bullet for (them). But if (there was a) book on how to do that, it would have been written (already).

“Like everything (Maddon) does, it’s prepared. It’s not a fast-food (idea) or a quick Band-Aid.”  

Maddon is 61 years old and in the first season of five-year, $25 million contract, on the verge of clinching a playoff spot and on pace for 95 wins. 

Maddon is going to enjoy this and do it his way. Happy hour with Warren at “The Pink Flamingo” can wait.

“It just came together perfectly on this particular day,” Maddon said. “Great weather outside…3 o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon…what else would you want to be doing except greeting (zoo animals)? There you have it.” 

Glanville: Fall to Spring - A player’s offseason changes meaning with each changing season

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USA TODAY

Glanville: Fall to Spring - A player’s offseason changes meaning with each changing season

A few weeks after the we (the Cubs) were eliminated from the 2003 playoffs, I got a phone call from my college professor. Since it was officially the off-season, I was in the early stages of a break from following a pocket schedule to tell me where to be every day for nearly eight months.

But this was a man I could not refuse. I chose my college major to go into his field of transportation engineering and he was calling because he needed a teaching assistant to accompany him on his trip to South Africa.

One minute I could barely move off of my couch in my Chicago apartment after losing Game 7 against the Marlins. The next minute, I would be standing within miles of the Southern most point in Africa at the Cape of Good Hope. Why not? I needed the distraction so I agreed to go.

The offseason is its own transition. Leaving the regimen of routine, of batting practice and bus times, to an open ended world that you have to re-learn again. When I finished my first full major league season in 1997, I lived in Streeterville at the Navy Pier Apartments.

That offseason, I decided to stay an extra month in Chicago only to wake up panicked for the first two weeks because I thought I was missing stretch time for a home day game. A major league schedule becomes etched in your DNA after a while.

It is also a time that you get to reflect. The regular season does not give you a moment to really get perspective on what was just accomplished, what it all means, what you would change. I always joked about the T-shirt I wanted to a sell that listed all of the things a major league player figures out during the off-season. From the perfect swing to the ex-girlfriend you need to un-break-up with next week.

It all becomes so clear when a 96 MPH fastball isn’t coming at you.

For years, I would arrange a training program to follow, but I quickly learned that I had to mix it up. There was only so much repetition I could stand in the off-season. So some years, I moved to the site of spring training and worked out early with the staff, other years I found a spot at home where I grew up or wherever I played during the season, to train.

I was single when I played, but now with a family, I have a better understanding of the challenges my teammates would express as they were re-engaging as a daily father again after this long absentee existence.

To keep it fresh and spicy, when I got older in the game, I enrolled in a dance studio and took a winter of dance lessons. Salsa, Foxtrot, Rumba, you name it. On Thursdays we had to dance for an hour straight, changing partners in the room every song change. Dancing with the Stars had nothing on me.

Of course, not every offseason is fun and games. There were years when I wasn’t sure I would have a job the next year, or I was in the throes of a trade rumor. In 1997, I was traded from the Cubs to the Phillies two days before Christmas. In 2002, my father passed away on the last game of the season, leading the offseason to be a time of mourning.

By my final season in 2005, I thought I was officially on my couch forever. I was going to fade away into oblivion like many players do. No fanfare, the phone just would stop ringing and I would just let the silence wash over me. The Yankees had called earlier in that off-season, acting like they were doing me a favor which I turned down, then they called back later with a more open tone, seeing me as a potential key piece in their outfield with Bernie Williams slowing down quite a bit at that point.

I did get off that couch for that call, only to get released the last week of camp, so I was back on the couch, with a fiancé and some extra salt in the wounds after that final meeting with Brian Cashman and Joe Torre, who boxed me into the coaches office to tell me I was released. Released? Come on. Never had that happen before.

The Cubs players will go through all of this if they have the good fortune of playing a long time. The wave of uncertainty, the meaning of age in this game spares no one. Each offseason is a time to reset, a period where you get away, seemingly adrift from the game, then as spring gets closer, the shoreline comes up in the horizon once again, magnetically drawing you to its shores for another season.

Amazingly, you don’t always know your age and what it has done to your body. 34 can’t be that old, right? I can still run, or throw 95. Then those 23-year-olds in camp are the wake up call, or maybe you are that 23-year-old and can’t believe your locker is next to Ryne Sandberg’s.

Then you blink, and you are advising Jimmy Rollins about etiquette and realize you have become that guy, the seasoned vet, preaching about locker room respect.

For the 2018 Cubs, they fell short of their goal to repeat their 2016 magic. Failed to meet their singular destination that meant success over all else. Yet, those who come back for 2019, will not be the same player, the same person, that left the locker room at the close this season. They will have grown, changed, aged, wizened up, rehabbed, hardened. All of which means that new perspective is the inevitable part of this time off, whether you like it or not.

Baseball is a game that has this unique dynamic. The highest intensity rhythm of any sport. Every day you are tested. You are pushed to the brink by sheer attrition. According to my teammate Ed Smith, who was playing third base at the time when Michael Jordan reached third, Jordan, after playing well over 100 games in a row, said to him “Man, I have never been this tired in my entire life.”

The grind.

Then it stops on a dime. Season over. Only on baseball’s terms.

But you may be granted another spring. Another crack at it. Until one day, the baseball winter never ends and its time for you to plant your own spring.

Remember that guy? Former Cubs shortstop Ricky Gutiérrez

Remember that guy? Former Cubs shortstop Ricky Gutiérrez

Ricky Gutiérrez played in the Majors from 1993-2004. He played shortstop for the Cubs from 2000-01 and later signed with them again in June 2004. 

However, Gutiérrez never got back to the Majors with the Cubs, who sent him to the Red Sox the following month. His final Major League game was with the Red Sox on Oct. 3, 2004, the final game of the 2004 regular season; he didn’t play in the 2004 postseason. Gutiérrez was subsequently signed and released by a few other teams, including the White Sox in 2005.

Gutiérrez holds the distinction of being the first Cubs player to hit a regular season grand slam against the White Sox (July 12, 2001). In his two seasons with the Cubs, he tied for the Major League lead in sacrifice bunts both years (16 in 2000, 17 in 2001) which was odd since he had a grand total of 18 sacrifice bunts in his 847 career games NOT in a Cubs uniform. He also had uncharacteristic power with the Cubs:  21 home runs for Chicago in 272 games, 17 home runs with everyone else (847 games).

What Cubs fans probably remember most is what Gutiérrez did against them. On May 6, 1998 he had the lone hit (many dispute it should have been ruled an error) for the Astros off Kerry Wood in Wood’s 20-strikeout masterpiece at Wrigley Field (Gutiérrez was responsible for two of the strikeouts). 

Later that season, on June 26, the number 20 and Gutiérrez were again connected when he had a 20-pitch battle against Bartolo Colón, which ended in a strikeout. It remained the last plate appearance in the Majors of at least 20 pitches until Brandon Belt flew out on the 21st pitch of an at-bat against the Angels' Jaime Barria on April 22, 2018.

Gutiérrez’s nephew, James Jones, played 14 seasons in the NBA for the Pacers, Suns, Trail Blazers, Heat and Cavaliers.