The East End of London, my home for the next three weeks as I study British media systems abroad, boasts a cacophony of cockney characters. A smorgasbord of cultures, colors, and creeds. A melting pot of potatoes, naan, and Paninis, where wafts of roasted kabob, fresh baguette, and fried fish lace the air with a combustible concoction of tempting flavor. Accents abound from Kingston, Dublin, Nairobi, Mumbai, Beirut, and a host of non-descript Arabia. The streets are ripe with Saris, bowlers, and Burqas. And homeless and students and strollers and thieves.
It is a place where, sitting on the Tube, you will brush shoulders with vagabonds. Eyes ruby red, faces grizzled with the anguish of the uncertainty, and jackets musty with smoke. A milky yellow discharge crusts the creases of their mouths. The questions pondered are better left unanswered.
The diversity of the East End can only be paralleled by the clubhouse of a minor league baseball team.
Journeymen, heralded prospects, inconsistent prospects, flailing prospects, career minor leaguers, borderline big leaguers, and rehab stinters share bus rides and buffet tables.
It is a great diversity of ball players.
It is a place where, sitting in the bleachers, you can see the top prospect in a farm system batting right after a 34 year old Triple-A vagabond. A place where you can see the brightest young pitcher in the A’s organization, former River Cat Vin Mazarro calmly preparing from dominance. A place you can see fun loving, happy-to-be-autograph-signing, always jovial Gio Gonzalez ribbing young fans who curiously peer down into the bullpen. A place where you can see a pitcher who was once featured in a Korean gay prono, such as former River Cat Kazuhito Tadano- owner, of course, to this memorable quote: "I was young, playing baseball, and going to college and my teammates and I needed money… I'm not gay."
You’ll see Blue Jays kid slugger Travis Snider when Vegas comes to town. You’ll see future Florida Marlin speedster Cameron Maybin when New Orleans comes to town.
It is the place I first saw the spectacle of Adam Jones- leading to fantasy base ball superiority in my current keeper league. The place I saw the rising star of Howie Kendrick and the shockingly fading star of Jeremy Reed.
Now it is the place you can see a man blacklisted from Major League Baseball. An all-star turned pariah. The Sprewell of the diamond. Shawn Chacon.
Chacon, recently acquired by the A’s, made his Sacramento debut on Saturday, giving up four runs over six innings in a winning effort.
Of course, Chacon’s legacy will not be his ability to manage the light air of Coors Field during his days as a Rockie. It will not be his serviceable big league career. Rather, Chacon will forever be remembered for his physical altercation with Astros GM Ed Wade exactly one year ago. After Wade reportedly verbally chastised Chacon, the pitcher grabbed Wade by the neck and threw him to the ground. The incident will follow Chacon into the archived almanacs of baseball history. Shawn Chacon has not thrown an pitch in the MLB since.
And yet, now he is a River Cat. Now he is part of the family.
But on the East End, eccentricities are being pushed, forced, manipulated out in hopes of “cleaning” the area, making it more conducive for tourists at the 2012 Olympics. The venue for London’s showcase to the world will be a sugar-coated, watered-down, shell of itself. The character is being eviscerated from the bowels of the streets. Gentrification is the brilliant plan.
This is where the comparisons must end, then. Chacon’s checkered past is just that- past. There is no doubt Chacon has talent, as his 2003 All Star appearance suggests. However, it will be interesting to see whether the chip on his shoulder will translate into inspired play or overbearing pressure. The organization’s hope is that Sacramento serves as little more than a stepping stone where Chacon can thaw his now-numb game.
Further than that, his infamy will conveniently fade into the anonymity of a minor league clubhouse, just as the Burqas and Kenyan accents fade into the East End. A thee eared man is only a freak if he is not in the circus. The anonymity should allow Chacon to focus on his mechanics without too much attention. He’ll be in a place where he can work in peace, free from the vicious news cycle of the Bigs, far from the lights, camera, action of Major League Baseball, where every move is scrutinized and every mistake inflamed.
Shawn Chacon has received his second chance in a bastion of reacquired opportunity. In Sacramento he will just be another cockney character.
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