.jpg)
Rumors fly during baseball's winter meetings, which is part of what makes them so much fun. Where will Rafael Furcal land? Will the Dodgers deal Blake DeWitt, now that Casey Blake and Mark Loretta are signed at Dewitt's two positions?
One question surrounding the Cubs is: will they sign or deal for a lefty power-hitting corner outfielder? Though they haven't explicitly said so, this means they're looking to replace Kosuke Fukudome, a lefty corner outfielder (their other corner OF is Alfonso Soriano, and they're not going to move him).
Fukudome looked like the latest Eastern sensation when he started last season off with a bang, hitting .327/.436/.480 in April. But this would be his best month, as he slid gradually back to a .264/.387/.402 June, before cratering after the All-Star break. His OPS lost 150 points in the second half, and he finally ended up riding Chicago pine down the stretch.
The Cubs had plenty of reasons for their own late season fade that left without a World Series ring for the 100th straight year. But Fukudome is becoming the scapegoat for many fans, right down to a prankish page at O'Hare during the NLDS that indicated he'd been traded to the Reds for a PTBNL (the ignominious Player To Be Named Later).
Cubs management is certainly believing that Fukudome's second half is more believable than the first as it seeks pop and consistency from its right field spot. Perhaps the only thing saving Fukudome's spot is the chaos surrounding the Tribune, who owns the Cubs, and the uncertainty about their salary situation (ownership has reportedly declared a sort of hiring freeze, with no new big contracts before older ones are shed).
The other thing saving him from a trade is his whopping salary: Fukudome's still owed $38M over the next three years, not to mention the perks that include eight 1st class tickets from Chicago to Japan (for his family), a personal masseuse, and $25K annually in moving expenses (how many times can a guy move?).
It's premature to call Fukudome done, for a variety of reasons. Baseball is a game of adjustments, and the league certainly adjusted to Fukudome as the season progressed, learning how to pitch to him. Fukudome didn't adjust back, but he's had to make plenty of adjustments already.
This is a guy playing for a new team, in a new league, a new country and city, in a city where fans are supportive—to a point. After he went 0-8 in the first 2 playoff games, Cubs fans let him have it and began booing him, something they'd been reluctant to do thus far.
Of all the off-the-field cultural adjustments he's had to make, an on-the-field cultural adjustment he's had to make is hometown fans giving him the business. Booing isn't forbidden in Japanese baseball, nor is it nonexistent, but it's more often drowned by the drumbeats and collective cheers that are either wonderfully supportive, or creepily mechanical, depending on your perspective.
Another change has been the length of the season and the quality of the competition. Any ballplayer will tell you that the season's a marathon and not a sprint, and Japanese seasons are almost thirty games shorter than ours. Fukudome faltered before that 135-game mark, but playing under pressure against better competition in a longer season has to contribute.
A good comparison here would be Hideki Matsui, who hit .299/.356/.459 in 2003, his first year of MLB, before faltering to a .269/.347/.413. That's a drop of 45 points of OPS, a third of Fukudome's collapse, but it's significant nonetheless. Matsui peaked in June that year (.394/.484/.673), then only had one more month with a SLG above .400 or an OBP above .330. His final line was .287/.353/.435, certainly on the low end of the power you'd like to see from a corner outfielder.
But the Yanks didn't talk about replacing him and Godzilla came into his own in the next season. His .298/.390/.522 2004 was his best year so far in the majors, and nobody's talked seriously about replacing him yet. Though Matsui's numbers were better and more consistent in his first year, and his ceiling is arguably higher than Fukudome's, their situations are similar.
What's different is the support each guy's gotten. The Cubs were sure to let the media and Fukudome know that he'd have some competition for his right-field spot in spring training, and trolling for a "power hitting corner outfielder" is another reminder of his lack of job security. As if it isn't enough to know that minor-league bopper Micah Hoffpauir (who went .342/.400/.534 in 73 big-league ABs in 2008) can play both first base and the outfield, and Derrek Lee is blocking his spot at first base.
I don't have a crystal ball any more than the next guy, but what if the Cubs just told Fukudome that they'd have higher expectations of him during his second year, but that his job was secure for now? What kind of head games do you play with a big player like this when you challenge him the moment he falters? Lou Pinella's no Joe Torre (Matsui's manager in 2003-4), and Steinbrenner's no Chicago Tribune, either.
But why not give Fukudome more of a chance? I've heard little from the Cubs to suggest that Fukudome is more than a $48M albatross around their necks, an afterthought at right field who's being judged on four bad months in the major leagues (one of which he only played part-time), instead of two good ones.
If he struggles all next season, and not just out of the gates the way Matsui has (his .268/.363/.416 career average in March makes it his worst month of the year), then talk about a trade or some time in AAA. Remember, this is a guy who went .312/.401/.604 in 2003, struggled in 2004 to post .277/.367/.569, before his season ended on a bone-breaking beanball, but he rebounded to a .328/.430/.590 in 2005.
He's a professional player and a professional hitter, and I hope the Cubs keep their hot-stove attentions elsewhere—at least for this year.