There was something unnerving about that right hook Jose Ramirez landed on Tim Anderson’s jaw in the sixth inning of the White Sox-Guardians game Saturday. Beyond the discombobulation it caused Anderson, that is.
The wild but amazingly accurate haymaker caused Anderson to tumble backward and lie down in the dirt, perhaps to take a lengthy nap. He was helped up and acted as though he wanted more.
You just hoped he didn’t get it.
In fact, it was a blessing when teammate Andrew Vaughn finally wrapped him up and carried him like a squirming fence post into the dugout and out of sight.
The Sox have been getting blasted all season from every direction — left, right and sideways — and it seems a knockout blow is only a jab away.
Indeed, one more sucker punch came from Yankees reliever Keynan Middleton, who was with the Sox until getting traded a week ago. He told ESPN on Sunday the Sox have ‘‘no rules or guidelines.’’ The team, he implied, was about as disciplined as a rowboat filled with drill-wielding 10-year-olds.
‘‘He’s not wrong,’’ former Sox pitcher Lance Lynn, now with the Dodgers, told the Los Angeles Times about Middleton.
That ‘‘no rules’’ indictment hits everybody up and down the line: players, manager Pedro Grifol, general manager Rick Hahn, all the multitudinous vice presidents and senior vice presidents on staff — including longtime senior vice president Ken Williams and senior executive vice president Howard Pizer — and, of course, chairman Jerry Reinsdorf.
The Sox aren’t just a bad team, but they’re rudderless. It’s funny that Middleton almost gladly shaved his beard when he got to the Yankees, per team standards, seeming to welcome any kind of discipline whatsoever.
That punch signified so much. It was a metaphor come to life.
Of course, the Sox are embarrassed by this season, furious inside that it started off terribly, showed the briefest hope, then collapsed for good. So many players were dumped at the trade deadline that the way to watch former stars is to wait until they come back to town in new uniforms.
Injuries? Who hasn’t been injured in the last couple of years?
Outfielder Luis Robert Jr., a bright spot for the team, was the Sox’ lone representative to the All-Star Game last month, but he injured himself in the Home Run Derby and couldn’t play. Thus, the Sox were properly embodied by nobody in the midsummer celebration.
There is nothing to celebrate here. For years, the organization has appeared to be building toward dominance. And then, like a kid’s twig house, everything collapses.
The dumping of pitchers Lynn, Lucas Giolito and Joe Kelly (among others) showed this season is in the can. It’s wait till next year. Again.
It’s possible the prospects acquired for the veterans someday will be stars for the Sox. Such deals can come true. But a lot of times they’re just more hope and snake oil sold to fans to keep from admitting you’ve messed things up for years.
Sometimes things that seemed so right inexplicably go bad. Remember when Anderson was an up-and-coming superstar, the 2019 American League batting champ? He hit .335 that season. Now he’s hitting .244.
Though never a slugger, he did hit 45 home runs in 2019-21. This season, he has one. Injured for half of last season, you know he’s pressing, fearful, frustrated, angry. Yet he’s cocky, too.
All of it coalesced when he got into a classic pugilist’s stance, tossing off his fielding glove like a hockey goon preparing to do his thing, throwing two punches at Ramirez that missed, then getting clocked.
An assist on the knockdown goes to Sox pitcher Michael Kopech, who had grabbed Ramirez around the neck, allowing the eager, perhaps drooling, Anderson to move in too close. Then the birdies were tweeting.
Ramirez said Anderson has been disrespecting the game for too long. Maybe so. Bat flips, trash-talking, arrogance — all can be seen as enthusiasm or immaturity. Indeed, it was remarkable that Anderson still was talking crap even as he was being held up by teammates, his legs like jelly.
This is not to exonerate Ramirez. His headfirst slide into second base on a double is a cocky move, a modern move that invites trouble. But the brawl was about the Sox, generally. It was only Anderson’s chin that felt it precisely.
Ironically, the Sox won that game against the Guardians. Maybe the chaos will pull them together. Right now, however, it’s a unanimous decision against.
