Four Incredibly Short Essays About Dewayne Wise


In the end, did it matter who hit leadoff and played center? Was any other option really that much better? To put it another way, was a one-dimensional player going to help a team so desperately in need of help on all fronts? Was there really that much of a difference between the zero-dimensional player who initially got the job and the one-dimensional player who deserved it?


The Catch (you know the one I’m talking about) was pretty cool, and no one, not even the most embittered fan/beat reporter/blogger can take that away from him. Ever. His offense was non-existent but he made The Catch. His judgment on the basepaths was suspect, but he made The Catch. He didn’t understand that he wasn’t the answer to the Sox’ problems, but he made The Catch. In a way, he was like Juan Uribe without the reckless power, or Scott Podsednik without the calculated bursts of precisely-rationed speed; in another, more precise way, he was Dewayne Wise.


Say this for Dewayne Wise: the guy is a testament to drive and motivation. As bad as he ever played (and no matter how badly we treated him) he stuck to it, kept his eyes on the prize and refused to let people wear him down, and you have to respect that. Have to. On the other hand, drive and motivation don’t mean much when you’re a supposedly speedy leadoff guy with 52 total bases in 142 at-bats and a 4-for-9 success rate in stolen base attempts.


Dewayne Wise posted a terrible offensive line in 2009. Terrible. But you know what? So did most White Sox outfielders. Alex Rios was less effective a hitter than Wise. Carlos Quentin hit a mere 11 points higher than Wise; Jermaine Dye’s second-half average was actually worse than Wise’s. This is of course misleading – the difference being that Quentin et al believably could do better because they already have done better; Dewayne Wise’s best season fell short of any of those players’ worst. In the end, Dewayne Wise becomes more than a season or a catch or a blind refusal to quit; Dewayne Wise is where White Sox outfielders go when they die.

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  1. David
    Posted October 12, 2009 at 11:00 am | Permalink

    DeWayne wise is a better baseball player than you, or me, or probably anyone else who will ever read this blog. Fans, most of whom are not among the million best at their trades, booed him and called him a failure because, while he is one of the thousand best baseball players on earth, he is not one of the six hundred best.

  2. Joe
    Posted October 12, 2009 at 1:20 pm | Permalink

    Calling Wise one of the “best thousand baseball players” is pretty generous. Thanks for the catch, Dewayne. Now please, sign a contract with the Twins or Cubs.

  3. joneser
    Posted October 13, 2009 at 1:16 pm | Permalink

    not gonna miss him. good luck to him, wish him the best, but not gonna miss him. hope he has a great season next year wherever he ends up, but not gonna miss him. too many painful d.wise memories i gotta get over first.

  4. Posted October 15, 2009 at 9:53 am | Permalink

    David, we weren’t booing him for not being good enough. We were booing the White Sox for trotting him out there everyday when it was painfully obvious that he wasn’t even close to good enough and never would be. Goodbye Dewayne. You made Nick Swisher look like a good option in CF after all.

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