I'd Rather Be Fishin'

Not everyone loves the game.

How can a man with a mustache this fine not be satisfied in every aspect of life? (Image credit: AP Photo/David Zalubowski)

I don’t think I’m alone when I say I’ve worked plenty of jobs I hated. It wasn’t always that way. My first job was as a projectionist at a local movie theater. I wax nostalgic for it now, but it really was pretty cool. I got to watch movies for free, helped myself to all the soda and popcorn I wanted, received an education in film from a cool boss, and learned a trade only a small percentage of people in the world know how to do.*

*A trade that’s now obsolete, but that’s beside the point. Even back in its prime, I didn’t encounter too many other people who knew how to thread up an old school projector.

My current job isn’t too bad either. I never necessarily saw myself as a librarian, but it makes sense in a lot of ways, and most days it’s fairly fulfilling. I can’t say that about the majority of my former jobs.

Walmart was a nightmare, and Target was actually worse for me, though to be fair, I only worked at the latter for one day. I was hired as a stocker, but after sitting through two excruciating orientation sessions, they told me I was going to be working the in-store Pizza Hut instead. Sorry, nothing against fast food, but that wasn’t what I signed up for.

Then there was the casino. I’ve actually worked at two different casinos, the first as a slot attendant, and the second as a table games dealer. The latter option was the lesser evil, and not just because it paid better. But casinos are the most negative, soul-crushing environments I’ve ever stepped into.* I mean, it’s one thing to stop in every now and then to shoot some craps, but when you’re there every day, it wears on you. Not to mention all the secondhand smoke.

*It’s like working in the comments section of a Facebook post. Depressing.

So I guess I shouldn’t complain about my current gig, even if it drains me some days. I was supposed to be a critically-acclaimed successful writer by now, but it could always be way worse. I know that for a fact.

Of course, if you asked ten-year-old me where I was supposed to be at by now, he’d have probably told you I’d be a recently retired baseball player. Or maybe I’d still be hanging on as a grizzled old knuckleballer. That was the dream.

I imagine I’m not alone on that either. I think that’s why it’s always such a gut punch when we hear players complain about the game, like Anthony Rendon did this last offseason. He made a point of mentioning that baseball wasn’t a top priority for him, and said he’d often thought of walking away from game. And though I don’t think that is the mindset of the majority of MLB players, it’s probably a lot more prevalent than most of us suspect.

To be honest, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this stance. Baseball is a grind, and like anything, when it becomes your job, I’m sure that takes some of the fun out of it. And players are allowed to have interests outside baseball. It doesn’t have to consume their entire identity.

But we find these statements so galling because most of us would give our right arm to play baseball for a living. Granted, that might make playing more difficult, but not necessarily impossible. Look up Pete Gray. Few of us have the talent do so, however, even with all our limbs, and so it bothers us when anyone who possesses those gifts casually dismisses the game we love.

Especially if they’re being paid $245 million dollars over seven years, which is what Rendon got when he signed with the Angels in 2020. What has that translated to on the field? Rendon has been hurt most of his time in Anaheim.* In his first four seasons with Los Angeles, he played in just 200 games. To be fair, the 2020 season was only 60 games long, and he played in 52, but I’m not sure that helps his case a whole lot. Even when he’s been in the lineup, his production has been a far cry from the superstar level he was playing at in Washington.

*Yes, in case you were wondering, Rendon is currently injured and out for the foreseeable future.

I’m not saying his injuries aren’t legitimate or that he’s dogged it on the field, but when you make the kind of comments he has, and put them up against his salary and recent track record, you can understand why it rubs so many fans the wrong way. It also makes me think of Jeff King.

Jeff King was the number one overall pick of the 1986 draft, and he was a damn good third baseman. A fixture on the Pirates teams that won three straight division titles from 1990-92, alongside Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla, and Andy Van Slyke, King was a power bat in the middle of the lineup.

His best statistical season came in 1996, after the Pirates core broke up. He hit .271/.346/.497 with 30 HR, 111 RBI, and a 117 OPS+. The Royals traded for him that offseason, and he followed up his career year by nearly replicating it in Kansas City, posting a .238/.341/.497 slash line, 28 HR, 112 RBI, and a 104 OPS +. He was also the third player in MLB history to hit two home runs in the same inning twice, following in the footsteps of Willie McCovey and Andre Dawson. (A-Rod and Edwin Encarnacion later joined him.) That’s pretty elite company.

There was only one problem. Jeff King hated baseball. He loathed the national anthem because every time he heard it, he had to play baseball. Personally, that’s my favorite thing about the anthem, and I don’t even get to play. I just get to watch. In fact, King was in such a hurry to get out of the game, he abruptly retired just 21 games into the 1999 season. The reason given was his recurring back issues, which surely played a role, but Joe Posnanski reported that King stepped away the day his pension was fully vested.

To be fair, I don’t think King always felt that way about baseball. The injuries to his back took a toll, but beyond that, his mindset simply changed. He lost his passion for the game. It happens. I imagine most of us have lost our enthusiasm for things we loved in our youth. If that were not the case, I’d be writing about G.I. Joe and heavy metal in addition to baseball. It just so happened that baseball endured for me.* For King, not so much.

*Though if you catch me in the right mood, I’m still up for some headbanging.

For the older Jeff King, “I’d rather be fishing” became more than just a belt buckle or a bumper sticker. He couldn’t wait to get away, which seems unfathomable to so many of us who spent our whole childhoods dreaming about playing baseball in the majors. To his credit, however, he respected the game to the end. Rather than sticking around to half-ass it on the field and pad his bank account, he walked away as soon as he was financially secure.

I think that’s what bugs us so much about Rendon and players with similar attitudes. It’s not that they don’t revere the game in the same way we do, but that they take it for granted, and get paid handsomely while they do it.

That said, it’s not about the money for me. At the risk of sounding sappy, it’s about the love of the game. And that’s why, on most days, I’d still rather be at the ballpark.

You don’t even have to pay me a dime.

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Thanks for reading Powder Blue Nostalgia. Are there any other players you can think of who hated the game? Share ‘em in the comments below, along with any past jobs you despised. Or feel free to vent about your current job, if you need the outlet. This is a safe space. Unless your boss also subscribes. In which case, watch what you say.