Connect with us

Culture

The long climb back for Fernando Tatis, Jr., once the next 'face of baseball’

Published

on

The long climb back for Fernando Tatis, Jr., once the next 'face of baseball’

On May 20 in Atlanta, in the evening game of a doubleheader, Fernando Tatis, Jr. sped 84 feet across the outfield grass in Atlanta and crashed into the Truist Park fence to take away a hit from good friend Ronald Acuña, Jr. The impact knocked him to the ground, leaving significant scrapes.

“That’s the love for the game more than anything else,” Tatis told reporters about the catch afterward. “I knew it was going to hurt.”

Tatis, 25, has always played the game loud, uninhibited. Borderline reckless. He’s known for his leaping and diving catches, for dancing in the outfield and skipping around the bases and stealing home. In 2021, Tatis became the youngest player ever to grace the cover of “MLB the Show.” His jersey sales were among the league’s top three. Young fans tried to emulate his swing and his swagger, copying his epic bat flips and salivating over his shoes.

Tatis’ ever-changing cleats this season are flashy and fun, but the fact that he is a star without a shoe sponsorship deal is also a reminder of what else he is known for now. Two years ago, just months after he signed a 14-year, $340 million contract extension that set a record for a player who hadn’t yet reached salary arbitration, the league found the steroid Clostebol in his system. Tatis, who was on rehab assignment during the failed drug test, was suspended 80 games. He initially claimed the failed drug test was because of a treatment for ringworm, but later apologized for his actions and took accountability.

Once viewed as the future face of baseball, Tatis was immediately dropped by Adidas. Gatorade and Dairy Queen ads featuring him were pulled, and he acquired a new, unflattering label: steroid user.

Advertisement

Tatis, who was also coming off multiple surgeries, won a Platinum Gold Glove last season, his first in the outfield. But he struggled at the plate, hitting .257/.322/.449 with a 112 OPS+. On the road, Tatis was booed. On the national scale, baseball found other young stars to promote in the 564 days Tatis spent between big-league games.

This season, Tatis, the son of former big leaguer Fernando Tatis, still isn’t hitting as he once did — .244/.328/.412 through Wednesday. But his enthusiasm for the game has returned, and he is feeling more like himself.

“I actually love being under the radar,” Tatis, Jr. said in front of his locker this spring. Then, realizing how surprising that sounds, he dips his head back and cackles. “But also, we can’t deny ourselves.”


Tatis Jr. (homering against the Cubs in April) plays with flair, but off the field, he speaks so softly that teammates often strain to hear him. (Matt Thomas / San Diego Padres via Getty Images)

On the field, Tatis is responsible for some of the game’s most emphatic bat flips, often accompanied by yelling, jumping, or pounding his chest. Off of it, you have to strain to hear him. Behind the animated plays, Tatis is soft-spoken — “sweet,” as first-year Padres manager Mike Shildt puts it.

“I’ve always been quieter than my siblings,” said Tatis who is from San Pedro de Macorís, Dominican Republic. “I like to listen and to laugh.”

Advertisement

Tatis’ first steps in the big leagues were as a young child, following his dad in the clubhouse in Montreal, toting a tiny bat and taking swings on the field. In New York with the Mets, Sr. would take Jr. to the batting cages and encourage him to talk to the other big leaguers, players like Jose Reyes, Carlos Delgado and Angel Pagan. Tatis Sr. finished his career playing a few seasons in winter ball, and by then, Tatis Jr., already showing signs of being a star, was old enough to pay close attention and hone his skills.

In 2015, at age 16, he signed with the White Sox. They later traded him to the Padres, and by 2019, Manny Machado and then-Padres veteran Eric Hosmer were lobbying general manager A.J. Preller to bring Tatis up from the minors, saying that if the Padres were serious about winning, Tatis needed to be on the team. Preller listened, and Tatis’s career launched in a hurry.

Tatis finished third in NL Rookie of the Year voting that year despite appearing in only 84 games after a season-ending back injury. The following season, he finished fourth in the NL MVP race and was third in 2022. He was a two-time Silver Slugger, an All-Star in 2021, on the cover of “MLB The Show,” and he had his own colorway of Adidas’ Ultra Boost running shoe.

“It was a lot,” Tatis said, looking back at his first few years in the league. “It was a lot more than baseball. I don’t want to say I got misguided, but sometimes I got a little bit distracted.”

Then it all came crashing down. When the news became public that Tatis had tested positive for a performance-enhancing drug, he was at Double-A San Antonio on rehab assignment for a broken wrist from a motorcycle accident suffered in the Dominican during the offseason. The injury occurred during baseball’s lockout, when teams were prohibited from talking to players. Tatis showed up to spring training with the wrist still sore, and a subsequent MRI confirmed the fracture. He was on the cusp of returning when the suspension was levied.

Advertisement

Reaction to the suspension was swift and visceral. Tatis’ bobblehead night was canceled, his presence almost immediately scrubbed from team videos on the JumboTron. A giant mural of Tatis on Petco Park’s exterior was taken down. The guy baseball couldn’t get enough of was nowhere to be found.

“It’s not an easy situation, reputationally. People are going to make judgments,” Preller said. “He’s had to deal with that in the last couple years.”

When Tatis reported to spring training last year, he was still suspended, but was able to train with the team. He went to work with Padres outfield coach David Macias, who helped Tatis make the transition from shortstop to right field, a move precipitated by the hope that having less action and fewer collisions would keep Tatis, who has had multiple shoulder dislocations and several other injuries in his short career, healthier.

When he returned on April 20, 2023, Tatis — now in right field — had a front-row seat to fans’ hostility. Teammate Nelson Cruz, who was suspended 50 games in 2013 for his involvement in the Biogenesis scandal, became a voice of support, as did Machado. Padres pitcher Joe Musgrove, one of the handful of veterans Tatis first addressed his suspension with, said teammates were quick to move on. But, he told Tatis, eventually he needed to forgive himself.

“You can’t let it linger over your head, ‘I’m known as this cheater and this guy that took steroids and I have to act a certain way,’” Musgrove said. “It’s over. Now move on so you can be the player that you were before the steroid use. He was unbelievable before any of that happened. I continue to believe that he’s going to be a great player after.”

Advertisement

In 141 games in 2023, Tatis was a great defender — second among outfielders in Defensive Runs Saved (+27) and Ultimate Zone Rating (+12.3) — but he was a more pedestrian hitter.

This past offseason, Tatis returned to the Dominican Republic, and for the first time since he became a big leaguer he played winter ball, returning to his former team, Estrellas Orientales in Lidom. His coach? His father. Though he only played in a few winter ball games, Tatis put on an offensive show reminiscent of his best days.

“I needed that. I needed to play again,” said Tatis.

Said Machado, “It’s given him a chip on his shoulder heading into (this season), which I don’t think is a bad thing.”

Tatis entered spring training more vocal with teammates and in meetings, more confident, free of the uncertainty of how his presence would be perceived.

Advertisement

“I told him, ‘we’re going to win with you being more outspoken,’” Machado said. “’We need you, people look up to you. If you use your voice, you’re going to lead us in the right direction.’ And he’s been doing it ever since the offseason. He’s definitely matured in a big way.”

Asked what he’s learned the past two years, Tatis said, “things are never as bad as they seem.”

The Padres are asking Tatis to cover more ground in his second season as an outfielder, a way to better utilize his athleticism and also help rookie center fielder Jackson Merrill. In the early going, Tatis has experimented with playing closer to centerfield and deeper.

“He’s going to be able to change the game, robbing home runs and making really athletic plays where he’s leaping over the wall or jumping off it acrobatically,” Macias said. “There’s just not a lot of players like him in the game.”

Tatis’ offense, he and his teammates believe, will eventually return to its peak.

Advertisement

“The field is like his playground,” said Macias, who was impressed that Tatis took live reps in batting practice before every game last year, an unusual habit in the big leagues. “He’s always trying to create something and he’s never content. He wants to master everything, and because of that you are going to keep seeing a better Tati.”

If 2023 was the Redemption Tour, 2024 feels like it can be about baseball again for Tatis. Even after his suspension, Tatis is still one of the more marketable players in baseball. He’s charismatic, Latino in a sport where nearly half of its players are born outside the U.S., speaks perfect English and plays with a showman’s flair. He has already added new partnerships this year, appearing in an Opening Day ad for Corona and securing a deal with Champs, with a handful of other potential companies being discussed.

For all the ups and downs Tatis’ career has seen, he’s still only 25.

“He’s how old?” Musgrove said.

Cronenworth, 30, laughed when Tatis’s age is mentioned, then said: “I feel like he should be closer to my age.”

Advertisement

Tatis says he does want to be the face of baseball again, or to at least be in that conversation, but only because that would mean he’s playing at an All-Star level. And along the way, he believes that fans will come to see that there’s more to him below the surface.

“There is still a lot that people don’t know about me,” he said this spring, before grabbing his glove and heading out to the field. “It will come out with time.”

(Top image: John Bradford / The Athletic; Photos: Rob Tringali / Getty Images)

Culture

Finding Wisdom in a Poem by Wendy Cope

Published

on

Finding Wisdom in a Poem by Wendy Cope

Advertisement

Where do you turn when you need advice? A chatbot? A life coach? A wise and trusted friend?

How about a poet? Poets may not be famous for making the best life choices, but because they subject the mess of human existence to the discipline of language, they can be as helpful as any therapist or mentor.

Good poets know the rules and when to break them, which is something they can teach the rest of us.

Advertisement

To wit:

Giving advice is a peculiar literary undertaking. It flourishes in certain popular genres — graduation speeches, newspaper columns, country and western songs and poems like this one — but what, in these contexts, is it really for?

Advertisement

I’m thinking of situations when you don’t urgently need help but nonetheless enjoy reading answers to questions you may not have thought to ask. What interests you isn’t the content of the advice — you could get all the life hacks you want from A.I. — so much as the voice of the person dispensing it.

Wendy Cope is an English poet, born in 1945, who has been a fixture of her country’s literary scene since the 1980s. More recently, her short, buoyant poem “The Orange” has been widely memed online, bringing her to the attention of new readers beyond Britain.

Advertisement

Cope favors rhyme, meter, brisk jokes and tart aperçus. She addresses romance, friendship and the petty absurdities of modern life with disarming good humor. The last line of “The Orange” is “I love you. I’m glad I exist.” Somehow she makes it the opposite of cringe.

This isn’t the kind of poetry you would describe as “confessional.” And yet …

Want to learn this poem by heart? We’ll help.

Advertisement

Fill in the missing words below. You can always refer to the reading by A.O. Scott and full
text above.

Question 1/7

Let’s start with the first stanza.

Advertisement

Stop, if the car is going clunk 

Or if the sun has made you blind. 

Dont answer emails when youre drunk. 

Advertisement

Tap a word above to fill in the highlighted blank.

Advertisement

Continue Reading

Culture

Can You Match the Places These Authors Lived With Settings in Their Books?

Published

on

Can You Match the Places These Authors Lived With Settings in Their Books?

A strong sense of place can deeply influence a story, and in some cases, the setting can even feel like a character itself. This week’s literary geography quiz highlights places where authors were born (or lived) that later became locations in their books. To play, just make your selection in the multiple-choice list and the correct answer will be revealed. At the end of the quiz, you’ll find links to the works if you’d like to do further reading.

Continue Reading

Culture

Book Review: ‘America, U.S.A.,’ by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.

Published

on

Book Review: ‘America, U.S.A.,’ by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.

AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries, by Eddie S. Glaude Jr.


For those of us in the national memory-keeping business, anniversaries hold near-totemic power. Satisfyingly round units of time, ideally bearing fancy, Latin-derived names, serve as the overburdened pegs on which to hang think pieces and museum exhibits, revisionist documentaries and maudlin public ceremonies. The arbitrary nature of such occasions is precisely what gives them their charge, inviting us to set aside complacency and submit to a comprehensive check-in.

In his new book, “America, U.S.A.,” Eddie S. Glaude Jr. presents an intriguing variation on the genre, seeing the country’s 250th birthday as an anniversary of anniversaries: 50 years since the malaise-ridden, schlock-heavy Bicentennial. A century since the subdued Prohibition-era Sesquicentennial. A century and a half since telegraphed reports of George Armstrong Custer’s defeat by the Lakota and Cheyenne at Little Bighorn rudely interrupted the Gilded Age Republic’s 100th birthday party.

If an anniversary offers a snapshot of a moment, the core of Glaude’s book is an old-timey photo album, a collection of notable episodes from earlier national reckonings, long-ago glances in the mirror. An estimable scholar of Black history, politics and religion at Princeton — best known for “Begin Again,” his 2020 meditation on James Baldwin’s relevance for our times — Glaude focuses, as his subtitle puts it, on “how race shadows the nation’s anniversaries.”

Such celebrations, he contends, have never really been the moments for honest self-reflection they are often advertised to be. Instead, the nation usually shatters the mirror, refusing to accept what it prefers not to see. “American anniversaries are often moments to turn a blind eye to the evils of the past and the present,” Glaude writes, “to suppress the fact of America’s divided soul.”

Advertisement

It’s a clever concept, and, needless to say, perfectly timed. Last year, Glaude notes, the Trump administration executed a hostile takeover of the government’s studiously bipartisan 250th anniversary planning. It is now preparing a program that is certain to conceal more than it reveals about the country ostensibly being celebrated.

Glaude, in no mood for celebration, argues that such omissions and evasions also defined commemorations in the past. In 1875, Frederick Douglass predicted “one grand Centennial hosannah of peace and good will to all the white race of this country.” He was right: The nation reached 100 years old at a crucial moment in the post-Civil War fight over racial equality, with white Northerners ready to give up on Southern Reconstruction. The occasion would help the once-warring sections to reunite around a shared commitment to white supremacy. On May 10, 1876, at the opening of the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, the police tried to bar Douglass from the grandstand, until a white politician vouched for him.

The 150th anniversary came soon after a resurgent Ku Klux Klan successfully pushed for a restrictive immigration law aimed at keeping America a “Nordic” nation. At the lavishly funded, lightly attended celebrations in Philadelphia, Black veterans of World War I were excluded from marching in the opening parade. A writer with The Associated Negro Press wondered “what was in the breast of those black men who fought to make America safe for Democracy and on Monday stood on the sidelines, forgotten, as the Nordic strode by in all his vain pride.”

By 1976, when the nation marked its Bicentennial, the violence of the ’60s had destroyed any semblance of consensus. Vietnam and Watergate had eroded trust in the government. The commission initially tasked with organizing the anniversary was disbanded amid reports of corruption. Corporations filled the vacuum, Glaude explains, with “star-spangled whoopee cushions; patriotic toilet seats; Liberty hamburgers; red, white and blue beer cans.” The author, around 8 years old at the time, dimly remembers donning a pair of tricolor trousers.

A half-century later, Glaude is refreshingly honest about the depths of his despair. “I do not love America, and never have, especially now,” he writes in one of the more startling opening sentences I’ve read in some time. He dismisses this year’s Semiquincentennial as reaching back “to a storybook America that requires either the banishment of Black people from view or the reduction of our role in the country’s history, so as to affirm America’s ongoing quest to be a more perfect union.”

Advertisement

Undoubtedly true. But Trump doesn’t own the country, at least not yet, nor the 250th anniversary of one of the most radically liberatory and confusingly contradictory events in world history — an inspiration, as Glaude shows, even to critical observers of the American experiment, like Douglass. Far from the revanchist MAGA-palooza in Washington, I suspect this summer’s unasked-for invitation to national soul-searching may surprise us yet.

Despite his despair, Glaude concludes that “the past still offers resources for us to freedom-dream.” So, too, does this book.


AMERICA, U.S.A.: How Race Shadows the Nation’s Anniversaries | By Eddie S. Glaude Jr. | Crown | 270 pp. | $31

Continue Reading
Advertisement

Trending