At age 25, with his progress being measured by quantum leaps and so much happening so fast, Frank Thomas needn’t be steeped in baseball history to comprehend what Wednesday night’s American League most valuable player award means.
All that’s required is a 24-hour recall back to Tuesday night, when the bookend honor in the National League went to Barry Bonds of the San Francisco Giants. It was his third such honor-and counting.
Upon signing a $43-plus million contract, Bonds could have merely counted his money, as do so many of the nouveau riche in sports, and conveniently forgotten the other part of the bargain. Big ticket items tend do to concern themselves with ways of spending that kind of cash instead of earning it.
But Bonds opted to be different. He batted .336, knocked in 123 runs and hit 46 homers toward a dream season during which he led the Giants to 103 victories. Bonds, no graduate of charm school, didn’t have to curry any favor with critics. They were too busy casting well-earned votes in his behalf.
For the way he carries himself, Thomas might be the most popular and admired player in either league. The real role models are the ones who don’t stand before a mirror every morning and think about it. “The Big Hurt” isn’t likely to be done in by the big head. Thomas doesn’t have to polish his image, only his skills. That’s all. And that’s enough.
The mission for Frank Thomas, just the eighth unanimous choice as most valuable player, is to become an even more valuable player.
Nothing should block his path. He has agreed to a four-year extension worth a guaranteed $29 million, which equates to a per annum salary barely below Bonds’. Thomas is the best player on a young and talented White Sox club that’s been installed as the off-season favorite to win next season’s pennant by oddsmakers in Las Vegas, land of parimutuels and paragliders. When computers digested statistical data of all major-leaguers in 1993, Thomas was ranked first at his or any other position.
And then came Wednesday night.
“The highlight of my career,” said Thomas at Comiskey Park. “But you’re only as good as your last game, and we lost that one.”
Thomas’ desire is in the right place, but so must he be-and that’s first base. The notion of him being a designated hitter is wild and best dismissed immediately. He can be too complete a player at 28 to be cast as half a player at 25, but only if and when he becomes as comfortable with the glove as he is the bat.
He has worked tirelessly to improve defensively, but Wednesday night was not the end. On the contrary, spring training is another beginning.
At the plate, Thomas is an uncanny man of vision. He sees the ball as only a few gifted hitters do. There is no gray area to his strike zone, only white bordered by the black.
He is so finicky that the bat on his shoulder produced 112 walks, all things considered not a bad form of damage control for an opposing pitcher mindful that the Sox lineup could support him better. The debate rages. Would Thomas be even more dangerous were he slightly less selective? The hunch here is yes.
Thomas says there’s no pressure on him, and in a sense, he’s correct. He has all the security he’ll ever want, and there’s no cause to re-invent himself because fame and fortune have occurred so rapidly.
Thomas is a careful, thinking athlete who strives for absolute perfection. But the season is too long to presume optimum conditions will always exist, and maybe it’s a warning when Thomas says he will think seriously about being more aggressive. Great hitters, and he’s one, have been known to drive the pitcher’s pitch to the gap, too.
That’s the wondrous world of Frank Thomas, 25. The Big Hurt can play through little hurts now, try a bit of recklessness, and tap into that next level of genius without sacrificing his goal to be the best he can be.
His foremost asset remains his potential, a scary thought if he reaches it and a scary thought if he doesn’t.
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