Mike Clevinger was with the Eastlake Indians on Sunday trying to pitch his way back into the big leagues, while I was at Wrigley Field trying to cover a White Sox game on my laptop while sitting in the media quarantine section.
As one of the best pitchers in the American League, Clevinger could rightly claim he belonged with the Cleveland Indians in their series in Detroit. As a baiduhai reporter and 31-year member of the Baseball Writers Association of America, I could rightly claim I belonged with the rest of the local writers in the press box at White Sox Park.
But these are strange times, in case you haven’t noticed, so Clevinger and I were both in the wrong place Sunday because of alleged violations of COVID-19 rules being made on the fly.
That’s why I watched the Sox hit four straight home runs off the Cardinals while sitting in the upper deck at Wrigley Field, while Clevinger was doing who knows what with the rest of the Indians’ taxi squadders somewhere in Eastlake, Ohio.
Clevinger’s violation was going out for dinner with teammate Zach Plesac in Chicago on Aug. 8 after Plesac beat the White Sox at the same ballpark I’m currently not allowed inside of. Security caught Plesac coming back to the team hotel, therefore violating the new MLB protocols put in place after the COVID-19 outbreaks by the Marlins and Cardinals.
For some unexplained reason, Clevinger, whose distinctly long hair makes a terrible disguise, was able to get back to the hotel without notice.
Plesac was sent back to Cleveland in a rental car when the Indians found out he violated protocols. Clevinger defended his friend in a team meeting, though he declined to mention the fact he was actually with him.
As it turned out, Indians players, like other teams, had a code of conduct they wrote before the 2020 restart, which Clevinger later explained like this:
“I think the thing we decided that was cool is that this isn’t going to be a ‘run to daddy’ kind of thing. We’re going to handle it in-house. It will be a player-discipline thing. We’re going to keep the coaches and front office kind of out of it. It just puts a little extra accountability (on players) because having that trust in your teammates is a big thing. It’s a big thing for being on the field. If you know your team doesn’t trust you off the field, how are they going to feel they can trust you when you get between the lines?”
But someone ran to daddy and fingered Clevinger for violating the rules along with Plesac. But that was after Clevinger flew back to Cleveland with the team, potentially infecting teammates if he had contacted the coronavirus on his night out in Chicago.
Making matters worse, Plesac videotaped himself in his car excusing his behavior, maintaining he was socially distancing with friends during the big night out and blaming the big, bad media for his situation. He then posted it on his Instagram, which is what millennials do when they feel they need to be heard.
The backlash was severe.
“I’m not sure Zach was able to convey what he intended to convey in the video after having a chance to speak with him afterwards,” Indians president Chris Antonetti said. “I think if he had a do-over, he may have said things a bit differently.”
There are no do-overs on YouTube, so Plesac’s rant, which he later took off Instagram, will forever be remembered as the first cautionary tale of the 2020 pandemic season.
Another team meeting was held, and afterward Antonetti reacted by sending Plesac and Clevinger to their Eastlake training site, season be damned.
In normal times, the players union would file a grievance and fight the demotion. But with health and safety protocols involved and teammates upset with both players, no action has been taken. The Indians are willing to sacrifice their postseason to make a statement about the need to follow protocols — even as both pitchers reportedly tested negative, so kudos to them.
The White Sox, meanwhile, denied credentials to myself and other media members requesting to cover the Cardinals in their return to baseball from a 17-day layoff. Missouri is a state on Mayor Lori Lightfoot’s quarantine list, and the Sox insisted their rules were more stringent. But the Cardinals players and coaches were granted an exemption to enter the ballpark in spite of their recent history of being in a COVID-19 hotpot — namely their clubhouse.
In other words, athletes are no problem. But writers? Lock the door.
It should also be noted as a Tribune reporter, I’m granted “essential worker” status in Illinois during the coronavirus emergency, a designation the Sox conveniently ignored.
MLB refused to intervene on behalf of the Baseball Writers Association of America, while acknowledging another reporter from a state on the quarantine list had been credentialed by the Sox earlier. The BBWAA also was toothless, and even the president (uh, me) was of no use.
Can I call for my own impeachment?
Anyway, that’s how I came to this unusual moment in time — being forced to cover a Sox game played on the South Side while streaming Xfinity on my MacBook Air at Wrigley and listening to announcer Jason Benetti describe “another absolute blitzkrieg” by Sox hitters.
It doesn’t get much weirder.
Fortunately, several of the writers banned by the Sox have been credentialed for the upcoming Cubs-Cardinals series at Wrigley. We’ll all be sitting 6 feet apart in an isolated section of the upper deck, with fake crowd noise blasting through our ears and making noise-cancelling headphones useless — just like normal.
I hope to see Clevinger back with the Indians soon, strutting his stuff on the mound and proudly flying his freak flag. And hopefully I’ll be allowed back inside Sox Park after my 14 days of quarantine are up, so I can cover the team during this unprecedented and fascinating season.
The moral of the story?
Never get off the couch.