I seem to remember Baggarly writing a story or two about recently departed Giants catcher A. J. Pierzynski being a clubhouse cancer. Well, according to the San Francisco Chronicle, one of the many elements in A. J.’s clubhouse-cancerness was this:
One of those now-it-can-be-told stories the White Sox, A.J. Pierzynski’s new employer, surely haven’t heard: During a Giants exhibition game last spring, Pierzynski took a shot to his, shall we say, private parts. Trainer Stan Conte rushed to the scene, placed his hands on Pierzynski’s shoulders in a reassuring way, and asked how it felt. “Like this,” said Pierzynski, viciously delivering a knee to Conte’s groin. It was a real test of professionalism for the enraged Conte, who vowed to ignore Pierzynski for the rest of the season until Conte realized how that would look. The incident went unreported because all of the beat writers happened to be doing in-game interviews in the clubhouse, but it was corroborated by a half-dozen eyewitnesses who could hardly believe their eyes. Said one source, as reliable as they come: “There is absolutely no doubt that it happened.”
Can you get prickier?
That kind of behavior would go a long way towards explaining why a catcher with a career line of .294/.336/.438 isn’t valued more highly. He should fit right in on the White Sox, a team Batgirl described once as being so unpleasant that, if you traded every player, they’d still have a character problem.
Steve: What a payoff for checking in. You think a catcher wouldn’t be such a pussy in the first place.
Levi: You know, now I can picture what Mike Matheny’s agent told Brian Sabean: “Sure, Mike won’t hit for shit. But I guarantee you he won’t knee the trainer in the balls, either.”
That’s how you get 3 years/$12 million.