The Chicago Cubs and the New Baseball – The Atlantic
Maybe most representative of the new tenets of team-building, though, are a pair of players the Cubs added during the offseason with the goal of jumping from contenders to champions. Jason Heyward hit a modest 13 home runs last year, but he plays the best right field in baseball, gliding in every direction, making difficult catches seem ordinary by the precision of his routes. Ben Zobrist, last seen helping the Kansas City Royals win the World Series, will usually play second base but is comfortable almost anywhere on the diamond. This versatility, combined with an abbot’s patience at the plate, earned him Maddon’s admiration in Tampa, where Zobrist began his career. A short while ago, these two players might have been pet favorites of baseball’s burgeoning intelligentsia, their quieter skills mostly overlooked in an era when money and acclaim generally followed the ability to hit a ball high and hard. This winter, the Cubs signed them to contracts worth nearly a quarter of a billion dollars combined.
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Even fans without a particular interest in the historical aspect may well find themselves enamored with this Chicago team as the 2016 season unfolds, owing to its approach instead of its potential streak-ending significance. The Cubs offer something for nearly every preference. The pitching aficionado will enjoy the work of Arrieta, whose grim stare and heavy black beard brings to mind a hardened Arctic sea captain and who pitches in a manner that fits the image. Devotees of the long ball in its current, post-steroidal form will have something to watch every time the Cubs’ batting order nears the middle, where Rizzo and Bryant wait to bash any pitcher’s error into the Wrigley Field bleachers. Defense, too, figures to be on display, with Zobrist and Russell teaming up for clever double plays and Heyward snaring balls that looked like sure hits leaving the bat. And for the type of fan inclined to obsess over lineup orders, positional platoons, and defensive shifts, the ever-tinkering Maddon will make a fine stand-in.
The task of a club is not to pursue balance, of course; it is to win. In putting together the 2016 Cubs, Epstein no more honored the game’s variety than he did when assembling those comparatively one-note 2004 Red Sox. He simply tried to make his team as good as it could be, and in the present climate, the best teams tend to be the most resourceful.
Regardless of intention, this Chicago team does reflect a new health in certain recently ignored areas of baseball aesthetics. Where there was once a dichotomy—the rich teams loading up on power, the rest trying whatever guerrilla tactics might let them compete—there’s now a fully filled-in stylistic spectrum. Last year’s World Series was contested by the Royals, who trade in base hits and abundant speed and team defense, and the New York Mets, driven by a cavalcade of variously gifted young starting pitchers. Had a couple balls bounced differently over the course of October, the Series might have featured teams built on prodigious infield play or the now-retro homer-hunting model. More than at any point in the 21st century, baseball is awash with distinct approaches, all stemming from a common commitment to valuing a player’s contributions in whatever form they may take.
It’s fitting, then, that the team predicted to be this year’s best should have versatility as its benchmark. If the Cubs look strong through the summer, the talk among baseball fans will inevitably center on thwarted curses and realized dreams, and if they advance deep into the postseason, that talk will spread to most everyone with access to a newspaper or television. The stakes are of the sort that can set a team apart even among the company of fellow champions. The fun of these Cubs, though, is much the same as the fun of baseball as a whole in this blooming, curious period. They are bold and nuanced, audaciously talented and carefully built. They’ll crush late-inning homers and work quiet walks. They’ll play the game any way you like.