Two weeks after the Braves’ playoff exit, with few people around to witness the moment, Brian McCann made his way from his home in Suwanee to his recent workplace of Turner Field to clean out his locker.
After eight-plus seasons in the majors, the closure this year was different. The funk that generally hovers over the season-ending ritual of throwing one’s belongings into boxes or garbage bags was complicated by the reality of an uncertain future.
“It almost didn’t hit me until that last game that that was it … that this could be it,” McCann said Saturday, determined at the end of that comment to leave the door open for a possibility for a return to the Braves. “The season flew by. It really wasn’t until on that flight home after the last game that I really thought about the situation. And then for the next couple of weeks I definitely thought about it. The reality was sinking in.”
It has been a rewarding, even if somewhat awkward, weekend for McCann. The Rally Foundation, which raises awareness and funding for child cancer research and with whom McCann has been affiliated with since 2007, raised a half-million dollars at an event Friday night. McCann also hosted a celebrity softball game and fundraiser Saturday at the Gwinnett Braves’ home, Coolray Field in Lawrenceville, not far from where he grew up in Duluth.
This is his home. This is his charity. That never will change, even if his employer likely will.
McCann is a free agent for the first time in his career. He almost certainly will play for another team next year, likely in the American League, where he can be used in a dual role as a catcher and designated hitter. Boston, Texas, the New York Yankees — they all will make longer term, richer contract offers than the Braves will. McCann’s love for his hometown, the organization and his teammates won’t allow him to dismiss the possibility of coming back, but he also understands the reality of the situation.
“It’s happens to 99 percent of the players,” he said. “There’s only a select few who get to play in one city their whole career.”
Chipper Jones was one. Brian McCann should be another.
One reason he likely won’t be is because the Braves have burned millions on B.J. Upton and Dan Uggla and the financial hangover isn’t nearly over.
The organization is pinning hopes on the collective futures of Evan Gattis and prospect Christhian Bethancourt. Both come cheaply. But neither has the proven ability to handle a major league pitching staff. Neither commands the respect in a clubhouse that already is painfully weak of leadership. Neither has McCann’s resume or would leave the relative black hole in the organization that he will.
McCann never has been a problem. He generally has been the solution. His name never has come up in a drug investigation, a flunked test or on a police blotter, and I feel safe in projecting never will. He is the guy that other organizations want.
In sports today, too many people, particularly fans and media, have short memories. Trade him, bench him, fire him. The commands roll off the tongues and Twitter streams too quickly. Somebody gets injured, struggles for a year or two, and suddenly he is deemed disposable.
Perspective has been lost.
McCann was 17 when he was drafted out of Duluth High School. He was 21 when he made his major league debut. In his first game, he had two hits, a walk and an RBI. In his second game, he homered and caught a complete-game victory by a future Hall of Famer, John Smoltz, who then told McCann, “You’re now my catcher.”
“All of my buddies are juniors in college and then one day I’m catching John Smoltz at Turner Field,” McCann said. “It was surreal. Everything happened so fast for me.”
In 2006, McCann’s first full season, he went to the All-Star game. Then he went to six more. He became the first player in franchise history to go to All-Star games in his first three seasons. And then first four, five and six.
He was a part of the “Baby Braves,” a group that included the once-heralded Jeff Francoeur. Francoeur made the Sports Illustrated cover with the heading, “The Natural.”
McCann slipped in the back door. He’s the one who merely proved to be a natural.
“I think we’ve been paying attention to the wrong guy,” Pendleton said one day.
“For some reason I was able to fly under the radar,” McCann said. “I see now what some of these guys go through. I saw Jason Heyward in 2010 and the attention that he got. I don’t wish that upon anybody. You go 0-for-4, and everybody is questioning you.”
If this was to be McCann’s ending in Atlanta, it came with sparks. He was the player who blocked the plate against Milwaukee’s Carlos Gomez for showboating after a home run. He also got into the face of Florida’s Jose Fernandez. McCann came to the defense of his pitcher, Julio Teheran, after Bryce Harper was plunked by a pitch.
He exuded leadership and became the great protector. Who wouldn’t want that fire on their team?
Jones was a Braves lifer, but the circumstances were different. General manager Frank Wren felt backlash after the messy handling of Smoltz’s and Tom Glavine’s departures. He also felt the Braves needed Jones’ bat, and the team’s budget constraints weren’t quite as severe then as now.
Now the Braves don’t have the money. It could be argued they also haven’t had the foresight.
McCann obviously is emotional about the likely separation, but not bitter.
“Not many people get to say they played in their hometown, and I got to do it for nine years,” he said. “If this is it, I’ve been very blessed.”
I brought up the memory of catching the first game with Smoltz on the mound, then asked McCann his favorite moment as a Brave. It’s not what you would think — a hit, a home run, an All-Star game.
“Winning the division this year,” he said. “The organization won 14 in a row and then missed the playoffs four years. I was a part of that rebuilding process. I was here when maybe a new streak was started.”
How many athletes say that going out the door? The Braves have no idea what they’re letting go of.
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