Tweet
So which one was it, Moises?
And the Tribune article...
And the Tribune article...
Alou never let Bartman off hook
Mike Downey IN THE WAKE OF THE NEWS
June 3, 2008
I told my boss. I told friends. I told colleagues. I said it on radio shows.
I tried to find Moises Alou myself for a day or two, but I failed and then I forgot and I let it slide.
Alou had "publicly" cleared Cubs fan Steve Bartman, it kept being reported and repeated.
"No, he didn't," I said.
The Associated Press had run "an interview" with Alou about the 2003 Bartman incident.
"No, it didn't," I said.
After "waiting" 41/2 years, Alou had finally "come forward" to take Bartman off the hook.
"No, he didn't," I kept harping to anybody who would listen.
Coast to coast, it snowballed.
A story from Major League Baseball's Web site, April 2 of this year: "Bartman exonerated by Alou admissions," according to "an interview with the Associated Press."
No, he said it on an elevator.
This one from the Tribune: "Steve Bartman not to blame, Moises Alou says 5 years later."
No, it was last summer.
Meanwhile, Alou doesn't admit to saying anything of the kind.
In an actual interview a few days ago with Joe Carpozzi of the Palm Beach (Fla.) Post, the 41-year-old ex-Cub insists he would indeed have caught that infamous Oct. 14, 2003, foul ball at Wrigley Field had a fan not interfered with it.
Exactly as he has been saying all along.
As for being quoted by the Associated Press as saying quite the opposite—"You know what the funny thing is? I wouldn't have caught it anyway"—here is what Alou has to say:
"I don't remember that. If I said that, I was probably joking to make [Bartman] feel better. But I don't remember saying that."
If the AP's Jim Litke says he said it, you can take it to the bank that he said it. Litke is one of the very best people in this business.
Besides, there are witnesses.
"Two of Moises' friends were on the elevator with him at the time," Litke told me when I touched base with him Monday.
So were the columnist's two sons.
They were at a Macy's department store in New York. It was in the summer of 2007. As soon as he saw Alou on the elevator, Litke says he introduced himself.
And then the writer's youngest son, a Cubs fan, could not resist:
"[Bleep] Bartman," he said.
A conversation thus having been struck up, Alou, according to Litke, said this: "Everywhere I play, even now, people still yell 'Bartman! Bartman!' I feel really bad for the kid."
Followed by: "You know what the funny thing is? I wouldn't have caught it anyway."
Litke's other son then told Alou: "Sure you would have."
And that was that.
So why did the AP writer do a story on it? Why make such a big deal out of it?
He didn't.
Months passed. Litke did not write a word about it. It was a funny moment on a Manhattan elevator with Alou, who now plays for the Mets, and no more. He and his boys got a laugh or two out of it, end of story.
But then on March 31 of this year, Litke wrote a long essay on 100 years of Cubs bad luck. It ran in USA Today and scores of other publications.
In the 29th paragraph—repeat, 29 paragraphs into the piece—Litke recounted the elevator anecdote. It was not the focus of his story by any means. It wasn't in the headline AP put on it. It wasn't presented as any kind of revelation or Alou admission.
But others picked it up and ran with it.
TV shows, radio hosts, etc., raked Alou over the coals. I caught countless references in the media as if the player had finally come forward to change his tune.
Alou took a beating.
On the Internet, I found insight like this.
"And suddenly, perhaps stricken by guilt, Alou has decided to alter his view on what really happened."
"Moises Alou's admission comes about 41/2 years too late."
"Alou's timing leaves much to be desired."
A guy named Jeff Kallman from a site called Sports Central compared Alou to "a spineless neighbor coming forward five years after the fact to say he'd seen someone other than the doctor murder the doctor's wife."
Alou didn't do anything.
"He said it, yes," Litke told me Monday, "but he probably did it just to be a nice guy to a couple of Cub fans in an elevator."
I tried to contact Alou in early April after I heard him being ripped for the "I wouldn't have caught it" quote, but he was in Florida rehabbing from an injury. I left a message for him with the Mets and then forgot all about it.
Then, on a national radio show a week ago, the host asked me on the air: "So what do you think of Moises Alou waiting five years to go to the media and change his story about that foul ball?"
"No, he didn't," I said.
"Yes, he did," the host said.
No, he did not.
Mike Downey IN THE WAKE OF THE NEWS
June 3, 2008
I told my boss. I told friends. I told colleagues. I said it on radio shows.
I tried to find Moises Alou myself for a day or two, but I failed and then I forgot and I let it slide.
Alou had "publicly" cleared Cubs fan Steve Bartman, it kept being reported and repeated.
"No, he didn't," I said.
The Associated Press had run "an interview" with Alou about the 2003 Bartman incident.
"No, it didn't," I said.
After "waiting" 41/2 years, Alou had finally "come forward" to take Bartman off the hook.
"No, he didn't," I kept harping to anybody who would listen.
Coast to coast, it snowballed.
A story from Major League Baseball's Web site, April 2 of this year: "Bartman exonerated by Alou admissions," according to "an interview with the Associated Press."
No, he said it on an elevator.
This one from the Tribune: "Steve Bartman not to blame, Moises Alou says 5 years later."
No, it was last summer.
Meanwhile, Alou doesn't admit to saying anything of the kind.
In an actual interview a few days ago with Joe Carpozzi of the Palm Beach (Fla.) Post, the 41-year-old ex-Cub insists he would indeed have caught that infamous Oct. 14, 2003, foul ball at Wrigley Field had a fan not interfered with it.
Exactly as he has been saying all along.
As for being quoted by the Associated Press as saying quite the opposite—"You know what the funny thing is? I wouldn't have caught it anyway"—here is what Alou has to say:
"I don't remember that. If I said that, I was probably joking to make [Bartman] feel better. But I don't remember saying that."
If the AP's Jim Litke says he said it, you can take it to the bank that he said it. Litke is one of the very best people in this business.
Besides, there are witnesses.
"Two of Moises' friends were on the elevator with him at the time," Litke told me when I touched base with him Monday.
So were the columnist's two sons.
They were at a Macy's department store in New York. It was in the summer of 2007. As soon as he saw Alou on the elevator, Litke says he introduced himself.
And then the writer's youngest son, a Cubs fan, could not resist:
"[Bleep] Bartman," he said.
A conversation thus having been struck up, Alou, according to Litke, said this: "Everywhere I play, even now, people still yell 'Bartman! Bartman!' I feel really bad for the kid."
Followed by: "You know what the funny thing is? I wouldn't have caught it anyway."
Litke's other son then told Alou: "Sure you would have."
And that was that.
So why did the AP writer do a story on it? Why make such a big deal out of it?
He didn't.
Months passed. Litke did not write a word about it. It was a funny moment on a Manhattan elevator with Alou, who now plays for the Mets, and no more. He and his boys got a laugh or two out of it, end of story.
But then on March 31 of this year, Litke wrote a long essay on 100 years of Cubs bad luck. It ran in USA Today and scores of other publications.
In the 29th paragraph—repeat, 29 paragraphs into the piece—Litke recounted the elevator anecdote. It was not the focus of his story by any means. It wasn't in the headline AP put on it. It wasn't presented as any kind of revelation or Alou admission.
But others picked it up and ran with it.
TV shows, radio hosts, etc., raked Alou over the coals. I caught countless references in the media as if the player had finally come forward to change his tune.
Alou took a beating.
On the Internet, I found insight like this.
"And suddenly, perhaps stricken by guilt, Alou has decided to alter his view on what really happened."
"Moises Alou's admission comes about 41/2 years too late."
"Alou's timing leaves much to be desired."
A guy named Jeff Kallman from a site called Sports Central compared Alou to "a spineless neighbor coming forward five years after the fact to say he'd seen someone other than the doctor murder the doctor's wife."
Alou didn't do anything.
"He said it, yes," Litke told me Monday, "but he probably did it just to be a nice guy to a couple of Cub fans in an elevator."
I tried to contact Alou in early April after I heard him being ripped for the "I wouldn't have caught it" quote, but he was in Florida rehabbing from an injury. I left a message for him with the Mets and then forgot all about it.
Then, on a national radio show a week ago, the host asked me on the air: "So what do you think of Moises Alou waiting five years to go to the media and change his story about that foul ball?"
"No, he didn't," I said.
"Yes, he did," the host said.
No, he did not.
Comment