But there’s no way the White Sox will boot the boob out of their booth
For a while there, thanks to an easy opening homestand, the White Sox were in a tie for first in the AL Central (also tie for last, but we won’t mention that) because of some very good pitching, occasional long balls, and the division reverting to its historically incompetent self for a week. Two days on the road changed that, but it was fun while it lasted.
The 2-4 record was such a shock to some people that when MLB Trade Rumors did a poll on who readers thought would win the division, 12% said the Sox. Just goes to show those Russian bots are busy everywhere.
While most of the attention has naturally been on the team, and especially the first time out of the box for the starting pitching (second time hasn’t been quite so hot), it isn’t too early to also take into consideration the TV broadcasts of the games, particularly the work of one John Schriffen, who has also taken up right where he left off.
Schriffen, of course, had a rather inauspicious first year with the Sox in 2024 (see, just saying “inauspicious.” trying to be nice), from often not knowing what he was talking about to bizarre attacks on fan attitudes all the way up to trying to incite violence when Tommy Pham began to brawl over a collision Pham caused. That last should have gotten the announcer at least a 30-day suspension, but these are the White Sox, so nothing was done.
Schriffen has jumped right back into the moat this year, first when sideline reporter Brooke Fletcher said players told her one of the things they use to try to keep warm on frigid game days was baby oil. Naturally, being who he is, the play-by-play man then made a reference to P. Diddy, with whom the substance has a pop culture connection of a less than salubrious nature. Some might have thought a lighter side reference to charges of sex trafficking and abuse and related matters was best avoided, but apparently not Schriffen.
In internal communications, one SSS staffer said Schriffen seems to be appealing to the frat boy crowd, which is a good observation, given he has no recognizable sense of humor. But Schriffen isn’t reading the room, though, because as this resident near Wrigley Field who used to walk to work in the morning past Wrigley and Clark Street bars trying to slalom around the puke piles can attest, the overgrown frat boy crowd is overwhelmingly Cubs fans.
Anyhow, the baby oil remark blew over. But when Fletcher reported how a lot of the players regularly follow Pitching Ninja podcaster and national TV analyst Rob Friedman on Twitter a few days later, Schriffen blew off Fletcher and the players and Friedman, who has an enormous following, with “that won’t be my source.” (Almost immediately afterward, White Sox pitching maestro Brian Bannister sent out a message of support, in obvious but indirect reference to Schriffen’s gaffe.) That comment, oddly, was apparently a bridge too far, so Schriffen has apologized personally and online and with a long mea culpa in the booth so abject he would have been down on his knees if there was space — in all cases saying he wasn’t attacking ninjas of any type but rather Twitter, because he’s not on it.
Of course, the reason Schriffen’s not on it is that he’s so thin-skinned you can almost see his bones, and he didn’t like people tweeting him down last year. Given the nature of that medium, it’s certainly possible the derision went from the professional to the personal, so maybe he had fair reason, but still, it’s unusual for someone in the public eye to not want to hear from the public.
That’s the big stuff so far, and while there are bound to more major offenses of that sort, many will cover those things. Let us instead concentrate on very minor matters, picking a nit or two, starting with a minuscule nit indeed.
DO THEY TEACH ENGLISH AT DARTMOUTH?
Schriffen is an Ivy League grad, so you’d think he would have had to have had a basic grasp of the language to get through English 101. Or to get into English 101.
Call me a pedant (and you’ll be right), but he drives me nuts with his reference, every time a game is tied, to “we’re all tied up at two apiece.” I realize only I and a few retired Language Arts teachers probably even notice that dumb redundancy, but I guarantee that once you notice it, you’re stuck noticing it every time the White Sox manage to tie a game thereafter. It’s “all tied up at two,” John, or it’s 2-to-2, or two apiece. Susceptible young children are listening. Speak like you at least went to high school.
For a slightly bigger nit:
HOW ABOUT SAYING A PLAYER’S NAME RIGHT
New White Sox pitcher Martín Pérez not only has an accent over the first e in his surname on the White Sox roster, he’s listed that way in every reference from ESPN to Baseball Refeence to Wikipedia. That mark means the accent on the name goes the first syllable, and even if the mark were not there, the stress would be on the first syllable because standard Spanish pronunciation is to stress the next-to-last syllable.
Somehow the entire White Sox TV broadcast team can’t cope with that.
“Maybe they don’t read Wikipedia,” you say? Fair enough. “And maybe he doesn’t care,” you add. OK.
Thing is, though, Pérez has the accent over the first e on his jersey. Yep, right there between the name and the MLB logo. If it’s wrong, or he doesn’t care, why did he request his jersey be so made?
To see if the mispronunciation is just a Sox thing, I sought out interviews with Pérez on YouTube. First one I found was with Fletcher, who also incorrectly put the accent on the last syllable. But then I found one from his Rangers days, with the accent right where the accent mark says it should be.
I also learned Pérez is a mild-mannered, well-spoken man who maybe didn’t want to hassle anyone. But he should. Or somebody should do it for him. Which would be the case in a competent organization, which explains why it’s not being done by the Sox.
Of course, maybe Schriffen and Steve Stone have explained that Pérez told them he’d much prefer to have his name butchered and I missed it. In which case, my apologies.
Now for the really big nit.
WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO THE NATIONWIDE JINGLE?
Again in this case, perhaps this has been explained and I missed it, and apologies are again in order. If not, however — WTF?
For those who don’t get Sox games on TV, for several years now, at some point there’s been a commercial drop-in for the insurance company that ended with whoever was doing the telecast — usually Stone and Jason Benetti, but whoever was subbing and then, last year, Schriffen. Given how horrible the team has been, it was a program highlight, with the singers have fun with it and admitting how bad they are.
This year, the ad is there, but no jingle, just a very flat read. Why?
Maybe the Music Lovers Society of America sought a restraining order, given the quality of the vocal work. Maybe the Chicago Guild of Otolaryngologists reported that a distressing number of White Sox viewers had taken to piercing their own eardrums to avoid hearing the jingle again. But if it’s neither of those things, what’s up?
It’s possible the Sox realized Nationwide was getting a lot more air time than it paid for (a common occurrence with live spots) and hiked the ad price, but otherwise it seems unlikely the insurance company would bow out. After all, five of their competitors alone — GEICO, Progressive, State Farm, Allstate and Liberty Mutual — spent five billion dollars on TV ads in 2023, with most of the ads stressing humor to try to stand out. Nationwide was standing out brilliantly on the cheap — anybody hearing the broadcast crews’ attempt has had the tune stuck in their head ever since.
As someone who has written and/or voiced roughly 23657 gazillion broadcast spots or drop-ins, I can attest how hard it is to get through the commercial clutter on the airwaves. The jingle was invaluable, because it did just that.
Plus, you remembered the actual name of the sponsor (if not the agent involved). Sure, we all remember the lawyer ads that proved Tim Anderson shouldn’t quit his day job, but who was the lawyer, and how impressive was he? What windows is that terrible window guy whose deal is always ending soon hawking? And there were those absolutely obnoxious spots about how Lucas Giolito was the worst pitcher in baseball but became an All-Star, but what were they even selling? I can’t remember, can you? Nationwide you remember, and pleasantly.
Is it possible the jingle disappeared because of Schriffen and his nonexistent sense of humor, his inability to be self-effacing even when he has so very, very much to be self-effacing about? It would be nice to know. Not that we have a shortage of things to blame him for now, but still …