SARASOTA, Fla. -- What about the Ford, Chris? You know, the Escort. The car with 200,000 miles on the odometer, the car you still drove even after you were making $1 million a year.
"It lasted a long time," Chris Sabo says. "It finally just broke down. A radio station auctioned it off for charity, used the money for that."
So, what are you driving now?
"Ford Taurus," Sabo replies.
He's from Detroit. His brother-in-law works for Ford. So do a few cousins. Chris Sabo isn't going to be caught in a fancy foreign car. A Ford suits him just fine.
They loved him in Cincinnati, Say-bo, Spuds McKenzie, the flattop, the goggles, the whole bit. No doubt, they're going to love him in Baltimore.
Rafael Palmeiro will be admired for his gorgeous swing, but Sabo will be a working-class hero, the toast of Hampden and Dundalk and Pigtown.
"The guy will walk through hell in a gasoline suit for you," Pete Rose said when he was Sabo's manager.
He gets his uniform dirty. Bowls over catchers. Plays with no fear.
He's a former hockey goalie whose high school team won two national championships.
He's a scratch golfer who once tried out for the golf team at Michigan under an assumed name to get in a few free rounds.
Talk? Save it, buddy.
Sabo is here to play ball.
He talks in staccato bursts. No wasted words, no phony baloney. Ask him 30 questions, the interview might last three minutes. Is that it? All right. See you tomorrow.
So, Chris, we hear you're a Civil War buff.
"I just like history, history of wars, all the wars," says Sabo, who was a history major at Michigan.
Baltimore is smack in the middle of Civil War country.
"Yeah, Maryland. War of 1812."
So, you'll tour some battlefields?
"If I have time. I'm here to play baseball. I'm not here to look at the sights."
Here to win. Here to play ball.
On his first day of interviews in Baltimore, Sabo did a live shot with a television station in Washington.
So, Chris, do you feel you're going to be a leader in the clubhouse?
"I just want to play. I just to win," Sabo said. "You're in Washington. You want a leader? Get Bill Clinton."
Any more questions?
Early in spring training, Orioles manager Johnny Oates noticed Sabo keeping to himself and asked if anything was wrong.
"No," Sabo said. "Why?"
"I just see you by yourself, reading a lot," Oates said.
