Before his first pitch for the Cubs, closer Aroldis Chapman blew a save opportunity.
All Chapman had to do to assimilate himself smoothly into Chicago and the Cubs culture Tuesday at U.S. Cellular Field was show that he understood the controversy surrounding his domestic-violence altercation last October. That he grasped the gravity of a situation and subject nobody in today's society should take lightly.
Instead, with notable nonchalance, Chapman answered questions through a translator before the second game of the City Series and did little to dissuade anybody conflicted about the Cubs trading for the troubled reliever. Sincerity needs no interpretation, but is hard to express with a smirk. Chapman smirked a lot.
You know that phone conversation with Chapman that Cubs President Theo Epstein said Monday convinced him and Chairman Tom Ricketts to make the trade? The one Epstein went so far as to say that "it was really important to hear his voice"? Asked about specifics Tuesday, Chapman initially paused to access his memory-and came up empty.
"He was sleeping when he got the call so he's trying to remember what they talked about," said interpreter Henry Blanco, a Cubs coach. "It has been a long day."
He was sleepy. A reporter followed up by asking Chapman if anything Ricketts or Epstein said over the phone made an impact on him. Blanco repeated the question.
"No," he answered.
Imagine how silly Epstein and Ricketts felt hearing Chapman say he didn't recall that conversation they used as the basis to make the most controversial move of their tenures. Words that the top two Cubs officials considered profound enough to risk their reputations on went in one of Chapman's ears and out the other.
The Cubs reacted quickly trying to unring the bell, though it seems hard to believe a player in his seventh major-league season who dealt with the New York media felt overwhelmed by Tuesday's circumstances. A newbie, Chapman is not. People can use cultural communication issues as an excuse but I recall Starlin Castro, for example, a kid from a small town in the Dominican Republic, showing more awareness in April 2012 after learning sexual-assault charges wouldn't be filed against him.
Chapman is 28 and savvy but a language barrier prevented him from arriving more prepared to make a strong first impression and treat a serious topic more delicately?
Manager Joe Maddon, during his regular pregame session, guessed that Chapman didn't understand the question about the phone call. Epstein assured everybody the call "was meaningful and (Chapman) was very direct." The Cubs PR department later emailed reporters a transcript of Chapman's one-on-one interview with ESPN's Pedro Gomez-after he flubbed the local session-that included more introspection than his first go-around.
"I knew that no matter where I was traded to this would resurface, that the controversy is going to follow me," Chapman told Gomez. "But I'm with my girlfriend. Our family is together. We're working toward making things better in our lives. And really, it's going to be with me."
Pressed earlier to provide details about character expectations both Ricketts and Epstein identified as priorities, Chapman's weary expression suggested he was more confounded by the questioning than confused.
"He just got here so they haven't sat him down and talked about it at any point," Blanco said. "They told him just to do his thing."
Last October, Chapman fired eight shots inside the garage of his Miami-area home after an argument with his girlfriend, who was so frightened that night she hid in the bushes until police arrived. The girlfriend alleged in the Davie, Fla., police report that Chapman choked and pushed her, though charges never were filed because of "conflicting stories and a lack of cooperation." Even though Chapman served a 30-game suspension Major League Baseball imposed, the smudges on the reliever's reputation followed him to Chicago. And in his first appearance in a Cubs uniform, Chapman did little to clear it up.
We love sports because they routinely offer athletes like Chapman second chances to redeem themselves. Most demonstrate more appreciation for them than Chapman did. Chapman engaged more directly when discussing the toughest Cubs hitter to face or the key to throwing 105 mph than he did addressing the serious topic of domestic violence.
Perhaps the most disappointing part of Chapman's introduction to his new city came when he was asked if he had any plans to get more involved to raise awareness of domestic-violence. A shrug is universal.
"No," Chapman said.
He acted oblivious to the concept of local perception complicating his reality or a backlash among any Cubs fans with a social conscience. The longer Chapman talked, the more he confirmed his role in the 2016 Cubs season as a baseball mercenary. Many Cubs fans have made it known they have no problem with that. (Thanks for all the emails, everybody.) Nor do the Cubs, who might win the World Series but have lost the right to tout the character in the clubhouse.
"I understand what I went through and I am a better person now," Chapman said through Blanco. "I learned a lot from mistakes and I want to move forward. I am focused only on winning games."
At least Chapman made that abundantly clear.