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The Deal is No Deal; or, Bradley’s Royal Pain
You’re not seeing things: Barely was the Thursday designation for assignment dry when the Oakland Athletics thought they’d really find Milton Bradley some playing time come Friday. (Bradley, you may be aware, had complained aloud that the A’s didn’t bring him back from the disabled list as soon as he was really healthy again, and the A’s outfield picture looks a little too much like a California rush-hour freeway these days.)
They agreed to trade him to the Kansas City Royals for pitcher Leo Nunez, which would have put the Royals on the hook for the rest of Bradley’s 2007 salary.
Then it turned out Bradley’s last swing in Oakland silks put a real strain on the idea. As in, straining the oft-injured Bradley’s oblique. Bradley in essence went from Oakland to Kansas City and back without even having to book a flight; or, as Kansas City general manager Dayton Moore told reporters, he knows nussing except that “there was some problem with the medical [examination].”
The Royals aren’t blaming the A’s. They believe the A’s had no idea about Bradley’s freshly-sprained oblique when the two sides agreed to the deal. But then Rotoworld.com raises the tantalising question as to whether Bradley might have invented a story about a freshly-strained oblique—note, again, that it’s supposed to have happened when he swung the bat in live competition—in order to kill any deal to the Royals, even if he is fond of manager Buddy Bell (the two worked cordially together when Bradley was with Cleveland).
(Situation update, Saturday afternoon: the Royals say Bradley himself told the team about the freshly-strained oblique. The plot thickens . . . )
The A’s, of course, have ten days from the designation for assignment to trade or release Bradley, who can say no way, Jose to a minor league assignment thanks to over three years’ major league time. The A’s would be on the hook for the bulk of Bradley’s contract if they release him, with a new club on the hook for a mere $380,000. The Royals are still threatening to try making Bradley one of theirs (”Obviously,” said Moore, “we’ve got interest in him”), never mind that at least one contender (San Diego) was said to be interested in bringing him aboard.
The A’s probably brought this situation on themselves by signing him to a nice single-year deal regardless of the prospective outfield jam, never mind that Bradley’s injury history isn’t exactly a result of stupidities that have put lesser talents on about as many disabled lists. Quick: For all his earlier reputation as a human time bomb, name one time Bradley ever lied about falling on his can or wrecking a shoulder or other extremity while washing his pickup truck, or carrying a side of venison downstairs.
So what on earth did Bradley finally, really do, if anything, to make the A’s decide not just to designate him for assignment but to send him—practically the only Athletic who showed up with a live bat during last year’s brief postseason—not to an interested contender but to a potential cellar-dweller?





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