Ryan Kreidler makes all the other athletes’ kids look like they’ve failed in the trash

As obsessive media thugs we, we decided to elope with our first major baseball player–not in a way that reminds men, but as an actual takeover of human property. We pick with our first pick in that guy that belongs to us because we say that, of the Detroit Tigers, player Ryan Criddler.

We don’t because his story is particularly unique: He starred on his high school team, landed a baseball trip at UCLA, got drafted, and Wenatchee/Mankato/Wareham/Norwich/Salt River/Grand Rapids/Erie/Toledo did something but rarer. Players do this to get to the point where he is called to his manager’s office to find out the news that he has finally been called into the majors. He’s a humble player, an excellent defensive player, throwing a look from a team that’s frankly hard to look at most days.

No, we’re doing this for more selfish reasons, which is to see if the fact that his father Mark, a longtime sportswriter in San Diego and Sacramento, is the cause of his athletic talents, and if that science can be applied to members of the maverick team. who want to have athletic children, or in a more logical way, any kind of child at all.

As it turns out, it can’t. Not here anyway. None of this “I’m going to make my kid throw a left-handed because all my time watching games and writing about them should be valuable,” because in Kreidler’s case, his set of fast-paced muscles and competitive drive comes from his mom Colin Costello-Kreidler and her group of siblings. “Believe me, it has nothing to do with me,” Criddler said with a laugh. “That’s it Colin. I’m all the way.”

That would usually end the story there, because there is no gain for any of the comrades’ DNA here, unless it also happens that they have Costello’s blood in them, which they don’t (Comrade Bechsky, for example, has no blood at all). But that’s the other reason we were gloomy on the Kreidler floor. Comrades Anantharaman and Theisen are unrepentant Michigan sports fans, and given that the Tigers, Lions, Pistons and Red Wings offer little in the way of warmth, small wins should be amplified into slightly larger ones.

So, Ryan Kreidler. Who, by the way, took home a win in Detroit’s 5-4 win yesterday at Anaheim, the classic 11th versus 14th place showdown between a team featuring Mike Trout and Shohei Ohtani, and a team with Spencer Turkelson and Ryan Criddler. And my dad and mom were there, as they had been in the previous five games. That’s a lot of Tiger baseball to put up with, but when you’ve been in this game for 24 years, what’s another week?

The elder Criddler spoke of his son’s transformation while his mother slept, exhausted a week after tracking her son from Toledo to Detroit to Anaheim. “The thing is, they don’t want us to help him do anything,” Kreidler said beret He said. “He’s a great player, and they do all the things that need to be done to get him from where he is to where he needs to be, showing where he’s supposed to do and doing what the players do. We’re supposed to get ourselves onto the field.”

Six games later, he watched as he hoisted a 2-1 speedball from Jose Quejada past Mike Trout’s skills in the void behind Karimelli and Yokohama Tyre in the left midfield. Homer came for him with three pitches after Homer tied Kerry Carpenter, making him the 650th Tiger to have had success on home soil. “He got to like Meiji Cabrera in the dugout,” his father said. “Isn’t that cool?”

Young Kreidler showed just how well he mastered player terminology: “It was a super heater,” he said, describing Quijada’s floor as he stood in front of his wardrobe like a Commodore Badass. “They blew me indoors all day, so I was ready to go. I knew that easy. I looked for a heater, got a heater and made a good swing on it.”

Yes, this will play. But she’ll play along with exchanging pleasantries with Trout at third base at the bottom of the first Monday night, and even getting a deep arc from Shohei Ohtani later in the game as a welcome in the world’s largest treehouse, because when you’re in the club, you’re in the damn club. . The Future Hall of Famers welcomes Ryan Kreidlers because he is a small world and only those who make it get proper respect from those who define it. It’s the little things that make it worth all the years and blisters and snack bars and cold stands, not to mention all the games that can’t be seen because my dad had to go watch the Sacramento Kings play the Minnesota Timberwolves for free. obvious reason.

Which brings us to the revelation his father got when they sat in Comerica Park for his first major league game: “I’m the guy who’s spent half his life making judgments about athletes casually, and now I see how cool it was just to be here.” Another very angry satirist who was devastated by the late payment of paternity. The profession cries for another victim.

In fact, Mark Kreidler has discovered something else his previous career (move to healthy endeavors) no longer bothers you: saving square points for cutting and saving. “I had to go to hell just to find a paper,” he said wistfully. But as long as he has a printer, he has this is And the this is. He and Colin (okay, Colin mostly) could say they created the number 22,809 player in major league history, the player with 326,566 home runs in history. They can also worry about him this season because, like his teammates, he will have to weed out any system change that comes next for the team he’s in. Its general manager was fired a month ago He has not yet replaced him.

Until then, Ryan Kreidler had been a guy with a baseball reference page, his home run, and a fleeting but very real relationship with Mike Trout and Shohei Ohtani. Hopefully he’ll have the good sense not to say anything about what his father did for a living, for the best he can hope for is for Trott to say, “Well, I’ve overcome a great deal of adversity there,” before rolling his eyes in distrust and disgust.