Oh, How They Come Crawling Back

The David Ortiz home run total is now up to five. Plus, he beat the shift in a big way, so either the Marlins are completely incompetent or Big Papi's got his timing back and every pitcher facing the Red Sox is for loads of trouble. Either way, the papers are now surprised he doesn't want to talk to them:

“That’s where I normally go when I’m swinging the bat good,’’ he said after the Red Sox’ 8-2 win over the Marlins last night.

Then, hurriedly, he left.

Ortiz now swings a big bat and scurries silently.

Is his reticence to talk to the media about what's changed that surprising? Facing daily columns saying his career was over; hearing a barrage of voices demanding his demotion in the lineup, his benching, his release; seeing buckets of ink spilled linking his name with use of steroids; why would he want to talk to reporters when vindication finally arrived? We've all had our faith in the game shaken time after time in the past five years, so the overreaction to any slump of unusual length can be explained - if not justified - by tying it to our fears, but if you kick a guy when he's down, he's not going to want to talk to you when he gets back up.