Michael Morse will not suit up for the Dodgers. There will be no third act to the '80s movie, in which Morse realizes he cannot betray his nerdy friends. There will be no sad yearning as he lumbers up to the plate in blue, smelling like the tires that Dodger Dogs are made of. The Marlins wanted him to go away, and the Dodgers were more comfortable paying that tax than giving up real prospects. Morse was designated for assignment on Thursday, never once stepping into the Dodgers clubhouse.
This is a good thing. Not just for you and me and our selfish, tribal biases. But now Morse will clear waivers, refuse an assignment to the minors, and become a free agent. He can feel wanted again.
He can go to a team that needs a right-handed slugger off the bench.
Maybe one that will appreciate him a little more. And love him. And feed him peanuts.
I'm just not sure if one of those teams exists.
To be honest, I'm not sure if the Giants are the best fit for him, but considering that the only outfielder who needs a defensive replacement -- and generally doesn't get defensive replacements because of pride or something -- is already covered by Gregor Blanco, it's not ludicrous to think the Giants could find a spot for him on the bench.
It would be warm and fuzzy, at least. And really, really cheap.
Reunion or no, at the very least, Michael Morse will not be a Dodger. Our long regional nightmare is very much over.
YOU SHALL NOT BE MONTAGUE AND CAPULET, AND YOUR FRIENDSHIP WILL NO LONGER BE JUDGED. YOU ARE FREE TO BRO TOGETHER, AS YOU WERE, AS YOU ALWAYS SHALL BE.
Man, that was a rough 30 hours or so.