anything that might give hitters hope, it's a news report from early in spring
training. Jered was partying with some college teammates, got cited for public
intoxication and spent a night in the Long Beach city jail. He promised that,
from then on, he would "just go out and have your few and make your way
home." What was most encouraging (for hitters) was not that Jered proved he
could make a mistake, but that he was so fascinated by his night in jail.
"I wouldn't say it was cool," he said during spring training, "but
it was a trip to see people you've never even seen on Cops."
But if there's any
incipient wackiness here, it's likely to be corrected by big brother in one of
his every-other-day phone calls, reminding the kid of his place in the
clubhouse, in the game, on the road. This kind of brotherly love, in place of
the more reliable sibling rivalry, cannot be good news for opponents. With the
two Weavers watching each other's backs, family dynamics don't favor the