CHICAGO — Everything was set up perfectly. Back at their home stadium, the Chicago White Sox were in need of one more measly loss to set the sport’s all-time record for futility. It was a fitting way to finish out this nightmare season.
That’s what brought larger crowds when there otherwise would have been a smattering of hearty souls. That’s what brought media from across the country when it otherwise would have been just the regular beat writers.
But in a series seemingly set up to highlight the White Sox’ horrendous 2024, it was the lowly Los Angeles Angels who humiliated themselves on a national stage.
They were swept by a team that improved to 39-120 on Thursday in a 7-0 loss punctuating a season that is now officially the worst in Angels franchise history.
There could be a no more fitting way to clinch that mark. The entire sport’s attention was affixed to this series for the White Sox, only to see the failure their opponents had become and the circumstances not allowing this disaster season by the Angels to fade into oblivion. The Angels simply had to wear it.
“We forgot to bring real baseball players into the organization,” Angels manager Ron Washington told The Los Angeles Times in a story posted Wednesday. “Nothing against those guys here, but they’re not big-league baseball players, and they certainly can’t help us win a championship.”
Washington walked back his very sharp criticism for the team he was forced to manage, saying on Thursday that he “misspoke.” He meant they needed to learn to be big-league players, he clarified.
That’s a difference without a distinction. He doesn’t believe his current roster to be capable of that. And the results on the field — a 63-96 record — have shown him to be correct.
“It’s pretty sickening,” Angels catcher Logan O’Hoppe said of the record-setting loss. “Going into spring and expecting things to turn around, and then it happens. We’ve got a good group in here and it doesn’t feel like what the record shows. But the record is what it is. I don’t think anyone’s OK with it in here. I don’t know. It’s just tough right now.”
Credit to the 24-year-old catcher, and to his manager. Their blunt assessment and refusal to sugarcoat the state of affairs is refreshing. At 33 games below .500, the worst thing you can do is gaslight the fanbase. At the very least, that is not happening here.
But it’s also cold comfort for a slew of loyal followers who haven’t seen postseason baseball in a decade. If and when the Detroit Tigers clinch this weekend — against the White Sox, no less — the Angels will have the longest playoff drought in the sport.
Logan O’Hoppe has been a leader for a team that has toiled in futility since long before he arrived in 2022. (Meg Oliphant / Getty Images)
Bad baseball in Anaheim, Calif., is nothing new. The White Sox might be historically awful, but at least they were in the playoffs three years ago. The Tigers might have missed the playoffs the last nine years, but at least they put together a successful blueprint to fix that.
The Angels say they hope the success of their young players will quickly turn this thing around. And it yet could. But they haven’t earned the benefit of the doubt. And a season this terrible should do nothing but add skepticism and shred credibility for the vague blueprint they’ve been advertising.
“What else do we do but be optimistic,” O’Hoppe said when asked about his optimism moving forward. “It’s just frustrating. The fans come out on the weekends, and they want to see us win. We want to win more than anybody. Sleepless nights all year get pretty old after a while. It’s just frustrating. You feel the emotions, and at some point, you just don’t have any more emotions to feel.”
“Hopefully it couldn’t get worse than this,” said shortstop Zach Neto, when asked the same question. “It’s a learning step for all of us.”
Not very optimistic, it sounds like.
O’Hoppe and Neto are last on the list for blame. They’ve posted, and remain the two most solid building blocks for this franchise that needs to find many more.
There is, however, plenty of criticism to go around. The highest-paid players haven’t been on the field. The coaching staff hasn’t shown the ability to increase players’ performance consistently. The front office hasn’t fielded a winning big-league product, nor has it developed a particularly strong farm system.
All of it, of course, comes back to Arte Moreno. His 22-year-run as Angels owner has devolved into a chaotic disaster — one which he takes absolutely zero accountability for creating. The public ire these days is rightfully directed at A’s owner John Fisher, who uprooted his team from Oakland. And White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf, whose penny-pinching is responsible for their current plight.
Moreno’s work as owner could be overlooked, as a result. But it shouldn’t. The last time he did a media scrum 18 months ago, he said his critics were the “vocal minority,” and that most fans thought highly of him. It was a mind-bending comment to make at the time. And now, after this week, after this season, there’s no way even he could still believe it to be true.
A slew of fans walked along the bottom concourse outside the Angels clubhouse after Thursday’s game. Washington stood and did his postgame media scrum outside those clubhouse doors, crediting his opponent for the beat-down that just finished.
After the Angels skipper was done, he turned around to walk back inside the clubhouse. At that moment, an elderly White Sox fan saw Washington and stopped just before he reached the exit.
“C’mon, Ron,” the fan said with exasperation. “You couldn’t take one from us?”
That was all these White Sox fans wanted. A chance to send their unforgettably putrid team off on their own terms. That’s why they bought tickets. That’s why they booed when the Angels lost. This was their moment.
Washington didn’t respond. He might not have even heard the fan. Instead, he continued inside, away from the outside noise.
What would there have been to say? That they couldn’t win even one game, nor should they have. Because, for as bad as the White Sox might be, right now, the Angels are that much worse.
(Photo of Griffin Canning after Sunday’s game: Tim Warner / Getty Images)
