Pablo Sandoval vs. The Panda: A Critical Perspective

There seems to be a difference these days to the Panda that San Francisco Giants fans have loved over the years, and the Pablo Sandoval that is trying to find himself with the Boston Red Sox.

Oh, no, he didn’t.

Actually, yes, he did.

It seems that the San Francisco Giants’ former beloved Kung Fu Panda has taken it upon himself to burn some bridges with the team that drafted him. First, he made waves in early March when he asserted that he felt slighted by the Giants, after he felt they “disrespected” his agent in negotiations last year, saying “[it’s] not about money. It’s how you treat the player.”

Then, it was statements that claimed that he wasn’t going to miss the Giants, and that the only people he would really miss were manager Bruce Bochy and RF Hunter Pence.

No one else.

This was certainly a complete 180 from the statements he made to the team and fan base as he left the Giants in free agency for Fenway Park and the Boston Red Sox. After all, to omit guys like Buster Posey, Madison Bumgarner, Tim Lincecum and Gregor Blanco? I mean … did you really ever care about your former team?

It got worse when former Giants postseason hero Aubrey Huff chimed in, claiming that “I’m pretty sure their (sic) wasn’t a tear shed on behalf of all the players, and the coaches when he signed with Boston,” and that “[it] has always been about Pablo.”

Sandoval’s response?

“Who is Aubrey Huff?”

“Why you snot-nosed, little sonofa–“

Not cool, dude. Not cool. If you wanted the portion of Giants fans that still loved you to stop pining for you back, then I guess you succeeded. But this was unexpectedly low-brow, and you’ve managed to go from “our beloved Panda” to “Public Enemy No. 1” in a matter of weeks.

Then again, Santa Rosa Press Democrat columnist Lowell Cohn had an interesting piece regarding the recent “bad behavior” of one Pablo Sandoval. This wasn’t the Panda we knew and loved, he claimed – this was the real Pablo Sandoval we were finally getting to know, one that was moving on from the Orange-and-Black:

The Panda was friends with everyone on the team. The players loved him. Loved his winning smile and his broad laugh. […] The Panda is the nicest man who ever lived. And he has character up the wazoo. Never have we seen such high character.

And the fans were over the moon about Panda. They projected on him the world’s greatest personality. They wore those Panda hats. They saw Panda as they wanted to see him. They saw a fantasy and a fiction.

Now they’re seeing something else. They’re seeing how little we knew about Sandoval — the real Sandoval.

I think Cohn has a point. After all, we only think we know the sports stars we have come to know and love, as sports fans. We put them on pedestals all the time, and practically beg them to return the adoration we, as sports fans, give to them. But, because of these rose-colored glasses that we automatically put on for the sports figures we love, we tend to forget that these people are human. They are complicated, sometimes contradictory, creatures that are not the perfect angels we make them out to be.

The same can be said about Sandoval – after all, he could have been more diplomatic. He could have kept his comments to himself. He could have laid low in Boston and put up big numbers while leading the Red Sox to a fourth World Series crown in 11 years – and Giants fans would likely still pine for him, but they wouldn’t feel as hurt or spurned (for the most part).

Instead, in a possible effort to show the world he’s not some oafish cartoon character that can be a postseason magician with his bat, he mouthed off to the team that raised him. It was akin to a rebellious teenager showing his parents that they didn’t control him anymore. There was certainly a part of him that felt like the front office was yanking his chain, and treating him like a child. Sandoval said it himself – it was a matter of respect, and he felt that the Giants didn’t give him any.

Does anyone agree with that in the City by the Bay? Probably not.

After all, the Giants expressed their “top priority” in bringing Panda back into the fold. And the fans did adore him – even in times where those on the outside looking in couldn’t understand why. Recent events have only shown that same fan base that, in the end, Pablo Sandoval wasn’t the lovable “Kung Fu Panda” they had grown to adore.

Ultimately, if you are a Giants fan, you can choose to hate Pablo Sandoval, the man, for this. But make no mistake – you can also choose to still love the legend of Kung Fu Panda.

They can be mutually exclusive.

Let me remember my Panda like this. Just like this.

After all, Giants fans, for the most part, still regard Barry Bonds as a living legend – despite the fact that the rest of the civilized baseball world regards him as a Class-A jerk who used PEDs to get to the top of the Home Run list. We generally have selective memory when it comes to Bonds – I think we can do the same with the Panda.

And even if you choose to loathe him, there is at least one Giants player – OF Gregor Blanco – that, despite his disappointment in Sandoval’s comments, has it in his heart to forgive him. That is, if, or when, he feels compelled to apologize:

He won’t know what he’s saying until years later. He will find out the words he was saying. I hope he regrets it and apologizes, especially to the fans.

But the choice is up to you. Love the Panda for who he was in San Francisco, or hate Pablo Sandoval for the man he has made himself out to be in Boston. In either case, I won’t blame you for your decision.

After all, we’re only human.