Bordow: Schilling turns back on media and Valley fans upon return

Curt Schilling arrived in the visitors’ clubhouse at Chase Field at about 3:30 p.m. Friday. Some of his teammates were watching a movie, the 2005 remake of the “Bad News Bears.” Others were hanging out in front of their lockers, shooting the breeze or talking on a cell phone.

A couple of reporters approached Schilling, said hello and asked if he had a minute.

“Not now,” Schilling said. “I’ve got too many things to do.”

Perhaps after batting practice?

“We’ll see,” he said.

The Red Sox finished taking BP at 5:45 p.m. Schilling trotted past us on his way into the clubhouse, saying, “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

He never came out.

It’s my fault, I guess. I didn’t have a camera with me or an ESPN logo on my shirt.

Look, I understand that journalists are about as popular as a bad case of strep throat, and the public couldn’t care less when an athlete blows us off. In fact, I’m guessing more than a few of you openly cheer when we’re given the cold shoulder.

And I don’t believe athletes have to talk to the media every day. Over the course of 162 games, a baseball player will need some privacy and down time. I get that.

But there are also going to be times when an athlete has an obligation to meet with the media. For Schilling, Friday was one of those occasions.

It was his first trip back to Chase Field since the Diamondbacks traded him to Boston in 2003. That made him a story, whether he thought so or not.

When Luis Gonzalez returned earlier this season with the Los Angeles Dodgers he held a press conference before the first game of the series. He understood the media wanted to talk to him and fans wanted to hear from him.

It was a simple, professional act.

Schilling, though, couldn’t spare five minutes to talk about what it felt like to help the Red Sox win the World Series in 2004. He didn’t have a couple of moments to talk about his bloody sock, his blog, 38pitches.com, or how he came within one out of pitching a no-hitter against the Oakland Athletics Thursday.

He didn’t care that Diamondbacks fans might have wanted to hear how he was doing. He was too busy for you.

Sadly, I wasn’t surprised.

Schilling pulled the same, tired act when he was a Diamondback. I once asked him, three hours and 30 minutes before that night’s game was to begin, whether he had time to answer two questions.

He said he didn’t.

He spent the next 20 minutes sitting in front of his locker, doing a crossword puzzle.

Again, I don’t expect any sympathy. Nor is this some personal vendetta I have toward Schilling. I’ve been in this business far too long — and I’m far too old — to worry about whether an athlete talks to me or not.

But I do think it’s wrong when Schilling blows you off by not talking to us.

There is much to admire about Schilling. He has given both his time and money in the fight against ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease. He has been one of baseball’s loudest and most articulate voices to speak out on steroids. He’s pitching as well now, at the age of 40, as he did when he was 30.

That said, his silent treatment Friday was inexcusable.

Schilling may think those of us with a badge and a notepad aren’t worthy of his time. I can live with that.

But he should have time for you when you cheered his every pitch for four years and treated him like royalty.

That he didn’t says less about you than it does about him.

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Listen to Scott Bordow every Monday at 1:05 p.m. on The Fan AM 1060 with Bob Kemp.