The duo was going to, if you believed Jim Bowden’s hype, form one of the greatest outfields of all time.
And it was easy to believe in him. Dunn was a tall, incredibly strong young man when he arrived in 2001, with no foreshadow of the flabby oaf he would one day become. Kearns would be his counterpart, a coveted five-tool player. (Six-tool, if you counted his ability to make up for Dunn’s ineptitude in left field.)
Of course, that didn’t happen. Instead we were left with losing years and futile hopes. And a lingering hatred of Ray King’s fat ass.
Oh, and one of my favorite fake news stories that RHM ever wrote: Dude, Where’s My Bat.