If it's Soriano's way or nothing, sayonara

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Rogers Hornsby?

Joe Morgan?

Johnny Evers, with Tinker and Chance thrown in?

Just who does Alfonso Soriano think he is?

During this joyous holiday season, the Washington Nationals' newest player is showing no goodwill toward anybody. As far as Nats fans are concerned, he's acting more like the Grinch who stole Christmas.

The other night at a dinner for Dominican players, Soriano reiterated that he won't move from second base to the outfield should the club deem it necessary. Alfonso needs to brush up on his spelling because he apparently believes there is indeed an "I" in "team."

I can't wait until Al encounters manager Frank Robinson when the Nats reconvene in Viera, Fla., this spring. I guess Soriano hasn't heard that F. Robby is one of baseball's toughest guys. The last fool Frank suffered gladly was Bill DeWitt, who traded him from the Cincinnati Reds to the Baltimore Orioles -- one of the all-time dumb deals -- in December 1965.

It's not hard to imagine the dialogue going like this:

Robinson: "Welcome to camp, Alfonso. You're my center fielder."

Soriano: "I ain't playing no outfield, booby."