Jeff Abbott.

Joe Borchard.

Brandon McCarthy.

Ryan Sweeney.

Lance Broadway.

Brian Anderson.

Inevitably, Josh Fields.

Gordon Beckham’s impending, sure-fire Hall of Fame career aside, is it really that hard to develop a prospect worth holding onto? Sure, the players above aren’t the only ones the Sox have ever drafted, and it’s not like time spent on the South Side farm always translates into going down in flames, and of course some departures were more about upgrading the team (McCarthy) than about acts of mercy (Borchard). But in a world where Chris Getz’s.321 on-base percentage is considered a successful rookie campaign, what can trading busts for gambles really do for anyone?

In a word, nothing. But it’s a good nothing.

Ask the average Sox fan, just for a moment, to reflect upon Anderson’s time on the South Side, and you will probably get the following four responses:

1. He made that spectacular catch to end the blackout game.
2. In his MLB debut, he hit those two home runs off of no less a talent than Felix Hernandez.
3. He had defensive skills to rival the best of them.
4. He could have been great had his bat ever come around.

Those first three items might be good for a highlight reel, and it’s not impossible the second makes its way into a montage or two down the line, but Anderson never found a way to move past that exclamation point of an approach to developing a career. He had great moments that only served to spell long periods of hitting defined by a .204 average against lefties and the 1-2 breaking balls low and away, like clockwork, for a swinging third strike. He’d make a phenomenal play, then follow it up by popping out to kill a rally the very next inning.

And after a while, the idea came to define Brian Anderson that he still needed work, even when he appeared to be on the right track, because Anderson was just that: the eternal prospect, always almost there but never really getting there. Nothing more, nothing less, but a promising nothing all the same.