A Guy Can Dream

With the Yankees just losing to the Indians in the bottom of the 9th inning, my instinct is to author another post about the continual mismanagement of reliever deployment. Today’s offense was the refusal to use Mariano Rivera in a tie game on the road, even if it meant (as it ultimately did) losing the contest. Once again, we see that most managers simply will not use their closer unless he is protecting a lead in the 9th inning. I repeat: even if it means losing. 

To pacify myself, I will look at the following image and hope that the Cavaliers’ surprising elimination will nudge this ardent dream one step closer to a glorious reality.

Progress, Thy Name Is Crasnick

I have gone on the record several times in my criticism of modern bullpen management. I’ve also used this space to question ESPN’s Jerry Crasnick and his professional aptitude. So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered this exchange from Friday’s chat on ESPN.com:

Goose (Chicago): Why isn’t JP Howell closing in TB? Because he is lefty? Righties are hitting .169 against him and he is clearly the best reliever in that bullpen right now. 

Jerry Crasnick: Goose, Joe Maddon seems to use J.P. Howell in a lot of tough jams in the seventh and eighth. If he starts closing with Howell, it’s just going to create a bigger void earlier in the game. 

Mr. Crasnick appears to suggest that baseball games might reach critical junctures in innings other than the 9th, and that baseball managers should adjust their deployment of relievers accordingly. Needless to say, this suggestions makes me extraordinarily happy. I can only hope that opinions like this continue to make the transition from “unorthodox thinking” to “intelligent management.”

Bryan Burwell Doesn’t Want to Count All the Votes, He Just Wants to Count the Non-Manny Votes

This week I finally got around to submitting my votes for the 2009 All-Star Game (to be played in a van down by the river). I tend to be fairly intuitive about this super-serious task, not putting too much stock in the hot starts of second-tier players; so I predictably voted for the Yankee’s left infield, three Cardinals, Carlos Beltran (I want the NL team to have more players who don’t really want to win), and Manny Ramirez.

As you may know, the Dodgers’ left fielder is serving a fifty-game suspension for being too awesome a banned substance. But 442,762 other voters apparently decided, like me, to ignore that and recognize Ramirez’s dynamic boost to a pretty bland Dodger offense since last August. Manny is currently in fourth place among NL outfielders; with a modest push he could make the starting lineup. And that does not sit well with the self-appointed gatekeepers of baseball. Dodgers manager Joe Torre thinks Manny should opt out if he’s voted in, although that’s based more on the “great first half” theory of All-Star voting than any feigned moral outrage. “Kyle” of bleacherreport.com stakes out the same position. But Bryan Burwell’s take on the matter displays a shocking disrespect and even disdain for baseball fans everywhere.

There’s A Lesson In Mike Francesa’s Joba-Induced Meltdown

I thought long and hard about posting this clip of Mike Francesa’s meltdown from Wednesday’s show. On one hand, I want Fan Interference to be a place free of vacuous mockery. There’s a place for such things on the Internet, but I just don’t want it to be here. On the other hand, I am human, which makes me capable of finding both humor and lessons in high-profile meltdowns.

Ultimately, I decided to post the video because I think it’s a good example of what sports analysis should not be. It should not be two people screaming at each other, equating volume with validity and forcefulness with finality. It should not be hysterical, haughty, and hyperbolic. Most of all, it should not be done with total ignorance of the facts. Different interpretations of facts are expected and necessary for intelligent discussion, but a total failure to acknowledge the facts themselves dooms an argument to a fate like the one seen below. 

My feelings on Joba Chamberlain’s role have been well-chronicled, so obviously I disagree with Francesa on this matter. But for now, my focus isn’t about which side of the argument is right or wrong. Instead, I want to call attention to the perversion of the rules of engagement. When two sides approach an argument in this way – without even the pretense of respect, patience, or consideration – they produce nothing but poisonous animosity. This isn’t limited to sports debates either; it’s no less deleterious when arguing with friends, family, and significant others. Perhaps it’s just me, but I’m convinced that making progress and screaming at each other are mutually exclusive undertakings. And that belief is not up for debate.

I Repeat: A “Five-To-Six Inning Pitcher” Is Not A Bad Thing

Consider this post my informal proposal to retire the phrase “he’s a five-to-six inning pitcher.” This phrase – used with some regularity in baseball circles – always has a respectfully negative connotation to it. It’s intended to say tactfully “he’s not very good, but he’ll take his lumps and get you through nearly two-thirds of the game.” Most recently, ESPN’s Buster Olney used it to describe the Phillies’ Jamie Moyer:

With Moyer essentially a five-to-six inning pitcher these days, the last thing that the Phillies need is to acquire another starter who would consistently leave 9 to 15 outs on the table for the bullpen. 

Olney and every other baseball writer continually neglects the fact that the average starting pitcher in the major leagues is “a five-to-six inning pitcher.” Look at the average length of a pitcher’s start since 2000:

• 2009: 5.80 IP
• 2008: 5.80 IP
• 2007: 5.79 IP
• 2006: 5.82 IP
• 2005: 5.99 IP
• 2004: 5.85 IP
• 2003: 5.86 IP
• 2002: 5.85 IP
• 2001: 5.91 IP
• 2000: 5.91 IP

As you can see, a phrase that is meant to criticize politely actually describes an average performance. Furthermore, there are many, many teams in Major League Baseball that would love to have someone who is “essentially a five-to-six inning pitcher.” There’s good value in average starting pitching, believe it or not. Since average starting pitching is somewhere between five and six innings per start, I propose that we banish the critical usage of “five-to-six inning pitcher.” Such criticism would be valid in, say, 1954; pitchers threw 463 complete games that year. But in the modern game, this qualifier adds nothing.

Ambiguous Criticisms Of Terrence Williams Raise Questions About Chad Ford’s Credibility

For a while now, I’ve been following the strange Chad Ford-Terrence Williams saga with great interest. Ford is an NBA Draft analyst for ESPN, as well as a propagator of ambiguously denigrating rumors about Williams, the former Louisville Cardinal. You can catch yourself up on this whole situation here. Right now, I post to confirm that, yes, Chad Ford still has serious concerns about Terrence Williams’ off-court behavior and no, he would not like to share them with you.

From yesterday’s chat:

Smitty (DC): Every year there’s a guy ranked in the teens a month before the draft that ends up going top 8. Is Terrence Williams that guy? 

Chad Ford: Talent wise … yes. He’s the guy. Background check wise … I don’t think so. I think teams are a little scared off. 

My reactions to Ford’s continual refusal to elaborate have progressed as follows: curiosity, distress, outrage. One of Ford’s job requirements is to share with us teams’ preferences as the draft approaches. If he has knowledge of the facts that are governing teams’ behavior, he is obligated to share those too. Ford is fulfilling the first requirement acceptably, but failing the second miserably. His continual failure to flesh out the reasons for teams’ purportedly mounting concerns about Williams not only makes Ford look like a jerk, but also – and more damagingly – makes him look like a liar. 

Throughout his college career, Williams received nothing but praise for his leadership, affability, and accountability. He has had no run-ins with the fans, coaches, or the law. Nevertheless, Ford has continually called these qualities into question, but only in the most ambiguous of ways. He would do well to explain himself, and soon. Because as far as I’m concerned, his professional reputation is at stake.

If history is any indicator, Ford’s next chat is Tuesday, June 2nd. I know I’ll be asking him to clarify his position – again. I’d love if you joined me.

Inexplicably, Home Runs Remain An Underrated Means Of Scoring

One of the more puzzling sentiments that has made its way into mainstream baseball analysis is the idea that home runs kill rallies. You don’t hear it in every game, or even most games, but when the opportunity presents itself, you can count on a broadcaster unleashing this bit of misinformation. For example, if a team loads the bases with no outs, and the batter hits a grand slam, it is likely someone will say “I’d rather have had a single to keep the line moving than a rally-killing homer.”

I hope the fallaciousness of this thinking is fairly self-evident. A home run is, by definition, the single best result a hitter can achieve during his at-bat. At the very least, it guarantees one run for his team. It often guarantees more. But it’s a guarantee, and that’s the most important point to remember and the very point that people forget when they proclaim certain home runs “rally-killers.” As a fan, it’s easy to understand the feelings behind such a statement. The bases are loaded, no one is out, and there’s all the promise in the world of an endless inning with lots and lots of scoring. When a player hits a home run and clears the bases, it just feels like the start of the inning all over again. Sure, multiple runs have scored, but now there’s no one on base. So, I understand the visceral reaction leading to the idea of rally-killing home runs. It’s important to understand, however, that the home run itself is the very rally that people fear has been killed.

I bring this up because Tampa Bay Rays pitcher Jason Isringhausen has introduced an apparent descendant of this misguided maxim. After helping blow a 10-0 lead over the Cleveland Indians, the Rays’ reliever offered this bit of thinking:

“The walks are unacceptable,” Isringhausen. “I’d rather give up home runs than walk guys.”

Isringhausen’s preferences are his own choice, but if he’s intent on pitching effectively, then his choice is wrong. It’s wrong for the same reason that home runs as “rally-killers” is wrong. If hitting a home run is the best thing a hitter can do, it’s also the worst thing a pitcher can allow. A walk is bad, yes, but allowing a home run means that the opponent has instantly scored one run. That’s much, much worse than allowing a baserunner.

While wrong, Isringhausen’s statement is understandable. As a fan, it’s agonizing to watch your pitcher walk batter after batter. It’s a slow, painful death that wreaks havoc upon the nerves and grants an amplified feeling of powerlessness. Seeing your pitcher allow a home run, on the other hand, provides certainty. It’s the devil you know. Once the ball leaves the park, you know exactly what the score is going to be, and you can start to get on with your life. Walks don’t afford that luxury. So, once again, I comprehend the feelings behind a statement like Isringhausen’s. That doesn’t make him any less wrong.

The National Sports Media Can Feel Free To Recognize That Jonathan Papelbon Is Kind Of A Jerk

 

My suspicions of national anti-Yankees media bias have mellowed with age, but with the reporting of this small but telling story, I do wonder why we never hear the talking heads blast Jonathan Papelbon for this sort of stuff. Perhaps it’s because the Red Sox were anointed the label of “playing the game the right way” several years ago, and as we know, these perceptions die hard. Still, it took but one fist pump for the national media to come down on Joba Chamberlain’s histrionics. Papelbon acts like a five-year-old each and every time he “saves” a game, yet he escapes consternation. 

I think I’ve generally been pretty clear about my total indifference towards celebrations. As long as they’re in good taste, I don’t care. But I really like consistency, and it would be wonderful if someone outside the New York City area would get on Papelbon’s case for regularly behaving like a total dope.

Problems Arise When Perceptions Become Axioms

One of the most fascinating and frustrating aspects about professional sports is the degree to which perception rules all else. Reporters, analysts, fans, and virtually anyone who contributes to the institution of professional sports often find their opinions governed not by the realities chronicled in hard data, but by the perceptions that emerge organically or through sports media inculcation. 

Examples of this phenomenon are both endless and complicated. One fan might see a laziness in a player’s fielding, while another sees grace. A broadcaster might see fire and passion in a player’s on-field temperament, while a beat writer could see insolence and immaturity. Post-game stoic leadership? Try divisive aloofness. In this way, perceptions of players, teams, organizations, backgrounds, and countless other variables provide abundant material for discussion and often make their way into the fabric of the culture surrounding professional sports. I’m sure there’s a huge and interesting sociological discussion to be had about the factors contributing to the propagation and cementation of perceptions in professional sports. I’m just not sure I could give it the attention it deserves right now.

For the purposes of this post, I’m interested in the indelible perceptions and labels that are attached to certain teams, regardless of their accuracy. There are many examples of this. The Pittsburgh Steelers are assumed to be good at running the ball. The Chicago Bears play strong defense. The Dallas Mavericks run and gun. The New York Yankees rely on the home run for offense. Some of these are founded, and some aren’t. But these perceptions persist for extended periods of time with very little mainstream questioning.

I bring this up because of the Minnesota Twins. Like the teams above, the Twins are assumed to play fundamentally sound, hard-nosed baseball. The accompanying and perplexing assessment for such teams is that they “play the game the right way.” Teams that are labeled in this way are assumed to be good at bunting, hitting-and-running, stealing bases, and fielding the ball. Because this is the persisting perception of the Twins, broadcasters waste little time in mentioning the smart and tough nature of the team. During the recent Twins-Yankees series, it took Michael Kay, Paul O’Neill, and David Cone all of one inning before they began to extol the virtues of “Twins Baseball.” They regurgitated the perceptions with which the Twins have been branded, which got me thinking about the accuracy of such proclamations. So, I looked up the Twins’ performance over the last six years in the three most “playing the game the right way”-ish categories: stolen bases, defense, and baserunning.

The Twins’ stolen base percentage from 2004-2009 has ranked 12th, 16th, 15th, 5th, 19th, and 17th. During the same timeframe, their defensive efficiency has ranked 22nd, 7th, 17th, 16th, 19th, and 12th. Lastly, their baserunning has ranked 7th, 23rd, 6th, 7th, 3rd, and 14th. These numbers tell us that the Twins have been average at stealing, average on defense, and good at running the bases in recent history. They are not, however, significant enough to justify the continual portrayal of the Twins as an organization that sets the bar in these categories. For at least the last five and a quarter seasons, “Twins Baseball” has been an unfounded perception. 

I suppose it’s unrealistic to expect broadcasters to go suddenly against everything that they’ve believed and said about the Twins over the last several years. But a couple of in-game events that directly opposed the perception of the Twins’ went completely without mention in one contest against the Yankees. The Yankees’ Brett Gardner blooped a ball down the left field line. Twins’ left fielder Denard Span misplayed it woefully, leading to an inside-the-park home run for the speedy Gardner. This defensive lapse went without mentioning. Standing on second and with one out, the Twins’ Brendan Harris took off for third base on a ball hit in front of him (something even my fifth graders know not to do). He was promptly thrown out at third. Both plays would qualify as gaffes for any team, so I expected the broadcasters to be all over these failures to live up to the Twins’ purported standards. Both plays passed with no discussion. 

The coup de grace came from color commentator Paul O’Neill. Late in the same game, Twins’ first baseman Justin Morneau made a nice play to rob Nick Swisher of a hit. O’Neill:

This is how they win. Defensively and offensively, they do everything right. When you show up to the ballpark to play them, you know you’re going to have to beat them. They’re not going to give you anything.

How quickly we forget that, in the very same game, the Twins made two critical errors – one on defense, and one on offense. 

My point is that rigorous adherence to perceptions, while easy and fun, does nothing to raise the level of analysis or discussion about sports. With all the incredible and accessible information available to just about anyone these days, there is no reason why anyone should resort to the lazy recollection of useless labels in an attempt to provide insight. It just doesn’t work. We would all be better off if we simply examined the objects of our curiosity with an open mind and a receptiveness to any realities the information uncovers.

Steve Phillips’ Assessment Of Carlos Beltran Is New Nadir In Sports Analysis

I’m a little late to the party on this one, but the most recent bit of stupidity from ESPN’s Steve Phillips warrants mentioning, however tardy. 

As you might know, the much-maligned former general manager went off the deep end a little bit in a recent Mets-Braves broadcast. Phillips apparently partook in the current fad amongst baseball analysts and sports radio hosts, which is the diagnosis of what exactly is wrong with the New York Mets (answer: it’s May). The popular conclusion to this diagnosis – thanks partly to the team’s own GM – is usually that the Mets lack an “edge” or the toughness necessary to win consistently. Phillips did nothing to correct this ambiguous and useless sentiment. Instead, he offered a more specific criticism by targeting center fielder Carlos Beltran as a symbol of what is wrong with the Mets. Of course, his argument maintained the total ambiguity that so often characterizes a poorly conceived position on an issue. Many writers took note of Phillips’ dumbfounding tirade and responded with an appropriate mix of disbelief and chagrin. I’d recommend you check out Ted Berg, Bob Raissman, Sam Page, and Joe Posnanski’s responses in particular.

Steve Phillips’ recent chat on ESPN.com provided an opportunity for him to clarify, amend, and reconsider his clearly wrongheaded position on the Mets and Carlos Beltran. As a general fan of clarity and accountability, I was more than a little interested in Phillips’ response to the inevitable question about his infamous denunciation. Indeed, the last question of the chat was an admirably restrained disagreement with Phillips’ position. In light of the overwhelming evidence against Phillips’ argument, I was sure he would concede at least some ground. I was totally wrong:

Beltran Stays (New York): Steve, while I respect your work, I disagree with your statements about Carlos Beltran on Sunday Night Baseball. The guy has done nothing but produce, and name me a CF who’s better in the game right now. 

Steve Phillips: If the Mets don’t make the playoffs, I firmly believe they need to reconfigure the core of this team. While Beltran does have talent, I just don’t see him as a winning player. Even after my comments on Sunday night, Beltran let a fly ball drop in between himself and Angel Pagan in the Dodger game. I see him putting up numbers but not making plays to win games. I would take Torii Hunter, Grady Sizemore, Curtis Granderson, and Nate McLouth over Beltran, and use the financial difference to improve the team in other ways. Beltran isn’t a $17 million dollar a year player. He just doesn’t have the kind of impact for that kind of money. 

Steve Phillips: Many people think that Alex Rodriguez is the best player in the game, but he’s never won anything. I look at Beltran in a similar fashion as Rodriguez–a great talent that just doesn’t seem to have what it takes to win championships. Maybe the Mets can keep him and add pieces to the core around him and still win. But when you’re dealing with a budget and the screams of immediacy in New York, I’m not sure the Mets can wait to piece it together around him. I know there are a lot of people who disagree with me, but it’s just the way I see it. Beltran is a very good person and a solid citizen, in addition to being a guy who puts up numbers. I like him, I just don’t think they can win with him. 

Once again, Phillips reveals that he is simply not a smart person. His arbitrary labeling of Beltran as a non-”winning player” illustrates his total ignorance of how baseball works while doing nothing to cut through the pervasive ambiguity of his argument. Allow me to be perfectly clear about the fact that Beltran is an exceptional, wonderful, Hall of Fame-caliber baseball player. His .370 batting average ranks first in baseball among outfielders. That goes for his .467 on-base percentage. His .584 slugging percentage ranks eighth. He does these things while providing extraordinary baserunning and defense. Phillips just cannot seem to grasp that these numbers represent the careful recording of real-life events that have occurred in real-life baseball games played by real-life baseball players. “Putting up numbers,” particularly those of Beltran’s caliber, is synonymous with ”making plays to win games.” It’s also ridiculous and unfair to say that Beltran “just doesn’t seem to have what it takes to win championships.” He’s been on some horrendous teams and some unlucky teams in his career. That’s why he hasn’t won a World Series.

I wonder if Phillips thinks the same of Tony Gwynn, Ken Griffey Jr., Jim Thome, or any other Hall of Fame-caliber player that hasn’t won a championship. I’m guessing he’d draw yet another arbitrary and ambiguous distinction to keep Beltran separate from those players.