I Understand So Little

I could write four thousand words about the Yankees’ 7-6 loss to the Angels last night. In virtually every respect, it was a gut-wrenching game to watch. Bad A.J. showed up. There was more suspect umpiring. There were real rallies and near rallies. Many runners were left on base. The bullpen management (like I can go two consecutive posts without mentioning this) was terrible. It was just a long and hard game to watch, the sort of game that I’m pretty sure cut ten or fifteen minutes off my life.

Another cranky manifesto seems masochistic to me, so I’ll just pose all the questions that were running through my head throughout the game. Maybe one of you can shed some light on the answer, because I understand very little of the following:

• Why must the Yankees continue to start Jose Molina when A.J. Burnett pitches? And, given that they’re intent on doing this, why let Molina even hit in the top of the 3rd inning, when you’re already down 4-0? The Yankees reaped no benefits from his allegedly strong relationship with Burnett, and then let him hit. What’s the point?

• On the heels of an incredible six-run rally, why send Burnett out for the bottom of the 7th inning? And, given that they did that, why warm up Damaso Marte and Joba Chamberlain as your backup plan? If Burnett is out, that means he allowed baserunners, and Marte (terrible) and Chamberlain (trouble throwing strikes) are not reliever you want to deploy with runners on base.

• Where is David Robertson? Why not send Robertson out for the 7th inning? It could go Robertson (7th), Phil Hughes (8th), Mariano Rivera (9th), with each reliever fitting neatly into the stupid but conventional role system that managers love so much. Of course, the right move was to send out Rivera for the 7th and 8th, but it’s clear at this point that that’s asking too much.

• I’m still not done with this Robertson thing. Why are Hughes and Chamberlain both so clearly ahead of Robertson on Joe Girardi’s Totem Pole of Trust? Is it because Girardi thinks Robertson is a kid and not ready for the big moment? He got out of that bases loaded, nobody out jam against the Twins. He’s also older than Hughes and Chamberlain. Is it because Girardi thinks Robertson is worse than them? Chamberlain had a 4.75 ERA this season in 157 innings; Hughes had a 3.03 in 86. Look at Robertson’s numbers and tell me that he isn’t worthy of a shot. Is it because Robertson – through no fault of his own – has never before been branded as a baseball team’s set-up man (as Hughes and Chamberlain have), making him an unrealistic option with a late lead? I fear that’s exactly what it is.

• Why use Rivera when down 7-6 in the 8th, but not when tied 6-6 in the 7th? Is it because the number in the innings column is “7″ and not “8″ or “9″? I fear that’s exactly what it is.

• Down one run with two outs in the top of the 9th, why pinch-run for Alex Rodriguez at first, and then not send the runner? Once again, Girardi did something just because he could, and not because it was the right move.

I just don’t get this game sometimes.

Alfredo Aceves Over David Robertson?

It’s my birthday, and it’s been a long day at that, so I’m not going to delve into the minutest of details like I usually do when I’m dissecting questionable bullpen management. If you’re really interested, just check out the play-by-play index and the box score, and you’ll get all the context you need.

I simply don’t understand why Yankees manager Joe Girardi pulled reliever David Robertson in favor of Alfredo Aceves with two outs and no one on in the bottom of the 11th inning. I suppose a cursory glance at their numbers might suggest that Aceves is a better pitcher than Robertson. Aceves, who relieved Robertson to face righty Howie Kendrick, posted a .228/.278/.414 line against righties in 2009. Robertson’s line was .237/.343/.409. With no runners on, opponents’ slugging takes on greater importance, and Robertson holds the edge in that regard. He allowed 0.7 HR/9, while Aceves allowed 1.1. Nevertheless, they’re basically the same in that situation, with Aceves possessing superior command and Robertson superior stuff (second in baseball with a 12.98 K/9).

So why yank Robertson, who had just convincingly retired Juan Rivera and Kendry Morales? He’s right-handed, just like Aceves. Robertson allows more batters to reach base, but strikes out more of them and keeps the ball in the park better than Aceves. Neither has a history against Kendrick (1 for 2 against Robertson with a single, Aceves had never faced him). Robertson threw 33 pitches on Saturday night, but Aceves threw 24. The choice between the two is a wash, so why make a move?

Irritatingly, I can’t avoid wondering if Girardi didn’t opt for Aceves because of his perceived veteran experience. Aceves, who is 26, had experience pitching in a Mexican league before signing with the Yankees in 2008. Robertson is 24. Both are in their second year of Major League Baseball. I fear this is the information Girardi relied on when making this baffling pitching change that may well have cost the Yankees the game. Perhaps I’m wrong. I hope I am. But any minute now, Girardi will be answering questions about this move, and I’m extremely curious to hear his reasoning. Because this reeks of over-managing to me.

UPDATE: We have just been graced with Joe Girardi’s explanation, and here it is: “We liked the matchup with [Aceves] better, and it didn’t work.”

In honor of this quotation, I’m adding the “feeble explanations” tag to the Fan Interference tag database.

Jim Tracy’s Incompetence Costs Rockies The Series

Baseball Prospectus’ Joe Sheehan and I have a fair amount in common. We’re both native New Yorkers. We both live on the Upper West Side of Manhattan (he has revealed this many times in chats, so no, I am not stalking him). We’re both Yankees fans. And we could both probably spend a little more time at the gym. Most pertinently, though, we’re both vigilant of and easily inflamed by bad bullpen management. Just as I’ve written piece after piece after piece about this broken part of the game, Sheehan has done the same many times over in his much higher-profile forum. I’m fairly certain that if we were to watch a baseball game together, we’d be able to communicate telepathically from the sixth inning onward.

In addition to sharing my beliefs about bullpen management, Sheehan is one hell of a baseball analyst. He’s wonderful at examining the nuances of player usage and identifying and tracking trends in performance, and he does both with a refreshing balance of conviction and humility. And, once in a while, he comes up with an eerily prescient nugget, much like this one from his October 6th column:

“Phillies fans love my opinions of Ryan Howard, so let’s just reduce the entire discussion to one line: .226/.310/.444 career, .207/.298/.356 in 2009. Jim Tracy has to bring that guy to the plate as often as possible in this series. Any time he allows the other guy, the .307/.409/.661 one, the one who hit .319/.395/.691 this year, to bat in a game-critical situation, he deserves to lose, because that guy is absolutely devastating. It really is that simple. Charlie Manuel isn’t going to take Howard out, so if Tracy elects to give up 450 points of OPS in any situation that matters, he’s just this side of throwing the game.”

The first two sets of numbers are Ryan Howard’s statistics against left-handed pitchers. The next set shows his performance against right-handed pitchers. As you can see, Howard has been pretty abysmal against southpaws since putting on a major league uniform, but this has been particularly true in 2009. These are the numbers (and this is the quote) that were running through my mind over and over again during the top of the ninth inning in last night’s Phillies-Rockies game.

Twins Win Despite Gardenhire’s Gaffe

As most people can confirm, one of life’s most unfortunate realities is the inverse relationship between the passage of time and the desirability of an event. When you’re looking so desperately forward to something, time seems to slow to a crawl as that something approaches. It’s why Christmas Eve was the most interminable recurring period of my childhood and why, come November, Spring Training never seems to get any closer. Then there’s the cruel corollary: when you fear and fret over an occasion, it’s upon you in no time at all. It’s why my senior year of college was over before I knew what happened, and why a night’s sleep before an important job interview transpires in the blink of an eye. I’ve come to accept this phenomenon, but I still wish it were different.

Miraculously, yesterday proved to be a merciful exception to this sadistic law. The first thing on my mind in the morning was that evening’s one-game playoff between the Detroit Tigers and the Minnesota Twins, followed closely by the Yankees’ impending matchup against the victor. My morning passed quickly as I lesson-planned and napped. The afternoon followed suit, aided largely by the incredibly cooperative behavior of my students. It was soon 4:30 and time to go home. I rushed home on the 2 train (to whatever extent being at the total mercy of the conductor during rush hour pedestrian traffic can be considered “rushing”), quickly changed clothes, and plopped down on the couch just as the third inning expired. The thing I was looking forward to the most occurred in no time at all. I was spared.

Or so I thought. As you know by now, the Twins defeated the Tigers in a remarkable extra-inning affair. Even though one got the distinct (and totally accurate) impression that these were two mediocre teams playing mediocre baseball, the game was awfully entertaining. Young Rick Porcello pitched very well on the national stage, striking out eight in five and two-thirds innings before being prematurely yanked. Scott Baker rebounded from a rocky start and did his usual command-and-control thing for six strong innings. Then, as many playoff games do, the contest turned into a battle of the bullpens. This is when I learned that you can only evade the cruel fates for so long.

Two Bullpen-Related Notes From Tonight’s Rays-Yankees Game

In an attempt to distract myself from Joe Girardi’s perplexing decision to remove Phil Hughes in favor of Phil Coke, I would like to share two bullpen-related thoughts gleaned from this game. Because, let’s be honest, I just don’t write enough about bullpens.

Yankees’ broadcasters Michael Kay and David Cone have spent much of the night criticizing the Rays’ bullpen for systemic ineptitude. Kay in particular has continually referred to the lack of clear-cut roles given to Rays relievers, citing their general ineffectiveness as preventing such a delegation. Because there is no “7th inning guy” or “8th inning guy” – as Kay phrases it – manager Joe Maddon’s job is made much more difficult.

I have two problems with this, the first of which is factual. Despite their purported maladies, the Rays’ bullpen hasn’t been bad so far. Its 4.14 ERA ranks 14th in baseball. Opponents have posted a .322 OBP and .396 SLG against Rays relievers, ranking 7th and 19th, respectively. Their 1.84 K/BB ranks 14th. These numbers all reveal an average bullpen – not one deserving of incessant criticism. Perhaps this seems like nitpicking, but I found Kay and Cone’s comments a little disingenuous, especially when they’ve also been praising the Yankees’ poor bullpen for its flexibility and dynamism. Yes, that Yankees bullpen.

My second quarrel is more philosophical. Mainstream analysts are of the uniform opinion that not having clearly defined roles for relievers significantly hinders a team. We are told that not having that “7th inning guy” or “8th inning guy” makes a manager’s life miserable, necessitating the painstaking “piecing together” of a game’s final 9-12 outs. The implication is that clearly defined relief roles – thereby enabling push-button management – allows for the more effective deployment of relievers and a better chance of winning baseball games.

I disagree with this implication. Too often, managers create static roles for their relievers as a means of avoiding criticism. For example, if Team A is up 4-3 in the 8th inning, that team will deploy its “8th inning guy” to protect the slim lead. If the reliever relinquishes the advantage, the manager faces little questioning because, well, he used his “8th inning guy” in the 8th inning. This rigid assignment of roles does more to protect a manager from criticism than it does to win games. It’s unimaginative, lazy, and timid management. Alternatively, it seems likely to me that “piecing together” the final outs of a game can present tactically advantageous opportunities – if the manager is willing to put in the work. I hope that a manager will take that risk some day soon.

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.”

More Puzzling Bullpen Management

This afternoon’s Twins-Yankees game featured yet another bit of puzzling bullpen management. The Yankees had a 3-2 lead going into the top of the 8th inning. With the Twins’ 3-4-5 hitters due up, Yankees manager Joe Girardi elected to leave Phil Coke in the game after he entered in the 7th. Naturally, I was incensed because it was the optimal time to use Mariano Rivera.

(A-Rod hits a walk-off homer. I jump around jubilantly, debate whether or not to continue complaining, and decide that I will.)

Equally naturally, Coke gave up two runs and the lead shifted to 4-3 in favor of the Twins. The Yankees then tied the game up in the bottom of the 8th, and Girardi brought in Rivera to pitch the 9th. Fine. The game goes into extra innings. Fine. Rivera comes out to pitch the 10th. Fi… wait, what?

If Rivera was available to pitch two innings, then why didn’t he pitch the 8th when the Yankees had a slim lead against the heart of the order? It’s a troubling logical inconsistency, and I can’t think of a good explanation for Girardi’s curious decisions.

Modern Bullpen Management Hurts Teams’ Chances Of Victory

 

Under modern bullpen management, elite relievers like Mariano Rivera are regularly misused.

 

This afternoon’s Indians-Yankees game featured yet another example of how modern bullpen management is broken. I’ve written about this before, but the idealistic side of me seems to think that I can affect change by blogging about it. So, less than one week later, I’m back at it again.

The catastrophe began in the top of the 7th inning, with the game tied at one. Yankees manager Joe Girardi brought reliever Jose Veras in to start the inning against Cleveland’s 2-3-4 hitters – roughly the toughest part of the batting order. I would have used another reliever (you can probably guess who), but I’ve totally abandoned any hope of managers using their nominal closer to start any inning that isn’t the 9th. As a result, I accepted Girardi’s decision and hoped for the best. Of course, my hope and faith were immediately crushed when Veras walks Mark DeRosa and allows Victor Martinez to double. It’s still a 1-1 game in the 7th, but there are runners on second and third with no one out. The outcome of the game probably rests on the Yankees’ ability to squirm out of this, particularly given the Indians’ strong bullpen.

Like every manager in baseball, Joe Girardi intuitively understands the importance of this situation, but does not act on it. Cleanup hitter Jhonny Peralta (not a typo, for those new to the game) doubled, scoring DeRosa and Martinez. 3-1 Indians. Girardi replaces Veras with Damaso Marte, who proceeds to allow seven more runs through a horrid combination of fielding errors, homers, and wildness. When the dust settles, the Indians are leading 10-1.

My understanding of a manager’s job is pretty simple and, I’d imagine, fairly accurate. I think his job is to maximize the team’s chance of winning the current game while balancing that task with the requirements for victories in the future. Basically, his job is to try and win now, but don’t do anything that would really hurt the team in the future either. I’m sure it’s a tough job with a tremendous amount of pressure to perform. I can muster that much sympathy.

With that being said, I don’t understand why Girardi and his peers continually manage their bullpen in a way that clearly hurts the team and, more frustratingly, defies all reason. Girardi should have used Mariano Rivera once DeRosa walked. If not then, certainly once Martinez doubled. Again, I’m positive Girardi’s gut was telling him “this is the game right here” with runners on second and third and no one out. I’m sure of it. It would logically follow that he would insert Rivera into the game, since Rivera is his best reliever and the game’s outcome was in the balance. Clearly, this did not happen. Governed by nothing but provincial, traditional, and illogical thinking, Girardi went to inferior relievers in an attempt to control the damage. He did this because Rivera pitches no inning but the 9th, and he must have a lead to protect instead of one to prevent. Need him earlier than the 9th inning? Like, seriously, unquestionably need him to win the game? No, because it is not the 9th inning.

The overarching implication of modern bullpen management is that the 9th inning – solely because it is the last in the sequence – is inherently more difficult for pitchers than any other frame. The byproduct of this belief was the creation of the “closer,” or, the only reliever with the fortitude to navigate such a pressure-packed situation. The role of the “closer” has, in turn, produced a widespread and unquestioned code of in-game management that regularly hurts teams’ chances of success. Managers simply will not use their “closer” (who is almost always the team’s best reliever) unless the team has a lead in the 9th inning, even if the team desperately needs him. 

Managers need to stop saving their best relievers to protect leads that they might not get. It’s as simple as that. As Baseball Prospectus’ Joe Sheehan said, the first manager to realize and act on this is going to the Hall of Fame.

Classic Bullpen Mismanagement Resurrects (Ha!) On Easter

When I was a child – and maybe for just a bit beyond then – my mother would hide two Easter baskets in the apartment for me and my younger sister to find. Motivated by sheer gluttony and competitive spirit, we would discerningly rampage through each room on our quest for sugar. Inevitably, with a little help from our sympathetic creator (not that creator), we would find the cradles of candy and proceed to trade with one another. White chocolate was usually the first to go. As time has passed, I have noticed that the baskets’ altitude was inversely proportional to our ages. Cabinets and closet shelves were popular hiding spots in our infancy. Later on, low-lying nooks and crannies were more in vogue. It would seem that we came by our competitive spirit honestly.

I mention this because Easter Sunday has always been a day of discovery for me. Yesterday continued that tradition, although in new ways. Expecting the Yankees-Royals game to be rained out, I consented to visit nearby Roosevelt Island with my girlfriend. Neither of us had ever been, and it seemed like a pleasant way to spend a beautiful day. Of course, several text messages from friends revealed that no, it was not raining in Kansas City and yes, baseball was being played. Oops. My girlfriend compassionately suggested that we find a sports bar on the island, but my word was my word. Nevertheless, this resulted in my third noteworthy discovery of the day – there are no such establishments on Roosevelt Island. 

Throughout the afternoon, two loyal friends peppered my phone with game updates, eventually leading to a painfully clear depiction of what was happening. Quite simply, the Yankees’ bullpen was blowing the game. I remained calm (no, really, I have a witness) until my return from the island, when I could carefully examine the box score and play-by-play information. Joba Chamberlain had pitched six strong innings, allowing four hits and one earned run, while striking out five and walking one. Reliever Brian Bruney pitched a perfect 7th inning, after which the score remained 4-3 Yankees. Unfortunately, the 8th inning brought the fourth and final discovery of an otherwise blissful day. Namely, it would appear that major league managers – even those with industrial engineering degrees from Northwestern University – still don’t know how to manage a bullpen effectively.