... that Willie Randolph was considering a lineup with Paul Loduca batting second. It didn't seem possible, but a search on the Internet revealed at least one article that suggested its possibility:
"A hitter who uses the entire field, Lo Duca also could end up batting second behind speedy Jose Reyes, who led the NL with 60 stolen bases in 2005."
Now, this outrageous idea might just be a rumor. I'm not sure if Randolph ever suggested this or if it's just hot stove league slow news day nonsense.
While Randolph is pushing the Mets' reliance on speed, and maybe there's a reason to bat Reyes first since he's so fast on the basepaths, the Reyes-LoDuca 1-2 punch would feature the two worst offensive players on the entire team batting first and second, thereby ensuring that they get the most plate appearances of any players on the team.
While Willie may be dreaming dream of the Glory Days when he and Rickey Henderson batted 1-2 for the Yankees, there is a difference: Rickey and Willie could hit.
Reyes is a leadoff hitter whose on-base% last year was .300 and whose lifetime on-base% is .303. Paul LoDuca's on-base% last year was .334 and his liftetime on-base% is .339.
1-2? They should be batting 7-8.
Are the NY baseball managers just yanking our chains? I mean, the other day Randolph says that the Mets ought to make the playoffs with ther $120-or-so million payroll ... as long as Pedro is healthy.
If I'm reading too much into it, then perhaps I'm misunderstanding, but it seems to me that he's giving his $100 million team an out. If Pedro is hurt, then you don't expect to even win a wild card? Maybe that's not what he meant, but that's how I took it.
"No excuses, except for the following excuses."
Then, after hearing this, all the NY papers seem to think Randolph set high expectations. This is a bold claim. As long as Pedro isn't hurt, I expect our $100 million team to hold off the Brewers and win the wild card. Because I'm kooky optimistic like that.
Did Randolph seriously have to be reminded that Steve Trachsel is part of his rotation?
If Torre seriously puzzled by his starting rotation options and also his starting lineup options?
Can't be. They're just kidding, right? They're just shooting the breeze with the press, right?
Right?
Sunday, February 19, 2006
Friday, February 17, 2006
Darren Daulton Provides Off-Season Entertainment.
"I've been thrown in jail five or six times," Daulton says from his home in Tampa. "Nicole thinks I'm crazy. She blames everything on drugs and drinking. But I don't take drugs and I'm not a drunk. Nicole just doesn't understand metaphysics."
Honey, that wasn't me who was drinking and got thrown in jail. It was just one of my planes of existence.
"I didn't have my first out-of-body experience until I was 35," he says. Curiously, the epiphany occurred at one of baseball's holiest shrines -- Wrigley Field. "I hit a line-drive just inside the third base line to help win a game," he recalls. "The strange thing was I didn't hit that ball. I never hit balls inside the third base line!"
He left the ballpark in tears. "I told my wife, 'It wasn't me who swung that bat! It wasn't me!'" he says. "She thought I was Looney Tunes."
"Reality is created and guarded by numeric patterns that overlap and awaken human consciousness, like a giant matrix or hologram," writes the .245 lifetime hitter. "They are created by sacred geometry -- numbers, the language of the universe, codes of awakening -- such as 11:11, which represent twin strands of DNA about to return to balance. Eleven equals BALANCE."
During the Dutch Enlightenment, No. 11 has been as significant as it was in Spinal Tap. "I'll wake up at night and look at the clock and it's 11:11," he says. "I'll turn on the TV and see a baseball game tied at 11 in the 11th inning. I'll look out the window and see a car passing with 1111 on the license plate. The car will turn into a driveway with 1111 on the mailbox."
Earth, Daulton believes, is entering a quadrant of space in which the "vibrational energy" will increase dramatically. "The Mayan calendar stops at Dec. 21, 2012 -- the date the Mayans believed the world would end," he says. "On that day, at 11:11 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time, those who are ready to ascend will vanish from this plane of existence, like the crew of the Enterprise in Star Trek."
Honey, that wasn't me who was drinking and got thrown in jail. It was just one of my planes of existence.
"I didn't have my first out-of-body experience until I was 35," he says. Curiously, the epiphany occurred at one of baseball's holiest shrines -- Wrigley Field. "I hit a line-drive just inside the third base line to help win a game," he recalls. "The strange thing was I didn't hit that ball. I never hit balls inside the third base line!"
He left the ballpark in tears. "I told my wife, 'It wasn't me who swung that bat! It wasn't me!'" he says. "She thought I was Looney Tunes."
"Reality is created and guarded by numeric patterns that overlap and awaken human consciousness, like a giant matrix or hologram," writes the .245 lifetime hitter. "They are created by sacred geometry -- numbers, the language of the universe, codes of awakening -- such as 11:11, which represent twin strands of DNA about to return to balance. Eleven equals BALANCE."
During the Dutch Enlightenment, No. 11 has been as significant as it was in Spinal Tap. "I'll wake up at night and look at the clock and it's 11:11," he says. "I'll turn on the TV and see a baseball game tied at 11 in the 11th inning. I'll look out the window and see a car passing with 1111 on the license plate. The car will turn into a driveway with 1111 on the mailbox."
Earth, Daulton believes, is entering a quadrant of space in which the "vibrational energy" will increase dramatically. "The Mayan calendar stops at Dec. 21, 2012 -- the date the Mayans believed the world would end," he says. "On that day, at 11:11 a.m. Greenwich Mean Time, those who are ready to ascend will vanish from this plane of existence, like the crew of the Enterprise in Star Trek."
Sunday, February 12, 2006
Dan Marino is the Best Quarterback Ever.
Or, "Darren really does have too much time on his hands."
Or, "Take Mattingly's monument out of Monument Park because Yogi's monument keeps laughing at it."
Or, "That's baseball for ya!"
Or, "Barry Bonds doesn't pitch."
While climbing out from under the oeuvre of sportswriting opinion that is expressing amazement and faux outrage because Alex Rodriguez has not won a World Series after ten seasons in the big leagues, I started to think of a team.
A team of current players only.
A team full o' Chokers and Losers.
I now present the Chokerville Losers, along with number of rings they've won in their careers (token rings not included):
Starting Lineup
c - Mike Piazza (0)
1b - Frank Thomas (0)
2b - Craig Biggio (0)
3b - Alex Rodriguez (0)
ss - Nomar Garciaparra (0)
lf - Barry Bonds (0)
cf- Ken Griffey Jr. (0)
rf - Sammy Sosa (0)
dh - Jeff Bagwell (0)
Bench
Jim Edmonds (0)
Jeff Kent (0)
Rafael Palmeiro (0)
Ivan Rodriguez (1)
Miguel Tejada (0)
Jim Thome (0)
Omar Vizquel (0)
Starting Pitchers
Roger Clemens (2)
Tom Glavine (1)
Randy Johnson (1)
Greg Maddux (1)
Pedro Martinez (1)
Bullpen
Roberto Hernandez (0)
Trevor Hoffman (0)
John Smoltz (1)
Billy Wagner (0)
Purty good team, actually. I even left quite a few sluggers off the team just to make sure I had some decent backup infielders and a bullpen, which I'll never need to use.
My team has accumulated (approximately) 17 MVPs, 22 Cy Young Awards, and 168 All Star selections.
My team has at least 19 Hall of Famers out of 25 players. Even more than the '98 Yankees.
Yet, in (approximately) 349 cumulative seasons, my team has only won 8 Championship rings. That's only 4 more rings than Chuck Knoblauch won all by himself.
Is my team cherry picked? Sure.
Is it rigged to prove a point? Yup.
But go ahead and pick any other roster consisting of 25 current players. Heck, you can pick any player going back 25 years, as long as I get to add Edgar Martinez (0) and Tony Gwynn (0). You can pick all the clutch players you want.
Will your team be able to beat my Loser team? I doubt it.
Or, "Take Mattingly's monument out of Monument Park because Yogi's monument keeps laughing at it."
Or, "That's baseball for ya!"
Or, "Barry Bonds doesn't pitch."
While climbing out from under the oeuvre of sportswriting opinion that is expressing amazement and faux outrage because Alex Rodriguez has not won a World Series after ten seasons in the big leagues, I started to think of a team.
A team of current players only.
A team full o' Chokers and Losers.
I now present the Chokerville Losers, along with number of rings they've won in their careers (token rings not included):
Starting Lineup
c - Mike Piazza (0)
1b - Frank Thomas (0)
2b - Craig Biggio (0)
3b - Alex Rodriguez (0)
ss - Nomar Garciaparra (0)
lf - Barry Bonds (0)
cf- Ken Griffey Jr. (0)
rf - Sammy Sosa (0)
dh - Jeff Bagwell (0)
Bench
Jim Edmonds (0)
Jeff Kent (0)
Rafael Palmeiro (0)
Ivan Rodriguez (1)
Miguel Tejada (0)
Jim Thome (0)
Omar Vizquel (0)
Starting Pitchers
Roger Clemens (2)
Tom Glavine (1)
Randy Johnson (1)
Greg Maddux (1)
Pedro Martinez (1)
Bullpen
Roberto Hernandez (0)
Trevor Hoffman (0)
John Smoltz (1)
Billy Wagner (0)
Purty good team, actually. I even left quite a few sluggers off the team just to make sure I had some decent backup infielders and a bullpen, which I'll never need to use.
My team has accumulated (approximately) 17 MVPs, 22 Cy Young Awards, and 168 All Star selections.
My team has at least 19 Hall of Famers out of 25 players. Even more than the '98 Yankees.
Yet, in (approximately) 349 cumulative seasons, my team has only won 8 Championship rings. That's only 4 more rings than Chuck Knoblauch won all by himself.
Is my team cherry picked? Sure.
Is it rigged to prove a point? Yup.
But go ahead and pick any other roster consisting of 25 current players. Heck, you can pick any player going back 25 years, as long as I get to add Edgar Martinez (0) and Tony Gwynn (0). You can pick all the clutch players you want.
Will your team be able to beat my Loser team? I doubt it.
Because he knows from empirical data.
"How come we don't hear nearly as much about Roethlisberger having it all over Eli, now and forever, when Roethlisberger plays the way he did last Sunday.
Or are we only supposed to use the empirical data we get from him when he's going good?"
Empirical data? Mike Lupica wants to bring empirical data into the discussion?Dem's some big words for a guy who is wondering why long-forgotten Eli Manning isn't still part of the national discourse. After the NFL season is over. After the comparisons have been made and Roethlisberger has won hands down.
A guy who is the youngest player to ever win the Super Bowl, who won four straight road playoff games, and is practically undefeated as a starter in the NFL. Compared to a guy who was shut out at home in his first playoff game, the first time a home team had been shut out in the playoffs in 25 years.
This is how come we don't hear nearly as much about Roethlisberger having it all over Eli. Eli hasn't earned the right to be part of the discussion.
But let's get back to empirical data. If Mike Lupica is such an empirical data egghead whiz kid, I wonder how he can compare Randy Johnson's 2005 season to Carlos Beltran's 2005 season:
"Okay, I've got the first day of pitchers and catchers in the pool for when Randy Johnson tells us he just needed a year to get adjusted to New York.
March 1 for Carlos Beltran to say the same thing in Port St. Lucie.
And if they both don't play up to their previous standards this year, I say we write it all off to the famous New York City sophomore jinx."
Let's take a gander at the empirical data for Randy Johnson and Carlos Beltran (the Internet makes this so convenient!).While I don't doubt that both Randy Johnson and Carlos Beltran will say idiotic things to the press about adjusting to New York, it really is the NY writers who thrive on the notion. It's so tough to play in New York because your doppelganger might appear in a back page cartoon at the Daily News.
But we only care about empirical data, right?
Randy Johnson was 17-8, 3.79 era, 225 2/3 inning pitched, 207 hits, 47 walks, 211 strikeouts.
The homeruns were way too high and he probably didn't meet the high expectations that accompany a five-time Cy Young Award winner, but how high were those expectations?
My expectations were 18 wins and an era under 3.50. I certainly wasn't expecting 25 wins and an era under 2.50. Were you? If so, are you crazy? Don't you know the batters in the AL can hit?
Unit was 4th in wins, 5th in innings pitched, 17th in era, 2nd in WHIP (normally, this would be terrific, but he gave up way too many homeruns), 2nd in strikeouts, and 4th in strikeouts-per-nine-innings, if that floats your boat.
Being empirical about it, I'd probably claim that Unit was still among the top ten starters in the AL (I tend to elevate the importance of innings pitches and quality starts), and Unit was certainly the best starting pitcher on the Yankees.
Now let's move on to Carlos Beltran. Empirically, of course.
.266, 16 hrs, 78 rbis.
.320 ob%, .414 slugging%, 83 runs, 17 stolen bases, 56 walks, 96 strikeouts, 34 doubles, 2 triples.
34 doubles is above-average. Tied for 27th in the league.
17 stolen bases is not too impressive, but it's still enough for top 20 in the league.
That's it. Nothing else about Carlos Beltran's season distinguishes him from an average NL centerfielder. Only his salary is in the top five.
Empirically speaking, please don't elevate a shlep like 2005 Beltran into the elite company of 2005 Unit.
As for the notion of Sophomore Slump, this is the domain of lazy sportswriters. (By the way, has Derek Jeter ever been able to duplicate the previous "high standards" he set in 1999? Has he just been in an extended Senior Slump?)
Empirical data is not too concerned with the reasons why. If I was a Mets fan, I wouldn't waste too much time wondering why Carlos Beltran stunk out the joint, I'd be unable to get past the stinkin' pile of garbage that my team was paying $100 million for. The empirical data is so damning, I don't need a reason why. I'm more concerned with the what and the who.
Friday, February 10, 2006
I choose Neveruary.
From a CBS Sportsline poll:
When is the best time to play the WBC?
-- February or March
-- November or December
When is the best time to play the WBC?
-- February or March
-- November or December
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Two words: "wind sprints."
"We want to keep the DH spot available for a lot of reasons. Jason, one. Bernie Williams, another. (Gary) Sheffield. (Hideki) Matsui. By the time the division series came up last year, we had a couple of guys that were exhausted."
First of all, thanks to the Daily News for the parenthetical clarification regarding Yankee players. While discussing potential designated hitters for the Yankees, I wasn't sure who Torre was talking about when he said "Sheffield" and "Matsui."
When he referred to "Matsui," was he talking about Yankee outfielder Hideki Matsui or was he talking about Met second baseman Kaz Matsui?
When he referred to "Sheffield," was he talking about Yankee outfielder Gary Sheffield or was he talking about Fran's boss in The Nanny?
More importantly, why are Yankee players exhausted after a season of Nine-Man-Stand-Around?
Torre, you're the manager. Whip these guys into shape. Maybe if (Gary) Sheffield and (Hideki) Matsui did some suicide drills in April, they wouldn't get so exhausted standing around in the outfield.
While you're at it, teach Robinson Cano how to bunt. Get a little old school on the rook. Send Kelly Stinnett out there with a bucket of baseballs and they don't leave until Cano gets down 100 bunts in a row. Every time he misses a bunt, the next pitch goes right at his head.
First of all, thanks to the Daily News for the parenthetical clarification regarding Yankee players. While discussing potential designated hitters for the Yankees, I wasn't sure who Torre was talking about when he said "Sheffield" and "Matsui."
When he referred to "Matsui," was he talking about Yankee outfielder Hideki Matsui or was he talking about Met second baseman Kaz Matsui?
When he referred to "Sheffield," was he talking about Yankee outfielder Gary Sheffield or was he talking about Fran's boss in The Nanny?
More importantly, why are Yankee players exhausted after a season of Nine-Man-Stand-Around?
Torre, you're the manager. Whip these guys into shape. Maybe if (Gary) Sheffield and (Hideki) Matsui did some suicide drills in April, they wouldn't get so exhausted standing around in the outfield.
While you're at it, teach Robinson Cano how to bunt. Get a little old school on the rook. Send Kelly Stinnett out there with a bucket of baseballs and they don't leave until Cano gets down 100 bunts in a row. Every time he misses a bunt, the next pitch goes right at his head.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Vacillation Fascination.
Mariano Rivera is such a vacillator.
So is Andy Pettitte.
So is Robinson Cano.
So is John Smoltz.
So is Tim Hudson.
I only hear the word "uncorked" to describe a wild pitch and I only hear the word "tenacious" to describe a basketball defense. It's nice to see that Alex Rodriguez and the WBC have brought the word "vacillation" to the American consciousness.
Until it was used to describe ARod's reaction to the WBC, I don't remember hearing that word since I was studying for the SATs back in high school.
Ready for a solid 750 sentence? Ai'ght.
"Juxtaposed against ARod's vacillation, which provides plenty of fodder for those who believe the WBC is nothing more than an ersatz Olympics, Bud Selig's taciturn response surely contradicts his own quixotic hopes for the seminal tournament."
In any case, I sure wish these selfish millionaires would stop bombarding the world with their torturous vacillating. (Or, as Belt Parkway Tech valedictorian Bob Cook would say, "tortuous vascillating.")
Actually, I hope every Yankee who is still on board to play in the WBC vacillates one more time.
So is Andy Pettitte.
So is Robinson Cano.
So is John Smoltz.
So is Tim Hudson.
I only hear the word "uncorked" to describe a wild pitch and I only hear the word "tenacious" to describe a basketball defense. It's nice to see that Alex Rodriguez and the WBC have brought the word "vacillation" to the American consciousness.
Until it was used to describe ARod's reaction to the WBC, I don't remember hearing that word since I was studying for the SATs back in high school.
Ready for a solid 750 sentence? Ai'ght.
"Juxtaposed against ARod's vacillation, which provides plenty of fodder for those who believe the WBC is nothing more than an ersatz Olympics, Bud Selig's taciturn response surely contradicts his own quixotic hopes for the seminal tournament."
In any case, I sure wish these selfish millionaires would stop bombarding the world with their torturous vacillating. (Or, as Belt Parkway Tech valedictorian Bob Cook would say, "tortuous vascillating.")
Actually, I hope every Yankee who is still on board to play in the WBC vacillates one more time.
Roethlisberger wins Lupica's begrudging admiration and Super Bowl, too.
He waited until the end of the article to present his verdict, but the Reoethlisberger family and the entire city of Pittsburgh can rest easily now.
Mike Lupica likes Ben Reoethlisberger:
"I like Roethlisberger, by the way. He got on some run in the playoffs. He is the youngest quarterback to win a Super Bowl."
"He likes me! He really likes me! I'm going to Disneyworld!
You know, you start off in training camp doing two-a-days and through all the sweat and blood and tears, you keep your eyes on the prize. You keep hoping that Mike Lupica will praise you in his column.
It means more to me than 100 Lombardi trophies! Nobody can ever take this away from me!"
But with friends like Mike Lupica, you really don't need enemies:
"The officials didn't have as bad a game as Ben Roethlisberger, because no winning quarterback ever had as bad a game as Roethlisberger did, just when everybody had him on a fast track to Canton." Key word being "winning." Super Bowl titles actually help players get into Canton. I'm just saying ...
"Roethlisberger was 9-for-21, 123 yards, no touchdown passes, two picks. Statistically, he was about as good as Eli Manning was against the Panthers." You compared Ben Roethlisberger to Eli Manning? But I thought you liked Ben Roethlisberger?
"If he doesn't complete one third-and-forever pass to Hines Ward, a 37-yard prayer to the Seahawks' 3-yard line, he would have had 86 passing yards in the Super Bowl and an even lower quarterback rating than the 22 he had." But he did complete the pass, and it was quite an amazing play. The kind of play Eli Manning would have never, ever made. The kind of play where Eli Manning gets sacked.
"If the Seahawks had ever come back, he would have been remembered for one of the worst throws since Garo Yepremian, that volleyball that Kelly Herndon picked off when the Steelers had a chance to go ahead 21-3." But the Seahawks didn't come back.
Besides, I still remember the bad throw. Ben Roethlisberger made a very bad throw that was intercepted and almost cost his team the game. I can remember that play even though the Seahawks did not come back to win the game. It's not too hard since I have a multi-faceted human brain.
Also, if he hadn't thrown that interception at the goal line, then he'd have thrown for one TD and only one interception and his QB rating would have been better. Since Lupica is taking away Roethlisberger's best play of the game, I'm taking away his worst play of the game.
"But maybe we can hold off now on making him the next Montana or Aikman or Brady. The Steelers didn't win because of him Sunday, they won despite him. Hasselbeck, even with the late pick he threw, outplayed Roethlisberger all day." Fair enough. Roethlisberger is no Montana or Aikman or Brady. (Come on, did any person in the entire Universe really compare Roethlisberger to Montana? No, of course not.)
Perhaps Hasselbeck outplayed Roethlisberger slightly in the Super Bowl, though Pittsburgh also spent a good chunk of the game trying to run out the clock. That's cool.
But please don't you ever compare a Super Bowl winning QB to Eli Manning ever again. It's an insult to every QB who ever won the Super Bowl.
Mike Lupica likes Ben Reoethlisberger:
"I like Roethlisberger, by the way. He got on some run in the playoffs. He is the youngest quarterback to win a Super Bowl."
"He likes me! He really likes me! I'm going to Disneyworld!
You know, you start off in training camp doing two-a-days and through all the sweat and blood and tears, you keep your eyes on the prize. You keep hoping that Mike Lupica will praise you in his column.
It means more to me than 100 Lombardi trophies! Nobody can ever take this away from me!"
But with friends like Mike Lupica, you really don't need enemies:
"The officials didn't have as bad a game as Ben Roethlisberger, because no winning quarterback ever had as bad a game as Roethlisberger did, just when everybody had him on a fast track to Canton." Key word being "winning." Super Bowl titles actually help players get into Canton. I'm just saying ...
"Roethlisberger was 9-for-21, 123 yards, no touchdown passes, two picks. Statistically, he was about as good as Eli Manning was against the Panthers." You compared Ben Roethlisberger to Eli Manning? But I thought you liked Ben Roethlisberger?
"If he doesn't complete one third-and-forever pass to Hines Ward, a 37-yard prayer to the Seahawks' 3-yard line, he would have had 86 passing yards in the Super Bowl and an even lower quarterback rating than the 22 he had." But he did complete the pass, and it was quite an amazing play. The kind of play Eli Manning would have never, ever made. The kind of play where Eli Manning gets sacked.
"If the Seahawks had ever come back, he would have been remembered for one of the worst throws since Garo Yepremian, that volleyball that Kelly Herndon picked off when the Steelers had a chance to go ahead 21-3." But the Seahawks didn't come back.
Besides, I still remember the bad throw. Ben Roethlisberger made a very bad throw that was intercepted and almost cost his team the game. I can remember that play even though the Seahawks did not come back to win the game. It's not too hard since I have a multi-faceted human brain.
Also, if he hadn't thrown that interception at the goal line, then he'd have thrown for one TD and only one interception and his QB rating would have been better. Since Lupica is taking away Roethlisberger's best play of the game, I'm taking away his worst play of the game.
"But maybe we can hold off now on making him the next Montana or Aikman or Brady. The Steelers didn't win because of him Sunday, they won despite him. Hasselbeck, even with the late pick he threw, outplayed Roethlisberger all day." Fair enough. Roethlisberger is no Montana or Aikman or Brady. (Come on, did any person in the entire Universe really compare Roethlisberger to Montana? No, of course not.)
Perhaps Hasselbeck outplayed Roethlisberger slightly in the Super Bowl, though Pittsburgh also spent a good chunk of the game trying to run out the clock. That's cool.
But please don't you ever compare a Super Bowl winning QB to Eli Manning ever again. It's an insult to every QB who ever won the Super Bowl.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Not About Johnny Damon's Hair.
Mike Lupica has a point. Who really cares about Johnny Damon's hair, anyway?:
"I want to be as clear about this as I can:
I don't think of Johnny Damon going through life on some kind of red carpet.
I don't care about his hair.
I don't care where he gets it done or if he's got highlights.
His hair wasn't all that interesting when it was caveman hair at Fenway Park, it doesn't matter now that it's makeover hair at Yankee Stadium.
Even though people who used to get half-hysterical about caveman hair now think Damon is cuter than a junebug.
Bottom line? The next time he gets a trim, leave me out of it."
Leave me out of it, too, Mike.
Professional athletes are defined by what they do on the field. That is why we know them, it's why we pay attention to them, it's our entire interface with these people. Nothing else matters to me. Johnny Damon exists in my universe for three hours a day, during baseball season only.
But since we're so unconcerned with Johnny Damon's hair, why are we talking about it? You've got an entire column and you apparently can talk about anything you want. I'll gladly discuss Damon's on-base% or range factor, since that's on-field stuff that us True Fans care about.
But now that I stop and think about it, it seems to me that Lupica hasn't discussed on-field performance, well, ever.
If a discussion of Johnny Damon's haircut is beneath Lupica, I'm forced to wonder why the following observations creep into the very same article:
"I don't know anything about 107.1 FM, The Peak, except for this:
It is a very cool place on the dial for good rock and roll."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to talk about rock radio, leve me out of it.
"That sniveling phony James Frey now says he had to make stuff up in 'A Million Little Pieces' because it made for a better story.
Bill Buckner probably wants to do it that way when he writes his memoir."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be a literary critic, leave me out of it.
"Phil Jackson got his money with the Lakers, and he's got a great and good friend there with the owner's daughter, and now he just sits there and runs every single offensive set for Kobe."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to mention Phil Jackson's dating habits, leave me out of it.
"I would watch a festival of 'Saw' movies before watching a whole afternoon of Super Bowl pregame shows."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be Roger Ebert, leave me out of it.
"What anchor guy ever had a better rookie year than Brian Williams has with the NBC Nightly News?"
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to discuss anchor guys, leave me out of it.
"Sometimes 'Boston Legal' is like the old line about the NBA:
You don't have to start watching until the last two minutes, when James Spader and William Shatner sit there with cigars."
Let me be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be Matt Roush, leave me out of it.
Okay, I'll stop. This is tedious.
Still waiting for the sports analysis from the sportswriter. I could get this kind of crud from Larry King or Whitney Matheson.
Lupica can write about anything he wants. The Daily News has given him a column and, hey, even I'm reading it, if only for masochistic thrills.
But it's almost impossible to find a sportswriter who is more unconcerned with sports. It's all sports-as-pop-culture, sports-as-metaphor, sports-as-politics, athletes-as-role-models with a drizzle of literary allusion here and a wacky play on words there.
What happens on the field? Not nearly as important as what happens off the field. Not nearly as important as a press conference or a lawsuit or a Senate hearing or a charity event or an awards show.
What did Tiki say after the game? That's key.
Rather than analyze Eli's three interceptions, why don't you follow Tiki to the parking lot and ask him about what he said after the game? It's very insightful to the true sports fan. While you're at it, let me know what car Tiki drives and what rock concerts Theo Epstein is going to attend this weekend. Alright? All important information for the serious-minded fan.
Lupica shouldn't complain about Johnny Damon Haircut articles. He gave that monster life in the first place. He ought not get all high and mighty and disavow its existence.
"I want to be as clear about this as I can:
I don't think of Johnny Damon going through life on some kind of red carpet.
I don't care about his hair.
I don't care where he gets it done or if he's got highlights.
His hair wasn't all that interesting when it was caveman hair at Fenway Park, it doesn't matter now that it's makeover hair at Yankee Stadium.
Even though people who used to get half-hysterical about caveman hair now think Damon is cuter than a junebug.
Bottom line? The next time he gets a trim, leave me out of it."
Leave me out of it, too, Mike.
Professional athletes are defined by what they do on the field. That is why we know them, it's why we pay attention to them, it's our entire interface with these people. Nothing else matters to me. Johnny Damon exists in my universe for three hours a day, during baseball season only.
But since we're so unconcerned with Johnny Damon's hair, why are we talking about it? You've got an entire column and you apparently can talk about anything you want. I'll gladly discuss Damon's on-base% or range factor, since that's on-field stuff that us True Fans care about.
But now that I stop and think about it, it seems to me that Lupica hasn't discussed on-field performance, well, ever.
If a discussion of Johnny Damon's haircut is beneath Lupica, I'm forced to wonder why the following observations creep into the very same article:
"I don't know anything about 107.1 FM, The Peak, except for this:
It is a very cool place on the dial for good rock and roll."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to talk about rock radio, leve me out of it.
"That sniveling phony James Frey now says he had to make stuff up in 'A Million Little Pieces' because it made for a better story.
Bill Buckner probably wants to do it that way when he writes his memoir."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be a literary critic, leave me out of it.
"Phil Jackson got his money with the Lakers, and he's got a great and good friend there with the owner's daughter, and now he just sits there and runs every single offensive set for Kobe."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to mention Phil Jackson's dating habits, leave me out of it.
"I would watch a festival of 'Saw' movies before watching a whole afternoon of Super Bowl pregame shows."
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be Roger Ebert, leave me out of it.
"What anchor guy ever had a better rookie year than Brian Williams has with the NBC Nightly News?"
I want to be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to discuss anchor guys, leave me out of it.
"Sometimes 'Boston Legal' is like the old line about the NBA:
You don't have to start watching until the last two minutes, when James Spader and William Shatner sit there with cigars."
Let me be as clear as I can, Mike: Next time you want to be Matt Roush, leave me out of it.
Okay, I'll stop. This is tedious.
Still waiting for the sports analysis from the sportswriter. I could get this kind of crud from Larry King or Whitney Matheson.
Lupica can write about anything he wants. The Daily News has given him a column and, hey, even I'm reading it, if only for masochistic thrills.
But it's almost impossible to find a sportswriter who is more unconcerned with sports. It's all sports-as-pop-culture, sports-as-metaphor, sports-as-politics, athletes-as-role-models with a drizzle of literary allusion here and a wacky play on words there.
What happens on the field? Not nearly as important as what happens off the field. Not nearly as important as a press conference or a lawsuit or a Senate hearing or a charity event or an awards show.
What did Tiki say after the game? That's key.
Rather than analyze Eli's three interceptions, why don't you follow Tiki to the parking lot and ask him about what he said after the game? It's very insightful to the true sports fan. While you're at it, let me know what car Tiki drives and what rock concerts Theo Epstein is going to attend this weekend. Alright? All important information for the serious-minded fan.
Lupica shouldn't complain about Johnny Damon Haircut articles. He gave that monster life in the first place. He ought not get all high and mighty and disavow its existence.
Monday, January 30, 2006
This is why all true baseball fans should defend Alex Rodriguez.
I don't know if this columnist is even primarily a sportswriter, but his contention is that the Dominican Republic is "lucky" not to have Alex Rodriguez on their team.
You know what? You've got problems with ARod's game? Okay.
Unimpressed with his situational hitting or you think he strikes out too often? Fine.
Nobody's perfect.
But if you claim you don't want him on your team because of a poor series vs. Anaehim last October, then you are simply a fool.
Besides, if Beltre and Ramirez are better choices, then convince me. How has Adrian Beltre performed in the postseason? How many rings does Aramis Ramirez possess?
It's really not too hard to find out.
Respectively, .267 in 15 at-bats and .250 (with 4 homeruns!) in 44 at-bats.
Should Adrian Beltre even be allowed to choke on an international stage since he's proven himself to be such a poor postseason performer in 15 at-bats?
Well, gee, Felz. It's only 15 at-bats.
Exactly.
So don't sweat the guy with a .305 career postseason average -- who hit .409 with power in his first ALCS when the opponent was the Big Bad Yankees -- who hit .429 with power in his first postseason appearance as a member of the Big Bad Yankees -- because he had a bad 15 at-bats against Anaheim.
The WBC games mean nothing. If the games don't mean anything, there is no pressure. If there is no pressure, then ARod can't choke. Nobody can choke in exhibition games.
But, as we all know with a quick perusal of his playoff stats, ARod is no choker, anyway.
Wait, what was I saying? My point is, even if the premise was correct, then the supporting facts would be wrong.
There is little doubt that the ARod/WBC story has already been written, before the games are played.
If ARod hits .625 with 10 homeruns, then this performance won't prove anything because the WBC is just glorified exhibition games against inferior competition. If ARod hits .200 with 0 homeruns, then it's more proof that he can't handle pressure.
You know what? You've got problems with ARod's game? Okay.
Unimpressed with his situational hitting or you think he strikes out too often? Fine.
Nobody's perfect.
But if you claim you don't want him on your team because of a poor series vs. Anaehim last October, then you are simply a fool.
Besides, if Beltre and Ramirez are better choices, then convince me. How has Adrian Beltre performed in the postseason? How many rings does Aramis Ramirez possess?
It's really not too hard to find out.
Respectively, .267 in 15 at-bats and .250 (with 4 homeruns!) in 44 at-bats.
Should Adrian Beltre even be allowed to choke on an international stage since he's proven himself to be such a poor postseason performer in 15 at-bats?
Well, gee, Felz. It's only 15 at-bats.
Exactly.
So don't sweat the guy with a .305 career postseason average -- who hit .409 with power in his first ALCS when the opponent was the Big Bad Yankees -- who hit .429 with power in his first postseason appearance as a member of the Big Bad Yankees -- because he had a bad 15 at-bats against Anaheim.
The WBC games mean nothing. If the games don't mean anything, there is no pressure. If there is no pressure, then ARod can't choke. Nobody can choke in exhibition games.
But, as we all know with a quick perusal of his playoff stats, ARod is no choker, anyway.
Wait, what was I saying? My point is, even if the premise was correct, then the supporting facts would be wrong.
There is little doubt that the ARod/WBC story has already been written, before the games are played.
If ARod hits .625 with 10 homeruns, then this performance won't prove anything because the WBC is just glorified exhibition games against inferior competition. If ARod hits .200 with 0 homeruns, then it's more proof that he can't handle pressure.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Eli According To Felz.
Do you ever get the feeling that this blog is not really about baseball at all, but it's just an opportunity to rag on Mike Lupica?
Ever get that feeling?
How about that. That is very interesting.
Anyway, Lupica was right about Theo Epstein and that ruined my day, so I think I deserve some Satisfaction.
No, I don't follow football too closely. But I know just about everything Lupica says in this article is made up or flat-out incorrect:
"Ben Roethlisberger is the headliner for the Super Bowl, a star the game desperately needed. Roethlisberger now has played two AFC Championship Games his first two years in the pros, won one. And that's it, that's all, he's not just a better quarterback than Eli Manning for the time being, he is a better quarterback for all times, whether his team wins Super Bowl XL or not. Or we are told, coast to coast."
Ben Roethlisberger probably will be a better quarterback than Eli Manning for all time. But I think most observers are talking about the present and not the future. As for the present, Roethlisberger obviously wins, hands down.
"I must have missed this general assessment of things before the playoffs began. Or when the Steelers were in danger of not making the playoffs at all."
In all seriousness, I think Lupica missed this general assessment of things before the playoffs. Sarcasm isn't effective when you don't know what you're talking about.
The general assessment of Roethlisberger before the playoffs was that he was a much better quarterback than Manning and that Roethlisberger's playoff experience would come in handy. It's true that the general assessment typically put New England or Indianapolis into the Super Bowl -- how many teams can win three consecutive playoff games on the road? -- but only Lupica used the words "Giants" and "Super Bowl" in the same sentence.
When the general assessment turns out to be absolutely correct, Lupica can't claim that the general assessment never existed in the first place.
Just admit it, man. You were wrong. Acknowledge and move on.
Prepare yourself, dear reader. What you are about to read may be the most jaw-droppingly insane football analysis you will ever read in your life.
Ben Roethlisberger leads the Steelers to three straight road playoff victories. He beats Denver in Denver with a QB rating of, like, 150.
Before the half, Roethlisberger evaded a heavy blitz, ran to his left, and somehow lofted a pinpoint pass to Hines Ward in the back of the endzone. Amazing. Eli Manning could not dream about making that play.
For good measure, Roethlsberger also ran for a touchdown.
Mike Lupica, sports columnist, a man who basically ignores the Yankees regular season and only judges their success in the postseason, compares Roethlisberger's accomplishment to a backyard football game:
"But you knew the whole world would start piling on Eli the minute Roethlisberger, facing no rush, with wide open receivers all day, a dream setup for a quarterback whether he is playing in Denver or in a touch football game in the backyard, had lit up the Broncos."
How many people watched the AFC Championship Game? Tens of millions, I'm quite sure. Out of all these people, only Mike Lupica thought Roethlisberger was facing no rush and throwing to wide open receivers all day. Only Mike Lupica was unimpressed.
"Maybe Roethlisberger is going to turn out to be another Tom Brady, or Troy Aikman, or Joe Montana. And maybe he isn't."
Hard to argue with that logic. It has to be one of the two.
But what do you think is going to happen in the future, Mike Lupica? It's difficult to look into the future, but that's the gist of this article:
"Do I know if Roethlisberger is going to play in another Super Bowl after this one? I sure don't."
Neither do I, you rapscallion.
I do know that he's already in the Super Bowl and he's already way more accomplished than Eli Manning.
Yes, Mike Lupica. The Giants would be better with Ben Roethlisberger instead of Eli Manning. I don't know how anyone could seriously make the argument to the contrary. We don't need to talk about what might happen or what might have happened. We only need to talk about what has happened.
"Ken Griffey Jr. was going to be the one to hit 800 home runs once." No, he wasn't.
"Doc Gooden was going to win 300 games after he was 24-4 his second season in the big leagues." No, not really.
"And Kobe was going to win more titles than Michael." With or without Shaq?
I mean, get real, would you?
Griffey probably would have hit 800 homeruns, except he got hurt. Gooden may have won 300 games, except he got injured and got into drugs. Kobe still might win more titles than Michael.
But nobody in their right mind would predict a player to hit 800 homeruns, win 300 games, or win seven NBA titles. Most people understand these accomplishments are difficult indeed and the potential pitfalls are infinite.
But does everybody who praises Roethlisberger and predicts a bright future for him have to include the disclaimer about injuries?
"You know he is going to stand by the kid. Accorsi made as large an investment in Eli Manning as any general manager has ever made in a rookie quarterback, Accorsi's own personal legacy with the Giants is riding on him. But he is right to stand up for him, and not to run with the crowd. Once the same crowd wanted to run Phil Simms out of this town."
Well, duh. Here we go again. Lupica building up his side by creating a preposterous argument for the opposition.
Nobody is saying the Giants should give up on Eli Manning. Most people think Manning has a bright future (but most people also thought Ken Griffey Jr. was going to hit 800 homeruns! Which is relevant in no way whatsoever!).
But the present also counts for something. Ben Roethlisberger has a bright present and a bright future. He's a better NFL quarterback than Eli Manning.
Lupica's endless defense of Eli Manning borders on the pathological. Even Archie doesn't think Eli is that good.
Ever get that feeling?
How about that. That is very interesting.
Anyway, Lupica was right about Theo Epstein and that ruined my day, so I think I deserve some Satisfaction.
No, I don't follow football too closely. But I know just about everything Lupica says in this article is made up or flat-out incorrect:
"Ben Roethlisberger is the headliner for the Super Bowl, a star the game desperately needed. Roethlisberger now has played two AFC Championship Games his first two years in the pros, won one. And that's it, that's all, he's not just a better quarterback than Eli Manning for the time being, he is a better quarterback for all times, whether his team wins Super Bowl XL or not. Or we are told, coast to coast."
Ben Roethlisberger probably will be a better quarterback than Eli Manning for all time. But I think most observers are talking about the present and not the future. As for the present, Roethlisberger obviously wins, hands down.
"I must have missed this general assessment of things before the playoffs began. Or when the Steelers were in danger of not making the playoffs at all."
In all seriousness, I think Lupica missed this general assessment of things before the playoffs. Sarcasm isn't effective when you don't know what you're talking about.
The general assessment of Roethlisberger before the playoffs was that he was a much better quarterback than Manning and that Roethlisberger's playoff experience would come in handy. It's true that the general assessment typically put New England or Indianapolis into the Super Bowl -- how many teams can win three consecutive playoff games on the road? -- but only Lupica used the words "Giants" and "Super Bowl" in the same sentence.
When the general assessment turns out to be absolutely correct, Lupica can't claim that the general assessment never existed in the first place.
Just admit it, man. You were wrong. Acknowledge and move on.
Prepare yourself, dear reader. What you are about to read may be the most jaw-droppingly insane football analysis you will ever read in your life.
Ben Roethlisberger leads the Steelers to three straight road playoff victories. He beats Denver in Denver with a QB rating of, like, 150.
Before the half, Roethlisberger evaded a heavy blitz, ran to his left, and somehow lofted a pinpoint pass to Hines Ward in the back of the endzone. Amazing. Eli Manning could not dream about making that play.
For good measure, Roethlsberger also ran for a touchdown.
Mike Lupica, sports columnist, a man who basically ignores the Yankees regular season and only judges their success in the postseason, compares Roethlisberger's accomplishment to a backyard football game:
"But you knew the whole world would start piling on Eli the minute Roethlisberger, facing no rush, with wide open receivers all day, a dream setup for a quarterback whether he is playing in Denver or in a touch football game in the backyard, had lit up the Broncos."
How many people watched the AFC Championship Game? Tens of millions, I'm quite sure. Out of all these people, only Mike Lupica thought Roethlisberger was facing no rush and throwing to wide open receivers all day. Only Mike Lupica was unimpressed.
"Maybe Roethlisberger is going to turn out to be another Tom Brady, or Troy Aikman, or Joe Montana. And maybe he isn't."
Hard to argue with that logic. It has to be one of the two.
But what do you think is going to happen in the future, Mike Lupica? It's difficult to look into the future, but that's the gist of this article:
"Do I know if Roethlisberger is going to play in another Super Bowl after this one? I sure don't."
Neither do I, you rapscallion.
I do know that he's already in the Super Bowl and he's already way more accomplished than Eli Manning.
Yes, Mike Lupica. The Giants would be better with Ben Roethlisberger instead of Eli Manning. I don't know how anyone could seriously make the argument to the contrary. We don't need to talk about what might happen or what might have happened. We only need to talk about what has happened.
"Ken Griffey Jr. was going to be the one to hit 800 home runs once." No, he wasn't.
"Doc Gooden was going to win 300 games after he was 24-4 his second season in the big leagues." No, not really.
"And Kobe was going to win more titles than Michael." With or without Shaq?
I mean, get real, would you?
Griffey probably would have hit 800 homeruns, except he got hurt. Gooden may have won 300 games, except he got injured and got into drugs. Kobe still might win more titles than Michael.
But nobody in their right mind would predict a player to hit 800 homeruns, win 300 games, or win seven NBA titles. Most people understand these accomplishments are difficult indeed and the potential pitfalls are infinite.
But does everybody who praises Roethlisberger and predicts a bright future for him have to include the disclaimer about injuries?
"You know he is going to stand by the kid. Accorsi made as large an investment in Eli Manning as any general manager has ever made in a rookie quarterback, Accorsi's own personal legacy with the Giants is riding on him. But he is right to stand up for him, and not to run with the crowd. Once the same crowd wanted to run Phil Simms out of this town."
Well, duh. Here we go again. Lupica building up his side by creating a preposterous argument for the opposition.
Nobody is saying the Giants should give up on Eli Manning. Most people think Manning has a bright future (but most people also thought Ken Griffey Jr. was going to hit 800 homeruns! Which is relevant in no way whatsoever!).
But the present also counts for something. Ben Roethlisberger has a bright present and a bright future. He's a better NFL quarterback than Eli Manning.
Lupica's endless defense of Eli Manning borders on the pathological. Even Archie doesn't think Eli is that good.
Monday, January 23, 2006
Coming soon to overstock.com!
Oh, who am I kidding? I'm just being a sourpuss.
The anticipation is rising!
You can hear it from Tokyo to Toronto, from Havana to Hong Kong, from Sydney to St. Louis, from Milan to Maracaibo!
It's the drumbeat of national pride and prestige, and it is growing louder and louder as the first-ever World Baseball Classic grows nearer!
It's the singular heartbeat of Yankee fans worldwide praying that Alex Rodriguez and Derek Jeter don't get injured in useless exhibition games!
The anticipation is rising!
You can hear it from Tokyo to Toronto, from Havana to Hong Kong, from Sydney to St. Louis, from Milan to Maracaibo!
It's the drumbeat of national pride and prestige, and it is growing louder and louder as the first-ever World Baseball Classic grows nearer!
It's the singular heartbeat of Yankee fans worldwide praying that Alex Rodriguez and Derek Jeter don't get injured in useless exhibition games!
They allow .097 hitters into the Hall of Fame.
I'm not completely sure Sandy Koufax belongs in the Hall of Fame. He's certainly the primary example of a player who dominated for a short period of time, which is usually not the preferred entry requirement.
But I'm pretty sure this is the most perplexing anti-Koufax logic imaginable, graciously provided by the ethereal "Michael" from New York:
"I read your answer concerning Koufax and Mattingly, and you are mistaken. Koufax could not hit, he could not run, and his defense was only average. Koufax was a one-dimensional player. All he could do was pitch and nothing else."
But I'm pretty sure this is the most perplexing anti-Koufax logic imaginable, graciously provided by the ethereal "Michael" from New York:
"I read your answer concerning Koufax and Mattingly, and you are mistaken. Koufax could not hit, he could not run, and his defense was only average. Koufax was a one-dimensional player. All he could do was pitch and nothing else."
Stats are for geeks.
Back to Ian O'Connor's claim that Alex Rodriguez is the, ahem, "anti-Jeter" because ARod is paralyzed by fear and conscious of his image and a choker who can't make Little League plays in October:
"His play in October, especially when measured against the big-game guts of Derek Jeter, never did anything to help his cause. The slap of Bronson Arroyo's glove. The drop of Orlando Cabrera's bouncer. If only to disarm the heavily-armed critics surrounding his locker after his embarrassing Division Series performance against the Angels last October, Rodriguez likened himself to 'a dog'"
It seems to me if you're discussing Alex Rodriguez's postseason performance, then the first place you'd start is with Alex Rodriguez's postseason performance.
Let's go ahead and measure the postseason stats of Derek Jeter against those of Alex Rodriguez:
ARod: .305 ba, .393 ob%, .534 slugging%.
Jeter: .307 ba, .379 ob%, .463 slugging%.
I think most intelligent observers would exchange two points in batting average for 14 extra ob% points and 71 extra slugging% points. But without even discussing who's better, it's obvious at first glance that both have performed excellently in the postseason.
The difference in terms of production, of course, is that Jeter has had far more postseason appearances.
ARod has 118 at-bats with 6 hrs, 9 doubles, 0 triples, 16 rbis, and 19 runs.
Jeter has 462 at-bats with 16 hrs, 18 doubles, 3 triples, 47 rbis, and 81 runs.
The math is actually quite convenient for us. Multiply ARod's stats by 4 and you'll see he has been almost exactly as productive as Jeter per plate appearance. (If you need help, that translates to 24 hrs, 36 doubles, 0 triples, 64 rbis, and 76 runs.)
There ya go. Was that so hard? Go ahead and compare. ARod's postseason stats measure up almost exactly to Jeter's.
Now, one might argue that ARod's postseason numbers don't meet high expectations (after all, isn't ARod better than Jeter in the regular season?), but they're really not too far off. The power numbers are not quite what one would expect in 100+ at-bats from a man who has 400 homeruns by his 30th birthday, but even the power numbers aren't too far off.
Point being, the stats speak for themselves and any simplistic analysis ought to belie the idea that ARod has a history of choking in October.
I don't know if ARod has more "guts" than Jeter and I'm also not quite sure how to measure that. I'll leave that for image-conscious writers like Ian O'Connor. O'Connor seems more interested in analyzing press conferences than watching baseball games.
"His play in October, especially when measured against the big-game guts of Derek Jeter, never did anything to help his cause. The slap of Bronson Arroyo's glove. The drop of Orlando Cabrera's bouncer. If only to disarm the heavily-armed critics surrounding his locker after his embarrassing Division Series performance against the Angels last October, Rodriguez likened himself to 'a dog'"
It seems to me if you're discussing Alex Rodriguez's postseason performance, then the first place you'd start is with Alex Rodriguez's postseason performance.
Let's go ahead and measure the postseason stats of Derek Jeter against those of Alex Rodriguez:
ARod: .305 ba, .393 ob%, .534 slugging%.
Jeter: .307 ba, .379 ob%, .463 slugging%.
I think most intelligent observers would exchange two points in batting average for 14 extra ob% points and 71 extra slugging% points. But without even discussing who's better, it's obvious at first glance that both have performed excellently in the postseason.
The difference in terms of production, of course, is that Jeter has had far more postseason appearances.
ARod has 118 at-bats with 6 hrs, 9 doubles, 0 triples, 16 rbis, and 19 runs.
Jeter has 462 at-bats with 16 hrs, 18 doubles, 3 triples, 47 rbis, and 81 runs.
The math is actually quite convenient for us. Multiply ARod's stats by 4 and you'll see he has been almost exactly as productive as Jeter per plate appearance. (If you need help, that translates to 24 hrs, 36 doubles, 0 triples, 64 rbis, and 76 runs.)
There ya go. Was that so hard? Go ahead and compare. ARod's postseason stats measure up almost exactly to Jeter's.
Now, one might argue that ARod's postseason numbers don't meet high expectations (after all, isn't ARod better than Jeter in the regular season?), but they're really not too far off. The power numbers are not quite what one would expect in 100+ at-bats from a man who has 400 homeruns by his 30th birthday, but even the power numbers aren't too far off.
Point being, the stats speak for themselves and any simplistic analysis ought to belie the idea that ARod has a history of choking in October.
I don't know if ARod has more "guts" than Jeter and I'm also not quite sure how to measure that. I'll leave that for image-conscious writers like Ian O'Connor. O'Connor seems more interested in analyzing press conferences than watching baseball games.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
"Both teams played hard."
No, Ian O'Connor. Image isn't everything. Numbers are everything.
.321, 48, and 130 is everything.
But can ARod perform under pressure?:
"Alex Rodriguez might be the most talented ballplayer on the planet. But it's hard to belt a postseason homer, or even field a Little League bouncer in the Division Series, when you're more concerned with how people think you are performing than you are in performing."
Ian O'Connor does not understand how baseball works.
In the postseason, Alex Rodriguez has performed well. I know Ian O'Connor doesn't think so, but then Ian O'Connor is wrong.
In the postseason, ARod has hit .305 with 6 hrs and 16 hrs in 118 at-bats. The rbis are a little low, but he also has managed 19 runs, a .393 on-base% and a .534 slugging%. Those numbers are excellent and they're consistent with his HOF regular season numbers.
This is what Ian O'Connor doesn't understand:
(1) Given enought at-bats, every player in baseball history will hit a slump.
Every playoff superstar has choked in the playoffs if you choose to look at 10 or 15 at-bats. Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Derek Jeter, Reggie Jackson, Manny Ramirez, Scott Brosius, anybody.
That is simply how baseball works.
If O'Connor wants to focus on ARod's last 30 playoff at-bats as proof that he can't handle pressure, then I can focus on his previous 30, which prove that he can. Those are hard numbers that ARod has generated, not the soft ARod image that O'Connor chooses to fabricate.
(2) When did ARod start becoming conscious of his image? When did this self-consciousness start to negatively affect his play on the field?
Because I don't think the Twins thought he was a Little League player when he singlehandedly bombed them in the 2004 ALDS.
But this is what Ian O'Connor is asking you to believe: ARod suddenly became conscious of his image and suddenly became unable to handle pressure starting in Game 4 of the ALCS vs. Boston. (Actually, it would have to be Game 5, because he hit a monster homerun in Game 4.)
It would be nice if ARod could let his numbers do the talking. But lazy columnists are going to ignore the numbers entirely and push the Choker angle, all the while claiming that ARod is oh-so image-conscious.
Rasheed Wallace had it right. From now on, every question should get the same response: "Both teams played hard."
.321, 48, and 130 is everything.
But can ARod perform under pressure?:
"Alex Rodriguez might be the most talented ballplayer on the planet. But it's hard to belt a postseason homer, or even field a Little League bouncer in the Division Series, when you're more concerned with how people think you are performing than you are in performing."
Ian O'Connor does not understand how baseball works.
In the postseason, Alex Rodriguez has performed well. I know Ian O'Connor doesn't think so, but then Ian O'Connor is wrong.
In the postseason, ARod has hit .305 with 6 hrs and 16 hrs in 118 at-bats. The rbis are a little low, but he also has managed 19 runs, a .393 on-base% and a .534 slugging%. Those numbers are excellent and they're consistent with his HOF regular season numbers.
This is what Ian O'Connor doesn't understand:
(1) Given enought at-bats, every player in baseball history will hit a slump.
Every playoff superstar has choked in the playoffs if you choose to look at 10 or 15 at-bats. Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra, Derek Jeter, Reggie Jackson, Manny Ramirez, Scott Brosius, anybody.
That is simply how baseball works.
If O'Connor wants to focus on ARod's last 30 playoff at-bats as proof that he can't handle pressure, then I can focus on his previous 30, which prove that he can. Those are hard numbers that ARod has generated, not the soft ARod image that O'Connor chooses to fabricate.
(2) When did ARod start becoming conscious of his image? When did this self-consciousness start to negatively affect his play on the field?
Because I don't think the Twins thought he was a Little League player when he singlehandedly bombed them in the 2004 ALDS.
But this is what Ian O'Connor is asking you to believe: ARod suddenly became conscious of his image and suddenly became unable to handle pressure starting in Game 4 of the ALCS vs. Boston. (Actually, it would have to be Game 5, because he hit a monster homerun in Game 4.)
It would be nice if ARod could let his numbers do the talking. But lazy columnists are going to ignore the numbers entirely and push the Choker angle, all the while claiming that ARod is oh-so image-conscious.
Rasheed Wallace had it right. From now on, every question should get the same response: "Both teams played hard."
Thursday, January 19, 2006
They wished they knew how to quit Alex Rodriguez.
This article is supposedly a debate regarding the pros and cons of the World Baseball Classic.
The title says "The Great Baseball Classic Debate."
It link at ESPN.com says, "Point/Counterpoint: Is the World Baseball Classic an event worth holding?"
Well, I just read the article and I'm still not sure what Jim Caple and Buster Olney think about the World Baseball Classic.
I learned that Alex Rodriguez is indecisive, Alex Rodriguez is insincere, Alex Rodriguez makes a lot of money, and Alex Rodriguez is conscious of his image.
Nine entries on the World Baseball Classic. One guy supposedly debating the pros, the other guy supposedly debating the cons. of these nine entires, six mention Alex Rodriguez. No other player is mentioned by name.
You really don't care what team ARod plays for? Gee, you sure talk about it a lot, though. You also talk about his salary a lot.
His uniform, the country in which he lives, the country in which he was born. What he says, what he looks like, his haircut. His favorite movie, his favorite color, his zodiac sign.
Seriously, are you guys ... in love with Alex Rodriguez? Not that there's anything wrong with that.
You know, maybe there's a reason ARod watches what he says. Because groupies like Caple and Olney drool over every word like a fat guy eating a Big Mac.
The title says "The Great Baseball Classic Debate."
It link at ESPN.com says, "Point/Counterpoint: Is the World Baseball Classic an event worth holding?"
Well, I just read the article and I'm still not sure what Jim Caple and Buster Olney think about the World Baseball Classic.
I learned that Alex Rodriguez is indecisive, Alex Rodriguez is insincere, Alex Rodriguez makes a lot of money, and Alex Rodriguez is conscious of his image.
Nine entries on the World Baseball Classic. One guy supposedly debating the pros, the other guy supposedly debating the cons. of these nine entires, six mention Alex Rodriguez. No other player is mentioned by name.
You really don't care what team ARod plays for? Gee, you sure talk about it a lot, though. You also talk about his salary a lot.
His uniform, the country in which he lives, the country in which he was born. What he says, what he looks like, his haircut. His favorite movie, his favorite color, his zodiac sign.
Seriously, are you guys ... in love with Alex Rodriguez? Not that there's anything wrong with that.
You know, maybe there's a reason ARod watches what he says. Because groupies like Caple and Olney drool over every word like a fat guy eating a Big Mac.
Friday, January 13, 2006
Facts and Opinions.
10) Who do you consider baseball's single-season home run leader?
-- Barry Bonds (73 in 2001)
-- Mark McGwire (70 in 1998)
-- Sammy Sosa (66 in 1998)
-- Roger Maris (61 in 1961)
-- Babe Ruth (60 in 1927 )
The question itself is completely invalid. Barry Bonds is baseball's single-season homerun leader. It's not an opinion, it's a fact. The U.S. has fifty states and 2 + 2 = 4. I'm sure I couldn't get 100% agreement if I adminstered a poll on ESPN.com, but that doesn't change the facts.
I understand what they're getting at, though. They're questioning the validity of the steroids-enhanced homerun hitters. They're really asking, "Which feat do you consider most impressive?" Which is an opinion.
So, pretending the ESPN readers were answering the amended question, their opinions are as follows:
50.4% Roger Maris (61 in 1961)
31.6% Barry Bonds (73 in 2001)
8.3% Mark McGwire (70 in 1998)
8.0% Babe Ruth (60 in 1927)
1.7% Sammy Sosa (66 in 1998)
Let's just say that choice is ironic, considering the fact that Maris was ripped to shreds at the time. 162-game season, short porch, Mantle providing protection, no intentional walks, etc. The mythical asterisk next to his name in the record books.
Which is why I really hate the question in the first place. Why stop with Maris's 1961 season?
I'm more "impressed" with Jimmie Foxx's 50 in 1938 when the fences were 700 feet from home plate and the ball was dead. I'm more "impressed" with George Foster's 52 in 1977 when nobody else had more than 41. I might even be more "impressed" with Brady Anderson's 50 in 1996 even though he was probably on steroids and played in a small ballpark.
Brady Anderson was a leadoff hitter, what do you think about that? A leadoff hitter hitting 50 homeruns. He should be the single-season homerun leader!
Or maybe not. I'd have to think about it. It seems like pretty silly criteria and maybe my opinion is kind of dumb.
But it's not up to me to decide who has the most homeruns in a single season of baseball. That is a fact which is decided by a cold, hard, unemotional, unopinionated ledger. A homerun is hit, a notch goes next to the name of the man who hit it.
-- Barry Bonds (73 in 2001)
-- Mark McGwire (70 in 1998)
-- Sammy Sosa (66 in 1998)
-- Roger Maris (61 in 1961)
-- Babe Ruth (60 in 1927 )
The question itself is completely invalid. Barry Bonds is baseball's single-season homerun leader. It's not an opinion, it's a fact. The U.S. has fifty states and 2 + 2 = 4. I'm sure I couldn't get 100% agreement if I adminstered a poll on ESPN.com, but that doesn't change the facts.
I understand what they're getting at, though. They're questioning the validity of the steroids-enhanced homerun hitters. They're really asking, "Which feat do you consider most impressive?" Which is an opinion.
So, pretending the ESPN readers were answering the amended question, their opinions are as follows:
50.4% Roger Maris (61 in 1961)
31.6% Barry Bonds (73 in 2001)
8.3% Mark McGwire (70 in 1998)
8.0% Babe Ruth (60 in 1927)
1.7% Sammy Sosa (66 in 1998)
Let's just say that choice is ironic, considering the fact that Maris was ripped to shreds at the time. 162-game season, short porch, Mantle providing protection, no intentional walks, etc. The mythical asterisk next to his name in the record books.
Which is why I really hate the question in the first place. Why stop with Maris's 1961 season?
I'm more "impressed" with Jimmie Foxx's 50 in 1938 when the fences were 700 feet from home plate and the ball was dead. I'm more "impressed" with George Foster's 52 in 1977 when nobody else had more than 41. I might even be more "impressed" with Brady Anderson's 50 in 1996 even though he was probably on steroids and played in a small ballpark.
Brady Anderson was a leadoff hitter, what do you think about that? A leadoff hitter hitting 50 homeruns. He should be the single-season homerun leader!
Or maybe not. I'd have to think about it. It seems like pretty silly criteria and maybe my opinion is kind of dumb.
But it's not up to me to decide who has the most homeruns in a single season of baseball. That is a fact which is decided by a cold, hard, unemotional, unopinionated ledger. A homerun is hit, a notch goes next to the name of the man who hit it.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Steven Goldman puts Baseball Hall of Fame in Perspective.
I understand why the HOF wouldn't want the fans to decide. Fans are biased to a fault, naturally. NY fans would put Don Mattingly in but wouldn't even consider Al Oliver. It's not really fair and this process would vastly overemphasize a player's popularity rather than his on-field performance.
The professional baseball writers are supposed to bring some extensive knowledge to the process. They're supposed to know more than you and I. They're supposed to thoroughly analyze the careers of the borderline players and validate the voting process in a way that the casual fan can not.
But with Albert Belle receiving a mere 7% of the vote, the current process reveals itself to be little more than a popularity contest, anyway.
Steven Goldman questions the validity of the entire process and he makes a heckuva lot of sense:
"The Baseball Writers Association of America, is, if possible, a more benighted American institution than Congress. Whereas the Constitution says we have to deal with the latter, the former is inflicted upon us only at the sufferance of Major League Baseball, who tolerates their self-appointed guardianship of the major awards and the Hall of Fame voting. While it is broadly acknowledged that they are almost wholly unfit for this task — just read any of the dozens of columns the voters have written in the past weeks torturously justifying their votes to see why — their monopoly is shrugged at, as if it is a necessary, inescapable evil along the lines of sitcoms and dentistry.
Not only is there nothing inevitable about the BBWAA, but they should be stripped of their franchise. They use it irresponsibly.
With respect to Fred Lieb, Peter Gammons and all the other writers who started as team beat writers and went on to do bigger, better things, the job of the modern beat writer is not one with rigorous intellectual requirements. ... You have to have just enough intelligence not to (a) ask the players for autographs, (b) eat from the players' postgame spread, and (c) not show up in your underwear — and yes, these things have happened. Most importantly, you have to be credulous, very credulous, or risk losing your access.
Note that nowhere among this list of qualities is an appreciation of baseball history or an ability to judge ballplayers in and out of the context of their times. You get to come to your uninformed opinions without any sort of education whatsoever, except for the five Ws.
...
Of course, Gossage will now get in during one of the next elections, because otherwise the writers are going to have to admit to the basest hypocrisy — any rationale that considers Sutter a Hall of Famer also applies to Gossage. He'll get a fair chance next year, assuming the Writers can bring themselves to let Gossage be part of the glorification of Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken, next year's surefire inductees (Mark McGwire is eligible, too, but things may not go well). The only pitcher of note being added to the ballot is Bret Saberhagen, but the two-time Cy Young winner probably won't draw much support.
Somehow 54 people who clearly were not around to see baseball in the 1970s and early 80s will have to be convinced of their own fallibility over the next 12 months. Pathetic. "
The professional baseball writers are supposed to bring some extensive knowledge to the process. They're supposed to know more than you and I. They're supposed to thoroughly analyze the careers of the borderline players and validate the voting process in a way that the casual fan can not.
But with Albert Belle receiving a mere 7% of the vote, the current process reveals itself to be little more than a popularity contest, anyway.
Steven Goldman questions the validity of the entire process and he makes a heckuva lot of sense:
"The Baseball Writers Association of America, is, if possible, a more benighted American institution than Congress. Whereas the Constitution says we have to deal with the latter, the former is inflicted upon us only at the sufferance of Major League Baseball, who tolerates their self-appointed guardianship of the major awards and the Hall of Fame voting. While it is broadly acknowledged that they are almost wholly unfit for this task — just read any of the dozens of columns the voters have written in the past weeks torturously justifying their votes to see why — their monopoly is shrugged at, as if it is a necessary, inescapable evil along the lines of sitcoms and dentistry.
Not only is there nothing inevitable about the BBWAA, but they should be stripped of their franchise. They use it irresponsibly.
With respect to Fred Lieb, Peter Gammons and all the other writers who started as team beat writers and went on to do bigger, better things, the job of the modern beat writer is not one with rigorous intellectual requirements. ... You have to have just enough intelligence not to (a) ask the players for autographs, (b) eat from the players' postgame spread, and (c) not show up in your underwear — and yes, these things have happened. Most importantly, you have to be credulous, very credulous, or risk losing your access.
Note that nowhere among this list of qualities is an appreciation of baseball history or an ability to judge ballplayers in and out of the context of their times. You get to come to your uninformed opinions without any sort of education whatsoever, except for the five Ws.
...
Of course, Gossage will now get in during one of the next elections, because otherwise the writers are going to have to admit to the basest hypocrisy — any rationale that considers Sutter a Hall of Famer also applies to Gossage. He'll get a fair chance next year, assuming the Writers can bring themselves to let Gossage be part of the glorification of Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken, next year's surefire inductees (Mark McGwire is eligible, too, but things may not go well). The only pitcher of note being added to the ballot is Bret Saberhagen, but the two-time Cy Young winner probably won't draw much support.
Somehow 54 people who clearly were not around to see baseball in the 1970s and early 80s will have to be convinced of their own fallibility over the next 12 months. Pathetic. "
Monday, January 09, 2006
Perusing Baseball Stats Online Is Very Grueling.
"So what they provided, for those of us who take every Hall of Fame ballot as seriously as our tax returns, was a rare opportunity -- to direct a fresh look in the direction of some of those tough-call candidates who have been making our heads hurt for years.
Because we don't get overwhelmed by new candidates in years like this, we have a chance to reconsider old ones. And in the case of this particular voter, that wound up leading me to cast a vote for a player I've resisted for eight agonizing years -- Blyleven."
Jayson Stark claims to take his Hall of Fame ballot seriously, yet he also claims that he was overwhelmed by new candidates for the past eight years.
Bery Blyleven couldn't get his vote because, I guess, he was so distracted by Ryne Sandberg or Nolan Ryan. He was overwhelmed.
In an attempt to understand the life of a HOF voter, I have provided the following links, just as an example of the grueling work they must endure:
Nolan Ryan: 324 wins, 292 losses, 5,714 strikeouts. He was a pitcher. Seven no-hitters, if that helps.
Ryne Sandberg: .285, 282 homeruns, 1,061 rbis. He was a second baseman. Ten all-star games and nine gold gloves if that helps.
That was strenuous, wasn't it? I had to surf the 'Net for a little while. It seems to me like most of the work has already been done.
Everywhere I look, Blyleven's HOF candidacy is supposedly strengthened because this year's ballot is relatively weak. This makes no sense even to the most casual observer.
The voters reveal themselves as nothing more than flip-floppers or guys just looking for shomeone to shove up onto the podium next July:
"I don't think that makes me a flip-flopper, or a guy just looking for someone to shove up onto the podium next July. It simply reinforced my conviction that my favorite part of being a Hall of Fame voter is that it teaches me so much about players I didn't cover or players I saw just a little in their primes."
That's a touching personal reflection, but the problem is, Bert Blyleven didn't throw a single pitch in the last eight seasons. He didn't strengthen his candidacy in any way. He may have raised awareness of his candidacy and he may have garnered some high-profile supporters, such as Bill James. But if Jayson Stark really thinks Blyleven's a Hall of Famer, then he should have voted for him eight years ago.
Honestly? Determining a player's HOF credentials is really not that difficult.
Because we don't get overwhelmed by new candidates in years like this, we have a chance to reconsider old ones. And in the case of this particular voter, that wound up leading me to cast a vote for a player I've resisted for eight agonizing years -- Blyleven."
Jayson Stark claims to take his Hall of Fame ballot seriously, yet he also claims that he was overwhelmed by new candidates for the past eight years.
Bery Blyleven couldn't get his vote because, I guess, he was so distracted by Ryne Sandberg or Nolan Ryan. He was overwhelmed.
In an attempt to understand the life of a HOF voter, I have provided the following links, just as an example of the grueling work they must endure:
Nolan Ryan: 324 wins, 292 losses, 5,714 strikeouts. He was a pitcher. Seven no-hitters, if that helps.
Ryne Sandberg: .285, 282 homeruns, 1,061 rbis. He was a second baseman. Ten all-star games and nine gold gloves if that helps.
That was strenuous, wasn't it? I had to surf the 'Net for a little while. It seems to me like most of the work has already been done.
Everywhere I look, Blyleven's HOF candidacy is supposedly strengthened because this year's ballot is relatively weak. This makes no sense even to the most casual observer.
The voters reveal themselves as nothing more than flip-floppers or guys just looking for shomeone to shove up onto the podium next July:
"I don't think that makes me a flip-flopper, or a guy just looking for someone to shove up onto the podium next July. It simply reinforced my conviction that my favorite part of being a Hall of Fame voter is that it teaches me so much about players I didn't cover or players I saw just a little in their primes."
That's a touching personal reflection, but the problem is, Bert Blyleven didn't throw a single pitch in the last eight seasons. He didn't strengthen his candidacy in any way. He may have raised awareness of his candidacy and he may have garnered some high-profile supporters, such as Bill James. But if Jayson Stark really thinks Blyleven's a Hall of Famer, then he should have voted for him eight years ago.
Honestly? Determining a player's HOF credentials is really not that difficult.
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