FJM is a closed forum, but we welcome reader feedback. We're especially interested in corrections of our work, and research (usually number-crunching) that we may not be able to do ourselves. Please check the comments section as well, where we often post readers' opinions, and, less frequently, announce that we were wrong about something.
You can e-mail dak,Ken Tremendous,Junior,Matthew Murbles, or Coach individually.
Barry Bonds is a bad man who did a lot of illegal drugs. He's also, by many accounts, a jerk. But even at the age of like 72, he was objectively pretty good at hitting baseballs. You have to admit that. Or, if you're Bruce Jenkins, I guess you don't.
If Beane wants to destroy team chemistry, the clubhouse mood and any semblance of sanity by signing Barry Bonds, hey, maybe he doesn't have that much to lose. Remember this, though: Over the past two seasons, Bonds hurt the Giants more from a baseball standpoint than any steroid-related issues. Without Bonds - even if they don't make a single deal - the Giants will improve at least five games in the standings, simply because they can call themselves a team.
How Barry Bonds "Hurt" the Giants from a Baseball Standpoint in 2006: .270/.454/.545 in 130 games. 26 HR.
How Barry Bonds "Hurt" the Giants from a Baseball Standpoint in 2007: .276/.480/.565 in 126 games. 28 HR.
Yes, watching him play LF was painful. And yes, there will probably be a palpable sense of relief among the Giants' players that he's gone. But it's not easy to find a hitter who can put up those numbers. Even if he can't run, he was on base almost half the time.
I would say (uncontroversially) that he hurt the team far more from a non-baseball standpoint, in that he was a terrible sideshow who distracted everyone around him with his steroidiness. (That's a word, I think.) And if the Giants are 5 games better in the standings next year, it will be because their excellent young pitchers are a year older and better, not because they lost a guy with a 156/170 OPS+ the last two years.
I think this is the funniest and most entertaining post I've ever made. The end.
The Great American Ballpark is a bandbox, a home-run haven, an almost impossible place to build a pitching staff.
True 'dat. According to ESPN's Park Factors Page, the GAP is the #1 easiest place to hit HR, and is #2 in runs. So far you have argued using reason and knowledge.
Look elsewhere: Philadelphia, Texas, Colorado or Boston, where the Curse of the Bambino lasted a million years.
And now you have ceased to do so.
Philly: #2 in HR, but only #10 in runs, and #18 in hits. Arlington: #10 in HR, #15 in runs, #13 in hits
Coors is 4th in hits, 2nd in runs, and 8th in HR even with the humidor. Fenway is 1st in runs and 1st in hits -- but 24th in HR. Fenway is a relatively hard park to hit HR in, and has been for a few years.
Oh, and one more thing: there is no such thing as curses. And hyperbole or no -- a million years?
Hitters can't wait to step to the plate in those places. They're crowding the on-deck circle, digging hard into the batter's box, rudely leaning into every pitch. And after three innings, the home team trails, 8-5.
Well, except for Arlington, yes, you are pretty much right. These parks do all favor hitters.
Houston (reached the 2005 World Series) and Minnesota are conspicuous exceptions, but you get the point: It's not a good thing when opponents mark the calendar for a really good time in your ballpark.
Houston is an exception? To what? Enron/Minute Maid Park strongly favors pitchers in every single statistical category -- H, R, HR, 2B, 3B, BB. It is a solid pitchers' park. In 2005 it skewed towards hitters for HR, but was a pitchers' park in every other category. How is this an exception?
Admit it. You just look at it and think it's small and don't do any research, don't you? Don't you, you saucy little minx?
The Metrodome, too -- except for walks, which is 1.001 (essentially dead average in the category) -- favors pitchers in every category. So if you really want to look for an exception to your imaginary rule, how about citing...
...
...
... the 2004 Boston Red Sox? Who won the World Series? And play in Fenway? Which? You? Cited? Earlier?
This may sound crazy,
Can't wait.
but I'm saying the Giants would have a better record right now if they hadn't re-signed Bonds. Not first-place better, but a better winning percentage, and I'll guarantee you some of the players in the clubhouse feel the same way. Why? Because it would be about a team, not a home-run record. About the hint of change, not the same one-act play. Bonds' at-bats remain magical, no doubt about that, and it might be decades before we see another hitter so compelling -- but the burden of his presence makes the rest of the players wonder if they even matter.
There might -- might, I say -- be something to this. But mostly because the guy costs a lot of money, and they might have been able to sign other, better players with that money. Bonds is going to be worth 9.6 wins to his team this year, so you'd have to get 10 wins of improvement over what you have now in order to have a better winning percentage than you have with him. That's a lot of wins. Granted, the Giants have some terrible players. Roberts-Winn-Durham is a pretty sad 123. But you can't just say that they'd be better on psychological grounds only, without offering possibilities for whom they might have signed with the extra $$$.
Then later, in the random notes section, we get...
Out-of-nowhere prediction: Jose Valverde, Arizona's flighty reliever, gives up a costly late-inning homer and turns into Atlee Hammaker, never quite the same ...
You think that's novel? Please. I've been predicting Valverde-becomes-Hammaker for months.
Here's a handy summer reminder for all the managers and pitching coaches so lamely obsessed with pitch counts ("I know he's pitching a two-hitter, but hold on just a minute here -- 103 pitches!"): In the 1968 season, the Cardinals' Bob Gibson was never removed from the mound. Made 34 starts, completed 28. The other six times, he was removed for a pinch-hitter (twice in the seventh inning, three times in the eighth and once in the 11th, notes Bill Arnold of Sports Features Group). Not once did he make that walk to the dugout, usually a humbling and discouraging experience.
I wholeheartedly encourage you to visit this page, and poke around the web and read the scientific/medical basis for pitch counts. If you don't want to, I will coarsely summarize: it is not the amount of rest between outings that matters most to a player's arm's health. It is the number of pitches per individual outing above a certain benchmark -- roughly 100. Granted, science and reason cannot hold a candle to good ol' fashioned horse sense, the like of which you are demonstrating here.
Try to imagine this as you recall Tony La Russa crafting relief for the seventh, eighth and ninth innings before the game even starts, or Felipe Alou making six changes in five minutes. It's a different game today (the pitching-dominated '68 season forced a lowering of the mound), but Gibson's feat could be repeated. Same ball, same human arm. All it takes is a little integrity and common sense.
Integrity. And common sense. That's what it takes to make a guy throw 28 complete games.
Seriously. "Integrity." And "common sense."
Integrity, to me, and to the dictionary, means something along the lines of: adherence to an ethic, or a set of moral principles. It can also mean honesty. It escapes me how any of this has anything to do with MLB pitch counts.
I suppose he could be using "integrity" in the sense of "maintenance of a whole." Like in Star Trek when a Klingon laser destroys the Enterprise's hull's integrity. That would make sense -- all it would take for someone to replicate Gibson's 300+ IP and 28 CG in 1968 would be, by definition, the maintenance of his physical integrity. But I don't think he meant that.
Let me also add here that he is actually arguing, seemingly, for a CG qua a CG -- like, it doesn't matter what the game situation is. People should just throw more complete games. Bud Black should send Peavy out there and have him toss 145 pitches no matter if he's up by 9 or down by 6. Because that would be better...for...someone?
And as for the "it could happen today" argument. Well, maybe it could. But why would you want to try? Gibson was a freak -- a once-in-a-generation pitcher with a killer arm. Saying you could have someone replicate his longevity feat today is like the child's argument that he shouldn't study because "Einstein dropped out of school in 8th grade," or "Bill Gates dropped out of college!" The antecedent in question is not the norm, thus the results of the experiment in question should not be counted on to be repeated.
But what do I know? Have Barry Zito throw 307 innings this year. Maybe that will help your Giants turn things around.
Next time you get upset when a sportswriter paints a picture of bloggers as big fat nerdy nerds who sit in front of their computers all day in their mom's basement, remember that you just referenced the Starship Enterprise's hull integrity.
If people didn't know better, they'd think we were frakkin' losers!
What's a bunch of meta-sports-commentary commentators to do?
Bill Plaschke hasn't written an article in nine days. Wallace Matthews hasn't published since June 26. Woody Paige, apparently, has been neglecting his writing in favor of his on-going propulsion experiments. The White Sox are playing down to their PECOTA predictions, so no one at the Trib or CST can glow about Ozzie. Even this guy -- normally so reliable -- has taken a break to cover Wimbledon.
It's tough days here at FJM.
I post this only to ask you, our loyal readers, to be vigilant. Go about your lives. Go to the movies, have a picnic with your children, do all of the things you normally do. But also, send us links to poorly-conceived and -executed articles in your hometown papers. Because if you don't, then the journalists will have won.
Imagine the strength of the Red Sox' rotation if they had the good sense to get rid of 87-year-old Tim Wakefield. The knuckeball act has become dreadfully tedious; even the Yankees own him. He's had some nice moments over the years, but it's time to join the cows and the sheep out on the pasture.
I was curious as to why Jenkins has it in for Wake, so I invited him to come with me to a Sox-Giants interleague game in beautiful AT&T Park. Here's my transcript of that totally real event that happened:
(Ken Tremendous and Jenkins settle into their seats in the Club Level. Ken has one of those awesome cheese-infused sausages they sell; Jenkins, fairly drunk already, holds an egg crate filled with eleven beers and one hot dog. He also has a flask filled with Old Grandad whiskey, and a wineskin overflowing with chablis.)
(For some reason -- and I did not expect this -- he speaks with a slight British accent.)
Bruce Jenkins: My my, what a lovely day. Ken Tremendous: Yes, it sure is. Careful! Oops...
(Jenkins has spilled six of the eleven beers all over his shirt. He does not seem to notice.)
BJ: Tell me, Mr. Tremendous, is this the first professional baseball game you've ever seen? KT: Um, no -- I've seen, like, hundreds of -- look out! Oh boy.
(Jenkins has taken a bite of his hot dog; the entire dog squirted out the other end of the bun, falling on his lap. There is now a copious amount of relish and ketchup leaking through his unzipped fly.)
BJ: (gnawing happily on the empty hot dog bun) You were saying? KT: Yes, um, I've been to hundreds of games. BJ: (chuckles) Really. Because you being a "web logger" and all, I just assumed that you would spend all your time-- KT: -- in my mom's basement. BJ: (simultaneously) -- in your mom's basement!! KT: Very clever. BJ: Zing! I zinged you, m'boy! KT: Yes, you did. Well played. BJ: You web-log all you want, Kenneth. Endulge yourself in imaginary statistics like "VORP," HEEP, SKANK and VLZSKS. I'll be out here in the sun, talking about a little thing I like to call "Runs Batted In." (Belches loudly.) KT: Okay. So, listen -- about this thing you wrote about Tim Wakefield... BJ: Oh my, yes. His knuckleball act has become dreadfully tedious. The Red Stockings should put him out to pasture! KT: He did get roughed up by the Yankees -- a very good hitting club -- and he's struggled recently. But the guy isn't bad. Every year, he's good for 180 innings and a 4.20ish DIPS. Isn't that good for a fourth starter?
(Jenkins stares at me blankly.)
BJ: What did you call me? KT: (confused) What? I didn't call you anything. BJ: You listen to me, you rogue! You blackguard! I didn't fight in the Boer War to be insulted by a man who probably still lives in his mom's basement! (chuckles to himself) KT: I wasn't insulting you. I was just pointing out that no matter what kind of pitch the guy throws, he's a pretty good fourth starter. I mean, the Sox only pay him $4 million a year, and his K/IP ratio is better than Mark Buehrle's. BJ: Blorrrmp.
(Jenkins has vomited a little. I help him clean off his chin)
KT: There we go. You okay? BJ: Listen, I don't care what your so-called "statistics" say. The man's act has become dreadfully tedious.
(He produces a partially-eaten grilled cheese sandwich from his waistcoat and washes down the bite with a long draw off the wineskin.)
KT: Yes, you mentioned that. But what-- BJ: I mean, where is the man's fastball?! Where is the challenge pitch? Where is the wicked googly? KT: Is that...a curveball? Because he throws a curveball occasionally. And no matter what, the guy has had a 100-or-above ERA+ in 13 out of his 15 years. That's pretty good. BJ: Will you stop spouting statistics, you mom's-basement-dweller?! Where are you even getting this information? KT: From my Blackberry. BJ: (eyes light up) A blackberry? Sounds delicious!
(He eats my Blackberry.)
KT: Oh boy. BJ: (licking fingers) Excellent. KT: I needed that. BJ: Look, Ken Tremendous -- if that is your real name! KT: It's not. BJ: This game is about traditions, my friend. It isn't called "NumbersBall." It's called "Rounders." KT: "Baseball." BJ: And Rounders just isn't Rounders without the sweet smell of the chalk, and the loud crack of rawhide in the Snufflebucket, and the crisp feeling of flerbits in the mrrrrph mrrgggle...
(Jenkins is fast asleep. I gently take the wineskin off his back and wrap him in my new Noah Lowry jersey. The first pitch is thrown, and I settle in to watch a baseball game.)
(Two hours later, Jenkins offers his final salvo...)
Re: Bruce Jenkins' gem about pitchers with ERAs over 4.00 (specifically, 4.29) being lousy.
Noticed this, from Jenkins' column a couple days ago:
"Barry Zito's brilliance was there for all to see, particularly a handful of clowns in the New York media who dismissed Zito as a flake last winter, when the Mets were in the running to sign him as a free agent (between the lines, Zito is about as flaky as an anvil)."
Barry Zito's ERA this year is 4.21, and he's "an anvil."
Tim Wakefield's is 4.24.
The fictional pitcher from Jenkins' Sept. 2005 column had a 4.29.
This is why my blood boils when people cite All Star Game Appearances as a measure of a player's abilities. Take it away, Bruce Jenkins:
One of the game's most astute writers, Jayson Stark of espn.com, marveled this week at the National League's candidates to start the All-Star game at shortstop. Narrowing it down to a statistical analysis of his top five candidates -- J.J. Hardy, Jose Reyes, Hanley Ramirez, Jimmy Rollins and Edgar Renteria -- he still found it a difficult choice. No kidding. Here's an even better way to go: Omar Vizquel. He's the greatest defensive shortstop in the history of the game. He may well wind up with 3,000 hits. The game is in San Francisco. And not one of those guys would have a problem with it. They all bow to the master.
First of all, Omar is 40 years old and has 2508 hits. If he gets 3000, I will buy Bruce Jenkins a new car -- his choice of model -- and I will personally chauffeur him to the game when Vizquel reaches the milestone. I will pay for the tickets to the game, all the hot dogs Jenkins can eat, and I will perform a striptease for him after the game. I will then hang myself in the public square of Jenkins' choosing, with "I'm an Idiot" spraypainted across my chest.
But back to the main thesis of this piece of nonsense.
Omar Vizquel has a .213 EqA. .213. His traditional stats are a sparkling .242/.283/.282. And you want him to start the All-Star Game.
I mean, I get that he's a great SS, and his career should be held in very high esteem. But come the fuck on, man.
23 year-old Jose Reyes has a .334 EqA, and is already at 8 FRAA. That translates to an 11.3 WARP3 for the year. He might be the most exciting and talented all-around player in baseball.
23 year-old Hanley Ramirez has a .344 EqA. .344!!!
24 year-old J.J. Hardy has a .319 EqA and a SLG of .601.
28 year-old Jimmy Rollins has a .296 EqA with 9 HR.
Edgar Renteria has a .316 EqA and is pounding the ball.
This is an absolute golden age of NL SS. Baseball should make it mandatory that all of these guys be on the All-Star team. They should make videos of them playing and give them away free at all MLB games. Bud Selig should learn how to play the lyre so he can write paeans to each of these men, who are baseball's best chance to get kids hooked on their product.
And Bruce Jenkins wants 71 year-old Omar Vizquel to start the All-Star Game.
I understand the desire to celebrate the careers of great players. But seriously. Bruce. That's batshit insane.
Rarely-cited, but truly beloved on this blog, Jenkins is the author of one of the all-time greatest articles in FJM history. Today he has some less egregious, but still silly, thoughts on the A's and Mark Kotsay.
Reflecting on the A's 2006 season, through all the fine moments provided by Frank Thomas, Huston Street and Milton Bradley, I always come back to Mark Kotsay, the consummate ballplayer.
In some ways, Jenkins is correct. As we point out in our glossary (click link at the top of the site), Kotsay is in many ways, at this moment in time, your prototypical "decent" baseball player. He has put up WARP3's of 5.4 and 3.0 in his last two seasons, both of which included 20-40 games missed to injury. He's a very good fielder and a decent hitter, when healthy, but next year he will be 31 and the days of WARP3's in the 6-8 range are probably over. He's like: not bad.
Struggling privately with his tortured back and some issues with manager Ken Macha, Kotsay was always good for the running catch, the double to left-center, the rally-triggering jolt of energy.
He was good for a whopping 7 HR and a line of .275/.332/.386 in 502 AB -- exactly, weirdly, the batting title qualification number. He hit into 18 DP. And as for doubles, he was "always good" for 29 of them. Eh.
With some guys, you peg them as ballplayers within a couple of warmup throws: George Brett, Buddy Bell, Derek Jeter, Torii Hunter. Kotsay is in that class.
Correct. He is in the "class" of "ballplayers," in that he has a major league contract guaranteed by the players' union's CBA. As for comparisons to Brett, Jeter, and Hunter...not so much, these days. Hunter is the same age and was worth 3.3 wins more to his team last year. And he hit 31 HR.
I'm not sure how good any of those guys' warm-up throws are, to be fair.
It's a crushing development for the A's, losing Kotsay for some three months.
I don't think so. They have a lot of good outfielders. I wouldn't call it "crushing." And weirdly -- and this is where Jenkins really kicks it into high gear, idiot-wise -- neither would Jenkins. Because even though he himself labeled the loss "crushing," and even though he presumably had access to a "delete" key, and ample time to use it, just four sentences later he writes this:
It definitely hurts the A's, but there's nothing wrong with a starting outfield of Bradley, Nick Swisher and Shannon Stewart.
So...not "crushing," then?
When Kotsay and Bobby Kielty return, their outfield will be in excellent shape again (we're assuming that Stewart is free of the foot problems that bothered him over the past two seasons). Some of the younger outfielders, like Ryan Goleski and Travis Buck, will get a longer look.
So...definitely not "crushing," in that they also have Milton Bradley (29 years old, higher WARP3 than Kotsay last year in fewer games) and Swisher (26, stud, 8+ WARP3 last year) and Stewart, who stinks a little, but not much more than Kotsay, and Kielty, who is nothing to write home about but is roughly as good as Kotsay has been recently. And while Goleski is no great shakes, if Buck hits his 50th percentile predictions, he'll be more valuable than Kotsay was last year, and he's only 23.
In any case, this is the A's way: They survive. They regenerate. They lose talent with fightening regularity, all the while retaining their highly respectable status in the American League.
That is to say...it will not in any way be "crushing" to lose Mark Kotsay for a while.
Bruce Jenkins is paid -- every week, presumably -- to write about things for the San Francisco Chronicle. Here's one example of what they get for their money. The subject is new Dodgers' GM Ned Colletti. (Thanks to reader Tony and others for the link.)
Some people in L.A. have expressed concern that Colletti was never a scout, but take our word for it: He sees the game as well as anybody.
He has excellent vision, and his position as GM means he has great seats to every game.
And that's the key: He sees it. He'll take statistics into account, but Colletti is the kind of guy whose first impression of a prospect might be, "There goes a ballplayer" -- and he'll be right.
The secret behind this amazing ability: He identifies them by their uniforms, and the fact that they are holding mitts and bats.
"To me," he says, "how a player approaches the game, how he approaches life, far outweighs what the stat line looks like." For Dodger fans weary of Paul DePodesta's computer-generated philosophies, there is palpable relief.
Really? This is what you want? A guy who actually says that the way a guy "approaches" the game is not as important as how well he plays the game? Look, DePo made some mistakes, and more importantly, he got absolutely housed by injuries. But why there is this sense of snotty "vindication," or something, by people who frown on actual analysis of players' abilities...I just don't understand it. It has the same flavor as a bunch of 19th century noblemen sipping brandy in a drawing room and laughing about the idea that women would get involved in politics, or something. "Well, of course, the very idea of this new approach is ludicrous. But we'll let them have their little fun, and then get back to the way things ought to be."
Along those lines, such mercurial talents as Juan Pierre and Carl Crawford are reportedly available in trade. The "Moneyball" guys can forget them. Way too fast and disruptive. Too much imagination. Too much of a threat to manufacture runs.
If you're going to snidely dismiss us, please cite players we would actually not want. Carl Crawford can play on my Moneyball team anyday. He's 24 years old. His OPS in the last three years has gone .671/.781/.800. His HR have gone 5-11-15. He is awesome. I might take Pierre as well, though his OPS dropped 100 points from 2004-05, and his .326 OBP last year just killed his team.
Also: "too much imagination?" What the effing eff are you talking about? That doesn't mean anything. These two guys do exactly what all baseball players do: they hit, run, and field. Does "imagination" mean "bunting?" Sometimes these two guys bunt. Or does it mean "steal bases?" Because lots of guys do this -- and these two guys do it well. The reason they are good is because they are good hitters and they are fast and play good defense. The reason Crawford is excellent -- and a potential MVP candidate someday, if you ask me -- is because he also hits for power, which Pierre does not do.
And please, please, please, stop using the phrase "manufacture runs." Please. I beg of you. It's really dumb.
The point is, don't criticize something you don't understand, Bruce Jenkins. Because, as the old saying goes, when you criticize something you don't understand, you make an ass out of you.
See Junior's post below for the real boneheadedness, but here's more:
"And on the year, he's got a solid ERA of 4.29."
Nope. There's nothing solid about an ERA over 4.00, no matter what the league or the circumstances. Just because we're passing through a period of inflated offensive numbers and lousy pitching, 4.29 is not impressive. You want solid? Try Dazzy Vance's 2.61 for Brooklyn in 1930, when the league hit .303. Try Steve Carlton's 1.97 for a 1972 Phillies team that won 59 games. Or Roger Clemens' ERA last week.
Um, okay. There's a difference between "solid," which is the word you used in the made-up quotation, and "impressive," which is the word you then use to critique your own made-up quotation-er. 4.29 is, I think "solid. It would put you 63rd in MLB out of the 90 or so pitchers who have qualified for the ERA title. Which isn't great, but it's not terrible. Here are some pitchers between 3.80 and 4.29: Danny Haren, Scott Kazmir, Brad Radke, Jason Marquis, Noah Lowry, Cliff Lee, Brad Penny, C.C. Sabathia, Bronson Arroyo, Greg Maddux, Mike Mussina, Jon Lieber, Jason Schmidt, Freddy Garcia, Livan Hernandez, and Matt Morris.
Jake Westbrook and Scott Elarton, from the vaunted Cleveland Indians staff, are both above 4.29.
The point is, 4.29 isn't great, but your fictional "dumb person" didn't say it was "great," (s)he said it was "solid." And it's pretty solid. And the more important point is, 4.29 is one or two good outings from being really quite good. Which is why ERA is a stupid stat by which to measure pitchers. (Although, admittedly, it is better when applied to starters. But it's still very raw and unreliable.) And it's also why WHIP and K/BB ratio are better, but we know how you feel about those, you dummy.
Also, no one would ever claim that Dazzy Vance's 2.61 was "solid." We would say it was "great." You changed the rules in the middle of your rant, silly!
"I've got Mike Matheny as the catcher on my all-overrated team, because he doesn't hit. Catcher defense is not really important."
Unbelievable. When I think about great teams, I think about Jason Varitek's absolute command of a game; Pudge Rodriguez defiantly holding the series-winning baseball after his collision with J.T. Snow; Thurman Munson defining a team's spirit as he summons one more throw from a bum shoulder; Mike Scioscia taking hits amounting to a Ray Lewis tackle at full speed. Whether it's shoddy pitch calling, the inability to "frame" pitches or a general lack of toughness, a poor defensive catcher exposes a team's vulnerability.
I agree with you -- I think catching defense is very important. My question is, who the hell says catching defense isn't important? Is that a commonly heard thing? I've never heard anyone say that. What I have heard, is people talking about how having a catcher who's good offensively is a HUGE bonus. And when people say that, the people they cite are often: Jason Varitek, Pudge Rodriguez, and sometimes Thurman Munson.
"Wow, check it out: Home runs are down. Must be the steroid testing."
Wait a minute: Would you even know they're down without the statistics? Does it feel like they're down? Don't ignore the elements of tiny ballparks, juiced balls, magic bats and pitchers (not just hitters) getting off the juice, but balls are flying out of the yard. Middle infielders continue to hit absurd home runs (I saw Frank Menechino put one over the center-field fence in Toronto with a one-armed swing on a low-and-outside pitch). Everyone was curious to watch the All-Star home run contest in this alleged new era, and balls left the park as if the hitters were setting up golf balls on a tee.
You have to be kidding me. First of all, yes, it does seem like HR are down, and I feel that without looking at stats. You know how you judge things like this? By looking at the extremes of the bell curve. Remember in the late 1990's and early '00's, when everybody and his brother hit 50+ HR? Remember Brady Anderson? Remember Sammy Sosa hitting 60+ three years in a row, many of them flat-footed the other way, and then steroid testing started and he's hit like 12 and looks lost at the plate? Isn't it interesting that Giambi fell apart and took a full year to come back and now everyone is saying he's back on HGH? Don't you find it interesting that Andruw Jones is the only guy in MLB with 50+ this year, when 18 of the 36 50+ seasons in BASEBALL HISTORY happened between 1996 and 2004? And six of the eight 60+ seasons happened in the same time period? Even without looking that stuff up, if you're an observer of baseball, even a casual one, you must have noted that at the extreme end of the spectrum, things are very very different, which in turn suggests that HR are, overall, down, which they indeed are.
And, as far as your last sentence goes, if you think that the results of a HR Derby say anything -- ANYTHING -- about steroids or HR or anything involving actual baseball, you are a complete moron.
When you check the actual numbers (this is from mid-August), the homers-per-game average is down to 2.08 from last year's 2.25. Is this some kind of joke? Scan this statistic for the past 10 years, and it always rounds off to two homers per game. Sound the alarm when it goes from 5.8 to 1.6.
Careful -- those sound like statistics. You don't want to become a stat geek, Bruce. But, as long as you have dipped your toe in an ocean that you don't understand, let me say this: the sentence "it always rounds off to two homers per game" is stupid beyond belief. Considering there are 2430 games played a year, the difference between a HR/game ratio of, say 2.49 and 1.51 (not that that really exists, but for the sake of argument), both of which would round off to "2", would mean a difference of 2381 HR/year. Even a difference of 2.49 and 2.00 means 1190 more/less HR per year. Which seems significant to me.
The drop-off from 2.25 to 2.08, at which you scoff, is a difference of more than 400 HR hit. That's a lot of HR.
For the record, if it ever went from 5.8 to 1.6, that would mean a drop-off of more than 10,000 HR/year, which would either mean that baseball's rules had changed to force 6 year-old children to play all OF positions, or that an alien invasion had killed 80% of major leaguers.
"Well, at least we know that guys like Brian Roberts, Adam Dunn and Todd Helton are clean."
Listen, that's probably true. There isn't one bit of evidence to the contrary. But clean living, or a simple lifestyle, offers no clues about steroid use. This isn't about robbing a drug store; it's a procession of the dim-witted, lining up like sheep to stay up with a trend. Don't say you're certain that someone is clean, because you don't know that -- just as you don't know if any alleged steroid abuser is clean this season.
Fantastic. Let's assume every single MLBer is on steroids. Great plan. That will make baseball really fun. Let's also assume all former NFL running backs are potential murderers. Can they prove they are not? And just for the hell of it, I will also go ahead and assume that since you are a complete idiot, all baseball writers are idiots, until they can prove otherwise.
Also, Junior already dealt with this, but it makes me so angry I have to chime in (see below for full quote):
But no matter how modern-day statisticians try to downplay traditional numbers, there's a volume of meaning in .178, .230, .289 and .337, at least when based over a long period of time.
The reason we "stat geeks" hate BA is because people think a guy who hits .306 is way better than a guy who hits .285, when in actuality, that represents like nine additional bleeders through the infield over the course of a year. Obviously, Bruce, you ignoramus, there is a great deal of difference between .178 and .337. Because that's a lot of hits. But ten points (or even 20) of BA over the course of a year can be attributed almost entirely to luck and situational karma for a hitter. In order to measure a batter's worth, you simply cannot use BA. End of story.
Bruce Jenkins is vying for the title. Hat tip to about twenty different readers for this article, ironically titled "Stupid comments are up."
Keep in mind, in this column, Jenkins is taking others to task for their stupid comments. And now I'm calling him out for his stupid comments on those supposedly stupid comments. Still with me?
Didn't think so. Here we go:
"Interesting team. They've got one guy leading the league in WHIP and another in VORP."
For heaven's sake, speak English. This is the new cool trend in baseball, quoting esoteric statistics as if they've been part of the game's fabric for 50 years. Go ahead, disappear into a basement somewhere and play around with numbers. Be sure to remember HEEP, SKANK and VLZSKS, while you're at it. We'll be out in the sun, discussing a little thing we like to call "runs batted in."
Jorge Cantu has more RBI than Derrek Lee. If that's the statistic you want to hitch your wagon to, enjoy.
Also, since he's pretty much calling everyone who cites statistics nerds, I did a search for "Bruce Jenkins" on baseballreference.com.
The results? "Found 0 hits for your search."
Bruce Jenkins: never a professional baseball player.
"These old white-haired scouts are kidding themselves. I can tell everything I need to know from a detailed set of numbers."
Hopelessly wrong. Numbers won't tell you if a hitter becomes especially tough after a pitch under his chin, if a slow baserunner steals third on the sheer logic of the situation, if a guy has about three vodkas too many after a bad game, or if a pitcher walks off the mound, exuding command, instead of running off like a scared jackrabbit. Check the stats, absolutely, but look at the face. Inspect the body language. See if your prospect acts the part, or if he just might be a mirage.
I don't care if a pitcher calmly walks off the mound or transforms into a giant hovercraft and levitates back to the dugout. I just want him to have a good WHIP. Yes, "WHIP."
Look at the face? Have you seen Julian Tavarez's face? Any face scout worth his salt wouldn't have let him within a hundred yards of a baseball diamond.
"Forget batting average. That's irrelevant."
Right, like a player's eyesight is irrelevant. Team batting average can be highly misleading, because it doesn't deal with specifics. But no matter how modern-day statisticians try to downplay traditional numbers, there's a volume of meaning in .178, .230, .289 and .337, at least when based over a long period of time. That's a wonderful little taste of truth.
Adam Dunn's career batting average is .249. Shea Hillenbrand's career batting average is .289. One of these players is extremely valuable.
"I'd get him out of there right now. I know he's pitching a one-hitter, but he's thrown 105 pitches."
Take a cue from Leo Mazzone, the Braves' pitching coach, and watch the game, not the numbers. Without question, certain pitchers need to be protected, but in the decade of the '90s, there were remarkable pitch counts by David Cone (166), Clemens (165, 164 and 159), Randy Johnson (157, 159 and two at 160) and Curt Schilling (148 in his 1993 World Series shutout for the Phillies). Earlier this season, Livan Hernandez had a 150-pitch start for Washington. Combined long-term damage: None.
So according to Bruce Jenkins, it's worth taking the risk of permanently harming your young pitchers to get that extra inning or two in because Randy Johnson, Curt Schilling, and Roger Clemens are still going strong. How are you supposed to know if your young stud is one of those guys or one of the fragile Cubs guys?
Eh, just throw 'em out there for 150 pitches.
There's a lot more here, but I'm too angry to type without destroying this keyboard.
