FIRE JOE MORGAN

You're a ChiSox fan. Against all odds, your team is +76 in run differential and leading the AL Central. Your GM, who can be a dunderhead sometimes, made excellent moves last off-season, and got you Carlos Quentin and Nick Swisher, and even though Swish is underperforming a bit, somehow Jermaine Dye is having his best year, and Jim Thome is putting up an .890 OPS, and you're getting some great innings out of John Danks and Gavin Floyd, and Scott Linebrink is making bloggers everywhere look stupid since we all thought getting him was a terrible move.

In short, things are going really well.

Then, at the trade deadline, your GM goes out and gets: Ken Griffey, Jr.

Who's good. Who might make your team better. But who is 38. And gets hurt a lot.

And then Ken Williams says: We're going to play him in CF, and maybe move Swisher to first, and (presumably) bench Paul Konerko (?). Or something?

Huh.

Needless to say, if you're you, you're a little confused by this. At least you're wary. Junior hasn't played CF since like 1965, and is Konerko going to DH against lefties or something? And how would Konerko take it if he's benched since he makes $12m a year through 2010, because, again, your GM can be a dunderhead sometimes? And what in the world is a defensive OF of Dye, Griffey, and Quentin going to look like?

In times like these, you, a ChiSox fan, have only one place to turn for analysis. There is only one place you go to get the real insider "here's what this means" and "here's what we can expect" breakdown.

You turn to the Trib. You turn...to Mike Downey.

Ken Griffey Jr. in a Sox Uniform? I'm Stoked

He's stoked, you guys. He and his boys are psyched. Dude. Bro. Seriously? I'm fucking stoked about this. Griffbones is going to crush it.

I zipped over to the Web sites as fast as my fingers could type Thursday to find out if it was fiction or fact.

I forgot I am a journalist and don't have to get information the way everyone else does, so instead of talking to my colleagues or calling someone in the Reds' FO or something, I "zipped" over to the "Web sites" as fast as "my fingers could type." Because I have never used a computer, and don't know how to, and had to ask my 5 year-old nephew what someone who used a computer would say if they wanted to tell people they had used a computer.

Cincinnati Enquirer, 9:47 a.m.: "Reds trade Griffey."

Not might trade. No "trade Griffey?" with a question mark. Did trade.

And to the White Sox yet!

And to the White Sox yet! Say boys, didja hear? Junior Griffey is to be a Chicagoan! Well slap my thigh and call me a dirigible! Roosevelt has a plan for the Krauts, by Joe! Extree, extree! Say, what news from the coast? Harvard defeats Cal in the Rose Bowl! The Maine is lost! Thousands gather to see new "Talking Pictures" -- the marvels of science never cease!

The Tribune, 9:36 a.m.: "Griffey headed to Sox."

Sorry. Just want to make sure I have the timeline correct.

8:?? or 9:?? AM: The Sports- and Editorial Departments of the Chicago Tribune, where Mike Downey works, learn of the impending trade of Ken Griffey, Jr. to the White Sox.

9:?? AM: Someone at Mike Downey's own paper begins to write up an article about how Ken Griffey Jr. has been traded to the White Sox. Downey, presumably, naps at his desk.

9:36 AM: Mike Downey's own paper, the Chicago Tribune, then posts the article, on its Web sites, about the Griffey trade. Downey: still napping.

9:47 AM: The Cincinnati Enquirer posts an article about the Griffey trade on its Web sites.

Somewhere around 10:?? AM: Downey awakens, wipes drool from face. Is informed somehow that Ken Griffey, Jr. has been traded to the White Sox, a team that plays in the town where he works as a journalist.

10:02 AM: At a complete loss as to how to pursue this information, so as to ascertain its validity, Downey turns on his computer for the first time ever. Has to go through a series of steps to create a Tribune user name and password. Sees confusing screen about software updates ready for download. Calls IT.

10:28 AM: Tribune IT guy Derek Greenhorn finishes installing Windows update on Downey's computer, tells Downey that he can now access the internet. Downey stares at him blankly.

11:56 AM: Greenhorn finishes an accelerated tutorial on "surfing the web." Downey is pretty sure he has a handle on it.

11:57: Downey tries to, in his own words, "smurf the World Wide Weird," ends up erasing his own hard drive and those of the 6 people closest to him. Tribune server crashes. Smoke pours out of Downey's computer. Downey realizes he is hungry and heads down to get himself a personal pan pizza and a tall glass of beer from a neighborhood restaurant while Greenhorn rushes to save the Tribune computer system.

2:18 PM: Downey smurfs the Weird under close supervision from Greenhorn and two Chicago-based FBI agents whose domestic terror-alert system has mis-identified Downey's computer's IP address as the possible epicenter of an internet-based terror attack.

2:19 PM: Downey does a Google-brand World Wide Weird seach protocol for "Cincinnati red baseball player Ken Griffey Jr was he traded? please help me internet I've never done this before am I doing this right? oh God, well, here goes nuttin'!", hits "shift," then "delete," then -- sure that he's figured out the right move here -- "help," then finally "return," and gazes blankly at his results. He then subsequently zips over to the Enquirer sports page, and sees that at 9:47, they published an article about the Griffey trade.

2:55 PM: After another brief nap, Downey wonders aloud whether his paper, the Chicago Tribune, has posted anything about the Griffey trade. So after a quick refresher course with Derek Greenhorn over in IT, who is now actively posting his resume on Monster.com because, in his own words, "I can't work with these boneheads for one more second or I'll kill myself," Downey figures out how to zip over to the Trib Web sites, and sees that at 9:36 AM -- several minutes earlier than the Enquirer posted their story, the Trib had posted a newsflash about Griffey being traded to the White Sox.

"Hot dog!" says Downey, to no one, as he munches on his now-cold personal pan pizza. "I'm going to write an article about this amazing day I'm having!"

Excellent news. I was stoked.

Oh, that Ken Williams, always something up his sleeve. If not an ace, then a king.

Or a 38.7 year-old oft-injured corner OF with a 103 OPS+. So, like, maybe the 9 of clubs.

Ken Griffey Jr., in center field at the Cell?

Yeah. Scary, right?

A cause to rejoice—set off the fireworks.

Oh. You went that way with it.

If you can get a guy who has more home runs than Frank Robinson, Mark McGwire, Harmon Killebrew, Reggie Jackson, Mike Schmidt, Mickey Mantle, Ernie Banks and Lou Gehrig, hallelujah and amen.

Sammy Sosa and Barry Bonds: also available. Omar Vizquel has more hits than Reggie Jackson, Joe Morgan, Mickey Mantle, and Enos Slaughter. Maybe they should pick him up, too.

I began to picture it.

Ball after ball dropping in front of Jr. Line drives that Swisher would've caught easily splitting the gap for run-scoring doubles. Griffey running back and to his right, then pulling up lame as Nick Punto rounds second and thinks about trying to score...

Griffey in between Carlos Quentin and Jermaine Dye in the outfield?

OK, so maybe it wouldn't be the defensive equivalent of Reed Johnson in left, Jim Edmonds in center and Kosuke Fukudome in right, but it'll do. (Dye has been playing a mean right field, in fact.)

Griffey in CF won't be the equivalent of Tribune IT guy Derek Greenhorn in CF.

Ah, but Griffey right behind Quentin and Dye in the batting order? I like the sound of that.

Well, he'll definitely be better offensively than Brian Anderson. You've got that going for you. But to reiterate: 103 OPS+. Oft-injured. Center Field.

Followed by Jim Thome sixth, Paul Konerko or Nick Swisher seventh and Joe Crede (as soon as he comes back) eighth? Pitchers will swallow their seeds and gum.

The line-up is better. But this is not Manny Ramirez. It's 38.7 year-old Junior Griffey. Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Could this be true?

I don't know, man. Zip over to a few more web sites and see what's up.

Uh, oh:

ESPN, 10 a.m.: "Griffey to ChiSox: Will He Agree?"

Mike Downey, a sportswriter for one of the biggest media outlets in one of the biggest media centers in the world, is getting his insider info from web sites. Like I do.

Who says bloggers and the MSM don't have anything in common?

Major League Baseball's authorized site, 10:20 a.m.: "Griffey to White Sox, pending OK."

Who refers to MLB.com as "Major League Baseball's authorized site?" That's like saying, "You know what my favorite TV show is? Emergency Room."

Oh, no.

Junior won't go? Say it ain't so!

You are 1,000 years old.

I was salivating. A pickup of a 38-year-old outfielder doesn't usually excite me. But gimpy old Edmonds hasn't done too badly for the Cubs, has he?

Fair enough. Not a good predictor of how Griffey will do -- at all -- but fair enough.

Now you're telling me a whopper is on the line but could slip off the hook? Ken Griffey Jr., a man who needs only eight more hits to have as many as Ted Williams?

If you think about this for a second, you will realize that this is not a good reason to want a guy on your team. Because it means he is old. What you want is a guy about whom you could say: "He's currently in his prime, and his prime is comparable to Ted Williams's prime" or something. This is like saying, "I want Dr. Grzlickson to perform my surgery. He has performed more than 1000 surgeries in his 82 years as a practicing doctor."

A man with more hits than Joe Morgan, Ryne Sandberg and Jim Rice?

See above.

What a sight in a White Sox suit he would be. Only 17 more hits and he can catch Nellie Fox. Only 31 more and he can catch Luis Aparicio.

Ugh. See above, again.

But wait?

He might refuse to come?

Who thought it was a good idea to print an article that details every mundane twist and turn in Mike Downey's personal musings on whether the Griffey trade would get done, without any analysis or insight into (a) what it will mean or (b) how it was accomplished or (c) any quotes from people involved or (d) anything remotely resembling entertainment?

Griffey has a right to turn down any deal to a new team? He might stay in his hometown of Cincy instead of favoring us with his presence here in Chi-town?

Yes. We know all of this. It happened in the past, and then did not hold up the trade. This is like having someone recount their dream to you and then tell you, unnecessarily, at the end, that it was all a dream.

I checked the sites one more time.

Seriously, man -- do you not understand that you, a professional journalist, have access to the same sources that are giving these reporters at other papers and web sites the information that they are then using to write these articles? If I were the President, and I wanted to know if the Senate had confirmed my choice for a Supreme Court Justice, I might try calling a Senator on the phone instead of refreshing Drudge every five minutes.

Cincinnati.com, 10:32 a.m.: "Report: Griffey OKs deal."

There were comments from readers, presumably Reds fans, as if Junior definitely was a goner.

Pretty clearly the first time he has ever looked at a web site. "And there are readers' comments at the bottom! And advertisements for products! And best of all, I won a free iPod!"

"Good luck, Griffey," wrote one. "I hope you can play in a World Series." (He never has, so as Frank Thomas might put it, join the club.)

But was it a mirage? A false alarm? Would it be a big tease for Sox fans to come this close to having Griffey on their side?

This article has taken on the timbre of a grandpa recounting the story of the Great Griffey Trade of '08 to his 4 year-old grandson as the grandson drifts off to sleep. Which the readers of the article, coincidentally, have begun to do as well.

I went to Fox Sports' site to see what was up.

I decided to insert yet another middleman between me, a professional sports journalist, and the sports journalism information I needed.

Fox had been a source for that "Griffey OKs deal" report.

I am bored.

"OK, I'll Go."

That was the headline I found. Griffey approved a deal to the Sox, the story claims as fact.

This is torture. This is like, you get on the elevator at work and you see a guy you kind of know, and he says, "Hey Ken." And you go, "Hey Jim. What'd you do this weekend?" and Jim says, "Well. When I left work on Friday I realized I was hungry. Which is odd, since I had just had a granola bar like 30 minutes earlier. But, nonetheless, there I was: hungry. So I walked East down Fremont Street about .3 miles until I came upon Gary's Deli. I went inside. I looked at all my options, food-wise, and settled on a bagel. I took it to the counter and paid for it with cash. The total was $1.97 after tax. So I took the bagel and I walked to the parking lot where my car, a 1998 Camry, was parked. Inserting the key into the lock, I gained access to my car, got into the driver's side, started the engine, shifted into 'drive,' and headed for home..." And the door opens on your floor and you run away.

A Junior achievement award for Ken Williams and company.

Who doesn't love a good pun?

Awaiting confirmation, I tried to conjure up an image of Junior in the Sox clubhouse.

"I drove the 12.8 miles to my house, parked the car in my driveway, exited the Camry, locked the doors, and headed inside..."

Would he dye his hair platinum blond like A.J. Pierzynski? Grow a goatee and dye it blond like Juan Uribe and Bobby Jenks? Wear his facial hair a different way every day like Swisher?

Or would he simply be good old, classy, mature, solid-citizen, credit-to-the-game Ken Griffey Jr., an asset to anybody's team?

These are some fucking exciting musings.

A clock is ticking and they still claim Junior is on his way.

I'll believe it when I see him. What was that song Pierzynski and the guys played during the 2005 World Series?

"Don't Stop Believing."

OK, A.J., play it again.

And that's how it ends.

You know. Baseball journalism.

Labels: analysis, derek greenhorn, dr. grzlickson, exciting things, ken griffey jr., mike downey, smurfing the world wide weird

But I think I have to do it anyway.

Settle in.

Regarding this increasingly hard-to-get-into baseball shrine of ours:

[Super over-the-top sarcastic; leaning in as if transfixed] Uh huhhhhhh?!?!?!?!?

A monument to the greatest ballplayers who ever lived, it is about to bar its doors and deny admittance to baseball's all-time leader in hits (Pete Rose) and home runs (Barry Bonds), as well as to the third-best batting average in history (Joe Jackson's .356) and quite possibly to the gargantuan feats of Clemens, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire.

Rose: cheated/lied
Bonds: cheated/lied
Jackson: cheated/maybe didn't/made an example of
Clemens: seems to have cheated/seems to have lied/not voted on yet
Sosa: cheated/lied
McGwire: cheated/lied/lied to Congress*

Let me give you a prime example of the absurdity of it all:

[so over-the-top sarcastic I now have a British accent] Would you please?!!?!

Harold Baines received a mere 28 votes in the recently tabulated Hall of Fame election. The former White Sox outfielder fell 380 shy of the 408 required for induction. Fourteen other players from this year's ballot alone received more than Baines did.

OK, are you ready?

Ready!

Harold Baines has more hits than Brooks Robinson, Charlie Gehringer, George Sisler, Luke Appling, Lou Gehrig … (keep going) … Billy Williams, Luis Aparicio, Nellie Fox, Jimmie Foxx, Ted Williams, Reggie Jackson, Ernie Banks … (don't stop now) … Joe Morgan, Tony Perez, Richie Ashburn, Ozzie Smith, Lloyd Waner, Pie Traynor, Mickey Mantle … (tired yet?) … Ryne Sandberg, Carlton Fisk, Orlando Cepeda, Eddie Mathews, Kirby Puckett, Mike Schmidt …

Who on blog's green earth would evaluate HOF inductees solely by hits? What kind of insane cherry pick is that? Not any other stat. Not longevity or era...not even taking position into account. Just: hits. Hits! That's like evaluating pitchers based on saves and deciding Pedro Martinez doesn't get in because he only has three.

I guess the answer is: Mike Downey of the Trib. He would evaluate HOF inductees solely by hits.

So, here's where it gets annoying.

Baines: 120 OPS+

Gehringer: 124 OPS+ (as a 2bman)
Sisler: 124
Appling: 112 (as a SS. .399 career OBP)
Gehrig: 179 (4th all-time)
B. Williams: 133
Aparicio: 82. (I know he was a great fielder, but what the hell is he doing in the HOF? Look at his 1959 season. That must be the worst #2 finish in the MVP voting ever. Can someone who knows a lot about that guy please email me and explain it? I'm willing to learn.)
N. Fox: 93. Must have been a hell of a second baseman.
Foxx: 163
T. Williams: 191 (2nd all-time)
R. Jackson: 139
Banks: 122 (for a guy who played a lot of games at SS)
Morgan: 132 (2B)
Perez: 122 (and probably doesn't belong)
Ashburn: 111 (and probably doesn't belong)
O. Smith: 87, for maybe the best fielding SS ever.
L. Waner: only 99 for Little Poison. But he had like 2450 hits in 2200 fewer AB than Baines, and a .316 career average.
Traynor: 107, but he hit .320 career and had 2400+ hits in 7500 AB.
Mantle: 172
Sandberg: 114 as a very good-fielding 2Bman.
Fisk: 117 as a catcher
Cepeda: 133
Mathews: 143
Puckett: 124
Schmidt: 147

The few people he's named who have career OPS+s lower than Baines are either middle IF or C or something, and/or had far higher BA (and thus many more hits in far fewer AB).

And now he's going to name some more people.

(We're almost done now) … Joe DiMaggio, Kiki Cuyler, Joe Cronin, Joe Medwick, Bill Terry, Pee Wee Reese, Yogi Berra, Duke Snider, Harmon Killebrew, Willie McCovey, Johnny Bench, Gary Carter, George Kell, Bobby Doerr, Bill Mazeroski, Johnny Mize, Bill Dickey, Gabby Hartnett, Jackie Robinson and a couple of dozen other "immortals" whose busts are in the Hall of Fame.

I am so annoyed right now.

DiMaggio: 155 OPS+
Cuyler: 125 (and a .386 OBP)
Cronin: 117 (.390 OBP primarily as a SS)
Medwick: 134
Terry: 136
Reese: 99 as a SS (and a .366 OBP)
Berra: 125
Snider: 140
Killebrew: 143
McCovey: 147
Bench: 126
G. Carter: 115 (might not belong)
Kell: 111 (.306 career, elected in by Veterans Committee)
Doerr: 115 as 2Bman. Voted in by VC.
Maz: 84. Voted in by VC. Probably doesn't belong.
Mize: 158
Dickey: 127
Hartnett: 126
J. Robinson: if you have to defend Jackie's inclusion by any measure into the HOF you're an idiot. But his OPS+ is 132.

So there you have it. Very few of the people Downey has listed had a lower adjusted OPS than Harold Baines. The ones that did either played a much tougher position, or racked up tons of hits in a much shorter amount of time, or were Wizards defensively, or were voted in by that big softie of a teddy bear the Veterans Committee, or probably shouldn't be there at all.

How could you begin to explain who is worthy and who is not?

By using something other than "career hits" to evaluate them. Do you really not know the answer to that question?

How do you justify to people why Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter are in Cooperstown, with their humble stats, whereas Lee Smith is not and Clemens with his colossal 354 victories might never be?

Sutter was a weak choice. Gossage was somewhat more defensible, and he had years where he threw like 134 innings. I'm not sure what the argument is against Lee Arthur -- he had roughly a K per inning, and his WHIP is just about the same as Gossage's, though Gossage threw like 600 more innings. And Clemens might not be voted in because he seems to have cheated, lied, and then lied again on 60 Minutes, and then (theoretically) lied to Congress. Did you not hear about that? It was in all the papers.

How do you point out to the public—or, for that matter, to the voters—that Baines stands 40th on the all-time hits list? That he had seven fewer hits than Babe Ruth?

Well...you could start by saying that Harold Baines was a very good, but not great, hitter, who is 27th on the all-time at-bats list with 9908. And if a guy is a very good, but not great, hitter who has 9908 AB, he will probably get a lot of hits, but that doesn't necessarily make him one of the greatest players every to play the game. You might cite Al Oliver (9049 AB, 2743 H) as another of these people. Or Craig Biggio (10876 AB, 3060 H).

And then someone might say "But Craig Biggio should be in the Hall of Fame!" and you might say, "I think I agree with you, because although he had a tremendous number of AB, which helped him get those 3060 hits, he played very tough positions -- catcher, 2B, CF -- which make his statistical accomplishments more impressive than Harold Baines's, since Baines played more than 60% of his games as a DH and the others as a corner OF."

And then -- your voice straining, your hands shaking from having to explain these incredibly simple concepts to a grown man -- you could also maybe say that Babe Ruth was the greatest fucking hitter in the history of baseball, that he hit more HR in 1921 than eight entire teams, that he is the all-time leader in OPS+, that he hit .342, that he had those seven more hits in 1600 fewer AB than Baines, that he hit 714 HR playing in an era where there was a HOFer whose nickname was "Home Run" who never hit more than twelve HR in a season, and that comparing Harold Baines favorably to Babe Ruth in anything except "months lived after the year 1948" is the biggest and most disingenuous waste of fucking time anyone could possibly fucking imagine.

Would that help explain it?

Couldn't they contend that Bill Buckner's 2,715 hits also are more than the likes of Ted and Billy Williams had, more than Reggie and Mickey, more than Fox and Foxx, more than Mr. Cub and Joe D and Yogi and the Duke? But that by no stretch of your imagination would Billy Buck strike you as worthy of the Hall?

Couldn't they say that Jose Guillen is a better baseball player than Barry Bonds because Guillen has more hit-by-pitches? Yes -- but they would be insane.

How do you argue with Ron Santo's rabid supporters that, good as he was, he ranks tied for 140th place in hits, 80th in home runs, 82nd in RBIs and that his .277 lifetime average was not exactly the stuff of legends?

You say: "He was really good, but not quite good enough." Or, you don't argue at all, but rather agree. Either way is valid.

Roger Maris is not in the Hall of Fame. As you well know, Maris not only broke the Babe's single-season home run record of 60, he did it on a diet that included beer and cigarettes, not human growth hormone.

What is the point? What are we even talking about? Did I die? Am I dead? This seems like hell.

More and more, you hear nostalgic baseball purists rue the fact that Maris never was deemed worthy of the Hall, the same way a lights-out hitter like Jim Rice repeatedly has been denied entry … this week for the 14th consecutive year.

Who hears this? No one seriously believes Roger Maris is one of the all-time greats, really. I think I'm dead.

Well, permit me to remind these folks something about Mr. Maris.

He had 1,325 hits. That ranks him in a tie for 731st place all-time.

Right. Doesn't deserve it. There's no argument here. (I'm definitely dead. Someone murdered me. And this is my penance. I am consigned to reading and commenting on this article for the rest of time.)

Players who already have more hits than Maris did in his entire career include these giants of the game: Jose Valentin, Tony Womack, Neifi Perez, Cliff Floyd, Juan Pierre, Rondell White, Royce Clayton, Ray Durham, Jason Kendall and Mark Grudzielanek.

No one fucking thinks Roger Maris should be in the Hall of Fame. If they do, they're wrong. You are not proving anything by just citing hit totals. (I think I know who did it. I think it was HatGuy. You know how no one's heard from HatGuy in a long time? He's been laying low and planning my murder.)

I see occasional references to "can't-miss" Hall of Famers among active players. Yet so many can't-missers have missed.

Luis Gonzalez, a fine individual, certainly no immortal, currently stands 85th on the all-time hits list. Did you know that? He has more hits than Mantle and DiMaggio did, more than Sandberg and Sosa and Frank Thomas, more than Rice, a guy Boston Red Sox fans continue to adore.

Who adores Luis Gonzalez? Anybody?

Not for the Hall of Fame, no, dummy, no one does.

Steve Finley has more hits than Gonzalez. Is anyone likely to vote for Finley a few years from now? Not many, if any.

So when those of us who cast ballots are asked to weigh every factor—total hits vs. average vs. power vs. fielding vs. durability vs. character—you can see how we might become discombobulated at times, trying to sort it all out.

You didn't do that. You cited their hit totals. You said nothing of average, power, fielding, durability, or character. Nothing. You talked about hits.

Bert Blyleven is not a Hall of Famer. That is a fact as well as an opinion. I have friends and colleagues who all but crusade for Blyleven's candidacy, year after year, citing his very impressive shutout and strikeout counts.

Yet I cannot bring myself to deem Blyleven any better or more worthy than Jim Kaat, Tommy John, Jack Morris and so many others who have failed to gain admission to the Hall. I can't find the discrepancy in their careers.

I just can't bring myself to do this again. Look at Blyleven's best ERA+ and WHIP seasons, his Ks, his shutout totals, his 15 seasons of 200+ Ks (Morris had 3), his postseason record, whatever you want. Then consider that if the teams he played for, or their bullpens, were just very slightly better, like 1% better, he would have won 300 games instead of 287 and no one would ever for one second consider not voting for him. Do you realize that? If he had won 300 games, he would have been a first-ballot guy. People would have said, "300 wins, 5th all-time in Ks, 13th in innings, awesome postseason pitcher -- he's a lock!" Instead, he has 287 wins and people fall all over themselves telling you why he is not in any way a HOFer. It's insane.

There are three kinds of professional baseball players: good, great and immortal. You need to be a good one simply to reach that level, no matter what kind of Mario Mendoza-like batting average you might have beside your name. Hundreds have been excellent, but how many have been truly legendary?

About 280 or so.

Gossage is the 61st pitcher to gain induction. He won 124 games. Clemens very well could be barred from the Hall because of performance-enhancing drug use that has not been proven. He has won 354 games.

Pay attention, people. A new low has been reached. A new god-damned all-time son of a bitching low, in the history of journalism. Not sports journalism -- journalism of any kind. This last paragraph is worse than the worst war reporting, the worst economic reporting, the worst paragraph from the worst article about the most inane party during the worst Hamptons season by the worst society reporter from the worst Hamptons-based magazine.

Mike Downey discussed Goose Gossage's HOF legitimacy by citing his win total.

Forget for the moment that wins are stupid for pitchers, because pitchers rely on at least 8 (and usually like 12-14) other people in order to be credited with a win. Also please forget for the moment that if a pitcher throws 5 innings and gives up 18 runs on 27 hits, but in those 5 innings his team scores 19 runs, he could get a win. Also, forget that a pitcher can come into a game in the seventh inning with a 3-run lead and the bases loaded, give up a triple that clears the bases, then get one out when his CF robs the next batter of a HR, then have his team score runs in the bottom of that inning and he gets credited with a win. Forget all of that and realize this:

Goose Gossage is a fucking relief pitcher.

He's a reliever.

Relievers don't usually gets wins.

Most people know this.

He's a reliever.

In the words of Jean-Paul Sartre: "Hell is -- other [sports journalists]."

Goose is an immortal but the Rocket is not? What kind of Hall of Fame is this going to be, anyhow? One that excludes the greats but includes the merely good?

1. Again, Gossage was a reliever, so his "immortality" has nothing to do with wins. (Although the fact that he had 124 wins is pretty incredible, when you think about it -- in fact, it probably serves to highlight how many innings the guy threw, and how good he was in those innings.)

2. The "Rocket" is quite cockfaceingly obviously one of the greatest pitchers of all time. The fact that he might not get in -- and of course you know this, you sniveling little muckraker -- has nothing to do with this win totals.

3. The Hall of Fame will include the very best players of all time who didn't cheat and/or lie about stuff.

See you in hell, Downey.

Labels: babe ruth, bert blyleven, craig biggio, goose gossage, hall of fame, harold baines, jean-paul sartre, lee smith, mike downey, roger clemens, roger maris

Thanks to reader Eli for tipping us off to this love letter disguised as a piece of sports journalism. Someone named Mike Downey thinks Cesar Izturis is the best thing since the Spontaneous Multiple Orgasm Machine. What, that hasn't been invented yet? Well, then Izturis must be the best thing ever. Pun headline me, Downey:

Maddux-for-Izturis gives team that glovin' feeling

Thank you. Please continue.

In one of the Cubs' smartest maneuvers of this century, they have found themselves a player who could be a fixture in Wrigley Field's infield for the next five to 10 years.

Um, dude? You've already lost me. You're talking about Cesar Izturis. Little fella. Runs about 5'9", 189. Career OPS+ of 69 (OPS of .634). That guy. Maybe there's been a misunderstanding.

Izturis is a beauty, a gem. Stick him next to third baseman Aramis Ramirez and leave him there daily for the rest of this year. You won't be sorry.

Will I be sorry if he OBPs .302, like he has so far this season with the Dodgers? Or could I possibly regret it if he matches his OBP from last year ... let's see, let me look it up ... also .302? I've neglected to mention, of course, that his Gemminess Factor (GF) is 1.92 x 10^7.

Ronny Cedeno can study him from the dugout or switch to second base. Whatever. A shortstop like this does not come along every day.

Yeah, you probably should bench one of your promising young players to let this black hole suck up at bats. Stunt his development a little, that'll get morale up.

If only the Cubs had had a guy like this at shortstop in Game 6 of that 2003 National League Championship Series, they would have gone on to the World Series that year. Izturis would have vacuumed up that double-play ball that Alex Gonzalez booted and you would have never heard of Steve Bartman or a word about that bloody foul ball ever again.

Well, sure. Alex S. Gonzalez was/is terrible. You know what his career OPS+ is? 79. (A reminder: Izturis Career OPS+: 69).

Some of us believed the Cubs would be lucky to land a far-off future prospect or two while setting Maddux free. So the acquisition of Izturis comes as a pleasant surprise. No, more than pleasant ... a truly delightful surprise.

But enough with the suspense. Do you like the deal or not?

If this kid stays healthy—I know, I know, don't even go there—then the Cubs have acquired a genuine star in the making from the republic of Venezuela's apparently inexhaustible assembly line of shortstops.

So far we've got "genuine star," "delightful surprise," "a gem," and "a beauty." Is this a baseball article or my second grade teacher Miss Nash's weekly progress report on me? (I was very, very good at the second grade. Fucking killed subtraction.)

This makes up for Nomar Garciaparra being let go, for Rafael Furcal getting away because his price was obscenely high. Both those guys can hit with more power than Izturis, but neither can field a lick when compared with him.

Blah blah blah fielding metrics still in their infancy blah blah blah but still:

Rafael Furcal, 2005 FRAR (adjusted for season): 41
Cesar Izturis, 2005 FRAR (season-adjusted, this is the last year Izturis played short): 22

A year ago or so, Izturis looked like the best shortstop in the National League, period.

His batting average through June 1 was .348. He led all of Major League Baseball in hits at that point. He stood second in the All-Star vote only to Garciaparra, who was in Chicago nursing yet another injury and accumulating votes strictly because of his name recognition.

Izturis tapered off after that.

I don't know, maybe because he's just not that good? In his six-year career, Izturis has never:
OBPed above .330
SLGed abbove .381
or hit more than 4(!) home runs in a season.

Then, the master stroke:

A couple of weeks ago, Dodgers manager Grady Little said of Izturis, "Even on nights when he doesn't get any hits, it's like he's driving in runs with his glove. That means as much to us as a guy hitting .350."

Even on nights when he doesn't get any hits (nights which are quite numerous), it's like he's driving in runs with his glove. Except he's not. He's failing to drive in runs at the plate, which is the only place you can actually drive in runs in the non-fictional game of baseball. Unless Izturis is Ozzie Smith in the field, which he is not, he's nothing more than a serviceable major league baseball player.

I just love this Grady Little quote. I can't stop reading it over and over again. "Driving in runs with his glove" means as much as a guy hitting .350. I'm sure Nomar, a guy who was actually hitting near .350 before he got hurt (okay, .327), would be ecstatic to hear that. Can we start arbitrarily saying guys are great "glove RBI"-men now? It could lead to amazing conversations like:

"Man, did you see that RDI that Torii Hunter gloved in the other day?"

"I know, what is that, like his 57th RDIGM (run driven in, glove method) on the year? What a genuinely, delightfully beautiful gemmy star he is!"

And now, Mike Downey, take us home:

Trust me, this kid is going to put the "field" in Wrigley Field.

Oof.

Labels: cesar izturis, mike downey