FJM has gone dark for the foreseeable future. Sorry folks. We may post once in a while, but it's pretty much over.
You can still e-mail dak,Ken Tremendous,Junior,Matthew Murbles, or Coach.
It's been several days since America's Favorite Little Scamp singlehandedly beat the Tigers for the World Series title, not only going 23-22 (he tripled twice in a single at-bat in Game Two) with sixteen doubles, but also throwing three consecutive no-hitters in Games 3-5, despite staying at the stadium late every night to help the concessions crew clean up the grandstands and tutoring his little brother in pre-calc.
In case any of you are wondering, we here at FJM do not hate David Eckstein. What we hate is bad sports journalism, and there has been a lot of it recently. Apparently, nothing brings out the cliche machines faster than a small man who plays sports.
David Eckstein started the World Series 0-11. Did anyone hear anything about how bad Eck was in the clutch? No. No one heard that. If Alex Rodriguez had an 0-11 slump in three playoff games, the hand-wringing and typewriter pounding would have been deafening. How do I know this? Because ARod did do that, and that did happen.
The point is, ARod is a large human, who makes a lot of money. Eck is a small human, who makes less money. Their career performances during the regular season and during the playoffs indicate beyond a shadow of a fraction of a smidgeon of a blorgtion of a flernson of a doubt that Alex Rodriguez is the better player by like eleven standard deviations. And yet: no one writes anything good about ARod these days, and everyone writes good things about Eckstein.
Does no one in the world remember the 2000 ALCS, when ARod was 9-22 with 2HR and put up this line: .409/.480/.773? Does anyone realize that in the last 2 series Eck played in before the NLCS he put up a scrappy little 6-35 with 6 singles? Does anyone care?
Well, we do. Because people love to attack big rich guys, and love to praise small little scrappy guys, no matter what the actual facts of their performances tell us. To wit, here's a quote from former Eckstein coach Joe Maddon, from yet another paean to a little man's big heart. Read the last sentence of the quote like seven times in a row, and try to figure out how this is possible.
"I've always said David was the smartest guy on the field every night, and that included both coaching staffs," Maddon said Friday. "And I've never seen the guy have a bad day. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you."
I don't trust that you all read that seven times in a row, so:
Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you. Even if he goes 0-for-4 and makes three errors, he helps you.
No. No he does not. He does not help you. He hurts you. Anyone who does this in a game hurts you, no matter whether he is 5'7" 165, or 6'4" 230.
I'm sure David Eckstein is an awesome dude. I actually do admire his ability to hang in a league where everyone is bigger than he is. I get the human interest angle. I get it. I really do. Nice work, Eck.
The baseball season is over, now, and although we have a Hot Stove to look forward to, we here at FJM always lament the final days of October, because it's just not as much fun to post dumb things that Michael Irvin says about the Packers, or make jokes about Barry Melrose's mullet. So, we'll keep posting whenever we can, but as a final WS/Eckstein round-up, and to celebrate the end of a great year, here are my favorite responses to the Eckstein Height and Weight Contest. Thanks to all of you who wrote in -- more than 500 of you -- and thanks for being the snarkiest and most consistently amusing reader base a bunch of nerds could ever ask for.
Again, the questions:
1. How tall is David Eckstein? 2. How much does he weigh?
Joe:
1. How tall is David Eckstein? Nelson De La Rosa plus two inches.
2. How much does he weigh? Trick question, David Eckstein does not weight anything. He is composed completely of toughness and grittiness and those have zero weight.
Bob K:
All I *know* for sure is that he plays like he's 7'8" and 425 lbs.
Jeff:
170 cm, 75kg! metric! boo-yeah! i have nothing better to do!
Alex:
Weight: As big as a 15 year old high school chess club president with the arm strength of the president's 9-year-old sister, but the minute you begin to doubt him, you're already out.
Height: Shorter than a pesky annoying toddler, but as soon as you look at Eckstein as an easy out he somehow makes contact with the ball and uses his peskiness to get the centerfielder to trip on wet grass, letting the ball land for a double.
Now, if you'll excuse me I need to get back to my math homework, whereby I calculate everything using only measurements of heart and soul combined with a little hustle. I have an F so far in the class, but that's because the teacher is a geek who thinks numbers are important.
He was only 3'8'' and weighed 49 lbs when he was drafted by the Red Sox, but through grit, hustle, heart, scrappiness, and white-man blue-collar work ethic, he outhustled and outgrinded his genetic code and grew to the height of 5'7'' and the weight of 165 lbs. Sadly, no amount of grit and hustle could undo his terrible skin condition.
D K:
Height: Why the fuck does it matter? The bastard's got GRIT IN HIS FUCKING DNA. Weight: Who fucking cares? He's the toughest player I've ever seen in uniform. THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS.
Jeff:
1. How tall is David Eckstein? Scraptastic!!!
2. How much does he weigh? Translucent!
John:
1. 6'5" 2. 270
I may be confusing him with Frank Thomas. But how many World Series MVPs does the Big Hurt have? Exactly.
Anthony:
David Eckstein's height is: Clutch His weight is: Hustle
Evan:
How tall is Eckstein? As tall as his heart is invaluable to the success of all teams everywhere. How much does he weigh? He’s too feisty to get onto a scale.
Joe:
His hustle is 11 feet tall, and his heart weighs 2,461 lbs.
Also, this year his GORP (Grit over replacement player) was an astounding 193.8!
Avinash:
1. Doesn't matter 2. Doesn't matter
When you want to know the size of his heart, then we'll talk.
Reggie Willits is having an excellent year. He's absolutely slaughtering his 90th percentile PECOTA projections at the rookie age of 26. It is largely fair to say that his .439 OBP, and not Chone Figgins's .356, is what's making the Angels tick lately.
He is also under six feet tall and white. And he plays for the Angels.
Reggie Willits is flattered by the many and obvious comparisons to David Eckstein, another leadoff hitter whose hustle and heart outweigh his small stature.
Allow me to blanket this entire post -- as well as Helene Elliott's excerpted article, just because I'm generous -- with a Small Sample Size alert. Reggie Willits has had 243 ML at-bats in 91 games. All of his stats are suspect in terms of their predictive powers...especially considering how much better he is doing than those pesky PECOTA computers predicted. However.
I am going to be as nice as I can to David Eckstein by cherry-picking his season high totals in a number of different categories.
Again, small sample blah blah blah, and also he's never played a full season so we have to extend outwards which is always risky, but here are Willits's seasonal averages, with his career numbers stretched out over 162 games. This includes the like 45 AB he has last year over 28 random games, which drag down his overall numbers:
BA: .329 OBP: .434 SLG: .387 BB: 84 2B: 21 HR: 0
Willits is on pace to be far better than that in several categories this year, including 2B and BB. And thus, SLG. To put it another way, Eck's career EqA is .262, or ever-so-slightly above league average. Willits's this year is .326. Willits is on pace for a 7.4 WARP3. Eck's career high was 7.1 -- and Eck was a SS! (Willits plays mostly LF and CF.)
Oh -- and Willits is 18-2 in SB/CS this year.
It's early, but at this moment, it is insulting to compare Willits to Eckstein. (Insulting to Willits, I mean.)
"That's a pretty big compliment. I definitely don't think I am where he's at yet," Willits said of Eckstein, a catalyst in the Angels' 2002 World Series championship and the most valuable player in the St. Louis Cardinals' title run last season.
"He's proven it over several years, and he's done a great job."
He has done a league-average job.
Willits is aggressive on the basepaths, where he has 18 steals and has been caught twice. There are no statistics to measure how often he has pressured an outfielder into making a throwing error or how often he has prolonged an offensive flurry with patience at the plate and sheer grit.
All right! Now we're getting Ecksteiny. "No statistics..." "patience..." "sheer grit...". Makes my heart sing.
I must ask again: why are no minority players ever called "throwbacks" or praised for their "grit" and "hustle" and "old-school"-ness? It is one of the oddest things. No Dominican players, no Afro-Am players, not even the odd Curacaoian. The closest you ever get is Chone Figgins, but I think that's just SoCal reporters missing Eckstein so much they have to lob their "hustle" grenades somewhere, and Figgins isn't that tall, and he's fast...
"Fans are certainly drawn to players for different reasons, and I think it's obvious why they're drawn to Reggie Willits, as they're drawn to David Eckstein or Adam Kennedy," Scioscia said. "I think there's a blue-collar element. He's very well perceived….
Weird ellipsis belongs to Elliott, BTW. Incorrect word choice belongs to Scioscia.
Also: Willits. Eckstein. Kennedy. What do these three have in common? I'm surprised he didn't throw Gary DiSarcina in there for the hell of it.
The Angels just might keep him, even though he's not a second helping of David Eckstein and not the power hitter the other Reggie was. He's Reggie Willits, and that has been more than enough to excite everyone who sees him.
They should be thrilled he's not a second helping of Eckstein. That means he might become a better-than-average baseball player.
Well, there is this article, which ascribes the qualities of big-time heart and hustle to a "minority" (who was born in Hollywood, no less). Interesting is that, in the world of against-the-odds sports journalism, being white might just be the equivalent of having a club foot.
And a mea culpa from me to reader Chris (and all you other Chone Figgins fans) for blasé-ing Figgy's contributions recently. He has been mashing since he came back, with a June OPS over 1.000 and a positively Willitsian .464 OBP.
For the record, I like Chose Figgins a lot. Why then did I denigrate him? To quote Dr. Johnson: "Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance."
Punter. Sweet, so would I: Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow That I shall say good night till it be morrow.
A player on your favorite baseball team is leaving today. What would you say about him if you knew the following: in 2003, your team signed this player to a four-year, $32 million deal, and he rewarded you with seasons of the following EqAs:
.241 .276 .259 .219
I sense your ire rising. But wait -- what would you say if I told you his games played totals looked like this for those four years:
67 125 153 32
Easy, there. Don't go kicking a homeless person just yet. One more thing: this guy punted footballs in college. Now whaddya say?
"He's almost the last real gamer we have," Angels bench coach Ron Roenicke said.
Ah, Ersty, you old dog. People love you, don't they? No matter what you do on the field, the love affair never truly ends. You had one remarkable year -- one! -- and that's the one they still talk about. The Angels lost another link to their 2002 World Series team and a big chunk of their heart and soul Tuesday when Darin Erstad agreed to terms on a one-year contract with the Chicago White Sox that includes an option for 2008.
Big, big chunk. It's sad, really. Look for the Angels to completely tank 2007. I'm thinking four, five wins tops. All because they didn't want to resign their heart and soul. The deal, which is pending a physical this week, ends an 11-year Angels career marked by highlight-reel defensive plays, a spectacular 2000 season, several years of injury and frustration, and an endless reservoir of grit and determination.
Endless Reservoir, the new David Lynch film, will tackle the issues of identity, reality, and the human memory in his inimitable visual style. I'm becoming convinced that at the L.A. Times they must post a giant sign over everyone's computer that says "WAX MORE POETIC." This guy makes Bill Plaschke's articles read like economics textbooks.
Also: try to visualize an endless reservoir of grit. Does that phrase really work, Times Staff Writer Mike DiGiovanna?
Over the last four years, Darin Erstad has played 86 fewer games than heartless, soulless, gritless, undetermined J.D. Drew, who has never watched or heard of American football. During that span of time, he earned $3.3 million more than Drew. No one likes J.D. Drew.
"I don't mean the other guys aren't gamers, but Darin is the old-school type, like David Eckstein and Adam Kennedy.
You don't say. He's like Eckstein. And Kennedy. Gamers. Not like fucking lazy-ass Chone Figgins, always jogging to first like some sixty-year-old Jewish woman.
Hmmm, "old-school," you say. I wonder what kinds of players played baseball in the olden times? I mean, seriously. What did they look like? I want to know.
He's probably the biggest gamer I've been around as a coach. He really doesn't play for personal success. He plays to win the game."
I think it's pretty clear he hasn't played for personal success in a long time. Last season he managed to clog up at bats in 40 games with a sweet .605 OPS. But that's a personal number. He doesn't play for that. "Even when he wasn't healthy, he was still valuable because of his presence," Roenicke said of Erstad. "He doesn't say much, but everyone watches him and sees how he plays and acts. I guess you could find someone to replace that part of the team … but I doubt it."
This is the power of personality and perception in sports. With virtually any other guy, you get hurt as much as Erstad did and play as poorly as Erstad did with that fat contract and you get absolutely crucified. You're stealing money from the club! You've got no heart! You're a bum!
But with the Punter, guys'll bend over backwards to say good things. Hey, he wasn't playing well, but he wasn't healthy -- and he's a leader in the clubhouse. Well, no, no he didn't really say much, but he didn't need to. He just lived the part. He was just there. Living. Breathing. Looking tough. Having stubble. Dirty hat-ting it. Smelling like sweat, like only a football player could.
I guess we could find someone to replace his smell ... but I doubt it.
Okay, I lied. It's pretty terrible. It is, after all, Steve Phillips we're talking about here.
Let me ask you something. If you click on a link that says "Steve Phillips: Best tools in the game" and then you see a headline that says "Identifying those with the best tools in the game" and then you read a first sentence that says "Baseball is built on five tools: hitting for average, hitting for power, throwing, fielding and running," don't you expect to read an article about, I don't know, the guys who have the best tools in the game?
You might, but you would be wrong to expect such a thing, because you have entered the Steve Phillips Zone, where the rules of logic have no meaning and a man can say he's going to write about one thing but then just give up midway through the first paragraph and ramble on about whatever he feels like. A better name for this article would be "An Arbitrary List of Things I Think About Eighteen Players, Groups of Players, or Managers." Plus, to wrap everything up, there's a sixth category -- chemistry -- on the guys who have a sixth sense for creating it.
Perfect.
Let me interrupt Steve by pointing out that he himself has identified what are traditionally considered the five tools. They are, in his own words:
hitting for average hitting for power throwing fielding running
Before we even read the article, let's skim the subheadings and see what he lists as tools:
Sticks Muscle Arms Gloves Wheels Chemistry
"Sticks" -- okay, that's hitting for average. "Muscle" -- power. "Arms" -- that means throwing guys out, like Andruw Jones, right? No. This is where Steve Phillips lists pitchers. Because a five-tool guy is a guy who can hit for average, hit for power, field his position, run fast, and pitch a no-hitter, all in the same game. I think Barry Bonds did this once in 1987.
Basically, by the second sentence of the article, Phillips acknowledges he's just going to Larry-King-in-USA-Today this thing and wing it:
Here's a look at the players whose skills, or lack thereof, in each area could make or break their teams.
Here's a look at players who may be good or may be bad at things and thus may confer good or bad results on their teams, depending on if they're good or bad at the things.
This is what Phillips has to say about Adam Dunn:
If he focused on contact, he could hit 50 homers and drive in 150.
This seems like sort of a tall order. Albert Pujols, the awesomest hitter in baseball, has never hit 50 homers or driven in 150 runs, ever. All Dunn has to do is focus on contact for a historically great season? Jesus, get on that, Adam.
Dunn has 12 sacrifice flies in five full seasons; Justin Morneau had 11 last year.
This is a common criticism of Dunn, but I'm not so sure it's that big a deal. This guy notes that in 2003 and 2004, Dunn fucked up some sac fly opportunities because with a runner on third and less than two outs, 50% of his fly balls went for home runs. Whoops!
Here's what Phillips thinks about Tigers pitchers:
Tigers pitchers
A lasting memory from the 2006 Series is of Tigers pitchers throwing wildly to first and third bases. As isolated incidents, the errors aren't a big deal. In the Series they were huge, like Tony Romo's dropping the snap in the NFL playoffs. We'll know the Tigers are over it only when the pitchers make several plays after an error.
Does he really think the entire Tiger pitching staff is going to turn into a bunch of Knoblauchs because of last year's Series? These are the words of a crazy person. CHEMISTRY
Bob Wickman, RHP, Braves
Because they sit in the bullpen and work one inning at a time, it's not often that closers are team leaders. But there are many things about Wickie that his teammates admire. He cares more than most, he knows more than most and he makes sense when he speaks. Plus, he has overachieved with mediocre stuff.
This guy is a leader because "he makes sense when he speaks." He can walk without falling down. He eats food instead of rocks. He wears clothes instead of refrigerators. He is a chemist. Eric Chavez, 3B, A's
Last season, forearm problems sapped Chavez's strength and power. Many players would have opted out of the lineup to protect their stats, but Chavez knew the team needed his D, leadership and whatever offense he could provide. The A's made the playoffs by taking on the personality of their gritty and determined third baseman.
He gritted Frank Thomas to a 41.3 VORP and he gritted Nick Swisher to a .372 OBP. Glue guy. Grit guy. Glue grit. If he were in a band, it would be called Motley Glue. If he were a seminal 1941 John Crowe Ransom essay, he would be called "The New Griticism."
Anyway, there you go. A list of the guys with the best tools in baseball.
Here's one. Her name is Gwen Knapp, and I'm guessing she had a deadline, and had nothing to write about, and Googled "Yankees+cliches+team chemistry+true yankee" and cribbed a bunch of other crap to write this:
(starts with a perfectly good analysis of the injuries that have hit the Yankees this season. Then...)
Other teams go through this stuff all the time, piecing together lineups. The A's swear by spare parts. But vulnerability doesn't suit the Yankees, and as a team, they look shockingly fragile.
On Saturday night, they managed to beat the A's 4-3 in 13 innings after losing the night before in 11, partly because Rasner didn't unravel when Derek Jeter and Robinson Cano each committed an error behind him in the first two innings. In the end, the Yankees had four errors and won primarily because of the rookie and the bullpen, the one element of their team that remains overwhelming.
Well, I wouldn't say "overwhelming." Rivera still lurks out in the bullpen like an invincible Panamanian Destructicon, but Farnsworth is a mess, and if you think Myers, Henn, and Bruney are going to stay this good for the whole year you've got another thing coming. (They do have Vizcaino, who was a great addition [9.92 K/game last year] and Bruney looks decent to me, but in the 13th last night he threw a fastball to Bobby Crosby that was so meaty and straight and thigh-high I swear I saw Crosby's eyes actually like toy-train-headlight-style light up before he jumped too early and fouled out to left.)
Anyway, if you ask me, the one element of their team that remains overwhelming would be their offense. It seems to me that Damon-Jeter-Abreu-ARod-Giambi-Posada-Cano is a pretty good 1-7. I know, I know. I'm crazy.
The scouting reports issued appropriate warnings, but seeing them up close, inning by inning, brings home how reduced they are. The reputedly thin pitching staff is actually emaciated, much like the bench, and the lineup has a greater intimidation factor on paper than in reality.
Well, I know it's early, but in "reality" they have scored the second most runs in baseball so far.
Perhaps watching the Yankees wither in October so often the last few years has stripped away an aura, and the talent hasn't changed that radically. Or maybe it's merely the fact that Hideki Matsui resides on the disabled list. But something is clearly missing from this team.
They're probably a little less intimidating without Sheffield. And Matsui will be back. But isn't what's missing...their pitchers? Mussina/Pavano/Wang/no Clemens? I mean, those people are actually physically missing. No? It's not that? Then what could it possibly be?
Oh. Oh God. No. Please don't...you can't mean...please no dear Jesus...are you going to talk about...?
One of the New York beat writers pointed out that the 2000 team had a relatively underwhelming lineup, and visions of Scott Brosius at third and Ricky Ledee in left came rushing back. Glenallen Hill and Jose Canseco spent time on the roster, too. Of course, that team had Roger Clemens, plus El Duque and the first pinstriped incarnation of Andy Pettitte, on the pitching staff. And in the end, it had a World Series trophy, too.
What is she getting at, you might ask?
She's talking about aura, people. Aura. Mystique. That indefinible je ne sais quoi de sinistre that the magical underachieving Yankees of 1996-2000 had in spades. Think about the improbable run of that team. They were made up entirely of career minor leaguers, rag-tag humps, 42 year-old semi-retired recovering-alcoholic player-coaches, a pretty-boy third baseman (Corbin Bernsen), a young, raw base-stealing phenom with a batting glove obsession, a placekicking horse, Kathy Ireland, that weird quiet kid Jimmy who swore he would never play basketball again, and a simple Iowa farmer who ploughed his field because Ray Liotta/his own dead dad/he himself talked to him in a funny way, and they were all coached by Emilio Estevez. And somehow, someway, they overcame extraordinary odds, came together, and using nothing more than guile, team chemistry, mystique, aura, and togetherness, won four World Series in four of the biggest upsets in the history of professional sports!
(In 2000, by far the worst year in that run, they also had Pettitte, Clemens, El Duque, and 145 IP from Nelson and Rivera at like a 200 ERA+. And Jeter and Bernie, and a catcher who walked 107 times. And a reserve outfielder, David Justice, who in 78 games hit 20 HR and went .305/.391/.585.)
The payroll became more menacing after that, but the trophy has not returned. As the Yankees stocked up on Randy Johnson, Kevin Brown, Jason Giambi, Johnny Damon, Gary Sheffield, et al., they became less potent.
Incorrect. They became far more potent.
In 2000 they won 87 games and got to the WS from a very weak AL East. They scored 871 runs, allowed 814 .
In 2002, the first year with Giambi, they went 103-58. They scored 897 runs, allowed 697.
In 2003, they went 101-61. They scored 877 runs, allowed 716.
In 2004, the first year with Sheffield/ARod, they went 101-61 again, scored 897 runs, allowed 808.
In 2005, 95-67. Scored 886 runs, allowed 789.
In 2006, first year with Damon: 97-65. Scored 930 runs, allowed 767.
So. To sum up. More "potent" pretty much every year since 2000. Just haven't won the WS, due mostly to thinner pitching, better competition, and bad luck (esp. 2001, 2004).
The core of their roster when they won four of five World Series from 1996 to 2000 was homegrown. Derek Jeter, Bernie Williams, Mariano Rivera, Jorge Posada and Pettitte all came through the farm system. They didn't have to adapt when they put on pinstripes. They were born to them.
Is there an emoticon for: I Am Barfing? Here, I'll make it up:
;>>>>>>>>>>>>>*&^*&%*&^%&*(^%*(&^%.
The 2001 Diamondbacks, the 1997 Marlins, the 2004 Red Sox...so many examples of teams with few homegrown players. Who cares? It's nice. But it's not necessary.
And this overblown "to the manor born" shit about the Yankees has got to stop. It's fucking ridiculous. They weren't "born" to anything. They were drafted by the Yankees and weren't traded. They were good players because they would have been good players for any team. Derek Jeter was the fucking 6th overall pick in the draft. He was not a scrub who suddenly put on a Yankee uniform and became Superman. Pinstripes do not add Special Powers.
Giambi and Damon, a pair of colorful, irrepressible characters, each shed part of himself to become a Yankee. The transformation went beyond frequent visits to the barber. They are still vital, important players, but they aren't linchpins the way they were in Oakland and Boston. They can't be.
Damon OPS+ 2005 (BOS): 113. (35 2B, 10 HR.)
Damon OPS+ 2006 (NYY): 120. (35 2B, 24 HR.)
Jason Gambi's OPS+ in the four full years he's been a Yankee: 171, 156, 151, 154.
To be fair to Gwen Knapp, Baseball-Reference.com does not keep track of the players' Lynchpin Indexes. But I bet she's right -- they are probably far lower now, maybe as far down as the low 65.00's or maybe even 64.00's...what's that? There is no Lynchpin Index? And the idea of applying the concept of "lynchpin" to a baseball player is confusing and meaningless when evaluating the team's overall performance? Okay. Sorry.
Alex Rodriguez is another story.
Fasten your seatbelts, people. You knew it was coming, didn't you?
The Yankees exiled Alfonso Soriano, a homegrown star, to get him, and he was tagged a soft pretender last year, not a true Yankee.
Gwen Knapp, how do I ridicule you? Let me count the ways.
1. Alphonso Soriano is not a "homegrown" player. He signed with the Yankees as one of those foreign-free-agent deals in 1998.
2. AlSo has a career 114 OPS+. (And $136 million from the Cubs. What idiots.) ARod has a career 146 OPS+. They were both middle infielders. ARod was, and is, one of the very best players in all of baseball. He is going to retire with 900 HR and probably 3-4 MVPs. When they traded for him he was about to his the very sweet-sport prime of his brilliant, Hall of Fame career. (AlSo was also lying about his age before he was traded.) Are you seriously suggesting that trading Soriano for ARod was a bad move?
3. Anyone who signs a contract with the New York Yankees or any of its affiliate minor league teams and receives a check for services rendered from said team is a "true" Yankee.
4. If you read that sentence again: 'The Yankees exiled Alfonso Soriano, a homegrown star, to get him, and he was tagged a soft pretender last year, not a true Yankee" you will note that "he was tagged" is a bit of a confusing, dangling modifier type deal, since one could conclude that the antecedent of "he" is Soriano. I would suggest this rewrite:
"In a stunningly brilliant coup by GM Brian Cashman, the Yankees traded Alfonso Soriano, an overrated star,and a bunch of other garbage, and landed a sure Hall of Famer in Alex Rodriguez. But some Yankee fans did not take to Rodriguez right away, because their brains are stupid, and Rodriguez was soon tagged "not a true Yankee," which is a four-word piece of gibberish used exclusively by asshole-morons."
See how that just flows better?
But he is staggeringly talented, and his powerful start this spring suggests a grit that, if it flourishes, could make the Yankees more intriguing than they've been in a long time.
They are just as intriguing this year as they ever are. They win 97-103 games and make the playoffs. And what was ARod's grit index in 2005, when, and I am going to do one of these newfangled typeface explosions here:
HE WON THE MVP AWARD. IN 2005. ALEX RODRIGUEZ WON THE 2005 A.L. MVP AWARD FOR BEING THE BEST BASEBALL PLAYER IN THE LEAGUE.
(Side-note: In the time it has taken me to write this, Darin Erstad has struck out twice, and is now hitting .189 with a .532 OPS.)
When the Yankees lost the bidding for Dice-K last winter, the Boston victory called to mind New England's gloom four years ago, when the Yankees snared another pitcher from the international market, Jose Contreras. That did nothing for New York. The following year, A-Rod veered away from Fenway at the last minute and ended up in the Bronx -- another giant transaction that didn't look so big on the field.
Except in 2005, when he won the A.L. MVP Award. Although to be fair, he has never won the...what's it called? Shoot. I forgot. What's that award called that is given to the player who is even better than the player who gets the MVP award? Oh wait -- that's right -- there fucking isn't one.
Now, they're reduced, scraping by, and not terribly scary. That's the best route to a fairy-tale ending.
But he is staggeringly talented, and his powerful start this spring suggests a grit that, if it flourishes, could make the Yankees more intriguing than they've been in a long time.
"Suggests a grit" that "flourishes"? That is a weird way to talk about grit. I imagine flourishing grit is sort of the same process you use to bloom yeast -- put the grit in some water, let the grit do its thing.
At the end of the season, when they announce the awards – or even before then, when they’re just discussing it -- can we remind you how you explained here that winning MVP = best player in the league?
Nicely done. Got a little excited in my criticism, and our loyal readers call my shit to the table.
The fact remains, however, that although the MVP award is frequently not given to the actual best player in the league. (See Vaughn, Mo.) However, it is rarely given to a bad player.
Usually we don't cover blogs, because everyone knows they're written by clinically obese, pimply-faced, wheelchair-bound agoraphobics with Oedipus complexes. Or Mike Pagliarulo. But I'm making an exception for Lowell Cohn, who writes! professionally! for something called the Santa Rosa Press Democrat, and who apparently is award! winning! as the blog description tells us:
Cohn vs. Cohn
It's a battle of the generations. Wizened, award-winning Press Democrat Sports Columnist Lowell Cohn squares off every Friday with his wise-guy, college-age son Iggy in a no-holds-barred debate on the sports topics of the day.
Here's the thing: you sort of want Iggy to come in and kick his 80-year-old dad's ass, right? Use your native Internet skills and limited attention span to show him who's boss, Iggy!
No such luck. For we see in this post that Iggy and his dad agree on one very important thing about baseball: there are men -- legends, really -- who are gamers. These are the men who Win Ballgames with their hustle and their grit and their filthy, muddy, dirty, bloody uniforms and the sheer willpower of their gamey, grindy hearts.
Gamers
This is a combo effort from Iggy and Lowell. What is a gamer in baseball? And who is a gamer?
Iggy, really? How could you? I feel betrayed. You were one of us, Iggy. I've lost all hope for the future. In a world full of Iggys, how can we begin to make progress?
We began thinking about this because the Giants have a clever ad campaign about gamers, and we decided a gamer is someone who does whatever he can to win -
Get on base, drive up the pitcher's pitch count, hit for power --
stealing home,
Stealing home?! Iggy. Jesus. Iggy. How far down the list is fucking stealing home when it comes to the skills you need to win a damn baseball game? How often has a steal of home won a game compared to, I don't know, a single to left?
Iggy, get off Facebook for once in your life and go read one of your fancy "websites" about baseball. You like "surfing the web," don't you Iggy?
making a diving catch, taking out the second baseman, hitting the clutch homer, always playing hard.
Hitting a home run, apparently, is only gameriffic if you do it in the bottom of the ninth. All other homers are for selfish stat-padding jerks and actually hurt your team. I know this is true because I read it in the Bible.
A gamer doesn't care about his stats.
A gamer will OBP .235 if it'll help the team (and it will)!
He never takes a game off for a phony reason.
Like trying to be in top shape for the postseason!
He gets his uniform dirty.
And not with tacos or fried chicken, like a non-gamer might (wink wink!). A gamer gets his uniform dirty the old-fashioned, American way -- with dirt and a dirt gun that fires dirt at your uniform.
We've made a list of seven gamers and a list of seven non-gamers of guys currently playing. We're calling the Gamer List, the Cal Ripken List - for obvious reasons.
(white) (the previous parenthetical may seem unfair, but just keep reading)
He was the ultimate gamer. He always played - you couldn't pry him out of the lineup. And he was a great fielder and hitter, one of the all-time great shortstops.
This is where Iggy and Pop fall down. You don't have to be good to be a gamer. In fact, it's better to not be good. Gaming isn't about hitting or fielding or baseball, it's about what's inside your body. Like your heart, or if your blood is susceptible to sickle-cell anemia.
He's the guy who changed the template for shortstops from swift little guys to big men with power.
Again, get this straight: swift little guys are the true gamers. Gaming 101, gentlemen. Power ruins baseball.
He was A-Rod before there was A-Rod.
And that's a good thing? Good Christ: A-Rod is everything that is bad about baseball, don't you know that? You're writing an article about gamers, not guys who look like they're wearing make-up while they break the all-time home run record and move over to third base even though they're on the way to becoming the greatest shortstop of all time to accommodate (spoiler alert) the #1 gamer on your list.
We're calling the Non-Gamer List the Barry Bonds List, for equally obvious reasons.
He's the greatest player of all time?
He was a great player but he was not a gamer.
Uh huh. Right. He never, ever helped his team win games.
He came to the plate so many times last year when he could have helped the Giants by hitting a ball to left field. Remember that crazy defensive shift teams used that exposed the left side of the infield and left field. Did Bonds ever once hit a ball to left? Get serious. He was a permanent resident of Jack City.
He was 43 years old and he OPS+ed 170. You're angry that he didn't hit enough balls to fucking left field? He got on base 48% of the time. For that alone you should have been cool with him sitting in a lawn chair in left field, facing away from the batter and playing a vintage Sega Game Gear.
And yes, he was a permanent resident of Jack City. He is the holder of the record for most home runs hit ever ever ever. If this makes you not a gamer, God help your team of gamers.
He wanted to hit home runs to make history.
What a monster! He should have hit some balls to left field to get his team to 72 or 73 wins instead of 71. Then we would always remember 2007 as the year Barry Bonds gamered, through sheer force of his gaminess, his team to a 73-89 finish. Instant Classic -- the entire 2007 Giants season.
He cared nothing about the team. He cared only about himself.
Iggy knows a lot about Barry Bonds' psyche. Even if this were 100% true -- did he help the team or not? Keep in mind a) he was the only regular on the Giants who OBPed over .344 and b) he led the major leagues in OBP. By 35 points.
THE CAL RIPKEN GAMER LIST:
Derek Jeter:
Original choice.
He is the essence of a gamer. No one else is like him.
I think Jeter's fragrance should have been called Essence of Gamer. That or Eau de Can't Go Left.
He is a great player, a sure Hall of Famer, and every day he plays like he's a rookie trying to make the club. He is a throw-back to another era. And he is the one who makes the play that wins the game.
I give you credit for calling Jeter, a guy who is not completely white, a throwback player.
Remember in 2001 in Game 3 of the division series against the A's --
No one, and I mean, no one, remembers this game. Who could remember such an obscure game? Please, lay the details on me --
when he ran across the field and backed up a throw from right field, a throw the first baseman missed, and he threw home and the catcher tagged out Jeremy Giambi who would have tied the game but he forgot to slide - a non-gamer. Jeter's was the ultimate gamer play.
Oh. Oh my God. You're right. I didn't know that about Derek Jeter. Since he did make that one play once, he must be awarded the Gamer of the Century Award posthaste.
(Derek Jeter has played in 123 postseason games. Think about that the next time someone brings up how many big moments he's had. 123.)
Now it gets crazy:
Mark Ellis: He is a gamer and he's what they used to call a hard-nosed ballplayer. He hangs in on the double-play pivot and he gets big hits and nothing bothers him, ever. He is the best player on the A's because of ability but mostly because of attitude.
Look, Cohn father and son, maybe it's time you get out of the blogging business. It's rough out there. There's a lot of competition. And you, as they say, are making no sense. How is Mark Ellis more hard-nosed or better attituded than Asdrubal Cabrera or Brandon Phillips or Kaz Matsui or Miguel Cairo or Mike Fontenot or Trey Willinshamerson, the second baseman on my high school team? He hangs in on the double play? How many major leaguers are constantly bailing on double play balls?
Mark Ellis is a good player who has many mediocre teammates. Can we agree there's nothing magical about him?
Aaron Rowand
This is going to be a long post.
The Giants hope to mold all their up-and-coming players in his gamer mold. He famously dove face first into a chain-link fence to catch a deep fly ball when he played for the Phillies.
I scorched my face in a Belgian wafflemaker this morning. Pressed it real good. Can I have $60 million please? Thank you. Torii Hunter - A better fielder than Rowand, Hunter is famous for catching potential home run balls. He's a hustle player who brings energy to his team and makes his teammates play better.
You want to put that statement up for scrutiny in a court of law? This isn't basketball, where I'll buy that Magic Johnson or Steve Nash or Chris Paul make their teammates better (at least on offense, for a couple of those guys). How many more doubles does Torii Hunter make Jeff Mathis hit this year? Seven? Twenty? A hundred? You tell me.
Although he isn't a great hitter, the Angels gave him a 5-year $90 million contract this off season, which shows how highly people value his gamer contributions to a ballclub.
Whoops!
Nick Swisher - He does whatever he can to help the team win. He's a switch hitter and he can play several positions. His teammates love him, which is a must for any gamer candidate.
So now we have, gamer qualification-wise:
Play to win Big plays Hard-nosed Good attitude Hang in on double play Hurt yourself Catch balls Make your teammates better Multiple positions Switch hitter You make people smile
Here's my new theory: literally anything you do can make you a gamer. You like Neapolitan ice cream? Gamer. You play the harpsichord? Gaming it. Civil War reenactment buff? Game on.
Eric Byrnes - He makes diving catches in the outfield, always sells out his body. He always hustles on the base paths, and he'll more than likely be an analyst on ESPN when he retires, for whatever that's worth. Gamer.
ESPN analyst? Gamer. Troy Tulowitzki - A great fielder, plus he has power and above-average size for a shortstop. He draws favorable comparisons to Cal Ripken Jr. - the highest compliment.
Read that again. Nothing in there has anything to do with the traditional definition of a gamer. This is just a description of a good baseball player. Great in the field, he hits well, he's big.
For the last time -- smaller is gamier. Do I have to refer you to the "david eckstein" tag on this very site? Bone up, Iggy.
THE BARRY BONDS NON-GAMER LIST:
Barry Zito: He never wins a big game. He always has an excuse. He always wilts under pressure.
He just sucks, okay? It's not that he's not trying. He's not good. He hasn't been good for a pretty long time. You want to make a list of players who suck? We can do that. It would make a lot more sense.
Maybe it's unfair to call him a non-gamer. Maybe he's just not good enough.
Thank you.
Manny Ramirez - An awful fielder, and he frequently doesn't run out fly balls. The other day against the A's, Manny stood and watched a long fly he hit to center field as if he expected it to be a home run -- not a gamer thing to do. It got caught.
So...it didn't matter. Let's also ignore the fact that Manny is known for absolutely killing himself to prepare for games, training-wise. Take some lessons from Mark Ellis, Manuel.
Eric Chavez - Clearly it was a mistake for the A's to sign Chavez instead of Miguel Tejada. Chavez is always hurt, and when he's in the game, he has a new batting stance every week - none of the stances work. Plus, he never has come through for the A's in the postseason, hitting a career .222 in October.
Seems like a dick move to pick on a guy who just can't get healthy. Wouldn't Chavy have been an example of a guy who would have been a quintessential gamer in 2004? Team leader, seems like a good guy, pretty great player? Now, since his back muscles don't work, all of a sudden he's an asshole? If Chavez is reading this, he's gotta be like, Come on, father and son bloggers, I just had like seventeen epidurals. You think I'm trying to suck out there?
Right, I'm trying new batting stances every week. That's apparently incorrect. The guy most famous for doing that is the captain of your Gamer Team and an American hero. I think he fought in Afghanistan.
Carlos Beltran - The Mets gave him $119 million to be the player they would build their team around. He's been unreliable, frequently missing time to injury and playing poorly in the playoffs. The Mets have shifted their focus to third baseman David Wright - an up-and-coming gamer.
This is just inexplicable. Carlos Beltran, on the whole, has been brilliant in the playoffs, with an overall OPS of 1.302 and a slugging percentage of .817! He hit 3 home runs in the 2006 NLCS for the Mets. Do Lowell Cohn and son remember the 2004 playoffs, when for 12 games Carlos Beltran hit like he was using Mjolnir for a bat? He hit 8 home runs in 46 at bats! This is the choker you're complaining about?
Also, games played as a Met: 151, 140, 144. Not perfect, but he's not exactly Rich Harden, either. The last two years Carlos Beltran has been super-valuable for both his offense and his defense. Andruw Jones - He doesn't play center field as well as he used to, and he's a lock to strike out 100 times a season. He hit 51 home runs three years ago, and people started calling him the best center fielder in baseball. But last year, he hit only 26 dingers while batting a measly .222.
This is turning into a list of guys who used to be good but then declined. What in the name of Carlos Beltran's Mjolnir-bat is the point here? He strikes out and he's fat, so he's not a gamer? Tulowitzki is big, so he is a gamer?
I'm going to start writing exclusively in bewildered rhetorical questions. Pedro Martinez - He's been hurt for the last 2 seasons, and who knows how long he'll be out now with a pulled hamstring. He's always been a controversial player, throwing at players' heads and fighting with old man Don Zimmer. Now that he isn't a dominant a pitcher, he's more of a distraction than he's worth. Gamers don't distract their teammates.
He's the most dominant pitcher of his era, and maybe ever. He's declining with age. What a lazy son of a bitch. Also, fighting another team's coach should be the number one characteristic of any gamer list worth its salt.
David Ortiz: This is a great hitter, a great clutch hitter. And he's a pleasure to watch. So why is he a non-gamer? Because he doesn't use a glove. He doesn't play a position. No designated hitter ever can be a gamer. Ortiz is the ultimate Half Gamer.
I like that Iggy and Lowell call David Ortiz "This." And they close with one final nugget of lunacy. David Ortiz -- the clutchiest, most beloved, winningest player in baseball in the 2000s -- is not a gamer.
White Half-white White White Black White White White
Non-gamers:
Bonds Zito Ramirez Chavez Beltran Jones Martinez Ortiz
Or:
Black White Latino Latino (Born in San Diego, but hey, a last name that ends in -ez!) Latino Afro-Caribbean (I think? Born in the Netherlands Antilles. Not white.) Latino Latino
Hmm. Also, shit, dogz. That non-gamer team, when they were healthy and not as old, would really have kicked the living tar out of the gamer team.
In FJM Heaven, every writer complains that high-OBP sluggers clog up the basepaths. In FJM Heaven, every article trumpets David Eckstein as an MVP candidate based on his grit, his heart, and the fact that he sleeps in a child's race car bed. In FJM Heaven, A-Rod is a worthless choker, wins matter more than WHIP, "it's not called the Hall of Very Good," and all bloggers live in their mothers' basements.
And in FJM Heaven, HatGuy writes about food for an entire column, every column.
No more candy cane lane? Say it ain't so, Joe! Yankees manager goes too far by banning goodies in the clubhouse
This is just a delight. I mean, I'm not even going to be an asshole for this one. Okay, maybe a little. If Braveheart
-- topical -- were playing for the Yankees in 2008 instead of the underdog Scottish Nationalists in 1305, he’d have climbed on a table in the Yankees clubhouse and delivered a line that would resonate through time: “You can take my life, but you can’t take my Reese's peanut butter cups!”
All of you readers who e-mail me to add the "food metaphors" label on every single post I write, this post is for you. You are legion, you are persistent, and I appreciate every e-mail.
HatGuy, Jesus...he's not even veiling his gustatory fascination with the aforementioned food metaphors anymore. This baseball column is just straight up about food. Think about that. Also, countdown until he mentions ice cream. 5...4...3... Alas, there is no William Wallace on the Yankees and no plans for Mel Gibson to play the brave rebel who leads the team against manager Joe Girardi, who has imposed a reign of health food on his team.
No Mel Gibson joke? You disappoint me, HatGuy. Hell, "sugar tits" even has a food in it. You definitely could have awkwardly shoehorned a dated, unfunny Gibson reference in there. Next time.
No candy in the clubhouse, Girardi has decreed. And no ice cream.
There it is. For the uninitiated, I refer you to what reader Zac once wrote us:
June 28, 2006, Mike Celizic writes "Sox Fans must boo Pedro heartily," and makes a choppy, hot fudge sundae/whipped cream joke:
"If anything else happens — the fans cheering wildly or the commentators congratulating them for booing boisterously or no one taking notice of the occasion at all...[I'd] be as disappointed as I’d be if I set out to construct a hot fudge sundae and discovered I was out of whipped cream."
July 7, 2006, Mike Celizic writes "Not Time for Yankees to Panic" and makes eerily similar whipped cream reference:
"It’s hard to make panic seem banal, but that’s what the Yankees have accomplished over the years... [blahblah] ...Panic should be saved for special occasions. For the Yankees, a day without panic is like a hot fudge sundae without whipped cream."
Yes, HatGuy -- we keep track of food metaphors and similes you made nearly two years ago. That is the kind of people we are. Food metaphor enthusiasts.
It’s not just at Yankee Stadium, either. By Girardi’s orders, stadiums the Yankees will visit this year have been asked not to provide M&Ms, Dove bars, or any other sweet succulence to his Yankees.
Forget FJM Heaven. This is HatGuy Heaven! The Yankees, food, sweet food, creamy food, chocolate, dessert, Yankee stadium, candy, ice cream, Dove bars (ice cream inside candy)! Instead, Girardi wants granola, nuts and dried fruits for his players to snack on. My guess is there won’t even be salt on the nuts.
d:(
(That's a HatGuy frowny-face.)
It makes you wonder why he doesn’t go all the way and ban apple pie and motherhood.
Because he wants his players not to eat junk food? Multi-million-dollar athletes whose bodies are finely-tuned machines designed to perform extraordinary physical tasks on an everyday basis? Yes, this man is Stalin because he doesn't want his players looking like this:
I understand his motivation — promoting healthy choices in all things. But no chocolate? No nougat and caramel? No Heath bars? Not even a roll of LifeSavers?
How many times do you think HatGuy stopped to eat something while writing this column? Fifteen? Twenty? I'm guessing he ate at least one of each and every food he mentions.
Girardi came to the Yankees with a reputation as something of an extremist, but this is ridiculous. We’re talking about grown men here. We’re talking about a freaking Reese's peanut butter cup.
Well, to be fair, you were the one who brought up the peanut butter cup.
It wasn’t that long ago — within the past 20 years — that baseball clubhouses were among the last refuges from a world that was becoming obsessed with inflicting “healthy” living on everyone — by law if necessary.
Yes, 'twas a fine time. The baseball men would laze about, drunk on molasses moonshine, cheeks puffed with tobacco crabgrass. No coloreds were allowed, and the only women were the Lace Tutu Girls, whose sole purpose was to light your cigar and freshen your martini -- toplessly, of course. Ah, 1988.
Once upon a time, players arriving for work could load up on free chewing and spit tobacco to get the nicotine that kept their engines running.
People say a lot of things about baseball. But one thing I think just doesn't get enough play is that it doesn't have enough mouth cancer.
Next to the tobacco was a rack of gum and candy. Coffee urns dispensed a brew so strong you felt you could slice it and eat it in a sandwich.
Food...metaphor? No. Yes. No, wait. No. Brain twisting...screw it, I'm adding the "food metaphors" label and the "liberal use of 'food metaphors' label" label. You happy, "food metaphors" label crazies? You're welcome.
Out of sight from the public but no less readily available were amphetamines — “greenies” — for those who needed to kick-start their games.
So you're pro-greenies? What? I'm lost.
When their work was done, the tired heroes foraged through a postgame buffet that included at least three items from the all-important grease food group. Coolers harbored all manner of soda pop and enough beer in the players’ favorite brands — Free and Free Lite — to get a fraternity house through rush week.
Yeah. That's partly why I bet a team of modern players would kick these lard-assy gentlemanly layabouts' asses. Just a guess.
Except Wade Boggs. Dude would drink 70 beers on a cross-country flight and still go 3 for 5.
It wasn’t something that the American Heart Association (or your mom) was going to endorse, but when you threw in the magazine collection — heavy on hunting, cars and women who had forgotten to bring their clothing to their photo shoots – it wasn’t surprising that ballplayers liked to get to the park early and stay later than absolutely necessary. Clubhouse life was as good as it got.
HatGuy's new rallying cry: Bring back Car & Driver & Porn & Guns magazine!
And then the health police started getting involved.
I think HatGuy is confused. You can still eat all of these things. Relax. Breathe deeply. Look in your pantry. They're still there. All of them: the Three Musketeers, the Butterfingers, the Snickers, the Milky Way Darks. Now look in your freezer. See the ice cream? Yep, it's still there. Hey, here's an idea: what if you crumbled up some of those candy bars on top of the ice cream? That's good, isn't it?
Now isn't that more fun than writing a column about there being no chocolate in the Yankees' clubhouse? Aw, he fell asleep. The little HatGuy's all tuckered out. Isn't that cute?
The first thing to go was free tobacco for reasons that should be obvious. Then teams started to get more healthy choices in the buffets. In some clubhouses the beer also disappeared.
There were good reasons for all of the decisions. Tobacco can kill you, and so can excesses of grease.
Or chocolate. Or -- gasp -- hot fudge sundaes with whipped cream. It's all fun and games when you're just making metaphors about sundaes, but when those metaphors become reality, it's your arteries that pay.
And if a player were to get drunk in the clubhouse and then get in an accident, the team could face heavy liability.
It’s not as if modern ballplayers are Babe Ruth wannabes who train on hot dogs, beer, cigars and babes. (Well, maybe the babes, but not the other things.) These guys work out year-round and many have nutritionists and trainers at their beck and call.
So they probably don't care that much about not scarfing down Turtles for three hours straight before the game.
Sure, you’ve got your C.C. Sabathias carrying on the weighty tradition of David Wells and other noted gourmands, but for the most part, these guys are as healthy and fit as anyone could ever want to be.
So is it that modern players are all so in shape that it doesn't matter if they eat junk in the clubhouse or that it was more fun back in the old days when all guys did was eat junk in the clubhouse?
Also, not really sure how fit Joba Chamberlain is. Maybe he's like the Kingpin and it's all solid muscle.
A Dove bar or a bag of M&Ms is not going to hurt them, and it just might make them feel better — and therefore perform better.
Oh, I get it. It's neither. It's that Chocolate Makes People Better At Things! You think the chocolate lobby has gotten to HatGuy? Look, we've all been tempted by the money Big Chocolate throws at us, but I've always thought of HatGuy has an incorruptible lone kook-type.
Chocolate can, in fact, be very good for you. Dark chocolate is full of anti-oxidants and contains a chemical that elevates your mood.
Yarrrgggh!!! Corporate synergy -- they wrote chocolate into the storyline!
Right here is probably where HatGuy sticks in some hard scientific evidence proving that chocolate improves your WARP3 -- This is well-known at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where Harry Potter and his posse frequently were ordered to eat lots of chocolate to help them heal after a busy day battling Dementors.
Best part of an already unbelievable gold mine (of gold chocolate coins) of an article.
Chocolate isn’t junk food.
WE GET IT.
Some would argue it’s the best food nature ever contributed to our diet, a food loaded with anti-oxidants and imbued with a mood-elevating substance called theobromine, from which comes cacao’s scientific name — theobroma, the “food of the gods.” Was ever any product of nature more aptly named?
Holy f-ing s. He's really lost it, hasn't he? I'm worried. I'm honestly, no-kidding, 100% worried about Michael Celizic's mental state. Call me, Mike. Well, no. Don't do that. Just write an article about A-Rod faking his injury so he can avoid those high-pressure May at bats so I know everything's all right.
And now, just for the fun of it, I will now list each and every food (including repeats) or other consumptible (I made that word up to mean something you put in your body in a food-like manner) found in the column:
candy cane Reese's peanut butter cups candy ice cream M&Ms Dove bars granola nuts dried fruits salt nuts apple pie chocolate nougat caramel Heath bars LifeSavers candy bar Reese's peanut butter cup chewing and spit tobacco gum candy coffee sandwich greenies buffet grease soda pop beer tobacco beer grease hot dogs beer amino acids vitamins ginseng Dove bar bag of M&Ms chocolate dark chocolate chocolate chocolate best food nature ever contributed to our diet cacao "food of the gods"
It sneaks up on you sometimes. One day you're the heart and soul of a team. People can't praise your intangibles enough. Your grit. Your heart. Your leadership. You're white, you sort of suck at getting on base, you make a lot of serious faces on the field. All the ingredients are there.
Then one day you wake up and you're no longer a grinder -- and Joel Sherman is writing articles about your team with headlines like this:
SHAKE IT UP METS WOULD GET MUCH-NEEDED JOLT FROM ROWAND AND ECKSTEIN
Hey, Paul Lo Duca just walked in. I'm going to let him type a little bit. Hold on --
Rowand? Eckstein? What about me, Paulie Bignuts?! I'm the Jolt cola on this team! I'm the hard-working stubbly lunch pailer! What happened to all those articles about how when Glassesface DePodesta traded me away the Dodgers lost their soul? I AM TEAM CHEMISTRY.
I am a pending free agent -- why isn't this article all about resigning me? Randolph is now enlisted for next year and the Mets should work to build a team that works for him. Here's what Hardball would strongly consider:
1. MORE PASSION
Fuck me! (It's still Paulie here.) I just hit Open Apple-F in Firefox and searched for "Lo Duca." I'm not even mentioned in the article! Va fangoule, Joel Sherman! That's-a spicy-a meatball-a! In general, I dismiss the emotional/chemistry stuff. Usually onlookers see what they want based on results (David Wells is a real-guy gamer when he succeeds and an out-of-shape dirtbag when he loses). But by the end of the disappointing season, Randolph and many of his key veterans were acknowledging a core that lacked urgency and ardor. There was too much privilege among this group, as if it were Duke waiting for its NCAA tourney invite rather than earning its way in.
Okay, Junior here. I've wrested the keyboard away from Lo Dukes. It's covered in marinara sauce. Sherman, seriously, it's hard to have it both ways here. How can you say "I dismiss the emotional/chemistry stuff" and then advocate signing a no-hit, no-field, aging Eckstein with your next breath?
Now the Mets lost because they had no "ardor"? Jesus Christ, man. What do you think ardor legitimately cost them? Two games? Three?
Lo Duca wants me to type that he's still extremely ardorous. Okay. Okay. I did it. Stop hitting me with your chicken parm sub.
There is a term in baseball, grinder, to describe those who bring it every day and treat each at-bat like a mini holy war.
What the Mets need is an Osama bin Laden-type in the two-hole. You know who was a phenomenal grinder? Abu Musab al-Zarqawi. Too bad he was killed by a a laser-guided GBU-12 and GPS-guided GBU-38. Thanks a lot, troops!
The Mets need a whole lot fewer whiners and lawyers who sap the energy/togetherness in their clubhouse, and more grinders, especially because Randolph is so non-confrontational even with his worst offenders.
Tell me, please, which of these Metropolitans qualify as whiner-lawyers:
David Wright Jose Reyes Luis Castillo Carlos Delgado Moises Alou Carlos Beltran Shawn Green Paul Lo Duca Tom Glavine Pedro Martinez John Maine Orlando Hernandez Billy Wagner
You get the point. Actually, no. Let me spell it out for you. If the Mets win two more games, this is the exact same group of guys we're saying has incredible chemistry, whose unbreakable camaraderie bonded them together as the Phillies made their run, whose kinship and brotherhood and passion for the game carried them through tough times and led them to the playoffs. Am I wrong?
Look, the Diamondbacks are a club that believes in statistical analysis, yet recently gave Eric Byrnes a three-year, $30 million extension in recognition of what his daily zeal does for the group.
I'm really unclear on how much of that 30 million Josh Byrnes earmarked for daily zeal. Was it a 5 million zeal bonus? I think it was 2.5 million for the hair, 3.5 for falling down every time you throw the ball. So the Mets should look seriously at free agents Aaron Rowand to play center field and David Eckstein to play second base, and/or see if they could pry someone such as the Angels' jack-in-the-box Chone Figgins to be their jack-of-all-trades.
Okay, Aaron Rowand had a great year last year. Career year. WARP3 of 9.6. Here are his WARP3s from the last three years: 3.3 (missed some games), 6.0, 6.8. If you're the Mets, don't you already have a guy playing center field? A Carlos somebody? Who had a mild down year to the tune of 9.5 WARP? Who has posted WARP3s of 11.9, 5.6, and 9.9 recently?
By signing Rowand, the Mets would rob the NL East champ Phillies of a big piece. Putting Carlos Beltran in right field might diminish his leg injuries.
Maybe Sherman knows more about Beltran's injuries than I do, but it seems like a pretty big waste to play a good defensive center fielder in right in order to sign an inferior center fielder. With Eckstein, you must believe he could play second, that his body is not deteriorating fast at 32, and that he would accept a one- or two-year deal. If you buy all of that, Eckstein's peskiness and seriousness about winning would enliven the Mets.
Exactly like, say, Luis Castillo, a guy who was supposed to be pesky and winning-y and grinderish and who was already on the Mets this year? Castillo has 17 points of career OBP on Eck and he's faster, too. And he already plays second base.
Joel Sherman says the Mets need passion. Let's go through some of those 2007 Mets again.
David Wright Great character guy. MVP-type. Leader. Incredibly mature for his age. Works hard, plays hard. Passionate. Smiles.
Jose Reyes Fiery. Sparkplug. Catalyst. MVP-type talent. The future. Puts pressure on pitchers. Passionate.
Luis Castillo Veteran. Pesky. Bat control guy. Comes from Twins' winning system. Passionate. Smallballer.
Carlos Delgado Veteran. Knows how to win. Former MVP-type. Subject of innumerable Gammo articles praising his leadership and the way he mentors Beltran. Passionate.
Moises Alou Veteran. Pisses on hands.
Carlos Beltran Veteran. Uber-talent. Solid clubhouse presence.
Shawn Green Jew.
Paul Lo Duca Veteran. Heart, soul, heartsoul, leader, heartleader, guides pitching staff. Passionate. Hates to lose. Co-wrote this post. White.
Pedro Martinez Once threatened to drill Babe Ruth, a dead man, in the ass. Passionate.
Really, you see a bad, passionless apple in this suitcase full of apples?
Ah, fuck it. Just sign Eckstein and win the World Series. Do it.
Me: the mild-mannered Pension Fund Monitor for Fremulon Insurance, based in Partridge, KS, who copies dumb articles about baseball and adds snarky comments.
You: the kind of article that was written a thousand times after David Eckstein won the World Series MVP Award, which contained lots of references to how scrappy and gritty he is, ignoring fully his not-very-good-at-baseball-ness.
Where have you been, baby? I've missed you. But all is forgiven, now that Eck is a free agent, and these articles are beginning to reëmerge. Come back to me. I promise, I'll be gentle. I'll only reprint the key words, justlikeIusedto. What do you say?
Thinking -- and acting -- outside the box provide some of the fire the team lacked last season shortstop for two World Series champion teams in the last six seasons Willie Randolph, an admirer of Eckstein's spunk, MVP of the Cardinals' 2006 World Series champion team overcome a modest arm to play regularly or almost regularly Because of injuries Despite the games missed Eckstein is widely recognized as one of baseball's foremost gamers. source of the grit and resolve their team lacked last season Eckstein would provide some of the fire Paul Lo Duca provided in his two seasons Eckstein is thought to be seeking a four-year contract worth $36 million his defense deteriorated last season Eckstein played fewer innings, 943 2/3, in 2007 than in any other season and committed a career-high 20 errors a master of the contentious at-bat
For the record, in re: being a "master of the contentious at bat," Eckstein's 3.64 pitches per plate appearance would have ranked him #123 among MLB players in that category last year. I say "would have," because he was injured so much he didn't have enough AB to qualify. In 2006, his 3.75 was good for 95th.
Also, for the record, if I were Willie Randolph, I would not like to be referred to, in print, as an "admirer of Eckstein's spunk."
The article also has this:
Playing for an offensively-challenged team -- the Cardinals scored 725 runs, the sixth fewest in the National League -- Eckstein scored 51 runs and drove in 38.
Which is delightful, in that it does not allow for the fact that the Cards were offensively challenged in part because of Eckstein's presence.
In the airport waiting for our flight to MO. Thinking about the Chicago White Sox' woes this season. Impatient hitters, injuries, bad starting pitching, aging veterans. You know what they need? Some grit.
St. Louis Cardinals free agent-to-be David Eckstein is becoming target No. 1 on the Sox' offseason wish list. He would give them a leadoff hitter with a career .349 on-base percentage and a sure-handed shortstop.
The White Sox are single-handedly trying to prove as true everything that I, and people like me, believe. If they sign Eckstein next year, all things being equal, they will be the worst-GMed team in history.
By the way, reader Mike directed me to this article via an AOL FanHouse blog discussion, located here. For a good time, read the comments below the post. Two rings in five years!!!!!!
Jimbo directs us to an MLB.com article about potential ROY. Here's what they say about Reggie Willits:
OF Reggie Willits, Angels: The Halos were floundering, unable to get over the loss of Juan Rivera to a Winter League mishap, until Willits became a regular and a regular thorn in the sides of opponents. With bat control to wear out pitchers, speed to unnerve defenses and a daredevil attitude on defense, he has become, at its most basic, the _________ of this Angels team.
Now, keeping in mind that Willits is small, white, "pesky," "full of grit" and "hustle" and plays for the Angels, guess to whom the comparison is made. Is it...
A. Alex Rodriguez B. Three-Finger Brown C. David Eckstein D. Darin Erstad
If you answered C...
...you're wrong.
They compared him to Erstad.
The comparison to Eckstein is not very apt, in that Willits is much faster and gets on base more. But Erstad?
Actually, I suppose the .338 SLG Willits has laid down this year actually makes him more like Erstad than a lot of other people.
Baseball is a contact sport with shortstop Ryan Theriot.
The 28-year-old Cub, coming off his first full season in the majors, seldom strikes out (50 in 537 at-bats). That makes him an ideal No. 2 hitter,but he's versatile enough to lead off, having batted .300 in that role last season.
What is so hard about identifying the thing that makes a good lead-off hitter? OBP, man. OBP. That's it, really. That's the #1 thing. Speed is great. Speed is definitely #2. But if you're Juan Pierre, and you're super speedy, but you make more outs than anyone else in the entire game of baseball, you are not an ideal lead-off man. (As now several different teams have realized.) You may be an occasionally awesome lead-off man, when you bunt for a hit and steal second and move to third on a 4-3 and come home on a sac fly. But the 500 times you pop up, ground out, or are easily thrown out trying to bunt your way on make you an unideal lead-off man.
(#3 most important quality is guts, followed by grit, then fearlessness at #5, then IsoP.)
High-energy, low-key ... that describes Theriot, who carried the Cubs in July with a .348 average. His ability to manufacture runs endears him to manager Lou Piniella, who understands the importance of speed when the winds are blowing in at Wrigley Field.
I am going to do a Michael Moore kind of documentary where I talk about how the run manufacturing plant in my hometown was shut down, and all of these hard-working run manufacturers have been put out of work, and I'm going to take a camera crew and march into Billy Beane's office and demand to know why instituting his newfangled cost-saving measures means that the run manufacturing plant had to get shut down, putting all these salt of the earth run manufacturers out on the street. And he'll say, "There is no such thing as a 'run manufacturing plant.' And the phrase 'manufacture runs' is meaningless." Then we'll both turn to the camera and stare at it for like 45 excruciating minutes without moving. Then the screen will flash a giant bleeding skull for 1/8th of a second. Then men in hazmat suits will storm the theater and spray people down with an iridescent gas, while you hear a robotic voice yell "DISPERSE. DISPERSE." It will be like a cross between "Roger and Me" and "The Joke."
Also, while "High-energy, low-key" may be perfectly good ways to describe Ryan Theriot, I would also suggest describing him as "owning a 72 OPS+ last year" and "a guy who hit .266/.326/.346 in his first full season" and "a guy who could only manage .271/.355/.337 in his entire minor league career" and thus "probably not an ideal top-of-the-order guy."
"With more speed we could have scored four or five runs in our last game in Chicago," he said, referring to the final loss to Arizona in last year's playoff.
With more hits you could have won too. Or with better pitching. And P.S., after losing the first two games, you were down 2-0 in game 3 before anyone could blink. (And after a lead-off walk to Soriano in the bottom of the first, Mr. Ideal #2 Hitter here went 4-6-3. [Yes, it's a small sample size. He started it.])
Power is the missing link in Theriot's hitting approach. His .266 report card was spruced up with just three home runs. So pencil him in as a table-setter.
Make sure the eraser is in good shape, though, because a guy with a .326 OBP will be setting fewer tables than a guy who hates setting tables at a table-setting convention. Ohhhhhhhhhh! What a burn!
"It's what I've always done," Theriot says. "My numbers aren't going to jump out at you."
Your .326 OBP jumped out at me, faster than an awesome jumping frog hopped up on jumping beans on a trampoline at a frog-jumping convention. Noooo he didn't!!!!!!!
Shortstops who lack power are vulnerable. Knowing that, Theriot must be wary of infield predators.
"You have to keep that sense of urgency about you," he says. "There's always somebody behind you, trying to take away your job."
His competition will come from Ron Cedeno, a talented athlete who was a bust in 2007 but helped the Aragua Tigres win their second straight Venezuelan Winter League title with 11 RBI in the playoffs.
Ronny Cedeno is 25 and has a career .329 OBP in the minor leagues (and a .277 in his limited MLB time). He ain't taking anybody's anything away from anyone.*
If Theriot can hang on he would be the fifth different shortstop starting on opening day for the Cubs since 2004. Alex Gonzalez, Nomar Garciaparra, Cedeno and Cesar Itzuris preceded him.
* As reader Jeffrey points out, Cedeno did make a huge leap in OBP (and other things) when he went from AA to AAA in 2005. But whether he's the guy who tore up the PCL or the guy who did a lot of sub-.300 OBPing in A-ball remains to be seen.
And then Dan adds something we thought we remembered but were too lazy to look up:
Just so you know, everyone tears up the PCL. It's by far the best hitting environment in the minor leagues. Bubba Crosby hit .361/.410/.635 while there in 2003. If he can hit there, anyone can.
FJM is a site dedicated to the debunking of poor sports journalism and analysis, using strict statistical analysis and common sense. Except when it comes to Derek Jeter, when we suddenly reverse course and get upset that he did not help ARod out in the media and thus should not have been MVP. (He should have been MVP. Relax. We're kind of kidding.) (Kind of.)
However, we are also not above non-baseball-related ad hominem attacks on David Eckstein. He's got the heart of a champion. He can handle it.
Loyal reader Ludicrous Pat files this report on a little guy we all know and love, and his recent appearance on the NBC Non-Event Game Show Non-Extravaganza "1 Vs. 100":
The question was, "What word is repeated the most in "Row your boat"
a) Row
b) Boat
c) Merrily
Merrily with 4 beats Row with 3 and Boat with 1, but even though almost everyone got it right, Mr. Eckstein, the -- as the show proclaimed -- "World Series MVP," got it wrong.
But he got it wrong with grit and hustle.
That last line will be on Eck's gravestone. When he dies hustling to the dinner buffet at his retirement home at the age of 180.
Here are some words and phrases that appear in that article:
Gritty Little 5-feet-7 Grit 165 pounds Determination Overlooked Overlook Grinding Clutch Toughest [I've ever seen in uniform] Banged up Knocked around Beaten down "...he did fall into a 1-for-20 slump running from Game 5 in the NLCS through Game 3 of the World Series -- but he has come roaring back." Suicide squeeze artist "isn't known for his muscle" Darin Erstad Grinds out every at-bat "ain't the biggest guy" "or the strongest" Makes things happen "He fights you tooth and nail" "People talk about him not having enough arm" "People talk about him not having enough range" "People talk about him not having enough size" "That's what's most impressive."
Hundreds of good guesses as to Joe's mysterious phone call (see post below if you are getting here late). Many suggested the caller was some combination of Billy Beane, Michael Lewis, or "the computer that wrote 'Moneyball.'" Other guesses ranged from Phil Mickelson to Osama Bin Laden. Here are a few of my favorites.
Joe was on the phone with his financial adviser. He didn't care about the amount of money in his account, he just wanted to know if his money was "hustling" or "gritty" and if it could hit to the right side with a man on second.
--tomservo
Joe Morgan was making a trade in his intangibles fantasy league. He was getting rid of Alex Rodriguez for Bernie Williams. What a steal for Joe, since Bernie has won four championships.
--Jake
[Thoughtjunkie had a similar idea: Joe got wrapped up in making a trade for his Intangible Fantasy Baseball League...He came THIS close to unloading A-Rod (Hustle:5, Grit: 1, PlaysGameRightWay: 2) and Garciapara (4,3,3) for David Eckstein (9,8,11)]
Here's a nice thought from Ryan:
I think Joe was just "phoning in" his next Sunday night broadcast.
And Brian had a particularly harsh rebuke...of Mike Celizic:
HatGuy called and Joe abruptly hung up. Even Joe hates his crap.
Ouch.
Joe’s not really sure who the phone call came from. It could have been his mother. It could have been his wife. It could have been his dog calling for more treats. The bottom line is that it’s all about execution. Joe answered the phone call promptly and courteously. And that’s what’s important. Tony Perez – who you might not know but was a teammate of Joe’s in Cincinnati - always used to answer phone calls efficiently. It didn’t show up in the boxscores, but there was no one better at answering phone calls than Tony Perez.
--Paul
It was Dave Concepcion on the phone. they were having an argument on who was the best double play combo to play the game. They ranked Morgan and Concepcion number one, followed by Concepcion and Morgan.
--Migue
I don’t think it was a phone call. Someone turned on an actual live baseball game on one or more of the TV screens in the room. Joe, rather than watch more than one game a week, had to be removed from the room and put on oxygen.
--Zach
Joe found his daughter, with only a flashlight and a copy of Moneyball, under the kitchen sink. And she was supposed to be practicing gymnastics.
--Adam
(That's my favorite of the "Moneyball"-related answers. It has a wonderful sense of optimism. It believes the children are our future.)
Here's a slightly less heartwarming notion, from Joseph:
Jeter called and told Joe he had 3 hours to get to New York and blow him.
Eminently plausible.
And finally, my personal favorite, from Matt:
I don't know who it was, I just wish he'd call during Sunday Night Baseball.
But we started this blog long after last year's ALCS. So here's a Labor Day Weekend Treat: Mike Celizic's commentary for MSNBC the day after Game 4. It's not statistically deficient, or boneheadedly anti-reason, or anything. It's just arrogant and full of dramatic irony. So, enjoy.
Dramatic win too little, too late for Red Sox
Game 4 heroics only delay inevitable Yankees' ALCS victory
COMMENTARY By Mike Celizic NBCSports.com contributor
Updated: 4:16 p.m. ET Oct. 18, 2004
So the Red Sox and the Yankees finally put on a game that can be considered – by those who were able to stay up to actually watch it – a classic. Too bad it won’t be enough to save this series.
It was nice of the Red Sox to show there was no quit in them, especially when, for three games, there hadn’t been any start in them, either. But when you lose the first three games of a series, history tells us it’s over, no matter how much grit you show in staving off the inevitable.
They saved their best for last, but all they proved is that what they do best is keep people awake way past their bedtimes.
If they had staged their wonderful comeback against Mariano Rivera and then struck in extra innings for the win in Game 2 or even Game 3, there’d be something to write about. But, no matter how exciting Game 4 was, the series is still 3-1 and the Red Sox pitching has proved itself to be even worse than what we thought Yankees pitching would be.
So the Red Sox have accomplished nothing other than to delay the inevitable and make their fans, who have already suffered for 85 years, suffer for yet another day or two.
Yet the Sox celebrated after David Ortiz went deep in the twelfth off Paul Quantrill as if they had just won the World Series, dancing and chanting and carrying on as if there were champagne waiting for them back in the clubhouse.
That’s probably why they are still in the position they are, which is as hopeless as that of a wounded lamb surrounded by wolves. The Red Sox approached this series as if beating the Yankees would be the most important thing they could ever accomplish in their lives.
The Yankees came in thinking that winning the World Series would be a nice conclusion to their season. Beating the Red Sox wasn’t a crusade, it was just another bit of business to be taken care of to get to where they wanted to go.
The Yankees don’t celebrate anything as enthusiastically as the Red Sox celebrated getting to a 3-1 deficit in a seven-game series. But then, these Yankees have never played so miserably for the first three games of a series. And the Yankees understand what deserves celebration.
You can’t blame the Red Sox for looking at a win that staved off the inevitable as their finest hour. After what happened to them in the first three games – and especially in that awful Game 3 massacre – they probably know they had better celebrate when they can, because the odds that they’ll lose are just slightly better than the odds that, come morning, the sun will rise to reveal that the Rocky Mountains are still standing.
So, rather than squander your time or mine on pondering what Boston’s too-little-too-late win means (It means we have to watch them at least one more day), it’s time to look at what we’ve learned about the Yankees in this series and what it means for the World Series, coming to a television near you this Saturday.
First among the discoveries is that Yankees pitching doesn’t stink nearly as badly as we thought it did two weeks ago. They’re better than a lot of us thought. Jon Lieber has gained strength and confidence. His last three outings have been masterful. Mike Mussina is capable of just blowing up, but he can also throw a gem – for five or six innings.
And against Boston, two decent pitchers have been plenty. Orlando Hernandez chipped in with a pretty good performance Sunday, which makes three guys who can get you to the best bullpen in the game.
And if the Yankees pitching still falters from time to time, their bats make up for it. A-Rod is finally the force he was supposed to be. Gary Sheffield is an RBI machine. Hideki Matsui is truly Godzilla. And Derek Jeter has yet to start hitting with his customary playoff consistency.
The Red Sox had to win Sunday night – or Monday morning, as it turned out. The Yankees didn’t. They just need to win one more, and it’s hard to see how the Red Sox can keep them from doing it. They’re not going to score off Mariano Rivera every night. And that’s what they have to do.
So nice try, Boston. Way to hang in there. For one game, you showed something. Too bad you waited so long to start playing the series.
