On the money

Jayson Stark unpacks the mysteries of collusion in his recent column. Didn't realize that MLB offered "recommendations" for suggested "salary ranges," but that certainly explains the spate of 2 yr/$6 million OF contracts in 2004. Great piece. So are the MLB elders the true villains here? No no, it's still Scott Boras who's still taking his cues from Dr. Doom and the Red Skull.

He Hate Me



Rick Morrissey of the Chicago Tribune said everything there is to say about agent Scott Boras: "He is a very, very bad man. Exquisitely bad, in a foreclose-on-the-farm sort of way." Bryan Miller, in a thinkpiece on Slate, offered a more even-tempered assessment of the agent in 2001: "Scott Boras is the Marvin Miller of his age—the man the owners claim they can't afford, but the players can't afford to live without." Either way you cut it, no one likes the guy -- owners and GMs hate him with a passion, fans treat him like a human pinata, and I doubt highly that any player who has reaped the benefits on Boras' predatory tactics is inviting him to their next Christmas party.

But shit, Boras gets results. Look at the A-Rod, Kevin Brown and Darren Dreifort contracts he engineered a few years ago. Woah. And then look at his cream-of-the-crop client list for this year's free agent class: Adrian Beltre, Carlos Beltran, Derek Lowe, Jason Varitek, Kevin Millwood, J.D. Drew and Magglio Ordonez. GMs and owners have already balked at his demands for Beltran (10 years, backloaded) and Jason Varitek, but those guys will get signed. Above market value. Because Scott Boras never loses. He's like Wile E. Coyote if the super-genius managed to get the better of the Road Runner and drop an anvil on his head every time.

Word out of Chicago is that White Sox GM Kenny Williams doesn't like the way negotiations with franchise cornerstone Magglio Ordonez have been going; Williams called a press conference to tell reporters that the White Sox "would not be signing any Scott Boras clients this year." Well, no shit, Sherlock -- isn't that why the Washington franchise pulled the trigger on deals with Christian Guzman and Vinny Castilla so quickly? No one wants to get stuck negotiating with Scott Boras as an act of desperation.

Still, what's going on here? Is this Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf's legendary cheapness rearing its head once again? The White Sox franchise has a nasty track-record of blackballing its highest-paid players as a way of keeping salaries at a manageable limit -- Big Frank Thomas got treated pretty badly in the midst of a prolonged slump and he just redeemed himself in the eyes of the fans last season. People were booing the guy at every at-bat because of Reinsdorf's carefully-orchestrated smear campaign. What Kenny Williams said should ring true in the hearts and minds of every baseball observer from the top of an organization to the fan sitting in the nosebleed section, sure.

But you don't owe it to anyone to tell them the truth unless you're sleeping with them -- Boras is a terrible bed-fellow of course, but imagine the whispers of collusion that might circulate if all teams took a stand against the Boras clients this year. Kenny Williams would be Exhibit A in that trial. So what you do is shut the fuck up and keep it behind the scenes. You don't need mommy and daddy to tell you that they're getting divorced after years of bitter arguments...you knew it all along.

Bump and grind

I'm pretty sure that I've already seen a movie or three about the Jayson Werth stalker case -- wife dumps high school sweetheart for guy who makes the big leagues, jilted lover blackmails the couple -- fifteen times. Seems like a cross between The Fan and Unforgettable and that one with Marky Mark carving Reese Witherspoon's name on his chest . Like, 4 eva. Not to make too much light of it -- the Werths seem like they just want to be left alone.

Here's an even more absurd story involving the wife of Gary Sheffield and R. Kelly and -- oh, what's that you say? -- a guy-on-girl-and-girl sex-video. I'm sorry. I just can't leave it alone. Tapes of Kelly making the beast with two backs with Sheffield's wife originated from Chicago, where community activist/ huckster Derrick Mosley attempted to give Sheff the shakedown for $20,000 in blackmail money. Here's the kicker: Sheffield's wife is 28. The tape is said to be at least 10 years old. R. Kelly has a predilection towards humping his proteges (Sheff's wife is a gospel singer), especially his underage ones. Bad timing for R. Kelly as it relates to his pending child pornography case, these days, it seems like he might as well take up permanent residence in a courthouse . I'm pretty sure I haven't seen this movie yet, but when art eventually decides to imitate life, it's going to be great.

Update: Is it a Yankee curse? Sheffield's stay in New York has been plagued with all sorts of difficulties . Read the article, it'll put hair on your chest.

Devil's Bargain/ Devil's Advocacy

Best part of checking in on the Hot Stove action for me has always been seeing who falls into disfavor/ is labeled as damaged goods/ lands in the Pittsburgh Pirates lap. And I suspect that it's the same way for everyone who still roots for the Pirates against the odds: the entire city of Pittsburgh practically got an erection when rumors of Travis Lee signing with the team surfaced last spring. Travis Lee, people. The worst part of it all isn't the whiskey dick sensation that goes along with watching a collection of rotten apples and turds thumb their collective noses at the Bucs, though.

No, it's seeing some variant on the "the team's gotta trade Jason Kendall in order to keep pace in today's market" cliche in every single off-season (and pre-season, and well, mid-season) report on the team's future. Because there's two things -- actually, four now that Torres and Mesa have been inked to deals -- that are absolutely certain about the Pirates next year. First, GM Dave Littlefield won't be increasing the payroll without an additional revenue stream; this team is almost at a point where adding a Troy Glaus would pay verifiable dividends, but nowhere near the bank-breaking bump it would take to wallow in mid-market mediocrity.

And more importantly, Jason Kendall isn't going anywhere this year. Dude's still owed $34 million/ 3 years on his contract and exactly one team (the Dodgers) are in the market for a catcher. The Bucs would get majorly rooked in any trade involving Kendall -- they'd have to fork over at least a 1/3 of the money owed over the length of the contract for any team to even listen to trade talks and probably a bit more to acquire anything beyond journeymen/AAA fodder. Say what you want about Littlefield, but he has too much pride in the organization to suffer the humiliation of letting Kendall go like that.

And I like Kendall. You like Kendall. Everyone likes Kendall. His OPS ranked fourth (behind Bay and the Wilsons) amongst team regulars and he's a marvel of consistency any way you slice-and-dice his stats (home vs. away, month by month). No more ink needs to be spilled on his offensive attributes; let's talk about his talent behind the plate. Here's Kendall measured against highly-regarded defensive types Ivan Rodriguez and Jorge Posada in some select fielding stats:

Kendall .991 FP/ 7.69 RF/ 1.000 ZR/ .363 CS%
Rodriguez .987 FP/ 7.04 RF/ .933 ZR/ .322 CS%
Posada .990 FP/ 7.25 RF/ 1.000 ZR/ .272 CS%

"FP" is Fielding Percentage (put-outs + assists divided by put-outs + assists + errors), a pretty solid statistical measurement of a player's defensive ability. "RF" is Range Factor (put-outs + assists divided by innings) and its fraternal twin "ZR" is Zone Rating, which measures how well a player performs in his "assigned" zone. "CS%" is the percentage of runners caught while attempting to steal. As you can see, Kendall's tops Rodriguez and Posada in all of these categories -- I haven't checked how he stacks up against the rest of the league's battery partners yet. But if the team ain't gonna dump any more money into the payroll and the mission of 2005 remains youth development, you want Kendall in there to make Kip Wells look good, guide Oliver Perez along the way and help to fix whatever's wrong with Ryan Vogelsong.

With apologies to the amazin' Jason Bay, Kendall's still the Pirates' best player. The contract hasn't gotten any less silly over the last three years, but I'd much rather have him on the team than the extra cash the Pirates would flush down the toilet trying to sign enough warm bodies to create a bargain-basement version of the Phillies.

Stonewalled

Long time readers (yeah, all four of you) know that I'd be the first guy to pull out a fiddle and dance a drunken jig if Wrigley Field burned to the ground, but news of veteran Cubs broadcaster Steve Stone's resignation at the end of October has still got me down. Steve Stone wasn't half bad as a player -- check out his amazing 25-7 season in 1980 for further reference. Note, as well, that it was enhanced by the four-man rotation Baltimore had in place during the season, but Stone was like the 70's equivalent of Woody Williams in his day.

I'm way too young to remember Stone as a player, though I can remember hearing the first game he called really well. It was in May 2004, before the players up and quit during the strike-shortened season. For my first trip to Wrigley, I tagged along with a guy who lived on the same floor of my dorm who just happened to be...Steve Stone's cousin. We sat underneath the broadcasting booth, within Budweiser-spilling distance of Harry Caray and Stone came out and greeted us during the 7th inning stretch. Quite an experience. The only other ballplayers I've ever that close were the 1995 Pirates (entire team) and this guy (also a relative of a friend), neither of which are anything to tell the future kids about.

I'm convinced that Steve Stone is one of the great unheralded geniuses of sports broadcasting and that time will unveil his 27-year run with the Cubs (with and without Caray) as deserving of Hall of fame consideration. Really, I apologize for the hyperbole -- the wounds are still raw -- but Stone got a raw deal. Apparently, Dusty Baker took issue with some of Stone's critical comments during a late-September game and that this year's team felt Stone wasn't really on their side.

The situation with the Cubs -- a team controlled by a monolithic media company, the parent organization of The Chicago Tribune -- is pretty complicated as it stands. The Chicago Sun-Times, despite its award-winning sports section, is engaged in a giant pissing contest with its competitor, and can't really be trusted to tell the truth about the Cubs. Stone was the guy I trusted to tell it to me straight -- he handled an ungainly, larger-than-life presence like Caray with ease and his commentaries were a perfect mix of erudition and regular-guy charm, unlike that obsequious boot-licker Chip Caray.

It's not a broadcaster's job to be a team booster when the team sucks. I had the opportunity to listen to all-time great Ernie Harwell call a late-summer Tigers game in his final season during an otherwise feverishly dull trip from Chicago to Pittsburgh. And it was great, no knocks on Harwell, but he was so good at masking his frustration with decades of sucky teams. The Cubs' freak pennant run in 2002 aside, Stone had the burden of witnessing the mishaps of a series of serially-underachieving teams. You have to bow to the party line to keep a job, though, and Stone ultimately realized this and drew his line in the sand. Stone's letter of resignation can be viewed in full here. The Trib didn't even have the guts to print it.

In case you're wondering, Chip Caray already left to take a job with the Braves and the booth remains open for next season and beyond. When asked if he'd be interested in assuming the mantle, Bob Costas politely demurred and said that he wouldn't be up to the challenge of -- get this -- "the greatest job in baseball." That, my friends, is the biggest lie in all of professional sports -- rivaled only by the idea that next year, any year, will hold more promise for the Cubs.

End of the line

A few days late and dollar short with the analysis of the World Series here at McClendon's Folly, but the truth is that I sort of lost interest after the drubbing St. Louis got in Game Two. Everything after the first game was, well, pretty dull. Manny Ramirez was one of the most boring MVPs in recent memory, too -- he hit for the highest average in the series (.429) but didn't do anything spectacular at the plate or on the field. Curt Schilling emerged as a hero after his airtight start, surgically-repaired ankle and all, but then he turned Judas and endorsed the wrong candidate.

From The Girlfriend: "The Wrigley Curse makes sense, because it involves a goat, and goats are evil. But Boston has a curse because they sold a player in 1918? That candy bar sucks, anyway." Sing it, sister. That's the main reason I'm glad that Boston pasted the Cards in the final three games of the series and finally put the skeletons of The Babe, Bill Buckner and the longest history of institutional racism in MLB behind itself. And that's about it. It's good for the Red Sox. It's good for baseball. It wasn't the Yankees.

The New York Times picked up on the whole root-against-the-Yankees vibe the following day with four solid pages of coverage on the final game of the Series. All stories and headlines basically pointed to the same conclusion: where was the drama? Extract the buffet lunch of sour grapes and humble pie and you can't argue with the writers' tack. The main story here was Boston's perfect 8-game win streak from the ALCS through the World Series and how the Yankees and Cards wilted under the spotlight.

Still, even the Cardinals-Houston NLCS run would've been more intriguing as a coda: high and lows, ebbs and flows, rookies and veterans, one swirling mix. The Cardinals just couldn't bring it against the Sox; St. Louis was the best team in baseball this season, but the Red Sox were the best team in baseball in October. In the advent of a 162-game season, that month makes all the difference.

Big in Japan



Here's Diamondbacks washout Alex Cabrera celebrating after launching a two-run blast during Game 3 of the Fall Classic. No, not that championship series. The other series...in Japan, where the Seibu Lions just sealed up a championship in a tense series against the Chunichi Dragons. Would that fly in America? Only in the NFL, but Cabrera can still claim full jackass rights after a monster series which saw him knock two home runs (including a grand slam) in Game 3 and a pivotal two-run shot in Game 7 to rally the Lions in the final game of the series.

What's cool is that the Lions became the first Japanese baseball team to win the Japan Series by besting their opponents in the final two games on the road. So there's some hope for the Cardinals in all this, I suppose, if they could only win a goddamn game. Team's MVP was starter Takashi Ishii, who finished the series with a sterling 0.00 era after going 1-5 during the regular season.

I don't pretend to know a lot about Japanese baseball, short of what I've read in Robert Whiting's excellent and informative chronicle You've Gotta Have Wa. I'd like to know more, mind you, but Japanese baseball remains woefully underexposed here in the U.S. Just think: Hideki Matsui has a team of journalists following him around and waiting for him to squeeze out a fart so it can make top headlines in Japan. And then Alex Cabrera goes over to Japan, does his best impression of David Ortiz, and no one seems to care.

I'm not concerned with that particular inequity, because Japanese leagues have been employing foreign (mot just U.S., but Korea and Taiwan) players with a much greater frequency for a much longer period of time. But with seventeen different ESPN channels on the dish, there's no room to air this series? C'mon: less teams, parity between the teams and a smaller talent pool to draw from -- the seven-game stretch sounds like it was a lot more intriguing than what's going on here right now.

Boston's up 4-0 as I write this. Go Lions!

Pretty ugly

The Las Vegas bookmakers called it right before Game 1 -- I can't see Boston steamrolling St. Louis in four games (or 3 1/2 as our man Bill "Spaceman" Lee might hope), but it may be the safest best to throw money on the Sox on the basis of momentum and a (slightly) deeper pitching staff and bench. I mean, La Russa had to start So Taguchi in left field last night in order to cover the DH slot. And while the move worked out fine -- Taguchi's ok defensively and went 1-for-3 at the plate -- Boston has the distinct advantage of being able to play the unflappable David Ortiz and Kevin Millar on home turf.

Peter Gammons says that the Cardinals outplayed the Red Sox last night, but I'm not sure that's true. Yes, the Sox were a mess defensively. Manny Ramirez continues to be his own worst enemy with some terrible plays. Did you see him dive for that ball and miss? Yikes. But Trot Nixon was the only Sox starter who failed to collect a hit, whereas the deepest part of the St. Louis order -- Pujols, Rolen and Sanders -- went a combined 0-11 and a 1/3 of the Cardinals' runs came courtesy of their opponent's errors. So offensively -- edge to the Red Sox. The old saw about pitching separating the contenders from the pretenders in the post season hasn't held true during the entire run of the playoffs, so why start now? Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves for some smashmouth baseball; Vinny Testaverde couldn't score this many runs with a Philadelphia offense behind him.

Back to the Future

From now on, I only want to hear Bill "Spaceman" Lee commenting on the postseason. During last year's Red Sox-Yankees match-up, Lee went on NPR and offered this gem:

"Uranus is in an 84-year cycle, and the last time Uranus was in this position after a loop around the sun was in 1918" -- the Sox' last World Series victory, beating (who else?) the Cubs -- "so the moons are positioned that, you know, in -- they're suspending all weddings in India right now in the Hindu religion because of the proximity of Mars and the way things are going. You know, things are really agitated."

Last night, NPR brought Lee back to discuss Boston's triumphant Game 7 victory, breaking the curse of the Bambino and the possibility of meeting the Cardinals again in the World Series. Lee went on to unpack a sensible theory about how the Yankees owe all of their historical postseason success to the Red Sox. But it wouldn't be a Lee commentary without some flighty nonsense, as he weighed in on karma and how the Red Sox and Cardinals are destined to meet each other in preordained intervals. And the inevitable outcome of the series? "The Red Sox will finish them off in 3 1/2 games. We'll beat them so badly they'll forfeit the last 4 innings."

This man could win you the election, Senator Kerry.

The Tigers Have Spoken

A friend in Detroit sent me a link to the following article about Cecil Fielder's recent struggles with a gambling addiction and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The guy's destitute, his family hasn't really heard from him, and he's had this outrageous fall from fortune that makes MC Hammer's Behind the Music reveal look trivial.

Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote a poem about the dual nature of greatness and fall from grace around 200 years ago and it's stuck with me since I first encountered it in 9th grade. Even those who have a weak stomach for poetry (as I do) would be hard pressed to argue that "Ozymandias" isn't lyrical perfection -- 14 lines that say everything that needs to be said on the subject with unflinching beauty and masterful economy. I think the author of the Detroit News postmortem must've had Shelley trapped in the recesses of his mind, too, particularly in the way he describes how Fielder's Florida mansion has suffered from neglect in the intervening years. Here's that poem for reference:

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed,
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

You could stick those lines in a post about, say, Pete Rose or any other fallen idol for that matter -- but we're constantly reminded of Rose's greatness on the field. It's amazing how well the poem fits Fielder's legacy, though, especially since the memory of his 1990-93 run with the Tigers has fallen into a state of disrepair and neglect. Fielder's 1990 season, in particular, was electric -- he became the first major leaguer to bash 50 home runs since Big Red Machine cog George Foster in '77 and led the league in rbi, slugging percentage and total bases. Only Rickey Henderson did more damage at the plate.

Fielder's biggest impact on baseball, I think, remains unrecognized. His success in 1990 was directly responsible in motivating big league execs to look towards Japan as a viable source of talent for the major leagues. Before Fielder came back to the States, Japan was the place to go for the twilight of your career. Leon Lee played there. Bob Horner, too. But no one ever came back from the Land of the Rising Sun and kicked ass like Fielder. The Marlins took a cue and signed reclamation project Orestes Destrade to a plum contract in the immediate aftermath; a few years later, Hideo Nomo came to the Dodgers and busted the seal wide open. For me, Fielder's one of those guys -- like Curt Flood, I guess -- where his big contribution came from kicking off a chain reaction of important events. Pity it had to end up like this.

The fat lady has been muzzled

Over in the Lone Star state, Brandon Backe and Woody Williams flirted with perfection. Backe ran a no-hitter 'til the 6th and and both pitchers rang up goose eggs on the ol' scoreboard in 15 combined innings of work before Jason Isringhausen coughed up three runs in the bottom of the ninth. This is what we usually expect from a championship game -- two competitors running neck-and-neck, challenging each other inning after inning. This was postseason perfection.

And back under the shadow of the Green Monster, there was imperfection. Loads of it. Longest ALCS game ever, as a matter of fact -- took 14 innings and 14 pitchers just to sort this mess out. Moose came out triumphant over Pedro to kick it all off, but the game belonged to the Red Sox after the 6th inning...even if these guys couldn't catch a break until Tim McCarver exhausted every last one of his shot-calling aphorisms.

There was Bronson Arroyo, he of the golden cornrows, stepping to the mound after a disastrous Game 3 start and fooling the best part of the Yankees' order with filthy stuff. And Mike Myers, whose sidearm delivery moves s-l-o-w-e-r than a lady of leisure unfolding an Chinese fan, rattling off four pitches of molasses. And Alan Embree finishing off the inning by striking out two straight batters. And Tim Wakefield scaring the bejeesus out of everyone but the Red Sox Nation hopefuls with what seemed like at least sixteen straight passed balls. Varitek couldn't even restrain Wakefield's knuckle.

Don't doubt for a second that David Ortiz said what you thought he said after the ump called him out on a what-game-were-you-watching checked swing, though. Ortiz clearly turned to the camera and mouthed "That's bullshit!" before returning to the dugout and finding himself at the receiving end of a series of bad calls that deserved far greater expletives. Who could blame him? Dude was so enraged that he ripped a soft Esteban Loaiza pitch right into center with two outs in the 14th to bring Johnny Damon home and send the Yankees back to New York licking their wounds.

Best way to combat indifference and doubt? If you're the Braves, you fold and regroup. But in Boston and Houston, you stay hungry. I don't think there's every been a postseason performance to match what Carlos Beltran is doing for the Astros. He's en fuego, with a home run in, like, every third at-bat -- he is the team. And Ortiz? He keeps saving the day, too. He's not going to carry Boston like Beltran with the Astros, but he's doing collateral damage with that .500 postseason average. And he's pissed off. Walk him, pitch around him, trick him into a ground ball out, whatever -- just stay the fuck out of his way.

The Tide is High



I don't get it. But look at the guy in the picture with his shit-eating grin, ready to prostrate himself for George Costanza's longtime employer. I mean, it makes no sense -- maybe we've moved from the usual hyper-misogynist depictions of the "other" team and its fans as "ladies" and on to forced infantilization. What a slap in the face to all those adults I've seen strolling around in Huggies and bonnets on the Jenny Jones show? Seriously, what would Vice magazine say about this? Yikes.

Game 3 of the ALCS moves to tonight after Bud Selig canceled last night's contest for fear of inclement weather. What a drag for Houston and Stl, who can't catch a break with the scheduling when there's a Yankees or Red Sox around to grab a larger network share. And the Red Sox? Still in the fetal position, no matter what the Boston-area message boards would lead you to believe about momentum, changing heart, et al. Boston's irresistible force can't knock the Yankees' immovable object out of the way. Brown vs. Arroyo tonight and Hernandez vs. Wakefield tomorrow; both games are at Fenway, but both pitching match-ups favor the Yankees. Or do they?

Brown has no decisions against the Red Soc this year, and hasn't pitched against the division rivals since April, when he faced Boston in two unimpressive starts. And Hernandez, who had an otherwise fine last half, only faced Boston once in September and got knocked out after 3 innings. Arroyo has four no decisions in four starts against the Yankees, though the Red Sox cruised to victory in all of the games he started with not much help from him. Wakefield moves to the top of the leader board in wins, because unlike the other three, he actually nailed down a win against the Yankees.

The crystal ball is as cloudy as the Boston skyline, though, and I'm going to have to go with my gut. I'll guess that the Yankees show Boston who's their Yankee Daddy in tonight's game, while Boston fearing the humiliation of being swept, turns on the juice and takes game four. Key to this weekend's contests = Manny Ramirez, doing a marvelous impression of Barry Bonds in the postseason. Wake up, dude.

Babies Got Backe

The Astros deserve so much more. Here's a team that was six games under .500 at the All-Star break and waffled over trading Carlos Beltran to a contender like our man John K on America's continuing involvement in Iraq. But it's a war, man, and the 'Stros soldiered on through the second half of the season, against their better judgment -- against anyone's better judgment -- and came up with a wild-card berth.

And now? Andy Petitte's on the shelf and Roger Clemens and Wade Miller have to wait 'til games #3 and #4 to make a mark. So the Astros are throwing out two guys named Pete Munro (who starts the big game tonight) and Brandon Backe (whose success has a pitcher has been so waaaaayyyy out of leftfield that he, uh, actually started in that position). Didn't work well in the first game as Backe went backe to the clubhouse, but maybe Munro can pull a Tim Wakefield and make some noise in the big postseason start.

I don't like his team's chances, though. And that's a no-brainer. My god, can the Cardinals rake. It doesn't even matter how many times Carlos Beltran can go yard. It doesn't matter that year's comeback kid Chris Carpenter went down for the rest of the season. It doesn't matter that Scott Rolen's performance against L.A. was worthy of a Mr. Yuk sticker. St. Louis is so good off the bench and in the bullpen than all of the puzzle pieces are right there. And this team's cauldron bubbles over with personality like the '93 Phillies or the '87 Twins -- you can't root for the Astros without feeling a little sorry for them, but you can get right behind the Cardinals.

And either way -- though a World Series berth for the Cardinals has been written in stone since May -- this'll be the first time a NL Central team will advance to the World Series since the introduction of the wild card. And that feels electric, considering how much pride people have taken on hating on the NL Central over the last couple of years. St. Louis has angels in the outfield and divine right on its side. Watch Edmonds-Pujols-Walker destroy the Yankees for their fallen Astros comrades. Watch them do it for the also-rans and never-weres in Pittsburgh and Milwaukee and Cincinnati. And watch them do it for the good of baseball.

Frying pan or fire?

Hadn't watched a lick of baseball for a month preceding last night's Yankees-Red Sox match-up. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to deduce that from my lack of posts at the end of the season. Is it mid-October already? The last month has seemed like an out-of-body experience as I've been doing my best impression of my father-as-burgeoning-workaholic, burning the candle at both ends. And something had to go and it looks like I missed out on a lot of fun games, as well as the Astros remarkable half-season sprint towards the playoffs (more on this next time).

Baseball's not basketball and it sure as hell ain't hockey; only a choice few teams make the playoffs, teams with mediocre attributes never advance on to the postseason and the disconnect between the regular season and the post-season is much less than in any other professional sports league. Which is to say: there's a purpose to actually watching regular season games, whereas there's no reason to watch hockey until all but two teams make the playoffs and duke it out for what seems like two solid months of contests. I dunno; up until the introduction of the wild card a few years ago, I actually never even saw a point to getting down with the playoffs until the World Series -- even with a personal stake in the proceedings during The Pirates' near-miss runs between 1990-1992.

So: last night. Not a bad game. 6 innings of what seemed like an analog for the regular season, with the Yankees chasing Schilling out of the game early and asserting dominance in every way (though the BoSox retain their slight edge in moral superiority and a massive lead in stupid haircuts). Then: a spark, a fire, a full-on blaze as the Sox pound out 5 runs in the 7th and 2 more in the 8th to pull within one run of the Evil Empire before Bernie Williams knocked two more runs in to widen the gap.

And this, my friends, is what Joseph Campbell was talking about with the power of myth. Bill Mueller -- who the Fox commentators delighted in reminding us has made Mariano Rivera his bitch this season -- up at the plate with two men on and a chance for some more of his regular season heroics. One long ball is all it takes to tie the game and shift the dynamics of the game. Ball, whiff, ball, foul...and Mueller hits into a double-play to end the game. Mueller's no goat, but Rivera's back to being top dog. NY fans rejoice, Boston fans head to the nearest Irish pub. And it ain't over by a long shot.

Howe now, brown cow

Rob Neyer got a lesson in ethics this week. Texas Rangers reliever Frank Francisco now has more time for those inevitable anger management classes. I'm thinking Jim Duquette might want to consider sensitivity training during the offseason, as his plan for firing Mets manager Art Howe at the end of the season leaked early and he had to put the spin control in motion in order to worm out of yet another PR disaster. Art Howe seems like a stand-up guy, though; he agreed to stay on for the remaining 17 games of the season after meeting with Duquette. A generous move, I'd say, as the inconvenience of replacing Howe for the last couple of weeks of the season is the last thing the Mets need to cap off a dreadful season.

And to be fair, it's not Howe's fault. I mean, in his two seasons of managing the Mets, he has barely cracked a .400 win percentage, which means he might as well have been managing the Brewers. Actually, I'll bet he wishes he had inked a deal to manage the Brewers two years ago -- there's promise for the future with a nice core of young talent on that team, while the Mets don't have anything to look forward to without massive restructuring.

Ultimately, it's all about the talent. A great team (like Howe's A's teams) can succeed without a great manager (and Moneyball would have you believe that Howe is not one, though I'm not sure I agree with that assessment). A great, or good or even competent, manager can't do much without a team that has the tools to succeed: here's Lloyd McClendon, patron saint of this here blog, floundering year after year with the Pirates. So what role does a manager play? Filling out those line-up cards, for one, and giving a team a reason to believe and motivating them when they need a swift kick in the ass (Jack McKeon to the Marlins '03; Phil Garner to the Astros '04).

Also, it should be mentioned that the only thing worse than Mets management is the team's luck this year. Jose Reyes and Kaz Matsui did impressions of Samuel L. Jackson in Unbreakable and forced Jeff Keppinger and Wilson Delgado into the starting line-up. Piazza waffled about playing first base, so now Todd Zeile is there. Trades -- Hidalgo, Benson, Zambrano -- did absolutely nothing and seemed like profligate excuses for spending money better served in a roth IRA or stuffed inside a mattress. Starters dropped like flies, and then their replacements dropped like flies, and then the 3rd string replacements couldn't keep healthy.

And Art Howe? He'll still have his dignity at the end of the season. No one else affiliated with the Mets can say the same.

Fresh meat

The NL Rookie of the Year race just got interesting. No one's come close to having a season like Henry Rowengartner had for the Cubs in, oh, '93. But this season, it has been neck-and-neck between Pirates OF Jason Bay (The Outfielder Formerly Known As The Brian Giles Trade Throw In) and Padres SS Khalil Greene (The Only MLB Player Who Practices The Bah'ai Faith). Jason Bay missed nearly two months to open the season -- but collected Rookie of the Month honors in June and July -- which some pundits decided was enough to disqualify him from consideration. But, oh wait -- Khalil Greene broke a finger on Monday night and now he's out for the rest of the season. So injuries took their toll on both seasons.

Here's Khalil Greene's season numbers:
484ab /66r/ 132h/ 15hr/ 65bi/ 4sb/ .273ba/ .349obp/ .446slg/ .795ops

And here's Jason Bay through Wednesday 9/14/04:
350ab/ 55r/ 103h/ 23hr/ 72bi/ 3sb/ .294ba/ .372obp/ .571slg/ .943ops

I don't think we even need to consider the 50 or so at-bats (and handful of home runs and rbi) Bay will have over the rest of the season to do a point-by-point comparison. 300 abs is all that should be needed to qualify for consideration -- that's plenty to make a mark. And isn't it odd to see the same folks who rushed to anoint Dontrelle Willis (who came up later in the season than Brandon Webb) last year's NL ROY using the same criteria to argue that Greene would be a better choice?

Bay's not flawless, mind you: he strikes out at a much greater clip than Greene, has been thrown out stealing more, and has hit into more double-plays. Fair enough. Defense gets thrown out there a lot as a reason why Greene's the superior candidate, and of course he's playing a much harder defensive position, and he's made some Sports Center highlight reel plays this season, but check it out: Greene has 20 errors on the season and a fielding percentage of .965. Mr. Bay (in half of the "chances") has exactly one error and a fielding percentage of .995. Translation: he does not suck in the field.

Beyond that, the leads in all power categories should nail the door shut. Especially that .943 ops -- not Barry Bonds ungodly, but amazing. Hammer says: u can't touch that. I mean, that's it. End of story. Jason Bay has been the most consistent performer on the Pirates this year; Greene is...playing a role. Better than Ramon Vasquez, sure. But he's no Jason Bay.

Don't Worry, Lo Duca

Montreal's all tied up for a motocross racing event, so it's the Marlins vs. Expos at a neutral location on Monday and Tuesday. I'm soooo there. Is this a first? I mean, the Expos have obviously played a large number of games at Hiram Bithorn Stadium over the past couple of years, Las Vegas has hosted regular season games, and season openers have occurred in Monterey and Japan -- but has inclement weather or some other hardship, in combination with a lack of availability at either "home" or "away" fields, ever forced a neutral-location game(s) between two opponents during the regular season?

P.S. Carl Pavano will be robbed if he doesn't collect the NL Cy Young this year. I'm still sad he broke the engagement with Alyssa Milano off, ending all hopes for a hyphenated Milano-Pavano married name.

Update 9/12/04: Both games start at 1:05, and *sniff* I'll be chained to my desk at work. Tickets are $15, the whole stadium will be general admission, and a third of the gate receipts go to disaster relief. Kudos to MLB.

Also, the answer to the question I posed above is that the Yanks played the Angels in Shea Stadium for one game in '98 while Yankee Stadium was undergoing mandatory repairs. Also, Oakland played 6 games in Las Vegas to open the '96 season -- but what I was really searching for was something like the Yankees-Angels-Shea Stadium example.

Chi-town follies

While the whole world waited for Barry to join the 700 club (it'll happen this season, and he'll surpass Ruth the next and then Aaron the next because of a little thing called T-E-N-A-C-I-T-Y), Gobo rolled into town for a conference and we headed over to Wrigley Field to watch a Cubs-Expos game from the (sorta) cheapie section. Big fun -- hanging out with Gobo, at least. He came prepared for the party with a Cubs jersey with his own name imprinted on the back of it, probably because he shares a name with a certain obsessive-compulsive relieverwho likes to chew on, like, bark and trace circles on the pitcher's mound. When I see this guy pitch, all I can think of is Tony Shaloub in Monk.

And the game itself? To quote Iggy and the Stooges: no fun, no fun, no fun. Greg Maddux kept it on lockdown through 7 innings before everything went boom and the Expos pounded out 5 runs in the 8th. Wasn't Maddux's fault, though -- he only ended up with two earned runs on his line, due in part to Derrek Lee booting a throw to first and catcher Paul Bako wildly misplaying a shouldn't-have-done-it-under-any-circumstance throw to second base.

And the Cubs could not put together the hits against Montreal starter Scott Downs (once traded from the Cubs to the Expos for Henry Rodriguez, a hero in Montreal back when folks cared enough to throw O Henry! candy bars onto the field), who came into the game with a 7.00+ era. Sammy Sosa looked mortal for the first time since he donned a Cubs uniform in 1992 and just hacked, hacked, hacked away at the pitches. Nomar Garciaparra (back in a Cubs uniform in '05? We couldn't decide) grounded into two double-plays and stranded four runners on base. And Mike Remlinger came in to relieve Maddux for a third of an inning and coughed up another run, prompting a huge Bronx cheer from the largely disinterested crowd.

On the plus side, a few fans walked away with Ryne Sandberg autographed baseballs. On the other side, this was the game where the Astros overtook the Cubs for the Wild Card lead...and then lost it again. So we've got the Cubs tied with the Astros and the Giants, with Florida and Philly within spitting distance, at this writing. Florida has more games to make up (including some which may be moved to the South Side of Chicago because of Hurricane Ivan -- how strange is that?). That's my pick. Philly's not fooling anyone and the Marlins are the only team that has the pitching to compete in the playoffs. Watch the Cubs take a dirt nap in October and please be sure to congratulate me on the fact that my commute time coming home from work is sure to reduce by 50%.

Stinkees


 

How therapeutic is this? Very. For one, it gives me an opportunity to figure out how to post images to this here blog. Beyond that, though, it gives me a chance to relive the glory of the Evil Empire's worst defeat...EVER. How bad was it? To find a shutout as lopsided as Cleveland's crushing victory on Wednesday evening, you'd have to hop on the time machine with Mr. Peabody and Sherman and go all the way back to 1900, a Pittsburgh team comprised of folks with curly mustaches and sissy knickers pounded the pepper out their Cubs competitors.

The press seemed to be really concerned with A-Rod and Babyface Jeter's reactions after the game. But what about Kevin Brown, all 10-4 up in this bitch, breaking his hand in a fit of frustration two nights ago and jeopardizing the rest of his season? It's as hard to comprehend as Steinbrenner's post-game motivational schtick where he likened the plight of the Yankees to the plight of New York after the events of September 11, 2001.

Barring a spectacular collapse, the Yankees will at least qualify for a Wild Card spot. Minnesota and Oakland appear to have it locked up in the other divisions, but the Yankees-Red Sox dogfight is the only race that matters in the AL right now. As of this writing, the Yankees are 5-5 in their last 10 games, while Ben Affleck's team has cruised to a 9-1 record. What part does momentum play? It's huge if you've ever played Def Jam Vendetta. The Yanks lead has crumbled to 2.5 games in the AL East; similar records over the next 10 could flip-flop the standings and have the Sox pull ahead.

My pal Albert likes to say that rooting for the Red Sox is a vain and hopeless pursuit because the Red Sox try to parry and thrust along with all of the Yankees' moves and they're still not good enough to beat the Yankees. Steinbrenner was right, though: the Yankees are the City of New York's problem. Boston's 8-5 record against the team that broke Scrooge MacDuck's bank vault? 8-5. No problem.

Indie rock and baseball

Had hoped to post more this month -- I've had a post on what the Dodgers' deadline moves mean for the pitching staff for the rest of the season floating around my head for the past week -- but you know how it goes in the world of blogging. Personal life always gets in the way. Rough week. Anyway, this is what folks in the "industry" like to call "filler" -- a little stop-gap post to keep the juices flowing until I can sit down and get, like, thoughtful and shit.

Since I've spent the past week doing nothing but listening to CDs (it's a job and a lifestyle, I guess), I've been thinking a lot about a 7" record I picked up in college by Barbara Manning called The Baseball Trilogy. I think it's out of print at the moment, which is a pity. Manning is a huge baseball fan: the cover of her record One Perfect Green Blanket depicts and refers to a baseball diamond and Manning named her longtime band SF Seals in honor of Joltin' Joe DiMaggios very first pro team. The Baseball Trilogy, in particular, is a real treat: I have a soft spot for it because she devotes one of the songs to my favorite ball player of all time.

Just got word from my "sources" that noted crank Steve Albini (the guy that produced, er, recorded Nirvana and the Pixies and...everything) TiVos "Baseball Tonight" while he's in the studio and watches it obsessively. That didn't surprise me too much, when I recalled the Albini's band Shellac did a baseball-themed tour in support of their 1994 record At Action Park. This one got me, though: Gerard Cosloy, proprietor of Matador Records, has been working incognito on a sports blog with a heavy baseball emphasis. Interesting in hearing what the guy who signed Liz Phair and Pavement and Cat Power has to say about Steve Kline or the latest foibles of the Mets? You betcha.