Cuntjustification, Pt. 2

I actually have a post on baseball free agency almost completely written out, mainly because I (stupidly) didn't think the MT stuff would be very compelling to anyone but me. I was pleasantly mistaken. So, that'll come another day. Tease: Juan Pierre's contract is outrageous! Bet you can't wait.

Where to begin? A request has been made for some further substantiation of the claims made against MT, and it's proven to be a relatively difficult task when one is restricted to the interweb (my interest in the issue isn't great enough to buy anything about it). But I have found some things of interest (sorry, D, no "stats," though I fail to see what stats one could actually get on the subject, since MT refused to publicize anything except the mythology surrounding her order), that are worth mentioning. One of them is a Slate article by Chris Hitchens, who wrote a book called The Missionary Position that was all about our favorite Calcuttian.

(Aside on Hitchens: What does his drinking have to do with anything? Not only is he honest about his drinking — probably even proud of it — I challenge anyone to read something he's written and show me an example of how the scotch has diluted his ability to think or write one bit. To dismiss Hitchens' points because of his drinking is to engage in behaviour fit only for Republican presidential candidates)

There's also the book written by the timid-looking man who was interviewed in the Penn & Teller clip: The Final Verdict by Aroup Chaterjee, a Calcutta native who did extensive research on MT before her death. He's published the first three chapters online, and they make for some interesting reading. In the interest of offering a preview, here's a part that caught my eye:

On 30 August 1996, at around 5 p.m., I found a small commotion in front of Shishu Bhavan's entrance - a 'very poor' woman, Noor Jehan (name slightly changed at her own request), was wailing at the top of her voice. She had with her, her two children, both girls, the younger one about 10 months and the older about 2 years old. The 10 month old was obviously suffering with diarrhoea and was ill; the 2 year old was miserable and fed up and was lying on the pavement, screaming.

I asked Noor Jehan what the matter was. She told me that she had been thrown out of her home (she lived in a slum near the Calcutta docks) by her violent husband the night before and she had arrived at Shishu Bhavan at 10 p.m. hoping to get some help for her children. She had been let in by the night porter and had been allowed to sleep in the courtyard - they had even given her a sheet for her children. Promptly at 5 a.m. however, she had been thrown out on to the pavement with a cup of tea. From then on, she had been alternately pleading and demanding to be let in, so that the children could have something to eat and somewhere to sleep.

Noor Jehan's entreaties for help were not entertained by the nuns - the door remained firmly shut in her face. The baby's hungry wails were ignored. The local shopkeepers took pity on the woman and gave her some tea and bread; somebody brought some milk for the children. By the time that I arrived at 5 p.m., a small crowd of about a dozen people had gathered and had turned quite hostile towards the nuns.After a lot of loud banging, a nun appeared at the door. I asked her why they would not give the woman and her children some food, and shelter for that night only. The nun explained that they could do that, but only after the mother had handed over the absolute rights of her children to the Missionaries of Charity. In other words, the 'form of renunciation' had to be signed, or in this case, had to be imprinted with the impression of Noor Jehan's left thumb. The children would then, in due course, be adopted by a good Catholic family in the West - the last bit is my own presumption; the nun did not actually say it.

A couple of other things I stumbled across: An article in The New Statesman and an article by a former member of her order.

In reference to D's criticism of my criticism: Of course MT's done more "good" for the poor than I have. But I submit that MT has also done more harm to the poor than I have, both with her Skinner-esque approach to "helping" the poor and the use of her political capital to wage war against abortion and divorce. Furthermore, I submit MT had the ability to do much more good than she actually did, as evidenced by the money she raised under the auspices of helping the poor and eventually used to build convents instead. While I realize that charitable giving isn't a zero-sum equation, it's plausible to suggest that lots of people who wished to give to the poor would have diverted their funds to more honest sources had the truth — or at least some of the accusations — regarding MT's ministry been told in her lifetime. So, I'm willing to count against MT the good that wasn't done by her as, at least, lost "opportunity cost." Thus, she's a cunt.

Mark: I understand your point completely, but I'm not sure I see much moral distinction between the ends of your three options (welfare, religious organizations or abandonment). Both welfare and religious organizations have perpetuated the problem of poverty, in my opinion, by either attempting to buy off those who suffer from it, or tell them that to be decrepit is noble. At least in the case of abandonment, we don't take an active role, which isn't any more "wrong" than actively abetting poverty itself.

I realize the validity of the, "Well, at least the church is willing to do something," argument, but that doesn't make it any less troublesome. Society ends up paying a pretty extreme price in return for religion taking care of the abject, usually in the form of having to tolerate the organizations themselves. MT is a perfect example of this: If any other Nobel Prize winner got up on stage and said something as utterly insane as abortion being the "greatest destroyer of peace," he or she would become an instant punchline. But no one wanted to take MT to task for saying it, because she had become the world's guilt eater, and both the Peace Prize and the pass she got for her indefensible views were her wages (not to mention an attempt at accelerated sainthood by the previous Pope, before he cashed out, too). So, I end up asking this: Is it worth it, all of this baggage, to avoid guilt over not being poor but knowing poverty exists for others? That's ultimately a personal question, and my answer is no. But I understand if someone feels otherwise, provided they do so realizing the bargain they're making.

And, ultimately, I don't have a problem with others thinking that MT was more good than bad, or just good period. I have offered my cuntjustification; do with it what you will.

Cuntjustification

I like that word so much I'm going to make it a new label, and I'll probably put it on every post from here on in. It just kinda rolls off the tongue.

Cuntjustification.

Anyway, on to the reason for my little linguistic bundle of joy: A couple weeks back, a few of you mofos asked me what my beef was with the late Mother Theresa, a woman I have called a "cunt" on more than a few locations. Mercifully, since I was drunk, the conversation didn't go long, because I am somehow incapable of remaining dispassionate on the subject of this thieving whore.

But if any of you are curious, here's a short, funny, and accurate account of the basic beefs with Mother Theresa. If you need even more reason to hate this bitch after this, then I'll be more than happy to finish the job.

Sabbatical over

I can't exactly explain why I haven't posted anything in a while. There were plenty of interesting topics, but for some reason nothing I had to say about any of them were particularly interesting. Plus, I spent a few nights writing a guide to Rome for a couple of friends of mine that certainly didn't turn out like I had spent that much time on it; for someone who writes as infrequently as I do these days, I sure do seem to go through a lot of slumps. But, I'm feeling good today, so I'm going to try and play catch-up.

(Justin-like side note: I've been having some really weird pains in my chestal area lately. Despite the bad rap I get for my shaky wheels, I'm not particularly prone to fits of hypochondria, but it's been an unsettling thing for me this past weekend. The funny thing is, beside the smoking and drinking, I've actually been pretty healthy lately. But, of course, the ridiculousness of that last sentence identifies the whole problem, doesn't it? I really wish I wanted to quit smoking sometime outside the hours of 1 a.m.-8 a.m.)

1. What I've been trying to say is that David Stern is racist

The post I've lamely been trying to cobble together was a thesis piece on why the NBA commish obviously hates the black man. My inability to actually get it done is something I attributed to a "slump," but it might also be that I found elucidating the point to be much more difficult than my original arrival at the conclusion. I can't particularly break the argument down into a syllogism, which might be why I was having so much difficulty writing the post. But what I was trying to prove was that Stern has decided that the only viable target for the NBA is Corporate America, and he has concluded that Corporate America and the inner city culture adhered to by most NBA players are not sympatico. Thusly, he has spent much of his legislative time the last handful of years trying to whitewash the players, and ultimately the league. The draft age minimum, the dress code, the lowered technical thresholds are the most recent (and most transparent) amendments that aim to make the league less threatening to the rich white dudes that buy luxury boxes. The severity of the leaving-the-bench rule is a historical antecedent for the current rules, and the situation in the Suns-Spurs series brought the problem with it — it's complete lack of regard for basic human instinct — into clearer relief. That such an indefensible policy (or, more precisely, that a rule with such indefensible rigidity in its application) still exists is more de facto proof of Stern's prejudice and willingness to be irrational in his pursuit of a non-threatening league. Furthermore, the paradox of how Jason Kidd and Allen Iverson are treated by the League's marketing department is further evidence that appearances are what's truly important to Stern; despite the fact that Jason Kidd is a confessed wife-beater, he shows up in more NBA montages than the fucking logo. Iverson, on the other hand, has a fairly tame rap sheet that dates back to high school and one insanely overblown fight with his wife in which he was not really convicted of doing anything except screaming out of his patio door. But because he has tattoos and 'rows and talks exactly as you'd expect someone from a poor area of Virginia to speak. But when was the last time the League really promoted Iverson, who actually exemplifies all the clichés — grit, hustle, talent maximization — that we supposedly revere? And I don't think its difficult to find plenty of paradoxes that are equally as angering or suggestive of deeper currents.

And the real problem, of course, is that Stern presides over the league that really owes its entire existence to black people, and to only a slightly lesser extent black culture. When people talk about the issue of black attrition in baseball, I think to myself that it's unfortunate but a product of the fact that other sports — basketball and football, namely — have captured the imagination of black american athletes much more effectively than baseball. And then you look at the NBA, and realize that if Stern had his way, I honestly believe he'd turn the sport into a modern minstrel show. Can I conclusively prove this? Of course not. But I also don't believe that my theory is outlandish.

2. MyfuckinggodIcan'tstandtheYankeestalkanymore

For some reason, I end up becoming a magnet for random conversations about sports at bars. This probably serves as a reasonable explanation as to why I so rarely actually meet girls at bars, since very few girls care about breaking down the draft or debating the relative merits of the stolen base. Anyway, no matter the point a sports conversation begins at these days, it appears all conversational roads lead to the Yankees; in so many ways, that franchise is the Rome of the MLB, if not sports in general. To extend the metaphor, while Rome is clearly burning right now, it's not really as compelling as a lot of people are making it out to be.

Of course the Yankees aren't this bad. This is a better collection of players than that assembled by Tampa, and yet those two franchises share a similarly unimpressive position in the AL East. But what does that mean? A lot of things. One, the team is old, and old teams are very often hard to predict, because an individual player's decline in baseball is often sudden and precipitous. Two, the bullpen is not very good, because Rivera hasn't been sharp and Torre's spent a lot of time the last three years beating the life out of any usable arm in the group. Three, the team has been unlucky in a variety of ways. Injuries have really hurt the starting rotation, things haven't been breaking their way, and the Red Sox are looking like a 110-win team.

And that's all. Is there really anything that interesting about anything I just said there? I don't think so. So why should anyone who is not a Yankee fan — someone who will likely be a part of a rapidly growing population this season — spend any amount of time talking about this? This team is no more interesting than the Indians, who similarly played so far beneath their Pythagorean record last season that it would be the first thing omitted from a regression analysis. There was no hand-wringing from the Baseball Tonight crew, no Eric Wedge death watch. And yes, I realize that they're THE YANKEES, and this means that they're supposedly important to everyone. But, c'mon ... we have no shortage of interesting things happening this year in baseball. Can we just agree to leave it alone until they hit a hot streak and force us to acknowledge them again?

3. (Long-standing beef edition) People really need to learn the meanings of the words they use.

Feel free to use the previous section of this post as a primer for anyone who abuses the word "irony." Is it that hard a concept to understand? Irony ≢ funny. I've had three people tell me something is ironic in the last four days, and not once were they even within skeeting distance of the correct meaning of the word. I also heard someone use the term "diorama" in the following context: "There's an entire diorama of ideas going through my head." The person then followed up with the phrase "The menagerie of my business ..." at which point I suffered from immediate, widespread organ failure, and would not have survived had someone not rushed one of Bill Safire's "On Language" columns to me immediately. Lucky me, I guess.

It should be explained that I spent a good portion of the weekend hanging out with people from Scottsdale, and almost every single person I spoke to was an aspiring "entrepreneur." One of those "entrepreneurs" explained to me that he owns a porn site that remains, at press time, bereft of actual pornography. His plan is to convert one of the rooms in his new house into a studio for the purpose of creating some pornography. "I could be in the movies themselves," he said to me, keg beer in one hand as he brushed back his overgrown, styled bangs out of his eyes with the other, "but I don't think I want to get involved in that side of the business, you know? It's better to keep that separation there." He also claimed to have a grandmother who is some big shot at Pepperdine's law school, and promised to "get me in, for sure."

That story was apropos of nothing; I just felt the need to share it.

4. It is possible that both Greg Oden and Kevin Durant will be outstanding basketball players, and that neither the Trail Blazers or the Sonics will look back on this draft with regret.

One of my ongoing complaints is how everyone seems to approach questions as if the decision were binary. I realize that I've been accused of harboring "black and white" views on many things, but that's reserved for cases in which I believe the potential exists that a right or wrong answer can actually be divined. But how can anyone tell me with a straight face that they know that only one of these two guys is going to turn out to be the better pick by a significant margin? I don't mind analysis, even if it's somewhat unhinged or really just conjecture, because I understand that 24-hour sports networks need to fill up the airtime with something besides poker re-runs. But how is it that I haven't heard one analyst say that it's possible that the Blazers simply can't go wrong with this pick? Does this bother anyone else?

5. At least Greg Dobbs doesn't bother lecturing me about the evils of outsourcing.

I decide not to post for a couple of weeks, and I come back to a blog that looks more like the 700 Level than it does an argument blog. And you know those painkillers they give out for appendectomies are good when Brett Myers' injury isn't enough to fade the high of a man who's been a veritible Monsieur Visage de la Tristesse the last year or so.

At least Justin brought up one interesting point in his last post, which is how the concept of clubhouse chemistry plays into winning and losing. I happen to think there's something to be said about good chemistry; at the least, it certainly can't hurt, and to whatever extent you're willing to accept basic business principles as being applicable to the management of a baseball team, an environment that fosters respect and co-operation is highly favorable. However, I don't believe that bad chemistry is all that horrible; as Justin stated, these guys are well-paid professionals and one should expect that they don't need to like each other to do the job. So, good is good, but bad probably isn't that bad at all.

I agree that this Phillies team is compelling for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that I get a lot of enjoyment watching good things happen to teams that are hamstrung by the efforts of complete idiots. I actually called Justin the other day just because I had to remark on the beauty of Charlie Manuel "shaking things up" by benching Pat Burrell for Jason Werth against soft-tosser Doug Davis a couple of nights ago. For the 400,oooth time, Burrell absolutely annihilates lefties, and even better he draws walks, which Davis is ultra-proficient at giving out. Chucky Autism cited Burrell's 1-for-10 career mark against Davis, which is more proof that the man is completed retarded. 10 at bats?!? Even an evangelical wouldn't be willing to draw any kind of inference from such scant data.

Now, the Phillies will provide me the opportunity to witness the exploits of The Sextapus — a gloss that was borne of an otherwise uneventful TGWNA field trip to Chase Airplane HangarField a couple of weeks back — on a nightly basis, since SportsCenter loves showing blown saves by frightening, misshapen, obese pitchers almost as much as it likes cross-promotion. Did we mention that Ole' Six-Fingers will be on Mike & Mike tomorrow, who will be calling the Scripps Spelling Bee, which is brought to you by Tinactin? Here's Billy the Marlin, holding up a cue card! WE'RE TOPICAL AND EDGY!

(Curtain)

The Stupidest Thing I've Heard All Day, April 23

Guess what: It's from another Steve Phillips chat.

Dan (Philadelphia): Steve, is Brett Meyers ultimately going to be the closer for the Phillies? If so, what can they get for Tom Gordon?

Steve Phillips: The Brett Myers move is one of the most perplexing I've seen in the recent past. I understand Jonathan Papelbon moving to the closer's role this spring, because the Red Sox had three other potential aces. The Phillies aren't as lucky, and removing Myers from the number 1 spot in the rotation to pitch him in the eighth innning doesn't make sense to me. I know the Phillies have concerns about the physical well-being of Tom Gordon to handle the closer's role for an entire season. If Myers goes to the bullpen, he has to close. For instance, he came in and pitched the ninth inning in a 9-2 game. That's a complete waste of Brett Myers' ability. He needs to start if he's not pitching in critical situations. Gordon doesn't have much trade value right now because everybody interprets the Phillies' moves to be as much about the eighth inning today as the ninth tomorow. If the Phillies could trade Gordon for a proven, consistent, top-flight eighth inning pitcher, they should jump at it now. they could move Myers to the closer's role and have more predictability out of the bullpen. I just don't think that deal is out there.

First of all, while I may not agree with some very smart people (and dumb people) who believe the Myers' move was the right one to make, using the term "perplexing" usually indicates that there's really no viable explanation. There are arguments to be made (even some good ones) that moving Myers to the 'pen is actually a masterstroke. It depends; I'm thinking about writing a post about how it could be a great move, but likely will be mismanaged. But that's neither here nor there; what's important is that "perplexing" is overstatement.

Further, holding up an example of how the Phillies have already starting mismanaging Brett Myers out of the 'pen doesn't illustrate your point, asshole. Of course Myers shouldn't be out there in a 9-2 game, but he should have been out there sometime in the first two weeks of the season when the Phillies were choking away leads in the late innings.

Finally, there is a truly "perplexing" argument made by Phillips, here, that made me laugh out loud. Here is the argument, presented in order of chronological premises and ultimate conclusion:

1) Brett Myers is the ace of the staff: .47 VORP (Veracity Over Replacement Premise, with 1.00 representing a completely and verifiably true statement)

2) (Implied) Brett Myers, as the "ace" of the starting staff, is immediately also the team's best pitcher in the bullpen: .13 VORP

3) Brett Myers would only have value to the Phillies bullpen if he were the closer, because only closers come up in "critical" situations: -.99 VORP (a negative VORP like this one indicates that it's actually the complete opposite of the truth)

4) Tom Gordon does not have trade value: -.41 VORP

Those are the four main premises to the following argument, which have a combined VORP of -.80, which means that there is no possible way that Phillips could possibly reach a viable conclusion. Yet he soldiers on with this gem:

Conclusion: The Phillies should consider trading Tom Gordon for an eighth-inning pitcher, despite the fact that Steve just said that eighth-inning pitchers aren't all that important because they don't pitch in "critical" situations. Furthermore, Brett Myers, upon receiving the magical "C" tattoo on his left ass cheek, will immediately become a great closer because there's no possible way a talented guy could possibly not be suited to short relief roles after spending his entire career starting and he's put up numbers this season that make Russ Ortiz look like Walter Fucking Johnson but who cares about that shit because Myers has the "look" of a great closer, unlike Tom Gordon who I hate because he looks like a nice dude that wouldn't hit his wife on a crowded, public street.

Yes, Steve, it all makes sense to me now. Thank ye.

The Stupidest Thing I've Heard All Day, April 11

Two things, actually. I promise, I'm going to stop pretending that Joe Morgan is a legitimate topic, but there are two of the single funniest, most obtuse things I've ever seen in my life. I am now convinced that Joe Morgan is functionally illiterate, and has his 7-year-old godson answer all the questions "because he knows about those newfangled eletrical keyboards."

Mike (St. Louis): Joe, can you share your favorite Jackie Robinson encounter with us?

Joe Morgan: I guess the one time I met him and had a chance to talk to him. I told him thank you and he smiled and said you're welcome. That's probably my favorite when we had a chance to converse.

I don't know why, but I can't get the image of Joe Morgan being soothed by his wife out of my head. It is a disturbing image.

And then, the most awesome chat response of all time:

Rick H. (Selah, Wa.): Do you think King Felix has a shot at the AL Cy Young this season? Or, will it be another year or two?

Joe Morgan: Dwight Gooden is the best young pitcher I've ever seen. He was better than all of them at a young age.

In the words of Alex Trebeck, "Simply stunning."

You are Mike Scioscia, and I am my father's son

(Note: The majority of this post was written on Tuesday, which should explain why it sounds like it was either written on Tuesday, or that I've gone on another one of my infamous hash binges. Because you know I can't resist the sticky tarry.)

I'm not going to lie: I got roughly 1.5 hours worth of work done yesterday, which is nothing short of a miracle. Have you seen the MLB.tv Mosiac program? It might be a compelling enough setup for me to bypass Extra Innings completely, especially since I can hook up the computer to the TV at home. But at the office is where it really shines; with my two computer setup, I've got one showing games fullscreen, while I'm "working" on the other. Plus, it gave me the all-too-rare opportunity to listen to/swear at Joe Morgan during the day, which is truly the kind of experience one can't put a price tag on. Or, one can put a $120/year price tag on.

Anyway, I finished off the night with the DVRed Ranger/Angels game, and was happy to see that nothing's changed in the offseason for my favorite good manager who still consistently does stupid things, Mike Scioscia.

This was the Angels' opening-day lineup, with each player's career triple slash numbers:

1. Gary Matthews .263/.337/.419
2. Orlando Cabrera .269/.317/.403
3. Vladamir Guerrero .325/.390/.583
4. Garrett Anderson .297/.327/.470
5. Shea Hillenbrand .287/.324/.448
6. Casey Kotchman .231/.303/.355 (.325/.406/.493 in the minors)
7. Howie Kendrick .280/.310/.410 (.361/.401/.570 in the minors)
8. Mike Napoli .229/.360/.454 (can't seem to find minor league stats)
9. Macier Izturis .265/.335/.377

Two things are engrossing about this lineup:

1) No one in the top-half of the lineup, save for Guerrerro, is even modestly competent at getting on base. Matthews is coming off an allegedly HGH-fueled .313/.371/.495 year that has made his career OBP number around league average, but the rest of the hitters are simply terrible when it comes to not making outs. Most tellingly, the player who promises to do the least with his opportunities, Cabrera, is on track to get the second-most at-bats on the team this season. This is inexplicable.

2) Scioscia has one of the craziest, most segregated batting orders I've ever seen here; the entire top half is composed of (mostly bad) veterans, and the entire bottom half is promising young guys, with the possible exception of Kotchman, who's well into his post-prospect days. But he's still way fucking better than Garrett Anderson. And Howie Kendrick is probably the third-best offensive second baseman in the majors already, and he's essentially a rookie. His career minor-league average is three-sixty-fucking-one, Mike Scioscia ... you really think he can't handle the "pressure" of hitting higher in the order? And even if he couldn't, you don't think he'd be better than Cabrera anyway?

I did mean it when I said Scioscia is a good manager -- I especially love the way he handles pitching staffs, and I expect the Angels to lead the AL in every meaningful pitching category this season, and they're definitely the favorite out of the AL West -- but he is pretty fucking retarded sometimes when it comes to handling the offense. Beyond the fact that he's utterly addicted to the hit-and-run (he did it three times Monday night, without it once doing anything useful and twice ruining potentially great run-scoring situations. One strikeout/throwout DP, one FC, and one groundout with the runner advancing to 2nd. Neither commentator editorialized about the relative merit of running in those situations, but did totally go nuts when Mike Napoli's stolen base attempt resulted in a throwing error by the catcher [advancing him to third], which then turned into a run [it goes without saying that Napoli would have been out by 7-12 steps if Laird hadn't squeezed the throw]) he also does crazy things like insist on batting Darrin Erstad second (until this season, obvs) and Garrett Anderson 5th and Orlando Cabrera anywhere but ninth. In essence, when saddled with a roster of aging hitters who would rather club a pup seal on home plate than take a walk and really promising young guys who have at least shown some willingness to not flail at anything within seven inches of the plate, he gives the most at-bats to the out-makers. Yet, for some reason, I like him. He's got great intangibles.

Anyway, neither announced mentioned that it was only mildly crazy that out-machine Orlando Cabrera was batting second, but I'm not sure why. Is it because they've read the thought-provoking essay by James Click in Baseball Between the Numbers on how, statistically speaking, batting order is essentially meaningless in terms of run expectancy? Or is it because they, like Scioscia (presumably), think that the No. 2 spot in the order is the domain of slappy, fast middle infielders, regardless of whether or not the middle infielder in question is actually any good at being a major league baseball hitter? Or is it because they would never consider questioning the wisdom of a manager on-air? I suppose this is a rhetorical question, which means I can't touch it with Justin around.

What made the Cabrera situation all the more interesting is that yesterday was somewhat of a banner day for managers pulling their heads out of their asses w/r/t to the No. 2 spot in the lineup. As noted by Baseball Prospectus' Joe Sheehan, a handful of managers used "non-traditional" guys in the No. 2 hole, including Lyle Overbay, Adam Dunn, Trot Nixon and Russell Martin. What all those guys have in common is that they're high-OBP hitters with some pop. While the number isn't large enough to suggest that managers are becoming more aware of the need to get one's best hitters the most possible at-bats, as opposed to worrying most about speed and avoiding strikeouts, it's heartening.

As mentioned earlier, however, it's not exactly as if the sabermetric community is lying awake at night trying to figure out how to spread the lineup gospel. The conclusion of Click's essay in BBTN is that, the most sub-optimal batting order is probably only 18 runs worse than an optimal one over the course of the season, and that there's no statistical evidence that "protection" in a lineup is really all that important. It's a shame the two were presented in concert, because while one has merit -- "protection" is a myth, as there's no discernible difference in how batters perform based on who's hitting in front of or behind them -- the other is fundamentally flawed.

Take the decision made by Charlie Manuel to switch Utley and Howard in the lineup last night (and perhaps for a while), going Howard-Utley-Burrell in the heart of the order. He was doing it, presumably, to better "protect" Howard. Ultimately, I don't have a massive problem with Manuel's decision in a vacuum, since Howard is a better hitter than Utley (who's also awesome), and I do believe that one's best hitters should be in line to hit most often. But it's not the switch Manuel should have made; he should have swapped Burrell with either Utley or Howard, setting up a L/R/L heart of the order, which would be a huge boon to Burrell. Why? Platoon splits, friends.

Burrell vs. RH: .256/.362/.475
Burrell vs. LH: .296/.432/.526

Those are some draw-dropping spreads right there, which fits right in with Justin's Eureka! observation that he can't remember the last time Pat Burrell hit a slider away. So, if you know that you have a valuable hitter who becomes immensely more valuable when there's a southpaw on the mound, wouldn't you do whatever you could to put him in a situation where he'll actually get to hit off lefties? 3 out of 5 non-lobotomized humans agree this would be a preferable strategy; guess which camp Manuel falls into.

I realize this is getting long (and probably impossible to follow) but the point is that lineup construction is actually very important, provided you understand that everything's a matter of context. If the Phillies are facing a team that's starting a right-hander, and doesn't have any lefties in the pen, then it's probably costing the Phillies in the long-run to sandwich Burrell between Howard and Utley (or Utley and Howard ... it should be 2-3-4 with those guys anyway, but we all know that Victorino would have to hit like Mario Mendoza to lose the No. 2 hole, because he's fast). But those teams really don't exist anymore; in the age of LOOGYs and 13-man pitching staffs (The Orioles broke camp with thirteen fucking pitchers this season!), an added emphasis has been placed on removing potential gambits from the toolbox of other managers. This is particularly the case with the Phillies, who feature two young left-handed sluggers that actually fare fairly well against lefties; if Manuel sandwiched Burrell in there, the decision to bring in a LOOGY to face the heart of the order goes from mildly profitable to suicidal. Furthermore, Manuel would be setting up Burrell to actually have some eye-catching success, instead of ensuring that Burrell won't see a left-handed reliever for pretty much the rest of the season.

(Props to Sheehan, again, who touched on the Phillies' situation at BP, and started me thinking about the ramifications of Manuel's decision with his quick take on the matter)

I know what you're thinking: Diesel needs a broad, because he just wrote close to 3,000 words on batting orders. All I can say in return is that broad or no broad, it's this kind of trenchant analysis you should be demanding from me this season. Where else are you going to get this kind of shit? Not on Four Weeks with the fucking Commies, that's for goddamn sure.

There's a Steve Phillips chat taking place as I write. I am overjoyed.