Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baseball. Show all posts

Thursday, February 28, 2008

The First Annual TGWNA Baseball Preseason Roundtable Opinion Session

We here at TGWNA have never been committed to offering our readers the finest in online content, but our New Year's resolution was to actually make this site worth reading. So, we decided to get actual, interesting baseball minds to write stuff for the blog! Welcome to the First Annual TWGNA Roundtable! I don't know why any of these people have decided to risk their reputation by being associated with this decrepit site, but it's amazing what people will do when you just ask.

The responses have been better than I could have ever imagined, to be sure. In addition to the fact that we have some seriously smart contributors, the answers represent a pretty wide cross-section of baseball opinions. Thanks very, very much to those who participated, and I hope the rest of you have as much fun reading this as I have.

Our panelists are:

John Brattain is a regular contributor to The Hardball Times and, in this blogger's estimation, one of the the most thoughtful and entertaining baseball columnists in the business. He's never been at a loss for words, except for that one time the Jays went and re-upped John McDonald, and his .227 EqA, for two more years and almost $2 million per. The Hardball Times Season Preview 2008 is available now, by the way.

Craig Calcaterra is better known as Shyster, perhaps the most tireless baseball blogger on the interwebs. When he's not posting something on the order of six items a day, he also claims to be a member of the Ohio bar and a working lawyer (citation needed). A Braves fan, Craig hopes to one day help Mark Lemke sue David Eckstein for trademark infringement.

Connor Doyle — or Diesel — is the co-founder of this blog and a former sports writer in Idaho. He quit the "biz" about three years into his career when he felt the desire to do something even more financially irresponsible that writing for a living, and moved to Italy for a short period of time before finally going broke. He now works as a lackluster accountant and harasses his friends on AOL Instant Messenger all day.

Ryan Finley is a graduate of the renowned University of Arizona School of Journalism and sports writer for the Arizona Daily Star in Tucson, Ariz. A native of San Diego, Finley is getting married in a couple of months and has promised (or threatened, depending on your perspective) to name his first child Gwynn, regardless of gender (how many names come with a .305 EqA?).

Colin Laisure-Pool goes by Big C around these parts, and he wants you to know the sport we should really be talking about is F1 racing. Or something. Anyway, Colin's still a little bit of a baseball neophyte, but has sort of been worn down in the last year or so by Diesel's constant prattling about the "scientific beauty" of America's Pastime and has since celebrated his 20th game watched during last year's Game 4 of the World Series. Mazel tov!

Voros McCracken is a legend in sabermetric circles for discovering that pitchers had little control over what happened to batted balls put in play, perhaps the last great Eureka! moment we'll ever have in baseball analysis. DIPS (Defense-Independent Pitching Statistics) have become something of a Rorschach Test for the way people see the game, as there's perhaps no idea in baseball analysis that creates as much guffawing from the old school. After a three-year stint as a black ops agent for the Red Sox, he's returned to the blogosphere and now writes for the Baseball Digest Daily. Also, he's the only one of our panelists with his own Wikipedia entry.

Jason Rosenberg is the author of the blog It IS About the Money, Stupid, the platform upon which he unleashes a daily fusillade of anti-hypocrisy rants that warm the cockles of Diesel's heart. Unfortunately, Jason is also a Yankees fan, which means that all the good deeds of the world will never stop him from ending up here. We kid, Jason; you can't be that bad of a guy, because you accept the fact that Jeter is absolute death going to his left.

Justin St. Germain is a former college sportswriter and current Wallace Stegner Fellow in fiction writing at Stanford University. Justin cops to knowing the least about baseball of anyone on our panel, although that doesn't mean he's above telling everyone else they're wrong (he tells me this all the time, and it's never true). For real, though, you can see one of Justin's published stories here, and here's the website for the Stanford creative writing program. Classy!

Pete Toms is a writer for Baseball Digest Daily, a gig he scored not too long ago thanks to his always excellent SOC work on his now somewhat dormant blog, A Baseball Geek. A native of Ottawa, Ontario, Pete is both more cultured and polite than anyone who has ever uttered words in this blog before. Also, he is more than willing to admit that he does, indeed, work out of a basement.

Geoff Young is the man behind legendary Padres blog Ducksnorts and author of the Ducksnorts annual, unquestionably the most entertaining and edifying team-centric annual publication in sports (I know this sounds like faint praise, but really, I've already purchased a copy for myself and one as a gift; it's great stuff). Geoff is also a semi-regular contributor to The Hardball Times and a snappy dresser.

And here are the questions:

Bud Selig asks you for two suggestions. Provided you don't ask him to resign, what ideas do you promote?

Brattain: First, get rid of interleague play and get both leagues into a balanced schedule. Put everybody on the same playing field insofar as playoff races go. Second, revenue sharing subsidies should go into a fund that the receiving team cannot touch unilaterally. Clubs can save up from year to year if they’'re building towards a playoff run and blow the wad then. In the meantime, a club can invoice the fund when they make a purchase/sign a player/draft pick so they have access to the money. Let'’s get rid of leaving revenue sharing to the discretion of the team receiving it.

Calcaterra: As a lawyer I spend too much time focusing on rules, but I'm going to make kind of boring, rulesy suggestions anyway: First I'd ask him to abolish interleague play. The games were a nice novelty for a while, but I'd prefer to going back to the leagues not knowing that much about each other until the World Series. Even worse, now that teams within a division are playing different interleague schedules, it's unfairly impacting pennant races. For the same reason, I'd suggest either going back to the balanced schedule or eliminating the wild card.

Second, I'd have him order the umpires to enforce Rule 8.04: "When the bases are unoccupied, the pitcher shall deliver the ball to the batter within 12 seconds after he receives the ball. Each time the pitcher delays the game by violating this rule, the umpire shall call 'Ball.'"

The games are too long, especially in the playoffs. I've been watching a lot of 1970s and 1980s games on tape recently, and I was shocked at how bad the time in between pitches has gotten. While this rule is aimed at being punitive to the pitchers, its enforcement will also cut down on batter baloney (adjusting gloves, hats, nuts, etc.). Let's just play some ball already.

Doyle: I'm going to keep it down to one because it's going to be a little long: I would suggest blowing up the current revenue-sharing system, which is perpetuating the ability of bad owners to continue making substantial profits without concerning themselves about the product on the field. There's nothing more repulsive than billionaires collecting welfare checks, but that's essentially what happens now. Instead of handing out the money to teams, make them come and justify the need for it. Better yet, make them match any contributions from the revenue sharing pool out of their own pocket, as a way of ensuring that the money is being used to better the product instead of ensure profits for an otherwise unsustainable product.

OK, I lied: I'd also suggest he end the entire draft slot charade.

Finley: I actually think history will reflect kindly on Bud Selig. For all the PED/All-Star game bleating, Selig has ushered in an era of popularity and financial stability not seen in decades. Three of Selig’s most visible changes — the wild card, interleague play and realignment — have been major hits with average fans, if not necessarily the minority that considers themselves traditionalists. That said, here’s what I’d change:

1. Eliminate best-of-five playoff series in the first round. Any fan worth his latest installment of “BP” will tell you larger sample sizes are a better gauge of success, a fact that should be considered given it’s the, you know, playoffs. Extending the first round to a traditional best-of-seven format would give fans a chance to enjoy the depth and complexity of a traditional playoff series while extending the season by three days, tops.

2. Limit pickoffs to two attempts per base runner per inning. Imagine how the game would change with the elimination of the “courtesy throw”: Games would move faster, runners would take more larger leads and steal more, and pitchers would probably rely more on pitchouts — for my money, one of the most exciting plays in sports — to get potential base-stealers out. More importantly, a pickoff limit would reintroduce speedsters, players who have been pushed to the margins with the advent of “Moneyball”-style management decisions and the rise of obscene power numbers at traditionally slappy positions.

Laisure-Pool: No. 1, I would suggest that he move as swift as humanly possible concerning the whole PED dust-up. Baseball needs to admit its culpability and re-engineer their lax policies and practices. Although I do believe that, in the short term, this is bringing attention to the sport, I also believe that the long-term effects of a long, protracted process will damage Major League Baseball's reputation permanently and irreparably. The 'train-wreck effect' will attract a number of one-timers, but the overall process is alienating an entire group of die-hards. Case in point: the last round of player's strikes. My father, a rather devout Giants fan, was turned-off to the sport for good after those strikes, which in no small part contributed to the tapering of my interest in baseball, as well. This is a cancer that will eventually kill the sport if left unchecked.

No. 2, Continue and stimulate further the process of making the sport more accessible to working class fans. One should be able to go to a game, park within a 1/2 mile, get good seats (not nose-bleeds), eat a dog or whatever, and have a few beers for under $40. I understand that a baseball team is a business and not a public service, but when my tax dollars are used to fund a stadium, I want to be able to enjoy the fruits of my labors. Lower ticket and concession prices, and I guarantee more interest in even the most mediocre of teams. It is already a widespread perception that MLB is a sport played by pampered, uncaring millionaires and owned by greedy, nefarious billionaires. However right or wrong that perception is is secondary to the fact that the quickest and most effective way to remedy MLB's image is to put butts in seats.

McCracken: 1. Abandon the organized minors. 2. Institute a promotion and relegation scheme.

Rosenberg: First, I’d change some rules regarding the All Star game. I’d eliminate mandatory representation by every team, unless rosters expand to 32-35 to account for the expansion over the years. I’d also eliminate the “World Series” home field advantage bonus; it’s just an exhibition.

There are many subtle rules changes that I’d want to see changed to speed up the pace of the game but the main ones I’d propose would be a stricter enforcement of the “pitch clock”. Get on the hill or in the box or it’s an automatic strike or ball depending on the guilty party. I’d also change the rule requiring pitching 4 balls on an intentional walk. Call the intentional walk and send the runner to first. This is not Little League.

But my main “platform” involves making the game more kid-friendly. To do this, I’d make all Playoff and All Star games to begin at 7pm EST during the weekend and 6pm on week nights. This will be challenged by the West Coasters understandably but games cannot end after 11pm EST. No playoff games on the weekends will be scheduled during the evening. During the season, after every weekend day game, all kids 12 and under will be allowed to run the bases. I’d also give every kid 12 and under a raffle ticket upon admission to every game. Draw 10 tickets each game and the winners get to meet one player after the game. Can you imagine the impact this would have, to actually run the bases or meet a real ballplayer? Talk about building a lifetime connection to the game!

St. Germain: No. 1: Trim interleague play — there's got to be some way to still let the Cubs/Sox and Mets/Yankees play a few games a year without subjecting us to Royals/Pirates and Nats/A's. And then there's the whole unfairness when it comes to the Wild Card. It's just too much.

No. 2: Do away with the All-Star game/home field thing. It's the stupidest sports gimmick since the puck streak.

And then get rid of the DH and contract the Devil Rays, and we're good. I'm not kidding about either one. (Yes, I still call them the Devil Rays, and yes, I could expand on this contraction thing, but this is probably not the place nor time.)

Toms: No. 1: Steroids are good. Bigger, faster, stronger is what we all want. No. 2: Find new ownership for Pittsburgh. Post current CBA, the Rays & Royals have started to try to win (FLA should start trying soon). Pittsburgh's ownership continues to stuff all the revenue sharing/central fund money into its pockets. President Frank Coonelly & GM Neal Huntington, for all the adoration they received from the baseball media this offseason, won’t change this.

Young: No. 1: Make the All-Star game meaningless again. It was more fun that way. Plus, I don't want someone on the Pirates determining who gets home-field advantage in the World Series. No. 2: Find a way to get rid of the anti-trust exemption, and generally be more honest with your customers.

What's the one thing you don't think the industry is doing enough of, on the whole?

Brattain: Fixing the amateur draft. As mentioned earlier, keep revenue sharing subsidies away from receiving clubs until they need it. They could use this money to nab the top picks. That’'s a short-term solution. Over the longer term, they should come up with a different compensation scheme for teams losing free agents like a de facto Rule 5 pick for a Type A free agent. However, they don'’t have to keep the player drafted on the 25-man roster, giving them time to let him develop in the minors. That way, you de-link the draft rules from the MLBPA since it doesn'’t affect major league players, and they can put in hard slot money and larger consequences for going unsigned after being drafted without raising the ire of the union.

Calcaterra: Trusting its product. I went to a Padres game last summer and was absolutely shocked at how much singing, dancing, clowning, and general farting around goes on between innings. It's as if the people running the game are worried that all of the casual fans they've managed to attract over the past few years will simply go away the moment they aren't being assaulted with entertainment. Maybe some will, but do you really want to base your business around customers who are that damn fickle?

Doyle: Looking within for new stadiums. I think the fallout in communities from rigged stadium deals — and pretty much every one has been rigged — has really hurt the popularity of the product in most places over the long haul. To piggyback off my revenue-sharing rant, this is precisely the type of thing that could be paid for by baseball if it stops lining Carl Pohlad's pockets with other teams' profits. MLB could set up a below-market lending service for owners looking to improve or build stadiums, which is a good deal for everyone involved (except the owners who would be deprived of the current bounty of free money).

Finley: Finding, and promoting, the game’s next great managers. Face it, baseball is the only major league sport that continues to promote the “you can’t get a job without experience, but you can’t get experience without a job” philosophy to find its most important, and visible, on-field coaches. Major-league manager jobs come open about as frequently as Supreme Court spots, and most are filled by retreads.

Laisure-Pool: See Part 2 of Question 1. Baseball is our national pastime because it is a sport of the everyman. You don't have to be 7 feet tall or be built from 300 pounds of solid rock to be a good baseball player. As the game advances, bigger, faster, and stronger players are coming to the forefront for sure; but baseball is like no other major professional sport in its ability to produce players that their fans can relate to. This is a big part of the reason why the PED issue is ripping the sport to shreds in the eyes of the common viewer. Baseball needs to take a heavy-handed approach to stop the bleeding on this issue, stat.

McCracken: Besides paying me money? Incentivizing success on the field for "small-market" teams.

Rosenberg: As you can probably tell, one of my biggest “issues” lies within MLB’s ignoring of the kids with respect to game start times. This is most prevalent and important for the “showcase” games, including the all star game and the entire post season. Kids need to be more engaged with the ballplayers and the game. By allowing them to run the bases after every weekend day game will build an instant bond with the game. This can also be done by randomly selecting some number of kids (say 10) to meet a ballplayer after the game. Kids will not care who it is, just that they got to meet a real major leaguer. If that player gave each kid an autographed ball, all the better. It’s easy, it’s cheap and it’s the right thing to do to get kids re-invested in MLB. (Note to Brian Cashman: If you want me to come on board to help you with this, let me know! I’m ready and just 15 minutes away!)

St. Germain: Maintaining a competitive professional sports league. I know, I know, the World Series hasn't been very predictable this decade, but you've still got fans in eight or ten cities who go into Opening Day knowing their teams have zero shot at making the playoffs, much less the Series. The Rays -- who should have never existed in the first place -- might not finish above fourth place for another ten years. Maybe revenue sharing is the answer, and it just needs more time, but I'm not sold on it yet.

The NFL has kicked MLB's ass in the ring of public opinion for a lot of reasons, but parity's a big one. Even if you're a Raiders fan, you still went to the Super Bowl recently, and could conceivably be competitive next season. How do you justify going on as a Royals fan?

Toms: Shortening game times. Sandy Alderson did make some progress in this regard, but it seems to have gone by the boards. I think we’re currently just under 3 hours typically? No matter how it’s done — mound height, strike zone, deader ball — you have to decrease run scoring to speed it up substantially. I think the trade-off would be OK. Most of us don’t have 3 hour windows to watch uninterrupted, and at the ballpark I think fans would prefer 2.5 hours to 3. Fans like offense, but I think they would be more appreciative of a quicker game.

Young: Being honest with its customers. The Average Joe doesn't want to hear some corporate entity complaining about financial losses while at the same time refusing to divulge actual numbers.

Whom is the one player you're most excited to see play this season?

Brattain: Dustin McGowan. He was a long time coming due to Tommy John surgery on his right elbow. Nevertheless, he has Roy Halladay-level stuff and he took a big leap forward once he realized that he could get major league hitters out with it. In his earlier cups of coffee, he gave opposing hitters too much credit, tended to nibble at the edges, and walked too many hitters. He'’s had the epiphany where he realized ‘My stuff is nasty!’ and has thrown accordingly.

Calcaterra: Kosuke Fukudome. Who knows how accurate the scouting reports are, but if he is as advertised – good plate discipline, moderate power, a little speed, solid defense – he'll be one of those all-around players I'm such a sucker for.

Doyle: Justin Upton. The world of scouting is a minefield of hyperbole, but there's something about this kid that makes it seem like he really could live up to the hype. It's heartening, also, that his brother has made the leap (or so we think). Upton is the ultimate canvas on which prospect aficionados can paint their wildest fantasies; he could do almost anything this year, and it really wouldn't be surprising.

Finley: Delmon Young. Young didn’t quite live up to expectations as a rookie in 2007, but he played in all 162 games, hit 13 home runs and had 93 RBIs, and posted an OPS in the mid-.700s. He led all AL rookies in seven offensive categories, and finished second in ROY voting. By my count, Young can only benefit from the offseason trade that bounced him from Tampa’s all-too-crowded outfield to Minnesota, where the media/public pressure will be nonexistent. Lost in the race to step over Young to crown another young star — Justin Upton is last year’s Chris Young, etc. — is the fact that Delmon is only 22 years old. Assuming he can stay out of trouble, Young will be the last great player to roam the Metrodome and face of the Twins franchise heading into their new ballpark.

Laisure-Pool: Eric Byrnes. That guy better deliver.

McCracken: Alex Gordon.

Rosenberg: Joba Chamberlain. A bit of a homer call but I want to see what he can do over an entire season. He was incredibly exciting to watch in limited action last year so I’m excited to see how he continues to develop.

Aside from guys on my hometown team, I want to see if Ryan Braun can match or better his 5 month blitzkrieg from last year.

St. Germain: I'm not sure if I'm supposed to pick a prospect or just anybody, but, barring Bonds or Rocket coming to town with a visiting team, I guess I'd have to say Ichiro. I've never lived within driving distance of an AL team, but I recently moved to the Bay Area, so if I can go see the most singular talent in the majors play in a surprisingly good stadium for baseball that has a wide variety of cheapish beer, seats that are plentiful and affordable, and easy public transit access ... well, sign me up.

Toms: Justin Upton. Bruce and Longoria are the current “it” prospects, and I don’t doubt they are deserving of the acclaim. But I think J. Upton has more raw talent than anybody.

Young: Johan Santana. I've only seen him once on TV, and now that he's in the National League, I'm hoping I'll get to catch him in person when the Mets come to San Diego.

What's the one thing that stands out the most to you about all the PED hand-wringing this offseason?

Brattain: The hypocrisy. Back in 2000, I got to work the inside of major league clubhouses for the first time. I was surprised at how many guys looked suspiciously like roiders (I have known a great many users in my lifetime). It was obvious even to a hack like me. However, the media was fearful of the players and of losing their access. I can understand this, but surely you can tip off some investigative journalist about the situation rather than remain mute.

Now that others blew the lid off the story, they'’ve become Rambo-like tough guys protecting the game from the dirty rotten cheaters. Give me a break; they were as complicit as the owners, the union and everyone else. They have no right to scream about protecting the sanctity of the game.

Calcaterra: How willing so many people are to conclude that the Mitchell Report is infallible. If you believe most sports writers, everyone mentioned in the report is a rotten cheater, and everyone not mentioned is as pure as the driven snow. If you think there weren't dozens of PED users surprised to see their names not mentioned you're crazy, so how about toning down the demonization of those who were?

Doyle: That America — led by the media's chosen opinion-makers — is still addicted to irrational moral codes that collapse under the weight of any scrutiny.

Finley: That taking HGH will get you into Sports Illustrated, even if it’s only the swimsuit issue.

Lasiure-Pool: The scope and intensity of the coverage/attention astonishes me. Congressional inquiries? Good lord. This is particularly striking after one considers the fact that the press/public has turned its back to this issue for so long. Why now? And why so doggedly pursue a problem that has existed in relative obscurity for decades?

The second half of this debacle is MLB's reaction, which seems slow, uncertain, and weak. It is my perception that Mr. Selig is doing about the worst job imaginable vis-à-vis damage control on this issue, and is doing little or nothing to assuage the suddenly rankled fanbase that serves as the sport's lifeblood.

McCracken: How easily people convince themselves that their outrage over the issue is more common in the public than it really is.

Rosenberg: How incredibly unnecessary and self-inflicted it all was/is. Selig didn’t have to commission the Mitchell Report. In addition, Clemens’ predicament is also seemingly self-inflicted with his apparent lying to a Congressional Committee. Clemens could have simply given the same excuse as Pettitte (“I did it to recover from injury”), gone quiet for some period of time, and go about his private life. He would have been a pariah for a while and likely never made the HOF, but if he took his celebrity and set out on an anti-steroids campaign, he’d be so much better off. Mark McGwire’s efforts to help the anti-steroids campaign rival OJ’s efforts to find the real killer, after all.

St. Germain: The fact that it took the Mitchell report for anybody in the media to acknowledge the likelihood that Roger Clemens was a roider. If there was one player's performance to suspect over the last ten years — as much or more even than McGwire, Sosa, and Barry — it was Clemens.

Toms: The over-reporting. Fans don’t care; It’s a media and baseball chattering classes subject. The overwhelming number of the 80 million-plus who will go to games this season wouldn’t know Radomski from Hardin. The fans who pay the freight want a win for the home team, ballpark food, good weather, beer (of any kind) and a 6-4-3. Ironically those of us who most care abut the PED subject are the people least likely to abandon the product over any matter.

Recently the HGH issue seems to be getting more play. I think it’s a non subject because HGH is not effective; I think the juice is what works. I suspect management and the MLBPA think this too and as a result the union will make some “concessions” on HGH.

Young: The fact that it makes everyone look stupid on so many levels.

Who do you consider to be the most invaluable person in baseball?

Brattain: I would have to say MLB President & COO Bob Dupuy. He'’s Selig'’s tough guy that gets to issue ultimatums about the dire consequences that will befall a community should they not cough up a half billion dollars of corporate welfare. He reminds me of a toothless Rottweiler that folks don'’t seem to realize lacks teeth. Politicos quiver in fear when he arrives at the Legislature, never realizing that he really has no leverage. Washington D.C. has a team and the only available facility for a major league team is in Montreal. Where is a team gonna go? He sounds like the spineless parent who tells his little boy or girl that if they don'’t do what they'’re told, the next warning will be even more dire and “You don’t want that to happen do you?”

It doesn'’t take a lot of skill to issue empty threats, but that’'s generally all you hear him do anymore.

Calcaterra: MLBAM CEO Bob Bowman. If I would have told you a few years ago that baseball would have the kind of online presence – not to mention revenue – it has today, you'd have told me I was crazy. As late as 2002, most baseball executives thought using PowerPoint during arbitration hearings was as state-of-the-art as it got. Now baseball owns online sports.

Doyle: The Padres fan in me wants to say Kevin Towers, but I have to conclude — as the Diamondbacks obviously did this offseason — that it's Josh Byrnes. While it's easy to say he's just a Theo clone, the difference is that Byrnes is playing with fire every time he makes a move, because the Snakes don't have the financial clout to fade bad decisions, whereas the Sox do. With the exception of the Eric Byrnes extension — which probably isn't as awful as people like me make it out to be — he really hasn't misstepped once while making some pretty ballsy moves (or, non-moves, like letting fan favorite Luis Gonzalez walk). Plus, the fact that he now has the kind of job security few GMs in the history of the sport have enjoyed means that he can truly take the kind of bold steps needed to ensure the franchise's viability for the next decade in a rather inhospitable market.

Finley: Omar Minaya. The Mets’ GM continues to raise the bar when it comes to salary negotiations and player acquisition. Johan Santana may be his biggest fish yet.

Laisure-Pool: Bud Selig, of course. I can think of no one else who carries such sway over the sport.

McCracken: Alex Rodriguez.

Rosenberg: I’m not a huge Selig basher, and while I think as long as he’s Commissioner he’s the most important, that doesn’t make him the most invaluable (which I define as irreplaceable). I don’t think anyone is irreplaceable. I think the most invaluable person in baseball is the one who stands up to the Union and demands change in their stance regarding PEDs. Who that is, I am not exactly sure. I wish Jeter’s comments recently about blood testing were more assertive and definitive, but he’s not going to go that far. Not his style. Who is the conscience of the league? Who can force change even against the CBA? Can’t be Selig; it needs to come from within the players’ ranks, against the advice of Donald Fehr.

St. Germain: George Steinbrenner (and his progeny). Nobody in baseball has affected the current state of the game as much. For the worse, most would argue, but damned if the guy doesn't make things interesting. Now that Barry's (probably) gone, is there a better villain in the game?

Toms: Bud Selig. I’m in a very small minority here, but I think he’s done a great job. With the expiration of the CBA in 2011, we will have had 16 straight seasons of labor peace. There is NOTHING more important than that, and don’t underestimate how hard that is. The NHL not so recently lost an entire season, and keep your eyes on the ownership politics in the NFL. There has also been a lot of franchise stability; nobody’s moved, save the Expos. A ton of better, (as in better fan experience) ballparks have been built as well. It is a golden age. The only thing baseball fans love more than baseball is complaining about baseball. Back to Bud, who gives a shit that there was a tie All Star game? I don’t like the Wild Card or interleague or the unbalanced schedule. But again, I’m not typical of the 80 million; I think most like all those things.

Young: The fans. MLB must never forget that. Without us, MLB doesn't exist.

What non-favorite team of yours are you most interested in this season?

Brattain: Tampa Bay. They’'ve been assembling a tremendous cache of talent down there and they'’re starting to fine-tune things and address specific needs. They'’re in a difficult division, to be sure, but they'’re getting close. Barring a wave of injuries or a bunch of inept trades, they may make some noise this year and will be ready to make a major move in 2009. I think this could be the first season with a winning record for the franchise — quite an accomplishment in view of its checkered history.

Calcaterra: The Royals. I used to watch Trey Hillman manage the Columbus Clippers at a time when the Yankees had no one worth a damn in the high minors. Hillman made those awful teams look pretty good. The Royals certainly aren't there talent-wise, yet, so they'll provide a pretty good lab to see how much difference a decent manager can make.

Doyle: My initial answer is the Rays, but I have a feeling that the Diamondbacks are going to be the most compelling team in the majors this season, for many of the same reasons that people will pick the Rays. There's so much to like about the way this club has been built, and outside of the Mets, it's the only NL team I could see being able to hold its own in the American League and still fight for a playoff spot. In fact, even after the Johan signing, I think the D'Backs are still the team to beat in the NL, and they're young and exciting to boot.

Finley: The Nationals. The ex-‘Pos are proving that you don’t need to have a large budget — or a minor-league system, or an experienced manager, or a capable pitching staff — in order to be noteworthy. Jim Bowden continues to launch half-court shots (mixed metaphor alert) as Washington’s GM, with Elijah Dukes, Lastings Milledge, Wily Mo Peña and a cast of thousands (a few hundred of them being Boones) competing for spots in a clubhouse straight out of “Major League.” The anticipated return of Nick Johnson, the fate of Dmitri Young and the disastrous catching situation should make the Nats either exciting to watch — or fun to watch lose.

Laisure-Pool: The Tampa Bay Devil Rays. I've heard promising things about them (read: Diesel says they'll be good), so I want to see if they will be worthy of the dap. Also, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Is it even possible that that team will ever even be competitive?

McCracken: Pittsburgh Pirates. I think they have a chance to surprise this year. Well, probably not, but it's a weak division and for the first time in years I don't see any glaring holes in their lineup.

Rosenberg: They are becoming overhyped underdogs already, but I want to see what Tampa Bay can do this year and next. Can they finally make the leap? Besides them, I’m really excited to see what the Brewers can become. Great young talent there and it should be fun to watch.

St. Germain: This isn't the most interesting or thoughtful response, but either the A's or the Giants. Both teams are going through really interesting transitions, and both will be horrendous. But I can be at either stadium in half an hour, and I have no job this summer, so ... have I mentioned how much I love Stanford?

Toms: I think the Reds have a legit shot at the playoffs. I’m kinda pulling for them because they have a Canadian guy – first baseman Joey Votto – and I would like to see Junior in the playoffs. Junior has never gotten his due, both on and off the field. The Cubs will have to disappoint for the Reds to win, however.

Young: The Rays. There's some tremendous young talent in Tampa Bay, and it would be nice to see that franchise finally get on track.

What's the one annoying thing you hope this season will be the swan song for?

Brattain: Scott Boras. Kenny Rogers fired him, Alex Rodriguez isn'’t speaking to him, he has a number of clients still unsigned. Granted, he just picked up Manny Ramirez, but I’'d really like to see his empire crumble. It’'s not so much the contracts he gets his major league clients, but I'’m sick an tired of his being the 800 lb. gorilla in the room at every amateur draft. His influence has ruined the whole concept of giving the worst teams the first crack at the best talent. Boras has the elite prospects fall down to where teams like the Red Sox and Yankees are waiting.

Many people wonder how these clubs keep coming up with these great kids when they usually draft near the bottom. Well, Scott Boras is the reason. There should never be ‘signability issues’ with the draft.

Calcaterra: The Yankees' second-half rebounds. For once I'd like them to stay dead after everyone pronounces them as such in May. It's not that I hate the Yankees so much (just a little) as much as I am tired of the "They're dead! They're alive! They're dangerous! They choked!" storyline. I want the Yankees to either be dominant or doormats. Leave the in-between stuff to everyone else.

Doyle: Baseball's anti-trust exemption. Like most, I'm very much against the insane level of interaction between the feds and baseball lately, but I've also been excited by the prospect of the legislators finally thwacking baseball with the stick it's been threatening to use this entire time. Not only is there no need for the exemption — it is impossible for an upstart league to unseat MLB at this point — but it's given baseball the mistaken impression that it somehow deserves a governmental loophole (or that it's fine for Peter Angelos to block the Nationals unless he gets a kickback). Make MLB compete on the same playing field as every other major business in America; no one's going to try an monopoly-bust a sports league at this point in time.

Finley: Everybody harbors one wildly unpopular sports take, and this one’s mine: Stop it with the national anthem and “God Bless America” already, unless an American team is playing the Blue Jays or two American teams are playing on foreign soil. My distaste for both songs has less to do with a lack of patriotism and more to do with the train wreck that inevitably comes when an aspiring pop star/barber shop quartet/opera singer tries to put his/her own stamp on time-honored songs. Save it for the demo tapes.

Laisure-Pool: Roger Clemens' and Barry Bonds' careers. I don't even say this in a spiteful way; I just feel that it is time for each of these gentlemen to exit stage right. Both have made their imprints, broken records, and left their legacies. For better or worse, it's time to go. Whatever they can contribute to a team at this stage in their careers will be outweighed by the burden of their infamy.

McCracken: Around the Horn.

Rosenberg: Do I have to pick just one? So many things annoy me that I’d like to see gone for good, including: “Manny being Manny,” Congressional hearings involving baseball, mandatory representation in the All Star game, pink Red Sox hats, the Marlins, Fox broadcasts, Carl Pavano, and discussing how players are “reporting in the best shape of their lives."

St. Germain: The furor and media attention surrounding Barry Bonds. I've had enough of the hypocrisy.

Toms: Tony LaRussa. What a pompous, arrogant ass. He pisses me off way more than Bonds. At least Bonds was great at something; why has LaRussa been deified?

Young: Same as every year: The Wave.

What kind of contract are you offering Bonds right now if you're the GM of a team that can reasonably say it's bordering on contention?

Brattain: I’ would offer Bonds a guaranteed $8 million or $1 million for every 10 games played, whichever is higher. If he gets hurt or is fitted for non-Yankee pinstripes, he'’s guaranteed that $8 mil’; if he gets into 150 games then he makes $15 million.

Calcaterra: One year, $4.5M with some plate appearance incentives, and an opt-out clause in the event his bail is revoked.

Doyle: One year, $5 million base, with $1 million added for every 10 games played over 100. Bonus of $2 million if his WARP3 is greater than five.

Finley: It depends. Most of this year’s contenders have legitimate, if not comparable, players in left field, and the ones with left-field issues — the Padres, Braves, etc. — aren’t too keen on taking on Bonds’ baggage and pending legal issues. Assuming that signing Bonds would make my contending team better — and that’s a big if, given the reasons stated above and Bonds’ pending legal issues — I’d offer a basic 1-year, $1 million contract with incentives based solely on home run production.

By adding $1 million to his deal for every 10 home runs hit, I would be assured Bonds is swinging for the fences — and isn’t that why any team would want to employ the game’s home run champ, anyway? — every time he comes to the plate. I would also let the public in on every detail of the contract, especially the homer-based escalators. Face it, most fans would embrace Bonds if they knew he was coming out of his shoes on every hittable pitch.

Laisure-Pool: I would go all The Price is Right and offer one dollar more than the highest bidder. Really, though, it's hard to say. I definitely have the perception that he is somewhat diminished in his abilities, and somewhat of a clubhouse cancer/media circus risk. He's certain to be an asset for many teams, but I don't see him getting any more than Eric Byrnes money.

McCracken: Depends on the team. I don't think he's overly useful to all that many teams. Most teams in contention have good-hitting/poor-defense players available at places like DH and LF. One year at maybe $3.5 or $4 million might work. I mean, he is 43, and though he hit well last year, decline tends to get steeper and steeper at these ages.

Rosenberg: $5M guaranteed, with $1M bonuses at 400, 500, 550 and 600 at bats (including walks, naturally). Full protection for each game missed due to legal issues. Fully voidable if found guilty.

St. Germain: Well, the short answer is, no kind of contract, because I'd want to be the GM of an NL team, and the guy isn't a viable outfielder at this point. I also wouldn't want the media circus in my clubhouse.

But as a hitter he's still clearly worth some cash. It's hard to give a dollar amount, but it would be a one-year, incentive-heavy deal. I mean, if Barry plays 140 games (not likely), he's worth $12-$15M, easy. But if he gets less than 200 ABs as a DH, maybe $5-$7M? I'd try to guarantee him no more than $4M and make the rest dependent on ABs or games.

And of course there'd have to be an out clause in case he winds up in the joint.

Toms: Bill Bavasi should offer Bonds a blank cheque. I think the Mariners have a shot. As has been oft stated, he would be an immense improvement over Vidro at DH (And I like Vidro, as I got to see him play a lot of AAA here).

Young: This is probably an unpopular stance, but if my team is bordering on contention I'd prefer to find ways to improve that don't involve creating unnecessary distraction.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Blackballed


Barry Bonds will likely not be in anyone's camp for Spring Training this season. I have seen some strange, strange things in my life as a sports fan, but I don't think I've ever seen an athlete who remains this valuable not get a shot with someone.

It may seem like I'm being purposely obtuse by expressing any measure of shock at this development, but it's a sign of my almost inexcusable hope in the human race that I am still cowed by the stupidity present in industry groupthink. The fact that Bonds isn't in someone's camp right now makes no more sense than giving a multi-million dollar severance package to a CEO who has bled his shareholders dry, but it has happened nonetheless. Perhaps the capitalists were wrong to think that financial incentive was enough to encourage the majority of people to utilize rational thought.

I've spent the last couple of days truly amazed at the glee the media is taking with the entire Bonds saga. If it's not windbags like Ken Rosenthal trying to compare Bonds' "indiscretions" to actual crimes against human beings, it's the media's dogged hounding of any team official from any team that dares to even be obvious and state that having the guy in the lineup might not be the worst thing ever.

ESPN's Rob Neyer poo-pooed the idea that Bonds' was being actively blackballed by owners and GMs, though perhaps only in terms of a strict definition of the term:

Has Bonds been blackballed? I don't think so. That term suggests conspiracy. I don't see one, nor have I heard any hint of one. As I think I mentioned recently in this space, there's a key piece of information to which we're not privy (at least not yet): How much does he want? I believe that if Bonds were willing to sign for nothing (i.e. just a few million bucks) he could find himself a roster spot.


I, too, doubt there's any kind of organization behind the efforts to keep Bonds out of baseball this year, but I nonetheless feel that Bonds is being informally blackballed, if only by a media that's made it clear they're going to make life hell for anyone who breaks rank on this thing. Believe me, when someone as generally congenial as Ken Rosenthal — we're talking about the Andy Katz of baseball here — starts mentioning Kobe Bryant's rape case in the same breath as Bonds, you know there is some serious revenge on the minds of sports writers who have taken Bonds' shit all these years. This isn't commentary, it's payback.

Pure speculation on my part, but I think the Rays were more than a little interested in Bonds for this season. It's a forward-thinking franchise that's struggled to attract fans, and no one's going to argue that Jonny Gomes is more deserving of ABs at this — or any — point in his career than Bonds. It just seemed like the right fit, not unlike the A's were. And, make no mistake, people will show up to see Bonds. Some of them may boo, some of them may "protest" the team, but there's never been a team that better understood that all attention is good attention that the Rays.

But I also think a young franchise on the verge of landing a new, publicly financed stadium, caught of whiff of the media's incoming shit storm and thought better of being so bold. Again, I could be wrong, and this is all speculation on my part. But I really do believe that the media — not Bonds, not Bonds' agent, and not Bonds' indictment — scared off teams like the Padres, A's and Rays who dared to suggest that maybe Bonds might perhaps be somewhat of a moderate upgrade, maybe, over the horseshit they're planning on trotting out in either LF or at DH.

Considering the tenor of much of what I've seen in the "established" sports media this past week — Rosenthals' thoughtless rant joins TK's anti-blogger diarrhea and Jon Heyman's comical "takedown" of statheads — it appears that the old-school media are fending off what many forecast to be their forthcoming irrelevance by proving they're capable of the same spleen they often criticize bloggers for displaying. And, in this case, it appears that the media is close to successfully taking food out of Bonds' mouth, which is what I think he was accusing them of attempting to do for so long anyway. There's probably an opportunity to tie everything into some snappy line, but I'm going to leave it at that.

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Pepe's Ryan Howard post at his new blog is really interesting, even if I take issue with one of his (albeit smaller) points.

Friday, February 08, 2008

Ohgodpleasemakebaseballstart

I don't know about you people, but I'm sort of going crazy right now.

On the bright side, I've spent the majority of this week — work hours included — trying to create a formula for Value Over Replacement Player in my fantasy league, using the last seven years of league data.

So far, it looks like this:

=(((L564-67)/24.5)+((N564-15)/10)+((O564-62)/27.2))+((P564-6)/10)+(((Q564-0.265)*(K564/8000)/0.002))

For the first time in my life, I've created an Excel document larger than 50 megabytes. I'll probably spend the next two weeks tweaking the formula, or making it relative to position (right now it's not). Unless I fucking shoot myself before two weeks are out, that is.

Please, baseball. Just start already.

Monday, January 21, 2008

Mr. Miller will have a word with you now, Lance

The current flavor of the month for the media right now — when they're not too busy mocking Congress for doing what the excessive media coverage of the Mitchell Report encouraged Congress to do in the first place — is asking ballplayers what they think about steroids, testing, and the future of America's erstwhile back-acne-free youth. Theoretically, there's no problem with the media doing this, since I can't imagine there are many better topics for reporters to ask ballplayers in an offseason. However, the reality of the situation is that when a player is evasive or wishes not to comment, the writer has the power to make it appear that the player's motivation for his recalcitrance is more sinister than simple — and advisable — discretion. On the other hand, honest/loudmouth players who spout off create a serious problem when it comes to that player's union maintaining a unified front.

Lance Berkman is an example of the latter. He's been full of self-aggrandizing chatter this offseason, reaching his zenith with this whopper when asked about his willingness to offer a blood sample for an HGH screen, even though a reliable test has yet to be created:

"Absolutely, there's no question," he said. "I think anybody that wouldn't submit to that has something to hide."

I suppose Berkman deserves plaudits for offering up his sangre so freely, but his taking it a step further and casting suspicion on any player who's a little less trusting when it comes to his bodily fluids is a breach. I would like to think that when spring training rolls around, one of his savvier teammates will pull him aside and ask him, politely, to keep his fucking mouth shut when it comes to other players' business.

But, more importantly, it got me to wondering if we would be reading comments like these were the union's leadership made of stronger stuff. I realize that at one point in time, MLBPA honcho Donald Fehr was seen as being a strong rep for the players, but it's clear that his appearances in front of Congress have turned him into a pussycat, relatively speaking. Marvin Miller, the man most responsible for the union's power at the bargaining table, probably would have informed players at the outset of Mitchell's investigation that breaking rank would result in being stranded by the union the next time that player found itself in hot water. And that's the way it should be.

Comments like those offered by Berkman move the onus on the players, and the players alone, when it comes to handling the steroid issue. And while our proud Rice grad might think it's a black-and-white issue — players shouldn't do steroids, period — responsibility for PED use in baseball has proven to be anything but clear. It's imperative that the administrative and ownership arms of baseball not be allowed to wriggle it's way off the hook if we're going to talk about the past. And, in terms of the future, a strong union is the only thing that can prevent PED testing from turning into a complete farce, because the owners will be more than happy to set up a rigged system if it means that they won't be pushed in front of the cameras again. Every time someone like Berkman opens his trap, it makes it more difficult for Fehr or his successor to hold strong against the lopsided demands of ownership that are sure to come during the next collective bargaining negotiation.

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Here's an awesome interview with a very awesome baseball writer who took a pass on voting for the Hall of Fame this year (hat tip to Rob Neyer).

Tuesday, January 15, 2008

A Confederacy of Dunces

Does this picture startle you? It scares the shit out of me. A face like this shouldn't be ubiquitous unless it's on the front of a box of oatmeal, should it? I don't think so. But apparently our intrepid representatives in D.C. think so, because Mitchell was back on his bully pulpit Tuesday, only it was on the taxpayer's dime as opposed to baseball's. Mind you, taxpayers have subsidized the latter to such a degree that it's irrelevant to distinguish between the two parties at this point.

I appreciate that Mitchell might have been at a loss for something to do now that he's both saved Ireland and saved the children of America from the dangers of improved bat speed, but a full congressional hearing seems like a bit of a reach for this particular workaholic. Perhaps I'm the only person standing in this particular line of thought, but the Mitchell Report felt a little light after the initial mediajaculation w/r/t the list of names. I'm not particularly interested in getting back into the particulars here, but suffice to say I can't imagine what on earth made Congress think that enough had changed post-report that a brand-new hearing needed to happen. And after reading Jayson Stark's live blog, I have no more of an idea than I did before.

What strikes me as interesting, though, is that these kinds of media circuses continue to take place. It's facile to say that politicians simply enjoy grandstanding, though that not to say it isn't true. However, politicians often act in accordance with maximum utility in mind; they rarely continue doing things that don't play well with constituents (at least not publicly), because nothing is more important than the next election for most career politicians. If you're to accept those premises, then clearly politicians have concluded things like the steroid hearings play well to the public and make them appear more ... congressional?

Despite its supposed status as a true marketplace of ideas — the ideal newspapers long claimed to represent despite the obviousness of that industry's inability to juggle unabridged honesty and the need to attract advertising — it appears the sports department of the blogosphere has adopted the same kind of ideological rigidity and hegemony that we often accuse the sports media of having. I can find nary a good sports blog that hasn't expressed some measure of outrage over these congressional hearings, not to mention fatigue over the steroid issue in general. If we're to believe that sports blogs represent the "common man's" outlook on sports, then one would think the Henry Waxmans of the world would take the hint and stop interrogating Donald Fehr. But they haven't, which leads me to believe that we're all missing something here in the blogosphere.

It might be a reach, but I see this as analogous to Ron Paul's run for the Republican nomination. If the primaries were held on the internet, Paul would win in a landslide not seen since the last time Fidel Castro held an "election." The momentum his campaign has generated on the internet — not to mention the insane outpouring of campaign contributions that is composed almost entirely of small donations counted in the low hundreds — would lead one to believe that Paul is not only a viable candidate (he's almost certainly not, which causes me no small amount of sadness) but that his ideas really hold water with a large percentage of the American populace.

Such must be the same with steroids in baseball. The interweb cognoscenti has thrown up its hands and said that we're all tired of it, but obviously has miscalulated exactly who the "royal we" in this case represents. Leeches don't affix themselves to corpses, only bodies that still pump blood; the fact that the U.S. Congress is still involved indicates that the heart of the steroid issue is still pumping. Now, it's just a matter of figuring out why, and perhaps in the process discovering if maybe we're the ones who are missing something.

I realize there's no point to this, but I just felt like riffing.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Yes, George, What about the kids?

The money-shot has, finally, been delivered in Bud Selig's two-year-long steroid porno. We've read the Mitchell Report — or allowed Deadspin to point out the most interesting sections — and we've seen the tedious press conferences by the author and the benefactor, who should have at least held hands at some point for posterity's sake. We may have witnessed the moment Roger Clemens, considered by some to be the greatest pitcher in the history of the game, became the next sure-fire Hall-of-Famer to see his shot at Cooperstown go down the shitter (it should go without saying that if Clemens isn't disqualified after the Mitchell Report, then Mark McGwire should be giving another nationally televised speech in the next couple of years, during which he can again not talk about the past). And we've become intimately familiar with the next wave of steroid scapegoats, a marvelous cross-section of baseball players that doesn't discriminate based on talent or active playing status.

None of this has made me care any more about steroid use than I did before, a position that's apparently quite popular if one is to believe that internet pundits and comment-writers constitute an accurate sample of sports fans. Yes, of course, I would prefer to follow sports without the knowledge that the men involved are actively partaking in sado-masochism to better entertain me and bolster their personal finances. But I've also never thought "fair-play" was an option in sports, and I take bemused pity on anyone naive enough to think that such a fantasy is attainable. I find it hard to believe that members of a society unable to convince people to stop murdering — even with the threat of the ultimate punishment looming should one take a life — thinks that any testing policy will significantly negate the desire to cheat, not to mention stop cheating among even a majority of those who have done so in the past. That doesn't mean you don't ban and constantly improve testing measures, it just means that you must accept the existence of impropriety in athletics just as you do in all other walks of life. It is enough to state unequivocally that cheating is wrong — something baseball didn't do until a few years ago — clearly state the punishment for cheating, and hope that you've convinced the fence-sitters that it's probably a better bet to drink a little more Red Bull and quit staying up so late before day games.

(Side note 1: Please, everyone, stop saying the "Steroid Era" — as obnoxious and sanctimonious a label as any in the history of sports — is actually over. Steroids haven't gone anywhere. Steroid users haven't gone anywhere. Steroids are still being taken by baseball players, maybe even a lot of baseball players. The horse is out of the motherfucking barn; this isn't like the "Cracker Era" in baseball, which was ended by Robinson's breaking of the color barrier. The "Steroid Era" in baseball will exist until an even better method of cheating comes around and makes steroid use passé.)

(Side note 2: I love — LOVE — that amphetamines didn't so much as merit a mention in Mitchell's report. For $20 million dollars over two years, you could at least be thorough.)

Anyway, what really got me — I almost did a spit take on my hamburger when I heard this at the bar during lunch — was Mitchell upping the sancti-ante my giving us the well-worn "What about the kids?!?" line. That kind of drivel is sickening in any occasion, but Mitchell using it to prop up baseball's criminal overreaction to decades of passive acceptance of PED use was about as scummy as it could get. Not that I should expect anything better from a former federal congressman, but every so often I'm still stunned at the gall of people who believe that pre-adolescents make for handy metaphorical human shields.

Now that I've calmed down, my almost paralyzing desire to break Mitchell's left orbital has subsided. But I'd still like to throw his own mealy-mouthed question back in his face. What about the kids, you cocksucker? Because I think that baseball's steroid "investigation" has set a far worse moral example for today's youth than anything F.P. Santangelo did with his ass, a needle and perhaps his closest personal-training buddy.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe there's nothing wrong with applying wide brushes when condemning individuals. The "list" — not the fake one released hours before the Mitchell Report which was, stunningly, to be found on the web sites of "legitimate" news delivery agencies (hear that, SAS?) — is presented as a context-less recitation of "users" everywhere it's to be found. Are we to believe that Paul Byrd and Andy Pettitte are both guilty of the same crimes, to the same degrees? Further, are we to believe there's equal evidence of the guilt of both men? Of course not. But Mitchell's use of names invited a situation in which all alleged users — and I'd bet the house that a not-insignificant portion of the men on that list shouldn't be on itare considered cheaters of the same magnitude and with the same amount of proof. Remember, kids, that it's OK to generalize provided you're doing it under the banner of righteousness.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe that it's OK to injure others based on hearsay and zealotry. Because, as far as I can tell, all Mitchell has to offer about Clemens and Pettitte, the two biggest names indicted by the report, is the testimony of a potentially jilted ex-personal trainer and his supplier. No corroboration, no lie detector test, no actual evidence of steroid use outside of the "sworn testimony" of two guys and the willingness of the rest of us to allow our suspicions to be so easily confirmed. Yes, there's some fairly damning, hard evidence about others that was uncovered by the Feds in various raids, but that's not the case with the two gentlemen who spent the most time on the ticker during Mitchell's press conference. I'm shocked, frankly, that Mitchell didn't take the now-popular path of talking to ballplayer's ex-mistresses and presenting their testimony without reservation. Remember, kids, that the ends always justify the means.

If we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then the kids should believe it's acceptable let others take the punishment for a misdeed you participated in, provided you can cop to plausible deniability. Why haven't we seen a gigantic, explosive, above-the-virtual-fold columns condemning Brian Sabean's tacit acknowledgment of Bonds' steroid use (and encouragement, in the fashion of offering Bonds another contract after Stan Conte had made it very clear that Bonds was juicing), which was documented in the report? And Sabean wasn't the only one; I refuse to believe that most coaches, GMs and owners were in the dark about this shit. Men cannot simultaneously be intelligent enough to run massive organizations and dumb enough to not have a fucking clue what its employees are up to in the goddamn clubhouses. Mitchell made mention of "shared responsibility," and deserves credit for not cracking a smile when doing so. His report has laid this problem squarely on the players and given the administrators a token reprimand for playing dumb. Everyone knew what was going on, and the money men encouraged it by lavishing the users with millions of dollars and ridiculously long contracts. Remember, kids, that shit always rolls downhill, so just make sure that you're rich if you're going to do something wrong.

And, finally, if we're to use the Mitchell Report as a moral guide, then kids should learn to celebrate the ethics of the snitch. The parts of this report that weren't based on seized evidence were based on the testimony of those who had something to gain by implicating others in their crimes. It's nice to know that, should I ever be a part of a criminal conspiracy, I have currency with my captors so long as I'm caught first. Right after high school baseball players are handed a first-person testimonial about the dangers of steroids written by the remorseful hand of Jason Giambi on his personalized stationary, they should receive a concise explanation of "The Prisoner's Dilemma," and understand how the proper manipulation of game theory can likely one day emancipate them from punishment for misdeeds, or at the very least mitigate that punishment. Remember, kids, to rat early and rat often. Maybe one day, you'll be best known for destroying the life of someone much more popular and successful than you.

Just don't take steroids. We beg of you. Anything but steroids.

Monday, December 03, 2007

Cleaning house

Sean Taylor
It appears the cops are fairly resolute on this being a non-premeditated murder, which I suppose makes much of the speculation — mine included, featured right below this post — appear hasty and flat wrong.

OK.

I'm not going to apologize for what I said because I still feel there's logic behind it. Readers will, by this point, be familiar with my love of William of Occam, and his fine razor. The simplest answer, in this case, was that Sean Taylor's off-the-field history likely played a role in his eventual demise. I agree with many critics of the media's coverage that attempting to draw conclusions about Taylor — as a person, or in regard to his demise — based on his on-field behavior reeks of prejudice, and not necessarily in the racial sense (though it would be foolish to say that's absolutely not the case, either). But I disagree with those crowing "See! I told you so!" to those who stated the obvious in the early days after his death, which is that Taylor had a history of being both the alleged victim and perpetrator of gun violence. And that's not even getting into the break-in a week prior, the remnants of which involved what can only be construed as a threat of violence. I'll be curious to see how that situation is ultimately reconciled by investigators when it's all said and done, if it's to be reconciled at all.

I'm also going to say this — and I know I'm likely to catch shit for it — before being done with the matter of Taylor's death: I still have trouble buying it. It would make perfect sense for the perpetrators to represent their crime as a burglary gone bad, as a lack of premeditation serves as a mitigating circumstance when it comes to murder. Of course, it's not just the perps saying this; I would like to believe the police wouldn't simply buy into what's been confessed and leave it at that. But without getting all conspiracy theorist on everyone here, if this is a coincidence, it's a hell of a coincidence. And I'm not the only person who thinks so. But that's also largely irrelevant, so I'll leave it at that.

There are a ton of other issues that Taylor's death has brought up, however, w/r/t black athletes, the perception of black athletes by the media and fans, and the fairly shocking mortality rates for young black men that Taylor's death has suddenly made everyone aware of. I'm not going to pretend I'm capable or willing of attacking all with the correct gravity right now, but maybe I'll break them up and tackle them another day. I am going to say this, however: If you believe that race isn't an issue, you are allowing your desires to cloud your perception of reality. Race is not only an issue, it might be the issue. And I don't see why acknowledging that, or talking about it, is met with shouts, because it's that reaction that guarantees the "race isn't an issue" people will continue to be very, very wrong. I'm not saying everyone has to agree on the conclusions, only that the argument is worth having.

The Patriots
Two sub-par performances in a row against teams that strain to be considered mediocre (unless we're actually willing to grant that the Eagles' and Ravens' performances against the Patriots suggest that, perhaps, they're better than just mediocre ... perhaps they've been unlucky?). But, still, two wins. And what's surprising to me is that, amid the speculation and desire to assign the 2007 Patriots a legacy despite the presence of, potentially, seven more games to go, everyone seems to have forgotten how fucking hard it is to win a football game in the NFL.

That statement can serve as an age-old truism — I mean, there's a reason there's been one undefeated team in the history of the league, and that team had one of the weakest schedules in the league that season — or you can make it specific to this era. It's difficult to describe to people who haven't been exposed to the inner workings of a professional or college football team just how staggering the technology at the disposal of coaches is in the modern era. The days of the single game tape are long gone; teams have the opportunity to dissect teams using the standard two cameras (one sideline, one end zone) operated by the home team at each game, television tapes and advance scouting reports in addition to the sheer volume of information that fans have access to as well. There are no secrets in football anymore, especially when it comes to schemes. To top it all off, coaches generally spend about 80 hours planning for each game, which would cause one to expect some advancement in approach against a particular opponent as the season wears on.

The Patriots, at some point, were going to have these kinds of games. I'm a little surprised that they came in a pair, but the timing shouldn't really be a concern. Nor should the opponents; while the Eagles and Ravens are well on their way to incredibly disappointing campaigns, they're not the Dolphins, either. Both teams schemed well in an effort to exploit their strengths and the Pats' weaknesses. Both had the Pats on the ropes. Both looked like they might pull it off.

And they didn't.

I have no idea what's going to happen for the rest of this season, which is why I'm willing to wait before making any affirmative statements about the Pats' "greatness." But I will say this: If New England wins out, regardless of margins of victory of heart palpitations on the part of Tony Kornheiser, they're the greatest team in the history of the NFL. But I really have trouble believing that's going to happen. It's just too hard.

On instant replay
Twice this week, games with big playoff implications were decided by questionable calls. The Packers lost because of a pass interference call that cost them close to 50 yards that appeared to be a case of tangled feet, which does not constitute pass interference. The Browns lost when Kellen Winslow was ruled out-of-bounds on a game-tying touchdown reception, despite the fact he was clearly forced out of bounds.

The pass interference call wasn't reviewed, because you can't review pass interference. The Browns' touchdown was reviewed, but not to determine if it was a force-out, because that's not reviewable either.

What bullshit.

We're told that those plays aren't reviewable, because they're "judgement calls." The same goes for field goal tries, holding, and facemask penalties. What distinguishes these plays from non-judgement calls is not readily apparent to me. Does the term suggest that the definitions of the infractions are highly subjective? If that's the case, those definitions should be reconsidered. But I think we all know they're not subjective, they're just difficult to call consistently. And that makes sense; being a football official is very difficult, and expecting robot-like precision on the part of human beings is foolish. With all due respect to Seahawks fans, bad or missed calls are not indicative of anything more than human fallibility.

But doesn't the presence of instant replay indicate an implicit acceptance on the part of the NFL that referees might get it wrong sometimes, and that there should be a mechanism in place to allow aggrieved teams the benefit of an opportunity on the part of officials to correct their errors? I think that's a reasonable conclusion. And if that's the case, then shouldn't the most difficult calls to make be made available to a second look?

I sense that the league is afraid that including pass interference on the list of reviewable plays will somehow expose officials to scorn, or even worse expose the league's rules definitions as being more subjective than what constitutes obscenity. I guess it's nice to see that the colossus of American sports is so damn sensitive.

The hot stove

I know everyone's talking about Santana, but isn't that getting old (plus, he's not going anywhere)? No, the real story is that the smart teams are jumping in early and swinging high-risk, high-ceiling deals before the market gets further inflated at the Opryland Hotel bar. The Padres' signing of Randy Wolf is precisely the kind of free agent deal that mid-market teams have to make if they're going to stay competitive; the only way Wolf will end up being highly paid is if he earns the money. Yeah, I know, the Padres have an advantage because of PETCO when it comes to signing pitchers, but it has less to do with the specifics of this deal than it does the approach. The only "bargains" to be had are on players with red flags, as evidenced by the Nationals' swindling of the Mets and Rays for Lastings Milledge and Elijah Dukes, in addition to the aforementioned Wolf signing.

(Quick note on Dukes: If you think this was a bad deal, then you're confusing baseball with the National Honors Society. Dukes is a talented player who's done some bad stuff, on the field and off. He threatened the life of his girlfriend, which is reprehensible for sure. But he's not in jail for it either, which means he's still eligible to have a career. If you think Dukes should be punished for his transgressions, complain about the justice system, not baseball)

But I think the really interesting story is that its looking very likely that the Padres will lock-up Jake Peavy long-term. Peavy's willing to cut the Pads a discount — he'll likely make less annually that Carlos Zambrano — comes in return for a no-trade clause, which is understandable. And while I've often bemoaned long-term contracts for pitchers, I'm starting to soften a little when it comes to the elite guys. Peavy's on a very short list of hurlers who are near-mortal locks to be among the best five starters in the majors on a yearly basis, and while it's dumb to expect that he'll be anywhere close to this dominant in 2013, he should still be well above-average barring significant injury. And while the "significant injury" caveat isn't insignificant, it's probably not significant enough to make deals like these prohibitive any longer. At some point in time, you've got to take your shot, even if you acknowledge that the odds aren't the most desirable. Peavy's not only one of the pre-eminent players in the game, he also happens to play for a team whose best pitching prospect (Will Inman) projects to be a No. 3 in a perfect world. I happen to think that the Twins should strongly consider giving Santana the money he wants as well — this is a fairly recent conclusion for me as well — but the situation for the Twins and the Padres aren't exactly analogous. The Twins could afford to lose Santana, even without a massive return in a trade, because they are flush with pitching prospects and have Francisco Liriano returning from Tommy John surgery. The Padres, on the other hand, don't have anyone all that great coming up through the system, which means that Peavy's value to the team is even higher.

Guys like me are often accused of ignoring the forest for the trees when it comes to stuff like this, and I think that's fair criticism. I hate the idea of teams — particularly teams I like — signing irrational contracts, and those belonging to free agent starters are most often deserving of that particular epithet. In my perfect world, you would always have enough talent on the farm to allow free agents to walk, because free agents are almost always too expensive. But in an imperfect world, you have to accept that there are times when too much isn't really too much. Peavy's expensive, and if he gets hurt it will be a massive blow to the franchise's ability to compete. But it would probably be an even bigger blow to not have him, which means it's a deal you have to make.

Monday, November 26, 2007

Dear TGWNA,

Yo. It's me Aaron Rowand. I used to play center field for the Philadelphia Phillies, but I'm now unemployed. I doubt I'll be out of a job for long, but apparently I had to wait for some dude named Torii (what kinda name is that?) to get signed so everyone could figure out how much they were willing to pay me. They say I'm going to get paid less; not a whole lot, maybe 10 percent less overall. OK, that's cool, considering dude just got signed for $18 milly a year to play in that place by Disney Land. Heh. I like the tea cups ride.

Anyways, my only question is: Why is this Torii guy going to get paid more than me, exactly? Don't get me wrong, he seems like a cool guy and everything, and I've seen him on Sports Center robbing dudes of home runs and stuff, which is cool. But, hey, you might have noticed me on Sports Center a couple of times to, face-planting into fences. Alls I'm saying is that it's not like he's got a monopoly on highlight catches. He may jump, but is he willing to look like a fucking hockey player for the rest of his career? Yeah, I didn't think so. If he only knew how much the broads dug steri-strips.

So, if it's not the highlight catches, then what is it? As far as I can tell, I'm as good as the dude. Maybe better. My boy Diesel got me some numbers on this shit, and told me to paste 'em on here.

Aaron Rowand career OPS+: 106
Torii Hunter career OPS+: 104

Aaron Rowand WARP3, 2005-2007: 19.1
Torii Hunter WARP3, 2005-2007: 19.0

Aaron Rowand Age: 29
Torii Hunter Age: 31

Also, on defense, Diesel told me it's basically a wash. Hunter has a slightly higher "range factor" and "zone rating," I got a higher "fielding runs above replacement" figure, and we got the same fielding percentage.

Yeah, I'm like you: I don't have a motherfucking clue what WARP3 is, either (Diesel also said something about my VORP being higher than Torii's last season, but I told his geek ass to shut it already), but I think it's pretty cool that the stats are saying I'm better than the other guy who's gonna get paid more than me.

Hold on, that's not cool at all. That's actually really fucked up.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Sink or swim


It's no surprise that the term "witch-hunt" has been bandied about in our cliché-crazy environment when referring to the hysteria surrounding steroids and baseball. I've long thought that the Red Scare was the best available analogy, particularly in light of the "What about the kids?!?" pap that's been trotted out by dozens of supercilious columnists trying to justify their rending of Tommy Bahama shirts and well-worn 501s, but we're not here to discuss the relative merits of hackneyed terminology. We're here to talk about, instead, our weird perception of morality and justice as it pertains to athletes.

As tired and inadequate as the witch references may be in general, the concept of a witch trial is most appropriate when sizing up the situation faced by one Barry Bonds, he of the home run record and 1,000 moments of terror for sports writers. The crime Bonds is being pilloried for today is lying to a grand jury, when the opportunity for "immunity" was presented should he offer any testimony that would be self-incriminating. But, considering that what he said that day was going to become public knowledge, he was really faced with a witch's "water test": If he confessed to a crime everyone had already assumed him guilty of, then he would be finished. If he maintained his innocence — honestly or not — then he would face the punishment nonetheless.

If the body floats, it's a witch. If the body sinks, it's not a witch. Live guilty, or die innocent.

The prosecutor was already armed with evidence that Bonds was a customer of BALCO, and had in the process of his patronage obtained anabolic steroids and a series of other performance-enhancing drugs from BALCO honcho Victor Conte. He was also armed with enough evidence to indict Conte as it was; the use of Bonds, Jason Giambi and a handful of other professional athletes amounted to, at best, piling on, and at worst a dog and pony show for — supposedly — the benefit of those in attendance, and those in attendance only.

That last part is what we're most concerned with, at this moment. Grand juries exist to allow prosecutors to, in theory, test the viability of a case they wish to bring to trial. In reality, grand juries exist to strengthen a prosecutor's case by virtue of an indictment that is granted in a closed proceeding without the benefit of judges, the defendant, or lawyers for the defendant or any witnesses. It is not a stretch to suggest that what often takes place within a grand jury proceeding is nothing short of slander against a prospective defendant, which is why it's increasingly rare for a prosecutor to not earn an indictment as a result of these patently farcical proceedings. Evidence that wouldn't see the light of day after discovery is fair game in a grand jury proceeding, and there's no limit to what a prosecutor can do to witnesses that he or she would otherwise be given a severe reprimand for repeating in an open court.

A prosecutor can also offer immunity to any witness, which in theory — sorry if I keep using this particular caveat as a rhetorical device — obviates the need for any witness to invoke his or her Fifth Amendment right to not be compelled to self-incriminate. Bonds, like the other BALCO clients, was granted immunity in return for honest testimony, which in a lot of people's minds means that Bonds had no excuse to lie about his steroid use.

Bonds is a lot of things — megalomaniac, an asshole, selfish — but he's rarely been accused of being stupid. Nor, I suspect, are the members of his legal council. Anyone with half a brain could see the BALCO grand jury for the circus it was, and thusly had to understand two things about it:

1) It was a pointless exercise of prosecutorial power, and;
2) There was absolutely zero chance that testimony would remain secret.

Bonds, like every other athlete called to testify, had much more to worry about than the criminality of any actions they might admit to on that stand. Rarely are the users of "illegal" drugs like steroids convicted of anything more weighty than a misdemeanor; it's only ever the suppliers that need be concerned of serious jail time, and no one has ever accused Bonds of sharing his stash. But an admission to using steroids or other performance-enhancing drugs was nothing less than professional suicide, and in the case of almost every BALCO client, that meant millions of dollars lost. Perhaps I am overly cynical, but I don't know many people who honor the "truth" — particularly when it's over such a petty crime, in the eyes of the law — enough to sacrifice that kind of money. In addition, Bonds stood close to the precipice of one of the greatest professional accomplishments any athlete could hope to accomplish, which meant he stood to lose both material wealth and athletic immortality. He had every reason to lie that day, seeing as the prosecutor's promise of confidentiality promised to be worthless, a belief borne out by the subsequent leak and publishing of that testimony in newspapers and The Game of Shadows, a book that virtually re-wrote the rules about yellow sports journalism.

So, why did anyone expect him to tell the truth on the stand? Where's the benefit? Furthermore, how is the "greater good" served by his telling the truth in this situation? Even if you believe Conte deserved to be locked up for his crimes, whatever Bonds said that day really didn't change things one way or the other. The player's "crime" didn't harm society; it harmed a game that had looked the other way for at least a decade as juiced ballplayers brought fans back into the seats and dollars back into the pockets of team owners (and, yes, the players themselves). The "crime" was against hopelessly naive fans who clung onto silly notions of athletic purity. And, if you really want to go left-field on this situation, Bonds' crime was against his "legacy," or "natural talent," or "respect for the game," ideas that shouldn't be uttered with a straight face. In truth, Bonds' only "crime" when it came to performance-enhancing drugs was that he shopped with the wrong distributor, or perhaps made his use a little to conspicuous. Perhaps that's a sign of poor forethought, but more than likely it's bad luck. Luck, and the fact that he was so unabashedly better than everyone else — even those juicing just as much — that the scope of every self-righteous, fame-hungry writer or federal prosecutor was aimed directly as his expanding head.

The real "crime" Bonds is being punished for — with this perjury indictment serving as proxy — is being unwilling to offer a lame, emasculating and humiliating "apology" like Giambi (who only apologized after the testimony leaked; had it actually remained secret, he would still maintain his innocence) so the rest of us could feel superior for a day before moving on. Because this proud, arrogant athlete didn't prostrate himself, he is everything that's wrong with the game and should be fitted with shackles. Worse yet, now, and only now, that there's an federal indictment — as opposed to just reams of evidence, two books loudly proclaiming his guilt and a general consensus among everyone that he used PEDs — he's suddenly untouchable, and will not be signed by a team this offseason even though he's still one of the 20 best offensive players in the league and without question the best remaining offensive player on the market. How fucking capricious and hypocritical is that, baseball?

If Bonds goes to jail — he almost certainly won't, by the way, because it's virtually impossible to prove perjury in this particular situation — he should be defiant on his perp walk. The only shame that should be felt is by those who think that what's taking place right now is anything except a travesty and embarrassment. Athletes who have killed people, or been party to a murder — hello there, Ray Lewis and Leonard Little! — received nowhere close to the self-congratulatory bile that's filled sports pages the last three years every time the subject is Barry Bonds. One wonders if the fan reaction to Pac-Man Jones the next time he steps on a field of play will compare to anything Bonds received last season on the road.

I'm not saying that what Bonds did was right — taking steroids or lying to the grand jury — nor should anyone "defending" Bonds have to say as much. But I'm not going to pretend that either infraction is anywhere close to deserving of the punishment he's already received, not to mention the punishment he possibly could receive down the road. Nor am I going to give the hyper-moralists a pass, particularly when almost every one of them have done things in their life to further their careers or contribute to their personal wealth — embellishing resumes, backstabbing co-workers, dodging taxes — that are no better or worse than what Bonds did. There are real criminals in sports that are much more deserving of our hatred, but most of them are lucky(?) enough to not be so good that the mixture of misdeed on their part and jealousy on everyone else's part proves potent enough to fire up a crooked trial.

I finish with a question: Do you really feel better now that Bonds has been ruined?