Thursday, March 31, 2005
Myopic Nats Inquirer book review: BP2005
We’ve been Zumsteged! All things equal, maybe it's preferable to be Pittsnogled.
---"If you’re into sabermetrics, then . . . you might be a Baseball Prospectus reader."
---"If you know of 'VORP' as something other than a guttural sound and are aware that both Guerrero brothers have been the namesakes of projection systems, then . . . you might be a BP reader."
---"If you have erected your very own SABR altar, complete with icons of a bearded Bill James and a plaid-shirted Rob Neyer, then . . . chances are you're a BP reader."
---"If you believe not only that Bud Selig is a stammering, spasmic fool BUT ALSO THAT Selig is a scum-bucket sadistic cretin who derives physical and emotional pleasure from bilking states and municipalities out of hundreds of millions of dollars that could be used on schools and libraries and water-treatment plants and youth baseball parks but are instead defecated on in the name of Selig's stadia shell-games, then . . . you might-could be a BP reader."
---"If you like your statistics sophisticated, your catching prospects fat and unscouted, and your GMs well-educated, pointy-nosed, probably rejected by scores of women a day, and vaguely reviled by nearly the entire baseball writing establishment, then . . . yeah, you're probably a BP reader."
---"And if you read this and other Nats blogs, then . . . we can safely assume that you are familiar with Baseball Prospectus."*
Simply put, if you're a strong advocate of, or merely an interested observer in, the statistical and analytical worldview of baseball evaluation and appreciation, then Baseball Prospectus is relevant to you.
Come to think of it, maybe "relevant" doesn't begin to describe its cosmic pull. I get the sense that BP's product has declined in recent years; if it hasn't, then other (free) prominent blogs that churn out similar or substantially better content have created the appearance that BP has declined. Nevertheless---and even accounting for my perception that the BP guys and gals have adopted any increasingly cringe-worthy diva-ish posture in recent years, when the publication and some of its individual writers have achieved mass-recognition---I still grab the annual instinctively, as I have since about 1998. Heck, a couple of weeks ago, I strolled into the local Barnes & Noble, blacked out when I hit the "Sports" aisle, came to in the car, and was surprised to see BP2005 sitting in the bag. I'm not going to pay forty bucks a pop for, among other things, the thoughts of some guy named James Click concerning the grand game, but I'll pay a full Gammons--- or, with a book club card, closer to half-a-Gammons---for the once-a-year hardcopy.
Of course, I'd be remiss not to mention that there's a bit of an issue that the Prospectus groupthink (and I'm sorry if I've mischaracterized here, but it's my perception) has with our nascent Nats. In fact, it's the genesis of this entry, to be honest. Unfortunately, the Nats, rhetorically speaking, are located at the confluence of several BP group interests:
1) a contempt for anything Bud Selig does, smells, tastes, and touches---or, sometimes, anything he doesn't;
2) a philosophical belief and rhetorical bent against publicly-funded stadia;
3) a perhaps disproportionate interest and devotion, as compared to the general baseball-loving population, in the former Montreal Expos; and,
4) a proclivity toward ripping into anything disturbing the aforementioned and other interests, often with biting wit and often with barely-veiled bitterness.
(Oh, and the Montreal organization was monumentally crunked up and the Nats will probably stink, too.)
Consequently, some BP writers have published opinions regarding the Nats that, as here, skirt "fatwa" status, and some Nats bloggers, as here, have responded in kind. (That's just one example. This blog prides itself in extensively hyper-linking to the brink of obsession, but citing all or even most such examples would take until the Rapture, and to be honest, I've got some amends to make before that happens.)
And so . . . here's our exercise: what does BP2005 have to say about our Nats? Is it good? Is it sad? Is it mad? Is it indifferent? (Not likely in that respect, I can tell you now.) In a bit of a break of protocol, Jonah Keri, in a recent BP chat, revealed that Derek Zumsteg composed the team write-up; by no coincidence, Zumsteg also wrote the essay/op-ed piece on the Nats that appears near the back of the book.
This review essentially captures what Zumsteg (and, by no great leap in extension, Baseball Prospectus) has to say about the Washington Nationals. There's a significant amount of text to cover, so out of respect for efficiency and our nation's copyright laws, I'm not going to go crazy with excerpting; when relevant, I'll quote nuggets here and there. And one last note: I do not believe that criticism is per se negativity or slamming or what-have-you; we have to have thick skins when we love a baseball team, especially a team of such, uh, unique origins as the Nats. Then again, I'll definitely note cheap-shots, inaccuracies, etc.
And away we go.
Part One, The Team Essay: From Minaya, to Bowden, to Suck
Until the end, the team essay treads no paticularly interesting or unexpected ground. It notes that the Expos follow in a sad tradition of impotently compromised baseball teams and insinuates that the lords of baseball executed shady-to-corrupt transactions that signaled the death blow of the Montreal franchise. Well, "death blow" doesn't begin to describe the image; "kicked in the ass while writhing on the ground in pain" captures it better. The ultimate inequity of all and of many (including a beat-down of both the payroll and the behind-the-scenes organizational staff) was the bizarre departure of general manager Omar Minaya, who was hired by a divisional rival before the end of the season. Sheesh, that is absolutely awful, come to think of it.
(Zumsteg also makes special mention that Minaya ran after the last Montreal home game, presumably just to cite the attendance that night---31,395---which actually, when you think about it, isn't all that impressive considering it was the team's last ever game, though in fairness I'd consider it likely that both ex-Washington teams didn't get half that figure in their last games, plus last year's game wasn't forfeited.)
Zumsteg then moves on to a discussion of new GM Jim Bowden. In a turn of events similar to the incident referenced by Distinguished Senators' Ryan in a bizarro post concerning agreement with his arch-nemesis, Dayn Perry, Zumsteg's take on the Jose Guillen trade precisely parallels that of Ryan: Guillen is Juan Rivera, except older and jerkier. All in all, Zumsteg doesn't think much of Jim-Bow's skills or gravitas: "Bowden is here to be fired." While in recent weeks, Bowden has been assured he'll be around all season, I can't say I disagree with the assessment. (Quick note: In the player comments section, Zumsteg joins an exclusive club: guys who have mangled the details of the Guillen trade. Zumsteg comments that Maicer Izturis joined the Dodgers, not the Angels. Right city---heh---wrong league.)
Truthfully, pages 252-54 could have provided a stirring tribute to the Montreal Expos. Or a sad, nostalgic tribute. Or a bitter, strident tribute. Take your pick. Instead, the team essay quick-hits that the Expos got screwed over, then argues that Minaya was impolite and Jim Bowden is less than erudite. Film at eleven, folks.
But there's nothing really objectionable, until . . . now:
Here, I'll try it, too: "Zumsteg's doomsday scenario is unlikely, as unlikely any high school kid actually reading Ethan Frome."
Simply put, the Seligians could screw absolutely everything up, Tony Williams could get caught naked with a donkey (now how's that for imagery?!), or any other number of things could happen and the stadium deal won't die at this point and, majority opinion against public financing among District residents or not, support for the Nats won't come close to near to close to dying. Twenty-one thousand season tickets say so.
Part Two, Player Comments: I Sense a Theme!!!
Well, that last comment was a bit negative, and I don't want to establish a pervasive tone of a hurt and wounded Nats fan on attack; as I said above, that's not my intent in this post. So, before I move on to some really unbelievable stuff, let me pause and give Zumsteg and BP some well-deserved credit.
As is the BP hallmark, Zumsteg knows how to look at a stats line and made some top flight inferences and evaluations. For example, here's his take on the Orleans Whiz:
In addition, Zumsteg provides a beautifully-written tribute to the wonder that it is to watch ¡LIVAN! pitch.
I would not publish an honest, Nats-centric appraisal of the "Comments" section, though, if I did not note that Zumsteg really breaks new ground thematically. In fact, I daresay he's inspired a new word to the English language---to Zumsteg:
---Jamey Carroll,
---Endy Chavez,
---Ryan Church,
---Brendan Harris,
---Maicer Izturis,
---Nick Johnson,
---Josh Labandeira,
---Alejandro Machado (in other words, the entirety of page 257),
---Henry Mateo,
---Val Pascucci (same joke as Machado, actually: "this is good; this is bad; this is worse; this is the Expos/Nationals"),
---Juan Rivera (most memorable one-liner: "Even something modestly cool like Juan Rivera is too good for this team, . . ."), and
---Brandon Watson.
And that merely covers the position players.
So, yeah, we get the point.
Yet, the above is rather a trifling observation compared to what I'll call Big Whopper Number One, which is the Brad Wilkerson comment, in relevant part:
It has to be either artistic license or an intense delusion. As a factual assertion, it fails in one of those Rubix-cube kind of ways; no matter how you arrange things, it's wrong:
---The MLB-in-Japan tour lasted from Nov. 5-13.
---The uniform unveiling, originally scheduled for mid-December, was postponed, a victim of CroppWatch '04: A City Held Hostage!.
---Zumsteg might be referring to the LOGO unveiling, which occurred about a week or two after the tour in Japan. And, although the ceremony was rather celebratory in nature (the unfurling of the logo, complete with a broad Mayor Baseball smile, was a video cut on Comcast SportsNet bumpers for several months), there were some nervous smiles there---and there was an angry, wounded individual. But the consternation sure as hell wasn't Expo-related. Instead, the ceremony was briefly interrupted by a DC Statehood Green Party protester, who crashed the party and deplored taxpayer money going toward a ballpark. But scan his organization's platform, Derek; I don't see anything about vindicating the Montreal Expos.
---Linda Cropp having been duly placated---or having been caught with Tony Williams's donkey--- the uniforms were finally unveiled in early February. But, first, I don't think there were any p.o.'ed Expo fans there either and, second, the event likely occurred after BP's press time. At any rate, tell me: is this a nervous smile? Smile, Cristian!
So, in conclusion, I have no idea what Derek Zumsteg is getting at in the Wilkerson comment. But I do know this: NO MONTREAL PROTESTERS HAVE EVER THREATENED ANY NATS' FUNCTION, AND NOT TO BE CALLOUS ABOUT IT, VERY FEW PEOPLE CARE ABOUT THE EXPOS ENOUGH EVEN TO CONTEMPLATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT. (And note: I feel bad for Montreal fans, too.)
Here's as close as we're gonna get: a couple of hardcore fans lamenting their loss at the spring training site---quietly.
Part Two-Point-Five, the Baltimore Essay: Big Whopper Number Two
I don't know who wrote the Baltimore essay (pages 287-89), but it contains an incredible passage:
All of the television revenue? Are you kidding me? Who wrote this one, Will Carroll?
Suffice it to say, although Angelos is getting the better end of the apparent deal, he's not going to consume the entire Vermonster.
Part Three, The Essay: The Inquirer is Losing Steam
Really, I am. Zumsteg wrote a five-page essay on the Nats in the back of the book. It contains a quick history-timeline of the Expos, a lengthier discussion of the relocation process, a look at the stadium deal, and a really long discourse on the general subject of "DC baseball and race." I must be burning out here, because I can't find anything particularly stimulating (good) or objectionable (bad).
A few days ago, reader Randolph summarized the essay in the Comments section of this post-n-thread. Having read the essay now, it's a good summary and a sharp analysis. Good stuff, Randolph.
I would like to add one general observation, though: I am not going to throw this deftly enough, so I apologize in advance for the tone, but why should anyone really care what a Baseball Prospectus writer who follows the Mariners mainly has to say about the issue? I'm not saying that Prospectus shouldn't comment on such hot-button issues in the baseball world, necessarily; I'm just wondering why the BP people think anyone is supposed to care.
More specifically, I'm wondering why a reader should care about an op-ed oriented piece on the issue that appears in BP. I can see investigative journalism-deep background (though BP should stay away from that sort of thing, if you ask me), and I can see a numbers-cruncing economic analysis. But what makes the opinions of a BP contributor likely far-removed from the subject interesting or worth paying for? (Heaven forbid, maybe I can even see Dayn Perry writing the thing; according to the essay, he's written on the subject in Washington Monthly.)
I don't know if I'm making sense, but what I'm trying to say is that there's a lot of interesting information in these 500+ pages. I'm just wondering why one of the few back-of-the-book, general interest essays is essentially a second team comments essay---and a glorified blog-entry with some more-traveled angles, at that.
At any rate . . . that's it, guys. Now that we're at the end and this caveat can be buried easily, let me state that the book's take on the Nats wasn't that "bad"---i.e., overtly negative, strident, callous, jerkass-y, etc. And it's not like the Washington essay and comments were the only critical ones; why, there's a reliable checklist that tracks year-to-year for which teams will get a boot up the rear. In addition, while I haven't check out the other annuals---if there are any others, besides that of the Hardball Times---this is of course the one annual you'd want to buy if you're in to "that kind of thing" (sabermetrics, fantasy-ball, and so forth). It's got some embarrassing typos and sloppy sentence constructions, but then, don't we all? (We all don't have editors and rather large publishers, though, of course.)
So . . . get BP2005---and, if you're a Nats' fan, get a thick skin, too.
* The preceding is meant in good humor; I'm not erecting strawmen or anything like that, just to be clear.
---"If you’re into sabermetrics, then . . . you might be a Baseball Prospectus reader."
---"If you know of 'VORP' as something other than a guttural sound and are aware that both Guerrero brothers have been the namesakes of projection systems, then . . . you might be a BP reader."
---"If you have erected your very own SABR altar, complete with icons of a bearded Bill James and a plaid-shirted Rob Neyer, then . . . chances are you're a BP reader."
---"If you believe not only that Bud Selig is a stammering, spasmic fool BUT ALSO THAT Selig is a scum-bucket sadistic cretin who derives physical and emotional pleasure from bilking states and municipalities out of hundreds of millions of dollars that could be used on schools and libraries and water-treatment plants and youth baseball parks but are instead defecated on in the name of Selig's stadia shell-games, then . . . you might-could be a BP reader."
---"If you like your statistics sophisticated, your catching prospects fat and unscouted, and your GMs well-educated, pointy-nosed, probably rejected by scores of women a day, and vaguely reviled by nearly the entire baseball writing establishment, then . . . yeah, you're probably a BP reader."
---"And if you read this and other Nats blogs, then . . . we can safely assume that you are familiar with Baseball Prospectus."*
Simply put, if you're a strong advocate of, or merely an interested observer in, the statistical and analytical worldview of baseball evaluation and appreciation, then Baseball Prospectus is relevant to you.
Come to think of it, maybe "relevant" doesn't begin to describe its cosmic pull. I get the sense that BP's product has declined in recent years; if it hasn't, then other (free) prominent blogs that churn out similar or substantially better content have created the appearance that BP has declined. Nevertheless---and even accounting for my perception that the BP guys and gals have adopted any increasingly cringe-worthy diva-ish posture in recent years, when the publication and some of its individual writers have achieved mass-recognition---I still grab the annual instinctively, as I have since about 1998. Heck, a couple of weeks ago, I strolled into the local Barnes & Noble, blacked out when I hit the "Sports" aisle, came to in the car, and was surprised to see BP2005 sitting in the bag. I'm not going to pay forty bucks a pop for, among other things, the thoughts of some guy named James Click concerning the grand game, but I'll pay a full Gammons--- or, with a book club card, closer to half-a-Gammons---for the once-a-year hardcopy.
Of course, I'd be remiss not to mention that there's a bit of an issue that the Prospectus groupthink (and I'm sorry if I've mischaracterized here, but it's my perception) has with our nascent Nats. In fact, it's the genesis of this entry, to be honest. Unfortunately, the Nats, rhetorically speaking, are located at the confluence of several BP group interests:
1) a contempt for anything Bud Selig does, smells, tastes, and touches---or, sometimes, anything he doesn't;
2) a philosophical belief and rhetorical bent against publicly-funded stadia;
3) a perhaps disproportionate interest and devotion, as compared to the general baseball-loving population, in the former Montreal Expos; and,
4) a proclivity toward ripping into anything disturbing the aforementioned and other interests, often with biting wit and often with barely-veiled bitterness.
(Oh, and the Montreal organization was monumentally crunked up and the Nats will probably stink, too.)
Consequently, some BP writers have published opinions regarding the Nats that, as here, skirt "fatwa" status, and some Nats bloggers, as here, have responded in kind. (That's just one example. This blog prides itself in extensively hyper-linking to the brink of obsession, but citing all or even most such examples would take until the Rapture, and to be honest, I've got some amends to make before that happens.)
And so . . . here's our exercise: what does BP2005 have to say about our Nats? Is it good? Is it sad? Is it mad? Is it indifferent? (Not likely in that respect, I can tell you now.) In a bit of a break of protocol, Jonah Keri, in a recent BP chat, revealed that Derek Zumsteg composed the team write-up; by no coincidence, Zumsteg also wrote the essay/op-ed piece on the Nats that appears near the back of the book.
This review essentially captures what Zumsteg (and, by no great leap in extension, Baseball Prospectus) has to say about the Washington Nationals. There's a significant amount of text to cover, so out of respect for efficiency and our nation's copyright laws, I'm not going to go crazy with excerpting; when relevant, I'll quote nuggets here and there. And one last note: I do not believe that criticism is per se negativity or slamming or what-have-you; we have to have thick skins when we love a baseball team, especially a team of such, uh, unique origins as the Nats. Then again, I'll definitely note cheap-shots, inaccuracies, etc.
And away we go.
Part One, The Team Essay: From Minaya, to Bowden, to Suck
Until the end, the team essay treads no paticularly interesting or unexpected ground. It notes that the Expos follow in a sad tradition of impotently compromised baseball teams and insinuates that the lords of baseball executed shady-to-corrupt transactions that signaled the death blow of the Montreal franchise. Well, "death blow" doesn't begin to describe the image; "kicked in the ass while writhing on the ground in pain" captures it better. The ultimate inequity of all and of many (including a beat-down of both the payroll and the behind-the-scenes organizational staff) was the bizarre departure of general manager Omar Minaya, who was hired by a divisional rival before the end of the season. Sheesh, that is absolutely awful, come to think of it.
(Zumsteg also makes special mention that Minaya ran after the last Montreal home game, presumably just to cite the attendance that night---31,395---which actually, when you think about it, isn't all that impressive considering it was the team's last ever game, though in fairness I'd consider it likely that both ex-Washington teams didn't get half that figure in their last games, plus last year's game wasn't forfeited.)
Zumsteg then moves on to a discussion of new GM Jim Bowden. In a turn of events similar to the incident referenced by Distinguished Senators' Ryan in a bizarro post concerning agreement with his arch-nemesis, Dayn Perry, Zumsteg's take on the Jose Guillen trade precisely parallels that of Ryan: Guillen is Juan Rivera, except older and jerkier. All in all, Zumsteg doesn't think much of Jim-Bow's skills or gravitas: "Bowden is here to be fired." While in recent weeks, Bowden has been assured he'll be around all season, I can't say I disagree with the assessment. (Quick note: In the player comments section, Zumsteg joins an exclusive club: guys who have mangled the details of the Guillen trade. Zumsteg comments that Maicer Izturis joined the Dodgers, not the Angels. Right city---heh---wrong league.)
Truthfully, pages 252-54 could have provided a stirring tribute to the Montreal Expos. Or a sad, nostalgic tribute. Or a bitter, strident tribute. Take your pick. Instead, the team essay quick-hits that the Expos got screwed over, then argues that Minaya was impolite and Jim Bowden is less than erudite. Film at eleven, folks.
But there's nothing really objectionable, until . . . now:
At this rate, by the time the season is over the Nationals may have demonstrated how quickly and thoroughly interest in baseball can be snuffed out. The hugely expensive stadium plan could start to tumble, taken down by countless angry citizen actions like Gulliver being pulled down by the Lilliputians. At that point, having kept the franchise for themselves if they don't sell soon. BobBasil's Rules of Rhetoric, No. 38: "If you've got nothing substantive, resort to neat imagery."
DuPuy might be leading the conga line to the next city.
Here, I'll try it, too: "Zumsteg's doomsday scenario is unlikely, as unlikely any high school kid actually reading Ethan Frome."
Simply put, the Seligians could screw absolutely everything up, Tony Williams could get caught naked with a donkey (now how's that for imagery?!), or any other number of things could happen and the stadium deal won't die at this point and, majority opinion against public financing among District residents or not, support for the Nats won't come close to near to close to dying. Twenty-one thousand season tickets say so.
Part Two, Player Comments: I Sense a Theme!!!
Well, that last comment was a bit negative, and I don't want to establish a pervasive tone of a hurt and wounded Nats fan on attack; as I said above, that's not my intent in this post. So, before I move on to some really unbelievable stuff, let me pause and give Zumsteg and BP some well-deserved credit.
As is the BP hallmark, Zumsteg knows how to look at a stats line and made some top flight inferences and evaluations. For example, here's his take on the Orleans Whiz:
This is a dangerous player. His batting average is high enough so that he looks like a good enough hitter. He'll steal enough bases so that you'll want him for that. His range and speed are good enough that sometimes he'll come in a long way to catch a shallow fly and look like a solid defender. Managers bite on these kind of players, and suddenly they're at the top of the lineup every day.Couldn't agree more, Derek Z. (Zumsteg couldn't have foreseen that Chavez would get dumped a few days ago, but credit must go to Frank Robinson and Bowden for doing so; Zumsteg treated Chavez's existence in the lineup as a foregone conclusion, it seems.)
. . .
In addition, Zumsteg provides a beautifully-written tribute to the wonder that it is to watch ¡LIVAN! pitch.
I would not publish an honest, Nats-centric appraisal of the "Comments" section, though, if I did not note that Zumsteg really breaks new ground thematically. In fact, I daresay he's inspired a new word to the English language---to Zumsteg:
"Zumsteg"; verb. Defined: to exhibit a tendency to drag out a theme to the point of tedium. Closely-related: "Saget" (to display an unhealthy fondness for broadcasting footage of men getting cranked in the schwang by sports- and entertainment-related instrumentalities, devices, and projectiles).What is Zumsteg's theme? ". . . in this organization." For instance, "that wouldn't be so bad, except in this organization . . .", or "that would be good news, except in this organization . . ." How often does this theme arise? Well, it pops up in the comments on:
---Jamey Carroll,
---Endy Chavez,
---Ryan Church,
---Brendan Harris,
---Maicer Izturis,
---Nick Johnson,
---Josh Labandeira,
---Alejandro Machado (in other words, the entirety of page 257),
---Henry Mateo,
---Val Pascucci (same joke as Machado, actually: "this is good; this is bad; this is worse; this is the Expos/Nationals"),
---Juan Rivera (most memorable one-liner: "Even something modestly cool like Juan Rivera is too good for this team, . . ."), and
---Brandon Watson.
And that merely covers the position players.
So, yeah, we get the point.
Yet, the above is rather a trifling observation compared to what I'll call Big Whopper Number One, which is the Brad Wilkerson comment, in relevant part:
Wilkerson went on the All-Star tour in Japan as an Expo, even as MLB was moving the team. He wore the Expo colors in the Tokyo Dome, a week before the team's new uniforms were held out and waved like capes as if the presenters were matadors. Above their nervous smiles, eyes darted around the room, scanning the crowd for the angry, wounded Expos fan who might charge the next flash of fabric.I've spent a significant amount of time over the past week trying to figure out what Zumsteg is stabbing at here, and at this point I'm just going to throw my hands up in the air. (But I'm not going to wave 'em like I just don't cay-yah; see page 265).
It has to be either artistic license or an intense delusion. As a factual assertion, it fails in one of those Rubix-cube kind of ways; no matter how you arrange things, it's wrong:
---The MLB-in-Japan tour lasted from Nov. 5-13.
---The uniform unveiling, originally scheduled for mid-December, was postponed, a victim of CroppWatch '04: A City Held Hostage!.
---Zumsteg might be referring to the LOGO unveiling, which occurred about a week or two after the tour in Japan. And, although the ceremony was rather celebratory in nature (the unfurling of the logo, complete with a broad Mayor Baseball smile, was a video cut on Comcast SportsNet bumpers for several months), there were some nervous smiles there---and there was an angry, wounded individual. But the consternation sure as hell wasn't Expo-related. Instead, the ceremony was briefly interrupted by a DC Statehood Green Party protester, who crashed the party and deplored taxpayer money going toward a ballpark. But scan his organization's platform, Derek; I don't see anything about vindicating the Montreal Expos.
---Linda Cropp having been duly placated---or having been caught with Tony Williams's donkey--- the uniforms were finally unveiled in early February. But, first, I don't think there were any p.o.'ed Expo fans there either and, second, the event likely occurred after BP's press time. At any rate, tell me: is this a nervous smile? Smile, Cristian!
So, in conclusion, I have no idea what Derek Zumsteg is getting at in the Wilkerson comment. But I do know this: NO MONTREAL PROTESTERS HAVE EVER THREATENED ANY NATS' FUNCTION, AND NOT TO BE CALLOUS ABOUT IT, VERY FEW PEOPLE CARE ABOUT THE EXPOS ENOUGH EVEN TO CONTEMPLATE SOMETHING LIKE THAT. (And note: I feel bad for Montreal fans, too.)
Here's as close as we're gonna get: a couple of hardcore fans lamenting their loss at the spring training site---quietly.
Part Two-Point-Five, the Baltimore Essay: Big Whopper Number Two
I don't know who wrote the Baltimore essay (pages 287-89), but it contains an incredible passage:
MLB partially placated [Peter Angelos] by essentially forcing the future owners of the Washington club to fork over all of their television revenue to Angelos, which was what Angelos considered reasonable for his impending (and likely) loss of most of the Virginia market. That is a prime financial plum, . . .Sheesh, that's no plum; that's Lucy not only pulling the football away from Charlie Brown but also handing him over to a leather-clad, knife-wielding gang of asbestos-litigating dwarves for ritual sacrifice.
All of the television revenue? Are you kidding me? Who wrote this one, Will Carroll?
Suffice it to say, although Angelos is getting the better end of the apparent deal, he's not going to consume the entire Vermonster.
Part Three, The Essay: The Inquirer is Losing Steam
Really, I am. Zumsteg wrote a five-page essay on the Nats in the back of the book. It contains a quick history-timeline of the Expos, a lengthier discussion of the relocation process, a look at the stadium deal, and a really long discourse on the general subject of "DC baseball and race." I must be burning out here, because I can't find anything particularly stimulating (good) or objectionable (bad).
A few days ago, reader Randolph summarized the essay in the Comments section of this post-n-thread. Having read the essay now, it's a good summary and a sharp analysis. Good stuff, Randolph.
I would like to add one general observation, though: I am not going to throw this deftly enough, so I apologize in advance for the tone, but why should anyone really care what a Baseball Prospectus writer who follows the Mariners mainly has to say about the issue? I'm not saying that Prospectus shouldn't comment on such hot-button issues in the baseball world, necessarily; I'm just wondering why the BP people think anyone is supposed to care.
More specifically, I'm wondering why a reader should care about an op-ed oriented piece on the issue that appears in BP. I can see investigative journalism-deep background (though BP should stay away from that sort of thing, if you ask me), and I can see a numbers-cruncing economic analysis. But what makes the opinions of a BP contributor likely far-removed from the subject interesting or worth paying for? (Heaven forbid, maybe I can even see Dayn Perry writing the thing; according to the essay, he's written on the subject in Washington Monthly.)
I don't know if I'm making sense, but what I'm trying to say is that there's a lot of interesting information in these 500+ pages. I'm just wondering why one of the few back-of-the-book, general interest essays is essentially a second team comments essay---and a glorified blog-entry with some more-traveled angles, at that.
At any rate . . . that's it, guys. Now that we're at the end and this caveat can be buried easily, let me state that the book's take on the Nats wasn't that "bad"---i.e., overtly negative, strident, callous, jerkass-y, etc. And it's not like the Washington essay and comments were the only critical ones; why, there's a reliable checklist that tracks year-to-year for which teams will get a boot up the rear. In addition, while I haven't check out the other annuals---if there are any others, besides that of the Hardball Times---this is of course the one annual you'd want to buy if you're in to "that kind of thing" (sabermetrics, fantasy-ball, and so forth). It's got some embarrassing typos and sloppy sentence constructions, but then, don't we all? (We all don't have editors and rather large publishers, though, of course.)
So . . . get BP2005---and, if you're a Nats' fan, get a thick skin, too.
* The preceding is meant in good humor; I'm not erecting strawmen or anything like that, just to be clear.
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
It's all over, Baby Bird
So long, farewell, amen: a post two days in the making, much longer in the offing
Yesterday, I was talking to a good buddy of mine. We go way back to my first day at GW, and we have the kind of friendship that, when we converse on an increasingly infrequent basis, we feel remorse for not keeping closer tabs. "I'm busy" is not an excuse, but a reason, after all. Well, in medias res, I discovered that he's very closely connected---in a sort of second-hand way, but still very closely connected---to a situation that is a major story in our nation's current events. I learned this after he asked me for my take on it, after I explained that I hadn't really been following it in tremendous detail, and after I began referring to it in an objectively removed manner.
After all of this, I learned that he had a very passionate opinion on the subject. The opinion is incredibly well-informed---granted, well-informed as to certain factual aspects from certain points of view; then again, maybe those points of view are correct. He argued his position very well, very passionately, and---though I took exception with some of his more legal and procedural claims generally---I could tell that, even if I were informed as to the fact, a) I probably would not prevail in a debate on the subject, and b) more importantly, I would never shake him of his belief, even if that were my intent.
So, after ensuring that I wasn't antagonizing him, I respected his opinions and dedication to the issue, and we moved on to talking about the opposite gender. Finer points in life, I guess.
Well, the situation had, in one of those off-hand ways, a profound effect on me. Combine it with the big baseball news from yesterday (provincially speaking, of course), and I realized that now is the time to confirm a notion that had festered for awhile. Now is the time to act.
I've decided to cease any semblance of fandom for, or devotion to, the Baltimore Orioles---indefinitely, subject to one future condition.* I just can't do it anymore.
The Nats are my only rooting concern now. (But more on them later.)
Some people---including that very friend from yesterday's conversation---view me as a guy who consciously attempts to balance the objective and subjective elements in my life. Maybe that's true; then again, maybe we choose our battles. I have another friend who is completely enamored of the Matrix stuff---the quasi-philosophical language, the deeper notions alluded to---and, while he acknowledges that the Waadklfdkfjski Bros. have not reached the very summit of rational discourse via the film medium, argues passionately that their crunk is deep stuff. My reaction is usually paraphrased as "Meh; I see what you're saying; I see lots of merit in what the detractors say, also." Is that me being objective? Or is it merely a reflection that I don't care about the issue?
Well, regardless, as I have stated on many occasions I intended to greet the Washington Nationals with attention, interest, and devotion---roughly the same ways I regarded the Orioles. The Nationals would be more immediate to me, and I viewed their existence as a justified novelty: I long held that DC darned well deserved a team, and seeing as they would be brand-spanking new (except for the part about coming from Montreal), I wanted to explore them, get to know them, learn to admire them.
But would I love them? I couldn't answer that.
Did I love the Orioles? No, I never did, in retrospect. By definition (see below), I did not. I rooted for them, and there have been O's teams that I did thoroughly, completely enjoy. The best example would be the '89 team. Man, was that a fun team to follow, especially for a naive, unsophisticated thirteen year-old who memorized every fact, watched every play he could, followed them even when he spent six weeks visiting relatives in California.
But did I throw my unending loyalty to them, like my first friend cited above did to his cause? In the end, no.
Consequently, I kept answering questions like, "What happens when the Nats and O's play against each other?" with answers like, "I don't know; hasn't happened yet. I'm sure I'll rationalize something in my mind."
That's how I initially viewed the media stuff, too, you know. I thought Angelos was overreaching from the beginning---I'm not sure how anyone in good faith claim he wasn't---but I figured, I hoped, that things would evolve into an arrangement that was mutually beneficial and, more importantly, just.
It didn't happen that way. There's a difference between zealously advocating your position and willfully scattering feces all over the Persian rug. Angelos---clearly, objectively, definitely, and defiantly---has done the latter, and then some. He's also puked vile on that poor rug. Thing looks like it's been digested by the almighty Sarlaac.
Angelos has righteously earned my enmity. And that's not easy to do. First, I'm a pretty laid-back guy (this blog's more caustic posts notwithstanding). Second---and I don't want to overdo this angle, but it's out there---Angelos shares the same ethnicity as me, and it's not easy for a Greek to speak ill of another Greek in a public forum. (Behind one's back, yes, but . . . ) For pete's sake (no pun intended), in '88 we had life-long Republicans backing Dukakis---DUKAKIS!!!---just based on common ethnicity, cultural pride, etc. Maybe not the hard-core Republicans and conservatives, but lots and lots of others. I'm not criticizing it per se, but the instinct is there. My ancient boys instilled a lot of pride in us genetically; even I can't shake free of it completely.
So, there I was, faced with what I considered three eventualities:
1) "You're mad at Angelos now, and rightly so, but that'll wear away in time."
2) "Sure, you're mad at Angelos now, but there are a lot of players you like---Gibbons, Mora, Tejada, Ryan, Roberts. Heck, you've defended Matt Riley since '99. Come on now!"
3) "Sure, you're mad now, but this too will pass. A deal will be reached; your cooler side will prevail, and you're going to realize that you've invested a lot emotional energy rooting for them and intellectual energy learning about them. You're just being rash."
As it turns out, all three statements have merit. Standing alone, they would persuade me.
But another factor popped into my conscience. It didn't act to mitigate the situation. It didn't even counter-balance it. Instead, it blew the whole discussion to smithereens.
I love the Washington Nationals.
When there are two sides to a dispute and one side is clearly wrong, you can throw your support to the aggrieved party in the name of justice. Eventually, the aggitating party will relent or ameloriate, or the situation will otherwise resolve itself. Thereafter, the immediacy of the disagreement becomes less apparent, the issues become more cloudy or less important in context, and finally, you reflect and say, "Now, was that such a big deal?" I think most people, concsciously or unconsciously, experience this process.
The one wrinkle---and it's a significant one---is when you are intensely loyal to the aggrieved party, when you "love" it in one of the classical senses. When, in essence, loyalty will memorialize the dispute when logic looses its moorings.
But for my love for the Nationals, I could carry on with the Orioles as envisioned above. But for . . .
. . . my love for the Nationals. It has to be this way. I had an epiphany yesterday: I truly care. I care, deeply care: who hits lead-off, who's in center, whether Nick Johnson gets a real shot, how that big wing beloning to ¡LIVAN! performs, even when Vinny Castilla---of all people---will be one hundred percent.
Chris put it much better than I could---and in hundreds or thousands of fewer words, at that: EUREKA!
The Angelosians are pouncing on my boys, and I can't take that. And I won't forget it.
And so . . . that's that. I apologize to all the O's players I still admire; I can't root for your team anymore. I apologize to all of the great O's fans I've met over the years; I can't root with you anymore. For your sake, I won't hold any ill will; for instance, I'm not ordering any hits on the Warehouse, and I have no desire to see the O's go 25-137 or something like that. But, from now on, an AL East game is just . . . and AL East game. Except for when the O's play the Yankees; in that case, the game can be called on account of a Jeffrey Maier-Tony Tarrasco slow-dance in the right field corner, for all I care.
Well, that's it, guys. Via con dios.
* I'm not one to foreclose possibilities forever, though; should Angelos (and that includes his family and minions) ever sell out, I will reconsider my decision at that point---with the proviso that unless Angelos, heaven forfend, buys in to the Nationals, the Nationals will always be the clear and unmistakeable No. 1 in my heart, mind, soul, and pocketbook.
Yesterday, I was talking to a good buddy of mine. We go way back to my first day at GW, and we have the kind of friendship that, when we converse on an increasingly infrequent basis, we feel remorse for not keeping closer tabs. "I'm busy" is not an excuse, but a reason, after all. Well, in medias res, I discovered that he's very closely connected---in a sort of second-hand way, but still very closely connected---to a situation that is a major story in our nation's current events. I learned this after he asked me for my take on it, after I explained that I hadn't really been following it in tremendous detail, and after I began referring to it in an objectively removed manner.
After all of this, I learned that he had a very passionate opinion on the subject. The opinion is incredibly well-informed---granted, well-informed as to certain factual aspects from certain points of view; then again, maybe those points of view are correct. He argued his position very well, very passionately, and---though I took exception with some of his more legal and procedural claims generally---I could tell that, even if I were informed as to the fact, a) I probably would not prevail in a debate on the subject, and b) more importantly, I would never shake him of his belief, even if that were my intent.
So, after ensuring that I wasn't antagonizing him, I respected his opinions and dedication to the issue, and we moved on to talking about the opposite gender. Finer points in life, I guess.
Well, the situation had, in one of those off-hand ways, a profound effect on me. Combine it with the big baseball news from yesterday (provincially speaking, of course), and I realized that now is the time to confirm a notion that had festered for awhile. Now is the time to act.
I've decided to cease any semblance of fandom for, or devotion to, the Baltimore Orioles---indefinitely, subject to one future condition.* I just can't do it anymore.
The Nats are my only rooting concern now. (But more on them later.)
Some people---including that very friend from yesterday's conversation---view me as a guy who consciously attempts to balance the objective and subjective elements in my life. Maybe that's true; then again, maybe we choose our battles. I have another friend who is completely enamored of the Matrix stuff---the quasi-philosophical language, the deeper notions alluded to---and, while he acknowledges that the Waadklfdkfjski Bros. have not reached the very summit of rational discourse via the film medium, argues passionately that their crunk is deep stuff. My reaction is usually paraphrased as "Meh; I see what you're saying; I see lots of merit in what the detractors say, also." Is that me being objective? Or is it merely a reflection that I don't care about the issue?
Well, regardless, as I have stated on many occasions I intended to greet the Washington Nationals with attention, interest, and devotion---roughly the same ways I regarded the Orioles. The Nationals would be more immediate to me, and I viewed their existence as a justified novelty: I long held that DC darned well deserved a team, and seeing as they would be brand-spanking new (except for the part about coming from Montreal), I wanted to explore them, get to know them, learn to admire them.
But would I love them? I couldn't answer that.
Did I love the Orioles? No, I never did, in retrospect. By definition (see below), I did not. I rooted for them, and there have been O's teams that I did thoroughly, completely enjoy. The best example would be the '89 team. Man, was that a fun team to follow, especially for a naive, unsophisticated thirteen year-old who memorized every fact, watched every play he could, followed them even when he spent six weeks visiting relatives in California.
But did I throw my unending loyalty to them, like my first friend cited above did to his cause? In the end, no.
Consequently, I kept answering questions like, "What happens when the Nats and O's play against each other?" with answers like, "I don't know; hasn't happened yet. I'm sure I'll rationalize something in my mind."
That's how I initially viewed the media stuff, too, you know. I thought Angelos was overreaching from the beginning---I'm not sure how anyone in good faith claim he wasn't---but I figured, I hoped, that things would evolve into an arrangement that was mutually beneficial and, more importantly, just.
It didn't happen that way. There's a difference between zealously advocating your position and willfully scattering feces all over the Persian rug. Angelos---clearly, objectively, definitely, and defiantly---has done the latter, and then some. He's also puked vile on that poor rug. Thing looks like it's been digested by the almighty Sarlaac.
Angelos has righteously earned my enmity. And that's not easy to do. First, I'm a pretty laid-back guy (this blog's more caustic posts notwithstanding). Second---and I don't want to overdo this angle, but it's out there---Angelos shares the same ethnicity as me, and it's not easy for a Greek to speak ill of another Greek in a public forum. (Behind one's back, yes, but . . . ) For pete's sake (no pun intended), in '88 we had life-long Republicans backing Dukakis---DUKAKIS!!!---just based on common ethnicity, cultural pride, etc. Maybe not the hard-core Republicans and conservatives, but lots and lots of others. I'm not criticizing it per se, but the instinct is there. My ancient boys instilled a lot of pride in us genetically; even I can't shake free of it completely.
So, there I was, faced with what I considered three eventualities:
1) "You're mad at Angelos now, and rightly so, but that'll wear away in time."
2) "Sure, you're mad at Angelos now, but there are a lot of players you like---Gibbons, Mora, Tejada, Ryan, Roberts. Heck, you've defended Matt Riley since '99. Come on now!"
3) "Sure, you're mad now, but this too will pass. A deal will be reached; your cooler side will prevail, and you're going to realize that you've invested a lot emotional energy rooting for them and intellectual energy learning about them. You're just being rash."
As it turns out, all three statements have merit. Standing alone, they would persuade me.
But another factor popped into my conscience. It didn't act to mitigate the situation. It didn't even counter-balance it. Instead, it blew the whole discussion to smithereens.
I love the Washington Nationals.
When there are two sides to a dispute and one side is clearly wrong, you can throw your support to the aggrieved party in the name of justice. Eventually, the aggitating party will relent or ameloriate, or the situation will otherwise resolve itself. Thereafter, the immediacy of the disagreement becomes less apparent, the issues become more cloudy or less important in context, and finally, you reflect and say, "Now, was that such a big deal?" I think most people, concsciously or unconsciously, experience this process.
The one wrinkle---and it's a significant one---is when you are intensely loyal to the aggrieved party, when you "love" it in one of the classical senses. When, in essence, loyalty will memorialize the dispute when logic looses its moorings.
But for my love for the Nationals, I could carry on with the Orioles as envisioned above. But for . . .
. . . my love for the Nationals. It has to be this way. I had an epiphany yesterday: I truly care. I care, deeply care: who hits lead-off, who's in center, whether Nick Johnson gets a real shot, how that big wing beloning to ¡LIVAN! performs, even when Vinny Castilla---of all people---will be one hundred percent.
Chris put it much better than I could---and in hundreds or thousands of fewer words, at that: EUREKA!
The Angelosians are pouncing on my boys, and I can't take that. And I won't forget it.
And so . . . that's that. I apologize to all the O's players I still admire; I can't root for your team anymore. I apologize to all of the great O's fans I've met over the years; I can't root with you anymore. For your sake, I won't hold any ill will; for instance, I'm not ordering any hits on the Warehouse, and I have no desire to see the O's go 25-137 or something like that. But, from now on, an AL East game is just . . . and AL East game. Except for when the O's play the Yankees; in that case, the game can be called on account of a Jeffrey Maier-Tony Tarrasco slow-dance in the right field corner, for all I care.
Well, that's it, guys. Via con dios.
* I'm not one to foreclose possibilities forever, though; should Angelos (and that includes his family and minions) ever sell out, I will reconsider my decision at that point---with the proviso that unless Angelos, heaven forfend, buys in to the Nationals, the Nationals will always be the clear and unmistakeable No. 1 in my heart, mind, soul, and pocketbook.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Reflections on a tap dance
Schadenfreude doesn't feel so good, actually
Capitol Punishment Chris correctly perceived that I was quite pleased with the decision earlier this evening to demote Endy Chavez to Triple-A. Quite viciously pleased, actually; by my recollection, I said that Chavez "sucks" not once, but twice.
As far as starting centerfielder/lead-off hitters go, the assessment is basically correct. I looked at Chavez's comps by age awhile back. Beyond that, what is he? Curtis Goodwin? (Giving some batting average and taking some plate discipline.) Brian L. Hunter? (Except not as hell-bent on the base paths.)
Actually, Hunter is an interesting point of reference. Back in 1999, Robinson did some color commentary for FOX Sports. In one instance that stuck in my mind for no particular reason, Robinson worked a game in Seattle. Hunter, who was something of a sensation for the Tigers in 1997, when he hit for a decent average and led the American League in stolen bases, had recently dumped to the M's, who were experiencing a two-year moribund phase between Griffey's absolute peak and the Griffey trade. Robinson was curiously surprised that the Tigers traded Hunter, he indicated. I remember Robinson asking the play-by-play man, "Was it something about his average?" I left my viewing of the broadcast believing (and curiously surprised) that Robinson thought highly of Hunter as a big leaguer.
Well, Chavez is the same type of player. It's not much of a surprise, in hindsight, that was he willing to give Chavez the chance to prove himself. It is something of a surprise, though, that he cut bait on March 29.
Nevertheless---and I'll try not to over-dramatize this---I feel bad for my sheer elation earlier, all of it at Endy's expense. At least Ryan, demonstrating why he is a distinguished blogger, focused on the positive aspect of this transaction. No, it's not really that Endy has been thrown under a bus; it's that Ryan Church gets a chance, presumably, to prove his chops in the bigs.
I haven't checked in on MLB.com's Bill Ladson lately, but I figured I would tonight. Maybe I read between the reporters' lines too much, but compared to the work of his peers, Ladson's material regarding Chavez has consistently been more positive, less dire, and more understanding. Look here, for instance. Or, even more vividly, look at this comment in his mailbag published as recently as yesterday:
Maybe Ladson is just behind on the times (Robinson has recently complained of Chavez's lack of progress, as well as some indifferent play), but I prefer to think that he was subtly advocating for Endy all along. Sports writers are people, too.
And so, it was with a heavy heart that I read Ladson's article on Chavez's demotion tonight. I think I sympathize with Endy because I've had times in my life where I've simply come up short, where I just didn't possess the skills needed to excel at a given field no matter how passionately I viewed the situation:
Or maybe I sympathize with Endy because he's apparently rather blind to his situation:
Or maybe I shouldn't feel much sympathy for Endy at all:
(Note: Also take a look at the first linked Ladson article above. Endy sounds rather dismissive of the situation, saying he always struggles in spring training---he's always working on things and stuff like that. While I agree that one's spring training performance is a limited and somewhat lousy way to evaluate a player's worth, it was plain as day to everyone interested that Chavez was thrown into an open or semi-open competition all along.)
So, what's the point? The point is that, irrational exuberance aside, I take no joy in anyone's failure---with the possible exception of Peter Angelos, of course. I still maintain---and wholeheartedly agree with the Nats' blogosphere---that Chavez's demotion is nothing but good news for the organization; it means, in a manner of speaking, that these guys aren't frickin' around. Nevertheless, none of us wish any kind of pox on the guy, and maybe---later and perhaps in a different organization, or perhaps Washington's---he can realize some worth in a part-time role better suited to his limited abilities.
---I'm not sure how to approach this, since Nationals Inquirer has never been publicized before, but William Beutler provided a neat little sample of some Nats blogs on DCist.com, and this one ("tawdrily---and appropriately---named") was included. The commenters seem displeased that none of us mentioned live inside the District, but---as my ol' granny loves to say---ti na kano? ("what can you do?"). We live where we live; we are who we are. That said, I want to express my gratitude to Mr. Beutler for noticing this rather spartan and sometimes spiteful blog---and to note that there are several others that deserve the attention, too.
---Speaking of Nats blogs, there's a new Nats blog-plus in town, The Washington Nationals Fan Site. Paul, the guy over there, seems like a really nice fellow, and I anticipate that the site will start filling up pretty soon.
---Speaking of bloggers being publicized, Seth Stohs, mastermind of Twins- (and other stuff) related SethSpeaks.net was recently profiled in his hometown newspaper in Minnesota. Seth seems like a nice chap---I've exchanged a couple of emails with him after discovering him via the Baseball Savant, an equally nice chap---and he does very good work on his site, so it's nice to see him get some pub. I speak only for myself here, but while I certainly don't do this with any expectation of being noticed to any great extent, actually being noticed for the work you do engenders a naturally satisfying reaction.
---Well, it's getting late now, and that's all I have for tonight. Preview for tomorrow? We'll have either:
a) a review of Baseball Prospectus 2005 (a largely Nats-centric one), or
b) a post on shedding interest in the Orioles (or, rather, having it shed from my conscience by perfidy).
As an added bonus (for the low, low price of . . . NOTHING!), we might get a little look at Steroids Scandal, NFL-Style.
Capitol Punishment Chris correctly perceived that I was quite pleased with the decision earlier this evening to demote Endy Chavez to Triple-A. Quite viciously pleased, actually; by my recollection, I said that Chavez "sucks" not once, but twice.
As far as starting centerfielder/lead-off hitters go, the assessment is basically correct. I looked at Chavez's comps by age awhile back. Beyond that, what is he? Curtis Goodwin? (Giving some batting average and taking some plate discipline.) Brian L. Hunter? (Except not as hell-bent on the base paths.)
Actually, Hunter is an interesting point of reference. Back in 1999, Robinson did some color commentary for FOX Sports. In one instance that stuck in my mind for no particular reason, Robinson worked a game in Seattle. Hunter, who was something of a sensation for the Tigers in 1997, when he hit for a decent average and led the American League in stolen bases, had recently dumped to the M's, who were experiencing a two-year moribund phase between Griffey's absolute peak and the Griffey trade. Robinson was curiously surprised that the Tigers traded Hunter, he indicated. I remember Robinson asking the play-by-play man, "Was it something about his average?" I left my viewing of the broadcast believing (and curiously surprised) that Robinson thought highly of Hunter as a big leaguer.
Well, Chavez is the same type of player. It's not much of a surprise, in hindsight, that was he willing to give Chavez the chance to prove himself. It is something of a surprise, though, that he cut bait on March 29.
Nevertheless---and I'll try not to over-dramatize this---I feel bad for my sheer elation earlier, all of it at Endy's expense. At least Ryan, demonstrating why he is a distinguished blogger, focused on the positive aspect of this transaction. No, it's not really that Endy has been thrown under a bus; it's that Ryan Church gets a chance, presumably, to prove his chops in the bigs.
I haven't checked in on MLB.com's Bill Ladson lately, but I figured I would tonight. Maybe I read between the reporters' lines too much, but compared to the work of his peers, Ladson's material regarding Chavez has consistently been more positive, less dire, and more understanding. Look here, for instance. Or, even more vividly, look at this comment in his mailbag published as recently as yesterday:
As for Chavez, he will be given a chance to be the leadoff hitter for a while. Robinson is a patient man and feels that Chavez has improved at the plate. Robinson said that Chavez has been showing more patience by working the count.
Maybe Ladson is just behind on the times (Robinson has recently complained of Chavez's lack of progress, as well as some indifferent play), but I prefer to think that he was subtly advocating for Endy all along. Sports writers are people, too.
And so, it was with a heavy heart that I read Ladson's article on Chavez's demotion tonight. I think I sympathize with Endy because I've had times in my life where I've simply come up short, where I just didn't possess the skills needed to excel at a given field no matter how passionately I viewed the situation:
"We tried everything we could for Endy to be our center fielder. We wanted him to get on base more. We didn't see the adjustments," interim general manager Jim Bowden said. "We are not going to score enough runs if we don't do something about this offense. He needs to go down to Triple-A and he needs to work on his game, learn to get on base. He needs to score more runs for him to help us. "
Or maybe I sympathize with Endy because he's apparently rather blind to his situation:
Chavez suggested Bowden trade him, but Bowden told Chavez that no teams were interested in his services. "[I told Endy], 'Other clubs view you the same way as we do. We talked to many clubs about you. They want to see you get on base like we do. So instead of complaining, let's look in the minors,
recognize what we have done and work on your game. You need to get better to start in the big leagues,'" Bowden said.
Or maybe I shouldn't feel much sympathy for Endy at all:
Manager Frank Robinson said Chavez indicated to him that he wasn't worried about losing his job and was just getting ready for the season.
(Note: Also take a look at the first linked Ladson article above. Endy sounds rather dismissive of the situation, saying he always struggles in spring training---he's always working on things and stuff like that. While I agree that one's spring training performance is a limited and somewhat lousy way to evaluate a player's worth, it was plain as day to everyone interested that Chavez was thrown into an open or semi-open competition all along.)
So, what's the point? The point is that, irrational exuberance aside, I take no joy in anyone's failure---with the possible exception of Peter Angelos, of course. I still maintain---and wholeheartedly agree with the Nats' blogosphere---that Chavez's demotion is nothing but good news for the organization; it means, in a manner of speaking, that these guys aren't frickin' around. Nevertheless, none of us wish any kind of pox on the guy, and maybe---later and perhaps in a different organization, or perhaps Washington's---he can realize some worth in a part-time role better suited to his limited abilities.
---I'm not sure how to approach this, since Nationals Inquirer has never been publicized before, but William Beutler provided a neat little sample of some Nats blogs on DCist.com, and this one ("tawdrily---and appropriately---named") was included. The commenters seem displeased that none of us mentioned live inside the District, but---as my ol' granny loves to say---ti na kano? ("what can you do?"). We live where we live; we are who we are. That said, I want to express my gratitude to Mr. Beutler for noticing this rather spartan and sometimes spiteful blog---and to note that there are several others that deserve the attention, too.
---Speaking of Nats blogs, there's a new Nats blog-plus in town, The Washington Nationals Fan Site. Paul, the guy over there, seems like a really nice fellow, and I anticipate that the site will start filling up pretty soon.
---Speaking of bloggers being publicized, Seth Stohs, mastermind of Twins- (and other stuff) related SethSpeaks.net was recently profiled in his hometown newspaper in Minnesota. Seth seems like a nice chap---I've exchanged a couple of emails with him after discovering him via the Baseball Savant, an equally nice chap---and he does very good work on his site, so it's nice to see him get some pub. I speak only for myself here, but while I certainly don't do this with any expectation of being noticed to any great extent, actually being noticed for the work you do engenders a naturally satisfying reaction.
---Well, it's getting late now, and that's all I have for tonight. Preview for tomorrow? We'll have either:
a) a review of Baseball Prospectus 2005 (a largely Nats-centric one), or
b) a post on shedding interest in the Orioles (or, rather, having it shed from my conscience by perfidy).
As an added bonus (for the low, low price of . . . NOTHING!), we might get a little look at Steroids Scandal, NFL-Style.
EndyWatch: OVER!!!!!!!!
As Hawk Harrelson would say, "He gone!"
From Sir Barry of the Post:
Jim Bowden characterized this as something of a message-sending decision; if you're not performing, you don't play for the Big Dog. Well, Chavez certainly wasn't performing, but let's call a pig a pig here:
HE SUCKS.
Everyone knows it. You can say it more tactfully, and everyone---from Bowden/Robinson to all the beat writers---has. It's Bill Ladson's favorite hobby over at MLB.com. But, at the end of the day, if Chavez is your regular lead-off hitter, then:
YOUR REGULAR LEAD-OFF HITTER SUCKS.
It's just the way he is.
Maybe he can help out as a fifth outfielder/pinch-runner/defensive sub. Now, that, he can do. Anyway, upon learning the news, Chavez was---to use sportswriterspeak---rather taciturn:
We give him a hard time, we jerk bloggers, but deep down you have to feel for the guy. He's one of the 500 best baseball players in the world, give or take; he's just not a starting centerfielder.
What's next? Well, Terrmel Sledge is presumably still a "complete player" in Robinson's judgment, but he's apparently not getting a full-time job out of it:
Considering Church has an option (year) remaining, that's big news. Let's see what he can do. I'd say there's a distinct possibility of a trade in the works; it seems a reasonable way for this to go, and we are talking about our AD/HD GM here.
Oh yeah: Big Jon Rauch and Gary Majewski also got the death-o-gram, too. So the pitching staff is now set, and so are the position players---for now, at least.
And who said nothing happens during spring training?
From Sir Barry of the Post:
The Washington Nationals instigated a dramatic overhaul of their stagnant offense Tuesday, sending center fielder Endy Chavez -- the presumed lead-off hitter -- to Class AAA New Orleans, all but granting the center field spot to Ryan Church, who looked unlikely to make the club as recently as last weekend. With Opening Day just six days away, the lineup is now in disarray.
Jim Bowden characterized this as something of a message-sending decision; if you're not performing, you don't play for the Big Dog. Well, Chavez certainly wasn't performing, but let's call a pig a pig here:
HE SUCKS.
Everyone knows it. You can say it more tactfully, and everyone---from Bowden/Robinson to all the beat writers---has. It's Bill Ladson's favorite hobby over at MLB.com. But, at the end of the day, if Chavez is your regular lead-off hitter, then:
YOUR REGULAR LEAD-OFF HITTER SUCKS.
It's just the way he is.
Maybe he can help out as a fifth outfielder/pinch-runner/defensive sub. Now, that, he can do. Anyway, upon learning the news, Chavez was---to use sportswriterspeak---rather taciturn:
"I'm not going to answer nothing," he said after packing his bag. "I don't want to."
We give him a hard time, we jerk bloggers, but deep down you have to feel for the guy. He's one of the 500 best baseball players in the world, give or take; he's just not a starting centerfielder.
What's next? Well, Terrmel Sledge is presumably still a "complete player" in Robinson's judgment, but he's apparently not getting a full-time job out of it:
Robinson indicated that his preference would be to play Church, 26, in center, leaving Wilkerson in left, and keep Terrmel Sledge as the fourth outfielder. Church hit .343 with 17 homers in 347 at-bats with Class AAA Edmonton last year, but just .175 after being recalled to Montreal.
Considering Church has an option (year) remaining, that's big news. Let's see what he can do. I'd say there's a distinct possibility of a trade in the works; it seems a reasonable way for this to go, and we are talking about our AD/HD GM here.
Oh yeah: Big Jon Rauch and Gary Majewski also got the death-o-gram, too. So the pitching staff is now set, and so are the position players---for now, at least.
And who said nothing happens during spring training?
A George O'Leary moment?
Who is Jim Williams? Is he the guy who tests stun guns on pigs?
Because one DCRTV mailbag writer doesn't necessarily think he's a television sports insider:
Nevertheless, I'd consider it rather likely that Williams is who his bio says he is.
But if he is not, then isn't he the spot-on, spit-kickin'est, perfect symbol of this mess? Angelos is the symbol of wild-a$$ claims; MLB is the symbol of pathetic inaction. It stands to reason that a self-proclaimed "insider" on the situation would be a guy whose published views on the subject are a collaberation of false claims on his resume and complete inaction by his publisher to check them.
Because one DCRTV mailbag writer doesn't necessarily think he's a television sports insider:
WHO is Jim Williams of the DC Examiner sports section? I have worked in sports TV in this region for 20 years, for HTS, ESPN, ESPN2,ESPN U,
Comcast, WTTG, NBC, WRC, CH 20, Fox, MCI Center, Cap Center, RFK, Camden Yards and every college with a division 1 or 2 athletic program. NOBODY I know who works in this region knows of this guy. I am not slamming him, although he is SO OFF target with his announcements of talent for the Nats radio and frankly the entire coverage of the negotiations. I am just curious about his credentials. When I google him, I can't find anything on him except his stories and his claims to 7 emmys........
Nevertheless, I'd consider it rather likely that Williams is who his bio says he is.
But if he is not, then isn't he the spot-on, spit-kickin'est, perfect symbol of this mess? Angelos is the symbol of wild-a$$ claims; MLB is the symbol of pathetic inaction. It stands to reason that a self-proclaimed "insider" on the situation would be a guy whose published views on the subject are a collaberation of false claims on his resume and complete inaction by his publisher to check them.
Crisis! Give me McGyver . . . McBain . . . somebody!
Resolved: it's time to sweep the leg
In today's news, there's a flurry of Nats/O's television-related (in)activity, right down to a second WaPo editorial in recent weeks on the madness. It reads like the editorial writer attended a Bill Ladson seminar on recycling material, but the remedy suggested this time sounds appropriately undiplomatic for the late (late, late) stage of the game. As always, District of Baseball and Yurasko are the fast-triggers here---almost as fast as the source material itself, remarkably.
By the way, the lead of this Thom. Heath article from the Post would almost be funny . . .
Oh, and remember all those promises from Bob DuPuy that the opener would be televised locally in DC? Well, Bob's still promisin'; then again, Dayn Perry could make a promise to himself to become the wardrobe designer for the Laker Girls, but that doesn't mean it's happenin'. And, sure enough, the Wash. Times tells us the opening might not be on local TV. But don't worry: Comcast Sports Net can televise things on short notice---assuming there's a deal in place before the opener. Or maybe MLB will finagle a DC outlet for the Philly broadcast; considering how incredibly Nats-centric the spring training games as a part of the O's CcSn deal have been, oh, I'm sure that'll satisfy Nats' fans---of course, the article informs us that it's not like the Philly rightsholder station has been contacted by MLB or anything.
I swear, the Seligulans running MLB is roughly equivalent to Paris Hilton running NASA.
---The N.Y. Post chimed in with a happy profile of Jim Bowden yesterday. Give Kevin Kernan, the profile writer, credit, I guess: by my recollection, he's the first writer to compare Jim Bowden's status to that of a foster parent:
Anyway, Bowden likes to invoke the 1999 Reds a lot, no doubt because they were a stellar, underbudgeted team; such a combination (rightly) makes a GM look good, and I think that season was the apex of Bowden's repuatation as a baseball executive; I can't recall if he won Executive of the Year for '99, but he would have had a good case.
Viewing history through a cold stats sheet is no doubt imperfect, but maybe it's preferable to the quick recollections of a guy who fires off the name "Pokey Reese" as one of three players cited for a team's success. Plus, 1999 isn't that far removed; I'd guess many of us remember the talking points for the Reds' success that year, primarily:
Jack McKeon's incredible use of the bullpen.
By Bowden's own assessment at the time, McKeon's "unconventional" bullpen usage was the key to the team's success:
Undoubtedly, if you follow baseball closely, you remember Cincinnati's bullpen in 1999. That old fart McKeon made them look like something out of the 1970s. Two pitchers, Scott Sullivan and nominal closer Danny Graves, topped 100 innings pitched. (And not only "topped," but "hurdled"; both tossed more than 110 IP.) Rookie of the Year and uber-set-up man (12 wins, 19 saves) Scott Williamson almost made it there, too; he finished with 93.1 IP. McKeon had two lefties, but neither Gabe White nor Dennys Reyes was used as a LaRussian LOOGY. (White averaged well over an inning per appearance, and Reyes---the purported LOOGY---was just below a 1:1 ratio.) And that was pretty much it, with the exception of Stan Belinda, who was torched over his 29 appearances but still averaged about an inning-and-a-half per outing. (Starters Brett Tomko and Ron Villone---second and third on the team in innings pitched, respectively---both appeared as relievers seven times, as well.)
What did Bowden have to do with this allocation-of-resources decision? By his own admission at the time, zippy:
Charitably speaking, Bowden probably gets indirect credit, in the sense that he traded away incumbent closer Jeff Shaw in July of 1998. Bowden displayed some foresight here--- especially back then, when I recall the Proven Closer(tm) tag was more universally respected; nowadays, I think, more people recognize that if you take a dime-a-dozen middle man and give him the usually pat three-out opportunities, he can save 35-40 games faster than you can spell "Borowski." But, back then, I remember a lot of writers opining that Tommy Lasorda (remember when he was briefly LA's GM?) fleeced Bowden because the former picked up a reliable closer (in lieu of our very own Antonio Osuna) for "very little" (Konerko and Reyes, among others).
Anyway, there was a lot of press attention also given to the up-the-middle improvements represented by Reese and Cameron (acquired for Konerko), yes, but there was just as much given to the "veteran leadership" of Greg Vaughn, Barry Larkin, and Pete Harnisch---to say nothing of career half-seasons by Jeffrey Hammonds (speak of the Zephyr!) and Steve Parris. (Who?)
Well, this is getting long; my only point is that, aside from early happy feelings, I'm not sure how this Nationals team resembles that Reds team.
---Oh, and one more thing about this N.Y. Post article: It mentions that Johnson needs to get healthy, or else he'll just be "another overrated Yankee prospect."
Even acknowledging that the Yankees have overrated (and subsequently traded) just about every sentient to grace their farm system in the past decade, unless you believe that "health" is a "skill," Kernan is incredibly unfair to Johnson. The guy put up a 141 OPS+ in the big leagues at age 24, after all. I realize that it's dump-on-Johnson-time this offseason, and I'm with you when you think, "Sheesh, it's really disappointing that Nick can't stay healthy," but there's just no evidence---based on his minor and major league performance, when healthy---he was ever overrated.
In today's news, there's a flurry of Nats/O's television-related (in)activity, right down to a second WaPo editorial in recent weeks on the madness. It reads like the editorial writer attended a Bill Ladson seminar on recycling material, but the remedy suggested this time sounds appropriately undiplomatic for the late (late, late) stage of the game. As always, District of Baseball and Yurasko are the fast-triggers here---almost as fast as the source material itself, remarkably.
By the way, the lead of this Thom. Heath article from the Post would almost be funny . . .
Kevin Cohan has been getting two very unusual phone pitches every day for the past week. One call to the managing partner of the Jim Coleman chain of auto dealerships comes from Comcast SportsNet, telling Cohan his company should be prepared to advertise on its new regional sports network that will include Washington Nationals baseball games. The other phone call is from the Baltimore Orioles, telling Cohan that they are going to own the regional sports network that carries the Nationals' games and that Cohan needs to buy the commercials through them.. . . if it weren't so sad.
Oh, and remember all those promises from Bob DuPuy that the opener would be televised locally in DC? Well, Bob's still promisin'; then again, Dayn Perry could make a promise to himself to become the wardrobe designer for the Laker Girls, but that doesn't mean it's happenin'. And, sure enough, the Wash. Times tells us the opening might not be on local TV. But don't worry: Comcast Sports Net can televise things on short notice---assuming there's a deal in place before the opener. Or maybe MLB will finagle a DC outlet for the Philly broadcast; considering how incredibly Nats-centric the spring training games as a part of the O's CcSn deal have been, oh, I'm sure that'll satisfy Nats' fans---of course, the article informs us that it's not like the Philly rightsholder station has been contacted by MLB or anything.
I swear, the Seligulans running MLB is roughly equivalent to Paris Hilton running NASA.
---The N.Y. Post chimed in with a happy profile of Jim Bowden yesterday. Give Kevin Kernan, the profile writer, credit, I guess: by my recollection, he's the first writer to compare Jim Bowden's status to that of a foster parent:
Bowden hopes the additions he has made, with the helpful guidance of special assistants Barry Larkin, Jose Rijo and Bob Boone, will turn the Nationals into his 1999 Reds. Bowden gambled that he could find success in players like Jose Guillen, Cristian Guzman, Vinny Castilla, Wil Cordero and ex-Yankee Esteban Loaiza.It's probably too much to expect a sportswriter---much less a writer for the N.Y. Post---to display some internal consistency, but it's worth pointing out that we've got the a) sportswriter invoking comparisons to the '99 Reds, b) Bowden saying that team's success came from young players maturing quickly, and c) the sportswriter citing recent signings of, mainly, . . . older players.
In many ways this team is the baseball version of the Island of Misfit Toys — and Bowden is the club's foster parent, seeing it through. "Our '99 team in Cincinnati wasn't expected to do anything and they won 96 games," says Omar Minaya's replacement. "Why? Because [Mike] Cameron and Pokey
[Reese] and Sean Casey all came together at once. They made the adjustments. I've had other clubs with young players who don't make the adjustments, and those players get replaced."
Anyway, Bowden likes to invoke the 1999 Reds a lot, no doubt because they were a stellar, underbudgeted team; such a combination (rightly) makes a GM look good, and I think that season was the apex of Bowden's repuatation as a baseball executive; I can't recall if he won Executive of the Year for '99, but he would have had a good case.
Viewing history through a cold stats sheet is no doubt imperfect, but maybe it's preferable to the quick recollections of a guy who fires off the name "Pokey Reese" as one of three players cited for a team's success. Plus, 1999 isn't that far removed; I'd guess many of us remember the talking points for the Reds' success that year, primarily:
Jack McKeon's incredible use of the bullpen.
By Bowden's own assessment at the time, McKeon's "unconventional" bullpen usage was the key to the team's success:
The bullpen has been phenomenal,” Reds General Manager Jim Bowden said. “It's the reason we're where we are.”
Undoubtedly, if you follow baseball closely, you remember Cincinnati's bullpen in 1999. That old fart McKeon made them look like something out of the 1970s. Two pitchers, Scott Sullivan and nominal closer Danny Graves, topped 100 innings pitched. (And not only "topped," but "hurdled"; both tossed more than 110 IP.) Rookie of the Year and uber-set-up man (12 wins, 19 saves) Scott Williamson almost made it there, too; he finished with 93.1 IP. McKeon had two lefties, but neither Gabe White nor Dennys Reyes was used as a LaRussian LOOGY. (White averaged well over an inning per appearance, and Reyes---the purported LOOGY---was just below a 1:1 ratio.) And that was pretty much it, with the exception of Stan Belinda, who was torched over his 29 appearances but still averaged about an inning-and-a-half per outing. (Starters Brett Tomko and Ron Villone---second and third on the team in innings pitched, respectively---both appeared as relievers seven times, as well.)
What did Bowden have to do with this allocation-of-resources decision? By his own admission at the time, zippy:
Bowden gives the credit for the success of the bullpen to Reds manager Jack McKeon and pitching coach Don Gullett. “It's a reflection on (McKeon and Gullett),” he said. “One of the hardest things to do in baseball is to try to develop your bullpen at the big-league level.”
Charitably speaking, Bowden probably gets indirect credit, in the sense that he traded away incumbent closer Jeff Shaw in July of 1998. Bowden displayed some foresight here--- especially back then, when I recall the Proven Closer(tm) tag was more universally respected; nowadays, I think, more people recognize that if you take a dime-a-dozen middle man and give him the usually pat three-out opportunities, he can save 35-40 games faster than you can spell "Borowski." But, back then, I remember a lot of writers opining that Tommy Lasorda (remember when he was briefly LA's GM?) fleeced Bowden because the former picked up a reliable closer (in lieu of our very own Antonio Osuna) for "very little" (Konerko and Reyes, among others).
Anyway, there was a lot of press attention also given to the up-the-middle improvements represented by Reese and Cameron (acquired for Konerko), yes, but there was just as much given to the "veteran leadership" of Greg Vaughn, Barry Larkin, and Pete Harnisch---to say nothing of career half-seasons by Jeffrey Hammonds (speak of the Zephyr!) and Steve Parris. (Who?)
Well, this is getting long; my only point is that, aside from early happy feelings, I'm not sure how this Nationals team resembles that Reds team.
---Oh, and one more thing about this N.Y. Post article: It mentions that Johnson needs to get healthy, or else he'll just be "another overrated Yankee prospect."
Even acknowledging that the Yankees have overrated (and subsequently traded) just about every sentient to grace their farm system in the past decade, unless you believe that "health" is a "skill," Kernan is incredibly unfair to Johnson. The guy put up a 141 OPS+ in the big leagues at age 24, after all. I realize that it's dump-on-Johnson-time this offseason, and I'm with you when you think, "Sheesh, it's really disappointing that Nick can't stay healthy," but there's just no evidence---based on his minor and major league performance, when healthy---he was ever overrated.
Monday, March 28, 2005
On being a GW basketball fan, Part III
After further review . . .
. . . it didn't matter.
Wow, what a weekend!
On a related note---
Part III: 1998-99; 2004-05
I graduated from George Washington in May of 1998, but strangely enough, I was back on campus two days after commencement. (Speaker: Bob Dole. Bet with friend: whether he'd mention Viagra. Verdict: he didn't. Winner: me.) I would manage a dorm on campus for the summer; well, it was initially one, but it later became two.
The Mike Jarvis Era essentially ended with a bit of a whimper, a double-digit loss to Oklahoma St. in March. It ended officially in June of 1998, when he took over at St. Johns. I specifically recall conversations with friends at precisely that time; the first dorm I managed had a basketball court to its side, and several of us would play in the early evenings. The consensus was that the Colonials had become a trudging, boring team in the past two seasons, and the new man at the helm should be someone inclined to pick up the pace.
Well, if that's what the team needed, then that's what the team got: Tom Penders architect of the "BMW: The Ultimate Scoring Machine" team at Texas in 1990. Penders was also an Atlantic Ten veteran, coaching some pretty good Rhode Island teams during the (charitably speaking) "down years" for the Colonials in the 1980s.
By the start of the season, I still had a GW student ID card (through some sort of glitch, I was still coded into every single building on campus, even after the summer was over), I still had many friends on campus, I lived in an apartment just off of campus, and I worked about a seven minute walk from campus. I went to a lot of games during the '98-99 season, and it was maybe the most fun I had watching GW basketball during my years in Washington.
The Colonials were not just good, but flashy good. Little point man Shawnta Rogers had spent the past three seasons refining his game, improving his shot, and learning to be a tremendously tenacious rebounder for a guy no taller than my grandmother. Rogers, like most everybody else, was a holdover from the Jarvis years, but he clicked like he hadn't since first appearing for the Colonials in early 1995.
The A-10's focus and powerbase had started to shift south and west by now; Temple was still around, but UMass had ceded to Rhode Island the distinction of second northeastern power, and Rhode Island, while explosive at times, was nothing like UMass two or three years earlier. When I came to campus, the edges and hot buttons were the words "Temple" and "UMass"; by the time I left, "Xavier" was a dirty word.
And did those guys ever earn the distinction, because they were a dirty lot; Skip Prosser coached those guys up that way. There's no kind way of saying it---Prosser had a gang of thugs.
Wouldn't you know that the season hung in the balance against Xavier? One game remained in the regular season, at the Smith Center. The winner won the A-10 West and pretty much wrapped up an at-large bid. Rogers and James Posey of Xavier were the best players in the league, so the member of the winning team likely would claim conference player-of-the-year honors, too.
It's my understanding---though I could have heard incorrectly---that the DC media covered the GW team fairly well this season; if so, it was probably the first time since 1999. Shawnta Rogers was a neat story (not only his rather distinct size, but also that he worked his way to relative success in the classroom and was a great floor leader), and no neater story could have occurred than transpired that late February/early March day. Remember when Michael Jordan had that unconscious game against Utah, despite the flu? That was Shawnta Rogers, a year or two later.
Actually, it wasn't Rogers's best game, but it was the most perfect finish one could imagine: He nailed a three at the buzzer to win the game! The noise was absolutely deafening, louder even than The UMass Game. The ESPN announcers (one of whom, Dave Simms, is a very good announcer, but infuriated me when he declared the '98 A-10 Final vs. Xavier "an X kind of day," whatever that meant) literally jumped out of their chairs. It was incredible, to say the least. The Hatchet runs a site that lists the top ten games and players in GW history, and that game propelled Shawnta Rogers into the top five---at least---on both lists.
GW would make the NCAA tournament; Xavier wouldn't. Heh.
We drove up to Philly the next week for the A-10 semifinals. To paraphrase Al Pacino's character in "City Hall," we expected a quick sojourn through Rhode Island and a longer engagement with Temple in the final. Well, we got a quick sojourn, alright. Lamar Odom and Co. broke it open six minutes in, if that. (Odom subsequently hit a miracle three against Temple to put Rhode Island back in the Big Dance; those guys, without Odom, I believe, had come oh-so-close against Stanford in the Elite Eight the previous season---just another near-miss in that round for the A-10 in the last generation, most involving Temple.)
Just a slight blip, right? Nope. The Colonials drew Indiana and just got gassed in the first round of the NCAA tournament, 108-88. Giving up 108 points to Indiana is like, I don't know, allowing the '04 Expos to hang a 15-spot on you. GW played like it had never seen a back-door cut before. It got so bad that a significant grassroots effort emerged to pop in "Dead Man on Campus", which my roommate rented for probably no reason other than "Saved by the Bell" nostalgia. The GW game carried the day (or night), but just barely.
I'd like to say I kept up as fervently after that, but I guessed I just moved on to a new phase in life; I think that, for a year, I wanted to believe I was still in college. Or maybe the Colonials weren't as easy on the eyes. Probably both.
The 1999-00 season brought this chuckster named SirValiant Brown to Foggy Bottom. He picked up some headlines because of his quirky name and a gaudy scoring average, but he was nothing more than a poor man's version of Allen Iverson's worst basketball qualities. Watching him go 9-for-27 in February of 2000 would have been like expecting George Michael synth-pop to come on MTV in 1995. No dice.
The team became a charicature of what we hoped for when he pined for an "up-tempo" team. Replace "up-tempo" with "sloppy," and you've got it. There was an A-10 tourney game, maybe in 2001, when post man Patrick Ngongba---dubbed "The Human Turnover" by us when he debuted in Jarvis's last season---post the team the game and the season by fouling a three-point shooter or something equally nonsensical at the end of the game.
I lost interest during the 1999-2002 years, or thereabouts; I couldn't even tell you if Val Brown stuck around for two or three years. I do know, and most everybody realized, that his contemporary, Chris Monroe (imagine Shawnta Rogers a foot taller and more of a swingman), was the only reason to watch the team.
Penders left after the 2001 season, replaced by former UConn assistant Karl Hobbs, who goes way back with Jarvis (who, by the way, is now an ESPN analyst---and a pretty good one). This was the first season after I moved back to Richmond, and I confess that I faced a conflict of interest: Richmond joined the A-10 for the '01-02 season, and they were good right off the bat. Richmond and GW, both situated in the West division, play home-and-home, twice a year.
Since exiting boyhood, I've lost much of my ability to root passionately and subjectively for a team; blame it on sabermetrics, I think. GW basketball is the exception, but some of that link---to be honest---was cut when I backed away from campus, and more of it was cut when I moved back to Richmond. I actually rediscovered some of that passion for GW this year, and I think I'm getting it back fully now for the Nats. (For instance, I entered Nats' fandom with the attitude that my interest in the Orioles---existing since childhood---could sustain itself. I am discovering that this is not the case. Expect a post on this soon.)
Well, I have two alma matters now: GW undergrad and Richmond law. During '01-04, I rooted selectively---basically, whichever team needed the game more, I rooted for that team. I know that sounds bad, but it's reasonable to an extent. Spiders basketball is big down here---it's a very proud program, especially in light of its national reputation in postseason play---and I grew up surrounded by it. If anything, GW is the interloper, at least from a certain point of view.
To be frank, Richmond was the better team during '01-04, and this not being the ACC or SEC or Big Ten or Big East, Richmond needed every win it could get---including against GW. And it paid off: Richmond made the '04 tournament as an at-large in 2004, something it hadn't done since 1986.
So, what was the '04-05 season? Was it a resurgence in my avidity to GW basketball? Or was it a response to a down year by Richmond? I suppose I shouldn't analyze the situation too much; after all, I learned to love a new generation of GW players, and that is enough.
And, so, there I was two Fridays ago---watching a game on television, but not the game being shown. Whereas the images of Old Dominion and Michigan St. were filling the screen, I was concentrating on the far top corner of the screen, little tiny type and a running clock of a game taking place not in Worchester but in Nashville. That is how I "watched" GW's first round game vs. Georgia Tech. That is how I remained hope as the Colonials stayed within two-to-five points of Tech most of the game; that is how I become despondent when, over the course of four minutes, the score progressed from 57-56, to
59-56, to
61-56, to
64-56, to
67-56, and finally to
69-56.
It was a hard way to take a defeat; then again, it was a fan's way to take a defeat.
. . . it didn't matter.
Wow, what a weekend!
On a related note---
Part III: 1998-99; 2004-05
I graduated from George Washington in May of 1998, but strangely enough, I was back on campus two days after commencement. (Speaker: Bob Dole. Bet with friend: whether he'd mention Viagra. Verdict: he didn't. Winner: me.) I would manage a dorm on campus for the summer; well, it was initially one, but it later became two.
The Mike Jarvis Era essentially ended with a bit of a whimper, a double-digit loss to Oklahoma St. in March. It ended officially in June of 1998, when he took over at St. Johns. I specifically recall conversations with friends at precisely that time; the first dorm I managed had a basketball court to its side, and several of us would play in the early evenings. The consensus was that the Colonials had become a trudging, boring team in the past two seasons, and the new man at the helm should be someone inclined to pick up the pace.
Well, if that's what the team needed, then that's what the team got: Tom Penders architect of the "BMW: The Ultimate Scoring Machine" team at Texas in 1990. Penders was also an Atlantic Ten veteran, coaching some pretty good Rhode Island teams during the (charitably speaking) "down years" for the Colonials in the 1980s.
By the start of the season, I still had a GW student ID card (through some sort of glitch, I was still coded into every single building on campus, even after the summer was over), I still had many friends on campus, I lived in an apartment just off of campus, and I worked about a seven minute walk from campus. I went to a lot of games during the '98-99 season, and it was maybe the most fun I had watching GW basketball during my years in Washington.
The Colonials were not just good, but flashy good. Little point man Shawnta Rogers had spent the past three seasons refining his game, improving his shot, and learning to be a tremendously tenacious rebounder for a guy no taller than my grandmother. Rogers, like most everybody else, was a holdover from the Jarvis years, but he clicked like he hadn't since first appearing for the Colonials in early 1995.
The A-10's focus and powerbase had started to shift south and west by now; Temple was still around, but UMass had ceded to Rhode Island the distinction of second northeastern power, and Rhode Island, while explosive at times, was nothing like UMass two or three years earlier. When I came to campus, the edges and hot buttons were the words "Temple" and "UMass"; by the time I left, "Xavier" was a dirty word.
And did those guys ever earn the distinction, because they were a dirty lot; Skip Prosser coached those guys up that way. There's no kind way of saying it---Prosser had a gang of thugs.
Wouldn't you know that the season hung in the balance against Xavier? One game remained in the regular season, at the Smith Center. The winner won the A-10 West and pretty much wrapped up an at-large bid. Rogers and James Posey of Xavier were the best players in the league, so the member of the winning team likely would claim conference player-of-the-year honors, too.
It's my understanding---though I could have heard incorrectly---that the DC media covered the GW team fairly well this season; if so, it was probably the first time since 1999. Shawnta Rogers was a neat story (not only his rather distinct size, but also that he worked his way to relative success in the classroom and was a great floor leader), and no neater story could have occurred than transpired that late February/early March day. Remember when Michael Jordan had that unconscious game against Utah, despite the flu? That was Shawnta Rogers, a year or two later.
Actually, it wasn't Rogers's best game, but it was the most perfect finish one could imagine: He nailed a three at the buzzer to win the game! The noise was absolutely deafening, louder even than The UMass Game. The ESPN announcers (one of whom, Dave Simms, is a very good announcer, but infuriated me when he declared the '98 A-10 Final vs. Xavier "an X kind of day," whatever that meant) literally jumped out of their chairs. It was incredible, to say the least. The Hatchet runs a site that lists the top ten games and players in GW history, and that game propelled Shawnta Rogers into the top five---at least---on both lists.
GW would make the NCAA tournament; Xavier wouldn't. Heh.
We drove up to Philly the next week for the A-10 semifinals. To paraphrase Al Pacino's character in "City Hall," we expected a quick sojourn through Rhode Island and a longer engagement with Temple in the final. Well, we got a quick sojourn, alright. Lamar Odom and Co. broke it open six minutes in, if that. (Odom subsequently hit a miracle three against Temple to put Rhode Island back in the Big Dance; those guys, without Odom, I believe, had come oh-so-close against Stanford in the Elite Eight the previous season---just another near-miss in that round for the A-10 in the last generation, most involving Temple.)
Just a slight blip, right? Nope. The Colonials drew Indiana and just got gassed in the first round of the NCAA tournament, 108-88. Giving up 108 points to Indiana is like, I don't know, allowing the '04 Expos to hang a 15-spot on you. GW played like it had never seen a back-door cut before. It got so bad that a significant grassroots effort emerged to pop in "Dead Man on Campus", which my roommate rented for probably no reason other than "Saved by the Bell" nostalgia. The GW game carried the day (or night), but just barely.
I'd like to say I kept up as fervently after that, but I guessed I just moved on to a new phase in life; I think that, for a year, I wanted to believe I was still in college. Or maybe the Colonials weren't as easy on the eyes. Probably both.
The 1999-00 season brought this chuckster named SirValiant Brown to Foggy Bottom. He picked up some headlines because of his quirky name and a gaudy scoring average, but he was nothing more than a poor man's version of Allen Iverson's worst basketball qualities. Watching him go 9-for-27 in February of 2000 would have been like expecting George Michael synth-pop to come on MTV in 1995. No dice.
The team became a charicature of what we hoped for when he pined for an "up-tempo" team. Replace "up-tempo" with "sloppy," and you've got it. There was an A-10 tourney game, maybe in 2001, when post man Patrick Ngongba---dubbed "The Human Turnover" by us when he debuted in Jarvis's last season---post the team the game and the season by fouling a three-point shooter or something equally nonsensical at the end of the game.
I lost interest during the 1999-2002 years, or thereabouts; I couldn't even tell you if Val Brown stuck around for two or three years. I do know, and most everybody realized, that his contemporary, Chris Monroe (imagine Shawnta Rogers a foot taller and more of a swingman), was the only reason to watch the team.
Penders left after the 2001 season, replaced by former UConn assistant Karl Hobbs, who goes way back with Jarvis (who, by the way, is now an ESPN analyst---and a pretty good one). This was the first season after I moved back to Richmond, and I confess that I faced a conflict of interest: Richmond joined the A-10 for the '01-02 season, and they were good right off the bat. Richmond and GW, both situated in the West division, play home-and-home, twice a year.
Since exiting boyhood, I've lost much of my ability to root passionately and subjectively for a team; blame it on sabermetrics, I think. GW basketball is the exception, but some of that link---to be honest---was cut when I backed away from campus, and more of it was cut when I moved back to Richmond. I actually rediscovered some of that passion for GW this year, and I think I'm getting it back fully now for the Nats. (For instance, I entered Nats' fandom with the attitude that my interest in the Orioles---existing since childhood---could sustain itself. I am discovering that this is not the case. Expect a post on this soon.)
Well, I have two alma matters now: GW undergrad and Richmond law. During '01-04, I rooted selectively---basically, whichever team needed the game more, I rooted for that team. I know that sounds bad, but it's reasonable to an extent. Spiders basketball is big down here---it's a very proud program, especially in light of its national reputation in postseason play---and I grew up surrounded by it. If anything, GW is the interloper, at least from a certain point of view.
To be frank, Richmond was the better team during '01-04, and this not being the ACC or SEC or Big Ten or Big East, Richmond needed every win it could get---including against GW. And it paid off: Richmond made the '04 tournament as an at-large in 2004, something it hadn't done since 1986.
So, what was the '04-05 season? Was it a resurgence in my avidity to GW basketball? Or was it a response to a down year by Richmond? I suppose I shouldn't analyze the situation too much; after all, I learned to love a new generation of GW players, and that is enough.
And, so, there I was two Fridays ago---watching a game on television, but not the game being shown. Whereas the images of Old Dominion and Michigan St. were filling the screen, I was concentrating on the far top corner of the screen, little tiny type and a running clock of a game taking place not in Worchester but in Nashville. That is how I "watched" GW's first round game vs. Georgia Tech. That is how I remained hope as the Colonials stayed within two-to-five points of Tech most of the game; that is how I become despondent when, over the course of four minutes, the score progressed from 57-56, to
59-56, to
61-56, to
64-56, to
67-56, and finally to
69-56.
It was a hard way to take a defeat; then again, it was a fan's way to take a defeat.
A Jim Williams exclusive!!!
Hey, the TV deal is close! Really close! No, I mean it! It's close!
I guess one way you scoop your competition is to predict something will come to pass and then repeat it continually, faithfully, persistently, and doggedly until the damned thing actually comes to pass. Then you can truly say you were first with the news.
Has it always been this way? Was there some intrepid "journalist" like Jim Williams way back when, 150 million years ago, who said, "Guys, Laurasia is nice and all, but pretty soon this land mass will be three continents, and they'll call 'em Europe, North America, and Asia. . . . Well, no, it's not going to happen TOMORROW. No, not next week or next month or next year, either. But my sources are good. Just TRUST me." And sure enough, one fine morning . . .
Anyway, Williams adds another image to Bob DuPuy collection---which is quickly turning into a barrage of imagery unparalleled since Marty Blank characterized his previous decade as a cross between a Horatio Alger story and the Donner Party. Let's review:
---> Just over a week ago, Capitol Punishment Chris referred to DuPuy as "Grimace."
---> This past Friday, poster "Hondo9" from the Ballpark Guys forum turned the word "DuPuy" into a verb, meaning "to act more slowly than continental drift." Can he use it in a sentence? Sure: "Avoid 270 this morning. You'll find yourself hopelessly Dupuyed for hours!"
---> And today, Williams adds his two cents on DuPuy: "Dupuy, who has shown the patience of Job in this six-month long compensation soap opera, . . ."
A bloated, uh, Thing from fast-food commercials; a traffic jam; an Old Testament figure. Just about sums it up, eh?
By the by, Williams' sentence concludes thusly: " . . seems tired and ready to end it once and for all." This is appropriate, because:
a) lots of Nats' fans, myself included, are tired us this; and,
b) it had better end PDQ, both for the Nats' sake and for the sake of whatever credibility Williams still has.
---Yesterday was not a good day for the Nats. Let's run though the checklist:
Uninspired play? Check.
No. 2 starter hurt? Check.
Manager p.o.'ed? Check.
Clubhouse meeting? Check.
As for uninspired play, it doesn't get much more suspect than the effort of Endy Chavez, whose roster spot, mind you, is holding onto dear life just because Inning-Endy is speedy:
In the eighth, center fielder Endy Chavez hit a shot to center that looked like it might be a triple, but Chavez slowed down coming around first, settling for a double.
As for the No. 2 starter hurting, well, that's Tony Armas, of course. Don't worry, though; according to Armas, his yanking (so to speak) for a groin injury was just "precautionary."
But Robinson, who is typically cautious with injured players, said he wasn't
sure whether the right-hander will be able to make his next start, which is
scheduled for Friday and is supposed to be his final tuneup for the regular
season.
As for the p.o.'ed manager, what say you, Frank?
"This phase we're in right now," Robinson said, "is not a good phase." [. . .]
"It's the time of spring training where you're supposed to be doing the hings
to get ready for the season," Robinson said. "And it wasn't just this game.
We've been a little sloppy, a little lax, as a team the last four or five ballgames. I've been -- not ignoring it -- but holding back a little bit."
As for the closed-door team meeting, not much to say:
Sunday, he chose to talk to the team. Robinson said he didn't yell. "We just
talked," catcher Gary Bennett said. The players seemed to agree with Robinson's assessment.
Two things to note here:
1) If the injury to Armas is more than precautionary---and, not to be blithe, but this is Armas we're talking about here---then it might delay at least one tough choice concerning the composition of the pitching staff and, I'm guessing, give big Jon Rauch a ticket north for a spell. And there's no need to rush Armas; it's better to ensure that he's pain-free and, as a consequence, mechanically-sound.
2) For some reason, when I read the Post story this morning, I recalled Jim Bouton's early assessement of the Seattle Pilots in Ball Four. No, I'm not anticipating that this team will be doomed to Bud Selig's ownership (heck, that's already happened . . .), but if you've read Bouton's book---and I suspect many or most of us, as baseball fans, have---recall how positive his prospects for the Pilots were during the early spring. The Pilots were playing reasonably well, and Bouton noted something like, "Hey, with the way this team hits, if we can get at least decent pitching, we can make a race of it." (I'm not suggesting that the pitching is the problem, and the Nats' offense is a juggernaut, by the way.)
But, in pretty short order, reality set in with Bouton, and after awhile (a short while) he was pitching to get traded---anywhere: Detroit, Washington, even back to the Yankees. (He did eventually get dealt to Houston.) Reality will set in with this Nats team, too. Let's just hope everyone---I'm looking at you, Jose Guillen---takes it smoothly.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
No Easter spirit for Angelos
Well, that might be because it's not his---or my---Easter; nevertheless, he's still a jerk
If the issues are truly as this morning's Balto Sun article frames them, then I have a simple "negotiating strategy" for Bob DuPuy:
HEY PETE: IF YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING THE GEORGE BAILEY ROLE, THEN YOU SHOULD SEE US PLAY MR. POTTER. AND DON'T EXPECT CLARENCE THE ANGEL ON YOUR SIDE. OH, AND I'M SURE YOUR WIFE AIN'T NO DONNA REED, EITHER.
---The Post takes a long look at African-Americans and baseball today. I understand; some people care about this issue, and some don't. I'm not sure how much role-modeling really matters; do African-American kids shy away from baseball because Barry Bonds is universally recognized as a jerk, as the article suggests partially contributes to the state of affairs? Well, I'd doubt it. I'm not qualified at all to speak on the subject, but I'll add three thoughts:
1) It's probably helpful not to frame the issue in strict terms of black-and-white; instead, it's probably an issue of densely-populated-areas vs. sprawl areas (a matter of space in which to play) or disposable income vs. not much disposable income. At any rate, if you're a kid a) whose "play areas" are small and b) whose family could more easily afford a single basketball than a bat, a glove, some baseballs, then c) you're probably more inclined to play basketball;
2) Maybe this issue, like most things, is cyclical---and a decade or two from now there will be lots of African-American big league stars (not that there's an absolute dearth of them now)---and, if the role model theories hold water, then there will be a revival of big league proportions in "the African-American community" (I do wonder if that phrase is tremendously reductionistic, by the way---though I'll admit that in most places there is a distinct "Greek community," so I could be wrong); and, to my extraordinary relief,
3) At least the Post has the decency not to accuse---er, strongly imply---that the home-town team is run by racists. (Then again, no one would confuse Jim Bowden's "baseball ideology" with J.P. Ricciardi's, for better or worse.)
---There was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air.
So, I was stuck in the check-out line at the grocery yesterday. And I do mean stuck. The woman in front of me had a full cart of groceries, but I figured, "Hey, it's crowded; there's just this one woman in front of me; why chance it by going to a different line."
Boy, did I bet on the wrong horse. The problem wasn't so much that it took forever to scan and bag all of her items; that only took quite a long time. What took forever were the coupons. Lots of coupons. A Red Sea full of coupons---or at least a dozen Redwoods worth of 'em. You get the picture.
The lady started off at $242.68. I know the exact figure, because I was watching; I was just curious as to what her little endeavor here was going to end up saving her. Fifty cents off of peas and a buck off of toilet paper---buy one Honey Bunches 'o Oats and get one free.
Having lots (and lots and lots) of coupons is one thing; advocating fervently for the inclusion of each and every one of them is another. Man, did the lady fight. She picked up the 16 oz. bottle of so-and-so, and the cashier said, "Actually, that's for the 12 oz."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am. Says so right here."
"Okay. . . . Can you get a bagger to exchange mine for the right one?"
"Um . . . sure."
After awhile, I became convinced that her goal was to reduce the cost all the way down to zero---all the way. I'm sure one of the laws of thermodynamics foreclosed the possibility, but she was as intent as seeing it through as John Kerry was on election night. That's what it felt like, by the way: it's two in the morning, and there's just not enough votes in Cuyahoga County. Are you going to call it a night, John? Oh no. To quote Ralph Wiggum, when faced with the call to surrender:
I became disinterested and engaged in the kind of scan of the grocery store that would, uh, make Dayn Perry kinda proud. That didn't go too well, either.
So I went back to the Coupon Lady's quest. Until . . .
. . . until . . .
I saw the sweatshirt. It was a Nats sweatshirt. Washington Nationals.
A kid, maybe thirteen or so, was wearing it.
I said to myself, "Hmmmnn," and returned to the coupon drama. Then I looked in the other direction, and I saw----that's right: another kid, maybe twelve, wearing a different Nats sweatshirt. And the blue road cap.
This is Atlanta Braves' territory for now---Braves caps win the "hat test" by a clear plurarity, at least. But I stress "for now."
The revolution has begun. Down here in Richmond, we'll be swayin' with our brothers and sisters in the District before long.
If the issues are truly as this morning's Balto Sun article frames them, then I have a simple "negotiating strategy" for Bob DuPuy:
HEY PETE: IF YOU THINK YOU'RE PLAYING THE GEORGE BAILEY ROLE, THEN YOU SHOULD SEE US PLAY MR. POTTER. AND DON'T EXPECT CLARENCE THE ANGEL ON YOUR SIDE. OH, AND I'M SURE YOUR WIFE AIN'T NO DONNA REED, EITHER.
---The Post takes a long look at African-Americans and baseball today. I understand; some people care about this issue, and some don't. I'm not sure how much role-modeling really matters; do African-American kids shy away from baseball because Barry Bonds is universally recognized as a jerk, as the article suggests partially contributes to the state of affairs? Well, I'd doubt it. I'm not qualified at all to speak on the subject, but I'll add three thoughts:
1) It's probably helpful not to frame the issue in strict terms of black-and-white; instead, it's probably an issue of densely-populated-areas vs. sprawl areas (a matter of space in which to play) or disposable income vs. not much disposable income. At any rate, if you're a kid a) whose "play areas" are small and b) whose family could more easily afford a single basketball than a bat, a glove, some baseballs, then c) you're probably more inclined to play basketball;
2) Maybe this issue, like most things, is cyclical---and a decade or two from now there will be lots of African-American big league stars (not that there's an absolute dearth of them now)---and, if the role model theories hold water, then there will be a revival of big league proportions in "the African-American community" (I do wonder if that phrase is tremendously reductionistic, by the way---though I'll admit that in most places there is a distinct "Greek community," so I could be wrong); and, to my extraordinary relief,
3) At least the Post has the decency not to accuse---er, strongly imply---that the home-town team is run by racists. (Then again, no one would confuse Jim Bowden's "baseball ideology" with J.P. Ricciardi's, for better or worse.)
---There was music in the cafes at night and revolution in the air.
So, I was stuck in the check-out line at the grocery yesterday. And I do mean stuck. The woman in front of me had a full cart of groceries, but I figured, "Hey, it's crowded; there's just this one woman in front of me; why chance it by going to a different line."
Boy, did I bet on the wrong horse. The problem wasn't so much that it took forever to scan and bag all of her items; that only took quite a long time. What took forever were the coupons. Lots of coupons. A Red Sea full of coupons---or at least a dozen Redwoods worth of 'em. You get the picture.
The lady started off at $242.68. I know the exact figure, because I was watching; I was just curious as to what her little endeavor here was going to end up saving her. Fifty cents off of peas and a buck off of toilet paper---buy one Honey Bunches 'o Oats and get one free.
Having lots (and lots and lots) of coupons is one thing; advocating fervently for the inclusion of each and every one of them is another. Man, did the lady fight. She picked up the 16 oz. bottle of so-and-so, and the cashier said, "Actually, that's for the 12 oz."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am. Says so right here."
"Okay. . . . Can you get a bagger to exchange mine for the right one?"
"Um . . . sure."
After awhile, I became convinced that her goal was to reduce the cost all the way down to zero---all the way. I'm sure one of the laws of thermodynamics foreclosed the possibility, but she was as intent as seeing it through as John Kerry was on election night. That's what it felt like, by the way: it's two in the morning, and there's just not enough votes in Cuyahoga County. Are you going to call it a night, John? Oh no. To quote Ralph Wiggum, when faced with the call to surrender:
NEVER!!!
I became disinterested and engaged in the kind of scan of the grocery store that would, uh, make Dayn Perry kinda proud. That didn't go too well, either.
So I went back to the Coupon Lady's quest. Until . . .
. . . until . . .
I saw the sweatshirt. It was a Nats sweatshirt. Washington Nationals.
A kid, maybe thirteen or so, was wearing it.
I said to myself, "Hmmmnn," and returned to the coupon drama. Then I looked in the other direction, and I saw----that's right: another kid, maybe twelve, wearing a different Nats sweatshirt. And the blue road cap.
This is Atlanta Braves' territory for now---Braves caps win the "hat test" by a clear plurarity, at least. But I stress "for now."
The revolution has begun. Down here in Richmond, we'll be swayin' with our brothers and sisters in the District before long.
Friday, March 25, 2005
Positivity
Only edifying thoughts for this lovely Friday; why, it's raining, and I forgot my lunch today, and I had to go outside to the ATM and get a crummy sandwich---but that's okay
I hadn't realized it, but upon reflection, I've been a fount of pent-up rage here recently. Maybe that's the modus operandi for our, uh, literary genre, but it ain't really me. Why, I even told Pittsburgh's beat writer to go to hell the other day. (Not that he'd ever know, but that's besides the point.) Okay, so I told him to do so "kindly"; nevertheless, though, it's not something I'd want to admit to my Sunday School students.
(Pause. Yes, I actually do teach Sunday School; well, I don't know if I actually teach the 11th and 12th graders here anything, but sometimes I try. Why, I bet I'm the only guy ever to frame the Great Schism in terms of an East Coast-West Coast rap rivalry. Anyway . . .)
Well, being a caustic jerk isn't my style. If I'm going to tell you that you're an idiot, I'll do so far more subtly, probably a) because I'm not an incediary guy, b) so that I don't look like a jerk, and c) to retain plausible deniability of a sort when you come back and say, "Are you calling me an idiot?"
So, I'm reserving one day a week to wipe the slate clean. Consequently, welcome to the first-ever "Happy Thoughts Friday" here at Nationals Inquirer. I intend to stick to it without reservation. Let's try the concept out:
a) It's Friday, March 25, and there's still no television deal? Why, that's okay; after all, let's put the thing in context---there are starving children in China.
b) Thinking prospectively about this, it's the last Friday in April, and Endy Chavez is hitting .258/.293/.332, and he's the primary lead-off guy. The pitching is generally strong, but the offense just can't get in sync. Barry Svrluga asks Frank Robinson what he's going to do to shuffle the lineup around, get things going. (Hint: Endy.) Robinson says something like, "Endy's waiting for good pitches to hit, he's making good contact, just a bit unlikely right now, and besides his speed can really disrupt a defense." Hey, that's super! It's Friday!
c) It's the late Friday in July, and Esteban Loiaza is 11-7 with a 4.68 ERA. Some teams have expressed interest in Loiaza's services; they've offered some B-grade prospects. But Bowden is resolute. "Esteban is a rotation anchor," Bowden tells the Washington Times. "I intend fully to sign him to a multi-year deal. He's proven this year that he's earned the commitment to our first-class organization." Awesome! I'm going to the beach anyway!
And so forth. I can do this.
I'll leave this entry with a motivational ending. Jeffrey Hammonds' bat has looked uglier than a Rancor without braces, and he's got a date with Cafe Du Monde. But, by golly, he's gonna make it back to the big leagues. He just knows it.
And I fully support Jeffrey's quest. In fact, I'm rooting for him to tear it up in New Orleans and earn a regular spot in the majors again, maybe as the lefty-mashing half of a left field platoon.
Yeah, that sounds good.
So let's give Jeffrey our best thoughts. If he works really hard, he can end up back in the majors---back here, maybe.
I hadn't realized it, but upon reflection, I've been a fount of pent-up rage here recently. Maybe that's the modus operandi for our, uh, literary genre, but it ain't really me. Why, I even told Pittsburgh's beat writer to go to hell the other day. (Not that he'd ever know, but that's besides the point.) Okay, so I told him to do so "kindly"; nevertheless, though, it's not something I'd want to admit to my Sunday School students.
(Pause. Yes, I actually do teach Sunday School; well, I don't know if I actually teach the 11th and 12th graders here anything, but sometimes I try. Why, I bet I'm the only guy ever to frame the Great Schism in terms of an East Coast-West Coast rap rivalry. Anyway . . .)
Well, being a caustic jerk isn't my style. If I'm going to tell you that you're an idiot, I'll do so far more subtly, probably a) because I'm not an incediary guy, b) so that I don't look like a jerk, and c) to retain plausible deniability of a sort when you come back and say, "Are you calling me an idiot?"
So, I'm reserving one day a week to wipe the slate clean. Consequently, welcome to the first-ever "Happy Thoughts Friday" here at Nationals Inquirer. I intend to stick to it without reservation. Let's try the concept out:
a) It's Friday, March 25, and there's still no television deal? Why, that's okay; after all, let's put the thing in context---there are starving children in China.
b) Thinking prospectively about this, it's the last Friday in April, and Endy Chavez is hitting .258/.293/.332, and he's the primary lead-off guy. The pitching is generally strong, but the offense just can't get in sync. Barry Svrluga asks Frank Robinson what he's going to do to shuffle the lineup around, get things going. (Hint: Endy.) Robinson says something like, "Endy's waiting for good pitches to hit, he's making good contact, just a bit unlikely right now, and besides his speed can really disrupt a defense." Hey, that's super! It's Friday!
c) It's the late Friday in July, and Esteban Loiaza is 11-7 with a 4.68 ERA. Some teams have expressed interest in Loiaza's services; they've offered some B-grade prospects. But Bowden is resolute. "Esteban is a rotation anchor," Bowden tells the Washington Times. "I intend fully to sign him to a multi-year deal. He's proven this year that he's earned the commitment to our first-class organization." Awesome! I'm going to the beach anyway!
And so forth. I can do this.
I'll leave this entry with a motivational ending. Jeffrey Hammonds' bat has looked uglier than a Rancor without braces, and he's got a date with Cafe Du Monde. But, by golly, he's gonna make it back to the big leagues. He just knows it.
And I fully support Jeffrey's quest. In fact, I'm rooting for him to tear it up in New Orleans and earn a regular spot in the majors again, maybe as the lefty-mashing half of a left field platoon.
Yeah, that sounds good.
So let's give Jeffrey our best thoughts. If he works really hard, he can end up back in the majors---back here, maybe.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Stand up for old-fashioned values
Like---oh, I don't know---honesty and responsible reporting
Okay, right; I don't know how much of an American value responsible reporting is. Good point.
Nevertheless, as noted by fellow bloggers, this situation just stinks like an oil refinery town, and the Guardians of the Press Pass aren't doing much to illuminate things. For instance:
Well, today, I'll note that Ed Waldman gets his opportunity to play "Baghdad Bob" in the Baltimore Sun.
No, let me amend that: Baghad Bob's demeanor---impervious over-optimism in a face of defeat as ugly as Helen Thomas' mug---would have been preferable to the enourmous pity party Waldman's story heaps upon his poor readers:
Waaah!
Mommy!
I've gotta poop REAL bad!
That's MY blankie!
Bowtie Man keeps making faces at me!
Hell, the article isn't even internally consistent. The unending, dirging, tiresome theme of the article is that the Nats are siphoning off ticket sales from the O's, but it:
1) notes that the Nationals haven't even done ticket give-aways or promotions yet and just started putting single-game tickets on sale less than two weeks ago;
2) quotes a PR hack as claiming that there's just this palpable buzz about the O's now; and,
3) significantly, and as pointed out by every DC blogger or other sentient this side of Sri Lanka who cares, and as reinforced by a neat little chart AT THE END OF THE ARTICLE, Waldman's story mentions that O's attendance declined every year for over half-a-decade before last season---which is strange, considering the attendance went UP during the season when the rumors and subsequent reality of a DC baseball team took shape.
All of our heads are ready to explode, I know, but I thought I'd point out one last Ebola-infested line from the Waldman article:
Angelos is truly a magnanimous guy, eh? Of course not. As long-time rec.sport.baseball poster David Grabiner once put it:
Angelos isn't looking out for the great fans of Baltimore (and I really do think that they're great; no sarcasm), as you imply, Waldman. Rather, he just lets his consultants set the ticket prices to maximize revenue in the best manner. And don't try to bootstrap the so-called "Nats' effect" into this conversation, either; ticket prices are set based on last year's numbers, obviously---and, last season, attendance went UP.
* Sounds an awful lot like Clinton's "that woman" quotation, no?
---Bravo to Capitol Punishment Chris, who was interviewed for Fantasy Info Central's Nats preview. Chris tells me that the interview was conducted awhile back, but his response have aged pretty well still. They seem intentionally fantasy-geared (for instance, he projects Jose Guillen's numbers by AVG/HR/RBI, something, knowing him, he wouldn't normally do), but there were quite a few interesting ones. I'll select one; okay, let's try Terrmel Sledge (of whom the writer mysteriously labeled "a bust"---something Bowden and definitely Robinson would ever dream of saying). Here's Chris:
Sledge does strike me as one of those "so underrated that he's overrated" guys as well.
Look, I know some people criticize bloggers for referencing the work of other bloggers; I guess the inference is that bloggers intentionally try to pack together and create legitimacy through volume. Heck, some bloggers probably have the same criticism about their peers. But you know what? First, I am a complete outsider to blogging politics; I just do this 'cause it's fun. Second, I work fairly hard on my blog in my spare time, and I know there are other guys who work as hard and even much harder on theirs. And they do good work. So their good work deserves to be commended, I say. Chris represented the Nats' blogging community well, I think.
Okay, right; I don't know how much of an American value responsible reporting is. Good point.
Nevertheless, as noted by fellow bloggers, this situation just stinks like an oil refinery town, and the Guardians of the Press Pass aren't doing much to illuminate things. For instance:
- Last night, Ryan of Distinguished Senators laid the ol' steel-toed boot to Eric "Scoop" Fisher of the Washington Times for giving the Angelosians the opportunity to spew all over his paper's front page without so much as wiping up a tiny drop of their bile with anything resembling a fact. It's actually something of a tragic read for a bit, as Ryan sadly recalls the days when Fisher practiced actual journalism. Then, with a couple of blogging wingmen, Ryan does Fisher's work for him.
- This morning, District of Baseball's resident early-riser, Jeff, conducts a short but brutal pink-belly session on The DC Examiner's media insider, Jim Williams, a champion of the Ballpark Guys board. Even keeping in mind that any "negotation" between Bud Selig and Peter Angelos by nature will be a comedy of errors, body stench, and spasmic stuttering, Jeff does raise the undeniable point that Williams seems to be wrong a lot.
Well, today, I'll note that Ed Waldman gets his opportunity to play "Baghdad Bob" in the Baltimore Sun.
No, let me amend that: Baghad Bob's demeanor---impervious over-optimism in a face of defeat as ugly as Helen Thomas' mug---would have been preferable to the enourmous pity party Waldman's story heaps upon his poor readers:
The Orioles have done much to counter the competition from the Nationals, who in September were relocated to the nation's capital by Major League Baseball over the bitter objections of owner Peter Angelos.
Waaah!
The drop in Orioles ticket sales would seem to back up Angelos' claim that the presence of a team in Washington would hurt his franchise.
Mommy!
This team is so improved, and with the addition of Sosa, the [ticket] deficiency is far greater," the owner said yesterday. "I would expect
that right now we would have been 15 or 20 percent ahead of last year."
I've gotta poop REAL bad!
"We should be around 3 million," Angelos said. "That's where I think we were headed until they put that team* there."
That's MY blankie!
Dryer said he couldn't predict how many tickets the Orioles would have sold if they had signed Sosa but didn't face competition from the ationals."Wow. That's a tough question," he said. "We'd definitely be ahead of last year. How much more it's tough to gauge. It's very hard to measure how much
it has hurt us."
Bowtie Man keeps making faces at me!
Hell, the article isn't even internally consistent. The unending, dirging, tiresome theme of the article is that the Nats are siphoning off ticket sales from the O's, but it:
1) notes that the Nationals haven't even done ticket give-aways or promotions yet and just started putting single-game tickets on sale less than two weeks ago;
2) quotes a PR hack as claiming that there's just this palpable buzz about the O's now; and,
3) significantly, and as pointed out by every DC blogger or other sentient this side of Sri Lanka who cares, and as reinforced by a neat little chart AT THE END OF THE ARTICLE, Waldman's story mentions that O's attendance declined every year for over half-a-decade before last season---which is strange, considering the attendance went UP during the season when the rumors and subsequent reality of a DC baseball team took shape.
All of our heads are ready to explode, I know, but I thought I'd point out one last Ebola-infested line from the Waldman article:
The Orioles didn't raise ticket prices.
Angelos is truly a magnanimous guy, eh? Of course not. As long-time rec.sport.baseball poster David Grabiner once put it:
The answer to this question is usually "none", regardless of X. Most commonly, X is something like "higher salaries" or "a smaller TV contract"; in these cases, "none" is correct. Baseball owners, like most business owners, are interested in maximizing profits or minimizing losses. Thus they set ticket prices with that goal in mind. Since having an additional fan attend the game does not have much effect on the cost of holding a game, this
means that prices are set to maximize revenues.
Angelos isn't looking out for the great fans of Baltimore (and I really do think that they're great; no sarcasm), as you imply, Waldman. Rather, he just lets his consultants set the ticket prices to maximize revenue in the best manner. And don't try to bootstrap the so-called "Nats' effect" into this conversation, either; ticket prices are set based on last year's numbers, obviously---and, last season, attendance went UP.
* Sounds an awful lot like Clinton's "that woman" quotation, no?
---Bravo to Capitol Punishment Chris, who was interviewed for Fantasy Info Central's Nats preview. Chris tells me that the interview was conducted awhile back, but his response have aged pretty well still. They seem intentionally fantasy-geared (for instance, he projects Jose Guillen's numbers by AVG/HR/RBI, something, knowing him, he wouldn't normally do), but there were quite a few interesting ones. I'll select one; okay, let's try Terrmel Sledge (of whom the writer mysteriously labeled "a bust"---something Bowden and definitely Robinson would ever dream of saying). Here's Chris:
CN: Sledge is getting to the point where he's getting overrated because he's underrated. If he played full time, he'd definitely put up some solid numbers. But, just because he doesn't have Major League experience, it doesn't mean he's young. This will be his age-28 season, so he's probably about as good as he's going to get.The other problem he's going to run into is that he's competing for playing time with several other players. Nick Johnson, Endy Chavez, Brad Wilkerson and Terrmel are all fighting for three slots in the lineup. No one's quite sure how that's going to play out. If I had to guess, I think that Terrmel would get a similar number of At Bats as last year, in some sort of rotation.While, as far as I know, he's not openly on
the trading block, Bowden seems willing to shop Sledge.
Sledge does strike me as one of those "so underrated that he's overrated" guys as well.
Look, I know some people criticize bloggers for referencing the work of other bloggers; I guess the inference is that bloggers intentionally try to pack together and create legitimacy through volume. Heck, some bloggers probably have the same criticism about their peers. But you know what? First, I am a complete outsider to blogging politics; I just do this 'cause it's fun. Second, I work fairly hard on my blog in my spare time, and I know there are other guys who work as hard and even much harder on theirs. And they do good work. So their good work deserves to be commended, I say. Chris represented the Nats' blogging community well, I think.
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Wilson? Wilson!
Wilson Betemit? Just save the money and buy the volleyball, guys
It was reported over the weekend that, in the interest of bolstering shortstop depth, a couple of Jim Bowden's old pals snuck into Braves' camp in order to scout Betemit, a perennial prospect who knows Richmond's dirt more intimately than even a couple of ex-presidents. And they observed him jack two homers off of Tom Glavine, apparently. (The Nats reps, I mean---not Messrs. Monroe and Tyler.)
A two-homer game would probably make an impression on most people, but Barry Svrluga is apparently not like most people:
(emphasis added)
Well, as Francis William Abagnale, Jr. might say, "I concur." Just check out his career record. The guy's a serious Triple-A repeat offender. In his third shot at Triple-A, he boosted his OBP beyond Chavezian levels. Yeah!
Moreover, I get in the stands and watch baseball games, and that means I've seen a good deal of Betemit up close and personal. Hoo boy, let me tell you this: Betemit's "baseball IQ" is pretty much Cust-ian. Plus, purportedly Betemit would be acquired as insurance in case Cristian Guzman goes down. That's nice---except that shortstop hasn't been Betemit's primary position in Richmond since he was a 21/22 year-old in 2002. Furthermore, Betemit, a pretty tall guy for a shortstop at 6-foot-3 (though that's the trend nowadays, of course), exhibited a little bit of a power spike last season at age 23/24---which coincided with him appearing a bit bigger last season. I think he'll continue to add some weight/muscle/'roids, and as such I would imagine his future is exclusively at third. He might serve as a passable starter there in a good year someday, I'd imagine.
That's my take, at least.
---Last summer, it was reported by various sources that former big leaguer Chris Brown, an all-star back in the 1980s, is now working on eighteen-wheelers for Haliburton in Iraq. Taking nothing away from the work Brown is doing, that's a rather unexpected career path. Speaking of unexpected career paths, would you have guessed even last year that Nick Johnson would be mentioned in the same breath as these guys?
Well, at least Johnson has enough clout to able to induce the Rays, perhaps, to be persuaded to part with a 32 year-old LOOGY. I do wonder if Johnson is that fabled "right player" to come along.
Memo to Jim Bowden: If Nick Johnson's trade value is really as low as this article states, and if you trade him away anyway, then I'd be forced to remove the presumption: you, sir, would be an idiot.
* Of course, being mentioned in the same sentence as Pokey Reese, at least as far as Bowden would be concerned, might not be an insult to Johnson; after all, Reese was one of those rare "untouchable" players way back when.
It was reported over the weekend that, in the interest of bolstering shortstop depth, a couple of Jim Bowden's old pals snuck into Braves' camp in order to scout Betemit, a perennial prospect who knows Richmond's dirt more intimately than even a couple of ex-presidents. And they observed him jack two homers off of Tom Glavine, apparently. (The Nats reps, I mean---not Messrs. Monroe and Tyler.)
A two-homer game would probably make an impression on most people, but Barry Svrluga is apparently not like most people:
But don't get too excited. One, the guy's not that good. And two, the Nationals aren't going to trade for him unless they can get him for next to nothing. The Braves need a great bullpen arm. Yes, at first glance, the Nationals seem to be overloaded in the pen (see today's Post), but GM Jim Bowden
understands injuries will come, and he'll probably need those arms. My guess: This won't happen. But we'll see.
(emphasis added)
Well, as Francis William Abagnale, Jr. might say, "I concur." Just check out his career record. The guy's a serious Triple-A repeat offender. In his third shot at Triple-A, he boosted his OBP beyond Chavezian levels. Yeah!
Moreover, I get in the stands and watch baseball games, and that means I've seen a good deal of Betemit up close and personal. Hoo boy, let me tell you this: Betemit's "baseball IQ" is pretty much Cust-ian. Plus, purportedly Betemit would be acquired as insurance in case Cristian Guzman goes down. That's nice---except that shortstop hasn't been Betemit's primary position in Richmond since he was a 21/22 year-old in 2002. Furthermore, Betemit, a pretty tall guy for a shortstop at 6-foot-3 (though that's the trend nowadays, of course), exhibited a little bit of a power spike last season at age 23/24---which coincided with him appearing a bit bigger last season. I think he'll continue to add some weight/muscle/'roids, and as such I would imagine his future is exclusively at third. He might serve as a passable starter there in a good year someday, I'd imagine.
That's my take, at least.
---Last summer, it was reported by various sources that former big leaguer Chris Brown, an all-star back in the 1980s, is now working on eighteen-wheelers for Haliburton in Iraq. Taking nothing away from the work Brown is doing, that's a rather unexpected career path. Speaking of unexpected career paths, would you have guessed even last year that Nick Johnson would be mentioned in the same breath as these guys?
Among the infielders on [Tampa's] radar are Damian Jackson, in camp with the Padres as a nonroster invitee; shortstop Pokey Reese* of Seattle; infielder Chris Woodward of the Mets; and first baseman Nick Johnson of the Nationals. The Rays have relief pitching to spare, and could be persuaded to part with left- hander Trever Miller or right- handers Travis Harper, Lance Carter or Jorge Sosa for the right player.
Well, at least Johnson has enough clout to able to induce the Rays, perhaps, to be persuaded to part with a 32 year-old LOOGY. I do wonder if Johnson is that fabled "right player" to come along.
Memo to Jim Bowden: If Nick Johnson's trade value is really as low as this article states, and if you trade him away anyway, then I'd be forced to remove the presumption: you, sir, would be an idiot.
* Of course, being mentioned in the same sentence as Pokey Reese, at least as far as Bowden would be concerned, might not be an insult to Johnson; after all, Reese was one of those rare "untouchable" players way back when.
Strawman! Get yer strawman!
Alternate sophomoric title: Poopy Dejan
I realize that this isn't within our bailiwick at Nats bloggers, but I'm going to invoke a little long-arm jurisdiction, so to speak, and link to a chat Pirates' beat writer Dejan Kovacevic conducted today at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette website. (Full disclosure: If found it via Baseball Primer.)
Now, Dejan probably doesn't stop by Nationals Inquirer on a regular basis, but if he does . . . Hey, Dejan! Special delivery! You can kindly go to hell!
In a strangely ironic set-up, Kovacevic was just finishing with a wiping away of a previously-held erroneous belief that females don't read his "Q&A" sessions when he returned to a carry-over topic on which he requested some audience participation: namely, why on earth are many Pirates so enamored of Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane? In reply to one poster, Kovacevic reported his findings:
Of course, Kovacevic wasn't speaking to Nats' fans; 'course, let's be completely honest---he wasn't limiting his purported observations to the behavior of Pirates' fans, either. As one Primer poster commented, Kovacevic's remarks could just as easily been the product of Richard Griffin in Toronto; I'll add Bill Conlin in Philly or, well, name any of other scores of baseball writers and columnists who could and do say basically the same thing.
Just for fun, let's deconstruct the statement:
1) I am increasingly convinced that the Beane love affair
Hey, let's call a pig a pig, okay? He's talking about "Moneyball," which is now euphemism for "stathead," which is a synonym (not just a kinder version of) for "stat dork."
2) is more about numbers than anything else.
What in the evaluation of baseball isn't about numbers? Everything in the game is recorded---including, you know, wins and losses.
And what is this about "than anything else"? How about a little nuance, a little subtletly, a little honesty?
People, including---I dare say---statheads, appreciate baseball for the evocative moments the sport credits to our very souls: visually, the sight of a perfectly-timed 6-4-3 double-play, with the second baseman leaping over a charging, sliding runner at the very last second; audibly, the ineffable crack of the bat or merely the constant hum and murmur of ten thousand conversations taking place simultaneously; emotionally, the jolt a pitched ball into the catcher's mitt provides, launching us back into the hyper-competitive environment of fourth grade recess, when a given day's victor was a star.
Of course, people also evaluate the effectiveness of players and teams based on stats. And when I say "people," I mean "everyone." We just choose different stats, differently measures. I say mine are better than yours, Dejan, whatever they are. Live with it. Disagree. Who cares?
3) As I wrote above in the Q&A, I am not big on emphasizing statistics above all else.
Sure you are, you tool. You just like different stats and different measures. Be honest.
4) Seems to me there is an entire segment of the baseball-loving community that feels completely comfortable analyzing the game from a cubicle
Veiled "computer geek" reference. What's next? "Dungeons & Dragons"?
5) rather than getting out to the stands and watching it.
Now, this one is funny. I know Kovacevic isn't at all contemplating Nats' fans in this chat (obviously), but he's going beyond Pirates' fans; he's talking about so-called "Moneyball" groupies, of which every team is bound to have a handful or two. Nats' fans are included in that list, so let me offer an observation: There are, what, at least a dozen Nats' blogs that are reside in cyberspace? (There are bound to be more than I have listed on the side; in fact, I know there are, but I'm lazy sometimes.) How many of them express a bent toward statistical analysis/analytical performance evaluation? One-half? At least. Two-thirds, three-quarters? Maybe so. Okay, watch this: These guys all begged, pleaded, pined, lusted for a team in DC. Why?
SO THEY COULD GET IN THE STANDS AND WATCH BASEBALL.
6) I find such practice to be preposterous.
More preposterous than erecting neat little strawmen?
7) The game is played by humans, not by matrix dots on your PS2 screen.
Very true, Dejan, very true. For instance, on my PS2 screen, Cristian Guzman is hitting about .300/.410/.490, whereas Brad Wilkerson is hitting about .180/.230/.300. I think we know which one is real.
Anyway, I've probably completely ripped poor Dejan's chat quote out of its context, and beyond that, it's more than a little odd for me to take a sensitive posture after last night's post, I suppose. Nevertheless, I cannot express the annoyance that fills my defiled, Texas Instruments-laden soul when I hear someone "important" imply or outright state, by implication of course, that I do not appreciate the game of baseball properly because I know what "VORP" stands for.
Is it so hard to realize that we all appreciate The Grand Game, but we may evaluate it differently?
Before you jump in, let me clarify: Sure, I know that Kovacevic didn't actually bring up the word "appreciate," but let's cut to the chase---he's stating that there's a whole legion of guys masquerading as baseball fans who get off on their need to calculate things by picking apart box scores on the 'net. He's being an elitist, misrepresenting buffoon; he's just doing it sort of nicely. Well, that or he's really carrying the whole "Hey, Billy Beane drafted some guy sight-unseen" pretty darned far. In that sense, he's also acting like a buffoon. Maybe Dejan's a versatile buffoon.
Anyway, as to his substantive point, I'd say Pirates' fans have a "love affair" with Beane because Beane's teams have been quite successful for awhile---remarkably so, given their Pirates-like payrolls. So Dejan prefers the Marlins. Super. Sure beats whatever the P-men are doing right now.
Now stuff it, you smarmy little Thought Cop.
I realize that this isn't within our bailiwick at Nats bloggers, but I'm going to invoke a little long-arm jurisdiction, so to speak, and link to a chat Pirates' beat writer Dejan Kovacevic conducted today at the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette website. (Full disclosure: If found it via Baseball Primer.)
Now, Dejan probably doesn't stop by Nationals Inquirer on a regular basis, but if he does . . . Hey, Dejan! Special delivery! You can kindly go to hell!
In a strangely ironic set-up, Kovacevic was just finishing with a wiping away of a previously-held erroneous belief that females don't read his "Q&A" sessions when he returned to a carry-over topic on which he requested some audience participation: namely, why on earth are many Pirates so enamored of Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane? In reply to one poster, Kovacevic reported his findings:
I am increasingly convinced that the Beane love affair is more about numbers than anything else. As I wrote above in the Q&A, I am not big
on emphasizing statistics above all else. Seems to me there is an entire segment of the baseball-loving community that feels completely comfortable analyzing the game from a cubicle rather than getting out to the stands and watching it. I find such practice to be preposterous. The game is played by humans, not by matrix dots on your PS2 screen.
Of course, Kovacevic wasn't speaking to Nats' fans; 'course, let's be completely honest---he wasn't limiting his purported observations to the behavior of Pirates' fans, either. As one Primer poster commented, Kovacevic's remarks could just as easily been the product of Richard Griffin in Toronto; I'll add Bill Conlin in Philly or, well, name any of other scores of baseball writers and columnists who could and do say basically the same thing.
Just for fun, let's deconstruct the statement:
1) I am increasingly convinced that the Beane love affair
Hey, let's call a pig a pig, okay? He's talking about "Moneyball," which is now euphemism for "stathead," which is a synonym (not just a kinder version of) for "stat dork."
2) is more about numbers than anything else.
What in the evaluation of baseball isn't about numbers? Everything in the game is recorded---including, you know, wins and losses.
And what is this about "than anything else"? How about a little nuance, a little subtletly, a little honesty?
People, including---I dare say---statheads, appreciate baseball for the evocative moments the sport credits to our very souls: visually, the sight of a perfectly-timed 6-4-3 double-play, with the second baseman leaping over a charging, sliding runner at the very last second; audibly, the ineffable crack of the bat or merely the constant hum and murmur of ten thousand conversations taking place simultaneously; emotionally, the jolt a pitched ball into the catcher's mitt provides, launching us back into the hyper-competitive environment of fourth grade recess, when a given day's victor was a star.
Of course, people also evaluate the effectiveness of players and teams based on stats. And when I say "people," I mean "everyone." We just choose different stats, differently measures. I say mine are better than yours, Dejan, whatever they are. Live with it. Disagree. Who cares?
3) As I wrote above in the Q&A, I am not big on emphasizing statistics above all else.
Sure you are, you tool. You just like different stats and different measures. Be honest.
4) Seems to me there is an entire segment of the baseball-loving community that feels completely comfortable analyzing the game from a cubicle
Veiled "computer geek" reference. What's next? "Dungeons & Dragons"?
5) rather than getting out to the stands and watching it.
Now, this one is funny. I know Kovacevic isn't at all contemplating Nats' fans in this chat (obviously), but he's going beyond Pirates' fans; he's talking about so-called "Moneyball" groupies, of which every team is bound to have a handful or two. Nats' fans are included in that list, so let me offer an observation: There are, what, at least a dozen Nats' blogs that are reside in cyberspace? (There are bound to be more than I have listed on the side; in fact, I know there are, but I'm lazy sometimes.) How many of them express a bent toward statistical analysis/analytical performance evaluation? One-half? At least. Two-thirds, three-quarters? Maybe so. Okay, watch this: These guys all begged, pleaded, pined, lusted for a team in DC. Why?
SO THEY COULD GET IN THE STANDS AND WATCH BASEBALL.
6) I find such practice to be preposterous.
More preposterous than erecting neat little strawmen?
7) The game is played by humans, not by matrix dots on your PS2 screen.
Very true, Dejan, very true. For instance, on my PS2 screen, Cristian Guzman is hitting about .300/.410/.490, whereas Brad Wilkerson is hitting about .180/.230/.300. I think we know which one is real.
Anyway, I've probably completely ripped poor Dejan's chat quote out of its context, and beyond that, it's more than a little odd for me to take a sensitive posture after last night's post, I suppose. Nevertheless, I cannot express the annoyance that fills my defiled, Texas Instruments-laden soul when I hear someone "important" imply or outright state, by implication of course, that I do not appreciate the game of baseball properly because I know what "VORP" stands for.
Is it so hard to realize that we all appreciate The Grand Game, but we may evaluate it differently?
Before you jump in, let me clarify: Sure, I know that Kovacevic didn't actually bring up the word "appreciate," but let's cut to the chase---he's stating that there's a whole legion of guys masquerading as baseball fans who get off on their need to calculate things by picking apart box scores on the 'net. He's being an elitist, misrepresenting buffoon; he's just doing it sort of nicely. Well, that or he's really carrying the whole "Hey, Billy Beane drafted some guy sight-unseen" pretty darned far. In that sense, he's also acting like a buffoon. Maybe Dejan's a versatile buffoon.
Anyway, as to his substantive point, I'd say Pirates' fans have a "love affair" with Beane because Beane's teams have been quite successful for awhile---remarkably so, given their Pirates-like payrolls. So Dejan prefers the Marlins. Super. Sure beats whatever the P-men are doing right now.
Now stuff it, you smarmy little Thought Cop.
Things to do in Montreal when baseball's dead
Or in Viera, Fla., for that matter, as the DC Examiner recounts
Some guys go to MLB "fantasy camp" to relive past (marginal) glory---or, more likely, to live a glory that never occurred. Now imagine traveling down to the Grapefruit League and rooting for a team that doesn't even exist. Just read the story of Sylvain Tremblay in the Examiner:
When Baseball Prospectus and like publications stray from the party-line that---well, let's not soft-foot it---"Golly, those Expos fans really sucked there near the end!", they usually do so in a rather caustic manner. In fact, one BP writer has managed to jerk-store himself just one step short of "fatwa status" with a distinguished DC blogger. (Consequently, I'll be interested to read the comments on the Nats in the BP hardcover, which I purchased last week. Leafing through it, there appears to be a sentimental tribute to the Expos in the Nats team essay, plus---for our reading pleasure!---it looks like Dayn Perry wrote a lengthy essay on the whole situation near the back of the book.) [Late edit: False alarm, everybody. In the "Comments" to this post, Randolph corrects me; it was actually Derek Zumsteg, an entertaining if somewhat caustic writer in his own right, who penned/keyboarded the essay. Many thanks to you, Randolph!]
It's a shame that such takes usually swing the pendulum so far in the opposite direction, because then we lose sight of the empathy we really should have for die-hards like Tremblay:
Unfortunately, franchise relocation (without remedial expansion, as with the NFL) is a zero-sum game. We just happen to have the "one," and Tremblay, the poor soul, is stuck with zero. From one baseball fan to another, my heart goes out to him.
Some guys go to MLB "fantasy camp" to relive past (marginal) glory---or, more likely, to live a glory that never occurred. Now imagine traveling down to the Grapefruit League and rooting for a team that doesn't even exist. Just read the story of Sylvain Tremblay in the Examiner:
The blue Expos jerseys they wore daily said enough. [. . .] It's breaking my heart," Sylvain Tremblay says in a French accent. "But I can see it's not the Expos anymore." Tremblay, 39, and his son, Dominick, 11, became mini-celebrities during their stay here, without much effort. [. . .] "A few of them told us we were out of date, . . . and they'd look at us like we were from UFOs or something. But half the people didn't notice we were here."
When Baseball Prospectus and like publications stray from the party-line that---well, let's not soft-foot it---"Golly, those Expos fans really sucked there near the end!", they usually do so in a rather caustic manner. In fact, one BP writer has managed to jerk-store himself just one step short of "fatwa status" with a distinguished DC blogger. (Consequently, I'll be interested to read the comments on the Nats in the BP hardcover, which I purchased last week. Leafing through it, there appears to be a sentimental tribute to the Expos in the Nats team essay, plus---for our reading pleasure!---it looks like Dayn Perry wrote a lengthy essay on the whole situation near the back of the book.) [Late edit: False alarm, everybody. In the "Comments" to this post, Randolph corrects me; it was actually Derek Zumsteg, an entertaining if somewhat caustic writer in his own right, who penned/keyboarded the essay. Many thanks to you, Randolph!]
It's a shame that such takes usually swing the pendulum so far in the opposite direction, because then we lose sight of the empathy we really should have for die-hards like Tremblay:
They were among a minority in their home of Montreal, too: loyal Expos fans. The Tremblays would attend 40 games a year and last year, knowing the Expos soon would be gone, they purchased season tickets. They splurged for second-row seats behind the dugout. Often times, Tremblay and his son would arrive 90 minutes before the game, getting autographs, baseballs and pictures.
Unfortunately, franchise relocation (without remedial expansion, as with the NFL) is a zero-sum game. We just happen to have the "one," and Tremblay, the poor soul, is stuck with zero. From one baseball fan to another, my heart goes out to him.
Hello from Scrubbsville
Or, "Is 'Labandeira' Spanish for "The Mark Teixiera Band'?"
No, probably not. But the Porterville (Ca.) Record does give a nice shout-out a local hero, and, insofar as the words "Josh Labandeira" have never (if I recall) appeared at this blog, I thought it would be nice to catch up with Josh.
The linked article provides a recap of poor Josh's plight:
Now, as Lieutenant Caffee might say, "I don't know what any of that means, but it sounds pretty bad."
Indeed:
This last sentence, by the way, reframes the issue of my attention to the New Orleans squad in MVP Baseball 2005 from "benignly neglectful" to "extraordinarily prescient." I can't remember if the computer or I arranged it this way, but he's New Orleans's DH in the video game, and I haven't bothered to change it yet.
If you put two-and-two together (which the article doesn't really, though that's no great sin, considering it's a local profile), Labandeira's injury couldn't have come at a worse time. It's common knowledge that Jim Bowden (a/k/a "Trading Junkie") is looking for a dedicated back-up to Cristian Guzman, beyond just utility man Jamey Carroll. A healthy Labandeira is an option, as he advocates:
Good attitude.
What else could Labandeira offer the team? Or, phrased another way, could he fill in if Guzman were injured for a long stretch? I don't know. He's performed okay---decent average, pretty good OBP---in the lower minors, though usually as a guy a step old for his level. Last year, as a 25 year-old repeater at Double-A, he hit .270/.357/.381, which isn't a bad line for the Eastern League. He also committed 32 errors, which might have been the glenoid, uh, the thing wrong with him.
Then again, in his previous two full seasons, he'd committed 25 errors (splitting time between A- and Double-A) and 34 errors (in a full season at A-ball). Even granting that minor league infields aren't exactly pristine all the time, I'm not sure that Bowden will look at Labandeira's C.V. and say, "Hey, there's my defensive caddy."
We'll root for Josh, though---as, I'm sure, will the town of Porterville.
No, probably not. But the Porterville (Ca.) Record does give a nice shout-out a local hero, and, insofar as the words "Josh Labandeira" have never (if I recall) appeared at this blog, I thought it would be nice to catch up with Josh.
The linked article provides a recap of poor Josh's plight:
[Labandeira played] seven games with the big-league club at the end of the 2004 season. Hampered with a sore arm since July, a postseason MRI revealed he had torn 50 percent of the glenoid capsule in his shoulder,
requiring surgery and rehabilitation. The glenoid capsule is part of the
glenhohumeral joint that allows 360-degree motion. The injury was to his
throwing arm.
Now, as Lieutenant Caffee might say, "I don't know what any of that means, but it sounds pretty bad."
Indeed:
On Oct. 15 the shortstop had surgery and after months of rehabilitation he reported to minor league spring training on Feb. 27 in Melbourne, Fla. [. . .] Presently, Labandeira is fielding ground balls and entering games as the designated hitter, but has yet to make a throw to first.
This last sentence, by the way, reframes the issue of my attention to the New Orleans squad in MVP Baseball 2005 from "benignly neglectful" to "extraordinarily prescient." I can't remember if the computer or I arranged it this way, but he's New Orleans's DH in the video game, and I haven't bothered to change it yet.
If you put two-and-two together (which the article doesn't really, though that's no great sin, considering it's a local profile), Labandeira's injury couldn't have come at a worse time. It's common knowledge that Jim Bowden (a/k/a "Trading Junkie") is looking for a dedicated back-up to Cristian Guzman, beyond just utility man Jamey Carroll. A healthy Labandeira is an option, as he advocates:
"I may have had the best arm in the organization, infield-wise," said Labandeira, who knows he has a long road back to the Majors. "If Guzman goes down, I need to be healthy and be playing at the level I was playing last year ... I don't see that being a problem."
Good attitude.
What else could Labandeira offer the team? Or, phrased another way, could he fill in if Guzman were injured for a long stretch? I don't know. He's performed okay---decent average, pretty good OBP---in the lower minors, though usually as a guy a step old for his level. Last year, as a 25 year-old repeater at Double-A, he hit .270/.357/.381, which isn't a bad line for the Eastern League. He also committed 32 errors, which might have been the glenoid, uh, the thing wrong with him.
Then again, in his previous two full seasons, he'd committed 25 errors (splitting time between A- and Double-A) and 34 errors (in a full season at A-ball). Even granting that minor league infields aren't exactly pristine all the time, I'm not sure that Bowden will look at Labandeira's C.V. and say, "Hey, there's my defensive caddy."
We'll root for Josh, though---as, I'm sure, will the town of Porterville.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Come on and shine
Hints, allegations, things left unsaid
Today was Jose Guillen Day in DC. You might have heard that Congress was up really late the other night, and the president was anxiously awaiting a bill to sign. Well, that was the Jose Guillen Day bill; yeah, DC's pumped up about its baseball.
Guillen gets the double-shot treatment from the Post and Times today. Both are fairly cheery, optimistic looks at Guillen's, well, sometimes uncentered personality. But, really, we know about this stuff, anyway.
The Post story explores an angle that the Times article does not, however. Specifically, Barry Svrluga incorporates a detailed assessment of Guillen by Jose Rijo, who shares a hometown with Guillen and is now a Nats special assistant under family man Jim Bowden. Svrluga's article lays out some credentials that would qualify Rijo to make a particularized evaluation of Guillen---not that this quote differs greatly from your standard sportswriter take:
Nevertheless, The Nat Fanatic took umbrage with Rijo---if not with Rijo's words themselves, then with Rijo's words in concert with his position in the organization and his history with Guillen:
Reasonable minds can disagree, and I suppose they do here, because I don't find what Rijo said to be particularly objectionable.
1) On the simplest level, I think Rijo can and should say whatever the hell he wants to with respect to Guillen. He goes way back with the guy---knows first-hand Guillen's emotional strengths and weaknesses. What Rijo has witnessed is rather probative to the issue of Guillen's demeanor. (Although an interesting exercise is to imagine that Svrluga, not a native of the Dominican Republic such as Rijo, is the source of the thoughts on Dominican youngsters; Barry would probably get fired.)
2) Quotes from Guillen during this offseason steer me to the arm-chair conclusion that the guy rates about a 4-out-of-10 on the "Respect for Authority Meter." Presumably, Guillen looks up to Rijo---who, after all, is an older, more experienced native of his hometown. Perhaps he'll take better to constructive criticism from a fellow he naturally respects.
3) Guillen also strikes me as a classic happy-when-things-are-going-well, p.o.'ed-when-they're-not player. Remember his quote from January about playing time? To paraphrase, it was, "Hey Manager-man: So help me God if you bench me." So I'm not sure exactly how relevant his spring demeanor might be if he's hitting .245 in late July, the team is 41-54, and Robinson says, "Hey, let's mix in some guys from New Orleans."
4) Rijo's quotations are not wholly pessimistic; rather, Rijo's main point is that the guy just isn't there yet:
All told, I don't see that what Rijo said is all that big a deal, although I'll acknowledge that The Fanatic's take is not necessarily over-sensitive, either.
---You might have noticed, or you might not have, that I've been away for a few days. So, to clarify the issue: Yes, I've been away for a few days. Today, in fact, I was actually in a neat locale where Nats hats abound. (For the record, Ballwonk isn't alone in believing that the blue hats are superior; not sure about the conjured green ones, though.) I grew up in Richmond and do like it, but I must concede that I miss DC.
---Amazingly, the "On being a GW basketball fan" series added another reader beyond the few I knew who would find it even somewhat interesting. Duly emboldened---and eased from the shackles of what was holding up Part III---I will conclude the series with the thrilling, um, conclusion either tomorrow or Thursday.
Today was Jose Guillen Day in DC. You might have heard that Congress was up really late the other night, and the president was anxiously awaiting a bill to sign. Well, that was the Jose Guillen Day bill; yeah, DC's pumped up about its baseball.
Guillen gets the double-shot treatment from the Post and Times today. Both are fairly cheery, optimistic looks at Guillen's, well, sometimes uncentered personality. But, really, we know about this stuff, anyway.
The Post story explores an angle that the Times article does not, however. Specifically, Barry Svrluga incorporates a detailed assessment of Guillen by Jose Rijo, who shares a hometown with Guillen and is now a Nats special assistant under family man Jim Bowden. Svrluga's article lays out some credentials that would qualify Rijo to make a particularized evaluation of Guillen---not that this quote differs greatly from your standard sportswriter take:
"He's in my top five ability-wise. But then again, he's not in the top 1,000 on my list of behavior."
Nevertheless, The Nat Fanatic took umbrage with Rijo---if not with Rijo's words themselves, then with Rijo's words in concert with his position in the organization and his history with Guillen:
You want a player to change? Support him. Don't get quoted in a national ewspaper, as Rijo did, saying "he's not in the top 1,000 on my list of behavior". Guillen has done nothing - nothing - but show a positive attitude, a big smile, and pretty darn good play since he arrived at Spring Training. It's one thing to take a "Spring Training doesn't matter" stance with respect to wins and loses, but it sure does matter when it comes to your players' performance. Guillen's doing what he should be doing, and for that he should get support from team management. Sure, it's reasonable to have reservations. It's even reasonable to mention them in an interview. But it's inexcusable to talk about them without spending as much time - or even more - on Guillen's positive aspects.
Reasonable minds can disagree, and I suppose they do here, because I don't find what Rijo said to be particularly objectionable.
1) On the simplest level, I think Rijo can and should say whatever the hell he wants to with respect to Guillen. He goes way back with the guy---knows first-hand Guillen's emotional strengths and weaknesses. What Rijo has witnessed is rather probative to the issue of Guillen's demeanor. (Although an interesting exercise is to imagine that Svrluga, not a native of the Dominican Republic such as Rijo, is the source of the thoughts on Dominican youngsters; Barry would probably get fired.)
2) Quotes from Guillen during this offseason steer me to the arm-chair conclusion that the guy rates about a 4-out-of-10 on the "Respect for Authority Meter." Presumably, Guillen looks up to Rijo---who, after all, is an older, more experienced native of his hometown. Perhaps he'll take better to constructive criticism from a fellow he naturally respects.
3) Guillen also strikes me as a classic happy-when-things-are-going-well, p.o.'ed-when-they're-not player. Remember his quote from January about playing time? To paraphrase, it was, "Hey Manager-man: So help me God if you bench me." So I'm not sure exactly how relevant his spring demeanor might be if he's hitting .245 in late July, the team is 41-54, and Robinson says, "Hey, let's mix in some guys from New Orleans."
4) Rijo's quotations are not wholly pessimistic; rather, Rijo's main point is that the guy just isn't there yet:
"The little things in life that make you a better person, he doesn't understand them yet. He hasn't started doing all of them yet. Will he start doing them? Yes, he will. But right now, he hasn't proven he can do them all the time."
All told, I don't see that what Rijo said is all that big a deal, although I'll acknowledge that The Fanatic's take is not necessarily over-sensitive, either.
---You might have noticed, or you might not have, that I've been away for a few days. So, to clarify the issue: Yes, I've been away for a few days. Today, in fact, I was actually in a neat locale where Nats hats abound. (For the record, Ballwonk isn't alone in believing that the blue hats are superior; not sure about the conjured green ones, though.) I grew up in Richmond and do like it, but I must concede that I miss DC.
---Amazingly, the "On being a GW basketball fan" series added another reader beyond the few I knew who would find it even somewhat interesting. Duly emboldened---and eased from the shackles of what was holding up Part III---I will conclude the series with the thrilling, um, conclusion either tomorrow or Thursday.
Friday, March 18, 2005
Dial "N" for "Nothing"
It's raining in Viera; fat guys in suits like to hear their voices. What else is new?
Well, Peter Angelos hasn't shot himself in the foot in four whole days, which is noteworthy, I suppose. But that doesn't mean his so-very-maganimous offer to allow the Nats to be the undercard on his oh-so-vast television network is being noodled silently by MLB. No siree . . . uh . . . Pete. Or "Bob" is just as good, too, actually, if Eric Fisher's article in the Times is any indication.
That's because Seligian consort Bob DuPuy, aptly dubbed "Grimace" by Capitol Punishment Chris, is having none of this stuff. Two points here:
1) Since I'm reliving college this week, I might as well share my ever-lasting image of "Grimace" (the "real" one) and why it fits for DuPuy---generally, at least. You see, my college buddy Harry Haas hated, hated, hated Grimace from the cheesy McDonald's commercials. Why? Who knows. Harry also has a tremendously vivid imagination. He would, egged on by our requests, create increasingly bizarre scenarios of Grimace's death. Some were more grisly than others, but my favorite has to be the drive-by shooting. You see, the Hamburgler would cap Grimace good. Grimace would fall to the ground, surrounded by a collecting pool of blue blood. Ronald McDonald would discover Grimace's body, just too late as it were, and shout at the top of his lungs, "YOU BASTARDS!!!" (This was before the similar "South Park" line, by the way.) Just perfect.
2) Nevertheless, we're all cheering for Grimace DuPuy as admirers of the strange marriage of (in)convenience known as the Washington Nationals. So he can hold on to dear life a little longer, if it were up to me. By the way, back to Angelos, sometimes the best way to expose a person for what is he is not by screaming, "Liar!" Sometimes the best method is just offering a simple factual statement and letting other minds connect the dots. DuPuy does so wonderfully here:
Yep. That's it; no need even asserting that "Peter's view" blows. Anyone who cares and is honest about it knows already.
---What's the difference between sportswriting and blogging?
Well, there must be many of them, but I'd imagine a hard-and-fast one is demonstrated by Barry Svrluga in today's PG-13 "Nats Journal" entry:
Well, Peter Angelos hasn't shot himself in the foot in four whole days, which is noteworthy, I suppose. But that doesn't mean his so-very-maganimous offer to allow the Nats to be the undercard on his oh-so-vast television network is being noodled silently by MLB. No siree . . . uh . . . Pete. Or "Bob" is just as good, too, actually, if Eric Fisher's article in the Times is any indication.
That's because Seligian consort Bob DuPuy, aptly dubbed "Grimace" by Capitol Punishment Chris, is having none of this stuff. Two points here:
1) Since I'm reliving college this week, I might as well share my ever-lasting image of "Grimace" (the "real" one) and why it fits for DuPuy---generally, at least. You see, my college buddy Harry Haas hated, hated, hated Grimace from the cheesy McDonald's commercials. Why? Who knows. Harry also has a tremendously vivid imagination. He would, egged on by our requests, create increasingly bizarre scenarios of Grimace's death. Some were more grisly than others, but my favorite has to be the drive-by shooting. You see, the Hamburgler would cap Grimace good. Grimace would fall to the ground, surrounded by a collecting pool of blue blood. Ronald McDonald would discover Grimace's body, just too late as it were, and shout at the top of his lungs, "YOU BASTARDS!!!" (This was before the similar "South Park" line, by the way.) Just perfect.
2) Nevertheless, we're all cheering for Grimace DuPuy as admirers of the strange marriage of (in)convenience known as the Washington Nationals. So he can hold on to dear life a little longer, if it were up to me. By the way, back to Angelos, sometimes the best way to expose a person for what is he is not by screaming, "Liar!" Sometimes the best method is just offering a simple factual statement and letting other minds connect the dots. DuPuy does so wonderfully here:
"Peter expressed his view," DuPuy said.
Yep. That's it; no need even asserting that "Peter's view" blows. Anyone who cares and is honest about it knows already.
---What's the difference between sportswriting and blogging?
Well, there must be many of them, but I'd imagine a hard-and-fast one is demonstrated by Barry Svrluga in today's PG-13 "Nats Journal" entry:
And the Nationals will face ... Kris Benson. It is a challenge to write even one sentence about Kris Benson and not mention his wife, Anna. See, I can't do it without writing about Anna. I'm trying to write a sentence about the Mets' righty without mentioning Anna, who has an exuberant ... uh, personality. Remember how earlier this offseason Anna said on the Howard Stern show that if Kris ever cheated on her she'd sleep with everybody else on his team, including the coaches and clubhouse attendants? The notable exception:
sports writers. It shows that she is far wiser than she comes across.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
On being a GW basketball fan, Part II
Part II: 1994-98 (or, "Hey, Mike Jarvis really likes Ukrainian guys")
George Washington has a summer campus orientation and touring committee comprised mainly of rising sophomores and juniors who handle the various summer orientation sessions and create the image of peer-to-peer assistance and advice. I think they were called the Summer Stars, but I'm rather ashamed to admit that I can't recall exactly. Maybe this is just a selective memory, though; after I graduated, I managed a dorm that housed the "Summer Stars," and they truly did receive star treatment.
But who am I kidding? In 1994, the real star was Mike Jarvis.
As part of the summer orientation before my freshman year, they herded us into the Smith Center for a pep rally of sorts with Coach Jarvis. The Smith Center is one of those 5,000-seat college facilities that is part-arena and part-gym. It looks fairly innocuous when it's relatively empty during the day-time, but as I observed first-hand a few months later, fill it even 75% up at night, and it's a pretty rockin' place.
Jarvis spent a few moments reflecting on what an honor it was for us to attend GW and encouraged us all to support the men's and women's basketball teams, as well as the other sports teams. He took a few questions, including one from some chucklehead who asked if Jarvis accepted walk-ons---Jarvis flashed his signature smile and said he'd take the question privately---and then instructed the stars to teach us the fight song:
Hail to the Buff,
George Washington has a summer campus orientation and touring committee comprised mainly of rising sophomores and juniors who handle the various summer orientation sessions and create the image of peer-to-peer assistance and advice. I think they were called the Summer Stars, but I'm rather ashamed to admit that I can't recall exactly. Maybe this is just a selective memory, though; after I graduated, I managed a dorm that housed the "Summer Stars," and they truly did receive star treatment.
But who am I kidding? In 1994, the real star was Mike Jarvis.
As part of the summer orientation before my freshman year, they herded us into the Smith Center for a pep rally of sorts with Coach Jarvis. The Smith Center is one of those 5,000-seat college facilities that is part-arena and part-gym. It looks fairly innocuous when it's relatively empty during the day-time, but as I observed first-hand a few months later, fill it even 75% up at night, and it's a pretty rockin' place.
Jarvis spent a few moments reflecting on what an honor it was for us to attend GW and encouraged us all to support the men's and women's basketball teams, as well as the other sports teams. He took a few questions, including one from some chucklehead who asked if Jarvis accepted walk-ons---Jarvis flashed his signature smile and said he'd take the question privately---and then instructed the stars to teach us the fight song:
Hail to the Buff,
Hail to the Blue,
Hail to the Buff and Blue!
All our lives we'll be proud to say,
We hail from GW!Go Big Blue!
Oh, by George, we're happy we can say,
We're GW, here to show the way,
so Raise high the Buff!
Raise high the Blue!
Loyal to GW
You bet we're
Loyal to GW!
Fight!
For some reason, learning one's college fight song can really pump a guy up. Unfortunately, it was still late June. My first love, baseball, could sustain me, but even then not for long: 1994, of course, was the season of The Strike. The lights went out on August 12. It was football-or-bust until November. I managed, somehow.
This article from the GW Hatchet serves as nice factual background for the Colonials of my college years; the narrative ends in the summer of 1998, just a month or two after I graduated. If you just want to know how the Colonials played, generally, during 1994-98, read the linked article. I'll confess I picked up a detail or two in retrospect from the article myself. But who really cares about a straight history of the GW basketball program? If you're reading this, you're reading it because it's a personal account. So read on, if you want.
My GW basketball experience began with an exhibition romp over one of those pathetic preseason touring squads like "Athletes in Action." I think this one was comprised of Latvian Circus Freaks. It wasn't really a competitive atmosphere, concededly, but it sure was fun. I had been to plenty of college basketball games, at U-Hall in Charlottesville, at the Richmond Coliseum, at UR's Robins Center (which is basically a dead 70-80s NBA arena, except with half the seats); but I had never been in a student section. Man, was it fun.
A bunch of friends signed up and paid up to join "The Dog Pound"; membership provided the privilege of sitting (really, standing) really close to the court. I declined, though, deciding I didn't need to pop twenty bucks for the chance to wear a yellow tee-shirt and look like a fool on television. Besides, I found the name boring and derivative; if I had a vote, I would have advocated for something more Washingtonian ("The Wooden Teeth Gang") or old-timey political (like "The Whigs"; get it?---ooh, double entendre!). It was no matter, though, because soon there would be another, more inclusive fan club. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The '94-95 season started in a humiliating fashion.Duke beat the crunk out of GW (something like 100-64) in one of those annoying games at Cameron Indoor Stadium where the snotty Dukies are more concerned with properly coordinating the "whoa . . . SIT DOWN!" taunt when an opposing player fouls out than in even watching the game. Well, come to think of it, that's every Duke home game. (What is worse is that this was Duke's lost season; by January, Coach K had stepped down temporarily for health reasons, and the Blue Devils finished last in the ACC.)
Anyway, things improved tremendously rapidly thereafter. I could be mixing up the order of events, but I believe the next game was the upset of Syracuse (ranked No. 12; John Wallace, star; a year away from the title game) in the Preseason NIT. It was just an unreal game---high-scoring, overtime. The Colonials made their way to Madison Square Garden and won the consolation game after losing to Ohio, led by future NBA'er Gary Trent
To be honest, by this time, we had all forgotten about Yinka Dare. (It was easier to do so knowing that he was an instant NBA bust.) There was a new star big man, some big, lumbering dude from the Ukraine blessed with the pun-able name of Alexander Koul. The guy was big; no, he was huge. I missed Dare, but got someone at least 95% of his size in return, and this one was reasonably skilled---at least initially. Koul was probably 7-foot-1 and could, when he wanted, just push guys out of his way. He had a decent little jump hook and could sink maybe 70% of his free throws. When you're a college player, if you can do this stuff, you can get by, even if you don't improve one iota over the course of your career. (More on that below.)
Alexander Koul was a sensation. Faster than you could say Ambesol, the guy had inspired his own fan-club, "Koul and the Gang." Everyone on campus that cared about basketball knew who he was. Admittedly, that isn't hard when you're looking at a gigantic Russian guy, but you also knew him by his posse. There was the other Ukrainian guy, supposedly signed up by Jarvis as part of a package deal to get Koul on scholarship. (Consequently, lots of us called the other guy "The Butt Buddy.") Then there was Koul's girlfriend, who was approximately four feet tall. It was an odd-looking threesome, but hey---I'm sure they weren't as odd as Pete Rose's confederates.
Not to dwell on this season, my first on campus, but . . . it was my first on campus. This was all new. The Atlantic Ten in the mid-90s was BIG-TIME college basketball. Allen ("9-for-27") Iverson was a freshman at Georgetown this season, John Thompson was still John Thompson (in other words, he was still five years away from stepping down and lowering himself to the status of ill-prepared afternoon talk host on a pathetic, low-rated AM sports talker), Joe Smith was an all-everything freshman at Maryland---and the coverage of GW's team was pretty much on an equal footing.
Or sometimes much more than equal. I speak, of course, to a game that inspired this Hatchet headline:
THE GREATEST GAME OF ALL TIME
Here's how the Hatchet retrospective described it:
For some reason, learning one's college fight song can really pump a guy up. Unfortunately, it was still late June. My first love, baseball, could sustain me, but even then not for long: 1994, of course, was the season of The Strike. The lights went out on August 12. It was football-or-bust until November. I managed, somehow.
This article from the GW Hatchet serves as nice factual background for the Colonials of my college years; the narrative ends in the summer of 1998, just a month or two after I graduated. If you just want to know how the Colonials played, generally, during 1994-98, read the linked article. I'll confess I picked up a detail or two in retrospect from the article myself. But who really cares about a straight history of the GW basketball program? If you're reading this, you're reading it because it's a personal account. So read on, if you want.
My GW basketball experience began with an exhibition romp over one of those pathetic preseason touring squads like "Athletes in Action." I think this one was comprised of Latvian Circus Freaks. It wasn't really a competitive atmosphere, concededly, but it sure was fun. I had been to plenty of college basketball games, at U-Hall in Charlottesville, at the Richmond Coliseum, at UR's Robins Center (which is basically a dead 70-80s NBA arena, except with half the seats); but I had never been in a student section. Man, was it fun.
A bunch of friends signed up and paid up to join "The Dog Pound"; membership provided the privilege of sitting (really, standing) really close to the court. I declined, though, deciding I didn't need to pop twenty bucks for the chance to wear a yellow tee-shirt and look like a fool on television. Besides, I found the name boring and derivative; if I had a vote, I would have advocated for something more Washingtonian ("The Wooden Teeth Gang") or old-timey political (like "The Whigs"; get it?---ooh, double entendre!). It was no matter, though, because soon there would be another, more inclusive fan club. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
The '94-95 season started in a humiliating fashion.Duke beat the crunk out of GW (something like 100-64) in one of those annoying games at Cameron Indoor Stadium where the snotty Dukies are more concerned with properly coordinating the "whoa . . . SIT DOWN!" taunt when an opposing player fouls out than in even watching the game. Well, come to think of it, that's every Duke home game. (What is worse is that this was Duke's lost season; by January, Coach K had stepped down temporarily for health reasons, and the Blue Devils finished last in the ACC.)
Anyway, things improved tremendously rapidly thereafter. I could be mixing up the order of events, but I believe the next game was the upset of Syracuse (ranked No. 12; John Wallace, star; a year away from the title game) in the Preseason NIT. It was just an unreal game---high-scoring, overtime. The Colonials made their way to Madison Square Garden and won the consolation game after losing to Ohio, led by future NBA'er Gary Trent
To be honest, by this time, we had all forgotten about Yinka Dare. (It was easier to do so knowing that he was an instant NBA bust.) There was a new star big man, some big, lumbering dude from the Ukraine blessed with the pun-able name of Alexander Koul. The guy was big; no, he was huge. I missed Dare, but got someone at least 95% of his size in return, and this one was reasonably skilled---at least initially. Koul was probably 7-foot-1 and could, when he wanted, just push guys out of his way. He had a decent little jump hook and could sink maybe 70% of his free throws. When you're a college player, if you can do this stuff, you can get by, even if you don't improve one iota over the course of your career. (More on that below.)
Alexander Koul was a sensation. Faster than you could say Ambesol, the guy had inspired his own fan-club, "Koul and the Gang." Everyone on campus that cared about basketball knew who he was. Admittedly, that isn't hard when you're looking at a gigantic Russian guy, but you also knew him by his posse. There was the other Ukrainian guy, supposedly signed up by Jarvis as part of a package deal to get Koul on scholarship. (Consequently, lots of us called the other guy "The Butt Buddy.") Then there was Koul's girlfriend, who was approximately four feet tall. It was an odd-looking threesome, but hey---I'm sure they weren't as odd as Pete Rose's confederates.
Not to dwell on this season, my first on campus, but . . . it was my first on campus. This was all new. The Atlantic Ten in the mid-90s was BIG-TIME college basketball. Allen ("9-for-27") Iverson was a freshman at Georgetown this season, John Thompson was still John Thompson (in other words, he was still five years away from stepping down and lowering himself to the status of ill-prepared afternoon talk host on a pathetic, low-rated AM sports talker), Joe Smith was an all-everything freshman at Maryland---and the coverage of GW's team was pretty much on an equal footing.
Or sometimes much more than equal. I speak, of course, to a game that inspired this Hatchet headline:
THE GREATEST GAME OF ALL TIME
Here's how the Hatchet retrospective described it:
On GW’s Homecoming, after thousands of students waited overnight in the snow, and in front of surprise visitor President Bill Clinton, the Colonials beat No. 1 Massachusetts 78-75. . . . “That was unreal,” said loyal GW fan Arthur Kirsch (of the game, not Christopher). “GW has the incredible ability to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, and they didn’t do it.”
Well, I don't remember waiting overnight in the snow, but everything else is accurate:
1) President Clinton was there, and it was a surprise to most people I knew. Security was pretty tight, and there you go---there's Clinton sitting in one of the boxes next to GW President Steven Joel Trachtenberg, who is a dead-on match for Teddy Roosevelt, by the way. Chelsea, then probably 15 or 16, was sitting next to SJT's son of about the same age; the rumors were they were dating, or whatever 15 or 16 year-olds do. At half-time, they had a big VIP food spread. It was roped off, but---I swear this is true!---I got close enough to see Clinton walk by with a plate stacked a foot high with slices of pizza. Clinton and daughter were gone well before the end, though.
2) UMass was No. 1. This was a really, really good team. Marcus Camby wasn't even the big star yet; in fact, I don't even think he played, due to injury.
3) GW did nearly blow the game. I just remember my roommate and I mirroring the same dour expression with about two minutes left. I can't remember if the Colonials lost the lead or merely blew a seemingly insurmountable lead. I don't remember much, in fact, except for flashing recollections of exhilaration and desperation---alternating, almost, with each rapid heart beat. If I had been an objective observer, I would have deemed the game "exciting," I'm sure. But then, I wouldn't have known the half of it.
4) It was unreal. The celebration on the court was madness. I'm not a touchy guy, especially for a person of Greek descent; a head-nod or a handshake is enough for me. But that January Saturday afternoon, man, I hugged everyone in existence. What a thrill.
Well, that win---and then another win against UMass, still a top-five team, soon thereafter---sustained us until March, which was a disaster. As I recall, the Colonials---remember, sporting three victories over top teams---were on the bubble going into the last regular season game, at Rutgers. We watched it over some sort of spartan closed-circuit connection in a residence hall. Rutgers won. That dropped us to like 17-10. We had a rematch against Rutgers in the A-10 tourney. We lost; that made us 17-11. Hello, NIT. Rematch against Ohio U.; one and gone in the NIT. Such a shame---between Koul, pure scorer Kwame Evans, senior swingman Nimbo Hammonds, and junior forward Vaughn Jones, this team had talent.
It came together more fluidly the next year. I spent my sophomore year studying in Richmond, but I came up on a lot of weekends to watch the team, and it was a much better unit. For one, Pitt transfer/millstone Omo Moses had graduated, freeing up the point guard spot for little Shawnta Rogers, who became academically eligible in January 1996. (I think it's fairly common knowledge that Shawnta had a learning disability of some sort; at any rate, a friend was in the same geology class and claimed that Shawnta spelled it with a "j"; anyway.) Yegor (meister) Mescheriakov, yet another Ukrainian guy, emerged as a front-line complement to Koul, who really needed one, because he would only regress from this point on.
The Colonials did it again to No. 1 UMass---this time on the road and this time directly against Camby, who---I'll never forget---taunted Koul tremendously after making a strong move to the hole in the first half but didn't have much to say afterward. The Colonials, establishing what would be a serpentine shape in my college years, spent some of the season ranked and made the NCAA tourney.
And, in the first round against Iowa, they committed an all-time choke job. Thanks to terribly sloppy play and horrid free throw shooting down the stretch---much of it, strangely, by Vaughn Jones, who had clinched the epic UMass game a year earlier with clutch late foul shooting---surrended a 17-point lead in the final seven or eight minutes. Incredibly, they lost.
I was back on campus full-time for my junior year, and aside from one incredible vignette, this was the most dismal season I can recall the Colonials suffering---more dismal, even, than the 1999-2002 lost years. Maybe I feel this way because I was so much closer to the program then; maybe it was because the team seemed an incredible underachievement.
Whatever the reason, 1996-97 marked the beginning of the end for the Jarvis era. Ask anyone who attended during this era and who still cares, and that person will invariably roll eyes at the mention of this season. It was an ugly, inconsistent team. It couldn't figure out how it wanted to score. It played a little sloppy on offense; it played a step slow on defense. Koul's salad days had long passed. By late January, we all knew it was NIT-city, baby.
Still, the most remarkable story I can relate from my college years, basketball-wise, comes from this season---not The UMass Game.
It occurred at the Red Auerbach Classic. You might know that Auerbach went to GW; yeah, that was awhile ago. As the program got better in the early 90s, Auerbach's profile at the Smith Center grew again, and the Colonials established an early season tournament (read: let's beat the heck out of the South Carolina States and Dartmouths of the world) in his name. It was half-time of GW's "semi-final" game against Buttcrack U. Auerbach was sitting directly across the court, just sort of relaxing, talking to someone. Maybe it was CNN's Wolf Blitzer, who also attends the games regularly.
Spontaneously, my buddy Chris Balding turned to another friend, who was a sports editor for the Hatchet, and said, "Give me your press pass." The friend didn't really know what to say; he just sort of limply handed the pass over.
Now, there's something you need to know about Balding: he considers himself a sophisticated guy. (I'll reserve comment as to the objective truth, if you know what I mean.) He likes fine wines and enjoys cooking nice dinners and prefers to sip---not mix---vodka. And he loves quality . . .
. . . CIGARS.
The cigar is Auerbach's trademark, of course. So, there's Balding sprinting over to Auerbach's side of the court. He stops about twenty feet short of Red, takes a breath, walks over, taps the other guy on the shoulder, asks to speak to Red, sits down, and puts his arm around Auerbach's shoulder. They start chatting. Balding flashes his usual toothy grin; Auerbach chuckles at something.
And, before you know it, Balding is running right past us, toward the exit of the Smith Center. Upon our request, he stopped briefly to explain what he was doing. Guess. He was running back to his dorm room, because HE WAS GOING TO EXCHANGE CIGARS WITH RED AUERBACH.
In retrospect, I don't know if it seems like that big a deal, but at the time, it really was. Just consider the spontaneous nerve it took to decide, at that instant, that "Hey, I'm going to chat up Red Auerbach. Better yet, I'll give him a cigar." I prefer to remember that Auerbach got a kick out of the whole thing, though it's possible he was just trying to please Balding in order to get the kid out of his way. Although I was across the court and could see the conversation, I'll never really know.
Anyway, in the aforementioned serpentine fashion (reminiscient of late-90s Big Bad Baseball Annual theories of player development), the '97-98 team bounced back; it was a nice pre-graduation gift for the Class of '98. Koul was pretty much a non-factor by then; if he didn't pick up two fouls quicker than a Shawnta Rogers swipe at the ball, then he'd just sort of sit around, pick up a garbage rebound, get fouled, and miss two free throws. But Rogers had really developed, Meschiarakov was a stud, and a couple of swingmen provided some slashing-scoring.
The thugs from Xavier had joined the A-10 by now, and they quickly emerged as a West Division power. And when I say "thugs," I really mean it; Skip Prosser, Thad Motta, whoever coaches them now, it doesn't matter: these guys have always played dirty. We, the Colonial fans, hated those guys immediately. It brought us great satisfaction when freshman Mike King sank two free throws with 0:00.00 on the clock to force OT during a January 1998 game against the Muskateers, a game which GW eventually won. By mid-February, the Colonials were like 20-5 and ranked again. And then things fell apart again.
The nadir of my college years fandom was a late-February home game against Temple. That was another annoying team, by the way. Their best player probably was a young point guard named Pepe Sanchez. (The student section, aided by lots of maturity, called him "Pee Pee.") Sanchez ate us alive with defense and timely shooting. As I walked back to my dorm---I was a resident assistant in the big freshman dorm, Thurston Hall, my last two years---I confessed my despression to one of my residents. She didn't understand the misery; well, I probably was over-reacting, anyway. The Colonials made the NCAAs as a No. 9 need, its highest ever.
And that was it for my college years; I was in Europe on spring break for the opening weekend. By then, GW was out. Roughly about the time some friends and I were feeding beer to a cat in an Antwerp tavern, the Colonials were bowing out innocently to Oklahoma State, by about 15 points. And that was that.
Mike Jarvis, having recovered a bit from a disappointing '96-97 season, jumped at the St. Johns job opening. Jarvis's smile welcomed me to GW, and he left right when I left.
Tomorrow: Graduation, separation, apathy, conflict of interest.
I find your lack of faith disturbing
I should have checked back after the 88 minute rain delay, I guess
If I had, I would have listened in on a pretty nice make-good performance by Zach Day: five innings, 55 pitches (42 strikes vs. 13 balls), one run, no walks, and no gopher balls. According to the article in the Times, his mechanics were sound and he was getting ahead of the Braves' hitters. Frank Robinson was pleased:
And now Day has apparently jumped back into the lead for the final rotation spot---if indeed he lost it in the first place, a point of which Robinson is pretty vague now but wasn't so vague in quotes to the Post's Dave Sheinin after last Friday night's FUBAR against the Cardinals.
National Cheese has a nice entry on just how silly it is to put too much stock in early spring stats, which stretch "very limited" beyond comprehension. It's quite well-written, so I'm going to take the liberty of quoting the whole paragraph:
Of course, a child isn't being paid hundreds of thousands (or millions) of dollars to take the reading test, but you get Cheese's point.
---District of Baseball has a different take on the Nats Fan Clubbers' rally outside the Post building yesterday. Jeff makes two main points, both of which, in retrospect, have some merit:
The first one is something that didn't really occur to me:
I had immediately assumed that the rally was organized outside the Post building for the reason that it would get the Post's attention, and the Post---as a daily with a regional, rather than local, geographical reach---would be the best strategic target for coverage that sends the "fans' message" up toward Baltimore. It didn't really occur to me that the Fan Clubbers might be protesting the Post itself---especially in light of last week's editorial and this week's Boswell and Fisher columns.
Of course, as Jeff notes, whatever the motivation, the Post didn't pick up on the story, apparently---or at least didn't deem it worthy to devote space, either print or electronic. Which leads to Jeff's second point:
I don't live in DC anymore---haven't for almost five years now---but it seems to me like the Nats Fan Club has done an extraordinary job making itself known, at least known to the DC media. I can't really comment on its organizational efforts, especially in light of its success in getting out the word to the print and radio media, but Jeff's probably got a point on the optimal location of a protest. And it makes the first point pretty salient.
I will say that I heard a quick sound bite on WTOP yesterday evening (yes, WTOP-FM reaches to Richmond), and it sounded like more than a dozen people.
If I had, I would have listened in on a pretty nice make-good performance by Zach Day: five innings, 55 pitches (42 strikes vs. 13 balls), one run, no walks, and no gopher balls. According to the article in the Times, his mechanics were sound and he was getting ahead of the Braves' hitters. Frank Robinson was pleased:
"A big step in the right direction," Robinson said. "He can work from that. That was a good outing for him. That's what you're looking for: getting the ball over the plate and challenging hitters."
And now Day has apparently jumped back into the lead for the final rotation spot---if indeed he lost it in the first place, a point of which Robinson is pretty vague now but wasn't so vague in quotes to the Post's Dave Sheinin after last Friday night's FUBAR against the Cardinals.
National Cheese has a nice entry on just how silly it is to put too much stock in early spring stats, which stretch "very limited" beyond comprehension. It's quite well-written, so I'm going to take the liberty of quoting the whole paragraph:
Spring Training is a thorny piece of evidence for causal determinists to deal with. Mike Hinckley, the top pitching prospect in the organization, was sent to AA as a result of his 6 innings of subpar work this Spring. John Rauch pitched pretty well in his 6 innings, and is being talked about as a possible 5th starter. These kinds of decisions are made all the time in Spring Training by GM's, managers and coaches. What's the problem? Anything
can happen in 6 innings! For a major league starting pitcher with a 5 year
career, 6 innings represents 0.7% of his career. For any pitcher in history you can find a 6-inning stretch where they allowed 8 runs and another 6-inning stretch where they allowed no runs. 6 innings simply cannot tell you anything about the capability or potential of a pitcher. Imagine if I gave a child a 3-page reading test but judged his/her literacy based on how they pronounced the first word! I know attention spans are short these days, but making decisions about someone's career based on a fraction of a fraction of their work is pretty dangerous stuff. There is a wonderful book on this topic by Steve Fireovid called "The 26th Man" detailing the patent absurdity of Spring Training analysis.
Of course, a child isn't being paid hundreds of thousands (or millions) of dollars to take the reading test, but you get Cheese's point.
---District of Baseball has a different take on the Nats Fan Clubbers' rally outside the Post building yesterday. Jeff makes two main points, both of which, in retrospect, have some merit:
The first one is something that didn't really occur to me:
While the protest was well intentioned, it was also a bit misguided. Protesting outside the Post makes some assume that the Post is somehow allied with Angelos, or otherwise culpable for publishing the ad. In
fact, the ad is very critical (if wrong) of the Post's coverage; why protest
outside someone Angelos thinks is on your side? The Post, like most other major papers, routinely prints advocacy ads like this, but it doesn't mean the Post supports them.
I had immediately assumed that the rally was organized outside the Post building for the reason that it would get the Post's attention, and the Post---as a daily with a regional, rather than local, geographical reach---would be the best strategic target for coverage that sends the "fans' message" up toward Baltimore. It didn't really occur to me that the Fan Clubbers might be protesting the Post itself---especially in light of last week's editorial and this week's Boswell and Fisher columns.
Of course, as Jeff notes, whatever the motivation, the Post didn't pick up on the story, apparently---or at least didn't deem it worthy to devote space, either print or electronic. Which leads to Jeff's second point:
Perhaps it's fortunate the event didn't gather more media attention: seeing a dozen baseball geeks march outside a newspaper office probably wouldn't do much to win the hearts and minds of the undecided in DC (let alone Baltimore.) If the fan club is really serious about this, they should spend some more time coordinating a protest to increase turnout, coordinate
media coverage, and pick a more suitable venue (if not the Orioles offices in
Baltimore, which might be too far for the casual DC-based protestor, how about the Orioles shop in Farragut Square?)
I don't live in DC anymore---haven't for almost five years now---but it seems to me like the Nats Fan Club has done an extraordinary job making itself known, at least known to the DC media. I can't really comment on its organizational efforts, especially in light of its success in getting out the word to the print and radio media, but Jeff's probably got a point on the optimal location of a protest. And it makes the first point pretty salient.
I will say that I heard a quick sound bite on WTOP yesterday evening (yes, WTOP-FM reaches to Richmond), and it sounded like more than a dozen people.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
If things don't go your way, . . .
. . . just keep complaining until your dreams come true
As I've noted here previously, the Nats, whether they know it or not, hold the distinction of attracting the attention of not one, not two, . . . well, okay---two bloggers. But two bloggers, both from a fairly small and innocuous suburb of a moderately sized DC-junior? That's pretty impressive.
Okay, it's not all that impressive. But it's something. Well, it's probably just coincidental. Never mind.
Anyway, the other Midlo-Nats blogger is Rich Tandler of Capitol Dugout. And, as mentioned previously, the Richmond Times-Dispatch printed a letter Rich wrote a couple of weeks ago, calling out the T-D for more Nats coverage.
Shazam, Sgt. Carter!
Either: a) Rich is very persuasive, b) Rich's letter wasn't the only one the T-D received, or c) the T-D had something planned (most likely). Whatever the impetus, the T-D made up for the paltry coverage and then some, sending columnist John Markon down to lovely Viera.
The T-D's baseball coverage---aside from that of the hometown R-Braves---isn't exactly sophisticated. The only major sport it covers less extensively than MLB is the NBA. But when the T-D devotes local column space to MLB, the source is usually the R-Braves' beat writer or Markon.
Markon's fairly baseball savvy---I recall him citing Bill James as early as 1993---and gives the Richmond readers a pretty good run-down of what to expect from the Nationals. There's the occasional factual error (Brad Wilkerson drove in 67 runs last year, instead of 77), but in general, Markon gives Richmonders all the relevant Nats issues to consider (Endy's OBP; Johnson's health; Ian Desmond's spring brilliance; the team actually having a home)---plus, as an added bonus, throws in a "Moneyball" reference in which he: a) did not make a snide remark, and b) defined exactly what he means by a "Moneyball player." Well done, good sir.
So, keep plugging away there, Markon; this town'll be part of Nats Nation before we know it.
---Bravo to the Nats Fan Clubbers who rallied today against the potential for taxation without representation.
---No Nats game tonight, apparently. I was going to tune in on XM Radio Channel 185, but what I got was the Braves' studio show (now with Mark Lemke!) and a regretful tone concerning the weather. While I have the moment---and while there's not much of interest going on, except that Endy Chavez decided to throw a walk into his stats pack and that Jon Rauch is still really, really tall (and Japanese, apparently)---well, while I have the moment of time, I might as well thrown in some observations from a few days of spring trainin' listenin' on X:
As I've noted here previously, the Nats, whether they know it or not, hold the distinction of attracting the attention of not one, not two, . . . well, okay---two bloggers. But two bloggers, both from a fairly small and innocuous suburb of a moderately sized DC-junior? That's pretty impressive.
Okay, it's not all that impressive. But it's something. Well, it's probably just coincidental. Never mind.
Anyway, the other Midlo-Nats blogger is Rich Tandler of Capitol Dugout. And, as mentioned previously, the Richmond Times-Dispatch printed a letter Rich wrote a couple of weeks ago, calling out the T-D for more Nats coverage.
Shazam, Sgt. Carter!
Either: a) Rich is very persuasive, b) Rich's letter wasn't the only one the T-D received, or c) the T-D had something planned (most likely). Whatever the impetus, the T-D made up for the paltry coverage and then some, sending columnist John Markon down to lovely Viera.
The T-D's baseball coverage---aside from that of the hometown R-Braves---isn't exactly sophisticated. The only major sport it covers less extensively than MLB is the NBA. But when the T-D devotes local column space to MLB, the source is usually the R-Braves' beat writer or Markon.
Markon's fairly baseball savvy---I recall him citing Bill James as early as 1993---and gives the Richmond readers a pretty good run-down of what to expect from the Nationals. There's the occasional factual error (Brad Wilkerson drove in 67 runs last year, instead of 77), but in general, Markon gives Richmonders all the relevant Nats issues to consider (Endy's OBP; Johnson's health; Ian Desmond's spring brilliance; the team actually having a home)---plus, as an added bonus, throws in a "Moneyball" reference in which he: a) did not make a snide remark, and b) defined exactly what he means by a "Moneyball player." Well done, good sir.
So, keep plugging away there, Markon; this town'll be part of Nats Nation before we know it.
---Bravo to the Nats Fan Clubbers who rallied today against the potential for taxation without representation.
---No Nats game tonight, apparently. I was going to tune in on XM Radio Channel 185, but what I got was the Braves' studio show (now with Mark Lemke!) and a regretful tone concerning the weather. While I have the moment---and while there's not much of interest going on, except that Endy Chavez decided to throw a walk into his stats pack and that Jon Rauch is still really, really tall (and Japanese, apparently)---well, while I have the moment of time, I might as well thrown in some observations from a few days of spring trainin' listenin' on X:
- Greetings from ex-Nat Maicer Izturis, now of the Angels. According to the Angels' announcers, Izturis's new team is impressed by his defense, not all that impressed by his fundamentals (bunting, specifically), and Izturis couldn't have been traded to a worse organization---apparently, those guys are stacked with young middle infielders (though, to be honest, I couldn't name them).
- Speaking of the Angels' announcers, man, were they intense near the end of Monday's game versus the Rangers. The Halos entered the eighth inning down 4-1 but rallied the heck out of two or three Texas relievers, ending the eighth up 8-4. The announcers were treating it like a mid-season game.
- The best cheap shots are courtesy of the Kansas City announcers. The Royals were playing the Cubs in Mesa yesterday, and former Royal shortstop/millstone Neifi Perez came to the plate. When Perez popped up to the second baseman, the play-by-play (not longtime announcer Denny Matthews, but another guy) said, "Well, what do you know? A harmless pop to second." Matthews chimed in drying, "Just like old times, eh?" Brian MacRae, offering commentary from the luxurious "third base camera well" outpost (how'd he get that job?), observed, "I guess Neifi left on bad terms, huh?" And the younger announcer, measuring his words a bit, replied, "That would be . . . the understatement of the century." Good times.
- I listened a bit to the Pads-A's game on the way back from work today. Oakland was kicking the tar out of veteran knuckleballer Steve Sparks (though aren't all knuckleballers grizzled veterans?), and Jerry Coleman, infamous for a reputation for genial senility, was passing the time. Coleman was more interesting---and much more lucid---than I ever imagined. According to Coleman, the toughest knuckler he ever saw was thrown by Mickey Mantle, who used to throw one when the old Yankees were just messing around. Interesting.
- During the Braves' rain delay studio show about an hour ago, some guy called in who was from Mark Lemke's home town. Scratch that; the guy lived across the street from Lemke when Lemke was a kid---used to watch him play ball in the street. Who said local radio was dead?
On being a GW basketball fan, Part I
Note: This is a three-series inspired by George Washington's Atlantic Ten Conference tournament championship, its first ever, and a resulting No. 12 seeding in the Albequerque regional of the NCAA tournament. This series contains my personal thoughts and recollections of rooting for GW basketball at various stages of my life; I am a 1998 graduate. While these posts are not Nats-oriented, you are certainly invited to read; some occasional readers are fellow GeeDub graduates.
Part I: Humble beginnings
As a young lad growing up in Virginia in the early 1980s, it was almost impossible for me not to become a college basketball fan. Ralph Sampson was veritable king of the Commonwealth; if he was merely taller and more skilled than 99.44% of the population in real life, he was absolutely larger than life in a boy's imagination. I recall, sitting in Sunday School, being captivated by the story of Samson & Delilah, for the simple reason that it reminded me of Ralph Sampson. We are myopic creatures when we are young; our worlds are as small as our wing-spans. Because of the similarity in names, I immediately assumed that the story must have involved Big Ralph somehow.
The Cavaliers remained a strong program for a few years after Sampson left, even---in classic Ewing Theory style---making the Final Four again while Sampson was already a pro. And when the Cavs subsequently declined a bit around 1986, then 60 miles to the east, where I lived, the Richmond Spiders and the VCU Rams capably attracted my attention and devotion. The Rams were actually a No. 2 seed out of the Sun Belt Conference one year, and the Spiders established themselves as the Cinderella prototype for today, knocking off Charles Barkley and Auburn one year and then reaching the Sweet Sixteen (and dethroning defending champ Indiana) when I was twelve---not to mention knocking off Syracuse, as a No. 15 seed, three years later. In short, I watched a lot of college basketball when I was a boy; the opening Jefferson Pilot Teleproductions (ACC syndicator) theme from the mid/late-80s is burned permanently in my mind.
The Atlantic Ten was also a conference I followed, though not as religiously at the time as those that fielded Virginia schools. But I knew of Temple, which made a mild run at an undefeated season in 1988 and eliminated Richmond before being pulverized by Duke in the East Regional final when star guard Mark Macon shot something like 2-for-24. And I knew of Rhode Island, which had a slightly nutty looking coach named Tom Penders (see below for more) and a star guard whose father always sat in the stands watching the game even though he---the television announcers would always tell us---was blind. And I knew of George Washington, which was 90 miles or so up the road and was not to be confused in any way with Georgetown University on the court.
My family got cable the day after the 1988 national championship game (for some reason, I remember that day vividly), so the '88-89 season was my first with wall-to-wall college basketball coverage (and it was wall-to-wall back then, too). Home Team Sports, the Mid-Atlantic cable "sportsnet" back before FOX Sports pushed that term on us, picked up the A-10 games, and my oh my did the George Washington Colonials stink that year. They went 1-27, and I think their record was a bit lucky; they looked so bad that, if style were the arbiter, their win percentage would have been negative-.750.
By happy coincidence, GW's coach was an alum of a high school whose basketball camp your thirteen year-old Inquirer attended in the summer of 1989. He was a very nice guy, which made it difficult to notify the lesser informed campers that he was the coach of a team that went 1-27.
At any rate, after that summer, I was a GW basketball fan. Insofar as no local teams played in the A-10, it was hard to follow the Colonials fervently. Nevertheless, I knew that the program was improving. A season later, Mike Jarvis, an up-and-comer who coached Patrick Ewing in high school and who led Boston University to the NCAA Tournament, took over the program. Despite being balder than your typical Bud Selig assertion, Jarvis had a certain style and charm that wore well on the casual observer. He played well on the cameras, and his Boston accent sort of set him apart in my mind, much like Richmond coach Dick Tarrant's heavy New York accent.
Sartorially, Jarvis was something of a trend-setter, ditching the typical bland shirt/tie combo for slightly (and progressively) flashier digs; unfortunately, the trend continued, and by the late 90s, college coaches looked like absolute junk. But Jarvis looked pretty neat nearly a decade earlier. Jarvis's teams looked pretty good, too. He quickly built the team into an NIT-quality squad. In 1991, the Colonials made their first A-10 tourney final; in fact, according to a Jarvis retrospective in the Hatchet, GW's newspaper, the '91 A-10 tourney run marked the Colonials' first ever postseason victories. By this time they had laid the groundwork for third banana status in the league, bettered year-in and year-out only by the Temple-UMass hegemony that reigned until the league looked westward in the late 90s.
The '91-92 team was of the same general quality, though it missed out on the NIT. Because the Colonials were becoming established winners, they were appearing on HTS and ESPN more frequently. I rooted for them routinely, except when they played the hometown Richmond Spiders (see Friday's Part III for more on that). This made sense, since I was still a Richmond, Va., kid. UVa was/is an obsession here, and the Spiders were a source of civic pride back then. The Colonial Athletic Association, Richmond's conference back then, was essentially Virginia's league. Sure, UNC-Wilmington and East Carolina and some other out-of-staters were members, but the bulk of the league was Virginia---as the bulk of the ACC used to be North Carolina. And Richmond---though George Mason, James Madison, and Old Dominion; not William & Mary, generally, though---would have better years sometimes---was the face of the league, the classiest program in the state in the early 90s.
But I knew I was reasonably sure I wanted to attend college elsewhere (not too far elsewhere, though), and GW immediately became a top choice. It's a very good school, yes, but to a 16-17 year-old, the basketball program probably carried the day.
And, boy did the '92-93 team carry my day. The Colonials finished in a four-way tie for second in the league behind UMass, who by now was a national power, and well, let's allow the Hatchet to describe it:
The Colonials entered the '93 NCAA tournament as a No. 12 seed, presumably one of the last teams in as an at-large bid. Although I'll address the quality of the league in subsequent editions of this series, let's dwell on this fact: the A-10 was a really, really good league in the 1990s. Not a powerhouse, but one step down; this might incite argument, but there were years, I believe, when it was better than the Big East, the traditional (well, since its early 80s inception) power in the Northeast. In '93, all but two of the eight teams made the postseason, with four squads making the tourney. Even last-place St. Bonaventure was a decent team; it went 0-14 in conference play but ended up 10-17, so unless there was a forfeit situation that I cannot recall now, the Bonnies went 10-2 in non-league play (plus 0-1 presumably in the conference tourney). That's rather amazing. [Note: The A-10 conference's record sheet might be faulty for this season. For some reason, Duquesne doesn't show, even though they were in the league directly before and directly after the '92-93 season.]
So No. 12 seeded GW, led by the raw but powerful Dare, knocked off the No. 5 seed, New Mexico, in the first round, then knocked off Cinderella 13th seed Southern in the second round. That set up a Sweet Sixteen match-up against Michigan. By the way, I loved Michigan. I can't remember when this began; I loved their football team very early on, and it probably translated that early to basketball, too. Glenn Rice was one of my all-time favorite players, and his '89 championship was one of my all-time favorite teams. It pained my to watch Michigan-UVa in the regional final that year (Michigan whacked the Cavs, 102-65, if I recall), and I remember, as a thirteen year-old, being on the verge of tears when Seton Hall almost beat the Wolverines in the championship game. It was natural that I'd like the Fab Five, and I really did. I liked their style (though that, like Jarvis's fashion sense, evolved into a parody of itself), their swagger, and their play.
And now the Fab Five---the second and last full edition---would play GW in the Sweet Sixteen. I rooted for GW.
As I remember it, the Colonials put up a good fight but of course lost. (This was the year of the infamous Chris Webber Timeout against UNC.) But I recall thinking after the tourney run, "I'm definitely applying there."
And, around New Year's of 1994, I did. I was accepted a couple months later; they gave me some very good scholarship money (though it is an expensive private school, of course), and I said, "Sign me up." This was just in time to see GW, led again by a still-raw but still-powerful Dare, make another NCAA tourney.
Their reputation still growing, the 17-11 Colonials scored another at-large bid, this time getting a No. 10 seed. They defeated No. 7 UAB before falling to No. 2 UConn. The game was shown locally, and I recall thinking, "Hey, I'll be able to see Dare dunk in person in just nine months."
It never happened, though.
Dare, setting himself up for tremendous failure, declared himself eligible for the NBA draft. The New Jersey Nets, who were never afraid of tremendous failure, selected him with the 14th pick; they might as well have selected my high school English teacher. He stunk in the NBA and, unfortunately, passed away fairly recently.
Dare symbolically left GW right when I symbolically entered; draft night occurred during the session of freshman orientation I attended in June 1994.
Tomorrow: the college years.
Part I: Humble beginnings
As a young lad growing up in Virginia in the early 1980s, it was almost impossible for me not to become a college basketball fan. Ralph Sampson was veritable king of the Commonwealth; if he was merely taller and more skilled than 99.44% of the population in real life, he was absolutely larger than life in a boy's imagination. I recall, sitting in Sunday School, being captivated by the story of Samson & Delilah, for the simple reason that it reminded me of Ralph Sampson. We are myopic creatures when we are young; our worlds are as small as our wing-spans. Because of the similarity in names, I immediately assumed that the story must have involved Big Ralph somehow.
The Cavaliers remained a strong program for a few years after Sampson left, even---in classic Ewing Theory style---making the Final Four again while Sampson was already a pro. And when the Cavs subsequently declined a bit around 1986, then 60 miles to the east, where I lived, the Richmond Spiders and the VCU Rams capably attracted my attention and devotion. The Rams were actually a No. 2 seed out of the Sun Belt Conference one year, and the Spiders established themselves as the Cinderella prototype for today, knocking off Charles Barkley and Auburn one year and then reaching the Sweet Sixteen (and dethroning defending champ Indiana) when I was twelve---not to mention knocking off Syracuse, as a No. 15 seed, three years later. In short, I watched a lot of college basketball when I was a boy; the opening Jefferson Pilot Teleproductions (ACC syndicator) theme from the mid/late-80s is burned permanently in my mind.
The Atlantic Ten was also a conference I followed, though not as religiously at the time as those that fielded Virginia schools. But I knew of Temple, which made a mild run at an undefeated season in 1988 and eliminated Richmond before being pulverized by Duke in the East Regional final when star guard Mark Macon shot something like 2-for-24. And I knew of Rhode Island, which had a slightly nutty looking coach named Tom Penders (see below for more) and a star guard whose father always sat in the stands watching the game even though he---the television announcers would always tell us---was blind. And I knew of George Washington, which was 90 miles or so up the road and was not to be confused in any way with Georgetown University on the court.
My family got cable the day after the 1988 national championship game (for some reason, I remember that day vividly), so the '88-89 season was my first with wall-to-wall college basketball coverage (and it was wall-to-wall back then, too). Home Team Sports, the Mid-Atlantic cable "sportsnet" back before FOX Sports pushed that term on us, picked up the A-10 games, and my oh my did the George Washington Colonials stink that year. They went 1-27, and I think their record was a bit lucky; they looked so bad that, if style were the arbiter, their win percentage would have been negative-.750.
By happy coincidence, GW's coach was an alum of a high school whose basketball camp your thirteen year-old Inquirer attended in the summer of 1989. He was a very nice guy, which made it difficult to notify the lesser informed campers that he was the coach of a team that went 1-27.
At any rate, after that summer, I was a GW basketball fan. Insofar as no local teams played in the A-10, it was hard to follow the Colonials fervently. Nevertheless, I knew that the program was improving. A season later, Mike Jarvis, an up-and-comer who coached Patrick Ewing in high school and who led Boston University to the NCAA Tournament, took over the program. Despite being balder than your typical Bud Selig assertion, Jarvis had a certain style and charm that wore well on the casual observer. He played well on the cameras, and his Boston accent sort of set him apart in my mind, much like Richmond coach Dick Tarrant's heavy New York accent.
Sartorially, Jarvis was something of a trend-setter, ditching the typical bland shirt/tie combo for slightly (and progressively) flashier digs; unfortunately, the trend continued, and by the late 90s, college coaches looked like absolute junk. But Jarvis looked pretty neat nearly a decade earlier. Jarvis's teams looked pretty good, too. He quickly built the team into an NIT-quality squad. In 1991, the Colonials made their first A-10 tourney final; in fact, according to a Jarvis retrospective in the Hatchet, GW's newspaper, the '91 A-10 tourney run marked the Colonials' first ever postseason victories. By this time they had laid the groundwork for third banana status in the league, bettered year-in and year-out only by the Temple-UMass hegemony that reigned until the league looked westward in the late 90s.
The '91-92 team was of the same general quality, though it missed out on the NIT. Because the Colonials were becoming established winners, they were appearing on HTS and ESPN more frequently. I rooted for them routinely, except when they played the hometown Richmond Spiders (see Friday's Part III for more on that). This made sense, since I was still a Richmond, Va., kid. UVa was/is an obsession here, and the Spiders were a source of civic pride back then. The Colonial Athletic Association, Richmond's conference back then, was essentially Virginia's league. Sure, UNC-Wilmington and East Carolina and some other out-of-staters were members, but the bulk of the league was Virginia---as the bulk of the ACC used to be North Carolina. And Richmond---though George Mason, James Madison, and Old Dominion; not William & Mary, generally, though---would have better years sometimes---was the face of the league, the classiest program in the state in the early 90s.
But I knew I was reasonably sure I wanted to attend college elsewhere (not too far elsewhere, though), and GW immediately became a top choice. It's a very good school, yes, but to a 16-17 year-old, the basketball program probably carried the day.
And, boy did the '92-93 team carry my day. The Colonials finished in a four-way tie for second in the league behind UMass, who by now was a national power, and well, let's allow the Hatchet to describe it:
Behind the play of the Sports Illustrated Freshman of the Year, center Yinka Dare, GW finished 21-9. The season was highlighted by a win over Temple, which broke a 21-game losing streak to the Owls. GW returned to the rankings, but finished out of the Associated Press poll. The Colonials did finish with a No. 21 ranking in the USA Today Coaches Poll.
The Colonials entered the '93 NCAA tournament as a No. 12 seed, presumably one of the last teams in as an at-large bid. Although I'll address the quality of the league in subsequent editions of this series, let's dwell on this fact: the A-10 was a really, really good league in the 1990s. Not a powerhouse, but one step down; this might incite argument, but there were years, I believe, when it was better than the Big East, the traditional (well, since its early 80s inception) power in the Northeast. In '93, all but two of the eight teams made the postseason, with four squads making the tourney. Even last-place St. Bonaventure was a decent team; it went 0-14 in conference play but ended up 10-17, so unless there was a forfeit situation that I cannot recall now, the Bonnies went 10-2 in non-league play (plus 0-1 presumably in the conference tourney). That's rather amazing. [Note: The A-10 conference's record sheet might be faulty for this season. For some reason, Duquesne doesn't show, even though they were in the league directly before and directly after the '92-93 season.]
So No. 12 seeded GW, led by the raw but powerful Dare, knocked off the No. 5 seed, New Mexico, in the first round, then knocked off Cinderella 13th seed Southern in the second round. That set up a Sweet Sixteen match-up against Michigan. By the way, I loved Michigan. I can't remember when this began; I loved their football team very early on, and it probably translated that early to basketball, too. Glenn Rice was one of my all-time favorite players, and his '89 championship was one of my all-time favorite teams. It pained my to watch Michigan-UVa in the regional final that year (Michigan whacked the Cavs, 102-65, if I recall), and I remember, as a thirteen year-old, being on the verge of tears when Seton Hall almost beat the Wolverines in the championship game. It was natural that I'd like the Fab Five, and I really did. I liked their style (though that, like Jarvis's fashion sense, evolved into a parody of itself), their swagger, and their play.
And now the Fab Five---the second and last full edition---would play GW in the Sweet Sixteen. I rooted for GW.
As I remember it, the Colonials put up a good fight but of course lost. (This was the year of the infamous Chris Webber Timeout against UNC.) But I recall thinking after the tourney run, "I'm definitely applying there."
And, around New Year's of 1994, I did. I was accepted a couple months later; they gave me some very good scholarship money (though it is an expensive private school, of course), and I said, "Sign me up." This was just in time to see GW, led again by a still-raw but still-powerful Dare, make another NCAA tourney.
Their reputation still growing, the 17-11 Colonials scored another at-large bid, this time getting a No. 10 seed. They defeated No. 7 UAB before falling to No. 2 UConn. The game was shown locally, and I recall thinking, "Hey, I'll be able to see Dare dunk in person in just nine months."
It never happened, though.
Dare, setting himself up for tremendous failure, declared himself eligible for the NBA draft. The New Jersey Nets, who were never afraid of tremendous failure, selected him with the 14th pick; they might as well have selected my high school English teacher. He stunk in the NBA and, unfortunately, passed away fairly recently.
Dare symbolically left GW right when I symbolically entered; draft night occurred during the session of freshman orientation I attended in June 1994.
Tomorrow: the college years.
Story? Not a story?
Overheard this morning drive on ESPN Radio (XM No. 140, for those scoring at home)
Mike & Mike had on assignment reporter Mark Schwartz (insert "Space Balls" joke . . . now), who broke (?) the story that analysis of the subpoenaed documents delivered by MLB to Congress might indicate that the new steroids policy lacks the teeth it was advertised to have. Specifically, instead of a 10-day suspension (and de facto outing) on a first offense, the possibility exists that there exists the option of the suspension or a $10,000 fine (presumably a hush-job).
Two possible implications emerge, if this is true:
1) Bud Selig---brace yourself now---misrepresented the contents of the new agreement publicly; or,
2) Bud Selig---again, get ready for a shock---is so incompetent that he and his negotiators cannot signed an agreement that had not been thoroughly scrutinized.
Or, third, congressman Davis is blowing smoke. That’s possible, too.
Anyway, I have no idea if this still is a story (haven't had a chance to tune into ESPN Radio at the office), but the smart, twirpy Mike (not the goofy, chubby Mike) was really making a fuss over this, using the ol’ "journalistic restraint" card ("Now, I’m just asking the questions; I’m not accusing Baseball of lying here . . .") so heavily that he sort of threw his weight toward "big story."
Mike & Mike had on assignment reporter Mark Schwartz (insert "Space Balls" joke . . . now), who broke (?) the story that analysis of the subpoenaed documents delivered by MLB to Congress might indicate that the new steroids policy lacks the teeth it was advertised to have. Specifically, instead of a 10-day suspension (and de facto outing) on a first offense, the possibility exists that there exists the option of the suspension or a $10,000 fine (presumably a hush-job).
Two possible implications emerge, if this is true:
1) Bud Selig---brace yourself now---misrepresented the contents of the new agreement publicly; or,
2) Bud Selig---again, get ready for a shock---is so incompetent that he and his negotiators cannot signed an agreement that had not been thoroughly scrutinized.
Or, third, congressman Davis is blowing smoke. That’s possible, too.
Anyway, I have no idea if this still is a story (haven't had a chance to tune into ESPN Radio at the office), but the smart, twirpy Mike (not the goofy, chubby Mike) was really making a fuss over this, using the ol’ "journalistic restraint" card ("Now, I’m just asking the questions; I’m not accusing Baseball of lying here . . .") so heavily that he sort of threw his weight toward "big story."
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Chat with King Barry!
Barry Svrluga of the Post is chatting at 1 pm
Submit a question if you can; considering everyone out there---Post colleagues, Times guys, Bill Ladson and MLB.com cohorts, Fla. Today fellas, the ombudsman of the Buttcrack (S.C.) Times, anybody---Barry's the best baseball writer out there even remotely associated or concerned with the Nats.
Submit a question if you can; considering everyone out there---Post colleagues, Times guys, Bill Ladson and MLB.com cohorts, Fla. Today fellas, the ombudsman of the Buttcrack (S.C.) Times, anybody---Barry's the best baseball writer out there even remotely associated or concerned with the Nats.
Televise this!
Boswell gives Counselor Asbestos a neat little Post-whacking
The life of a passionate sports fan is a strange one indeed. Some days you're hallucinating guys back onto your team's roster; others, you're righteously kicking the tar out of sniveling little pests.
From a certain point of view, and perhaps the only point of view that counts now, Boz just completely hits it out of the park in today's column. I mean, completely. Think of Jose Canseco's homer into like the third deck of the Skydome in the '89 ALCS---then double the distance. Yeah, that far.
The climax of the column is one of those inexorable "Duh!" moments; Boswell belittles Angelos' rhetoric so completely and so succintly, it reminds me of one of those times in all of our lives when we look back on a situation and ponder, "Now, why was this issue such a big deal again?" (Call it the "Titanic" Effect.) Take it away, Tom:
Three sentences. One-two-three; three-up, three-down; no runs, no hits (or drips), no errors. You get it? A dispositive paragraph framed in baseball's natural beauty; it is almost as if Spaldus, god of baseball, breathed his very essence into it.
Go get 'im, Tiger.
Now, I would be remiss not to quibble with one section of Boswell's column. It's not that a big deal (how could it possibly, after I've praised the column with such fine gloss?), but it is emblematic of a trait from which Boswell's work---like that of most columnists---suffers.
There are two sides presented in this column: that of Angelos (by reference to the ad in the Post), and that of MLB (via the overused "unnamed source" technique). Boswell, like most columnists, picks a side. He's picked MLB's side here, which is good, because Angelos' side is---at best---disingenuous and, well, un-American. ("Wah. Protect me from needing to compete. Give me what's not naturally mine.") But once he's picked a side, Boswell, like most columnists, trusts the side he's picked without exception.
Thus, he sounds a little too trusting here:
Now, Boswell (and the source) makes tremendous sense on a certain level: the claim made by Angelos is rather preposterous, it seems to me. At any rate, it has to be wrong.
On the other hand, how can Boswell trust this MLB source so completely? Well, the obvious answer is that the source's rhetoric, now, is compatible with Boz's sensibility on the issue.
But what about then?
It is plain as day that MLB dangled, used, abused, neglected, and mocked the DC market (and its people, including ostensibly Mr. Boswell) for years and years and years. DC was always a candidate but never the winner; not for expansion, not for relocation (thanks to a de facto "no relocation" policy)---only for blackmail of other cities. DC was more valuable to organized baseball as a threat, as a pawn, as a specter; call it what you want.
Boswell seemingly forgets that MLB helped cause this. Yep, MLB, in a sense, created the Angelos Problem. Sure, Angelos is a jerk, and jerks are naturally-occurring species. And you can't exactly blame MLB for not anticipating that Angelos would be such a monumental jerk. Then again, most baseball owners are jerks, some monumentally, and the last thing you do is imply to a jerk that it is okay to be a jerk. First, MLB toyed with a populous and rich market directly south of this particular jerk. Then, it said, "Okay, Jerk, we know you're a jerk, and we're willing to negotiate the cost of playing with fire in range of a jerk." The only was the direct cause of the other. MLB is partially complicit here. The jerk naturally will go that last measure.
That last measure, apparently, is television. Money quote from Marc Fisher's WaPo column today:
(emphasis added)
It's, oh, well, hey, it's the Ides of March. And where will the Nats be on the tube? Eh. On the cable grid? Er. Come to think of it, how's that sweet-ass radio network coming along, Tony Tavares? Oh.
Twenty thousand-plus season tickets say that Angelos can delay the media agreements but can't loosen the resolve of the fans. That's good. But it's not everything.
The commisioner's office is known for its proclivity to butt-cover and speak out of both sides of its mouth; just try to reconcile its positions (historical and present, present and present even) on steroids. The situation is no different here. The market it treated as a pawn in past years, it treats post facto as valued and treasured. The position is convenient and necessary now, but step back a minute; it should enrage Washingtonians, including Boswell.
Organized Baseball has let Angelos fester for long enough; it needs to act now. Pronto. Today has to work, but only because it didn't act yesterday. It only makes sense to do so, insofar as it owns the Nats currently.
Maybe Boswell has been enlisted as a solider in the fight against Angelos. If so, he may be excused for the convenience of his rhetoric.
The life of a passionate sports fan is a strange one indeed. Some days you're hallucinating guys back onto your team's roster; others, you're righteously kicking the tar out of sniveling little pests.
From a certain point of view, and perhaps the only point of view that counts now, Boz just completely hits it out of the park in today's column. I mean, completely. Think of Jose Canseco's homer into like the third deck of the Skydome in the '89 ALCS---then double the distance. Yeah, that far.
The climax of the column is one of those inexorable "Duh!" moments; Boswell belittles Angelos' rhetoric so completely and so succintly, it reminds me of one of those times in all of our lives when we look back on a situation and ponder, "Now, why was this issue such a big deal again?" (Call it the "Titanic" Effect.) Take it away, Tom:
The real reason Angelos had to pay a record price for the Orioles had nothing to do with Washington TV rights. Angelos must think that
everybody has amnesia. Camden Yards was opened in '92 and drew a million more people than the Orioles had ever attracted. Angelos paid a premium price because he was purchasing a proven gold mine.
Three sentences. One-two-three; three-up, three-down; no runs, no hits (or drips), no errors. You get it? A dispositive paragraph framed in baseball's natural beauty; it is almost as if Spaldus, god of baseball, breathed his very essence into it.
Go get 'im, Tiger.
Now, I would be remiss not to quibble with one section of Boswell's column. It's not that a big deal (how could it possibly, after I've praised the column with such fine gloss?), but it is emblematic of a trait from which Boswell's work---like that of most columnists---suffers.
There are two sides presented in this column: that of Angelos (by reference to the ad in the Post), and that of MLB (via the overused "unnamed source" technique). Boswell, like most columnists, picks a side. He's picked MLB's side here, which is good, because Angelos' side is---at best---disingenuous and, well, un-American. ("Wah. Protect me from needing to compete. Give me what's not naturally mine.") But once he's picked a side, Boswell, like most columnists, trusts the side he's picked without exception.
Thus, he sounds a little too trusting here:
"Peter has got this all twisted around in his mind," said the team president. "No one ever promised that Washington territory to the Orioles forever. He's confusing de facto exclusivity -- because there happened not to be any team in Washington for so long -- with real exclusivity.
"It was always 'Buyer beware' in that Baltimore market," added the executive. "Look at all the times baseball considered Washington for an
expansion team. We were flying our expansion committee people over RFK Stadium in a helicopter to evaluate it as a site." It's going to be hard -- no, it's going to be impossible -- for Angelos to convince any court that baseball
considered, on several occasions, putting an expansion team in a market where the Orioles already had exclusive TV rights.
Now, Boswell (and the source) makes tremendous sense on a certain level: the claim made by Angelos is rather preposterous, it seems to me. At any rate, it has to be wrong.
On the other hand, how can Boswell trust this MLB source so completely? Well, the obvious answer is that the source's rhetoric, now, is compatible with Boz's sensibility on the issue.
But what about then?
It is plain as day that MLB dangled, used, abused, neglected, and mocked the DC market (and its people, including ostensibly Mr. Boswell) for years and years and years. DC was always a candidate but never the winner; not for expansion, not for relocation (thanks to a de facto "no relocation" policy)---only for blackmail of other cities. DC was more valuable to organized baseball as a threat, as a pawn, as a specter; call it what you want.
Boswell seemingly forgets that MLB helped cause this. Yep, MLB, in a sense, created the Angelos Problem. Sure, Angelos is a jerk, and jerks are naturally-occurring species. And you can't exactly blame MLB for not anticipating that Angelos would be such a monumental jerk. Then again, most baseball owners are jerks, some monumentally, and the last thing you do is imply to a jerk that it is okay to be a jerk. First, MLB toyed with a populous and rich market directly south of this particular jerk. Then, it said, "Okay, Jerk, we know you're a jerk, and we're willing to negotiate the cost of playing with fire in range of a jerk." The only was the direct cause of the other. MLB is partially complicit here. The jerk naturally will go that last measure.
That last measure, apparently, is television. Money quote from Marc Fisher's WaPo column today:
Baseball executives say Angelos has two goals. One is to take a disproportionate share of profits from the Nationals, who already appear to be outperforming the Orioles at the box office (and maybe even on the playing field). If he can't accomplish that, sprinkle a little hell around greater Washington by keeping the Nats off TV and undermining efforts to build the team's fan base.
(emphasis added)
It's, oh, well, hey, it's the Ides of March. And where will the Nats be on the tube? Eh. On the cable grid? Er. Come to think of it, how's that sweet-ass radio network coming along, Tony Tavares? Oh.
Twenty thousand-plus season tickets say that Angelos can delay the media agreements but can't loosen the resolve of the fans. That's good. But it's not everything.
The commisioner's office is known for its proclivity to butt-cover and speak out of both sides of its mouth; just try to reconcile its positions (historical and present, present and present even) on steroids. The situation is no different here. The market it treated as a pawn in past years, it treats post facto as valued and treasured. The position is convenient and necessary now, but step back a minute; it should enrage Washingtonians, including Boswell.
Organized Baseball has let Angelos fester for long enough; it needs to act now. Pronto. Today has to work, but only because it didn't act yesterday. It only makes sense to do so, insofar as it owns the Nats currently.
Maybe Boswell has been enlisted as a solider in the fight against Angelos. If so, he may be excused for the convenience of his rhetoric.
Monday, March 14, 2005
On the field, off the field
Just a little Monday morning (well, early-afternoon) LOOGYing
On the field:
---Uh oh---Jose Vidro hypextended his right elbow. (He's day-to-day, so Brendan Harris's big break must come another time, I guess.)
---Hey, hey, Esteban L-O-I-A-Z-A! He pitched pretty well again (five innings, two runs, no walks and four strikeouts). Details in the article linked directly above.
---By bye, Endy? Maybe so; see Capitol Punishment for all the breathless details of "EndyWatch" (as well as a good, serious analysis of where we go from here).
---BMOC. Jon Rauch, the 6-foot-11 up-and-comer in Nats camp, is pushing for the final rotation spot. Consider the linked article the yang to Saturday's ying concerning incumbent Zach Day's spring troubles so far.
Off the field:
---I'm in the Post. Well, quoted that is---as are some Nats fan-clubbers. (My quotes are on the second page of the linked article.) Thanks to David Fahrenthold for contacting me and making sense of whatever I said when he interviewed over the phone; I was really looped on a powerful antibiotic and a decongestant at the time. Anyway, it's a nice article on the Nats in the video game world. (I'm not a big gamer, by the way; thus, I think it's entirely my fault that Nick Johnson is stinking up the joint in my league.) I must disagree with Chad Cordero (see second page), though: "RBI Baseball," at best, rates a distant third to "Baseball Stars" and "Bases Loaded" among late 80s Nintendo baseball titles.
---Hail to the buff, hail to the blue! GW wins its first A-10 tourney title, is set up against recently-hot Georgia Tech in Music City. This is pretty big for a GW alum; it's been six years since the last appearance by the Colonials in the Big Dance (and that was a humiliating loss to Indiana). Expect an "On being a GW basketball fan" post before Friday's first round (and, likely, only round) game. Read it if you care.
---Hey, how 'bout that . . . There's another steroid probe goin' on; insofar as it involves an NFL team, though, I guess no one really cares right now.*
---William World News takes a look at the Nats caps, as compared to the caps of other "new" teams. Conclusion: Not bad; not bad at all.
---Long live Barry Svrluga! Barry's back bloggin'; we learn that Brad Wilkerson is a big bracketologist---albeit one with split loyalties.
* Linked article might not work. Try here, too: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/other_sports/us_sport/4347777.stm
On the field:
---Uh oh---Jose Vidro hypextended his right elbow. (He's day-to-day, so Brendan Harris's big break must come another time, I guess.)
---Hey, hey, Esteban L-O-I-A-Z-A! He pitched pretty well again (five innings, two runs, no walks and four strikeouts). Details in the article linked directly above.
---By bye, Endy? Maybe so; see Capitol Punishment for all the breathless details of "EndyWatch" (as well as a good, serious analysis of where we go from here).
---BMOC. Jon Rauch, the 6-foot-11 up-and-comer in Nats camp, is pushing for the final rotation spot. Consider the linked article the yang to Saturday's ying concerning incumbent Zach Day's spring troubles so far.
Off the field:
---I'm in the Post. Well, quoted that is---as are some Nats fan-clubbers. (My quotes are on the second page of the linked article.) Thanks to David Fahrenthold for contacting me and making sense of whatever I said when he interviewed over the phone; I was really looped on a powerful antibiotic and a decongestant at the time. Anyway, it's a nice article on the Nats in the video game world. (I'm not a big gamer, by the way; thus, I think it's entirely my fault that Nick Johnson is stinking up the joint in my league.) I must disagree with Chad Cordero (see second page), though: "RBI Baseball," at best, rates a distant third to "Baseball Stars" and "Bases Loaded" among late 80s Nintendo baseball titles.
---Hail to the buff, hail to the blue! GW wins its first A-10 tourney title, is set up against recently-hot Georgia Tech in Music City. This is pretty big for a GW alum; it's been six years since the last appearance by the Colonials in the Big Dance (and that was a humiliating loss to Indiana). Expect an "On being a GW basketball fan" post before Friday's first round (and, likely, only round) game. Read it if you care.
---Hey, how 'bout that . . . There's another steroid probe goin' on; insofar as it involves an NFL team, though, I guess no one really cares right now.*
---William World News takes a look at the Nats caps, as compared to the caps of other "new" teams. Conclusion: Not bad; not bad at all.
---Long live Barry Svrluga! Barry's back bloggin'; we learn that Brad Wilkerson is a big bracketologist---albeit one with split loyalties.
* Linked article might not work. Try here, too: http://news.bbc.co.uk/sport1/hi/other_sports/us_sport/4347777.stm
Life imitates "art" (loosely defined)
Everything I need to know about the Orioles/Nats "negotiation", I learned in "Die Hard"
Starring!!!
* Peter Angelos as "Hans Gruber"!!! (deceptive but essentially overconfident scam artist/terrorist with no defining principles except "Hey, I want money").
* Bud Selig as "Deputy Chief of Police Dwayne T. Robinson"!!! (boorish, completely inept strategist and negotiator). [Also, in a bit role is Bob DuPuy as "Idiot SWAT Team Guy" (mistakes dedicated machine-gunning of huge spotlights as "panic fire" and completely bungles a two-pronged invasion of the Nakatomi building).]
* All Nationals fans as "Holly Gennero McClane"!!! (innocent person trapped as hostage on 30th floor of LA high-rise on Christmas Eve).
It's not perfect---there's no John McClane to save the day, apparently---but it's the best I can do at the moment. I'm running out of words on the subject, and I'm beginning to displace my dislike of Angelos on the Orioles in general. Meh; just another customer lost, right? All Angelos cares about is geographic scope outside of Bal'mer, not actual people now, I suppose.
For a more sophisticated take, see Ballwonk.
Starring!!!
* Peter Angelos as "Hans Gruber"!!! (deceptive but essentially overconfident scam artist/terrorist with no defining principles except "Hey, I want money").
* Bud Selig as "Deputy Chief of Police Dwayne T. Robinson"!!! (boorish, completely inept strategist and negotiator). [Also, in a bit role is Bob DuPuy as "Idiot SWAT Team Guy" (mistakes dedicated machine-gunning of huge spotlights as "panic fire" and completely bungles a two-pronged invasion of the Nakatomi building).]
* All Nationals fans as "Holly Gennero McClane"!!! (innocent person trapped as hostage on 30th floor of LA high-rise on Christmas Eve).
It's not perfect---there's no John McClane to save the day, apparently---but it's the best I can do at the moment. I'm running out of words on the subject, and I'm beginning to displace my dislike of Angelos on the Orioles in general. Meh; just another customer lost, right? All Angelos cares about is geographic scope outside of Bal'mer, not actual people now, I suppose.
For a more sophisticated take, see Ballwonk.
Saturday, March 12, 2005
The Day after
Memo to Zack Day: You're only as good as your last start
Or even your last two, as Day was shaky in his exhibition opener. Yesterday, he descended to "putrid," allowing six runs (three earned) in two innings. He surrended long flies to David Eckstein and So Taguchi back-to-back to start the second inning.
The Post headline ("Tumbling Into Limbo") sounds like a failed sitcom title, but Dave Sheinin's article attempts to match the image. (Well, the process is actually the reverse, but never mind.) The angle Sheinin takes:
Quotations from Frank Robinson paint Day's status as extremely dire:
Frankly (eh, no pun intended), I do not at all understand Robinson's use of the introductory clause "Especially coming off last year . . . " Sure, Day's won/lost record was 5-10, but it's not like he stunk the joint up. The 3.93 ERA was fine---second among Expos' starters after LIVAN!---and he posted a respectable 105 ERA+. He's pitched 285 innings in his big league career and has a fine 113 ERA+ to show for it. This is not to say that Day is a sure thing for continued effectiveness; he really needs to up the strikeout rate a bit, for one. Nevertheless, it's borderline ridiculous to cite a pitcher's won/lost record as support that he needs to improve, when the guy in fact was the most limply supported starting pitcher in the game last year (2.47 runs per game). Jeez, guys, scrutinize The Great Loaiza instead.
Interestingly, Ken Wright provides a rather different angle in the Wash. Times . Wright mentions near the end of his story that Day's job is not completely secure (Robinson: We're going to make decisions at the right time, and that's down the road a little ways."), but focuses largely on Day's frustrations with his own performance and adds a bit of a not-an-excuse-but-a-reason element to the mix:
I've noted my opinion previously that the Post's spring training coverage has been deeper, more reasoned, and more sophisticated than that of the Times so far. But that opinion is mainly a reflective of Barry Svrluga's excellent work; Sheinin strikes me as having a more superficial understanding of the game. At any rate, perhaps Sheinin has an accurate take of Robinson's feelings, or perhaps he was duped into believing a motivational technique. Make no mistake, however, that it is a Times writer who provides the needed bit of perspective:
And now the Times is on the Godwin beat. It's a more recent article, written after Godwin enjoyed some success at the plate against the Cardinals (the same game that Day got slaughtered), and Mark Zuckerman is taking the "heat-is-on-Endy" angle. Nevertheless, both articles cite the opinion of one of the only guys whose opinion counts: Frank Robinson. And Robinson is, well, sternly sober about Godwin's odds.
---I devoted a bit of space to the story of one Mike Vechery recently, although I didn't really know much of the story; if anyone's interested in a full treatment of the story, DCRTV Dave links to a DC City Paper article on the subject. (I'd like to the actual article, but the URL is longer than Dkembe Mutombo's full name, so my chances of a successful link would be slim, considering my struggles with MLB.com links.) I'm glad Mr. Vechery's story has been presented by a fairly prominent source; it is an unfortunate yet fascinating one.
---Is there a pitching analog to the Bill James saw concerning "old players' skills"? I have no clue, but this guy takes a look at it from the perspective of the Royals' youngster, Zach Greinke:
An interesting thought (although I'm not exactly sure if it's not a wordier way of saying, "Golly, his stuff isn't all that great."). And my boss is a huge Royals' fan, so I guess I better touch up on my Greinke.
(Credit to Baseball Primer for the link.)
---The Sports Law Blog is providing rather extensive coverage of the issues related to the congressional 'roids hearing. Recommended reading.
---Welcome back to Chris from Capitol Punishment. The "Shooting Dead Horses; Beating Fish In A Barrell" post contains some wonderful, dripping, Inning-Endy-related sarcasm and, as an added bonus, sort of slams Dave Sheinin.
---The Eucalyptus blog provides one of the neatest Nats-related running features: birthdays for former Washington baseball players. The March 10th edition amazingly references three guys who had cups of DC coffee in the 1920s---even more amazingly, two guys debuted (and did nothing else) within a week of each other. As Mel Allen used to say, "How about that?"
---Finally, guess where I'll be on April 16th? Why, Section 518, I do believe. (Might not sound like much to you actual Washingtonians, but I am a giddy Richmonder at the moment. As Buzz Aldrin knows, second comes right after first.)
Or even your last two, as Day was shaky in his exhibition opener. Yesterday, he descended to "putrid," allowing six runs (three earned) in two innings. He surrended long flies to David Eckstein and So Taguchi back-to-back to start the second inning.
The Post headline ("Tumbling Into Limbo") sounds like a failed sitcom title, but Dave Sheinin's article attempts to match the image. (Well, the process is actually the reverse, but never mind.) The angle Sheinin takes:
With John Patterson and Jon Rauch making increasingly strong cases for themselves this spring, Day, 26, needed a strong outing against the St. Louis Cardinals to retain what is seen as a slim lead in the fifth-starter battle. Instead, his performance suggested whatever lead he might have had is now gone.
Quotations from Frank Robinson paint Day's status as extremely dire:
"Nothing is solid around here. I don't mean that as a threat," said Manager Frank Robinson when asked about Day's status in the rotation. "Especially coming off last year [when Day was 5-10 with a 3.93 ERA], he's got to come down here and perform. Have I taken him out of that spot? No. But still, it's not a lock. We have some other guys who are throwing the ball better right now."
Frankly (eh, no pun intended), I do not at all understand Robinson's use of the introductory clause "Especially coming off last year . . . " Sure, Day's won/lost record was 5-10, but it's not like he stunk the joint up. The 3.93 ERA was fine---second among Expos' starters after LIVAN!---and he posted a respectable 105 ERA+. He's pitched 285 innings in his big league career and has a fine 113 ERA+ to show for it. This is not to say that Day is a sure thing for continued effectiveness; he really needs to up the strikeout rate a bit, for one. Nevertheless, it's borderline ridiculous to cite a pitcher's won/lost record as support that he needs to improve, when the guy in fact was the most limply supported starting pitcher in the game last year (2.47 runs per game). Jeez, guys, scrutinize The Great Loaiza instead.
Interestingly, Ken Wright provides a rather different angle in the Wash. Times . Wright mentions near the end of his story that Day's job is not completely secure (Robinson: We're going to make decisions at the right time, and that's down the road a little ways."), but focuses largely on Day's frustrations with his own performance and adds a bit of a not-an-excuse-but-a-reason element to the mix:
This was the first time backup catcher Gary Bennett has caught Day. Early in the game, Day came off the mound to make sure he and Bennett had their signs straight. Apparently, they did not. "He put down a slider, and I don't have a slider," Day said. "I've never thrown to him before, so it's kind of new for me.
I've noted my opinion previously that the Post's spring training coverage has been deeper, more reasoned, and more sophisticated than that of the Times so far. But that opinion is mainly a reflective of Barry Svrluga's excellent work; Sheinin strikes me as having a more superficial understanding of the game. At any rate, perhaps Sheinin has an accurate take of Robinson's feelings, or perhaps he was duped into believing a motivational technique. Make no mistake, however, that it is a Times writer who provides the needed bit of perspective:
Although it's risky to read too much into a bad -- or good -- exhibition outing,---I'm a bit late to the party here, but Tyrell Godwin has been getting some attention lately. On Thursday, Barry Svrluga did a nice profile, focusing mainly on his path to professional baseball (the valedictorian of his high school class, Godwin passed up a combined $3.1 million in bonus money from the Yankees and Rangers to get his degree from North Carolina, where he injured his knee playing football). Godwin seems like a neat guy, and Svrluga's article motivates me to root for him. But Svrluga's article is also sober as to Godwin's prospects of making the team as a Rule V draftee from the Blue Jays, and Godwin could only manage a .253/.326/.355 batting line (with 110 strikeouts) as a 24/25 year-old in his second season at Double-A. Thus, I'd say "sobriety" is the operative word here.
. . .
And now the Times is on the Godwin beat. It's a more recent article, written after Godwin enjoyed some success at the plate against the Cardinals (the same game that Day got slaughtered), and Mark Zuckerman is taking the "heat-is-on-Endy" angle. Nevertheless, both articles cite the opinion of one of the only guys whose opinion counts: Frank Robinson. And Robinson is, well, sternly sober about Godwin's odds.
---I devoted a bit of space to the story of one Mike Vechery recently, although I didn't really know much of the story; if anyone's interested in a full treatment of the story, DCRTV Dave links to a DC City Paper article on the subject. (I'd like to the actual article, but the URL is longer than Dkembe Mutombo's full name, so my chances of a successful link would be slim, considering my struggles with MLB.com links.) I'm glad Mr. Vechery's story has been presented by a fairly prominent source; it is an unfortunate yet fascinating one.
---Is there a pitching analog to the Bill James saw concerning "old players' skills"? I have no clue, but this guy takes a look at it from the perspective of the Royals' youngster, Zach Greinke:
While this is not a perfect analogy by any means (essentially because "old-pitcher skills" are not negative as are some "old-hitter skills") I think what Greinke has in abundance are “old-pitcher skills”. The ability to locate his pitches and change speeds are skills that one normally finds in crafty veteran pitchers who have had to adjust to declining physical skills or injuries. Pitchers like Frank Tanana, who became an off-speed pitcher after being loaded with innings early in his career, come to mind. What Greinke does not possess are skills which include velocity, movement, and an “out” pitch. These
are the kinds of skills that often get young pitchers promoted in the hopes that they’ll develop control and “learn how to pitch”. By all accounts Greinke has already learned to pitch to a large degree and so his ceiling is not as high as a pitcher with comparable statistics who got the job done with a nasty slider and a 98 mile per hour fastball.
So in short, I’m not saying that Greinke won’t be even better in 2005. Indeed, his skills should serve to make him a much more consistent pitcher in the long run, a fact that PECOTA captured in its assessment that he has a 0% chance of collapse (along with his few innings at a young age, and no injury history). However, I am speculating that he is closer to his maximum performance at his young age than some people might think. Only time will tell of course.
An interesting thought (although I'm not exactly sure if it's not a wordier way of saying, "Golly, his stuff isn't all that great."). And my boss is a huge Royals' fan, so I guess I better touch up on my Greinke.
(Credit to Baseball Primer for the link.)
---The Sports Law Blog is providing rather extensive coverage of the issues related to the congressional 'roids hearing. Recommended reading.
---Welcome back to Chris from Capitol Punishment. The "Shooting Dead Horses; Beating Fish In A Barrell" post contains some wonderful, dripping, Inning-Endy-related sarcasm and, as an added bonus, sort of slams Dave Sheinin.
---The Eucalyptus blog provides one of the neatest Nats-related running features: birthdays for former Washington baseball players. The March 10th edition amazingly references three guys who had cups of DC coffee in the 1920s---even more amazingly, two guys debuted (and did nothing else) within a week of each other. As Mel Allen used to say, "How about that?"
---Finally, guess where I'll be on April 16th? Why, Section 518, I do believe. (Might not sound like much to you actual Washingtonians, but I am a giddy Richmonder at the moment. As Buzz Aldrin knows, second comes right after first.)
Friday, March 11, 2005
Friday check swings
Third base ump says no swing
---Dave Sheinin is still bloggin' away in Viera. Amazingly, he hijacks breaking the news of Hector Carrasco's one-car accident into a mistful vignette of Cal Ripken, Jr.'s 3000th career safety:
Just more fuel to the fire, baby.
Oh, and Carrasco's pretty much okay, too.
---To paraphrase the Don Cheadle/Luis Guzman double-team in "Traffic," Francis Beltran is effed. No, no---he's EFFED! (See the sub-blurbs of both stories for all the grisly, James Andrews-related details.)
---Only a team owned by the incompetent boobs collectively known as Major League Baseball would find itself in the position of trying to lock up its general manager, . . . for this season.
---The big Sports Illustrated story on the Nats is in this week's issue, I guess; no cover, although I suppose it was the "cover story." (That's an exceedingly hard determination to make these days, because SI's gone from just "Letters" and "Faces in the Crowd" at the beginning to an entire sub-magazine for the first 40 pages.) I can't find the article on SI's website---no longer called "cnnsi.com," apparently---but I'll try to summarize:
1. Frank Robinson is the manager.
2. Robinson was a really good player.
3. Robinson was a victim of racism when he played; so was his late friend and teammate, Vada Pinson.
4. Because of point (3) above, Robinson harbors a lot of resentment toward the late Bill DeWitt, former owner/GM of the Reds, who traded Robinson in the prime of his career.
5. But Robinson doesn't resent Bill DeWitt, Jr., current Cardinals' owner.
6. DeWitt Jr. is a good friend of President Bush 43.
7. Robinson had dinner with President Bush 43.
8. President Bush 43 likes baseball, and so does George Will.
9. Robinson also knows George Will.
10. When not managing the Nats, Robinson plans on playing lots of golf and visiting DC inner-city schools.
Yeah, the article meanders quite a bit. It's a nice tribute to Robinson, but it was positively all-conference in name dropping. It spends more time exploring racism than it does looking at the team, or even Robinson's contribution to it. (There is a sidebar story on Jose Guillen.)
The article also includes a strangely phrased sentence beginning "If the Nationals make money this year . . ." Yo, unless the Nats are televised on local access in Aurora, Ill. (admittedly, a distinct possibility at this point), they'll turn a profit. Look at the payroll; then consider "20,000+ season tickets." (Well, I guess they might not be credited with making a profit by MLB, who is to accounting as that guy with the moustache from "Sleeping With The Enemy" was to husbanding.)
---Jeff, the District of Baseball guy, is down in Viera. Expect some good pictures.
---Ryan has the scoop on Will Carroll's big break. Suffice it to say, the Tri-Counties will never be the same again.
---Congratulations to William World News on hitting the one-year mark.
---Dave Sheinin is still bloggin' away in Viera. Amazingly, he hijacks breaking the news of Hector Carrasco's one-car accident into a mistful vignette of Cal Ripken, Jr.'s 3000th career safety:
(Hector Carrasco, incidentally, is unlikely to make this team, but you might recall him as the pitcher who, in 2001 as a member of the Minnesota Twins, gave up Cal Ripken's 3,000th hit. I remember it well. Cal was three hits away from 3,000 going into that game at the Metrodome, so none of us
were prepared for the possibility that this particular night would be the night. But then Cal got hits in his first two at-bats, and we began to scramble into action, alerting the folks in charge of the A1 page that this was a possibility. The 3,000th hit itself was a skanky little fist-job up the middle. As I recall, my story was equally skanky.)
Just more fuel to the fire, baby.
Oh, and Carrasco's pretty much okay, too.
---To paraphrase the Don Cheadle/Luis Guzman double-team in "Traffic," Francis Beltran is effed. No, no---he's EFFED! (See the sub-blurbs of both stories for all the grisly, James Andrews-related details.)
---Only a team owned by the incompetent boobs collectively known as Major League Baseball would find itself in the position of trying to lock up its general manager, . . . for this season.
---The big Sports Illustrated story on the Nats is in this week's issue, I guess; no cover, although I suppose it was the "cover story." (That's an exceedingly hard determination to make these days, because SI's gone from just "Letters" and "Faces in the Crowd" at the beginning to an entire sub-magazine for the first 40 pages.) I can't find the article on SI's website---no longer called "cnnsi.com," apparently---but I'll try to summarize:
1. Frank Robinson is the manager.
2. Robinson was a really good player.
3. Robinson was a victim of racism when he played; so was his late friend and teammate, Vada Pinson.
4. Because of point (3) above, Robinson harbors a lot of resentment toward the late Bill DeWitt, former owner/GM of the Reds, who traded Robinson in the prime of his career.
5. But Robinson doesn't resent Bill DeWitt, Jr., current Cardinals' owner.
6. DeWitt Jr. is a good friend of President Bush 43.
7. Robinson had dinner with President Bush 43.
8. President Bush 43 likes baseball, and so does George Will.
9. Robinson also knows George Will.
10. When not managing the Nats, Robinson plans on playing lots of golf and visiting DC inner-city schools.
Yeah, the article meanders quite a bit. It's a nice tribute to Robinson, but it was positively all-conference in name dropping. It spends more time exploring racism than it does looking at the team, or even Robinson's contribution to it. (There is a sidebar story on Jose Guillen.)
The article also includes a strangely phrased sentence beginning "If the Nationals make money this year . . ." Yo, unless the Nats are televised on local access in Aurora, Ill. (admittedly, a distinct possibility at this point), they'll turn a profit. Look at the payroll; then consider "20,000+ season tickets." (Well, I guess they might not be credited with making a profit by MLB, who is to accounting as that guy with the moustache from "Sleeping With The Enemy" was to husbanding.)
---Jeff, the District of Baseball guy, is down in Viera. Expect some good pictures.
---Ryan has the scoop on Will Carroll's big break. Suffice it to say, the Tri-Counties will never be the same again.
---Congratulations to William World News on hitting the one-year mark.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Wooing Boz
WaPo columnist giddy over chance at .500 record
Which is just another way of saying he's giddy over just having a team in Washington, of course. (Who else would write so passionately about a team that, if things go right, could merely break even?) Still, he put together a fairly interesting case. I'm not sure if it's any more substantive than the rest of his Nats stuff so far, but it's presented a little better, at least.
As the headline implies, here's his formula for success (well, mediocrity):
PITCHING
"Few teams have a rotation with four starters who've had a 12-win season in the last three years. The Nats do." [Note: I'm not even sure I want to look into how "few" teams there are with that distinction. As one posted on Baseball Primer pointed out, the Cards have five guys in their rotation, all of whom won at least 15 games LAST SEASON. ]
---plus---
BETTER HITTING
"Getting to .750 [note: apparently the OPS break-even-point for a decent offense; I hadn't realized this, specifically for OPS], which is still below average, shouldn't be hard because such players fall out of trees. Bowden appears to have done it." [Then Boz goes into the list of players acquired, plus the holdovers.]
---plus---
TEAM CHEMISTRY
"The Nationals lack superstar talent and depth. What they have is a lot of solid to very good players who get along extremely well -- out of necessity." [Vagabond losing builds togetherness.]
---equal---
GOOD THINGS (e.g., a .500 record)
Stunningly original.
Still, I smiled when I read the column---and not in a snarky, blogging way. It might be because I had just read this post over at "U.S.S. Mariner" (via Baseball Primer), which observes that "a common criticism of blogs is that they focus too much on the negative, particularly as regards local media." It might be because Boz---who was once, well, not really at the cutting edge of baseball analysis, but he was an important mainstream voice in the '80s---is entering a phase where he, so to speak, ascends the attic stairs and happily discovers the dusty box of records of his younger days. It might be because, deep down, I like nice thoughts.
Or it might be because he's right.
Well, it's possible, and "possible" is what spring training is all about. (And when you shoot for .500, "possible" is usually a tough word to dismiss out of hand.)
Which is just another way of saying he's giddy over just having a team in Washington, of course. (Who else would write so passionately about a team that, if things go right, could merely break even?) Still, he put together a fairly interesting case. I'm not sure if it's any more substantive than the rest of his Nats stuff so far, but it's presented a little better, at least.
As the headline implies, here's his formula for success (well, mediocrity):
PITCHING
"Few teams have a rotation with four starters who've had a 12-win season in the last three years. The Nats do." [Note: I'm not even sure I want to look into how "few" teams there are with that distinction. As one posted on Baseball Primer pointed out, the Cards have five guys in their rotation, all of whom won at least 15 games LAST SEASON. ]
---plus---
BETTER HITTING
"Getting to .750 [note: apparently the OPS break-even-point for a decent offense; I hadn't realized this, specifically for OPS], which is still below average, shouldn't be hard because such players fall out of trees. Bowden appears to have done it." [Then Boz goes into the list of players acquired, plus the holdovers.]
---plus---
TEAM CHEMISTRY
"The Nationals lack superstar talent and depth. What they have is a lot of solid to very good players who get along extremely well -- out of necessity." [Vagabond losing builds togetherness.]
---equal---
GOOD THINGS (e.g., a .500 record)
Stunningly original.
Still, I smiled when I read the column---and not in a snarky, blogging way. It might be because I had just read this post over at "U.S.S. Mariner" (via Baseball Primer), which observes that "a common criticism of blogs is that they focus too much on the negative, particularly as regards local media." It might be because Boz---who was once, well, not really at the cutting edge of baseball analysis, but he was an important mainstream voice in the '80s---is entering a phase where he, so to speak, ascends the attic stairs and happily discovers the dusty box of records of his younger days. It might be because, deep down, I like nice thoughts.
Or it might be because he's right.
Well, it's possible, and "possible" is what spring training is all about. (And when you shoot for .500, "possible" is usually a tough word to dismiss out of hand.)
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
"Your call is very important to us . . ."
Well, I made the call
I called the O's a little later than I intended; I got rear-ended on the way to work this morning, so I arrived late and a bit out of sorts, at that. But I did call.
I thought it would be a nice twist if I identified myself as a long-time O's fan (which is true) and laid out that, while I will root/root/root for the Nats, I still plan to support the O's as well (which is also true).
Response: "Your call is very important to us, and . . . "
I missed the rest, to be honest. Oh well.
---Speaking of which, DCRTV Dave is on the case; talks are apparently "taking place." Also, DCRTV's mailbag has the text of a letter Marion "***** set me up" Barry wrote to Dissemblor, a/k/a Bud Selig. It's a good letter, to be honest; here's a portion:
I called the O's a little later than I intended; I got rear-ended on the way to work this morning, so I arrived late and a bit out of sorts, at that. But I did call.
I thought it would be a nice twist if I identified myself as a long-time O's fan (which is true) and laid out that, while I will root/root/root for the Nats, I still plan to support the O's as well (which is also true).
Response: "Your call is very important to us, and . . . "
I missed the rest, to be honest. Oh well.
---Speaking of which, DCRTV Dave is on the case; talks are apparently "taking place." Also, DCRTV's mailbag has the text of a letter Marion "***** set me up" Barry wrote to Dissemblor, a/k/a Bud Selig. It's a good letter, to be honest; here's a portion:
I am writing to express my profound amazement regarding Major League Baseball's negotiations involving the television broadcast rights for the
Washington Nationals. I am advised that Major League Baseball (MLB) is still considering an undisclosed deal to transfer the television broadcast rights to Baltimore Orioles' owner Peter Angelos. If this is true, it would mean that MLB endorses transferring tens of millions of dollars out of the District, weakening our new baseball franchise, and in all likelihood increasing what direct broadcast satellite (DBS) and cable TV viewers have to pay to watch the Nationals' games. Mr. Angelos and the Orioles have benefited for decades from Washington's fan base and television viewing audience. [. . .] You have insisted that taxpayers should bear the burden and risk of a new $600 million stadium, yet at the same time you are empowering Mr. Angelos to take away a tool that is essential to the new team's financial viability. In the free-agent era, no team can succeed if it has to, in effect, transfer tens of millions of dollars a year to a neighboring team. [. . .] In my judgment, enough is enough. Washington D.C. and its baseball team should be treated like every other MLB city. The Nationals should control their own TV rights the way every other team does. There is no reason that MLB should force D.C. taxpayers and the new team to put its financial health on the injured reserve list just to satisfy the protests of a neighboring team owner who never wanted baseball in the Washington D.C. area to begin with. Sincerely, Marion Barry, Councilmember, Ward 8
Can a leopard change its racing stripes?
Pardon the lame, "Wheel of Fortune"-esque, before-and-after mixed metaphor; or, "Hey, let's pile on Endy Chavez"
Blame Dave Sheinin of the Washington Post; he's the scab at Barry Svrluga's "Nats Journal" while Svrluga writes the definitive history of Panera Bread, or something.
Sheinin, after spending approximately 1,267 paragraphs saying essentially, "Hey, it's cool to be blogging," provides some quotes from Frank Robinson on Endy Chavez---who is, according to Sheinin (per his Post chat yesterday), the only "pure leadoff hitter" on the Nats, whatever that means.
Specifically, the quotes focused on Endy's OBP, patience at the plate (or lack thereof), etc. A representative sample:
. . . and . . .
Can it be done? Can Endy become a reliable (read: on base regularly) lead-off man?
Well, as an initial measure, perhaps I should echo George Costanza's desultory evaluation:
But Endy doesn't need to be "this, that, and the other"; he just needs to be a lead-off guy. So, can it be done?
Well, frankly, I'm at lunch. This is a one-hour analysis; take it or leave it. I'm not spending three nights poring through Total Baseball or an online database trying to find an inspiring comp or two. Instead, I'm going to take a look at Endy's Top 10 comps through the age of 26 and see if we can find signs of optimism. Not exhaustive enough for you? Try writing Bill James.
Okay, here's Endy + his comps (through their age 26 seasons), expressed in terms of OBP and what I guess is called "Isolated Patience" (just like Isolated Power, except substitute OBP for SLG):
Endy: .303 OBP, .39 Isolated Patience
Comp 1 (J. Allensworth): .341; .78
2 (E. Cabell): .297; .45)
3 (H. Jeffcoat): .300; .38
4 (J. Beniquez): .322; .55
5 (S. Finley): .316; .45
6 (W. Williams): .308; .42
7 (T. Holmes): .343; .51
8 (J. Delahanty): .317; 51
9 (J. Walton): .324; .66
10 (M. Wilson): .316; .53
Well, that was fun. Two notes that are obvious, but should be mentioned:
1) The comps are based on "Similarity Scores," which of course take more into account than OBP and (AVG - OBP).
2) Endy's comps cut across eras, from Delahanty's ("dead ball") to Finley's ("steroids"---er, "high offense"), so comparisons must be contextualized. (I'm just joking, of course. Finley's mid-late-90s power surge is rather interesting, but I'm not accusing him of steroid use.)
That said, Delahanty and Finley aside, these guys either didn't develop appreciably more patience at the plate (or, rather, declined; check out Mookie Wilson's 1989 season, one of my favorites of all baseball history) or didn't stick around long enough to show that they could.
So, no, I'm not saying "It can't be done," Jerry. But I am saying that the players most similar to Endy at his current age (concededly, based on what may not be faultless criteria) overwhelmingly don't provide much more support for the proposition that he can be a killer on-base machine---or even meet Robinson's standards. Disturbingly enough, Endy's best OBP/"Isolated Patience" comp is actually Hal Jeffcoat, who was such an awesome hitter that he switched to pitching mid-career.
Of course, some of these guys had lengthy major league careers. But, as to the question of "learning" to become more patient at the plate, I'll have to be directed elsewhere to see it. Consequently, my advice to Endy is to work on slap-hitting his way to some .320 seasons.
Or else maybe he should work on his breaking ball.
Blame Dave Sheinin of the Washington Post; he's the scab at Barry Svrluga's "Nats Journal" while Svrluga writes the definitive history of Panera Bread, or something.
Sheinin, after spending approximately 1,267 paragraphs saying essentially, "Hey, it's cool to be blogging," provides some quotes from Frank Robinson on Endy Chavez---who is, according to Sheinin (per his Post chat yesterday), the only "pure leadoff hitter" on the Nats, whatever that means.
Specifically, the quotes focused on Endy's OBP, patience at the plate (or lack thereof), etc. A representative sample:
On whether a player can learn to be selective at the plate: "It is something that some guys are born with. But you can learn it. I think it comes from experience and having confidence in your own skills and abilities. That's why you see a lot of guys who swing early in the count all the time, because they don't feel confident that they can hit the pitches they're going to see with two strikes. You see some guys come up and take a strike, because they
have confidence in their skills to hit with two strikes. It can be taught, but
it's easier if you bring it to the table in the first place."
. . . and . . .
I asked Frank if it was reasonable to expect Chavez to have a .350 or better on-base average after hovering around .300 thus far in his career. "I want him higher than that," Robinson said. "I want him around .380. I don't want it to be realistic. I don't want it to be easy for him. But I want to give him something to think about. He knows he really has to work at it to be
able to achieve that." [stuff on 100 runs scored snipped]
Can it be done? Can Endy become a reliable (read: on base regularly) lead-off man?
Well, as an initial measure, perhaps I should echo George Costanza's desultory evaluation:
"Where are you living? Are you here? Are you on this planet? It's impossible. It can't be done. Thousands of years people have been trying to have their cake and eat it too. So all of a sudden the two of you are going to come along and do it. Where do you get the ego? No one can do it. It can't be done."
But Endy doesn't need to be "this, that, and the other"; he just needs to be a lead-off guy. So, can it be done?
Well, frankly, I'm at lunch. This is a one-hour analysis; take it or leave it. I'm not spending three nights poring through Total Baseball or an online database trying to find an inspiring comp or two. Instead, I'm going to take a look at Endy's Top 10 comps through the age of 26 and see if we can find signs of optimism. Not exhaustive enough for you? Try writing Bill James.
Okay, here's Endy + his comps (through their age 26 seasons), expressed in terms of OBP and what I guess is called "Isolated Patience" (just like Isolated Power, except substitute OBP for SLG):
Endy: .303 OBP, .39 Isolated Patience
Comp 1 (J. Allensworth): .341; .78
2 (E. Cabell): .297; .45)
3 (H. Jeffcoat): .300; .38
4 (J. Beniquez): .322; .55
5 (S. Finley): .316; .45
6 (W. Williams): .308; .42
7 (T. Holmes): .343; .51
8 (J. Delahanty): .317; 51
9 (J. Walton): .324; .66
10 (M. Wilson): .316; .53
Well, that was fun. Two notes that are obvious, but should be mentioned:
1) The comps are based on "Similarity Scores," which of course take more into account than OBP and (AVG - OBP).
2) Endy's comps cut across eras, from Delahanty's ("dead ball") to Finley's ("steroids"---er, "high offense"), so comparisons must be contextualized. (I'm just joking, of course. Finley's mid-late-90s power surge is rather interesting, but I'm not accusing him of steroid use.)
That said, Delahanty and Finley aside, these guys either didn't develop appreciably more patience at the plate (or, rather, declined; check out Mookie Wilson's 1989 season, one of my favorites of all baseball history) or didn't stick around long enough to show that they could.
So, no, I'm not saying "It can't be done," Jerry. But I am saying that the players most similar to Endy at his current age (concededly, based on what may not be faultless criteria) overwhelmingly don't provide much more support for the proposition that he can be a killer on-base machine---or even meet Robinson's standards. Disturbingly enough, Endy's best OBP/"Isolated Patience" comp is actually Hal Jeffcoat, who was such an awesome hitter that he switched to pitching mid-career.
Of course, some of these guys had lengthy major league careers. But, as to the question of "learning" to become more patient at the plate, I'll have to be directed elsewhere to see it. Consequently, my advice to Endy is to work on slap-hitting his way to some .320 seasons.
Or else maybe he should work on his breaking ball.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
And all the people say amen
Preach it, Post.
The previous post---the Sledge/BP post---got eaten up; well, its first version did. It was much longer. (Go figure.) In addition, it linked to this WaPo editorial, which is required reading for anyone who cares about the Nats, televised baseball, or just MLB in general.
Along those same lines, William World News (it just dawned on me that he's "WFY"---although I'm almost ashamed to admit it) is calling of us out to turn the temperature up on everyone involved, including our buddy Petros in Bal'mer:
I'm a bit skeptical as to how effective this campaign would be, but---as the cute little kid from those "People PC" commercials during the 2000 election cycle would say---"There's strength in numbers, my friends." And it indeed is a worthy call.
I've got my call calendared for 8:20 tomorrow morning.
The previous post---the Sledge/BP post---got eaten up; well, its first version did. It was much longer. (Go figure.) In addition, it linked to this WaPo editorial, which is required reading for anyone who cares about the Nats, televised baseball, or just MLB in general.
Along those same lines, William World News (it just dawned on me that he's "WFY"---although I'm almost ashamed to admit it) is calling of us out to turn the temperature up on everyone involved, including our buddy Petros in Bal'mer:
You may have seen earlier today that I am renewing Jim Williams' call to contact the Orioles and ask Peter Angelo$ to stop obstructing a television deal for the Nationals. I just did my part, being polite of course, though I do not think the fellow on the other end appreciated the call, but he listened to me, which I appreciated.My fellow bloggers, I ask that you also use your sites to incite others to heed this noble call. If someone out there wants to put together a script for us to use, so much the better. There must be some campaign veterans out there who can chip in. Remember, the main number is (410) 685-9800. They are open 8 to 5 daily. Don't forget to be nice, even though it is hard. Let me know how it goes, too.
I'm a bit skeptical as to how effective this campaign would be, but---as the cute little kid from those "People PC" commercials during the 2000 election cycle would say---"There's strength in numbers, my friends." And it indeed is a worthy call.
I've got my call calendared for 8:20 tomorrow morning.
Barry Svrluga: Cutting to the chase
Sledge: Yes? No? Maybe so?
There's not a whole lot to talk about other than, at least in terms of the roster and the lineup, Terrmel Sledge; he's the fulcrum, so to speak. If he's playing, then Endy might be sitting. If he's playing, then Nick Johnson might be traded. If he's not playing, then it might be because he's been traded.
Barry Svrluga nips the thing in the bud and gets down to the real issue here: what of Sledge?
Jim Bowden's reply is curious, to say the least:
If a guy like Sledge doesn't come along often, then by all means don't trade him; why is Bowden even thinking about it, then?
I guess the obvious answer is that he's got a history of saying such things and making such stands. Or Bowden is trying to puff up Sledge's trade value. Your call.
---Nats Blog brings it hard to the hoop today, concerning the "Barry Bonds" entry in the 2005 edition of Baseball Prospectus. Although I haven't gotten the book yet, the relevant portion is excerpted, and the blog entry is a very good read. I especially like the point with regard to "moral outrage."
---More Prospectus!!!. According to Steve Goldman's chat (see link), the BP boys are finishing up a look at the 2004 Red Sox, with a special emphasis on the team's management. It is tentatively called "Excuse me, Theo: How About Employing Us, Too?" Or "Mind Game." Whatever.
And, Ryan, there's no word yet as to Dayn Perry's involvement.
There's not a whole lot to talk about other than, at least in terms of the roster and the lineup, Terrmel Sledge; he's the fulcrum, so to speak. If he's playing, then Endy might be sitting. If he's playing, then Nick Johnson might be traded. If he's not playing, then it might be because he's been traded.
Barry Svrluga nips the thing in the bud and gets down to the real issue here: what of Sledge?
So while there are questions about whether he'll start and where he'll play, the most significant uncertainty about Terrmel Sledge continues to be: On Opening Day, will he be a Washington National?
Jim Bowden's reply is curious, to say the least:
"It'd be real hard for me to trade a guy like him," Nationals General Manager Jim Bowden said Monday, "because they don't come often."
If a guy like Sledge doesn't come along often, then by all means don't trade him; why is Bowden even thinking about it, then?
I guess the obvious answer is that he's got a history of saying such things and making such stands. Or Bowden is trying to puff up Sledge's trade value. Your call.
---Nats Blog brings it hard to the hoop today, concerning the "Barry Bonds" entry in the 2005 edition of Baseball Prospectus. Although I haven't gotten the book yet, the relevant portion is excerpted, and the blog entry is a very good read. I especially like the point with regard to "moral outrage."
---More Prospectus!!!. According to Steve Goldman's chat (see link), the BP boys are finishing up a look at the 2004 Red Sox, with a special emphasis on the team's management. It is tentatively called "Excuse me, Theo: How About Employing Us, Too?" Or "Mind Game." Whatever.
And, Ryan, there's no word yet as to Dayn Perry's involvement.
I've got your team chemistry right here for ya, pal
Scott Brown of Florida Today discusses the power of team chemistry---a concept so influential, apparently, that it can rewrite history
I shouldn't be too hard on Florida Today; after all, it is a publication from beyond the DC area that considers the Nats relevant. That counts for something.
Still, fact-checking isn't all that hard these days; Baseball Reference is only a click away.
Anyway, here we go: Brown discusses the importance of every baseball fan's favorite amorphous talking point, "team chemistry." He interviews a number of former players, including Cecil Cooper and one Gary Gaetti:
I imagine I'm not the only one who can spot the glaring error here. That's right, sports fans---Gaetti didn't play for the '91 Twins. Instead, he bolted for the Los Angeles/California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim after the '90 season and promptly established himself as a member of the Collusion Money Free Agency All-Bust Team.
In retrospect, Gaetti is a fairly strange guy to comment on team chemistry, anyway. I recall reading magazine articles from about 1989, when Gaetti became a born-again Christian, positing that Gaetti's conversion killed the Twins' chemistry, or at least strained the clubhouse (or, at a minimum, left the clubhouse much less "fun," to use Gaetti's word, than it had been before). It's not my place, obviously, to comment on a charge like that, but it is well-known that Gaetti's relationship with the other Twins stars from the '87 champions was certainly different by the time he left the team. Since I'd assume---I'd hope---that Gaetti is not expressing regret over his conversion, even granting that he probably did not misrepresent his championship credentials, he's recalling things rather selectively.
In addition, and I know that this is a comparatively minor point, according to Gaetti his champion Twins were a chemistry-driven, no-name bunch. Well, I can't quibble that television coverage has exploded since he was in Minnesota, but he massively understates the star power that team had. Gaetti himself, at the time, belonged to a class of third baseman---at least popularly---that was just below Wade Boggs, a lingering George Brett, and the recent memory of Mike Schmidt (moved to first, then retired in May '89). Frank Viola had established himself as a top pitcher and won the Cy Young Award in 1988 (right after being the World Series MVP). Bert Blyleven was near the end of a (should-be) Hall of Fame career. Jeff Reardon was a top closer. Kent Hrbek, while never the superstar he was prophesied to be in 1984, was considered a top offensive first baseman. Tom Brunansky was something of a minor star, and so was Tom Herr, who was acquired in early '88 for Brunansky.
And we haven't even mentioned Kirby Puckett, one of the most popular superstars of the era.
So, while Gaetti is generally correct that the Twins had relatively few selected all-stars, the '87 team wasn't made up of eager unknowns, and in fact, the team received tremendous "delayed recognition" the following season, represented by five all-stars.
In other words, this article, at least in how it relates to Gaetti, is hooey.
But that's emblematic of "team chemistry" discussions, isn't it? I'm not saying such a thing doesn't exist---how could I possibly?---but it's funny that an article that stresses its importance is built in large part on either flawed memories or faulty fact-checking. In other words, the concept suffers from post-hoc rationalizations and "make it up as we go along" revisionist history.
I shouldn't be too hard on Florida Today; after all, it is a publication from beyond the DC area that considers the Nats relevant. That counts for something.
Still, fact-checking isn't all that hard these days; Baseball Reference is only a click away.
Anyway, here we go: Brown discusses the importance of every baseball fan's favorite amorphous talking point, "team chemistry." He interviews a number of former players, including Cecil Cooper and one Gary Gaetti:
Houston hitting coach Gary Gaetti can cite two examples of a team playing well on the field because the players got along so well off it. In 1987 and in 1991, the Minnesota Twins won the World Series even though they didn’t have near the starpower of the teams they beat on the way to the championships. The Twins did have one advantage over other clubs. “We had other teams come in and say ‘Man you guys just have a lot of fun, don’t you?’ That definitely translates into the on-the-field stuff,” said Gaetti, a two-time All-Star who played third base on those Twins teams. “There wasn’t much emphasis on stats. We didn’t have all the television coverage and that kind of stuff. We’d have one All-Star because we had to have one.”
I imagine I'm not the only one who can spot the glaring error here. That's right, sports fans---Gaetti didn't play for the '91 Twins. Instead, he bolted for the Los Angeles/California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim after the '90 season and promptly established himself as a member of the Collusion Money Free Agency All-Bust Team.
In retrospect, Gaetti is a fairly strange guy to comment on team chemistry, anyway. I recall reading magazine articles from about 1989, when Gaetti became a born-again Christian, positing that Gaetti's conversion killed the Twins' chemistry, or at least strained the clubhouse (or, at a minimum, left the clubhouse much less "fun," to use Gaetti's word, than it had been before). It's not my place, obviously, to comment on a charge like that, but it is well-known that Gaetti's relationship with the other Twins stars from the '87 champions was certainly different by the time he left the team. Since I'd assume---I'd hope---that Gaetti is not expressing regret over his conversion, even granting that he probably did not misrepresent his championship credentials, he's recalling things rather selectively.
In addition, and I know that this is a comparatively minor point, according to Gaetti his champion Twins were a chemistry-driven, no-name bunch. Well, I can't quibble that television coverage has exploded since he was in Minnesota, but he massively understates the star power that team had. Gaetti himself, at the time, belonged to a class of third baseman---at least popularly---that was just below Wade Boggs, a lingering George Brett, and the recent memory of Mike Schmidt (moved to first, then retired in May '89). Frank Viola had established himself as a top pitcher and won the Cy Young Award in 1988 (right after being the World Series MVP). Bert Blyleven was near the end of a (should-be) Hall of Fame career. Jeff Reardon was a top closer. Kent Hrbek, while never the superstar he was prophesied to be in 1984, was considered a top offensive first baseman. Tom Brunansky was something of a minor star, and so was Tom Herr, who was acquired in early '88 for Brunansky.
And we haven't even mentioned Kirby Puckett, one of the most popular superstars of the era.
So, while Gaetti is generally correct that the Twins had relatively few selected all-stars, the '87 team wasn't made up of eager unknowns, and in fact, the team received tremendous "delayed recognition" the following season, represented by five all-stars.
In other words, this article, at least in how it relates to Gaetti, is hooey.
But that's emblematic of "team chemistry" discussions, isn't it? I'm not saying such a thing doesn't exist---how could I possibly?---but it's funny that an article that stresses its importance is built in large part on either flawed memories or faulty fact-checking. In other words, the concept suffers from post-hoc rationalizations and "make it up as we go along" revisionist history.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Many small notes = one post
Scouting around . . .
---Mad props to fellow Midlothian, VA, native Rich Tandler, whose letter was published in the "Sunday Punch" section of the Richmond Times-Dispatch. You can find it on this page; in a nutshell, Rich seeks more Nats coverage in the Times-Disgrace. Sounds good. I've noticed a couple of AP/wire service articles picked up since spring training began, but nothing much. By comparison, the paper devoted a good deal of space to the Sosa trade, and at least a couple of columnists have commented on the A-Braves this spring.
---But, wouldn't you know, there was a columnist who devoted space to the Nats in this morning's local paper. Of course, it was like ten words or less, and it was derisive. From the grumpy Jerry Lindquist's media column:
1. Hey, that was kind of a cheap shot, man. (And, when you've played 104 road games in each of the last two seasons, then, at the very least, a stable home must be considered "bright.")
2. It's Dan Shulman, putz. And he's the best in the business.
---Ryan from Distinguished Senators tries out "Logic by Gammons":
Gammons' column is here. Of course, compare it to the stuff here and, honestly, see if you can the difference.
---The Baseball Savant republishes an article he did for Baseball Primer a few seasons ago concerning competitive balance in the "wildcard era." It's one of those "what would have happened" analyses---similar to one done by Baseball Prospectus around that time, too---that retrofitted post-1994 (and especially post-'96/Yankees) results and grafted said results into a pre-'94 (and pre-'69) context. In The Savant's case, he went above and beyond actual won/lost records or even straight-up Pythagorean records; you can find his methodology in the article, which he's updated in a forward to the article.
First of all, I completely agree with the following sentiment:
I think the one thing the "wildcard era" (or, as I call it, expanded divisional era) has killed is the concept of the "respectable season." It just doesn't exist anymore; it's wild card-or-bust, and for those teams with "no shot" at the playoffs at the outset, there seems to be little joy in the little successes that seemingly used to sustain a six-month season. The current state of affairs serves to contradict one of Bill James' best lines (from the 1995 Player Ratings Book, if I remember correctly, concerning Jeff Fassero): "Every season is a revelation, every success a surprise."
Second, it is interesting that, while we all know that the 2000 season is one of the greatest con jobs every (with the Yankees winning the World Series despite the fifth-best record in the American League), the Yankees also (at least according to The Savant's methodology) got jobbed in '97---although the fans were the ones who really got cheated, being deprived of a great three-team race.
Anyway, it's an interesting read, even three years later.
---Between the lines, Mike Hinckley got the holy hell beaten out of him yesterday. There was an outside---and I mean OUTSIDE---shot Hinckley could break camp as the fifth starter, but from the tone of the WaTi article, that isn't going to happen. What happened yesterday? Well, I guess Hinckley should have pitched casually:
---According to the WaPo, both Alex Escobar and Ryan Church want to make the team. Go figure. Considering Church has an option left, he's probably in the Mike Hinckley Zone. The article also contains a classic Jim Bowden quote:
I swear, Bowden can do anything, including compel a major league hitter to swat a line drive on command during batting practice.
---R.I.P., Chuck Thompson..
---Mad props to fellow Midlothian, VA, native Rich Tandler, whose letter was published in the "Sunday Punch" section of the Richmond Times-Dispatch. You can find it on this page; in a nutshell, Rich seeks more Nats coverage in the Times-Disgrace. Sounds good. I've noticed a couple of AP/wire service articles picked up since spring training began, but nothing much. By comparison, the paper devoted a good deal of space to the Sosa trade, and at least a couple of columnists have commented on the A-Braves this spring.
---But, wouldn't you know, there was a columnist who devoted space to the Nats in this morning's local paper. Of course, it was like ten words or less, and it was derisive. From the grumpy Jerry Lindquist's media column:
What was ESPN's Dan Schulman on last week, introducing the Mets-Nationals spring training game with: "Two teams with bright outlooks
heading into 2005."
1. Hey, that was kind of a cheap shot, man. (And, when you've played 104 road games in each of the last two seasons, then, at the very least, a stable home must be considered "bright.")
2. It's Dan Shulman, putz. And he's the best in the business.
---Ryan from Distinguished Senators tries out "Logic by Gammons":
Houston is after a center fielder, but they don't have a good hitter to give up. So instead, they're going to trade for a good hitter from Washington, who wants a good hitter in return. Unless Gammons is suggested a three-way trade, with Houston getting Cameron, the Mets getting Sledge and maybe
Chavez, and us getting a bopper. So, in the parlance of the multiple-choice
test, D) Cannot answer based on information given.
Gammons' column is here. Of course, compare it to the stuff here and, honestly, see if you can the difference.
---The Baseball Savant republishes an article he did for Baseball Primer a few seasons ago concerning competitive balance in the "wildcard era." It's one of those "what would have happened" analyses---similar to one done by Baseball Prospectus around that time, too---that retrofitted post-1994 (and especially post-'96/Yankees) results and grafted said results into a pre-'94 (and pre-'69) context. In The Savant's case, he went above and beyond actual won/lost records or even straight-up Pythagorean records; you can find his methodology in the article, which he's updated in a forward to the article.
First of all, I completely agree with the following sentiment:
I am 26 years old so I do not remember what is was like to have only one division in each league, but I think that it had to be the best of times in baseball because it proved just how far superior MLB was to the other major sports of football, basketball, and hockey. The regular season meant something in baseball. Teams had to go to work day in and day out to secure their shot at a world championship and there was not any coasting into the
playoffs without being the best team in the league.
I think the one thing the "wildcard era" (or, as I call it, expanded divisional era) has killed is the concept of the "respectable season." It just doesn't exist anymore; it's wild card-or-bust, and for those teams with "no shot" at the playoffs at the outset, there seems to be little joy in the little successes that seemingly used to sustain a six-month season. The current state of affairs serves to contradict one of Bill James' best lines (from the 1995 Player Ratings Book, if I remember correctly, concerning Jeff Fassero): "Every season is a revelation, every success a surprise."
Second, it is interesting that, while we all know that the 2000 season is one of the greatest con jobs every (with the Yankees winning the World Series despite the fifth-best record in the American League), the Yankees also (at least according to The Savant's methodology) got jobbed in '97---although the fans were the ones who really got cheated, being deprived of a great three-team race.
Anyway, it's an interesting read, even three years later.
---Between the lines, Mike Hinckley got the holy hell beaten out of him yesterday. There was an outside---and I mean OUTSIDE---shot Hinckley could break camp as the fifth starter, but from the tone of the WaTi article, that isn't going to happen. What happened yesterday? Well, I guess Hinckley should have pitched casually:
"To tell you the truth, I think he's trying to do too much," said pitching coach Randy St. Claire, who watched yesterday's game while the rest of the staff stayed in Viera for Washington's other game against the Houston Astros. "He's trying to impress too much and not just doing what he can
do. "He comes into camp thinking he's got a chance, and he's just trying to sell it too hard. He needs to relax and let it happen for him. He's got a good arm; he just needs to use it."
---According to the WaPo, both Alex Escobar and Ryan Church want to make the team. Go figure. Considering Church has an option left, he's probably in the Mike Hinckley Zone. The article also contains a classic Jim Bowden quote:
Ryan Church was next, and after he lofted a fly ball to the outfield, Bowden said quietly: "Line drives, now. Let's go." Church sent the next pitch screaming to right-center field. "That's it," Bowden said.
I swear, Bowden can do anything, including compel a major league hitter to swat a line drive on command during batting practice.
---R.I.P., Chuck Thompson..
Urgent correspondence
March 5: "A media deal 'not imminent,' sources say."
Allan "Bud" Selig
Office of the Commissioner, Major League Baseball
350 Park Avenue, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10022
March 7, 2005
Dear Mr. Selig:
I know you are not reading this.
However, it is my belief---based on years of careful observation---that you are in fact not human; instead, you are an alien named Dissemblor from the planet Remulac Seven.
You came to our late, great planet Earth almost four decades ago, assuming the bodily form of---of all people---a used-car salesman from Milwaukee. You have been charged by your species with staging an occuption of our planet by weakening American intellectual resolve. To that end, you have essentially killed the National Pastime and instead inflicted upon us a generation of gambling degenerates, paving the way for the dominance of the National Football League. Our minds now such vacuous jello that we find pondering Fred Smoot's "cap number" a fascinating exercise, we face a perilous age where NASCAR---the sport of "watching people drive cars"---is poised to ascend even farther in popularity. While not all of your machinations have resulted in success---thank goodness the "Bass Masters" craze never caught on five years ago, for instance---I will concede that "televised poker" is a masterstroke. ("Look, some idiot in sunglasses just owned some Thai guy! Awesome!") Nevertheless, I am on to you. And because your kind is as talented in telepathy as you personally are in dissembling, you know that I know, you know?
Okay, down to business: While you usually defer such matters to your lackey earthling, Bob DuPuy, your own little Captain Byron Hadley, you might have noticed that Washington, DC, has a baseball team. In that you had previous snuffed out a veritable clamoring for a team there, thus depriving the Nation's Capitol a stake in the grand American game while bestowing the honor upon such hot-to-trot markets as Phoenix and Tampa (Bay), your acquiescence is a bit strange and signals to me either that:
a) you are employing a diversionary tactic; or,
b) some bit of humanity has been absorbed in one of your nine biological hearts.
If it is the latter, please indulge me while I make an appeal to sentiment: PLEASE PUT THIS TEAM ON THE TELEVISION.
You see---and the concept may still be foreign to you, so to speak---regional media revenue is rather important to a baseball team. By definition, a team cannot derive any regional television revenue if it is not allowed to enter into an agreement with a carrier. Currently, you are "negotiating" with Peter Angelos, owner of the Baltimore Orioles. Negotiations---or whatever these talks are that your butt buddy DuPuy is having with Angelos---are fine in December and January. But things get a little more urgent in, oh, March.
Now, I'm one of those weird souls who is perfectly happy with rooting for both teams; I assume no strange, para-social "hate" of cities that are not my own (actually, neither is my hometown, though I did live in DC for several years and may again in the future, I suppose). I'd like to see both teams succeed. And while I sympathize with the geographical plight of the Orioles---hemmed in by DC about 40 miles to the south and Philly not much farther to the north---as our earthling saying goes, them's the breaks.
Consequently, my advice---my plea---is that you do something soon. Delay is not an option at this point; in fact, delay is exactly why we are in this little quagmire. You see, last week, Washington Post sportswriter Dave Sheinen---accused of being in the pocket of Angelos by many fans of the Nats---commented that Angelos is still "seething" that the Nats are positioned "right next to his doorstep." This comment invoked the ire of a poster at a Nats internet board, who retorted:
Well, considering in most states the statute of limitations for adverse possession is 15-20 years, that's kind of the problem. In your desire to kill baseball, you let baseball sleep on its rights to Washington, DC. Every time you "considered" DC as an expansion or relocation option, it was all talk, and everyone knew it; you were just trying to extort a stadium out of other places. In the interim, Angelos and previous (better) Orioles' owners snuck in the property, erected a few rickety farmhouses (WTOP radio---though that one keeled over, and its replacement, WTEM-AM, is little more than a cardboard box. Local television. Some space in the Post and less space in the Wash. Times. A pathetic merchandise store.). Now, nothing he planted on the land really grew all that much (as a result, there's little avidity for the O's in the District), and now that Organized Baseball's back, he's trying to fence whatever property he can. Truth be told, from his perspective, this is shrewd business and fairly reasonable. "Get what you can, while you can."
So, assuming you really care about our best interests as fans (and especially of those who live in the DC media market), those are the stakes. Let's work from here.
Here's a plan: Give Angelos a sop; after all, by rights, he should benefit to an extent based on your lack of vigilance toward (read: disrespect for) the DC market. Angelos has no real claim on DC proper or land to the south of it; let him broadcast there for all he wants (it's a free country, or at least, it should be---though, of course, not in the un-American cartel you conveniently inherited), but ensure him compensation for those areas closer to Baltimore in which he might have legitimate interest. Set a Mazzilli/Robinson Line somewhere to the north of the DC Beltway, calculate roughly what media revenue that area would generate, and then give him a stake in that revenue. Maybe, if you want, throw in a marginal percentage of the revenue from anything south of there, but not much. THEN MAKE HIM SIGN THE DEAL. It's not like he's got a bunch of owner-buddies rallying to his cause, you know.
Remember, you can't sit on this; otherwise, you might hem in the Nats with no secondary markets. The Nats should have the right to compete for the interest of Richmond, Norfolk, Raleigh, Greensboro, and Charlotte---among others---but they can't when you won't even green-light a TV deal in their own market.
You're the trustee of this team right now; don't kill it before it has a chance.
Or is that actually your plan, Dissemblor?
Allan "Bud" Selig
Office of the Commissioner, Major League Baseball
350 Park Avenue, 17th Floor
New York, NY 10022
March 7, 2005
Dear Mr. Selig:
I know you are not reading this.
However, it is my belief---based on years of careful observation---that you are in fact not human; instead, you are an alien named Dissemblor from the planet Remulac Seven.
You came to our late, great planet Earth almost four decades ago, assuming the bodily form of---of all people---a used-car salesman from Milwaukee. You have been charged by your species with staging an occuption of our planet by weakening American intellectual resolve. To that end, you have essentially killed the National Pastime and instead inflicted upon us a generation of gambling degenerates, paving the way for the dominance of the National Football League. Our minds now such vacuous jello that we find pondering Fred Smoot's "cap number" a fascinating exercise, we face a perilous age where NASCAR---the sport of "watching people drive cars"---is poised to ascend even farther in popularity. While not all of your machinations have resulted in success---thank goodness the "Bass Masters" craze never caught on five years ago, for instance---I will concede that "televised poker" is a masterstroke. ("Look, some idiot in sunglasses just owned some Thai guy! Awesome!") Nevertheless, I am on to you. And because your kind is as talented in telepathy as you personally are in dissembling, you know that I know, you know?
Okay, down to business: While you usually defer such matters to your lackey earthling, Bob DuPuy, your own little Captain Byron Hadley, you might have noticed that Washington, DC, has a baseball team. In that you had previous snuffed out a veritable clamoring for a team there, thus depriving the Nation's Capitol a stake in the grand American game while bestowing the honor upon such hot-to-trot markets as Phoenix and Tampa (Bay), your acquiescence is a bit strange and signals to me either that:
a) you are employing a diversionary tactic; or,
b) some bit of humanity has been absorbed in one of your nine biological hearts.
If it is the latter, please indulge me while I make an appeal to sentiment: PLEASE PUT THIS TEAM ON THE TELEVISION.
You see---and the concept may still be foreign to you, so to speak---regional media revenue is rather important to a baseball team. By definition, a team cannot derive any regional television revenue if it is not allowed to enter into an agreement with a carrier. Currently, you are "negotiating" with Peter Angelos, owner of the Baltimore Orioles. Negotiations---or whatever these talks are that your butt buddy DuPuy is having with Angelos---are fine in December and January. But things get a little more urgent in, oh, March.
Now, I'm one of those weird souls who is perfectly happy with rooting for both teams; I assume no strange, para-social "hate" of cities that are not my own (actually, neither is my hometown, though I did live in DC for several years and may again in the future, I suppose). I'd like to see both teams succeed. And while I sympathize with the geographical plight of the Orioles---hemmed in by DC about 40 miles to the south and Philly not much farther to the north---as our earthling saying goes, them's the breaks.
Consequently, my advice---my plea---is that you do something soon. Delay is not an option at this point; in fact, delay is exactly why we are in this little quagmire. You see, last week, Washington Post sportswriter Dave Sheinen---accused of being in the pocket of Angelos by many fans of the Nats---commented that Angelos is still "seething" that the Nats are positioned "right next to his doorstep." This comment invoked the ire of a poster at a Nats internet board, who retorted:
"No, the Orioles have been trespassing for 34 years!"
Well, considering in most states the statute of limitations for adverse possession is 15-20 years, that's kind of the problem. In your desire to kill baseball, you let baseball sleep on its rights to Washington, DC. Every time you "considered" DC as an expansion or relocation option, it was all talk, and everyone knew it; you were just trying to extort a stadium out of other places. In the interim, Angelos and previous (better) Orioles' owners snuck in the property, erected a few rickety farmhouses (WTOP radio---though that one keeled over, and its replacement, WTEM-AM, is little more than a cardboard box. Local television. Some space in the Post and less space in the Wash. Times. A pathetic merchandise store.). Now, nothing he planted on the land really grew all that much (as a result, there's little avidity for the O's in the District), and now that Organized Baseball's back, he's trying to fence whatever property he can. Truth be told, from his perspective, this is shrewd business and fairly reasonable. "Get what you can, while you can."
So, assuming you really care about our best interests as fans (and especially of those who live in the DC media market), those are the stakes. Let's work from here.
Here's a plan: Give Angelos a sop; after all, by rights, he should benefit to an extent based on your lack of vigilance toward (read: disrespect for) the DC market. Angelos has no real claim on DC proper or land to the south of it; let him broadcast there for all he wants (it's a free country, or at least, it should be---though, of course, not in the un-American cartel you conveniently inherited), but ensure him compensation for those areas closer to Baltimore in which he might have legitimate interest. Set a Mazzilli/Robinson Line somewhere to the north of the DC Beltway, calculate roughly what media revenue that area would generate, and then give him a stake in that revenue. Maybe, if you want, throw in a marginal percentage of the revenue from anything south of there, but not much. THEN MAKE HIM SIGN THE DEAL. It's not like he's got a bunch of owner-buddies rallying to his cause, you know.
Remember, you can't sit on this; otherwise, you might hem in the Nats with no secondary markets. The Nats should have the right to compete for the interest of Richmond, Norfolk, Raleigh, Greensboro, and Charlotte---among others---but they can't when you won't even green-light a TV deal in their own market.
You're the trustee of this team right now; don't kill it before it has a chance.
Or is that actually your plan, Dissemblor?
Saturday, March 05, 2005
Fred Manfra has a really nice voice . . .
. . . but Buck Martinez doesn't---and other comments from "Nats/O's I"
First Inning
* Either Fort Lauderdale has been completely eclipsed by one of those Mother Ships from "Independence Day," or Comcast SportsNet is having technical difficulties. Considering the mother ships are from a fictional movie and CcSn has technical difficulties every hour on the hour, I'm betting on the latter.
* Daniel Cabrera is really, really tall. He's got electric stuff (whatever that actually means . . .), but unless he drastically improves on his 2004 MLB strikeout-to-walk ratio (89/76), he's going to have trouble staying in Baltimore's rotation.
* Fancy Fred and Boring Buck pay some attention to Jose Guillen's anger management, which must gratify Ryan. They clearly know very little about the Nats, though, and in that sense I can tell the telecast is going to be a disappointment. I am interested in the O's (concededly, unlike many fans of our new Nats), and I haven't paid much attention to them this spring, so it's good to catch up a bit on that beat. Thus, I don't mind the O's focus, because I'll watch O's games on TV, and besides---MORE BASEBALL = GOOD THING. However, you're not going to learn much about the Nats in this game, I suspect.
* In the bottom of the inning, Fancy Fred is completely deked by a Miguel Tejada fly ball; Manfra thought it was gone off the bat, when in fact Tejada caught off the end of the bat a bit. Hey, it's spring training for the announcers, too. (By the way, the Buckster now considers Tejada the best offensive shortstop in the game---especially, Manfra adds, with A-Rod at third base. What, they've never heard of Virtual Guzman?)
* LIVAN! looks a little stiff out of the box; he's fidgeting a bit, rotating his arm trying to get loose.
* Sosa, interestingly, is the fifth-place hitter. I thought he raised a stink in Chicago upon being displaced from the cleanup spot. I guess he's playing the good soldier for now. Sosa gets called out on one of those sloppy, slow curves that LIVAN! loves to throw. A bit of jabbering by Sosa; it was questionable.
Second Inning
* Sideline reporter Brent Harris---you can tell he's going to focus on O's-related sideline stuff---says the O's have "a shot to pressure the Sox and Yankees." Appropriately ambiguous; nice job, son.
* Has Sosa been ejected? He has! By the second base ump, C.B. Bucknor? Yep! Now the umps are conferring with Mazilli; Sosa is kind of steaming but not really hot, standing off to the side. The TV guys cut to a precious shot of Frank Robinson chuckling in the Nats' dugout. Buck Martinez, you can tell, wants to shout, "THIS IS RIDICULOUS! IT'S SPRING TRAINING, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" But he's restraining himself, and resorting to policy-based rationales for why Bucknor (and why the second base ump?) should have shown more restraint (e.g., "Hitters like Sosa need at-bats to get their timing down. That's what spring training is for."). Manfra called the suspect pitch "clearly high," which is strange, because if it missed, it missed inside. They shown another replay, and I think I'm right. Whatever, no big deal; it certainly wasn't an "Eric Gregg strike." Sosa, resigned to his fate, has now lightly tossed his glove in the direction of Bucknor's feet in---as Manfra noted---symbolic protest. Well, that was interesting.
* Nice double by Carlos Baerga, DHing today. The double represents 50% of last year's total, by the way.
* It's Brent Harris Time again, our very own Jim-Gray-on-the-scene. Harris informs us that a fan in the right field seats taunted Sosa, who turned to fire back a jibe; Bucknor told Sosa to focus on the game, and Sosa apparently gave Bucknor some lip. Well, there you go; makes sense. Harris also added that Sosa---in the short time he was actually eligible to play, i.e., his one at-bat---fouled a ball off that landed in the parking line off of right field---RIGHT ON SOSA'S OWN CAR. Oh, the humanity!
* The O's string a couple of hits off of LIVAN! , score on a SAC Fly or something (I stepped out for a sec), and it's 1-0, Baltimore.
Third Inning
* The Sosa controversy has died down, and this game has been exposed for the boring spring training game that it is. Cabrera is making the entire team look like Inning-Endies.
* LIVAN! isn't getting shredded, but he's leaving some balls up in the zone, and the O's add another run. It's 2-0 after three, and I suspect Cabrera and Hernandez are both done.
Fourth Inning
* Nothing of consequence happening and then .............................. talk about the Orioles offense, and then .............................. talk about the Orioles pitching. (Buck Martinez turns the general topic of "pitching uncertainty" on its head, asking, "How many camps have this kind of competition for the fifth spot?" He's referring to Eric DuBose, Bruce Chen (who's pitching pretty well currently), Matt Riley, and Kurt Ainsworth. Sounds to me like a team with four question marks battling for the fifth starter spot; sounds to me like probably 15-20 other major league teams.
Fifth Inning
* Uh .................................... uh ....................................................... Hey, Anthony Williams is signing autographs! Eh ................................ I think some guy is running his weed wacker right next to CcSn's on-field mics. There's this constant buzz filtering in the sound mix. Or maybe there's just some small planes flying above. Let me try to concentra ......................................................
Sixth Inning
* Hmmm .............................. er ..................... Wait a minute; Terrmel Sledge just blasted a homer to center off a young O's minor leaguer named Hayden Penn (pretty decent prospect). It's a two run shot, so it's tied, 2-2.
* Brad Wilkerson, first Nats star, just hit an absolute bomb to right for back-to-back jacks. If the stadium is northernly-oriented, the ball landed in my front yard; if it's southernly-oriented, then Fidel Castro just renewed his love for the National Pastime. Wilkerson hit the ball that far, I swear.
Seventh Inning
* Nats add another run on a sort of freaky play in the right field corner. It's now 4-2.
* Most impressive feature of MVP Baseball 2005? It captures completely accurately just how pudgy T.J. Tucker is in real life.
Eighth Inning
* Manfra and Martinez are back to the bread-and-butter: Sosa. They're discussing the parallels between 'Cago-to-Balto Sammy and Cincy-to-Balto Frank Robinson.
* Gary Majewski is having trouble. The O's load the bases, Sledge makes a nice catching running in on the ball, but throws home, allowing the other runners to advance a base. Not that it matters; Majewski eventually walks the bases loaded again, and Calvin Pickering---er, Walter Young---strides to the plate, Biggie Smalls style.
* A CcSn commercial break is a steady progression of McDonalds' commercials and "SportsNite" promos. None of those cheerily cheesy Eastern Auto spots, though.
* Hector Carrasco in. Young hits a "sun chopper" that gets over Rick Short's head. (The ball took a big, high hop off the plate, and Short lost the hop in the sun. Or perhaps Short is in cahoots with his old organization.) It's now 5-4, O's.
* CcSn just ran last year's stats line for "Hector Harrasco." He went 8-8, 5.57 in Japan, so I'm glad the Nats have Hector Carrasco instead. I'm not sure if Harrasco or Carrasco is out there right now; whoever it was, he was wild-as-hell with the first batter.
* Hector Whoever induces a lazy fly ball to left, and the threat is extinguished. ("Electric stuff," "extinguished threats"---I wonder if Abner Doubleday was a volunteer fire fighter.) I guess I'll have to stick around to see if the Spring Nats (i.e., if you're not keeping score, you have no idea who is still in) can mount a rally in the ninth.
Ninth Inning
* B.J. Ryan is on now; I guess the "Proven Closer"(tm) has to get his work in during the spring, too. (Actually, I suppose Ryan isn't "proven" yet. Whatever he is, he's Just Plain Awesome.) His first opponent is Nepotista Jared Sandberg, who draws a quick walk. (Speaking of Sandberg: You don't hear much about him in Nats' camp. I guess it's assumed he's headed for New Orleans, eh?)
* Jeffrey Hammonds follows Sandberg, and man does his bat look slow. He's late on Ryan's off-speed pitch, and then just gets absolutely blown away by a fastball.
* George Arias---I nominate "The Heretic" as his nickname, by the way---lines a shot the just barely avoids snow-cone status in the glove of proven winner Enrique Wilson at second. So, it's now first-and-second, one down. The 36 fans still in attendance are stirring, as is the O's bullpen. And now Ray Miller is coming out for a word; I think I just heard an octogenarian fan yell, "It's 4:08! I've got an early-bird dinner to get to!" Now the fans are on Joe West's case.
* And Gary Bennett, back-up catcher extraordinaire, does it! He knocks a single to left, and The Nepotista scampers in to tie it at five apiece.
* Rick Short, the guy blinded by the light ten minutes ago (but who also tripled in the fourth run in the seventh) can bust this game open with another gapper. Instead, he strikes out looking on a make-up call by West.
* Ian Desmond (whose name strangely seems more appropriate of an Australian swimmer, in my opinion) lashes a triple down the line to left. All three runners score. It's now 8-5, and Sledge bangs out an opposite-field single to score the swimmer and increase the lead to four here in the top of the ninth. Ryan's been pulled, and I think I'm going to rap this up. If the O's rally, I'll add the details.
Okay, so a debrief:
---It was one game, so let's not cheer too much or overly lament some poor performances.
---When it was front-line-talent versus front-line-talent, the O's strung together some singles, whereas the Nats got nothing done.
---The Nats hit an O's minor leaguer hard.
---Some bench hopefuls ralled nicely against the O's best pitcher, who just didn't have it.
---The broadcast, Sosa ejection aside, was as boring as could be.
In other words, ah! (Breathes in the fresh grass of my mind.) It's baseball again!
First Inning
* Either Fort Lauderdale has been completely eclipsed by one of those Mother Ships from "Independence Day," or Comcast SportsNet is having technical difficulties. Considering the mother ships are from a fictional movie and CcSn has technical difficulties every hour on the hour, I'm betting on the latter.
* Daniel Cabrera is really, really tall. He's got electric stuff (whatever that actually means . . .), but unless he drastically improves on his 2004 MLB strikeout-to-walk ratio (89/76), he's going to have trouble staying in Baltimore's rotation.
* Fancy Fred and Boring Buck pay some attention to Jose Guillen's anger management, which must gratify Ryan. They clearly know very little about the Nats, though, and in that sense I can tell the telecast is going to be a disappointment. I am interested in the O's (concededly, unlike many fans of our new Nats), and I haven't paid much attention to them this spring, so it's good to catch up a bit on that beat. Thus, I don't mind the O's focus, because I'll watch O's games on TV, and besides---MORE BASEBALL = GOOD THING. However, you're not going to learn much about the Nats in this game, I suspect.
* In the bottom of the inning, Fancy Fred is completely deked by a Miguel Tejada fly ball; Manfra thought it was gone off the bat, when in fact Tejada caught off the end of the bat a bit. Hey, it's spring training for the announcers, too. (By the way, the Buckster now considers Tejada the best offensive shortstop in the game---especially, Manfra adds, with A-Rod at third base. What, they've never heard of Virtual Guzman?)
* LIVAN! looks a little stiff out of the box; he's fidgeting a bit, rotating his arm trying to get loose.
* Sosa, interestingly, is the fifth-place hitter. I thought he raised a stink in Chicago upon being displaced from the cleanup spot. I guess he's playing the good soldier for now. Sosa gets called out on one of those sloppy, slow curves that LIVAN! loves to throw. A bit of jabbering by Sosa; it was questionable.
Second Inning
* Sideline reporter Brent Harris---you can tell he's going to focus on O's-related sideline stuff---says the O's have "a shot to pressure the Sox and Yankees." Appropriately ambiguous; nice job, son.
* Has Sosa been ejected? He has! By the second base ump, C.B. Bucknor? Yep! Now the umps are conferring with Mazilli; Sosa is kind of steaming but not really hot, standing off to the side. The TV guys cut to a precious shot of Frank Robinson chuckling in the Nats' dugout. Buck Martinez, you can tell, wants to shout, "THIS IS RIDICULOUS! IT'S SPRING TRAINING, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" But he's restraining himself, and resorting to policy-based rationales for why Bucknor (and why the second base ump?) should have shown more restraint (e.g., "Hitters like Sosa need at-bats to get their timing down. That's what spring training is for."). Manfra called the suspect pitch "clearly high," which is strange, because if it missed, it missed inside. They shown another replay, and I think I'm right. Whatever, no big deal; it certainly wasn't an "Eric Gregg strike." Sosa, resigned to his fate, has now lightly tossed his glove in the direction of Bucknor's feet in---as Manfra noted---symbolic protest. Well, that was interesting.
* Nice double by Carlos Baerga, DHing today. The double represents 50% of last year's total, by the way.
* It's Brent Harris Time again, our very own Jim-Gray-on-the-scene. Harris informs us that a fan in the right field seats taunted Sosa, who turned to fire back a jibe; Bucknor told Sosa to focus on the game, and Sosa apparently gave Bucknor some lip. Well, there you go; makes sense. Harris also added that Sosa---in the short time he was actually eligible to play, i.e., his one at-bat---fouled a ball off that landed in the parking line off of right field---RIGHT ON SOSA'S OWN CAR. Oh, the humanity!
* The O's string a couple of hits off of LIVAN! , score on a SAC Fly or something (I stepped out for a sec), and it's 1-0, Baltimore.
Third Inning
* The Sosa controversy has died down, and this game has been exposed for the boring spring training game that it is. Cabrera is making the entire team look like Inning-Endies.
* LIVAN! isn't getting shredded, but he's leaving some balls up in the zone, and the O's add another run. It's 2-0 after three, and I suspect Cabrera and Hernandez are both done.
Fourth Inning
* Nothing of consequence happening and then .............................. talk about the Orioles offense, and then .............................. talk about the Orioles pitching. (Buck Martinez turns the general topic of "pitching uncertainty" on its head, asking, "How many camps have this kind of competition for the fifth spot?" He's referring to Eric DuBose, Bruce Chen (who's pitching pretty well currently), Matt Riley, and Kurt Ainsworth. Sounds to me like a team with four question marks battling for the fifth starter spot; sounds to me like probably 15-20 other major league teams.
Fifth Inning
* Uh .................................... uh ....................................................... Hey, Anthony Williams is signing autographs! Eh ................................ I think some guy is running his weed wacker right next to CcSn's on-field mics. There's this constant buzz filtering in the sound mix. Or maybe there's just some small planes flying above. Let me try to concentra ......................................................
Sixth Inning
* Hmmm .............................. er ..................... Wait a minute; Terrmel Sledge just blasted a homer to center off a young O's minor leaguer named Hayden Penn (pretty decent prospect). It's a two run shot, so it's tied, 2-2.
* Brad Wilkerson, first Nats star, just hit an absolute bomb to right for back-to-back jacks. If the stadium is northernly-oriented, the ball landed in my front yard; if it's southernly-oriented, then Fidel Castro just renewed his love for the National Pastime. Wilkerson hit the ball that far, I swear.
Seventh Inning
* Nats add another run on a sort of freaky play in the right field corner. It's now 4-2.
* Most impressive feature of MVP Baseball 2005? It captures completely accurately just how pudgy T.J. Tucker is in real life.
Eighth Inning
* Manfra and Martinez are back to the bread-and-butter: Sosa. They're discussing the parallels between 'Cago-to-Balto Sammy and Cincy-to-Balto Frank Robinson.
* Gary Majewski is having trouble. The O's load the bases, Sledge makes a nice catching running in on the ball, but throws home, allowing the other runners to advance a base. Not that it matters; Majewski eventually walks the bases loaded again, and Calvin Pickering---er, Walter Young---strides to the plate, Biggie Smalls style.
* A CcSn commercial break is a steady progression of McDonalds' commercials and "SportsNite" promos. None of those cheerily cheesy Eastern Auto spots, though.
* Hector Carrasco in. Young hits a "sun chopper" that gets over Rick Short's head. (The ball took a big, high hop off the plate, and Short lost the hop in the sun. Or perhaps Short is in cahoots with his old organization.) It's now 5-4, O's.
* CcSn just ran last year's stats line for "Hector Harrasco." He went 8-8, 5.57 in Japan, so I'm glad the Nats have Hector Carrasco instead. I'm not sure if Harrasco or Carrasco is out there right now; whoever it was, he was wild-as-hell with the first batter.
* Hector Whoever induces a lazy fly ball to left, and the threat is extinguished. ("Electric stuff," "extinguished threats"---I wonder if Abner Doubleday was a volunteer fire fighter.) I guess I'll have to stick around to see if the Spring Nats (i.e., if you're not keeping score, you have no idea who is still in) can mount a rally in the ninth.
Ninth Inning
* B.J. Ryan is on now; I guess the "Proven Closer"(tm) has to get his work in during the spring, too. (Actually, I suppose Ryan isn't "proven" yet. Whatever he is, he's Just Plain Awesome.) His first opponent is Nepotista Jared Sandberg, who draws a quick walk. (Speaking of Sandberg: You don't hear much about him in Nats' camp. I guess it's assumed he's headed for New Orleans, eh?)
* Jeffrey Hammonds follows Sandberg, and man does his bat look slow. He's late on Ryan's off-speed pitch, and then just gets absolutely blown away by a fastball.
* George Arias---I nominate "The Heretic" as his nickname, by the way---lines a shot the just barely avoids snow-cone status in the glove of proven winner Enrique Wilson at second. So, it's now first-and-second, one down. The 36 fans still in attendance are stirring, as is the O's bullpen. And now Ray Miller is coming out for a word; I think I just heard an octogenarian fan yell, "It's 4:08! I've got an early-bird dinner to get to!" Now the fans are on Joe West's case.
* And Gary Bennett, back-up catcher extraordinaire, does it! He knocks a single to left, and The Nepotista scampers in to tie it at five apiece.
* Rick Short, the guy blinded by the light ten minutes ago (but who also tripled in the fourth run in the seventh) can bust this game open with another gapper. Instead, he strikes out looking on a make-up call by West.
* Ian Desmond (whose name strangely seems more appropriate of an Australian swimmer, in my opinion) lashes a triple down the line to left. All three runners score. It's now 8-5, and Sledge bangs out an opposite-field single to score the swimmer and increase the lead to four here in the top of the ninth. Ryan's been pulled, and I think I'm going to rap this up. If the O's rally, I'll add the details.
Okay, so a debrief:
---It was one game, so let's not cheer too much or overly lament some poor performances.
---When it was front-line-talent versus front-line-talent, the O's strung together some singles, whereas the Nats got nothing done.
---The Nats hit an O's minor leaguer hard.
---Some bench hopefuls ralled nicely against the O's best pitcher, who just didn't have it.
---The broadcast, Sosa ejection aside, was as boring as could be.
In other words, ah! (Breathes in the fresh grass of my mind.) It's baseball again!
Summit in Reykjavik . . .
. . . or Fort Lauderdale; whatever, it's all good
And welcome to Orioles baseball on Comcast SportsNet!
I'll add my observations (both of the performances and the telecast) after the game, but I'll bump three comments in now:
1) As expected, an Orioles-centric open.
2) "Bridging the gap": Sammy Sosa and NRI Carlos Baerga share an on-camera hug before the game.
3) CcSn has its typical "blips"; approximately four minutes lost, including the first few pitches.
And welcome to Orioles baseball on Comcast SportsNet!
I'll add my observations (both of the performances and the telecast) after the game, but I'll bump three comments in now:
1) As expected, an Orioles-centric open.
2) "Bridging the gap": Sammy Sosa and NRI Carlos Baerga share an on-camera hug before the game.
3) CcSn has its typical "blips"; approximately four minutes lost, including the first few pitches.
Friday, March 04, 2005
Cristian Guzman: Special OPS
Thoughts on MVP Baseball 2005, including how to turn Guzman (and, yes, even Inning-Endy Chavez) into a sabermetric demigod
As I've noted a couple of times, I picked up this EA Sports title a week ago today, because I really wanted . . . well, put it this way: I am as hyped up for baseball as Martha Stewart must be to return to her 182-acre estate.
I indicated that I would post my thoughts soon thereafter, but a week of illness has hampered my efforts both to play and to post on the game (and, worst of all, delayed my quest to experience the sheer beauty of XM Satellite Radio, a/k/a, "crack in baseball form"). But God invented antibiotics for a reason, and here I am again.
---First of all, congratulations to your Virtual Washington Nationals, who--- after losing two weekend games at Philly by the combined score of 12-4---claimed their first victory, a thrilling 5-2, 14-inning vanquishing of the phriggin' Phils. It was Tomo Okha's turn in the rotation, and he delivered an inspired performance over his seven innings---as memory serves, he allowed one run on six hits and two walks, while striking out eight batters---before being lifted for a pinch-hitter in the top of the eighth of a tight 2-1 contest. Joey Eischen couldn't preserve the lead in the bottom half, surrendering an opposite-field solo shot to Bobby Abreau.
From then on, it was sheer bullpen dominance. Virtual Charlie Manuel went "1970s closer" with Billy Wagner, hanging him out there was three incredible innings, and also mixed in Rheal Cormier and Tim Worrell. For the Nats, Eischen settled down and actually went a second inning, T.J. Tucker was spotless, Joe Horgan set down the Thome-Abreau duo, and Antonia Osuna Reborn (I don't believe he's in the game, so I recreated him by editing a generic player with a decidedly non-generic name like Tomohatsu Garcia) was gassin' 'em. The Nats broke through in the 14th, as pinch-hitter Jeffrey Hammonds led off with a single and, with runners at first and third, star of the game Jose "Don't make me get angry" Guillen singled Hammonds home. (Guillen had previously pounded the first Nats' homer, off Vicente Padilla.) Vinny Castilla chipped in an RBI single, and Nick Johnson lofted a sac fly. Chad Cordero made the lead stick. Ball game, as they say.
---Now, I won in large part because of fine-tuning made to the "game tuner," which will be the point of my review. You see, I love baseball, but I'm not a great baseball gamer. I think I peaked at "Baseball Stars," which, interestingly, is also when baseball games peaked, in my humble opinion. I just find most games (and joysticks) these days to be obscenely "busy" (and the players so life-like they lose the novelty of the old Nintendo days). Consequently, I'm not good at timing and hot'n'cold-based hitting systems, like MVP Baseball has. And I'm a "D-pad" kind of guy; these "analog sticks" have always freaked me out.
So, as I'm acclimating to the game, I am playing on "Pro" mode, which is the second out of four (in increasing difficulty) modes. And my hitting still kind of stinks. As a result, I've made two "tuning" adjustments in the gameplay mode:
a) I've decreased the computer's control a good deal (and mine, to some extent); and
b) I've upped my abilities to make contact and to hit with power (I was getting a lot of weak grounders to the middle infield otherwise).
I have two observations based on these changes:
1) The "gamer tuner" (or "game sliders mechanism," I guess, depending on who makes the game) is one of the greatest video games inventions since, well, the fights in "Blades of Steel."
The previous EA Sports title I purchased was NBA Live 2003, I suppose, and it was ridiculous. You played on one mode of difficulty, and the world was your oyster; you played on one higher, and the computer players summoned the Force in response to every pass you threw. But with a "game tuner," you can engineer the game in the manner you like. As reflected in my first adjustment, one criticism I have in baseball games is that everything the computer throws tends to be a strike. I like the play the game for at least some simulation of the real thing; thus, you've got to be able to work the count, look for your pitch, etc. (And the computer needs to have the opportunity to do this, too.) I don't relish 45-pitch complete games.
2) Cristian Guzman is freakin' awesome!
Well, I should clarify. Guzman's not that great in the game; he's probably a bit overrated, from what I can tell, but most players who make contact and run well are overrated by computer games---batting averages on balls in play tend to be inflated, in my experience, and it can be fairly simple to steal a base. But, make the above adjustments and place him in the most opportune spots in the order (in this game, Nos. 2 and 8---see below) and, as we might say about Esteban Loiaza: "WOW!"
I have played three league games in MVP Baseball (and played parts of several others, just toying around, scouting other teams/stadiums, getting my bearings), and Guzman has batted in the second and eighth spots in the order. (Vidro has also batted second, and Inning-Endy has also batted eighth.) It looks like the computer places exaggerated importance in these spots. Bat a guy second, and the computer will give into him (out of fear of the third spot); bat a guy eighth, and the computer will give nothing good to hit.
So here's the practical application: In the opener, I played Wilkerson in center, Sledge in left (in other words, no Endy), and Guzman hit eighth. Guzman had no official at-bats, as I recall (and it's been almost a week), drawing three walks. The computer treated Guzman as Don Zimmer treated Kevin Mitchell in the '89 NLCS: "Meh, let's just walk him." I was three-hit, so nothing of consequence happened offensively, except for Guzman's uber-Bonds OBP.
Well, in the game, Wilkerson just isn't rangy enough for center, and I don't feel like tuning my outfielders into Jesse Owens. So Endy got a start, batting eighth, in my second game; I gave Guzman the Frank Robinson Treatment and batted him second. (Vidro had collected 66.66666% of my hits in that spot in the opener, by the way.) Guzman saw little more than fastballs and dunked two singles in four at-bats. Trailing 8-0 in the top of the eighth, I gave in to the fact that I stink and boosted the power tuner; I rallied for four runs in the inning, and the stage was set for Guzman to become a star.
I kept Guzman in the second hole in the third game, the marathon. Wilkerson, who has gotten off to an abysmal start (inopportune "cold zones"; I find it hard to hit with him), batted third. Well, two things happened: Early in the game, Guzman hit the crud out of the ball, slamming a triple (guess it wasn't just the Metrodome) and scoring my first run and ripping a double to left. Then, the game realized (I guess) that Guzman's hot and Wilkerson's struggling, and the computer pitched around Guzman to get to Wilks. (And it worked.) All in all, Guzman was 3-for-4 with three walks.
Extra-base hits. Walks. Guzman is an OPS monster in this game so far!
(What is more, Endy hit eighth again. Guess what he's doing? That's right; he's walking a good deal. That's F-Robby's answer I guess: Hit him eighth and make sure a computer simulation pitches to him.)
Strategy by EA Sports!
As I've noted a couple of times, I picked up this EA Sports title a week ago today, because I really wanted . . . well, put it this way: I am as hyped up for baseball as Martha Stewart must be to return to her 182-acre estate.
I indicated that I would post my thoughts soon thereafter, but a week of illness has hampered my efforts both to play and to post on the game (and, worst of all, delayed my quest to experience the sheer beauty of XM Satellite Radio, a/k/a, "crack in baseball form"). But God invented antibiotics for a reason, and here I am again.
---First of all, congratulations to your Virtual Washington Nationals, who--- after losing two weekend games at Philly by the combined score of 12-4---claimed their first victory, a thrilling 5-2, 14-inning vanquishing of the phriggin' Phils. It was Tomo Okha's turn in the rotation, and he delivered an inspired performance over his seven innings---as memory serves, he allowed one run on six hits and two walks, while striking out eight batters---before being lifted for a pinch-hitter in the top of the eighth of a tight 2-1 contest. Joey Eischen couldn't preserve the lead in the bottom half, surrendering an opposite-field solo shot to Bobby Abreau.
From then on, it was sheer bullpen dominance. Virtual Charlie Manuel went "1970s closer" with Billy Wagner, hanging him out there was three incredible innings, and also mixed in Rheal Cormier and Tim Worrell. For the Nats, Eischen settled down and actually went a second inning, T.J. Tucker was spotless, Joe Horgan set down the Thome-Abreau duo, and Antonia Osuna Reborn (I don't believe he's in the game, so I recreated him by editing a generic player with a decidedly non-generic name like Tomohatsu Garcia) was gassin' 'em. The Nats broke through in the 14th, as pinch-hitter Jeffrey Hammonds led off with a single and, with runners at first and third, star of the game Jose "Don't make me get angry" Guillen singled Hammonds home. (Guillen had previously pounded the first Nats' homer, off Vicente Padilla.) Vinny Castilla chipped in an RBI single, and Nick Johnson lofted a sac fly. Chad Cordero made the lead stick. Ball game, as they say.
---Now, I won in large part because of fine-tuning made to the "game tuner," which will be the point of my review. You see, I love baseball, but I'm not a great baseball gamer. I think I peaked at "Baseball Stars," which, interestingly, is also when baseball games peaked, in my humble opinion. I just find most games (and joysticks) these days to be obscenely "busy" (and the players so life-like they lose the novelty of the old Nintendo days). Consequently, I'm not good at timing and hot'n'cold-based hitting systems, like MVP Baseball has. And I'm a "D-pad" kind of guy; these "analog sticks" have always freaked me out.
So, as I'm acclimating to the game, I am playing on "Pro" mode, which is the second out of four (in increasing difficulty) modes. And my hitting still kind of stinks. As a result, I've made two "tuning" adjustments in the gameplay mode:
a) I've decreased the computer's control a good deal (and mine, to some extent); and
b) I've upped my abilities to make contact and to hit with power (I was getting a lot of weak grounders to the middle infield otherwise).
I have two observations based on these changes:
1) The "gamer tuner" (or "game sliders mechanism," I guess, depending on who makes the game) is one of the greatest video games inventions since, well, the fights in "Blades of Steel."
The previous EA Sports title I purchased was NBA Live 2003, I suppose, and it was ridiculous. You played on one mode of difficulty, and the world was your oyster; you played on one higher, and the computer players summoned the Force in response to every pass you threw. But with a "game tuner," you can engineer the game in the manner you like. As reflected in my first adjustment, one criticism I have in baseball games is that everything the computer throws tends to be a strike. I like the play the game for at least some simulation of the real thing; thus, you've got to be able to work the count, look for your pitch, etc. (And the computer needs to have the opportunity to do this, too.) I don't relish 45-pitch complete games.
2) Cristian Guzman is freakin' awesome!
Well, I should clarify. Guzman's not that great in the game; he's probably a bit overrated, from what I can tell, but most players who make contact and run well are overrated by computer games---batting averages on balls in play tend to be inflated, in my experience, and it can be fairly simple to steal a base. But, make the above adjustments and place him in the most opportune spots in the order (in this game, Nos. 2 and 8---see below) and, as we might say about Esteban Loiaza: "WOW!"
I have played three league games in MVP Baseball (and played parts of several others, just toying around, scouting other teams/stadiums, getting my bearings), and Guzman has batted in the second and eighth spots in the order. (Vidro has also batted second, and Inning-Endy has also batted eighth.) It looks like the computer places exaggerated importance in these spots. Bat a guy second, and the computer will give into him (out of fear of the third spot); bat a guy eighth, and the computer will give nothing good to hit.
So here's the practical application: In the opener, I played Wilkerson in center, Sledge in left (in other words, no Endy), and Guzman hit eighth. Guzman had no official at-bats, as I recall (and it's been almost a week), drawing three walks. The computer treated Guzman as Don Zimmer treated Kevin Mitchell in the '89 NLCS: "Meh, let's just walk him." I was three-hit, so nothing of consequence happened offensively, except for Guzman's uber-Bonds OBP.
Well, in the game, Wilkerson just isn't rangy enough for center, and I don't feel like tuning my outfielders into Jesse Owens. So Endy got a start, batting eighth, in my second game; I gave Guzman the Frank Robinson Treatment and batted him second. (Vidro had collected 66.66666% of my hits in that spot in the opener, by the way.) Guzman saw little more than fastballs and dunked two singles in four at-bats. Trailing 8-0 in the top of the eighth, I gave in to the fact that I stink and boosted the power tuner; I rallied for four runs in the inning, and the stage was set for Guzman to become a star.
I kept Guzman in the second hole in the third game, the marathon. Wilkerson, who has gotten off to an abysmal start (inopportune "cold zones"; I find it hard to hit with him), batted third. Well, two things happened: Early in the game, Guzman hit the crud out of the ball, slamming a triple (guess it wasn't just the Metrodome) and scoring my first run and ripping a double to left. Then, the game realized (I guess) that Guzman's hot and Wilkerson's struggling, and the computer pitched around Guzman to get to Wilks. (And it worked.) All in all, Guzman was 3-for-4 with three walks.
Extra-base hits. Walks. Guzman is an OPS monster in this game so far!
(What is more, Endy hit eighth again. Guess what he's doing? That's right; he's walking a good deal. That's F-Robby's answer I guess: Hit him eighth and make sure a computer simulation pitches to him.)
Strategy by EA Sports!
Thursday, March 03, 2005
The coin flips and . . .
. . . after obsessing over the radio deal, I might as well look at the other side of the media coin (so to speak)
From DCRTV:
I don't know if anyone noticed this (okay, EVERYONE who cares and saw it must have noticed), but when CcSn's "SportsNight" (or is it "SportsNite"?) plugs Saturday's game, it is introduced as "Orioles baseball on Comcast SportsNet."
Continuing on . . .
Well, that's magnanimous, right?
Hey wait; you're not $aying Angelo$ is motivated by thing$ other than the free exchange of broadca$t $ignal$s, are you? After all, there aren't baseball fans in DC.
From DCRTV:
With only a month until the start of the baseball season, "nothing much" has developed in the past two weeks toward a local TV deal for the DC Nationals. That's because Orioles owner Peter Angelos is holding the
agreement "hostage" over money matters. So far, the Baltimore Orioles will have 80 games on Comcast SportsNet, starting Saturday with the game against the Nationals.
I don't know if anyone noticed this (okay, EVERYONE who cares and saw it must have noticed), but when CcSn's "SportsNight" (or is it "SportsNite"?) plugs Saturday's game, it is introduced as "Orioles baseball on Comcast SportsNet."
Continuing on . . .
And the Orioles broadcast network will air 60 more games, most likely on Channel 66/WPXW in the DC market. But there's still no word about a
deal which would have CSN carrying 70 to 80 Nationals games, with another 60 on either Channel 20/WDCA or Channel 50/WBDC. DC Examiner sports media columnist Jim Williams tells DCRTV that Angelos favors a TV plan that would allow both the DC and Baltimore markets to see both teams, as opposed to one that would keep the Nationals out of the Charm City market.
Well, that's magnanimous, right?
Hey wait; you're not $aying Angelo$ is motivated by thing$ other than the free exchange of broadca$t $ignal$s, are you? After all, there aren't baseball fans in DC.
The other dugout
Just for kicks, I checked out what Mets bloggers said about yesterday's first game
Taking a quick lay of the land . . .
---Fear and Faith in Flushing quipped about the irony of a Washington team pitching a guy named "Hinckley" and said some other things, including:
Oh, and there's also an Endy Chavez reference to warm our hearts:
---The Eddie Kranepool Society took a "Hey, it's baseball!" posture:
---Simply Amazins, touching a similar theme, notes that everything is "new" during spring training:
---Finally, No Joy in Metsville must be the Bizarro Basil:
There are many more Mets blogs, of course, but the several of them I scanned either had just Mets-related notes from the game or hadn't been updated yet.
The important point, I think, is that nobody (that I saw) bemoaned simply losing to the Nats (e.g., "OMG! We lost to the Nats! Pass me that grape Kool-Aid, Jim!").
Hey, we've arrived.
Taking a quick lay of the land . . .
---Fear and Faith in Flushing quipped about the irony of a Washington team pitching a guy named "Hinckley" and said some other things, including:
Speaking of which, the Washington Nationals, with Hinckley on the mound, Booth behind the plate and three lone gunmen in the outfield, are, like the Junior League, in existence. Nineteen times a year they will be a federal pain in the ass.Every time I think about the Expos in the abstract, I feel terrible that they're no longer among the living. Then I look at the team they've become, which is still very much the Murderer's Row from Montreal, plus
a couple of hired guns, and I shudder. The Mets could never handle the Expos particularly well. The rest of the world saw a ragtag franchise that made one post-season trip in 36 years. We saw a team full of anonymous killers and we needed the 1,197th and final game of our all-time series with them to emerge victorious. Final score: Mets 599 Expos 598.
Oh, and there's also an Endy Chavez reference to warm our hearts:
Who's the quintessential Expo-cum-National vis-à-vis the Mets? Endy Chavez. Endy Chavez was a Mets minor leaguer mindlessly dispatched by Steve Phillips while he was presumably eyeing Sheila in accounting. Endy Chavez is a lifetime .264 hitter against everybody, a lifetime .330 hitter against the Mets. Endy Chavez is my own private Vladimir.
---The Eddie Kranepool Society took a "Hey, it's baseball!" posture:
Yeah I know the Mets lost to the Nats today in the first spring game of the year, but how great was it, with the remnants of Monday's Nor'easter slowly melting, to turn on the TV at 1:00PM and see baseball? Even Swarmy Steve Philip's ugly face couldn't put a damper on the moment.
---Simply Amazins, touching a similar theme, notes that everything is "new" during spring training:
The optimistic side of me is hoping that, several years from now, I can look back and see this as the time when the fortunes of the Amazins finally took a turn for the better.Yesterday afternoon, the "new Mets" took the field wearing new uniforms, against the Washington Nationals, a team with a new home. So there was plenty of change to go around. I only pray that their new duds, a sweet-looking black & blue combo, don't foreshadow the disabled list of the 2005 Mets. They didn't win their first exhibition, but there were plenty of promising highlights during the game. While an immediate drubbing of the opposition would have been exhilirating, they still showed signs that there are plenty of reasons to keep the faith.
---Finally, No Joy in Metsville must be the Bizarro Basil:
A few weeks [ago] I wondered what excuse I'd use for playing hooky from work today to watch the game, but I must've jinxed myself because I'm
legitimately sick.
There are many more Mets blogs, of course, but the several of them I scanned either had just Mets-related notes from the game or hadn't been updated yet.
The important point, I think, is that nobody (that I saw) bemoaned simply losing to the Nats (e.g., "OMG! We lost to the Nats! Pass me that grape Kool-Aid, Jim!").
Hey, we've arrived.
Rack 'em
So, the Nats won yesterday, huh?
---Unfortunately, about the time Jose Guillen was performing the Heilman Manuever to right, I was sitting in the doc's office, reading this. (No disrespect to the publication itself, or to the people it promotes, but . . . it ain't baseball, you know?)
Anyway, I really wish I could have seen the game. The other night, when the WaPo reporter called, I mentioned how very cool it was to see Brad Wilkerson stride to the plate in a Nats uni. Keep in mind I was talking about a freakin' video game.
Hey, I just discovered this! It's like a personalized, Nats-ized version of a gametracker. I don't know if Rich intends this to be a regular feature, but he certainly gets a BIG E for "effort."
---During the game, Tom Boswell did an online chat. One of the questions he received read (note location):
Just in case anyone was wondering, the author of that question was not me.
---Fresh off the "presses" from today's "Frankly Speaking" on Nats Journal:
That little caveat should ease a bit the concerns over the "Inning-Endy PLUS Guzman??!!" at the top of the order concern/outrage. Just a bit, concededly.
---Terrmel Sledge is a long way from Rodney Dangerfield status (first of all, Terrmel's still alive), but this little note also found in "Nats Journal"---when viewed in light of his situation as perhaps/probably bench-bound--- might yield some "Can't get no respect" jokes:
---Unfortunately, about the time Jose Guillen was performing the Heilman Manuever to right, I was sitting in the doc's office, reading this. (No disrespect to the publication itself, or to the people it promotes, but . . . it ain't baseball, you know?)
Anyway, I really wish I could have seen the game. The other night, when the WaPo reporter called, I mentioned how very cool it was to see Brad Wilkerson stride to the plate in a Nats uni. Keep in mind I was talking about a freakin' video game.
Hey, I just discovered this! It's like a personalized, Nats-ized version of a gametracker. I don't know if Rich intends this to be a regular feature, but he certainly gets a BIG E for "effort."
---During the game, Tom Boswell did an online chat. One of the questions he received read (note location):
Richmond, Va.: Tom, thank you for keping this dream alive. Washington ought to declare today "Tom Boswell Day." . . . I also hope a Boswell book is forthcoming on the rebirth on D.C. baseball; your columns of late have been poetic.
Just in case anyone was wondering, the author of that question was not me.
---Fresh off the "presses" from today's "Frankly Speaking" on Nats Journal:
The key is the top of the lineup. If we're going to score and be consistent those two guys [Endy Chavez and Cristian Guzman] have to -- or whomever is hitting up there 1-2 -- we'll have to get on base on a consistent-type basis.
That little caveat should ease a bit the concerns over the "Inning-Endy PLUS Guzman??!!" at the top of the order concern/outrage. Just a bit, concededly.
---Terrmel Sledge is a long way from Rodney Dangerfield status (first of all, Terrmel's still alive), but this little note also found in "Nats Journal"---when viewed in light of his situation as perhaps/probably bench-bound--- might yield some "Can't get no respect" jokes:
No surprises in today's lineup against Bethune-Cookman. Well, maybe one. Terrmel Sledge is leading off. No, it's not because Frank Robinson projects him as a lead-off hitter. It's because he initially forgot to put Sledge in the lineup today, someone noticed the oversight, and he just stuck him in the top spot.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Ball game
Almost. Tomorrow's only a day away.
The Post's Nats Journal has the starting nine:
1. Endy Chavez, center field
2. Cristian Guzman, shortstop
3. Jose Vidro, second base
4. Jose Guillen, right field
5. Brad Wilkerson, left field
6. Vinny Castilla, third base
7. Nick Johnson, first base
8. Brian Schneider, catcher
9. Tony Armas, pitcher
* Mike Hinckley will relieve Armas after two innings.
Bill Grant has also posted some excerpts of Frank Robinson's press conference this morning. One of them is interesting, and I'll let it speak for itself (see below for why):
---I'm completely out of anything substantive to say about the lineup or the presumed Endy/Terrmel/Nick playing-time-love-triangle (which I guess is nearing an end), but I figured I'd link to Nationals Pastime John's exploration as to whether "Inning-Endy" will in fact be an apt nickname for our man, Endy Chavez. In addition, Capitol Punishment Chris provides a good look at the bench candidates. (Also read his review of the Negro Leagues exhibit at Union Station.)
---Let's play "Who do you trust?"
Joe Sheehan, Baseball Prospectus (on the three stories no one is talking about now but will be at the end of '05):
Poster "NatsforMe" on the Ballpark Guys forum:
Obviously, there's more to life than merchandise sales (e.g., media rights), but it's an interesting contrast nonetheless.
The Post's Nats Journal has the starting nine:
1. Endy Chavez, center field
2. Cristian Guzman, shortstop
3. Jose Vidro, second base
4. Jose Guillen, right field
5. Brad Wilkerson, left field
6. Vinny Castilla, third base
7. Nick Johnson, first base
8. Brian Schneider, catcher
9. Tony Armas, pitcher
* Mike Hinckley will relieve Armas after two innings.
Bill Grant has also posted some excerpts of Frank Robinson's press conference this morning. One of them is interesting, and I'll let it speak for itself (see below for why):
[Terrmel Sledge] just does everything that a manager would want a player to do, especially in his situation. He's in a tough situation right now. He's ready to start at the big league level. But right now, he's in a situation that he has no control over. He has to be, as we say, patient. And that's not easy to do. It's easy to say, but it's not easy to do. But I think he can handle it. He did last year, and I think he can handle it this year. He'll have his day. Much sooner than later.
---I'm completely out of anything substantive to say about the lineup or the presumed Endy/Terrmel/Nick playing-time-love-triangle (which I guess is nearing an end), but I figured I'd link to Nationals Pastime John's exploration as to whether "Inning-Endy" will in fact be an apt nickname for our man, Endy Chavez. In addition, Capitol Punishment Chris provides a good look at the bench candidates. (Also read his review of the Negro Leagues exhibit at Union Station.)
---Let's play "Who do you trust?"
Joe Sheehan, Baseball Prospectus (on the three stories no one is talking about now but will be at the end of '05):
2) The Nationals aren't a cash cow.
Poster "NatsforMe" on the Ballpark Guys forum:
On ESPN Radio this morning, Peter Gammons -- i[s] talking about the Nationals' buzz -- said Washington was #2 in merchandise sales (behind
Boston).
Obviously, there's more to life than merchandise sales (e.g., media rights), but it's an interesting contrast nonetheless.
The power of the Frankmasons
"Wayne Knight is officially freaked out" award for March 1st; file it under "access killed the radio star"
Some time ago, I dedicated an award to the most expressive character of the film "JFK." To put it simply, these guys are right: I'm sort of fond of conspiracy theories.
Accelerating right down that alley is the story of an aggrieved man named Mike Vechery, who---if you'll pardon the (presumed) rhyme---accuses Frank Robinson, the Nats, Major League Baseball, and Nats radio partner WFED-AM of treachery.
First, an introductory note: Outside of an email I received from him, I have no idea who he is. He's certainly a realtor (from the looks of it, a pretty good one), and his radio broadcasts (used to?) air on WFED. If you believe his website, his show appeared to be exactly what we should hope for in local AM radio---and then some. While the show appeared to focus on real estate matters, his guest list---including the author of "Chicken Soup for the Soul," legendary high school basketball coach Morgan Wooten, a CIA whistleblower, an UnderArmour exec, and the Nats' media director---is truly impressive for a show airing on WFED's meager signal. (More at the website of WTOP, the Bonneville cluster's flagship station. Notice no audio link to his Feb. 27 show.)
I give this background neither to provide Mr. Vechery a plug (how could I, given the size and scope of this blog?) nor because I really have to duty to (it appears that he emailed most of the Nats bloggers out there, as well as---presumably---people with actual influence). Instead, I want to offer the caveat that, although his claims are certainly "out there," Mr. Vechery appears to be a very successful individual and is probably influenced a bit by emotion in his accusations.
Speaking of which, his website links to a .PDF press release, but thankfully Chris from Capitol Punishment already found the press release somewhere else. It's long, but let's see if we can attempt to get a grasp of what might have* happened.
1. Mr. Vechery is in Florida for Nats spring training. Interestingly, the WTOP website promotes his Feb. 27 show as having "reports" on Nats-related activities and personalities. Apparently, he's been given a press credential.
2. At Frank Robinson's Feb. 27 press conference, Vechery asks a question to Robinson about steroids/BALCO/etc. In recap, Vechery vaguely claims that while no ground rules were set for the press conference, this question was "off-limits."
3. The same day, Vechery purchases spring training signage and an ad in the Nats spring programs to advertise the radio show.
4. The next day, Vechery was removed from the morning press conference, stripped of his press credentials and notified his sponsorship agreement had been repudiated.
5. WFED terminated his radio contract.
6. WFED pulled the plug on his most recent Sunday show 20 minutes in.
7. According to a termination letter from a Bonneville exec, Vechery was terminated for representing himself as a WFED employee.
8. WFED offered to compensate Vechery for shows not aired.
Consequently, Mr. Vechery contends that "Frank Robinson became part of an expulsion plot by the Nationals, Major League Baseball(MLB),and Washington DC's WFED radio station, the station set to broadcast all Nationals baseball games."
In all honesty, it's the "expulsion plot" part---along with accusations of being "blackball[ed]" from his "valuable time slot"---that merits this the "Wayne Knight" status.
Look, it would be grossly out of place to discuss any legal claims Mr. Vechery may or may not have, so I won't even go there. I wish to go in a different direction.
Why, would you presume, Bonneville (or the Nats themselves) got so upset? If I had to guess, I would speculate that somehow Mr. Vechery converted "spectator/visitor-with-credentials" status (sort of quasi-spectator, or "spectator-with-privileges") into "quasi-journalist" status. In fact, I suspect Mr. Vechery admits as much in the press release:
The thought occurs to me that Mr. Vechery was attempting to be the radio analog of the "new journalism" of blogging and was cut down because commercial radio isn't an applicable medium.
There's a lot of talk about blogging these days---particularly political blogging, but sports blogging is a popular form, too, and not without comment and criticism (just check out the Ballpark Guys DC baseball forum). I like blogging because I like writing. Yet, let's not delude ourselves; I'm not a professional journalist (though I could have been, if that had remained my desire), and I'm not a sabermetrics expert. I'm just a guy with an opinion who aims (though not always succeeds) to add a little insight to the conversation. I know my place, I hope.
Last night, in fact, a Washington Post reporter called me. He had seen my entry regarding "MVP Baseball 2005" and wanted to know more about it from a Nats fan's perspective. I was happy to provide any thoughts I could and gratified to know that I'll be quoted in the story. He was aware of my blog, I think, and I, of course, invited him to check it out; however, that was not the point of his story, obviously, and I am not as ostentatious as to attempt to hijack a reporter's time by promoting my free, leisurely writing.
By comparison, it is my suspicion (and, without knowing more, just my suspicion) that Mr. Vechery crossed this line. And, without knowing more, I can't really blame WFED or the Nationals for asserting some control over media access. They're the ones who hire and pay the radio guys, of course. Commercial radio, unlike blogging, is not a free enterprise with only one resource limitation (time).
Coincidentally, this story reminds me of an anecdote recently from the public radio show "This American Life." A man was recounting the time he interrupted President Bush's (the first one's) press conference. Bush handled the situation with incredible deft and aplomb; instead of shouting down the guy or summoning his arrest, Bush engaged him in conversation, reminded him that the questions period had not begun, and promised him a question.
The man was in shock. He expected to be arrested. That is what he expected; he was protesting, after all. When it came time for questions, he had nothing to say in particular.
A time and a place, a time and a place. That should be our credo for those of us embarking in this "new," quasi-journalistic "journalism."
*This is an academic exercise only, at the most. If Mr. Vechery has indeed been aggrieved, he should really find a member of the print or television/radio media to champion his cause.
Some time ago, I dedicated an award to the most expressive character of the film "JFK." To put it simply, these guys are right: I'm sort of fond of conspiracy theories.
Accelerating right down that alley is the story of an aggrieved man named Mike Vechery, who---if you'll pardon the (presumed) rhyme---accuses Frank Robinson, the Nats, Major League Baseball, and Nats radio partner WFED-AM of treachery.
First, an introductory note: Outside of an email I received from him, I have no idea who he is. He's certainly a realtor (from the looks of it, a pretty good one), and his radio broadcasts (used to?) air on WFED. If you believe his website, his show appeared to be exactly what we should hope for in local AM radio---and then some. While the show appeared to focus on real estate matters, his guest list---including the author of "Chicken Soup for the Soul," legendary high school basketball coach Morgan Wooten, a CIA whistleblower, an UnderArmour exec, and the Nats' media director---is truly impressive for a show airing on WFED's meager signal. (More at the website of WTOP, the Bonneville cluster's flagship station. Notice no audio link to his Feb. 27 show.)
I give this background neither to provide Mr. Vechery a plug (how could I, given the size and scope of this blog?) nor because I really have to duty to (it appears that he emailed most of the Nats bloggers out there, as well as---presumably---people with actual influence). Instead, I want to offer the caveat that, although his claims are certainly "out there," Mr. Vechery appears to be a very successful individual and is probably influenced a bit by emotion in his accusations.
Speaking of which, his website links to a .PDF press release, but thankfully Chris from Capitol Punishment already found the press release somewhere else. It's long, but let's see if we can attempt to get a grasp of what might have* happened.
1. Mr. Vechery is in Florida for Nats spring training. Interestingly, the WTOP website promotes his Feb. 27 show as having "reports" on Nats-related activities and personalities. Apparently, he's been given a press credential.
2. At Frank Robinson's Feb. 27 press conference, Vechery asks a question to Robinson about steroids/BALCO/etc. In recap, Vechery vaguely claims that while no ground rules were set for the press conference, this question was "off-limits."
3. The same day, Vechery purchases spring training signage and an ad in the Nats spring programs to advertise the radio show.
4. The next day, Vechery was removed from the morning press conference, stripped of his press credentials and notified his sponsorship agreement had been repudiated.
5. WFED terminated his radio contract.
6. WFED pulled the plug on his most recent Sunday show 20 minutes in.
7. According to a termination letter from a Bonneville exec, Vechery was terminated for representing himself as a WFED employee.
8. WFED offered to compensate Vechery for shows not aired.
Consequently, Mr. Vechery contends that "Frank Robinson became part of an expulsion plot by the Nationals, Major League Baseball(MLB),and Washington DC's WFED radio station, the station set to broadcast all Nationals baseball games."
In all honesty, it's the "expulsion plot" part---along with accusations of being "blackball[ed]" from his "valuable time slot"---that merits this the "Wayne Knight" status.
Look, it would be grossly out of place to discuss any legal claims Mr. Vechery may or may not have, so I won't even go there. I wish to go in a different direction.
Why, would you presume, Bonneville (or the Nats themselves) got so upset? If I had to guess, I would speculate that somehow Mr. Vechery converted "spectator/visitor-with-credentials" status (sort of quasi-spectator, or "spectator-with-privileges") into "quasi-journalist" status. In fact, I suspect Mr. Vechery admits as much in the press release:
As a native Washingtonian, baseball fan, journalist andbusinessman, I am appalled at these strong arm tactics. I was to providequality journalism on the Nationals at a quality time slot. The Nationalsappear to be Anti 1st Amendment, Anti Journalist(unless you work for the bigboys) and Anti Business.
The thought occurs to me that Mr. Vechery was attempting to be the radio analog of the "new journalism" of blogging and was cut down because commercial radio isn't an applicable medium.
There's a lot of talk about blogging these days---particularly political blogging, but sports blogging is a popular form, too, and not without comment and criticism (just check out the Ballpark Guys DC baseball forum). I like blogging because I like writing. Yet, let's not delude ourselves; I'm not a professional journalist (though I could have been, if that had remained my desire), and I'm not a sabermetrics expert. I'm just a guy with an opinion who aims (though not always succeeds) to add a little insight to the conversation. I know my place, I hope.
Last night, in fact, a Washington Post reporter called me. He had seen my entry regarding "MVP Baseball 2005" and wanted to know more about it from a Nats fan's perspective. I was happy to provide any thoughts I could and gratified to know that I'll be quoted in the story. He was aware of my blog, I think, and I, of course, invited him to check it out; however, that was not the point of his story, obviously, and I am not as ostentatious as to attempt to hijack a reporter's time by promoting my free, leisurely writing.
By comparison, it is my suspicion (and, without knowing more, just my suspicion) that Mr. Vechery crossed this line. And, without knowing more, I can't really blame WFED or the Nationals for asserting some control over media access. They're the ones who hire and pay the radio guys, of course. Commercial radio, unlike blogging, is not a free enterprise with only one resource limitation (time).
Coincidentally, this story reminds me of an anecdote recently from the public radio show "This American Life." A man was recounting the time he interrupted President Bush's (the first one's) press conference. Bush handled the situation with incredible deft and aplomb; instead of shouting down the guy or summoning his arrest, Bush engaged him in conversation, reminded him that the questions period had not begun, and promised him a question.
The man was in shock. He expected to be arrested. That is what he expected; he was protesting, after all. When it came time for questions, he had nothing to say in particular.
A time and a place, a time and a place. That should be our credo for those of us embarking in this "new," quasi-journalistic "journalism."
*This is an academic exercise only, at the most. If Mr. Vechery has indeed been aggrieved, he should really find a member of the print or television/radio media to champion his cause.
