I Wanna A New Stat

I just watched Scotty Pods here get an infield single based solely on his speed. For 98% off all baserunners, that would have been a ground out with the shortstop beating 'em by a step (or two) with a laser. So, it got me to thinking that maybe we should introduce a new, non-sabermetric stat to this statistics-rabid sport and fanbase. Ready for it?

The Stolen Hit.

Yes. The Stolen Hit (designated 'SH' on your score cards kids). This kind of infield single, which I see a ton of from my hometown icon, Ichiro Suzuki, is less like a hit (save for that it came off the bat) and more like a stolen base. It would still factor in normally to batting average, on-base% and whatnot, but not be included in the WHIP of the pitcher who just had to suffer through the ordeal of giving up a hit based solely on the speed of his opponent.

Let me know what you think folks. This could be a great new statistic!

Food For Thought: Year of the Pitcher

If the 2010 baseball season is "The Year Of The Pitcher", then why did Joe Blanton just struggle to stay under 40 pitches in the top of the first against the Dodgers? After Jamey Carroll lined an RBI double to left center with two outs, Blanton then intentionally walks Brad Ausmus. Yeah, Brad Ausmus. The guy with the career .669 OPS. The Brad Ausmus who has hit all of .207 against Phillies pitchers. Sure, it was in order to face the pitcher, Clayton Kershaw, but come on, if this really is THE YEAR OF THE PITCHER, then shouldn't the argument be made to defeat such piss poor performances as this?


Oh yeah...it's Joe Blanton.

Say Hey Word! Kid

Normally, I cringe at watching Braves games; the racist team name, the insidious "Tomohawk Chop" and the fact that Chipper Jones has always annoyed me, for no good reason. But Jason Heyward compels me to watch. He's that good; on pace for a .290/30HR/100RBI rookie season. That's something that Mays, Ruth, Aaron and Griffey didn't do. Only Albert Pujols has done that (or better, of course) to my knowledge. So, I can put aside my murderous rage incited by bigoted white America's continued hate, intolerance and insensitivity towards Native Americans to watch this kid play ball. Hopefully, the Braves hit some hard times and are forced to trade the Say HeyWord! Kid (nickname of my creation, a play on his last name and Willie Mays's nickname, in case you're too stupid to figure that out).

Game of the Day

Ubaldo Jimenez used Tim Lincecum as his experimental playground whipping boy today as the Colorado Rockies beat the San Francisco Giants 4-0. Jimenez looked like a combination of Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez out there today. Lincecum actually looked better than in his last few starts, but he still couldn't master his command. I wonder what kind of software upgrade Jimenez got this off-season, because I remember him in the '07 World Series looking like an average pitcher who was over-hyped because of his bullet train fastball. Now he looks like he's going to unseat Lincecum for a few consecutive Cy Youngs in the NL (no offense to Doc Halladay, who is unequivocally a fuckin' badass).

Tragedy is something to celebrate

I was looking through an email advertisment from Ebbet's Field Flannels that I receive through their mailing list. This one concerned a sale on Pacific Coast League (PCL) team shirts, etc. That is not really the interesting part. What was so fascinating was the sidebar of the page displaying a "This Date in Baseball History" factoid. For May 28th, 1925: "Oakland Oaks pitcher George Boehler pitched 9 1/2 innings of no-hit ball, but lost to Sacramento on two hits and an error in the tenth." Baseball is certainly the only sport, and probably one of the very few realms of life, in which we celebrate tragedy in such a sense. Regardless of if we were rooting for one team or the other, what is most important is that true appreciators of the sport recognize the beauty in such an historical fact and tragedy. Boehler came close to an act of perfection, purity, godliness and immortality. Well, in a sense he's achieved the immortality part a bit, because 85 years later, people he never knew and wasn't related to are talking about him. Nonetheless, he came that close and still is pegged a failure. Icarus would've lit on fucking fire descending that quickly.

The Sinking of the DH

Just watched a discussion about poor offensive production (particularly from the DH spot) on the MLB network and even Sean "The Mayor" Casey ignored the elephant in the studio. All of the analysts spoke of how it may be a return of dominant pitching (which is certainly a valid factor). None of them conjectured about the effects of a downturn in PED use. So, this leads to two questions. First, regardless of testing regimens and harsh penalties for getting caught using PEDs, has there actually been a reduction in use? Secondly, assuming there has been a reduction in use of PED in baseball, would it really produce such awful offensive numbers in absentia and why the fuck didn't they discuss some of these possibilities? The silence leads me to suspicion that they know how little change there has been in PED use in baseball.

Rickie Weeks or Rickie Henderson?

We all know that Rickie Weeks has shown glimpses of the talent he possesses that could/should make him a stud leadoff hitter. Tonight I saw some serious evidence of that. He hit his 14th career leadoff home run off of Cardinals ace Chris Carpenter (d'oh! he's on my fantasy team...shit!). Then he proceeded to draw two walks and hit a single to get on base every one of his first four plate appearances, while also effectively stealing second on a sky high pop-up he probably should have stayed on first for. Yet, he was safe and all game has been pouring gasoline on the fire that is the Brewers' offense tonight. My only beef? Those dreadlocks of his need to get longer faster.

Prince Howard

Just thought this was noteworthy. Prince Fielder (my new favorite non-Red Sox player) and Ryan Howard both hit their 42nd homers last night, both going to the opposite field on ridiculous pitches. These dudes are serious fuckin' hitters. Fielder hit a pitch that almost woulda been in a right-handed hitter's ear to send Bernie Brewer down the slide. Howard cranked a down and away pitch where only Miami Dolphin fans seem to buy tickets. Fat kids are pretty cool.

The Diceman Cometh To Give Me A Stroke

This nervous, sweaty-palmed, plate-nibbling mother fucker is gonna start for the Sox tomorrow. I wish I was a sports book so that I could make odds on how many batters faced the Dice will go to full counts on, how many batters he'll face total just to struggle to get through five innings and be in line for the loss and how many Red Sox Nation suicides will coincide with the inevitable train wreck of a start for Matsuzaka. Don't get me wrong, I'd love the Dice of the previous two seasons (at least record-wise, though he still threw too many pitches), but I really don't think that's what we're getting. I'm also perplexed as to why Teets and the Theos need to start him in the thick of a Wild Card race. Is this a contractual obligation that that demon Scott Boras added into his paperwork?
It also doesn't help that he's squaring off against John Lackey, who looked pretty fabulous in hyis last start, holding the Mariners down like Louis XVI at the guillotine.

The Coolest Celebrations in Baseball

The Milwaukee Brewers might just be the coolest, hippest baseball team in the majors. I say this based solely on their creative celebratory style. First, when Ryan Braun or Prince Fielder hit a home run, their own bash brothers hand jive is the sparring jabs of a boxer and his trainer. Now, I thought that was pretty fuckin' cool and innovative. But then yesterday, the Milwaukee Brewers blew my freakin' mind. When Fielder squashed, I mean absolutely swatted, a walk-off dinger in the bottom of the 12th, their home plate fracas of fun was one of the greatest things I've ever seen in baseball. When Fielder gets to home plate to be greeted by his teammates, I fully expected the same old mobbing that David Ortiz or anybody else would get, but...that wouldn't be. When he lands on the plate, his teammates all fall on their backs the moment he lands, signifying a grand explosion, and then he looks to the heavens, arms outstretched in a way that almost made him look like an anime character, and basks in the glory of what he has just done. So, follow the link provided and watch the first video clip from that game and you'll see what kinda magic I'm talkin' 'bout!!

Uh, Hell Yes I Just Went To This Game!!!

So, on the bus ride back from 'The Safe', I was talking with my buddy Eddie and I figured that this was the best pitching performance I had seen in person so far in my life. We remarked, around the 7th inning, that you had to keep reminding yourself how bad ass Greinke was, because it was a subtle, understated masterpiece on the mound, particularly because he didn't strike 15 batters or anything (only 5, in fact). He just simply went out there, worked quickly and got the fuckin job done. He was hurling 96 mph heat with a low-80s change and a curve that even dropped down to 66 mph. Sick. Overall, a fabulous way to spend Eddie's last afternoon in Seattle for the Summer. Take care Eddie!

Bullpens Shit the Bed, too!

Back in April, I bitched and moaned about Jason Motte, a closer for the St. Louis Cardinals on my fantasy at the time. Motte's tenure lasted about 72 hours on Team Mondesi as he proved competent only at giving Tony La Russa small heart attacks and me a temporary case of Tourettes that my neighbors quickly grew tired of. Closers with this level of confidence seem to be hopping on and off the fuckin bullpen merry-go-round this season. While I don't have Fernando Rodney (pictured) on my team, witnessing him empty his own brand of adult diaper on the pitching mound against the Cardinals tonight was equally frustrating and astonishing. Rodney had 3 wild pitches and about a half dozen others that only missed that distinction because his catcher, Gerald Laird, was adept enough to catch such shitty pitches. It started to make me miss the days of the shut-down, no-questions-asked closers (or pitchers, in general, for that matter). Sure, Heath Bell is the shit this season and Jonathan "Crazy Eyes" Papelbon is consistent, but it seems like bullpens just lack a little balls this season. Well, as John always says, maybe there will be a little "regression to the mean".

Jayson Stark just earned a Mark

On his forehead and for that matter, all ESPN Baseball columinsts. I'm fuckin sick of your double standards, heavily guarded racism and self-righteousness. I'm so fucking tired of it all that I can only barely skim the surface. You have spent the last month and a half pushing Manny Ramirez through a series of rock crushers, meat grinders and other undesirable positions for his positive test and suspension. The unorthodox Manny has never been one to capture unfettered admiration in your eyes, sure, but he's no demon. However, to a bunch of cracker-ass, uber-privileged honkey journalists, he must be just black enough, just free-spirited enough to have pissed you off to your core. I'm not here to debate the right or wrong of Manny's drug policy transgressions. I'm here to point out your selective hypocricy, which rears its ugly head in today's article about Raul Ibanez. Did Manny test positive? Yes. Is the baseball culture now tainted in the view of fans so much so that Raul's devouring of opposing pitching is met with some level of skepticism regarding the PED era? Yes, it most certainly is and that is just tough fucking shit. Raul's a grown man. He can deal with this and if he can't, then he shouldn't be a fucking baseball player, earning $10+ million a year to play a game and be in the public eye.
Honestly, I'm happy for Raul, who I watched for years here in Seattle, but also make no relevant speculations about him and PEDs at all. Is there a possibility? Absolutely. Do I care? Not really. We all got what we wanted out of the steroid era: Baseball made a roaring comeback, players earn salaries unheard of just 10 years before and fans got to see some pretty incredible shit happen. So, I ask you, ESPN writers, what is it that makes it so easy for you to treat Manny Ramirez like a Salem witch and then turn around and actually say that Ibanez, "Doesn't deserve a scarlet 'S'"? I have some ideas.....................you fuckwads.

Getting the car fixed

Can actually save you from a small heartache. I was watching the Sox-Rays game today on NESN (for some reason, I get all the Fox Sports affiliate baseball channels. no complaints, in fact rejoicing, but it is strange) and in the 9th, the Sox made it look not only interesting, but downright possible for a walk-off win. By bringing the winning run to the plate with David Ortiz, there were thoughts of 2004 postseason walk-off heroics. It didn't happen, just like so many other times in baseball that the averages rule out over the whimsy of hometown fan dreams. Even if I'm not really a hometown fan.

So, having AAA show up just as this was going down saved me one more fit in front of the TV and maybe helps me to learn to mellow out and take this long, crazy season a game at a time. I easily get wrapped up in overthinking the significance of each game, while discovering new string theories of expletives. Thanks, then, to AAA for getting me outside to look at my car, which might need a new alternator, might not? Is the battery toast? Who knows....A man named Tony knows and he's going to right all that is wrong with Suby-Sue (my car).

Now, if I could get Tony to work on Jacoby Ellsbury's swing and plate discipline.........

Steam escaping the ears, blood dripping from the nose...

...are just a couple of the most common symptoms of Fantasy Baseball Transient Ischemic Attack Syndrome (FBTIAS, not yet recognized by the DSM-IV or other medical journals/reference materials). This generally happens here at Team Mondesi when Gil Meche and Edwin Jackson, two of our young guns we hope to rely on for another successful year, gift-wrap us 6 and 7-inning gems only to have their real-life bullpens shit the bed. What's most interesting about this physiological disorder is that it kicks in only when the lines of reality and fantasy cross and the neurons firing for the separate purposes spark an illogical communication within the brain and triggers the mental and physical side-effects. See, the Detroit and Kansas City bullpens both blew leads after the starters (aforementioned Meche & Jackson) had shut down the opposing teams for ample inning outings. In fantasy, this only screws Team Mondesi out of a 2 in the win column. However, the fear and irrationality that leads to FBTIAS is that not only do we lose those 2 W's, but that the psychological effects on the real pitchers could impede their progress in their next starts. For more information, please refer to last night's post on Jason Motte.

Fortunately, the Red Sox and M's real bullpens have performed quite nicely in the last couple of outings.

A few hours later??? I'm kicking myself, because as a baseball fan, I should know better than to compliment the new M's bullpen before they're done BLOWING A LEAD AND THE GAME
!!! (just about midnight, punching myself in the gonads for being so stoopid)

Mere minutes away from memories.

This gentle soul, igniter of my passion for baseball, is coming up to bat 5th in the order as soon as they get underway in the Twinkie Dome.
Also, just saw the new M's commercial with Ichiro retiring the pitching machine and it is classic Mariners' commercial humor. Kudos to the writing corps at M's Marketing Headquarters!


HOLY SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTTTTTT!!!!!
Griffey just parked one above the baggy at the Metro Dome for his 612th career bomb and possibly 47th on Opening Day!! Feels like ol' times already.

Soon to be joining the ranks of the unemployed?

So, I'm not a Cardinals fan (don't dislike them either), but I just watched Jason Motte blow a 2-run lead and possible first save for my fantasy baseball team (and the real-life Cards, of course). Now, I actually got a little emotionally invested in this event and am mulling over handing Motte his pink slip from Club Mondesi (my team name is Foul Odyssey of Raul Mondesi). I'll have to talk to the General Manager and Department of Scouting first, but Motte's ass is on thin ice and I'm a blowtorch of an owner...


...and it's only Opening Day.

Gotta Love the Minor Leagues!

This was the view from my seat tonight, 9th row just to the right of behind home plate. Just awesome to be able to clearly hear the ump calling balls and strikes and the pop of the mitt and bats. The "I Cubs", as they're affectionately called here in Des Moines, ended up winning a nice little pitchers' duel 1-0. In the bottom of the 8th, Eric Patterson (any relation to Corey?) smacked a double into center that bounced off the bottom of the wall, giving him plenty of time to cruise into 2nd standing. Then up to bat comes Matt Murton, who'd I'd been texting John Baker about previous to and during the game. Baker said to tell Murton that he deserves a job in the bigs and I replied in the 5th, after a gross overswing and strikeout by Murton, that I didn't think he did deserve the job. Then, he's up in the 8th and, as a right-handed batter, aids Patterson in stealing third easily by partially blocking a quicker throw by the Oklahoma Redhawks' catcher. On the next pitch, Murton drives a single into the gap and Patterson home for the only run of the game! Oh how wrong I can be...the baseball gods love to make me look like an ass. Anyways, it was a great game and the Friday Night Fireworks were pretty cool, too. Plus, my ticket (and that great view/seat) only cost me $12!! You can't get that shit in the majors.

Manuel Aristides Ramirez

I know I'm a coupla days late posting on this, seeing as that both the Sox and A's team planes have already touched down on the US West Coast, but give me a fuckin break, I've had a flu from the Dark Ages. It doesn't matter what anybody else says about this bad man to me, I love Manny. Sure, he's a bit of a dipshit from time to time; standing in the batter's box for ages as he admires his work or tripping on nothing and landing straight on his kneecap as he nearly bungles a routine fly ball. However, he can do what the rest of us only dream night after night. And in some ungodly hour on Tuesday morning, he saved the day again, in a way only he can. By hitting a two-run double that he obviously thought was a three-run bomb, listing in the box to watch his handywork. However, once he realized it wasn't going out, he bolted up the basepaths and arrived at second base, safe, faster than I have ever seen him run. In fact, it may be faster than he thought he could run, but he covered nicely in the post-game interview by saying he's "got some speed" to get there (check video of Manny down the page through quoted link). All in all, this just gets me that much more excited for another baseball season, even if the Sox lost this morning (Manny hit a bomb though!!!)!!

Sweet Memories pt 3

Ah, Sweet Memories!!! My first game ever at Fenway Park in Boston to see the Red Sox! I was out in Beantown for a week or more to see my sister and her family, but I also bought tickets to a June game in February!!! We got shitty seats in Right Field, "Obstructed View", which is quite true and direct in Fenway, as opposed to any other ballpark I've been to. A huge steel post/stanchion stood between us and the path from the pitcher's mound to home plate, but who the fuck cares when they're witnessing their first ever game at Fenway and happen to be a rabid Sox fan?!?!?!?!!? My sister, Sabina(5 years my senior, but looks younger), has never been much of a baseball fan, but always enjoys going to a game with somebody who is into it. So, the Sox gave me a win in my only(so far) appearance at Fenway, 2-1 over the Texas Rangers, and Tim Wakefield was the starter, which means we were privileged to watch a slow-ass knuckleballer for a few innings. More than anything, for me, it was special just to be in one of baseball's sacred churches. To see a place that I have seen many times before, but only on television. There was little drama in the game, but much to be had in the stands. First off, I have never felt more of a pressing urge to fight at a ball game than at this one in particular. As my sister and I were walking to our seats, we passed a dozen or so Navy sailors, in uniform, who immediately began cat-calling at my sis'. I'm normally a pretty mellow guy, but somehow this got to me for a second. She's a Professor at a University(has a PhD and will kick your ass when it comes to Race/Politics/Society/Culture) and a mother of 5 children(not all by birth) and I just couldn't let it go like a good boy should. I didn't say anything, but gave many dirty looks and had daydreams of ripping them all a new one and lecturing them on respect for women. Anyways, overall we had a great time, including the walk home across the Charles, which freaked out a bunch of folks, because they couldn't fathom why we would walk??? I remember looking back at the grandstand light fixtures hovering above Fenway like alien ships as we ambled our way back to Cambridge, feeling as though, knowing, I had just left a special place in baseball history and culture. I hope to go back and maybe even take my sister with me again, for it is a special place...the home of the Boston Red Sox.