Computer's in the shop, delaying posts. But a Mets-Braves game from two weeks ago provided a sufficiently excellent teaching moment to comment on even now.
In a division showdown at The Ted, Johan Santana locked up with Kenshin Kawakami in a 2-0 pitchers' duel through seven frames. Santana came out after 115 crisp pitches in favor of a fresh Pedro Feliciano, who needed all of two pitches to serve up a delicious tater to Chipper Jones. Brian McCann followed with a single and Feliciano was escorted off the mound. Sean Green mixed a walk in between two outs and lefty specialist Pat Misch was brought in to face southbat Ryan Church. Whom he promptly walked.
So to recap, Johan Santana blanked the Braves for seven innings and then it took a trio of relievers to lose the shuout and load the bases .
Mets up 2-1, bottom of the eighth, bases full, two outs in a game they really need to stay in the NL East race. Would you call this a critical moment of the game? Who would you want pitching in that situation, your best reliever (and probably second-best pitcher) or your fifth best reliever, with a lifetime 5.08 ERA in 161 innings?
Jerry Manuel chose the latter because the baseball gods have decreed that a closer pitches the ninth inning, not the eighth. Or perhaps he buys into the absurd myth (I know, I know, that's redundant and repetitive) that a pitcher can get burned out getting four outs, but not three. In any case, Manuel brings in journeyman Brian Stokes and leaves Fransisco Rodriguez warming up in the bullpen with the game on the line.
Stokes fans pinch whiffer Greg Norton to preserve the lead and vindicate Manuel. But then the Mets push three across in the top of the ninth and Manuel is stuck with KRod on the hill with a lead that even the Mets' sixth best reliever could nail down. The end result is that Manuel's groupthink paralysis leaves the game in Brian Stokes's hands and relegates KRod to irrelevance.
Contrast that with Bobby Cox, who for much of the season ditched the prevailing lack of wisdom and alternated his closer and set-up guy depending on the handedness of the opponent batting order. It makes a lot more sense and never put him in a position where his 12th best pitcher was the game's fulcrum. And that kind of flexibility is the difference between a good game manager and a bad one.
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Showing posts with label relievers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relievers. Show all posts
29 July 2009
07 June 2009
Jumping Off The Lidge
Cory Wade, a second-year reliever for the Dodgers, is 0-3 with a 5.12 RA so far this year. In 19 innings he's issued 10 free passes and surrendered 21 hits. Knowing that, you wouldn't want him coming into a close game in the eighth inning if you were a Dodger fan.
Until you discover that Wade had one bad outing in which he got shelled for seven runs. Other than that, Wade's held the opposition to four runs in 18 innings, for an RA of 2.00. Maybe you do want him pitching in the eighth inning of a close game.
Thus have I illustrated the problem with small sample size, which plagues analysis of relief pitchers even from one year to the next, and which brings us to the sad, sad tale of Phillies closer Brad Lidge.
Lidge was lights out for the World Champs last year, recording 41 saves in 41 chances and limiting opponents to a 2.21 RA. (Sometimes we hear his record described as "perfect," which we all understand to be hyperbole. On several occasions, Lidge entered games with three-run cushions and made it interesting, but nonetheless got the save.) This year he's turned into Brad "Jump Off The" Lidge, blowing six of 19 save opportunities and posting a 7.20 ERA. (His RA is a bit higher, but I imposed the mercy rule and declined to calculate it.)
It seems that something dramatic has happened, either to Lidge or to batters facing him, but one thing we know it's not is fatigue. He threw all of 69 innings last year and has racked up just 25 in '09. Something not particularly dramatic has occurred too. Think of Lidge as a starter and ignore the calendar for a moment. Then you have a guy who shut down the opposition for his first 10 or so starts before getting hammered in his next four or five. Suddenly the progression of these two seasons doesn't appear so odd. Pitchers go through hot streaks and slumps just as hitters do, make adjustments, gain or lose confidence, etc. The small number of batters faced by a closer in one baseball season just isn't enough to evaluate with much degree of confidence.
This is the reason that relievers are notoriously unpredictable from one year to the next, and why guys who are consistently spectacular, like Mariano Rivera and Trevor Hoffman, are so amazing. It should also serve as a cautionary tale before we anoint some new closer with superlatives. Are you listening Heath Bell?
The former Met has been a wonderful surprise for San Diego so far this year. Striking out more than a batter an inning with a WHIP under 1.00 has led to 16 saves and a 1.61 RA, great even in Petco. But it's all been in 21 innings -- three quality starts. It's possible that no batter has yet seen Bell more than once this season. We don't draw conclusions about starters after facing 86 batters and we should be careful about it with relievers.
The larger point, of course, is that extrapolating from a fraction of a season is a fool's errand. That's true to start a season, during the stretch run, in the playoffs, after an injury, or around the discovery of steroid use. The vagaries of luck and human psychology can transform a player's performance during any short stretch into something historic. But it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Just ask Cory Wade.
b
Until you discover that Wade had one bad outing in which he got shelled for seven runs. Other than that, Wade's held the opposition to four runs in 18 innings, for an RA of 2.00. Maybe you do want him pitching in the eighth inning of a close game.
Thus have I illustrated the problem with small sample size, which plagues analysis of relief pitchers even from one year to the next, and which brings us to the sad, sad tale of Phillies closer Brad Lidge.
Lidge was lights out for the World Champs last year, recording 41 saves in 41 chances and limiting opponents to a 2.21 RA. (Sometimes we hear his record described as "perfect," which we all understand to be hyperbole. On several occasions, Lidge entered games with three-run cushions and made it interesting, but nonetheless got the save.) This year he's turned into Brad "Jump Off The" Lidge, blowing six of 19 save opportunities and posting a 7.20 ERA. (His RA is a bit higher, but I imposed the mercy rule and declined to calculate it.)
It seems that something dramatic has happened, either to Lidge or to batters facing him, but one thing we know it's not is fatigue. He threw all of 69 innings last year and has racked up just 25 in '09. Something not particularly dramatic has occurred too. Think of Lidge as a starter and ignore the calendar for a moment. Then you have a guy who shut down the opposition for his first 10 or so starts before getting hammered in his next four or five. Suddenly the progression of these two seasons doesn't appear so odd. Pitchers go through hot streaks and slumps just as hitters do, make adjustments, gain or lose confidence, etc. The small number of batters faced by a closer in one baseball season just isn't enough to evaluate with much degree of confidence.
This is the reason that relievers are notoriously unpredictable from one year to the next, and why guys who are consistently spectacular, like Mariano Rivera and Trevor Hoffman, are so amazing. It should also serve as a cautionary tale before we anoint some new closer with superlatives. Are you listening Heath Bell?
The former Met has been a wonderful surprise for San Diego so far this year. Striking out more than a batter an inning with a WHIP under 1.00 has led to 16 saves and a 1.61 RA, great even in Petco. But it's all been in 21 innings -- three quality starts. It's possible that no batter has yet seen Bell more than once this season. We don't draw conclusions about starters after facing 86 batters and we should be careful about it with relievers.
The larger point, of course, is that extrapolating from a fraction of a season is a fool's errand. That's true to start a season, during the stretch run, in the playoffs, after an injury, or around the discovery of steroid use. The vagaries of luck and human psychology can transform a player's performance during any short stretch into something historic. But it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Just ask Cory Wade.
b
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