NL MVP: Like Pizza for Thanksgiving

I have two words for you on the NL MVP race: context matters. 

If it didn't, the 2011 resumes of Matt Kemp and Ryan Braun would be nearly indistinguishable. Consider them side by side:

Braun: .332/.397/.597, 33 homers and 33 of 39 steals. 

Kemp: .324/.399/.586, 39 homers and 40 of 51 steals.

Now consider the context:

1. Braun plays in a neutral park for hitting. Kemp plays in a ravine.
2. Braun is cocooned in the batting order in front of the #3 MVP candidate, Prince Fielder (.981 OPS) and slugger Corey Hart (.868 OPS), and behind Rickie Weeks  (.818). Kemp swims alone in a vast ocean. There's not another .800 OPS wearing blue, and besides Andre Ethier, no one's even close.

In context, Kemp was a slightly better offensive force in 2011. That might not be enough for some voters to compensate for Braun's role as best player on a division-winning team. But here are two more words:

Defense matters.

Here's two more:

A lot.

Matt Kemp is a good fielder in the most critical outfield position, centerfield. Ryan Braun is not just a butcher, but a baker and candlestick maker in left field -- or wherever the Brews attempt to hide him. He reminds me of a woman on my co-ed softball team named Judy K. We called her Special K and played her behind the right fielder in an attempt to make her invisible. It wasn't necessary -- whenever the ball flew her way she vacated the space.

So Matt Kemp and Ryan Braun were both timed at 10 seconds in their leg of the 4x100-meter dash, but Kemp had to cover an extra five meters into a headwind and never drops the baton. It's kind of a chasm. Baseball Reference, which is actually pretty kind to Braun defensively, says Kemp was worth 10 wins compared to a replacement player; Braun was worth 7.7 wins. Two-point-three wins is a huge difference -- just ask the Braves and Red Sox. It surpasses the entire value of the Cubs' Carlos Pena, who pounded 28 jacks and had an .819 OPS.

Matt Kemp is the NL MVP regardless of how middling was the team around him or that he led the NL in RBIs. Braun, Fielder, Jose Reyes and Troy Tulowitzki all merit consideration -- in the same way that pizza merits consideration on Thanksgiving. It's a delicious choice generally speaking, but not in this case.
b

Fifty Million Cheese Steaks

The stathead universe is all atwitter (in some cases literally) over Ruben Amaro's latest contract monstrosity. The Phillies GM has thrown 50 million cheese steaks at Jonathan Papelbon for four years of closing. 

Clearly, this kind of fiscal frivolity is a sign of the apocalypse. No relief pitcher is "worth" $50 million for pitching 60 innings-a-year, even 60 high leverage innings. Moreover, there is no more fickle bird than the closer. The Phillies know this all too well, having spotted Brad Lidge $38 million for three years during a stellar 2008 season only to watch him disassemble in '09 and '10. Over the contract's three years, Lidge rewarded the Phillies with a 1-11, 5.08 RA and 59 saves in 124 innings, with four trips to the DL as a special bonus.

Papelbon has been the second or third best closer in the majors over the last five years (16-16, 1.88 RA and 184 saves in 268 innings, plus a sterling 5.3 K/BB ratio). He's 31, the same age at which Lidge began his figurative journey south, but a different kind of pitcher who can withstand losing a tick or two on his fastball without heinous damage.

The larger point is that the Phils are all in for 2012 and maybe 2013. There's no point in crashing one of baseball's all-time great starting staffs on the shoals of Antonio Bastardo closing. (Man, that name is the gift that keeps on giving.) Inasmuch as every team over-values closers, the market has been set around where the Phils paid, so if they want a great closer, that's what it takes.

Could someone else -- say the A's -- produce a nearly-equal closer out of smoke for a-tenth of the price? Sure, but the Phils don't want the best value. They want the best player. They want a World Championship. That's why they eschewed a $44 million deal with Ryan Madson, the incumbent Philadelphia closer.

That's what separates the big revenue teams from the small ones. Small revenue teams set a spending limit and recognize that there's an opportunity cost to each acquisition. Teams like NYY, Boston and Philly pay what it costs to assemble the best club. And that's what Rueben Amaro is trying to do.

b

AL MVP: Pay No Attention to Runs Scored and RBIs

One of the meaty questions entering the 2011 season was how much of his 2010 slugging value Jose Bautista could maintain. The 31-year-old Dominican went from '02 Hyundai to '11 Lexus in his seventh Major League season, pacing the majors with 54 home runs and leaving the Blue Jays to wonder whether a bucket of bolts or a racing car would return for the following year.

Bautista answered that by losing 11 home runs, 21 RBIs . . . and playing even better. He again led the circuit with 43 dingers, raised his batting average 45 points to .305, reached safely a Bondsian 44.7% of the time and terrified the opposition into a league-leading 24 intentional walks. His MLB-tops 1.055 OPS was impressive even for a right-fielder, but Bautista also spotted up at his natural position -- third base -- for 25 games.

Some will cluck at the Blue Jays' win total and Bautista's relatively subdued R and RBI totals (105 and 103), but all three depend on teammates. Bautista knocked himself in more times than anyone else, and he contributed no less to his team's pitching efforts (Toronto was 25th in the majors) than any other everyday player on the MVP ballot. Baseball Reference says Joey Bats provided 8.1 offensive wins, decent defense, and some lineup flexibility because of his aptitude at two positions.

The only real knock against Bautista is that he committed all his mayhem in the first half, tapping out just 12 home runs and a .442 SLG in the final 81 games.

Bautista's top competitor with the bat is Miguel Cabrera. Miggy led the league in hitting (.344) and OBP (.448), and posted a second-best OPS of 1.033, but had all the mobility of a beanbag chair on the bases and at the least-important defensive position. Tie goes to the good-glove third baseman, and it's not even a tie. Baseball Reference says Cabrera's within half a win of offensive value to Bautista, but drops another win behind when considering defense.

Boston's Jacoby Ellsbury is also worth mentioning. After an injury-riddled 2010 and deep concerns about his centerfield defense, the 27-year-old Oregonian nearly doubled his career totals in doubles and RBI and smashed 32 home runs, 12 more than in his previous four years combined. His .321/.376/.552 can't hold a candle to the above-mentioned, but at his position, Ellsbury was nearly as irreplaceable. Nevertheless, even accounting for his position and his refined glovework (much better routes on flyballs), Ellsbury is an honorable mention candidate.

(Ironically, Ellsbury's best season by far came at the price of his greatest gift. After swiping 136 bases in 3+ seasons and failing just 24 times, an 85% success rate, his steals total dropped in 2011 to 39 at a 72% rate.)

Two other candidates will be named by the ignorenti. Curtis Granderson posted gaudy runs scored and RBI totals thanks to a stacked Yankee lineup, and his team won the division. He plays a fair center field too. But at .262/.364/.552, the Grandy Man might not even be the MVP of his team (that honor might belong to Robby Cano).

Then there's the elephant in the room: Justin Verlander. I've already paid homage to the AL King of the Hill, but pitchers have their own award and comparing them to everyday players is an apples-to-giraffes enterprise. That explains why the seamheads can't get their stories straight on the Bautista-Verlander matchup: Baseball Reference says it's a tossup; Baseball Prospectus rates Bautista more than two wins better. 

There's another player who merits mention, even though he's not an MVP candidate. The World Series brought Mike Napoli into national focus, but he smacked the ball around all season.  In just 113 games, the C/1B/DH/ pounded 25 doubles and 30 homers, batted .320 and posted a 1.045 OPS. He presented himself at the plate just 432 times, but still managed to accrue six wins of value. He accomplished all this pillowed in the comfort of the Rangers' lineup and The Ballpark in Arlington, so take it all with a grain of salt, but a full season of that would have inserted him into the MVP discussion.

Bottom line: give the Cy to Verlander and the MVP to Bautista and all's right with the American League.

b

Royals Win First of the Year

The Kansas City Royals and San Francisco Giants consummated a trade this week in which, not withstanding the relocation of a minor leaguer, each relinquished and received the exact same thing. But the Royals won the trade.

KC sent centerfielder Melky Cabrera to the Bay for fireballer Jonathan Sanchez. Both players enter their walk years. Each will be easily replaced by the club that sent him packing -- Cabrera by a ripe prospect and Sanchez by a stacked rotation. Each has mad skills but frustrated managers.

Cabrera, at 27, comes off his best year thanks mostly to a .305 batting average. Sanchez, 29 comes off another confounding season in which his high heat was too high nearly as often as it was too hot. Each has been a below average performer most of his career, but has shown one season's flash of excellence.

Here's the difference: hitters tend to be what they are, only more so as they reach their late 20s/early 30s. With pitchers, the career arc is so much less predictable. Sanchez is more likely to flame out than Cabrera, but he's also more likely to find himself and hurl KC up the ladder to mediocrity. Which would you rather have: a fourth outfielder (on a team of fourth outfielders) who's two clicks above replacement level or a pitcher who's equally likely to be tossed mid-season as to mow down batters Cy Young-style?

That's not to say that SF GM Brian Sabean shouldn't have made the deal. He got something of non-zero value for an expendable part. But his KC counterpart, Dayton Moore, lived up to his surname.

b

In the Land of Ver, the Three-Armed Man is Runner-up

It will come as no surprise to you, nor even to the nation's baseball writers association, that Justin Verlander was the best pitcher in the American League this year.

Verlander pitched more innings, won more games, had a better winning percentage, threw more quality starts, had a lower ERA, struck out more batters, had a better K/BB ratio, allowed a lower WHIP, produced a higher VORP & WARP, contributed more good sound bites and helped more little old ladies across the street than any other Junior Circuit hurler. According to Baseball Reference, Verlander was worth 30% more to the Tigers (8.6 wins against replacement) than the league's next best pitcher (Jered Weaver) was to the Angels (6.6 WARP).

The baseball writers could not have an easier choice unless Michele Bachmann squares off against my cat for president. (Tater in '12!)

This yawning chasm is no affront to Weaver. A marvelous performer with an 82-47, 3.31 lifetime line for the Halos, Weaver delivered 58% better results than league average this year, accumulating an 18-8, 2.41 line. He whiffed three-and-a-half times as many batters as he walked, and held opponents to seven hits per game. 

It's just that in the land of Ver, that's the warm-up act. The Tiger righty went 25-4, 2.40, whiffed nearly four-and-a-half times as many batters as he walked and held opponents to six hits per game. He delivered 70% better results than league average.

So let's get this one out of the way first, because the AL Cy Young vote is more old-style Libyan than new style. The result is entirely predictable and the winner will get between 99% and 100% of the vote.

b

If A Series Goes Extras and the TV is Off . . .

The 2011 World Series was one for the ages. 

At least that's what everyone tells me. Most of the drama happened after my bedtime.

That's probably why I was such a humbugger when it ended. When I hit the sack after the 7th inning of Game Six, the Rangers were up 7-4. I never saw the tying fireworks. Or the overtime heroics. Or the winning homer. Never heard Joe Buck's call for the ages.

Hearing about it later is no substitute. I didn't experience the drama. I went to work the next day rested, instead.

Absent that one night, STL-TEX isn't even noteworthy, much less among the great ones. 1960: Maz's home run. 1967: Gibson over the Red Sox, 1968: Lolich and the Tigers beat Gibson. 1975: Fisk's home run not enough. 1979: We Are Family comes back from 3-1. 1986: the Mets storm back. 1991: A 10-inning, 1-0 Game Seven caps the greatest World Series of all time. 2001: D-backs dramatically foil NY's 9/11 victory. (The great ones of the first 55 years escape my worldview.) Since so many of us didn't see the Game Six pyrotechnics, it really didn't feel all that special. Wait, sounds like humbugging again.

On the other hand, no manager has produced the post-Series drama Tony LaRussa uncorked this year. Good for him. His ticket to Cooperstown has 2016 written on it.

b

On the Ep Swing

Dear, dear benighted Cub fans. Your ship has indeed come in. But don't expect the riches to disembark just yet.

Newly-hired team president Theo Epstein and his minions are the real deal. Freed from the shackles of penury, Jed Hoyer will provide a bonanza to Chicago. Whoever is hired, the new manager will share the winning philosophy that the Epstein team plants at Wrigley. Brains, patience and money are a potent combination and they are in abundance on the North side.

The challenge facing them, besides 29 other teams intent on success at their expense, is the current  team composition. Epstein takes over a franchise laden with useless baggage that can't be thrown overboard -- at least not at a dear cost. Previous owners and management signed outrageous deals with cartoon characters whose actual baseball value is nil or less.

Take Alfonso Soriano. Please. The previous Cub administration took one look at his speed and power, and his one good year in Washington (.277/.351/.560 with 41 of 58 steals and improved outfield defense) and bestowed upon him an eight-year $133 million contract that he wasn't worth even if paid in Monopoly money. That deal has $54 million left as Soriano enters his baseball dotage. He hasn't been a factor on the basepaths in three years, plays the outfield as if he's searching for a lost contact lens and has a .308 on-base percentage over the last three seasons. For their $57 million, the Cubs have gotten two wins over a replacement player total since 2009. And they're in for worse.

Soriano is emblematic of the Cubs' problem. Only two of their 2011 starters took more walks than Ironside. Their team on-base percentage was a meager .314, despite playing in the (hitter-) friendly confines. For $39 million, the Cubs got .262/.323/.418 out of their outfield trio of Soriano, Marlon Byrd and Kosuke Fukudome. (They swapped Fuku to Cleveland for a pair of farmhands in July.) The new management team may preach patience at the plate, but 36-year-olds who earn 27 free passes in 500 at-bats aren't suddenly morphing into Jason Giambi.

For another $32+ million, Ryan Dempster and Carlos Zambrano delivered a combined ERA 20% worse than league average, plus a combined TTA (temper tantrums per annum) of 4.0. (No thanks to Dempster on that one.)

The Cubs are stuck with all of the above-mentioned, except Fuku, and will either lose their best player, Aramis Ramirez, to free agency, or empty the bank to keep him. First-baseman Carlos Pena's contract has also expired, conveniently paving the way for a big free agent signing splash. Epstein starts the Hot Stove season with a $93 million payroll before half the roster is filled. And without Fukudome, Ramirez and Pena, only two of the 11 remaining batters with 100 plate appearances had OBPs above .325, and none is above .350.

So the OBP problem will not be solved overnight. The flotsam and jetsam will take at least a year to clear out. Unless Big Z stands for Zoloft, he's going to continue to plague the clubhouse. And no matter the skipper, an organizational transformation takes more than one year. The immediate forecast is bleak, but have no doubt, the ship of state finally has a working navigation system and a captain and crew who know which way to steer.
b

Bollocks to Moneyball

Upon his retirement, Tony LaRussa, a successful innovator and sure-fire Hall of Famer, "ridiculed 'Moneyball' and its emphasis on statistics over human scouting and observation" according to the Associated Press.

Critics have smiled on Moneyball, the movie, but LaRussa has described why I was uneasy about the book and have no plans to see the film.

Moneyball, the book, cast statheads as cowboys and scouts as Indians (feather, not dot or Cleveland varieties). The analogy is apt because the relationships are far more messy and complicated. Scouts, like seamheads, are necessary but insufficient for the proper functioning of a Major League baseball franchise.

The real debate was never between stats and scouts, it was between useful stats and misleading stats. That's why the St. Louis Cardinals employ number-crunchers, just as every MLB team does, to help reveal some of the game's hidden insights. Over the years, new analysis has exploded long-held myths, including Larussa's signature creation, the folly of saving your best reliever for ninth-inning mop-up when you could employ him to put out fires in other innings. Maybe that's why LaRussa is sore.

Or maybe he's sick of the false dichotomy. LaRussa knows better than Bill James' personal guru how Matt Holliday feels today or whether Chris Carpenter can go on short rest or if John Jay can be relied on to drop a bunt. Team number crunchers have a better handle on the general efficacy of a bunt in a given situation.

In fact, LaRussa has been most renowned for his pitching match-ups, a strategy fully infused with both scouting and stats. The guy with the binoculars on LaRussa's left shoulder whispers that the opposing batter hates the high heat thrown by the righty in the pen. The SABR dude on his right shoulder notes that the batter has a .650 OPS against southpaws in day games. LaRussa's particular genius was to be open to surprising information, synthesize it and act on it.

Moneyball correctly cast Billy Beane and his band of mavericks as explorers who had found new worlds and were benefiting from the small competitive advantages they conveyed. There is absolutely no question that statistical research can unlock mysteries and disprove old customs in the game, though those advantages are becoming more nuanced and less impactful as the practice has become widespread. Likewise, there's no doubt that observation can reveal nuances unnoticed by the statistics. But unlike stats, observation can be corrupted by human psychology -- things like confirmation bias and cognitive dissonance -- that has no power over the null hypothesis or a two-tailed test.

Here's a World Series example of the two at work: Mid-year, this blog noted the amazing performance of young Ranger starter Alexi Ogando, who twirled a 9-3, 2.92 line with a .591 OPS-against. Spectacular, but with a .241 BABIP and some other component statistics pointing the wrong way, I suggested a decline was in order. Furthermore, Ogando had reached his professional career high for innings by July. The Rangers  noted this, not to mention his 4-5, 4.48 performance in the second half, and downgraded him to the pen, where innings aren't so readily available.

A statmonger could guess that Ogando was gassed. I'm betting that keen observers like LaRussa and his staff could see it. In any case, the Cards feasted on Ogando for 14 baserunners and four runs in only seven outs. (To be fair, he was great in 9.2 innings of AL playoff service.)

The bottom line is that teams fare best when statisticians and scouts respect and rely on each other for confirmation of what they believe they've found. It's time to forget the false dichotomy perpetrated by Moneyball and just accept stats and scouts for what they are. 

b

Cardinal Sins

A riveting World Series, no doubt. So why does it seem like such an anti-climax?

The postseason certainly didn't determine the best team in baseball: the Cards were outplayed over 162 games by three other teams in the National League alone, and by another five (you could argue six or seven in the superior AL) on the other side of the standings. What they won was the playoff lottery, where eight good teams start almost completely from scratch (the best teams do get a minuscule home field edge, until the championship) playing a tournament that rewards them for different strengths than the regular season through which they qualified.

The unintended consequence of this expanded playoff system is a serious dilution of the once-sacrosanct 162-game schedule. With two excellent months out of seven, St. Louis qualified for the tournament and then survived it. Conversely, six months of dominance in New York, Philadelphia, Milwaukee and Dallas disappeared in puffs of playoff series smoke.

Given the current structure of baseball finances combined with the current playoff format, the World Series offers us three options, two of them unsatisfying:

1. Teams with considerable financial advantages buy the best players and march to the dogpile. Blecch.

2. Uninspiring outfits that stand atop the lowest division pile, or squeak in as Wild Card after-thoughts, put it together for three weeks and wear the crown. Blecch.

3. Franchises struggling with conflicting financial priorities like everyone else produce deserving squads that rise to the top and claim the championship. Yay.

For the second time in five years, Tony LaRussa's group planted its flag in option two and left an empty feeling in the rest of us. Only twice in those five years (Phils and Giants) has MLB finished its long half-year ride with a champion that could claim a)superiority and b)accomplishment unstained by a playing field tilting in its favor.

That's not to say we didn't learn some things in this series. We learned that Ron Washington, is a wonderful guy and excellent motivator who enjoys the respect of his players. We also learned that the in-game decision-making required in a World Series are beyond his capability, at least as currently constituted. Wash left a series of gaffes on the field that could have cost his team. He played his MVP at 50% effectiveness (.241/.258/.414 with limited mobility on the bases and in the field), which simply wasn't sufficient. He batted his best hitter seventh (Mike Napoli, .375/.500/.813), costing him at-bats during the series. He generally failed to take advantage of Lance Berkman's extreme platoon splits (1.010 OPS vs. righties; .744 vs. lefties), and he underutilized super-reliever Mike Adams, who'd treated MLB hitters of both leagues like his playthings over the past two years prior to the World Series. 

Washington's mismanagement rose to the fore in Games Six and Seven (or maybe that's when I noticed them.) As I've already documented, the pivotal moment in Game Six passed him by without notice because it arrived in the fifth inning. The rest of that evening's heroics could have thus been avoided. He left Nelson Cruz in the field in the ninth and was rewarded with Cruz's imitation of a wounded stork on the dramatic Freese "triple" that tied the score. In Game 7 he left Matt Harrison in well after his ineffectiveness had been duly demonstrated, though it's not as if his relievers acquitted themselves any better. 

In all, defense and relief pitching -- the most unheralded parts of the game -- carried the Cardinals to victory. Hail to them, but woe is our game, particularly if they add yet more less-deserving teams to the playoff stew.

b

Waiting for Godot to Bat

Game Six and Ron Washington succumbed to closer fever, albeit in another form.

In the top of the fifth, Wash sent starter Colby Lewis to the plate with a bat in his hand. Lewis's middling pitching performance (three runs due to ragged defense on two hits in four innings) had been enough to secure a 4-3 lead when his turn in the order came up.

At that point, with two days' rest and no more than one game remaining, Wash eschewed a pinch hitter, saving him for a key situation. The problem is, he was looking at the key situation.

It was only the fifth inning, but the bases were loaded with two outs in a one-run game. Lewis, who bunted into a double play his first time up, gave the Rangers virtually no chance of extending their lead. Possible pinch hitter, Yorvit Torrealba, hit .273/.306/.399 this year, vastly improving the odds of Texas busting the game open. The moment Ron Washington planned to wait for was staring him in the face and he missed it.

Of course, hitting for the pitcher would  end Colby Lewis's night prematurely and force Washington to seek bullpen help. So? The pen would never be in better shape. After two days off, only tomorrow's starter, Matt Harrison, would be unavailable.

As I write this, it's still 4-3 in the middle innings. But if the Cardinals go ahead, Washington's decision is going to loom very large. He passed up a chance to put the game out of reach in favor of another inning or two from a starter whose performance was easily fungible.

Why "the closer effect?" Because managers are so hidebound about using their closers only in the ninth, they blow opportunities to shut down the opposition when the game is actually on the line. Though not the same, this mistake was analogous and could conceivably cost the Rangers the championship.
b

Thank You Joe Torre

Even if it had never rained yesterday, and St. Louis had suddenly baked to 70 degrees, the commissioner made the right move to postpone Game Six of the World Series.

Adding a day to the season is not the worst case scenario; it's a minor inconvenience. The worst case scenario is playing a potential deciding game of the championship in weather more befitting penguins than Cardinals. (Or maybe that's "Penguins," since it's one Pittsburgh team that does occasionally play for titles.)

Once a game starts, postponing it is a major disruption. First, some of the game gets played in miserable conditions. Second, it has to be delayed for an hour or two before it gets called, leaving fans in attendance stuck waiting and fans watching on TV scratching their heads. Resuming the game means it doesn't end until the gloaming, if at all. Temperatures have not generally been known to pick such an occasion to spring back to the comfort zone.

Calling the game hours in advance gave everyone a chance to move on with their lives for one day. On Thursday, we'll return to putting the world on hold so we can attend to our holy ritual. Thank you Joe Torre and Bud Selig.

b

Winning Game Eight Won't Help

Here we go again. With the Cardinals' win in Game One and then Game Three of the World Series, reporters universally rolled out their time-honored and utterly fatuous analysis of how game wins affect Series victory.

Yes we know, the Game One winner ends the season in a dogpile most of the time. Ditto for the Game Three victor. As you already know if you visit this space, the winner of any game in the Series more often takes home the title.

The simple truth is that teams that win the World Series win most of the games. Duh. If the eventual champs sweep, they win every game. (Duh 2.) If they need six games to secure the title, they still win two-thirds of the contests. (Still duh.)

So yeah, the winner of Game Anything wins most of the time. Consider this: the Game Seven victor takes the Commissioner's Trophy 100% of the time. The statement is so patently obvious that analysts refrain from mentioning it for fear of looking like morons. But they appear unable to exercise similar self-control (actually, it's similar insight they lack) with the other games.

Why didn't we hear this about Game Two? Because the Rangers tied the Series, so there didn't seem to be an advantage.

Here's the point: this is a wholly retrospective analysis, not predictive in the least. That the Cardinals won Game Three doesn't suggest they'll win the Series; teams that won the Series in previous years generally won Game Three. And Four and Five and Six.

b

World Series Scouts and Stats

I hope the fundamentalist seamheads have been watching the playoffs and World Series. The results have been the perfect elixir for SABR  arrogance. At the same time, every game watched by ordinary fans further burnishes sabermetric credentials.

For one thing, several of the series have been almost entirely determined by defense. One could make a good case -- to which I would subscribe -- that the key difference in the NLCS was defensive. The Brewers were sloppy and sluggish in the field; the Cardinals were crisp. Although little of that was captured in the ordinary defensive statistics, not much more could be with the newest wave of defensive measurements, which really require large samples to mean anything.

In the World Series, the winner of each one-run game was the superior defensive squad. In Game One, Albert Pujols and Chris Carpenter took hits away from Ranger batters while Nelson Cruz slid in exactly the worst way and allowed the winning hit to drop. By dropping to the ground legs first he put his glove the longest distance from the ball and failed to catch it. Had he dived, or perhaps even just reached down, he would have at least reached the ball.

In Game Two, the double play combo of Ian Kinsler and Elvis Andrus slickly quenched a couple of Cardinal rallies before the Rangers finally put their own shrimp on the barbie, with help from Prince Albert's mild mishandling of an outfield throw. Pujols was charged with an error hours after the game's conclusion, but only because it could be understood retrospectively to have aided in the winning run scoring one batter later. It's doubtful that an error would have been charged in a regular season game. Likewise, there is no sabermetric measurement of how the play unfolded, with Elvis Andrus scooting to second on a single that put Ian Kinsler on third with none out and set the stage for a couple of flies to right winning the game.

Much has been made of Tony LaRussa's endless machinations in these games, simultaneously crediting him with genius and blaming him for losses. In fact, LaRussa deserves neither, though he's a lot closer to the former. Specifically, many are wondering why he replaced closer Jason Motte in the ninth inning of Game 2 with antediluvian reliever Arthur Rhodes. The LOOGY Rhodes came in to face lefty Josh Hamilton who swatted the game-tying sac fly. Rhodes came out in favor of Lance Lynn, who "allowed" Michael Young's game winning flyout.

Without going into the details of the move, which seemed perfectly justified to me, judging a managerial decision by its outcome is folly. If we knew the outcomes of our decisions in advance, we'd always make the right one, except perhaps if we're Lindsay Lohan. Instead, it's the skipper's job to improve the odds of his team winning, not to certainty, and often, not even to 50%. It's easy to forget that with second and third and no one out, the average run expectancy is . . . two runs.  (That is, sometimes the pitcher will lock down, sometimes he'll limit the opposition to one run, sometimes both runners will score and sometimes more runners will get on base and add to the total that inning. On average, the offense plated 1.8926 runners in 2011.) So LaRussa was facing long odds no matter what he did in that situation. Whatever the stats say about how Jason Motte, Arthur Rhodes and Lance Lynn have performed in the past, LaRussa is paid to know more than we do about how they might perform in that moment.

Ron Washington faced the same Game One critique for ordering a free pass to Nick Punto with a runner in scoring position and two outs, in order to bring the pitcher to the plate. Punto is a .249/.325/.327 lifetime hitter unlikely to plate Lance Berkman from second, so the walk could be seen as "wasting" Chris Carpenter's at bat. (Carp fanned fecklessly for the third out.) Again, Wash is paid to know his players, and the opposition's too. Perhaps Punto's .292/.388/.421 this year gave Washington sufficient pause to sacrifice the free out that Carpenter would have represented in the next inning.

One thing a seamhead could tell you is why Nelson Cruz crushed Tiger pitching and can't buy a hit in the Series. Cruz is a fastball hitter; turning around Justin Verlander's 100 mph offering is like kicking puppies for him. But St. Louis starters mix it up more, which is less to Cruz's liking. The Cardinals also seem to have a feel for Josh Hamilton's groin (groan!); he's clearly been unable to chase pitches away, particularly in hockey weather, so that has been where Cardinal hurlers been going with him.

We'll see if things change after a day of rest and and a trip south to Texas. The bottom line so far has been a clear indication of why teams need scouts and stats and why managers and general managers have to know the strengths and weaknesses of both.

b

World Series Prediction

Hey sportswriters: you can write about the morose TV ratings for the World Series the same day you tout your dwindling circulation. I don't care who won't be watching the World Series; I'll be watching and that's all that matters to me.

Here's another tip for sportscasters, sportswriters and assorted analysts: stop "handicapping" the World Series. it doesn't matter what characteristics each team has; there's no guaranteeing they will come to the fore in a short series against an unfamiliar opponent in bad weather at the end of 180 games of play. 

The Rangers can bash, but that doesn't mean that they won't bat .142 with two homers in a six game stretch. Chris Carpenter and Jaime Garcia can pitch, but they've each scuffled through two bad outings before and might do it again. Albert Pujols and Josh Hamilton are former MVPs, but David Freese and Nelson Cruz could steal their thunder. You just never know.

In the end, no one can possibly make an informed prediction about the outcome. St. Louis got to the series with rejuvenated starting pitching in the NLDS. In the championship round, their rotation came uncorked and had to get bailed out by a suddenly transcendent relief corps. Who had that parlay? Texas pounded Justin Verlander and couldn't solve Doug Fister. Go figure.

So spare us the empty predictions. No matter what you guess you're wrong, even if the outcome is correct. Because any suggestion that the result can be fore-ordained is inherently wacky.

That said, I'm pretty sure my Nationals will not be hoisting any trophies this year.

b

Cards Make Aces of the Oddsmakers

And so, the most improbable of all teams heads to the World Series. The St. Louis Cardinals are the most successful team in National League history with 10 World Championships and 18 World Series appearances, including the title four years ago. Nonetheless, as the last team to qualify for the playoffs, the odds against them were considerable. Behold:

• The Cards were down 10.5 games with just 30 games left.
• They faced the best team in baseball in the NLDS, the team with an historically great pitching staff. 
• They had to win the deciding game on the road against the best pitcher in the game.
• The Phillies outscored St. Louis in the NLDS.
• In the NLCS, the Cards had to face the team that outdistanced them for the division title. 
• The Brewers enjoyed the home field advantage after winning the most games at home during the season, but the Cardinals won two of four games in Milwaukee.
• Cardinal starters got drubbed, lasting just 24 frames over six games in the NLCS. They pitched to a 7.03 ERA despite superb defensive support.
• The MVP of the series was -- Albert Pujols? Matt Holiday? Lance Berkman? Yadier Molina? No -- number seven hitter David Freese, who slugged three home runs and tallied a 545/.600/1.091 batting line. Freese is no Al Weiss, but he got into the lineup just 97 times this year, producing an impressive .761 OPS at third base.

As incumbent AL Champs, the Rangers will be favored in the World Series, but not by much. St. Louis gets home field advantage thanks to -- of all people -- Prince Fielder, the All-Star MVP. The Rangers have more balance at the plate and on the mound, though Tony LaRussa made clear how irrelevant that can be in a short series.

b

What Does Jim Leyland Know and When Does He Know It?

Jose Valverde locked down 49 wins in 49 save opportunities this year, limiting opponents to a .470 OPS and 0.55 runs per nine. That's "Adele's singing voice" spectacular.

In non-save situations, he lost four times, allowed a .777 OPS and 6.95 runs per nine. That's "my dad's singing voice" painful.

It would seem that Valverde is one of those rare guys who needs the pressure cooker in order to thrive. He can't handle uncertainty. If he knows three outs ends the game, he's the best reliever in the league. Without that certainty, he can't make the 25-man roster.

Knowing this, Jim Leyland's move to order up his closer in the 10th inning of Game 4 with the score knotted at three was a head-scratcher.  Predictably, the result was something more dramatic. A walk, two hits and a grand slam later, the Rangers defeated Valverde's Tigers 7-3 to take a three games-to-one lead in the ALCS.

This is exactly the value add that a good manager should be bringing to the ballpark. He knows who's been practicing his bunting, who's secretly injured, who doesn't like to bat in cold weather, who gets amped playing in his hometown and who gets anxious. And whose head gets turned around in extra frames.

I wonder about Leyland's decision to play Alex Avila too. Something's wrong with his star catcher. I assume he's hurt, but whatever it is, he's batting .081 with a .290 OPS and 15 strikeouts in 40 plate appearances this postseason, even including Thursday night's dinger. He's swinging at pitches that land in Ontario. He's late on change-ups. Give the poor guy a break, Jim.

Leyland's lineup construction has also come under some fire. In Game 3, he batted light-hitting Don Kelly fifth and deep threat Jhonny Peralta sixth and against righty Colby Lewis. Kelly swings lefty, but Peralta's splits against right-handers are actually better than against lefties and far better than Kelly's. The result was that cleanup hitter Victor Martinez had no protection in the lineup, particularly when a lefty reliever entered the game.

I can see why players love Jim Leyland. He's honest and up-front with the guys. He has their back. He hugs them or tongue-lashes them, depending on what they need. But in-game decisions are part of the game too, and I haven't seen a lot of mastery there.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The team with the best home record in baseball returns to their Milwaukee lair needing one win to force a deciding game. Sounds like anyone's series to me. This is what my newspaper calls "Cardinals on verge of clinching." 

Three-oh, you're on the verge of clinching. Three-two, no. You've got an edge.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At the risk of tooting the Braindrizzling horn, Doug Fister and Mike Napoli are a pair of playoff stars touted during the season for their unheralded value. Napoli in particular was excoriated for his defensive deficiencies, but he has made some nice plays from the backstop position and embarrassed Miguel Cabrera on a play at the plate. 

Cabrera, out by two bases on a sacrifice fly, attempted to bowl Napoli over. The catcher responded by squatting and rolling back over the plate, leaving Cabrera to punch at air and flop on his face while being tagged out.

Napoli's 1.046 OPS (71% better than league average) at catcher, first base and DH speaks for itself. It's literally true that taking Napoli off the Angles and adding him to the Rangers gave Texas the division and left Anaheim out of the playoffs.
b

Maybe He Likes Sellout Crowds

Much is being made today of Colby Lewis's shiny playoff doodads: 4-0, 1.67 with a .155 BA against. The obvious conclusion is that Lewis thrives in the high-stakes environment of the postseason.

Had Lewis gone 4-0 1.67 in July, no one would have taken any notice, or assigned any personal characteristics to his streak. But let's suppose that Lewis's performance in four games means something.

It's exciting to think that the spotlight thaws some psyches and melts others. It adds intrigue and allows us to assign ordinary strengths and weaknesses to players whose abilities are beyond our comprehension. Undoubtedly, there are a few players who are actually so affected. My guess is: precious few.


Believing that every particularly strong or weak playoff performance is a function of psychology requires ignoring these not unimportant facts:

1. Playoff games are all played after a full 162-game schedule. Some players might be tired. Or hurt. Others, recovered.
2. Playoff games are often played in cold weather. Different players respond differently to cold.
3. Playoff games are disproportionally played in inclement weather that would postpone games in June. Some guys hate playing in rain.
4. Playoff games are all played against good teams. Players who feast on weak teams won't fare well.
5. Playoff games are important. Some guys are 100% focused all the time and gain no advantage during the postseason. Others might bear down more.

No one has ever suggested that Colby Lewis likes rain or focuses better against good teams or builds strength at the end of the season. (Cold weather wouldn't have much impact on Lewis. Three of his four starts prior to tonight were in Tampa and Dallas.) These are all as plausibly true and as unprovable as the "clutch" assumption, but they are dismissed without being considered.

As long as baseball "analysts" are allowed to spout cock-eyed theories without being required to support them with evidence or defend them against contradictory data, we'll continue to hear this dreck. Next time you hear it, at least yell at your TV, "Bull! Prove it!"
b

Just Ask the '69 Orioles

Every time we get a winter cold snap, or a summer heat advisory, climate change ignoramuses spout commentary on the veracity of global warming. That one day's weather (or one week's or one month's) is a conglomerate of variables almost totally devoid of larger meaning is utterly lost on most observers.

The same concept applies to the baseball playoffs. You've probably heard that the Tigers need Justin Verlander to pitch three times to have any chance in their series against the Rangers. This pronouncement belongs in the same junk heap as the following:

1. There's no way the Cardinals can beat the Phillies' historically great pitching staff three times.

2. The Tigers have no chance against the Yankees unless Verlander dominates twice.

And that's just the first round of one year's post-season. Baseball's annals are rife with similar platitudes gone awry.

Every year we hear these sorry old shibboleths crammed with certitude like stuffing in a Thanksgiving turkey. But the beauty of baseball is that nothing is ever certain. The Rays earned the Wild Card on a two-strike, two-out ninth inning home run from a player batting .119 on the season with one home run batting against a bullpen that hadn't lost a late eight run lead in 60 years.

You may have noticed that Verlander got rained out in Game One of the divisional series and surrendered four runs in Game Three, yet Detroit emerged victorious, and not because the league's batting champ and its best DH mashed them to victory. Miguel Cabrera and Victor Martinez swatted a combined .212/.350/.393 with a homer apiece. Instead, Brandon Inge, who spent part of the season renting new hitting shoes in Toledo; and Magglio Ordonez, who is over like Huey Lewis and the News; hit.444 in fill-in roles and 25th man Don Kelly pounded the winning home run and hit .364/.364/.636 in his four games of service.

With a loss in his first start in the ALCS, the Tigers must now rely on a rotation of Fister, Scherzer and Porcello before getting Verlander back on the hill. Woe is them, although last I looked, all three were on Major League rosters.

If the Rangers send the good Derek Holland to the mound tonight (1.99 ERA in wins) the Cats could be down 2-0. But if the evil Derek Holland (9.49 ERA in losses) takes the ball, we're back to even.

Regardless, a seven-game series is like a nor'easter. The odds may favor one result or another, but they don't guarantee anything. And thank goodness for that. It's a lot more fun to watch the games when we don't already know the outcome.

b

Good Lottery Numbers

Fascinating and gratifying as they were, the first round of the playoffs demonstrate why more playoff teams would further drain the life out of baseball's post-season.

The results, in which the leagues' two best teams were eliminated right out of the gate, yet again speak to how baseball playoff series are a lottery. In all four division series, the losing team outscored the winning team. The result is that baseball's three best teams, three top payrolls, and best division are all completely shut out. In their place are a trio of intriguing and deserving teams  -- and one mediocre outfit. That team, the Cardinals, snuck into the proceedings thanks to a Georgia Peach of a collapse.

They also remind us of the torpid 2006 World Series featuring a desultory Tigers-Cards match-up. Both teams had stumbled through losing second halves with Detroit squandering their division title and St. Louis posting the second worst division-winning record (83-78) ever. An accurate accounting of the result is that the Tigers fumbled away the Series in five games. It was like reading a long Tom Wolfe novel with a letdown of an ending.

Adding another lesser team further degrades the value of the regular season and increases the odds that the best teams watch the championship on TV.

As for the 2011 championship, either a Tigers-Brewers or a Rangers-Brewers World Series would be a revelation. All three teams demonstrated consistent domination during the season. All three won their divisions by wide margins. A Texas-Milwaukee pairing would result in a first-time World Series winner. (Milwaukee won once in the '50s when the Braves of Aaron and Matthews played there, but only the Brewers side even to make an appearance was 1982's "Harvey's Wallbangers.") A Detroit-Milwaukee match-up would offer a classic Rust Belt showdown of cars against brauts. The Tigers last won the Series 27 years ago. (Also, Max Scherzer facing Ryan Braun would represent the first Old Testament World Series duel in my memory.)

The first round was exciting and there's no reason the second round and World Series can't be as well. Let's hope teams that deserve to be there -- i.e., not the Cardinals -- join the long and illustrious list of World Series contenders.

b

Tonight's Starter: A Dumpster Fire

Tampa Bay outscored Texas by six runs in their four game series and lost three of four. Two one-run losses will do that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Rays got their first sellout crowd since Opening Day in Game Three of their playoff series. Serves the fans right that the Rangers swept in St. Pete to win the series.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone was stoked for CC Sabathia versus Justin Verlander, but tonight's AJ Burnett versus Rick Procello is much more intriguing. Burnett is the quintessential million-dollar arm and ten cent head. Porcello is a sophomore big leaguer with a darting sinker and inconsistent results.

If Porcello's sinker lacks its bite, he's toast against the patient Yankee lineup. They could fill up the scoreboard before he's gone. If he turns out the lights on NY's season, there will be a lovely glow around the Big Cats' two young arms -- Scherzer and Procello.

Burnett is either a fireballer or a dumpster fire. His inclusion on the post-season roster is an upset in itself. It would be delicious irony if he were to shut down the mighty Detroit lineup with the series on the line. It would be just plain delicious if he blows up and Detroit wins.

It wouldn't be surprising to see the bullpens decide this one.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adrian Beltre's three-homer night for the Rangers in their wrap-up 4-3 win caps a fine season in which he hit 30% better than average and shined at third. It's Beltre's first non-walk year bust-out.

Despite just 25 walks, Beltre posted a .296/.331/.561 line with 32 dingers and 33 doubles. The Ballpark in Arlington gets an assist, but that's an All-Star season in any park.

Texas paid Beltre for his career year in Boston last season and was derided for the five-year $80 million contract. It may yet bite Texas in the butt, but the Rangers are in the ALCS because of Beltre. If they win it all with him for the first time ever, no one in Big D will bemoan the contract.