Whether "anal retentive" Has a Hyphen

The number of angels that can dance on the head of a pin.

Anything Hugo Chavez says.

How much money Sarah Palin raises for a presidential bid.

The health warning on a cigarette package. 

The Oakland Raiders' first draft pick.

A baseball player's spring training stats.

What do these things have in common? They don't matter. 

What a guy does in 50 non-consecutive at-bats (or 20 innings, pitched three-at-a-time) against competition that's either headed back to A-ball or working on its nascent slurve couldn't be less relevant if it were the Pope's pronouncements on birth control. 

That's not to say that spring training doesn't matter, or even that how a guy looks during the is irrelevant. We'll be watching some guys'  health closely. (I'm looking at you Brad Lidge.) We'll be looking to see whether some pitcher has developed a new pitch. But let's not get all excited that some lifetime .208 hitter has popped four home runs. I've gone yard in parks with 240-foot fences.

Opening Day is a week away. We'll start finding out then. Man I can't wait.

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Getting On the JV Team

The winner of this year's Ben Zobrist Award for the best player who came out of nowhere will be Joey Votto. This is a trick selection. Just because you're not familiar with him doesn't mean the big-swinging, 27-year-old lefty isn't already an accomplished Major League hitter.

The Reds' first baseman, Votto has been pounding Major League pitching for two years and a coffee break. His .310/.388/.536 resume may be (Great American) Ballpark-aided, but 53 homers and 77 doubles in a thousand at-bats is hard to argue with.

Votto enters his third full season ready to explode. With a couple of full campaigns under his belt, with an increasing walk rate and with an improving team around him, the big Canadian is channeling Justin Morneau in the Queen City. His .414 OBP in an injury-trimmed season last year suggests a full year of Votto could catapult him into the MVP discussion in '10.

If that happens, you'll hear of him. And you'll wonder, where did this guy come from? Well, a pretty good place.
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The Curious Case of Mark Reynolds

The Arizona Diamondbacks signed their enigmatic third baseman, Mark Reynolds, to a new three-year, $14.5 million contract, with an $11 million option in 2013. If they are paying for uniqueness, they have their man. If they’re paying for quality, it could be a roller-coaster ride.

Reynolds is a 27-year-old baseball-launching device, personally responsible for a measurable portion of the Gulf Stream when he swings. If you know of him, it’s likely because of his record 223 strikeouts last year.

Reynolds had an All-Star caliber year in ‘09, batting .260 with 44 home runs. He was worth 4-5 wins relative to a replacement-level cornerman. As long as he bats .260, he can keep his OBP at .350, a reasonable escort to a formidable .550 SLG. The problem is, when you whiff in 39% of your at-bats, that’s a tall order.

Last year, Reynolds batted .423 on balls he put into play (BABIP) in order to achieve that overall batting average of .260. The average batsman posts a BABIP around .300-.320. Perhaps Mark Reynolds, because of his gargantuan cuts, is smacking the ball harder on those occasions when he makes contact and is therefore more likely to produce a high BABIP. But .423 doesn’t sound sustainable. It sounds like torrid hitting, masked by a high strikeout rate.

Let’s say instead, that Reynolds strikes out, walks, and homers at the same rate in 2010 as in 2009, but only hits an unusual .390 on balls in play. Lo and behold, he’s a .239/.328/.483 hitter with six fewer home runs. Not bad if you’re goal is to collect a major league paycheck, but not far from a backup role.

For what it's worth, the major projection systems expect very much what I've outlined, pegging him at roughly .245/.335/.490. There's a word for a career trend line like this one: uh-oh.

The Snakes feel like they have nailed down a key puzzle piece as he enters his prime, and maybe they have. However, if Reynolds can’t keep hitting at last year’s pace, we may have already seen his peak, and the $11 million option will be a real knee-slapper. 

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A Bad Seed

The Texas Longhorns raced off to a 17-0 record and a #1 ranking as the calendar changed on this NCAA basketball season. The Horns have stumbled to a 7-9 record since, fallen out of the Top 25 and succumbed by 30 points to Baylor in their league tournament. So you might have been disappointed that they were "rewarded" with the #8 seed in the East region.

In fact, the selection committee has punished Texas severely and appropriately. Here's the dirty little secret of the NCAA tournament: The #8 seed is the worst seeding in the bracket. (Followed, for the same reasons, by #9.) The Horns' prospects would be better with a seed as low as 11.

There's virtually no difference in quality between teams seeded 7-10 and only a little distance between the six line and the 11. Every team in the middle of the field is good, but flawed. Every one of them can be beaten. So it doesn't matter whether UT plays the nine-seed -- in this case an equally desultory Wake Forest -- or the six-seed -- in this case Marquette.  Either opponent is roughly equal in ability to them.

Between the first and the third seeds, however, lies a chasm. Those are the second round foes facing the winners of the 8-9 and 6-11 games. Should Texas prevail, they have an almost insurmountable second-round match-up with that monster called Kentucky. Should #11 Washington bump off Milwaukee's finest , they have an eminently winnable game against #3-seed New Mexico.

#9 Wake Forest and #6 Marquette are virtually indistinguishable in terms of quality. #1 Kentucky and #3 New Mexico, night and day.

The end result: Texas might win their first-round game, but the Sweet 16 is almost certainly beyond their reach. Amazing for a squad ranked first in the country in January. It's the curse of the #8 seed. If your school is in line for one, root for it to get demoted in the bracket.
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Intriguing Teams of 2010 - Not

“It’s sad, so sad. What a sad, sad situation, and it’s getting more and more absurd.” –Bernie Taupin

Meet the Mets. By far not one of the most intriguing teams of 2010, unless you’d pay money to read a train wreck’s box score. This simply derails the annual Met query.

For sure, the Mets have a power core at #1 starter, shortstop and third base, two outfield slots and closer. If healthy, Santana, Reyes, Wright, Beltran, Bay and KRod are a sextet of All-Stars, but if healthy, my great-great grandfather would be 150. For the Mets, the page is mostly blank after that, and the problem with the stars and scrubs approach to team construction was vividly displayed last year when most of the stars turned into white dwarfs and black holes.

Worse, the prospects for those six are iffy this year. Reyes and Beltran begin the year on the DL. Age and arthritis add a layer of doubt to Beltran’s recovery as a balky thyroid does to Reyes’s return. Wright’s 2009 Ichiro imitation is a mystery, and while I expect his power to bounce back, it’s only because that’s what great players do, not because there’s some objective data suggesting last season was an aberration.

Beyond that, Met fans should invest in Bayer. The rest of the squad is an Oldtimers Game waiting to happen, combined with youngsters whose upside is a Major League paycheck. If your idea of a great catching tandem is a 29-year-old with a .290 OBP, and a 39-year-old with a .292 OBP, then you’ll love Omir Santos and Henry Blanco.

And you’ll positively erupt with glee over the non-Santana section of the pitching rotation, which is to say, 80% of Met starts. Last year’s version of Isringhausen and Pulsipher – Mike Pelfrey and John Maine – kept the metaphor vibrant with injuries and ineffectiveness. After that, what? Oliver Perez? The guy needs GPS to find home plate. Convert reliever Kelvim Escobar to the rotation? He’ll be pitching for the Disabled List to start the year. Rookie Jon Niese? The 6’4” lefty showed flashes in five starts last year, but relying on him would constitute wishing, not knowing.
 
Citi Field will mask some of that defensive ineptitude with its pitcher-friendly confines, but it won't make any difference in the standings. Flushing's best will have to contend with Philly's Murderers' Row and Atlanta's depth on the hill, not to mention that enigmatic Miami squad that stays in the hunt every year on a Motel 6 budget.

The Mets can claim the title Least Value Per Dollar Spent unless the Cubs begin their 2010 hibernation in July, but that’s the only thing for which this sad outfit is likely to contend. As the song says, Met fans, “sorry seems to be the hardest word.”

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Intriguing Teams of 2010, Part 3

If you prefer quantity over quality, you’re going to love the 2010 Atlanta Braves. With four fourth outfielders and three-and-a-half number two starters, four guys who can play third base, five who can play first, and none who can slug 30 homers, the Braves are the Everglades of baseball -- a mile wide and an inch deep.

Atlanta largely held down the fort during the off-season, after an 84-win season. They traded their third best starter, Javier Vazquez, for the Yankees’ Mediocre Cabrera. They jettisoned first baseman Adam Laroche in favor of the undead Troy Glaus and Eric Hinske. And they let embattled keystoner Kelly Johnson walk.

What that leaves them with is 73 equally plausible lineup combinations, not one of which sends chills up your spine. Nate McLouth, Matt Diaz, the aforemaligned Melky Cabrera and a castoff of thousands will battle for three outfield spots. McLouth and Diaz are nice players: if either showed up at your door to take your daughter to the prom, you’d be pleased, but it’s not like you’re praying that she’ll marry him, the way you did with that Pujols boy when you lived in St. Louis. Neither is a threat to slug .500 or make Georgians forget Andruw Jones afield (especially since Cabrera will staff center.) One more outfielder not worth mentioning is 38-century-old Garret Anderson, who at this point runs like Abe Vigoda and hasn’t hit like an outfielder since Friends was on the air.

At age 38, Chipper Jones can still pick ‘em at the hot corner and hit with his eyes closed. He has not, however, learned how to hit from the trainer’s table, where he is likely once again to spend a fair amount of time. Brian McCann Nakahoma’d 21 times last year to lead the team, and there isn’t much reason to think there’s any bigger wood on the club in 2010. McCann is another Hall of Famer in the making, but he’s not carrying that offense. Yunel Escobar was magnificent from the shortstop position last year; expect him to decline to merely quite good in ’10. In short, the Braves are an offense of guys who bat .300 but slug .420. Not exactly Howard, Utley, Victorino, Werth, Ibanez territory.

Fortunately, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. In Bobby Cox’s last year as chief of the teepee, he’ll trot out Lake Wobegone’s starting rotation, where every pitcher is above average. It starts with sensational sophomore Tommy Hanson, followed by Jair Jurrjens, Derek Lowe and Kenshin Kawakami, and perhaps by mid-season, Tim Hudson, whose hip ligament needs more time to acclimate to life in his elbow. The staff is as deep as the ocean.

Alas, the same cannot be said for the bullpen. Beyond the re-purposed body of 38-year-old Billy Wagner, 40-year-old Takashi Saito and the Aussie sidewinder Peter Moylan, t’aint much. If Cox can summon unexpected excellence out of the rest of the pen, Atlanta has a shot at the wild card. They’re going to have to do it by preventing runs, because the offense will be challenged to cobble together what it can.

No analysis of the Braves is complete without mentioning the studmuffin in the room, Jason Heyward. Physically he’s Darryl Strawberry and, thankfully, emotionally he is not. At 6’5” and 245 pounds of sinew, Heyward has already made a name for himself at Braves spring training by blasting so many BP pitches into the parking lot behind the fences that management had to install a net to prevent further damage to parked cars. The team shelled out over $10,000 before they finally took action. Still, the yeast has yet to rise on this 20-year-old with just 50 games above A-ball, and team management is smart enough not to take him out of the oven prematurely. The recipe in Atlanta remains unchanged regardless of Heyward’s immediate future: clog the bases, shut down the opposition and keep the Rolaids close.

Intriguing Teams of 2010, Part 2

Their aging, overpaid veterans have not delivered their value. Their young pitching staff is a cauldron of potential. They dealt their centerfielder to a team that needs him less than they do. Their superstar is a knucklehead. They signed a 36-year-old to be their speedy leadoff hitter. Their impending mediocrity appears to be even more mediocre than last year’s mediocrity.

In other words, they are a favorite in their division.

They’re the Detroit Tigers, and predicting what they might produce this season is as futile as predicting the next San Francisco earthquake. The bookies and statheads seem to agree that the over/under is somewhere around .500. But the Tigers are equally likely to win 91 or 71 as 81, so volatile is their team.

Let’s start with the lineup, which features the league’s most reluctant superstar, Miguel Cabrera. Just 26, he’s already pounded 209 home runs and posted a .925 OPS over six years, playing an average of 159 games a year. As a first baseman in ’09, he delivered his usual performance while overweight and apparently uninterested.

After a verbal spanking from Jim Leyland, Cabrera reportedly buckled down over the winter and reported to camp unencumbered by adipose or attitude. One shudders to think how much better he might be. The Tigers can only hope he’s enough better to compensate for 36-year-old Magglio Ordonez, whom Detroit management allowed to play enough in ’09 to vest a $14 million option despite slugging just .426 with nine homers.

Add third baseman Brandon Inge, who couldn’t hit a volleyball in the second half last year, and shortstop Carlos Guillen, who slumped in ’09 at age 33, to black holes at catcher and second base, and you have to wonder how Detroit will score any runs if Cabrera doesn’t produce.

On the other hand, inking Johnny Damon to lead off could catapult the Tigers to the win column. By solidifying the most underrated spot in the lineup, Damon sets the table for the aforementioned big guns and gives them someone to knock in. He’ll also add some speed to a slow outfield, though he may want to flip the ball to promising centerfielder Ryan Raburn on sacrifice flies.

Then there’s the big cats’ pitching staff, which could deliver anything from dazzling to disastrous. We know that Justin Verlander is money in Comerica Bank, but what to make of Jeremy Bonderman (injured the last two years), Nate Robertson (dinged last year after surrendering a 6.35 ERA in ’08) and rookie phenom Rick Porcello (3.96 ERA despite just 89 K in 171 innings)? Add to that fickle young flamethrowers Max Scherzer in the rotation and Daniel Schlereth in the pen, both of whom Detroit picked up in trade with Arizona, and the return of once-upon-a-time closer Joel Zumaya, and you get the distinct sense that this team could go up or down in a big way.

It’s hard to argue with the experts that 81 wins is about the midpoint for Motown, but this team is the poster child for standard deviation. It wouldn’t be surprising to see them either look down on the division or up at Kansas City in the final standings this year.

Olympics: The Anti-NHL

Apparently, you do have to hit Gary Bettman on the head with a sledge hammer more than a once for him to get it. While you were enjoying the thrilling ice hockey tournament at the 2010 Olympics, Bettman and his NHL cohorts were busy failing to learn the key lesson of the games: people are excited about hockey; it's the National Hockey League that bores them.

Bettman is currently dragging his feet with Sochi, Russia about taking a two-week hiatus in the NHL season for the 2014 Olympics because the Olympics haven't delivered the expected interest-bump to the NHL. This is like Nome, Alaska complaining that tourism didn't increase after an ad campaign for Honolulu.

Here's the painful truth that the lords of the NHL have managed to ignore for 20 years: the Olympic tournament is everything that the NHL is not. The Olympics presents a two-week tournament in which every game matters. It makes for terrific matches with everything on the line.

It's exactly the same in the National Hockey League -- in the sense that it's totally different. Thirty teams play 82 games each through the fall and winter in order to eliminate the most dreadful 14. Then they start all over again and have the remaining 16 teams play as many as another 28 more games in the spring to decide the champion. By the time some strapping Jacque is kissing Lord Stanley's cup, the world has gone to the beach and forgotten about games played on ice.

Instead of holding the players hostage, Commissioner Bettman should consider learning something from the Olympics. If he wants his league -- once the fourth major sport; now simply irrelevant -- to matter at all, he should shorten the season, slash the playoffs in half and crown a champ by tax day. In the short term, the league will lose revenue. But it will gain relevance, which is ultimately a lot more important. Maybe the NHL representatives from Canada can tell him about it while they kiss their gold medals.

Intriguing Teams of 2010, Part 1

Between now and Opening Day, I'll be peeling the onion on some of the more intriguing teams of this coming season. First on the docket is last year's AL West champs, the Anaheim Angels.

Both baseball prognosticators and Las Vegas are down on the Angels, who lost their ace, their super utility guy and their former superstar to free agency. The departure of John Lackey, Chone Figgins and to a much smaller degree Vladimir Guerrero, will hurt, as will the perceived ascendancy of AL West rivals in Seattle and Arlington. I've seen several projection systems with the Angels at 75-84 wins, a 13-22 game tumble from 2009. I wonder if it's really looking that bleak in Orange County.

First, owner Arte Moreno didn't take those snubs lying down. Anaheim let Figgins seek his fortune elsewhere in part because it has another super utility player, Macier Itzuris, who doesn't possess Figgins's pop, but hits a respectable .359/.434 spotting at second, third and short. The Angels also have confidence -- perhaps unwarranted -- in young cornerman Brandon Wood, whose career .192/.222/.313 balance sheet in 224 at bats belies a strong minor league portfolio. Wood projects to hit for power but not get on base much, with below average defense at the hot corner.

Every team in baseball could use a John Lackey, but the Angels' cupboard is hardly bare, especially if mid-season pickup Scott Kazmir can find a different dance partner than "arm trouble." With the addition of Joel Pineiro to spell Joe Saunders, Jered Weaver and post-injury Ervin Santana, the Halos seem to have a competitive rotation. Off-season signee Fernando Rodney gives them a second closer behind Brian Fuentes, and with Scott Shields as set-up man, the bullpen looks like an asset too. Pitching is fickle, bullpens doubly so, but you'd rather start the season with this contingent than what anyone else in the division can trot out, wouldn't you?

Manager Mike Scoscia will write the names of some castoffs and retreads in his daily starting lineup, including Bobby Abreu in rightfield and Hideki Matsui at DH. Abreu was a pleasant surprise at a bargain price last year, while Matsui, wracked by injuries, was the reverse for the Yankees. Abreu's unlikely to repeat, but Matsui will likely make up the difference. First baseman Kendry Morales's breakout 2009 season in which he mashed .306/.355/.569 with 34 dingers is probably a bit rich for expectations in 2010, but Howie Kendrick (.334/.444) above average at the keystone, Erick Aybar (.353/.423) inhabiting the median at short, Wood a question mark at third and slugger Mike Napoli (.350/.492) on the honor roll behind the plate combine for an above average infield. Torii Hunter, Bobby Abreu and Juan Riveira are a bit long in the tooth but otherwise sufficiently skilled in the outfield.

Many insiders dismiss the Angels as a 92-win team last year that outplayed their run scoring profile. Statheads have documented that the difference between runs scored and runs given up is a good predictor of a team's record. Teams whose records run way ahead of their profile tend to tail off, and vice versa. So, many experts are starting their analysis of the Angels on the premise that their true level of ability last year was 92 wins, and then subtracting from that because of the loss of Lackey, Figgins and Guerrero and the concomitant gains of Seattle and Texas.

Here are some reasons why the Angels, at least going into the season, look just as good to me as they did last year:

1. The possibility of a full year of Kazmir, plus Pineiro, plus Santana is healthy, plus Rodney.

2. Without a superstar, Anaheim appears weak to untrained eyes. But lacking a soft spot in the starting lineup is more valuable than you think. Not only does it provide no rest for the weary pitcher, it limits the pain if a key player gets hurt. (See Mets, NY; 2009.)

3. Mike Scoscia's teams have a habit of flummoxing the run scoring profile. Fugetaboudit. 

4. Guerrero was addition by subtraction, as I documented last October.

5. Moreno has a big bank account, inflated by the out-migration of high-priced talent. He'll find some shiny jewel on the mid-season free-agent bazaar that Seattle can't afford.

Predicting baseball team records before the season is a fool's errand. But a smart betting person is taking the over on the Angels. They still look to me like the team to beat in the AL West.

Boog, Will You Marry Me?

I suspect this is somehow illegal, but it's done with love. This was a guest column for Baseball Prospectus.

Building a Better Broadcast

by Jon Sciambi

Jon Sciambi, who does play-by-play of Major League Baseball games for ESPN, has been kind enough to grace the Baseball Prospectus site with a guest column.

Let me tell you about an argument I had with Chipper Jones. Last year, I came across an interesting nugget on Fangraphs while doing pre-game prep: Besides Albert Pujols, Chipper sees the fewest first-pitch strikes in the majors.

Chipper is open-minded when discussing hitting, even when he disagrees, so I decided to present him this information prior to the game. He was really surprised. He didn't believe the facts, even though the numbers were inarguable. Or, more to the point, he believed in what he knew (and himself) more than my stupid, never-played-the-game facts.

Chipper was so surprised that he went around the clubhouse asking teammates, one by one, if they were surprised. None of them were. Everyone saw it but him, the guy with ostensibly the best view. Chipper has great eyes, obviously, and great belief in those eyes, but those eyes can also occasionally lie to even one of the best hitters in the game.

I went on to ask why he'd swing at so many first pitches when the numbers suggest it's not a great play. Chipper explained that the first pitch is often the only time he'll get a "heater" the entire at-bat. "OK," I say, "but clearly, mathematically, factually, you’re not getting a ton of strikes." We go round and round for a bit without concession on either side and eventually I go upstairs to broadcast the game.

Fast forward to the top of the first. San Diego’s Tim Stauffer on the mound. Chipper digs in… and takes a 91-mph fastball right down the middle. He steps out of the box, finds our broadcast booth with those great eyes and, well, here’s what follows:

Chipper Jones 1, Stats 0. But Chipper, sample size!

Will Carroll’s "Be Stupider" post got me thinking: How can the broadcast world do a better job of delivering sabermetrics to the masses? And, more importantly, how do we make it "illuminating" instead of "coma-inducing?" Additionally, how do I get Chipper to understand I'm not a moron?

Like Will, I’m "mathematically challenged" and find lots of BP, Fangraphs, Tango, etc., tough to digest. I am somewhat "tentative" to push SABR-type stuff on air because of the aforementioned coma potential. That's not an excuse, just reality. But it's also on me to do better. During my years doing Braves games, I had the good fortune of working with a crew that was open to new ideas. All our player stat lines included OBP (not earth-shattering) and the bulk of our graphics were presented in rate-stat form. But the thing that made it work was my broadcast partner, Joe Simpson. If I dug up a non-mainstream stat somewhere online, I'd say, "You know, Joe, I was looking at 'I live in my mom’s basement.com,' and I found this note on Javy Vazquez…" He would giggle and poke fun, but he would always listen. You know what else? He would change his mind sometimes. Joe is very old school. But he’s fun enough to spitball in one of the classrooms of that old school. What's the line from Mr. Baseball? "I bet you didn’t start playing baseball as a kid because you wanted to work?" That’s right, Magnum P.I., I just quoted Mr. Baseball.

So how do we make a better broadcast? It's gotta be fun. Entertaining. To us. Yes. But, by extension, to the audience.

What else? Well, it's as much about eliminating certain stats from the lexicon as it is about adding them. We need to slowly erase the "noise." Stop mentioning and graphically supporting with stats like RBI and wins because that stuff doesn't make people smarter.


Let's not forget "it's the search for objective knowledge about baseball." The goal is not unveiling newfangled stats; it's about getting people to understand basic ideas and concepts. To achieve that, we can't just slap stats up on the screen and explain them. Understanding has to come in the form of analysis. We have to use the stat and explain it. Sometimes it needs to be the PBP guy playing analyst and getting the color guy to react:

If Ryan Howard is up, I can talk about RBI and why dependent stats don't evaluate individual performance well; RBI aren’t what reflects Howard’s greatness, his SLG does. I can mention that Howard's massive RBI totals may be due to the fact that no player has hit with more total men on base than Howard since 1492 (I believe this is a fact but didn't feel like looking it up). Point is, there are dead people who could knock in 80 runs hitting fourth in that Phillies lineup. (OK, I probably wouldn't say that on-air.)

The metrics are getting so advanced that we're in danger of getting further away from the masses instead of closer. We, as broadcasters, have to find better and entertaining ways of explaining the math in bite-sized terms. Simplified, we need to explain that one of the problems with batting average, as opposed to slugging percentage, is that batting average values a single and a home run equally. We can't assume that's understood just because we understand it. And the only way it gets embedded is to keep beating the audience with it so that it becomes ingrained the way ERA eventually did, even though that once passed for advanced math. That, and we should all wear blue blazers with an emblem that reads, "OBP is life."

I also believe, as it relates to the masses, the PBP guys can’t move the analysis needle much. The masses will always find former players more credible, period, and the BP base needs to be more open to that—if the goal is indeed to inform the masses and not be "right."

The average fan wants the analysis from McCarver, not Buck. Joe Morgan may not be popular in these parts, but last year I worked a Tigers/Angels game with him in Anaheim. At one point, I mentioned UZR, UZR/150, and other defensive metrics. As we were going to commercial, Joe said that he'd like to talk about defensive metrics when we got back. What followed was a pretty straightforward, simple discussion about defensive metrics without disdain or dismissal on his part.

Look, there's still a ways to go. We need a former player to look into the camera and explain properly why this guy:

.250/.380/.475

is a better offensive player than this guy:

.300/.320/.475

We need to get to where the masses understand there is no choice. This isn't subjective. I evaluate offense with OBP and SLG while you like RBI and runs scored is not the same as "I like strawberry, and you like vanilla." It’s "strawberry is better than vanilla." More accurate and, therefore, more delicious. To be clear, I don't speak for ESPN here, just me, but I think we have a responsibility to inform correctly. If a majority of teams are using advanced metrics to inform decisions, then we should do some of the same in analyzing those decisions.

In 2008, Dick Cheney was informed that two-thirds of Americans thought the war in Iraq was not worth fighting. Cheney’s response? "So?" We need a little bit more of that 'tude. This isn’t to say I agree with his politics. Or the war. Why am I even going here? Eject!

I'd liken this task to how The New York Times operates. The Times places the stories it deems most important above the fold and to the right. The majority of other papers go with what they think we think are the most important. The goal is to be the Times. If we eliminate the noise of RBI, runs, etc., keep it basic and utilize the slash stats, I believe that, slowly, the desert masses will drink the sand. The BP base must understand: VORP, EqA, WAR, and Robert Parish are not walking through that door. Not for a while. But it can only help if the broadcasters are a team, too—in uniformity (together, I mean, not wearing those blazers) while patiently holding that door open.

86 the 96!

Been spending a lot of the last two weeks avoiding exposure to Winter Olympics coverage.  I can't stomach the needless nationalism that dominates our view of the Olympica, as if the ability of some 19-year-old from Vermont to ski down a hill fast demonstrates U.S. superiority over Sweden.

This time of year, I'm focused on pitchers and catchers, of course, and college hoops. The NCAA tournament -- and its lead-up -- are a particularly exciting time if you come from places like Albany, NY and Charleston, S.C., rooting for hometown teams like College of Charleston, Siena, Coastal Carolina, Cornell, and, for no apparent reason, Indiana University-Purdue University-Indianapolis, commonly known as IUPUI, which is pronounced "Oo-wee-poo-wee."

Gaining steam these days in college basketball circles is a horrifying idea. Jim Boeheim, the under-appreciated Syracuse coach, has been lobbying for several years to vastly expand the NCAA tournament to 96 teams. Boeheim wants to turn college basketball into the NBA or NHL, which is to say, make it totally irrelevant.

From a coach's perspective, this makes perfect short-term sense. He loves his kids, they work hard, they are among the best in the world, and he wants them to have an opportunity to dance at the big ball. (This year, of course, this isn't an issue for the Orange, who are #1 seed contenders. But his squad has come up short in recent years.) And Boeheim has the ear of the movers and shakers of NCAA basketball. This is worrisome, because Boeheim's proposal would literally ruin the game.

Imagine if every team that now plays in the NIT were to join the NCAA. Entire BCS conferences would pass into the tournament. Yawn. Say goodbye to the winner-take-all excitement of most league tournaments. ZZZzzzz. It would suck the prestige out of earning a berth for mid-majors and small conferences. Really, how special is a tournament invitation when a quarter of all teams get one? From the fans' perspective, it would destroy the regular season, render many conference tournaments lame and add nothing to the NCAA tournament.

All this is an object lesson for Major League Baseball. It must resist the misguided and nearsighted forces hankering for expanded playoffs and keep the regular season meaningful. It must maintain the credibility of a playoff spot, which could be sorely tested even with the current alignment if the AL Central delivers four .500 teams this year. It must maintain its slim purchase on the remaining sliver of integrity connected to the pennant race.

Bud, beware the Boeheims! 86 the 96!

The End of Moneyball

I remember reading the seminal book Moneyball and wondering to myself, why is Billy Beane letting Michael Lewis spill all his secrets? Beane had created a juggernaut in Oakland from 1999-2006 with a payroll that could hide in CC Sabathia's shadow. He had done so by exploiting inefficiencies in the baseball marketplace.

Beane had determined that other teams were overvaluing batting average and paying little attention to on base percentage, so he signed unwanted walking machines like Matt Stairs for pennies on the dollar. 

He discovered that any decent pitcher with some moxie and reasonable righty-lefty splits could get three outs in the ninth, but that other GMs still drooled over saves. So he let his hard-throwing closer rack up saves, traded him for good young players, and then plugged in the next guy. Shampoo, rinse, repeat. 

Beane recognized that the on-field manager isn't a field general; he's a squad captain with good personal skills. So he told his manager, Art Howe, who to play and how much. When Howe sought genius money after leading the As to the playoffs, Beane let the Mets pay it and hired another middle manager.

He realized that the best predictor of a pitcher's future success was his college baseball aptitude, not his build, or his athleticism or the speed of his pitches or other mysterious elements.So he avoided drafting high school pitchers, who had a very high bust rate.

Beane knew that buying baseball players on the free market could sink a low-income franchise if they didn't pan out. At the same time, players' salaries are immune to free market forces in their first four years in the Majors, and then are still undervalued through arbitration in years 4-6. (On average, players can expect to earn 40% of their free market value through arbitration in year four, 60% in year five and 80% in year six.) So he milked the core of his team --Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder and Barry Zito -- until just before free agency, when he traded each of them for a shower of good, young, underpaid performers. This effort provided the A's with Rich Harden, Dan Haren, Joe Blanton and Justin Duchscherer, among others, while only Hudson of the original trio has come within an elephant's butt of delivering value to his new team.

Since Beane's success depended on suckering fellow GMs, why on earth would he let someone publish his strategies? The answer, it turns out, was that other teams were on to Oakland by 2003 and were eliminating those market inefficiencies. In fact, the A's shortly thereafter turned away from OBP and began stressing defense as the next undervalued commodity.

By 2007 or 2008, whatever market inefficiencies existed were difficult to find and hardly worth exploiting. Baseball fans and sportswriters may not accept the conclusions of new baseball research, but all 30 franchises have and they are toiling diligently to develop their own, proprietary insights. Billy Beane's big advantage is gone.

The result, in case you haven't noticed, is that the A's are simply a low-budget team with predictable results -- between 10 and 12 games below .500 each of the last three years. Even if they squeeze value out of players now, with their lowest-in-the-league $57 million payroll (the Yankees are somewhere around $210 million), getting a lot for their money still leaves them under .500. To wit: the A's signed Kevin Kouzmanoff to staff the hot corner this year for $3.1 million, roughly one-ninth of Alex Rodriguez's pay. If Kouz is three times as effective per dollar as ARod, he's still one-third the player.

Beane's strategy these days seems to be to wring value out of the last bastion of sabermetric research -- middle relief -- and to take calculated flyers on low-cost retreads and imports. The $10 million gamble on Ben Sheets is a prime example of that. Sheets has a golden arm, but has been healthy about as often as the Haitian economy. And so, the once vaunted Oakland sabermetric machine will present the good people of the East Bay with a roster including the likes of Coco Crisp, Kurt Suzuki, Rajai Davis and Jack Cust. No wonder Michael Lewis moved on to the thievery on Wall Street.

Super Bowl Sidebar

Psst. Wanna make a quick buck? Bet on tomorrow's Stupid Bowl.

I don't know who's going to win or by how much. In fact, that's the point: no one does. That's why you should make my bet.

Have you ever listened to football analysts? They are pigskin encyclopedias. They are strategic savants. They can tell you about dime packages and zone blitzes and all manner of esoterica. But they are no better at predicting game results than a blind monkey with a three-sided coin. They are not only notoriously bad predictors of which teams will win and by how much, but even of the general flow of games.

It's not their fault. In the NFL, past results are not necessarily indicative of future returns. 

So why should the one game tomorrow be any different? The experts can parse this contest down to Reggie Bush's nose hairs, but then some third-string linebacker intercepts two passes. They can atomize the effects of Dwight Freeney's ankle injury, but then some guy you and I never heard of blocks a punt for a touchdown. The game, like the ball, is spheroidal and bounces in strange directions.

So the experts say these two prolific offenses will make the game a track meet and have bid the over/under to 57. I'm sure that's warranted based on the information available. But the only way that happens is if the experts are right, in spades, because that's a boatload of points.

So bet the under. In fact, put some money on under 49, which would yield two-to-one. I'm not guaranteeing you'll win, just that the odds favor you. The line is based on what the experts know, which is far less important than what they don't yet.
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Defending the Baseball Writers

In 1965, Twins shortstop Zolio Versalles swatted 19 home runs, 45 doubles and 12 triples, swiped 27 of 32 bases, led the league in runs scored and total bases, whiffed just 27 times and earned a gold glove. The BBWAA rewarded him with an MVP award despite a putrid .319 on base percentage.

Was that, asked Andy from Maryland, the worst MVP season of all time? Absolutely not. In fact, not only was it a totally defensible award, it actually demonstrated that baseball writers can make a pretty savvy choice, even if by accident.

Because he batted .271 and walked only 41 times, Versalles' posted just a .319/.462 OBP/SLG line, giving him roughly the 16th highest OPS in the league. Add in the steals and the fielding acumen at the key infield position and it's easy to see that those numbers fail to capture his value.

To some degree, the writers stumbled onto a good choice. They were aided by a lack of high average sluggers in 1965, the kind who usually gobble MVP votes. Only two American Leaguers swatted as many as 30 home runs, with 32 leading the league. Those two players, Tony Conigliaro and Norm Cash, batted .269 and .266, and played corner outfield and first base respectively. In addition, that MVP lubricant, the run batted in, was in short supply in 1965; only two players knocked in even 100. Rocky Colavito, Cleveland's rocket-armed outfielder who led the league with 108, hit .287 and was a legitimate MVP contender. Detroit's slow-footed first baseman, Willie Horton, drove in 104 and batted .273. He came in eighth in the voting.

It didn't hurt Versalles that the Twins ran away with the pennant ahead of the White Sox and Orioles. It might explain why Tony Oliva finished second, although 98 RBI, 19 steals, fine defense and a .321 batting average didn't hurt. Also aiding Versalles was the Red Sox's miserable 100-loss season, which degraded Carl Yastzemski's MVP case in the eyes of the writers, despite a league-best .312/.395/.536 performance.

While you could make a case for Yaz, Colavito, Cash and Oliva, the player who might truly have been most valuable that year finished tied for 17th in the balloting. (See the balloting and player stats here.) Sudden Sam McDowell fanned 325 batters in 273 innings and limited the league to a 2.18 ERA. But McDowell won just 17 games, pitchers had their own award, and no Indians were scalping honors with a fifth place finish.

That left Versalles, a five-tool performer whose failing landed directly in that era's blind spot. 1965 was a full 14 years before Bill James first suggested that OBP was the bomb, and 20 years before anyone paid attention. Blaming sportswriters then for ignoring OBP would have been like blaming them for failing to post their stories on the Internet. In fact, given the run scoring environment that year, Versalles' balanced portfolio may very well have delivered the highest returns to his team.

Baseball writers today get no such pass, of course, because it's their refusal to learn anything since 1965 that makes their ignorance so galling. Today, it's lazy and intentional.

And before we get carried away with the back-patting, five of their NL counterparts deserved to have been drummed out of the corps for their spectacularly dreadful MVP castings.

In 1965, Willie Mays led the majors with 53 bombs and 128 runs scored, and batted a stellar.317/.398/.645. In the field he was ... Willie Mays. Across the California coast that same year, Sandy Koufax confounded NL batters to the tune of 26-8, 2.04 in 335 frames with an astonishing .885 WHIP and 382 strikeouts.

So what did five of the 20 writers do? They rewarded Maury Wills with their MVP votes for swiping 94 bases. Wills ran into outs 40 times, never hit the ball out of the park, and produced a flaccid .660 OPS. He didn't even get on base much: his .330 OBP was 68 points worse than Mays' OBP, and as a Dodger, he never had to face Koufax. (To be fair, batting against Juan Marichal was no picnic either.) Those five should have been stripped of their press passes and sent to do some real reporting in Saigon.

So raise a glass to the baseball writers of 1965 who tripped, faltered, stumbled, back-pedaled and crashed into a sophisticated AL MVP selection. Maybe that wisdom will make a comeback.
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How About That Momentum!

For all you momentum buffs, which is to say, you believers in UFOs, ghosts, the single bullet theory, and stimulus packages, I would offer a modest proposal.

Entering the NFL playoffs, the Indianapolis Colts and New Orleans Saints had combined to lose their last five games after winning their first 27. 

The San Diego Chargers had prevailed in their previous 11. 

Remember all the analysts pooh-poohing Indy and Norlins because they didn't have any momentum? And touting SD? I wonder what Super Bowl they'll be watching.

Here was the San Francisco 49ers' season: They won their first game. And their second. Lost their third. Won their fourth. Lost their next four. They had momentum going against them, right? But they won their next game, then lost, then won, lost, won, lost, won and won. The 49ers were twice as likely to lose if they won the game before, or win if they lost the game before. Did momentum take every other week off?

Here's the modest proposal: if you still think there is some magic force by which teams and individuals succeed because they succeeded the last time or two, I propose that you need your head examined.

A baseball player doesn't get a hit because he was safe in his last two at-bats. Teams don't win because they swept the previous three game series. They get hits, and win, because they're good, or lucky, or both.

That's not to say that success doesn't breed self-confidence, which leads to more success. But the concept of self-confidence has a name and it's not momentum. So let's let the momentum shibboleth rest in peace, okay?

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When 50 Equals 2

Finally, someone has assessed Gary Matthews, Jr. at his real value. The Mets swapped out a spare bullpen part for Little Sarge and will pay him $1 million/year for attempting to be their fourth outfielder/defensive replacement this year and next. If anything, they overpaid for a guy who peaked in 2006 and hasn't sniffed respectability since.

After Matthews broke out with the Rangers in '06, posting a wind-aided .313/.371/.495, 19-homer, good defense performance, the Angels rushed to ink him to a delusional five-year, $50 million contract. The deal is back-loaded so most of the cost comes now when Matthews is 35 and can hardly lift a bat, much less swing one.

In his three campaigns in Anaheim, Matthews stretched his game to a new level -- Triple-A -- by batting .248/.326/.379 and producing for the regretful Angels one loss worse than a random guy pulled off the MLB outfielder pile.That's the pile from which the Mets just claimed him.

Anaheim GM Tony Reagins may be dancing the jig that someone was willing to relieve him of this burden, even if $21.5 million of the $23.5 million still being transferred to Matthews checking account comes from Arte Moreno's World Series fund. But the Mets are desperate for outfield play, particularly because of the uncertainty around Carlos Beltran's return, and Matthews might have more success in the weaker league. In any case, he knows where to find his glove. A million bucks, in Major League Baseball these days, is clubhouse tip money, so the Mets have invested little. We'll see if it yields anything.

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Happy Birthday Prince Albert

Here's something every baseball writer and I will agree on: Albert Pujols will be a Hall of Famer. (Actually, if history is any guide, one or more baseball writer will decline to elect Pujols in his first year of eligibility, but since that will likely be their only opportunity, he will pass into the Hall without their imprimatur. This will say significantly more about the recalcitrant voter than about Prince Albert, but nothing we don't already know.)

Yesterday officially marked Pujols's 30th birthday. The tally on his career during his 20s is staggering and worthy of reflection. Superlatives, get ready for the workout of your lives. His inaugural season set the pace: at age 21 he mashed .329/.403./.610 with 47 doubles and 37 homers and played superb defense, split among third, first, left and right. That performance alone put him in elite company with all-time greats.

Back problems led to a sophomore slump -- .314/.394/.561 with a decline in doubles (40) and dingers (34), and more insidiously, a significant drop-off in defense. He played mostly leftfield that year, a waste of his enormous infield talent. It would be the last time Pujols's OBP would drop below .400. In fact, it would be the last time it would drop under .415. (Rickey Henderson had 20 years with OBP below .415.)

In his first nine years (he's actually not yet Hall eligible), the ghosts of Cooperstown accompanied the Dominican Cardinal. He has compiled a .334/.427/.628  batting line with 366 home runs and several earned Gold Gloves at first. According to MLB.com, Pujols ranks fourth in games played, third in home runs, fourth in RBIs, fourth in batting average, fourth in OBP and third in slugging average all-time among players in their 20s. The names around him read like a rakers' litany: Dimaggio, Ruth, Williams, Rodriguez, Aaron and Foxx. In his 20s, Willie Mays produced an OPS 99 points lower than Pujols's.

Assuming Pujols hasn't ingested illegal substances, which we can't, but about which he asserted he would never affront God so, Prince Albert stands supreme in baseball today, and has done so over the last decade. Baseball Prospectus calculates that Pujols has been worth 85.5 wins to the Cardinals relative to a replacement player, which is to say, he has contributed nine years of unmitigated MVP quality. Despite previous bouts with a balky back and a torn ulnar collateral ligament, he added an astonishing 12.7 wins to St. Louis last year. If you're wondering what got into the Cardinals during an '09 season that promised mediocrity but delivered a division title, they just got themselves more Albert than usual. He kissed a .500 season and it turned into 94 wins. That's historic. BP estimates that Pujols's on-field play alone was worth roughly $36.5 million to St. Louis last year.

How will Pujols fare in his 30s? His back is an ongoing concern, but his athleticism and batting eye suggest that his peak will linger and his decline will be slow and gentle. Unlike Frank Thomas, who compiled similar early career stats and then tailed off, Pujols has tremendous defensive value and sufficient secondary skills to withstand a slowing of his bat.

Except this.

Albert Pujols is 30 like Charles Barkley is a ballerina. His family in the D.R. claims that he graduated high school early. Uh-huh. And I needed marijuana in college for my arthritis pain.

If instead, Pujols is 32 or 33, his prime has danced its last jig. If he's 32 or 33 now, we'll be evaluating him at 36 and 37 when he's really pushing 40. The whole equation is altered.

Which is to say, Albert Pujols's place in history will be at issue. We might debate whether he was Gerhig's equal, or Foxx's or Thomas's. But there won't be any debate about the Hall of Fame.

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Jolly Well Done!

If you want evidence that the best Hot Stove deals come after all the big wood is burned, this past week provides it.

First, the Astros leave their history of knucklehead contracts behind them and ink Brett Myers to a one-year, $5 million deal. Then, the Dodgers reap the benefit of swimming in the shallow end of the salary pool by nailing down outfielder Matt Kemp for two years at $10.95 million, and starting pitcher Chad Billingsley for one year at $3.85 million.

Then today, speaking of putting knucklehead contracts in the past, the Diamondbacks admit their mistake a cut loose Eric Byrnes, despite owing him $11 million.

Each of these moves will make their teams better. L.A.'s Trolley Hoppers sidestep arbitration and all that entails with their star duo, resulting in raises of $3.4 million for Billingsley and $5 million for Kemp. Billingsley struggled in the second half last year, so the one-year deal gives the Dodgers another season to evaluate him before committing longer-term. In his first four MLB campaigns, he's demonstrated durability, posted a 3.55 ERA, and struck out twice as many as he's walked. The arrow points up.

Kemp has also drawn major league paychecks since 2006, earning notice for his bat, glove and legs. A Gold Glove, a Silver Slugger and 85 steals in 109 attempts is a great way to start a career. The contract covers the rest of his arbitration years -- I think -- so I would have liked to see a longer deal from management's perspective, but they did get some savings in exchange for two years of salary certainty for Kemp.

The Myers deal may or may not net Houston an ace to complement Roy Oswalt, but $5 million is half the going rate for an average #3/4 innings-eater. Meyers has a checkered history, but the white squares look awfully good, and if he's healthy following his injury-flecked 2009 (and I assume the Astros know a decent physician who could do Myers' physical) his contract offers nearly all upside.

The best move of the bunch is Byrnes' goodbye party. Too bad for the fans in Phoenix that it required one of the dumbest signings ever to make it so. Eric Byrnes was a speedy but brittle outfielder with a good glove and an average bat by the time he turned 30. Byrnes is also a quintessential Californian character -- nickname Crash Test Dummy -- whose highlight reel catches and headfirst slides endeared him to fans and obscured the truth about his abilities. After he posted his best season ever at age 31 (.286/.353/.460 with 50 steals, which is pretty average outfield stuff, not withstanding the baserunning), Arizona brass rewarded him with three years and 30 million thank yous for smiling and getting dirty a lot.

Alas, they neglected to notice that 2007 was the first time Byrnes had stayed healthy for even 144 games, the first time he'd posted a .350 OBP and the first time he'd stolen even 30 bases. They paid him for his previous season just as his future began to fade, and in his age 32 and 33 years combined he stayed upright for just 136 games, posting OPS of .641 and .663 and contributing right about the level of a random AAA call-up.

So why cut Byrnes loose when you have to pay him eleven large? Because as long as he's not contributing, you might as well call up the AAA guy and give him a chance. Why waste at-bats on a 34-year-old has-been back-up, when you can let a new guy bob for apples at the company Halloween Party on the off chance that he might get one.

This move directly benefits persons answering to the names Ryan Roberts, Cole Gillespie and Rusty Ryal, a trio of fourth outfielder wannbees who spent '09 plying their trade in places like Mobile, AL and Reno, NV, but mostly it shows that Diamonback GM Josh Byrnes (no relation) understands the concept of a sunk cost. There are plenty of clubs that would have weighed down their rosters with Byrnes just because they're paying him the big bucks, but the money is spent either way, so the D-backs might as well make the optimum move for their pennant chances.

There's still another Adam Dunn '09 deal (two years, $20 million for a guy worth $30-$36 million) to be made out there, but it will take patience, intelligence and some luck. I'll be watching.
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If I Wanted To Get My Facts Straight, I Wouldn't Have Gone Into Journalism...

Whoops! A couple of events have passed me by and rendered some of my comments...ahem...factuallly challenged.

Andy from Maryland points out that Chris Coste, the Phillies' catcher/first baseman whom I suggested could platoon with Ryan Howard, will have to do so in 2010 in different parts of the inning. Apparently Coste has signed a Mets contract without consulting me.

The point stands, of course, that Howard is a homewrecker against righthanded pitching and a weeble against southpaws and ought to sit in favor of virtually any righthanded batter when lefties face the Phils.

I described Mark McGwire going oppo for his 62nd blast in 1998. Andy notes that was a pull job. I must have been remembering another of his one-handed, opposite-field base clearers. You know, the kind he claims would have been a home run even without the added strength provided by steroids.

I appreciate when readers pitch in. You can post your comments below mine, or email me directly if you have the secret code.

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The Man in the Mirror

Do you remember how exciting the '98 season was with Big Mac and Sammy crashing their way through the magical land of Sixtyone? Remember how thrilling it was when McGwire reached out one of his Popeye arms and deposited a pitch just over the opposite field fence and into the record books before embracing the Maris family? Remember how every time he came to bat thousands of camera flashes would sparkle against the summer night?

Remember what cognitive dissonance we all felt when a reporter found androstenedione in Big Mac's locker? Remember how it threatened to spoil the fun? Remember how the rest of the sports media world attacked --  the reporter! -- and how we all breathed a sigh of relief that we had been given permission to ignore the signs that the home run race was artificially sweetened?

We so wanted the history to be made. We wanted to be there for it. We rooted for Mac over Sosa even though Mac was moody and brooding, while Sosa was joyful and effervescent, because the massive redhead was the rightful heir to Ruth and Maris.

Remember?

No, actually, you've forgotten, particularly if you're a voting member of the BBWAA. All week we've heard the wailing, the gnashing of teeth, and of course, what about the children! In the wake of his quasi-admission that he juiced, Mark McGwire has been called everything but a Tonton Macoutes, and seems to have sealed any chance he might have had of winning free admission into the Hall of Fame.

Now I'll give you this: McGwire's mea culpa was overdue, self-serving, semi-graceless and stinking of denial, and the orchestrated Tony LaRussa follow-on was downright mendacious and insulting. McGwire uncorked that old shibboleth about steroids not giving a guy the ability to hit. He flexed that pathetic excuse that he shot up for a decade to recover from injuries. LaRussa insisted he didn't know his slugger juiced, even after McGwire's admission by omission before Congress five years ago. (It's worth noting that LaRussa is a lawyer. He knows what obfuscating sounds like.)

But here's the truth that no one, particularly those 20-year BBWAA members with HOF votes, wants to acknowledge: we're all collaborators. We liked being on the record-breaking train and we didn't want our trip upended by a hormone scandal. More than that, steroid use was widespread, if not rampant, for years, but not a single reporter whom I'm aware of ever documented it. Many of the very best players of the day -- Jose Canseco, Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds, Ivan Rodriguez, Miguel Tejada, Jason Giambi and Rafael Palmeiro -- were apparently poking themselves with needles, and not a single reporter knew? Please.

So spare me the righteous indignation. You were in on it. The main difference between you and Mark McGwire is that Mark McGwire has finally taken some responsibility for his role.

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