As we draw closer to the deadline, a lot of Yankee fans (and fans of “sellers”) are abuzz with talk of the Bombers rotation. Everything seems a-ok in the Bronx right now, but Brian Cashman is ripping out the four hairs he has left as thinks about the upcoming months as it pertains to his rotation. Some may think this is lunacy, as the Yanks are fresh off of an 8 game winning streak and seem to be building up Big Mo (not the Rivera variety) heading into their upcoming series with Boston. C.C. is pitching like an ace, A.J. Burnett is healthy and dealing, Joba seems to have finally put it together as a starter, Andy Pettite is up and down but has scads of pennant race experience, and Sergio Mitre impressed in his first start of the year. In Bullpen Land, things are even better as Big Mo (the Rivera variety) hasn’t lost a beat and Phillip Hughes has transformed into circa ’96 Rivera, giving them they luxury of a 7 inning ball game. Then why the unrest? Two words.
Kei. Igawa.
Currently, the Pride of Oarai is the Yankees technical “6th Starter.” Cashman knows this (I would hope), and as he watches Chamberlain’s much publicized “innings limit” draw closer and closer, sleeping at night becomes more and more difficult. What will happen when Joba hits that magic number? Will the organization cast aside the “Joba Rules” that have plagued the young man throughout his career (and sold a ton of shirts)? It doesn’t seem likely. Then the logical move would be a trip back to the bullpen for the former Sooner. But who then inherits his spot in the rotation? Hughes? Certainly not. The Yanks can’t sacrifice the dominance Hughes has brought to the 8th inning role. “The Acesavior” Alfredo Aceves? No way. He too has flourished in his bullpen role. They both have been valuable cogs in the Yankees’ recent success. The Wanger has been the complete opposite of “reliable” this season, so there’s no reason to even consider him. The top of the farm system is barren…the aforementioned Igawa tops the list of potential call-ups followed by a group of pitchers with little to no experience facing Major League hitters. A trade then? Perhaps the Jay Buhner trading Yanks of old would do such a thing, but the top line starters would cost far too much and the “back end” guys like Aaron Harang and Doug Davis aren’t exactly setting the world on fire. So what to do? I have a suggestion. There’s a guy in the Yankees bullpen right now that has been performing very well. A guy with starting experience. A guy whose production, while a plus, could be easily replaced by a guy like Joba, who we’ve all seen been shut-down out of the ‘pen.
That guy is Phil Coke. So far this season, Coke has been a quality reliever for the Yanks. After some early struggles, he’s settled down to the tune of a 3.67 ERA, a sub 1 WHIP, and K/BB ratio of 34/14. He has not been dominant by any stretch and has seemingly struggled in recent appearances, but has been by no means dreadful. By the same token, he has been far from “invaluable.” As my buddy Doug reminded me today, Coke has never started a game for the “big club”, but has started 77 games in the Yankees minor league system. He was far from “untouchable” as a minor league starter, but was impressive enough that he had been touted as a future part of the Yankees rotation until the team required a left handed reliever. The guy has good, solid stuff and has pitched over 550 innings all total in his professional career. Plus, a Joba/Coke switch allows you to get Chamberlain into the bullpen, where we know he can be dominant (look to his pre-midge 2007 season for proof) without sacrificing Aceves or Hughes. The prospect of an Aceves/Hughes/Joba/Rivera bullpen is quite tantalizing,especially when you consider that Damaso Marte is on his way back to the club. You also do not need to lease prospects like Austin Jackson, Jesus Montero, Zach McAllister etc. to get a guy like Jarrod Washburn from the Seattle Mariners. Washburn has been near-elite this season, but posts a career postseason ERA of 4.91 and for his career against the Red Sox, he is under .500 with a plus 4 earned run average. Many doubt his ability to pitch against the AL’s best and his performances against the Yanks and Angels this season seem to prove that.
I’m not saying that Phil Coke will slide into the rotation and be the second coming of Whitey Ford. But he does provide a “safe”, cost-free option when the magical innings limit is reached by Mr. Chamberlain. The Yanks would probably still have to go out and get a low rent starter (the aforementioned Harang or Davis, perhaps Ian Snell of Pittsburgh who has been lights-out since his demotion due to depression) for the stretch run or to be a postseason fourth starter. The best plan would be to say “Joba Rules be damned! This man is a starter!” But if the Bombers decide to send Joba to the ‘pen, my advice to Brian Cashman and the Steinbrenner boys is to order up a Coke. You know what they say…Things go better with Coke.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
The Guy Who Pees on His Hands?
Baseball fans love to look at "the old days" through nostalgia colored glasses. Everyone from grandpa right own down to junior loves to talk about the players they saw "growing up" and how much better the game was then. Unfortunately for my generation and younger, the players I saw "growing up" were primarily synthetic...chemically enhanced sluggers with muscles like the Ultimate Warrior and tempers shorter than Lord Littlebrook. I will admit, however, I am guilty of doing just that. Despite the cloud that hangs over "my generation's" ballplayers, I fondly reflect on the days of Junior, Edgar, and The Big Unit. As is always the case, the grass is always green 10 years ago. Despite the fact that (even at the age of 9) I recognized that Cal Ripken Jr. was kind of a jerk, I'll never forget my father calling me downstairs to watch the Iron Man break the Streak on ESPN. I can vividly remember being 10 years old and sitting in awe as the '96 Yankees did the impossible. The only times in my life I woke up early for school was September of 1998, when I would sprint downstairs to the TV to see if McGwire or Sosa had smacked another tater. Yes, the "olden days" were the good ones...a simpler time if you will. But as the celebrated philosopher Joel once said "The Good Ol' Days weren't all that good". Mitchell Reports, Canseco books, and testimonies have cast the shadow of doubt on many of those far-gone days of youth. I desperately cling to the idea that none of my beloved M's were using...I've never seen Griffey, Buhner or Martinez's name on one of those dreaded "LISTS", which helps me sleep at night. However, that does not mean I must destroy my nostalgia glasses. I can still put them on and take a gander at 90s baseball...I just have to look harder to find the special ones. The "clean" ones. The players who I may have not been appreciating at the time...mainly because what 11 year old is thinking about OPS or outfield assists. Just the other day, I slipped ol' frames on and found myself a diamond in the rough. A player whose name isn't exactly rolling off the tongues of baseball fans in '09...perhaps because we haven't seen his name in connection with the Cream or the Clear. No, the only performance enhancer this man was using was his own urine...I'm talking about Moises Alou.
Perhaps you’re saying MOISES ALOU?!? THE GUY WHO PEED ON HIS HANDS?!? THE GUY WHO COULDN'T PLAY 3 GAMES IN THE '08 METS?!? WHO CARES ABOUT HIM!...If you are saying that, I'd ask you to please stop shouting...people probably think you are crazy. If you are indeed shouting, read on. But perhaps you are not yelling these things...perhaps you too remember Felipe's son fondly. If you are one of those, I invite you to take a walk down memory lane with me. Don't forget those glasses though...
Moises Alou was far from a flashy player. At 6'3, 190 pounds, he lacked the imposing Popeye-esque figure we became accustomed to during his era. Despite being picked 2nd overall by Pittsburgh in 1986, he didn't exactly burst onto the scene in a "major market"...called up by the Pirates in 1990 and almost immediately moved to one of the biggest baseball cities of all time, Montreal, as a faceless "player to be named later." It seemed Moises was on his way to being just a blip on the baseball radar...another member of the storied Alou family if nothing else. 2 years later however, the fates converged in Quebec, and Moises was called up to play left field for the Expos and their new manager Felipe Alou (or as Moises called him "Dad"). 341 At-Bats later, Alou finished 2nd in the National League Rookie of the Year voting, after batting .282 with 9 HRs and 56 RBIs. As the years progressed, so too did Moises...getting better and better with each passing year. The 1994 season was particularly noteworthy...an impressive .339 batting average, coupled with 22 HRs and 79 RBIs. Even more impressive than the numbers was the fact that it seemed like FINALLY baseball in Montreal was becoming relevant. The 'Spos were flying high and looking like the team to beat in the National League...until the season came to a screeching halt. The infamous strike left many casualties in its wake, none greater perhaps than the state of baseball at Olympic Stadium. The Expos were left stranded 34 games over .500 and Alou finished 3rd in a tainted MVP ballot. Baseball returned, but the Expos (and Alou) never got the taste of October baseball they were certainly going to have in '94. In the winter of '96, Alou signed a contract with another losing organization...the Florida Marlins. The Marlins had only played 3 seasons with nary a winning record to speak of. At the outset of the '97 season, not many gave the Fish a second thought. But, without warning, the Men in Teal became For Real, in large part due to Alou’s career high in HRs (23) and his first 100 RBI season. The Marlins charged all the way to the World Series, where they shocked the heavily favored Cleveland Indians in 7 games. Alou hit the cover off the ball during the Fall Classic, belting 3 homers and swinging to the tune of a .321 clip. The Marlins were improbable champs and Alou was their improbable star. However, owner Wayne Huizenga did his best Rachel Phelps impression (hopefully Jim Leyland had a nude cardboard cut-out of him in the locker room during the '97 run) and completely gutted the team, auctioning off his stars to the highest bidder...Alou was shipped to Houston in return for future stars Manuel Barrios, Mark J. Johnson, and Oscar Henriquez.
Alou's stint in Houston had its high highs and low lows...The highest of highs came in his debut season as a 'Stro. The 1998 Astros club is destined to forever be on a "Prime 9" of "Best Teams to Never Win a World Series." Stocked top to bottom with All-Star level talent (even before the 11th hour trade for Randy Johnson),Houston, racked up 102 victories. Our hero had an incredible season, posting an average of .321 to go with his 38 HRs and 124 RBIs. His season has been largely overlooked by history, thanks to the Baseball Saving Maris Chase presented by BALCO. Unfortunately for Houston (and everyone really) the San Diego Padres improbably blew them away in the ALDS (in large part because neither Alou, Bagwell, nor Biggio batted over .200...just saving you the trouble of bringing that up in the comments section.)
'99 however, was marred by a treadmill accident unlike any since the Saget-Era America's Funniest Home Videos. Alou tore his ACL and missed the whole season. He'd return for the final 2 years of his contract with Houston and didn't miss a beat...two Top 20 MVP finishes, a .342 average, 57 HRs, and 222 RBIs (combined, he had the type of season Alex Rodriguez used to have on my MLB '99 game for Playstation.)
His next stop was Chicago for three seasons, where, despite injuries, he was able to put forth an average of 25 dingers, 86 ribbies and a .283 clip. Admittedly a step down from his days in Texas (an All-Star appearance and a Top 15 MVP finish notwithstanding) but, as is always the case, his team enjoyed success, coming one Steve Bartman error away from the Fall Classic.
Alou's career was clearly winding down at this point. He headed to the Giants to play for his father one more time, but injuries and a crummy team made the stint largely forgettable. So just to refresh your memory...he hit over .300 both years and was selected to his 6th All-Star game in 2006.
When the 40 year old Alou left San Fran for Shea, many thought his career had reached that embarrassing "Jerry Rice the Seahawk, Gaylord Perry the Mariner" stage. He came out of the gate strong however in 2007, batting .318 in his first month. A torn quad muscle knocked him out til August, and it seemed Alou's career had ended. However, someone apparently forgot to inform Moises, as he returned in August better than he had been in years. A .345 batting average and a 30 game hitting streak (the longest ever for a 40+ year old player) later, it seemed the Mets were bound to give the A-Man one more crack at his 2nd ring...but, like in Montreal, a work stoppage ended the Mets season and denied the Flushing Faithful a chance at October baseball....just ask any Met fan. Unfortunately, Alou's career ended with a whimper after the roar. An injury while rehabbing at Double A Binghamton spelled the end for our hero.
And so ends The Ballad of Moises Alou. He leaves a legacy of .303, 332, 1287, 2134, 6 Top 20 MVP finishes, 6 All-Star games, 4 Postseason Trips and a World Series ring. Then why do we remember him as the injury prone guy who peed on his hands? I didn't write this article to suggest the man deserves a plaque in Cooperstown. He was hurt too much, didn't hit in the playoffs enough, and was never a player pitchers quaked at the thought of facing. No no, I wrote this article to celebrate the career of a consummate professional, a winning player, a steroid era star with no asterisks. I wrote it because I wanted to remind people that there were pure ballplayers in the 1990s. I wrote it because I wanted to reminisce about a childhood favorite and a man I've always respected.
I'll never forget a bet I made with a bitter Mets fan in '07. As he whined about Alou's injury issues and called him a "waste", I bet him a beer that my boy would hit at least 10 HRs that season. He laughed, shook my hand and said "I can't wait for that beer."
I've never had a better tasting Coors Lite.
Perhaps you’re saying MOISES ALOU?!? THE GUY WHO PEED ON HIS HANDS?!? THE GUY WHO COULDN'T PLAY 3 GAMES IN THE '08 METS?!? WHO CARES ABOUT HIM!...If you are saying that, I'd ask you to please stop shouting...people probably think you are crazy. If you are indeed shouting, read on. But perhaps you are not yelling these things...perhaps you too remember Felipe's son fondly. If you are one of those, I invite you to take a walk down memory lane with me. Don't forget those glasses though...
Moises Alou was far from a flashy player. At 6'3, 190 pounds, he lacked the imposing Popeye-esque figure we became accustomed to during his era. Despite being picked 2nd overall by Pittsburgh in 1986, he didn't exactly burst onto the scene in a "major market"...called up by the Pirates in 1990 and almost immediately moved to one of the biggest baseball cities of all time, Montreal, as a faceless "player to be named later." It seemed Moises was on his way to being just a blip on the baseball radar...another member of the storied Alou family if nothing else. 2 years later however, the fates converged in Quebec, and Moises was called up to play left field for the Expos and their new manager Felipe Alou (or as Moises called him "Dad"). 341 At-Bats later, Alou finished 2nd in the National League Rookie of the Year voting, after batting .282 with 9 HRs and 56 RBIs. As the years progressed, so too did Moises...getting better and better with each passing year. The 1994 season was particularly noteworthy...an impressive .339 batting average, coupled with 22 HRs and 79 RBIs. Even more impressive than the numbers was the fact that it seemed like FINALLY baseball in Montreal was becoming relevant. The 'Spos were flying high and looking like the team to beat in the National League...until the season came to a screeching halt. The infamous strike left many casualties in its wake, none greater perhaps than the state of baseball at Olympic Stadium. The Expos were left stranded 34 games over .500 and Alou finished 3rd in a tainted MVP ballot. Baseball returned, but the Expos (and Alou) never got the taste of October baseball they were certainly going to have in '94. In the winter of '96, Alou signed a contract with another losing organization...the Florida Marlins. The Marlins had only played 3 seasons with nary a winning record to speak of. At the outset of the '97 season, not many gave the Fish a second thought. But, without warning, the Men in Teal became For Real, in large part due to Alou’s career high in HRs (23) and his first 100 RBI season. The Marlins charged all the way to the World Series, where they shocked the heavily favored Cleveland Indians in 7 games. Alou hit the cover off the ball during the Fall Classic, belting 3 homers and swinging to the tune of a .321 clip. The Marlins were improbable champs and Alou was their improbable star. However, owner Wayne Huizenga did his best Rachel Phelps impression (hopefully Jim Leyland had a nude cardboard cut-out of him in the locker room during the '97 run) and completely gutted the team, auctioning off his stars to the highest bidder...Alou was shipped to Houston in return for future stars Manuel Barrios, Mark J. Johnson, and Oscar Henriquez.
Alou's stint in Houston had its high highs and low lows...The highest of highs came in his debut season as a 'Stro. The 1998 Astros club is destined to forever be on a "Prime 9" of "Best Teams to Never Win a World Series." Stocked top to bottom with All-Star level talent (even before the 11th hour trade for Randy Johnson),Houston, racked up 102 victories. Our hero had an incredible season, posting an average of .321 to go with his 38 HRs and 124 RBIs. His season has been largely overlooked by history, thanks to the Baseball Saving Maris Chase presented by BALCO. Unfortunately for Houston (and everyone really) the San Diego Padres improbably blew them away in the ALDS (in large part because neither Alou, Bagwell, nor Biggio batted over .200...just saving you the trouble of bringing that up in the comments section.)
'99 however, was marred by a treadmill accident unlike any since the Saget-Era America's Funniest Home Videos. Alou tore his ACL and missed the whole season. He'd return for the final 2 years of his contract with Houston and didn't miss a beat...two Top 20 MVP finishes, a .342 average, 57 HRs, and 222 RBIs (combined, he had the type of season Alex Rodriguez used to have on my MLB '99 game for Playstation.)
His next stop was Chicago for three seasons, where, despite injuries, he was able to put forth an average of 25 dingers, 86 ribbies and a .283 clip. Admittedly a step down from his days in Texas (an All-Star appearance and a Top 15 MVP finish notwithstanding) but, as is always the case, his team enjoyed success, coming one Steve Bartman error away from the Fall Classic.
Alou's career was clearly winding down at this point. He headed to the Giants to play for his father one more time, but injuries and a crummy team made the stint largely forgettable. So just to refresh your memory...he hit over .300 both years and was selected to his 6th All-Star game in 2006.
When the 40 year old Alou left San Fran for Shea, many thought his career had reached that embarrassing "Jerry Rice the Seahawk, Gaylord Perry the Mariner" stage. He came out of the gate strong however in 2007, batting .318 in his first month. A torn quad muscle knocked him out til August, and it seemed Alou's career had ended. However, someone apparently forgot to inform Moises, as he returned in August better than he had been in years. A .345 batting average and a 30 game hitting streak (the longest ever for a 40+ year old player) later, it seemed the Mets were bound to give the A-Man one more crack at his 2nd ring...but, like in Montreal, a work stoppage ended the Mets season and denied the Flushing Faithful a chance at October baseball....just ask any Met fan. Unfortunately, Alou's career ended with a whimper after the roar. An injury while rehabbing at Double A Binghamton spelled the end for our hero.
And so ends The Ballad of Moises Alou. He leaves a legacy of .303, 332, 1287, 2134, 6 Top 20 MVP finishes, 6 All-Star games, 4 Postseason Trips and a World Series ring. Then why do we remember him as the injury prone guy who peed on his hands? I didn't write this article to suggest the man deserves a plaque in Cooperstown. He was hurt too much, didn't hit in the playoffs enough, and was never a player pitchers quaked at the thought of facing. No no, I wrote this article to celebrate the career of a consummate professional, a winning player, a steroid era star with no asterisks. I wrote it because I wanted to remind people that there were pure ballplayers in the 1990s. I wrote it because I wanted to reminisce about a childhood favorite and a man I've always respected.
I'll never forget a bet I made with a bitter Mets fan in '07. As he whined about Alou's injury issues and called him a "waste", I bet him a beer that my boy would hit at least 10 HRs that season. He laughed, shook my hand and said "I can't wait for that beer."
I've never had a better tasting Coors Lite.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Overachievers Anonymous
Like Rod Serling before me, tonight I submit something from your approval. I will present to you the pure statistics of two Major League Baseball teams, side by side (or on top of one another...but format is semantics at this point). I'll strip the names from the uniform and heck, I'll strip the uniforms in general (I'll also strip the players from beneath the uniform, because if you're looking for a column about nude baseball players, you sir are in the wrong place.) I'll then ask you, the loyal reader, to make a judgment call about the two squads. The lineups are the most recently "regular" lineups posted by the teams...let's call them, "Team A" and "Team B" (creativity, thy name is Mike)
TEAM A:
C: 3 HRs, 9 RBIs, .267 BA .321 OBP
1B: 11 HRs, 55 RBIs, .262 BA, .330 OBP
2B: 8 HRs, 40 RBIs, .274 BA, .340 OBP
SS: .1 HR, 13 RBIs, .260 BA, .293 OBP
3B: 2 HRs, 23 RBIs, .261 BA, .321 OBP
LF: 17 HRs, 50 RBIs, .304 BA, .386 OBP
CF: 12 HRs, 47 RBIs, .308 BA, .362 OBP
RF: 8 HRs, 56 RBIs, .290 BA, .350 OBP
TEAM B:
C: 4 HRs, 23 RBIs, .262 BA, .297 OBP
1B: 5 HRs, 26 RBIs, .246 BA, .313 OBP
2B: 0 HR, 17 RBIs, .276 BA, .374 OBP
SS: 0 HR, 11 RBIs, ..251 BA, .345 OBP
3B: 5 HRs, 43 RBIs, .325 BA, .413 OBP
LF: 10 HRs, 31 RBIs, .277 BA, .387 OBP
CF: 1 HR, 8 RBIs, .176 BA, .242 OBP
RF: 2 HRs, 21 RBIs, .285 BA, .337 OBP
Woo! I smell World Series!!! But seriously, take a look at these two clubs. Neither of them is particularly good. Team A has some nice pieces, but seems to have as many holes as a WWE storyline. Team B, however, looks like the away box score for a Triple A game. Here's another statistic. One of these teams is 38-47 and 13.5 games behind their division leader. The other is 40-43 and 4.5 behind their division leader. Neither of these teams are "good" by definition. One of these teams doesn't have a playoff prayer. One of these teams is in a race.
Give up? Team A is the Baltimore Orioles. Team B is the official whipping boys of the Gotham media, the biggest disappointment since The Phantom Menace, the biggest New York tragedy since Bernie Madoff made a few withdrawals...Ladies and gentlemen, your New York Metropolitans.
Let me follow this little prologue with a disclaimer...I know I have at least one rabid and open Oriole fan who will read this (and another who is so far in the closet, Tom Cruise is ashamed of him...but I won't name names)...I was simply using the O's as a reference point. I don't think they are a joke. They are probably the best last place team in the majors (aka the tallest midgets), they have very nice young building blocks, and Dave Trembley is a ruggedly handsome man. So PLEASE click unsend on the hate mail.
This, unfortunately, is not a column on those lovable Birds. This is an investigation into baseball's biggest paradox this season...Los Mets. Let's get one thing out of the way...I am not a Mets fan. I am not a Yankee fan. I am not a Phillie fan. I am (sadly) a Mariners fan. That *SHOULD* make me unbiased, but alas I am not. As long as its all on the table, I'll readily admit to you that I don't particularly care for the Mets. Never have, never will. Don't ask me why...
That being said, we in the tri-state area have become so inundated with columns/articles/monologues/cave paintings on how tragically bad the Mets have been in 2009. The back page of the New York Post screams it. The hosts and callers on (non Shore Sports Report) talk radio preach it. Opposing fans revel in it. The misfortune of the Mets has become something of a Thanksgiving feast for the sports media...everyone's got their forks out, ready to dig into a delicious Omar appetizer, a succulent entree of Jerry, and a tantalizing David desert (all served with a side of Ollie). The whole thing got me thinking...is the feast really there? Or are we fattening up on a spread of wax vittles?
Fred Wilpon famously said at the end of the 2008 season that he believed his team, fresh off their second consecutive humiliating collapse, had "overachieved" that season. Wilpon was roundly mocked (and justifiably so) for this...With two legitimate MVP candidates, the best all-around center fielder in baseball and arguably the most talented leadoff man in baseball, the Mets lineup looked like a championship contender. The pitching rotation, which shouldered the blame for the '07 collapse, was anchored by the newly acquired Johan Santana and he did not disappoint, finishing 3rd in Cy Young voting. Of course, their bullpen featured such luminaries as Luis Ayala, Jorge Sosa, and everyone's favorite Met...Aaron Heilman. Lead after lead was blown by this bullpen and everyone from the press to the peanut vendors screamed "SAVE US OMAR!" Save them, he did not. The season, as it had the year prior, ended with the Mets choking away the playoffs yet again on the last day of the year. Mets fans braced themselves for the backlash and New York Post headlines writers were drooling at the wealth of puns that was to come. But it never came....Fred Wilpon came out, called the team overachievers, announced that both manager Jerry Manuel and general manager Omar Minaya's jobs were safe, and then left the press conference to go drop off another check at Bernie Madoff's office. As Citi Field was being constructed, Minaya went to work on constructing the team that was to play there...in his mind, a championship team. He did not dissolve the young core that had played in NLCS two years prior as some called for. Instead, he plugged the holes in 'pen, adding the best reliever on the market and a top 5 closer in the game Francisco Rodriguez for what many considered a bargain. He added another former All-Star closer in J.J. Putz to be the set-up man via trade. With the bullpen un-sucktified, he turned an eye to the lineup. With Wright, Reyes, Delgado and Beltran, he figured he had a championship offense and instead chose to build up a bench adding utility man and Peter Gammons text buddy Alex Cora, everyone's favorite paranoid Gary Sheffield and utility outfielder Jeremy Reed. With his lineup, bullpen, and rotation (with the questionably newly minted Oliver Perez) set, O-O-O-Omar and Metssss (apologies to Sir Elton) were ready to rock. Fans were excited and various publications were predicting the Metropolitans to christen Citi Field with a World Series trip. But, as is usually the norm with New York's red-headed step child, it didn't go exactly as planned.
If you've been following baseball this year, you know exactly what happened. As the season began, it became apparent that the architects behind Citi Field had used Petco Park as their template. "Fine then!" said the boys in blue and orange, "We'll win with pitching and defense!" A lovely idea, but a seemingly impossible one, as Oliver Perez turned into circa October 2000 Rick Ankiel and the defense (specifically "Murphy's Law" Danny Murphy) turned into a Buster Keaton film. Injuries piled up and with them came misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis by the Mets medical team of Doctors Howard, Fine, and Howard. Suddenly, it was June and folks who looked at a box score the morning after a Met game were treated to the Triple A lineup we have grown to love...Where was Jose Reyes? Carlos Delgado? Carlos Beltran? Daryl Strawberry? Mets fans would have even been happy to see George Foster's name in the lineup...at least he had some power! In the words of the grand philosopher Michael Ray Richardson..."the ship be sinking." There was more gnashing of teeth and beating of breasts in Queens than in the Old Testament...things were bad for the Mets and there were only getting worse and worse each passing day. But a funny thing happened...they never went away. They never had that 12 game losing streak that buried them. Perhaps its an indictment on the top of the division (I'm looking at you, champs), but the Mets never fell out of contention. Despite all the injuries, all the laughable failures, and all the apparent apathy from the front office, the New York Mets have kept one foot out of the grave. Don't get me wrong...the other foot is indeed in the grave and sinking. As the offense continues its silent protest against violence on baseballs and the pitching staff continues to struggle, the Mets come closer and closer to their appointment at Willoughby Funeral Home. But it hasn't come yet. Yes somehow the Metsises have remained psuedo-competitive despite a lineup that features has-beens, never-wases, and David Wright. I've always been a big proponent of Bill Parcells' credo..."pass the rolls." I also enjoy his other credo..."You are what your record says you are." That is absolutely true. Right now, the Mets are sub .500 team. 5 games under, to be exact. But if I told you at the outset of the year that a team was going to run Alex Cora, Gary Sheffield, Fernando Tatis and a slew of minor leaguers onto the field every day and on any given day could have the names "T. Redding", "L. Hernandez" or "F. Nieve" in the pitching form, what would you have predicted their record as? I'll answer that for you...ATROCIOUS. Refer back to the top of this post. On most nights, the Baltimore Orioles run out a team that, aside from David Wright, would not have a starting spot for ANYONE currently in the Mets starting lineup. The O's are 13 games out of 1st place. The Mets are 5.5. Perhaps that is misleading, as the Birdies in Black play in the best division in baseball, while the Mets play in the worst. So here's another one for you..."Tale of the Tape" wise, there are four positions that the putrid Washington Nationals have an everyday advantage over the Mets in (some might even argue five...the Wright/Zimmerman debate is going to be the DiMaggio/Williams of the '10s!)
The Mets are not a good team. The Mets are a bad team. That's why they are under .500. But they are not a TRAGIC team. At 4 games under .500, by the grace of God, they are still in the race for the National League East. If someone had told me in March that that was going to be the state of affairs in Queens, I would have (after chuckling) shook my head and said "How is that even possible?" So yes, where the Mets sit right now is disappointing. That being said, if someone had told me in March that the Mets were going to lose Carlos Delgado, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Brian Schneider, Ryan Church, Oliver Perez, and J.J. Putz to moderate to long DL stints before the All-Star Game, I would have (after chuckling) made the sign of the cross and given last rites to a team that would CERTAINLY (in my simple mind) have been 10-15 games off the division lead and d-e-a-d.
Perhaps the Mets will only sink further and further into the grave, ala the last few years of Zsa Zsa Gabor's life. Perhaps, like Godot before them, the reinforcements will never arrive. Perhaps the season is indeed lost. For the record, my gun to the head prediction would be that this team doesn't sniff the postseason. However...the Mets (provided they do not get swept by the Reds this weekend) sit in a position wherein if the reinforcements DO come back and Omar actually DOES get off his kiester and make a trade...perhaps we won't have to fire up the Chopin's Sonata No. 2. Perhaps the Song of Shea this year will be a refrain of early season collapse with a crescendo of late season run. Yes, you aren't going crazy....a New York/New Jersey sports guy is writing a POSITIVE column about the Mets. Kudos to Jerry Manuel for not letting the ship go entirely under. Kudos to Omar Minaya for building a championship bench (he can get a few more kudos if he actually...oh I don't know, DOES SOMETHING before its too late). Kudos to David Wright for doing his damnedest to keep the team afloat. And kudos to guys like our buddy Pete from Howell for never giving hope on this rag-tag team of minor leaguers. As they say in the Shawshank Redemption...."Hope is a good thing...maybe the best of things...and no good thing ever dies."
Its a long season folks.
TEAM A:
C: 3 HRs, 9 RBIs, .267 BA .321 OBP
1B: 11 HRs, 55 RBIs, .262 BA, .330 OBP
2B: 8 HRs, 40 RBIs, .274 BA, .340 OBP
SS: .1 HR, 13 RBIs, .260 BA, .293 OBP
3B: 2 HRs, 23 RBIs, .261 BA, .321 OBP
LF: 17 HRs, 50 RBIs, .304 BA, .386 OBP
CF: 12 HRs, 47 RBIs, .308 BA, .362 OBP
RF: 8 HRs, 56 RBIs, .290 BA, .350 OBP
TEAM B:
C: 4 HRs, 23 RBIs, .262 BA, .297 OBP
1B: 5 HRs, 26 RBIs, .246 BA, .313 OBP
2B: 0 HR, 17 RBIs, .276 BA, .374 OBP
SS: 0 HR, 11 RBIs, ..251 BA, .345 OBP
3B: 5 HRs, 43 RBIs, .325 BA, .413 OBP
LF: 10 HRs, 31 RBIs, .277 BA, .387 OBP
CF: 1 HR, 8 RBIs, .176 BA, .242 OBP
RF: 2 HRs, 21 RBIs, .285 BA, .337 OBP
Woo! I smell World Series!!! But seriously, take a look at these two clubs. Neither of them is particularly good. Team A has some nice pieces, but seems to have as many holes as a WWE storyline. Team B, however, looks like the away box score for a Triple A game. Here's another statistic. One of these teams is 38-47 and 13.5 games behind their division leader. The other is 40-43 and 4.5 behind their division leader. Neither of these teams are "good" by definition. One of these teams doesn't have a playoff prayer. One of these teams is in a race.
Give up? Team A is the Baltimore Orioles. Team B is the official whipping boys of the Gotham media, the biggest disappointment since The Phantom Menace, the biggest New York tragedy since Bernie Madoff made a few withdrawals...Ladies and gentlemen, your New York Metropolitans.
Let me follow this little prologue with a disclaimer...I know I have at least one rabid and open Oriole fan who will read this (and another who is so far in the closet, Tom Cruise is ashamed of him...but I won't name names)...I was simply using the O's as a reference point. I don't think they are a joke. They are probably the best last place team in the majors (aka the tallest midgets), they have very nice young building blocks, and Dave Trembley is a ruggedly handsome man. So PLEASE click unsend on the hate mail.
This, unfortunately, is not a column on those lovable Birds. This is an investigation into baseball's biggest paradox this season...Los Mets. Let's get one thing out of the way...I am not a Mets fan. I am not a Yankee fan. I am not a Phillie fan. I am (sadly) a Mariners fan. That *SHOULD* make me unbiased, but alas I am not. As long as its all on the table, I'll readily admit to you that I don't particularly care for the Mets. Never have, never will. Don't ask me why...
That being said, we in the tri-state area have become so inundated with columns/articles/monologues/cave paintings on how tragically bad the Mets have been in 2009. The back page of the New York Post screams it. The hosts and callers on (non Shore Sports Report) talk radio preach it. Opposing fans revel in it. The misfortune of the Mets has become something of a Thanksgiving feast for the sports media...everyone's got their forks out, ready to dig into a delicious Omar appetizer, a succulent entree of Jerry, and a tantalizing David desert (all served with a side of Ollie). The whole thing got me thinking...is the feast really there? Or are we fattening up on a spread of wax vittles?
Fred Wilpon famously said at the end of the 2008 season that he believed his team, fresh off their second consecutive humiliating collapse, had "overachieved" that season. Wilpon was roundly mocked (and justifiably so) for this...With two legitimate MVP candidates, the best all-around center fielder in baseball and arguably the most talented leadoff man in baseball, the Mets lineup looked like a championship contender. The pitching rotation, which shouldered the blame for the '07 collapse, was anchored by the newly acquired Johan Santana and he did not disappoint, finishing 3rd in Cy Young voting. Of course, their bullpen featured such luminaries as Luis Ayala, Jorge Sosa, and everyone's favorite Met...Aaron Heilman. Lead after lead was blown by this bullpen and everyone from the press to the peanut vendors screamed "SAVE US OMAR!" Save them, he did not. The season, as it had the year prior, ended with the Mets choking away the playoffs yet again on the last day of the year. Mets fans braced themselves for the backlash and New York Post headlines writers were drooling at the wealth of puns that was to come. But it never came....Fred Wilpon came out, called the team overachievers, announced that both manager Jerry Manuel and general manager Omar Minaya's jobs were safe, and then left the press conference to go drop off another check at Bernie Madoff's office. As Citi Field was being constructed, Minaya went to work on constructing the team that was to play there...in his mind, a championship team. He did not dissolve the young core that had played in NLCS two years prior as some called for. Instead, he plugged the holes in 'pen, adding the best reliever on the market and a top 5 closer in the game Francisco Rodriguez for what many considered a bargain. He added another former All-Star closer in J.J. Putz to be the set-up man via trade. With the bullpen un-sucktified, he turned an eye to the lineup. With Wright, Reyes, Delgado and Beltran, he figured he had a championship offense and instead chose to build up a bench adding utility man and Peter Gammons text buddy Alex Cora, everyone's favorite paranoid Gary Sheffield and utility outfielder Jeremy Reed. With his lineup, bullpen, and rotation (with the questionably newly minted Oliver Perez) set, O-O-O-Omar and Metssss (apologies to Sir Elton) were ready to rock. Fans were excited and various publications were predicting the Metropolitans to christen Citi Field with a World Series trip. But, as is usually the norm with New York's red-headed step child, it didn't go exactly as planned.
If you've been following baseball this year, you know exactly what happened. As the season began, it became apparent that the architects behind Citi Field had used Petco Park as their template. "Fine then!" said the boys in blue and orange, "We'll win with pitching and defense!" A lovely idea, but a seemingly impossible one, as Oliver Perez turned into circa October 2000 Rick Ankiel and the defense (specifically "Murphy's Law" Danny Murphy) turned into a Buster Keaton film. Injuries piled up and with them came misdiagnosis after misdiagnosis by the Mets medical team of Doctors Howard, Fine, and Howard. Suddenly, it was June and folks who looked at a box score the morning after a Met game were treated to the Triple A lineup we have grown to love...Where was Jose Reyes? Carlos Delgado? Carlos Beltran? Daryl Strawberry? Mets fans would have even been happy to see George Foster's name in the lineup...at least he had some power! In the words of the grand philosopher Michael Ray Richardson..."the ship be sinking." There was more gnashing of teeth and beating of breasts in Queens than in the Old Testament...things were bad for the Mets and there were only getting worse and worse each passing day. But a funny thing happened...they never went away. They never had that 12 game losing streak that buried them. Perhaps its an indictment on the top of the division (I'm looking at you, champs), but the Mets never fell out of contention. Despite all the injuries, all the laughable failures, and all the apparent apathy from the front office, the New York Mets have kept one foot out of the grave. Don't get me wrong...the other foot is indeed in the grave and sinking. As the offense continues its silent protest against violence on baseballs and the pitching staff continues to struggle, the Mets come closer and closer to their appointment at Willoughby Funeral Home. But it hasn't come yet. Yes somehow the Metsises have remained psuedo-competitive despite a lineup that features has-beens, never-wases, and David Wright. I've always been a big proponent of Bill Parcells' credo..."pass the rolls." I also enjoy his other credo..."You are what your record says you are." That is absolutely true. Right now, the Mets are sub .500 team. 5 games under, to be exact. But if I told you at the outset of the year that a team was going to run Alex Cora, Gary Sheffield, Fernando Tatis and a slew of minor leaguers onto the field every day and on any given day could have the names "T. Redding", "L. Hernandez" or "F. Nieve" in the pitching form, what would you have predicted their record as? I'll answer that for you...ATROCIOUS. Refer back to the top of this post. On most nights, the Baltimore Orioles run out a team that, aside from David Wright, would not have a starting spot for ANYONE currently in the Mets starting lineup. The O's are 13 games out of 1st place. The Mets are 5.5. Perhaps that is misleading, as the Birdies in Black play in the best division in baseball, while the Mets play in the worst. So here's another one for you..."Tale of the Tape" wise, there are four positions that the putrid Washington Nationals have an everyday advantage over the Mets in (some might even argue five...the Wright/Zimmerman debate is going to be the DiMaggio/Williams of the '10s!)
The Mets are not a good team. The Mets are a bad team. That's why they are under .500. But they are not a TRAGIC team. At 4 games under .500, by the grace of God, they are still in the race for the National League East. If someone had told me in March that that was going to be the state of affairs in Queens, I would have (after chuckling) shook my head and said "How is that even possible?" So yes, where the Mets sit right now is disappointing. That being said, if someone had told me in March that the Mets were going to lose Carlos Delgado, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Brian Schneider, Ryan Church, Oliver Perez, and J.J. Putz to moderate to long DL stints before the All-Star Game, I would have (after chuckling) made the sign of the cross and given last rites to a team that would CERTAINLY (in my simple mind) have been 10-15 games off the division lead and d-e-a-d.
Perhaps the Mets will only sink further and further into the grave, ala the last few years of Zsa Zsa Gabor's life. Perhaps, like Godot before them, the reinforcements will never arrive. Perhaps the season is indeed lost. For the record, my gun to the head prediction would be that this team doesn't sniff the postseason. However...the Mets (provided they do not get swept by the Reds this weekend) sit in a position wherein if the reinforcements DO come back and Omar actually DOES get off his kiester and make a trade...perhaps we won't have to fire up the Chopin's Sonata No. 2. Perhaps the Song of Shea this year will be a refrain of early season collapse with a crescendo of late season run. Yes, you aren't going crazy....a New York/New Jersey sports guy is writing a POSITIVE column about the Mets. Kudos to Jerry Manuel for not letting the ship go entirely under. Kudos to Omar Minaya for building a championship bench (he can get a few more kudos if he actually...oh I don't know, DOES SOMETHING before its too late). Kudos to David Wright for doing his damnedest to keep the team afloat. And kudos to guys like our buddy Pete from Howell for never giving hope on this rag-tag team of minor leaguers. As they say in the Shawshank Redemption...."Hope is a good thing...maybe the best of things...and no good thing ever dies."
Its a long season folks.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)