The Futility Infielder

Hola amigos, been awhile since I rapped at ya, at least in this forum. The past week and a half has been a whirlwind: four promotional appearances on behalf of Baseball Prospectus 2007 in such exotic places as New Haven, Montclair, New Jersey and the Columbia University campus, five radio appearances in markets such as Atlanta, Baltimore, St. Louis, and wherever it is that gets Sirius' "The Fellas," (which completes my sweep of the satellite radio networks), one article for BP's preseason "Hope and Faith" series (with an accompanying BP Radio interview), about 16,000 words worth of Fantasy Baseball Index spring update coverage, and the chance to break bread or bend elbows with a fine bunch of BP colleagues and assorted friends. Oh, and one sushi bet on the length of Doug Mientkiewicz's leash. Suffice it to say that I've talked a lot of baseball since you last saw me here. If you came out to see or tuned in to hear me, so much the better -- and thank you for showing up.

About that "Hope and Faith" piece, the idea was to take Bud Selig's deathless catchphrase from the 2001-2002 labor negotiations about how few teams actually had a chance to win it all, and to illustrate -- sometimes with the aid of fiction or pharmaceuticals -- how that particular team might win the World Series. I had one of the easier ones, the Dodgers:

As you've seen throughout the past month here at Baseball Prospectus, hope and faith is not distributed evenly among major league baseball clubs. Some teams' shots at October are relatively straightforward, while for others, the fine writers who have graced this series have often need to wax creative or even wander in the desert under the influence of peyote-like substances to summon the requisite visions of champagne-soaked glory.

The Dodgers would appear to fall into the former category. In General Manager Ned Colletti's first year at the helm, the team won the NL Wild Card despite a wildly up-and-down season. But for a few bad breaks (such as the beer glass that sliced up Joe Beimel's hand) and assorted aches (Nomar Garciaparra's hamstring, Brad Penny's back), they might have played ball deep into October. Salve a few wounds, spackle a few dings and cracks, paint liberally with Dodger blue and--voilà--contender, right?

Not so fast. As has been the case since the moment he took over, Colletti spent the past winter confounding both admirers and detractors with his wheelings and dealings. One minute he was overcompensating for J.D. Drew's abrupt departure by re-upping Garciaparra to a two-year deal, drawing ridicule for dishing out one of the winter's worst contracts to Juan Pierre, and signing a Luis Gonzalez so long in the tooth he could be mistaken for Bugs Bunny. The next minute, he was earning kudos for inking Jason Schmidt to the kind of short-term, big-dollar deal that has served the team's interests well with regards to Rafael Furcal and Jeff Kent. Other good news? Non-tendering Toby Hall, and... um... avoiding the temptation to trade Matt Kemp, Andy LaRoche, and Chad Billingsley to the Devil Rays in a package deal for the bleached bones of Doug Waechter and a pair of unwashed Mark Hendrickson lederhosen (the Rays won't accept a return to sender on Hendrickson himself).

I went on to identify four players and one executive whose seasons will be the bellwether of the Dodgers' fate. For Brad Penny and Nomar Garciaparra, the key is to stay healthy and provide more of the good stuff they gave the Dodgers when healthy last year, and -- duh -- less of the bad. For Matt Kemp and Chad Billingsley, the key is to live up to all that potential and force their way into the lineup or rotation, burying the mediocrities by the wayside. For Ned Colletti, it's staying away from his "Stupid Flanders" tendency to burn off high-upside prospects for the next Toby Hall/Hendrickson package.

You can hear the accompanying BP Radio spot I did for this piece here. And be sure to check out Rany Jazayerli's fantastic finale to the H&F series here.

• Speaking of Toby Hall, man, did I put the hex on him or what?

• Alex Belth chipped in the Yankees' Hope and Faith piece, but the Belth piece you should really read is his interview with Curt Schiling at SI.com. For all of the bad things I've said about Schilling over the years -- and there have been plenty -- I have to applaud the way his new blog does an end run around the Dan Shaughnessys of the world, the self-important insiders whose only real skill, at this point, is knowing how to procure a press pass. Schilling more or less broke the news about the Sox returning Jonathan Papelbon to the closer role, and you know some of those hacks had to break out in a cold sweat, knowing they were just a little bit less relevant than before.

The Big Schill even stuck up for BP in one question:

SI.com: Do you think that Internet-based baseball analysts and writers should be available for BBWAA awards and Hall of Fame voting?

Schilling: Oh, it'll come full-circle at some point. Why wouldn't it? They already have a much larger impact than the Murray Chass' of the world would like to believe. I mean, you've got guys who are putting out what I know to be legitimately valuable statistical information and its relevance to a game in a win or a loss at Baseball Prospectus. Then you have guys that I'm not too fond of, like Murray Chass, who says, "What is VORP and who cares?" It was a stupid article. The only thing it did was show his ignorance to me in modern day baseball. Because those numbers do matter, those numbers do have value. Do they have value to me in getting a player out? No. But I would tell you that there are a lot of front offices that use those numbers for a lot of important decision making.

I'm not so sure that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, but Schilling's going to have to work extra hard to make my blood boil the way he usually does. I'll wager he can pull it off.

• Tangential to Alex B., Allen Barra makes his debut as a guest blogger at Bronx Banter, and part of the pleasure of reading his very entertaining piece is that after sitting across the table from him after BP's recent outing at the Yogi Berra Museum, I can practically hear him reciting it:

Hello. Some of you may know me as Allen Barra. Some of you may know me under my pseudonyms, Norman Mailer -- check out The Naked and The Dead, it kicks butt -- or Eleanor Holmes-Norton, the black congresswoman from D.C -- I'm thinking of giving up that identity as it forces me to do too much writing from the bleachers while watching Nationals games.

I promised Alex Belth that I would do this blog, so here I am. I wanted to call him up this morning and say, "I'm not responsible for the decisions I make when I've been drinking." But then the horrible truth struck me: I don't drink, and I actually made the decision to do this while sober. This has to rank with the worst decisions I ever made in my life, right up there with not returning Angelina Jolie's phone call.

Bemoan that though he may, Barra must have eventually returned Ms. Jolie's call, because in the handful of times I've hung out with him, he's always got a new story about hanging out with her (my favorite is the one about this photo). I wonder if she's a baseball fan.

• Elsewhere on Baseball Toaster, I stumbled into the wonderful Cardboard Gods blog and killed a good hour laughing my ass off. I've read and re-read the most recent Kurt Bevacqua entry, where writer Josh Wilker notes the horrible airbrushing done to the Mariners' expansion draftees in the 1977 Topps set and imagines the new team materializing just beyond the blurry horizon, like figures in a classic Leone western but trapped in some horrible existential limbo. "I think we’re in a horseshit operation," grumbles the Bevacqua character to the Pete Broberg character, and you know it's going to be a long eternity for both.

Labels: BP07, Dodgers

• After 12 years of living in the East Village, I'm Brooklyn-bound. On Thursday, my wife and I signed a contract and put down a deposit on a 1,250-square foot apartment in downtown Brooklyn, one that will allow me to have a dedicated home office AND keep a room in reserve for a Jaffe To Be Named Later, not that we're "expecting" yet. The unit is still under construction and we won't close for at least a couple of months, but it's a very exciting development even if it does take us out of Manhattan. Most of our friends have long since moved to Brooklyn, and we desperately need the space, as we're coming up on four years in a 450-square foot apartment that requires us to go outside to change our minds. The downtown Brooklyn area is a bit raw at the moment (which is what made our space so affordable), but with a ton of civic planning in the pipeline, it's set to undergo a major facelift over the next few years.

In other words, we're now carpet-bagging, gentrification-chasing scum. Ask me how I feel about that when I won't have to double-stack books on my bookshelves or schlep a good quarter of my stuff into storage. Ask my wife how she'll feel when she's able to shut the door to my office and avoid the ever-growing pile of books, magazines, mail, computer cables and assorted whatever that's practically reached sculpture status during this past offseason. Ask me about the dining room table that will finally enable us to eat like adults on a daily basis, not that we'll actually do so because when else would we watch the previous night's Daily Show?

The baseball angle, of course, is that I'm finally moving to the borough where my favorite team originated, and only fifty years too late. I intend to do all of those historical things like tracking down the Ebbets Field plaque and the Washington Park wall that I've never done because frankly, I don't know my way around Brooklyn yet. Finding them will be part of my learning experience.

I have already come across one very cool baseball-related monument not ten minutes from my new home. It happened by accident when Andra and I were casing the neighborhood for the first time on the day after our bid was accepted, and it stopped me in my tracks. At 215 Montague Street, on the outside of Commerce Bank, is a plaque commemorating the fact that the Brooklyn Dodgers' front offices once resided on that spot. In those offices, on August 28, 1945, Dodger President and GM Branch Rickey signed Jackie Robinson to an agreement to play for the Dodger organization, thus initiating the chain of events that allowed him to break the major-league color barrier less than two years later.



For somebody who can turn Chapter Six of Ken Burns' Baseball in to a three-hanky special, it was a total goosebump moment. Stumbling across the plaque by happenstance felt like a good omen. And soon I'll be able to see it just about anytime I want.

Anyway, you can read more about the plaque here.

• As announced last week, Baseball Prospectus 2007 is on the New York Times Bestseller List for the first time in its 12-year history. The March 18 list had BP07 at #15 on the Paperback Advice, How-To and Miscellaneous list, while on the March 25 one, we're up to #9. Look out, What to Expect When You're Expecting bitchez (ironically, published by BP's former publisher).

A reminder that I'll be on the promo trail for BP this week and next:

• Thursday, March 22, 6:00 PM with Christina Kahrl, Steven Goldman, Neil DeMause, Derek Jacques, and Will Weiss
  
  Columbia University
  Lerner Hall
  2920 Broadway (@ 114th Street)
  New York, NY
  
  
• Saturday, March 24, 2:00 PM with Christina Kahrl, Steven Goldman, Ben Murphy, John Erhardt, Neil DeMause, Jim Baker, Derek Jacques, Will Weiss, Clay Davenport, Will Carroll, Kevin Goldstein, and Marc Normandin
  
  Yogi Berra Musuem
  Monclair State University
  8 Quarry Road
  Little Falls, NJ 07424
  973-655-2378
  
  
• Monday, March 26, 6:00 pm with Steven Goldman and Neil DeMause
  
  Barnes & Noble
  Yale University
  77 Broadway
  New Haven, CT 06511
  203-777-8440
  

If you're not in the area, see the BP events page for local listings in your market (not that all are as well-served as the Tri-State area).

• Last weekend, I got my copy of Bombers Broadside, which is now shipping from Amazon.



It's a nice piece of work, 112 pages of glossy, full color, pinstripe-flavored content about the current team as well as its illustrious history -- including features about the 1977 champions, and Babe Ruth's (in)famous "Called Shot" -- sure to appeal to Yankee fans, and featuring a roster that includes myself, editor Cecilia Tan, Alex Belth, Mike Carminati, Vince Genarro, Gary Gillette, Mark Healey, Derek Jacques, Tara Krieger, David Laurila, Dan McCourt, and Pete Palmer. I'll wager a guess that more than one of those names means something to those of you reading this, so cut yourself a slice. Belth's bittersweet piece on his childhood memories of Reggie Jackson and his recently deceased father is worth the price of admission alone.

Labels: BP07, Brooklyn, Dodgers, non-baseball, promotion

On Thursday night I got together with Bronx Banter's Alex Belth and Cliff Corcoran and SI.com's Jake Luft for some burgers and balltalk. It was typically rambunctious, with the four of us barely restraining ourselves from talking over each other like sugared-up six-year-olds as we discussed Bernie Williams, fantasy baseball, Ronnie Lott (how'd he get in there?), Steve Rushin, Tropicana Field, spring training and the Hall of Fame. If only I could remember what I was supposed to check out on YouTube...

Cliff, who edited Baseball Prospectus 2007 for Plume (a division of Penguin), showed up carrying his hot-off-the-press copy of the book, promising mine would arrive Friday, albeit with slighly less ketchup on the cover. It did, and aside from a couple of surprise commas -- them's the breaks when you play subordinate-clause chicken as often as I do -- I couldn't be happier. My contributions to the book were the Dodgers and Red Sox chapters, as well as a back-of-book collaboration with Will Carroll on the effects of the amphetamine ban.

The book is 48 pages longer than last year, weighing in at 602 in all (biggest BP ever, I'm told), and the switch in publishers from Workman to Plume looks like the difference between Scranton and New York City. Hats off to BP editors Steven Goldman and Christina Kahrl, as well as Cliff, for a job well done. We at BP like to say that we write the baseball book that we'd want to read. Here's hoping you readers come along for the ride and enjoy the advances we've made.

On the promotional front here in NYC, the March 22 Columbia University time and location have been changed:

March 22, 6 PM
Columbia University
Lerner Hall
2920 Broadway (@ 114th Street)
New York, NY

The changes inadvertently accomodate my previous commitments (Willie Nelson, Merle Haggard and Ray Price getting their Western Schwing on at Radio City) and thus shift me from tentative to probable, with a 60 percent likelihood of watermelon smashing. Consider yourselves warned.

Labels: BP07, promotion

Please allow me to reintroduce myself... yes, I'm back in circulation here. Back on the street, back on the beat, back in the saddle again. Back, back, back... waaay back! Pitchers and Catchers are reporting, my winter travels are over, and nearly all of my projects have been put to bed, meaning that it's time for me to scrape the barnacles off this site after the longest hiatus I've taken in its nearly six-year history. If you came here through the front door, you've probably already had a look at some of the fun stuff I labored over this winter.

Labored as in for real cash money, the kind you don't get to take if you don't deliver quality product on deadline, hence the reason I had to short myself the opportunity to blog here on a regular basis. It's a tough tradeoff, but the exciting part is the money was hardly incidental, allowing me to turn away even some lucrative design projects I would have leapt for at a different time. It's a wonderfully exciting thing to write about baseball for a living, though it's hardly a rose garden. While I wish I could say I handled the overwhelming workload that I took on with all the grace and professionalism of a Derek Jeter, the truth is a bit more... well... they say a picture's worth a thousand words, so:



Yes, dear readers, I'm afraid that's me. With as many as four projects going at the same time and four editors to answer to, I got a wee bit stressed out as deadlines approached, the 14-hour days blurred into one another, and the pile of books, papers, unopened mail, CDs, computer cables and assorted detritus took on organic qualities as a living, breathing entity that demanded ever more floor space. Only by donning the superhero costume given to me for Xmas by my in-laws was I able to take the heat, shut out the voices in my head, and breathe without the assistance of a brown paper bag. Seriously, it was either that or some trepanning. Somehow, I survived, and kept my editors from putting a price on my head instead of my words.

You see, what happened was that I took on three months worth of work without realizing that I'd already booked myself into a month's worth of vacations during that span. From a wonderful week in Barcelona with my wife (cashing in those frequent flyer miles), to five days over the holidaays with my folks in Salt Lake and four more with Andra's in Milwaukee, to a recent week in Maui (again with my folks as ell as my brother and his fiancé), I had plenty of opportunities for recreation and was able to take advantage of almost none of them, at least after the Spain trip. I drank no eggnog while suckling at the wireless teat of the Milwaukee Public Library, nor did I tan in Hawaii, so much time in front of my laptop (a new MacBook, bought just in time for all the action) did I spend. The phrase "guilt trip" took on new meaning, though my parents, in-laws, brother, and most of all wife were incredibly understanding and supportive throughout. I am in their debt for their eternal patience.

Outside of the trips, day-to-day socializing was almost nil once you exclude instant messaging; I was chained to my desk, working insane hours, writing more than 500 player capsules and something like 14 different feature-length essays (including my annual JAWS series, which was horribly ill-timed within this workload). Aside from my allotted hour of TV every night before bed -- needed to decompress so that I wouldn't toss and turn over spreadsheets in the bedsheets -- "relaxing" meant considering my next task instead of the one directly in front of me. Conversations with friends were conducted with all the patience of a guy with one eye on the meter of a double-parked taxicab during rush hour. I was a workaholic, addicted to workahol and able to deal with little else.

Anyway, this ain't no pity party, this ain't no disco, this ain't no foolin' round. Vacations, unconditional love, and being able to make a living doing something that you enjoy are all blessings, though the combination of same nearly drove me insane without the ability to vent now and then here at my little blog. Which is why I'm so glad to be back. With the exception of one chapter still on my plate, and probably some revisions here and there, those projects are in the can.

Already on newsstands is Fantasy Baseball Index 2007, the essential Rotisserie mag. This year I wrote the pitcher capsules, a task that no matter how exciting it may seem on the surface, takes on a brutal edge once you're forced to come up with 75 words about the fourth fifth-starter candidate on a second-division club. I also wrote a feature on estimating ERAs, covering fun stuff like DIPS (2.0 and David Gassko's fine 3.0 -- and yes, that means I can announce my retirement from tending that particular store), FIP, and QERA.

I covered two teams for Baseball Prospectus 2007, the Dodgers and the Red Sox. While the latter may net some double-takes from those of you who know my feelings toward the franchise, rest assured that I'm quite capable of objectively analyzing them. I've written chapters for Mind Game and made appearances on NESN, all without referencing, say, my eternal loathing for the Big Schill, and there's no way in hell the BP editors would jeopardize such a huge portion of our demographic with anything less than quality analysis. Hell, they even cut my Kevin Jarvis capsule down to a "Line Out" (the catch-all in the back of chapter, sans PECOTAs), which isn't to say that all my punches got pulled. Anyway, after last summer's dreadful collapse, I suspect most intelligent Sox fans can stomach a clear-eyed take on the state of the organization.

Which doesn't mean I left the Yankees out of this winter's equation. On the contrary, I contributed two features to Bomber Broadside 2007, a 112-page collection of essays from Maple Street Press, edited by Cecilia Tan. Last year MSP did a similar book about the Red Sox, and this year they decided to expand to cover the Cubs (Wrigley Season Ticket 2007, edited by Stu Shea) and Tigers (Tigers Corner 2007, edited by Gary Gillette) as well as the Sox (whose annual is edited by MSP founder Jim Walsh).

The book is full of thought-provoking essays covering the past, present and future of the Yanks. From the website:

Bombers Broadside 2007 gives you a report on the 2007 Yankees through scouting reports from real working major league scouts. This insider information is exclusive to Bombers Broadside, and will get you up to speed on the new team quickly. Also included is an analysis of Chien-Ming Wang and his leap to Cy Young contention in 2006. Further, a look at the age factors on the 2007 roster is provided, along with which of the Yankee stalwarts is likely to fade. The enigmatic Alex Rodriquez is also examined in detail, and what led him to become such a lightning rod in the Bronx. You'll also learn just how much revenue the team generates for each win on the field and the financial differences between 85 wins, 95 wins, and even a World Championship, as well as the importance of the YES network, and how it changed the landscape of Major League Baseball.

Further, you'll get a look at Yankees history, including a 30th anniversary look back on Reggie Jackson's arrival in the Bronx and the eventual World Series championship he would help deliver. The career of Billy Martin is also re-considered, and where he fits in the Yankees legacy. Moreover, the book looks at the Babe's called shot in the 1932 World Series and looks to separate fact from fiction in this famed tale.

Bombers Broadside also evaluates the entire organization, including an overview and ranking of the team's top prospects, an interview with phenom Philip Hughes and a look at the production the Yankees have got out of their farm system in recent years. Moreover, the fallacy of the bankrupt Yankee farm system is explored, along with the emergence of young Yankee players like Robinson Cano and Melky Cabrera.

The essay on Wang's ascendancy is mine, as is a piece about Brian Cashman's bold power play -- putting the Tampa mafia in its place -- and the the fruit borne from his efforts to remake the Yankees' rotation. Those topics will be somewhat familiar to FI readers, but rest assured, there's a whole lot of new stuff there, particularly given that I've said next to nothing about the Bombers this winter in this space. I'm not sure I'm at liberty yet to reveal who else is on on the project, but there are some familiar big names (at least within the blogosphere) that won't disappoint you.

As for the final project, it's just starting to come into focus in the public eye, and again, I'm not sure I can say too much yet. The BP team is in the process of creating a new tome to be published by Basic Books, It Ain't Over 'Til It's Over: The Baseball Prospectus Pennant Race Book. It's our first historically-based book, our effort to rank the great races in baseball history. Peerless leader/editor Steven Goldman wrote a bit about the project here (scroll down to the 1984 heading at bottom) and spoke of the book on BP Radio (23:30 in, roughly, and yes, there's some feedback there which forces him to repeat himself). I'm proud to say that I'm one of the book's lead writers, covering two of the best races (believe it or not, the Dodgers and Red Sox pop up again) and writing several features on various aspects of those seasons and others. The book should be out in August, and rest assured I'll have plenty to say about it as time marches on.

Anyway, I'm full of stuff to share here, and I'll begin doing so over the next several days. Hibernation is over, it's time to play ball!

Labels: BP07

• The results for the 2006 Hall of Fame voting have been announced. Not surprisingly, Cal Ripken Jr. (98.53 percent of the 545 votes) and Tony Gwynn (97.6 percent) were elected. Ripken appeared on the most ballots ever, but had "only" the third highest percentage behind Tom Seaver (98.83) and Nolan Ryan (98.79).

• Rich Gossage just missed being elected by 21 votes; his percentage has risen from 55.2 percent in 2005 to 64.6 percent last year to 71.2 percent this year. I think it's a pretty solid bet he gets in next year, with the writers' desires to keep the podium clear for Ripken and Gwynn the main reason he didn't get in this year.

• Other than Gossage and Dave Concepcion, every other repeat candidate on the ballot saw his percentage decrease. Bert Blyleven dropped below 50 percent, just a year after climbing above that level. That's significant because every candidate who's crossed the 50 percent threshold has gotten in with the exception of Gil Hodges and three men on the current ballot: Blyleven, Gossage, Jim Rice, and Andre Dawson.

• Mark McGwire wasn't even close, at 23.5 percent, but he stays on the ballot, which may allow cooler heads to prevail.

• The dream is over for Steve Garvey (whose eligibility expired aftter 15 years). Dropping off the ballot by receiving less than five percent of the vote: Orel Hershiser, Albert Belle, Paul O'Neill, Bret Saberhagen, Jose Canseco (bye, schmuck), Tony Fernandez, Dante Bichette, Eric Davis, Bobby Bonilla, Ken Caminiti, Jay Buhner, Scott Brosius, Wally Joyner, Devon White, and Bobby Witt. All but the latter four received at least one vote, which is kind of scary when you think about somebody seriously considering Bichette.

• My JAWS article on pitchers went up earlier today, as did an expanded ranking of the Reliever Adjusted JAWS rankings at Unfiltered. Yesterday's Unfiltered featured a look at the JAWS rankings of every #1 draft pick; Harold Baines (1977 #1 who narrowly managed to stay on the ballot at 5.3 percent) is third all-time behind Ken Griffey Jr. (who will be the first HOFer from among those ranks) and Alex Rodriguez (who's already #1).

• Joe Sheehan uses JAWS to look at some of the ballot's perennial bridesmaids, including his personal favorite, Don Mattingly. I think he sums the JAWS mission up nicely: "JAWS shouldn't be the be-all and end-all of a Hall of Fame discussion. Players should receive markers for postseason performance, for awards, for contributions to championships, for elements not captured in the statistical record. However, an objective standard is necessary, or the argument becomes bogged down in preferences and fandom."

• We'll chat about all of this at 4 PM EST.

Labels: BP07, JAWS, non-baseball, Unfiltered

Happy New Year, everybody! I'm back in NYC, still buried under an avalanche of work, beating editors back with a fungo bat while sleep is in short supply.

When the news came down that CT scans of Mark McGwire's 70th home run showed a ball that was out of MLB's specifications, it rang a bell and reminded me of some work I did for Will Carroll's book, The Juice: The Real Story of Baseball's Drug Problems two years ago. Read all about it at BP Unfiltered.

Speaking of BP, I'll be doing my best to beat the Hall of Fame's Tuesday announcement of the 2007 voting results by running JAWS articles on Monday and Tuesday, and hosting a chat at 4 PM Eastern after the results are annnounced. Until then, it's back to the salt mines...

Labels: BP07, non-baseball, Unfiltered

Baseball Prospectus has a new blog, and I took the opportunity to follow up my latest Hall of Fame ballot piece with my Unfiltered debut, featuring a couple of JAWS-flavored notes on Jeff Bagwell (who retired today) and Cal Ripken, Jr. Enjoy!

Labels: BP07, JAWS, non-baseball, Unfiltered