A few weeks ago, I reported on how the great Mariano Rivera has stumbled during the times I've seen him in person this year. Today, I discovered that I hold a hex on another key Yankees pitcher, Mike Mussina. I've been to four games he's pitched this season, and the Yanks have lost all four; what's worse, Mussina's gotten bombed. Here's his cumulative line: 0-3, 6.65 ERA, 23 IP, 27 H, 17 ER, 4 BB, 22 K. That even includes seven innings of shutout ball against the Mets on July 7. His record in all other games is 11-6, 3.42 ERA.
There's no day-night split which explains this trend the way it does when it comes to Rivera; in fact the opposite is true. Mussina's ERA is 3.22 in the day (a scary 1.06 without me in the building!), and 4.66 at night (4.69 without me). Go figure.
If the Yankees rotation stays in place over the next three turns, I'm scheduled to see Mussina face the Seattle Mariners on August 18. God forbid the Yanks should fall behind the Red Sox in the next two weeks, but I'd consider trading my tickets if that were the case. Like the veteran slugger who knows he should sit against the occasional tough lefty, we've all got to do our part to help our team.
Milwaukee Brewers manager Davey Lopes earned himself a two-game suspension for those words, which were aimed at San Diego Padres outfielder Rickey Henderson. Henderson had just stolen second base in the seventh inning, with a 12-5 lead. An enraged Lopes came out of the dugout to tell Henderson he could expect retribution if he remained in the game. Padres manager Bruce Bochy removed Rickey before the Brewers pitchers had a chance to make good on their threat.
Lopes' line is definitely in the running for soundbite of the year, and it's the kind of old-school tough talk that makes for great copy. But when he accused Henderson of breaking one of baseball's unwritten rules--stealing a base while having a sizeable lead--he sounded more out of touch than old-school. These days, even a seven-run lead isn't safe; just ask the Houston Astros, who squandered a six-run lead in the ninth inning to the Pittsburgh Pirates the day before. Lopes' action was hypocritical--his own team has done the same thing earlier this year--and out of line (though it still wasn't as surprising as hearing Rickey Henderson talk about the incident in the first person).
But given the Brewers' woeful bats (poor Harvey Kuenn must be rolling in his grave), and their six-week tailspin (10-31), perhaps Lopes was just looking for a vacation. Seven runs is a huge obstacle for a team that doesn't get on base much (their .315 OBP is the worst in baseball), or have too many weapons--for that Lopes can thank the Selig regime, which seems set on proving that a small-market team can't competently build a winning franchise.
Lopes was the model player of my youth, so it pains me to see him become the object of ridicule now. He was an excellent leadoff hitter, a smart base-stealer (he once set a record with 38 consecutive steals, and late in his career would post seasons like 47 out of 51 in steals), even a Gold Glove winner. Captain of the Dodgers, he spoke on the players' behalf when coach Junior Gilliam died of a brain hemorrhage during the 1978 playoffs, then starred in a losing cause in the World Series, hitting three home runs. He was the first of the famous Dodger infield to lose his job, supplanted at 36 by Steve Sax and then traded to Oakland. Not surprisingly, he stuck around for several more seasons, playing the sage veteran for the division-winning Cubs ('84) and Astros ('86).
Through his career as a player and coach, Lopes always seemed gruff and no-nonsense, the kind of guy willing to tell you exactly how far to shove it if the occasion merited. That trait probably cost him a few managerial opportunities. It hasn't cost him this one, but if the Brewers' fortunes don't reverse, it won't matter anyway.
I couldn't resist posting this editorial cartoon. It appeared in the New York Times Op-Ed page on July 14, the same week it was reported that a librarian at NYU had discovered two references to the game of "base ball" in an 1823 newspaper. The cartoon is by Barry Blitt, and I assume the copyright is held by the New York Times or Blitt, or some agent thereof--basically, somebody besides me (so please don't sue).
In one of his early Baseball Abstracts, Bill James introduced a formula which he referred to as "the Favorite Toy," but which now travels under the more dignified name of the Career Assessment forumla. Based on a player's age and established level of production, James could estimate a player's chances of achieving various career milestones or breaking records. The Toy is useful as a radar screen showing which players have a shot at which achievements, but it ain't the most scientific formula in the world--that's why he called it a toy, after all.
Anyway, using James's formula to calculate Griffey's chance of reaching 756 HRs, we can trace the arc of his career. And I'm happy to report that somebody already has. A bold soul named Ron Smith has a page where he has done Favorite Toy projections for the various milestones and records; the figures below are based on his calculations (with a few exceptions which I'll explain afterwards). This is the progression of Griffey's chances:
The last two projections are mine. They show a) where Griffey would be if he took his ball and went home, as he threatened to do this weekend, and b) if we assume that he will suddenly catch fire and hit 22 HR in his next 58 games (a 61 HR pace for a full season), leaving him with 30 on the year.
Since the established level in the formula is a weighted average of his output the last three seasons (3-2-1), a season without significant progress can cause a probablity to drop off the charts. That's what happened in 1995, when injuries limited Junior to 17 HR, and that's what would happen if he packed it in today. And while I do think Griffey's chances are better than 15% (assuming he was just having a bad hair day and the hammy heals during the offseason), the formula does not. Even two seasons in a row (plus the rest of this one) at his career level (42 HR per 162 games) will only bring his chances up to 18%. But a third--which would clear this season's aberation from the formula--would rachet him back to 37%. At which point he would be 35 and still in need of 189 HRs. Clearly, it would behoove him to get hot soon.
By the next time Smith runs his numbers, Griffey won't even be the leading candidate anymore. That honor will belong to Sammy Sosa, who was at 29.8% after 2000. At 35 HRs and counting, Slammin' Sammy is right on target for his established level of 57 HRs. If he hits that many, his estimate climbs to 33.6%.
But those rooting for surly second-generation superstars need not fear, for Barry Bonds is on his way. Though he's never cracked Smith's list (which shows all of the players since 1980 who had a probability greater than zero) before this season, if he reaches 70 HRs, he'll be on the map at 25.7%. Heck, Griffey may fall behind Alex Rodriguez (12.5% entering this season), too. Ain't it a bitch being Ken Griffey, Jr.?
Yes, it probably is. Breaking Hank Aaron's home run record is not the be-all and end-all of what makes a great player. Junior, who received death threats as a byproduct of his trade demands, probably doesn't need the added attention of a challenge at the record. And he's not even close enough to merit that kind of scrutiny. So I will try to muster some sympathy for the man, and hopefully get back to enjoying the talents that made him so engaging in the first place. At least until the next time he starts whining.
Fred McGriff to Chicago: Finally! Apparently two weeks of reality therapy was enough for McGriff to realize that finishing his career in Tampa Bay was not an option. Chicago gets a significant upgrade at first base, where Matt Stairs, Ron Coomer, and Julio Zuleta have been underwhelming. Stairs' numbers there aren't horrid, but Don Baylor sat him against lefties, leaving two guys who couldn't find the Mendoza line with a map and compass (all stats as 1B only):
The deal was finally announced with the Devil Rays receiving Manny Aybar and a player to be named later, most likely AAA shortstop Jason Smith, who is on the DL right now but is nothing special when he's not (.233 AVG/.271 OBP/.367 SLG). I'm still surprised Tampa Bay GM Chuck LaMar couldn't extract more from one of the deepest farm systems in baseball. Wait, I take that back--I'm not surprised at all, given how poorly the Rays have fared with LaMar at the helm.
Jermaine Dye to Oakland: I'm not sure which is more impressive--the bold move Oakland made by trading two prospects to get Dye, or the way Royals GM Allard Baird was fleeced by A's GM Billy Beane and Rockies GM Dan O'Dowd. As Gary Huckaby said over on Baseball Prospectus, "Should the Royals even pay to have a phone system? They'd be better off without one. Why doesn't Baird just send a kidney to Beane?"
First, the A's: they have no chance to catch the Mariners in the AL West race, but they're only five games behind Minnesota in the Wild Card race. It's like a poker game; Billy Beane tosses a couple of chips into the pot, selects a couple of new cards, and emphatically declares his team "in." Dye is in the midst of a sub-par year, but the previous two seasons he's been a stud, averaging .308/30/119. He's locked up through next season, contract-wise. The deal means Jason Giambi is staying put, at least until the end of the year, but it's questionable whether it gives them a better shot at re-signing him. After all, Damon's $7.1 million will come off the books (given his free-agency), but Dye, who's eligible for arbitration, figures to at least double his $3.8 million salary. Giambi passed up Oakland's offer of $90 million over 6 years due to the lack of a no-trade clause; his price will only go up as the season progresses, meaning the A's certainly won't be able to keep everybody. Still, they're a smart organization with a trio of excellent young pitchers in Tim Hudson, Barry Zito and Mark Mulder--they'll find a way to remain competitive.
The Royals: I don't think there's anybody besides Baird who can put a positive spin on this one. All Baird has to show for one of his best players is an overpaid glove-man, Neifi Perez, to add to a growing collection that includes Rey Sanchez. Now the talk is that Sanchez will be dealt to the Atlanta Braves, who are looking for a shortstop since Rafael Furcal went down for the season. Thus the Royals would get younger and less expensive, but no less slick-fielding at short. But if they think Perez will hit significantly better than Sanchez, they are in for a rude awakening:
Turk Wendell to Philadelphia: No analysis to offer here, just a fond farewell to one of the city's most eccentrically entertaining players. I'll miss ol' 99 and his bizarre collection of habits and superstitions: jumping over the foul lines, brushing his teeth between innings, wearing the teeth of animals he's hunted, nearly freezing to death hunting those animals, signing contracts where all of the numbers are a penny short, to keep the figures at $.99, giving up game-ending home runs... So long, Turk.
Ken Griffey Jr. Whines, Again: So what else is new? It's gratifying to watch Griffey wallow miserably in the bed which he's made for himself. He whines because he wants to leave Seattle to play closer to home. He whines because he finally gets to choose his city, only to find his salary severely hampers the team's ability to field a competitive team (it doesn't help that he signs with a mid-market club which throws around nickels like they're manhole covers). He whines because they attempt to break up that team of underpaid underachievers and retool. He probably whines when he does long division and gets a remainder. Grrrr...
Deion Sanders Pulls A Rare Double: On Friday, Neon Deion officially retired from football. On Saturday, he was released by the AAA Syracuse Sky Chiefs (Toronto affiliate), the second team to drop him this season during his so-called comeback, during which he proved that he couldn't hit sand if he fell off a camel. Next up, we'll strap him to a rocket and shoot him straight into the sun. So long, sucker.
