Man Bites Dog: Jay Links Post

I generally stay away from referencing the New York Post because I find their tabloid mentality and the politics behind it so reprehensible. But two articles today got my attention.

The first one is about Mets co-owner Nelson Doubleday’s accusations that baseball cooks its books to hide profits. Doubleday is attempting to sell his half of the team to co-owner Fred Wilpon based on a provision of their longstanding partnership in which one party can buy out the other at a value determined by an appraiser. The hitch is that the valuation placed on the franchise–by a crony of Commissioner Bud Selig–is out of line other estimates of the team’s worth (previous offers for the team, Forbes Magazine’s estimate, and the price the Boston Red Sox fetched when sold over the winter, for example). The story is being widely covered, but it was the Post’s back-page headline, “END IS NEAR FOR SELIG” which reeled me in. Man, that tabloid shit is STRONG.

In the Post article, Tom Keegan speculates–perhaps a bit breathlessly–that this controversy couild spell the end of Selig’s reign. He writes:

Driving one more nail – no, not a nail, this one is a spike aced with arsenic – into the coffin of Selig’s reign as commissioner, an outgoing member of the Old Boy Network let the whole world know that, guess what, the owners do cook their books.

In what has the appearance of an old boy leaving the Old Boy Network and thereby feeling as if he can finally tell the truth, Mets co-owner Nelson Doubleday fingered baseball yesterday in papers filed Tuesday in federal court for Doubleday’s lawsuit against co-owner Fed Wilpon.

Doubleday maintains the commissioner was “in cahoots” with Wilpon and Arthur Andersen accountant Robert Starkey to “manufacture phantom operating losses” in baseball’s books.

While this might get ugly, it just as easily could disappear like smoke if Doubleday is able to wring another $50 to $100 million out of Wilpon for his half of the team. Far more promising, in my opinion, is the RICO suit brought by the former Montreal Expos owners, because Selig is actually a defendant in that case. But either way, and even with the fantasy that a deal with the Players’ Association might arrive in time to avert a strike, a few more vultures are circling around Bud.

A sharp writer named Dan Lewis, who keeps a sports blog of his own, dlewis.net, as well as writing for various other online publications, does a nice, quick dissection of the Doubleday matter as well as related economic issues surrounding the game. Lewis runs down “The Seven Deadly Disputes” at the heart of baseball’s labor war. The 60/40 rule (in which a team’s asset-to-debt ratio may not exceed that arbitrary balance), he writes, “is 100% a salary cap.” Add this man to your reading list.

• • • • •

The second Post piece is about the still-struggling Mike Mussina and the Yanks’ pitching woes as a whole. On Tuesday, Moose allowed a career-worst 14 hits to the Kansas City Royals, who have the league’s lowest batting average. Joel Sherman summarizes Mussina’s futility:

In his last 19 starts, which stretches to late April, Mussina has pitched to a 5.48 ERA. Since June 1, the AL is hitting .315 off him. Over his superb career, Mussina always has possessed the moxie and arsenal to escape jams. But the Royals were 7-for-15 with men on base against him, and for the season his average against in those spots is .311 and worse (.324) with runners in scoring position.

This data meshes nicely with the situational OPS breakdowns I ranted about a few days ago. Here is a revised version showing Mussina’s OPS (On Base Percentage + Slugging Percentage) allowed with no baserunners (0), runners on base (1+) and runners in scoring position (RISP):

                      0     1+   RISP

Before last night   648   893   930

Last night vs. KC   933  1118  1000

After last night    656   914   934

It takes a lot of work for a single outing to raise an OPS 21 points; Mussina’s performance last night was really that bad. Upon examining these numbers after his Texas start, I suggested that Mussina’s ridiculous stretch move (a.k.a. the Goddamn Drinking Bird) may be part of his problem, as the move may be inhibiting the control or velocity of his pitches. But in examining last night’s outcome, a few other possibilites have reared their heads:

• Mussina could be tipping his pitches. This possiblity was suggested to Mussina after last night’s outing, but he dismissed it, at least publicly. However, as NY Times writer Jack Curry notes, “Mussina said batters were hitting different pitches while he was ahead in the count, which sounds like a description for tipping pitches. To that, Mussina said: ‘I should just tell them what’s coming then. Maybe that will make it easier on me.'”

• Baserunners could be stealing Jorge Posada’s signs. Similar to the tipped pitch theory, this also meshes with Moose’s woes with men on base. Either way, the Yanks ought to be checking their video for clues.

• Mussina could be hiding an injury. While Moose is considerably easier to communicate with and more forthcoming than Orlando Hernandez (the master of the concealed injury), he may have nagging minor injuries which are contributing to his woes. Recall that El Duque’s seemingly minor toe problems contributed to his considerably more major pitching woes last season.

Noting a lack of velocity on Mussina’s fastball and crispness on his breaking pitches, ESPN’s Rob Neyer suggests that Moose is suffering from a lack of arm strength, and what he calls “the Yankees’ laissez faire attitude toward the health of their pitchers’ arms.” While Neyer may be onto something about the arm strength, the latter accusation is absolutely unfounded given the Yanks’ conservative approach to injuries. The organization has uniformly addressed injuries to Pettitte, Hernandez, Rivera, Clemens, Hitchcock, ad infinitum with the focus on making sure they were ready for the postseason. Not to get all indignant, but for Neyer to suggest otherwise shows that he’s not paying very close attention. Still, he does have a point when he writes, “With luck, there’s nothing wrong with Moose that a two-week vacation in Tampa can’t cure.”

• Sometimes, he just sucks. Slumps happen, and overthinking or pressing to shake them often tends to make matters worse. Mussina has conceded that he has a tendency to overanalyze his mechanics, but struggling like this is uncharted territory for him. All the more reason why the Tampa Cure might be in order, especially with Roger Clemens coming off of the disabled list.

Hopefully, Mussina and the Yankee organization can get to the bottom of this mystery before too long. And maybe Brian Cashman should talk to David Cone after all.

Cyclones, Hurricanes, and No-Hitters, Oh My!

Last Friday night may qualify as the most surreal night I’ve ever had at a ballpark, even though it was one of the more short-lived. My co-worker Lillie had organized a trip to see the Brooklyn Cyclones play at Keyspan Park, a colorful little ballpark nestled in the middle of Coney Island’s amusement rides. The Class A Cyclones, whom I visited during their inaugural season last summer, are sold beyond capacity this season, with only bleachers and standing-room tickets available on game day. Fortunately, Lillie had a friend willing to go out of his way and swing by Coney Island to pick up ten tickets at $5 a pop.

Now, group expeditions are always a dicey proposition at ballparks; the more people you have, the harder it is to get everybody to the same spot at the same time, especially when coming from the city an hour away during rush hour. Our plan to meet a half-hour before game time fell by the wayside. But nine out of our ten managed to find their way to the bleacher entrance of Keyspan Park as the National Anthem was being played, and we entered the stadium together.

Though Keyspan is oversold, it’s not necessarily full to capacity, as on any given night entire rows of season-ticket holders may not show up. So as the top half of the first played out, we found our way from the bleachers down to the first-base side of the infield, staking out the better part of a row in section 14.

As the game began, the weather was questionable, with a rainstorm reportedly heading towards the park. A glance at the sky as we settled into our seats answered the question, as a black, arced cloud of doom loomed to the east. Uh-oh.

With the chaos of the rush-hour trip to the ballpark behind us and a potential storm ahead, the first thing on my mind was a quick bite to eat–a bite and a beer, actually. My girlfriend Andra took care of the beer portion, getting stuck in a long line in the process. By the time she was back, ominous gusts of wind–strong enough to blow one’s cap off–were swirling, and the occasional thunderclap shook the stadium. I headed off to get a couple of hot dogs, but frustrated by getting stuck in the same concessions line as Andra had, I bailed out. Instead, I hurriedly scored a pair of Italian sausages at a less-crowded cart and returned to my seat. I quickly had to get up again to find condiments and napkins, neither of which was easy to find. The napkins were inconveniently being dispensed from stupid wall-mounted contraptions as if they were Kleenex; one good yank to pull a few out on them produced a wrinkled mess unfit for presentation to another human being.

If it sounds like I watched very little baseball up to this point, that’s a correct impression. Our large group, late arrival, and lack of familiarity with the ballplayers had taken the option of keeping score out of my hands. Once that happens, my attention (not to mention my feet) tends to wander. But I began to tune in once the sausage returned my blood-sugar level to a more comfortable point. A close play at first base in which a Cyclones batter was called out had several fans in our section jawing back to the umpire. As the man in blue listened to the chatter coming from the Cyclones’ bench, some of these armchair umps imagined he was paying attention to their complaint, resulting in an ever more boisterous display.

Play progressed very quickly; it seemed as if every batter swung at the first or second pitch with one eye on the forecast. Through this, the Brooklyn starter kept throwing zeroes up on the scoreboard. After six quick innings, he still hadn’t allowed a hit. Unfortunately, the Cyclones had managed only two hits themselves up to that point, and the game was still scoreless. Meanwhile, the thunder clapped ever louder, and the sky grew blacker.

So there I am, in the middle of a no-hitter to which I’ve barely paid attention. I’m still hungry. I can’t sit still. I don’t have a scorecard. Hell, I don’t even know the pitcher’s name (Jason Scobie, as I soon learned). And I’ve got too many people to talk to while this is going on. I’m thinking to myself, “What sorry-assed excuse for a baseball fan have I become? Better I head to the kiddie pool beyond the outfield wall of the Arizona Diamondbacks mallpark than be caught without a scorecard at a no-hitter.” Oh, the guilt.

In the bottom of the sixth inning, Oneonta brought in a new pitcher (Ross Koenig), who got one out, then hit the second batter, leftfielder Jonathan Slack, in the arm with a pitch. To the crowd’s delight, Slack stole second base, then advanced to third on a wild pitch. With two outs, second baseman Joe Jianetti blooped a soft single, scoring Slack for the game’s first run.

Scobie took the mound for the seventh, retiring the first batter. At that point, Lillie leaned over to me and broke the spell by uttering the dreaded words “no-hitter.” Sure enough the next batter, Tigers third baseman Robert Watson, lined a double off of the leftfield wall. The appreciative Brooklyn crowd gave him an ovation, but several parents, with their eye on the weather, began decamping once their shot at history over. Lillie winced, and I shook my head. So much for our luck.

The top of the seventh ended with a series of violent thunderclaps, after which the umpires conferred and called the game. Momentarily, the sky erupted and the rain began to fall. As the groundskeepers unrolled the tarp, it was clear our baseball was done for the night. With the aid of a borrowed umbrella, we made the subway stop without getting too soaked. Our ride back to the city on the lead car of the F train was punctuated by flashes of lightning and the sight of rain pouring in through the train’s front door. All in all, a surreal experience.

Chick Hearn, RIP

Whether or not you’re a basketball fan, if you’re a lover of the language of sports, you should note the passing of Chick Hearn, the Los Angeles Lakers’ longtime play-by-play man. Hearn, who died on Tuesday at the age of 85, spent 42 years calling Lakers game (including an incredible 3,338 consecutive games), and even if you never got to hear him broadcast, you’ve heard his work.

Hearn’s language added color not just to the sport of basketball, but to sports culture in general; terms he’s credited with creating or popularizing include “slam dunk,” “air ball,” and “no harm, no foul.” Several other phrases of his have also stuck: “Caught with his hand in the cookie jar,” “He faked him into the popcorn machine,” and my personal favorite, “”You can put this one in the refrigerator. The door’s closed, the light’s out, the eggs are cooling, the butter’s getting hard and the Jell-O is jiggling.'” ESPN’s obituary does a nice job of running down several “Chickisms” as well as the highlights of the man’s career. The world of sports will miss him.

Excccccelent News

The Twins Geek (John Bonnes) pointed me and the rest of his readers in the direction of this article at Sports Central, comparing Minnesota Twins owner Carl Pohlad to that tent-fingered embodiment of animated evil, Montgomery Burns. “Who else could represent everything Pohlad stands for?,” writes Ryan Noonan. “Mr. Burns is an old, bald, filthy-rich business tycoon who seems to take pleasure in other people’s misery. He lives in a cavernous mansion by himself and would probably sell his mother if it meant he could make $2 on the deal. Except for maybe the cavernous mansion, if that doesn’t describe Pohlad, I don’t know what does.” Excccccellent.

But so long as I’m riffing on the Simpsons, even that news isn’t quite as excellent as the fact that my favorite show has inspired the naming of a minor-league franchise. The AAA team which will play in Albuquerque next season will be called the Isotopes, taking its name from an episode in which the Duff Beer Corporation, owners of the Springfield Isotopes, schemes to move the team to Albuquerque until Homer foils his plan.

Real-life Albuqueque was left without a franchise following the 2000 season, when the Los Angeles Dodgers ended their long working agreement with the city’s team, the Dukes. The Pacific Coast League franchise moved to Portland, becoming the Beavers, but they still hold the legal rights to the name “Dukes.” Meanwhile, the PCL’s Calgary Cannons are moving to Albuquerque, and while traditionalists wanted to resurrect the Dukes name (even given the estimated $15,000 cost of buying back the rights), imagination–and perhaps a whiff of the green stuff–has won out. The ‘Topes have secured the rights to trademark the name, though they haven’t worked out anything with Fox regarding the use of Simpsons characters.

Meanwhile, the Dodgers’ new working agreement is with a Las Vegas franchise called the 51s, after Area 51, the top-secret military facility associated with UFO tales and conspiracy theories. The 51s even have one of those alien heads (a schwa, as I believe it’s called) as their cap logo. Given that Fox owns the Dodgers, this is all starting to make sense. New teams, new uniforms, new marketing opportunities… the truth is out there.

Catching Up with Coney

David Cone has had an interesting season on the fringe, but then David Cone has always kept things interesting–whether he’s at the top of his game or the bottom. The New York Observer, that strange pink media-focused weekly, caught up with Cone in a front-page feature last week, discussing his whereabouts and his position on the game’s current labor issues.

Recall that the articulate Cone was one of the most visible players in the game during the last labor war; his role as an American League player representative had him on TV every time there was news about the 1994-1995 strike. Cone, who is still close to Donald Fehr, the head of the Players’ Union, offered glints of optimism about the present situation: “There is not as much rhetoric as there was the last time. I still think the framework is there for a deal.”

After his well-chronicled, disastrous 2000 season with the Yanks (4-14, 6.91 ERA, and the subject of a Roger Angell book), Cone salvaged some dignity with a strong comeback with the Boston Red Sox last year. At his best, Ol’ Coney was still capable of holding up his end of a tantalizing pitchers’ duel, as he did against the Yankees and Mike Mussina when the latter came within one strike of a perfect game on September 2. For the season, Cone went 9-7 with a 4.31 ERA, helping to keep the Sox in the race in Pedro Martinez’s absence before the inmates overran the asylum.

With the market for fragile 38-year-old pitchers a fickle one, the Sox chose not to re-sign Cone, who then spurned overtures from the Kansas City Royals and the Texas Rangers to wait for a call that never came from the Yankees. Still, he kept showing up–in Tampa, where he threw to stay in shape, and in the bleachers of both Fenway and Yankee Stadium, where he watched games among the variouis bleacher creatures.

Though Boss Steinbrenner hasn’t seen fit to offer Cone a contract to pitch, he has let Cone get his feet wet in a new endeavor, as a game analyst on YES. Cone worked a game each round of the Subway Series between the Yankees and the Mets, and now he’s literally plying his trade in the minors, doing a few Staten Island Yankees games. I tuned in to hear his work Monday night, and while he’s definitely not polished yet, he shows potential. His voice is pleasant if a little flat, and he uses a few too many um’s and uh’s, but his observations on pitching are delivered with confidence and enthusiasm, and he’s never been short of charisma or candor. Once again, he reiterated his optimism on the labor front, offering hard-won observations from his time on the front lines as well as more general insights about his playing days.

Cone’s being given every chance to succeed in his new role, but he still hasn’t ruled out another trip to spring training–to put on the pinstripes one more time and retire a Yankee, if nothing else. The bets are in that he’s thrown his last pitch in a regular season game (and if that’s the case, I was lucky enough to see it), but rest assured he’ll be sticking around the game in some capacity. Which is good, because baseball at whatever level–a strike, a season from hell, a five-error Class A game, or a World Series gem–is always more interesting with him around.

The Goddamn Drinking Bird

Mike Mussina got shelled against the Texas Rangers the other night, giving up 7 runs and 11 hits in only 3 innings. Most embarrassingly, Mussina tied a major-league record by allowing six doubles in one inning. A guy could get whiplash watching all of those balls fly over his head.

The Rangers appear to have Moose’s number; he’s allowed them 18 runs in 13 innings over three starts in pinstripes. In fact a year ago Friday, I ditched work to catch a day game, only to watch Mussina get rocked by Texas before I’d even broken a sweat.

The Rangers won’t be around in October, but they’re not Mussina’s only problem. He hasn’t been nearly the same pitcher this year as he was last season, when he outpitched teammate Roger Clemens, whose gaudy 20-3 record netted an unprecedented 6th Cy Young Award. Mussina’s ERA was 0.36 runs lower (3.15 to Clemens’ 3.51), he showed drastically better control (5.09 K/W ratio for Moose vs. 2.96 for Rocket) and he allowed significantly fewer baserunners per inning (1.07 vs 1.26). But Clemens got the better run support, and ended up with the better record and the hardware.

Run support anomalies tend to even out over time, and this year Moose has gotten his share, enabling him to a 13-5 record, compared to 17-11 last year. But Moose’s ERA is 1.68 runs higher this season than last, and only 12 out of 22 starts have been Quality Starts (3 earned runs in 6 innings or better). Five of those non-Quality Starts qualify as Disaster Starts (a term coined by ESPN’s Jim Baker meaning those in which the pitcher allows as many or more runs than innings pitched). Interestingly enough, in 34 starts last year, Moose posted the same totals of non-Quality and Disaster Starts, 10 and 5 respectively.

So his hits per inning are up (9.07 per 9 IP vs. 7.95 last year), his strikeouts are down (7.04 vs 8.42), and he’s already allowed more homers than he did last year (1.37 per 9 IP vs. 0.79 per 9 last season. Just what the hell is going on?

Anyone who’s watched Mussina pitch knows that he has one of the more, um, distinctive stretch moves in the game. At the beginning of his windup, he bows like an overly servile butler. Or as I’m prone to calling it after a couple of beers, a Goddamn Drinking Bird, after that novelty-store staple. Mussina’s move looks ridiculous, and I don’t see how he can generate any power with it. While he’s obviously had success with it in the past, anybody examing his mechanics would surmise that he’s wasting a lot of energy and losing his power there.

Actually, I think I’m onto something. Here are OPS (On Base Percentage + Slugging Percentage) breakdowns for the Yankee starters, with no runners on (0), runners on (1+), and runners in scoring position (RISP).

            0    1+  RISP

Clemens   588  772  763

Hernandez 570  656  679

Lilly     696  611  554 (incl. 2 OAK starts)

Mussina   648  893  930

Pettitte  711  776  714

Wells     682  714  697

Moose’s OPS with runners on or in scoring position are 117 points higher than any other splits here, and they’re the only ones above 800. His splits last year aren’t quite as drastic (590 OPS with none on, 707 with runners on, 767 with runners in scoring position), so maybe this is a just random blip.

Whatever the reason, Mussina hasn’t pitched well with runners on base. If I were Yankee pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre, I’d check video of his pitching from the stretch this season versus last. And I’d suggest Mussina kill that Goddamn Drinking Bird.

Pulling the Trigger on Payton

Nobody hates sharing their first name with a fundamentally unsound ballplayer toiling in the same city more than I do. So I let out a good whoop when the Mets finally, mercifully pulled the trigger on a deal which sent Jay Payton to Colorado on Wednesday.

I never understood why the Mets made so much fuss about Payton. Despite his minor-league hitting prowess (Payton tore up A, AA, and AAA pitching his first three years as a pro), he’s been an extremely mediocre major-league hitter. And whatever skill he’s shown as an above-average centerfielder is undone by his baserunning antics, which stand out on a team with two headless chickens in the outfield and on the basepaths in Roger Cedeno and Timo Perez. I may as well watch Little League.

Week after week, month after month, I read about how Jay Payton was the sticking point in some blockbuster deal the Mets had going for Junior Griffey or Gary Sheffield or Babe… well, maybe not Babe Ruth. Those deals never materialized, of course. If a reluctance to part with Payton really is what did them in, then Mets GM Steve Phillips should be sentenced to watch his overpaid, underwhelming ballclub for an eternity, or at least the length of Mo Vaughn’s contract.

Injuries and a million elbow surgeries delayed Payton’s big-league career until 27, an age when ballplayers tend to peak statistically. Three years down the road, Payton hasn’t advanced very much; we’ve already seen his upside. A red-hot July did enough to camouflage his decline that it made sense to deal him. That he netted only a middle- to back-of-the-rotation starter in John Thomson (who’s decent enough, but so fragile that he’s apparently in the Under the Knife Hall of Fame next to Moises Alou and Ken Griffey, Jr.) shouldn’t surprise anybody besides Phillips, Rockies GM Dan O’Dowd, and Jay Payton’s mother, all of whom have higher opinions of their Jay than I do.

Here are some stats for Payton:

                   AVG   OBP   SLG   PA

2000             .291  .331  .447  529

2001             .255  .298  .371  386

2002 (pre-July)  .259  .311  .383  216

2002 (July)      .351  .402  .500   81

2002 (total)     .284  .336  .415  297

Looking at these, who do you think the real Jay Payton is, the mediocrity who put in 1000+ plate appearances over 2 1/2 years, hitting a thin .273/.316/.407, or the guy who tore up the NL in July once the Mets had flatlined themselves out of Wild Card contention? Caveat emptor.

ESPN’s Rob Neyer has a good piece about the general lousiness of the Mets’ outfield, and points out that in Payton, the Mets traded their most productive outfielder. I say that if Payton’s the best you’ve got, you might as well pack in some dynamite, blow shit up and start over. I’d shiver at the prospect of Perez taking over centerfield if I didn’t have good money to bet on the “over” for collisions with Cedeno. *That* will be fun to watch.

• • • • •

This page has taken quite a jump recently in terms of traffic, enough to make July the busiest in this site’s short history, and 50% busier than the previoius six months’ average. I know that my coverage of the All-Star Game Weekend had something to do with it, but a bit of networking with my fellow webloggers helped as well. I’d like to give big thank-you shout-outs to David Pinto’s Baseball Musings, Geoff Young’s Ducksnorts, John Bonnes’ TwinsGeek.com, John Perricone’s Only Baseball Matters, and of course Pete Sommers’ Baseball News Blog, all of which have brought this site to their readers’ attention recently. These are some really smart weblogs, and I encourage anyone reading this to check them out.

Baseball’s New Sad Lexicon

Barely three weeks after he was traded from the Florida Marlins to the Montreal Expos, Cliff Floyd was traded again, this time to the Boston Red Sox. Thus he’s completed an unseemly journey between three teams linked by this past offseason’s franchise-manipulating shenanigans.

Recall that current Red Sox owner John Henry is also the former owner of the Florida Marlins, and that current Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria is the former owner of the Montreal Expos. When Henry’s group “won” the bid for the Sox, Loria was allowed to buy the Marlins and sell the Expos to Major League Baseball, semmingly a precursor towards contracting the poor Expos. This unholy triangle was of course aided and abetted by Commissioner Bud Selig. Selig managed to overlook the fact that Henry’s group may not have been the highest bidder for the Sox (as the condition of the franchise sale mandated). One wonders if Selig hasn’t served up another fat pitch for ol’ John Henry here.

When the Expos acquired Floyd, it was on the heels of their acquisition of ace pitcher Bartolo Colon from the Cleveland Indians in exchange for two prospects. The Expos stood at 46-41, 9.5 games out of first place in the NL East and 5 games out of the Wild Card, but the deal made sense in a win-now kind of way. Three weeks later, the Expos have slumped with Floyd (7-12) but remain only 6 games out of the Wild Card, despite falling to 16 in back of the Braves in the East. Instead of hanging tough with their augmented lineup, they send Clifford packing in exchange for two middling Korean pitching prospects (including the wonderfully-named Seung Song, whom I saw pitch at the All-Star Futures Game) who aren’t as good as what they gave up. If winning now is no longer the mandate, and contraction is still in the cards (cough, cough), what the hell good are prospects for the Expos?

Despite the rant and the presence of my favorite toupéed whipping boy, I’m not quite ready to call this one a conspiracy. Baseball Prospectus’ Joe Sheehan (who, like me, is a Yankees fan) falls just short of uttering the C-word as he tries to make sense of the trade; his article is well worth a read, especially when it points out how much attendance increased during the short span when the Expos appeared to be in the race.

But unanswered by any conspiracy theory I’ve heard is why Selig/MLB/Montreal would do Henry a favor by gifting their newly acquired slugger when Bud already did an even bigger favor by fixing the Sox sale. One would think he’s already got Henry’s support for whatever nefarious scheme he blunders into. And so long as you’re selling off the Expos for scrap, why stop at Floyd–why not trade Colon, Vladimir Guerrero and Jose Vidro in exchange for Quebec’s independence or a fifty-foot statue of Tim Raines or something useful like that? I don’t get it.

As a Yanks fan, I’m not going to sweat the Sox acquiring Floyd too much. Had they pried loose Jim Thome from the Indians, I might have worried a bit, because it’s always Whacking Day for Thome when he faces the Yanks. He’s got 3 HRs in 20 ABs against them this year, and 12 in 124 ABs over the past four seasons. No wonder he seems to hit one nearly every time I’m watching. My favorite Yankee opponent, hands down.

But just because I’m not worried about the ramifications for the Yanks and don’t think it’s truly a conspiracy doesn’t mean I don’t have a bad taste in my mouth about this. Anything involving players traded into or out of Montreal this year is highly questionable and deserving of further scrutiny. Anything involving Selig and the operations of an individual team, particularly the two teams he’s so incestuously involved with (now there’s a pleasant image) shouldn’t pass unnoticed either.

So with apologies to Franklin P. Adams, who wrote the second-most famous baseball poem of all time (after Ernest Thayer’s “Casey at the Bat”), and a nod to my late grandfather, who was given to composing bits of doggerel in his letters, I leave with you with this:

Baseball’s New Sad Lexicon

These are the saddest of possible words:

“Loria to Selig to Henry.”

Trio of bandits, reeking of turds,

Loria and Selig and Henry.

Ruthlessly wrecking our great old pastime,

Making a trade that ought to be crime.

Words that are heavy with nothing but slime:

“Loria to Selig to Henry.”

Postscript: There’s plenty more talk on the conspiracy front. The Boston Globe’s Gordon Edes gives a bit of Beantown perspective, including a conversation with Sox CEO Larry Luccino. ESPN Insider’s Jim Bake,r answering a letter from a reader, says the conspiracy theory could be plugged in if any one of a number of teams had acquired Floyd:

“Yankees: Selig doing favor for most influential owner in game

“Dodgers: Selig wants big market team to win western division for TV ratings

“Braves: Selig thinks a Braves world championship would be just the thing for baseball.

“And, on the end of the spectrum:

“Devil Rays: Selig thinks moribund team could use a shot in the arm so he can focus contraction hopes elsewhere.

“Brewers: No explanation necessary.

“Let’s face it: The league owning a team is just plain bad mojo. Any move it makes, no matter how benign, is going to look like some kind of backdoor malfeasance. The conspiracy theory angle is much more fun, though.”

The “Where Are They Now” Files

A good friend of my girlfriend, a Yankee fan living out in Los Angeles, wrote me to suggest a “Where Are They Now” piece on the former Yankees who scattered to the four winds after last year’s World Series. So it’s to her, an avowed Chuck Knoblauch fan (she’s used the words “love child” in connection with him), that I dedicate the following column…

The Yankees did a fair amount of housecleaning following their World Series defeat. Of the core Yanks who departed the team after last season, three of them (Scott Brosius, Paul O’Neill, and Luis Sojo) retired, one (David Justice) was traded, and two more (Chuck Knoblauch and Tino Martinez) left as free agents. Looking at their performances, its tough to see how any of them could have helped the team this season. Their presence may be missed, but their bats are not.

First, the retirees. Nary a peep has been heard from Scott Brosius, who went home to Oregon to spend time with his family. Paul O’Neill works part time as part of the pre- and post-game team for the Yankee Entertainment and Sports Network (YES). The few times I’ve seen him, he’s been solid and he seems to be getting more comfortable, especially when discussing his favorite subject, hitting. He hasn’t maimed any water coolers yet, and he’s avoided the temptation to practice his swing while other announcers are talking, but beyond that it’s too early for me to judge his performance.

Luis Sojo was actually coaxed into one more spring training as a non-roster invitee. But he retired after a strong bid to make the club fell short. On May 16, the Yanks did some organizational shuffling, firing the manager of AAA Columbus and promoting AA Norwich manager Stump Merrill to that spot. Sojo was hired to manage the Navigators, who then stood at 14-10 and 1 game out of first place in the Eastern League’s Northern Division. They’re 43-38 since Looie took over, in first place atop a tight four-team Northern Division race. And Sojo looks as jovial as ever. Expect him to remain a fixture in the Yankee organization.

As for the other ex-Yankee hitters, none of them are exactly tearing the cover off the ball:

                  AVG   OBP   SLG   R  HR  BI

Chuck Knoblauch  .192  .269  .271  26   3  16

Tino Martinez    .248  .333  .404  36  12  51

David Justice    .272  .406  .409  30   6  26

Chuck Knoblauch has had a tough season in Kansas City. A slow start, a 1-for-29 slump and a wrist injury which cost him six weeks on the DL put him him well below the Mendoza Line (a paltry .167) through the All-Star Break. Since returning, he’s shown some signs of improvement: 9-for-27 (.333), including a 4-hit game. And he has yet to be caught stealing, going 17-for-17. None of which justifies the Royals having given him nearly 180 plate appearances in the leadoff spot. Apparently neither Tony Muser nor Tony Pena got the memo about scoring runs.

Call me crazy, but I think Knoblauch could help a contender as a 25th man down the stretch. His speed and baserunning skills are still there, and in limited opportuntity, he’s shown himself to be a very good pinch-hitter (4-for-7 with a walk over the past 3 seasons). Break it down to a single high-pressure at-bat where you need a base runner and take your chances with the Lil’ Bastard’s ability to work the count.

In other years, some club might trade a second-rate pitching prospect and a frozen turkey for a chance to rent his Veteran Presence for two months. But in this cost-conscious year, it’s doubtful that any team would look to take on even his meager salary for the stretch run. To say nothing about whether we’ll even get to HAVE a stretch run.

Tino Martinez has failed to meet even the meager nutritional levels of an expired Big Mac. Mark McGwire, despite batting .187 last season, hit 29 homers and posted an 808 OPS, a level of production the Red One found so unacceptable he hung up his spikes. Even so, Tino has been a step down, with a not-so-shiny .248 masking a meager 737 OPS and 12 HRs, though at least he’s been healthy.

Much was made of Tino’s clutch hitting last year, and to the extent that we can pick and choose exactly what we want that to mean, the stats bear that out. His OPS was 94 points better with Runners In Scoring Position than overall, and 135 points better in Close & Late situations (7th inning or later with the batting team either ahead by one run, tied or with the potential tying run at least on deck). He was 6-for-15 with 19 RBI and a 1056 OPS with the bases loaded. By contrast, his clutch ability seems to have gone missing (which should come as no surprise to anyone who’s studied the matter). He’s only about 30 OPS points better in RISP than overall, 10 points lower than overall in Close & Late, and 2-for-12 with 12 RBI and an awful 485 OPS with the bases loaded. Proving only that small sample sizes don’t mean much when it comes to the elusive Clutch Hitter.

On the positive side, he is walking more often–in fact he’s already equalled last year’s total, and his .333 OBP is actually higher than last year. Helluva good glove man, too. And Tino always was good with those one-day-at-a-time soundbites, so no doubt his Veteran Presence has meant something to the Cards during this emotionally trying season. And postseason experience should come in handy, if we have a postseason. Soundbites and October redemption are what he’s got to sell.

David Justice got off to a hot start in Oakland (.301 with 4 HR and a 908 OPS through May 7), but then his alter ego, Cranky McGroin, put a damper on things, costing him 4 weeks on the DL. Since returning, Justice has been punchless (.352 SLG and only 2 HR in 177 PA). Still, he is getting base to a .406 clip, which means he’s not exactly hurting the A’s offense.

Another departed Yank of a considerably lower profile, Clay Bellinger has taken his jack-of-all-trades act west to the Anaheim Angels. Or rather, to the Angels’ AAA Salt Lake City affiliate, where he can show off his World Series rings to the kids. Bellinger’s hitting .268 with 11 HR and 35 RBI for the Stingers, playing first base, third base, the outfield and even catching a few games. He’s been up and down with Anaheim already, going hitless in his only at bat for them. Can you say “organizational fodder”?

Finally, a couple of pitchers. Mark Wohlers has done a fairly brutal job at the back of the Cleveland Indian bullpen, the nadir of which was allowing 7 runs in 2/3 of an inning to Anaheim on April 30. His ERA has only recently come down from the Boeing Jet catalog territory, and he stands at 1-1 with a 5.48 ERA. Jay Witasick, on the other hand, has been surprisingly effective for the San Francisco Giants, posting a 2.16 ERA in 50 innings of setup work in front of Robb Nen. Witasick just went on the 15-day DL with a bruised foot after being hit by a line drive. Still, he ought to win some kind of prize as the only one of this bunch to have actually improved since leaving.

The collective performance of this bunch, while not exactly impossible to foresee, stands as further testimony to the Yankee front-office smarts. None of these players are outperforming their replacements, and while they may have their spots in the hearts of Yank fans, it’s definitely better for the team that they’ve moved on.

There’s a lot of smart writing out there about the current state of the game with regards to the labor situation and the lawsuit against Bud Selig. At the risk of sounding overly didactic, I think every baseball fan who wants to have an argument about the state of the game with regards to money should read these articles:

• Salon’s Allen Barra reviews the basics in the current conflict: “What are the issues involved in this year’s labor problems? Exactly the same ones that have been involved in every work stoppage since 1972. And every single one of those stoppages was preceded by the owners’ making new demands of the players — demands that would restrict their hard-won right to free agency — while the players were prepared to accept the status quo.”

Barra takes certain writers to task for their pox-on-both-houses rhetoric attitude, a tactic of writers who “prefer to fan the flames of anger and resentment.” But he misses an opportunity to draw the connection between media-owned franchises and writers who shill for ownership’s interests in their publications. Paging Phil Rogers…

• Over at Baseball Prospecuts, Doug Pappas does his usual stellar job debunking the untruths being spread by Robert DuPuy, president and chief operating officer of Major League Baseball in a recent interview with Baseball America. For instance, DuPuy claims that “Just in operations alone, the clubs last year lost over $300 million,” which contradicts MLB’s “official” figure of $232 million in operating losses, never mind that Forbes Magazine (which knows a wee bit more about money than Bud Selig) estimated that MLB actually made an operating profit of $76.7 million. DuPuy also offers the demonstrably false statement regarding the profitability of the last dozen major league franchise sales (“Of the last dozen sales,” says DuPuy, “fewer than half recouped the investment, let alone the investment plus the losses.” ; Pappas examines each one and concludes that at worst three were break-even and the rest either solidly or highly profitable. Pappas’ work in examining MLB’s finances and exposing their inaccuracies is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL reading; one simply can’t have a legitimate argument about the financial state of the game without acknowledging it.

• David Pinto, a former researcher for ESPN’s Baseball Tonight, has a thoughtful weblog called Baseball Musings. Recently he provoked the ire of a Brewers fan with the following statement:

“This is the team that is making more money than any other franchise. Why didn’t Selig (sorry, I mean, ‘Wendy’) take the profit and give it to Giambi? Here Jason, here’s 18 million a year, come play in Miller park and hit 80 HR a year. We’ll fill the stands, and maybe win some games. No, Bud has to prove that small market teams can’t win in this environment. Meanwhile, the A’s, Twins and Expos are showing how you can do it. The Brewers organization is a sham, and they should be the team to go.”

In his response to the disgruntled Brewers fan, Pinto discusses the relationship between Selig, the stadium game, attendance, and contraction, and offers several remedies specific to Milwaukee’s situation. At the risk of wearing out my welcome to excerpt his work, I’ll advise you (especially my Brew Crew readership) to check out his site.

• Back at Baseball Prospectus, in an otherwise meandering column, Joe Sheehan succinctly summarizes one of the most important solutions to baseball’s current woes: “Motivated ownership groups. Not revenue sharing, not a luxury tax, not the firing of Bud Selig, not new stadiums, not a work stoppage. Motivated, well-funded ownership groups are what baseball needs. Leeches like Carl Pohlad or the Tribune Company or Disney do nothing for the game. ” Amen, brother.

• Finally, Bull Magazine’s Craig Calcaterra discusses the impending racketeering lawsuit against Selig and Expos cum Marlins owner Jeffrey Loria, which charges that the Commish, DuPuy and Loria conspired to dilute his partners’ ownership shares:

“This is no gentlemanly, contractual dispute. To sue someone under the Racketeer-Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (“RICO”) is to go thermonuclear. And while you probably care just about as much as I do (i.e. not at all) about a bunch of obscenely wealthy Québécois getting deked out of their vanity investment, consider that a RICO suit will almost certainly involve gobs of invasive discovery. If nothing else, Selig’s and Loria’s dirty laundry is sure to get a good airing. And if the suit isn’t settled relatively quickly (which, given Selig’s demonstrated lack of foresight, it probably won’t be), we should finally get the inside skinny on some of the league’s more titillating misadventures in ownership.”

Calcaterra opines that should a RICO settlement (in which damages are automatically tripled) cost wealthy owners like George Steinbrenner and Rupert Murdoch serious money, it could spell the end of Bud.

Which obviously wouldn’t be a bad thing, in many of our opinions.