Take Mike Pelfrey -- Please!

So there's no real news on the Johan Santana front. But I just wanted to go on record as saying that if I were running either New York team, I'd give the Twins what they reportedly want these days. I would also give away front-row seats, send a little person up to bat, hire players based on their names, and be fired within days, but that's neither here nor there.

From the Yankees, that would mean Phil Hughes, Melky Cabrera, Jeff Marquez, and some other unnamed guy who isn't Ian Kennedy. I'm not down on Phil Hughes at all, I think he's eventually going to be excellent... but as good as Johan Santana? Almost no one is. Most of the sharper Yankee fans I know want the team to keep Hughes, and I can see the logic (it's certainly vastly more cost-effective), and I'll enjoy watching him pitch if they do. But it's Johan Sanata!

Of course, as you know if you've read this blog for even a few weeks, I have an only semi-rational fixation on the guy, so I may well be wrong here. I just thought I should get these thoughts in writing, so that years from now, either:

A) When Phil Hughes blows out his elbow while resisting arrest on charges of dogfighting and perjury, I can link back to this post and crow about how right I was; or

B) When Johan Santana blows out his elbow while resisting arrest on charges of dogfighting and perjury, you can link back to this post and crow about what a moron I am. Fair's fair.

The truth is, though, I would much rather see Santana land with the Mets. They need him more right now, and watching him in his prime against the bottom of the National League batting orders would be simultaneously beautiful and terrifying. Also, nothing would get the taste of the last few weeks of the Mets' season out of everyone's mouths faster. Yes, they may have to "rip up their farm system" to get the guy... but I mean, their farm system's not that great these days anyway.

I think one reason I'm fascinated by Santana is that I know so little about him, which is what happens when relatively quiet people play for teams in the middle of the country. I don't get to see a lot of interviews or quotes from the guy, which means it's easy to make him into something of an ideal figure. (Plus I used to read a lot of Bat Girl; she referred to him simply as El Presidente).

The only off-field Santana antic I can remember made me like him even more -- it happened this past summer, when the Twins came to Shea. Minnesota broadcaster Bert Blyleven bet Santana he couldn't throw a complete game shutout (note to Blyleven: this works much better with Sidney Ponson); it turned out Santana could, and indeed did, so Blyleven had to let him shave his head:



I think the best part of all this is that while pitching his complete game shutout, Johan Santana was apparently thinking about how he would get to shave Bert Blyleven's head.

I say trade every minor leaguer that isn't nailed down.

Eephus Pitch Would Like To Wish...

... a Merry Christmas to you and yours, from 1978 Mets manager Joe Torre!:


(Awesome/vaguely disturbing photo from the Daily News archives, by Anthony Casale).

Tomorrow I look forward to Chinese food, not one but two movies, and absolutely no discussion whatsoever of the Mitchell Report.

Let's See Him Break The HR Record From INSIDE 2,000 GALLONS OF WATER!

Only A-Rod would hire, to "help him have more control of his image and brand”, the guy who represents Madonna and David Blaine.

Sigh.

Baseball Player Name of the Week

Slim Love, of Love, Mississippi, who played for the 1916-1918 Yankees. I'd hoped he was obese, but no, Slim was a Randy Johnsonish 6'7" beanpole of a pitcher:


Bonus points for having been traded for such well-named players as Chick Shorten and Ossie Vitt.

Love also played for the Senators and the Tigers, gave up Babe Ruth's 42nd career home run, and according to Wikipedia, embarked on a career as a Navy Yard steamfitter when his playing days were over. I have no idea what a steamfitter is, but it sounds badass.

As an aside, if you were wondering what a town called Love in Mississippi might be like, it's hard to say, because Love is listed as "extinct" (har!).

There's No Hope With Dope

As is the case with almost all tragedies, this entire steroids mess could have been avoided if more baseball players had only watched Saved By The Bell:



Amen, Brandon Tartikoff.

Meanwhile, this is off-topic, but I'd just like to point out that in the last few weeks, it seems three separate internet users have found this blog by Googling "fairy raped," for which Eephus Pitch is currently the seventh result listed. Needless to say, I have never been prouder.

A Nation Shrugs

Say it ain't so, Glenallen!

Mitchell Mania is upon us, and Roger Clemens is the big name, but I don't think many baseball fans were shocked by that one. This is what I wrote when he rejoined the Yankees back in May:

"Or maybe, though I hate to bring it up today, it'll come out that he took steroids. There's no hard evidence, but the rumors have swirled for a while, and anyone with that kind of late-career surge has to make you wonder. Clemens also has that "my actual skull has expanded over the years" sort of look to him, plus roid rage (and little else) could explain the Mike Piazza-thrown bat debacle. But you know what? I'm going to ignore that for the moment, and hope there's no fire underneath all the smoke. Or that he never gets caught. Whichever."

Oh well. Clemens is denying it -- vehemently! -- but I don't think there's much doubt at this point. And if you argued that Barry Bonds should get an asterisk and be barred from the Hall of Fame, you'd damn well better argue the same about Clemens, or else all Bonds' ranting about a racist double standard will look a lot less like ranting.

The rest of the report, though, is largely useless, just because it's so clearly (and admittedly) incomplete. This can only be a fraction of the players who used PEDs, since Mitchell leaned so incredibly heavily on one source, Radomski, for so much of his information. We still don't know the whole truth, and we never will; time to work on better drug tests and move the hell on.

But, before we do that: While there are, by my quick and probably incomplete count, 15 players in the report who were on the Yankees at one time or another (I've got 10 Mets, but I might be missing some -- I don't recognize a few of these names), there's not one single mention in here of Brian Cashman or Steinbrenner (or Minaya or Phillips or Wilpon).

How could the front office have been unaware of what was going on, when at LEAST five players** on the 2000 Yankees --the World Champion Yankees -- may well have been juicing? And if they were aware, what, if anything, did they do about it? McNamee, the trainer who says he injected Clemens, was hired by the Yankees at Roger’s request, but dismissed after 2001. Why? Because they realized he was distributing PEDs? That’s just speculation of course, but it’s a natural question, and Mitchell doesn’t seem to have asked it.

The one front office guy who comes out looking truly awful is Giants GM Brian Sabean, and if the Giants have a modicum of integrity left -- unlikely, at this point -- they'll fire him immediately. It's one thing to look the other way while Bonds took steroids. But Sabean apparently heard as far back as 2002 that Bonds' personal trainer, who was allowed in restricted clubhouse areas against the advice of the Giants' own training staff, was getting other players on the team interested in steroids and probably distributing them. And Sabean did absolutely nothing about it (pgs 121-125). Staggeringly spineless and uninspiring leadership there, from the man who once signed Armando Benitez to a three-year, $21 million contract.

Anyway, it will be sort of morbidly interesting to watch the fallout from this, but outside of the Clemens confirmation, I don't think it changes much in the long run.

The day's other interesting story was Alex Rodriguez's conference call officially announcing his new $275 million contract: he said Scott Boras convinced him to opt out by telling him that the Yankees had no interest in keeping him. Can that really be true? Is Boras even creepier and more manipulative than we all assumed? Or is Rodriguez just trying to look like the good guy in all this? Does anybody still care? Tune in next time...




**Note: I'm not counting Pettitte because there's no indication here that he took anything before or after 2002; and David Justice, Mike Stanton, and Chuck Knoblauch are all described in the report as starting their (Radomski-related) PED use after the 2000 World Series. But if you're not inclined to give them the benefit of the doubt -- and I would certainly understand if Mets fans felt that way -- you could make it nine. I've still got: Hill, Canseco, Neagle, Clemens, Grimsley.

How Long Have I Been Asleep?

Well, I'm back. And I've decided not to explain my absence at all, in a blatant and no doubt futile attempt to seem mysterious. Though I will just say that the persistent rumors of my role in the Johan Santana negotiations, while flattering, are completely unfounded... really, how on earth do these things get started?

Anyway, many things have happened in the last few weeks, and while all of this news is now not only old but in fact decrepit and being gnawed on by its own cats, I thought I'd do a very, very quick rundown of recent (ahem!) events, just to catch up.

Torre to the Dodgers: When the season ended, I felt a major pang over losing Joe Torre -- genuine pathos. I'd watched him grimace at middle relievers for 12 years, and I assumed that no matter how the Yankees fared without him, I'd miss him for seasons to come.

But you know what? I'm pretty much over it already. Go figure.

Slightly off-topic: I can't believe they voted Walter O'Malley into the Hall of Fame without a fight. That man is the embodiment of valuing greed and business and calculation over loyalty and individuality and emotion -- which I realize is a major part of any corporate entity, certainly including baseball, and I've generally made my peace with that, but do we really have to go and honor it?

Rivera, Posada, and Pettitte re-up: I like this now, but I know I won't like it in three years, and yet I am apparently unable to truly think that far ahead, so: yay!

A-Rod: Totally torn between feeling privileged that I'll get to watch Rodriguez make history firsthand, and being so fucking tired of talking about this guy already.

Johan Santana: Man, I was so psyched about the idea of Santana in New York -- I don't care which team, I've always said, as long as I can watch the man pitch every fifth day -- but then it was all talk, talk, talk, and no action, and unfulfilled excitement, like the Winter Meetings had been replaced by a 1960s Antonioni movie. I freely admit that I'm not really rational about Santana; if I were a man, you'd call it a man-crush, a blind, fierce, platonic devotion. I can see that trading Jose Reyes or Phil Hughes as part of a package for Santana is maybe not a rational move, and in fact I love both those players, but I just don't care -- my god, that changeup...

Snapping out of it and moving on, some highlights from the last few weeks:

Best Name Picked Up In The Rule V Draft: Callix S. Crabbe, 2B, and it wasn't close. Congratulations to the San Diego Padres.


Healthiest Way to Look at the Mets Offseason: While most of the Amazins fans I’ve talked to are disappointed with the Mets’ tepid moves so far, it’s become clear that it all feels much better if you just apply the Guillermo Mota Standard (GMS) to all incoming players. This began, of course, with Johnny Estrada, a mediocre catcher who nevertheless has the clear and much-lauded advantage of not being Guillermo Mota, for whom he was traded. But it works with other players, too. Lastings Milledge for Ryan Church and Brian Schneider!?!? Well, think of it this way: neither of those guys is Guillermo Mota, am I right? Doesn’t seem like such a bad trade now, does it?

Most Depressing Management Quote of the Fall: From the Orioles, of course. Just beating out Hammerin' Hank Steinbrenner's declaration that Jennifer Love Hewitt is his favorite actress, it's Baltimore President Andy MacPhail, as quoted in the Boston Globe (via Baseball Prospectus): "When the Egyptians were building the pyramids, they didn't think about what they had to build, they just carried the rocks up. I think that's what we have to do."

This explains so much. Never mind that I'm pretty sure the ancient Egyptians actually did put a fair amount of thought into creating structures that constitute, in context, some of the greatest engineering feats of all time; more to the point, I believe the Baltimore fans of my acquaintance -- those who are not yet institutionalized and heavily medicated -- would be very intrigued by Mr. MacPhail's view that the problem with Orioles management is that they've been thinking too much. Turns out we've been looking at this thing backwards all along!

Sorry, Balmer. At least The Wire will be back soon.

How Many Yankee Executives Does It Take To Screw In A Lightbulb?

So it's the end of the Joe Torre Era and, essentially, the end of the George Steinbrenner Era... and the new Yankee brain trust just took 10 days to massively botch their first major decision. Not a good sign, people.

I should've jumped into this fray earlier, because by now you're sick of reading about it, but in short: I can understand the desire to bring in a new manager; my only real issue with it, sentimentality aside, is that I'm not sure there's a better candidate than Joe Torre available right now. But like most Yankee fans, I think, I'll hear you out if you want to argue that it's time for a change. The way they went about it, however, could hardly have been more inept -- "they" here referring to a vague oligarchy that includes the two Steinbrenner sons, one son-in-law, Brian Cashman, COO Lonn Trost (great name), and last but not least Randy Levine, who managed the tricky feat of going from virtually unknown among average Yankee fans to universally despised in the span of just 48 hours.

The only bright thing to come out of this mess is that it led to a flock of reporters racing around Tampa in search of the Yankee meetings, and then settling in for a completely fruitless stakeout, which led to a number of amusing articles and an absolutely classic hour-by-hour live blog on NJ.com:

2 p.m.: Meetings and smoke breaks

The meetings continue. Every 40 to 60 minutes, Hank Steinbrenner (the older son and the one more involved in baseball decisions) takes a smoke break on the concrete open-air stairwell outside George Steinbrenner's office on the south end of the fourth floor of Legends Field.

For his last break, at about 1:40 p.m., Hank was accompanied by brother-in-law Felix Lopez.

3 p.m.: Grounds gets attention

As the meeting continue (as far as I can tell) in the Legends Field offices, a grounds crew attends to the half-field just outside the stadium.

The field is used for pickoff drills, pitchers' fielding practice and perhaps bunt work. So there seems no way it will be used until mid-February. But the workers are cutting the grass and watering the dirt as if a game will be played there tonight.

4 p.m.: Meetings may be over

There is some activity here that leads one to believe the meeting is breaking up soon...

Sports writing is a glamorous business, and never let anyone tell you different! Anyway, live updates aside, the situation was a total mess, leaving Torre and the fans ticked off and the Yankee ownership-by-committee looking self-serving, indecisive, two-faced, and scared.

As usual, it's not the underhanded shenanigans that bother me, but their clumsiness in executing same -- I enjoy a good Machiavellian power play as much as anyone, it just pisses me off when people don't take the time to disguise it intelligently. Randy Levine: "We were all stunned and remain stunned that he turned the deal down." Literally, and I am not making this up, my superintendent's 12-year-old grandson immediately knew that this was bullshit. Now granted he's a bright kid, but come on -- if you can't lie any better than that, how the hell did you ever manage to climb the corporate ladder in the first place?

I can already feel the nostalgia coming on, yet I've never been a George Steinbrenner fan -- the yelling and irrational firings, the compulsive trades, the illegal contributions to the Nixon campaign... he put money into the team and he wanted to win as badly as any fan, and I admire that, but didn't like a lot of what came with it. Still, he was his own guy: he did what he wanted, and he didn't give a rat's ass if anyone else liked it, which they usually didn't. I don't want to romanticize him too much, because he's hardly a hero, but at least his particular brand of sinister wasn't bland or sneaky or bureaucratic. These new guys will slowly bleed you dry with a thousand tiny paper cuts; Steinbrenner ripped out your spine with his bare hands and beat you to death with it. In retrospect, I have to respect that.


I'll have more soon on Sox/Rox. And by the way, has anyone heard from the Mets recently? It's awfully quiet over there.... think we should we send someone over to check on them?

You Heard It Here First...

...every member of the Colorado Rockies is on steroids. That's right, I'm calling it. Just brace yourself now, so you won't be disappointed when the Mitchell Report comes out.

Colorado semi-won me over in this series, if only because their fanbase seemed so much more committed than Arizona's (if you can't sell out a ballpark during the playoffs, you really don't deserve to win). They've been really fun to watch on the field, though personality-wise, I still don't have a very good grip on the team. Question: is it possible to still qualify as an underdog when you've won 21 of your last 22 games?

And: kudos to the Coors Field fan with the "SNAKES ON A PLANE" sign. Nicely done.

I'll give TBS credit, because their analysis really improved as the playoffs went on -- Ernie Johnson eventually got Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn to loosen up a bit, and they added Ron Darling, who as you probably know if you've been reading this site for any length of time, I love. (SNY's broadcast trio is great in general, but Darling is the glue that holds Gary Cohen and Keith Hernandez together, and prevents either of them from getting too schticky).

That said, it's thanks to TBS that in the last month I've gained a roiling hatred for three people of whose existence, until a few weeks ago, I was only vaguely aware: Chip Caray, that guy Frank in the Frank TV ads, and Dane Cook. It's a blessing the Rockies swept (and you know they think so too!).

I'll leave you for the moment with a hilarious Dan Cook quote, apologizing in advance lest you laugh too hard and possibly injure yourself or disturb your coworkers:

I went over to the mall, I had to park nearby in a...in the parking structure. You know when you park you the parking structure you...you go on up and it's like 40 stories and you always to park up on the fuckin' roof. What do they pave that with, what is that, not concrete. Whatever that's paved with you could be driving five miles an hour it sounds like your in a chase scene from Chips like errrrrrrrrgggghhhhhhh! I'm backing up! Errrrrrrrrgggghhhhhhh! What the fuck is that!

Amen, brother.

By Golly!

Well, I'm back from my extremely brief Newsday hiatus -- thanks, Yankees! FIRE EVERYONE* -- and I need some help. Am I supposed to root for the Diamondbacks or the Rockies now?

I'm still holding a grudge against Arizona from '01, but there's not really anyone left now from that team, except the resentful ghost of The Big Unit. And I like Orlando Hudson, but he's injured. At the same time, the Rockies creep me out a bit with their super-Christianity (though I have to say, they've done a good job of keeping it publicly low-key this season). Todd Helton, after they won the Division Series, was interviewed on the field and actually said: "By golly, we did it." By golly!

Meanwhile, Arizona fans may not have actually sold out their playoff game, but they have mastered the art of throwing so much dangerous trash onto the field to protest an interference call that play has to be delayed. I'm not going to get on my high horse here, because New York fans have certainly been known to toss the odd object onto the diamond... I was at Game 6 of the 2004 ALCS at Yankee Stadium, and they ended up calling out the riot police for that one; Shea fans famously came close to taking out Pete Rose with a hurled whiskey bottle in '73. And it's a minor miracle that John Rocker ever made it out of that bullpen alive.

Anyway, there are dozens of choices for the Mets and Yanks to make over the next few weeks, so there'll be a lot to talk about. I once again feel compelled to say that while I realize Bobby Valentine as the next Yankees manager would be a disaster... god, what a gift it would be for bloggers. On a personal level I'd like to see Joe Torre back; intellectually I think it may be time for a change for the sake of change; professionally, I've got my fingers crossed for the current manager of the Chiba Lotte Marines. I've become fairly obsessed with his blog and more determined than ever to procure a Bobby V brand Worldwide Ballers jersey.

Coming up tomorrow (or maybe Saturday): my incomplete list of the Best Joe Torre-isms.


*Kidding. Mostly.

When October Goes

Hey everybody -- just want to let you know that I've got a blog up at Newsday.com today, Spanning the Playoffs (I know, I know). I'll be writing there about the Yankees, for however long they're in this thing; so please stop by, laugh at my hair in that photo, and comment if you feel moved to do so.

In the meantime, I'll try to keep writing here about the Mets and other baseball news once in a while. (And I've got an article in this week's New York Press about their last stand).

Everything but Yankees-Indians gets underway tonight. On... TBS. This should be interesting.

Things Fall Apart

Sorry for the delay in getting around to Sunday's cataclysm at Shea. I was writing about it for tomorrow's New York Press, and I needed to sort out my thoughts for that first. When the game ended I was actually at a loss for words -- longtime readers will know this is not common -- and while that didn't last long, it's still hard to make sense of the whole mess: there were 20 different quite practical reasons for it, and yet on some level it really defied logical explanation. Yes, it was the pitching, first and foremost, and there was a lack of hustle at times, and a number of key hitters underperformed... all of that is true. But, man: the baseball gods were angry.

I also think this bumps the Mets fanbase up from sort of middle-of-the-road suffering to seriously put-upon. Seeing all those heartbroken kids at Shea was just wrenching... I mean, the Yankees sucked when I was growing up, but they never did anything like that to me.

It's amazing (har!) that one terrible game could totally wipe out all the good things Tom Glavine did for the Mets in his time in New York, but that's what just happened. I have to assume he'll be back pitching next year -- because how do you leave a 20-year Hall of Fame career like that? But not with the Mets, he won't be. I hate to say it, but he really hurt himself with his calm, composed postgame comments; what he said was fair, but if the fans were ever going to even think about forgiving him they needed to see some real emotion there. Meanwhile, ESPN has a rumor (Insider only) suggesting Glavine might sign with the Nationals next season, which, god, would just be depressing on every conceivable level.

I have to say, while Mets fans have the right to be just as freaked out, crazed and irrational as they need to be right now, the maelstrom of blame is getting out of hand. There are many very legitimate complaints to be made about Minaya, Randolph, Reyes, Glavine, El Duque's bunion et al, but does anyone really believe that the Mets collapsed because Reyes was out on the town too late with Luis Castillo? Come on now.

Meanwhile Scott Schoeneweis of all people has been accused of ordering steroids three years ago -- altogether now Mets fans: "why did he stop?!" -- though he denies it; and Billy Wagner complained to New York Magazine about Willie Randolph and Rick Peterson's bullpen management, though he has since apologized and claims that his remarks out of context. Good times. (By the way, that NY Mag article is generally well-written and I don't mean to nit-pick -- okay, fine, yes I do -- but how do you refer to Ian Kennedy as "fireballing"?).

Omar Minaya was on Mike and the Mad Dog this afternoon-- they were pretty hard on him, but fair for the most part. Minaya didn't say anything especially shocking (except that, it sounds like, he really was considering firing Randolph for a little while there); he was careful to be politic, but he also owned up to some of the team's problems. MetsBlog has a good recap of what was said. Anyway, it was an extremely interesting and emotional interview; then Bud Selig came on the show and I... he talked a lot about... it was... zzzzzzzZZZZZZzzzzzz...

Yes, leave it to the Commish to valiantly step in and soothe the pain of agonized Mets fans by lulling them into a gentle, healing sleep. Anyway, two words for the Mets front office this winter: Johan Santana. Give the Twins whatever the hell they want, and do it with a smile.

Champagne Supernova

It's been an exhausting week for both New York teams, but, uh... well, different results. Mets fans, I really recommend you skip the following section of this post -- all the blue text -- and resume reading farther down. I'll have more for you tomorrow, from Shea Stadium in fact... the Happiest Place on Earth.

---

First, I have a recap of last night's Wild Card-clinching game up on Bronx Banter. I've gotta say, I'm a real sucker for these locker room celebrations, even when it's a team I have no particular attachment to; it's just so rare to see that many adults so purely happy. A few thoughts that didn't fit in the recap:

-A commenter at the Banter the other day pointed out that Joba Chamberlain's ERA+ is now 1042. Not a typo. 1042. For those of you not sabermetrically inclined, all you need to know is that "ERA+" basically measures how good a pitcher is compared to the rest of his league, and anything over *100* is above average; for context, Mariano Rivera, almost certainly the best reliever in the game over the last 12 years overall, has a lifetime ERA+ of 196. That's awesome, 196. Joba Chamberlain's is 1042.

Now obviously, over time, Chamberlain's numbers will become less incomprehensibly superhuman; doing something for six weeks and doing something for 12 years are two very different things. Nevertheless: that's insane.

Chamberlain earned his first save a few nights ago, as Mariano Rivera was being rested, and it occurs to me that one unintended consequence of Joba Mania is that it actually gives the Yankees a little leverage in their upcoming contract negotiations with Rivera. Back in July, it seemed like they'd have no choice but to give him whatever he wanted, because who on earth would they replace him with? But now, if Rivera does leave (granted, that's highly unlikely), the Yankees have another option for really the first time since 1995.

That said, I can only imagine that letting Mariano Rivera go would result in a hideous boomerang of negative karma so severe that Red Sox fans would be mockingly chanting "2000!" from their 23rd century space bleachers. If you're the Yankees, you just have to pay the guy. But: possibly not quite as much as you thought you would.

---

Welcome back Mets fans, it's safe now. In other news:

--The police have busted an international steroid ring (again, some more). So who's getting exposed this time? Barack Obama? Cardinal Egan? Maddox Jolie-Pitt? Surprise me.

By the way, you have to love government code names -- this was Operation Raw Deal. Once again I'm reminded that I really need to start giving more things in my life code names.

--Anthony Rieber reveals his plan for world domination in his latest Newsday mailbag. That's not a bad idea about eliminating the leagues, and making divisions all about geography; but, as MLB moves towards change with all the momentum of a three-legged tree sloth on Oxycontin... well, maybe your grandkids will enjoy the new setup one day.

--The Mets... what can you really say at this point? What can they say? I asked some of my Mets fan friends what they'd like to ask the team right now and I got several responses, none of them practical:

1) "What the hell? That's it, just: what the hell?"
2) "Why do you hate me?"
3) "Little Timmy needs a new heart. Little Timmy is very sick. Little
Timmy is a Mets fan. Will you go out there and win one for Little
Timmy?"

What I still don't understand is why they couldn't have at least tried to bribe the Nationals, you know? Would that have been so hard? The team just invested a big chunk of capital in Dmitri "Da Meat Hook" Young, so it's not like they couldn't use the cash, and what's another loss or two to them at this point in the season? I trust the Mets will at least give this a shot when facing the Marlins this weekend.

A Good Plan, Violently Executed Now, Is Better Than a Perfect Plan Next Week

I have said this before, but they keep making me repeat it:

Attention, Tampa Bay Devil Rays. People are not avoiding your team because its name or logo have negative, Satanic connotations. People are avoiding your team because you've never lost fewer than 90 games in a season in your entire miserable existence, you spend less money on your entire team than the Yankees spend on right-handed relief pitchers, and you have become the yardstick by which all other Major League franchises measure failure.

Really good that you removed the "Devil" from your new logo and uniforms, though. You'll be beating 'em off with a stick.

Kapparot '07

In honor of Yom Kippur, Day of Atonement, I hereby present some of my more egregious blogging sins of the past year and humbly ask for your forgiveness. For whatever reason, most of my most painfully inaccurate opinions have related to the Yankees this season... I guess because it didn't take a genius to realize that El Duque would be injury-prone (although: arthritis and bunions?!), or that acquiring Ambiorix "Young Dominican Kyle Farnsworth With Elbow Problems" Burgos wasn't such a hot idea.

October 2, 2006: "...you just can’t be too impressed by a team whose putative ace is Kenny Rogers. The Detroit GM could have asked any New Yorker over the age of, say, 17 about this, and saved himself a lot of trouble and money. And I know there’s no better way to make yourself look like an idiot than to try and predict a short playoff series… so I’m not going to start now, I guess… but, honestly, I will be flat-out stunned if the Tigers beat the Yankees. Anything can happen, sure, of course, but you’ll have to scrape my jaw off the floor with a spatula."

Well, I wasn't totally wrong there, really. I mean, I was flat-out stunned.

November 29, 2006: "I know very little about Igawa... Still, given the choice between Igawa, Ted Lily or Gil Mesh, I’d take a flyer on the Hanshin Tigers ace."

December 6, 2006: "Alternately, perhaps Cashman's just been laughing too hard over Gil Meche's $55 million five year deal to use the telephone coherently."

I'm so sorry, Gil Mesh; I was wrong to treat you that way. And just look at you now; has your ERA lost some weight? Kei seemed so exciting, exotic and new -- but baby, I was a fool.

May 27, 2007: "It's still May, but by now it's pretty safe to say this is just not the Yanks' year... [they're] still much better than their current record, and I'll be shocked if they don't end up well over .500. That, however, seems unlikely to earn them a playoff spot this year... A comeback is still possible, sure. It's also possible that Clive Owen will knock on my door tomorrow night carrying an Al Green CD, a kitten, and a bottle of Glenlivet, but frankly, I'm not loving the odds."

May 28, 2007: "While the Yankees pick through the burned wreckage of their season, looking for anything that might have survived the cataclysm ("look guys, this Chien-Ming Wang is hardly even singed!"), the Mets are just plain rolling... Honestly, everyone could sense the reversals of fortune coming last year... But I certainly didn't think the divergence would be this extreme."

I'm still waiting on Clive, though.

What can I say? I didn't think the Yanks had it in 'em. Whatever happens in the next week, even in the playoffs, coming back to make the AL East a real race is a remarkable turn of events. (Though, by that same token, sucking like such a gaping black hole for the first two months was quite an achievement in itself). I hope fans will be able to properly appreciate it -- even if the Angels once again knock New York out in the Division Series. Or the Indians; am I the only one who's afraid of the Indians? Fausto Carmona is not fucking around this year.

July 31, 2007: "... the Red Sox just made their bullpen even better with the addition of Eric Gagne. The Yankees weren't catching them anyway, frankly, barring massive injury to half the Boston pitching staff; but now they're really not catching them. It's all about the Wild Card..."

I repent.

Now will you please let the Mets win a goddamn series?!?

I Forgot My Mantra

Awkward article in the Times today that tries to compare the Mets' losing streak with other famous New York "collapses". I know it's all in good fun, but leaving aside the fact that Crazy Eddie's jail term for fraud, the end of the disco era, and Jorge Sosa's control problems are what you might generously describe as only tenuously connected, did you really need to get a Harvard psychology professor to tell you that "there is always next season"?

Anyway, I'm sticking to my the-Mets-will-be-fine guns here, but they're sure not making it easy for me. Relief pitchers are funny creatures, aren't they? Sosa was brilliant last night and terrible tonight. Feliciano and Heilman simultaneously dropped from excellent last year to just pretty good. Mota... well, there's a logical explanation for that one, so let's leave him out of it. Joe Smith burned brightly but too fast. This past offseason I thought the Mets were making a huge mistake letting Chad Bradford go, and I still think that may be the case in the long run -- but he's not having a very good year for Baltimore anyway. (Though he has grown an alarming 80's-cop mustache, so at least this season hasn't been a total bust for him).

Seriously, outside of the game's top-tier closers, are there any safe bets in the bullpen from year to year? Is this about small sample size, or is it just because if middle relievers were really reliably good they wouldn't be middle relievers? Or both? I will consult the oracle that is Baseball Prospectus on this subject in the morning.

I admit my confidence is finally a bit shaken now -- it was tonight's loss that did it. The Mets are certainly better than they've shown recently, and better than the Marlins and the Nationals... but what if they just have another week of bad luck, injuries, bullpen meltdowns?

No. It doesn't matter. Repeat after me, the Phillies have the third-worst ERA in the National League. The Phillies have the third-worst ERA in the National League. The Phillies have the third-worst ERA in the National League...

Bobby Valentine: WORLDWIDE BALLERS!

A few quick notes:

--I can't believe I just celebrated a game-winning hit from Yadier Molina.

--The Orioles have completely and emphatically packed it in. Come on now, suck it up, fellas -- even Tampa Bay's still playing hard. There were a few exceptions (Brian Roberts, Melvin Mora, pitcher Brian Burres), but if the Yankees do, by some miracle, win the AL East, it will be because they play this hollow shell of a ball club three more times.

--There's a reason no team with a 7-run lead in September has ever lost their division, which is why I don't believe that the Phillies will catch the Mets, or the Yankees will pass the Sox. Still, I'd be lying if I pretended I'm not highly entertained by the ritualistic rending of garments in Boston. I do feel for Terry Francona, who doesn't deserve this level of venom -- have you ever met a serious baseball fan who didn't complain about his manager's bullpen management? Julio Lugo, however, has it coming.

I just came across this story, from last week: "Lugo Has Yen For Japan." Red Sox fans: "Please accept this gift of a one-way economy class ticket, and give Bobby V our regards."

And with that last link, I discovered that through Bobby Valentine's official blog, you can purchase a Bobby Valentine jersey with the erstwhile Mets manager's name on the front and the phrase "WORLDWIDE BALLERS" on the back. Really. Look:


Somebody give me even one good reason why I shouldn't immediately purchase this.

Mr. Met's Wild Ride

I have an article on the Mets in this week's New York Press. It was interesting to be back in the press box after so long... I went out on a bit of a limb here, saying the Mets are still the best team in their division and that I don't think the Phillies will catch them. So if they don't get a couple wins soon, I'm going to look a bit silly.


But they will... right? It just might not be tonight. Poor Mike Pelfrey, that's a tough spot to put a rookie in. But let's not forget that this is, after all, the Nationals, who rely on Dimitri Young for the bulk of their offense. And whatever happens tonight, Tom Glavine is the guy you want going tomorrow to restore order.

If you'd told me in May that the Yankees would have a better record and bigger playoff slot lead than the Mets... what an odd season it's been. But, on that note: relax, Sox fans. The Yanks still aren't winning the division, not unless Francona pitches Gagne every night. (Full disclosure: it's not really possible to be more wrong about a trade than I was about that one.)

Meanwhile, via the Banter, the Daily News has a nice, in-depth story on Bernie Williams, who is taking the kids to school, recording an album and waxing nostalgic about the majors. He's his usual classy self and though he admits to very much missing the game, he insists there are no hard feelings. Aw, Bernie. I don't miss watching him trying to play center field over the last three years, but I do miss him. Also, here's something I don't think I knew:

Willie Randolph, an old friend, called and asked if he'd consider playing in Queens, telling him he would love to have him. Williams said thanks, but stayed home.

Huh, wouldn't that have been interesting. You know, back when Alou and Chavez and Green and Gomez and Beltran were all going down with injuries, he could have come in pretty handy. No one wants to see him in Shea's massive center field, but don't tell me he couldn't have played a better left than Damion Easley, or pinch-hit better than Julio Franco.

More soon, now that I'm back in the saddle.

Baseball Player Name of the Week

Okay, fine, so maybe I overreacted a bit to the Ankiel story (though I'm still not buying his "it was for medical purposes!" tactic). Joba Chamberlain's father Harlan proved even more effective than kitlers in cheering me up... and in any case, the important thing to remember is, there are still beautiful, natural names in this game. Names like this week's winner:

Ossee Schreckengost.


Ossee had a lifetime on-base percentage of .297 and no power, so I'm assuming he was a really, really good defensive catcher. He's best known for insisting that roommate Rube Waddell's* contract be changed to include a provision prohibiting him from eating crackers in bed.

I often wish players were still required to have roommates on the road... we're missing out on some funny stories, and possibly a few highly entertaining arrest reports.

NOTW Runner up: Brewers infielder Hernan Iribarren.

*Waddell, an alcoholic who occasionally left his team's games to chase fire trucks, could be distracted by children's toys while on the mound, and wrestled alligators during the offseason, deserves his own post. As Bill James once wrote, he "would have been as great a pitcher as Walter Johnson if only he had the sense God gave a rabbit."

Also, Santa Claus Raped the Tooth Fairy While the Easter Bunny Watched and Laughed

You know, just when you think you're already disillusioned, that you can't really be unpleasantly surprised any more by the actions of public figures, let alone professional athletes... the world finds a way to prove you wrong.

St. Louis Cardinals outfielder Rick Ankiel, who punctuated a storybook comeback from pitching woes by homering twice with 7 RBIs Thursday, joined the list of athletes linked to a Florida-based steroids investigation.

The New York Daily News reported Friday that Ankiel received a 12-month supply of human growth hormone in 2004 from a Florida pharmacy that was part of a national illegal prescription drug-distribution operation, citing records its reporters saw.

I should point out here that this story only alleges that Ankiel received HGH before 2005, which is when MLB officially, belatedly banned it, and that means it might have absolutely nothing to do with his current comeback. And you know what? That comeback is still remarkable, no matter what he might have taken. Nevertheless, once again I'm forced to remind myself that if a story seems too good to be true, that probably just means there's something going on that I don't know about.

To summarize:

• Athletes that are not abusing animals or drinking and driving are either using performance enhancing drugs, beating their wives, cheating on their taxes, or dumb as a sack of nails.

• Your elected representative is sleeping with either a hooker (Democrat) or underage male congressional page (Republican) while accepting thinly-disguised bribes.

• According to polls your significant other likely has cheated, is cheating, or will eventually cheat on you.

• Your dog only loves you because you feed it.

Have a great weekend!

Okay, okay. In other, less cynicism-inducing news (unless you're a fan of a small-market team, anyway), the Yankees won two of three from the Mariners and now lead the Wild Card by three games. That's not nothing, though whether it will be enough to survive a pitching rotation that includes two 21-year-old rookies and the remains of either an injured Roger Clemens or a free-falling Mike Mussina is still unclear. Personally, I think they're going to the playoffs; although a Yankee-hating friend of mine did paint a terrifyingly realistic portrait for me earlier today of a scenario in which they go through a 2-3 stretch, while Detroit wins five in a row, and are then eliminated from contention over the season's last three days by the Baltimore Orioles. Shudder.

Having swept the Braves over the past weekend, the Mets are in better shape, even though they did just blatantly doze through that last game against Cincinnati. They can afford to do that now, though -- all season the Mets' critics have said "oh, they think they can just turn it on whenever they have to"; but all season, the Mets have been able to turn it on whenever they had to. More power to 'em.

I feel bad about my earlier negativity and I'd like to leave this post on a more upbeat note, so please follow this link.

Or this one.