First off, thanks to everyone for all their nickname ideas - in particular, I think we got some good ones for Billy Butler now, and possibly Soria. I plan to do a roundup after the holiday and then we'll get to voting on them, but in the meantime I need to catch up on all the action.
Though speaking of nicknames...who would have thought that "Shake" (for Yabuta) would be the first one to show up in the Star? Anyone? Or did he already earn this nickname from somewhere else and I missed it?
- I tried to put on a brave face after the no-hitter, but if I were a gambling man, you couldn't have set the odds high enough for me to avoid betting on the Royals being swept. There we were, rolling along, having won 6 out of 7...and suddenly we're in Fenway park and history is being made at our expense. A better team would have bounced back. We all know from painful experience that the Royals are not that team.
During my preseason Top 23, I compared the Rockies in the World Series against the Red Sox to Homer Simpson facing Roger Clemens in the company softball league, because the National League was just so inferior to the American League. But I think the comparison is really between the Red Sox and every other team in baseball. In my lifetime, I'm not sure there has ever been an organization that so towered above every other baseball team in every way - financial, player development, statistical analysis, creative thinking, what have you - as the Red Sox do right now. Maybe the mid-70s Reds were like that, I don't know (though I'm sure that Poz's next book will have the answer.)
Still, it's one thing to lose to a superior team in their park, and it's another to get swept, and yet another to lose the first game on a no-hitter and the last game when you give up two grand slams. The Royals were a game under .500 on Monday; now they're 21-26 and a game out of last place. I'll say this: if these were the 2004-06 Royals, a series this traumatic would have sent them tumbling into a tailspin that would take them a few weeks to get out of.
The 2005 Royals had that 19-game losing streak, of course, but also had an 8-game and a 9-game streak. The 2004 Royals had a pair of 8-game streaks, and the 2006 Royals had an 11-game and a 13-game losing streak before the end of May, as well as an 8-gamer in September. Last year the Royals topped out at seven games twice, and they had a seven-game streak this April. Meanwhile, they haven't won six games in a row since April, 2003. (In 2004, they went the whole season without a four-game winning streak. That's nearly impossible, folks.)
So they need to stop things right here. As Sparky Anderson always said, "Momentum is tomorrow's starting pitcher." The Baseball Jonah takes the mound in Toronto tomorrow night. I like our chances.
- Speaking of Greinke, you have to feel good that for such a supposedly flaky guy, his pitching has been incredibly consistent this year. I'm not a fan of the quality start statistic*, but Greinke has 8 quality starts out of 9 tries, and the only reason he isn't 9-for-9 is that he only pitched 5 innings in one start. As the Elias Bureau has pointed out, Greinke's the first Royal to not surrender more than 3 runs in any of his first 9 starts since Appier started the 1992 season with 12 straight, a team record.
*: The reason I'm not a fan has nothing to do with the complaints some people have that it rewards mediocrity because 6 innings and 3 runs is a quality start. (These are the same people that love the save even though you can give up 2 runs in an inning and still get one.) No, I just don't like any binary, "yes-or-no" statistic. The stat divides the world into two categories: quality starts and non-quality starts. But what about dominant starts? Or disaster starts? There is an almost infinite range of "quality" that a start can take on - why are we separating them into just two bins?
The quality start had a place on the stat table 20 years ago, but today we have super-fast computers and the internet and baseball-reference.com and we can split data a hundred different ways - why should we rely on such a blunt instrument to evaluate pitchers? According to the quality start, the difference between giving up 4 runs in 7 innings and 3 runs in 6 innings is huge, but the difference between 3 runs in 6 innings and a complete game shutout is waved away. If you want to evaluate starting pitchers on a start-by-start basis, use Support-Neutral Wins and Losses - a great stat that calculates the odds of winning each start based on the number of innings and runs allowed, as well as park and league context.**
**: Hey, that was my first Pozterisk! And this is now my second!
- Hey, anyone know where Butler's bat is hiding? After his season-opening 13-game hitting streak, he's hitting .216/.298/.276 over the span of 33 games. It's almost enough to make one pine for Ross Gload. (Almost.) I've heard some griping that the Royals should send Butler down to find his stroke, but that's silly. The only reason to send him down would be for cynical purposes: to delay free agency. But since Butler was called up mid-season last year, sending him down for a few weeks won't have any impact - he's ours through 2013 either way.
A month in Triple-A might keep him from being a Super-Two player and therefore arbitration-eligible after 2009, but that's usually a difference of a few million dollars at most, whereas delaying free agency a year can potentially be worth eight figures. He's 22; he's going to have stretches like this. But his strikeout-to-walk ratio (26/19) is better than last year (55/27) - it's just that, for whatever reason, he's hit one homer all year. I blame Mike Barnett, but then at this point I'm prepared to blame Barnett for the Chengdu earthquake.
- The pitching staff has a knack for knowing which days the offense is going to score some runs and picking those games to completely crap the bed. The Royals are now just 6-4 in games in which they score 6 runs or more. In games in which they score exactly two runs, they have the exact same winning percentage (3-2). I have no explanation.
- Is it time to stage an intervention? Hillman seems to have no understanding of what an intentional walk is supposed to be used for. He called for just his third IBB of the season, and like the second IBB of the season, he called for it in a completely inappropriate situation, and with completely appropriate results.
With men on second and third and two out, Hillman had Gobble walk Manny Ramirez in order to face Mike Lowell. I don't even know where to begin here:
1) Since dropping his arm slot last season, Gobble has a huge platoon split; LHB hit .241 last year and are hitting .091 this year, while RHB hit .319 and .389. So you walk a right-handed hitter to face...another right-handed hitter?
2) There were two out, so you're not gaining the possibility of a double play by putting a man on first. Many times you'll walk a hitter with one out because of the risk he'll drive in a run with a flyball or a slow grounder, but with two outs that threat wasn't there.
3) Worst of all, by walking Ramirez, Hillman was ordering the bases loaded - meaning the Red Sox could score a run with a walk, not just a hit. With Ramirez at the plate, they could only score with a hit.
In other words, roughly speaking the odds that Ramirez would drive in a run was equivalent to his batting average. The odds that Lowell would drive in a run was equivalent to his on-base percentage. Maybe Ramirez is the better hitter overall, but his career batting average is .312, while Lowell's career OBP is .343. And that probably overstates the difference, since Ramirez is 36 and has hit over .300 just once in the last four years.
The last time Hillman called for this move - when Aubrey Huff hit a three-run homer after Markakis was walked - I was willing to cut him some slack, arguing that he'll learn from his decision and won't repeat it. Well, he did. And I'm not cutting him some slack this time. One bonehead move is a fluke. Two bonehead moves are a trend. I don't want to contemplate what three bonehead moves constitutes, Trey, so don't give me a reason to.
- Bannister proved my point that his day/night splits are overstated, though I would have preferred it if he had waited for a night game to do so. He allowed 12 hits in 25 at-bats, raising his BABIP from .258 to .282, which is still a good mark. I didn't see the game live so I can't comment, but Posnanski pointed out that two of the singles that preceded Drew's grand slam might have been turned into outs if Tony Pena were playing shortstop instead of Callaspo.
There's no great solution to our shortstop problem, but I strongly feel - as I have for a while - that the best solution is to platoon these guys based on our starting pitcher, not the opponent's. When a power, flyball pitcher is on the mound - i.e. Greinke or Meche - fewer balls are likely to be hit to the shortstop, so Callaspo should start. The same goes for Tomko, especially since he's likely to give up enough runs that we need all the bats we can get. But when Bannister, who pitches to contact, or Hochevar, who's a strong groundball pitcher, starts, then Pena should as well. It seems to me that Hillman is making the decision of who starts at shortstop on any given day based on how frustrated he is with Pena's bat at the moment. He needs to make this decision proactively, not retroactively. Come up with a plan and stick with it.
- Man, Alex Gordon is this close to opening up a can of whoop-ass on the league, isn't he? Since May 6th, he's 19-for-55 (.345) with as many walks (12) as strikeouts. He's reaching the point where he just won't swing at the pitcher's pitch - if he doesn't like the pitch, he'll let it go, unless there are two strikes, in which case he'll foul it off and wait for the next one. For all the great hitters we had in the 1990s - Sweeney, Damon, Beltran, Dye - none of them fully embraced a take-and-rake approach. Gordon's on pace for 81 walks, but if he keeps up his current approach, he might get to 90 or more. Do you know the last time a Royal walked 90 times in a season? 1989, when Kevin Seitzer walked 102 times.
- Gordon may not even lead the team, though, because he's currently tied with Mark Teahen with 23 walks. Teahen continues to drive me crazy, because I can't get a good read on a guy with such obvious strengths (positional flexibility, baserunning skills, attitude, plate discipline) and weaknesses (power, average). If you don't have the latter two, the first four don't mean anything, but Teahen has hit for power before, and he did so when he was just 24. It's not unheard of for guys to have a power spike at 24 and then to never hit for power ever again, but it's pretty damn rare.
I don't know that there's a solution here. Some people would love to dump him and give his job to Shane Costa or Mitch Maier, but Teahen is just a few months older than those guys, and I'll take my chances with the guy who has shown he can hit in the majors over the guys who haven't. I think that, like Butler, Teahen is one of those guys the Royals just have to play every day and stomach the slumps, in the hopes that in 2009 or 2010 he'll make The Leap. Even if it means some lean stretches in 2008.
- It's great that Teahen can play first base in a pinch. Let's keep it that way.
- Juicy rumor from Jayson Stark that the Royals might consider - or at least should consider - trading DeJesus. It would be hard to let him go from an emotional standpoint, but it's something the Royals absolutely need to consider. I've been saying for a year now that neither DeJesus nor Gathright have much value outside of centerfield, and it's a waste of resources to keep both players when the Royals have other holes they need to fill. DeJesus, in particular, is a league-average player and has a very favorable contract, and that's worth a ton on the trade market. It would be a risk to go with Gathright every day, but can it be any worse than going with Pena every day? If the Royals can get a young shortstop that can actually hit, they need to pull the trigger. Atlanta would have been the perfect destination this winter (for Brent Lillibridge), but with Mark Kotsay playing well for them now, that ship has sailed.
- While John Buck hasn't had a great year, it seems once or twice a week he'll be up with a man in scoring position and poke a single to left to bring the run home. So I decided to look up what he's hitting with runners in scoring position. He's an amazing 14-for-28, an even .500. Somehow, he only has 13 RBIs, because with a man on second only, he's 5-for-9 but only two of those singles drove the runner in. With two outs - when runners are moving on contact - he's just 4-for-14, but with less than two out he's a ridiculous 10-for-14.
Last year, remember, he hit just .179/.257/.326 with RISP, and in fact was so poor with men on base that the Royals thought it had something to do with his new batting stance (you know, the one that allowed him to hit 10 homers by June 4th) and made him give it up, with the result that he didn't hit in any situation the rest of the way.
The point here is that if clutch hitting was a skill, John Buck wouldn't go from hitting .179 with RISP to .500 from one season to the next. The ability to hit better in clutch situations does not appear to be a repeatable skill. In other words, his performance this year has been a fluke. A useful fluke, but still a fluke.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
What Did I Miss?
So, I just got back from Cancun a few hours ago...did I miss anything?
Aw, *&%$@!.
And $%&*#.
Also, &^*%@.
I got home from the airport in time for the seventh inning, which enabled me to witness the Royals being no-hit for the first time in my lifetime. I had long taken it as a point of pride that the Royals had only been on the losing end of a no-hitter once, and that pitcher - Nolan Ryan - would prove to be the most likely pitcher to ever throw a no-no, given that he'd go on to throw six more.
For all the indignities I have suffered as a Royals fan, this was one I - and any Royals fan under the age of about 40 - had managed to avoid. There were some close calls, certainly. Just last year Mike Sweeney (in his first at-bat in three months) singled in the ninth to end Scott Baker's bid, just after John Buck had walked to end the perfect game. Luis Alicea ended Todd Ritchie's bid for a no-hitter in the ninth back in 2001, for which I've long been grateful. And of course there was Greg Gagne's notorious infield hit in 1994 on which the umpire made a questionable call, denying Bobby Witt the perfect game.
Thirty-five years is a long time for any team to go without being no-hit. It was, in fact, one of the longest streaks of any active team. The Yankees haven't been no-hit since Hoyt Wilhelm shackled them 50 years ago this September, but only because a few years ago the rules committee disallowed no-hitters of less than nine innings, taking away Melido Perez's six-inning, rain-shortened effort in 1990. A Yankee conspiracy, no doubt.
I had a feeling tonight would be different, if only because we were playing the Red Sox, who may not be the New York Yankees, but are certainly the New Yankees - they (and their fans) act as if good outcomes are their birthright, and what makes them even more insufferable is that they back up their bravado every time. The game was at Fenway Park, which is as big a home-field advantage as anywhere in baseball. They had already gotten the requisite defensive gem - that was a hell of a catch by Jacoby Ellsbury, who's not even the best centerfielder on the team (he moved to left in the 9th to make way for Coco Crisp.) And most importantly, Jon Lester was dealing.
If the streak must end, I'm glad it ended at the hands of someone who has been through as much adversity as Jon Lester. Will Carroll, himself a cancer survivor, has admitted to breaking down in tears after the final out. The uncomfortable visual image of a crying Will Carroll notwithstanding, if a no-hitter can bring that much joy to the hearts of so many people, I'm happy to oblige.
Anyway, I much prefer the symbolic embarrassment of a no-hitter to the very real and tangible embarrassment of finishing in last place year after year. The Royals are still 20-22, they're still just 2.5 games out of first place. This one might hurt more than a 6-4 affair, but they all count the same in the standings. In 2004, the Braves were on the receiving end of a perfect game from Randy Johnson; they still won their division. The year before the Giants won 100 games and the division even though they were no-hit by Kevin Millwood along the way. The 1999 Diamondbacks also won 100 games, but were skunked by Jose Jimenez. In 1997, the only two teams that were no-hit that year, the Giants (Kevin Brown) and the Astros (Francisco Cordova), both finished in first place.
Of the previous 16 teams that were no-hit, five went on to make the playoffs. If we win 70 more games this year and sneak away with the AL Central, will anyone care if we get no-hit the other 50 times? So let's start a new streak tomorrow. Let the Red Sox celebrate tonight - we're still just a win away from tying this series up.
In the meantime, Dayton: your offensive crisis just hit Defcon 2. If only there was a Hall of Fame-caliber hitter just sitting around, waiting to be signed, that we could just drop into the DH spot...
Aw, *&%$@!.
And $%&*#.
Also, &^*%@.
I got home from the airport in time for the seventh inning, which enabled me to witness the Royals being no-hit for the first time in my lifetime. I had long taken it as a point of pride that the Royals had only been on the losing end of a no-hitter once, and that pitcher - Nolan Ryan - would prove to be the most likely pitcher to ever throw a no-no, given that he'd go on to throw six more.
For all the indignities I have suffered as a Royals fan, this was one I - and any Royals fan under the age of about 40 - had managed to avoid. There were some close calls, certainly. Just last year Mike Sweeney (in his first at-bat in three months) singled in the ninth to end Scott Baker's bid, just after John Buck had walked to end the perfect game. Luis Alicea ended Todd Ritchie's bid for a no-hitter in the ninth back in 2001, for which I've long been grateful. And of course there was Greg Gagne's notorious infield hit in 1994 on which the umpire made a questionable call, denying Bobby Witt the perfect game.
Thirty-five years is a long time for any team to go without being no-hit. It was, in fact, one of the longest streaks of any active team. The Yankees haven't been no-hit since Hoyt Wilhelm shackled them 50 years ago this September, but only because a few years ago the rules committee disallowed no-hitters of less than nine innings, taking away Melido Perez's six-inning, rain-shortened effort in 1990. A Yankee conspiracy, no doubt.
I had a feeling tonight would be different, if only because we were playing the Red Sox, who may not be the New York Yankees, but are certainly the New Yankees - they (and their fans) act as if good outcomes are their birthright, and what makes them even more insufferable is that they back up their bravado every time. The game was at Fenway Park, which is as big a home-field advantage as anywhere in baseball. They had already gotten the requisite defensive gem - that was a hell of a catch by Jacoby Ellsbury, who's not even the best centerfielder on the team (he moved to left in the 9th to make way for Coco Crisp.) And most importantly, Jon Lester was dealing.
If the streak must end, I'm glad it ended at the hands of someone who has been through as much adversity as Jon Lester. Will Carroll, himself a cancer survivor, has admitted to breaking down in tears after the final out. The uncomfortable visual image of a crying Will Carroll notwithstanding, if a no-hitter can bring that much joy to the hearts of so many people, I'm happy to oblige.
Anyway, I much prefer the symbolic embarrassment of a no-hitter to the very real and tangible embarrassment of finishing in last place year after year. The Royals are still 20-22, they're still just 2.5 games out of first place. This one might hurt more than a 6-4 affair, but they all count the same in the standings. In 2004, the Braves were on the receiving end of a perfect game from Randy Johnson; they still won their division. The year before the Giants won 100 games and the division even though they were no-hit by Kevin Millwood along the way. The 1999 Diamondbacks also won 100 games, but were skunked by Jose Jimenez. In 1997, the only two teams that were no-hit that year, the Giants (Kevin Brown) and the Astros (Francisco Cordova), both finished in first place.
Of the previous 16 teams that were no-hit, five went on to make the playoffs. If we win 70 more games this year and sneak away with the AL Central, will anyone care if we get no-hit the other 50 times? So let's start a new streak tomorrow. Let the Red Sox celebrate tonight - we're still just a win away from tying this series up.
In the meantime, Dayton: your offensive crisis just hit Defcon 2. If only there was a Hall of Fame-caliber hitter just sitting around, waiting to be signed, that we could just drop into the DH spot...
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Keep 'em Coming...
The headline was supposed to refer to all the nicknames you guys are throwing out - some gems in there. It could also refer to the Royals, who are once again proving that if they can just score 3 or 4 runs consistently, they're going to be in every game. Is mid-May too early for scoreboard watching? Because right now the Indians are the only truly imposing barrier blocking the Royals from realistic postseason hopes. If you told me right now that the Indians would win no more than 85 games, I'd say we have a shot at winning this division. The way the Tribe is pitching, though, they could blow this division apart pretty soon. But hey, their starter gave up a run (unearned) today. So that's something.
Once my schedule frees up in a week or two we'll talk in more detail about how realistic the Royals' chances are. In the meantime, here are my thoughts on all the suggested nicknames so far...
- First off, I want to address the concerns of those who feel this entire enterprise is inappropriate. As one anonymous poster said, "I must object to this entire post. The entire point behind nicknames, and the reason that they really great ones ARE great and therefore stick, is that they are given through spontaneous bouts of creativity, usually related to a humorous, impressive, or embarassing trait of the nicknamee."
My response to this is that, actually, most of the famous nicknames in baseball history were in fact penned by sportswriters, and were almost certainly not thought of spontaneously, but rather were premeditated acts of penmanship. I highly doubt one of Mickey Mantle's coaches looked at him one day and said, "you know what - this guy's the Commerce Comet!" One of Johnny Martin's teammates may have called him Pepper, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the guy who first called him "The Wild Horse of the Osage" was sitting in front of a typewriter at the time.
The media has always been involved in coining nicknames for players. It just so happens that in today's game, the media has largely abdicated that responsibility. There's nothing wrong with that, but just as blogs are replacing the traditional media's role in other ways, I see no reason why blogs can't take on the duty of both inventing nicknames and disseminating them to a wider audience.
- To "TheBobHamelin": I will gladly concede that you created the term "Hispanic Panic" to refer to Messrs. Soria, Nunez, and Ramirez first - a fact I was not aware of until after I made the same connection. In return I hope you will gladly concede that it is in fact possible for two people to have come up with the same nickname, independently of each other, without any need to suggest plagiarism or other foul play. Thanks. As I've said before, I'm not entirely comfortable with the nickname, so I may just avoid using it in the future.
- We'll be putting a number of potential nicknames up for a vote next week, I hope - I'll have more details on that later. But one nickname is so perfect that I am invoking executive privilege right here and now: our top two starters will henceforth be known, when referred to in tandem, as Greinke and the Brain. Many kudos to whoever came up with that one - I never watched the show and I still think it's brilliant. May they succeed in taking over the World...Series.
- Lots of calls for Doc Bannister, lots of calls for The Professor. Both of them are good but obvious. Doc, The Professor, The Brain...we'll put this up for a vote.
- A pretty strong consensus for calling Gordon "Splash", and an equally strong consensus that he hasn't earned it yet. Need a few other contenders here, or we'll just call this one over.
- I have a personal preference to avoid nicknames derived from the player's real name if at all possible, but that's not a hard and fast rule. A lot of you like "The Gobstopper" for Jimmy Gobble. I'm always up for a Willy Wonka reference. Maybe we can just call him "Everlasting" - an ironic reference to the fact that he's usually out there to face a single hitter.
- So many choices for Soria, but none of them strike me as being able to do his brand of dominance justice. I'm not sure any nickname can do him justice at this point - he looks like he's ready for a higher league. The way he closed out the game on Wednesday night...how do you say "The Eviscerator" in Spanish? I think Marcus Thames saw a PTSD counselor after the game.
El Matador ("The Killing One", Babelfish tells me) is not bad. 'Sover? So Long Soria? Don't want to jinx the guy. Captain Jack isn't bad. Joakim The Dream is - not a big fan of the rhyming names.
Someone suggested "The Wolf" from Pulp Fiction, which I think is great. But wasn't Harvey Keitel's character known as "The Cleaner"? Maybe just Wolf will do. This just in: "The Hispanic Abe Lincoln" - or HAL for short - is a late entry, worthy of your consideration.
- There's NO consensus for Billy Butler. Billy Baroo...Beav...Bat Man...Big Bang...B-Squared...Bubba...everybody's got the same idea, but different execution. Apparently Teahen calls him Bill the Thrill, and I'd be fine with that - the players should get priority on nicknames - except Will Clark was Will the Thrill, and I'm not a fan of recycling nicknames. The perfect nickname should incorporate his undeniable hitting skills as well as his heft and lack of dexterity when engaged in any activity that does not involve a bat in his hands. The dude's a big ogre, basically. Shrek, anyone? (Yes, I'm a sucker for the animated films.)
- Some very good suggestions for Gathright. I still like Dash, in large part because he can bat ahead of Gordon and we'd have "Splash and Dash." But Hops and High Jump are both very good. (I don't care what the people in Louisiana call him, I'm not calling him Honey Bun.) We'll put this to a vote.
- I like Mr. Incredible a lot for John Buck. Although this would make him Gathright's father. The apple fell pretty far from the tree, I guess. Maybe Elastigirl had a fling with Frozone...
- Very few suggestions of any stripe for Guillen. Tick Tock's the best I've seen so far, but I'd like to see better.
- Sliver is not bad for Leo Nunez, but I like Razor better. It's a reference to his build and his impressive body of work at the same time.
- I really like the suggestion of "Topspin" for Teahen. The alliteration is nice, and it's a quirky nickname which is actually kind of a dig - maybe it will remind him that, once upon a time, he was a capable of hitting for power. "Gordon takes a lead off second base...and Topspin lines a fastball the other way for a hit!" That sounds pretty cool. Thoughts? Slapshot might also work because he's such a cut-up.
- Some good names for Greinke, but they all reference his psychological issues in one way or another. The Baseball Jonah awaits a real challenger. Although "Chipotle" was pretty funny.
- The only name I've seen for Meche is "The Mechete." If that's the best we've got, I'm fine with "The Epic."
- Someone called Grudzielanek "Stubble". That's what I'm talking about - short, simple, evocative.
- Come on, guys. Hooch? It's not even the right pronunciation. Dumbo would be okay if it were newspaper-friendly. Cool Hand is still the leader in the clubhouse here. (And it looks like I'll have to add it to my Netflix queue. Given how rarely I have time to see movies, I'll probably get to it in 2013.)
- Does Tony Pena even deserve a nickname? If he does, I like Toothpick - refers to his build and the effective size of his bat. Toothpick Tony is hitting .182 - see, that works already.
- None of the DeJesus suggestions have overwhelmed me so far. With a name like that we should be able to come up with something, right?
- "Shake" Yabuta is so stupid that it's actually kind of funny.
Again, keep in mind that we're not going to pin a nickname on every player, nor should we expect to. If I don't think any of the suggested nicknames for a player are absolutely top-notch, then we'll simply pass over that guy.
Alright everyone, I should be back early next week and we'll try to get some polls up. In the meantime, keep the nicknames - and wins - coming.
Once my schedule frees up in a week or two we'll talk in more detail about how realistic the Royals' chances are. In the meantime, here are my thoughts on all the suggested nicknames so far...
- First off, I want to address the concerns of those who feel this entire enterprise is inappropriate. As one anonymous poster said, "I must object to this entire post. The entire point behind nicknames, and the reason that they really great ones ARE great and therefore stick, is that they are given through spontaneous bouts of creativity, usually related to a humorous, impressive, or embarassing trait of the nicknamee."
My response to this is that, actually, most of the famous nicknames in baseball history were in fact penned by sportswriters, and were almost certainly not thought of spontaneously, but rather were premeditated acts of penmanship. I highly doubt one of Mickey Mantle's coaches looked at him one day and said, "you know what - this guy's the Commerce Comet!" One of Johnny Martin's teammates may have called him Pepper, but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that the guy who first called him "The Wild Horse of the Osage" was sitting in front of a typewriter at the time.
The media has always been involved in coining nicknames for players. It just so happens that in today's game, the media has largely abdicated that responsibility. There's nothing wrong with that, but just as blogs are replacing the traditional media's role in other ways, I see no reason why blogs can't take on the duty of both inventing nicknames and disseminating them to a wider audience.
- To "TheBobHamelin": I will gladly concede that you created the term "Hispanic Panic" to refer to Messrs. Soria, Nunez, and Ramirez first - a fact I was not aware of until after I made the same connection. In return I hope you will gladly concede that it is in fact possible for two people to have come up with the same nickname, independently of each other, without any need to suggest plagiarism or other foul play. Thanks. As I've said before, I'm not entirely comfortable with the nickname, so I may just avoid using it in the future.
- We'll be putting a number of potential nicknames up for a vote next week, I hope - I'll have more details on that later. But one nickname is so perfect that I am invoking executive privilege right here and now: our top two starters will henceforth be known, when referred to in tandem, as Greinke and the Brain. Many kudos to whoever came up with that one - I never watched the show and I still think it's brilliant. May they succeed in taking over the World...Series.
- Lots of calls for Doc Bannister, lots of calls for The Professor. Both of them are good but obvious. Doc, The Professor, The Brain...we'll put this up for a vote.
- A pretty strong consensus for calling Gordon "Splash", and an equally strong consensus that he hasn't earned it yet. Need a few other contenders here, or we'll just call this one over.
- I have a personal preference to avoid nicknames derived from the player's real name if at all possible, but that's not a hard and fast rule. A lot of you like "The Gobstopper" for Jimmy Gobble. I'm always up for a Willy Wonka reference. Maybe we can just call him "Everlasting" - an ironic reference to the fact that he's usually out there to face a single hitter.
- So many choices for Soria, but none of them strike me as being able to do his brand of dominance justice. I'm not sure any nickname can do him justice at this point - he looks like he's ready for a higher league. The way he closed out the game on Wednesday night...how do you say "The Eviscerator" in Spanish? I think Marcus Thames saw a PTSD counselor after the game.
El Matador ("The Killing One", Babelfish tells me) is not bad. 'Sover? So Long Soria? Don't want to jinx the guy. Captain Jack isn't bad. Joakim The Dream is - not a big fan of the rhyming names.
Someone suggested "The Wolf" from Pulp Fiction, which I think is great. But wasn't Harvey Keitel's character known as "The Cleaner"? Maybe just Wolf will do. This just in: "The Hispanic Abe Lincoln" - or HAL for short - is a late entry, worthy of your consideration.
- There's NO consensus for Billy Butler. Billy Baroo...Beav...Bat Man...Big Bang...B-Squared...Bubba...everybody's got the same idea, but different execution. Apparently Teahen calls him Bill the Thrill, and I'd be fine with that - the players should get priority on nicknames - except Will Clark was Will the Thrill, and I'm not a fan of recycling nicknames. The perfect nickname should incorporate his undeniable hitting skills as well as his heft and lack of dexterity when engaged in any activity that does not involve a bat in his hands. The dude's a big ogre, basically. Shrek, anyone? (Yes, I'm a sucker for the animated films.)
- Some very good suggestions for Gathright. I still like Dash, in large part because he can bat ahead of Gordon and we'd have "Splash and Dash." But Hops and High Jump are both very good. (I don't care what the people in Louisiana call him, I'm not calling him Honey Bun.) We'll put this to a vote.
- I like Mr. Incredible a lot for John Buck. Although this would make him Gathright's father. The apple fell pretty far from the tree, I guess. Maybe Elastigirl had a fling with Frozone...
- Very few suggestions of any stripe for Guillen. Tick Tock's the best I've seen so far, but I'd like to see better.
- Sliver is not bad for Leo Nunez, but I like Razor better. It's a reference to his build and his impressive body of work at the same time.
- I really like the suggestion of "Topspin" for Teahen. The alliteration is nice, and it's a quirky nickname which is actually kind of a dig - maybe it will remind him that, once upon a time, he was a capable of hitting for power. "Gordon takes a lead off second base...and Topspin lines a fastball the other way for a hit!" That sounds pretty cool. Thoughts? Slapshot might also work because he's such a cut-up.
- Some good names for Greinke, but they all reference his psychological issues in one way or another. The Baseball Jonah awaits a real challenger. Although "Chipotle" was pretty funny.
- The only name I've seen for Meche is "The Mechete." If that's the best we've got, I'm fine with "The Epic."
- Someone called Grudzielanek "Stubble". That's what I'm talking about - short, simple, evocative.
- Come on, guys. Hooch? It's not even the right pronunciation. Dumbo would be okay if it were newspaper-friendly. Cool Hand is still the leader in the clubhouse here. (And it looks like I'll have to add it to my Netflix queue. Given how rarely I have time to see movies, I'll probably get to it in 2013.)
- Does Tony Pena even deserve a nickname? If he does, I like Toothpick - refers to his build and the effective size of his bat. Toothpick Tony is hitting .182 - see, that works already.
- None of the DeJesus suggestions have overwhelmed me so far. With a name like that we should be able to come up with something, right?
- "Shake" Yabuta is so stupid that it's actually kind of funny.
Again, keep in mind that we're not going to pin a nickname on every player, nor should we expect to. If I don't think any of the suggested nicknames for a player are absolutely top-notch, then we'll simply pass over that guy.
Alright everyone, I should be back early next week and we'll try to get some polls up. In the meantime, keep the nicknames - and wins - coming.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Nicknames.
The blog is going to be a little slow over the next week or two, partly because I'll be out of town for a few days, but mostly because I'm devoting my writing time to another project these days. Don't fret - I'm still writing about the Royals. I'm just writing about them for our special Baseball Prospectus project that's slated to come out next spring. I don't want to give away too many details just yet, but suffice it to say that instead of writing about Greinke and Gordon, I'm writing about Saberhagen and Brett...and UL Washington and Pat Sheridan too. Writing about good Royals teams - this is a new experience for me. I'll try to adjust.
In the meantime, I wanted to launch an idea I've had since I started the blog three months ago. Call it the Nickname Project. While the experience of being a baseball fan is, in so many ways, the best it's ever been, one of the small things we've lost over the years are the evocative nicknames for players of generations past. Gone are the days of King Kong Keller and The Barber and The Mad Hungarian, to say nothing of Death to Flying Things or the nicknames that stuck to their player so strongly that most fans didn't even know what their real name was, like Cy Young or Dizzy Dean or, of course, Babe Ruth.
Today, few players have nicknames that uniquely identify them, and of those who do, most of them were either created by Hawk Harrelson (i.e. they're really dumb) or they are simply a diminutive of their real name. If I ever get a Hall of Fame ballot, I'm tempted not to vote for Alex Rodriguez in his first year of eligibility simply because "A-Rod" unleashed an avalanche of "first letter-first syllable" nicknames on the sport. One of Justin Upton's teammates recently referred to him as "J-Up". Upton is the most exciting young player to hit the sport in years - is that the best you can do? Please.
The dearth of good nicknames is, I think, a casualty of the fact that baseball reporting has become so splintered since the advent of cable TV, regional sports networks, and of course the internet. Many of the nicknames of years past were penned by sportswriters, who had such a monopoly on reporting about the game that someone like Red Smith could single-handedly anoint any player he felt worthy of a nickname. No one has such power today.
Baseball-reference.com lists Babe Ruth with two nicknames, in addition to "Babe", and there were probably a dozen other names that were used in Babe's era that fans understood referred to him. Ted Williams has four nicknames: The Kid, Teddy Ballgame, The Thumper, and The Splendid Splinter. Barry Bonds, who has towered over the game like a colossus for the past two decades, has no nickname.
I can't help Barry Bonds, but I can do my part to help our Kansas City Royals. I did so for the first time a few years ago, when I walked into the visitor's clubhouse at U.S. Cellular after the Royals had lost another one-run game. The reporters quickly gravitated to Andy Sisco, who in the midst of a promising rookie season had lost the game in the eighth on a couple of cheap hits.
I knew Sisco was 6'10", the tallest pitcher in team history, but no number can prepare you for the sight of this enormous man-child, with the build of a defensive lineman (a 6'10" defensive lineman), standing a full head taller than any of the reporters in the room. He had this timid, deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes even as he answered questions as politely as possible, and it called to mind Lefty Gomez's famous line about the hulking Jimmie Foxx, "He wasn't scouted. He was trapped." (Foxx, whose nickname was "Beast", is listed at 6' even and 195 pounds. Mark Teahen is 6'3", 210. They sure don't make 'em like they used to. They make 'em a lot bigger.)
And suddenly it came to me. "Sisco? This guy should be called Sisquatch."
Now, as nicknames go Sisquatch didn't exactly catch on like wildfire, probably because Sisco himself has let his career go in reverse pretty much from that exact moment on. But a number of people - okay, a number of my fellow BP authors - started using the name, which was a small moral victory for me.
But I can come up with all the nicknames in the world and it won't matter if I'm the only one using them. The Epic (Gil Meche) and The Baseball Jonah (Zack Greinke) have yet to set the blogosphere aflame, though I remain optimistic. But today I am here to ask you, the gentle RotR reader, to suggest nicknames for your favorite (and even not-so-favorite) Royals. Here are the rules:
1) Be nice. We're looking for nicknames that can appear in your family newspaper - more precisely, nicknames that will appear in the Star at some point. So no fair calling Greinke "ProZack." You know who you are.
2) Try to avoid puns on a player's name, unless they're really, really good. Nicknames should tell you something about the player, not just rehash his name. Sisquatch works (well, I think it works) because it evokes Sisco's physical dimensions; it just happens to resemble his name.
A few months ago, reader Breck suggested that we call our third baseman "Splash" Gordon, which I like, because it mocks the typical "Flash" Gordon name and says something unique about Gordon. Plus, it's a name that only works in Kansas City and a few other parks that have water beyond the outfield fence. But otherwise, try to avoid using their real name. If anyone suggests calling Butler "B-But" again I will have you banned from the internet, so help me God.
3) Give feedback. The point here is to come up with nicknames that we all agree on, so we'll all use them, in the hopes that eventually the names will spread into the vernacular of the casual Royals fan. So feel free to comment on other people's suggestions. I'm hoping to engage my fellow Royals bloggers out there to take part as well.
If we can pin a nickname on every player on the roster, wonderful. But if we can just come up with five good, solid, catch nicknames, that's fine too. Quality over quantity. Fire away.
Here are some suggestions to get you started:
Gil Meche: Gilgameche is both too obvious and name-derived, which is why I call him The Epic. Plus, it refers to his contract, the biggest one the Royals have ever given to an outside free agent. Do you like? Not like?
Zack Greinke: The Baseball Jonah. Read here for details. Do you like? Not like?
Brian Bannister: How about Rodin?
Joakim Soria: Bob Dutton called him Captain Zero today, which isn't bad, except his ERA will
eventually be a positive number.
Luke Hochevar: Cool Hand Luke is all I've got. I've never seen the movie, though I remember an episode of "Cheers" when Dr. Frasier Crane referred to it as the "sweatiest movie of all-time." That sounds pretty manly. I think.
Leo Nunez: "The Blade" is taken, but something that refers to his slightness of build ought to work.
Joel Peralta: Victorinox? He's the swiss army knife of the Royals' staff - he can mop up, he can be used as a righty specialist, he can even close in a pinch.
Billy Butler: Last summer I wrote a piece comparing Royals players to Harry Potter characters, and no comparison was more obvious than calling Butler "Hagrid." Are we cool with this, or would the joke be lost on the 0.3% of the population that hasn't read the books?
Joey Gathright: Dash. "The Incredibles" is, for me, the best of the Pixar movies.
And then there are nicknames we can pin on groups of players. I referred to the collection of Soria, Nunez, and Ramirez as "The Hispanic Panic," although that might be construed as offensive. Better ideas, anyone? The 1927 Yankees lineup was Murderer's Row; the 2008 Royals lineup is...Shoplifter's Row? Jaywalker's Row? Double-Parker's Row?
Alright, that's just off the top of my head - if I think of more, I'll add them in the comments section. Just like everyone else.
So send in your suggestions, and hopefully I'll come up with a way for everyone to vote on their favorites at some point.
In the meantime, I wanted to launch an idea I've had since I started the blog three months ago. Call it the Nickname Project. While the experience of being a baseball fan is, in so many ways, the best it's ever been, one of the small things we've lost over the years are the evocative nicknames for players of generations past. Gone are the days of King Kong Keller and The Barber and The Mad Hungarian, to say nothing of Death to Flying Things or the nicknames that stuck to their player so strongly that most fans didn't even know what their real name was, like Cy Young or Dizzy Dean or, of course, Babe Ruth.
Today, few players have nicknames that uniquely identify them, and of those who do, most of them were either created by Hawk Harrelson (i.e. they're really dumb) or they are simply a diminutive of their real name. If I ever get a Hall of Fame ballot, I'm tempted not to vote for Alex Rodriguez in his first year of eligibility simply because "A-Rod" unleashed an avalanche of "first letter-first syllable" nicknames on the sport. One of Justin Upton's teammates recently referred to him as "J-Up". Upton is the most exciting young player to hit the sport in years - is that the best you can do? Please.
The dearth of good nicknames is, I think, a casualty of the fact that baseball reporting has become so splintered since the advent of cable TV, regional sports networks, and of course the internet. Many of the nicknames of years past were penned by sportswriters, who had such a monopoly on reporting about the game that someone like Red Smith could single-handedly anoint any player he felt worthy of a nickname. No one has such power today.
Baseball-reference.com lists Babe Ruth with two nicknames, in addition to "Babe", and there were probably a dozen other names that were used in Babe's era that fans understood referred to him. Ted Williams has four nicknames: The Kid, Teddy Ballgame, The Thumper, and The Splendid Splinter. Barry Bonds, who has towered over the game like a colossus for the past two decades, has no nickname.
I can't help Barry Bonds, but I can do my part to help our Kansas City Royals. I did so for the first time a few years ago, when I walked into the visitor's clubhouse at U.S. Cellular after the Royals had lost another one-run game. The reporters quickly gravitated to Andy Sisco, who in the midst of a promising rookie season had lost the game in the eighth on a couple of cheap hits.
I knew Sisco was 6'10", the tallest pitcher in team history, but no number can prepare you for the sight of this enormous man-child, with the build of a defensive lineman (a 6'10" defensive lineman), standing a full head taller than any of the reporters in the room. He had this timid, deer-in-the-headlights look in his eyes even as he answered questions as politely as possible, and it called to mind Lefty Gomez's famous line about the hulking Jimmie Foxx, "He wasn't scouted. He was trapped." (Foxx, whose nickname was "Beast", is listed at 6' even and 195 pounds. Mark Teahen is 6'3", 210. They sure don't make 'em like they used to. They make 'em a lot bigger.)
And suddenly it came to me. "Sisco? This guy should be called Sisquatch."
Now, as nicknames go Sisquatch didn't exactly catch on like wildfire, probably because Sisco himself has let his career go in reverse pretty much from that exact moment on. But a number of people - okay, a number of my fellow BP authors - started using the name, which was a small moral victory for me.
But I can come up with all the nicknames in the world and it won't matter if I'm the only one using them. The Epic (Gil Meche) and The Baseball Jonah (Zack Greinke) have yet to set the blogosphere aflame, though I remain optimistic. But today I am here to ask you, the gentle RotR reader, to suggest nicknames for your favorite (and even not-so-favorite) Royals. Here are the rules:
1) Be nice. We're looking for nicknames that can appear in your family newspaper - more precisely, nicknames that will appear in the Star at some point. So no fair calling Greinke "ProZack." You know who you are.
2) Try to avoid puns on a player's name, unless they're really, really good. Nicknames should tell you something about the player, not just rehash his name. Sisquatch works (well, I think it works) because it evokes Sisco's physical dimensions; it just happens to resemble his name.
A few months ago, reader Breck suggested that we call our third baseman "Splash" Gordon, which I like, because it mocks the typical "Flash" Gordon name and says something unique about Gordon. Plus, it's a name that only works in Kansas City and a few other parks that have water beyond the outfield fence. But otherwise, try to avoid using their real name. If anyone suggests calling Butler "B-But" again I will have you banned from the internet, so help me God.
3) Give feedback. The point here is to come up with nicknames that we all agree on, so we'll all use them, in the hopes that eventually the names will spread into the vernacular of the casual Royals fan. So feel free to comment on other people's suggestions. I'm hoping to engage my fellow Royals bloggers out there to take part as well.
If we can pin a nickname on every player on the roster, wonderful. But if we can just come up with five good, solid, catch nicknames, that's fine too. Quality over quantity. Fire away.
Here are some suggestions to get you started:
Gil Meche: Gilgameche is both too obvious and name-derived, which is why I call him The Epic. Plus, it refers to his contract, the biggest one the Royals have ever given to an outside free agent. Do you like? Not like?
Zack Greinke: The Baseball Jonah. Read here for details. Do you like? Not like?
Brian Bannister: How about Rodin?
Joakim Soria: Bob Dutton called him Captain Zero today, which isn't bad, except his ERA will
eventually be a positive number.
Luke Hochevar: Cool Hand Luke is all I've got. I've never seen the movie, though I remember an episode of "Cheers" when Dr. Frasier Crane referred to it as the "sweatiest movie of all-time." That sounds pretty manly. I think.
Leo Nunez: "The Blade" is taken, but something that refers to his slightness of build ought to work.
Joel Peralta: Victorinox? He's the swiss army knife of the Royals' staff - he can mop up, he can be used as a righty specialist, he can even close in a pinch.
Billy Butler: Last summer I wrote a piece comparing Royals players to Harry Potter characters, and no comparison was more obvious than calling Butler "Hagrid." Are we cool with this, or would the joke be lost on the 0.3% of the population that hasn't read the books?
Joey Gathright: Dash. "The Incredibles" is, for me, the best of the Pixar movies.
And then there are nicknames we can pin on groups of players. I referred to the collection of Soria, Nunez, and Ramirez as "The Hispanic Panic," although that might be construed as offensive. Better ideas, anyone? The 1927 Yankees lineup was Murderer's Row; the 2008 Royals lineup is...Shoplifter's Row? Jaywalker's Row? Double-Parker's Row?
Alright, that's just off the top of my head - if I think of more, I'll add them in the comments section. Just like everyone else.
So send in your suggestions, and hopefully I'll come up with a way for everyone to vote on their favorites at some point.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Bannister in the Daytime.
Posnanski wrote his usual wrap-up of Bannister's start yesterday, and updated his log to point out this rather unusual split in Banny's performance:
Those are pretty dramatic splits, certainly. But I think it's dangerous to read too much into them. Yes, this year Bannister has been much, much, MUCH better in the daytime than under the lights. But you can't say it's not a fluke simply because his career numbers also reveal a split - because those career numbers include this season.
For his career, Bannister has a 4.58 ERA at night, a 2.65 ERA during the day. But if you strip out 2008, his ERA at night is 4.07; during the day it's 3.64. A difference, but a small difference. And it's a difference which overstates the mark, if anything. Here are Bannister's career totals at night and during the day, prior to 2008:
Night: 143.2 IP, 135 H, 47 BB, 78 K, 15 HR
Day: 59.1 IP, 55 H, 16 BB, 20 K, 4 HR
His hits per nine innings during the day (8.34) is a fraction better than his ratio at night (8.46). His strikeout-to-walk ratio is significantly better at night than during the day. His BABIP - this is approximate - is .256 during the day, .266 at night.
Prior to 2008, there was no conclusive evidence to speak of that Bannister was a better pitcher during the day than at night. Do eight starts change that perception? If his start in Arlington, with 30 mph winds gusting to right field, when Bannister said he felt like he was pitching on the moon, had happened to occur in the day, how much would that skew these numbers?
I do think that Bannister is probably a little more effective during the day, in part because Bill James ran a study about 20 years ago - I think it was the 1987 or 1988 Abstract - which showed that power pitchers appear to be signficantly more effective at night. Bannister is basically the opposite of a power pitcher, so it would stand to reason that he might be more effective during the day.
But I don't think the difference is great enough to influence how the Royals use him. For one thing, he's not the only Royals' starter to pitch better during the day. Gil Meche, in a career of over 1000 innings, has a daytime ERA (3.78) more than a point lower than his nighttime ERA (4.84). Now that is significant. I suspect that most pitchers pitch better during the day, because day games tend to be clustered in the colder months of the season, and colder weather tends to lower offense. (Just a theory I have. Which means I'm probably wrong.)
If the Royals have a doubleheader and choose to start Bannister in the day game and someone like Greinke (whose ERA is 15 points under the lights) in the nightcap, great. But let's not go overboard with moving starters around to take advantage of an effect that might not actually exist.
Wow, as someone who claims to be one of the nation’s leading Brian Bannister scholars, I am embarrassed to say I missed this. But I did. It is brilliant reader PC who points this out:
Brian Bannister by day (this year):
– 4-0, 0.62 ERA, 29 ip, 12 hits, 3 runs, 2 earned runs, 0 homers, 7 walks, 18 K.
Batting average against: .126; OPS: .320; OPS+ -10(!)*, Babip: .156.
Brian Bannister by night (this year):
– 0-4, 8.02 ERA, 21 1/2 ip, 33 hits, 19 runs, 19 earned, 5 homers, 5 walks, 11 K,
Batting average against: .344; OPS .960; OPS+ 158(!), Babip: .350.
Brian Bannister by day (career)
– 10-1, 2.65 ERA, 88 1/3 ip, 67 hits, 28 runs, 26 er, 4 homers, 23 walks, 38 Ks.
Batting average against: .212; OPS: .576; Babip .226.
Brian Bannister by night (career)
– 8-13, 4.58 ERA, 165 ip; 168 hits, 88 runs, 84 er, 20 homers, 55 walks, 87 Ks.
Batting average against: .261; OPS .763; Babip: .275.
Those are pretty dramatic splits, certainly. But I think it's dangerous to read too much into them. Yes, this year Bannister has been much, much, MUCH better in the daytime than under the lights. But you can't say it's not a fluke simply because his career numbers also reveal a split - because those career numbers include this season.
For his career, Bannister has a 4.58 ERA at night, a 2.65 ERA during the day. But if you strip out 2008, his ERA at night is 4.07; during the day it's 3.64. A difference, but a small difference. And it's a difference which overstates the mark, if anything. Here are Bannister's career totals at night and during the day, prior to 2008:
Night: 143.2 IP, 135 H, 47 BB, 78 K, 15 HR
Day: 59.1 IP, 55 H, 16 BB, 20 K, 4 HR
His hits per nine innings during the day (8.34) is a fraction better than his ratio at night (8.46). His strikeout-to-walk ratio is significantly better at night than during the day. His BABIP - this is approximate - is .256 during the day, .266 at night.
Prior to 2008, there was no conclusive evidence to speak of that Bannister was a better pitcher during the day than at night. Do eight starts change that perception? If his start in Arlington, with 30 mph winds gusting to right field, when Bannister said he felt like he was pitching on the moon, had happened to occur in the day, how much would that skew these numbers?
I do think that Bannister is probably a little more effective during the day, in part because Bill James ran a study about 20 years ago - I think it was the 1987 or 1988 Abstract - which showed that power pitchers appear to be signficantly more effective at night. Bannister is basically the opposite of a power pitcher, so it would stand to reason that he might be more effective during the day.
But I don't think the difference is great enough to influence how the Royals use him. For one thing, he's not the only Royals' starter to pitch better during the day. Gil Meche, in a career of over 1000 innings, has a daytime ERA (3.78) more than a point lower than his nighttime ERA (4.84). Now that is significant. I suspect that most pitchers pitch better during the day, because day games tend to be clustered in the colder months of the season, and colder weather tends to lower offense. (Just a theory I have. Which means I'm probably wrong.)
If the Royals have a doubleheader and choose to start Bannister in the day game and someone like Greinke (whose ERA is 15 points under the lights) in the nightcap, great. But let's not go overboard with moving starters around to take advantage of an effect that might not actually exist.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
The Intentional Walk.
Joe Posnanski wrote a typically great post about Trey Hillman's bizarre decision to intentionally walk Nick Markakis last night in favor of Aubrey Huff, which got me thinking about when the strategy should be employed. I think the intentional walk is over-utilized by some managers, but there certainly is a time and a place for it - for instance, when Casey Kotchman bats with a man on third and one out in a scoreless game in the ninth inning, as happened the other night.
As I see it, there are three primary advantages to the intentional walk:
1) To gain the platoon advantage;
2) To set up the double play;
3) To bypass a specific hitter in favor of a significantly inferior one.
Of the three, #3 is certainly the most important, but really, if you want to order an intentional walk at least two of the three conditions should be in effect, and ideally all three.
For instance, when Gil Meche intentionally walked Justin Morneau on April 11th, the game was tied, a man was on third base with one out, and Delmon Young was at the plate. Walking Morneau gained the platoon advantage and set up the double play. You could argue whether Delmon Young is "significantly" inferior to Morneau with the bat - certainly Young has tremendous potential, but he hit .288/.316/.408 last season, and he's doing worse this year.
He also hit into 23 double plays last season, which doesn't hurt. And after Morneau was walked, Young did just that to end the inning.
The amazing thing about Hillman's decision to walk Markakis last night is that the situation didn't meet any of the three criteria above.
Markakis, while an outstanding young hitter, isn't significantly better with the bat than Aubrey Huff. Last year Markakis hit .300/.362/.485, while Huff hit .280/.337/.442. This year, Markakis is at .279/.404/.473 to Huff's .271/.340/.474. Markakis is better, but not that much better.
Both Markakis and Huff bat left-handed.
There were two outs.
With two outs the only time you should consider an intentional walk is when 1) the pitcher or Tony Pena Jr. is up next, or 2) the batter is an extreme high-average hitter like Tony Gwynn or Ichiro Suzuki.
In the situation last night, with a man on second and two out, the only reason to walk Markakis and pitch to Huff is if you think that Markakis is much more likely to drive that runner home from second base, i.e. he has a much higher batting average in that situation. But Markakis is a good hitter because of his secondary skills, i.e. power and plate discipline, not because of his batting average. Over the last two years his average is, what, 15 points higher than Huff? And for that you put another man on base?
(Interestingly, John Gibbons' decision to walk Pena to face DeJesus met the first two criteria. But the decision went so far against the third one that it was still a dumber decision than Hillman's last night. By a factor of about a hundred.)
In addition to the three criteria above, a fourth factor is context. Namely, an intentional walk should only be used when the marginal impact of a single run being scored outweighs the marginal impact of additional runs. Even though the situation last night didn't meet any of the criteria above, you could make a case for the intentional walk if, say, the game was tied in the bottom of the ninth inning. In that case, the impact of a single run scoring is exactly the same as the impact of three runs scoring - you lose either way.
Again, the context here didn't make any sense for an intentional walk, because the game was in the fifth inning. And in the fifth inning, even in a tie game, there's no way to know how important the next run is. Sure, your offense might struggle to score the rest of the game, but they also might scratch out a few runs, as the Royals did last night. Walking Markakis to face Huff may have reduced the Orioles' chances to score at least one run in the inning, although even that is debatable. But there's no question that the walk increased the Orioles' chances to score at least two runs in the inning.
The only way pitching to Markakis leads to two runs is if he hits a homer, while Huff can drive in two runs with any extra-base hits (especially since the runners are going on contact with two outs.) Obviously, the latter is more likely than the former - Huff has averaged 62 XBH per 162 games in his career, while Markakis has averaged 22 HR per 162 games. There's also no way Marakis can drive in three runs, whereas (as we found out) there was a way for Huff to do so.
The irony is that that these are the only two walks Hillman has ordered all season, putting the Royals on pace to order 9 IBBs all year. The lowest total of IBBs in franchise history is 20, back in 1984. Based purely on quantity, it would appear that if anything, Hillman isn't using the IBB enough. There's the example of Casey Kotchman, when Hillman called on Jimmy Gobble to pitch rather than walk Kotchman and leave Ramon Ramirez in to pitch to Torii Hunter with the double play in effect, but I'm sure there are a few other situations when Hillman may have put the tactic to good effect.
But last night, he used the tactic in one of the worst possible situations, and the result illuminated his error in a very harsh light. I hope the negative feedback Hillman received won't make him even more reluctant to put up four fingers in the future. But man, I hope it makes him pick his spots a little better.
As I see it, there are three primary advantages to the intentional walk:
1) To gain the platoon advantage;
2) To set up the double play;
3) To bypass a specific hitter in favor of a significantly inferior one.
Of the three, #3 is certainly the most important, but really, if you want to order an intentional walk at least two of the three conditions should be in effect, and ideally all three.
For instance, when Gil Meche intentionally walked Justin Morneau on April 11th, the game was tied, a man was on third base with one out, and Delmon Young was at the plate. Walking Morneau gained the platoon advantage and set up the double play. You could argue whether Delmon Young is "significantly" inferior to Morneau with the bat - certainly Young has tremendous potential, but he hit .288/.316/.408 last season, and he's doing worse this year.
He also hit into 23 double plays last season, which doesn't hurt. And after Morneau was walked, Young did just that to end the inning.
The amazing thing about Hillman's decision to walk Markakis last night is that the situation didn't meet any of the three criteria above.
Markakis, while an outstanding young hitter, isn't significantly better with the bat than Aubrey Huff. Last year Markakis hit .300/.362/.485, while Huff hit .280/.337/.442. This year, Markakis is at .279/.404/.473 to Huff's .271/.340/.474. Markakis is better, but not that much better.
Both Markakis and Huff bat left-handed.
There were two outs.
With two outs the only time you should consider an intentional walk is when 1) the pitcher or Tony Pena Jr. is up next, or 2) the batter is an extreme high-average hitter like Tony Gwynn or Ichiro Suzuki.
In the situation last night, with a man on second and two out, the only reason to walk Markakis and pitch to Huff is if you think that Markakis is much more likely to drive that runner home from second base, i.e. he has a much higher batting average in that situation. But Markakis is a good hitter because of his secondary skills, i.e. power and plate discipline, not because of his batting average. Over the last two years his average is, what, 15 points higher than Huff? And for that you put another man on base?
(Interestingly, John Gibbons' decision to walk Pena to face DeJesus met the first two criteria. But the decision went so far against the third one that it was still a dumber decision than Hillman's last night. By a factor of about a hundred.)
In addition to the three criteria above, a fourth factor is context. Namely, an intentional walk should only be used when the marginal impact of a single run being scored outweighs the marginal impact of additional runs. Even though the situation last night didn't meet any of the criteria above, you could make a case for the intentional walk if, say, the game was tied in the bottom of the ninth inning. In that case, the impact of a single run scoring is exactly the same as the impact of three runs scoring - you lose either way.
Again, the context here didn't make any sense for an intentional walk, because the game was in the fifth inning. And in the fifth inning, even in a tie game, there's no way to know how important the next run is. Sure, your offense might struggle to score the rest of the game, but they also might scratch out a few runs, as the Royals did last night. Walking Markakis to face Huff may have reduced the Orioles' chances to score at least one run in the inning, although even that is debatable. But there's no question that the walk increased the Orioles' chances to score at least two runs in the inning.
The only way pitching to Markakis leads to two runs is if he hits a homer, while Huff can drive in two runs with any extra-base hits (especially since the runners are going on contact with two outs.) Obviously, the latter is more likely than the former - Huff has averaged 62 XBH per 162 games in his career, while Markakis has averaged 22 HR per 162 games. There's also no way Marakis can drive in three runs, whereas (as we found out) there was a way for Huff to do so.
The irony is that that these are the only two walks Hillman has ordered all season, putting the Royals on pace to order 9 IBBs all year. The lowest total of IBBs in franchise history is 20, back in 1984. Based purely on quantity, it would appear that if anything, Hillman isn't using the IBB enough. There's the example of Casey Kotchman, when Hillman called on Jimmy Gobble to pitch rather than walk Kotchman and leave Ramon Ramirez in to pitch to Torii Hunter with the double play in effect, but I'm sure there are a few other situations when Hillman may have put the tactic to good effect.
But last night, he used the tactic in one of the worst possible situations, and the result illuminated his error in a very harsh light. I hope the negative feedback Hillman received won't make him even more reluctant to put up four fingers in the future. But man, I hope it makes him pick his spots a little better.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Stat Nugget of the Day: 5/9/2008.
(As always, dissemination of the SNotD with attribution is welcome.)
Despite a terrific start to his season, including a 1.25 ERA in his first five starts, Zack Greinke was not dominating opposing hitters in the strikeout category; he struck out no more than six batters in any of his starts, and more than four hitters just once.
That all has changed in his last two starts. Last Thursday, The Baseball Jonah whiffed 9 Texas Rangers in seven innings, but was sunk by two solo homers and the Royals' typically impotent lineup. This Wednesday, Greinke struck out eight more hitters in seven innings of work, and walked away with the win.
Striking out eight batters or more in consecutive starts is not a big deal. Or at least it shouldn't be. But if you're a Royals fan, you know how rare this can be for the boys in blue.
In point of fact: Greinke has become the first Royals pitcher to strike out at least 8 batters in consecutive starts this century. The last Royal to turn the trick was Jay Witasick, on September 17th and 22nd, 1999.
If Greinke strikes out 8 batters his next time out, he will become just the third Royals pitcher in history to do so in three straight starts. The first was Dennis Leonard, who did so in his last three starts of the 1977 season. (He would strike out just four in game 3 of the ALCS, but beat the Yankees anyway, bless his heart. Let's not speak about game 5.)
The second was Kevin Appier, who did so three times, once in 1995, once in 1996, and once in 1997. In 1996 Appier struck out 8+ hitters in five straight starts, and started that streak with three straight starts of double-digit strikeouts, the only such streak in team history. (In fact, only two other Royals - Bret Saberhagen in 1989, and Bill "Don't Call me Billy" Butler in 1969 - have struck out 10 batters in consecutive starts.)
Despite a terrific start to his season, including a 1.25 ERA in his first five starts, Zack Greinke was not dominating opposing hitters in the strikeout category; he struck out no more than six batters in any of his starts, and more than four hitters just once.
That all has changed in his last two starts. Last Thursday, The Baseball Jonah whiffed 9 Texas Rangers in seven innings, but was sunk by two solo homers and the Royals' typically impotent lineup. This Wednesday, Greinke struck out eight more hitters in seven innings of work, and walked away with the win.
Striking out eight batters or more in consecutive starts is not a big deal. Or at least it shouldn't be. But if you're a Royals fan, you know how rare this can be for the boys in blue.
In point of fact: Greinke has become the first Royals pitcher to strike out at least 8 batters in consecutive starts this century. The last Royal to turn the trick was Jay Witasick, on September 17th and 22nd, 1999.
If Greinke strikes out 8 batters his next time out, he will become just the third Royals pitcher in history to do so in three straight starts. The first was Dennis Leonard, who did so in his last three starts of the 1977 season. (He would strike out just four in game 3 of the ALCS, but beat the Yankees anyway, bless his heart. Let's not speak about game 5.)
The second was Kevin Appier, who did so three times, once in 1995, once in 1996, and once in 1997. In 1996 Appier struck out 8+ hitters in five straight starts, and started that streak with three straight starts of double-digit strikeouts, the only such streak in team history. (In fact, only two other Royals - Bret Saberhagen in 1989, and Bill "Don't Call me Billy" Butler in 1969 - have struck out 10 batters in consecutive starts.)
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