by Gregg Pearlman
At least Rod Beck hasn't nailed down any saves against the Giants. Still, they haven't nearly enough fun in Chicago, losing two of three, pending today's result. This series follows a sweep of the Marlins in Miami, and a victory after three losses in Atlanta. The team is 19-17, and the pattern seems to be "win four, lose four."
Barry Bonds has been hitting, and so have Bill Mueller and Rich Aurilia -- but not Jeff Kent, J.T. Snow, or Brian Johnson. Still. And Snow and Johnson aren't going to be hitting anytime soon, either: Snow is away from the team indefinitely, as his mother is very ill, and Brian Johnson is on the disabled list with a hairline fracture in his right hand, courtesy of Jeff Juden.
The Giants, Dodgers, and Rockies are comfortably behind the Padres in the standing, all bunched together within about one game. (I say "about" because I haven't seen the paper yet, so I don't know how the Giants' division rivals did yesterday.) Meanwhile, it seems as though everybody is so abuzz about Kerry Wood's amazing 20-strikeout performance that the Giants went into Chicago relieved that they wouldn't have to face him -- while quite forgetting about guys like Steve Trachsel and Kevin Tapani.
The Giants split yesterday's doubleheader with the Cubs, 5-1 and 6-0. I didn't see much of it, especially the second game, as we had company. While our kids were playing and our wives were talking and watching the kids, my friend Ernest and I discussed a variety of things... and yet he's a big Giants fan also, so why weren't we watching the second game? Well, at one point my son ran out into the living room and turned on the TV -- exactly in time for us to see Kevin Orie hit a two-run homer against Shawn Estes.
"Thanks, son," I said. The Giants never got into the game at all, and I blame the kid entirely.
Well, of course, but what'd he do this time? (When the Giants are on TBS and nowhere else, the volume on the TV goes down, and KNBR comes up.)
Grant provides this gut-churning scenario:
"Skip: ... and Tucker hits a line foul down the line. Wait, Gary Darling just ruled it a home run!
"Don: And Angel Hernandez just called in and ruled the Giants will have to start the next inning with two outs, because he ruled the home run a reverse double play as well!
[Of course, the next day's Chronicle reports that a postgame scoring decision makes this a reverse triple play, meaning that when the Giants and Braves next meet, the Giants don't get to bat in their half of the first. -- GP]
"Skip: Well, the Braves just play solid baseball. The Giants deserved the reverse double play. In fact, the Braves should be winning right now, if it weren't for the 17 straight doubles in the first inning.
"Don: Mmm-hmm."
[Gregg: Hoooooooooooooogggggggggghhhh!]
"Pretty good," says Jim, "except instead of Skip saying 'Braves,' he would, of course, say, 'we.'"
I find the Braves TV crew basically unlistenable, and I've felt that way for years. I'm all for wanting your team to win and all, but really. (I mean, even Mike Krukow goes a bit too far now and again....)
"I was wondering half the time if we were watching the same game," says James R. "It's all those little inanities that get me the most: 'Hayes just went over to have a word with his pitcher....' Hayes did nothing of the sort. He picked up the rosin bag to get the moisture off his hands. And all through the game it went. My wife was threatening to strangle Don Sutton."
Just a quick bap in the back of the head would be pretty satisfying, I should think.
"Just remember how blessed we are, Giants Fans, to have the announcing team that we do."
Yup. I learn more and more from Krukow all the time, for instance. (By the way, did anybody catch a recent Ted Robinson home run call in which he basically caught himself doing Duane Kuiper's signature line, "and that ball is outta here," and sort of tried to change the call in midstream? Fairly subtle, but still pretty funny. And only a little like Ron Fairly.)
"You know, the pain of '93 is subsiding a bit," says Tim I., "and normally I think I'd start hating the Braves less as time wears on, but all I have to do is listen to five minutes of Skip Caray and I'm cured of that tendency."
Usually five minutes of Skip Caray causes me to feel extreme hostility toward Skip Caray....
"I wonder what Braves fans think of him. They may not notice it as much, but he talks to his audience referring to the Braves with such pronouns as 'we' and 'us,' as if you're obviously nonexistent or some kind of communist mutant from space if you aren't a Braves fan. It reminds me so much of Monte Moore with the A's in the 1970s."
Exactly. And that was back in the days when I was a big A's fan, too. Appalling dude. "After four innings, it's the Royals 2, the Good Guys 1." Bleah. "Hotter than a two-dollar pistol!" Bleurfgh.
Do you remember a few years ago when Bobby Thigpen nailed Terry Steinbach in the helmet, and Moore went bananas during the telecast? He was basically demanding that the A's go do a dance on Thigpen's head. One of the least professional displays I can remember.
"Other broadcasters obviously root for their teams, but they do it in a somewhat subdued manner and not constantly reminding people of the obvious bias of the broadcast," says James. Krukow comes to mind here as someone who is obviously an enthusiastic Giants fan who occasionally lets it show but doesn't constantly hit you over the head with it or pretend that everyone is a Giants fan. But Skip Caray? It was fun listening to him talk about how bad 'we' were when 'we' lost 106 games in 1988, but since they've been winning, well... [Sorry, that's "since 'we've' been winning...." -- GP]
"I think I'm gonna hurl...."
Make sure you do so into a bag and send it to Skip, C.O.D.
Regarding the false little story about Hayes, Billy says, "Well, [the Braves' announcers] have this obsession with the idea that there needs to be a veteran infielder who casually goes to the mound from time to time to give the pitcher a few words of advice, encouragement, moral support, etc."
Man. Good thing they don't announce rookie league ball.
"I think they got this from Terry Pendleton. So whenever an infielder does something like Hayes did, they assume that's what's going on and he's just pretending to use the rosin bag."
One day they'll do this, and secretly the camera crew will have miked the player -- who'll say the following to the pitcher: "I hate you. I hope you get lit up."
"I'm sure I will incur the wrath of all TBS-haters," says Dan L., "but the guy who comes on for color in late innings, I believe Pete Van Wierren, is a pretty good announcer. Sure, he has his 'Oooh, that boy sure can run' moments, but he is also relatively unbiased, and has good analysis. Or maybe it's just because he's sitting next to Skip and he sounds good compared to that crap-dispenser they call an announcer...."
("It's like walking into K-Mart and hoping the guy stocking Depends is Bill Zack, formally of the Augusta Chronicle," says Grant.)
"Sure, the rings sparkle, but the diamonds aren't real, are they?
"The same thing happens when you look at the Atlanta Braves bullpen. The best way to assess the relievers is with a Ralph Nader line: You get what you pay for.
"The discount relief corps took over for staggering starter Tom Glavine Sunday afternoon and couldn't keep it close. Eyeing their first four-game sweep of the San Francisco Giants in 38 years, the Braves saw their five-game win streak end in a 12-8 loss before 36,958 fans at Turner Field."
So the Giants did nothing. It's the Braves' relievers who are responsible for the Giants' victory. I see.
"'Tom (Glavine) got bled to death all day,' Braves manager Bobby Cox said. 'Every time they got a hit, it was a half-step away from somebody.'"
Well, he has a point. Aurilia's homer against Glavine landed in the first row or two.
"Yeah, but somebody caught it, so it's technically not true," says Billy.
Well, it was kind of a bleeder, in a home run sense....
"Glavine knew it wasn't his day when first base umpire Gary Darling blew a call that cost a run in the first inning, then Giants catcher Brad Johnson ended an 0-for-22 skid with only his second hit in his last 32 at-bats, an RBI double in the fourth," Zack tells us.
"No, not the Minnesota Vikings quarterback, the former Stanford quarterback," says Greg L.
Well, I'll tell you, that Brad Johnson is something else. Evidently he's the guy the Giants have chosen to replace Brian Johnson, our clutch-hitting catcher whose hitting has pretty much disappeared this year.
I love when reporters are so full of disdain for the opposition that they can't bother to learn the players' names.
"Darling incurred the wrath of both dugouts with two bad calls, the first on Chris Jones' grounder in the first, then he ruled Michael Tucker's foul ball a two-run homer in the eighth," says Zack.
Gary Darling seems to show up a lot in stories like this. We hear the names "Angel Hernandez" and "Greg Bonin" when there are stories about ludicrous ball-strike calls (and let's not forget Eric Gregg), and Bob Davidson in stories about ludicrous balk calls (not to mention just generally bad calls).
"Darling got into some bad business with the Dodgers in '96 over Piazza supposedly not tagging a runner out at home," says Billy. "The Dodgers had to close the clubhouse door for 30 minutes after the game to compose themselves for the media, as I recall."
I get Darling confused with Jerry Layne a lot, but I think he's the one who tried to sue Lou Piniella for defamation after Lou said that he had a vendetta against the Reds or something.
"The difference in this game was the bullpens," Zack continues. "San Francisco's relievers, the league's best with a 1.58 ERA, pitched the final four innings and with the exception of Tucker's fluke homer, gave up nothing."
"'Fluke' would be the wrong word here," says Greg, "much like 'Brad' was the wrong name up there."
In any case, we're supposed to feel sorry for Tom Glavine, as though he'd thrown a masterpiece, only to see the bullpen cough it up? Please. Not just a bit sour-grapey is Zack here. I can understand Cox saying -- almost in so many words -- that Glavine just didn't catch a lot of breaks, but Zack wants us to believe that this was a preordained Braves win, and were it not for those idiots in the bullpen....
But one thing Zack forgot about was that Dennis Martinez did great for two innings. Against the Giants. Of course.
"At any rate, all good Giants fans should be rooting for him to get released, now, immediately, before he lucks into any more wins," says Jonathan.
"[Zack's article] is just stupid," says Billy. "The Giants got seven of those runs off Glavine, but it's all the bullpen's fault."
In any case since the Braves scored eight, I guess we have to assume that with half-decent relievers, they would've won, right?
"[The next day] Kerry Ligtenberg filled in for the injured Mark Wohlers and earned a save vs. the Dodgers. The media should be fawning all over him, right? Nah, they hardly mentioned it. Had he blown it, "BRAVES BULLPEN BLOWS ANOTHER ONE" would be the headline everywhere. I swear to God, some people will not be happy without six Cy Young candidates in the bullpen."
Normally it's enough to have six Cy Young candidates in the rotation....
It's kind of like the media here with regard to the 49ers sometimes. I mean, God, they're spoiled. Ira Miller does these weekly "report card" things, and he routinely gave Joe Montana B's and C's and such -- I mean, there was no pleasing that guy. ("Montana was 27 of 34 for 347 yards, down a bit from last week's numbers against the hapless Buccaneers. Never mind that this week he was going up against the best pass defense in the NFL -- I just don't like the guy, so it's a C-. Tough darts.")
"Now here's another damned thing," Billy says. "Anytime a team wins something, the media insists it's due to good pitching (even brutal performances like Livan Hernandez last October, who 'pitched as well as he had to'). Anytime a team loses something, it's due to bad pitching. Hey, what about the other half of the game?"
I guess the counter to this argument is that certain sportswriters would now chime in with "Well, pitching, as you know, is 75/80/90 percent of baseball," or some damn thing.
"There is something you have to understand about the Atlanta media; they have it in their little bitty pea-sized heads that the Braves by God have a BAD BULLPEN and if we replaced the current lot with Troy Percival, Mariano Rivera, Trevor Hoffman, and Randy Myers, they would still be a BAD BULLPEN because the Braves have a BAD BULLPEN."
Ah. This does lend some perspective.
"Any instance where a reliever gives up a run is just further evidence that the Braves have a BAD BULLPEN because a good bullpen would have an ERA of 0.00."
Hmmm... so how many "good" bullpens have there been? In history, I mean?
"For a while I thought they were catching on that the Braves pen actually was second in the league in ERA last year and third in stranding runners, and that includes guys who got shipped out last July, but no. It only took one bad game against the Phils for the media to fly off the handle and talk some more about that BAD BULLPEN. Any reliever who has a good outing is never mentioned. Only the bad ones count, because bad outings are a sign of a BAD BULLPEN."
Again, these guys are obviously spoiled. I guess, though, that the bullpen has probably always lagged in comparison to the rotation, at least throughout the '90s. I guess I don't understand why something that is not perceived as a major strength must by definition be a major weakness.
"Let me tell you, Mark Wohlers had a bad game at Coors last month and stuff started popping up that said, 'Bullpen Woes Continue.' They are tagged, I tell you, tagged."
Well, I think I just hit on the answer: The press wants something to complain about. I mean, imagine if Barry Bonds were playing down there -- stop drooling, Billy -- and the team was, like, 30-2. You'd still see complaining, almost entirely about Bonds: Struck out in the clutch, just before Galarraga's game-winning homer; failed to hustle a single into a triple; got testy when asked a stupid question by Mr. Zack, and daring to point out that it was a stupid question, etc.
Good question. Yo! Experts!
I was hoping for, like, a mere hundred pitches, but I won't complain. (On the other hand, Richard's words proved prophetic, as Estes lost 6-0 yesterday.)
"Boy, he sure sounded (since this was, as KNBR must have mentioned at least 4,000 times during the game) to be back at last year's level, which would be a great help. Only one walk, which for Estes is a great sign."
And he was getting some outs early in the count (obviously, I guess), which was real sweet.
And Bill Mueller again homered with Estes on the mound, which briefly tied him for second place on the club.
"McGwire. Griffey. Humbug," says Tim I. "Keep putting Estes out there and Mueller will hit 100 homers."
(But guess what, folks: Bonds' eight leads the club... and in second place is Rich Aurilia, with four -- in the space of four games.)
Jonathan suggests that "we can start a three week clock on Alex Diaz, now [that the team seems to be hitting]. Even Dusty must realize he's totally extraneous now that Chris Jones is around."
That's sad in and of itself, you know. (Especially after I had the opportunity to watch Jones drop a fly ball in right field yesterday.)
I haven't really gotten much of a handle on Diaz's defense, probably because he hasn't played that much. But he seems to have made, like, half a dozen spectacular diving/tumbling catches -- most of which appear to be due in part to initially misjudging the ball.
I don't know much about Jones' defense in general, but Jonathan says, "Well, he did play some center field last year, so that's always a good sign, I suppose. If I recall correctly, Baseball Prospectus said something about him being a solid fourth outfielder, but I've always thought of him as more of a solid fifth outfielder. Which Benard would be, if he could play center."
Well, Benard has* played center.... So has Glenallen Hill, though.
"What chain of events could lead to this?" says Ken B.
That's a really good question. I'm trying to remember if such an event was preceded by the appearance of four unusual horsemen or something.
"This implies that a team is sending out two outfielders worse than Hill to man the corners. Yow. Think about what this implies: 'Brent, take off that catcher's gear and get an outfielder's glove.' Today's Kevin Mitchell. Today's Dave Kingman. Every flyball pitcher's nightmare."
At best. Know what I'm thinking, though? I mean, first, Hill played center at least once for the Giants, early in 1995. And I'm pretty sure that he played center in one of his big games for the Cubs against the Giants. So what I'm thinking is that teams either didn't quite know how bad he was, or chose not to believe their eyes. Somehow he had a good enough defensive reputation. I could almost see the Cubs saying, "Well, gee, he played center a few times in the American League, so he must be able to," and the Giants saying, "Well, remember when he played center against us? He must be able to."
Now, tell me if I'm misremembering, but I always thought Kevin Mitchell had pretty good hands, at least as an infielder. As an outfielder, his main fault wasn't the dropped fly balls (of which there were a few, to be sure), but the fact that he was so tentative. I don't even remember his being all that bad a judge of fly balls, either, so in my mind, Glenallen's so far below Mitch.
In Sports Illustrated Baseball-speak, I'm thinking that Mitchell was about an OF-1, maybe OF-2, and Hill, at best, would be an OF-3. (This is even keeping in mind Tom A., about a year ago, talking about Mike Gimbel's work that sort of maps pretty well to SI defensive ratings; Hill worked out to an unprecedentedly bad rating there.)
"This is about right," says Tom. "SI was ridiculously timid in bagging on defensive butchers. Hank Greenberg, Harmon Killebrew, and Willie McCovey were so bad in real baseball (in the outfield) that they were returned to first base even while the team sacrificed the extra bat in the lineup that forced them to the Garden. All of those guys were no worse than -2. [I didn't realize McCovey was that bad an outfielder -- I thought they moved him primarily because of his knees. -- GP]
"Barney is so bad, however, that I think they'd have the gumption to give him -3.
"Gimbel's system, while much more objectively based than SI's 'reputation' rankings, actually did map pretty well on to the SI system. In Gimbel's system, a fielder rated at -5 would cost his team five-thousandths of a run per (his own) plate appearances. (Yes, there is an assumption there that a player is not primarily a defensive substitute, DH, or pinch-hitter). If you do the dice math, an SI player rated at -5 (there are damn few; play Ed Delahanty at second base, or Riggs Stephenson, to get the gist) would also cost his team about five-thousandths of a run per plate appearance compared to a zero defensive rating player (Ted Williams, Lou Gehrig, Chico Salmon, Mike Epstein, Jack Brohamer).
"Problem was, Gimbel found that really good and really bad defenders save/cost their teams considerably more per plate appearance than the -3 to +17 range that SI players fell into. The great shortstops and center fielders came in between +20 and +40, and the butchers between -10 and -35.
"Glenallen, of course, would come in at -35 or so."
I still wonder how Gary Sheffield -- or anyone else -- could be considered to be as bad a fielder as Hill.
"The problem with the SI system is that zero is below average, not average," says Tim I.
Excellent point. At least, that's probably true more in All-Time All-Star Baseball than just plain ol' SI Baseball.
"A typical team might have a defensive rating in the 30 range, which would make the average player perhaps +3 or +4 defensively. Also, if a rating is zero or less, no matter what, it had no impact on the automatic outs (none) whether your team was -1 or -40. One time I fielded a team with a DR of something like -26, and it won the game. I remember having Cap Anson catching, Delahanty at second, Rico Carty (-2) in the outfield, etc. I wonder what someone like Dick Stuart would have been."
"Now Osvaldo Fernandez... he's a pitcher! One of the Giants' best moves ever. Just wait until he comes back from another couple of operations. He'll be pitching better than that loser Estes!"
See, this would work -- except that Ken knows he's kidding. You have to mean it, or else the Earnest Ragging/Praising will blow up in your face -- as we saw with Estes' outing yesterday.
"I'm now looking up toward the sky (well, the ceiling sort of gets in the way, but you get the picture) to see if the wool has been completely pulled over the Baseball Gods' eyes," says Jeff. "I don't know, Ken. I think you may have lost credibility with the line about Bones LeMaster being a better pitcher than Estes -- maybe a tad overboard? How about Kim Batiste in place of LeMaster?"
Perhaps the most amazing feat, though, was the early stolen base by... Orel Hershiser. What got into his head I couldn't possibly guess. Dusty's head, either. But the throw from the frighteningly great Charles Johnson wasn't even close.
"He wasn't being held on the bag by the first baseman, says Tim I. "Furthermore, [Marlins starter Brian] Meadows completely ignored him. Hershiser, realizing this, started running even as Meadows was still in the stretch. He was halfway to second by the time Meadows released the ball. Johnson didn't have a snowball's chance in hell (or a Snow's chance against lefties). Florida's pitching coach must have been irate over that one."
"I'm going to take a short break from my usual bagging on Orel (which, mercifully, I keep to myself most of the time) to say this," says Tom A.: "I thought his steal of second was pretty damn cool. The Santa Rosa Press-Democrat pretty much reported it without comment, and I said, 'Wha'?' Now that I read the details, I think it's even cooler. Very heads-up play. If the guy had been a Giant his whole career I might even like him by now.
"Although I wonder: Why didn't the Marlin's first baseman, at least, start yelling like a banshee when Hershiser took off? Meadows could have turned around and nailed him by 10 or 12 feet."
"Is that what they mean by a 'wily veteran'?" says Jeff C. "Somebody must've ended up with a healthy kangaroo court fine for that one. Of course, one could say that the Baseball Gods punished Orel for that by giving him back spasms. ('Wile E. Hershiser... Super Genius.')"
The bottom of the ninth inning, though, was one of the most tense, frustrating half-innings I'd ever seen, and we didn't even lose. Nen was all over the place, and with one out and the bases loaded, Jeff Kent got short-hopped by a weak ground ball that rolled under his glove, allowing two runs to score. With runners on first and third, Brent Mayne picked off Jim Eisenreich, who got himself into a rundown. Somehow the Giants managed to keep the runner on third from advancing, and Jeff Kent very obviously tagged Eisenreich in the chest -- I mean, we didn't even need a replay to know this -- and second base umpire Mark Hirschbeck called Eisenreich safe.
To me, it was yet another opportunity to join the "Screw The Giants" party. And what's worse is, where the hell was the first base umpire? Had it been a Giant called safe....
Hey, call me paranoid; I'm convinced it's true. When's the last time you saw a call reversed so as to help the Giants?
This lack of umpire accountability is nuts.
"I don't complain too much because officials usually do a good job, but I have seen some terrible calls this year against the Giants," says SwampAsh: "Giants runners called out, opponents called safe, pitches a foot off the plate called strikes against Giants batters but not against the opposition. Do the Giants have a poor reputation among umpires that causes them to be less impartial?"
As a Giants fan, of course I'd tend to believe that this is the case. I'd be very interested, however, in knowing to what extent fans of other teams think their boys are getting screwed, too.
This year I've noticed a handful of bad calls that have gone the Giants' way -- nothing major, as I recall; just things like stolen base attempts, say.
A poster on the baseball newsgroup mentioned a Ryne Sandberg home run that was overruled -- home plate ump Harry Wendlestedt said it went foul -- and the result was Don Zimmer and third base coach Joe Altobelli being ejected.
The successfully arguing opposing manager? Roger Craig.
You'd think I'd remember this, because it has to be the only time in San Francisco Giants history that a call was reversed in our favor.
Which makes me wish I could get a bunch of people -- fans of all teams -- to take note of legitimately blown calls, reversals, etc., and the "for/against your team" ratio of such calls. I suspect almost everybody would say that more calls went against their teams than for, but it's the ratios that would interest me. I mean, if the consensus among Giants fans was, like, 2:27, and the consensus among, say, Dodger fans was 13:16, that would be pretty telling, I think.
"My mom always accuses me of having a selective memory," says Jeff C., "so it's very likely I'd come up with a zero-to-infinity ratio."
But I guess there would have to be conditions on such a "study" -- i.e., to document the actual circumstances. If enough people were involved, you could at least compare stories and such.
"What is it with the umps and the Giants this week?" says James G. "On Sunday, a pole-clearing foul is called fair, a two-run homer, by the first base umpire. Tonight, Jeff Kent smashes the runner in the chest with the gloved ball; runner takes three more steps around Kent and is called safe by Hirschbeck. (And let's not even mention Eric Gregg's variable strike zone.)
"Even though the Giant rallied and won in both cases, these are two of the most appallingly bad calls I've seen in a long while. Is there any behind-the-scenes punishment or penalty for such egregiously bad calls?"
"I'd be surprised if umps got disciplined for making a single bad call," says Sean. "They're only human, and you have to expect that just as [insert player here] makes mistakes occasionally during the course of a season, so will the umpires.
"Umps can and do get disciplined for other things, and we've seen cases of them being suspended or fired for poor performance."
I'm glad Sean said that, because it's looked to me as though umpires don't have to worry about accountability, and it's disturbing. I've seen the same horrific calls that James has, and these are just the two latest.
Now, I understand that umpires make mistakes. What I don't understand is (a) how come other umps almost never overrule bad calls when they know that such an overrule would be the right choice -- I mean, is it really possible that none of the four umpires, people whose job it is to watch what happens really closely, saw the play correctly? -- and (b) how come when they do overrule a call, never ever ever ever ever does it actually help the Giants?
Remember the off-the-spike double play a few weeks back? Barry Bonds was on third, J.T. Snow hit a low liner toward the mound, off of which it bounced before heading toward Matt Williams, who throws to first. Bonds scored. Or so it would seem.
But wait: The play was called back due to a holding penalty or something. In fact, the third base umpire ruled that there was no catch, and Bonds ran home based on what that call. The home plate umpire reversed the call, however, and Bonds -- who had run based on what the nearest umpire had decided -- was out as a result. See, the ball apparently hit the spike on Andy Benes' shoe -- and not the ground -- and was therefore a line drive.
Now, actually, I have no problem with this; I would just like for it to have been called correctly in the first place. In any case, I'd rather the right call be made eventually, even if the result is likely to annoy me.
Recently there was a similar play in which Jeff Cirillo may or may not have caught a low line drive -- I couldn't tell from the replay -- and then threw to first, too late to retire Darryl Hamilton, the batter. Kerwin Danley, he third base umpire, made the safe sign, meaning that the ball wasn't caught. Rich Aurilia, the runner on first, therefore had to advance, because he was forced.
But wait: Second base umpire Jeff Kellogg ruled that Cirillo caught the ball, so (a) Hamilton was out, and (b) Aurilia was doubled off. Once again, an umpire misleads Giants baserunners. I guess the mistake is trusting the umpires at all....
Now, in both of these cases, the ultimate result may well have been the right result (except for the part about baserunners being misled by umpires -- which also happened in the triple play into which the Giants hit against the Cubs a year ago; that time, the umpire seemed to misinterpret the infield fly rule). But I'd really like to know if all the umpires really pay attention to what's going on on the field -- because of plays such as the ones James described above.
And I'd really like to know why they so often won't overrule a colleague, preferring umpire solidarity over making the right call.
"One umpire cannot overrule another umpire," says Ryan, who is an umpire on some level, but I don't know which. "It's in the rules. Can you imagine the chaos if this were permissible?"
But what would you call it when it actually happens?
"If I remember the triple play correctly, the outfielders and infielders converged and couldn't make up their mind who was going to catch the ball. The second base umpire was correct in ruling and infield fly. The runners, seeing the ball fall in, committed a mortal sin by trying to advance when they didn't have to. Result: Three outs.
But the rule -- please jump in if I'm wrong -- states that the ball must be able to be caught "with ordinary effort." I guess that's the point of interpretation on this one, because the confusion was seriously wind-aided, and it didn't look like any ordinary effort would settle it. Eventually it was dropped by the center fielder -- and yes, I do understand that outfielders can be involved on infield flies....
The problem was that the umpire, Bob Davidson, waited forever to call the infield fly. I was at the game, then watched the replay several times at home. The ball was practically in (and out of) the center fielder's glove. So basically, by the time "infield fly" was called, the runners pretty much figured they had to advance, because the ball was dropped -- I mean, it was too late to decide. The mortal sin was committed by the umpire's indecision, not the runners' bad decision.
"Again," says Ryan, "the rules prohibit umpires from overruling each other. Believe it or not, we do ask for help from our partners quite a lot.
"Unfortunately, the TV camera rarely picks this up and fans in the stands can't hear what's going on on the field."
Yes, I believe this part, but also I'm asking because it just doesn't seem to happen in the major leagues.
"But hey, umpires are only human, just like the players. Players boot easy grounders and muff easy pop-ups. Umpires sometimes miss easy plays. Everybody's trying to do their best."
I have no doubt. Never have. (On the other hand, how come everybody always has to qualify the umps as "only human"? That's like, "So, how do you like the new guy?" "Well, I like him enough, but...." It's that "but" that matters.)
"If you don't think so," Ryan continues, "become an umpire yourself. It's a whole new ballgame."
Believe me, I know. I don't mean to go on a rampage about umpires, because it's not umpires per se with whom I have any problem whatsoever. It's major league umpires -- at least the current crop, anyway. I'm sorry, but they seem much more concerned with being shown up than with making sure that an obviously wrong decision is allowed to stand.
(I also notice that an umpire's defense against complaints about umpiring in general is, "Let's see you do it." Nobody's necessarily saying they could do it any better -- but why should that preclude us from calling things as we see them, just as the umps do? Do I need to have won seventy-five comedy performance awards before branding Pauly Shore as the least justifiably employed performer in history? I don't think so.)
I have no problem with the fact that sometimes umpires will miss a call, for exactly the reasons Ryan states, but clearly calls do get reversed -- i.e., umpires clearly get overruled by their partners -- and I'd like to know why this is true in some cases but not others. I'm not sure what he means in saying that the rules don't allow for calls to be reversed; it sounds like he's either denying the evidence in front of us, or he's making some kind of distinction between "calls being reversed" and "umpires overruling each other."
Sean says it's "mostly correct" that one ump can't overrule another: "The pertinent rule is 9.02(c): 'If a decision is appealed, the umpire making the decision may ask another umpire for information before making a final decision. No umpire shall criticize, seek to reverse or interfere with another umpire's decision unless asked to do so by the umpire making it.'
"I have seen umpires ask for help on occasion, when their view was blocked for example.
"There is an exception for the check-swing appeal, which can be requested by the catcher."
But why won't these guys ask for help if they're not sure? That's the key question, here. How can an umpire be completely sure he's right when a call is vigorously protested? I would think he'd have to wonder if he might only be 99% right or something.
In the case of the line drive to Jeff Cirillo, my understanding is that the third base ump signaled "no catch," but was immediately overruled by the second base umpire. I don't know that any such overrule was requested.
"'Kent batted in the eighth inning needing a double for the cycle, but pitcher Kirt Ojala walked him. Was Kent thinking two bases?
"'"Damn straight," he said. "But he didn't throw me any pitches."'
"Just imagine if Barry Bonds was asked the same question, under the same circumstances, and responded with the same answer.
"Bonds would have been called 'a selfish player who only cares about padding his stats.'
"Henry Schulman, who wrote the article, is a good writer, and is obviously a major upgrade over his predecessor, Nancy Gay. I know Henry contributes [to the Giants newsgroup], so I don't want to make it look like I'm picking on him. I'm not. I'm just saying that everyone knows that the anti-Bonds contingent would have had a field day had it been Barry who said that."
It's gotten to the point where I expect him to get ripped for even the mildest things.
"By the way, I was pretty surprised that no one criticized Bonds for bunting for a hit Saturday night in Atlanta I figured he would be considered a selfish player going for the stats."
Same here. Or, at least, that he'd receive some sort of lefthanded compliment along the lines of, "Finally the guy's smart enough to try and beat the shift."
"I guess not even the most ardent Barry Bonds haters aren't that biased. Maybe there is some hope in the world."
Nah. None.
I dunno. I think the Giants probably wanted very much to get Hershiser a win, finally.
For Giants fans, though, probably the latter scenario is best, except it was zero fun watching Nen go a little ape, Kent make a big error, and Hirschbeck make his gratuitous "Screw The Giants" call.
"A 2-1 win where Kent doesn't make an error but concedes a run would have been even better in my book, since I like winning the one-run games (it's a cool stat)," says Carlos. "Also, Hershiser singled, stole a base, and scored on a wild pitch, and he did all this after there were two outs. He totally deserved the win. If he doesn't score that run then maybe the rest of the game unfolds the same way and the Giants lose in the bottom of the ninth, heartbreak style.
"Then again, one thing the Florida announcer said that was interesting was that with a 1-0 lead, Mueller would have been guarding the line, so he probably would have fielded Edgar Renteria's double for out number one. But of course, this means that Giants defensive positions would probably have been affected from the seventh inning on. So, we'll never know.
"The one really nice thing was Snow's bases-clearing double. Bonds was grabbing him around the neck and practically giving him noogies in the dugout. When someone comes through, Bonds shows his appreciation. That's the human part of Bonds that should end up in a story. In the long run, if this is the 'spark' that ignites Snow, then it will have been worth Hershiser not getting the win. It was really ironic to me, because when Bonds was on third and Snow went 0-2, I was thinking that Bonds was thinking that Snow would choke. But in the end, that was probably just me imposing my thoughts into Bonds.
"I have been thinking that while other calls were bad, I could at least rationalize the umpire's mistake [i.e., the tag play]. This was the worst of the season, period. Not even close. I can't recall anything worse except for every game Eric Gregg calls behind the plate. Of course, in infinite fairness, Ron Perranoski would probably say that Gregg's strike zone is 1960s style."
"The wheels of justice turn slowly, so goes the axiom, but they do turn.
"Six months ago, a young man in orange and black sat for two evenings in Pro Player Stadium (no anti-corporate rant here, but couldn't they have called it Park to at least be alliterative?) and felt every single pitch of the two most heartwrenching post '93 losses of the Beloved Giants. He felt the debris that rained down on his back as he had the temerity to stand and applaud his chosen ballclub. He felt the taunts, directed at his person, his appearance and his ancestry. He felt the roar of 50,000 as Billy the Marlin (bush league, coughcough) planted a flag in the middle of the diamond following Game One... and chants of 'We Want the Braves' and 'Giants Suck' flooded the congested walkways of Pro Player.
"He felt every postseason pitch...and offseason gloat.
"Over the last three nights, he sat in that very same stadium, hell -- he believed he saw some of the very same faces... but couldn't be sure. Seen one 300-pound man wearing a fish for a hat, seen them all.
"But some of the faces were gone... no, not the ones of which you are aware, names like Moises and Brown and, well, and Nen -- but the obnoxious 'Bleacher Brigade,' the T-shirt-shooting trio whose antics would continue even during play... the smarmy public address announcer, who could turn the word 'Alooooouuuuuuuuu' into an aria... the constant rock music, theme songs for each member of the team -- scaled back... the year-long party that was South Florida baseball in 1997... now nothing but a pile of empties on the lawn and a friend's roommate's underage cousin passed out on the couch.
"I'm not saying that the bad memories are all swept away by the full realization of what has become of the Marlins -- by three glorious days in which the World Champions lost in as many varied fashions as conceivable in a short series. My post-Game 2 parking lot scuffle (my fault, granted -- unless there is still pending litigation, in which case I used only the force necessary and proportionate under the circumstances, hell, I wasn't even there -- it was probably Pearlman) [Good guess, except that I haven't been in a fight since I was eleven. Or to Florida at all. Or so I say. -- GP] isn't forgotten by the rain-delayed shutout in which maybe 500 of us remained at the ballpark as the game wound to a close... and at least half of those wearing orange and black. "The night I lost a battle to talk my way out of a traffic ticket (again, my fault, I was driving like 102 on I-95... but, hey, my argument is, 'The President does it!'... no, wait... that's something else) when I wouldn't acquiesce to the police officer's suggestion (perhaps in jest) that I remove the Giants bumper sticker from my car isn't ancient history because of the six-spot which we hung on the World champions in the tenth inning of the near-nightmare game -- a game which saw some 10,000 fans streaming in compete silence from the yard with nary a flag planting or a 'Giants Suck' to be heard among them.
"And the way in which a truly remarkable season by the Bay got completely lost in the expansion team turned championship team tidal wave, not just in South Florida but in the remembrance of national baseball media (Baseball Weekly's 10 top moments of the season, anyone?) will not be laughed away by me because of the sonic boom dropped on Pro Player as Brent Mayne turned a laugher into a miracle following what seemed like a million bases on balls from the syphilitic American Legion rejects known as the Marlin bullpen.
"Nope... none of that is swept away. I'm harboring that ill will for a few more miles.
"But, this week at Pro Player Stadium... somethin' sure as hell got swept: 1-2-3.
"Enjoy the cellar, Champs. Nobody deserves it more."
"True fans never do this," says Greg L. "Only the bandwagoners."
Of course. But still: majority rules. Given that I knew far more about the topic at hand than they did, I didn't take it too personally. I figure that if relative rooting interests was what they needed to try and establish superiority... I probably had the battle won already.
"Hey, at least you're not a Cub fan," says Tim I. "Most of the country didn't even have a phone in 1908 when they last won the Series. It would be hard to get many calls back then. Even with the pitching of Three Finger Brown and the Tinker-to-Evers to Chance combination which was storied in literature but actually mediocre at turning the double play. 1908: The year the Giants should have won the pennant except for the Merkle boner."
The worst thing about that is that Merkle did something that was in common practice at the time -- and almost always allowed. Were it not for the fact that it had happened to the Cubs earlier in the season also, they wouldn't have even thought about trying to force Merkle at second after he ran off the field. So it's not that they cheated -- the Giants did... and suddenly it was no longer okay to cheat in that way.
"Even 90 years ago, vowels [such as a repeated "E"] were appropriate."
It's even appropriate now to emit them over something that happened 90 years ago.
Jim's mention of "theme songs for each member of the team" reminds me that, oy, have I gotten tired of hearing Darth Vader music every time Gary Sheffield steps up to the plate. Which reminds me that in Pittsburgh, the organist always used to play "Iron Man" for Cory Snyder, and I wonder why.
"For the same reason they played Alice in Chains' 'Rooster' for Tom Lampkin, or Rush's 'Limelight' for Dave McCarty at Candlestick a few years back," says Grant: "None. (Although 'Limelight' and McCarty have some ironic connection.)"
Greg provides these lyrics to the Cory Snyder Theme Song:
Has he thoughts within his head?
We'll just pass him there
Why should we even care?
Nobody wants him, they just turn their heads
Ah. Your EEEEEE! Replay, then.
But the whole "Giants suck" thing brought me back to the two Giants-Padres games I attended at San Diego (not even Jack Murphy yet) Stadium in 1980-81. The fans would be all over the Giants -- well, any opponent, I'd guess -- and once the Padres took, like, a 1-0 or 2-0 lead, the volume and abuse would only increase. Then the Giants would score... and the volume would drop. Then the Giants would take the lead... and the place would become a tomb. Then you'd hear noise eventually -- bitching about the Padres.
"Well, most fans are like that," says Greg. "I mean, look at us: We bitch about the Giants, even when things are going pretty good."
This much is true. But Giants games really aren't like that. The fans quiet down when the game gets out of hand, but not when we're down by two runs. And generally they're not all over the opposing players, except when the Dodgers come to town -- and often not even then.
"The Padres have known a lot of heartache too," Greg adds, but I say:
The Giants: Forty years, two Series appearances, no World Championships. The Padres: Twenty-nine years, one Series appearance, no World Championships. We win. Ain't nobody been in their current location longer than the Giants without winning a World Series.
"Back in my college days," Greg says, "I lived with a bunch of San Diego fans who had a sort of dark outlook that would make most of us look like 'the glass is half-full' types. Of course, the Giants beat the Padres out for a division title during those years, which brought me no small amount of pleasure."
I believe "glee" would've been an appropriate emotion under the circumstances.
Granted, the Padres games I went to took place nearly 20 years ago, and I haven't been there since (though not for that reason), so I can only hope the fans have gotten better.
"I got down to the Murph in '92 and '93," says James R. "In one game, the Padres were ahead by about five runs going into the ninth. The G-Men rallied back and took the game. [And the crowd was] exactly as you [described] it."
Wow. For one thing, I'm thrilled we won, but for another, I'm saddened that the atmosphere hadn't changed. I mean, I thought it was a nice enough place to go (even though, with a crowd of about 6,000, they'd we themselves if you tried to go to a box seat with bleacher tickets), and you couldn't beat the weather.
"When the team was up, it was margaritas and free porn for everyone. [Yeah, but what kind of porn? "Soft core," says Greg. "All you got to see was one nipple and it was the man's." Oh. Sounds like the 1991 Score baseball cards, with the beefcake shots of Rickey Henderson and Jose Canseco. No thanks. -- GP] When the team went down, the scene was 60-cent scotch and a very limp... er, um... [Viagra Falls? -- GP] membership [Oh. -- GP] in the Morgue of the Month Club. I was proud to be wearing the orange and black, took a beer in the back for it but came out smellin' like a rose. [And a beer. -- GP] Some things never change."
Seriously, that's a shame. At least (I hope) James wasn't looking for a fight, though. I've seen that at the 'Stick -- can remember this one guy, a Dodger fan rooting very loudly and ostentatiously for his boys, looking around all the while -- as if to challenge anybody who objected to his affinity. I was concerned that he might be in just the right place to have his wish granted.
No matter how much I hate the Dodgers, I'll always hate assaults based on rooting interests far more....
"In LA before a Giants-Dodgers game, some drunk sprayed me with beer," says Carlos. "I jumped him and was trying to inflict damage without effect, but then my 200-plus-pound friend grabbed him and start banging him against a car saying "That... [BANG] ... is... [BANG]... not... [BANG]... a... [BANG]... nice... [BANG] ... thing... [BANG]... to... [BANG]... do!'"
I have this vision of Captain Kirk and the evil Klingon commander, Klugh, duking it out on a cliff. With Klugh trying desperately to get a grip on something solid that's not Kirk, ol' Jim starts kicking him: "I [WHACK] have had [WHACK] enough [WHACK] of you! [WHACK]" -- at which time Klugh goes spinning into the abyss....
"Because of that," says Carlos, "I'm really leery of showing my colors unless I have a 'gang' with me, which isn't often. That's why I was so amazed when I saw two games at the 'Stick last year. It was like coming home after 30 years at sea."
Just out of self preservation, I'll make sure not to spill even as much as a bottled water on Carlos....
"No, that's okay," he says. "You're a Giants fan. [It's my job, even. -- GP] You would be forgiven. I would discount it as a nervous spasm, coming as a result of a timely Giant's game-winning hit in the bottom of the ninth. Or maybe just the residual flashback memory of McCovey's hit in the bottom of the ninth in the 1962 World Series of oh so long ago (that outcome was rewritten in your merciful dreams, of course)."
But hey, back to the happenings in South Florida: Was anybody else driving when Mayne hit his grand slam? I nearly ran off the road -- too busy making macho "Yes!"-type gestures with my hands. Couldn't keep them on the wheel.
"Ted's call of the home run left me a bit confused when it was happening -- at first I thought it was a line shot over the first baseman and into the corner: 'And Mayne hits a line shot into the right field corner... [interminable pause]... if it stays fair it's gone... [pause for what seems like a freakin' eternity as my heart races and my brain goes 'pleasepleaseplease']... GRAND SLAM! [and I just freak out]."
Exactly. Great moment. The one thing that kept me from screaming like a four-year-old was that my four-year-old had conked out in the car.
"I am really starting to like Ted Robinson, and I actually like his home run calls," says Richard. "He gets so excited that it sounds like he is putting his whole essence behind them. He captured the moment perfectly, even down to the hesitation.
"I never would have believed this could be so when he first got here and all I could hear was his high-pitched piping voice. I guess it just takes getting used to these guys, sometimes. I had troubles with Hank Greenwald at first too (of course, he was replacing Lon Simmons, who was really wonderful back then).
"(On the other hand, Lindsay Nelson, Hank's first partner, grated on me on Day One, and grated on me until the day he finally retired. I never got used to him, despite having to listen the Chili Davis haircut story something like 1,000 consecutive games.)"
In any case, Friday's game looked sort of promising: Nobody out in the fourth, runners on first and second for the Cubs. The runners go. Jeff Blauser hits a line shot to first. Charlie Hayes grabs it, steps on first, throws to second... triple play.
Woo-hoo!
First time I've ever heard the Giants turn one, and the first time they've done it since 1980.
Of course, they were down 2-0... and when the Cubs turned one against the Giants a year ago, the Giants won that one... but that doesn't mean we had to lose, right?
Right?
Wrong.
In any case, Guy, Joe, and Rich -- the last Giants involved in turning a triple play (that's Sularz, Pettini, and Murray)... Glih.
And Jon Miller said later that the last time the Cubs hit into a triple play, Rey Sanchez had hit a line drive back to Kirk Rueter of the Expos....
Miller also said that the triple play "took the Cubs out of the inning." I thought, "Well, yeah, that's obvious," but then I started to wonder what the record might be for runs scored in an inning in which a triple play occurred.
Anybody know? If so, pass it on.
"I don't understand a move Jim Riggleman made," says Tim I. "In the top of the seventh, tied 2-2, Bonds got a two-out single against lefthander Terry Mulholland. Riggleman then removed Mulholland, opting for a righthander to pitch to Kent.
"Now, it's not that I think Mulholland is a better pitcher or has a better chance to get Kent out. But a runner on first and two out is the ultimate situation to try to steal second. Against a lefty, especially one with a pickoff move as good as Mulholland's, it's harder to steal. I'd think the odds of a stolen base and a single against a righty are better than the chances of giving up a run-scoring double (or more) from the lefty. This lefty/righty switch didn't seem to make any sense.
"Besides, the righthander failed to get Kent. And Bonds didn't steal, so it's moot. But this really seems like a bad decision, with a blind allegiance to the lefty/righty strategy seeming to hurt the team's chances to get out of the inning unscathed."
The key phrase here is "blind allegiance to the lefty/righty strategy." It hasn't killed the Giants this year, but it's very Dusty. In fact, it's so Dusty that when Brent Mayne got his first start this year, it was against a lefty, with Brian Johnson starting the next day against a righty -- and it was weird not just because these guys were being put at a platoon disadvantage, but because Dusty made the decision to do so.
I'm pretty sure I trust him more than in the past, but I used to be afraid that he'd do something like send up Kim Batiste to hit for Barry Bonds because the other team had brought in a lefty or something.
(Just darting into my mind is the episode of The Simpsons where Mr. Burns, owner of the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, stocks his company softball team with actual major leaguers in order to win the league championship. Various events -- Ken Griffey Jr. developing gigantism, Steve Sax being arrested for no reason, Jose Canseco saving a woman and all her belongings from a fire, Roger Clemens believing he's a chicken -- ensure that the power plant employees are back in the lineup -- except for Homer Simpson, whose position is still occupied by Darryl Strawberry. With the bases loaded in a tie game in the ninth, Mr. Burns sends up Homer to bat for Strawberry. Strawberry says, "But Skip, I've hit nine home runs today." And Burns says, "Yes, but you're lefthanded batter, and so is the pitcher. If I put in a righthanded batter, that's what's known as 'playing the percentages.'")
"The gardenias excrete the dew at dawn."
"Down through the chimney with good Saint Nick."
"The cockatiel shrieks at four-twenty a.m."
"Ala-ka-zoola, mitchi-ka-boola, bibbidy bobbidy boo."
"Tommy?"
"Bulldog?"
"Yeah."
"Report, Agent 55."
"First I demand the Cone of Silence."
"Very well, Agent 55.
[Cone of silence descends.]
"Well, Chief, everything's going according to plan. And I'm unfazed by losses."
"What? What did you say?"
"Huh? I can't hear you!"
"I said, 'Well, Chief, everything's going according to plan, and I'm unfazed by LOSSES!"
"Bulldog, forget the Cone of Silence next time, okay?"
It's very simple: "Gotta do it right," Tom says.
"I have been tracking the Giants' results this year," he says, "trying to see if there is an impact on the Pythagorean results from specific pitchers' performances (the way William VanLandingham and Osvaldo Fernandez skewed the results last year). I know one month is not a very big sample, and these results are all pretty much to form, but I thought I would post them anyway each month, just for kicks.
"Overall, after 30 games (though Sunday's stunning win [i.e., May 3] over the Braves -- stunning because it looked to me like they were going to pull a '93 Colorado against them this year), each starter has pitched in six games. In those games (including the innings after the starter left the games) here is the Runs For, Runs Against, Giants' actual won/loss in those games, projected won/loss, and the Giants' batting average in support. I have not shown stuff that is easy to get, like the pitchers' ERA and won-lost record, etc.:
RF RA W-L Proj record Team BA
Estes 17 27 2-4 1.80-4.20 .236
Hershiser 19 28 2-4 1.98-4.02 .251
Rueter 26 20 3-3 3.71-2.29 .270
Gardner 39 27 4-2 3.97-2.03 .300
Darwin 30 25 4-2 3.50-2.50 .250
Overall 131 127 15-15 15.43-14.57 .262
Again, not much here yet, but there are a couple of obvious points:
Ken B. says, "This year's Baseball Prospectus points out that Estes had excellent bullpen support last year. Estes left a lot of games with men on base and relatively few of them scored. I don't have his numbers, but I think his overall run support was good but not spectacular."
"Michael Wolverton's Support-Neutral Won-Lost for Estes was 12.4-10.1, or roughly 12-10 (.551 winning percentage)," says Tom A. "Which means that the G-men scored like gangbusters for him.
"Oh, and so nobody gets ticked at me, Shawn's QWP (QMAX winning percentage) was .537, which projects to about 12-10 also. (His QMAX scores for 1997 were 3.31 'stuff' (really good) and 3.88 'command' (really not good). Average QMAX is about 4.10 stuff, 3.10 command. (lower is better).
"My apologies for those who haven't bought either Baseball Prospectus or Big Bad Baseball Annual and have no idea what I'm talking about."
I don't completely understand QMAX either, but "stuff" refers to hits and "command" refers to walks. For more on this, try the BBBA website.
"Here is the info for the six main starters from last year," says Richard, although I didn't track batting average by game in 1997, so that is missing:
RF RA W-L Proj record
Estes 175 115 23-9 21.86-10.14
Alvarez 64 49 8-3 6.82-4.18
Rueter 167 144 20-12 18.16-13.84
Gardner 134 142 17-13 14.20-15.80
Fernandez 50 71 6-5 3.79-7.21
VanLandingham 64 102 6-11 5.08-11.92
"So, basically, every pitcher outperformed their Pythagorean results last year, though Rueter's numbers suffered from poor relief in his outings and Gardner's really fell apart in his last five games (in fact, the record in his starts before those last five was 16-9 vs. 14.85-10.15; i.e. the results in those five games were so one-sided in total that his Pythagorean win total went down).
Ken offers some more insight: "Entering when the Giants were tied or up one, Poole pitched 8 innings with an ERA of 1.08; entering in all other situations, Poole pitched 41 innings with an ERA of 8.35. Of those 41 innings, 25 came when the Giants were down three or more runs. When Dusty sent him in to mop up, he burned the place to the ground, but his best work happily appeared when the Giants were tied or up by one. Just the sort of luck that helps a team perform much better than its runs scored and runs allowed would suggest."
"Or, possibly a non-luck reason a team would do so," says Jonathan. "There could be reasons, either 'clutch' pitching or otherwise, that the Giants got progressively worse as the game got away. If that's true, it might not have been luck that the Giants beat their Pythagorean projection by so much.
"Of course, it was probably luck."
"There are two issues here," Ken says. "As BBBA points out, Poole's outings indicate that his manager doesn't trust him. About half his innings came with the team down three or more runs. This looks like Baker trying to concentrate a bad pitcher's work in places where it's least likely to hurt the team. It's true that if your last resort in the bullpen is terrible and mostly pitches when the team is down significantly then the team is going to suffer a lot of blowouts and move it away from the Pythagorean projection. That's a non-luck factor, but it brings up the question of why you would keep going to a terrible pitcher."
"Agreed," says Jonathan. "Of course, Poole was quite good until last year, so that's a reasonable reason to keep going to him, at least for a while."
"The second factor," continues Ken, "is Poole's pattern of doing his best pitching with the score tied or his team up one. He pulled an extreme version of what a team needs to do to exceed their Pythagorean projection: perform well above their overall level in high-leverage situations, and concentrate the worst performances in situations where the team is already significantly behind. I call that pattern luck."
"I think that's too strong for pitchers," Jonathan says. "We don't know whether pitchers have clutch abilities, or ability to 'pitch to the score.' To the best of my knowledge, there are no studies that shed light on the issue. Your best guess may be that it's luck, but we really don't know."
Ken says, "It also supplies a partial answer to the question of why you would keep the guy around -- those good innings are going to stick in the manager's mind because of when they happened.
"I think it's safe to suggest Poole's extremes in performance last year were at least somewhat luck. Of course, when you're talking 10 and 40 innings it can be the luck of small sample size. If he truly has an ability to pitch better while tied or up one I have a hard time believing it's to the degree of making him eight times better than in other situations."
"Somewhat, yes," says Tim I., "but I can't dismiss the possibility that some pitchers just bear down and concentrate on the job at hand when they feel the game is one the line. Personally, I don't think they should be major leaguers if they can't give it their best every time out, but I don't sign their paychecks."
"I can think of two conventional wisdom claims that pitchers, especially relievers, pitch to the score in certain situation," says Ken:
"This is certainly plausible," says Ken, "and it's more plausible for pitchers than for batters because pitchers initiate the action. The announcers used to say that Rick Reuschel saved his fastest fastball for when he really needed an out -- that he could get up to 92 mph, but he usually worked in the 80's, changing speed and location, so that his best heater seemed to have extra pop. That fits with the way Reuschel pitched, and it makes sense that he would figure that out early since his best fastball wasn't all that great. Of course, I have no idea if Reuschel was better in key situations, however you want to define those."
"Right," says Jonathan. "If pitchers rear back and put something extra on it when they need to, then there are two things that are apt to vary among pitchers: the difference between 'normal' and 'something extra,' and how good they are at knowing when to use the 'something extra.'"
"A common explanation for the enormous number of innings pitched in the early years of the game is that pitchers were able to get by with pitching well below capacity much of the time," says Ken. "Of course, innings pitched by starters has steadily dropped, and an explanation for that would be that pitchers can't set cruise control very far below their best stuff. If that's the case, and I suspect it is, you wouldn't expect to see a huge difference in key situations."
"Yup," says Jonathan. "I think it's pretty much a confirmed fact that turn-of-the-century pitchers didn't throw as hard as they could very often, and that the percentage of the time they go all out has increased dramatically. What we don't know is whether it's entirely disappeared.
"We're always disparaging players' testimony on things like 'clutch' performance, but this is a situation where it would probably be useful."
Ken says, "I'm not sure how you'd measure 'pitch to the score' outside of extreme situations like the ones above. Would such a measurement lower Estes' rating because he wasted all those scoreless innings with an eight-run lead? At some point in that game the objective became for him to keep the bullpen seated for nine full innings and not hurt his arm in the process. By moving things along and allowing no runs he accomplished that.
"There is also a selection issue. With middle relievers you can look at the situation when they enter the game because there is plenty of variety there. With closers it's going to be a much more limited range. Starters, on the other hand, have a great deal of input as to their situation after the first inning. If they get four runs up in the first give up three in the third, they have plenty of opportunities to be 'clutch.' Put up zeroes and they never show up on the clutch radar, but they have greatly increased the team's chances of winning. Because a pitcher's performance is cumulative it's harder to simply pull out late and close and say 'these events had more leverage the game's outcomes than did others.'"
About Estes, Ken says, "In SNWL terms, he was the luckiest pitcher in baseball -- that is, he got the greatest positive difference between his expected record with average run support and his actual record. I'm not sure how much of that difference came from raw run support and how much came from excellent bullpen support and well-placed run support."
"That's clearly luck," says Jonathan, "although here, the 'luck' means that his personal won-lost record was better than his pitching deserved, not that the team won-lost record was any better than the team deserved."
"It could be either," says Ken. "If the team scored a ton of runs for him then the team may have earned the won-lost record with its offense. If Estes had a pattern of blowout losses and close wins, then you're talking about team luck as well. As I understand it, SNWL doesn't distinguish between these two cases (high level of run support or lucky distribution of average run support)."
"Yup, although as Richard's evidence shows, that wasn't the case, here," Jonathan says.
Richard points again to the team's record in Estes' starts, which was 23-9, compared to the projection of 21.86-10.14. "No big disparity," he says, "though of course the relievers were involved in these games as well as Estes."
"They tried to kill us. We won. Let's eat."
This sounds a lot like being a Giants fan, except for the part about winning.
(This remark was met with a simple, "Keep the faith, Baby....")
AVG HR RBI
1992 .143 0 2 (September call up)
1993 .343 6 17 (Looks good, doesn't it?)
1994 .202 2 8
1995 .313 0 1 (Only 4 games in April)
1996 .244 0 7
1997 .235 0 7
1998 .200 0 10
So generally, it doesn't look so hot.
However, suddenly this isn't the issue with Snow anymore. He's been away from the club the last few days, as his mother is very ill, evidently with cancer. I don't know who could perform capably under conditions like that, and I certainly wish the very best for J.T. Snow and his family.
Copyright ©1998 by Gregg Pearlman
Last updated 5/11/98 Gregg Pearlman, gregg@EEEEEEgp.com