Author: Dan Freedman

DOLLARS & SENSE

It was quite an (un)eventful off-season for the Boys in Blue.  When the Diamondbacks swooped in and paid Zach Greinke 6/$206.5M, Andrew Friedman and company took a ton of flak.  An oft-held belief is that the Dodgers have unlimited money, and that not signing Greinke was simply a bad business decision.  Unfortunately for those not in the know, the facts don’t bear that out.

The Dodgers reported to Spring Training ready to defend their NL West crown.  However, from nearly the first day of camp, the news out of Camelback Ranch could not have been worse.  With the pre-season winding down and the Dodgers getting ready to head West, here is a list of their walking/limping/crutching wounded:

• Brett Anderson (back)
• Mike Bolsinger (ribs)
• Andre Ethier (shin)
• Yimi Garcia (knee)
• Yasmani Grandal (forearm)
• Alex Guerrero (knee)
• Kike Hernandez (rib cage)
• Howie Kendrick (calf)
• Brandon McCarthy (elbow)
• Yasiel Puig (hamstring)
• Hyun-Jin Ryu (shoulder)
• Corey Seager (knee)
• Alex Wood (forearm)

And with each injury, the chattering class kept dredging up the Greinke deal.  It is the naysayers belief that if the Dodgers had just opened the vault and paid Greinke what he wanted (and given him that risky sixth year), all these ailments would be healed; all these problems would be solved.  There is a fair argument, however, that just the opposite is true.

The Dodgers’ payroll has exceeded the Luxury Tax threshold each of the past three seasons; and it is expected to do so again this year.  Four or more seasons results in a 50% penalty.  So, regardless of the number of years they gave Greinke, the Dodgers would be paying 150% of his salary in actual dollars.  Or, said differently, at $34.6M/year, Greinke would have cost the Dodgers more than $50M.  Is Zach Greinke worth $50M/year?

It bears repeating, but the Dodgers don’t have unlimited funds.  Guggenheim Partners didn’t become a billion dollar company by being profligate or stupid.  They are asset managers; they know how to manage assets.

So, rather than effectively spending $50M for one pitcher, Friedman and Farhan Zaidi decided to allocate those resources in a manner that provided depth – the type they know they would need if they wanted another chance at the Fall Classic.

Well, how’d they do?  Here is a list of the Dodgers’ off-season deals:

• Brett Anderson (1/$15.8M per a Qualifying Offer)
• Scott Kazmir (3/$48M; but only $11M for 2016)
• Kenley Jansen (1/$10.65M)
  Chase Utley (1/$7M)
• Justin Turner (1/$5.1M)
• Howie Kendrick (2/$20M; but only $5M for 2016)
• A.J. Ellis (1/$4.5M)
• Joe Blanton (1/$4M)
• Kenta Maeda (8/$25M)
• Yasmani Grandal (1/$2.8M)
• Brandon Beachy (1/$1.5M)
• Luis Avilan (1/$1.39M)
• Scott Van Slyke (1/$1.225M; arbitration eligible)
• Chris Hatcher (1/$1.065M; arbitration eligible)
• Yasiel Sierra (6/$30M; but only $1M for 2016)
• Louis Coleman (1/$750K)
• Jamey Wright (Minor League contract)

The Dodgers signed 17 players (including 11 pitchers) for a total of $76.78M of 2016 dollars.  Strangely (smartly?), the total value of all of the contracts the Dodgers gave out for those 11 pitchers is roughly the same as the actual value of Greinke’s deal.  (As an aside, the well-informed might wonder about the defunct Hisashi Iwakuma deal, but it is fair to think that the Dodgers would not have signed Kazmir had they completed that deal; so that is essentially a financial wash.)

For the same $76M, the Dodgers could have re-signed Greinke and the position players listed above, and hoped for the best on the hill.  Or, they could have invested in their depth and their future, and put themselves in a position to win this year, next year, and in 2018 – the last season before the Best Pitcher on Earth can opt out of his contract.

So, contrary to what Dylan Hernandez wrote in the Los Angeles Times about the Dodgers wasting the best years of Kershaw’s career, the Dodgers actually did exactly what Kershaw says they have done: “I can only speak for what’s happened since I’ve been here, and every single year I feel we’ve had the chance to win.”

Had the Dodgers signed Greinke in lieu of all of the players listed above, it would have been the first time they didn’t – at least strategically – give Kershaw a chance to win.

PLAY BALL!!

HOT SEAT

The Boston Red Sox 2012 season – what was supposed to be a bounce-back year after the fried chicken and beer calamity that was the 2011 campaign – ended with a thud.  The Bobby Valentine experiment failed (in Spring Training), and so the Red Sox needed their third manager in three years.  In an effort to move up, the team looked up; they went to Canada and hired John Farrell as their new skipper.  In his first year at the helm, the Red Sox went 97-65 and won the World Series.  Not a bad start.

However, in 2014, the Red Sox resumed their position in the cellar, going 71-91, a grave disappointment.  And 2015 didn’t start much better.  By mid-August, the Sox were comfortably ensconced in last place, with a 50-64 record.  And then, on August 14th, Farrell announced that he was suffering from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma and that he would immediately undergo treatment.  The team named Torey Lovullo as the interim manager for the remainder of the season.

As these things tend to go, the team responded.  Maybe it was the inspiration of their fallen leader; maybe it was just a different voice in their ears; or maybe it was simply aggression to the mean.  But whatever it was, over their last 48 games, the team went 28-20 (a nearly 95-win pace).

However, not wanting their manager to get “Wally Pipped” by a cancer diagnosis, shortly after the season ended, the team announced that Farrell would return for the 2016 season.  And then the following happened:

• The BoSox acquired closer Craig Kimbrel from the Padres.
• And then they made the move of the off-season, signing David Price for 7/$217M.
• And then they finished off their Hot Stove by acquiring Carson Smith and Roenis Elias from the Mariners.
• After that, Red Sox Nation started polishing the duck boats in anticipation of another parade through the Back Bay.

But then Spring Training started.  Pablo Sandoval came in overweight (to put it kindly).  Rick Porcello and Clay Buchholz and Henry Owens and Brian Johnson proceeded to look awful on the hill.  And Carson Smith left a game with the dreaded forearm tightness.  Now suddenly, the outlook ain’t so brilliant, and Farrell finds himself squarely on the hot seat.

If the Red Sox break camp and start slowly – and there are many indications that they will – the front office will need to use their heads, not their hearts.

It is one thing to not fire a manager who is out on medical leave, fighting for his life.  But, by all accounts, Farrell is healthy, and the Red Sox are no longer required to take pity on the man if the team isn’t playing well.

Torey Lovullo remains right there on the bench; the man with the .583 winning percentage (admittedly, a small sample size) is but a seat cushion away.  World Series victory or not, Farrell comes into the season with a career record of 372-390; a Red Sox record of 218-220, with two last place finishes in the last three years (and 4 of 5 managerial seasons finishing in fourth place or worse).  Neither Farrell nor the Red Sox can allow that to become five out of six.

So, keep a watchful eye on Boston in April and May.  Dave Dombrowski and John Henry should have no issue eating the remainder of Farrell’s salary for 2016 and all of 2017 for a chance to win now.  And they should have even less compunction about doing so knowing that the right guy is already there, a few feet away, under contract, undervalued, and ready to take the reins.

PLAY BALL!!

FAMILY TIME

If you are like me, you spend a great deal of time worrying about being a good parent, making sure you spend quality time with each of your kids, and giving/showing/having the appropriate amount of love for each (if you have more than one).  That said, when you have a son who has the same interests as you, it is a hell of a lot easier to grab a ball and glove, or toss around the pigskin, or hit the links, than it is to set up the teacups or pull out the rainbow loom.  But no one ever said being a parent was easy.

Parenting, as you all know, is hard work.  And oftentimes, parenting is a study in absenteeism.  We all struggle with the perfect (best/appropriate/acceptable) work-life balance.  Wouldn’t it be so much easier if you could just bring your kids to work with you?  All your problems would be solved (you think), and you would never feel bad about leaving early or coming home late – you would never miss a minute of time with your kid(s).  In short, all would be right with the world.

As anyone with an internet connection knows, gigabytes have already been written about Adam LaRoche and his decision to walk away from $13M with the White Sox because they asked him to reduce the amount of time his son, Drake, spends with the club.  After LaRoche issued a statement last week, there is now some discrepancy between whether the team asked him to “dial back” or eliminate Drake’s presence at the yard.  Adam clearly believes he had an agreement with the team wherein Drake could be there all the time, and he felt that the team simply reneged when Kenny Williams made this request/demand.  And, judging from the outpouring of support from LaRoche’s teammates, it doesn’t seem as if Drake, who, by all accounts is a great kid, caused any disruption to the team.

But putting all of that aside, and notwithstanding any handshake to the contrary, the White Sox – as the employer – do have the right to set the workplace rules.  And LaRoche – as the employee – has right to take his bat and go home.  Neither side is wrong.

As the closeness of Adam’s relationship with Drake got more and more coverage, I began to wonder about Adam’s relationship with his 12-year old daughter, Montana.  It is not for me (or you) to judge, and Montana may be perfectly happy and content spending time with her mom and away from her dad.  But Adam, by his own words, laments the situation.  Last year (coincidentally, around Father’s Day), Adam told the Chicago Tribune that “it’s unfortunate she can’t come [into the clubhouse]. That’s thousands of hours of time we missed together, and Drake and I get to spend it together.”

This is not to say that Adam doesn’t treat Montana fairly (even if not equally).  I just know the hell I would take from my wife – not to mention my daughters – if I spent six months with my son and not my daughters, and if there were “thousands of hours of time we missed together”.  I know how hard it was on the family when I was on the field coaching my son for 2-3 hours on a Saturday afternoon, or for whole weekends when we had travel-ball tournaments.  But, even in those instances, the girls normally came to the fields, and I was just on the other side of the fence; I saw what they were doing, and could slip them a finsky for the snack bar.  Being on a big league field, hanging out in a Major League clubhouse, doesn’t offer that kind of access for a player and/or his daughter(s).

And then, how do you explain to your daughter that your relationship with your son is worth $13M?  I am sure some mental health professional out there would say that at least part of that $13M would have been handy for therapy down the road.  But I digress.

At the end of the day, how Adam and Jennifer LaRoche raise their children is their choice, and our feelings on the matter stop at the end of our fingers (regardless of how much they may be waived or wagged).  And Adam’s decision to walk away from $13M was well within his rights (and, not to be said too loudly, much to the benefit of the Pale Hose).  And how Montana LaRoche deals with her father – not to mention her brother – is her concern.  All I know is what would and would not fly in my house.

So when I think of my relationships with my kids, and I think about Drake and Montana LaRoche, I couldn’t be happier that I have already planned a father-daughter trip with my girls this summer (to Chicago, natch).

PLAY BALL!!

THE GOOSE IS LOOSE

If you even tangentially follow baseball, by now you probably have heard about Rich “Goose” Gossage’s tirade about the current state of baseball.  If you don’t have the time to listen to an old man shouting “get off my lawn”, allow me to provide you with just a handful of highlights:

Goose’s take on front offices:

“The game is becoming a freaking joke because of the nerds who are running it.  I’ll tell you what has happened, these guys played Rotisserie baseball at Harvard or wherever the fuck they went and they thought they figured the fucking game out.  They don’t know shit”.

Um, sorry, Goose.  All evidence is to the contrary.  I think the fine folks in New England are pretty happy with Theo Epstein’s Yale education and the two rings he brought to Fenway.   People in Dallas seem pretty satisfied with the Cornell-educated Jon Daniels.  And, just for giggles, the “old school” General Manager of the Mets, a guy who has been in baseball since 1983, Sandy Alderson has degrees from both Dartmouth and Harvard.

(Side note: Of the 30 current GMs, there are 4 Harvard graduates, 2 each from Cornell and Dartmouth, and 1 from each of Princeton and Penn.  There are also grads of MIT, Amherst, Georgetown, and Wesleyan, 2 law degrees from Harvard, 2 MBAs from Northwestern, and a Ph.D. from Berkeley.  Time will tell how good – or bad – they are at their jobs.)

I guess it is fitting that Goose made these remarks this week, as the MIT Sloan Sports Analytics Conference kicked off today – this is its 10^th year.  Someone, somewhere, thinks the nerds have something valuable to add to the conversation.

And then Goose took on current players:

“[Jose] Bautista [he of the epic bat flip in Game 5 of the ALDS] is a fucking disgrace to the game” and “he’s embarrassing to all the Latin players, whoever played before him”.

Now, putting aside Goose’s bona fides as a mouthpiece for all Latin players, these are pretty strong words that don’t reflect reality, at least with respect to embarrassing other players.  Jose Bautista is well-respected in the baseball community – by players of all nationalities.  Apparently, Goose has learned a thing or two from Donald Trump – if you say it, it must be true.  But I digress.

And some special vitriol was saved for ESPN The Magazine’s Baseball Preview Edition’s cover story, the reigning NL MVP, one Mr. Bryce Harper.  What did ol’ Rich have to say about arguably the best player east of the Mississippi:

“What does this kid know?  This kid doesn’t know squat about the game, and [has] no respect for it . . . So let me tell Bryce Harper something: go look at the history, figure it out and quit acting like a fool.”

Well, okay then.

But it wasn’t just players, it was the game itself that Goose has a problem with:

“You can’t slide into second base.  You can’t take out the fucking catcher because Posey was in the wrong position and they are going to change all the rules.  You can’t pitch inside anymore.  I’d like to knock some of these fuckers on their ass and see how they would do against pitchers in the old days.”

Fair point.  But if that is what he wants, then he has to get the inverse.  I would like to see how Rich would react if Giancarlo Stanton charged the mound after being “knocked on his ass”.  Goose was 6’3” and threw hard; but he was about 180 pounds.  Stanton rolls out at 6’6” and 240.  How about Yasiel Puig?  I don’t think he would take too kindly to being brushed back by the ‘stache.  How would Goose fare when 6’2” and 255 pounds of Cuban fury came out of the batter’s box at full tilt?  But those are the extreme examples.  Let’s take a middle infielder – the days of Bucky Dent being prototypical are over.  What if Troy Tulowitzki and his 215 pounds looked askance at Goose?  I am not saying that Goose wouldn’t throw down – there is no question he would.  I am just saying that the outcome may not be too pretty.

Now, for some context.  Goose was doing a radio interview and he was asked to respond to comments that Bryce made in said ESPN The Magazine.  That is when the Goose got cooked, and Mount Goosuvius erupted.  So what, exactly, did Bryce say to cause this type of reaction:

“Baseball’s tired . . . It’s a tired sport, because you can’t express yourself.  You can’t do what people in other sports do.  I’m not saying baseball is, you know, boring or anything like that, but it’s the excitement of the young guys who are coming into the game now who have flair.  If that’s Matt Harvey or Jacob deGrom or Manny Machado or Joc Pederson or Andrew McCutchen or Yasiel Puig – there’s so many guys in the game now who are so much fun.”

He went on to say:

“If a guy pumps his fist at me on the mound, I’m going to go, ‘Yeah, you got me.  Good for you.  Hopefully I get you next time.’  That’s what makes the game fun.  You want kids to play the game, right?  What are kids playing these days? Football, basketball.  Look at those players – Steph Curry, LeBron James.  It’s exciting to see those players in those sports.  Cam Newton – I love the way Cam goes about it.  He smiles, he laughs.  It’s that flair. The dramatic.”

Apparently that was a bridge too far for a guy who played it old school in the ‘70s and ‘80s.  But, putting all hyperbole aside, this is just an age-old generational question.  I am sure Early Wynn and Warren Spahn would have had a few words to say about Gossage and Guidry.

Which brings us to the big question of the day, and one I have asked in this space enumerable times, especially on generational issues: What about the kids?

With Little League opening days this, or this past, weekend, with high school and college seasons already under way, what do we tell the kids?  There has to be some happy medium between sharpening your spikes and drilling guys who “disrespect the game” and guys flipping their bats on flyouts to the warning track?  Do pitchers have to be docile when striking out the clean-up hitter with two outs and two on in a one-run game?  Do hitters have to simply put their heads down and circle the bases when they hit a game-tying homerun in the bottom of the 8^th?

This is a very tricky topic for me because I can see both sides.  I like to think that I was taught to play the game the “right way”.  What do I mean by that?  Well . . .

• Never walk in front of the catcher to get into the batter’s box (always walk behind).
• Never run across the mound on your way off the field.
• Try to run out every ground ball or pop out (admittedly, I wasn’t always successful at that).
• Slide hard into second base, but never with spikes high and always within arm’s reach of the bag.
• As a first baseman, this was even more personal: Never intentionally step on a fielder’s foot or hand.
• I did slap down a hard tag – and would expect the other team to reciprocate (as an aside, and opposing coach once came up to me after a game and said/threatened, “payback’s a bitch”).
• Always bring teammates their glove and hat between innings (and expect them to do the same).
• Because I didn’t hit many homeruns, I never had a bat flip or a Cadillac trot (but, had the moment called for it and it was a no-doubter, I am sure I might have had a little Ricky in me).
• I did show emotion on the field.  I was definitely known to slam a helmet or throw a bat – but those were out of frustration, not to show anyone up.  It seems that even The Goose would be okay with those infractions.

But I am on the fence because I also recognize that the landscape has changed.  Today we have social media (even in Little League games, friends film each other and then immediately post the outcomes on Instagram); we have branding; we have ESPN, Top Plays, and Web Gems.  We live in a slam-dunk, chest-thump, fist-pump, bat-flip world, and – regardless of what Goose Gossage (or Oscar Robertson (if you don’t know this reference, Google “Oscar Robertson Stephen Curry”)) have to say – that genie ain’t going back in the bottle.

So, again I ask, what do we tell our kids?

Well, I think we tell them to play the game the right way.  We tell them to enjoy the game, and everything associated with it.  And we tell them that emotions on the field are okay as long as (a) they are appropriate to the situation, (b) they don’t show up the other team/players, and, most importantly, (c) they are not pre-meditated.

If your kid is practicing his bat flip during BP, nip that in the bud.  If your star pitcher is staring down opposing hitters in a pre-season game, give him the hook, pronto.

But if your player just hit the walk-off homerun in front of friends and family on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, let that kid go crazy.  And not because Jose, Manny, or Hanley do it, but because – in the moment – his/her emotions took over.

Does Goose begrudge the 1:00 mark of this video:

And if your kid just struck out the other team’s best hitter with the bases loaded on that same Spring day, let him go a little Max Scherzer, a little Jose Fernandez, a little Jonathan Papelbon (okay, maybe just a little Pap).

And the next time ol’ Rich opens his mouth about the “good old days” and “in my day”, ask him about his former teammate Reggie Jackson . . .

(Enjoy Howard Cosell, and then check the reaction at the 1:15 mark)

And then show Goose this clip from 1987:

And then, in the words of Brian Cashman regarding another Yankee legend, tell Goose to “shut the fuck up”.

PLAY BALL!!

TRANSCENDENT STARS

Every few years baseball is graced with a couple of transcendent stars.  Merriam-Webster would tell you that “transcendent” means “far better or greater than what is usual”.  When we – as baseball fans – discuss transcendence, we talk about players whose names span the ages – players who can easily be dropped into the “best of a generation” conversation.

Now, I won’t bore you with a litany of players who have fit this description over the years – you all know who they are, and most have plaques in Cooperstown – but I do want to focus on two transcendent stars.

When I was a kid, when I first really became interested in baseball – as a fan, not as potential T-Ball player – there were a few transcendent stars – Brett, Ryan, Rose, Carlton, Schmidt, Guidry, arguably Winfield.  But the guy who jumps to the top of any such list – for me – is Pops.  Can anyone think back to late-70s baseball and not picture Pops Stargell leaping in the air after the last out of the ’79 World Series?

Who could forget Willie being the first to hit a ball out of Dodger Stadium?

Is anything more 1970s than that bear of a man in stirrups, a bright yellow pullover jersey, wearing a skull cap, and playing on cheap Astroturf?

Willie Stargell was more than a once-in-a-generation player.  He was a once-in-a-lifetime man.  In 1988, Willie became only the 17^th player inducted into the Hall of Fame in his first year of eligibility.  And yet, even after hitting 475 homeruns, being a seven-time All-Star, and winning the 1979 NL MVP, the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette’s obituary for Willie stated that “his numbers were dwarfed by his humanity”.  High praise, indeed.

Starting about midway through the 1978 season – Willie’s 17^th in the big leagues – he began handing out “Stargell Stars”.  A Stargell Star was bestowed upon teammates for their exceptional performance.  And more than any perfunctory “Attaboy”, this was the equivalent of a hug from Dad or a smile from the Prom Queen.  This was ultimate prize for players playing for the ultimate prize.  Day after day and night after night, Willie’s teammates sought to be recognized by the big man so that they could add another “gold star” to their pillbox hats.

And even though the ’78 Pirates fell short on the final day of the season, Pops kept this tradition going the next year.  And, while not exactly scientific, I believe it was the Stargell Stars that catapulted the Buckos to 1979 World Series title.

In recent years, with exclusive branding and licensing deals and corporate sponsorships and a more global sport, baseball has imposed strict limitations on what players can put on their hats, jerseys, and other equipment.  In the theater of the absurd, MLB told the Yankees and the Mets that they could not wear NYPD or NYFD hats in games after 9/11.  You want corporate concerns run amok: MLB physically took caps from the Mets’ dugout on the one-year anniversary of 9/11 to keep the players from wearing them.  All the while, the New Era American Flag cap that the Mets were required to wear that day was being sold at the ballpark for $36.99.  Nothing like a little free-market patriotism.

But I digress.

When word got out that the Pirates would dust off their pillbox hats for Sunday home games this season, Todd Radom (if you don’t know him, but you love sports and logos, look him up @ toddradom.com) suggested that the Pirates also bring back the Stargell Stars.  And that is where transcendent players come back into the conversation.

As we enter the 2016 season, the Pirates are lucky enough to have one of the most transcendent stars in the game patrolling centerfield.  Andrew McCutchen is on the short list of the best and brightest in the game – both on and off the field.  Here is a five-tool guy who can also sing, draw, do impersonations, and make certain young kids remain fans for life:

While it is too soon to say that McCutchen is the next Pops Stargell in the Steel City, he is quickly approaching that exalted status.  So who better to restart this tradition?  What better way for this generation of players and fans to be tied to a prior generation of players and fans?  Could MLB really stand in the way of joy, happiness, and the rewarding of a job well done?  Will Rob Manfred become Roger Goodell and impose No Fun League-type rules, or will he allow the game to grow and prosper by taking just a small piece of its past and allow it to become a small piece of its present?

Riddle me this: If McCutchen and the Pirates are allowed to bestow Stargell Stars (McCutchen Medals?) starting on April 3^rd, what Little League team in the Rust Belt won’t be donning these emblems on their hats for the rest of the Spring and Summer?  What kid won’t be diving into the hole, or moving a runner to third with less than two outs, or going first-to-third on base hit to right, or working an 0-2 count for a walk, just for the pride of lousy piece of yarn?

All this will do is inspire a younger generation to play, and play better.  All this will do is re-stoke the flame of what makes baseball great.  Forget the huge contracts and the fancy spikes and the packed stadiums.  Kids – both young and older – play for the love of the game, and for the adulation that comes from a playing it right and from playing it well.

So hang a star on that.  Give the Big Kid at PNC Park the right and the ability to dole out this symbol of greatness (no matter how small), and watch those little gold stars light the night sky from Western Pennsylvania to Chavez Ravine, from the Pacific Northwest to South Beach.  Andrew McCutchen is already on record as saying he wants to restart this tradition, he just needs the league to say it is okay.

To that I implore Rob Manfred to

PLAY BALL!

PATIENCE . . . PART 2

As it is written, it is done.

On Friday I wrote about many contracts – and one specifically lacking.  And, over the weekend, that one player got a new deal.  Ian Desmond, he of the turned down 7/$107M offer, took a 1-year deal to play leftfield for the Rangers.  So, he gets to change teams, change leagues, and change positions, all for the right to play on a one-year deal for $3M less than he made last year.  The hits just keep on coming.

This deal was the topic du jour over the weekend, culminating with former Nationals General Manager Jim Bowden saying: “I have never seen a worse contract, ever.”  Strong words indeed.  I think Desmond is a good guy and a good player, so I hope that he plays well and gets a nice multi-year deal next Fall to at least make up for some of that lost money.

After I posted on Friday, I thought more about the deal Dexter Fowler ultimately signed with the Cubs.  Apparently, the sticking point on his deal with the Orioles was that Fowler wanted an opt-out clause after the first season (Yoenis Cespedes got one of those from the Mets, and Scott Kazmir got one from the Dodgers).  The difference is that neither the Mets nor the Dodgers were required to give up a draft pick to sign their respective deals (Cespedes remained with the Mets, and the Astros did not make Kazmir a Qualifying Offer).  For the Orioles to give Fowler $11M to play in 2016, commit themselves to another $22M, give up their first-round draft pick and the money allocated thereto, just to have Fowler potentially walk next November, was a bridge too far.

And, upon further reflection, it may very well be that Fowler got exactly what he wanted, and more:

• He stays with a team he knows.
• He has a better chance to win with the Cubs than the Orioles (even though the Orioles do look to be competitive in the stacked AL East).
• He continues playing CF (in Baltimore, Fowler would have moved to RF because Adam Jones lives in CF at Camden Yards).
• He gets an opt-out after one season (remember, it is a mutual option for Year 2).
• If he utilizes the opt-out, he will make $13M this season (remember, there is a $5M buy-out).
• And here is the kicker: After looking at all of the deals being done, I am sure his agent convinced him that there is no world in which he won’t get him 2/$20M in the open market after 2016. Or, said differently, the worst Fowler could do over a three year period would be 3/$33M.  That sounds a lot like the deal he turned down from Baltimore.

Of course, Fowler is taking a performance risk; he is taking an injury risk; and after seeing Ian Desmond’s deal, he may be taking a market risk.  But, it just may be that having the chance to break the Curse of the Billy Goat was worth all of those risks (oh, and a guaranteed $13M if it all goes to hell helps as well).

Which brings us to the other story of the weekend: Gerrit Cole not being happy with his $10K raise.  A brief explanation: Players with less than three years of service time in the Major Leagues are obligated to accept the contract offered by the team.  Cole has less than three years of service time.  He was paid $531K last season, and was offered $541K this season (as point of reference, the MLB Minimum is $507.5K).  The Pirates claim to have a policy about these types of things, and Cole and his agent (more about that in a minute) think an exception should be made for a guy of Gerrit’s stature and skill level.

It is a valid argument, but one that, upon closer inspection, doesn’t hold water.  Here are just a few reasons why:

• At $541K, Cole is still the Pirates highest-paid pre-arbitration player.
• As a mid/small market team, the Pirates need to count nickels, and not give away C-Notes just to make one player happy.
• Cole received an $8M signing bonus when drafted by the Pirates in 2011.
• In 2013, Mike Trout, in the same position as Cole (but not, because by then he was already one of the best players in baseball and just won the Rookie of the Year Award), received $510K.
• But, the most important reason why this doesn’t hold any water is that Gerrit Cole is represented by the Dark Knight himself, Scott Boras.  Boras nearly always (always?) brings his players into Free Agency, hardly ever (has he ever?) gives a team a hometown discount, and extracts every ounce of value (plus an additional pound or two; see Fielder, Prince in Detroit; Ellsbury, Jacoby in New York; Werth, Jayson in Washington) from an acquiring team.  You can bet that when Cole hits arbitration in 2017, and the open market of free agency in 2020, Boras won’t remember any beneficence on the part of the Pirates in the Spring of 2016.  No, Boras will don a mask, wield a gun, and empty some team’s vault for his prized right-hander.

The last chapter of this book has not yet been written.  It may be that the Pirates cave to the pressure and throw Cole an extra $100-$200K (Boras wanted a deal of at least $650K) just to make him happy.  But they really shouldn’t.  Gerrit Cole is a member of the MLBPA who negotiated the CBA, and he will most certainly be the beneficiary of that CBA in a few years’ time.

Sometimes, young Gerrit, patience is a virtue.

Teams started official Spring Training games today.

PLAY BALL!!

PATIENCE ISN’T ALWAYS A VIRTUE

I try to teach my kids patience.  It is an uphill battle – has been since birth – but I constantly try.

Delayed gratification, I explain to them, is the best kind.  A bird in the hand is only half as much as two in the bush, I calculate for them.  Just wait another minute/hour/day or so.  All good things come to those who wait, I try to reassure them.  I tell them we can walk down the hill and fuck them all.  (Okay, I don’t actually tell them that.)

[**Bonus points if you can pull that reference.  The answer is below.]

But sometimes patience can be its own worst enemy.  Patience isn’t always a virtue.

Take free agents.  Each year I make a mental note of guys who simply “blew it” by being patient, by not taking the bird in the hand.

I started this after the 2008 season, with Jason Varitek and my beloved Red Sox.  The Boston captain was finishing up a 4/$40M contract, and was offered salary arbitration.  By all reported accounts, an arbitrator would have awarded Varitek between $8-$10M for a single season.  Jason and his overlord (er, agent), Scott Boras, decided it would be better to test the free agent market.  Guess what, there were no takers for a 37-year old catcher who hit .220 the previous season.  He then came back to the BoSox, hat in hand.  The Red Sox offered a 1-year deal at $5M, with a team option for the second year at another $5M, or a player option for $3M.  Simply put, Varitek cost himself at least $3M, and potentially $5M, in 2009 alone.  And, in all likelihood, gave the Red Sox the lovely buy-one/get-one free deal, because the Red Sox got Varitek for two years at $10M.  Well played sir, well played.

This issue has come into specific relief the last few seasons with advent of the Qualifying Offer (“QO”).  For the uninitiated, it goes like this: when a player’s contract is over, his current team has the right to make him a Qualifying Offer, which would be a 1-year deal at the average salary of the top 125 players from the previous season.  The player has one week to accept or reject.  If he rejects, he becomes a free agent, and – this is the kicker – any team that signs him must forfeit – to the other team – their highest available draft pick in the upcoming draft.  In addition to losing the draft pick, the acquiring team also loses the dollar allocation that goes with that pick.  So, come June, the free-agent acquiring team will not only have less draft picks, they will have less money to spend on the picks they retain.  In short, there is a high price to pay for any free agent who previously rejected a QO.

In some cases, losing the pick and the compensation is a no-brainer.  If you are spending $200M+ on David Price or Zack Greinke, you are not going to let a little thing like a few hundred grand and a prospect stand in the way.  But, if you are looking at a fringe guy, you will think twice about signing him.

With that as the backdrop, through the 2012 off-season, not only had no player ever accepted a Qualifying Offer, no player had ever felt negative repercussions for not doing so.  That all changed after the 2013 season.  In 2013, general managers started getting smart.

Here is the thinking:

From the current team’s perspective, there is no issue with making a Qualifying Offer.  General Managers live by the credo that there is no such thing as a bad 1-year deal.  You liked the guy enough to pay him last season, so why not pay him again.  If you wouldn’t offer him a deal anywhere near the value of the Qualifying Offer (again, the average of the top 125 salaries), then you let him run off into free agency.  But if he is worth the price, you make the offer and you win either way.  (And, in many cases, you hope he signs elsewhere, as you then get the draft pick and the financial allocation attached thereto).

From the acquiring team’s perspective, you put a great deal of value into your draft picks and your draft dollar allocations.  If the player isn’t worth both the money and the loss of a prospect down the road, you hold your water.

After the 2013 season, teams made Qualifying Offers to 13 players.  Say yes, and the player was guaranteed $14.1M.  Not too shabby.  Some guys decided to roll the dice; and three, in particular, crapped out:

Stephen Drew, coming off a lackluster season with the Red Sox in which he hit .253, thought more than $14.1M was waiting on the open market.  By May he (and his overlord, er, agent, Scott Boras) figured out there wasn’t.  The Red Sox threw him a lifeline and signed him to a 1-year deal at $10.2M.  That would be a loss of $3.9M.  But, it gets worse for Drew.  Since he missed all of Spring Training and had to come in cold in mid-May, he had another lackluster season in 2014.  He was traded midway through the season from Boston to the Yankees (think how bad he must have been for the BoSox to send a player to Bombers mid-season), and hit a swarthy .162.  The Yankees resigned him for 2015 for $5M (a gift).  Drew, too, liked the buy-one/get-one concept, as he could have played 2014 for $14.1M, but chose to play 2014 and 2015 for $15.2M.  Poorly played sir, both in the boardroom and on the field.

Maybe playing in Seattle is really that bad.  How else to explain that Kendrys Morales could have stayed in the Pacific Northwest and earned $14.1M in 2014.  Instead, he played the field.  On June 7^th, the Twins finally threw him a life raft, and signed him for $7.4M.  He did hit .218 with 8 homers, so that worked out pretty well.  And you want the best irony: six weeks after he signed, the Twins traded Morales back to the Mariners.  Enjoy Starbucks, Kendrys, you just have $6.7M less to spend at Pike Place Market.  (Ed. Note: Morales was also represented by Scott Boras in this catastrophe.)  (Ed. Note #2: I guess Morales got the last laugh, as he signed with the Royals in 2015 and won the World Series.  That said, he got paid $6.5M in 2015; another 2 for the price of 1 deal.)

The Boom Stick was also feeling his oats after the 2013 season.  The Rangers offered Nelson Cruz $14.1M to play mediocre left field and hit homers in North Texas for another season.  Cruz said no.  When no multi-year offers were forthcoming, Cruz accepted a 1/$8M deal with the Orioles.  Simple math: Cruz left $6.1M on the table.  He did end up leading the league in dingers, and got himself yet another qualifying offer of $15.3M, which, of course, he turned down.  He eventually signed a 4/$57M contract with the Mariners, so I guess all’s well that ends well.

Talk about your life lines.  The Royals went way outside their comfort zone after the 2013 season (remember, this was pre-World Series appearances), and made a Qualifying Offer to Ervin Santana.  Santana said no, and went to market.  Unfortunately for him, the market was closed.  A month into Spring Training, the Braves offered Santana a 1-year deal at, you guessed it, $14.1M.  Literally/financially, nothing lost/nothing gained.  Incidentally, the Braves finished 17 games out of first place; the Royals went to the World Series.  I hope Santana enjoyed his baseball-free October.

After the 2014 season, 12 Qualifying Offers were made, and none were accepted.  Here is a list of the players to whom QOs were made, and the deals they eventually closed:

• Max Scherzer: Turned down the Tigers, signed with the Nationals for 7/$210M
• Victor Martinez: Turned down the Tigers, but then re-negotiated with them and closed at 4/$68M
• Hanley Ramirez: Turned down the Dodgers and suckered the Red Sox into 4/$88M
• Pablo Sandoval: For reasons that may never be known, rejected the Giants QO and then the Giants $100M offer, and signed with the Red Sox for 5/$95M
• James Shields: Everyone expected Shields to be the first player to accept a QO, but he declined, and signed with the Padres for 4/$75M
• Russell Martin: The Pirates broke their bank in an attempt to retain Martin, but he chose to go home to Canada for 5/$82M
• Nelson Cruz: This guy’s got nothing on Kenny Rogers (the singer) – he gambled again, and, as stated above, was rewarded with a 4/$57M deal with the Mariners
• David Robertson: Bailed on the Yankees and signed with the White Sox for 4/$46M
• Ervin Santana: Like Britney Spears, he did it again; this time he got what we wanted: 4/$55M with the Twins
• Francisco Liriano: Rejected the QO, but worked out a 3/$39M deal with the Pirates
• Melky Cabrera: Turned down the Blue Jays, and chose the White Sox for 3/$42M
• Michael Cuddyer: This one is fascinating.  Coming off a 4/$42M deal with the Rockies, he received a QO, and turned it down.  He ended up signing a 1-year deal with the Mets for $8.5M, and then retired.  Granted, he made more than $79M in his 13-year career.  But who couldn’t use an extra $6.8M as they ride off into the sunset?  Apparently Michael Cuddyer, that’s who.

Finally, after the 2015 season, some players (agents?) started to wise up – but not that many.  Teams made 20 Qualifying Offers, and 17 were rejected.  But, that means that 3 players took the money and stayed:

Matt Wieters of the Orioles was the Jackie Robinson of Qualifying Offers.  Coming off of Tommy John surgery, the catcher decided $15.8M for a season in the comfy confines of Baltimore, rehabbing and getting himself in position for a bigger payday, made a lot of fiscal sense.

Colby Ramus quickly followed suit with the Astros.  He has bounced around a bit (3 teams in 8 seasons), worn out some managers (see, LaRussa, Tony), but then found a home on Tal’s Hill.  $15.8M with a team that has a great shot of winning its division was a safe bet.

Brett Anderson decided, after going 10-9 with a 3.69 ERA, to take Guggenheim’s $15.8M to stay in Southern California.  Seems like a good choice – especially since (a) there weren’t (m)any suitors and (b) he may be one of the best (of the bleak list of) free agent pitchers available next season (after Stephen Strasburg, the quality falls off precipitously).

Which brings me to my favorite story of this young season, and the inspiration for this post: the curious and costly case of one Dexter Fowler.  Fowler roamed centerfield for the Cubbies last season, and got a taste of success with this young core.  Theo Epstein offered Fowler $15.8M to do it again in 2016; Fowler said no.  And then no one called.  After pitchers and catchers reported, there was word that Fowler’s patience was about to be rewarded: the Orioles were going to give Fowler a 3/$33M deal.  But then, out of nowhere, Fowler resigned with Cubs – for WAY less money.  The Orioles were mad – they thought they had a deal; the Cubs were ecstatic – they saved a bunch of money (see below); and reporters and teammates were confounded – they were all duped.

If, during the first week of November, Fowler had simply said “yes”, he would be paid $15.8M for this season.  But, as we know, he didn’t.  Instead, four months later, he decided to take that same 1-year deal, but just for $7.8M less.  What?!?  The deal has a mutual option for 2017 at $9M, and a buyout of $5M.  So, in essence, Fowler could get $13M for this season, and still be a free agent next season (i.e., only a loss of $2.8M (not counting the time value of money)); or he can be paid $17M for 2016-17, or just $1.2M more than he would have received for 2016 alone.  And his agent had the temerity to send out an incendiary press release about the deal!?

Fowler may be happy to be “home” and playing for history, but I am sure he would rather be doing that with another $7.8M in his pocket over the course of the next few months.

And just when you thought it was safe to go back to the diamond, we have the case of Ian Desmond.  Desmond turned down $15.8M to play SS for the Nationals in 2016.  Spring Training is now two weeks in, and Desmond is still looking for work – he is unsigned.  Oops!!  Oh, and it bears mentioning that after the 2013 season, Desmond turned down a 7/$107M offer from the Nats.  He thought it made more sense to sign for 2/$17.5M, and keep his options open.  Double oops (actually $89.5M oops)!!

Hisashi Iwakuma turned down the $15.8M QO from the Mariners, and thought life was good with the Dodgers.  The Bums were going to sign him for 3/$45M, but then he failed his physical.  The Mariners took him back for $12M.  Net loss, $3.8M.

Howie Kendrick turned down the Dodgers’ QO, tested the market, and got no takers.  He resigned with the Dodgers for 2/$20M (or, just $4.2M more than he would have gotten for 2016 alone).  But, alas, there is always a kicker.  The Dodgers 2-year deal actually has deferred money, with no interest.  Howie gets $5M/year over four years.  Thus, Kendrick is playing 2016 for $10.8M less than if he had just said “yes”.

Axl Rose preached “just a little patience”.  But some of these guys have been walking the streets at night, just trying to get it right, and they have failed . . . miserably.

Now, don’t shed any tears for any of these millionaires; and maybe these decisions seem inconsequential when you have eight figures in the bank.  But I still don’t understand (a) how players let these things happen and (b) why more agents aren’t fired every season.

Okay, now we all have to go back to our pedestrian lives, spend $109 to renew our MLB.TV accounts, and get ready for that underpaid umpire (average salary: $120-$350K/year) to say:

PLAY BALL!!

p.s.  The answer to the trivia question can be found here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHcoMMaW2ZU

THE ONLY CONSTANT IS CHANGE

The season ended November 1^st, just 114 days ago.  In some ways, it feels like yesterday; and in other ways, it feels like a lifetime ago.  But one thing is certain, as players report to training camp, your team, my team, your buddy’s team, your rotisserie team (Millenials, look it up), won’t look the same.

Not counting free agent signings, since November 5^th, there have been roughly (sometimes the deals are split into multiple parts) there have been 62 trades involving roughly (again, it is not an exact science) 161 players.  Said differently, it was as if each team completed at least two trades, and more than six full 25-man rosters turned over, in 3½ months.  You may want to read the SI Baseball Preview issue (that is the one that comes after the decidedly non-sports edition) a little more carefully this year.

As the players take the fields across Arizona and Florida, you may need more than a scorecard to keep track of all the new names on the backs of all the new uniforms.  By October of each season, we feel solid in our knowledge of the teams and the players on the field.  But then the World Series ends, and the off-season begins.  The Hot Stove has become a rite of passage, another integral part of the game.  Do any of us long for the time when the Reserve Clause was in effect and we knew who would show up each Spring because they were on the roster the previous Fall?  The business of baseball has become so huge, so costly, so treacherous, that teams need to continually make upgrades (see, Red Sox, Diamondbacks, Giants, et al.) or persistently make downgrades (see, Phillies, Brewers, Braves, et al.).

In short, the only constant is change.

The subtitle of this Blog is “Baseball as Life”.  With Spring upon us (at least in Florida, Arizona, and Southern California), and baseball season knocking on the door, and with the litany of things going on in my life, lately I have been spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about life . . . and change.

Whenever I meet a parent-to-be, I give them the cold, hard truth that (a) the first three months after birth will suck, no matter what, and (b) as soon as you get the hang of any given phase, your child will move out of that phase and you will start anew.  As with your favorite baseball team, in parenthood, the only constant is change.

The books we buy for our overly-coddled, pillow-protected, helicopter-hovered children try to explain that “change is strange”.  But kids are resilient; they adapt and move on.  It is us parents that need to read those books.

I remember a few years back when I was lamenting that a nanny who had been with our family for many years intended to leave.  “How will the kids react?” I wondered.  But, really, it wasn’t the kids I was worried about . . . it was me.  How would I cope with a new person in my home, fixing our meals, driving my kids?  The kids, they were fine – change wasn’t strange for them; change was strange for me.

As with a new starting pitcher or a new lead-off hitter, we must deal with the changes that happen around us each and every day.  Because we are “old” and set in our ways, each change feels monumental.  However, our kids live in a world of constant change – change doesn’t faze them.  Kids are less dogmatic and more willing to accept something new, so change isn’t strange, it is just part of who and how they are.  They see changes every day: they attend new schools; girls they have known since pre-school now have boobs; boys they used to bathe with now have hair in different places and deeper voices; they have new coaches and new teammates.  Change is their constant, and they just roll with it.

But every so often, changes occur that have a lasting impact – on both us and our kids.  Recently I (and friends and family) have been touched by many life events – both mitzvahs and misfortune.  In just the past few weeks, I have attended a bar mitzvah, hosted a bar mitzvah, attended a funeral, paid respects at a Shiva house, and visited a dear friend in the ICU.  Each one of these “experiences” represented a major life event, and represented a life-change, writ large.  These changes were both strange and scary.

This isn’t Greinke signing with the Diamondbacks or the Yankees getting Chapman for the bullpen – these were life and death situations that adults – let alone kids – have a hard time dealing with.

Every night for what seemed like two weeks I would come home spent.  I must have looked as haggard as I felt, as my kids repeatedly asked “what’s wrong?” and “are you okay?”.

But how do you explain to a child that their friend’s father passed away, without raising all sorts of fear in them – especially when this man’s death brought up all sorts of fears in you?

How do respond when your child – with bright-eyed optimism – asks if the friend you visited in the hospital is getting better?

How do you conceptualize the idea that “giving up” is sometimes noble and dignified, and not cowardly or weak?

How do communicate the pride you feel watching your child on the Bima, knowing all of things you know, but are simply incapable of putting into words.

As we watch our children grow and reach certain milestones, we kvell at their accomplishments.  But when we step back and realize how much time has passed since _________ (fill in the blank), we cannot help but get slapped in the face by the backhand of mortality.

And, as good parents, we must address our own mortality in private, away from our kids, so as to protect them from unnecessary concern or worry.  Dealing with aging is not a change that our kids cotton to; seeing a parent move more slowly, or not be able to participate like they used to, or creak as they get off the couch, are not changes that our kids just accept.  Seeing a parent get sick, and have to go to the hospital, and take all sorts of medicine, is not okay to kids.  It scares them.  And it disconcerts us.  And so are the days of our lives.

The seasons change, the players change, the uniforms change, and our connection with our kids change.  And maybe the start of the new season is – like Spring itself – an opportunity for renewal, for a fresh start; a chance to knock that rust off our relationship with our kids and figure out how to deal with the “new” them.  I blinked and my little boy was wearing a suit and tie and carrying the Torah.  I know I will blink again and he will be wearing a mortar board.

I often joke that my life feels very much like Groundhog Day.  The days bleed into each other, the weeks become months, the months become years.  But, without me even knowing it, slowly, incrementally, everything is changing.  While it may all feel the same, in fact, the only constant is change.

So go home, grab a pencil, and mark your kids’ heights in the door jamb – you will be shocked at what you see.

And then grab the latest issue of Baseball America, or SI, or Baseball Prospectus, and see what changes happened since the Royals hoisted the World Series trophy on November 1^st – you will be shocked at what you read.

And then grab your kid, a beer, and a dog, and settle into the bleachers (or box seats, if that’s how you roll), and enjoy another season of the greatest sport on Earth.  Because, even in a world where the only constant is change, some things simply don’t: the smell of the grass, the crack of the bat, and roar of the crowd . . . and for one more season, the sound of Vin Scully’s voice.

42 days until we officially hear:

PLAY BALL!!

THINK OF THE CHILDREN!

Another January, and another life-changing day for a former Major Leaguer.  And another day, week, month (?) of hand-wringing over the votes, the voting process, and the eventual end of the world as we know it because some former athlete (?) won’t be honored on a hot summer day in upstate New York.

Too many words have been written – over the past few weeks especially – regarding the Hall of Fame and PEDs and protectors of the game and morality police and integrity clauses, etc., etc. for me to think I can add anything interesting to the canon.  And yet, I do.

We have heard from esteemed writers, analysts, and pundits about why the Rule of 10, about why the 10-year limitation, about why the 5% threshold, about why the now-ever-so-important integrity clause, are all shams, and merely in place to keep deserving players out of the Hall of Fame.  By and large, I agree with most of the theories.  A quick rundown for those of you not steeped in the inner workings of Hall of Fame voting rules:

The Rule of 10 is ridiculous for the simple reason that, in some years, there are more than 10 deserving candidates.  A writer shouldn’t have to make some Job-like decision as between equally qualified players just to fit within a 10-person box.  And if people are really worried that opening this up to a simple “Yes” or “No” vote will throw open the Hall’s doors to David Eckstein and Mark Grudzielanek, the 75% requirement should quell their concerns (Ed. Note: A player needs to be on at least 75% of the ballots to gain entry.)

The 10-Year Limitation, when read in conjunction with the Rule of 10, disqualifies certain players just when they are getting some momentum for potential induction.  Do you believe Edgar Martinez will get an additional 32% of the votes over the next 3 years – especially when he is competing with other players within the Rule of 10?  The old rule allowed for 15 years of eligibility, and it was no skin off the Hall’s back to keep that in place.  The new Rule of 10 has created a logjam of potentially worthy players, and, by definition (rule), some players get left off.  Which leads to . . .

I can live with the 5% threshold (i.e., a player must appear on at least 5% of the ballots to remain eligible), but it does have Draconian consequences.  Do I think Jim Edmonds is a Hall of Famer?  No.  But I think he merits a discussion for more than one vote.  Well, that ain’t gonna happen, as he only appeared 2.5% of the ballots in his first year, and so he will no longer be part of the discussion/vote.

With respect to the integrity clause, see below (filed, in most instances, under “hypocrisy”).

But let’s not deal with the rules, as those have been covered ad nauseum.  One angle that has not been hit (hard enough?) is the kids.  And while it may be cliché, I must implore the Hall of Fame and the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) to “think of the children!”.

As I have written here before, I view the Hall of Fame as a baseball museum.  And I am not alone in that assessment.  You know who else believes it is a museum?  The National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.  It is right there in the title.

And, in case there was any confusion, their home page specifically states: “The National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum is a not-for-profit educational institution dedicated to preserving the history of the game, honoring its outstanding contributors and connecting generations of fans.”

Based on the foregoing, it begs the question as to why the HoF Board of Directors, and more importantly, the BBWAA, feel the need to be the protectors of the game?  Why do individual writers take it upon themselves to decide – for themselves – who has the right to be enshrined in the hallowed halls?  Why hasn’t the Hall of Fame stepped in to formally instruct the BBWAA that its writers are required to abide by both the rules (see above) and the Hall’s mission statement?

Since they haven’t, I will.  If any member of the BBWAA is reading this, allow me to break down the Hall of Fame’s exact words (shout out to Greg Brady):

I.  The Hall of Fame is an educational institution.  Taken to the most absurd extreme, the HOF is a little red school house where adults and children alike can go to learn about this great game.  And even better, there are no tests or rulers to the backs of hands.  It is a giant classroom.  And it is up to us – as parents – to make sure that the lessons taught within those walls resonate with our children; and that responsibility does and should require that we parse through the good and bad, and explain the difference.  We parents don’t need stodgy writers doing that work for us.

II.  The Hall of Fame is dedicated to preserving the history of the game. Maybe it is written in invisible ink, but I cannot see where it states that the HOF is dedicated to preserving only the positive, feel-good, highly moral history of the game.  Do our kids’ history classes take Thomas Jefferson out of textbooks because he engaged in activities (slave-ownership) that we find morally repugnant?  No, because it is our nation’s history – for better or worse.  How about the massacre at My Lai?  Do we just pretend that never happened?  And more on point, Babe Ruth (drinker, lothario), Ty Cobb (racist sonofabitch), Willie Mays (admitted amphetamine user), Gaylord Perry (admitted cheater – hell, his autobiography is called “Me and the Spitter: An Autobiographical Confession”), and many, many more players who could use a decent Yom Kippur fast have been inducted into the Hall of Fame.  Our past is checkered, and it from that past that we (and, more importantly, our kids) learn important lessons; lessons that can inform and instruct behavior in the future.

III.  The Hall of Fame honors its outstanding contributors.  Without parsing words, how do we define “outstanding”?  If you define “outstanding” as “free from performance enhancing drugs” – as many writers seem to have do on each ballot – then we need to dig deeper and define “performance enhancing drugs”.  We have scads of players in the Hall who took amphetamines, snorted cocaine, and ingested other substances that were technically, practically, and actually illegal.  But, if that is how you define “outstanding”, don’t you have to also define it as “free from illegally getting a competitive advantage”?  We have scads of players in the Hall who admittedly cheated the game (via corked bats, sharpened spikes, loaded baseballs, and the like).

And, before we even get started, I guess we need to define “honor”.  Does “honor” only mean a bronze plaque?  Can “honor” include having key pieces of a player’s equipment in the archives and on display, referencing momentous events and key records?  Because we have scads of memorabilia in the HoF that was once owned and used by the very same players who are now essentially being blackballed from Hall.  Maybe we should take a second to teach our kids a little about hypocrisy.

How do the keepers of the Hall justify having the balls from Roger Clemens’ two 20-strike out games, but not his bust?  How about Barry Bonds’ bats from record-breaking homeruns, but not his plaque?  Do these custodians believe it is okay for the Hall of Fame to honor events in the game but not those who contributed to those events?

IV.  Lastly, a written goal of the Hall of Fame is connecting generations of fans.  So I would ask this question of the gatekeepers: How do I connect my generation with my kids’ generation if an entire era is precluded from admission?  How do I walk your hallowed halls and “connect” my generation with my kid’s generation if the pitcher with the most wins is not there?  If the slugger with the most home runs is not there?  If the hitter with the most hits is not there?  If (and I am forlornly looking 6 years into the future) the guy who was one of the greatest post-season hitters of all time is not there?  Explain to me, denizens of Mt. Pious, how to have a discussion about things that are not there.  When my father was born, the game was segregated; when I was born, players openly smoked in the dugout, snorted cocaine, took amphetamines between innings, and were ostensibly owned by the owners; when my son was born, players were putting up gaudy statistics using every manner of drug under the sun and inside a syringe.  All of that happened.  And no amount of white washing, or Rule of 10, or 10-year Limitations, or “integrity clause” arguments can change that history.  All these restrictions do is disconnect one generation from the next.

I have never been to the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum.  I plan to go this summer for the first time, and I could not be more excited.  However, the experience will be less – how much less I cannot be sure – because it will not have some of the players who need to be there to educate my son, to preserve the history of the game, to connect my generation to my son’s.  In short, the experience will be less because the Hall of Fame – due to the HoF Board of Director’s and the BBWAA’s unique concept of propriety – has failed to lived up to the Hall’s own mission statement, to the Hall’s own standards.

By failing to provide a complete history – warts and all – they have collectively failed to abide by their own integrity clause.

From Mary Poppins to The Simpsons and to countless child welfare tomes in between, “think of the children” has been used in its literal sense to advocate for children’s rights.  So, in that spirit, I ask, no, beg of the Hall of Fame and the Baseball Writers of America to “think of the children!”

Only 34 days until pitchers and catchers report.

PLAY BALL!!

JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN . . .

It’s hard to be a billionaire.  It is increasingly difficult to be the richest guy on the block.  It’s not fair when you have more money than anyone else, and everyone expects you to spend it like a drunken sailor on shore leave.  And despite what people may want, that is not how you run a business (or raise a kid, for that matter).

A whole lot of ink was spilled last week when the Arizona Diamondbacks outbid (?) the Los Angeles Guggenheims for the services of Zack Greinke.  People from far and wide bitched and moaned.  The hordes lamented: “The Dodgers have an $8.35 billion television deal (insert 65% blackout comment here); Chavez Ravine has hosted more fans than any other park each of the past three seasons; the Bums raised ticket prices . . . again.  Any yet, the owners couldn’t cough up an additional $50M to keep Greinke!”

Think about that for a second: just an additional $50M.  Sure that is a lot of money, claimed the experts (read: fans), but it would have been spread over 6 years.  Okay, let’s do that math: that’s $8.3M/year.  Said – or or sung – differently (and keeping with the time of year), the $8.3M/year that people wanted the Dodgers to pay Greinke could buy:

Twelve Gran-dals

Ten Van Slykes

Three Tur-ners

Two A.J.s

More than one Kenleys

More than one Utleys

More than one Ryus, and

a Yas-i-el Pu-ig!

And that is just for 2016.  It’s a crazy world we live in when $8.3M doesn’t seem like much.

Despite what it looks like from the outside, the Dodgers don’t have an unlimited supply of greenbacks that they can throw at anyone and everyone they want.  The Dodgers had a plan, and they executed on that plan.  Just because they can spend that kind of money, doesn’t mean that they should.

Most of us writing/reading this post have a few bucks in our pocket.  We ain’t Guggenheim or Oppenheim or even Haim, but we can afford to buy our son a $200 bat or our daughter a $100 leotard . . . if we want to.  But that doesn’t mean we should.

This is such a world of such consumption that there is an expectation that we will live – at a minimum– to our means, if not beyond.  Aunt Martha died and left you a some money, you should buy yourself a new car.  You had a good year and got a nice bonus, you should go on a cruise.  You changed jobs and now make a few extra dollars, you should take on a larger mortgage.

What ever happened to living within your means?  What ever happened to setting a plan, or a budget, and living within it?  Since when is that a bad thing?

When the Dodgers failed to sign Greinke, the press kept partially-quoting Magic Johnson.  Writers wrote, and rewrote, that Magic said that Zack was the Dodgers’ “number one priority”.  However, that is only part of the story.  Here is the full quote:

“I think we all want him back, but if somebody comes in and does something that is off the charts and we don’t match that, then, you know, he leaves.  We want him back.  He’s our priority — our number one priority in the off-season.”

I guess we can all debate the definition of “off the charts”.  But, for Andrew Friedman and the Dodgers, committing 6 years and more than $200M to a 32-year old pitcher was “off the charts”.  They were willing to give him $155M; they were willing to pay him $31M/year until he is 36.  They were willing to commit more than $60M/year to their top two pitchers.  That was within their plan.

Could have they have spent an additional $50M to secure Greinke and to pacify the fan base – even if that hurt the team long-term – sure.  They have the means to do it.  But just because you can . . .

I have not read a single article – I read a lot, but maybe I missed one – wherein the Dodgers were applauded for fiscal sanity.  No one leapt to Friedman’s defense to say, “Attaboy; well done; way to stick to your guns and keep the organization in mind in the high-stress, high-pressure stakes of a free agent negotiation.”  I didn’t hear a single drumbeat of “that’s why we pay this guy $7M/year, to make hard/smart choices.”  Neither Bill Plaschke nor Mark Saxon nor any other writer went on record praising anything the Dodgers did vis-à-vis Greinke.  Why not?  Are we so hell-bent on winning now that we are willing to sacrifice tomorrow?   That was a rhetorical question.

We all sit in front of our laptops and lament someone (not) spending someone else’s money.  As Andrew Shepherd might ask: “Is the view pretty good from the cheap seats?”

Let me ask you this: When your kids get back to school after the holiday break, and he/she/they tell you all about the iWatches and ioWalks and iPads that their friends found under the Christmas tree, are you going to be saying: “Right on.  That was so good of the Johnsons to spend that money.  I am sure their fans (read: kids) are really happy with that expenditure.”  You might say/think that; and if so, good on you.

But, you might just as easily be saying, “What the hell were the Johnsons thinking?  No 10-year old needs a watch that monitors her heart, receives texts, and changes faces every five minutes; no 12-year old needs a contraption that escorts him – unaided – from the kitchen to the living room to the mailbox and back again.  Sure, the Johnsons can afford to get those gifts for their kids, but just because they can . . .”

Here is my DISCLAIMER to any of my readers who are giving those gifts to their kids this year: How you spend your money is your business.  My point is that you won’t find me on talk radio or in the blogosphere opining on the wisdom of your choices.  With that said, read the following:

http://parenting.blogs.nytimes.com/2015/12/09/what-to-say-to-your-child-when-you-say-no-to-the-hoverboard/?mwrsm=Email

The owners’ meeting have ended, and we now know a few things about the game of baseball:

• The game as a whole is doing really well.  Any team with a new television contract is spending freely.
• Arms are the name of the game, and without an ace, you ain’t shit (see, Red Sox, ca. 2015).
• Teams never learn that long-term contracts are doomed to fail (see, Sabathia, C.C., Crawford, Carl, Zito, Barry, and many, many, more).
• You will never get commended for not spending money.

As per the above, I think the deal the Red Sox gave David Price was absurd.  But, they didn’t have an ace, so they didn’t have a choice.

The days (the ‘70s and ‘80s) when you could get away with 3-year deals for star players is over.  The Red Sox had to do it for numerous reasons, including paying for past sins – before the 2015 season they could have closed Jon Lester for about $100M less than they paid Price.  Oops!  But, if they want to compete in the AL East, they need a horse.  Sometimes that costs too much money and too much time.

As an aside, but definitely worth noting: If Price is awesome in the first three years of the deal, which is essential for this deal to make any sense at all, he will opt out when he is 33, looking for even more dough (see, Sabathia, C.C., Greinke, Zack).  Being a left-handed stud pitcher is like being a Vegas casino . . . you always win.

But the Dodgers already have an ace.  They have the best pitcher on the planet.  To spend crazy money (read: the highest annual salary of any player, ever!) to get a beast #2 doesn’t make sense.  The Diamondbacks were an also-ran in a division dominated by the Dodgers and the Giants; they needed to make a splash (insert Dodgers celebrating in the D-Backs’ pool joke here) and make a huge push if they were going to be relevant and/or have a chance to compete.  So maybe they could justify the move.  If they win the World Series in 2016 or 2017, it will have been worth it.  But, if they crap and never get that ring, and are paying Greinke $35M in 2020 and 2021 (which they are on the hook for), well, let’s talk then.

Does losing Greinke increase the pressure and level of difficulty for Friedman and Farhan Zaidi?  No question about it.  But settle down.  They didn’t low-ball the guy (ahem, Red Sox).  They offered more than any other pitcher alive, save for his teammate.  Arizona backed up the Brinks truck, and Greinke took the money and ran.  As he should have.  The Dodgers shouldn’t be blamed; Greinke (or, more accurately, his agents) should be commended.  It wasn’t until Arizona depleted both its current and its future lineup to get Shelby Miller that their deal-making prowess was called into question.  But, again, they simply rolled the dice.  Only time will tell if that was a gamble worth taking.

With all of that said, the Dodgers better have a plan – more than Hisashi Iwakuma and Chase Utley.  They better have something more up their sleeve then (not) trading for Aroldis Chapman.  They better have purchased plane tickets to South Beach for Yasiel and Joc and Julio, and a suite at the Standard Downtown booked for Jose Fernandez.  Because paying Johnny Cueto nine figures over six years ain’t gonna be enough to either win over the fan base or turn this team into a contender.

But I trust these guys.  They made the right choice on Dave Roberts, they made the right choice on Zack Greinke, and they will make the right choices going forward.  Be patient, o ye of little faith.

That said, I get it.  It’s really hard to root for your team and/or raise your kid in a world where everything is available, and everyone is getting it/that/him, and you/your team/your kid is not.

We should all want our team leaders to be parents, to tell their children (read: fans) “I don’t care what Mikey got, I’m not Mikey’s parent; I’m not responsible for Mikey; and I’m sorry you feel that way.  Now walk your 2015 LeBrons back to your room, put on your Under Armour sweatshirt, and play your X-Box until we are ready to go out for sushi.”

Unfortunately, Andrew Friedman cannot tell the Dodger fans that he is sorry they feel that way, that they should just quiet down, go home, and get ready for Kershaw and Opening Day.  It would awesome if he could.  It would be amazing if he could call a press conference, sit at the dais, and tell the Dodger fans: “Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should.”

But we can do that.  So put that phrase in your back pocket; my guess is it will come in handy in the next couple of weeks.

PLAY BALL!