How Do You Explain PEDs and the Hall of Fame?

Read enough newspapers or watch enough news or listen to enough podcasts, and you are bound to get slapped in the face with poor reportage. It’s the law of big numbers. But, as a discerning baseball fan, I have come to expect that, while I may not agree with all baseball takes and opinions, I believe they come from an informed and considered place. Football analysts shoot from the hip, basketball commentators like to make headlines, but baseball observers are more careful. Or so I believed.

After the Hall of Fame released the results of the BBWAA vote last month, I listened to “The Athletic Baseball Show” podcast hosted by Ken Rosenthal. He had a murderer’s row of guests, and I knew there would be much to discuss regarding Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Curt Schilling, and A-Rod, and, of course, the election of David Ortiz. The show lived up to my expectations up to about the 2:40 mark, when guest Britt Ghiroli said the following:

“Well, David Ortiz still has some ties to PEDs, so how can you let him in and not let Clemens and Barry Bonds in?” And then she referenced a tweet by pitcher Kevin Gausman who asked, “How do you explain this?” And she then opined that a lot of people are left wondering, “How do you explain this?” 

Now, this is by no means intended to be a pile on Ghiroli. I think she is a fantastic reporter and writer, and I find her articles thoughtful and insightful. That said, this issue is not hard to explain. And I was disappointed that not only did Ghiroli not clarify the situation, she perpetuated the question; she gave it life and further validity.

To be fair, I was equally disappointed with Rosenthal, who offered no rebuttal, no explanation. This was all unfortunate, because it is very easy (although slightly time-consuming) to explain. Since neither Ghiroli nor Rosenthal did so, I will.

2003 Anonymous Steroid Testing

In 2003 MLB conducted a random, anonymous test to get a loose idea of who was taking what. Coming off the “chicks dig the long ball era,” with Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa imitating a modern-day Maris and Mantle — just doing it every year — and then with Barry Bonds asking both of them to hold his beer, MLB decided to dip its toe into the murky PED waters.

The results of that test were supposed to remain anonymous; but intent didn’t matter once the names began to leak. Ortiz’s name was included on a list of 104 players who tested positive …  for something. The findings (i.e., what was discovered) were never disclosed and the urine samples have been destroyed (convenient, I know). At the time the names were leaked, the MLB Players’ Association said that 13 of the samples were in dispute, but they didn’t say which ones.

Years later, Commissioner Rob Manfred stated that the inclusion of at least 10 names on the list could be doubted for “legitimate scientific reasons.” He didn’t elaborate, other than to say, “even if you were on that list, it was entirely possible that you were not a positive” (emphasis added). Manfred put a button on the issue by stating that he felt it would be unfair for Hall of Fame voters to use that positive test against Ortiz.

David Ortiz’s Career

When the 2003 test was conducted, Ortiz was entering his seventh year in the big leagues. He had previous highs of 20 home runs and an .839 OPS. Drug testing began in earnest in 2004, with at least two tests per year: one during Spring Training and one during the season, with the possibility of additional random tests as, when, and where determined by MLB. Assuming Ortiz was never called out for additional checks (which he claims he was), he was tested for steroids at least 26 times between 2004 and when he retired. During that span, he hit 452 home runs, and averaged a .956 OPS. And do you know how many times he tested positive for PEDs? To quote Jayson Stark, “That would be none.” 

Spring Trainings and regular seasons, playoffs and World Series. The world was watching every swing he took and every ball he crushed. And yet, other than his name appearing on an anonymous list in 2003, not a whiff of scandal, nary a scintilla of evidence of cheating. Those are the “ties” Ghiroli referenced.

Since Ghiroli mentioned Ortiz in the same breath as Clemens and Bonds, let’s take a look at what makes them different, let’s try to “explain it.”

Roger Clemens

In 2006, then-Commissioner Bud Selig appointed former senator George Mitchell to investigate the use of PEDs in baseball. Clemens’ former strength and conditioning coach, Brian McNamee, told the Mitchell Commission that he provided performance-enhancing drugs to Clemens. But an MLB commission — even one run by a former senator — is not great stakes. So it carried considerably more weight when McNamee put his hand on a bible and testified in front of Congress, and said the same thing.

Sure, McNamee could have been lying. But McNamee also testified that he provided HGH to Clemens’ teammate, Andy Pettitte, and Pettitte later acknowledged that to be true (and apologized for his use). After McNamee’s testimony, Clemens was charged with perjury and obstruction of Congress. Because of the he-said-he-said nature of the matter, Clemens was ultimately found not guilty. But that didn’t stop Clemens and McNamee from filing defamation cases against each other. Clemens’ suit against his former trainer was tossed out and McNamee’s case against Clemens was settled, with Clemens’ insurance company picking up the tab. Both men will likely go to their grave claiming they are right, righteous, and full of rectitude. But only one of these men had a bona fide reason to lie.

Regardless, in contrast to Ortiz, there were credible allegations — made in multiple courts of law and to Congress — that Clemens utilized PEDs during seasons in which he won two of his seven Cy Young Awards (at ages 36 and 39). The main witness who testified against Clemens was proven to be truthful by none other than Clemens’ best friend and former teammate. Those facts seem markedly different from a name on a list. That’s how you explain it.

Barry Bonds

In 2003, Greg Anderson, Bonds’ trainer, was indicted by a federal grand jury and charged with supplying steroids to a number of athletes. Bonds was called to testify before the grand jury, and he admitted to utilizing “the clear” and “the cream,” but claimed they were nutritional supplements, not illegal drugs. Prosecutors did not believe this testimony, and asked Anderson to testify in front of another grand jury to determine if Bonds had committed perjury. Anderson refused — even though a search of Anderson’s home found drug records, including some with Bonds’ name on them — was held in contempt of court, and taken away to jail.

Bonds was indicted for perjury and obstruction of justice, and was convicted on the obstruction charge. That conviction was ultimately overturned by the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals on the grounds that Bonds gave a “rambling, non-responsive answer to a simple question” and that there was insufficient evidence that the statement was material to the investigation. It is important to note what the appeals court didn’t say: Bonds told the truth.

Anderson started training Bonds in 2000, the same year that Bonds set his then-career high in home runs with 49. The next year he hit a record-breaking 73 (at age 37). The following three seasons he hit 46, 45, and 45 (at age 40). Prior to engaging Anderson’s services, Bonds’ season high in home runs was 46, in his age-28 season. Bonds had a then-career high OPS that same season of 1.136. Nearly a decade later, after he started working with Anderson, Bonds had OPS seasons of 1.127, 1.379, 1.381, 1.278, and 1.422.

Bonds’ alleged PED use was the topic of the best-selling 2006 book entitled Game of Shadows, written by San Francisco Chronicle writers Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams. It should be noted that Bonds sued the authors and publisher of the book not for defamation, but over their use of grand jury documents. Bonds didn’t try to clear his name, he didn’t sue in open court that his reputation was in tatters due to vicious lies. Rather, he tried to block the authors and publisher from profiting from ill-gotten grand jury documents.

In contrast to Ortiz, whose name was on a single list leaked to a New York Times reporter, and who the Commissioner has somewhat exonerated, Bonds was involved in multiple state and federal lawsuits, leading to his (overturned) conviction. He was tied to the conviction of at least two of his associates (Anderson and Victor Conte, the owner and founder of BALCO). His name appears in drug files, journals, and affidavits. Although he never failed an MLB drug test, according to the aforementioned indictment, Bonds tested positive for anabolic steroids and other PEDs. I’m sure that Ghiroli, and Rosenthal, know all of this. Yet, they couldn’t “explain it.”

I am not here to say that Clemens or Bonds should or should not be in the Hall of Fame; that was up to the BBWAA writers (and now the Today’s Game Era Committee). What I am here to say is that we — as a society, and with all things — must stop the common practice of false equivalence. Not everything is equal; not all situations are the same.

It is imperative that those we trust with reporting the “facts” understand this, do their research, and be prepared to offer thoughtful and detailed rebuttals when lesser antagonists or clickbait wannabes try to say otherwise. This was a layup for Ghiroli and Rosenthal. They knew the topic ahead of time. No one expects reporters to be perfect, but we expect them to be prepared. Two writers who I truly respect both whiffed, and we are all worse off because of it.

Ortiz was elected to the Hall of Fame because enough writers believed that having your name on a list well before your career took off, followed by nothing but cleanliness as you built your Hall of Fame credentials, is not disqualifying. Clemens and Bonds were not elected to the Hall of Fame because the sum total of the allegations made against them — in court, before Congress, under oath, in affidavits, and in other testimony — was disqualifying.

Britt, Ken, Kevin, that is how you explain it. And please don’t get me started on A-Rod.

PLAY BALL!!

 

MLB’s Middle-Class Isn’t So Middling

I have a great deal of ambivalence about the current lockout. I am, by no means, pro-owner. But that doesn’t mean I am necessarily pro-player, either. And I am really tired of the trite trope of billionaires vs. millionaires. Both sides are right and wrong. Unfortunately, the most intransigent issues are financial, with the players wanting to be paid more, and the owners wanting to pay less. That makes for tough sledding.

There are, of course, many issues on the table beyond the aforementioned financial ones, and those should be considered and fought for as vociferously as the ones related to pay. In fact, possibly even more so. Over the past few seasons, and in the lead-up to the lockout, there was a great deal of focus on the middle-class of players, who are being pushed aside for rookies and their minimum salaries, rather than being paid in the free-agent market. We, as fans, have been told that we are heading down the NBA road of rooting for teams comprised of stars and scrubs, with no in-between. The system is flawed. But how flawed? Who isn’t getting paid?

Last month I wrote about teams giving out raises to players when they have no contractual or, quite frankly, moral obligation to do so. I don’t see the MLBPA complaining about that. For those interested in that story, the article can be found here.

Despite all of the sturm and drang about middle-class players getting squeezed, the numbers don’t necessarily bear that out.

A quick primer: Typically, a player is under team control for the first three seasons, wherein the club can pay that player any salary at or above the minimum. After the player’s third season, the team can: (1) not offer the player a contract, effectively cutting him (known as “non-tendering”); (2) negotiate a new contract, either for one or multiple years (it is normally for one year); or (3) go to arbitration, where a neutral third party decides between the player’s proffered salary and the team’s (in “Baseball Arbitration,” there is no baby to split, it is one or the other).

It is hard to calculate how many arbitration-eligible players suffer the fate of option (1) above. There may be many. But for those to whom no contract is tendered, we can stipulate that the player is either really bad or simply not worth the money. Maybe those players should be squeezed out of the market/league.

If no deal is reached (option (2) above), then the player and team go to arbitration, which is an arduous and somewhat antiquated process. It forces an adversarial confrontation between two parties who, regardless of the outcome, will be on the same side, fighting the same battles, hoping to achieve the same goals, as soon as the proceedings end. It is a zero-sum exercise for a non-zero-sum relationship.

With the lockout, the arbitration process is on hold. But prior to December 2, 36 players settled their contract status with teams before going to arbitration (i.e., option (2) above). I analyzed each one of those 36. 

Players are correct in their thinking that – in the aggregate – the competitive balance tax is being used as a soft salary cap (only the Dodgers and Padres paid the CBT this past season). They are also correct that – in the aggregate – more and more teams are spending less (i.e., tanking) to procure better draft pick placement (total spending in 2021 was down 4% from 2019, and was at its lowest level since 2015). But before the players die on this hill, before they allow the 2022 season to be truncated, resulting in missed paychecks, they need to look at the state of the state, and how players are being compensated.

And, to reiterate, this analysis does not involve free agents, so we can take Max Scherzer and his $43M AAV and Corey Seager and his 10/$325M contract out of the equation. This is just players who teams thought enough of to tender contracts, fearing the heavy hand of an arbitrator. Based on the value of these deals, either owners are very risk-averse or the arbitration system is totally out of control (such that teams fear the outcomes). But either way, these middle-class players are not getting squeezed.

In every case but two, when the players settled, they got a raise. You may think, “okay, we all get an annual raise” (or so we hope). Well, the average raise for these 36 players was 66.6%. Do you get an annual raise of 66.6%?

And I wish I could report that a few massive deals throw this calculation out whack. Nope. The median was 46.5%. One player – Seranthony Dominguez – took a 0.3% pay-cut. That may be because he didn’t pitch last season due to Tommy John surgery. One player – Guillermo Heredia and his 0.3 bWAR – remained static at $1M. The other 34 got PAID.

So now you may be thinking, “well, those other players were most likely very deserving of raises, and it’s not my money, so pay the man.” That would be a fair guess, but far from the truth. Despite the players’ argument that mid-level players are being shoved aside for rookies who can do the job cheaper, the facts – at least in these cases – show something very different.

Of the contracts reviewed, three players received raises in the 4.1%-6.4% range; three players in the 12%-19% range; one player received a 22.7% raise. The highest bWAR of any of these players: Noe Ramirez and his 0.8. 

Of the 14 players receiving raises between 30.6% and 59.4%, only one had a bWAR of more than 1.0 (Lucas Luetge’s 1.5).

But it gets better/worse. Of the players analyzed, the average raise for a player with a negative bWAR was virtually the same as the entire control group: 66.7%. You read that correctly. There were 8 players with negative bWAR – meaning that if a replacement player came along, that replacement player would actually be better than those who received raises. I am quite certain that the MLBPA will not be touting these contracts when lamenting the fate of the middle-class player.

This topic struck my fancy due to a single contract. All season long, as Cody Bellinger got hurt, then hurt again, and then looked totally lost at the plate, the question du jour was “will the Dodgers cut Bellinger?” At season’s end, by bWAR, Bellinger was the fifth-worst player – out of 1369 – in MLB. Now, one season may be an aberration. And he was coming off two injuries that sapped his power. But not his eyesight. And not our eyesight. And, if additional information is needed, here are Bellinger’s wRC+ numbers (with 100 being average) over the past three seasons: 2019: 161 (5th best); 2020: 113 (67th best); 2021: 48 (223rd out of 224 players with at least 350 PA).

But okay, Bellinger is a mainstay in Los Angeles. He plays above-average outfield defense, can fill in at first base, and has speed on the bases. He was a Rookie of the Year and won a World Series and an MVP. So, of course, you tender him a contract and be prepared to go to arbitration. Bellinger was paid $16.1M to compile -1.5 bWAR in 2021. What argument could he possibly make to get a raise for 2022? What arbitrator would have agreed that Bellinger shouldn’t be happy with, at best, the status quo.

I could argue that the Dodgers could and should have offered him $5M and told him to take or leave it. But that is not what happened. Instead, the Dodgers gave Bellinger a raise. Sure, it was on the lower end of the raises in this control group, but it was still a 5.6% bump, which equates to an additional $900K for 2022. Again, this is small by baseball measures, but completely unwarranted. If Bellinger is getting nearly an additional $1M for stinking up the joint all year, who doesn’t get a raise?

More than $1,700,000,000 in contracts were doled out in November prior to the lockout. A cynic might say that the owners did this to soften the players’ argument about salary depression, but that is a seriously risky bet. A different cynic might say that by agreeing to so much prior to the lockout, that there will be very little left when negotiations resume (whenever that happens). But regardless, the deals that have been signed, including those referenced above and the 6 nine-figure deals closed prior to the lockout, cannot be taken back, they are a fait accompli, those players are not getting squeezed, they are getting paid, and paid handsomely.

As we head deeper into this lockout, with pitchers and catchers due to report in less than a month and no progress made on a new collective bargaining agreement, I would hope that the MLBPA focuses on battles they can win with facts and not emotion. There is no reason the Mets should pay a player (Scherzer) more than the total roster for an entire MLB team (Orioles). Teams like the Rangers, Diamondbacks, and Tigers cannot justify having less than $100M in committed contracts, so a salary floor makes sense. So too does a higher CBT threshold. And if the players can raise that tide, it will, ostensibly, raise other boats. Then crack down on service time manipulation, expand the playoffs, make the DH universal, and call it a day/deal.

Get back to the bargaining table with achievable goals, based on real numbers, not perceptions, so that on March 31st we can hear an umpire yell:

PLAY BALL!!

Do Raises Buy Goodwill?

For those of us who follow baseball closely – and one must assume that if you are reading this, you do – we take for granted our knowledge of the business of the game. We know, at a subconscious level, when a player will be eligible for free agency, and what “service time manipulation” means. We understand the significance of opt-outs and the nuances of the competitive balance tax. But the truth is, all of these things that we can recite as easily as “2+2,” are quite arcane to the casual observer. Want proof? Try explaining “Super Two Status” to someone who doesn’t frequent FanGraphs or follow Pitching Ninja on Twitter.

A while back I found myself having drink with my wife, waiting for a table at a local restaurant. A game was playing on the television above the bar. Some player was on the screen – I don’t recall who, but it could have been Walker Buhler or Fernando Tatís (pre-extension) or Rafael Devers. The who is irrelevant. I said to wife something along the lines of: “This guy is one of the best bargains in baseball.” She asked, “Why is that?” And so began a long and complicated discussion about rookie deals, the tendering of contracts, arbitration, and then free agency. Either I explained it very well or she is a quick study, or she is a good enough actress to pretend she understood even when she was too bored to ask for additional details. But she did stump me with one simple question:

If the teams control players for three years before they reach arbitration, why would the teams ever give them a raise?

In response I gave a trite answer about how we all want to be rewarded for our hard work, asking how would we feel if our bosses didn’t give us raises on yearly basis. It was such an innocent question. But it raised such an interesting point.

As ordinary shmos, we want and need to be rewarded for our hard work and we expect a raise each year. Our employers – ostensibly – want to keep us as employees, knowing that the time and cost of replacing a worker is substantial (as companies have learned during the “great resignation”). There is mutuality to the relationship in a standard setting that does not exist in professional sports. If an employer treats its employees well, pays them a decent wage (with reasonable bumps), and provides them with adequate benefits, that employee will theoretically stay. But regardless of how well a team treats a player, he has an off-ramp; a time when he can, and oftentimes is expected to, take his talents to South Beach, or Dallas, or New York. So, if players toil for years to get to get to free agency, to get to a point where they can create a bidding war for their services, it begs my wife’s question: Why do teams bother giving raises?

A quick primer: The typical baseball player is under “team control” for six years (sometimes less, sometimes more, let’s not busy ourselves with those distinctions). For the first three seasons he is under contract, the team is required to pay him the major league minimum ($570,500 in 2021). After seasons three through five, he either negotiates a new agreement with the team or goes to arbitration and pleads his case. After season six, he is a free agent and can go wherever he desires. But every year players are tendered contracts for their second and third seasons with raises built in. Not substantial raises, but usually in the 5-10% range. I imagine we all would be quite happy with raises of 5-10% in a given year. But, again, why do teams do this?

At first blush, one might think that giving a player a raise in Year 2 and/or Year 3 is a reward for a job well done. And nominally, that is what it is. But is there any other point in a player’s career where ownership provides more than what is contractually required (either collectively or individually)? Shohei Ohtani just won the MVP award, banging out an 8.1 fWAR season. According to a 2020 article from FanGraphs, each point of WAR was worth $8M. That number varies on a season-by-season basis, but let’s use that as a basis. According to that metric, Ohtani was worth $64.8M to the Angels last season. Now, one can quibble about paying players on a per-WAR basis. But, one cannot quibble with the idea that Ohtani was worth more to the Angels than the $4.25M the team paid him last season. Near as I can tell, Ohtani doesn’t have any contractual bonuses for receiving any awards. Despite his brilliance and the historic nature of his 2021 season, the Angels will pay him the same $4.25M next year. Why? Because that is what is in his contract; that is all that is required. There will be no “atta boy” 5-10% pay raise for Ohtani in 2022.

We could do the same analysis for hundreds of other players who out-performed their contracts, and yet will not get any raise for their efforts. Players in their first three years of service time are subject to the whims and generosity of their organizations. And, judging from baseball’s middle class and the fact that the owners just locked out the players and issued Kremlin-level propaganda about their decision, it is fair to say that players are not often the recipients of teams’ largesse. So, if teams rarely (if ever) give away anything they don’t have to, why do they (seemingly) always give a raise for Year 2 and Year 3?

Just to put a finer point on it, according to the glossary at MLB.com, “Clubs may choose to sign their pre-arbitration players to one-year deals for more than the Major League minimum to build goodwill for future negotiations, but they are under no obligation to do so.” Which got me thinking: Does buying goodwill ever pay off? How often do player reward their teams by staying with them upon reaching free agency?

Going back to 2015-2016 off-season, I tracked the top twenty free agents for each season, then narrowed the analysis to include only players who spent all (or most) of their pre-free agency years with their original club. These players got the minimum, then got raises for Years 2 and 3, and then did what? Let’s take a look:

Ian Desmond: He played with the Nationals from 2009-2015. When he became a free agent in 2016, he left for the Rangers.

Chris Davis: Davis actually played 193 with the Rangers before being traded to the Orioles, so he isn’t a perfect comp. But since he received a raise from the Orioles in Year 3, and then went through three years of arbitration with the club, it still works. Davis rewarded (?) the O’s by sticking with the club, and signing one of the worst deals in baseball history (7/$161M, which netted the Orioles a total of -2.8 bWAR before Davis retired in the middle of the 2021 season). I am guessing Baltimore wished they hadn’t earned such goodwill.

Jason Castro: He came up with Astros, earned the minimum, and got raises in Year 2 and 3. As soon as he became a free agent, he bolted for the Twins.

Kenley Jansen: Kenley came up with the Dodgers, went through the paces, and then signed a 5/$80M deal. So either the early-year raises paid off, or the $16M/year moved the needle. One will never know.

Wilson Ramos: Was drafted by the Twins, but got traded to the Nationals before he reached the majors. Once he became a free agent, he signed with the Rays.

Eric Hosmer: This may the poster-child for goodwill not being rewarded. Hosmer was drafted third overall by Kansas City in 2008, worked his way through the minors, and began his career at Kaufman Stadium. He received a raise before Year 2, which earned enough goodwill for him to sign three pre-arbitration contracts of $3.6M, $13.9M, and $12.25M. Then he took a $17.4M Qualifying Offer. As a free agent, Hosmer shunned the Royals’ 7/$147M offer to take an 8/$144M deal with the Padres. If it looks like he took a worse deal, that’s because he did. Do you think the Royals might want those raises back?

Lorenzo Cain: Fellow Royal Lorenzo Cain was originally drafted by the Brewers, he played 43 games with the team before being traded to Kansas City. He received raises in Years 2 and 3, and then went back to Milwaukee the first chance he could – when he reached free agency.

George Springer: He came up through the Astros system, won a World Series, and then left the country to sign with the Blue Jays as soon as he had the chance.

DJ LeMahieu: After a cup of coffee with the Cubs, LeMahieu spent his formative years with the Rockies. He reached free agency, took the Yankees’ money, and ran.

AJ Pollock: Pollock came up with the Diamondbacks, took their raises, and then left for the division rival Dodgers once he became a free agent.

Corey Seager: For Dodger fans, it is hard for them to imagine Corey in any other uniform. He was the future. Well, he was until we wasn’t…when he reached free agency and quickly signed a massive 10/$325M deal with the Rangers.

Eduardo Rodriguez: He got two raises, signed three one-year deals, and went to arbitration once with the Red Sox. When he became a free agent, he immediately signed with the Tigers.

Carlos Correa: Time will tell if Correa rewards the Astros for their largesse, but the tea leaves are not pointing in that direction.

Trevor Story: Will Story remain a Rockie? I wouldn’t count on it. Story expected to be traded at the 2021 deadline, and it seems his bags are already packed for parts and teams unknown.

There are, of course, many more players we could analyze, some of whom stayed with their clubs. But, the vast majority of those were because they had no other options. Kenley Jansen and Chris Davis both of whom took massive deals to stay with the original clubs, may be the exceptions that prove the rule. Giving players raises for Years 2 and 3 doesn’t seem to buy (the team) anything. As Bob Sugar so aptly puts it, “It’s not show Friends, it’s show business.” And as these examples prove, goodwill cannot be bought with $25-$50K raises. Which brings us back to the bar and to my wife’s question: Why do teams ever give players a raise?

The answer, unfortunately, is the same as why they changed the formula to Coke: No one knows.

PLAY BALL!!

All I Want for Christmas

It’s that time of the year when champions are crowned and parades are held; when Christmas tree lots spring up seemingly out of nowhere; and stoves get hot. And sure, the stoves may stay tepid this off-season with impending expiration of the current CBA and the expected lockout in December, but that doesn’t mean we, as baseball fans, can’t speculate and create our wish lists.

I, like most of you, am a fanatic baseball fan. And I, like you, follow the sport all year round. But, possibly even more than being a fan of baseball, I am a fan of nostalgia, and origin stories, and people coming home and old friends getting together once again. And this year, with so many free agents with so many compelling possibilities and so many teams with obvious needs, it would be nice if they were all paired with happy endings. So, when I head to my local mall and climb up onto Santa’s lap (does this still happen in a post-Covid world?), here is what I will be wishing for.

Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander are reunited in Detroit. The poor Motor City deserves something to smile about (non-Miguel Cabrera division). After the Malice at the Palace and Darko Miličić, after settling for Jared Goff, after the hollowing out of the rust belt, it would be great if Tigers fans had something great to root for, again. None of Aníbal Sánchez, Doug Fister, or Rick Porcello are available, but no matter. The Tigers have a young crop of power arms (which now includes Eduardo Rodriguez) who could learn at the hip of these aging (but not yet aged) veterans both of whom still have plenty in the tank.

Kris Bryant heads to the City of Brotherly Love to join his fellow Las Vegan, Bryce Harper. According to FanGraphs Roster Resource Depth Chart, the Phillies plan to have Adam Haseley (.190/.190/.238) in left field and Alex Bohm (.247/.305/.342) at third base. Tell me that Bryant isn’t a better option at either position. And with Andrew McCutchen gone, and Nate Fassnacht seemingly ready to get a cup of coffee at either third or in left, Bryant provides a great deal of flexibility.

Javy Báez stays in New York, keeping the Lindor-Báez double-play combo intact. These two are old friends, playing with and against each other on the fields of Puerto Rico, and on the Puerto Rican national team in the World Baseball Classic. Keeping them together will allow them to get past the thumbs down kerfuffle, and could create the most exciting up the middle duo since Omar Vizquel and Roberto Alomar (Cleveland, 1999-2001). Of course, the Mets will need someone in the front office to actually sign Báez, so this may take a while.

The Seager Brothers – Corey and Kyle – head to the Bronx. Sure, the Yankees may be fitted at third base with DJ LeMahieu, but he could easily slide over to first base, splitting time with Luke Voit, while the Brothers Seager handle the left side of the infield. Corey is perfectly suited for Yankee Stadium and its short porch in right, and the Yankees desperately need more left-handed hitting. Both Kyle and Corey grew up Yankee fans idolizing Derek Jeter. Is there a better coda for the Seager boys than taking over the position Jeter played and the position to which he should have moved later in his career?

Oakland needs to resign Marcus Semien. Has there ever been a more perfect Oakland A? Semien grew up in the Bay Area, turned down a draft offer to go to Cal Berkeley, where both of his parents went. He was nothing less than solid for the green and gold from 2015 through 2020. Unfortunately, his breakout 2021 season may have priced him out of Oakland’s market. But if anyone would be willing to take a literal hometown discount, it would seem Semien is the ideal candidate.

Speaking of hometown discounts, if the Braves do anything this winter other than finding the perfect place to display their World Series trophy, it is to resign Freddie Freeman. It is not truly a “hometown” insofar as Freddie is from Southern California, but has anyone since Chipper Jones more/better represented the city of Atlanta and this team? Could you imagine Freddie in any other uniform? He could probably play for another ten years; but even if he can’t, there will be value in having him around the team, at Spring Training, in the press box, well into his 40’s. It might require that the team to break the bank, it might require some additional year ingenuity, and it might require Freddie backing off what he could get from, say, the Rangers, to be in Atlanta on opening day to collect his World Series ring, and to never have to buy a drink in that town again. But there are enough smart people in this equation to figure it all out.

Speaking of players never to be seen in another uniform, and as I have previously written, the Dodgers MUST resign Clayton Kershaw. I don’t care how many years it takes – remember co-owner Magic Johnson once signed a 25-year player/personal services agreement with the Lakers – but something needs to be worked out. My thoughts about this are written in more detail here.

Like Semien, I want Kyle Schwarber to go home again and play for the Guardians. The Middletown, Ohio native, who played his college ball in Indiana and his formative baseball seasons in Chicago, needs to keep his midwest roots and, like Chrissie Hynde, he needs to go back to Ohio. Franmil Reyes probably has the DH slot filled, but Schwarber showed this year that he could be serviceable at either first base or in left field. And with an off-season to work on his infield skills, he even could become average. What is not average is his bat. This season he had a 148 OPS+, with a career OPS+ of 119. He is an on base machine, and makes every clubhouse a better, happier place. In the 2016 World Series, Schwarber went 7-16 at Progressive Field; and for his career, he has a .364/.417/.788 slash line with 4 home runs while playing the “The Jake.”

With Báez in New York, Bryant in Philly, and Schwarber in Cleveland, Anthony Rizzo needs to go back to the Cubs. He belongs there. He is an institution there. Enough with the Yankee pinstripes and the #48. He and Jed Hoyer have been together from the Red Sox to the Padres to the Cubs. And while there will no more “Bryzzo” t-shirts for sale on Waveland Avenue, they will sell plenty of #44 jerseys. His easy smile, smooth glove, and ferocious bat play well on the North Side. And Rizzo doesn’t have any of the service-time manipulation baggage that Bryant carries. The Cubs deserve Rizzo, but more importantly, the Cubs’ fans deserve Rizzo.

And speaking of teams and communities deserving of a player, let’s end this with Chris Taylor going back to Seattle.The Mariners fans never got a chance to witness CT3 in full, with 86 total games and only 68 hits in his 2+ seasons there. But they have witnessed him – from afar – grow up, and they have seen the player that he has become, on the biggest of stages. With the Dodgers, Taylor has shown his versatility, playing above-average all over the diamond. With Kyle Seager gone, Taylor could become an everyday third baseman. Or he may be an even better option at second base than Dylan Moore. Or he could play a different position every day. It doesn’t matter, insofar as Taylor has shown over the past four seasons that any team is better when he is on the field.

That’s it, Santa. That is all I want for Christmas. That, and for the owners and players to come to a quick resolution so we don’t have a protracted labor battle; and that spring training and the season start on time. That’s not too much to ask, is it?

PLAY BALL!!

Rooting for the B-Student

Forget the “banging scheme” or the alleged buzzers or the “it’s my time gestures”, forget Ken Lay and Enron Field, forget Yuli Gurriel’s racist dugout impressions. I am rooting for the Braves in this World Series because I see myself in that team. I was an 88-win student in high school, in college, and in law school. I started slow – albeit better than .500 (or C-level) for more than the first half – but was never in the upper echelon. No one ever looked at my report cards and thought “potential pennant winner” or “one game from capturing the World Series”. No, they saw a student who did fine, even well sometimes. Sure, I was someone who would easily graduate each institution, and find gainful employment, but I was no juggernaut; I wasn’t a 95-game winner (let alone a 107-game winner). I played in the right division and did enough to make it to the next round. And then I flourished; took what I had learned, added a few new skillsets, and rode those to new heights. I allowed my performance on the field (or, more accurately, in the workplace) to speak for more than my middling 88-win academic credentials.

It is easy to root for the sensation, the 2001 Mariners and their 116 wins. Or the Yankees or Dodgers nearly every year. And, of course, I cheered on my beloved Red Sox when they won 108 games in 2018. But it isn’t the same as rooting for the almost dregs, like the 2006 Cardinals. It would be generous to say that that Cardinals team limped in the playoffs and then caught fire. On September 19, 2006, the Red Birds throttled the Brewers 12-2, to move eleven games over .500. They then went 3-9 over their last twelve, which included a seven-game losing streak, to finish 83-78. But that team was more than their GPA. They went on to beat the Padres three games to one in the NLDS, and the 97-win Mets in seven games in the NLCS. That 83-win team then beat the 95-win Tigers in five to capture another World Series. Not bad for a B-student team and their .516 winning percentage.

As has been written in various and sundry places, this year’s Braves took longer to reach .500 than any other World Series team ever. But the team they were is not the team they are. As has been reported ad nauseum, president of baseball operations Alex Anthopoulos reworked the Braves outfield after losing Marcel Ozuna to bad sliding and bad life decisions, and Ronald Acuña, Jr. to a torn ACL. Over the course of two weeks, Anthopoulos acquired Joc Pederson from the Cubs, Adam Duvall from the Marlins, Jorge Soler from the Royals, and NLCS hero Eddie Rosario from the Guardians née Indians. From July 31st to the end of the season, the Braves had the best record in baseball (37-19). But unlike the 2006 Cardinals, the Hammers (one can hope, right?) went 12-2 heading into the playoffs. With that momentum, they beat the Brewers in four and the heavily-favored Dodgers in six, and then jumped out to a 3-1 lead against (say it again) the heavily-favored Astros. And yet, as of this writing, the Braves remain one win away from getting that piece of metal for the first time since 1995.

Sure, listening to the Atlanta (suburbs) crowd drone on with their tomahawk chant is annoying at best and incredibly offensive at worst, and watching the former president sit in one of the Braves’ luxury boxes was somewhat disconcerting. But those are not reason enough not to cheer for the team who overcame mediocrity to get to the precipice of glory. Root for Pederson’s pearls and Rosario’s beard; root for Brian Snitker’s 41 years in/with the organization and Freddie Freeman’s, well, everything. Root for the team whose Game 4 starter had never started a MLB game before that night, got only one out, and yet still won. Root for the Astros to lose a second World Series in three years in their home park. Root for the B-student to achieve success, because we can’t all be valedictorian, we can’t all go to Harvard, we can’t all win 95 games. Sometimes, we need to do just enough, get hot, and ride the wave.

PLAY BALL!!

The Season of Second-Guessing

I guess it’s that time of the year. The leaves turn, the temperatures drop, the intensity heightens, and everyone becomes an expert. Fans have watched their team play for six months, they know their favorite roster backwards and forwards; they even know their opponents strengths and weaknesses. So, from the comfort of their couch, the typical fan –with beer in one hand and remote in the other – grunts, groans, and generally grumbles about the pre-game and in-game decision-making processes.

Take my son, for instance. Sitting behind the Red Sox dugout last Friday night in Houston, my son could not and would not stop lamenting Alex Cora’s decision to use Hirokazu Sawamura in the eighth inning of Game of the ALCS. In retrospect, and in terms of outcome, my son was correct. But, as I explained to him as we walked out of the ballpark, we simply had NO idea what Cora or pitching coach Dave Bush or anyone else in that dugout was considering when that decision was made. As a side note, I told him that one of the downsides of attending the game is that we miss out on the analysis you get from Ken Rosenthal and Ron Darling and Frenchy Francoeur, which is all that more important in the playoffs.

My final comment, as he hung his head and headed to the hotel, was that, at that moment, Cora had managed this team for 168 games, and was 15-5 as a post-season skipper. So, for some reason, I tend to trust his knowledge of the Red Sox pitching staff more than my own, and more than that of my 18-year-old son. He reluctantly mumbled his agreement.

And then there is (at least in my world) the much-maligned Dave Roberts. Depending on who I am talking to, or when, Roberts is either a front-office puppet or an over-manager who makes too many bad decisions. Try as I might, I have been unable to square that circle. To that end, I cannot recall how many texts I received last week when the Dodgers announced Corey Knebel as the NLDS Game 5 starter. “Roberts is screwing up again” my father wrote to me shortly after the lineup was released. My best friend sent an SOS text asking for an explanation. I tried to calmly explain to both – and others – that this was not just Dave Roberts’ call. He didn’t wake up Thursday morning, throw a thumb to the wind, and decide Knebel was his guy. I knew, in my soul, and as someone who follows baseball closely, that this was a whole-of-organization determination. And, much to my chagrin, Buster Olney didn’t help matters on Friday morning’s Baseball Tonight podcast, stating that if the Dodgers had lost, or if Knebel had given up a bunch of runs, Roberts would have had a lot to answer for. Thankfully, his guest, Karl Ravech, quickly made my point, and explained to both Buster and the listening audience that this wasn’t a one-man show.

And thank goodness for Andy McCullough of The Athletic. On Friday morning, he published a behind-the-scenes account of how and why the Dodgers decided to go with the opener in Game 5. I sent the article to my dad under the heading “As I was saying…” My father read it, and wrote me back: “After reading the backstory on the pitching strategy, it was genius. Wow!”

The point is, we – as fans – in the grand scheme of things, don’t know shit. We have more information at our fingertips than at any time in history. We subscribe to FanGraphs and check Baseball Reference each morning. We read Jayson Stark’s Weird & Wild column religiously, and listen to Buster and umpteen other baseball podcasts. We have fantasy teams and keeper leagues, and follow the goings-on in the Arizona Fall League. And yet, we have no idea who’s arm is dead, or who didn’t sleep the night before because his baby is sick, or who looked awkward walking back from the clubhouse. We don’t have a fraction of the analytics, advanced statistics, and player-by-player match-up information that each team loads onto those dugout iPads. We don’t know what Dave Roberts or Alex Cora or Brian Snitker or Dusty Baker know. We haven’t experienced what they have experienced. So, arm-chair Connie Mack, slow your roll.

All of that said, it doesn’t mean that managers can’t be and shouldn’t be second (and third) guessed. They can and they should. In fact, that is part of what makes being a fan so much fun. Managers make decisions nearly every night that confound not just us fans, but their front offices as well. And they don’t always do a very good job of explaining themselves. But the system is pretty much self-correcting: make too many of those bad calls, and they become former managers.

Tim Kurkjian has oftentimes repeated the advice that Buck Showalter once told him: a bad outcome doesn’t necessarily mean a bad process; and a good outcome doesn’t necessarily mean a good process. So, it might make sense to be a bit more judicious in our criticisms. We should probably give managers – especially those who have (repeatedly) made it to the final four – the benefit of the doubt before we chuck them under the team bus.

For instance, I have to believe there is some explanation as to why Roberts pulled Brusdar Graterol after nine (100 MPH) pitches to bring in Kenley Jansen to face Eddie Rosario in the ninth inning of Game 2. Brian Anderson opined on the telecast that he didn’t want to be like the aforementioned Buck Showalter, losing a playoff game with his closer in the pen. Fair enough, but from my couch, it seemed like a shaky move. And until Roberts tells me more, until he explains what he and his coaches saw and knew, until he conveys what information was contained on that iPad, you can bet I will second-guess that decision. And if/when he does, I will go back to thinking that the guy who has won six division titles, two pennants, and one ring is pretty good at his job.

Second guess with impunity, but do so with humility.

PLAY BALL!!

The Man Before “The Man” – The Walk Before the Trot

Lost in the hullabaloo of huge walk-off home runs are the little things immediately preceding that make them possible. Watching the Dodgers-Cardinals game last week, I had an incredible flashback that I don’t believe was discussed on the broadcast.

Ranked the No. 1 sports moment in the history of Los Angeles sports, Kirk Gibson’s walk-off two-run home run against the Oakland A’s in the opener of the 1988 World Series was truly something to behold. And when reliving the event with the nearly ten minute clip on YouTube (as I have done countless times), we almost forget the five-pitch walk Mike Davis earned before Gibby hobbled his way out of the dugout.

Mike Davis is a footnote in baseball lore. He played 10 seasons in the big leagues, eight with his opponent that night, the A’s. In 1988 with the Dodgers, he walked only 25 times in 310 plate appearances. As such, he certainly wasn’t the ideal choice when needing a baserunner in the bottom of the ninth. In fact, it bears asking if he was actually a better option than Alfredo Griffin (for whom he pinch hit), with his .199 batting average and .259 on-base percentage.

Davis has a pretty brutal ’88 season, and the Dodgers limited him to 103 plate appearances in the second half. At season’s end, he sported a .196 batting average, and a .260 OBP with just nine walks after May. But manager Tommy Lasorda called his number in the ninth inning of Game 1 of the World Series, with the directive to find a way on base so someone, anyone, could try to drive him in. Davis worked a five-pitch walk off Dennis Eckersley, a pitcher who issued a mere 11 walks in 72 2/3 innings that season.

But Davis wasn’t done. With the crowd going wild and Gibson fouling off pitches like the battered horse that he was, Davis swiped second base. This was important for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was that now any Texas Leaguer, duck fart, or blooper over short would have at least tied the game (note, in Gibson’s condition, any ground ball in the infield – and maybe a shallow grounder to the outfield – would have resulted in an out at first to end the game). Also, in the years before multiple sets of signs, and quarterback-type wristbands, and back-pocket information cards, and center-field cameras relayed to dugout monitors, it was still to the batter’s advantage to have a runner on second base.

Of course, it is well-documented that the Dodgers had a pre-series scouting report that Eck would go to the backdoor slider on a 3-2 count, so it is unknown how helpful Davis’ positioning at second base may have been. Regardless, Davis was inexplicably on base representing the tying run when there was “a fly ball to right field…”

Kirk Gibson's home run moment still as powerful 25 years later – Daily News

Which brings me to last Wednesday night, in that same ballpark. Mike Davis was never the caliber of player that Cody Bellinger is. Cody has won Rookie of the Year and MVP awards. He is a two-time All-Star who has hit 47 dingers in a single season. But 2021 has been, in a word, a disaster for Cody. He played in 95 games, struck out three times as often as he walked, and had a .240 OBP. If not for the injury to Max Muncy on the last day of the year, it is highly likely that Bellinger wouldn’t have even been in the lineup in the Wild Card Game against the Cardinals. And yet, there he was.

So with the stage set for Albert Pujols to hit a pinch-hit, walk-off homer against his former club, he merely lined out to center. When Steven Souza Jr. did the same, it was up to Bellinger to keep this contest from going to extra innings. In August of this year, Bellinger had two walks in 93 plate appearances. He improved that a bit in September and October, with five in 59. But he hadn’t walked twice in a game since June 24, and seeing how he had already received a free pass in the third inning, another one didn’t seem likely.

Shockingly, after swinging through a 2-1 sinker, Bellinger took two sinkers just off the plate to earn the walk. There wasn’t a Dodgers fan in attendance, nor one watching on television, who wasn’t certain that Belly would swing through at least one of those pitches — but he didn’t.

Like Mike Davis, Bellinger found a way to get on. And then, like Davis, he stole second base.

Bellinger had previously swiped two bags in a game three times in his career: once in 2017, once in 2018, and then last September. But here he stole his second base of the night, and he did it with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning of a win-or-go-home game in October. And in doing so, like Davis, he put himself in scoring position (this time for a chance to win, rather than just tie).

We will all remember Chris Taylor’s line shot into the left-field pavilion to propel the Dodgers to the next round of the playoffs. It wasn’t Gibby. But it may have scooted in front of Muncy and Justin Turner in the annals of celebrated Dodger moments. CT3 walked off the Cardinals and gave the Dodgers the Wild Card Game victory. But lest we forget, as so many have since 1988, it was the little noted two-out walk, and the subsequent stolen base, that truly set the stage. A tip of the cap to Davis and Bellinger, whose keen eyes and fleet feet paved the way for legends to be born.

PLAY BALL!!

 

It Can’t End Like This

As you may know, I have a great deal of affection for Clayton Kershaw. In recent years, I, like many Dodger fans, hold my breath when he takes the mound in the playoffs. We feel, at almost a cellular level, the pain of his many post-season losses. We know, with absolute certainty, that his managers and his teams have done him dirty too many times to count – keeping him in one inning (or one batter) too long, not providing sufficient run support, allowing inherited runners to score, etc. And yet, the big Texan never complains, never makes excuses, always owns the defeats.

Last year, Kershaw flipped the monkey off his back, finally winning the World Series. According to Andy McCullough of The Athletic, Kershaw was still playing “We Are the Champions” on his home stereo well into the off-season. And good for him. But, even with that title, even with all the victories, even with the first-ballot Hall of Fame induction waiting for him five years after he hangs ’em up, it just can’t end like this.

Clayton Kershaw deserves a better send-off. His career cannot end with a ruined elbow – whether it requires Tommy John surgery or is just never the same. Clayton Kershaw deserves to walk off the mound in the seventh inning of a meaningful game in September or October, tipping his cap to the crowd while they chant his name. It can end with a “Public Enemy #1” at 72MPH making a batter look foolish. It can end with a loss after Kershaw, gassed, gives up yet another late-inning hit. It can end in any number of ways. It just can’t end like this.

This was always going to be an interesting off-season as far as Kershaw was concerned, insofar as he becomes a free agent after the last out is recorded. He made – in effect, due to a signing bonus – $31M in salary this year. He has averaged 25 starts-per-year over the past five full seasons, down from nearly 32-per in the previous five. Since 2018, he has made six trips to the IL; most of these have been related to his balky back, but now he is having trouble with his elbow and his forearm. You don’t need to be a FanGraphs member or have a subscription to MLB.tv to have a vague sense what that means…and that it isn’t good. Kershaw already ruled himself out for the remainder of the season. So what happens next?

Even if healthy(ish), the Dodgers had a decision to make with their franchise pitcher. He certainly isn’t/wasn’t going to get (ahem) Trevor Bauer money, nor Gerrit Cole money. He was probably set up for 2/$50M on a “thank you” contract. Would he have accepted that? Will the Rangers, with money to spend, try to lure Kershaw home to North Texas by offering 3/$75M or 2/$60M? Will Kersh take more to be closer to his wife and kids? We know that Kershaw doesn’t play the game for money; and we know his family is the most important thing in his life, followed a close second by charity. Will loyalty or the desire to keep wearing Dodger Blue for the entirety of his career win the day? No one knows.

With this current injury potentially ending his 2022 season, the situation becomes even more complicated. The Dodgers have the prospect of paying the aforementioned Bauer $40M this year for half a season’s work, and will probably have to pay him something before they cut him next year (here’s to hoping that (a) he gets suspended and (b) the Dodgers finally do the right thing, admit their mistake, and bid Bauer adieu). Can they/will they pay $20M+ to another pitcher who cannot/will not take the hill next year? We know they can. So the question becomes: do they have the will? There is a reasonably good chance that Clayton Kershaw will not throw another pitch until after his 35th birthday. The history of pitchers faring well in their mid-30’s is quite ominous. Kershaw has already changed his game from power to crafty. What will he look like two years from now? What is that worth?

All of that conjecture aside, Kershaw is the final arbiter, and he may make it very easy for the club. He may elect to retire. He has nothing left to prove on a baseball field. He has his youth, his family, his foundation, and his millions. There is no reason – other than sheer desire to be great and to keep competing at the highest level – to play another game. But we know Kershaw has an unending desire to be great, that he loves nothing more than competing at the highest level. We know he bleeds for the game, and plays through pain for his teammates, and works harder than most, just for the honor of taking the bump every fifth day (or out of the bullpen).

So, from my selfish perspective, here is a logical solution for both the club and the player: 3/$66M, with the understanding that the team is paying $22M for a rehab year in 2022; $22M as a show of goodwill (to cleanse their souls for that other pitcher they signed last off-season); $22M as a “thank you” for all of the memories, all of the great moments, all of the mentoring and long-toss sessions, all of the charity ping pong tournaments, all of the jerseys sold, and all of the times he refused to throw anyone under a bus; $22M for #22. They pay $22M next year on the hope that they can pay $44M over the next two for a middle-of-the-road number three or four starter who will take the ball, take the heat, and never – not once – ever take it for granted. That is what I want. But I will take any variation on the theme…

It just can’t end like this.

PLAY BALL!!

Waiting For the Other Sock to Drop

When I was in my last year of law school, I visited a head hunter because, after almost three years of schooling and nearly six figures of debt, I decided I didn’t want to be a lawyer; and hell, “you can do anything with a law degree.” The recruiter and I bandied about a bunch of ideas, but, surprisingly, one that did not come up was MLB general manager. It should have, as according to Alex Anthopoulos — the general manager of the Atlanta Braves — one of the main responsibilities of that job is to worry about what will happen next. And, as a lifelong Boston Red Sox fan, that is my metaphysical condition from April through October (if we are lucky). 2021 has been no different.

Going into spring, I was care and worry free. ESPN predicted the Red Sox would win 79 games; SI: 80; PECOTA: 85. As of this writing, the Red Sox have already won 88 games, with nine still to go. They have surpassed all expectations, and thus increased my anxiety level many-fold. And regardless of their over-performance (at least against preseason predictions), this team consistently seems to underperform. As such, they trigger my general manager tendencies, and cause me to worry.

The BoSox spent 85 days in first place, but fell out on July 30th. Five weeks later, on September 7th, they were 10 games back of the Rays. In those 38 days, the team went 16-20, which wasn’t horrible, but neither was it great. And, truth be told, despite their record and their position in the standings, they are not very good. According to FanGraphs, their Pythagorean Record would have them at 84 wins, and their Base Runs record would have them at 81. All better than expected, but still not a team worthy of World Series aspirations.

As a team, the Red Sox are hitting .262; .269 with runners in scoring position, and .294 with the bases loaded. And yet, it feels like they never capitalize on those situations (including again last night). By comparison, the Rays are hitting .241 as a team; .250 with runners in scoring position, but .390 with the bases loaded. And that may be why the Rays have scored 17 more runs than the BoSox (811-794).

And if you have watched the Red Sox lately, you can’t miss another glaring difference: defense. Here, as above, the stats don’t even begin to tell the whole story. Boston leads the A.L. with 103 errors (by comparison, the Rays rank 8th with only 78). The Red Sox have given up 77 unearned runs, while the Rays have only given up 58. But it’s not just the errors and the unearned runs, it’s the plays that should be made, but are not. If you watched Tampa Bay’s 11-10 come-from-behind win in Boston on Sept. 6, you will know exactly what I am talking about.

Yet, the season has but nine days to go, and the Red Sox are in pole position for the Wild Card. Assuming you can get past the unclutch hitting and the woeful defense, you then have to contend with a deadly virus. Kiké Hernandez went down with COVID-19 on Aug. 27th, and the team suffered no fewer than 12 player cases (plus two staffers), including ace Chris Sale (who, we have learned, is not vaccinated — see the great piece by Steve Buckley in The Athletic). 

It would have been considerably easier if they had tanked during that period, ending their season — and my worries — once and for all. But the team went 10-9 and kept themselves in contention, adding to my angst.

So now, after getting past their pandemic woes, we fans must steel ourselves for nine innings of high leverage baseball with this pitching staff. At this point, the best outcome is hosting the Wild Card game against (most likely) either the New York Yankees or the Toronto Blue Jays. And, at this point, the best outcome is the Red Sox are able to line up Sale to pitch that game. But, since coming back from Tommy John surgery on Aug. 14th, he has gone 5, 5, 5 1/3, 6, 3 2/3, 5, and 5 innings. 

Which means that even if Sale gets the ball to start the Wild Card game, the shaky bullpen will be there to try to finish it. Do you really trust Adam Ottavino and/or Matt Barnes and/or Hansel Robles to get through either the Bronx Bombing Beef Boys or the Canadian Clubbers of Springer, Semien, Vladito, Bichette, and Teoscar Hernández — even if it is only one time through the order? As a lifelong Boston fan, I most certainly do not.

Oh, and if Sale and the bullpen are able to walk between the raindrops and make it to the ALDS, they will have to face the Rays in a best of seven. In short, I won’t be booking any flights to Boston for late October this year.

But my sincere hope is that it just doesn’t end too badly. I have seen this movie too many times. I was just a hair too young to remember Bucky Dent, but I do remember 1986 (which, conveniently, was the main focus of ESPN’s four-part documentary released last week). I will never forgive Grady Little or Aaron “Bleeping” Boone. None of us will ever forget 2011. There have been too many bad moments, too many bad months, too many bad streaks, too many bad hops and bad breaks to think anything other than bad news is on the horizon. When the end comes, just make it painless…

It is in these moments of heightened tension that I envy my son. Because, even with 2011, he has really only known Red Sox success. He has witnessed four World Series titles in his 18 short years. To him, the Red Sox are winners, not chokers; there is no curse or jinx or hex on his favorite team, just glory every three or four years.

That is why my son had no compunction about mocking the Yankees after they acquired Anthony Rizzo and Joey Gallo, saying, with absolute earnestness and confidence, that “it won’t mean anything when the Yankees don’t make the playoffs.” At which point I told him to go outside, turn around three times, and spit. In my heart, I know he didn’t stave off the wrath of the baseball gods. In fact, if history and thaumaturgy are any guide, it will be Rizzo and Gallo who hit the game-tying and game-winning home runs in the Wild Card game.

But, no matter. Whether it is the Yankees, the Jays, or the A’s, I will not — and never will — feel one bit confident that the Red Sox — this, or any other version — will come through. It is part of being a Red Sox fan; it is in our DNA. We live our lives waiting for the other sock to drop.

PLAY BALL!!

Laying Down With a Dog

I have always loved the Theo Epstein story. Local Boston kid leaves home, cuts his teeth, comes back and orchestrates the roster that ended an 86-year curse. When management wanted to go in another direction, he moved to the Midwest and orchestrated the roster that ended a 108-year curse. And then he became best buds with Eddie Vedder, the lead singer of his all-time favorite band. All the while he married a Harvard girl and had two adorable kids. What is not to love?

Well, there is this. It is a small detail that has always stuck in my craw. It is this one transaction that has sullied my appreciation for what Theo built in Chicago and my excitement over their finally turning “Next Year” into “This Year.” Right before the 2016 trade deadline, the Cubs sent pitcher Adam Warren and prospects Rashad Crawford, Billy McKinney (lately of the Dodgers), and Gleyber Torres (currently playing Derek Jeter-level defense in the Bronx) to the Yankees in return for All-Star closer Aroldis Chapman. The Cubs were looking for something to put them over the top, and Chapman had the highest K/9 in MLB and was rocking a 105 mph fastball. At the time of the acquisition, Chapman was 20 for 21 in save opportunities on the year. It seemed like a great deal, except…

Chapman started the 2016 season serving a 30-day suspension under the MLB Joint Domestic Violence Policy (“JDVP”) after an incident with his girlfriend wherein he allegedly choked her, pushed her against a wall, and then fired eight rounds in his garage in his ensuing fit of pique. Epstein and General Manager Jed Hoyer spoke with Chapman before closing the deal and felt sufficiently confident that he had learned his lesson, paid his debt to baseball (if not society), and was ready to help the Cubs win the World Series. Flags fly forever, but you have to ask yourself, at what cost?

As much as I – a fan of baseball – reveled in the Cubs victory in 2016, it pleased me to no end that Chapman melted down in Game 7 against Cleveland and wasn’t on the hill when the last out was recorded. He didn’t deserve that front page photo, that SI cover, that memory seared into the minds of every Cub fan within earshot of 670 The Score. The Chapman signing has always left a bitter taste in my mouth, and will always be a blight on Theo Epstein’s legacy.

If there is a Theo Epstein 2.0, it would be former Rays GM, and current Dodgers President of Baseball Operations, Andrew Friedman. A wunderkind from the world of finance, he cut his teeth with a microscopic budget in the backwaters of Tampa Bay, and then moved to the glitz, glamour, and gargantuan pocketbooks of Los Angeles. One can question some of the moves Friedman has made since joining the Bums in 2014, but none more so than signing Trevor Bauer last February to the richest deal on per-year basis (first season only) in baseball history.

Bauer’s exploits and “look-at-me” personality has rubbed enough people the wrong way, and enough writers have addressed his personality – shall we say – “issues,” that I feel no need to recount them here. But all of those incidents look quaint when compared to what we learned on June 29, 2021. On that day it was reported that the Pasadena Police were investigating a potential sexual assault by Bauer with an unnamed woman from San Diego. The more details that were released, the worse the story got.

We all knew Bauer wasn’t a good guy. He may not be Aroldis Chapman (or Milton Bradley), but he certainly isn’t anybody’s Nelson Cruz. It is hard to imagine any Dodger player learning that Bauer was joining their club and thinking, “alright, a great new addition to the team.” At best they were thinking, “hopefully he pitches well every fifth day, and shuts the hell up the other four.” Alas, it wasn’t Bauer’s mouth that got him into trouble.

Bad behavior from Bauer – in some form – was expected. What we should not have expected (and on this your mileage may vary) is the Dodgers woeful reaction and response to that behavior. When the news broke, the Dodgers publicly stated that Bauer would make the team’s road trip to Washington and would be on the mound the following Sunday. That was followed by Dave Roberts’ incredibly tone deaf – most charitably, ignorant – comment that the matter was “out of our hands.” It seems that Roberts believed he could sidestep the issue by relying on the JDVP, which defers punishment to the league, not the team.

But last I checked, Rob Manfred does not fill out the lineup card (insert, “no, the Dodgers front office does” joke here). The Dodgers could have come up with a valid reason – the emotional toll of being charged with a serious crime being a pretty easy one – for skipping Bauer’s next start. Hell, they could have come up with a magical hamstring strain – the same one that has caused the slumping Cody Bellinger to miss a few games last week. And while the Collective Bargaining Agreement prohibits teams from retaliating against players by benching them, the worst case scenario is that Bauer would have filed a grievance. And the Dodgers lost. And they were forced to pay a fine. As of last year, the team was worth $3.4 billion. You would think with that kind of scratch they could afford a small penalty from an arbitrator (assuming they lost the grievance) to retain the moral high ground, to send a message to the team that this conduct will not be tolerated, and to let their fans – many (50%?) of whom are women – know that despite signing Bauer in the first place, they are a class organization. Yeah, they chose not to do any of that.

Per the terms of the JDVP, MLB has the right to put a player on administrative leave for up to seven days while it investigates an incident. They have right to extend that with the consent of the MLBPA. Both of those things have occurred with Bauer. While on administrative leave, the player continues to get paid, continues to accrue service time, and has the right to continue working out at the team’s spring training facilities. And as much as I dislike Bauer, the first part of that makes me very happy.

If MLB ultimately determines that Bauer violated the terms of the JDVP, they can and will suspend him without pay. Since 2016, the shortest such suspension has been 15 games (twice), with five suspensions of 75 games or more. Sam Dyson incurred the harshest punishment: the entirety of the 2021 season.

As I am sure you are aware, Bauer has vowed to fight the charges, and there is a real chance that MLB elects not to take any action unless/until the criminal matter is resolved, whenever that occurs. But Bauer could force everyone’s hand and not consent to any additional administrative leave (he agreed this week to extend it through August 6th). If he were to do that, he would make the Dodgers put up or shut up, as they would no longer have the ability to punt their decision about what to do with their problematic pitcher.

Bauer’s contract is not public. We don’t know if the Dodgers would or will have a valid justification to terminate it. But, if such an off-ramp does exist in the legal boilerplate, it is unlikely that it would be possible to enforce that provision until the criminal matter is adjudicated. And that seems unlikely before September (when Bauer’s last 2021 paycheck will be due). And that makes me happy.

Sure, I don’t like seeing Bauer getting rich and not playing and trying to plead the fifth. But I find the idea of the Dodgers getting out their financial bind considerably more odious. The Dodgers bought their ticket; they bought a ticking time bomb; they knew the risks; they injected a virus into their World Series-winning clubhouse on a wing and a prayer that it would not turn into a cancer. Well, guess what?!? According to the Los Angeles Times’ Bill Plaschke, the majority of Dodger players do not want Bauer back under any circumstances.

Even if Bauer is ultimately exonerated in the criminal matter, he still may be suspended by MLB without pay (each tribunal has different standards). That would benefit the Dodgers in the event Bauer exercises his $32M option for next year. But even if Bauer were suspended without pay for the entirety of the 2022 season (see Dyson, Sam), he still could theoretically exercise his 2023 option and make the Dodgers pay him $32M to either pitch as a pariah or play somewhere else. Oh, and if Bauer threw the Dodgers a bone and opted out of the 2023 obligation, the Dodgers would still owe him a $15M buy-out.

So, absent a criminal indictment or conviction that allows the Dodgers to terminate Bauer’s contract, the Dodgers WILL PAY. It may not be the entire $102M, but they will cough up a huge chunk of it. And as loathsome as I find Bauer, the Dodgers being forced to spend nearly nine figures to rid themselves of this mess makes me happy.

The Boys in Blue can remove all the Bauer merchandise they want; they can cancel all the bobblehead nights they had planned; they can try to retcon their response to this episode however they choose. But we all know that they made a cold and calculated decision when they signed Bauer, who, as Plaschke rightly pointed out, “had a history of harassing and bullying women online, mocking transgender people, and spreading conspiracy theories.” Andrew Friedman, like Theo Epstein before him, put FIP and WPA and a recent Cy Young award ahead of character and rectitude and principle. The Dodgers laid down with a dog. And now they have to pay for the fleas.

PLAY BALL!!