Instant Replay in Baseball

Isn't it about freaking time they instituted this? I don't want any silly challenge rules like the NFL or anything like that. All I want is replay on big plays, more like the way the NCAA operates their replay system for basketball.

In the bottom of the first inning of the White Sox @ Red Sox game tonight, JD Drew hit what was clearly, upon replay, a 3-run homer to left. It bounced on top of the Monster, though, and came back into the field of play, allowing Rob Mackowiak to relay a throw home and nail Manny Ramirez at the plate for the third out. Manny wasn't even running hard because--I'm assuming--he thought it was a homer (I mean, he could've just been dogging it, but whatever). The point is that, after conferencing, the umps still got the call wrong and effectively shortchanged the Red Sox at least 2 runs. Sure, the Red Sox ended up pounding the White Sox anyway, but as we all know, the biggest free agent bust of the season (you know he's bad when he's essentially the statistical equivalent of Coco Crisp) needs all the help he can get.

I honestly can't think of any reason why, in a situation where umpires have to get together on a call because there's some question as to a call's accuracy, they can't get together around a TV monitor and make the call based on a replay. Granted, it's no guarantee that you'll get the call right based on a replay--the phantom dropped third strike on AJ Pierzynski against the Angels in the 2005 ALCS (I was there!) comes to mind. After watching it on replay several times, I still wasn't sure what actually happened there. But I'd be willing to bet you'd get the call right a hell of a lot more often than just relying on umps conferring. More importantly, there'd be a sense of legitimacy and fairness to the whole thing.

I don't want to hear any of this crap about not wanting to extend the length of games, either. Are you telling me Bud Selig is arguing with a straight face that he'd rather incorrectly alter the outcome of games--"human error" is part of the game, after all!--instead of taking five minutes to get a call right? That can't possibly be right! Oh wait, he is.

NBA Thugs and Baseball Gentlemen

The Big Lead posted a thought-provoking piece today about the way fighting in the NBA is perceived versus the way fighting in Major League Baseball is perceived. I think to have a legitimate discussion about this, you have to throw in the other major sports, too: the NFL, where I can't remember any real fight on the field ever occurring (I'm sure I'm just overlooking them, but whatever); and the NHL (and hockey in general), a sport (not necessarily a league) that connotes fighting more than sporting to a lot of people (see the tired "I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out" joke, for instance).

A lot of the commenters on The Big Lead already addressed a lot of very good possible reasons why fighting is spun differently in the NBA and in baseball: race, the proximity of fans to the playing field, the relative strength of commissioners and player unions, "tradition," etcetera, etcetera. Whatever. I got tired of reading after about 5 comments (as an aside--who are these people that have the time and/or desire to read upwards of 100 comments on a blog post? Who gives a shit what some random asshole thinks about a random sports topic? I say all this completely aware of the irony in a blogger with commenters wondering these things. But still...) OK, back to the fisticuffs.

While I think race (baseball=white, basketball=black), fan proximity to the playing/fighting field (baseball=far, basketball=close), and commissioners and player unions (Selig=gutless moronic wussy, Stern=iron-fisted dictator) all play into the way fighting is spun in the different sports, I'm inclined to think tradition--whatever the hell that means--is perhaps the biggest factor in the way these things are handled.

Especially after reading Moneyball, where it becomes clear that damn near everything in baseball is done a certain way because that's the way it was always done, it seems to me that maybe the rich historic tradition of the whole "code of honor" bullshit/beanball wars in baseball contributes to a tendency to write off such bench-clearing brawls as simply a part of the game. I'm next to completely ignorant about hockey, but it seems like the same could be the case over there. Guys beat the shit out of each other on the ice because that's just an accepted part of the game. In basketball and football, however, melees have never really been a part of things for whatever reason. Double standard, to be sure.

But the double standard that applies within baseball, between pitchers and position players, is something that I still can't wrap my head around. In the latest round of fisticuffs, this time between San Diego pitcher Chris Young and Cubbies first baseman Derrek Lee, both pitcher and position player were suspended 5 games (and are appealing those suspensions) for taking swings at each other. They each had a roughly equal role in the fighting (Young threw the beanball, Lee took the first swing) so supposedly "equal" suspensions of 5 games were dealt out. That means, of course, that Chris Young misses one start and Derrek Lee misses five starts, which doesn't seem equal at all.

I'm not proposing Young be suspended for 25 games here, but I also don't believe the suspensions in this case are equal in severity. How do you deal with pitchers versus position players in a situation like this? I don't have any satisfying answers, but it's pretty clear that Bud Selig will never, ever, ever, ever have an even mildly satisfying solution either.

Moneyball: an astonishing read

Well, "astonishing" isn't how I'd describe Moneyball, but if Michael Lewis was describing my reaction to the book, he might use "astonishing" because damn near everything is worthy of being deemed "astonishing." The low cost of on-base percentage? Astonishing. Billy Beane admitting a mid-season shake-up was unnecessary? Astonishing. Bill James' Baseball Abstract? Astonishing. Greg Maddux's reaction to giving up cheap hits? Astonishment. Chad Bradford's AAA stats? Astonishing. And on. And on. And on.

OK, so railing on the author's penchant for astonishment is pretty nitpicky. But it did seem strangely out of step with a narrative that's all about removing a certain level of astonishment, mysticism, and stupidity from the game and replacing it with rationality, logic, and "science"--however loosely that last term may be employed. And it was freaking annoying.

Anyway, I realize I'm years behind the curve here, but I'm gonna jot down a few thoughts about the book anyway. New to me, new to FTG. So it goes.

Overall, I did find Moneyball a really enjoyable, light read... and fairly well-written, as sports writing goes (my field of judgment as far as books is about as limited as it gets here--I remember reading Andre Dawson's (auto)biography... along with the Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann SportsCenter book way back in the day). In any case, it was a nice read after being liberated from the shackles of 19th century literature.

It illustrated exceedingly well the institutional and individual inertia built around received knowledge, evident in so many walks of life, can be completely and utterly illogical and destructive. And it showed how difficult rationality and logic is to adhere to sometimes, no matter how much you're committed to your system (there are many exceptions to the rules Billy Beane sets up for himself).

As much as I've come to trust Kenny Williams (despite his adherence to "small ball" and his strange affinity for guys like Darin Erstad and Scott Podsednik), do I wish Billy Beane was the White Sox's GM? Undoubtedly yes. But those things aside, I think reading Moneyball was one of those cases of having a book built up so much--by friends, media, whomever--that I couldn't help but be disappointed.

For me, the most disappointing aspect of the book was its intention to disprove the idea that economic disparity in baseball is a serious problem. I don't care that however many different teams have won the World Series in however many years, creating more winning diversity than other professional sports leagues--as Billy Beane says, winning in the playoffs is something of a crapshoot. Just look at the Cardinals last year.

It can be incredibly demoralizing to a fan base to continually lose superstars, developed in the farm system, to free agency because your team can't afford to pay them. It's even more demoralizing to fail to be competitive year after year after year. Yes, Billy Beane has been able to make the Oakland A's successful despite a low payroll. Yes, he has done it by being smarter than a bunch of dumb GMs. But that does not logically mean that baseball doesn't have a huge problem in payroll disparity.

Here's why: if Billy Beane had the money that Brian Cashman had, he'd mop the floor with the league, year after year, instead of having to scrap and claw his way to the top. In other words, money doesn't automatically make winners, but it makes winning a hell of a lot easier. To argue that because the Oakland A's of the world exist we don't need some sort of salary cap or more drastic revenue sharing is akin to arguing that, because some families are capable of living a happy life below the poverty line we don't need to address the growing disparity of wealth in this country. It's absurd.

For all the awareness of problems surrounding small sample sizes Michael Lewis seems to show throughout the book, he ignores the fact that the time encompassed in Moneyball is an exceedingly small sample size--a sample that worked particularly well to illustrate the supposed "genius" of the way Billy Beane and JP Ricciardi ran the A's. From 2000-2003, the A's made the playoffs every single year. The next 2 years, while they were certainly competitive, they missed the playoffs. Does that mean Billy Beane was any less genius those years? No, I don't think so. But what happens when the richer teams get smarter?

Theo Epstein, who makes a cameo appearance at the end of Moneyball, is held up as an example of the type of GM that employs the same strategies as Billy Beane. The thing is, Theo has roughly two to three times as much money to play with as Billy--which means he can hang onto and buy guys like Manny, Big Papi, Schilling, Beckett, Matsuzaka, etc., etc. These are the kind of guys--guys like Tejada, Giambi, and others--that Beane has continually been forced to let go. The Red Sox won the championship in 2004 and, despite suffering a third place finish due to a rash of injuries last year, have set themselves up to succeed far into the future. It's something that's a lot easier to do when you've got that much money to play with.

And don't think the Yankees aren't taking notice--Brian Cashman is running his team with more and more sense, which is kinda scary. Of course, money combined with supposedly Moneyball-type roots won't guarantee that you're competitive. The Blue Jays and JP Ricciardi have made and been burned by some questionable investments the past couple years--AJ Burnett, BJ Ryan, Frank Thomas, to name the most prominent. So there are no guarantees no matter how you run your team.

But still (and I realize I've got no hard evidence to back this up), I don't see how you can debate my core point: money makes it easier to win. Who do I blame for this? Bud Selig, naturally. I hate you Bud.

A Few Thoughts on Barry Bonds and Race

Well, until the Clemens signing dwarfed all other weekend baseball headlines, the "scientific polling" about Barry Bonds that raised interesting questions about race, drugs, and record breaking was about as juicy as it gets. Juicy. Get it?

What's almost more interesting to me than the actual results of the ABC/ESPN polling is how surprised the media seems to be--or how surprised the media seems to think we should be--that race is a significant aspect of the whole Bonds saga. Although I generally detest Joe Morgan, I have to say he was pretty much on target when he matter-of-factly said something on the Sunday Night Baseball broadcast to the effect of, "Well, when you have questions surrounding black athletes in sports, it's no surprise that there will always be a racial divide over how people perceive that athlete." Now, I don't know about always, Joe, because I like to fancy myself an optimist sometimes and I prefer to avoid words like "always" and "never" (although my fiancee would probably beg to disagree--apparently I have a habit of saying things like "You never unload the dishwasher." What can I say, sometimes always and never are warranted.), but you're right on target with how unsurprising these results should be.

Maybe the surprise has something to do with this poll following so closely on the heels of the self-congratulatory Jackie Robinson festivities a few weeks ago in which it seemed like all was right with baseball racially ("look how far we've come, look what progress we've made!" was the storyline). Sure, the Jackie Robinson celebrations and observations initiated serious conversations about the dwindling African American presence in baseball--but (1) figuring out how to get black kids interested in baseball and (2) figuring out how to deal with what appears to be a quite wide racial divide over a controversial black athlete that perhaps reveals an even deeper and broader racial gap in the sport are two drastically different things.

You want black kids to get involved in youth baseball, Bud? Well, first get your ass in gear and throw some money to some urban initiatives. But maybe you should also man up, make a statement, and be in the freaking ballpark when Barry Bonds--who, aside from being a steroid-using athlete, is also a black athlete--breaks Hank Aaron's record. You think the black fans--adults and kids alike--buy your bullshit line to the effect of "Hey, I wasn't there for Clemens' 300th win, why should I be there for Barry's 756th homer?" (First: 300 wins? Please. 22 pitchers have 300 wins. One man has 755 homers. If Roger Clemens broke Cy Young's wins record, you'd sure as hell be there, asshole). Maybe blacks believe that argument as much as when cops try to tell them that they're not targeted for traffic stops. If they (rightly) see themselves as being guilty of driving while black, how do they not see Barry as guilty of breaking records while black?

What do we learn from this whole mess? Well, maybe a thing or two about how little America has progressed on racial issues... but this is a sports blog, not an academic blog. I deal with these issues too much on a daily basis to want to address them here. So, as far as baseball goes, primarily we get further confirmation that Bud Selig is a colossal fuck-up that seems to compound one fuck-up with another.

He fucked up the 1994 season (and, as a White Sox fan, that one particularly stung). He fucked up (and continues to fuck up) the whole steroids mess by turning a blind eye to Sosa and McGwire because their homers were "good for baseball" coming back from the strike. He fucked up the All-Star game. He's fucking up the salary cap and revenue sharing. And now he's fucking up the celebration of one of baseball's truly special record chases in part because he's already fucked up the steroids issue.

Should Barry have done steroids? Probably not. But should the pitchers he was hitting against (I'm looking at you, Rocket) have done steroids? Probably not. But if it's not against the rules, it's not cheating. And that's what we've got to work with. Sosa and McGwire broke the single-season record on the juice and baseball loved it. Bonds broke those records and baseball loved it a little less. Now Bonds is closing in on an even bigger record, and Bud wants baseball to love it hardly at all, wants to scapegoat Barry for this whole mess that he doesn't have the balls to fix himself. Well screw you, Bud. I'm rooting for Barry.

MLB Tries To Be Cool; Winds Up Disturbing

Maybe I'm late to the party on this, and pardon me because I'm no UniWatch, but look at this new bullshit MLB series of hats that are being sold this year. I own several New Era caps. They are my favorite hats, especially next to my Bengals cap that has never quite fit right (thanks, Reebok). I've grown tolerant of the pink and orange hats for every team. I can even look past a camouflage hat, begrudgingly, at this point. But, this is off-the-charts fucking lunacy. If I see someone wearing this at a Reds game this year I may have to hurl myself off the upper deck. I'm at a loss. What is it supposed to be? Someone threw a wet team logo against the wall and it's dripping down? Hard to imagine that scenario. A crooked logo is bleeding? Some morbid fantasy elements there, guys. Is it really necessary to tarnish every traditional element of the game? Does Bud Selig know these hats exist? I'll tell you what, if I see a picture of Commissioner Skeletor wearing one of these, I'll go out and buy the whole set. Ugh. The fucktard that dreamed this up should maybe watch a baseball game occasionally.

Bud Selig is an Impotent Douche

I know, I know, no news there. But I was checking out Jayson Stark's ever-so-brief piece on the Yankees' Pettitte signing, and I came across this nugget and my eyes went all a-googly and I nearly gagged: "The buzz around baseball is that MLB officials -- particularly commissioner Bud Selig -- weren't happy with the Astros for giving $100 million over six years to free agent Carlos Lee."

Um... yeah. So, unless Bud Selig has been calling up the GMs for the Cubs, Orioles, Red Sox, Angels, Royals, Rangers, Dodgers, and any other team that has been making asinine deals this winter and voicing his displeasure, as the Astros I tell Bud to go smoke some pole. Yeah, 6 years at $16 million per is a bit excessive for Carlos, but this is a guy who has consistently hit 30 homers, driven in 100 runs over the past four years (plus, his nickname is El Caballo. El Caballo! God bless you, Hawk). And he just turned 30. Compare it to the Soriano, Lilly, Meche, Matthews, Drew, whoever the fuck deals, and it's more reasonable if you ask me.

Selig's retirement can't come soon enough.