Monthly Archives: July 2011

With all of the focus on the Yankees’ alleged pursuit of Ubaldo Jimenez and sundry other pitchers, most of the mainstream media has lost focus on the team’s other concern: an inconsistent and hardly overpowering offense. The Yankees have not scored a ton of runs since a time from before the All-Star break–with the sorry output against James Shields on Thursday being the latest example. Very quietly, the Yankees have fallen to third in the American League in runs scored, trailing not only the Red Sox but the resurgent Rangers.

In the last 11 games, the Yankees have been held to one run four times. In another game, they scored two runs. They haven’t scored more than seven runs in any game over that stretch. And they haven’t reached double figures in runs since June 28. This ain’t a powerhouse any more.

It should be no secret that the loss of Alex Rodriguez is playing a role. A-Rod should be back within the next month, but will the Yankees be able to score enough runs to stay close to the Red Sox during the interim? Even with a small resurgence since his dreadful start, Jorge Posada is still having a terrible season; Derek Jeter remains a middle infield mediocrity; and Mark Teixeira is struggling to keep his batting average above .240. Frankly, the Yankees need some help, and it will probably have to come from within since Brian Cashman will be saving most of his trade chips for a pitcher.

Eric Chavez appears on the verge of returning from the DL, and it’s can’t come at a better time. Once he’s activated, he should immediately be made part of a third base platoon with either Eduardo Nunez (who hasn’t hit much since the A-Rod injury) or prospect Brandon Laird.

Then the Yankees should address the DH situation, where Posada and aging Andruw Jones simply aren’t cutting it. For the umpteenth time this summer, I’m calling for the promotion of Jesus Montero. Once he comes off the minor league DL, it‘s time to let him make his debut as a Yankee. (As Bill Parcells once said about one of his kickers, “It‘s time to take those Huggies off.”) For crying out loud, bring up Montero once and for all, put him in a platoon with Posada, and let him back up Russell Martin ahead of the useless, fist-pumping Francisco Cervelli. It’s beyond me why the Yankees continue to play with a 24-man roster, which is essentially what they’re doing with Cervelli.

None of this is meant to say that the Yankees should ignore their pitching concerns. They shouldn’t. But they need a boost of hitting, at least until Rodriguez returns. And they need it now…

***

As usual, there will be a nice Yankee presence in Cooperstown this weekend for the annual Hall of Fame Induction Ceremony. The Hall of Fame contingent includes plenty of pinstriped blood: Yogi Berra, Wade Boggs, Whitey Ford, Goose Gossage, Rickey Henderson, Reggie Jackson, Phil Niekro, and Dave Winfield. Plus, let’s not forget 2011 inductee Pat Gillick, who once worked for the Yankees as an executive and had extensive input on the trades that brought Willie Randolph, Mickey Rivers, and Ed Figueroa to New York.

There will be other ex-Yankees in town, too. Jim Kaat, who once honeymooned in Cooperstown, will attend Sunday’s ceremony. Favorites like Ron Guidry, Dwight Gooden, and Paul Blair will be signing autographs on Main Street. And others who made relatively overlooked appearances in pinstripes will also be signing, including Jesse Barfield, Bert “Campy” Campaneris, and Elliott Maddox.

Five of these six ex-Yankees have become Cooperstown regulars. The exception is Maddox, who has not visited in years. He tends to be a forgotten Yankee, having been acquired in a straight cash transaction from the Rangers, but at his peak, Maddox was one of the game’s premier defensive center fielder, a player who appeared destined to succeed Blair as the game’s premier flychaser. He had it all: loping speed, the knack for lightning quick jumps, and a powerful arm. On offense, he was a contributor, finishing fourth in the AL in on-base percentage in 1974. The Yankees thought so much of him that they moved Bobby Murcer to right field just to make room for Maddox in center.

And then Maddox had the misfortune of slipping on the wet outfield grass at Shea Stadium (which didn’t drain particularly well) and badly tearing up his knee. It happened in 1975, when the Yankees were playing out the string at Shea as they waited to move into the renovated Yankee Stadium. Maddox was never the same after the incident, for which he sued the Yankees, Mets, and anybody else he could think of, including the City of New York. He lost the suit, not to mention any chance of being a premier player.

But man, at one time, Maddox could go get them better than most, and that includes Mickey Rivers, Bernie Williams in his prime, and even Curtis Granderson. Elliott Maddox was that good.

Bruce Markusen writes “Cooperstown Confidential” for The Hardball Times.

"Reflection with Two Children" (1965)

Lucian Freud, one of the great painters of our time, died yesterday.

Lying by the Rags (1989-90)

He was 88.

Freud’s work is stunning.

"Benefits Supervisor Sleeping" (1995)

He painted the human figure like nobody else and was an artist who got better with age.

"Double Portrait" (1985-86)

"Reflection...self-portait" (1985)

Rest in Peace.

“I really don’t like it myself but I like it because other people don’t like it.” —Kool Keith.

Makes sense to me.

James Shields must have liked what he saw when handed the Yankee lineup card this evening. No Arod. No Granderson. Two guys with slugging percentages over .416. A couple of tough outs for sure, but after spending his whole career in the AL East, this had to be the weakest Yankee lineup he ever faced. He had come up a loser in the last game before the All-Star break falling one to nothing in an exquisite pitcher’s duel with CC Sabathia. Tonight he turned the tables and hung the tough loss on Sabathia 2-1.

CC had to keep a clean sheet or close to it to give the weakened Yankees a chance, but Evan Longoria hammered a hanger into the left field seats in the bottom of the first. It was a slow breaking ball high in the hitting zone and might well have been screaming “hit me” as it tumbled into Longoria swing arc. I don’t know, I can’t hear my TV over the AC.

CC made a go of it over at Grover Cleveland, keeping the game in reach. But with two outs and nobody on in the fifth, he got sloppy and walked the eighth hitter Elliot Johnson. The walk looked harmless enough, but with two strikes on the ninth hitter, he tried to put him down with a slider low and away. It stayed up and in the middle and Sam Fuld smoked it into the right-field corner for a run-scoring triple.

Two bad breaking balls, two runs on the board.

The score seemed to go from 1-0 to 20-0 with that run as the Yankees couldn’t even get a man to second base from the second through the seventh. Shields put some guys on base, but squashed any hopes with his off speed stuff. A well-disguised change-up was my number one fear as a hitter, and, anecdotally anyway, the pitch I feel that gives the Yanks the most problems.

In the eighth, Derek Jeter and Robinson Canó rapped doubles to pull one of the runs back. All of a sudden those two little runs CC allowed didn’t seem so formidable. Canó’s double chased Shields and Swisher got to face Brandon Gomes with the game on the line.

One of my best coaches advised me to be ready to hit the first pitch from any relief pitcher because he’s expecting you to take and might groove a heater. That must be especially true with a patient hitter like Nick Swisher. But Gomes out-guessed the guesser and threw an 82 MPH change-up on the first pitch. Swisher thought he was all over it, but after contact he knew he was out in front. Nurtz.

Kyle Farnsworth struck out three in the ninth, though I didn’t give up hope until Granderson was retired (he pinch hit in the seventh). I thought he could handle Farnsworth’s heat, but he just fouled it back. Professor Farns eventually got him to chase a slider in the dirt.

CC Sabathia was the loser, throwing a complete game and striking out eight. He was a notch below his recent ridiculousness walking three unintentionally, but good enough to win on most nights. Hate to lose with him on the mound, but with this powerless lineup, he needed to better than he was.

The Yankees are now two full games back of Boston in the AL East and would be wise to fatten up on the upcoming home stand versus Oakland, Seattle and Baltimore. It would be nice to make up a game or two, though with the way the Sox have been going, they might have to win all ten to make up any ground.

Tonight gives a rematch of C.C. Sabathia and James Sheilds. Great as the big man is, my hunch says that C.C. will finally have a bad outing. Yeah, I know it’s his birthday. I know the Rays aren’t a good hitting team. What the hell am I talking about? Mabye the heat is getting to me.  So here’s hoping I don’t know dick and that my hunch is all kinds of wrong.

In the meantime: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

“Today is win day” is a clubhouse creed uttered before a game in which a truly elite pitcher takes the mound. This year, that slogan has certainly applied to C.C. Sabathia.

When their ace lefty toes the rubber, the Yankees are one of the most formidable teams in baseball. The team’s 16-5 record behind Sabathia is the highest winning percentage of any pitcher/team combination (minimum 100 innings) in the American League, and second in baseball to only the Phillies and Roy Halladay (16-4). Needless to say, the sight of the big man on the mound probably inspires as much confidence in the players behind him as the fans watching at home and in the stands.

The Yankees currently have the third best winning percentage in all of baseball, and trail the Phillies by only three games for the top spot, so, the team’s strength doesn’t rest solely on Sabathia’s valuable left arm. And yet, there’s no denying that when he pitches, the Yankees seem to have at least a little extra swagger. The same can also be said about the Phillies behind Halladay and Cliff Lee, the Red Sox behind Josh Beckett, and the Tigers behind Justin Verlander.

It’s hard to win with just one elite pitcher. Ask Felix Hernandez. Usually, over a long season, the best teams in baseball are the ones with the greatest depth and balance. But, what about on “win day”?  For just one game, which team can field the most formidable lineup?

In order to answer that question, a representative lineup along with one starter and closer was compiled for every team with a record above .500 (one exception was including the Reds and omitting the Mets). In order to be eligible for the lineup, a player had to reasonably qualify at a position (i.e., start a minimum of five games or be a recent call-up) and, if on the disabled list, be eligible to return before the end of the season. Also, closers were considered to be relievers with the most saves, not the highest WAR, because that’s how each respective manager would likely use their bullpen in our hypothetical one-game scenario. Although some variations could apply, below are the top lineups ranked by average WAR (bWAR and fWAR).

Top One Game Lineups Among Select Playoff Contenders

Note: AvgWAR = bWAR + fWAR/2
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

In the American League, the pecking order for one game seems to mirror what most people would consider the season ranking. The Red Sox with Josh Beckett enjoy the highest one game average WAR of 29.1, while the Yankees and Sabathia come in second at 26.7, which makes sense when you consider the Red Sox have won all three games in which those two aces have hooked up. However, it should be noted that fWAR gives the best Yankees’ lineup more credit (for an explanation about the differences between fWAR and bWAR, click here), narrowing the gap to 30 versus 29.3.

The rest of the AL falls in line behind the two East division rivals, although the Tigers with Verlander rank within one win above replacement of the Yankees when using baseball-reference.com’s calculation. On an average basis, however, the West-leading Rangers rank as the third most formidable one-game lineup in the American League. Meanwhile, the Indians are the consensus laggard, failing to top 20 WAR in both calculations.

There are more surprises in the National League. Even with Roy Halladay’s dominance, the Phillies can do no better than tie the Brewers for the best one-game lineup. While the Phillies strength is pitching, the Brew Crew is built around offense. Milwaukee’s top three position players all average a WAR over three, something no other N.L. team can claim.

The Reds, the only sub-.500 team considered, rank third in average WAR, which illustrates their lack of pitching depth. On the other end of the spectrum, the Giants, who have the lowest average WAR, enjoy one of the league’s best records. Why? Because four of the team’s starters have an average WAR of at least 2.8. Surprisingly, the Braves also rank near the bottom despite having the second best record in the National League, a discrepancy created in large part because a one-game snapshot ignores Atlanta’s bullpen depth.

Finally, it should be noted that the Diamondbacks would have also tied for the top one-game lineup if not for Stephen Drew’s season ending injury in last night’s game. Before breaking his ankle, Drew had an average WAR of 1.6, which would have boosted the Diamondbacks score to 18.8. What’s more, if you take into account Daniel Hudson’s 0.9 WAR as a hitter, Arizona actually pushes ahead of the Phillies and Brewers.

Which lineup would you choose for win day? Just because WAR picks the Red Sox doesn’t mean it’s case closed.  Some might opt for Halladay regardless of the rest of the Phillies’ lineup, while others might prefer the Yankees’ collection of All Stars. The Reds behind a hot Johnny Cueto wouldn’t be a bad selection, nor would the Tigers with Justin Verlander. Is anyone taking the Pirates? Sometimes fate plays the strongest hand.

Listed below for comparison and further discussion are the individual lineups considered in this analysis.

AL East Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

AL Central Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

AL West Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.coM

NL East Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

NL Central Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

NL West Top Lineups

Note: Data as of July 20, 2011
Source: Baseball-reference.com and fangraphs.com

Yeah, it’s roastin’, man. Too hot to type.

But not too hot to dream.

[Photo Credit: From Up North and Jeffreywithtwof’s]

A music critic listens to the sounds of summer:

For all the hubbub of constant sound it is amazing how clearly the crack of a bat, the whoosh of a pitch (at least from the powerhouse Sabathia), and the leathery thud of the ball smothered in the catcher’s mitt cut through the textures. And if the hum of chattering provides the unbroken timeline and undulant ripple of this baseball symphony, the voices that break through from all around are like striking, if fleeting, solo instruments.

The most assertive soloists are the vendors. My favorite was a wiry man with nasal snarl of a voice who practically sang the words “Cracker Jack” as a three-note riff: two eighth notes on “Cracker,” followed by a quarter note on “Jack,” always on a falling minor third. (Using solfège syllables, think “sol, sol, mi.”) After a while I heard his voice drifting over from another section, and he had transposed his riff down exactly one step.

(Be sure to listen to the audio.)

[Photo Credit: beerhawkers.com…ah, the old place]

Dig 13 summer fruit desserts from the Goddess’ at Food 52.

Congratulations to Hideki Matsui on his 500th career professional home run.

Ichiro combined for well over 3000 hits in both leagues. And now Matsui has done the same with 500 homers.

It seems clear now that Ichiro, because his batting average, speed and defense did not diminish when he came over to America will be the more revered player by historians and fans in both countries. Though for a large part of their careers, the opposite was true.

[Photo from the Merced Sun Star]

It’s brutally hot in New York. Keep cool.

[Photograph by Cereal-Killer 72]

Live and smokin’.

Mark Teixeira comes across as polite and vanilla in interviews but he’s go the redass on the field. He plays hard, is a good fielder, and is easy to root for. I wonder if that’s the reason why he doesn’t face more criticism for his declining offensive game. He doesn’t get ripped in the papers. There are no vicious campaigns against him on-line. But the truth is, Teixeira is getting paid to be a superstar and .242/.345/.499 just doesn’t cut it.

[Photo Credit: Newsday]

Freddy Garcia had seven innings of shut out ball in his arm tonight, but in his last inning of work, a foul bunt nicked a pebble and grazed the outside of the bag to become a base hit. Later in the inning, Eduardo Nunez booted a tough-ish chance. So with two out and two on in the seventh, Girardi called on lefty Boone Logan to face Casey “The Eagle” Kotchman, who was three for three against Garcia and represented the go-ahead run. (In the game thread Alex Belth wondered when he turned into George Brett.)

Logan ran into terrible luck last night when Curtis Granderson lost the ball in roof. Then he knifed himself by rushing an easy double play into an error. I was worried he’d still be reeling. Logan started out ahead, but Kotchman refused to bite on an excellent 2-2 pitch and the count ran full. Logan dug deep and fired. The Eagle hacked away, but Logan blew it past him for strike three. He was pumped and so was I watching at home.

Great call by Girardi to get Logan back out there, that type of confidence-building outing can go a long way in the hot summer. That was the most important out of the game and the Rays last real chance at a comeback.

The game started off with a bang as Derek Jeter met his new business partner David Price. As Jeter singled, I wondered if maybe Price should have stuck one in his ribs instead. It would be smart business, they don’t want to appear too chummy. Granderson, batting second as usual, jumped on a low fastball and yanked it deep into the right field seats. I love when the Yanks score runs before making any outs.

Later in the first, Russell Martin made a bid for a two-run homer of his own, but it was caught just a few feet short of the centerfield wall. With Price on the mound, I had a feeling that might be it for scoring chances for awhile.

Freddy Garcia was good, but he courted danger fairly often. It was thickest in the fifth when Evan Longoria hit what I feared was a two-out, three-run homer to center. But Granderson tracked it down at breakneck speed and speared it just before crashing into the wall. Nice play.

David Robertson picked up for Logan in the eighth and retired the Rays in order with two whiffs, just as he did on Monday night. The Rays might actually be relieved to see Mariano enter the game just so they can wave goodbye to Robertson. We haven’t seen that since Joba in 2007, and really no other time that I can remember.

The Yankees tacked on two runs on two walks and a two-out bloop clutch knock by Eduardo Nunez. That made Mariano’s appearance pleasure without anxiety. Mariano had an excellent year in 2010. He had an excellent first half in 2011. But damn, if he doesn’t look dialed in for these last few outings. Watching him and Robertson lately, you understand how a manager develops crutches in the bullpen.

The final score was 4-0, and the bullpen was sublime, striking out five of the seven batters they faced and retiring them all in order.

A pessimist bails at the first sign of trouble. When three-fifths of the rotation started the second half with clunkers, I was worried their luck had run out. It didn’t help that it was the three guys we had the most questions about. But as is often the case, the actual results don’t fit the clean trajectory we trace for them. Freddy Garcia followed Bartolo Colon with a good start reminding us that their first-half effectiveness probably won’t evaporate instantaneously.

I think David Price will pitch a great game tonight, don’t you? I’m thinking he’s got some payback on his mind.

Here’s the lineup:

Derek Jeter SS
Curtis Granderson CF
Mark Teixeira 1B
Robinson Cano 2B
Nick Swisher RF
Russell Martin C
Andruw Jones DH
Eduardo Nunez 3B
Brett Gardner LF

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

The Tate.

[Picture via Hebdomania]

Over at BP, our man Kevin Baker considers realignment:

I’m old-school. That is to say, I’m a hidebound, head-in-the-sand, troglodyte traditionalist. Especially when it comes to baseball.

I was vehemently opposed to the entire idea of including a wild card in the playoffs. I hated the idea of inter-league play with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. I even viewed the original idea of dividing the leagues into divisions, a-way back in 1969, with a gimlet eye.

(One exception: I have always liked the designated hitter, mostly because I can’t stand watching professional athletes do something they can’t do, i.e., pitchers trying to hit. We don’t make linebackers kick field goals or goalkeepers—hockey or soccer—take penalty shots. Do those games suffer for it?)

So I’m none too happy with the latest proposals to expand the baseball playoffs yet again—and not just because they’re likely to extend the season through Thanksgiving.

Wait ’til you get to the Salsa Division and the Keillor-Terkel Raconteur Division. It’s a hoot.

Demon Rum

By John Schulian

Where there are sports writers, there is booze. It’s been that way since the first scribe raced a deadline and decided he deserved a pop afterward. Or maybe he was drinking while he committed his deathless prose to paper, just a little something to kill the pain of knowing that the desk was going to make a hash of it. All these years later, I’ve seen it work both ways, heard the funny stories that the sauce inspired, and the sad ones, too.

I was supposed to give a certain shaggy wordsmith a ride to the airport the day after Sugar Ray Leonard’s first comeback, in Worcester, Mass. But my hirsute friend never showed up in the hotel lobby, and he didn’t answer his room phone, so I had to take off without him. The next week I called him at his paper to make sure he was all right, and he told me the tale of how he’d fallen in with, if I recall correctly, a toothless barfly and her one-armed boyfriend. (The mind boggles at the proposition they must have put before him.) Somewhere along the line, they slipped him a mickey, stole all his money, and left him unconscious in a fleabag hotel. It was like listening to Charles Bukowski when he told the story, laughing and coughing, savoring every dirt-bag detail. Some guys you just can’t derail.

And then there was Pete Axthelm, a genuinely good soul and a great talent who was undone by alcohol. How lucky we are that he wrote “The City Game” when he was young and the lost nights had yet to take their toll. Ax wasn’t even 50 when he died, but in the clips of his final TV appearances, he could have passed for 75. That’s not the way his friends want to remember him. Better to think of the big smile on his face as he cashed a winning ticket at Churchill Downs.

The curious thing is, sports writers of my generation will tell you it was the old-timers who drank like they had hollow legs. The king of them, as far as I could tell, was Red Smith. As Wilfred Sheed once said, “Weight for age, Red was the greatest drinker I’ve ever seen.” He favored Scotch, lots of it, but only after he had worked so hard on his column that he had sweated through his Brooks Brothers oxford-cloth shirt. He was lifting a glass to his parched lips after the Preakness one year when his hands trembled so badly that Bill Nack’s wife grew visibly alarmed. Red put down his glass, took her hand, and, patting it gently, said, “Don’t worry, dear, it’s an old Irish affliction.”

With drinking, as with writing, the wisest thing to do was to admire Red, not compete with him. In Montreal during the 1981 baseball playoffs, I wound up at dinner with him, Roger Angell, Tom Boswell, Jane Leavy, and Mike Downey – not a bad lineup, huh? – and Red got into the Scotch pretty good. Before the evening was over, he was telling us about the annual Christmas party the New York papers used to have and how people would rewrite carols and holiday songs to make them fit the occasion. And then he sang “Hark the Herald Tribune” in that wonderful old man’s voice of his. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve wished I’d taped him.

Myself, I’ve never been much of a drinker. Don’t like the taste of the hard stuff, and I can go years between beers. I’ll drink wine with dinner, but that’s about it. The last time I got stupid with alcohol was at a party in Baltimore in the early 70s. I drank bourbon from the bottle until I was sufficiently inspired to do somersaults down the hallway of a friend’s apartment. A nice lady drove me home in the wee small hours of that cold winter’s night but refused to come inside with me, if you can imagine that. I went into a full pout and curled up on my front porch, saying I’d just fall asleep there and probably freeze to death. In her infinite wisdom, the nice lady said, “Have it your way,” and drove off. Eventually, I stumbled inside and didn’t come out for two days. I was so hung over, my eyelashes hurt.

It’s a good thing I knew I couldn’t run with the big dogs before I hit Chicago. Otherwise, I might have drowned in what the city’s newspaper booze hounds called the Bermuda Triangle of Drinking, three bars they tried to take down to the last drop every night: O’Rourke’s, Riccardo’s, and the Old Town Ale House. You could get decent Italian food at Riccardo’s, so I ate there once in a while, and I loved the jukebox at O’Rourke’s – it was one for the ages, with classical music, Miles Davis, and Hank Williams side by side. But get stupid drunk at any of those joints? No thanks. I just listened to the stories they generated, like the one about the night Nelson Algren and a Sun-Times columnist named Tom Fitzpatrick threw drinks at each other. Or were they spitting? Hell, I can’t remember. And if Algren and Fitz were still around, they might not remember, either.

All this happened just before newspapers were overrun by tight-assed careerists, so there were still reporters and editors who kept bottles in their desks in case they didn’t have time to duck out for a shot and a beer. And I’m not just passing along the legend. I saw it for myself one Friday night at the Sun-Times when I walked into the city room to get a drink of water. There was a long-in-tooth reporter with a quarter-full bottle of gin in one hand and a bottle with a few splashes of vermouth in the other. He was pouring one into the other, back and forth, back and forth, when he looked up at me with a glassy-eyed smile and said, “Welcome to my laboratory.”

Here’s mud in your eye.

Click here for the full “From Ali to Xena” archives.

Honey-roasted peaches with Marscapone and thyme.

Yeah, Nicole Franzen rules.

Peace to Mark W for hipping me to this ill mash-up.