I must admit that I never warmed up to Dave Winfield as a Yankee. Initially, I was excited when the Yankees signed him as a free agent during the winter of 1980-81. With an aging core of position players, the Yankees desperately needed a relatively young and athletic outfielder like Winfield. They also lacked thump from the right side of the plate; with Winfield now available to complement Reggie Jackson in the middle of the batting order, the Yankees appeared to have a thunderous righty-lefty combination.

Almost immediately, the New York media tried to sour the fan base on Winfield. I remember Mike Lupica, a poison pen if there ever was one, lamenting that the Yankees had spent millions of dollars on a “singles hitter” like Winfield. Admittedly, Winfield hit only 13 home runs in his first summer as a Yankee, the strike-shortened campaign of 1981. At times, Winfield looked more like a line-driver hitter than a pure power hitter. I think Winfield would have hit more home runs if not for the fact that he hit the ball so hard, with such incredible overspin. When Winfield connected with a pitch firmly, he hit searing line drives that tended to reach the outfield and then dip. For some reason, his swing lacked the lift of a classic power hitter.

Still, Lupica’s assessment of “singles hitter” was borderline ludicrous. Winfield had just come off a 20-homer season in San Diego. In 1982, his second season in the Bronx, Winfield would hit 37 home runs. By the time his career ended in 1995, he would compile 465 home runs and a lifetime slugging percentage of .475. Singles hitter, my eye. Perhaps Mr. Lupica would like to revise that description.

I’m not sure why I paid so much attention to Lupica, and all the other naysayers in the New York media who tried to belittle Winfield’s ability. Of course, I was all of 16 years old at the time, an impressionable teenager who took the words of older baseball experts too closely to heart. Still, their words seemed to carry more resonance in the fall of 1981, after Winfield endured a brutal World Series, gathering one hit in a disappointing six-game loss to the Dodgers. George Steinbrenner certainly bought into the perception, dubbing Winfield “Mr. May.”

With the seeds of postseason futility sown, I began to view Winfield as something of a disappointment as a hitter, and a failure in the clutch. First off, I was frustrated by Winfield’s log-cutting approach to hitting. Starting with a discernible hitch, he took a ridiculously large swing, unfurling his long arms toward the ball in such an exaggerated way, almost like a cartoon character in an old Bugs Bunny clip. (One frame of that gargantuan swing can be seen on his 1985 Topps card, which is probably the best of all the Winfield cards.) Too many times, his bat ended up hurtling down the third base line, threatening the livelihood of the poor third base coach, or the fans watching from the box seats near the dugout. The bat-throwing underscored the criticism of his hitting in the clutch. Unlike Jackson, Winfield rarely seemed to deliver that late-inning, game-turning blow that could transform a Yankee loss into an unlikely win. To this day, I have trouble remembering any landmark home runs, or even extra-base hits, that Winfield delivered for the Yankees.

Just for fun, I decided to take a look at the “clutch” statistics for Winfield’s career. With two outs and runners in scoring position, he batted a mediocre .255 with a pedestrian .431 slugging percentage. In late and close situations, he hit a bit better, .266 with a slugging percentage of .444. In tie games, his numbers improved to .271 and .455. All in all, the numbers show Winfield to be a mediocre player in the clutch, not as good as his usual performance, a little better than what I might have thought, and hardly Herculean.

Beyond his playing ability, Winfield could raise eyebrows through his demeanor. Trying too hard to sound cool and hip, he came across as arrogant in interviews. Cocky and confident, he walked with an exaggerated strut that looked like a Hollywood caricature. When a Yankee beat writer asked him to attend a charity event, Winfield agreed, but only after coming up with enough demands to make a diva proud. If anything, Winfield was out of touch with the common man.

None of this means that Winfield damaged the Yankees. On balance, he helped the franchise, albeit during the frustrating decade of the 1980s. He was durable, almost always playing 140 or more games a season. He was consistent, four times slugging .500 or better in pinstripes, and six times reaching the 100-RBI mark. Clutch or not, the man always played hard, running out every ground ball with a World Series passion, taking out middle infielders on double play balls, and chasing full bore after every fly ball that he could reach in left and right field.

When Winfield came up for Hall of Fame election, I did not hesitate to offer my own imaginary vote. I would have immediately put a check next to his name on the ballot. The man put up Hall of Fame numbers, and did so for a long time, his big league career lasting 22 seasons. He was a gifted and hard-working five-tool athlete who hit with power, stole bases, and played a wonderful right field.

He might have been a little hard to root for on a personal level, but if Winfield were in his prime today, I’d gladly add him to the Yankees’ starting lineup. David Mark Winfield could play right field for a winning team any day of the week.

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

According to reports, the Yanks have signed Freddy Garcia to a minor league deal.

The other day I mused offhandedly about how cool it would be to own a baseball team, and also how completely impossible. And that made me think of minor-league or independent-league team ownership, which is still kind of a possibility for mere mortals – and which, these days, has a lot more room for quirk. Given the choice between two clubs, as a general rule of thumb, you’re probably better off joining the one that doesn’t require Bud Selig’s approval.

Back in the fall I read Neal Karlen’s Slouching Towards Fargo, which is an affectionate portrait of the St. Paul Saints circa 1996 and 1997, an independent Northern League team owned in part by Bill Veeck’s son Mike (decades after his Disco Demolition Night debacle) that boasts a pig delivering baseballs to the mound, a nun in the stands  offering massages, appearances by part-owner Bill Murray, sumo-wrestling contests for opposing managers between innings, and much more. “Fun Is Good,” is the Saints’ motto, and it’s refreshing to watch a team that doesn’t take itself too seriously. (Bless the Yankees, but you know it would do them good to lighten up once in a while). Daryl Strawberry, who redeemed himself with the Saints shortly before joining the Yankees and salvaging his career, serves as something of a focal point in the book, representing the Saints’ function as a haven of second- and third-chances for baseball types and locals; there are also draft holdouts, washups, career minor leaguers and female pitcher Ila Borders. The Saints have room for just about everyone.

Author Neal Karlen also tries to tell the story of his own sort of redemption, as he was initially sent to Saint Paul by Rolling Stone’s Jann Wenner to dig up mud and write a story eviscerating Bill Murray and Strawberry. But there’s little suspense or originality in the story of how he ultimately grows a conscience once away from the big city. This part of the book was less successful, for me – partly because Karlen’s writing (and, to be fair, editing – the book is very unevenly paced) is not up to the standards of his material, and partly because his view of cynical and immoral New York City media types vs. big-hearted Midwesterners struck me as overly pat. He frequently brings up petty grudges against other writers or media-world denizens, and he’s too on-the-nose when writing about how baseball and the Saints will heal us all; it’s a theme that would have benefited from subtlety. Still, Karlen does a good job of chronicling the fascinating collection of individuals who cluster around the Saints, a haven for nonconformists, and whatever his flaws as a writer, they don’t prevent the charm of the team itself from coming through loud and clear.

Kevin Kernan has a piece on Dellin Betances over at the Post.

Lazy Saturday in the Boogie Down. Sunny but chilly. Think warm thoughts…Derek Jeter is working hard down in Florida.

Also, check out this interview with Brian Cashman at The Trentonian:

JN: With Russell Martin coming on board, is that an indicator that Montero will probably start the year back at Scranton?

BC: It’s an indicator of who’s going to be the starting catcher. It’s going to be Russell Martin, period. Then after that, the back-up situation’s going to be open for discussion between Cervelli, Montero, Romine, we’ll see. Or all of them. … They all could split time and get a little education in the process.

JN: With Montero, obviously the questions are with his defense. I know the Yankees believe he can catch right now. How far does the organization believe he has to go before its certain he can catch long-term.

BC: We believe he can catch, and we believe he can catch long-term.

JN: What are you and the organization seeing, then, that perhaps other organizations are missing when it comes to Montero’s defensive abilities?

BC: He’s come a long way. The defensive side is something he’s had to work on a long time. I’d liken it separately to a guy like Wade Boggs, who came through the farm system of the Red Sox, always hit, but people said he can’t play defense. He ultimately turned himself into a perennial Gold Glove-winning third baseman. Hard work can close the gap on deficiencies. Derek Jeter made 56 errors in the South Atlantic League. … The minor leagues is (where you) work out your problems, and he’s certainly closing the gap. He’s not there yet, but he’s pretty damn close. We believe he’s better than some starting catchers, defensively, in the big leagues right now.

[Picture by Bags]

Good stuff from Joel Sherman today in the Post. First, from his column:

Look, next month is 22 years at The Post for me, so I like a juicy rogue general manager story as much as the next tabloid nut. I just wish the facts — not appearances — corroborated the story du jour that goes like this: Cashman has gone off the pinstriped reservation because he wants to get himself fired or to end up as a small-market GM to prove he can win big without a huge payroll.

Cashman insisted to me he does not want out. His friends insisted to me that he does not want out. A few weeks back, this guy rappelled down the side of a building for his kids. So if the conspiracy theories are now to be believed, that same guy now is willing to pull his kids from school in Connecticut — and his wife away from her beloved twin sister — all in the name of having, what, the Pittsburgh Pirates’ payroll?

And from this exclusive with Baby Boss Hal Steinbrenner:

As for the Soriano matter, Steinbrenner said he listened to Cashman, but decided to authorize the signing because he felt the club needed an “impact” move this offseason. However, he blessed Cashman’s behavior at the press conference.

“I value his opinion and his advice,” Steinbrenner said. “That does not mean I am always going to go with that advice and all of my VPs know that I might go a different way. There are no hard feelings between Cash and I. There never was. Reasonable men can differ in opinions.

“I keep reading about dissension and discord. We are a well-functioning company. The bosses have a decision to make. Sometimes people don’t agree with those decisions. So I told him, ‘You are always honest with the media, be honest now. Tell them what you have to tell them.’ I was already onto the next decision. I told him, ‘You and I are fine. Answer in any way you want.’ We are not always going to be on the same page. It is my job to think what is best for the family, partners and company.”

Over at the Post, Joel Sherman takes a break from his vacation with some thoughts about Bartolo Colon, Andy Pettitte, and the Yankees’ starting rotation. This caught my eye:

The Yankees also feel good that they have so many starting pitching prospects near the majors. The Yankees believe that all five starters they are projecting to begin at Triple-A: Andrew Brackman, D.J. Mitchell, Hector Noesi, David Phelps and Adam Warren are legitimate prospects and that they will have two of the best pitching prospects in the minors at Double-A in lefty Manuel Banuelos and righty Dellin Betances plus two other starters the Yankees view as prospects, lefty Shaeffer Hall and righty Graham Stoneburner. The Yankees think with that many quality arms that one or two from the group – at the least – should help in 2011 either by pitching in the majors or by being used in a trade for a starter.

…What would be truly fascinating is if Banuelos and/or Betances thrived in spring, which is not out of the question considering the advanced word on their skills. Joe Girardi just demonstrated his power within the organization when he was one of the votes in favor of signing Soriano that influenced Hal Steinbrenner to overrule Brian Cashman’s recommendation not to give Soriano a three-year, $35 million deal to be a set-up man. Well, what if Girardi voices the opinion that trying to win in the AL East with, say, Sergio Mitre in your rotation is not sound. What do the Yankees do then?

Under Cashman, the Yankees have treated their best pitching prospects like porcelain dolls and due to limitations last year, Banuelos and Betances will both have caps in the 125 innings range. Neither has had even a full season at Double-A. In other words, Cashman has protected just these kinds of pitchers from too-quick promotion and heavy workloads in recent years.

My guess is that the GM will try to curtail even the spark of having Banuelos or Betances make the team by making them part of the early cuts. But I just wonder what happens if, for example, Betances throws in a way to enliven imaginations and in an early March organizational meeting Girardi voices the desire to see more of the 6-foot-8 righty.

Excellent stuff, Mr. Sherman. Glad you took the time to weigh in.

[Photo Credit: SI.com]

In honor of the upcoming celebration of ancient Roman martyrs:

Squeaky Valentine.

His real name is Fred Valentine, which is still not too shabby. Born in Mississippi in 1935, he debuted with the Orioles in 1959 and went on to play with the Washington Senators. His only very good year came with them, 1n 1966, when he hit a highly (and uncharacteristically) impressive .351/.455/.806 for an OPS+ of 131. Two years later his OPS+ was 86, and that was his last season.

If I were a GM I would hire any player named “Squeaky Valentine” so fast it’d make your head spin. As an added bonus, he has a 964 similarity score to someone named Coaker Triplett.

Yanks sign Bartolo Colon to a minor league deal…

If you’ve been a follower of the Banter for a while, you know we’ve assigned little “nicknames” to some of our favorite Yankees (and opponents). Some of these names are based upon physical stature (ex. diminutive Dustin Pedroia has earned the moniker “My Little Pony”). Some are based upon anagrams of their names (ex. Sergio Mitre anagrams to “Orgies Timer”).

Well, back on August 7, 2008, during a Rangers/Yankees game, in the comments section of a post discussing (speak of the recent devil) Joba Chamberlain’s health, a new anagram was born. I had brought up for discussion the ‘do of a Texas Rangers pitcher with the delicious name of Warner Madrigal. A few moments later, after running his name through my anagramming software (it shouldn’t surprise anyone to read that I possess such an item), I chimed in that the chunky reliever’s name anagrammed to “MARGINAL REWARD”.  A legend was born.

Now Madrigal’s legend was actually conceived earlier that season, when the 6’1″, 265-pounder made his made his major league debut in a game at Yankee Stadium.  With the Rangers leading 7-6 in the bottom of the 7th, Madrigal took to the mound, and was greeted thusly:
B. Abreu, Ground-rule Double (Fly Ball to LF Line)
A. Rodriguez, Walk
J. Giambi, Double to LF (Line Drive to Deep LF); Abreu Scores; Rodriguez Scores
J. Posada, Double to RF (Ground Ball); Giambi Scores
R. Cano, Single to RF (Ground Ball); Posada to 3B
W. Betemit, Groundout: 2B-P; Posada Scores; Cano to 2B
B. Gardner, Wild Pitch; Cano to 3B
B. Gardner, Single to RF (Line Drive to Short CF-RF); Cano Scores
Jamey Wright relieves Madrigal

Madrigal ended his debut with an ERA of 162.00, which exceeded his Body Mass Index only slightly.

He recovered enough to finish the year with an ERA under 5.00, but 2009 saw him battle wildness and a pesky forearm problem. After spending 2010 in the minors, pitching well for Oklahoma City, the Rangers released him at the end of the year.

Now, according to a tweet from Kevin Goldstein from Baseball Prospectus, the Yanks have signed “The Marginal One”, presumably to a minor-league deal.

Let’s hope he can make the big club, if only to see him possibly wrap up a blowout win for equally “full-bodied” CC Sabathia.

Brian Cashman made headlines this morning because he is candid–some call it cunning, others call it self-destructive. He’s in the news because Andy Pettitte hasn’t made up his mind about pitching in 2011 yet, the Yanks are short a starting pitcher and because there isn’t much else going on. Oh, and because Cashman isn’t shy about talking.

I’m still amazed that the Yankees have had a GM for as long as they’ve had Cashman. It’s only natural that at this point in Yankee his career, Cashman has as many, if not more, detractors as he has supporters. I’ve always found him appealing enough as a public figure as far as suits go, and wouldn’t pretend to offer any kind of sound evaluation of him as a GM. His time in New York won’t last forever and Cashman’s place in team history is already secure (fantastic survivor, ineffective underachiever). One thing is sure–he’s good copy, and in New York, that’s half the battle.

Via Hardball Talk, Cash drops science, or something like that.

Over at PB, Cliff takes on Cashman’s comments about Joba Chamberlain.

Do you dream about baseball during the middle of winter? When it is grey and cold, chunks of ice on sidewalk, banks of snow against the buildings, do you picture long summer days, green grass, men spitting and laughing, the smell of beer and urine, the humidity, and the tension of even the most routine ball game? I can’t imagine what it must be like to live in a different part of the country, where it is warm and you can have a catch at any time of the year.

Here in the northeast, baseball is sleeping unless you go to an indoor hitting cage. The game seems distant now but thoughts of summer are never far away. I covet my fantasies and protect them as if wrapped in a blanket to protect them from the elements. I daydream about Mariano entering a game to his theme song and picture the grace and precision of Alex Rodriguez’s swing. I take comfort in knowing that Derek Jeter will bust ass down the first base line every chance he gets. Yet I am most excited about the unknown–which young player will make an impression, what will we see–even a minor detail–that we’ve never seen before?

I usually keep these thoughts to myself  but figured I’d share them with you since you might be dreaming too.

There are twenty days left before pitchers and catchers report to spring training for the Yankees.

[Photo Credit: Timothy A. Clary/AFP/Getty Images]

Well, sometimes you make a plan and while it might not be popular, you stick by the plan, you lay low, and then…you blow it all up. The Angels have been criticized this winter for not doing enough, but last night they went out and traded for Vernon Wells. Not just that, they are picking up the rest of his seemingly unmovable contract. MLB Trade Rumors collects some reactions to the deal; Hardball Talk has more.

What was it P.T. Barnum was supposed to have said?

Closer to home, old pals Johnny Damon and Manny Ramirez have agreed to join the Rays. At least it’ll be fun to see them around more often this season.

Via the inimitable Pat Kiernan, yesterday’s mass mob arrests in the New York area have unearthed some fantastic new mob nicknames. As a group, mafia types really excel at the nickname, perhaps even more than ballplayers; today I thought I’d try to merge the two genres. Herewith, actual mob nicknames from the Daily News, and their imaginary position on the baseball diamond:

Tony Bagels
Two good options here: the reliable ace who keeps putting zeros up on the scoreboard, or the hapless rookie still hitting .000 two weeks into his first stint in the majors.

The Claw
Knuckleballer.

Jack the Whack
Dumb-as-a-post platooned corner outfielder who plays unfortunate defense but, at the plate, runs into one every so often and hits it to the next county.

Fat Larry
Elder-statesman DH beloved by teammates and groupies coast-to-coast.

Baby Fat
Fat Larry’s younger brother, a perenially disappointing 3B who would be more suited to DH but is just not a good enough hitter.

Jello
Popular hefty lefty starting pitcher.

Meatball
This would work for like 40% of all Major League players, actually.

Vinny Carwash
Middle reliever who’s nothing to write home about except for his one truly fantastic secondary pitch, probably a changeup.

Junior Lollipops
Light-hitting shortstop who plays just good enough defense and smacks just enough seeing-eye singles to stay in the league basically forever.

Mush
Ancient first base coach famous for his heckling gifts with regards to opponents and umps.

The Beard
I did not know Brian Wilson was a member of the Genovese crime family.

Nighthawk
You know what? I’m not going to make fun of anyone nicknamed Nighthawk. Likely not someone you want to mess with.

Baby Shacks
Former Rookie of the Year 2B who never lives up to the hype.

Mousey
Bullpen catcher and professional butt of jokes.

Johnny Glasses
Grouchy veteran umpire.

Brian Cashman’s behavior in recent weeks has some wondering if he’s auditioning for a role in a remake of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. How else to explain Cashman’s decision to throw dirt on the signing of Rafael Soriano at his Yankee Stadium press conference? It’s one thing to be honest in answering reporters questions; it’s quite another to submarine one of your newest players, a pitcher who will be extremely important to Yankee fortunes in the late innings.

And then, as if we needed more evidence of Cashman cracking under the stress, we learn that earlier this winter he actually offered Carl Pavano a one-year contract worth $10 million. After misappropriating nearly $40 million of Yankee funds on Pavano, a man who clearly had little interest in actually working (or playing) for his money, Cashman apparently felt obligated to pad Pavano’s wallet again. Either Cashman knows nothing about pitching, as his critics have maintained for years, or he knows nothing about the lack of character of certain players. Can you imagine the reaction of the New York media, not to mention Yankee fans, to the news of Carl Pavano returning to the Bronx? That would have gone over about as well as the news of Pete Rose opening up an OTB parlor next to the Hall of Fame.

So what exactly is going on with Cashman? Is he, as some conspiracy theorists maintain, greasing the skids for his own departure at the end of 2011, when his contract expires? I guess that’s as good an explanation as any, but it does little to assuage Yankee fans who are concerned about what happens over the next ten months. The Yankees still have work to do. They will need to address the issue of starting pitching at some point. They will have to decide whether to surrender Jesus Montero in any deal for a frontline starter. And they will have to make the decision of whether to trade Joba Chamberlain now, move him back to the rotation, or let him settle into an inglorious role as a sixth- or seventh-inning relief pitcher. These decisions cannot wait for Cashman’s successor; they need to be settled before or during the upcoming season.

Given some of the statements coming from Cashman of late, I’m not sure if any of these issues will be resolved properly. If that’s the case, then perhaps it will soon be time to start thinking about who will be Cashman’s successor…

***

If there’s a positive development to come out of this strange postseason, it’s this: the inability to reel in Cliff Lee has forced the organization to address other, less publicized needs, like the catching, the bullpen, and the bench. The Yankees have had plenty of money to spend on these areas, which has resulted in the net gain of Russell Martin, Rafael Soriano and Pedro Feliciano, and now Andruw Jones.

As I wrote in this space a month ago, the addition of Jones, 33, made so much sense that I thought it would never happen, and yet it did! Jones put up an OPS of .931 against left-handers last season; similar numbers should play nicely on a team that is overloaded with southpaw swinging outfielders. On any given day, Jones can spell Brett Gardner in left, Curtis Granderson in center field, or even Jorge Posada at DH. With Jones batting seventh or eighth against left-handers, the Yankees should have good balance toward the bottom of their batting order.

Defensively, Jones is not nearly the all-world center fielder he was with the Braves, but still has enough speed and arm to spell Granderson, while spending more significant amounts of time in the corners. Jones is far from the defensive liability that Marcus Thames was; as long as the Yankees don’t ask him to play the field every day, he should hold up fine in the outer pasture.

I also like Jones’ degree of postseason experience. He has played in 17 postseason series (all dating back to his days with the Braves), where he has accumulated ten home runs in 238 at-bats and reached base 36 per cent of the time. Clearly, the postseason has not fazed Jones, an important consideration for a Yankee team that has missed the playoffs only once since 1995.

For those keeping score, Jones is the first native of Curacao to play for the Yankees since Hensley “Bam Bam” Meulens in 1993. At one time a top-notch prospect in the Yankee system, Meulens never found the plate discipline that he needed to become the star the franchise had once envisioned. (He also didn’t have a position; he was too stiff to play third base, and lacked the athleticism needed to play the outfield.) But Bam Bam has found success in his second baseball life, as the batting coach of the defending champion San Francisco Giants. Giants players rave about Meulens, who coaxed a career season out of Aubrey Huff and oversaw the hitting of Rookie of the Year Buster Posey. Bam Bam’s next big project will be finding a way to fine-tune the swing of Pablo Sandoval, while also keeping him separated from the buffet table.

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

According to Jon Heyman, Andruw Jones is now a memeber of the New York Yankees.

[Photo Credit: FLC]

Here’s the latest Yankee news from Lo-Hud, MLB Trade Rumors and Hardball Talk. Brian Cashman is at the center of it all–is he a straight-up honest guy, has be botched another off-season, is he effective, is he on a short leash? Which one of these?