"A New York Treasure" --Village Voice

BUMMING John Thomson 3-hit

BUMMING

John Thomson 3-hit the Yanks yesterday at the Stadium, as the Rangers swept a series for the first time ever in the Bronx. Thomson was nasty, but the Yankees were lifeless as well. Bernie Williams hit into a first inning double play in all three games, Jason Giambi continues to hear the boo’s, and Jorge Posada went 2-17 on the homestand (the Yanks were 1-5 over that span). Plain and simple, the Yankees are mired in a slump. I guess this won’t be1998-redux after all. Think Mt. Saint George is about to blow in Tampa?

After the game, GM Brian Cashman didn’t mince words:

“In a nutshell, we stink right now.”

…”[We stink] really in all aspects,” Cashman continued. “Both mentally and performance-wise on the offense, defense and pitching sides.

“We look flat. That’s how you look when you’re not playing well, when you’re making errors, when you’re not hitting. I think people describe it as flat. You can describe it any way you want, but it’s not good.”

…”Maybe going into the jungle will shock us back into playing good baseball,” GM Brian Cashman said. “Maybe that’s what we need because we look real flat right now.

…Cashman has also heard from George Steinbrenner, who, according to the GM, “feels the way you’d think he would feel” about the way his $180 million team is playing.

The Red Sox beat the Angels yesterday at the Fens, and now share first place with the Yankees. Let the rivalry begin (again). Pass the Pepto.

Here is my question: which Giambi will have a game-winning or game-altering hit first?

FLAT Let’s try this

FLAT

Let’s try this again. I’m puppy-sitting at my cousin’s place down here in beautiful Greenwich Village this weekend, and unsuccesfully tried a post about the Yankee game this afternoon. It didn’t woik. If there is half a message that appears on the page, please excuse my sloppiness. But it fits the mood of the afternoon, as the Yankees dropped another game to Texas, this time by the score of 5-2.

While we are well aware of the Yankees’ weakness—the bullpen and the defense, it has been the offense that has let them down of late. Texas retired the last 16 batters of the game, and the Yankees have now lost their third series in a row. After starting the year on fire, at 18-3, the Bombers have gone 9-12.

Hideki Matsui made two errors in left field this afternoon, and Joe Torre said the team is “flat.” I’m certain that the Sunday papers will be filled with columns about how lousy the Yanks have played recently. Isn’t that something to look forward to? Oy.

The Red Sox failed to take advantage though, as the streaking Angels rallied to knock Boston off 6-2. If you think the New York press will be grim tomorrow, wait til we get a load of what the Boston media rips into Trot Nixon. Nixon, the Red Sox right fielder made a terribly embarrasing mental error late in the game, which will haunt the Dirt Dog for a long while.

With men on second and third and one out in the 8th inning (or was it the 9th?), Nixon caught a fly ball in foul territory and then, thinking it was third out, flipped the ball into the stands.

Ugh.

Maybe the Yanks and Sox will lose again tomorrow just to get good and ready for their three-game set which begins Monday.

Stay tuned…

FLAT I had to go

FLAT

I had to go into work this afternoon, so I missed another lame performance from the Yanks, who fell to the Rangers

DOUBLE VISION Jay Jaffe

DOUBLE VISION

Jay Jaffe and I were both in attendence at the Yankees-Angels game on Thurday night. Check out his write-up of the game, and if you’ve got a little extra scratch, consider snagging some of his official “Futility Infielder” gear. Made for goils as well as for the fellas.

WAIT TIL NEXT YEAR

WAIT TIL NEXT YEAR

Steve Keane over at The Eddie Kranepool Society is understandably exasperated with the Mets season.

I have never seen a player injure himself the way Mike Piazza did last night. He moved back from an inside pitch and looks like he may have pulled or torn his groin. Unbelievable. If the groin is torn, then Piazza will be gone for at least 6 weeks which may as well be next year. As it stands now 1-4 on this road trip 17-25 overall 12 games
back of the Braves with no sign that things will turn around it may be time to look at our options.

With Piazza now out, Keane suggests that the Great Mets Fire Sale of 2003 start now. It’s hard to disagree.

BUCK TOWN In Buck

BUCK TOWN

In Buck Showalter’s emotional return to Yankee Stadium the Rangers clipped the Yankess 8-5 in 12 innings. The game features some nifty defense, including a shoe-string catch by Hideki Matsui in extra innings, and two stellar plays by Texas left-fielder Donnie Sadler. (The Rangers gunned down two Yankee runners trying to score last night.) Hank Blalock had six RBI to lead Texas.

According to the Times:

Blalock, 22, who entered the game with a .371 average, highest in the majors. Blalock ripped a three-run double off the left-field wall against Clemens in the second, and 10 innings later, he won the game with another three-run double off Juan Acevedo.

After trailing 5-1, the Yanks tied the game and had plenty of chances to win the game, but they couldn’t get the big hit (both teams left 14 runners on base). Roger Clemens put an end to all the speculation surrounding his chance to notch win number 300 in Boston next week, although he is due to make his next two starts vs. the Sox. Rocket walked a season high 5, but also struck out 10.

It was a night of dumb luck for Raul Mondesi. In the first inning, after Clemens struck out Jurassic Carl Everett and Hank Blalock, he issued a base on balls to Alex Rodriguez, who promptly stole second. Rafael Palmeiro singled to right, and Mondesi had plenty of time to nail A Rod at the plate. Instead, he air-mailed the throw directly into the Rangers dugout.

I thought it was pretty funny. Everett was called out on strikes and he argued the call. Clemens reared back and was throwing gas. So was Mondesi. The inning had a distinct Nuke LaLoosh feel.

Hours later, in the bottom of the 12th, Mondesi hit a home run which just nicked the left-field foul pole. But it was called a foul ball, and nobody on the Yankee bench had a good enough look at it, so there was no arguement.

Just a long, stupid night for Mondesi and the Yanks.

Fortunately for the Bombers, the Angels edged the Red Sox in Boston, 6-5. The Yanks hold their slim lead on the Sox by a game.

OUCH One of my

OUCH

One of my favorite people that I ever worked with in the film business is a kid named Shawn Nuzzo. I hired Nuzzo as a runner on “The Blair Witch Project II” (don’t laugh, that job paid for my turntables), and trained him as an apprentice film editor; the following year, we worked on the equally memorable cinematic gem, “Swimfan,” turned out to be my final gig before I chose to leave the business. How can I describe Nuzzo? He doesn’t look like Fred Flinstone exactly, but he looks like he grew up in Bedrock (Long Island actually). Besides being a singer in a punk rock band, Nuzzo, now in his mid-20s, is a Yankee fan. He came of age during the dark days of the late ’80s, and early ’90s—Oscar Azocar (who appears in this week’s edition of “The Pinstriped Bible”) was one of his favorites.

Anyhow, Nuzzo was great to have around the cutting room, because I had someone to gasbag about the Yankees with. Working late, as we often did, was less painful, when we were able to listen to the Yankee game on the radio. One of the best parts of following the Yanks with Shawn was how often we disagreed about the team we both loved: he loved Sterling and Kay, I did not; I loved Nick Johnson; he did not.

I bought the hype about Johnson before I ever saw him play, and when I did see him, I fell in love with the kid. I just liked his looks. I understood why Torre liked him too. It wasn’t just a Pizzan thing (although I’m sure that didn’t hurt); like Torre when he was coming up, Johnson looked older than he was because of his doughy features. He could have played the heavy in an old gangster movie. Nickie looked as if he would right at home having played in the ‘teens or the 1920s. Nuzzo, on the other hand, disliked Johnson because of the way he looked. No questions asked. He just didn’t like his looks. The two of us would go back and forth about him to no avail. I foolishly thought I could change Nuzzo’s mind about Johnson: never happened.

I bring this up because just a few days ago I was thinking to myself how nice it’s been to see Johnson finally start to develop into the player he was predicted to be. Maybe I should call Nuzzo, and see what he has to say now, I thought. Of course, I thought too soon. When I heard that Johnson will miss the next 4-6 weeks with a hand injury last night before the game, all I could think of was Nuzzo. Nuzzo, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, saying, “I told you so.”

According to The New York TImes:

It was almost as if things had gone too well for Nick Johnson. His wrist and thumb injuries from spring training had disappeared, and he was having a fabulous season. Then he fouled a ball back on Wednesday, and everything changed.

Johnson felt a tingling sensation in his right hand, the same hand that bothered him so much in 2000 that he missed the entire season.

…Johnson was somber but managed a joke. “Just got to keep trying to strengthen it,” he said. “That’s the only thing I can do. Maybe drink some milk.”

Somewhere, Shawn Nuzzo is not smiling.

Johnson isn’t the Yankees only casualty. It looks as if reliever Steve Karsay is done for the season. This isn’t entirely surprising, and it may not take the bullpen blowing a couple of games to Boston this coming week for Brian Cashman to swing a deal. According to Lee Sinins:

Yankees P Steve Karsay had another setback while rehabbing his shoulder injury, will see Dr. James Andrews today and there is concern that he could be out for the season.

After 2.35 ERA/21 RSAA and 3.26 ERA/11 RSAA seasons, Karsay’s been on the DL for the whole season. He has a 3.88 career ERA, compared to his league average of 4.62, and 47 RSAA in 321 games.

It is only a slight exaggeration to say every single pitcher in baseball is now being mentioned as potential trade bait to go into the Yankees bullpen.

The news for the Mets was even more dire, as Mike Piazza strained his groin attempting to avoid an inside pitch by Jason Schmidt last night in San Francisco. PIazza had just started to hit too. Although there is no official news yet, Piazza had to be carried off the field and the news is not good:

“He’s in a great deal of pain,” said Jay Horwitz, the Mets’ media relations director. “It’s a substantial injury.”

Bummer.

JUST RATTLE YOUR JEWELRY

JUST RATTLE YOUR JEWELRY

My cousin Scott—an avid Red Sox fan—works on the floor of the Exchange. He hooked me up with choice seats for the Yankee game last night: Section 4, Box 12, Row A! (Hey now.) The seats were just to the left of home plate, three rows back. It is a strange vantage point—you are slightly lower than the playing field—but remarkable all the same. (The phonies sitting around us were annoying—many of them didn’t even bother watching the game—but I expected it to be clown town down there, so it was part of the fun.) You get a great look at the hitters, especially when they are on deck. Watching these guys, I was struck at just how big most of them are: Giambi is a moose. Matsui and Mondesi are stacked too: ass and thighs for days. Troy Glaus? Dag. The man is a truck. These guys are simply not Hondu, Boog Powell big, they are all ripped.

You know who surprised me the most? Soriano. The guy doesn’t look as thin as he does on television. He’s got legs for days. Man, the kid looks like a horse. Soriano has been compared to a young Sammy Sosa, and it has been suggested that he may eventually bulk up like Sosa. Quite frankly, he doesn’t need to. He’s plenty cut as it is. Watching him take his practice swings in the on-deck circle was the most memorable part of the evening. Soriano coils back and unleashes that quick, vicious swing, as if he had been designed by a video-game programmer or a comic book artist: it’s like liquid excitement. It’s so flashy, it doesn’t seem real. It’s like a self-conscious swing that a teenager would concoct looking at himself in the mirror, because it looked cool.

Soriano didn’t just look good taking warm-up swings last night either. He opened the game with a homer, later added a triple, and had a couple of deep flyouts, which left the crowd gasping as well. Derek Jeter had three hits, Bernie had two, and the rest of the Yankee congo line was back as the Yankees pounded the Angels 10-4. (The Sox creamolished the Rangers in Boston, and the Yanks remain one game up.)

Jeff Weaver wasn’t great, but he pitched well enough (perhaps he was thrown off by all the run support). I like Weaver, I like the fact that he’s a red ass, but his delivery, the way he gathers himself, is odd. He just slings the ball up there. He’s the inverse of Tim Hudson, or Mariano Rivera. We were treated to an appearance by Rivera in the ninth, and he was beautiful to watch. His motion is fluid and economical, and from where we were sitting, you could see just how much movement his pitches have. Mmmm.

All in all, it was a satisfying night, and we went home happy.

LEAKY PEN

Steve Karsay had a set-back in his rehab yesterday, and The Daily News is reporting that he could be through for the year. Jose Contreras—who apparently came to the States without a four-seam fastball—is on his way back to the big club, just in time for the Boston series. If the pen gets rocked by the Sox, look for George to press the panic button and make a move for a reliever pronto.

ONE FOR THE MONEY…

ONE FOR THE MONEY…

ESPN is running a “Moneyball” blue plate special this afternoon. Catch an excerpt from Michael Lewis’ new book, along with related articles from Rob Neyer and Eric Neel. Neyer also has an excellent interview with Lewis that is worth checking out.

There are several compelling exchanges, but my favorite bit was when Neyer asked Lewis:

RN: …So what was the hardest thing to leave out of the book?

ML: Well it was funny to know that the players refer to Barry Zito’s San Francisco apartment “The Stabbin’ Cabin.”

RN: Hrmm, I think I’ll leave that one alone …

Anything else?

ML: There were story lines that spun right off the Oakland A’s that led more deeply into other clubs, especially the Yankees, Rangers, Blue Jays, and Red Sox. I wrote a chapter about watching a game with Blue Jays GM J.P Ricciardi that might have been the funniest thing in the book — J.P being a very funny man — but I had to cut it, because it just got in the way of the story. I think someone ought to do what I had hoped to do, and take apart the business mind of Rangers owner Tom Hicks. Again, it just didn’t fit in my story. The Oakland character I was saddest to lose was Tim Hudson.

I don’t know that I would have left the Zito thing alone, but that’s just me—I love that kind of “North Dallas Forty” bawdy horseshit. Plus, I don’t write for ESPN. I would also loved to have read more about Tim Hudson, and the Ricciardi segment sounds terrific too. But I admire Lewis’ criticial facilities, because anything that takes away from the story is ultimately superfluous, and must be cut (there goes my editing background rearing its ugly head).

Anyhow, don’t miss out on any of the fun.

FREDDY GOT FINGERED After

FREDDY GOT FINGERED

After the Yanks bombed Seattle’s erstwhile ace Freddy Garcia last week, I wondered what had gone wrong with him (Garcia was roughed up again last night). Derek Zumsteg wrote an excellent column about Garcia over at Baseball Prospectus earlier this week. It seems that Freddy likes to party, and not only that, he may have playing hurt for some time now:

Garcia’s a partier. It’s known, and it’s been interesting to see local sportswriters tiptoe around the issue, once afraid to mention it and now going so far as to say he is in fact a partier, but offering no actual proof. There are questions about Garcia’s work ethic and preparation, and it’s particularly awful to see him when he comes completely unraveled. There’s a look on his face as if he’s already checked out for the game as he serves up fastballs hitters can smoke, and I start to wish Bob Melvin would walk out to the mound, ask Freddy if he was injured, and then kick him in the balls so he can call in an emergency replacement from the bullpen. I don’t really think anyone should kick anyone in the balls, by the way, that’s just how frustrating Freddy’s been to watch. I want to reach down from the stands and throttle him and say, “if you don’t want to pitch, fake a muscle pull, don’t keep giving up runs before we can get someone up in the bullpen. Intentionally walk every batter if you have to, it’ll be less painful.”

AND THEN THERE WAS

AND THEN THERE WAS ONE

The Angels handed the Yanks their ass on a platter once again at the Stadium last night. The Bombers have now lost three-straight, and now lead the Sox, who defeated Texas 7-1, by one game. Boomer Wells wasn’t terrible, but he lost his first game of the year. Scott Spezio went 4-4, and wishes he could play against the Yankess all the time. (The most interesting play of the night came when Hideki Matsui and Derek Jeter almost cut down Spezio at the plate as he tagged from third on a fly ball—Buster Olney has a great recap of the play in the Times.)

Point blank, the Yankee offense is slumping. Giambi still can’t see; Lil’ Sori—whose father passed away yesterday, isn’t hitting jack-boil-scratch, and Bernie has cooled down as well (Bernie kills me, when he slumps he turns into a poor man’s Rod Carew). Of course, the biggest concern in the BX, is the Yankees sorry excuse for a bullpen. Filip Bondy reports:

The Yanks lost again, however, and their bullpen has a gaping hole. There is nothing sexy about middle relief. Juan Acevedo isn’t comfortable in the role of baton passer. Acevedo gave up a grand slam to Spiezio on Tuesday, another scream for attention. Torre says there is something wrong with Acevedo’s mechanics, but the manager probably suspects it is more than that. Ever since the temporary closer has been asked to be a permanent middle man, he hasn’t approached the game the same way.

“They have to feel important,” Torre was saying yesterday, about the delicate egos of long relievers. “You always shower alone. You don’t start and you don’t finish.”

From a temperamental point of view, Osuna is much better suited to this sort of existence than Acevedo. His ego fits more easily into the corner of the clubhouse, and in the bullpen.

Olney hit the nail on the head when he wrote:

The Yankees need somebody to give the starters a breather, as they wait for their second wind to kick in.

I watched the game with Emily at her place upstate last night, and was smoldering from the 7th inning on (I couldn’t even enjoy watchin Benji Molina truckulate his fat ass around the bases, scoring from first on a double in the 8th inning). The worst part of it is that I didn’t want to cause a ruckus and yell and curse. Now I got indigestion, but what are you going to do? I’m going to my first Yankee game of the season tonight, so let’s hope they can avoid getting swept. Aaron Sele is pitching for the Angels, and if that dipshit shuts the Bombers down, then I’m going on strike.

Today’s papers are filled with tributes to former Knick (and former Chicago White Sox), Dave DeBusschere, who died of a heart attack yesterday. I best remember DeBusschere almost jumping out of his skin when the Knicks won the Patrick Ewing sweepstakes in 1985, but he was considered to be the heart and soul of the great Knick teams of the late ’60s and early ’70s.

On the train ride into the city this morning, I was standing next to two Wall Street suits: a wily veteran, and an eager youngster. The older guy was your classic Goomba, talking shit the whole way, as his young friend listened intently. The Goomba had a thick New York accent, slicked-back hair, and leathery skin. He was all of a piece–straight out of one of Eric Bogosian’s monologues.

“Hey, I remember when the subway was 35 cents, my friend. Can you imagine that? Those were the good ol’ days.”

I decided to bring up DeBusschere. The conversation didn’t last too long. My man had to get back to his riff.

He continued: “You wouldn’t believe this, but I saw Mickey Mantle play. I don’t look old, but it’s true. I’m 42, but I don’t look it.”

“How do you do it?”

“I drink. I fucking drink, man. Lemme tell you something, I work with all these guys who are work-out freaks. Health nuts. Guys in their twenties. They’re sick four, five times a year. Me? I’m in the bar five, six nights a week, I smoke three packs of cigarettes a day, and I feel great. Hey: I had three grandparents that lived past 90. When my grandfather finally went, he was 99. Guy says to me, ‘What was the cause of death?’ I say, ‘He was fucking 99, what do you mean ’cause’?” Hey, I haven’t spent one cent in a bar or restaurant in New York since Mayor Bloomberg passed that no-smoking law. I’m not kidding. Screw that. And I’ll tell you something else: I haven’t gone to a movie theater since they banned smoking there either. Hey, I’m single, I feel great, I’m going to drink and I’m going to smoke as long as I like. Right?”

Hey, whatever gets you through the night, brother.

REVENGE OF THE NERDS

REVENGE OF THE NERDS

Book Review

Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game

All the A’s marketing studies showed that the main things fans cared about was winning. Win with nobodies and the fans showed up, and the nobodies became stars; lose with stars and the fans stayed home, and the stars became nobodies. Assembling nobodies into a ruthlessly efficient machine for winning baseball games, and watching them become stars, was one of the pleasures of running a poor team.

Billy could give a fuck about baseball tradition. All Billy cared about was winning.

It was hard to know which of Billy’s qualities was more important to his team’s success: his energy, his resourcefulness, his intelligence, or his ability to scare the living shit out of even very large professional baseball players.

I.

Billy Beane, the charismatic and driven general manager of the Oakland A’s, is the central character of Michael Lewis’ smart, new book, “Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game.” There is little doubt that “Moneyball” will be popularly known as “The Billy Beane” book (the other Billy Beane book), but it could easily be called, “Revenge of the Nerds,” because this story is, in large part, about how the baseball outsiders finally kicked in the door to professional baseball. While Beane is a provocative protagonist, don’t get it twisted: this is not his biography. Beane is just a featured player of a bigger story.

The cast includes the likes of Bill James, the godfather of the sabermetrics movement; Sandy Alderson, former general manager of the Oakland A’s, who first tested James’ theories on a major league level; Paul DePodesta, Billy Beane’s, Harvard-educated right-hand-man-behind-the-curtain; Scott Hatteberg, the A’s gregarious first basemen; Chad Bradford, an unorthodox side-arming reliever who was signed by Oakland on the cheap; Jeremy Brown, a slow-footed catching prospect; as well as Beane’s invaluable instructors—pitching coach Rick Peterson, and Ron Washington, Oakland’s infield coach.

“Moneyball” is remarkable in many ways. First of all, it is compulsively readable. Lewis is an expert at shifting between tenses and moods, and he does it in a simple and direct style. He is, if nothing else, a crack reporter. The book is also striking because it presents a candid look at how a major league baseball team is actually run.

How often do you read anything truly revealing about the professional game these days? “Moneyball” offers a rare glimpse into the inner-workings of a major league baseball team, and Lewis depicts this world with a sharp ear for dialogue and an eye for the telling detail; the storytelling is very cinematic. (Has Michael Mann bought the movie rights yet?) Lewis, a baseball outsider, gets behind the scenes and he conveys what he sees with urgency, and intelligence which makes “Moneyball” a thrilling read.

The draft-day meetings with Paul DePodesta and the Oakland scouts are crackling good entertainment, right out of a David Mamet play (minus the affected cadences). Lewis’ proclivity for Wall Street, and Vegas analogies, also help illustrate the new breed of thinking in baseball.

“The chief social consequence,” of quantitative analysis over gut instinct, writes Lewis “was to hammer into the minds of a generation of extremely ambitious people a new connection between “inefficiency” and “opportunity,” and to re-enforce an older one, between “brains” and “money.”

Reading “Moneyball” I had the same feeling I get when I first hear a great album, or see a great movie, and I realize almost immediately that what I’m experiencing is something unusual, something great. Or if not great, then at least very, very good. I don’t usually read books twice, but it’s been a week since I first read the damn thing, and I’m already psyched to get back into it.

II.

So what is “Moneyball” about? There are a lot of things going on here, but at the core of the book is just how thoroughly organized baseball resists change. Voros McCracken, a young sabermetrician tells Lewis:

“The problem with major league baseball is that it’s a self-populating institution. Knowledge is institutionalized. The people involved with baseball who aren’t players are ex-players. In their defense, their structure is not set up along corporate lines. They aren’t equipped to evaluate their own systems. They don’t have the mechanism to let in the good and get rid of the bad. They either keep everything or get rid of everything, and they rarely do the latter [But] “If you’re an owner and you never played, do you believe Voros McCracken or Larry Bowa?”

The book is about efficiency vs. excess; progressive thinking vs. static tradition; empirical, or quantitative analysis vs. subjective evaluation; outsiders vs. insiders, or more to the point, underdogs vs. over dogs; and process vs. outcome.

At the bottom of the Oakland experiment was a willingness to re-think baseball: how it is managed, how it is played, who is best suited to play it, and why.

In what amounted to a systematic scientific investigation of their sport, the Oakland front office had re-examined everything fro the market price of foot speed, to the inherent difference between the average major league player and the superior triple-A one. That’s how they found their bargains.”

As the chapters on the 2002 draft illustrate, Beane’s likes spitting in the face of tradition (His lasting achievement may be his insistence on drafting college players over high school kids).

Lewis has written acclaimed books on Wall Street (“Liar’s Poker”), Silicon Valley (“The New, New Thing”) and the Internet (“Next: The Future Just Happened”). The lifeblood of “Moneyball” is, not surprisingly then, economics, and the shrewd operators like Beane who manipulate the system to their benefit. The rise of sabermetrics in the pro game can be attributed to economic necessity. This is why Rob Neyer wrote that the new school of baseball management could in fact be revolutionary:

There are, today, baseball executives who are actively seeking guidance from brilliant men from other disciplines and professions. This is happening, in large part, because the new breed of baseball executives is both incredibly bright and incredibly educated, and so they’re not intimidated by other people who are incredibly bright and incredibly educated.

I’m not suggesting that the “traditional baseball man” isn’t bright. Of course he’s bright. I’ve spoken to a dozen traditional baseball men in the last year, and I can report that not one of them wasn’t bright.

But there’s bright and there’s bright. Knock-your-socks-off bright. Paul DePodesta is that kind of bright, and so is Theo Epstein. I’ll stop there because I don’t want to make a big list and miss somebody, but they’re out there and they know who they are.

Do you know how to spot those guys, the ones who knock your socks off? They’re the ones who tell you they still know just a tiny bit of what they want to know, the ones who think they’ve still got plenty to learn and aren’t afraid of going out and looking for what they want to know.

Most baseball executives, even the bright ones, don’t want to try anything new, because new is hard. Instead, their goal is to do things the way they’ve always been done … but better. And that can work. Both of 2002’s World Series teams were (and are) run by men who have little use for this newfangled objective analysis that everybody’s writing about, and it’s hard to argue with their results. If you do it well enough and you get lucky enough, it can work.

III.

Lewis’ story begins with sabermetricians like Pete Palmer and Bill James—the outsiders who challenged baseball’s traditional belief system.

Lewis writes about Bill James:

There was something bracing about the way he did it-his passion, his humor, his intolerance for stupidity, his preference for leaving an honest mess for others to clean up rather than a tidy lie for them to admire— that inspired others to join his cause The cause was the systematic search for new baseball knowledge.

“The thing that Bill James did that we try to do,” Paul [DePodesta] said, “is that he asked the question WHY.”

The new studies proved that on-base percentage and slugging percentage are a better representation of a player’s productivity than the tradition measuring sticks like Batting average and RBI’s. Stolen bases are overrated, walks are underrated.

Bunts, stolen bases, hit and runs-they were mostly self-defeating and all had a common theme: fear of public humiliation. “Managers tend to pick a strategy that is least likely to fail rather than pick a strategy that is most efficient,” said [Pete] Palmer. “The pain of looking bad is worse than the gain of making the best move.”

But that isn’t all.

James also had something general to say to Billy, or any other general manager of a baseball team who had the guts, or the need, to listen: if you challenge the conventional wisdom you will find ways to do things much better than they are currently done.

The whole point of James was: don’t be an ape! Think for yourself along rational lines. Hypothesize, test against the evidence, never accept that a question has been answered as well as it ever will be. Don’t believe a thing is true just becomes some famous baseball player says that it is true.

The first baseball general manager to utilize James’ wisdom was Sandy Alderson. It should come as no surprise that Alderson, a former Marine officer and lawyer, was a baseball outsider. While Tony LaRussa’s A’s were busy stomping the rest of the league in the late ’80s and early ’90s, Alderson set about to systematically change the A’s organizational philosophy from the bottom up. He didn’t have the leverage to tell Tony LaRussa what to do, but he could control the minor leagues. When the A’s were sold in 1995, and were no longer willing to spend top dollar on talent, Alderson was able to extend his ideas to the big league club. His protZgZ was Billy Beane, a former first round draft pick, who had been a big league bust.

The new, outsider’s view of baseball was all about exposing the illusions created by the insiders on the field. Billy Beane had himself been one of those illusions.

IV.

“What Billy figured out at some point,” said Sandy Alderson, “is that he wanted to be me more than he wanted to be Jose Canseco.”

In 1980, the Mets selected Beane as their second overall pick (Daryl Strawberry was the first). He was a five-tool prospect, a bonafide stud. He was fast, had power, and not only could do no wrong, but did things that other players just didn’t do. Raised in Southern California, Beane had the opportunity to attend Stanford on a scholarship, but he ended up signing with the Mets instead. He would live to regret that decision. (When Beane turned down the Red Sox GM position this past winter he said that he had made a decision based on money once, and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.)

Beane had never confronted failure, and when came face to face with it in pro ball he unraveled. The Mets rushed him through the minor leagues, hoping that with his good looks and his five-tool talent, he would be playing in Shea before you knew it. (Lee Maz, eat your heart out.) Strawberry was zipping along nicely, why shouldn’t Beane be too? To make matters worse, Beane expression his frustration with the fury of a football player. He was not prepared to suck. Plus, he had the red ass.

You could see why guys used to come down from the bullpen when Billy Beane hit, just to see what he would do if he struck out. To describe whatever he’s feeling as anger doesn’t do justice to it. It’s an isolating rage: he believes, perhaps even wants to believe, that he is alone with his problem and no one can help him. That no one should help him.

The longer Beane played, the more depressed his career became. He hit with fear, he thought too much, he didn’t have a baseball mentality. The truth was, he wasn’t happy as a baseball player. An early sign that he wasn’t cut out for it came when Beane roomed with a young Lenny Dykstra. Dykstra was the antithesis of Billy Beane: a scrub, an over achiever. He wasn’t bright, but he had horse sense, and knew he was a ballplayer.

Scott Hatteberg, the A’s first baseman, told Lewis:

Some guys who are the best are the dumbest I don’t mean dumbest. I mean they don’t have a thought. No system.”

Stupidity is an asset?

“Absolutely. Guys can’t set you up. You have no pattern. You can’t even remember your last at bat.” He laughs. “Arrogance is an asset too. Stupidity and arrogance: I don’t have either one. And it taunts me.”

It taunted Beane too, and he was a much better athlete than Scott Hatteburg. The way the pugnacious Dykstra showed no fear at the prospect of facing the great Steve Carlton said it all to Beane. But Beane soon learned:

The physical gifts required to play pro ball were, in some ways, less extraordinary than the mental ones. Only a psychological freak could approach a 100mph fastball aimed not all that far from his head with total confidence. ‘Lenny was so perfectly designed, emotionally, to play the game of baseball,’ said Billy. ‘He was able to instantly forget any failure and draw strength from every success. He had no concept of failure. And he had no idea where he was. And I was the opposite.’

V.

Billy Beane was a human arsenal built, inadvertently, by professional baseball to attack its customs and rituals what set him apart from most baseball insiders—was his desire to find players unlike himself. Billy Beane had gone looking for, and found, his anti-theses. Young men who failed the first test of looking good in a uniform. Young men who couldn’t play anything but baseball. Young men who had gone to college.

If Lewis stumbled onto a story that he loved in the A’s, he found the ideal protagonist in Billy Beane; baseball’s answer to David O. Selznick. A calculating and charming opportunist, Beane is, from a dramatic point of view, practically irresistible. Beane looks like Kevin Spacey’s better-looking, younger brother, but the character that first comes to mind is the Alec Baldwin character in “Glengarry Glen Ross.”

“Billy’s a shark,” JP Ricciardi had said, by the way of explaining what distinguished Billy from every other GM in the game. “It’s not just that he’s smarter than the average bear. He’s relentless—the most relentless person I have ever known.”

The beauty part about Beane is that he’s not just an arrogant, narcissistic prick with an inflated opinion of himself. He’s complicated too. Beane is at turns warm, playful, intelligent, funny, and most importantly, vulnerable. Lewis does a neat job of exploring Beane’s insecurities when the GM contemplated taking the Red Sox gig last winter.

The constant tension with Beane is how he tries to balance his hot temper with his empirical approach to business. When the A’s play, Beane is not so different from the average, short-tempered fan.

Reason, even science, as what Billy Beane was intent on bringing to baseball. He used many unreasonable means-anger, passion, even physical intimidation-to do it. ‘My deep down belief about how to build a baseball team is at odds with my day-to-day personality,’ he said. ‘It’s a constant struggle for me.’

VI.

Of course, despite all of Beane’s success with the A’s, his team has not thrived in the playoffs.

The post-season partially explained why baseball was so uniquely resistant to the fruits of scientific research: to ANY purely rational idea about how to run a baseball team. It wasn’t just that the game was run by old baseball men who insisted on doing things as they had always been done. It was that the season ended in a giant crapshoot. The playoffs frustrate rational management because, unlike the long regular season, they suffer from the sample size problem.

But in a series of three out of five, or even four out of seven, anything can happen. In a five game series the worst team in baseball will beat the best about fifteen percent of the time Baseball science may still give a team a slight edge but that edge is overwhelmed by chance. The baseball season is structured to mock reason.

Beane put it bluntly:

“My shit doesn’t work in the playoffs. My job is to get us to the playoffs. What happens after that is fucking luck.”

Paul DePodesta, Beane’s own personal Mr. Spock, is more philosophical:

“It’s looking at process rather than outcomes,” Paul says. “Too many people make decisions based on outcomes rather than process.”

After all, you can control the process, but not the results. Even if your name is Billy Beane.

Unfortunately for the A’s, we live in a culture that is obsessed with results. I heard several casual fans talking about Beane this week, and they scoffed, “Billy Beane? How many fucking rings does he have?”

Paul DePodesta hopes organized baseball overlooks the A’s success too (though after this book is released that may be harder to do):

“I hope they continue to believe that our way doesn’t work. It buys us a few more years.”

Not everybody in baseball is going to buy into the A’s philosophy of course, and that’s okay. Diversity is good. But the Blue Jays and the Red Sox are already on the bandwagon. Hell, the Yankees current run is based, in part, on acquiring high on-base percentage hitters. The real question is how long will Beane and the A’s be able to use the sabermetrics-approach to such an advantage? DePodesta isn’t going to hang around forever, you know.

It will be interesting to chart the fate of “Moneyball” this summer. It has already caused quite a stir. Beane’s fellow GM’s aren’t particularly pleased about the book (I’m sure he wasn’t too thrilled about portions of it himself). Kenny Williams, the general manager of the White Sox, has already had some choice—if not terribly astute—words for Beane. Fomer scouting director Grady Fuson isn’t too pleased either. I’m sure others will follow suit. I doubt however, that it will hurt Beane’s ability to perform; in fact, I’m sure he’ll find a way to use it to his advantage.

Of course, the internet-based media is charged up about “Moneyball”, but Lewis is really preaching to the choir there. No, what I want to see is how everyone from the mainstream press, to the casual fan responds to the book. It feels like an important book, but let’s see if it really becomes an influential book.

Rob Neyer thinks it will be.

I think it will be very influential. Maybe not this year or next year, it might not be for another ten years, when the people who are in college today are working for major league teams. But I really think it’s a great book and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Whether or not he’s right, all I know is I’m looking forward to reading it again.

Oh yeah, not for nothing, but according to Will Carroll of Baseball Prospectus:

This week’s Baseball Prospectus Radio will be all about Moneyball, the controversial new book giving the insider look at the Oakland A’s. Excerpted in NY Times Magazine and this week in Sports Illustrated, Moneyball is currently #10 on the Amazon.com bestseller list and will debut on the NY Times Best Seller list next week. In one of only two radio interviews he will do, author Michael Lewis will speak with BPR about the book, what he saw in his year with the A’s, and whether the controversy surrounding the book is justified. BPR will also feature the subject of Moneyball, Billy Beane. Beane is currently General Manager of the Oakland A’s and a former major league baseball player. His unique approach is changing the game, but his brash personality is rubbing many the wrong way. Is it truth or sour grapes? Tune in to find out: http://radio.baseballprospectus.com

Don’t sleep.

DEJA VU ALL OVER

DEJA VU ALL OVER AGAIN

If nothing else, last night’s Yankee-Angels game was as a painful reminder for Yankee fans as to how soundly Anahiem whooped the Bombers last fall. Mike Mussina was less than sharp, he didn’t get the benefit of the doubt from the home plate umpire, and the Angels were just plain pesky, fouling balls off, and working their magic. The Yankees played like a-s-s, and made John Lackey look like Tim Hudson. It made for a less than spectacular return for Derek Jeter, who singled in four times at bat (he popped out three times to the right side).

Personally, I cursed and hollered at the TV throughout the ugly affair (“Sori, try getting your body in front of the ball precious!”). I guess I’m still sore about last year. A friend called during the game and said, “You got to love that scrappy little Eckstein.”

I said, “I don’t got to love dick. You love that little bastid, I’m too busy being furious.”

“Awww, nutzo.”
I wasn’t any happier this morning when I read the headline for Harvey Araton’s column in the Times: “Can’t the Yankees be a Little Vunerable?” Perhaps he hasn’t been paying attention. Fortunately John Harper and Joel Sherman detail the Yankees flaws in their columns today.

According to Sherman:

The rotation suddenly has become more pedestrian, the defense more shabby and the offense more homer dependent (nine of 12 runs over the past four games are on long balls). Over the past 10 days, the A’s pitching and the Angels’ passion have exposed Yankee flaws. Those are two possible playoff opponents.

Naturally, the Sox came from behind yet again, this time beating the Rangers. They now trail the Yankees by a scant two games. Given the Sox propensity for late-inning come-backs and the Yankees less than stellar bullpen, you think we’re going to see some humdingers come next week?

I think we can count on it.

HERE AND NOW Last

HERE AND NOW

Last week, Rob Neyer told me:

Baseball gives the fan the opportunity to be happy a number of times during the season. If you are a Cincinnati Bengals fan, you may only have the chance to be happy once or twice in a whole season. But if you’re a fan of a truly bad baseball team, you have a chance to be happy 60 times a year.

I was thinking about this on Sunday when I saw Baseball Tonight’s week-in-review. The Reds won three games in their final at-bat last week, and Mike Piazza hit a homer to win a game on Saturday for the Mets. Piazza, who has been the focus of negative attention in the papers recently, looked like a Little Leaguer as he crossed the plate. It was a sight for sore eyes, indeed. (Yazzie collected three hits in the Mets victory last night in Colorado, though Murray Chass writes that all is not kosher in Sheaville.)

One of the drawbacks of rooting for a succesful team like the Yankees is that they spoil you rotten. Watching highlights of the Reds celebrate last week I thought of how often I scoff at such celebrations: “Act like you’ve been there,” or “Man, you’d think you guys won the World Serious. Settle down, now.” But really, I’ve just become a snob, because those come-from-behind wins are exciting for the Reds and their fans, and why shouldn’t they be effusive? A little “Bad News Bears” never hurt anyone. I’ve got to lighten up a little bit. Not everybody can be the cool, efficient, big city, Yankees. And thank God for that.

HEY MR. DJ PLAY

HEY MR. DJ PLAY THAT SONG

Derek Jeter returns to the Yanks tonight, when they host the World Champs at the Stadium, and though they’ve played well without him, they haven’t been nearly as much fun to watch. Mike Lupica opines:

Jeter is like the owner of the Yankees in this one big way: If he doesn’t win it all, he feels as if he lost…Jeter is supposed to be the best winner. It starts with him being a terrible loser.

It’s hard to disagree with Lupica, but I don’t know of many players who enjoy themselves more than Jeter either. Winning may be the only thing that makes Jeter sleep well at night, and we don’t know what kind of loser he really is, because he’s never been in a losing situation, but between the lines, the guy is all smiles, all-confidence, all the time. During tense games, I often yell at him on TV, “Dammit Jeter, would you stop having so much fun. This shit is killing my stomach and you’re smiling. Throw a bat, smash a water cooler, do something.” But Jeter is no Paulie O. His confidence is unflappable, and so is his insistence that competition is supposed to be enjoyed. Looking at Jeter play baseball, it’s hard to think there is anything else he’d rather be doing.

“I don’t think he thinks about a whole lot other than playing,” Joe Torre told the writers in Oakland over the weekend.

He may not be the best player on the team, but he is their biggest star. Lupica continues:

He is not the ballplayer DiMaggio was, or Mickey Mantle, or even Don Mattingly in his prime. There is no rule in the books that the star of the team has to be the best player on the team. It is that way with Jeter. He is the star of these Yankees and comes home tonight, at short.

OLD MAN RICKEY When

OLD MAN RICKEY

When Rickey Henderson was on the Mets a few years back, he was thrown out trying to steal second base one afternoon in Pittsburgh. As he trotted off the field the organist played “Old Gray Mare.” I started humming along, but it wasn’t until about twenty minutes later that I realized what I was humming. Man, an organist with a sense of humor is a beautiful thing. Acclaimed baseball writer Alan Schwarz conducted a brief Q & A with the old gray mare in yesterday’s Times magazine. There isn’t a great Rickeyism to be found, but still, it is mildly amusing.

JUST WRITING MY NAME

JUST WRITING MY NAME AND GRAFFITI ON THE WALL

In the shadow of Yankee Stadium, you will find the 149th street subway station on the Grand Concourse. “The bench” as it used to be known, was a famous meeting spot for graffiti artists in the late ’70s and early ’80s. This spot was immortalized in Henry Chalfant and Tony Silver’s documentary “Style Wars.” You may have caught it on PBS over the years. If you haven’t, it has just been released on DVD, with all sorts of extra goodies, and it is well-worth checking out. Not only because it captures a bygone era in New York City history, but because the young kids that are interviewed in the movie are priceless. The movie was filmed in 1982, when Graff writers and B-Boys (and DJs of course) were the most popular arms of the Hip Hop tree. (Nobody thought you could make any money rapping yet.) Unlike the rap game, Graffiti didn’t exlude Latinos and white kids from getting down; “Style Wars” features middle-class Jewish kids, Italian kids from Brooklyn, Spanish kids from the Bronx, and black kids from Harlem. For a rich, poignant, and funny (not to mention aesthetically appealing) look at New York in the early 80s, look no further than “Style Wars.”

BREAKING EVEN For the past

BREAKING EVEN

For the past two weeks the Yankees have played exclusively against the Mariners and A’s, two of the best teams in the league. When all was said and done yesterday, they ended up beating the M’s 2 out of 3 twice, and losing 2 of 3 to the A’s twice: .500 ball. Which is to say, it could have been worse, could have been better.

The Yanks faced Hudson, Zito and Mulder in Oakland over the weekend and they managed to get to Zito on Saturday (my cousin Gabe was at the game, and I hope to get a report from him when he returns home sometime this week), while they were stymied by Hudson on Friday and Mulder yesterday. Fortunately, Pedro and the Sox lost on Friday, and D. Lowe got bombed last night (although the Sox did manage another furious comeback), so the Yanks remain three games up in the AL East.

The Yanks return home for three against the Angels and then host the Rangers over the weekend before they go up to Boston for the begining of the madness. Both Don Zimmer (stomach) and Derek Jeter (shoulder) are expected to rejoin the team tomorrow night at the Stadium. Jose Contreras is on his way back to New York, and Antonio Osuna is expected to come off the DL this weekend.

Jason Giambi is all dinged-up, and he sat out of Saturday and Sunday’s games. But he did take Tim Hudson deep on Friday night. It was encouraging that it was hit to left field. Perhaps with a couple of days off, Giambi will start getting more comfortable.

Meanwhile, Nick Johnson continues to impress. According to Ken Rosenthal:

“He’s turning into a mini-Giambi, which is what everyone thought he was,” A’s GM Billy Beane says. “It’s not going to be fun facing two Giambis. One is bad enough.”

Bronx Banter Interview: Roger Angell

This interview originally appeared at BaseballProspectus.com.

Roger Angell, The New Yorker’s celebrated baseball writer, has a new compilation out titled “Game Time”, which contains many new pieces along with some previously published ones as well. BP correspondent Alex Belth caught up with Angell last weekend and talked about growing up a New York Giants baseball fan, the present-day Yankees, plus other topics New York baseball-focused and otherwise.

Bronx Banter: How did you get your start as a baseball fan, and as a writer?

Roger Angell: I got my start as a fan in the most traditional way possible: My father was a big baseball fan. My father had grown up in Cleveland, and when I was a kid, we would be going to Giants games here in New York, and Yankees games. As I’ve written, I think it still works with kids under 10 that their first big obsession is with baseball. They become aware of this gigantic lore. Some of the first players that I saw were people like Babe Ruth, and Carl Hubbell and Lou Gehrig, and I remember when Joe DiMaggio first arrived in my teens. So it goes back a ways.

BB: Where did you grow up?

Angell: I grew up close to where I live now. I grew up on 93rd Street, and on the way to school, my school bus which went up 5th Avenue when 5th Avenue went both ways, sometimes in the morning I would meet Col. (Jacob) Ruppert on his way to his brewery on the east side. He owned the Yankees. By that time I was 10 years old, so I would have a mitt, and I would give the mitt a whack and look at him, and expect him to stop and say: ‘Young man, here’s my card, take this up to the Stadium for a tryout.’ It never happened. My father was a real fan, and he told me what to watch for. He had grown up in Cleveland in the Cy Young, days, and uh, his heart was broken for the rest of his life (laughs).

BB: So did you grow up as a Giants fan or a Yankees fan?

Angell: Both. I think I was more of a Yankee fan at first, but the Yankees were winning so often…that I discovered along the way that I was more a Giants fan than a Yankees fan.

BB: (Did you pull for the Giants) strictly because they were the underdog?

Angell: Cause they were the underdog, sure. And naturally you attach yourself to the underdog. But I think I enjoyed the Polo Grounds more than Yankee Stadium because it was such an eccentric and interesting park.

BB: Were most of the Giants fans of an older generation, because they were the dominant New York team before the Yankees?

Angell: Yeah, it’s true. But I think if it had been some other city like Pittsburgh, I would have been a Pirates fan. It was just local. I was not a Dodgers fan, because the Dodgers always meant trouble for the Giants. I didn’t actually go to a game at Ebbets Field until I was almost grown up.

BB: When did you want to become a writer?

Angell: My parents were divorced and I was living with my father during the weekdays. My mother was an editor at The New Yorker, was one of the first editors of the New Yorker. So it was sort of a family business. And she was married to E.B. White. So there was a writer close at hand. I think the aspirations came naturally.

BB: Did your mother write herself?

Angell: No, she was a famous fiction editor and early art editor. Famous figure in the family of The New Yorker, Katherine White. She was head of the fiction department, so I wound up in the fiction department myself many years later. But I remember watching E.B. White write, and I was a great admirer of his stuff because it looked so effortless and at the same time I could see how much effort had gone into it. He used to write the Comment Page, in the first page of the New Yorker. Every week. And that day, up in their place in Maine, he would close himself in his office and he would come out for lunch, and not say anything, and then you’d hear the sounds of sporadic typing in there, and then he’d mail it off and the end of the day and say it wasn’t good enough. He was always saying that writing is hard, which is true.

BB: So writing was the family business.

Angell: The New Yorker was the family business. There was endless talk about The New Yorker all the time. Harold Ross, and all these people. I knew these people when I was young. Sure, it was an everyday sort of thing. My father was a lawyer, and I saw a lot of him, but he never begrudged me going into writing; in fact he encouraged me. So it was a natural sort of thing, and I grew up thinking I was going to do something in publishing. I had no idea I’d end up at The New Yorker, and I had no idea that I’d end up writing about baseball.

BB: When did you arrive at The New Yorker?

Angell: Well, I graduated from college, went overseas in the Pacific and became the managing editor of a G.I. weekly out there. Air Force. A magazine called “Brief.” I had amazing preparation for what I would do later on. After the war, by this time I had begun to publish in The New Yorker, when I was quite young, publishing fiction. I wrote an article about a bomber mission in the Pacific. I didn’t want to go to work for The New Yorker because it was the family business and you know you want to do things on your own. I went to work for a magazine called “Holiday,” a new monthly started up after the war by Curtis Publishing. It was a famous travel magazine; it was a wonderful magazine that produced great writers, and artists and photographers from around the world. And I had a lot of fun doing that. I went to The New Yorker in the fall of ’55. My parents were living in Maine. E.B. White was writing other stuff and my mother had retired by this time. It was a natural thing for me to do since I was a writer and editor and contributor to The New Yorker.

BB: When did you first write about baseball?

Angell: In ’62. I had written some sports pieces, I had written a piece about the New York Rangers. I was a hockey fan; I was a sports fan. I did a couple of other things. And I had written a baseball piece for “Holiday,” sort of a generic baseball piece. I said if you want I could go down to spring training. I certainly did not have it in mind to write a lot about baseball. The thing was, (my editor) didn’t want sentimental writing about sports and he didn’t want tough guy writing about sports, which were the choices back then. You were either weepy, or you were tough. The first year I went to spring training I found the newborn Mets in St. Petersburg. This is 40 years ago. I didn’t think of myself as a sports writer so I didn’t dare go in the clubhouse or sit in the press box. I sat with the fans. And I realized that the stuff that’s ignored and never gets reported on is the fans. Nobody ever wrote about the fans. So I wrote about the fans, and I’ve continued to do so. I’ve continued to write in a form that allows me to write in the first person. And that allows me to say I am a fan of this team, or react to things as a fan as well as a baseball writer that now knows something about the game. The Mets were just a great fan story when they arrived. They played in the Polo Grounds and they were one of the worst and most entertaining teams that ever played. And that was a terrific story. And New York was used to the Yankees, winning all the time. Somebody said they had become like General Motors. And here was a team that was just terrible, but large numbers of people turned out to cheer them on, and if they won a game there was wild excitement. So I wrote that. They were something like anti-matter to the New York Yankees. I remember sitting there at the Polo Grounds, and there was a guy sitting near me in the stands blowing this mournful horn. TWUUUHH-TRUUUHP. And I wrote that there is more Met than Yankee in all of us, because losing is much more common than winning. When I heard that horn blowing I realized that horn was blowing for me. In some way, I began to settle into the kind of writing that I would do later on. They call me a “baseball essayist,” or a “baseball poet laureate,” and I hate that. I’m not trying to write baseball essays, and I’m certainly not trying to be poetic. I try to avoid it. I’ve been able to find myself and baseball a natural fit, and everybody wants to write about himself. That’s why we do it (laughs).

BB: When were you aware that this was going to be something you were going to be doing regularly?

Angell: I think what happened was, I went to the World Series every year, again keeping my distance. But what happened in the 60s was that there were three great World Series and pennant races in a row. In ’67, there was a four-way race in the American League between the White Sox, Twins, Tigers and the Red Sox. The White Sox went out first, and the Tigers were in it until the last day. The Sox had won and I was in the Red Sox clubhouse when news came that the Tigers had lost, and the Red Sox were in.

BB: The Impossible Dream Team.

Angell: Yeah, there was a great World Series that fall. Carl Yastrzemski was an extraordinary player, carried that team all the way through September. The Red Sox lost of course. And the next year was the Tigers and the Cardinals, and Bob Gibson struck out 17 batters in the first game. Something that never had happened before. And the year after that was the sudden arrival of the Mets: The biggest upset in modern times. These were three great late seasons and post seasons in a row, and by that time I was there writing about this first-hand. I was involved in some way. I felt involved. I learned how to attach myself to teams and I learned how to ask the right questions. It was a lot of fun. And the readers liked it so I went on doing it.

BB: When did you start approaching the locker room and the press box?

Angell: I did that in the sixties. I began to sit in the press box. I remember following the Red Sox around and sitting in the Press Box at Fenway Park, Tiger Stadium. A lot of writers were very good to me, and Cliff Keane one of the old Red Sox writers, famous guy for needling people, would make fun of me for taking so many notes. I’d fill up my notebooks, because I knew I was going to be writing much later, and I didn’t know what would be useful at that time. So I would take notes and take notes. Keane would say to me, “How many pages today Rog, 20, 30?” I remember Keane trying to be cynical about Yastrzemski because Yastrzemski was such a great star. There was a game in Tiger Stadium where the Sox were behind a couple of runs, and Yaz came up and he said: ‘OK Yaz, prove you’re the MVP: Hit a home run.’ And he hit a home run (laughs).

BB: What was it like in the locker room during that period?

Angell: Well, it wasn’t nearly as crowded as it is now. The masses of TV people weren’t there. You didn’t have every local television channel in the land trying to represent something in the clubhouse. I think players were a little more accessible. And they were different, they were different. The great example that comes to mind right away is [Bob] Gibson after that 17-strikeout performance. He stood in front of his locker; writers were four and five deep at this point. And all of us had our pencils poised. This was in ’68, and racially things were very uptight still. Someone said to Gibson: ‘Were you surprised at what you did today?’ Gibson looked at him and said: ‘I’m never surprised by anything I do.’ You could see this going through the writers like: ‘What did he say? What did he say?’ I hung around, after the crowds had left, and I was talking with Gibson a little bit, and I said: ‘Are you always this competitive?’ He said: ‘Oh, I think so. I got a three-year old daughter, and I’ve played about 500 games of tic-tac-toe with her and she hasn’t beat me yet.’ And he meant it. He meant it.

BB: What were your impressions of the Cardinals in the 1960s?

Angell: You have to remember that when Gibson joined the Cardinals, he had played with the Globetrotters, as a second team. Many people forget this. But they played in the South and the black players would have to stay with black families when they went down there. Gibson hated this. Those were tough times.

BB: What was Bill White like in those days?

Angell: I didn’t get to know him until later. He was a roommate of Gibby’s at one point. He reminded me that when he changed clubs–he went over to the Phillies, I think the first at-bat he had against Gibson, Gibson hit him. He said: ‘We’re no longer roommates.’ And of course that has really changed. This business of knockdown pitches and fighting for the inside part of the play has gone by, and if anybody gets hit now they look deeply insulted. It’s too bad, because I really love the inside pitch, and the struggles of the batters to establish themselves.

BB: Those Cardinals were known for being a very racially integrated team. Did you get that impression from them?

Angell: Yeah, I think so, but the team I remember for that was the ’79 Pirates. The greatest racial mix that there has ever been. Just unbelievable combinations of people. Suave, inner-city African Americans, and white guys from the South. Phil Garner was the son of a minister from the South. And of course Willie Stargell. You had South Americans, Latinos. The clubhouse was a mass of ethnic energy. All kinds of music going on. At one point I thought they were going to start sacrificing chickens. And rock music. That was the “We Are Family” thing. And everything revolved around Stargell, who was the guy that held it together. And they were so excited by themselves. It was just terrific.

BB: One thing I noticed in your feature about Gibson was that his reputation had diminished when the piece was published in the early ’80s. These days Koufax and Gibson are clearly remembered as the outstanding pitchers of the 1960s, while Juan Marichal’s reputation has suffered in comparison.

Angell: Well, Marichal was the one whose reputation has faded, you’re right. And if you asked players from that era, ‘who was the best pitcher?’ they always mention Koufax, they always mention Gibson, and they all say the one everyone overlooks is Marichal, who was so tough because he had all those different pitches coming from so many different directions. He really knew how to pitch. Had a very wide range of skills.

BB: What are your impressions of the Yankees during the past 10 years?

Roger Angell: Torre’s Yankees have made me a Yankee fan again, because of him. I was not particularly a Yankee fan, because I was not a Steinbrenner fan. I was just interested in other teams. But the way the Yankees played, and the atmosphere that prevailed there, the sense of professionalism and accomplishment….the presence of people like, well particularly Paul O’Neill, and Bernie Williams and David Cone. So many people all working together, who made very little reference to themselves. There were occasional exceptions; players here and there like Wells. But it was the perfect clubhouse atmosphere and it was a new thing for New York to have a Yankee team like that. I didn’t enjoy it because it was like the old Yankees; I just liked it for itself. And they became the most interesting team in baseball, which is really amazing with the Yankees because there are so many preconceptions that are attached to the Yankees. So much of that encrusted history and lore. But these were interesting and lively teams that rejuvenated themselves. That post-season in 2001 was a great thing for everybody in a way. The play that Jeter made against the A’s, which was like the necessary last ingredient, was really something. Everybody remembers that.

BB: Does Jeter rank with the all-time Yankees yet?

Angell: I don’t need to rank anybody, let’s wait and see. There is no hurry to rank him. I don’t like to rank people unless they’ve arrived. I mean ranking Barry Bonds is extremely interesting now. But I don’t need to rank Jeter yet. Let’s see what happens. I remember when Doc Gooden had that great year (in 1985) and everybody was putting him in the Hall of Fame. And only some people said: ‘Well, it was a pretty good year, let’s see what happens.’

BB: The same can be said of Soriano now.

Angell: Yeah, he’s just arriving. It’s fun to watch people arrive. I don’t have a great interest in the Best Ever. Or the Best this, or the Best that. You can play that out in the winter, but it is overwhelming sports now. We all want to have the sense that we were there at a historic moment, or that we were watching something historic, this next home run, or base hit. It makes you think about this constantly. If you look back in baseball history, I look back at the consecutive game streak, when Lou Gehrig broke the existing record. I’ve looked back at the newspapers of the time, and it was a little thing at the bottom of a paragraph. That was all. There was not this self-consciousness about records in the old days. What you watched is what mattered.

BB: Are you a fan of baseball writing?

Angell: I’m a fan of baseball books, yeah. I think my favorite baseball book of all time is “The Glory of Their Times,” because it was thrilling to find out that some of these early players that we saw in distant, historical terms, were still around, living as old guys here in the country with perfect memories of what it had been like to play country ball. Larry Ritter went around with a tape recorder, while no one else noticed this. Suddenly there was a connection. We knew about baseball being in the past. We knew that baseball was both an old game and a young game. Which is still the case. It was an extraordinary piece of writing and reporting.

BB: Have you followed Bill James’ writing career?

Angell: Yeah, I like Bill James. I’m not a sabermetrician, but I got to know Bill James early on, and I liked him a lot. He certainly opened up an entirely different area for us to understand baseball.

BB: Did the first publication of the Baseball Encyclopedia change the way you looked at statistics?

Angell: I wrote a long piece when it came out about what a significant thing it was to have it. I was aware of certain marks before it came out–number of games played, home run records. We are reminded of it every day now. I think that I had already sensed that every player who plays is playing against every other player who has ever played. Certainly if you have the Encyclopedia there, you look back at the lifetime stats of anybody, and of World Series games, it confirmed for you in interesting and exciting detail what you had already sensed. And we all had a few records that we would carry around as our favorites. Now they are all printed out. I remember a record I picked up very early on, that almost nobody is aware of. One of my favorite stats of all time is that from August of 1931 to August of 1933, the Yankees played something like 304 games without being shut out once. An extraordinary team record; nobody has ever come close to that. Just think of that. And there were great pitchers pitching then too.

BB: What was your experience like writing “A Pitchers Story” with David Cone?

Angell: He was just great. We had no written agreement. We had sort of talked about this as a joint venture. He kept wanting me to do it, and then we had a contract. But he wasn’t involved in the contract and he could have said at any point when he started to lose, I’m sorry I can’t do this. Nine out of 10 players would have gone that way, and all he did was keep apologizing. He said: ‘I’m sorry I’m letting you down.’ I said: ‘You’re not letting me down.’ And at some point I said: ‘This is more interesting that winning.’ Which is true: Losing is much more interesting than winning. It was actually thrilling to go through with this and again, instead of looking at it from somebody who is a masterful pitcher, in control of everything, to see him hold onto some vestige of what he had been, to pull off a decent performance now and then.

BB: Was it awkward for you that he pitched so poorly?

Angell: It wasn’t awkward, it was painful. It was horrible. It was painful for everybody that knew him, including his teammates. It was tough to see an accomplished and proud and extremely successful guy like that suddenly lose his form entirely, and struggling to find it. Torre, to his credit, stayed with him, and stayed with him. It was an amazing summer all along.

BB: What was your impression of Cone’s 2001 season with the Red Sox?

Angell: He pitched well. He had a good season. He had some bad luck. He had some setbacks. The team completely fell apart. They fired the manager (Jimy Williams) mid-season. They had an inappropriate pitching coach who became the manager (Jim Kerrigan), who did not get the backing of the ownership. It was extremely ineffective, horrible. But Cone hung on and pitched well, through difficulties. He pitched a great game in Boston against Mussina, where Mussina came one out away from a perfect game. David was the losing pitcher but pitched nine innings. He had to go chew out Mussina, because he knew what a great game he pitched. Really. That was standard for David. The Sox came back down here and played at the Stadium the following week, and David made it a point of going to see Mussina, and said: “‘What you want to remember is that we both pitched in a game that we’ll never forget.’

BB: What do you make of Cone’s comeback? When we first spoke last week, Cone had just hurt his hip, pitching for the Mets.

Angell: It’s a good story. But yeah, I had a bad feeling about it last week. I could see it coming. I can’t understand why nobody said anything about it. The writers or the coaches, but I saw Cone limping around, favoring that hip for a while now. I could see this coming.

BB: You’ve shifted your rooting loyalties over the years. Which teams are you pulling for these days?

Angell: I always change my loyalties because I get interested in the team I’m writing about. If I go and spend two days watching a team, I follow that team for the rest of the year. If I become aware of the people in the lineup and talk to the players a little bit, I’m interested in that team. I’m always interested in the Mets, I’m always interested in the Red Sox, I’m always interested in the Giants, my childhood team. I’m interested in the A’s because I was always close with that team. I knew Bill Rigney very well. They were a great story in the ’70s, and later when they came back with Tony La Russa, who ran such an admirable outfit. There are a lot of teams. I’m sort of a fan of the Angels now because they played so well in the World Series last fall.

BB: You weren’t heartbroken that the Giants lost?

Angell: It almost killed me. It almost killed me. It was horrible. I mean I was there, I saw it happen with Giant fans. It was just appalling. Extremely painful. My God, they are up by five runs in the seventh inning of Game Six and lose? You don’t get over that right away.

BB: What players do you follow closely these days?

Angell: Well, there are obvious ones like Pedro, Jeter. I was a great fan of Edgardo Alfonzo. When he arrived with the Mets, he really knew how to play baseball. A few of his coaches said: This guy already knows how to play. He picked it up in South America somehow. He was a complete ballplayer from the moment he arrived. And then there are always players that I haven’t noticed before. Nowadays we are all victims of Bud Selig’s horrible new schedule, and we are sequestered from seeing teams except in local divisions. I’ve never seen nearly enough of Garret Anderson for instance, who is a wonderful player. And that happens a lot.

BB: Are you not a fan of interleague play?

Angell: Sure, I think interleague play is fine. I have to say in defense of Bud Selig–I’m not a huge Bud fan for various reasons–but a lot of what he’s done has been a success. Interleague play has been a success; the three divisions are working out OK. I don’t like the schedule. I’m dead against the new schedule. I mean the new schedule was passed because teams didn’t want to spend all that money on traveling, and the writers didn’t want to be away from home so long, so far. But if you think about it, the great thing about baseball now is that we have some extraordinary stars, some of the best players who have ever played, but they are scattered all over. And you’ve got to be alert now. I mean the Giants are going to here (at Shea) for three days in the middle of August. Three days to look at Barry Bonds: That’s terrible. Meantime, we get to see the Mets play Montreal, and the Phillies and Florida over and over and over again, which is not my idea of the best outcome for baseball.

BB: How do you like the contemporary game compared with previous generations?

Angell: I don’t think in those terms. I don’t think: This is the best time. I think that’s a way to make yourself not enjoy what’s going on. There is no doubt in my mind that we have as talented a bunch of players playing right now that the game has ever known. There is no doubt. These guys are extraordinary athletes. We have a rush of wonderful infielders, and great shortstops. Great shortstops who can hit. So why don’t we enjoy what we are seeing? I don’t have to say, this is the best time. Why make that choice? People are always ready to give up on baseball and say It wasn’t what it was. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, and maybe it’s about to be the best it’s ever been. It’s perfectly possible. I don’t think people have any awareness of the contributions Hispanic stars have made to the game. They are the powerful force that has made the game as good as it is right now. They are not nearly appreciated enough.

BB: Is it more difficult to talk with players now?

Angell: It’s much harder, because I’m so old. I’m 82. I approach them with my white hair. When they call you “sir,” you’re in trouble.

BB: Does the same thing go for the likes of Torre, and Zimmer?

Angell: No, the old guys know me, so I can talk to them. We go back a long ways. We look at each other and say, ‘still here?’ But a lot of my best friends in baseball are gone. Bill Rigney was my best friend in baseball, and he died a couple of years ago.

BB: Underneath his stoic calm, Torre is a tough Italian guy from Brooklyn, huh?

Angell: Torre was a catcher for most of his career. No gentle guys are catchers. Torre has got an immense sense of authority. He’s tough enough. He doesn’t go around acting tough because that’s not his nature. But the players who come to play for him come to realize that he was a hell of a player. He shared an MVP award one year, lead the league in batting. So the next year he lost 64 points off his batting title. And he always points to that. He’s also the guy who’ll tell you about the day he grounded into four double plays. He’s always putting himself down, which is a way he can help his team, because every player has horrible times, and they want to be reminded of that and not how great a player their manager was. But I go back to Bonds, who is one of the most exciting and interesting people to think about that I’ve encountered in baseball. It’s amazing to me what he’s done in the past couple of years. And all the old players that I’ve talked to about it, have said, ‘I’ve never seen a guy locked in like this’–never, ever, ever. It’s just astounding. It’s really fun to place him in the category of the best who ever played. You have to put him among the top three outfielders of all time. He now belongs there with Ruth and Mays. I had a long exchange with a writer named Charlie Einstein, who is a friend of mine, a retired writer who lives around here. He used to cover the Giants; he went out with the Giants from New York to San Francisco. He’s the biographer, and chronicler and closest friend of Willie Mays. And I wrote in my piece, I quoted a local writer out there, Ray Ratto, saying that Bonds is the best outfielder now that’s ever played. He’s number three. And he’s never going to rise above three because the other two were Mays and Ruth. Of course Bonds was pissed off. But Einstein wrote, if I can remember this correctly, this means we have a second outfield of Aaron and Williams and DiMaggio, a third-best outfield of Clemente, Cobb and Mantle. And he said: ‘Who is going to tell Stan Musial that he’s on the fourth team?’ (laughs)

FREDDIE GETS FOXXED Two

FREDDIE GETS FOXXED

Two years ago it looked as if Freddie Garcia was going to be one the star pitchers in the AL for a long time, but he struggled last year, and last night took it on the chin again, as the Yanks pounded him for nine runs in the third inning, on route to a 16-5 win over the Mariners.

According to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer:

What was so baffling about Garcia’s terrible outing is that other than the results, it wasn’t all that bad. By all accounts he had great stuff, had command of all his pitches and didn’t lose his cool. When Garcia struggles, that usually means home runs, yet he gave up only one extra-base hit, a double.

“In the bullpen I was warming up, and I was like, ‘This is my day today,’ ” said Garcia, who fell to 3-4, 5.40. “I had good stuff, good velocity, everything going, and then in one moment, it disappeared.”

“The kid got hit,” pitching coach Bryan Price said. “I don’t think he nibbled, I think he went after ’em. They hit his mistakes and they hit them hard.”

The U.S.S. Mariner reports:

What an ugly game that was. Long, cold, and painful. From a fan’s perspective, Garcia seems to self-destruct so completely it’s difficult to believe. Fans are starting to boo him now, and there were a bunch of fans behind me who carped about him for innings after he left — standard stuff, he’s overpaid, see below, but also that he needs to go to the minors to work things out… which may be something to watch, now that I think about it — the Mariners have a long history of abusing the DL and rehab assignments when they need to make someone disappear and in this case, possibly collect juicy insurance money.

Here’s hoping the Yanks still have some runs left in their bats, because they are headed for Oakland, and the three-headed monster that is: Hudson, Zito, Mulder.

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"This ain't football. We do this every day."
--Earl Weaver