August 18th, 2006 → 12:04 am @ Seth Mnookin
“With two outs in the top of the sixth, a runner on second, and the Orioles already ahead, 9-2, Jay Gibbons popped the ball up between Rodriguez and Jeter, but closer to Rodriguez. Rodriguez positioned himself under the ball, but it caromed off his glove as Jeter brushed into him in an effort to catch the ball himself.
Afterward, Rodriguez said he called for the ball but that Jeter did not hear him. Jeter said the reverse, adding that he initially thought Rodriguez caught the ball to end the inning. In fact, Jeter initially started toward the dugout while the ball lay in the dirt. Both players appeared embarrassed after the play and neither immediately picked up the ball…
It would have been Rodriguez’s 22nd error this season, one in which his shaky defense has become an ongoing issue. But the official scorer, Howie Karpin, changed the ruling, giving the error to Jeter for impeding Rodriguez’s ability to make the catch…
Jeter initially looked surprised that he had been charged with the error but then said he did not care. Torre said it should have been Jeter’s play, since he is the shortstop and in charge in the infield, but that no one could be blamed if they could not hear each other.”
— “Missed Play Adds to Long Day for Yanks,” The New York Times, January 18, 2006.
Let’s see: two players making a combined $44 million a year who haven’t liked each other for half a decade. One’s among the most beloved player in Yankees history. The other regularly gets booed at home. And the team’s manager diplomatically takes sides while pretending he’s not taking sides.
Am I forgetting anything? Oh yeah: the Yankees lost to the Orioles, 12-2.
Post Categories: A-Rod & Derek Jeter & Yankees
August 17th, 2006 → 11:49 pm @ Seth Mnookin
And this time, there won’t be any WrestleMania V. Simmons and I have kissed and made up. (Except we didn’t actually kiss.) We’ve got five games with the Yankees over the next four days. It’s time to focus all of our thin-skinned anger at the real opponent.
Post Categories: Bill Simmons & Wrestlemania
August 17th, 2006 → 10:26 am @ Seth Mnookin
The Red Sox have lost 12 out of 20 games. David Wells — who not long ago said he wanted to blow up Fenway — has become the team’s ace. The combined salaries of Keith Foulke and Matt Clement are higher than the Florida Marlins’ payroll. Mike Timlin discovered there are not one, but two i’s in his last name. And it’s beginning to feel like any time David Ortiz doesn’t hit a ball out of the park, the Sox lose. (For anyone wondering, that’s not technically true.) It’s been a grim stretch, and one that would depress any team — the Royals, the Devil Rays, even the Cardinals. Last night’s win over the Tigers didn’t alter the fact that the Sox have the feel of a team with the wheels coming off. Remember interleague play, when it seemed as if the Sox were incapable of beating themselves? For the last month, it’s been the opposite: time and time and time again, the Sox have handed away wins because of mental lapses or stupid moves or plain old bad execution. It hasn’t been fun, and it hasn’t been pretty.
I understand that people get testy when their team loses. I also understand that reality is starting to settle in; for the first time in four years, the Red Sox don’t particularly feel like they’re a team that deserves to make the playoffs. Could it happen? Sure: if Beckett morphs into the pitcher he’s shown glimpses of being; if the middle relief stops coughing up runs as if they were party favors; if Manny and Ortiz once again carry the team on their backs for the last month of the season. But last year, and especially the two years before that, not making the playoffs would have been a slap in the face: those were teams that were too good not to be playing ball in October. The 2006 Red Sox feel like a good team with some flaws and a lot of bad luck. Unless you’re in the National League, that’s usually not good enough.
What I don’t get is people insisting the Sox would be running away with the division if they’d only kept Pedro/Damon/OCab/Dave Roberts/Nelson de la Rosa. By this point, I know all too well that there’s no sense arguing facts when emotion is involved. (See: the Red Sox really are like world politics!) But there are a few things I want to remind people of:
1. This year Pedro was 0-2 with a 4.76 ERA versus AL teams; the Mets were 1-3 in his three AL starts. (Last year he was 1-1 (the Mets were 1-3) with a 3.21 ERA.*) He started the season with a toe injury. He was out for all of July with a strained hip. He’s back on the DL with a strained calf. Pedro Martinez would not be an all-purpose savior. If the Red Sox had Pedro Martinez circa 1999, they’d be running away with the division. They’d also be running away with the division if they had Nomar circa 1999, Yaz circa 1967, or Williams circa 1941. Those players are gone. (Not to beat a dead horse, but Pedro did not have a four-year offer from any team in baseball until the night he signed with the Mets. Fernando Cuza told the Sox what Pedro needed to return to Boston; the Sox gave it to him. Pedro used the Sox’s offer as leverage with Omar Minaya. If you want to read more about this, it’s in pps. 318 – 325 of my book. If you want to go to your grave thinking this was a Carlton Fisk-like screw up, there’s nothing I can say that’ll make you feel any differently.)
2. Ten million dollars a year for a 32-year old center fielder with a lifetime .290 average (.784 OPS) and a throwing arm that requires a daisy chain of cutoff men is not an insulting offer. Regardless, Scott Boras told the Red Sox not to bother making Damon any other offer if they couldn’t match his imaginary six-year, $72 million contract. Instead, the Sox ended up with a player with very similar career numbers who happens to be six years younger and $10 million cheaper. (If you want to read more about this, it’s in pps. 389 – 392 of my book.)
3. Over the past half-decade, the Sox have had a half-dozen superstar-type players, (and Johnny Damon makes this list more because of his cult status than anything else). If they’d held on to all of these players, this is how between half and three-quarters of the team’s 2008 payroll would be spent (players’ ages are in parentheses):
Pedro Martinez, $13 million (37)
Johnny Damon, $13 million (35) (also owed $13 mil for 2009)
Manny Ramirez, $20 million (36)
Nomar Garciaparra, $17 million (35)
Jason Varitek: $10 million, (36)
David Ortiz: $13 million, (32)
Curt Schilling (not under contract for 2008)
That’s six players with an average age of 35 and an average salary of $14 million, for a total of $86 million. The only one of those players who has a chance to be worth that kind of money that far down the line is Papi. I’d say it’s even money as to whether Nomar and Pedro will still be in the game. (And for those who want to exclude Nomar from this list, you can’t pick and choose which one-time greats you want to keep in town after you see how it all works out.)
***
Yesterday, Bill Simmons took an odd, passive-aggressive swipe at me in his ESPN column. To wit: “I could spend the next 3,000 words ranting and raving about the unacceptable performance of the Henry/Theo regime since they won the World Series…but I don’t want to ruin my chances of getting a key to the office next season. So let’s just say that everyone did a swell job and I fully support every moronic decision that was made. Now where’s my key?” I say odd and passive-aggressive because instead of just calling me out he threw in a coded reference that’d make sense only to people who not only knew about my book but knew a lot of the details about its writing. I have no idea what my access in 2005 has to do with what I write on a blog in 2006. I hadn’t written a word about the Sox when the team and I agreed that I’d write a book. And nothing I do (or don’t) write now is going to get me a key (or any access) in the future; that ship has sailed. (Another side note: Apparently, people only like complaining about the so-called negative Boston media until they get upset…and then they want to complain about the lack of negativity.) For the record, there’s plenty about the last few years I disagreed with, at the time and in retrospect. I didn’t like the Renteria signing when it happened, and when members of the front office told me last year that their scouting on Renteria indicated that he was a better defensive player than he ended up being, I felt like asking them what their eyes had told them: in 2004, Renteria looked like a good defensive shortstop the way Derek Jeter looks like a good defensive shortstop. A lot of the front office, and Theo in particular, thought a more mild-mannered team would make it easier for the players to deal with the media frenzy and fan adulation that comes with playing in Boston. I thought differently, although to be fair I’m not totally sure if that’s because it’s fun to cover — and watch — a bunch of Johnny Damons than a bunch of Mark Lorettas. And I’m at a loss to explain how a front office that is so smart and so hard-working have a seeming inability to put together a reliable bullpen.
But like I said, the personal swipe isn’t what really bothers me. (It’s hard not to take some perverse pride in being the only writer in America who’s disliked by both Bill Simmons and Dan Shaughnessy.) What does bother me is complaining about today while ignoring both yesterday and tomorrow. It’s that attitude that results in shortsighted moves. The Red Sox are not the Yankees. (Thank god for that — if the Yankees had made good decisions, like, say, signing Carlos Beltran instead of Randy Johnson, it’d be a hell of a lot harder to compete with a $200 million payroll. And maybe it’s just me, but I have more fun rooting for a team when it’s not so painfully apparent its m.o. is to just go out and try to buy championships; I’m into the smarts and nerve stuff, too. I love baseball because of the way it mirrors life, and sometimes life is unfair. Sometimes Matt Clement gets hit flush in the side of the head with a line drive after being named an All-Star; sometimes David Wells takes a ball off his balky knee the day he comes off a trip to the DL necessitated by his balky knee. And sometimes you break a leg just before you’re supposed to go skiing in the Alps. When that happens, you need to deal with it; you don’t get to go buy a new leg.) I wish August 2006 were more like August 2004, too. But I’m glad the Sox have made some unpopular decisions over the past few years — letting Cliff Floyd walk, signing David Ortiz, trading Nomar. I’m also glad that, come 2008, I won’t be watching a team hamstrung by a bunch of bloated contracts. Could the Sox have made a trade deadline move? Sure. Do I wish they had? Yup. When I think of Timlin, Delcarmen, and Hansen do I say to myself, as Simmons does, “ALL OF THEM SUCK!” Nope. Do I think the plan is to “go to war with a one-man bullpen for the next 10 weeks?” Nope.
Then again, when Hansen and Delcarmen are helping to nail down the playoffs in a year or two, I’ll be watching the games instead of ordering my second venti latte of the day. (How’s that for passive aggresive?)
* Edited after correction by aro13 in comment #42.
Post Categories: Bill Simmons & Dan Shaughnessy & David Ortiz & Feeding the Monster reactions & Nomar Garciaparra & Pedro Martinez & Theo Epstein
August 15th, 2006 → 8:34 pm @ Seth Mnookin
WEDNESDAY MORNING EDIT: In retrospect, this was the most fun I had on Tuesday night.
Denis Leary and Lenny Clarke came by the NESN broadcast booth for an inning of tonight’s game. It started out smoothly enough — you know, Clarke talking about sex hernias, that sort of thing. Then, as so often happens in baseball, the conversation turned to race a religion.
Denis Leary: Now, Youkilis, is he a Greek kid?
Jerry Remy: No, I don’t think so.
Don Orsillo: I think he’s Jewish.
JR: He’s Jewish, yeah.
Lenny Clarke: Really?
DL: that’s fantastic. That’s one bottle of whiskey away from being Irish Catholic. They got the Manischewitz, we got the Jamesons. It’s the same guilt, the same bad food. That’s fantastic, we got a Jewish first baseman! I didn’t know that. This is fabulous. …I’m so proud to have a Jewish first baseman. i didn’t even know!
LC: I hope Mel Gibson doesn’t come into this park. We’ll run him out of here on a rail.
Jerry Remy begins hacking; it sounds as if he might be on the verge of losing a lung. Sean Casey hits a ball sharply in between first and second. Youkilis snares the ball from his knees and tosses to Curt Schilling for the out.
DL: Nice! Yeah, where’s Mel Gibson now! Where’s Mel Gibson now, huh? He’s in rehab! he’s in rehab and Youkilis has got first base, alright Mel! (Don Orsillo giggles uncontrollably.) You happy Braveheart, huh? You see that grab, Mel? I hope in rehab they’re showing replays of that. A Jewish first baseman makes the play, Mel Gibson! Good luck when you come out. Call Jeffrey Katzenberg and ask for a job when you get out. We’ll have a whole Jewish infield by the time he gets out. Bring back Sandy Koufax, Mel Gibson, huh? Braveheart, my ass. Thatta boy, Kev.
LC: We should have Sandy Koufax pitch at Mel’s head.
DL: That should be his community service, get in the box against Sandy Koufax. Guess who’s at first base? Kevin Youkilis!
LC: Now what other Jewish players are there, because I’m not aware.
JR: Gabe Kapler, I think.
DL: Gabe Kapler! We got two Jews on this team, Mel! Where’s your father now, huh?
LC: How about that, Mel?
DL: Yeah. It feels good to get that out, didn’t it?
LC: We’ve got quite a team.
LC: Are we in trouble?
DL: No, we’re not in trouble. They don’t have TVs in rehab.
LC: Oh, I don’t care about Mel.
Beat.
DO: Um, your website‘s here. (Points to computer monitor.)
DL: Oh, wonderful!
DL: That’s learyfirefighters.org, and if you go to the Jeremiah Lucey Fund that will help all the New Orleans firefighters, and if you didn’t know, no firefighters, not a single member of that department quit between the time Katrina hit and right now, a year later, not one member.
LC: That’s right.
Beat.
DL: Boy, I’m so happy about that Kevin Youkilis thing.
LC: And Kapler! I didn’t even know!
DL: Well you know what’s gonna happen, Gibson’s gonna make amends: ‘Oh, I love the Red Sox! I love the first baseman!’ Oh yeah, sure you do. Sure you do Mel.
LC: If I were Youkilis and Kapler I’d say, well, listen, am I in your next movie?
DL: Can we put some blue paint on our faces? Come on, Braveheart, huh? Look, I don’t know Mel. Why are we jumping all over him, you know what i mean? He had a little bit of tequila. You know those days. You were there.
LC: Now wait a minute, I never got personal. I never went with religion.
DL: No you didn’t. You always went with the face and the ugly and the fat and the nice dress and your girlfiend.
LC: It doesn’t matter what religion, you treat me good I’ll treat you better.
DL: That’s right.
Curt Schilling throws to Youkilis to pick Craig Monroe off of first.
DL: Ahhhh! Mel gibson take a look at that!
LC: Mel Gibson, eat your heart out! Youkilis tosses the ball to a fan in the stands. And look at that! The ball went to a fan! That’s more than Mel Gibson’s ever done!
DO: See you later.
DL: Hope we didn’t get you in trouble.
DO: Thanks a lot, guys.
And…scene.
UPDATE: Deadspin has tracked down the video.
Post Categories: Denis Leary & Mel Gibson
August 15th, 2006 → 7:50 pm @ Seth Mnookin
The Eagle-Tribune is an odd paper: they have an aggressively bad website to go along with some aggresively good reporters. Last year, John Tomase did consistently great work covering the Sox; when he got hammered by readers, as he did last June after a story about Manny Ramirez, he was only getting blamed for what people in the Red Sox’s front office had been saying for weeks. (Are full disclosures required for blogs? If so, full disclosure: I like John. He likes Tenacious D and Arrested Development. And he helped out with my book.)
This year, it’s Rob Bradford who’s constantly getting screwed by the Trib. Bradford’s well sourced, both within the Sox and around the league — his book, Chasing Steinbrenner, is proof positive of that. And since taking over the Sox beat last winter when Tomase headed over to the Herald to cover the Patriots, Bradford’s been breaking more than his fair share of stories. He outlined the Coco Crisp deal back in December, about a month before it happened. He got Damon to talk about the Sox’s new center fielder, got Millar to whine on-the-record about the Red Sox’s lack of loyalty, talked to Bill Morgan after the controversy about the non-physical for Beckett, went down to Florida to talk to John Henry in the middle of Theogate, and had news of Theo returning well before it happened. Of course, there’s no reason you’d know any of this; it was often impossible to find stories on the Trib‘s site even if you knew what you were looking for.
Today, the same day Jackie MacMullen has a nice piece about pitchers tipping pitches, Bradford talks to Javy Lopez about whether hitters might be able to predict what’s coming from Josh Beckett. Don’t go to the Trib‘s site for Bradford’s piece; the biggest chunk that’s freely available is posted on Dirt Dogs. The Eagle-Tribune‘s site lets you read exactly seven words.
More than a decade after the Internet became a regular presence in our lives, there are very few newspapers that have their same-day content behind a subscriber wall. There’s the Wall Street Journal, and the Times puts its columnists behind the wall. Oh, and then there are any number of stories in the Eagle-Tribune. Apparently, it’s such a popular paper it has absolutely no need to draw in readers by showing them what it has to offer.
Post Categories: Eagle-Tribune & Rob Bradford
August 15th, 2006 → 5:27 pm @ Seth Mnookin
The fake Theo Epstein MySpace page has been taken down. (Maybe the fact that Theo’s mom’s name is wrong tipped off the MySpace police.) I don’t know what’s more pathetic: the fact that someone took the time to set this up or the fact that 4,619 people fell for it and asked Theo to be their “friends.”
(If the link to the old version of the MySpace page doesn’t work on your browser, click on the “Cached” link of the first entry that comes up here.)
Post Categories: Theo Epstein
August 15th, 2006 → 4:50 pm @ Seth Mnookin
The first (and only) half-week of the 2006 Florida Monster tour included one Jeep Wrangler, one night in Boca Raton, one night in Miami, one flight the day before all liquids and gels were prohibited on domestic flights, one flight the day after all liquids and gels were prohibited on domestic flights, and several painful Red Sox losses to the Kansas City Royals. Some observations:
* As hot as it is in the Northeast, it is much hotter (and more humid) in South Florida. So hot that I rediscovered the joys of Gold Bond Powder. Ahhhh….sweet, sweet Gold Bond Powder.
* The Jeep Wrangler looks like it should be fun. It’s really not. You can’t lock the soft-tops; driving over 50 mph is incredibly loud; the handling sucks.
* Miami has its share of Red Sox fans. I’m sure Boca Raton–which is John Henry’s offseason home–does as well, but they didn’t come to my reading. The sum total was one family, one woman who was looking for a place to sit, one Barnes & Noble employee, and one homeless man.
* More reminders that I’ll never escape the shirt.
* Chip McGrath can work “Leibniz,” “Spinoza,” and “penis” into the same review and not sound ridiculous. Also, he wishes Feeding the Monster had included more porn.
* After two weeks on the Times‘s bestseller list, I slipped to No. 17, which means I’m on the extended list…but not the one printed in the paper. I hope I managed to impress everyone from my high school during those first two weeks in August.
* Cities are like personalities: it’s hard to recognize in yourself those things that drive you crazy about others. With that caveat…I’m not a fan of Miami.
* Five years ago, the hundreth stadium plan John Henry had come up with for the Marlins was squashed by the inanities of Florida politics. One of those proposals was for a domed stadium next to where the Heat play; John hoped the stadium would help revitalize the downtown. Half a decade later, that neighborhood is still literally in transition: at one point, all the traffic on Biscayne Boulevard was stopped for 20 minutes because there was an enormous metal wall that had to be hoisted onto a new building.
* Books & Books is a wonderful bookstore with very good lemonade.
* Jeffrey Loria can be a dick, kind of like George Steinbrenner without the bloated payroll. (Also: hi, Capozzi!)
* I miss the Todds. (Hi, Todds!)
That does it until September, when I’ll be making a pair of stops in Manhattan and doing another abbreviated swing through New England. As always, if you want to be kept up to date, sign up for the Monster Newsletter. And remember to buy Feeding the Monster for your friends and loved ones. There’s enough porn in there to keep (almost) everyone satisfied.
Post Categories: Feeding the Monster Readings
