Home Run Derby Part I

OK, this is a long entry. A LOOOOOONG entry. So, I'm splitting it up in two parts. I would ask one question: If anyone here is a Blogger expert and can tell me how to set it up so only the first few paragraphs appear on my front blog page, I would appreciate that.

I am fascinated by those improbable records and streaks in sports. They are all over the place, of course. Northwestern, for instance, has never made the NCAA basketball tournament. I was so blown away by that, I wrote an entire column about it. My favorite fact: Twelve teams with “North” in the name have made the tournament and four teams with “Western” have made the tournament. But no Northwestern. Heck, Northwestern STATE has made the tournament.

Enough of that. I don’t want to jinx Northwestern. My favorite college football team for the longest time was South Carolina because the Gamecocks would consistently draw 75-80,000 fans to their games – and those are some crazy fans down there – even though they had NEVER WON A BOWL GAME. In recent years, the Gamecocks have won a couple of Outback Bowls and are now pretty much like every other mid-level major college football program. It’s not the same. I’m sure I’ll feel the same regret when Northwestern gets into the tournament.

One of my favorite improbable records: The Kansas City Royals’ record for home runs is still 36. This is still unbelievable to me. It’s like the steroid era never came to Kansas City. The record was set in 1985 by Steve Balboni. And the truth is no Royals player has come particularly close to breaking it. Gary Gaetti hit 35 homers in 1995 – so had that been a full season, he probably would have broken the record. Of course, then the Royals record would be like 38 and held by Gary Gaetti, which isn’t all that different. As it was, Gaetti didn’t hit his 35th homer until the last day of the season.

As a public service, we will offer the home run records for all 30 teams, and maybe a little something to go with it. Here are the first 15 teams.

Disneyland Angels: 47, Troy Glaus (2000)

For a long time the Angels’ record was Reggie Jackson’s 39 in 1982. That’s one of the great “screw you” years in baseball history – remember the bitterness when he signed with the Angels? I think many people assumed Reggie was done. He was 35 already. He had been pretty lousy during the strike year of 1981 – he hit .237 and finished out of the Top 10 in homers for the first time in 10 years. He signed with California, hit those 39 homers and the Angels won the division. He had proved his point. The next year, Mr. October hit .194.

Anyway, Glaus crushed 47 homers in 2000 (led the league) and 41 homers in 2001 – he really is a masher, but he’s the worst home run derby player I’ve ever seen.

Arizona Diamondbacks: 57, Luis Gonzalez (2001)

So where does this rank among the all-time fluke years in baseball history? Gonzo’s second highest home run total is 31. I took a couple of minutes to look up some of the more famous fluke home run years – I haven’t found a bigger gap yet. I'm sure there are some.

Gonzo
Highest: 57 (2001)
Second: 31 (2000)
Gap: 26

Brady Anderson
Highest: 50 (1996)
Second Highest: 24 (1999)
Gap: 26

Davey Johnson
Highest: 43 (1973)
Second Highest: 18 (1971)
Gap: 25

Barry Bonds
Highest: 73 (2001)
Second Highest: 49 (2000)
Gap: 24

By the way, the official quote you are supposed to use when you have an unnaturally high number of home runs is: “I was really seeing the ball well that year.”

Atlanta Braves, 51, Andruw Jones (2005)

No offense to Jones, who is a terrific player, but it’s still odd to see that Braves homer list and see Jones in front, followed by Eddie Matthews, Hank Aaron, Eddie Matthews and Hank Aaron.

Baltimore Orioles, 50, Brady Anderson (1996)

Ugh. Can we petition the league to give the record back to Frank Robinson, who hit 49 homers in his Triple Crown year of 1966? Jim Gentile is third with 41 homers in 1961 – that was the year he hit grand slam home runs in consecutive at-bats. Could you even imagine how happy his fantasy owners would have been?

Boston Red Sox: 54, David Ortiz (2006)

Jimmie Foxx hit 50 in 1938, and that was the Boston record for 67 years.

One of my favorite Big Papi stories involves Grady Little (of course) who in 2003 apparently wanted to keep some utility middle infielder instead Ortiz.

This to me is not only a classic Grady story – it’s a classic manager’s story. Something happens to these guys when they become managers; it’s like, suddenly, utility infielders, pinch runners and mop-up relievers become the most important people in their lives. They always call these guys “invaluable” because they do the “little things.” Managers love the little things.

To be fair: I think this is because managers are the least powerful leaders in sports – they can’t design plays or call timeouts or make inspirational halftime speeches. All they can do, really, is change pitchers and put in a good defensive shortstop at the end of the game who might make a dazzling play. Think about the frustration level. I would bet when you do put in a defensive shortstop at the end of the game, and he makes some dazzling play to win the game, you feel like a milliion bucks. I'll bet it feels better than two grand slams.

Chicago Cubs, 66, Sammy Sosa (1998)

Even now, after everything, the numbers still look like a misprint – Sosa hit 66 homers in 1998, 63 in 1999, 50 in 2000, and 64 in 2001. What can you say?

Chicago White Sox, 49, Albert Belle (1998)

Albert Bell. Well, that’s kind of a shocker, isn’t it? Each of the White Sox Top 12 home run seasons has come since 1994 – before that, the record of 37 was shared by Carlton Fisk and Dick Allen.

I was once in a cab in Shreveport – don’t ask – and the driver was friends with Albert Belle. He knew him well enough, I recall, that he called him “Joey.” He said that Joey was terribly misunderstood (of course) and that everyone in high school loved him (he was an excellent student and had some role in student government) and everybody just assumed he would become President of the United States. I’m not sure how that would have gone, but I suspect we would have handled Iraq differently.

Belle could have won three MVP awards, and he was certainly robbed in 1995. He’s also the subject of one of my favorite newspaper lines, offered by my friend Tom Keegan, when he worked at the New York Post. The line: “Albert Belle glared exclusively at the Post.”

Cincinnati Reds, 52, George Foster, 1977.

Finally, we have a leader from before the homer era. This was the first 50 home run season of my life, and I remember at the time thinking that George Foster had to be some sort of superhuman. Years later, I saw Foster when he was with the Mets, and I could not believe how, well, average he looked.

Actually, what I remember most is that before the game there were a bunch of autograph-seeking kids yelling, “George! George!” And finally George turned to one of them, pointed and yelled, “Stan! Stan!” And then he walked away.

Cleveland Indians: 52, Jim Thome (2002)

For four years, Belle held the record for two teams – he hit 50 homers for the Tribe in 1995. … The record for my childhood years as an Indians fan was shared by Andre Thornton, who hit 33 in 1978 (I was 11), and Cory Snyder, who hit 33 in 1987 (not really childhood, but I still acted like a kid).

I loved Thornton, a spiritual man who overcame one of the saddest things I’ve ever heard. The year he came to Cleveland, he was driving a van with his wife and daughter, when he skidded off the road. His wife and daughter were killed. Thornton had a deep faith, and he was able to put his life back together. The next year, he hit those 33 home runs. I understand he's become very successful in business and travels around inspiring people -- doesn't surprise me at all.

I remember going to a mall once as a kid, and Thornton was there, and he handed me a pamphlet telling his story. He patted me on the head too, I think. He is, by all accounts, a remarkable man. I slept with that pamphlet under my pillow for weeks.

As for Cory Snyder, there was a time when I had 123 of his rookie cards.

Colorado Rockies, 49, Todd Helton (2001) and Larry Walker (1997)

Does anyone even look at Rockies offensive statistics seriously anymore? It’s like that great Jerry Seinfeld line about how handicapped parking spots are the mirages of the parking lot. You see a spot up front … right next to the front door. Can it be? How is this possible? What a lucky break. And then you see that it’s a handicapped spot, and it’s like “Ohhhhhh, it's gone.” It’s like that spot never existed.

Same with Colorado offensive numbers. You see a season, oh my gosh, Larry Walker hit .366 with 49 homers. A .720 slugging percentage! What a season! Unbelievable! That’s like some Babe Ruth or Jimmie Foxx season, that’s incredible – oh wait, never mind. He did it in Colorado.

Detroit Tigers, 58, Hank Greenberg (1938)

One thing that interests me – because I’m easily amused – is the relationship between doubles and home runs. It seems to me that, generally speaking, when someone has an especially big home run year, he will have a lousy doubles year. I guess the theory is that every player only hits so many long fly balls in any one year. Some go out. Some hit the wall for a double. Some are caught at the warning track. When any one of those types goes up, the others go down.

I bring this up for Greenberg because in ’38 he banged those 58 homers but he only hit 23 doubles – by far the lowest full-season total of his career. The year before he had hit 40 home runs, but he had 49 doubles. The next year, his homers dropped to 33, but his doubles bounced back up to 42. In fact, look at this chart.

Hank Greenberg (doubles plus homers)
1934: 89 (63 doubles, 26 homers)
1935: 82 (46 doubles, 36 homers)
1936: Injured
1937: 89 (49 doubles, 40 homers)
1938: 81 (23 doubles, 58 homers)
1939: 75 (42 doubles, 33 homers)
1940: 91 (50 doubles, 41 homers)

You can see that as homers go up, doubles go down, and vice versa. I’m sure someone has done an in-depth study on this relationship. I did notice that Sosa hit 20 and 24 doubles the years he hit 66 and 63 homers. Then, he dropped to 50 homers, but his doubles jumped to 34.

Florida Marlins, 42, Gary Sheffield (1996)

I just got Sheffield’s book “Inside Power” in the mail, and I intend to read it because I’ve always kind of liked Sheffield. But I will say this: I opened the book up to the middle somewhere and the first sentence I read was, “I’ve always like negotiating contracts.”

Houston Astros, 47, Jeff Bagwell (2000).

That was the first year the Astros played in Enron-Minute-Maid-Whatever-They-Call-It Park, and what a joy that must have been for those hitters after all those years in the ridiculously spacious Astrodome. You want to talk about taking the donut off the bat – wow.

You know, from 1965 to 1999, the Astrodome rated as a bad hitters park every single year, except one. In 1973, it rated exactly neutral for hitters – a 100. Four Astros hit 20-plus home runs that year, including Cesar Cedeno, whose 1973 season is a wonder to behold. He hit .320 with 25 homers and 56 stolen bases. But, it should be said that it wasn’t because of the Astrodome – he hit .346 with 16 homers on the road.

Anyway, in 2000, the Astros jumped into one of the BEST hitting ballparks in baseball, and hitters were like kids on spring break. Bagwell hit 47 homers, Richard Hidalgo hit 44 (up from 15 the year before), Moises Alou hit 30, heck, Mitch Meluskey hit 14 (the rest of his career, he hit 1). Unfortunately for the Astros, the other team gets to hit too, and led by Jose Lima’s 6-17, 6.65 ERA season, the Astros had the highest ERA in the league and lost 90 games.

Kansas City Royals: 36, Steve Balboni (1985)

It just doesn't look right, does it? The Royals have nine different guys in the Top 10 home run spots in team history. The only repeat player in the Top 10? Danny Tartabull. He hit 34 homers in 1987 and 31 homers in 1991. The line on Tartabull was that he was among the best in baseball history at padding his home run stats with big (and relatively meaningless) Septembers. You decide.

Danny Tartabull’s Royal Septembers
1987: .383 average, 11 of 34 homers.
1988: .302 average, 6 of 26 homers
1989: .197 average, 3 of 18 homers
1990: .300 average, 1 of 15 homers
1991: .289 average, 6 of 31 homers

I think it’s a bad rap. Really, he only padded his numbers in ’87 – and that was the year EVERYBODY padded their home run numbers, including Dale Sevum.

Los Angeles Dodgers, 49, Shawn Green (2001)

Duke Snider has five of the Dodgers’ Top 10 home run seasons – but he never hit as many homers as Adrian Beltre

For some reason, I find this odd: Shawn Green has only been to two All-Star Games. I guess I find it odd because he was a very good player – four 35+ homer seasons, a 35-steal season, a Gold Glove, all that – but even more I thought he was a very popular player. You know, I really don’t have anything more to add to this.

Quiz vs. Sutter, Take 2

One of the problems with being an opinionated researcher is that sometimes you will come across something that contradicts the point you’re trying to prove. But, hey, more than anything, you’ve got to be honest. I’ve put all the reasons why I believe Dan Quisenberry is better than Hall of Famer Bruce Sutter – he allowed fewer runs in a higher scoring league, he pitched better in big games, and I believe he had a higher peak.

That said, there is one area where Sutter was better – dealing with inherited runners. I delved into this, using the new stat I promised yesterday. The results are not exactly what I would have liked, but I think they’re honest. Also, I think we have a whole new reason to appreciate one Mother of a pitcher named Goose.

One of the things I have found frustrating when comparing Dan Quisenberry and Bruce Sutter is dealing with the whole inherited-runners question. Obviously, inherited runners are not too important when talking about closers these days. They generally do their one inning and split. Last year, K-Rod led everyone with 47 saves – he only dealt with 20 inherited runners all year (He allowed eight of them to score, if you care).

But in the Quiz-Sutter days, closers came into emergency situations – remember when they were called “Firemen” on their baseball cards? They were putting out fires, all right. In 1979, for instance, Quiz had a four week span where he came in with the bases loaded five times. It was like that back then. So as I tried to compare Quiz and Sutter, a big piece was missing: How do you measure their performances with inherited runners?

Of course, the easy way to do this is just to see how many runners each inherited and how many scored – this seems to be the common way to measure such things. In this, Sutter looks better. By my count, he allowed just 137 of 445 (30.8 percent), which is outstanding. Quiz, on the other hand, allowed 201 of 523 (38.4 percent).

But just looking at the gross “inherited runners scored” tell much of a story. Where were those runners inherited? How many outs were there? If a reliever strands a runner on first with two outs, well, that counts exactly the same as if he came in with a runner on third and nobody out. And, of course, it isn’t the same at all.

So I took my first stab at creating a new statistic. Now, I suspect that someone else has already come up with the perfect statistic for inherited runs – probably those brilliant folks at Baseball Prospectus – but I wasn’t savvy enough to find it. So I probably “invented” a poorer version of some statistic that already existed … I'm Elisha Gray sending in my patent too late on the telephone. All I ask is that you to cut me a break. I failed accounting.

What I did was this: I took a run matrix – you know, one of those charts that shows you how many runs are expected to score in each situation. There are actually dozens out there -- I tried to pick a matrix that represented the years Quiz and Sutter pitched. I figure the numbers in the matrix itself don’t matter too much, as long as I use the same matrix for both.

With that matrix I came up with how many runs were expected to score every time Quiz and Sutter entered a game. Then, I plugged in how many runs actually scored and figured out how many runs Quiz and Sutter "saved" (I only counted inherited runners – I figured that their ERAs already handled the runs they gave up on their own dime).

So, for example, let’s say that Sutter came into a game with the bases loaded and nobody out. According to my run matrix, in that situation, 2.16 runs are expected to score. If Sutter managed to hold the team scoreless, by my count, he saved the team 2.16 runs. If one runner scored, he saved his team 1.16 runs. If all three runners scored, he cost the team .84 runs. See?

Let’s do an easy one – Mariano Rivera’s 2006 season. Rivera came into the game 11 times last season with runners on base. He had one dreadful outing – bases loaded, two outs, he allowed all three runs to score. By my count, he cost his team 2.25 runs on that day. But he also came in with a runner on first five times, and only once allowed him to score -- which is good. Overall, the system says he saved the Yankees 2.06 runs last year – which isn’t great, but isn’t bad either considering he’s rarely used with runners on base. Those are two saved runs that are not accounted for in his ERA.

So, what does the system say about Sutter and Quiz?

Well, the system shows pretty clearly that Sutter was more effective saving his team – and his teammates – runs.

Inherited Runs Saved (career)
Sutter: 89.5
Quiz: 58.9

Sutter was much more consistent over his career when it came to inherited runners. Quiz had by far the best season saving runs – in fact, his 1980 season could be one of the great relief pitching seasons ever.

Quiz/Sutter’s Top 5 Inherited Runs Saved (seasons)
1. Quiz, 1980, 24.5
2. Sutter, 1979, 14.7
3. Quiz, 1985, 13.1
4. Sutter, 1984, 13.0
5. Sutter, 1978, 12.2

Sutter, as you will see here, was pretty consistent when it came to saving runs, at least until he got to Atlanta in 1985.

Sutter’s IRS year-by-year
1976: 11.6
1977: 9.4
1978: 12.2
1979: 14.7
1980: 7.8
1981: 3.9
1982: 12.0
1983: 4.3
1984: 13.0
1985: -0.7
1986: 0.2
1988: 1.0

Quiz, on the other hand, only had those two great seasons against inherited runners. He had a few good seasons, and he had one awful season. You can see pretty clearly that after 1985, he really wasn’t very good with runners on base (he did have a bit of a renaissance in 1989).

Quiz’s IRS year-by-year
1979: 0.0
1980: 24.5
1981: 7.7
1982: 5.5
1983: 5.8
1984: 5.1
1985: 13.1
1986: 0.4
1987: -8.0
1988: -1.2
1989: 6.3
1990: -0.2

Now, what are the reasons for the difference between Sutter and Quiz? Well, it seems likely that Sutter’s ability to get the strikeout and prevent hits was helpful in stranding runners – let’s give him full credit. But there is something else: Quiz was put in a lot more difficult situations. In Quiz's career, he was inserted with the bases loaded 39 times – Sutter only 17. Quiz came in with runners on first and second 85 times – Sutter 73. In his career, Quiz faced 43 more runners in scoring position, which is actually quite a lot more.

Also late in their careers – when both were showing their age – Quiz was still being asked to put out fires, while Sutter (for the most part) was coming in to start innings. Through their first seven years, they were comparable (Sutter was still better, but not much). After that, Sutter was still pretty good, Quiz was below average.

All of this is not to downplay the findings – the conclusion here is that Quiz was good at keeping inherited runners from scoring, especially in his prime. Sutter was clearly better. I don’t think this makes up the gap – I still think Quiz was a better pitcher overall. But it’s close. And anyway, the point of all this is that Bruce Sutter was elected into the Hall of Fame when nobody even considered Quiz a Hall of Famer – and that’s not right.

Before we move on to something that you folks might care about, there is one more point to be made. This system shows something more significant – Goose Gossage was better than either Quiz or Sutter. He was, in fact, A LOT better than either one of them. Look for yourself.

Inherited Runs Saved
1. Goose: 144.0
2. Sutter: 89.5
3. Quiz: 58.9

Oh man, Goose was incredible with runners on base. According to this system, Gossage saved 58.8 inherited runs just from 1975-78 – and that’s just three seasons because he was a full-time starter in 1976.

Goose Gossage’s IRS year-by-year
1972: 9.1
1973: 3.8
1974: 8.7
1975: 23.8
1976: Starter
1977: 15.0
1978: 20.0
1979: 5.0
1980: 13.0
1981: 7.0
1982: 8.3
1983: 5.1
1984: 3.9
1985: 2.9
1986: 1.2
1987: 0.2
1988: 0.7
1989: 3.0
1991: 4.3
1992: 3.14 (Pi!)
1993: 0.9
1994: 5.0

In his career, Gossage stranded more base runners than either Quiz or Sutter actually had to deal with. Now consider that Gossage’s basic numbers are superior to Sutter’s (50+ more wins, 10 more saves, 600+ more strikes, etc). He had a better peak – Sutter was at his best from 1976-84. Over those nine years, he went 58-60 with 260 saves and a 2.54 ERA. Gossage from 1975-84 (this way we can skip his failed year as a starter) had nine relief pitching years where he went 71-49 with 227 saves and a 2.08 ERA. And Gossage was fabulous in 1985 too.

Then you add the Goose’s amazing performance with inherited runners. I guess it would be worth running this stat on every reliever in baseball history just to see where Goose stands historically but … there’s no way I’m going to do that. Maybe someone can show me how to write a program to do it. And then, maybe somebody has already done it. In any case, if there's one thing I've learned doing all this it is this -- it's time to put Goose into the Hall of Fame.

Quiz vs. Sutter, Take 1

One of the great things about having a blog is that it allows you to write way too much about topics that interest nobody else but you. So for the next two days, I’m going to offer WAY too much on my personal quest to answer this question: Who was the better pitcher, Dan Quisenberry or Bruce Sutter? Today, we break down a few numbers – much of this is stuff I have included here and there in my column. Tomorrow, though, I introduce a semi-new relief pitcher statistic that will undoubtedly embarrass every single math teacher I ever had.

I also want to welcome all of you who linked here from The Kansas City Star Royals page. While you’re here, why don’t you buy a book?

Before we delve into my first ever statistical study – a mathematically unsound examination of Quiz vs. Sutter (with a little Goose thrown in) – we need to offer a little background. I admired Dan Quisenberry. I only got to know him a little bit toward the end of his life, but there are certain people you feel an instant connection with. Quiz was one of those people. Everyone felt that way about him. I went to see him at a poetry reading once, we had a great time talking. He discovered that he had a brain tumor just a few weeks later. We talked a couple of times after that, once about writing, once about relationships, and shortly after he was inducted into the Royals Hall of Fame, he was gone. He was just 45 years old.

I offer this background first because I need to be blunt: I entered into this Quiz vs. Sutter project with a very specific goal in mind – to prove that Dan Quisenberry was every bit as good as Bruce Sutter. Better, even. Now, I know full well this is absolutely the wrong way to go into a research project, but as football coaches say, “It is what it is.” We all need our inspirations.

Last year, as you know, Bruce Sutter was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame after being on the ballot 13 years. Quiz, meanwhile, received just 18 votes his one year on the ballot back in 1996. That seems wrong to me. I'm not saying that Quiz belongs in the Hall of Fame (I didn't vote for Sutter). But it's time for people to realize that Quiz was, in fact, a great pitcher.

Quiz vs. Sutter

The eerie similarities: It would be hard to find two relievers whose careers overlap much more than Quiz and Sutter. They were born less than a month apart in 1953. Sutter began his Major League career three years earlier, in 1976, while Quiz didn’t make it up until 1979. Sutter retired in 1988, Quiz in 1990.

Their appearance numbers are startlingly similar. Quiz appeared in 674 games; Sutter in 661. Quiz finished 553 games, Sutter 512. They pitched almost exactly the same number of innings – Quiz threw one more, 1043.3 to 1042.3.

Their successes are startlingly similar too. Sutter won a Cy Young Award and finished in the Top 5 five times. Quiz did not win a Cy Young Award, but he finished second in the voting twice, and also finished in the Top 5 five times. Quiz won five “Rolaids Relief Awards,” Sutter won four. They both won one World Championship. They both set league records with 45 saves (though Quiz did it first). Also, Quiz had a secretary named Lincoln, while Sutter ran from a warehouse to a theater.

The vast differences: Their overall results may have been similar, but everyone knows they were very different kind of pitchers. Sutter, relying on that pioneering split-fingered fastball, was a power pitcher. He struck out almost 500 more batters than Quiz:

Strikeouts
Sutter: 861
Quiz: 379

Sutter also allowed almost 200 fewer hits:

Hits allowed
Sutter: 879
Quiz: 1064

Sutter was also a closer for roughly three years longer than Quiz, so he has quite a few more saves and victories.

Wins and Saves
Sutter: 68 wins, 300 saves
Quiz: 56 wins, 244 saves.

OK, Quiz -- whipping the ball submarine style -- had his advantages too. Despite giving up more hits, he actually faced fewer hitters than Sutter because he walked about half the number of batters:

Walks
Quiz: 162
Sutter: 309

And by throwing that devastating sinker, he coaxed almost 50 more double plays. All in all, this actually allowed him to be more effective.

ERA
Quiz: 2.76
Sutter: 2.83

Unearned runs allowed
Quiz: 36
Sutter: 42

And just for fun:

Wild pitches
Sutter: 37
Quiz: 4

Inside the numbers: The truth is, the more I have broken down the numbers over the last couple of years, the more I have found that there’s very little to separate Quiz and Sutter. Yes, Sutter had 56 more saves, and this is not inconsequential. But it's not nearly as consquential as some seem to believe. Sutter picked up that gap in his later years as a mostly ineffective closer with Atlanta. Sutter finished just 75 percent of his save opportunities. Quiz was at 80 percent.

Blown Saves
Sutter: 101
Quisenberry: 60.

And as far as the 12 extra victories go, well, Sutter also lost 25 more games than Quiz which more than makes up the difference.

Winning percentage
Quiz: 56-46, .549
Sutter: 68-71, .489

So where do you go from here? I broke down the numbers some more. Both of these guys come from a time when relievers went more than one inning. Sutter had more multiple-inning saves than Quiz while Quiz had the advantage in really long saves:

Saves earned by pitching two innings or more
Sutter 130
Quiz: 121

Saves earned by pitching three innings or more
Quiz: 37
Sutter: 15

Quiz seemed to pitch better in context. He had a better ERA than Sutter -- but he also pitched in the higher scoring league. So his ERA+ (ERA measured against league average, adjusted for ballpark factors) is A LOT better than Sutter’s. It is in fact, tied for the third-best in baseball history:

ERA+
Quiz: 146
Sutter: 136

This means that as far as preventing earned runs goes, Quiz was 46 percent better than other pitchers in his league, while Sutter was 36 percent better than his league. Another way to look at this is by using Lee Sinin's great statistic "Runs Saved Against Average."

Runs Saved Against Average
Quiz: 148
Sutter: 123

This is a pretty powerful advantage for Quiz … but I will say this: I got a thoughtful email from someone who suggested that the difference in the leagues was largely neutralized because Sutter was a late-inning reliever, so he rarely got to face other pitchers. I actually think this makes some sense. I posed the question to Bill James, who sent along a typically fascinating reply that included thoughts on Jim Rice, Elston Howard, Bill Dickey, Yankee Stadium and the designated hitter. In the end, though, he did not really know whether or not there should be a special adjustment made for National League closers. He did not think so.

There’s one other advantage for Quiz: He pitched better in pennant races. I looked at both careers after August 15 in those years when their teams were within five games of first place. It’s pretty arbitrary, I know, but the numbers are striking because Sutter, generally, tended to wear down late in seasons while Quiz did not.

In Pennant Races
Quiz: 9 wins, 7 losses, 42 saves, 177 innings, 2.54 ERA.
Sutter: 4 wins, 15 losses, 34 saves, 102 innings, 3.98 ERA.

All of this seems to prove the point that, at the very least, Quiz was the equal of Sutter and should have received significantly more Hall of Fame support (or Sutter should have received less).

So, why did Sutter get so much more Hall of Fame support? I suspect there are five reasons:

1. Sutter was a more “dominant pitcher” – strikeouts and such.
2. Sutter had more saves.
3. Sutter got a lot of credit for popularizing the split-fingered fastball.
4. Sutter won a Cy Young Award.
5. Sutter played for the Cubs and Cardinals, two nationally beloved teams.

And I would answer each of the five this way:

1. Quiz was the more efficient pitcher.
2. Quiz had the better save percentage – and Sutter picked up most of his extra saves when he was no long effective.
3. Quiz also was a pioneer with the submarine pitch – it’s not his fault others couldn’t do it as well.
4. Quiz should have won the Cy Young Award in 1983 for sure (La Marr Hoyt? Please) and possibly in’82 or ’85 as well.
5. Quiz was consistently better in big games than Sutter.

OK, glad to get that off my chest. There is one other part of Sutter vs. Quiz that I have calculated – and I have to admit that this semi-new statistic does favor Sutter. It also shows that it is ridiculous that Goose Gossage is not in the Hall of Fame. It also shows that I do not have a particularly actively nightlife. We’ll unveil that study tomorrow.

As I was saying ...

This blog interruption was brought to you by The Kansas City Star baseball section which will be coming out this Sunday. Every year, I write several long stories for our baseball section, and this always takes me out for several days. It's usually worth it, though, because the Star's special sections are usually quite amazing -- I believe we've won the big Associated Press Sports Editors award for our special sections each of the last nine years.

(OK, like you care. But next year, if you are in an APSE office pool, pick the Star special section).

Anyway, this year's section focuses on pitching aces, and I team up with Bill James on a couple of fun things, including his latest list of Top 25 starting pitchers ever (he uses a new system that I don't understand, so don't ask) and our combined look at 20 elements to create the perfect pitcher. I would love to unveil all that for you now, but that would ruin the surprise.

Instead, while decompressing, I'll provide a few links. Hey, I've seen other people take this lazy way out before ... I'll be back writing tomorrow.

-- Royals fans, you will want to click on the HF Royals Show.

-- Barry Bonds 756*#!f

-- A Buy The Soul of Baseball link ... how did that get in there?

-- I didn't know this before, but the director's cut of "The Natural" is coming out on Monday. We might add a few home runs to his season. Here is something to get the blood pumping.

-- Vac on Doc. You can't do much better than that.

-- Buster on Ryan Howard. One of my favorite stories in the book is when Kenny Lofton walks over to Buck O'Neil and says, "Buck, I want you to meet the left-handed Josh Gibson." And then he ran off and retrieved a shy Ryan Howard.
"Pleased to meet you sir," Howard said as he stares at the ground.
"You got some power, young man?" Buck asked.
"A little bit sir," Howard said, and he kept staring at the ground. Buck barked, "Don't be ashamed of your power, son," and then he offered a Haiku. He said:

If you got power
Don't hide it for nobody
Swing the bat hard, son

I'm wondering now, have I told that story on this blog already? Man, you do enough radio interviews and you wonder if you will ever again say anything original.

-- Speaking of The Natural, how about this Josh Hamilton story? They better watch the lights at the Great American Ballpark. I couldn't find any good Hamilton stories (Editor's note written 14 hours later: I realize now this makes it sound like there were no good Hamilton stories out there -- that's not at all what I meant. It was late at night, and I coudn't find any good ones. I have since read four excellent Hamilton stories). I did see this Meet the Reds page that amused me. Yowzah, could that photo of Jeff Conine be any bigger? And I love the fact it has a button where you can "Zoom." Does that take you inside his nose?

I Own You! Plus Al Fitzmorris

There will be no rhyme/reason to today's entry (like there was rhyme or reason to the Crash Davis scouting report). Today was just a day to wait around in a San Jose hotel room for Kansas and UCLA to play basketball. So I killed the time by messing around with Baseball Reference PI. For those of you who don't know about Baseball Reference PI, I would strongly recommend that you avoid it at all costs because it will drain away every free hour of your life. It is a search engine that essentially allows you to answer any baseball question you can imagine. I'm not kidding. Let's say that instead of doing something constructive like buying my book The Soul of Baseball (now featured on MLB.com!), you were wondering: "Hmm, I wonder when was the last time someone hit three triples in a game."

Rafael Furcal did it on April 21, 2002. He hit the first two off of Florida's Kevin Olsen, and he hit the last off Vic Darensbourg. He scored all three times -- and was driven in all three times by Andruw Jones. Those were the only two triples Kevin Olsen gave up all year. And so on.

One of the amazing features on Baseball Reference PI: You can break down stats to see how hitters and pitchers did against each other. This is great fun for me because I never get tired of seeing the George Brett vs. Ed Figueroa numbers. I am certain that no human ever hit another human being better than Brett hit Figueroa. Sugar Ray Robinson didn't hit Jake LaMotta this good. Sonny Corleone didn't hit Carlo this good. We'll stop now.

Brett faced Figueroa 45 times, and hit .610 against him.

It was love at first sight. Brett first faced Fig on May 1, 1975 -- it was the seventh inning, and the Royals were losing by two runs with two men on. Brett cracked a single to left, a run scored, and the Royals would go on to win the game. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Brett's next time against Fig he singled to center, next time he doubled to center, next time he singled to right.

Brett walked. He singled. He walked again. He singled again. On September 5, he faced Figueroa four times and he singled, doubled, singled and singled. He doubled to center on September 13, and then finally (finally) grounded out to second. That means the first 13 times George Brett faced Ed Figueroa, he went 11 for 11 with two walks. There has never been anything quite like it.

(In all, Brett went 12 for 14 against Figueroa in 1975 -- an .857 batting average. The rest of the league hit .223 against Figueroa).

And the great thing is that after four uneventful years, their paths would cross again in 1980 -- the year Brett almost hit .400. That season, Brett went 7 for 9 against Figueroa. Their beautiful duel ended on August 29 when Brett smashed a home run against Figueroa, grounded back to the pitcher, and then doubled to left. The last double raised his batting average to .407, the highest it would be all year.

I once asked Brett what it felt like for him to face Figueroa. He said: "You know, it's kind of hard to explain. He was a good pitcher (Figueroa finished his career 80-67, 3.54 ERA, was fourth in the Cy Young balloting in 1976). But for me, it was better than batting practice."

OK, so while looking up Brett, I found a few other unconnected but semi-interesting pitcher-batter statistics. At least I think they're interesting.

-- Mike Bielecki owned Barry Bonds. Bonds went 2 for 35 against Bielecki. He managed his one homer when Bielecki was a 36-year-old reliever in Atlanta.

-- Julian Javier hit .125 against Nolan Ryan in his career -- but he never struck out in 18 plate appearances.

-- Roberto Clemente famously owned Warren Spahn -- hit hit .471 against Spahn in 110 plate appearances. But the better Clemente statistic for me is that he faced Johnny Podres 111 times and walked once.

-- Rod Carew faced Doyle Alexander 53 times and never struck out. Hit hit .435 against Alexander. On the other hand, Carew hit .118 against Ron Guidry in 40 plate appearances.

-- John Mayberry tells a great story about Frank Tanana. They both grew up in Detroit, but I suspect that Big John may have grown up in a slightly different part of Detroit. In August 1974, Big John had 19 home runs (he was among the league leaders) when he faced Tanana in a game. Tanana came inside and hit Mayberry on the wrist. Big John missed three weeks, and was not quite right the rest of the season. He was not happy.

So early the next year (the date, sadly, is lost to history) the Royals were playing the Angels again, and Big John saw Tanana jogging in the outfield before the game. He ran after Tanana, grabbed him, shoved him against the fence and shouted, "Do you know how much money you cost me? Don't you EVER come inside on me again, you hear me? If you hit me again, I will kill you, do you understand? I will KILL you."

"After that," Big John said, "my homeboy Frank served it up on a plate for me. Nice and easy and over the middle of the plate, just how I like it."

Well, I looked it up. The whole thing is true. In 1973 and 1974, Mayberry faced Tanana 16 times, struck out six and hit .250. In 1975, he hit .462 against Tanana with zero strikeouts in 13-at bats. In fact from 1975 on, Mayberry hit .367 against Tanana and struck out just once in 30 at-bats (the strikeout came five years after the "I will kill you" incident -- and it was a very different Frank Tanana too).

-- I looked up a bunch of other stats -- Willie Mays owned Jay Hook, Hank Aaron owned Don Gullett, Jerry Kindall struck out in 18 of his 29 plate appearances against Sandy Koufax, Duane Kuiper hit .410 against Dennis Eckersley -- but I want to take one moment to write a little bit about my friend Al Fitzmorris. Fitzy is a wonderful guy and multi-talented -- he still sings and writes music like he did during his playing days -- but I want to focus on his pitching for a minute because I think it's possible that no pitcher in the last 50 years did more with less.

Fitz began his baseball career as an outfielder -- he said he was an outstanding hitter when the count was 3-1. He just couldn't get the count to 3-1 very often (Fitz did hit a respectable .242 in the big leagues). So he became a pitcher, and in the words of teammate John Mayberry, "Fitzy had absolutely nothing. He threw the kind of junk you leave on your front lawn and hope that someone steals."

The numbers bear this out. He struck out 3.23 batters every nine innings. That's astonishing. You look over the last 50 years at pitchers who threw 1,000 or more innings, and only two pitchers (Lary Sorensen and Lew Burdette) struck out fewer per nine innings. But Sorensen, Burdette and most of the others with low strikeout totals tended to have pinpoint control. Fitzy didn't have that either. He walked 3.05 batters per nine -- which ain't too great.

So we're talking about a guy who had absolutely nothing -- no stuff, no control -- and yet he went 77-59 in the big leagues. From 1973-1975, he walked more batters than he struck out. But Fitz went 37-21 with a 3.16 ERA and eight shutouts. I think, considering what Fitzy had, that stretch pound-for-pound is as good as Bob Gibson's 1968 season. Heck, anyone can get people out with a raised mound and a 98-mph fastball.

I asked Fitzy how he did it before a Royals game once, and he pointed out at batting practice. He said: "Watch these guys during batting practice. You'll see something: They don't get a hit every time up. They've got a pitcher throwing the ball from 50 feet away, right where they want it, and they still don't get a hit every time.

"The problem with pitchers today is they give too much credit to the hitter. They don't realize that it's hard to hit a baseball. I understood that because I was an outfielder who couldn't hit. Everybody's afraid to just pitch the ball. I wasn't afraid. I didn't have anything. But I wasn't afraid."

Incidentally, to keep with the theme, Reggie Jackson owned Fitz -- Reggie hit .441 against him in 40 plate appearances. Fitzy, undoubtedly, cares more about his success against Frank Robinson. He despised Frank Robinson, his manager in Cleveland. And in 24 plate appearances, Robby hit just .158 against Fitzmorris, and even more amazingly struck out six times.

Movie Scouting Report 2

Crash Davis, Durham Bulls.

Strengths: Switch hitter with power, especially from the left side. ... Generates good bat speed ... Has hit 227 home runs in the minor leagues. ... Outstanding mistake hitter. Feasts on hanging breaking balls and fastballs out and over the plate ... ... Aggressive hitter ... Hard worker who constantly tinkers with his swing ... Outstanding feel for the game. Will probably go into coaching when his career is over ... Works well with young pitchers ... Above average receiving skills. Blocks the plate. ... Calls a solid game.

Weaknesses: Cannot catch up to a good fastball, especially from right side ... Swings and misses a lot. Has never hit for a good average ... Below average arm ... Will go into prolonged slumps and then he starts to think too much. ... Has become a guess hitter in his later years. ... Won't take a walk. ... Well below average runner ... Gets down on himself.

Overall: Davis has bounced all over the place in his 12-year career ... Shows his age but he can hit the occasional home run, and he works well with young pitchers ... Still wants to play every day, and he's in good shape for a 35-year-old catcher. ... Can no longer hit upper level fastballs or good breaking pitches. ... Looks just like the guy from "The Untouchables." Eerie ... This will probably be his last year as a player. Could manage in the big leagues someday.

Movie question: Seriously, how many switch-hittting catchers with power and a sense of the game get stuck in the minor leagues for 12 years? This is just unrealistic. According to the movie, he only got 21 days in the big leagues. Heck, A.J. Hinch got almost 1,000 at-bats in the big leagues. So did Bobby Estalella.

I tried to find the Major League player who was the closest fit to Crash Davis. He had to be a switch-hitting catcher, of course, some power, a very low batting average and a reputation for loving the game. My first inclination was Buck Rodgers, who came up with some fanfare (he finished second in the 1962 Rookie of the Year race to Tom Tresh) and then hit .224 the rest of his career. He, of course, became a nondescript manager for three different Major League clubs. The only thing is, Buck Rodgers never seemed to me like the kind of guy who read Thomas Pynchon.

Matt Walbeck is a very promising Crash Davis prospect. Switch-hitting catcher, low average, from California (Crash had that California sound, didn't he?) always had a reputation as a guy who was a student of the game -- he has since released a series of instructional videos. He will be manager of the Erie SeaWolves, and he's been named manager of the year in the Midwest League twice. Matt's big drawback is that he didn't go to college. I always envisioned Crash as a guy who played in college.

So I'm going to settle on a third candidate -- and a personal hero of mine when I was young -- Chris Bando. I believe Chris was the Indians top prospect every year from, like 1953 to 1985 -- I could have the dates wrong there. Man, I loved Chris Bando. He was a switch-hitting catcher from Cleveland, he had some power, had a reputation as tough-as-nails player, was brother of Sal Bando, was a college superstar, and he killed the ball in Chattanooga one year. Trouble is, he just couldn't hit in the big leagues. He hit .213 his first year in limited at-bats, .212 his second, and never could quite make the jump to every day catcher (though to be fair, the Indians had Ron Hassey, Jerry Willard and Andy Allanson in those years).

My understanding is that Chris will be managing in Aiken this year -- and that's good. I feel like that's exactly what Crash would be doing too. ... Also his son Ben is now a catcher for Arizona State, where Chris won the College World Series. The only thing I don't get is that it says in the profile that Ben's last college was "The Master's." What is that? Do they allow women there?

The NL Central with Unnamed Scout

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Surprise! Groundless Hope and Bad Seasons

I find it both goofy and oddly touching that the Kansas City Royals train in a city called “Surprise.” It’s a bit like Bill Clinton being from a place called Hope. Every year, I come here, get stuck in the quagmire that is suburban Phoenix traffic, eat at various chain restaurants with names like Carrabas, and every year I feel that pointless, self-destructive but undeniable feeling that the Royals really COULD surprise, you know, if twenty or two hundred things happened to go right.

This is a baseball feeling that goes way back. The Cleveland Indians of my childhood were almost equally hopeless, and yet come March I would always put together a rather lengthy list of “Things that have to go right for the Indians to win the World Series.” The list usually involved Rick Waits putting things together and Charlie Spikes finding his power stroke. Now, with the Royals, the list involves Gil Meche putting things together and Emil Brown finding his power stroke.

It’s amazing how little my life has advanced in 30 years.

This is even truer than I first realized. The Royals are managed by Buddy Bell, an old hero and a staple of my childhood Indians teams. Fred Kendall is a coach – he was on the ’77 Indians, one of my favorites. And Monday, I saw grand old Dave Garcia driving a golf cart around the Surprise complex. Garcia was the manager of the Indians for much of my childhood – he’s now 87 years old but his memory is still sharp, and he’s the greatest guy. Point is, I’m never going to escape those old Indians teams.

ANYWAY, a partial list of things that have to go right for the Royals: Gil Meche develops into a high-end pitcher, Zack Greinke finds himself, Alex Gordon steps into immediate stardom, Mark Teahen repeats 2006* but for a full season (they’re talking about him in center field now – and he looks surprisingly good out there), Octavio Dotel recaptures his 2002-2003 form (he looks fabulous now – hitting 97 on the radar gun), Ryan Shealy bangs 25 homers, Esteban German repeats 2006* but for a full season, David DeJesus stays healthy, Mike Sweeney stays healthy, one of the Luke Hudson, Odalis Perez, Brian Bannister and Jorge de la Rosa quartet becomes an above average Major League, and so on. Some of these things, I expect, might actually happen. Some obviously will not.

There’s one hope that is too ridiculous to dream even in Surprise on a warm day in March -- the hope that Angel Berroa will reemerge. I was watching Berroa play another miserable game on Monday – he’s got a .270 on-base percentage with a .314 slugging percentage this spring which means he’s picked it right up from 2006, when he managed to finish dead last in the league in both OBP and SLG. He also showed no speed and played flat-footed defense.

Speaking of flat-footed defense, there’s a great photo on the Royals MLB.com page now. It’s a story about Alex Gonzalez, and it is headlined, “Gonzalez’s passion to play has been reignited.” Beneath is a photograph of Gonzalez reaching for a ball to his left and very clearly not getting there. This is absolutely accurate. Gonzalez (this is the long-time Blue Jays shortstop) does play hard, but these days his range is roughly the circumference of Ben Affleck.

ANYWAY, watching Berroa made me remember some of the amazingly bad individual seasons I’ve had the honor of watching as a columnist in Kansas City. Berroa. Lima. Neifi. Juan Gone. Bottalico. I was thinking: Sheesh, I’ll bet five of the worst 10 seasons in the Major Leagues since I arrived in 1996 were by Royals.

So, I decided to rank the 10 worst seasons in the Major Leagues since 1996:

10. Mike Caruso, Chicago White Sox, 1999. He was very, very difficult to strike out – he led the American League in that “toughest guy to strike out” in both of his full seasons in the big leagues. The trouble was that nobody really wanted to strike him out. He had a .280 on-base percentage and .297 slugging percentage in 1999, and for a speed guy he was caught stealing more often than he was successful. Three years later, he was a Kansas City Royal.

9. Casey Fossum, Arizona, 2004. He was the key player in the deal that sent Curt Schilling to Boston. I remember a friend telling me that deal would look good for Arizona someday. Schilling led Boston to its first World Championship since Emma Susan Daugherty Bannister became the first female sheriff in the United States (I love Wikipedia). Fossum went 4-15 with a 6.65 ERA.

8. Brian Anderson, Kansas City, 2004. His overall numbers (6-12, 5.64 ERA) do not place him in the Top 10. But for one month he was awe-inspiringly awful. From April 25 to May 27 that year, he went 0-7 with an 8.27 ERA (he also gave up nine unearned runs) and the league hit .385 against him. I’ve never felt worse for a player, especially because BA is an off-the-charts good guy. I’m sure he was pitching hurt, but he never made excuses and at one point he said, “They could call up a hard-throwing guy from high school, and that guy couldn’t pitch as badly as I’m pitching. It’s impossible to pitch as badly as I'm pitching.”

7. Shawn Chacon, Colorado, 2004. Yes, he pitched a lot in thin air, but 1-9 with a 7.11 ERA and 52 walks in 63 innings still counts.

6. Scott Brosius, Oakland 1997. What a weird year. He was terrific in 1996 with Oakland – hit .300 with power. He was an All-Star with the Yankees in 1998 and was the World Series MVP. But in ’97, Brosius hit .203 with a .317 slugging percentage. What is it Joe Garagiola always says? It’s a gelastic game? A riotous game? A diverting game? What’s that word?

5. Jim Abbott, California, 1996. He went 2-18 with a 7.48 ERA. It brings me no joy to put an inspirational guy like Abbott on the list. But he went 2-18 with a 7.48 ERA.

4. Ramon Santiago, Detroit, 2003. That 2003 Tigers team was the worst I ever saw, but it was truly a team effort – there were not too many comical seasons. Mike Maroth went 9-21, but you always got the sense that he was a good pitcher in a bad situation. Franklyn German led the team with five saves, and he had a sparking 6.04 ERA, but that won’t rank him with the worst relievers of the last decade. So, the star has to be Santiago, who did not do anything particularly well other than bunt people over. He managed a .284 slugging percentage in more than 500 plate appearances, which was hard to do in 2003

3. Eric Milton, Cincinnati, 2005. Record, 8-15. ERA: 6.47. Contract: 3 years, $25.5 million.

2. Neifi Perez, Kansas City, 2002. I’ve already gone over Perez’s magical season in another blog entry – he had a 40 OPS+ that year, stole eight out of 17 bases, played horrendous defense and offered that team-first attitude that inspired him to once refuse to go into a game. One of the most amazing parts of that season is that despite all that Neifi got 585 plate appearances – the Royals either led him off or hit him second 54 games.

1. Jose Lima, Kansas City, 2005. I have suggested to Bill James that this is the worst pitching season in baseball history. Lima went 5-16 with a 6.99 ERA. Bill suggested back that you can’t overlook Pat Caraway in 1931 (10-24, 6.22 ERA, and a remarkable 101 walks compared to 55 strikeouts) or Dan Griner in 1913 (10-22, 5.08 ERA which was hard to do in the deadball era). You also don’t want to discount Abbott’s 1996 season. I still think Lima was worse. Maybe I feel that way because the Royals paid him $250,000 in incentives for that performance.

So ... I’m surprised Berroa did not make the list. The Royals only have three of my worst 10 seasons – and Brian Anderson really does not belong here. Several other pitchers – LaTroy Hawkins in 1999, Jeff Fassero that same year, Hideo Nomo in 2004, Lima from 2000, on and on – were worse than Anderson. Anyway, it’s a new year. The Royals could surprise. That’s the real point here.

Movie Scouting Report 1

Roy Hobbs, New York Knights.

Strengths: Prodigious power. … Sweet left-handed swing generates unbelievable bat speed for a fairly small man. … Saw him hit the cover off the ball … Can’t throw a fastball by him … When he’s locked in, there seems no good way to pitch him. … Generally a pull hitter, but shows awesome power the other way. Hit the left-field clock in Chicago. … Hits righties and lefties equally well … Plus-plus arm in right field. May have been a pitcher. … Plays the game hard.

Weaknesses: Below average runner … Streaky hitter who can go into pronounced slumps. Word on the street is he likes to party a bit … Not an especially patient hitter. When struggling will chase the outside breaking balls … Seems easily distracted, especially by women. … Showing signs of age.

Overall: Hobbs has emerged out of nowhere to become the best player in baseball. No other hitter can match his combination of power and average. … Very superstitious player, who uses the same bat. … Plays his best in front of women wearing white. … Doesn’t like to talk about mysterious past …

Movie question: Was Scotty Carson, the scout in “The Natural” who signed Roy Hobbs a good guy or a bad guy? On the one hand, Pop, the manager, gave Scotty the authority to sign any player “if he ever found anyone decent.” He found Roy Hobbs, signed him, and sent in a report that he was “one hell of a hitter.” That seems to indicate he was a good guy/good scout.

On the other hand, Scotty personally told The Judge, the owner, that he only signed Hobbs off of the Heeber Oilers to fail.

“Judge, I’m just doing what you asked. Hobbs is a joke, a nobody from nowhere.”

My opinion: Scotty was still loyal to Pop and he knew that Hobbs was going to be a great player. He was obviously handcuffed by The Judge – that’s why he was watching the Heeber Oilers to begin with – but a chief scout like Scotty Carson could not have missed the talent of Roy Hobbs. I think he signed Hobbs, sent him in to help Pop and then tried to cover up with this “Hobbs is a joke” line.

Baseball in Verse, Take 3

My first big national story happened in 1994, when I got an exclusive interview with Pete Rose five years after he was banished from baseball. it's funny to look back on it now and realize that not one word in it -- with the possible exception of the "Boca Raton" dateline -- is true. The strange part is that I can't help but like Pete Rose even though he spent some four hours lying to me on that day. Pete lying and hustling is part of the game. I think he belongs in the Hall of Fame too, though I don't expect him to ever get there.

I know
I'm a Hall of Famer.
I don't want to sound
arrogant.
I'm not
arrogant.
But I belong there.
I played the game
the way
it should be played.

Baseball obsessed me.
I don't regret it.
I had to be that way
to succeed.

I signed an agreement
which said I didn't
admit or deny that
I bet on baseball.

How does that mean
I bet on baseball?

There has been absolutely no evidence
that says
I bet on baseball.

They don't have anything.
And still they write that.

Now I see
they want me to admit
to betting on baseball.

They want me to lie
and admit to something
I didn't do.
I'm not going to do that.
I would never do that.

I like my life very much.

-- Pete Rose, August, 1994

The NL West with Rich Lederer

For more than a year now, I've been promising to write a column for Rich Lederer's tremendous site Baseball Analysts. I still have not done it. This is because of a series of comical coincidences -- really. I would start writing a column and then my computer would blow up. I would get a new computer and starting another column for Rich and then my dog would unplug the machine. This is particularly troubling because we don't have a dog.

The point is that Rich is such a good guy that when I asked HIM to write a preview for this site, he did it in something like 23 minutes. You might know Rich from his impassioned pleas to get Bert Blyleven inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Editor's note: The latest column I intended to write for Rich - but have not yet - involves a long and bizarre argument I had with a fellow sportswriter on the Hall of Fame merits of Blyleven vs. Jack Morris. It was pointed out somewhere in there that Blyleven had 33 more victories, 1,200 more strikeouts, 32 more shutouts, 67 more complete games, fewer walks despite many more innings, a much lower ERA -- 3.31 to 3.90 -- and much better ERA+, 118 vs. 105. Blyleven also a considerably better postseason ERA and a better World Series ERA. I realize these are "statistics" and all, but they seem fairly conclusive to me. Instead, the conversation took an odd turn when he pointed out rather loudly that Morris pitched Game 1 of the World Series for three different teams. He did not see this as a statistical oddity but instead as a Go Directly To Hall of Fame card. Do no pass Go. Do not collect $200. Do not mind the Bert Blyleven.

Rich is the son of an excellent sportswriter and a terrific writer himself. He's also a wonderful guy, and I will get that column written for him someday. Really.

First, 1-5, rank the NL West (adding a sentence on each team if you like).

1. Dodgers: The division is up for grabs but somebody has to win it.
2. Padres: They've won it two years in a row.
3. Diamondbacks: Moving in the right direction.
4. Rockies: Farm system is loaded.
5. Giants: Older and wiser, but certainly not stronger.

Who do you think is the best everyday player in the division?

Rafael Furcal. Can that be? Wow, this division really is weak.

Luis Gonzalez. A Dodger. Does this make sense to anybody?

Yes, it makes a lot of sense to Gonzalez and his banker. For the life of me, I don't understand the reluctance on the part of so many GMs to give their young players a chance. I'm not a big fan of mediocrity, and that's all you're gonna get with someone like Gonzalez at this point in his career.

True or false: Bud Selig will be in the stands the day Barry Bonds breaks the home-run record.

False. Bud Selig will be alphabetizing his pantry that evening.

Who do you think is the best starting pitcher in the division?

Brandon Webb or Jake Peavy. Pick your poison. Of course, Webb has a Cy Young Award on his mantle at home and Peavy doesn't. Brandon is an extreme groundball pitcher who has really improved his command the past two years. Jake is a strikeout artist and led the NL in ERA in 2004. I'll take two of each.

True or False: The Big Unit is big-time done.

False. The Big Unit will never again be what he once was, but I think he can still pitch. He's not as good as his 17-11 record last year, nor as bad as his 5.00 ERA. Although Johnson's fastball now sits in the low-90s and the slider has flattened out a bit, I believe the 43-year-old lefty (back surgery and all) can win 13 games and post an ERA just north of 4.

Who do you think is the best closer in the division?

Jonathan Broxton. Oh, wait, you mean actual closers? Trevor Hoffman.

Who do you think is the best manager in the division?

Bruce Bochy is the "chalk" answer. But I'm intrigued by Bud Black despite the fact that he has never managed a game in the majors. That said, I'm rooting for Clint Hurdle to do well because I'm hopeful of finding a sucker who might be interested in buying a dozen or so rookie cards from me.

You named your son, Joseph William -- Joe Willie -- and you're on the record saying that Namath was your hero growing up. What was it that drew you to him?

I was an impressionable 13-year-old kid when Namath beat the Colts in Super Bowl III after guaranteeing a victory despite being a 17-point underdog. Broadway Joe was one cool dude. I've always been attracted to players with a bit of charisma or flair. Pistol Pete is my all-time favorite basketball player. Jerry West was great, but I liked Elgin Baylor even better. You can have Jack Nicklaus, I'll take Arnold Palmer. But Namath, yeah, he's number one. What can I say? I know my son is thankful that my favorite player wasn't another QB by the name of Yelberton Abraham Tittle.

You've written beautifully about your father, an old sportswriter, and your relationship with him. Buck O'Neil used to talk about how there were more fathers and sons who have played Major League baseball than any other sport. I haven't done the numbers, but I would bet that's true. Why do you think that is?

That's a good question. I know that there have been more than 100 father-son combos in Major League Baseball. As to why baseball has had more than other sports, I can think of two reasons off the top of my head. Baseball has the longest history, and it has always had a greater number of players performing at the big league level than any sport other than football. So, in terms of the pure math involved, the odds favor baseball. But maybe there is another thing working in its favor. Baseball is more of a "learned" skill than the others. As a result, it's a lot easier for a father to teach a son how to catch, throw, and hit a baseball than it is to teach him to run fast, jump high, etc. Lastly, I would argue that the pace of the game also lends itself to fathers and sons sharing it, whether as players, fans, or both.

Jason Schmidt, Derek Lowe, Brad Penny, Randy Wolf ... hey, if this was 2003, that would be one heckuva foursome (at least in won-loss record -- they were a combined 64-32 that year). What's it worth in 2007?

About $42 million. Well, that may not be what they are worth but that's how much they'll cost the Dodgers this year. Brad Penny is the key here. The big right-hander needs to pitch more like he did in the first half (10-2, 2.91) than the second half (6-7, 6.25). There's a reason why he was the NL's starting pitcher in the All-Star game last summer. Penny was pumped up and was hitting 97, 98, and 99 on the gun. If healthy, he's a very solid #3. Schmidt is a legit ace and Lowe is a strong 2. I can't really fault Ned Colletti for taking a chance on Wolf for $8 million. That seems like a low-risk gamble to me. Add in Chad Billingsley or Hong-Chih Kuo as the fifth starter, and this is a pretty good rotation.

Greg Maddux. Why?

Why not? Sure, Maddux is now 12 years removed from winning four straight Cy Youngs, but he throws strikes and can still get batters out. Just don't let him throw more than 80 pitches. Three times through the lineup, max, because he's not apt to fool many hitters the fourth time around. I think he will be a good fit in that ballpark in San Diego.

True or false: Nomar Garciaparra will (at least) repeat his 2006 performance.

If we're talking about games played (122), then the answer is "true." However, if we're talking about performance, the answer is "false." He will not hit .300 or slug .500 this year, so help me James Loney.

OK, let's play a word association game. I'll say a word, and you say the first thing that comes to mind. The word is, hmm, let me think of a good one ... BLYLEVEN.

HALL OF FAMER.

The Rockies have become a very trendy team in the preseason, and I will admit that I'm a bit leery about trendy teams ever since Sports Illustrated put the Cleveland Indians on the cover in 1987 (and the Tribe went on to lose 100 games). You buying the hype?

Nah. At least not this year. Is Aaron Cook really the ace of that staff? I don't need to go on, do I?

What if someone told you many years ago that you would be the author of an ultra-popular baseball blog (assuming they could have explained what a "blog" was). Would you have believed them?

Well, I wouldn't believe them if they told me that now. I'm having fun. It's been a good outlet for me. It allows me the opportunity to combine my love for baseball, writing, and stats in a public forum that was never really available before. I've met dozens of great guys from coast to coast and even a few in places like Kansas City.

True or false: Todd Helton still has some good years left.

Hmmm . . . Good, yes. Great, no. Therefore, I guess my answer is "true." Helton is definitely on the backside of his career. His contract is a real albatross for the Rockies, but he will be traded at some point. It's just a matter of Colorado's ownership deciding on how much money they want to eat.

There are people out there who like Khalil Greene. I'm not necessarily one of those people -- I see a guy who doesn't get on base, doesn't stay healthy, doesn't seem to get to anything defensively and can't run. And yet, there are more "Greene" jerseys in San Diego than LaDainian Tomlinson jerseys. Straighten me out. Am I missing something.

Yes. The blond hair. Take a closer look, it's women wearing those jerseys. But, in fairness to Greene, he really isn't half bad. His advanced defensive metrics were actually pretty good last year and his offensive production has always been hampered by playing home games at Petco Park (.232/.301/.353 vs. .277/.341/.513 on the road). Greene's not the best shortstop in the league, but he's far from being the worst.

It looks as if the Giants will not start a single player under 30. Most of them -- Ray Durham? Omar Vizquel? Rich Aurilia? Dave Roberts? Barry? -- started their careers when the Dodgers were in Brooklyn. Is this some shrewd Moneyball maneuver to take advantage of market inequities by playing really old guys?

Hey, don't forget Ryan Klesko. The Giants signed the 35-year-old in December and the average age of the team went down. Look, there is nothing "shrewd" going on here. The Giants are on a treadmill, so to speak. For years, the organization has tried to win with an aging Barry Bonds and a bunch of 30-something doo opps while giving away high-draft picks and basically ignoring its farm system. Guess what? It's all coming home to roost now. If the Giants were a stock, I'd "short" them.

This is really a bad division, isn't it?

Yeah, it really is. There is some hope though. The NL Central was the worst division in baseball last year, yet the 83-78 Cardinals won the World Series. So you never know.

Your Dad was really one heck of a sportswriter. How aware of that were you when you were a kid, and how much do you think that affected your own love of sports?

Thanks, Joe. My Dad was a sportswriter before I was born. As such, sports have been a part of my life from day one. I can't even fathom a life without a heavy dose of sports, especially baseball. I guess you could say it's in my blood. Dad covered the Dodgers from their first year in Los Angeles in 1958 through 1968 and was Director of Public Relations and Promotions with the California Angels for the next decade. I like to call them the Koufax and Ryan years. If my brothers and I weren't playing baseball, we were at the Coliseum, Dodger Stadium, or Anaheim Stadium watching baseball. We were all very fortunate. Great times, great memories.

Baseball in Verse: Take 2

I'm on the road these days, which will explain why I have not gotten up the NL Central and NL West previews up just yet. They are coming. I promise. But I spent today in Humboldt, Kan., and Carthage, Mo., and tomorrow I'm in Elba, Neb., and Omaha. And the following day, I'm in Van Meter, IA. I suspect you, being a big baseball fan, can figure out more or less what I'm doing.

In the meantime, here is our next installment of Baseball in Verse to get you ready and fired up for the new season.

What's my opinion
of
Kingman's performance?

What the ####
do you think
is my opinion of it?

I think it was
#### ing
####

Put that in.
I don't ####

Opinion of his performance?
####
He beat us.
With
Three ####ing
home runs
What the #### do you mean?

What's my opinion
of
his performance?

How could you
ask me
a question like that?

What's my opinion
of
his peformance?

####!
He hit three home runs.
####!

I'm ####ing pissed off
to lose that
####ing game.
And you ask me ...

What's my opinion
of
his performance?

####!

-- Tommy Lasorda

Baseball in Verse, Take 1

In "The Soul of Baseball," we take a few wonderful quotes from Buck O'Neil and turn them into verse. It's not a new trick -- someone did an entire book of Phil Rizutto in verse -- but I think it is something that frankly isn't done enough. So as we approach Opening Day, we may offer a few baseball poems to inspire and get you ready for the season.

Well beat the drum
And hold the phone.
The sun came out today!

We're born again!
There's new grass on the field.
Ah-roundin' third. And headed for home.
It's a brown eyed
handsome
man

Anyone can understand the way I feel.

So put me in coach.
I'm ready to play.
Today.
Put me in coach.
I'm ready to play.
Today.
Look at me.
I can be. Centerfield.

Well I spent some time
in the Mudville nine.
Watchin'
it from the bench. You know I took
some lumps when the
Mighty Casey
struck out.

So say hey
Willie
Tell Ty Cobb
And Joe Dimah
Geo
Dont' say it ain't so
You know the time is now

Yeah. I got it. I got it.

Got a beat-up glove
a homemade bat
and a brand new pair of shoes
You know it's time to give this game a ride.
You got to hit
the ball
And touch
'em all
A moment in the sun
It's gone! And you can tell
that one
goodbye.

So put me in coach.
I'm ready to play.
Today.
Put me in coach.
I'm ready to play.
Today.
Look at me.
I can be. Centerfield.

- John Fogerty

AL East Redux with Seth Mnookin

Maybe this is a universal feeling. Probably not. But I have several good friends who I think are way too cool to hang out with me. They are so cool that, for instance, they don't use comically outdated words like "cool." Seth Mnookin is undoubtedly the coolest person willing to be seen in public with me. He lives in New York, wears all black, swears a lot, has appeared on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, hangs around with people like Sarah Vowell and has written for Spin, Slate and Salon -- the three S's of journalism cool. He's a Harvard grad, his work has appeared in Dave Eggers' Best American Non Required Reading 2002 and The New Yorker, and he started his career as a rock critic.

I'm embarrassed for HIM, when people see us in the same place.

But above all, Seth Mnookin is a huge Red Sox fan. His terrific insider account of the Red Sox, Feeding the Monster, made the New York Times best seller's list and will come out in paperback this year. We've already had Alex Belth preview the American League East, and he was fabulous, but he's a Yankees fan through and through. Here we give the Red Sox equal time. Plus, this way I can tell people again, "I got to exchange emails with Seth Mnookin. He likes me. He really likes me."

First, 1-5, predict the AL East race.

1. Boston
2. New York
3. Toronto
4. Tampa Bay
5. Baltimore

I'm flip-flopping the historic 1-2 and 4-5, only because I don't buy the Braves argument – they've won in the past, ergo, they'll win in the future – and at some point the Sox need to win the damn division. (If they don't, Murray Chass will never truly believe they won the World Series.) And Tampa Bay is, at least, interesting. The Orioles simply suck ass.

Who do you think is the best player in the division?

David Ortiz. There's a good argument to be made that the best player should also play in the field, but that argument doesn't hold up here. Pedro was the best player in the league in the 1999-2000 era, and Papi is now. He's the most fun to watch, he makes his teammates better, he changes the complexion of every game when the Red Sox enter the 8th or 9th down a couple of runs. Someday we'll look back and realize that, over the last four years, we all witnessed something truly incredible.

True of false: Derek Jeter is a lousy defensive shortstop.

True. He's perfected the Nomar move: make an average play look remarkably difficult, thereby drawing oohs and aahs from fans and ignorant broadcasters alike. He's not as bad as some think – he's far from the worst shortstop in baseball – but he's in the lower half.

For your first book, Hard News, you appeared on Bill O'Reilly and on Jon Stewart's show. Which one was more fun?

That's such a gimme. C'mon. Stewart. He'd actually read the book; he wanted to engage on a real level; he repeatedly called (former New York Times editor) Howell Raines a dick on the air. O'Reilly really is more of a kabuki theater experience: you're having a conversation, the red light comes on, and all of a sudden there's lots of yelling and sudden movements. It wouldn't be a good show for an epileptic to do.

Who is the best starting pitcher in the division?

Chien-Ming Wang. (Doesn't it sound crazy to say that?) Nah, just kidding. Right now it's kind of a toss-up. Roy Halladay would be if he stayed healthy. I'm interested in what happens with Daisuke-san, although even in the best of circumstances he's not going to be the best pitcher in the division. Outside of that, who knows? Phillip Hughes could come up and blow everyone away. Scott Kazmir would pull it all together. We could have a Papelbon-esque emergence somewhere. One thing I know: it won't happen in Baltimore. Because Baltimore sucks.

Who is the best closer in the division?

Mariano. He's older, he's slowing down, but he's still the best. This is assuming Papelbon stays in the rotation.

You started out as a rock critic. A friend of mine who works for Warner says Linkin Park will have the No. 1 selling album in America this year. This depressed me. The question: Is there a great rock and roll band left in the world?

Oh, sure. There are a lot. Radiohead's a really great rock band – when I saw them in Madison Square Garden a couple of years ago, I was blown away. Wilco is occasionally a great band. The Arcade Fire is on its way to being a great band. U2 is a great rock band. And there are lots of small and smallish bands that I think are great; it just depends if you're defining the term as someone/something that can blow away 20,000 people at a time.
Remember, too – and I'm saying this only because I hate to see you depressed – there have been lots of awful bands that have had the best selling album of any given year: The Saturday Night Fever, The Bodyguard Soundtrack, albums by REO Speedwagon, Bobby Brown, and Ace of Base.

Editor's note: I can't get into Wilco. And I feel like I'm a traitor to my Generation X or something. I've had dozens of people try to get me to appreciate Wilco. My friend Brian, the Warner Music guy, has given me something like 493 free Wilco discs, others have played Wilco in the car when we've been together and slowly explained to me why Wilco is great. I don't deny Wilco's greatness. I really don't. I just can't get into the music. I know it's me.

Two part question. Do you: a.) Believe in clutch hitting? and b.) Believe that Big Papi is a bonafide clutch hitter?

A. Yes.
B. Yes.
I don't see how there's any way you could have watched baseball for the past half-decade and not believe that Ortiz rises to the occasion; ergo, clutch hitting exists. As Bill James told me in Feeding the Monster (available for just $17.16 from Amazon! Cheap!), just because we don't know how to quantify it doesn't mean it doesn't exist.

The Yankees pitching staff features 39-year-old Mike Mussina, 37-year-old Mariano Rivera, and Andy Pettite, who is 498. While the Yankees will still have the youngest pitching staff in New York, does the Yankees staff give you hope?

Hope for the Red Sox? The Yankees also have Phillip Hughes. The Sox have 40-year old Schilling and the Depression-era Wakefield/Timlin duo. Either rotation could end up clicking – Pavano could have a good year (unlikely, but theoretically possible); Wang could replicate '06; Hughes could come up and dominate circa Papelbon '06. And in Boston, Beckett could get electro-shock treatment and cure him of the misconception that he can blow his fastball by AL hitters, Dice-K could gyro his way to a 40-0 record, Papelbon could make the transition to starter and finish the year with a .03 ERA. Or it could all go to shit. Who knows?

True or False: The Red Sox will rue the day they signed J.D. Drew.

True. That day will be on April 1, 2010.

You are one of the few people who have had the good fortune of talking with Stephen Glass, Jayson Blair and James Frey: the Elvis, Chuck Berry and Little Richard of untrue journalism. Give us a scouting report on each:

Actually, I didn't really talk to Frey. (Or I did, but only when I mistook him for someone else at a charity auction. He's short. And really pathetic.) Jayson is, legitimately, a manic loon; Stephen is, legitimately, smart and also seemed to me to be aware of what he'd done, although I found his decision to write a "novel" instead of dealing with the people he'd screwed over a bit odd. Or at least indicative of his not fully accepting the consequences of what happened.

What are your favorite and least favorite Yankees-Red Sox moments?

I'm going to limit this to the last decade. Favorites: the '04 playoffs, the two '04 July games (the brawl and the Jeter-into-the-stands), the '03 playoffs, the '99 Pedro 17-K game in Yankee stadium. Least favorite: the opening series of the '06 regular season (the Sheffield into the right-field stands series) and the final series of the '06 regular season. The first series was just ugly; the final one clearly signaled the jump-the-shark moment of the rivalry. (Incidentally, I was at all of these games/moments save for the Fenway July '04 match and the '03 playoffs.)

Toronto. Do you even take the Blue Jays seriously anymore as a fan?

Well, sure. J.P.'s a smart guy and has the potential to be a really good GM. They've beaten up on the Sox, and they have Roy Halladay. I didn't get their pitching signings last off-season, although with the Meche's of the world getting $300 mil a year, the BJ/Burnett deals do look pretty good.

You graduated from Harvard with a degree in the history of science. What is that? What in the heck did you think you were going to do with that? And how in the heck did you use that to write your terrific insider Red Sox book?

It's a major I fell into after I'd signed up for at least four or five others: History of Literature; English; Anthropology; Philosophy. And History of Science is (or was) the closest you could come to a kind of classic liberal arts education: I got to take sciences and history and philosophy and it all counted. But it didn't help much with the Sox book. Or anything I've done professionally. One day, I'll use my thesis – on 19th-century, epileptic axe murderers – in some way. I'm determined.

Baltimore. Tampa Bay. Any interesting thoughts on these poor shlubs?

Tampa Bay: It's criminal that a team can be paid more in revenue sharing than they spend on player payroll. Lucchino once told me they were likely spending money on other things, like player development. Fine. But good god, man, shouldn't there be some kind of stipulation that teams use the money they get to sign players that might make the team at least semi-competitive?
Baltimore: The Orioles traded for Kris Benson. They deserve whatever they get.

Many people have said that the Red Sox are the new Yankees ... they just go out and spend money and buy players. Does this in any way cut into your enjoyment?

Actually, yes. If I was the god of all things baseball, I'd have a salary floor and a salary ceiling. It'd make the game more interesting.

Matsuzaka. You buying the hype?

If you bought the hype, you'd be saying he's a combination of Cy Young, Sandy Koufax, and Pedro … except better. So no. But, I think he's an incredibly good pitcher with the potential to be great.

What is the best baseball movie?

"Air Bud." Or "Baseketball."

Slate or Salon ... which is cooler?

I have more of a history with Salon, but these days I write more for Slate. Which is my way of saying I'm gonna wuss out on this one.

You traveled around New England selling your book. What was the most fun thing you did during your Red Sox-Yankees book promotion?

Lobster rolls in Maine. Duh.

I asked Alex Belth if that thing Yankee fans do -- where they call out each player's name until recognized -- is cool or unbearably obnoxious. What do you think?

It's not so much obnoxious as stupid and childish. It's what a three-year-old would do if he were trying to get his dad's attention while he was at work.

True or false: Curt Schilling will be in the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Tough call. I'd vote for him. He's the best postseason pitcher of his generation, and arguably the best postseason pitcher ever. That counts for at least as much as having the good fortune to be part of a double-play combination that was made into a catchy ditty. His ERA+ was pretty much always above 120, his WHIP was below 1.2 for six straight years, and he has more than 200 wins and 3,000 Ks. He was killed by those years in Philly, though, and too many of the writers who vote on the HOF (Hi, Murray!) are boobs who seem to be proud of their ignorance.

Thanks! You've been great! Don't forget to tip your waitress!