It's like being 10 again ...

OK, I promised to describe one of the great sporting moments of my life. And believe it or not, this happened BEFORE the brilliant and one of my all-time favorite Web sites Deadspin called me "Estimable." My cup runneth over.

But, with no offense to the great Deadspin folks, this is even bigger to me. This, frankly, is as big as it gets. You know, sometimes when I speak to kids at schools and it becomes apparent that boredom has set in (this often can take as long as 49 seconds), I will throw out a little challenge. I will say, "Name your favorite sports star." And then I tell them if I have interviewed that person.

It's a trick question because, honestly, I've interviewed just about everybody they might mention. This is not bragging (well, OK, yeah it is, but that's not really my point here) ... it's just that when you are in the business or a while, you will one way or another come across most of the the biggest sports stars. I interviewed Michael Jordan when he just got out of college, for instance. I talked to Jeff Gordon as part of some sort of charity event. I sat next to Mickey Mantle at a celebrity baseball game. I went on a Negro Leagues Museum tour with Albert Pujols. I chatted with LeBron James at the Olympics. I have on many occasions stood around in a group and interviewed Tiger Woods. I spent a day with Hank Aaron. And so on.

Anyway, these brushes with greatness impress the kids way out of proportion -- I don't KNOW any of these athletes. The closest I've probably ever come to a truly great athlete involved the weekly chess matches I used to play against Priest Holmes. And I don't know him either ... For instance, I have absolutely no idea what is his motivation to come back to the Chiefs. Apparently he saw it in a dream. I wouldn't have guessed that.

Point is, meeting these great stars SOUNDS better to kids than it really is. I'm not being callous about it -- it still thrills me to watch Peyton Manning throw the football or to watch Barry Bonds hit or to see Roger Federer hit cross court-winners. It's just that meeting these people ... well, it's not bad, but it's just not as cool as I thought it would be when I was 10.

HOWEVER ... I was 10 once. And I had a hero. I have mentioned him on this site before. People sometimes seem to think I'm joking when I say that my hero was Cleveland Indians second baseman Duane Kuiper -- possibly because Kuiper hit only one home run in his career. But I am not joking. Duane Kuiper played second base. I wanted to play second base. Duane Kuiper dove for ground balls. I dove for ground balls. Duane Kuiper tried to bunt and slap his way on base; that's what I did too. I would have had a Kuiper poster on my wall, but they didn't make them. So I cut out pictures from the newspaper, put those on my wall. He was everything. I once tried to rank my all-time sports heroes ... as I do it now I would say the list looks like this:

1. Duane Kuiper
2. Brian Sipe
3. Buddy Bell
4. Ozzie Newsome
5. Earl Campbell (my only true non-Cleveland athlete crush as a kid)

Bernie Kosar and Cory Snyder would be on there too, but by the time I liked Bernie and Cory I was already in high school and college and should have known better.

Anyway, I was aware in a general way that Duane is now an announcer for the San Francisco Giants. But when I actually went to San Francisco to cover this Bonds chase, I never really put it together that I could meet my hero. It just didn't occur to me. At some point, seven or eight days in, my friend Mike Vaccaro said, "You should go over to the booth and meet Duane Kuiper."

And I thought: "Holy shmoly! [I often think using phrases like "Holy Shmoly!" and "Shazam!"] I really should."

And then I got nervous. Crazy, right? But this guy was my hero. This wasn't like going up to Johan Santana and asking him what pitch he threw in the seventh. That's work. This was a whole different thing. This was about meeting a childhood hero (I had the same inhibition when I finally met Ozzie Newsome. I really couldn't allow myself to feel that when Buddy Bell became manager of the Royals). Then I thought, "Hey, maybe I could do a column on Duane Kuiper. You know, here's the opposite of Barry Bonds, the guy who hit only one home run. And he's the one calling the games. That's great. That's how I'll do this."

So, of course, the next day Jayson Stark did that very column. So now I couldn't do that.

Sigh. I left San Francisco without going up to my hero Duane Kuiper. I'm a wimp, OK? I always was a wimp. That's one of the reasons why I got into this crazy journalism racket in the first place -- to give me a REASON to talk to people. I left San Francisco Monday morning, flew all day, landed in New York. I went to my hotel room, and checked my email.

You know what's coming, right? Yeah. There was an email from Duane Kuiper. It read like so (I don't think he'd mind me printing it):

Joe

You spent 9 days following Barry Bonds and not one time did you try to look me up. I have heard thru the grapevine that you were a Duane Kuiper fan growing up as a kid, if that story is really true...I would have loved to have met you. If you are headed to L.A. or San Diego please bother me, there's a short list of kids who idolized me. I'd like to meet them all.

Duane Kuiper

What can I say, folks? My career is made. My time as a sportswriter has not been in vain. Duane Kuiper emailed me. It's like being 10 again ...

Strangers on a plane

Editor's note: Here's a non-sports blog that I intended to post over the weekend but did not. The "maybe the coolest sports moment of my life" blog is coming at some point soon.

So I had this moment on an airplane. I was sitting in the front row window seat, bulkhead, when I noticed that there was this mother next to me with her two young children. She was trying to calm down the younger one; he was probably 2. He was giving her the look I’ve seen plenty of times with my own 2-year-old. He was not happy.

It amazes me now, looking back, how oblivious I would have been to this scene five or six years ago. I guess I always saw myself as someone who liked kids, the goofy friend of Dad’s who could juggle or make a quarter disappear and then pull it out of your ear. But it really does change when you have kids of your own; you are simply more attuned to that world, to the tenuous moods, to the extreme inconveniences, to the small kindnesses. You notice everything.

A few weeks ago, for instance, the Royals had to cancel their Fourth of July fireworks spectacular for technical reasons. Well, I got dozens of emails from angry fans who had waited all night with their kids for the show. I’m sure that a few years ago, I would have appreciated their anger, but it would not have moved me much. But now, having spent the THIRD of July chasing around my two daughters for three-plus hours just so they could see the fireworks show, well, I can tell you that if they had canceled that show I would have been looking for a lawyer.

ANYWAY, back to the plane, a man came up and tried to settle down the boy. It became apparent he was the father. He was talking to the boy, mussing his hair, holding him close, all those Dad things. Again, I may not have even noticed before, but I turned to him and said, “Excuse me, are you all together?”

“Yes,” he said. He did not seem to want to look at me.

“Well, you guys should be flying together. Where are you sitting?”

“Oh, you don’t want to do that,” he said. “I’m in a middle seat in the back.”

This was a pretty long flight – Milwaukee to San Francisco. I’m not trying to make myself into a hero here because, dammit, I really didn’t want to go back to some middle seat. In fact, I had stood in line to switch out of a middle seat in the first place. But what are you going to do? Separate a family on a four-hour flight? Come on. So I said, “Oh, that’s OK, I’ll go back.”

Well, you would have thought I had given this man my very own canteen in the Sahara. He was beyond thankful. He was – well, what’s a good word for “beyond thankful?” He was Bethankful. I honestly thought he was going to cry. He had not even considered asking me to move back numerous rows to sit in a middle seat … and I had volunteered. More than that, I had done it over his objections. Hey, I’m a good guy! It was as if I had given him reason to believe in mankind again. And for that moment walking back to the middle seat, I was the hero of the plane. People were slapping me on the back. The stewardesses offered me free drinks. I was Gandhi in India. I was Patton in Paris.

Of course, it did suck to sit in the middle seat. My good intentions didn’t prevent the idiot in front of me from reclining his seat all the way back into my spleen.

When the plane landed, I walked off and a different guy walked over to me.

He said: “You should be glad that you switched out of that seat. That kid was screaming the whole flight.”

Neutrality

Editor's note: Spent all day on a plane Monday getting from San Francisco to New York, so I didn't get to add to my world-record number of July posts. But I have a couple more posts today, including one a little later on about landing in New York and receiving one of the greatest sports thrills of my life. No kidding. It might be THE greatest sports thrill of my life. I'll tell you about it in a bit. In the meantime, here's some Blyleven/Santana stuff.

If I could take one indie baseball statistic and inject it into the popular culture, it might be Lee Sinins’ Neutral Wins and Neutral Losses. It also might not be. I’m going to be brutally honest with you here: I really haven’t put a whole lot of thought into this whole “what indie baseball stat would you inject into the popular culture” question.

But I do like Neutral Wins and Neutral Losses. These represent, as I understand it, a projection for the number of wins and losses a pitcher would have if given average run support. It’s an entirely imagined statistic – it doesn’t reflect what actually happened. Obviously you are giving pitchers wins when his team did not win, losses when his team did not lose, etc. But to me, it’s still telling.

I think of these a little bit like I think of those percentages they show for poker hands. Let’s say you’re playing Texas Hold ‘em, and you have a pair of aces. Well you go all in and someone calls you – even though (as we find out) he has the worst hand you can have. He has a 7 and a 2 off-suit. The odds will say that you have an 88 percent chance of winning the hand. Unfortunately, luck plays a large role in poker, which means that the moron who called you with a 7 and a 2 still has a 12 percent chance of winning, which means about one out of eight times he will beat your aces with his stupid 7 and 2..

If this happens to be one of those times, well, that 88 percent chance you had doesn’t mean squat. It’s not REALITY. You lost. Your money’s gone. But when reviewing what happened (as you would, again and again, over drinks with your buddies) that 88 percent is VERY telling. You did the right thing. You SHOULD have won. He SHOULD have lost. I’m not sure this example really explains what I’m trying to say, but as you know I like to bring up poker when I can, you know, since I am the One Random June Monday Morning Poker Champion of Tunica, Miss.

Anyway, this thought about Neutral Wins comes up because, as a couple of you mentioned comments, Johan Santana is having a great year. He is first in the league in hits allowed per nine, first in WHIP, first in shutouts (well tied for first … he has one), second in strikeouts, fourth in ERA, and he’s been his old amazing self lately (the last six weeks his ERA is 2.48, and the league is hitting .198 against him). I mean this is another dominant season for Santana. He’s still, I think, the best pitcher in the game.

Unfortunately, there are those who say he’s having an “off-year.” Why? His record is 11-8. That’s it. That’s why. Everybody by now understands, or should understand, that won-loss record is, well, not entirely meaningless (as Bill James says, if you have a choice between a guy who is 18-11 and a guy who is 12-14, and that’s the only information you have, you would always take the 18-11 pitcher) but certainly it can be very misleading. Everybody also knows the Twins can’t score runs. And yet, even while people understand that, they cannot get over a pitcher’s record. They just can’t.

And that’s why it would be great if people were just aware of neutral wins and neutral losses. It fills some gaps. Santana leads all of baseball with 13 neutral wins. His “neutral record” of 13-6 would make him the leading Cy Young candidate, which is exactly what he should be. Instead, the voters will look at won-loss record (they can’t help themselves) and choose someone inferior like C.C. Sabathia, who (though he is having a good year) isn’t close to Santana.

Because it has been a while since I’ve done a long blog (and also I’m on the long plane ride from San Francisco to New York) , I have listed here a few underappreciated years in baseball history (well, since 1920) using Neutral Wins and Neutral losses.

Dave Roberts, 1971
Actual record: 14-17
Neutral record: 22-9

Obviously, this is not the Dave Roberts who I’ve been watching play center field like a tourist stumbling through Chinatown looking vainly for the Hang Ah Tea Room. Holy cow. I have not broken down center fielders yet defensively, but I have to predict based entirely on visual evidence that Roberts will not score well. I mean, he’s fast and he seems like a generally cool guy and all that. But he also seems to be on an eight-second delay whenever the ball’s hit.

No, this Dave Roberts was a pitcher who in his fairly long career had a losing record, a below league average ERA and one magical season. Unfortunately, few realized just how magical it was because he had that losing record. But – get this – in 1971, Dave Roberts lost EIGHT GAMES where he pitched seven innings or more and allowed two earned runs or less. Those aren’t no decisions … I’m talking about eight games he lost pitching that well. He also had three no-decisions, including one where he went nine innings and gave up one run and another when he went eight innings and gave up one run.

Roberts did get a little Cy Young love because of his 2.10 ERA that year – he finished sixth in the voting, though he pitched better than three of the pitchers ahead of him. It’s hard to say he deserved to win the Cy Young Award, though. Ferguson Jenkins (neutral record, 24-13, 2.77 ERA) won the Cy Young that probably should gone to Tom Seaver (neutral record 23-7, 1.76 ERA).

Bert Blyleven, 1973
Actual record: 20-17
Neutral record: 26-11

We’ll have a lot of Blyleven in here for. He would be in the Hall of Fame, I believe, if people fully appreciated just how good he was in his prime. He finished an absurd seventh in the Cy Young voting in ‘73, though he led all of baseball with those 26 neutral wins and was second in the league in both ERA and strikeouts. Jim Palmer, who won the Cy Young, actually had one hell of a year too. And John Hiller had one of the great relief pitching seasons in baseball history – maybe the best. He won 10 games, saved 38, pitched 125 innings, had a 1.44 ERA. Still Blyleven was sensational.

The point is that if voters understood and appreciated that Blyleven was more than just some guy who hung around for a long time, if they understood and appreciated that he had a prime that was as good as most pitchers in the Hall of Fame, I think he would be there himself.

Randy Johnson, 2004
Actual record: 16-14
Neutral record: 22-8

Randy Johnson finished second in the Cy Young voting to Roger Clemens this year, and I’m guessing that this was entirely and completely because of their won-loss records. Johnson was 16-14. Clemens was 18-4. But if voters had looked at Neutral Wins and Losses along with other statistics, it would blatantly obvious who had the better year.

Johnson: 22-8, 2.60 ERA, 290 strikeouts, 50 Runs Saved Against Average
Clemens: 15-7, 2.98, 218 strikeouts, 32 Runs Saves Against Average

This might be the clearest example in recent years where the significantly better pitcher was snubbed simply because of his won-loss record. Apparently not enough people stopped to realize that OF COURSE their won-loss records were different. Johnson played on a 111-loss Arizona team, Clemens played on a 92-win Houston team.

Sam McDowell, 1968
Actual record: 15-14
Neutral record: 21-8

From 1968 to 1971, McDowell’s records were as follows:
15-14, 1.81 ERA
18-14, 2.94 ERA
20-12, 2.92 ERA
13-17, 3.40 ERA

And his neutral records were as follows:
21-8, 1.81 ERA
18-14, 2.94 ERA
22-10, 2.92 ERA
16-14, 3.40 ERA

So, in reality McDowell was nine games over .500, which is nothing special. And people called him a “hard luck” pitcher, but people rarely mean that as a compliment. Generally, hard luck pitchers are viewed as flawed – as if low-scoring teammates are partly their fault, as if they should somehow DO something about losing 2-1 and 3-2 games, as if they somehow lack intestinal fortitude because they can’t their fastball with a little more life and get their curveball to drop an extra two inches when their own hitters can’t score.

But McDowell’s neutral record over that time period was 31 games over .500, which is very special – only Fergie Jenkins, Tom Seaver, Bob Gibson and Gaylord Perry were better over those four years.

Gaylord Perry, 1972
Actual record: 24-16
Neutral record: 29-11

Perry won the Cy Young Award this year – so it’s hard to say that he was underrated. However, he was. By Neutral Wins, this is the best pitching season by anybody in the last 50 years.

Most neutral wins since 1957

1. Gaylord Perry, 1972, 29
2. Sandy Koufax, 1966, 28
3. Steve Carlton, 1972, 27
4. Bert Blyleven, 1973, 26
(tie) Wilbur Wood, 1971, 26
(tie) Denny McLain, 1968, 26
(tie) Bob Gibson, 1968, 26
(tie) Juan Marichal, 1965, 26

So there you have it, some of the acknowledged greatest years in pitching history – there’s Gibson ’68, Koufax ’66, McLain ’68, Marichal ’65. And Gaylord’s year – my first baseball memory is of going to see Perry pitch this year – was as good or better than any of them. You will notice again, Blyleven fans, that his 1973 season is up there too. We’ll come back to Blyleven again.

Jack Morris, 1992
Actual record: 21-6
Neutral record: 13-14

I have become, among friends, something of a crank when it comes to Jack Morris and the Hall of Fame. I can’t help it. I simply cannot accept the myth that has built around this guy. The myth goes that Morris was a gamer, a winner, the kind of pitching warrior who would allow two runs when his team scored three and give up seven runs when his team scored eight, a warrior, etc. Morris already had that reputation when he pitched that amazing Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, and this performance forged the myth in steel (much in the same way that the “Derek Jeter is always in the right place” myth became truth the day Jeremy Giambi didn’t slide”).

There have been studies that show this, “Jack Morris gave up two when you scored three” theory to be, in the delicate British phrase, complete crap. But the myth goes on. Morris never had a sub-3.00 ERA. He never had a season with 20 neutral wins. It’s so weird that so many of the voters who deny Blyleven because they believe he was never a great pitcher are willing to support Jack Morris, who really never was.

And now we’ll look at a few careers:

-- Bob Friend
Career record: 197-230
Neutral record: 228-199

I’m telling you right now that Bob Friend was every bit as good and perhaps a better pitcher than Jack Morris.

-- Bert Blyleven
Career record: 287-250
Neutral record: 313-224

Since the deadball era ended, there have been 10 pitchers with 300-plus neutral wins. All of them are in the Hall of Fame (or will be soon – Clemens and Maddux are on the list) except for Blyleven.

From 1970-1977, Blyleven’s neutral record is better than his actual record every single season. I think Bill James once did a little study to see if Blyleven’s own pitching tendencies were at least partly responsible for the bad luck, and he came out of the study with a strong feeling, if I remember correctly, that it was “not entirely impossible.” So there you go. Still, the numbers are striking.

Blyleven’s actual records:
1970: 10-9
1971: 16-15
1972: 17-17
1973: 20-17
1974: 17-17
1975: 15-10
1976: 13-16
1977: 14-12

Over this eight-year stretch, he saved an astounding 233 runs against average (third for that time period behind Tom Seaver and Jim Palmer – and not to beat this dead Morris again, but Jack Morris saved 78 runs in his ENTIRE CAREER). He was just nine games over .500

His neutral records tell a very different story:
1970: 11-8
1971: 19-12
1972: 20-14
1973: 26-11
1974: 22-12
1975: 16-9
1976: 12-8
1977: 17-12

OK, that’s 57 games over .500. He was a great pitcher! He really was! Dammit, listen to me voters!

-- Jack Morris
Career record: 254-186
Neutral record: 232-208

Well, you knew that was coming. Of course Morris-heads will use this to say it PROVES their point – see how many more games he won than he should have? He was a gamer! A warrior! You can’t beat these guys.

-- Wilbur Wood
Career record: 164-156
Neutral record: 185-135

Wood is the darling of neutral wins and losses. From 1968-1975, Wood had 159 neutral wins, behind only Gaylord Perry and Fergie Jenkins. In there he had a 26-neutral win season and two 25 neutral win seasons.

-- Lew Burdette
Career record: 203-144
Neutral record: 173-174

According to Sinins’ encyclopedia, Burdette won 200 games despite allowing 30 more runs in his career than the average pitcher.

Brilliant reader updates: One of you talked about Orel Hershiser 1988 vs. Orel Hershiser 1989. Very shrewd comparison.

Hershiser in 1988
Real record: 23-8, 2.26 ERA.
Neutral stats: 22-9 40 Runs Saves Against Average

Hershiser in 1989
Real record: 15-15, 2.31 ERA
Neutral stats: 19-11, 25 Runs Saves Against Average.

He was better in 1988, but the difference is not as wide as appears by the win-loss record.

And our resident Cubbie asked about Fergie Jenkins. I'm surprised but his stats are not significantly altered in the neutral environment. From 1967-73, he went 141-100 for the Cubs, and won 20 or more six of the seven years.

Going neutral, he went 146-95. He had 20 neutral wins or more five of the seven years.

Over his career, Jenkins actual record was 284-226. His neutral record was 291-219.

I Can't Wait For Us To Be Crappy Again

Today’s absurd comment doesn’t come from a manager but instead from Giants’ managing general partner Peter Magowan. On Friday, Magowan said what many people are feeling – he will be happy when this Barry Bonds chase ends. As far as I can tell, every human being on the planet feels this way and also dolphins.

(It’s true: A recently recorded voice sample of an Indo-Pacific Bottlenose Dolphin was translated to roughly mean, “Well, I don’t care what anybody says, I think there should be an asterisk. The guy cheated, plain and simple. What do you think about this? We’re going to take your calls after the break but first, do you need new gutters? I had my gutters redone by GutterPro, and I’m thrilled.” This proved to scientists that dolphins may not be as intelligent as we had once hoped).

ANYWAY, while Magowan’s overall thought – “I can’t wait until it’s over” – matches up with the rest of civilization, his reasoning is a bit, let’s lovingly call it, “insane.” Here’s the full quote:

“I can’t wait until it’s over. I think we’ll start winning more consistently when this is behind us.”

OK, there are two things to be said about this quote.

1. It’s probably not quite accurate. The Bonds really began in earnest a week ago Friday in Milwaukee, and since then the Giants have won 5 of 8. I realize this is not exactly the Giants Win the Pennant news, but for this Giants team 5 victories in 8 games is something close to a modern miracle. They’re not going to win MORE consistently than that with this team unless meteors hit 24 or 25 major American cities.

Caveat: It is possible, I realize, that Magowan might consider this whole dismal Giants year part of the “Bonds chase,” in which case he should just flog himself because he knew what was coming when he signed the guy.

2. It’s not impossible – improbable yes, but not impossible – that Peter Magowan is unaware that this Giants team is a total and utter disaster. So let me be the one to break the news. I mean, have you looked at this team? They have 35-year-old Dave Roberts with his .327 on-base percentage in the leadoff spot – and he’s signed for another year. They’ve got 35-year-old Rich Aurelia with his .290 on-base percentage signed for another year. They’ve got Randy Winn on some ridiculously pricey contract, they’ve got Ray Durham signed through 2008 (I believe), every single position player starter is 32 or older and the Barry Zito contract might be the worst in baseball history. And this guy is worried about the Barry Bonds homer distraction?

There are only two good things about these Giants. One, they have some young pitchers – Matt Cain, Tim Lincecum, Noah Lowry - who are pretty fun to watch. And two, they have some guys you haven’t heard from in a while. It’s sort of like coming upon an old-timer’s game. You’ll be going along, and suddenly you will see someone and say, “Hey, there’s Ryan Klesko! I haven't thought about him in years. Good for him, he’s still playing the game. Good for him. Hey, there’s Russ Ortiz. That’s nice that he’s still trying …”

Updated: The Giants won again Saturday night with a comeback in the bottom of the ninth. That's six wins in nine games. The Barry thing is definitely helping this team, not hurting it.

Bloggy Friday: History

Now, I do not consider myself the type of person who downplays history. I embrace history. Take the Civil War. I embrace that. Also the Smoot-Hawley Tariff. I call that embraceable. And don't get me started on Charlemagne.

However, I have to admit I was a bit underwhelmed by what everyone else seemed to deem a historic moment Friday night in San Francisco. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I grow cynical in my old age (I was 40 when I arrived in San Francisco, by the way. As I write this blog, I am 94). Friday night, Mark Sweeney walked up to the plate in the sixth inning to face Matt LIndstrom, and there was definitely a sense that something magical was about to happen. I am not kidding here. At all. The crowd was loud. The television announcers were excited. The Giants teammates were on the top step of the dugout.

Sweeney took a ball and then he fouled one off. I must admit that in Kansas City, I've always known Mark Sweeney only for being the guy whose name sounds like Mike Sweeney, this being the only known similarity between the two men (other than, you know, the carbon-based life form similarity). Mike hit right-handed. Mark really could not hit left-handed. Mike was California. Mark was from Maine. Mark somehow kept ending up on playoff teams. Mike, er, did not.

I guess there was a whole thing in Sports Illustrated about how they get each other's mail or something. Wacky.

Anyway, Mark took a strike, then a ball, fouled one off, took another ball, and then it happened, the moment, history, Mark Sweeney rifled a single to center field. Bedlam. Everyone stood and applauded. Hugs were exchanged. Tears were shed. The ball was taken out of play. Mark Sweeney lifted his helmet to acknowledge the moment. When the inning ended he walked into the dugout where teammates waited to embrace him (see, embracing history). Omar Vizquel actually kissed him.

I'm not kidding about any of this. Really.

I assume you know why all this happened for Mark Sweeney, but I'm holding it back anyway so I can unveil it in italics:

Mark Sweeney moved alone into second-place on the all-time pinch-hit list.

That's right. With that single, Sweeney had 151 pinch hits, moving him ahead of Manny Mota. He's now in second place all alone. It's all his. Joy. Hugs. Triumphant music. The whole works.

Now maybe it's because this all happened on the same night that Barry Bonds hit his 754th home run, but I guess I'm not as impressed by this historic moment as perhaps I should be. I mean, I do appreciate the extra cheering and all that; hey, it's a nice moment. But am I wrong here -- shouldn't they save the hugs, the taking the ball out of circulation, the tears for the guy who moves into FIRST PLACE on the all-time pinch-hit list?

And here's the thing ... he's not even CLOSE to the all-time record.

Most pinch-hits in a career:
1. Lenny Harris, 212
2. Mark Sweeney, 151
3. Manny Mota, 150
4. Smoky Burgess, 145
5. Greg Gross, 143

Lenny Harris is the Cy Young of pinch-hits. Sweeney is 37 (I originally thought he was 34, but I must have misread his birthdate on Baseball Reerence). so he's almost certainly not going to break the record. But if he does, well I can only imagine what will be the scene that night. I just hope if it happens, the Commissioner is in attendance.

Bloggy Friday: An Offer You Can't Refuse

OK, we’re going to try something bold, something a little crazy, something that I will undoubtedly regret even before I get to the end of this sentence. Yep. I already regret it.

But it is true that I have gathered fielding info on every starter in baseball. It isn’t something I set out to do … it’s just as a voter for the Fielding Bible, I’ve gotten quite a bit of info. I have the typical fielding stats, of course – range factor, zone rating, etc. But beyond that, I have the intensive Fielding Bible stats, which I will use to rank the fielders but I will not reveal right now (I only have them for voting purposes). I also have various mini-scouting reports from people I know who are scouts/reporters/executives/players around baseball.

So, at the end of this ranking-the-best-fielder series I’m doing (I’m estimating that it should end sometime in the middle of next week, after my appearance on the Leonard Lopate Show), I’m thinking about doing something for you, the brilliant reader, a gift in appreciation of you buying the book. I will rank any player you ask about, based on the numbers I have, the scouting reports I have and my own personal beliefs.

Here’s how I was thinking of doing this (and please feel free to offer a different suggestion): I will create up a blog item called, “Rank your favorite fielder here.” And then you can post you comments – “How would you rank J.J. Hardy?” “Where does Derrek Lee rank?” “How could you ignore Alex Gonzalez?” And so on.

And I’ll do the best I can to answer based on what I know and what I’ve got.

In exchange, of course, you stragglers have to buy the book. Heck, buy two, they’re small. Let’s get that Amazon number into triple digits.

Bloggy Friday: A Book Signing Offer

First off, I want to thank those of you in the Bay Area (and in Texas, Detroit, Chicago, Boston, et. al) who left comments or sent emails requesting a book signing. Unfortunately, I’m not the one who can set up such things. That’s up to the good folks at William Morrow, and right now they rightfully might be a little more concerned about book signings for the new Marley & Me children’s book. That lovable Marley!

I can tell you I will be in New York on Wednesday for a Varsity Letters book signing and discussion – more details available here. And for those of you in the NY greater area, you can also meet the great Seth Mnookin, who has made appearances on this site (and also the great Sally Jenkins, who has not). I’m also supposed to be on the Leonard Lopate Show in New York that Wednesday. I’m told he’s a New York legend, sort of an intellectual Joe Franklin (my friends). But if you live in New York you probably knew that.

Even though I’m in San Francisco, I’m not sure exactly how to make a book signing happen because of scheduling and other issues and also because I would not want to miss the opprtunity to be snubbed by Barry Bonds. However, I do want to sign any and all copies – so I’ll make a deal with you. The William Morrow people have been nice enough to send me these bookplates. They’re like stickers you put inside the book only they’re classy (I think).

Anyway, if you would like have a signed book, you can send an email to SoulOfBaseball (at) gmail.com (let’s try that email because I’m having all sorts of problems with the Soul of Baseball email on the Web site). Send me your name, address and any sort of dedication you would like. I’ll sign and dedicate a bookplate (or more if you’ve bought more than one book) and ship it to you.

Obviously, I’m assuming that I will not be flooded with requests (hey, stamps are expensive!) and if this offer should somehow manage to knock us over The Tipping Point and send The Soul of Baseball into Harry Potter land, well, as da (Vinci Code) saying goes, we’ll just cross that Bridges of Madison County when we come to it.

Shortstop: Adam Everett

There is this sense among older baseball fans that people just don’t care as much about defense as they used to. There’s also a sense that nobody can bunt nowadays and nobody catches the ball with two hands and the pitchers these days can’t throw strikes, and why is it that nobody appreciates the value of a dollar anymore, a dollar is a lot of money, and don’t get me started on those kids with their hair and the rap music and the tattoos and that Britney Spears dancing in those skimpy devil clothes and …

Oh, wait, sorry, got lost for a second.

(Speaking of catching the ball with two hands, Thursday in San Francisco I saw someone hit a long fly ball left field, and Barry Bonds chased it down, reached out his glove hand, caught the ball, and then used his left hand to make sure it did not pop out of his glove. In other words, 43-year-old Barry Bonds, the scourge of middle-America, the scapegoat of the Steroid Era, the guy Bud Selig was reportedly hoping would get hurt, caught the fly ball precisely the way fathers teach their children. And I could not help but imagine a Dad watching the game with those children, seeing Bonds catch the ball that way, and then swallowing hard and pointing at Barry and saying, “See Bob and Julie. That’s the correct way to do it.” I can’t imagine there will be another scene quite like that on this chase).

Anyway, the point of this is that an older generation of baseball fans is more or less convinced that defense is simply not appreciated the way it once was, and I have to say they may be right. Take Adam Everett. He is a defensive marvel at shortstop. Last year, when we did the first Fielding Bible Awards – ten people voting the top 10 players at each position – Everett almost scored a perfect 100. He scored higher than anyone else at any position. He is, unquestionably (in my small circle of baseball friends, anyway), the best defensive shortstop in the game.

And yet, nobody in the grand scheme of baseball seems to notice this. Or they notice but they don’t care. Everett has never won a Gold Glove (while Derek Jeter, again, has won three. Oh Justice, Sweet Justice, where art thou?). There always seems to be talk coming out of Houston that Everett will be traded (but he never is because nobody else seems to appreciate his defense either). His job always seems on the line.

All of this (including the Gold Glove snubbing) happens because Adam Everett can’t hit a lick. He’s one of the worst everyday hitters in the big leagues as his lovely lifetime 69 OPS+ demonstrates. The Astros do keep playing Everett despite his offensive impotence, which says something good about his defense, but they seem do it only grudgingly, sort of the way the Dread Pirate Roberts kept Wesley as his valet (“Good night Wesley. Good work. Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning”).

The truth is that Everett bears a strong resemblance (as a player) to Mark Belanger.

-- In his career, Belanger hit .228/.300/.280. Everett has hit .247/.299/.357.
-- In his career, Belanger had an OPS+ of 68. Everett, as mentioned, has a 69 OPS+.
-- Both were very steady defensive shortstops who made all the plays.

But Belanger, unlike Everett, was sort of hero of his time. He won eight Gold Gloves. He was constantly being praised. He was the ultimate, “That’s how you play the game, Son” player. Why? It seems to be me Belanger had three distinct advantages:

1. He played in an era when runs were precious.
2. He played for a manager in Earl Weaver, who not only appreciated the value of defense but was creative enough to maximize his talents and minimize his weaknesses (this was in the era of eight and nine man pitching staffs, when managers had many more pinch-hitting and platooning options).
3. He played behind a world-class pitching staff and for teams that always won.

Because of these things, Belanger became an icon. It also didn’t hurt that every so often Belanger would have a sort of decent offensive year – in 1969, for instance, he had a .357 on-base percentage. He did have had a few scrappy offensive talents. Sure, Belanger had absolutely no power, and after 1977 he hit .204. But he would get you a walk now and then, and he famously had some success against the hardest throwers (he hit better than .600 against Jim Kern, he hit .421 against Goose Gossage. I’d always heard he hit Nolan Ryan well too, but apparently that’s a myth – he hit .244 against Ryan).

Everett, meanwhile, plays in an offensive era, in an offensive park, for a team that annually seems to have trouble at some point scoring runs. He doesn’t walk. He strikes out quite a bit. And, it might be worth mentioning, that he doesn’t play SMOOTH defense the way Belanger did. He’s terrific, and he’s got a great arm, but aesthetically, well, he doesn’t make the plays look very pretty. Maybe this matters. I don’t know. And I should also say I don’t know if you can have a good-defense, no-hit shortstop in today’s era and win. People I know in baseball seemed split on it.

In any case, Everett been out for weeks with a broken leg and will probably be out for a while longer. He’s only played the 63 games. But taking everything into account, I still think he’s the best defensive shortstop in the game. And I think had he played in the 1970s for Earl Weaver, he probably would have been better appreciated.

I can tell you that I watched Troy Tulowitzki play three games against the Royals, and I left feeling entirely ambivalent about him. I don’t mean that I ambivalent about how he played. I’m saying that I barely even noticed him. If someone had asked me after that series, “Hey, how good is Troy Tulowitzki defensively?” I would have had to say, “Um, no idea.” This is why I think finding defensive statistics that you can trust will be so helpful – unless a player makes a series of good plays (or one that stands out) or, conversely, makes a few terrible plays (or one that stands out), well, who the heck notices the defense of Troy Tulowitzki?

But his numbers are absolutely sensational. He goes out of his zone to make plays. He is terrific inside his zone. He has the highest range factor in baseball, he has turned more double plays, he has made only six errors. All in all, he’s probably the best defensive shortstop in the game right now, but I need to see him do it for the whole year before I jump him over Everett.

Best defensive shortstops so far (in order):
1. Adam Everett
2. Troy Tulowitzki
3. Omar Vizquel (still!)
4. Jack Wilson
5. Jason Bartlett

Worst defensive shortstops so far (in order)
1. Hanley Ramirez
2. Derek Jeter
3. Brendan Harris
4. Felipe Lopez
5. Jhonny Peralta

Second base: Chase Utley

Mark Ellis actually has the highest zone rating among second basemen, which I bring up because it turns out that Ellis ended up being the most important player in the infamous Johnny Damon deal. He was a throw-in.

Ellis is a pretty good example of all-things-Moneyball. In fact, he’s worth bringing up just to point out how much Michael Lewis’ book changed the landscape.

I remember that Damon trade very clearly. The Royals had determined that there was no way they were going to sign Johnny Damon. So they wanted to maximize his value by trading him during the off-season. Here's the context of the time in Kansas City -- the Royals were, at that moment, the best young hitting team in baseball. They had (and all of these guys were still young then), Damon (who had hit .327 and scored 136 runs), Carlos Beltran (who had an off-year), Jermaine Dye (who had been an All-Star starter), Mike Sweeney (who had driven in 144 runs) and Joe Randa (who had driven in 106 runs). They also had a young Mark Quinn, who had hit .294 with 20 homers and finished third in the Rookie of the Year vote.

What the Royals did NOT have, however, was pitching, and they especially did not have a bullpen. The Royals had set a team record for runs scored in 2000, but they had gone 77-85, in part because the bullpen had a 5.59 ERA and had blown more saves than recorded. It is true that the Royals did not have much starting pitching either, but as any fan, manager or baseball executive knows, nothing sucks the life out of you more than having a bad bullpen. Sure, in the grand scheme of things losing 5-4 is losing 5-4 no matter when the runs are scored.

But going into the ninth with a 4-2 lead and losing 5-4 just hurts more. The Royals did an awful lot of that in 2000. And there’s absolutely no doubt that thoroughly shaped general manager Allard Baird’s thinking.

The three-way trade ended up like this:

Oakland received Johnny Damon, Mark Ellis and Cory Lidle.
Tampa Bay received Ben Grieve.
Kansas City received Roberto Hernandez, Angel Berroa and A.J. Hinch.

I don’t want to break down the whole trade, though it seems pretty obvious who got the best of it. No, I want to say that Allard Baird had fallen in love with the idea of a dependable closer, and he had become convinced that Hernandez would be as dependable as he was likely to find (Roberto had 32 saves and a 3.12 ERA in 2000 though, looking back, he did give up more hits than innings pitched and a career-high nine homers).

But Baird wanted more than just Hernandez. His scouts really impressed on him the need to get shortstop Angel Berroa. Billy Beane, that shrewd Oakland general manager, made it sound like he simply could not give up on Berroa. After some haggling, Beane said, “OK, well, how about you throw in Mark Ellis.”

Allard considered this. He liked Ellis. But the Royals already had a second baseman he felt was their future (Carlos Febles) and Allard really coveted the shortstop. I think, looking back, he misjudged Ellis a little bit, and suspected the was going to be a utility infielder. A general manager simply will not hold up a deal to keep a potential utility infielder. So the deal was struck.

-- Hernandez had two blah years in Kansas City.
-- Berroa won Rookie of the Year and looked exactly like the player Baird had anticipated and then fell off the face of the earth.
-- Damon played one year in Oakland, had the worst season of his life, then signed with Boston, led the Idiots, and became a folk hero. And then signed with the Yankees.
-- A.J. Hinch will probably be a general manager someday very soon.
-- Ben Grieve imploded into himself like a dying star.

And that leaves Ellis … and the whole point of this. Why did Billy Beane want Mark Ellis? Because the guy GOT ON BASE. Remember, this was before Moneyball hit book stands, just before on-base percentage became the stat du jour. Ellis had a .400 on-base percentage at three levels with the Royals. He walked a lot. And as we know that’s precisely what Oakland wanted at that time. And that's what lots of teams want now. I suspect that these days a player with a .400 on-base percentage in the minor leagues is coveted a lot more than he might have been just seven or eight years ago.

The funny part is that Mark Ellis ended up not being especially good at getting on base. Ellis doesn’t walk a lot. His OBP this year is .327 and it was .319 last year. But they ended up getting a GOOD player when healthy – he hits some homers, he’s very steady, and he makes all the plays in his zone.

OK, back to the defensive choice. I chose Chase Utley because it seems to me he’s the best all-around defensive second baseman in the game. Ellis may be steadier. Orlando Hudson has more range and is flashier. Aaron Hill is terrific. But day-in, day-out, I think Utley’s the guy.

So how about this: Chase Utley is on pace to hit .334 with 66 doubles, 27 homers, 127 runs scored, 132 RBIs and he’s the best defensive second baseman in the game. I mean, seriously, where does THAT season rank among the greatest seasons ever. I realize he plays in a bandbox, and we’re still in an offensive era and all that. But wow.

(While I was writing this, apparently, Chase Utley broke his hand and will now be out close to a month. That's a real shame).

Note: I saw the comment from brilliant reader Daniel saying that Manny Ramirez is, at worst, below average and usually plays better than that. I’m sure Daniel as a Sox fan sees Manny a lot more than me. But I can tell you that I’ve never seen average defense from Manny, but more importantly I am looking at some defensive numbers here that make it pretty clear Ramirez is indeed quite putrid (or, if you prefer, rancid). I don’t want to give anything away until we get to left field. But I will tell you that Daniel s right about this: Adam Dunn is putrid and rancid.

Best defensive second basemen (in order):
1. Chase Utley
2. Aaron Hill
3. Orlando Hudson
4. Brandon Phillips
5. Mark Ellis

Worst defensive second basemen (in order)
1. Jeff Kent
2. Rickie Weeks
3. Craig Biggio
4. Freddy Sanchez
5. Dan Uggla

First Base: Albert Pujols

I think I have mentioned this here before ... Albert Pujols did not finish first-team All-Metro in The Kansas City Star. I don’t bring this up to mock the man responsible for this Dewey Defeats Truman blunder – though that’s always fun – but more to bring up the sad explanation he offers. He always that Pujols was a terrible defensive shortstop in high school and, as such, not worthy of making the team.

(This friend is not one who easily admits he was wrong. He has made numerous fairly remarkable statements about various Royals including, at different times, calling Zack Greinke “a genius” and “a bust.” He remains convinced that he’s right about both, and with Zack, I guess, anything's possible).

ANYWAY, it strikes me that this Pujols explanation is precisely the way people generally use defensive judgments – they use them basically to back up whatever point they intend to make. As we know, there have never been particularly trustworthy defensive statistics, and so it’s easy to pretty much whatever claim you would like to make.

For instance, a scout friend of mine called a couple of days ago and said that Manny Ramirez is an “underrated defensive outfielder.” Now, first of all, this may be true, in that MannyBeingManny is rated as “Putrid” defensively, and he’s actually “Rancid,” and “Rancid” is better than “Putrid,” so that would make him underrated. In this same way you could say that Kenny G is underrated as a musician because he’s viewed by many people as the single worst musical atrocity to hit since a meteor crashed into the earth and killed all the dinosaurs (they say the sound was a lot like the Hall & Oates comeback album). But this is patently not true. Michael Bolton is demonstrably worse than Kenny G. Also the Peter Cetera incarnation of the band Chicago. Also Starship.

Second of all, he was trying to defend Manny Ramirez as a player, and instead of saying, “OK, look, he’s a clown, he doesn’t know where he is half the time, he runs the bases like he has only a passing understanding of the rules, he chases after balls into the corner with all the enthusiasm of a janitor trying to kill a large rat in a garbage dumpster (Editor’s note: I actually saw this in the fourth grade, and it is an image I’m not likely to ever forget), but occasionally he will shock you and make a decent defensive play or throw, and man he knocks the living crap out of the ball,” he gives me this, “He’s underrated defensively” nonsense.

But that’s how it goes: People have simply used defense to cover up the shortcomings of players they like or to tear down a player they have no particular use for. It isn't necessarily that the judgments are WRONG (it is acknowledged by most of the people who saw his games that Pujols really was a bad shortstop in high school). It is just that they are overplayed or underplayed to make a point. Managers always used to say stuff like, "Well, Player X can't hit, but he will save you 100 runs every year with his defense" or "Sure, Player Y can hit a little, but he will cost you 100 runs every year on defense," or some other absurd comment.

It’s funny: Baseball is the most precisely recorded game in the history of mankind; we can tell you with some statistical clarity who the best hitters are, who the best pitchers are, how many runs players create, how many wins they help earn, how they perform compared to their peers, how they perform compared to a replacement-level player, and so on, and so on. But it's still human nature to find vacuums and delve into myths because that's where we can shout our opinions loudest. Nobody can argue with any real authority that Jason Kendall can be of any use whatsoever with the bat or with his throwing arm. But they can shout all day about how well he "handles pitchers" or how he's "a leader."

ANYWAY, tangent there, sorry, Albert Pujols is my pick right now because he makes more plays outside the usual first baseman sphere than anyone in the game. He's sort of a second baseman playing first.

Casey Kotchman is a terrific defensive first baseman as well. Kevin Youkilis gets mention since he has not made an error all year, and he's probably the best in the game right now at reliably making all the routine to slightly above routine plays.

OK, I'm going to add a bonus: Top 5, and Bottom 5 at each position for this season so far. You can thank me by clicking here:

Best defensive first basemen (in order):
1. Albert Pujols
2. Casey Kotchman
3. Todd Helton
4. Kevin Youkilis
5. Sean Casey

Worst defensive first basemen (in order)
1. Dmitri Young
2. Richie Sexson
3. Nomar Garciaparra
4. Ryan Garko
5. Ryan Howard

And I apologize to the Derrek Lee fan -- his defensive numbers are pretty brutal, and my scouts reports on him aren't any better. I'll try to watch him closely the rest of the year.

D-(fence) After 100 Games

One of the very cool things I get to do as, well, I don't really know why they let me do this. But I get to be on the panel for the Fielding Bible Awards. These is an effort by John Dewan and Bill James and others to try and create a better Gold Gloves, you know, one where Derek Jeter doesn't keep winning for his human couch act at shortstop.

I had been relatively agnostic about Jeter's defense at short -- agnostic in the sense that I suspected he wasn't particularly good but willing to concede that he had a knack for making some big plays and that perhaps watching him every day would increase my appreciation for him. Friends of mine who DO watch him more or less every day had always said that. Well, I've watched Jeter closely enough now that I'm a true non-believer. He's a brual defensive shortstop, one of the five worst in the game. Sure, he's athletic enough, and he's baseball brilliant enough to make a few nice plays, which his supporters then trumpet like he cured polio. That's the JHE (Jeter Halo Effect).

The JHE reminds me a little of the Sugar Ray Leonard-Marvin Hagler fight -- if you wouldn't mind a completely bizarre analogy. You might recall that Sugar Ray Leonard won that fight, and if you scored a replay of it, you would probably score it for Leonard by one or two rounds. However, as my friend Greg Barrett once told me, try to score it with the SOUND DOWN. That is, try to score the same fight without hearing the announcers praise every little thing Sugar Ray does, without hearing the crowd go absolutely berzerk whenever Sugar Ray lands some puff punch. I did it, and found that Sugar Ray's punches were all but worthless, Hagler landed the better shots and -- yep -- that Hagler proabably won the fight, and maybe by two or three rounds.

Ditto Jeter. If you can turn down the noise, I think he loses the fight too, and loses it convincingly.

Anyway, as part of the panel I am granted access to John Dewan's groundbreaking defensive statistics. You know John and his folks there literally chart every single defensive play on some sort of computer; if I understand it correctly (an unlikely scenario, I admit), it goes like this: Torii Hunter hits a ground ball into the hole against the Detroit Tigers. The Fielding Bible people will punch into the computer exactly where the ball went, exactly how fast it was going, etc ("What's the vector, Victor?"). He will then see if Carlos Guillen can make the play. But here's where it gets good -- he then compares Guillen's performance against other shortstops on precisely that play.

So, let's say Guillen goes into the hole, backhands it, sets, fires, and throws out Hunter. Dewan's people will then determine what percentage of shortstops made that very play this year. If, say, 47 percent of shortstops make the play, then Guillen will get a +.53 on the play (100 percent minus the 43 percent that make the play). If 12 percent make the play, he gets a +.88. And so on.

And if the reverse is true -- say Guillen does not get to the ball -- then it's a minus play. If 47 percent of shortstops make the play then Guillen gets a -.47.

I hope I'm explaining this correctly -- and I doubt I am. But I know it's SOMETHING like this. At the end of the year, each player gets a final +/- rating that compares his performance to those who play his position. I'm not smart enough to know how good this statistic is compared to what the Major League teams use, but it definitely makes a whole lot of sense to me, and while there's no doubt it is affected by context (where does the shortstop play, how thick was the grass that day, who was running, etc), well, defense IS context. The greatest play in World Series history (with apologies to Willie Mays and Vic Wertz), I think, is Brooks Robinson throwing out Lee May from foul ground in the '70 World series. Well, it's that's Bobby Tolan instead of Lee May, there's no way Robinson throws him out.

And if you prefer the Willie Mays play, well, that whole play is context. If that ball is hit in any other ballpark, it's gone, right?

ANYWAY, now that I've made a mess of explaining all that, I can tell you John sent me the midseason Fielding Bible statistics. And while I'm not allowed to pass along those stats -- and I wouldn't do that to John anyway -- I have used them, along with zone rating, range factor, a few chats with scouts and my own rough evaluations to pick a sort of tentative all-defensive team. I reserve the right to change my choices by the end of the year based on your, "YAAI," comments.

Oh yeah, one other thing: In the Fielding Bible Awards, we choose one team for all of baseball, and we break up the outfield into LF, CF, RF rather than just choosing three outfielders like they do in the Gold Gloves. That makes sense to me. A leftfielder has not won a Gold Glove since Barry Bonds in 1998. And in the American League you have to go back to ... yikes, Yaz in '77?

One other thing ... I would normally do this in one gigantic blog that would take me forever to write. But based on comments from the gallery and also comments from my wife, I will spread this out, position by position, each a new blog, over the next few of days. Supposedly this will be easier on me and also give you, the brilliant readers, some clarity. We'll see. We might never make it to right field.

A Live Blog (Sort of)

Well, the whole concept of a live blog from tonight's Giants-Braves game lost quite a bit of steam when it was announced that Barry Bonds wouldn't play. This means that in five days of being on the Barry Bonds chase, I have seen him sit more games out (2) than hit balls out of the infield (1). Not so good.

But a live blog was promised, and so we shall offer something resembling a live blog, featuring Mike Vaccaro, sports columnist at the New York Post and author of 1941: It Was A Great Sports Year Trust Me I Wrote A Whole Book About it.

Before we get started, however, I do want to say that today the Kansas City Royals released Scott Elarton, the subject of our earlier blog item. It had to happen, and Elarton handled it with grace, as you might expect. It was pointed out in the comments that he leaves before he had a chance to pull off a statistical oddity -- Elarton has struck out 13 this year and given up 12 homers. Has anyone ever given up more homers than strikeouts (minimum 10 homers?)

Yes. It's happened once. In 1923, the great Bill Hubbell pitched 55 innings, gave up 13 homers and struck out only 8.

Here are a few other close calls:

Bill Kerksiek, 1939, struck out 13, allowed 13 homers.
Armando Reynoso, 2001, struck out 15, allowed 13 homers.
Joe Haynes, 1950, struck out 15, allowed 14 homers.
Larry Pashnick, 1982, struck out 19, allowed 17 homers.
Steve Sparks, 1996, struck out 21, allowed 19 homers.

And here we go. Live blog to follow. I have absolutely no idea how this is going to read ... well, actually I do. It's raw, unfiltered nonsense. I promise not to do this to you again.

Poz (10:29:46 PM): We welcome to the TSOB Blog Mike Vaccaro. Michael it's a joy to have you here.
Michael Vac (10:29:49 PM): I want to go home, mommy
Poz (10:31:32 PM): No, really, a joy. Really. Holy cow, we're sitting here in San Francisco at a game between the Giants, who are one of the most awful-to-watch teams I have ever seen, and the Braves, who aren't exactly a thrill a minute either. And Barry Bonds isn't playing. And I just ate a Cha Cha Bowl from Orlando Cepeda's restaurant and I don't feel so well. What has happened to our lives?
Poz (10:32:19 PM): And I don't want to say nothing is happening here, but on the live broadcast they are now interviewing Craig Sager.
Michael Vac (10:32:48 PM): There have been some dreadful assignments in the history of sportswriting. This one might be the "Heavens Gate" of assignments
Poz (10:35:48 PM): Well, we did just get to watch Randy Winn pop out. So that's something. I've given up any hope that we're going to see Barry Bonds actually break the home run record ... I'm thinking at this pace he might break it on August. 12, 2011. But I am very much hoping that we will at least get to see Bobby Cox get thrown out of a game to set THAT record.
Michael Vac (10:36:27 PM): Bobby Cox: he gets voted in the Hall the moment he retires, right?
Poz (10:37:04 PM): Yes. But he gets thrown out two years later.
Michael Vac (10:37:54 PM): Good one.
Poz (10:39:05 PM): I actually think Cox is an amazing manager. As far as I can tell, nobody thinks he's a particularly good chess player. He's not exactly a baseball philosopher. He doesn't, as far as I can tell, relate well to anybody. And yet the guy wins year after year. How many other people in sports are really good at their jobs and you have absolutely no idea why.
Poz (10:39:46 PM): I guess there's Tom Glavine, who is about to win 300 games even though he last threw a strike in 1993.
Michael Vac (10:40:23 PM): in some ways, Cox seems like parcells, who was a brutal x and o guy and seemed to relish the fact that he and his players had absolutely zero in commmon
Poz (10:41:11 PM): Yeah, but at least Parcells had the intimidation factor. And he had Belichick ... we all know Parcells has absolutely sucked without Belichick.
Michael Vac (10:41:35 PM): think of how many world series the braves might have won if they had belichick
Poz (10:42:00 PM): Instead of Mazzone. And I see you have decided to stop typing with capital letters.
Michael Vac (10:42:39 PM): going from mazzone to roger mcdowell is kinda like when the pats went from parcells to pete carroll. you know, before carroll became the best coach on the planet
Poz (10:43:50 PM): You just know that if Pete Carroll went back to the NFL he’d instantly become an idiot again … Edgar Renteria is batting now. I did a blog earlier this year looking at Hall of Fame chances. You know, Edgar Renteria has a real shot at 3,000 hits. In fact, he just got an infield single, and that was his 1903rd hit. He's only 31. You voting Renteria into the Hall if he gets 3,000 hits?
Michael Vac (10:44:33 PM): i think he's been a heck of a player. but that’s still a lotta highway between here and 3,000
Poz (10:46:07 PM): It is. But I can tell you that there have only been 40 players to get 1900 hits before they turned 32. Pete Rose only had 1922.
Poz (10:46:44 PM): See this is the advantage of having a Sabermeteric Baseball Encyclopedia on your computer.
Michael Vac (10:47:18 PM): You know, it might be a good time to point out how briskly this game is moving along
Poz (10:47:47 PM): Stop. Please stop. Please. (Yesterday, Mike made prominent mention how quickly the game was going … a major press box faux pas. The Giants promptly scored four runs in the bottom of the ninth to send the game into a four-hour, extra inning deadline nightmare).
Michael Vac (10:47:51 PM): So THAT'S what a home run looks like!
Poz (10:48:44 PM): That home run was brought to you by Rich Aurillia, who is playing first base tonight. My God, is this a bad Giants team.
Michael Vac (10:48:58 PM): Where does "Barry Bonds not playing when you're here exclusively to see Barry Bonds play" rank on your list of personally anticlimactic moments?
Poz (10:50:11 PM): It's pretty high ... especially because this is the second time in five games I've had the pleasure of covering a Giants game Barry Bonds did not play in. And that’s sad because if the Giants were playing in my back yard without Barry Bonds, I wouldn't normally open the blinds to watch.
Poz (10:50:54 PM): I honestly don't see how you could built a team as bad and old as this Giants team without trying to be a bad, old team.
Michael Vac (10:51:26 PM): But what about Fred Lewis!
Michael Vac (10:51:29 PM): He's YOUNG and bad!
Poz (10:53:52 PM): Tonight's lineup:

Dave Roberts, CF
Randy Winn, RF
Ray Durham, 2B
Pedro Feliz, 3B
Rich Aurillia, 1B
Guillermo Rodriguez, C
Kevin Frandsen, SS
Fred Lewis, LF
Noah Lowry, P

Seriously, LOOK at that lineup.
Michael Vac (10:54:20 PM): With Omar Vizquel and Bonds in the lineup, that adds about 85 years too
Poz (10:55:18 PM): I have seen plenty of horrendous Royals lineups, don't get me wrong. But for some reason, this one just makes me sadder. Maybe it's because I have absolutely no idea why we're here tonight.
Michael Vac (10:55:37 PM): You have to figure our man B-squared will get a pinch hit appearance, no? I mean, do the Giants go out of their way to actively screw their fans?
Poz (10:56:28 PM): Yeah, they just announced this is a sellout crowd. And while I'm sure they're thrilled with the chance to see Kevin Frandson and all, yeah, they might at least want a moment of Barry.
Michael Vac (10:57:04 PM): You know what’s sickening? Every time you see shots of old Candlestick when the GIants had Mays and McCovey and Cepeda and Marichal, it looks like they were lucky to get 3,000 people a game in there. And now they turn ‘em away to NOT see Bonds
Poz (10:57:50 PM): Maybe they couldn't get more people back then because Cepeda was making fans eat Cha Cha Bowls. I really am not feeling great.
Michael Vac (10:57:42 PM): And hey, you have to be excited ... you're in the same ballpark with DUANE KUIPER!
Poz (10:58:29 PM): You know what's funny? I absolutely, positively had not even thought of that until you mentioned it. My God. My favorite player is HERE. I have to write a column about him. Or at least a blog.
Poz (10:58:43 PM): Hell, Kuiper hit more home runs in his career than I'm going to see Barry hit this week.
Michael Vac (10:59:18 PM): By the way, I just watched Ryan Howard on mlb.com hit one about 678 feet to give the Phil-dogs a win. How many is he gonna have before he's done?
Poz (11:00:00 PM): I predicted before the break that he would hit more homers this year than Prince Fielder. Where are they at now?
Michael Vac (11:00:31 PM): that was Howard's 28th
Poz (11:01:10 PM): The Prince has 30. I might be right on that one. I might not be right in my prediction that Todd Helton would hit .400. He might not hit .300.
Michael Vac (11:01:22 PM): or in your prediction that Barry Bonds will reach 754
Poz (11:02:18 PM): You know, I was thinking about this ... obviously Bonds will do it. I mean, there's no doubt he will do it. I'm saying this very clearly and in all capital letters: "HE WILL DO IT."
Michael Vac (11:02:30 PM): Just not in what you would call a timely fashion
Poz (11:02:42 PM): But there are a couple of points to make. One, he's 43. And two, when the home runs stop, they STOP. Remember Dale Murphy's sad effort to get to 400?
Michael Vac (11:03:30 PM): By the way, I guess our dream broadcasting team, you and I, would team up Duane Kuiper and Felix Millan
Poz (11:05:08 PM): Seventh-inning stretch here, and the guy just sang the rarely heard prelude to "God Bless America." Nice touch.
Michael Vac (11:05:49 PM): the only place i'd ever heard that was at Yankee Stadium, during the mandatory freeze-the-opposing-pitcher segment of all playoff games.
Poz (11:07:17 PM): I want to get back to that point for a second ... Dale Murphy wanted 400 home runs so badly, and he fell short ... 398. Al Kaline got 399. When the homers stop, they just stop. Barry's so close now, but let's say this thing stretches on 10, 15, 20 games. And then the pressure starts building. And he gets hurt, sits out a week. I mean, it's not impossible.
Michael Vac (11:07:57 PM): There is a large segment of American baseball fans who would embrace that with both arms.
Poz (11:09:25 PM): OK, so let's move on. Yankees ... playoffs or no?
Michael Vac (11:10:21 PM): Yup. Bank on it. The bats are starting to come around, and soon the rotation will be Wang-Pettitte-Clemens-Mussina-Hughes, which means they aren't going on any more extended losing streaks
Michael Vac (11:11:02 PM): It's astonishing how easy their schedule has been. From All Star Game through Aug 11, they’ll only have played the Devil Rays, Orioles, Royals, White Sox, and Blue Jays
Michael Vac (11:11:10 PM): Those are some truly abysmal baseball teams there
Poz (11:12:10 PM): Well, if the Yankees could play the Royals every night, they wouldn't lose again all year. I really thought that Buddy Bell was in position where he could lead the Royals to 73-75 wins and incredibly save his job. He still might. But getting destroyed three straight against the Yankees doesn't help.
Michael Vac (11:12:19 PM): It would be nice to at least be remotely competitive
Poz (11:13:21 PM): Well, the Elarton game, the Royals had no chance to even be competitive. But you would have thought with Meche on the mound they might have at least put up a fight.
Poz (11:14:13 PM): I see Joe Torre was in rare form tonight -- six pitchers in a 7-1 victory.
Poz (11:14:28 PM): He was getting this victory, dammit.
Michael Vac (11:14:39 PM): That's the one thing that makes you crazy about Torre, who I think is a tremendous manager. He has zero compunction about blowing out his bullpen
Poz (11:15:23 PM): Here's one for you: You have the Hall of Fame ballot, and you can only choose one manager. You have two on there, Bobby Cox and Joe Torre. Who do you vote for?
Michael Vac (11:17:14 PM): Torre. You can talk all you want about how loaded his teams have been, but they've gone the distance four times, and you could argue that in three of those years (1996, 99, 00) they had the inferior team. Cox's teams were just as loaded and he only one once. And that 1996 team that lost to the Yankees shouldn't only have beaten them, they should have swept them.
Michael Vac (11:18:33 PM): What do you think?
Poz (11:19:41 PM): It's an interesting debate. Because until Torre came to New York -- a marvelous marriage of words and music, as Sinatra said -- he was generally viewed as an AWFUL manager, right? Meanwhile since 1983, Cox has managed 18 full seasons and his team has won 88 games or more in 17 of them. He’s had all those first place finishes, he’s probably the best regular season manager ever.
Poz (11:21:22 PM): I'd probably say Torre though because of the World Series titles. And you can throw in he was close to a Hall of Fame caliber player. But I think all in all Cox's record as a manager is more impressive.
Michael Vac (11:21:46 PM): I would argue that no one ever said Torre was an awful manager. Those Mets teams he started with, Muggsy McGraw couldn't have won with them. He won a division with the Braves. And he had the Cardinals turned around before he got screwed by them
Poz (11:23:03 PM): I think that's a bit of revisionist history -- yes, nobody could have won with those Mets, but they sucked. He did win that one fluky year with the Braves, but I don't think anyone saw that as brilliant managing. And I think his time with the Cardinals was pretty spotty.
Poz (11:24:09 PM): By the way, we should explain that it's the bottom of the eighth and the Giants are winning 2-1. And Bonds isn't looking like he will pinch hit. Nice effort for the fans.
Michael Vac (11:25:02 PM): It’s really unbelievable. i mean what in the world would otherwise compel anytone to come here and sit in the cold? And let’s be honest with the folks: it's bloody COLD here
Michael Vac (11:25:27 PM): What's the old saying? The coldest winter I ever spent was July in San Fracisco
Poz (11:25:53 PM): Well, at least now they get to see Rich Aurillia again now.
Michael Vac (11:27:38 PM): we need three more hits to get a glimmer of a chance
Poz (11:28:08 PM): They couldn't pinch hit for Rodriguez here?
Michael Vac (11:28:59 PM): If they had, you would have missed the most feeble-looking swing of the day right there
Poz (11:31:15 PM): Here's Omar Vizquel. This is just as exciting as seeing Bonds (who is now on TV walking around the dugout with a bat).
Poz (11:32:05 PM): He just hit a routine fly ball to left -- which is more than I've seen Bonds do in five games.
Michael Vac (11:32:04 PM): We'll have to wait till the bottom of the ninth. After Jeff Francoeur hits one to that big ol' glove in left field
Poz (11:32:33 PM): Who is the Giants closer, Moon-man Minton?
Michael Vac (11:32:26 PM): Moonlight Graham?
Poz (11:34:58 PM): Apparently, Brad Hennessey. OK. Hey, your co-worker Brian Costello just made a great point -- the only thing that would be worse than covering this game tonight would be to be at the Tour de France.
Poz (11:35:18 PM): They're throwing guys out, you live in a tent, nobody cares, steroids are a way of life.
Michael Vac (11:35:13 PM): We'd probably find a way to get wretched meals in Paris somehow, too
Poz (11:35:57 PM): There’s the leadoff double by Francoeur.
Michael Vac (11:35:40 PM): of COURSE
Poz (11:36:27 PM): It's hard to believe considering that the Giants went to Brad Hennessey.
Michael Vac (11:36:38 PM): Hennessy: fine cognac, so-so relief
Poz (11:37:54 PM): OK, man on third, one out. Is there ANY chance the Giants prevent the Braves from scoring the game-tying run?
Michael Vac (11:37:54 PM): zero chance
Poz (11:39:24 PM): And the whiff!
Poz (11:39:41 PM): That's some Brad Hennessey high heat taking out Jarod Saltamacacachia
Michael Vac (11:39:50 PM): The Irish taking out the Italians. It's like Connery in "The Untouchables"
Poz (11:40:42 PM): The fans are on their feet here, Mike.
Michael Vac (11:40:33 PM): they have to stay warm somehow Joe
Poz (11:40:56 PM): And it's 2-1 to Kelly Johnson.
Poz (11:41:09 PM): There's a strike on the outside corner, 2-2.
Michael Vac (11:40:53 PM): Now we can say it as we want:
Michael Vac (11:41:01 PM): TWO AND TWO TO KELL-LEE JOHNSON
Poz (11:41:28 PM): And he fouls it straight back.
Poz (11:41:40 PM): Good swing there by Johnson, Mike. He's mad at himself, thought he should have done more with that one.
Michael Vac (11:41:45 PM): And we're full
Poz (11:42:13 PM): Pitch down in the dirt. Wanted to see if Johnson would chase.
Poz (11:42:34 PM): And Hennessey STRUCK HIM OUT.
Poz (11:42:53 PM): There's much joy in San Francisco, Mike Vaccaro, as the fans can go home without having seen Barry Bonds pinch-hit.
Michael Vac (11:42:56 PM): Barry Who?
Michael Vac (11:43:03 PM): Can we go home now?
Poz (11:43:32 PM): You betcha.

Do you want us live from San Fran? (Take 2)

OK, I’m going to try something new here … something interactive. Mike Vaccaro, New York Post columnist extraordinaire and author of 1941: Lots of Cool Stuff Happened That Year Including Stuff with DiMaggio and Whirlaway and Stuff, has offered his wisdom, wit and general services to help form a live blog for tonight’s Giants-Braves-Barry game.

I’m torn about this for three reasons:

1. Live blogs are a lot of stinking work.
2. Like Bud Selig, I do have a day job.
3. Live blogs are a lot of stinking work.

However, I shall put it to you brilliant readers. I know there’s a way to do a poll on here, but I’m obviously blog illiterate (I lost this entry once already) and also I need to get out of this hotel room and out into San Francisco. So here’s the deal: If you flood the comments section with affirmatives and reasonably authentic-sounding promises to buy another copy of The Soul of Baseball (or even Mike’s terrific book 1941: You Know Williams Hit .400 That Year and Billy Conn Almost Became Heavyweight Champ and Stuff) then we might just do it.

And hey, we are checking those Amazon numbers. We’ll know if you lie to us.

We're all going to Elarton

Last season, I found myself feeling something of an appreciation for Scott Elarton. I think appreciation is the right word. I’ve always had a soft spot for those pitchers who battle even though it is quite clear, based on their stuff and all-purpose inability to upset timing, that they are fighting the odds. I used to watch Kris Wilson, a gritty former quarterback, go out for Kansas City and desperately try anything and everything he could to get people out. He wasn’t often successful, but the effort was something close to heroic – not unlike a scene in Braveheart. Striving against hope, they say, is the story of man, right?

Scott Elarton, I thought, was sort of a better Kris Wilson. He had come to Kansas City for too much money (I thought) but for mostly admirable reasons: He prized the big outfield at Kauffman Stadium. Elarton understood himself – he’s an extreme flyball pitcher and knew that he could use the extra space. Through his first 10 starts, he was 0-5, but that was at least somewhat undeserved as he had a not-entirely-awful 4.71 ERA, and he’d had four quality starts, and, like I say, he had battled every time out. I think appreciation is the right word.

Then Elarton started dealing with some injuries; he’s had bunches of them through the years. He was mostly awful for a couple of months (though he did win four games) and then his season ended in July. I would say he was more or less forgotten at that point. The Royals hired a new general manager, and things just seemed to be moving forward from the Elarton days.

Elarton worked very hard to come back. He’s an altogether admirable guy, a battler as mentioned, and he made an early return, May 12. That day he pitched a gutty, archetypal Scott Elarton game – 5 innings, 2 earned runs, 1 strikeout, 2 home runs. He also took the loss and may have deserved better. Scotty was back. A scout told me that his stuff was subpar – and Elarton’s par stuff wasn’t going to win you the British Open – but to the untrained eye he looked about the same. Next time out, he pitched 5 1/3 innings and gave up four runs, which was worse, obviously, but still within the familiar Elarton range.

Next time out, however, he didn’t make it five innings. Next time out he gave up seven runs. And on it went like that. His next five starts he never went six innings, never gave up fewer than four runs. When I saw Elarton pitch in St. Louis (2 2/3 innings, 5 runs) he was bad enough that I was stirred to write that the Royals should go back to the four-man rotation. Elarton had said coming into that game that he had discovered a flaw in his delivery – he wanted to keep his arm tighter to his body. I wrote – a bit too snidely, perhaps – that the adjustment may have worked, but unfortunately batters aren’t especially interested in hitting Elarton’s arm, they’re quite content to hit the ball. I don’t believe Elarton appreciated the line, and I certainly understand that, but he was bad. The next day he went on the disabled list with some sort of foot problem. His ERA was 9.17.

At this point, it seemed at least possible that Elarton would not pitch for the Royals again. Of course team officials insisted that Elarton had something left, but that’s just the sort of thing team officials say about players, especially likeable player like Elarton. The Royals picked up John Thompson, who pitched admirably in his first start, less so in his second, but then he got hurt. They brought up Leo Nunez for an emergency start, and he held up for four innings before the pitch count got him.

Meanwhile, Elarton was dreadful in the minor leagues. He threw six shutout innings in his first start back with Omaha, and then it all came crashing down:

-- He allowed 10 hits and 7 runs in 4 innings against Oklahoma.
-- He allowed 6 hits and 4 runs in 5 innings at Round Rock.
-- He allowed 5 hits and 5 runs in 5 innings against Iowa
-- He allowed 8 hits and 6 runs and 4 homers in 5 2/3 at Albuquerque.

It was this after this last start that Elarton pronounced himself ready to Royals manager Buddy Bell. He felt sound. Yes, he gave up those four homers, but Albuquerque, as you probably know, is pretty famous for its light air as well as being the place where Bugs Bunny never took the right turn (“Worse than Colorado,” Bell would say), and Elarton had always been honest about his self evaluation. He had, for instance, said he was lousy after his games against Round Rock and Iowa. Anyway, the Royals announced they would start him Tuesday night against the New York Yankees.

Now, I will admit up front that I was skeptical, if you consider, “You have got to be kidding me,” a skeptical statement. The Royals did not have many options because of roster limitations, injuries and money invested. But it did seem to me that the team was playing its best baseball in years, there was going to be a huge crowd at the game, and these were the New York Yankees. This just didn’t seem like the best time to be throwing Scott Elarton as some sort of human sacrifice. Royals officials insisted that his stuff was better, and expected Elarton to hold up. Elarton was confident. Elarton is a battler.

He went 1 2/3 innings and gave up seven runs. That drove the ol’ ERA up to 10.46.

Worst ERAs in baseball history with a pitcher making 8 or more starts:
1. Ryan Bowen, 1992, 10.96 ERA (9 starts)
2. Roy Halladay, 2000, 10.64 ERA (13 starts)
3. Scott Elarton*, 2007, 10.46 ERA (9 starts)
4. Charlie Stecher, 1890, 10.32 ERA (10 starts)
5. Micah Bowie, 1999, 10.24 ERA (11 starts)

Obviously Elarton’s season is not over, but just wanted to show you where he stood.

During Tuesday’s game, a friend of mine sent me an instant message that said: “I think this might hurt Elarton’s Cy Young chances.”

And because I was between Barry Bonds at-bats, and the Giants are an absolutely horrendous team to watch (seriously, I’ve been watching the ROYALS for years, and everyone knows what that means, I can still tell you that Giants team is unwatchable – how do you San Francisco fans stand it? Pedro Feliz? Ray Durham? Matt Cain? Dave Roberts? Ugh. At least Tim Lincecum is fun ... when does he go again?), I thought: Would it even be humanly possible for Elarton to win a Cy Young Award after this start? So, I totaled up Elarton’s current stats with Bob Gibson’s August-September stats from 1968.

I came up with: 9-8, 3.72 ERA, 145 IP, 130 hits, 46 walks, 127 Ks.

Not, Cy Young but better. What about Elarton + Pedro circa 1999?

You get: 10-5, 4.27 ERA, 114 IP, 97 hits, 34 walks, 139 Ks.

See, you need innings to get that ERA down.

One more, how about Elarton + Steve Carlton, 1972.

You get: 14-8, 3.29 ERA, 178 IP, 158 hits, 54 walks, 115 Ks.

That’s a pretty darned good year actually – maybe not quite Cy Young worthy, but it would be Elarton's best year. So all he needs to do now is become left-handed, learn a slider and stop talking to the press – something he may very well do anyway if he reads this stupid blog. The truth is, you never like seeing a good guy like Scott Elarton struggle. He’s coming off a severe injury, and it’s entirely possible that with an off-season of rest and training he can come back and be an effective pitcher again. I hope so.

In the meantime, though, the Royals are still deciding whether or not to have Elarton make his next start. That decision, it seems to me, shouldn’t be difficult.

Two odd realizations ...

I've got this very nice plasma television in my hotel room here in San Francisco, so even though it's morning and there's nothing ever good on television in the morning, I flipped it on to see what's happening in the world.

I turned to ESPN (after noticing that ESPN Classic had outdoor bowling on AGAIN) and heard the woman say, "OK, let's go to our ESPN studios for a SportsCenter update," or something like that.

So they went to someone else who said that the big story was that NBA commissioner David Stern had held a one-hour press conference to discuss his dismay and horror with the latest news, that an NBA referee was allegedly betting on NBA games and also had some sort of tie with organized crime. They then went to footage of David Stern, and indeed he looked dismayed and horrified. He called it the worst situation he had ever experienced as either an NBA fan or as commissioner of the league, and said this ref, Tim Donaghy, was a rogue, isolated criminal, which they might have noticed earlier because he was, after all, the only referee in the NBA to call traveling violations.

After a few more moments of sad David Stern the camera flipped back to the SportsCenter anchor who gave us the other big story of the day -- that the Atlanta Falcons would have a press conference to discuss Michael Vick and his dog-fighting indictment. There was then some footage of Vick running around on the football field. You might recall that Vick has been indicted on charges that include gambling (there's pretty big money on dog-fighting) but also violence against dogs that did not perform well which include: drowning, electrocution, hanging and shooting. Good man, that Vick. Jon Stewart the other day said what I've been saying all along: I don't think Vick (assuming he's found guilty) should be suspended from the NFL or jailed. I think he should be put in the cage with a couple of pit bulls so we can see his much-admired elusiveness.

And then the SportsCenter update ended. That was it. That was the day in sports -- a referee gambling and a quarterback who allegedly led a dog-fighting ring.

My two realizations:

1. We have to take sports back. We just have to. It's getting to the point where getting updated on sports news is more depressing than getting updated on how Al Qaida is rebuilding its base in Pakistan.

2. The Barry Bonds chase I'm on is the most inspiring national sports story happening today. Who would have thought that?

You had to be a big shot ...

This little stream of consciousness won’t have a lot to do with sports, but it’s something I thought about while hearing the Billy Joel song “Big Shot” in a coffee shop the other day. It might not make much sense, but, hey, what on this blog does? If you're here for the baseball thoughts, you might just skip this one, I'll get something baseball up later.

The thought is this: It seems we have reached a time and place in America – because of technology and freedom of choice – where you can more or less wander inside your own personal bubble and never, ever deal with anything outside your own sphere of interest. You can live without ever running into an opposing opinion, a challenging idea or new type of music. You can sort of stand still.

Let’s say you’re an anti-war liberal Democrat who likes The Smiths, adult alternative music, sweet breakfast cereals and the Red Sox. You \ wake up in the morning and go to any number of Web sites and read about some new outrage committed by George W. Bush. You click on video of Jon Stewart doing his Dick Cheney impression. You eat Sugar Smacks (while listening to “Sweet and Tender Hooligan” on your iPod) while reading the printed out Red Sox stories that Jeff Horrigan and Gordon Edes wrote the night before

You go to your car and go to work – first you click on XM Hear Music, and listen to Ingrid Michaelson’s “Far Away,” and the Bees “Who Cares What The Question Is,” and then a song comes on that you don’t like, so you flip back to your iPod and listen to The Smiths’ “Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now” and “The Night has Opened My Eyes.”

You get to work, and there’s an email from a buddy of yours wondering what the hell is going on with J.D. Drew. You write back a thoughtful and considered response (“He sucks”) and then do whatever it is you do at work, pausing occasionally to watch the rather hilarious You Tube video of the Michael Moore-Wolf Blitzer slap-fight. You click onto impeachbush.org just for the Hell of it, print out a few Cindy Sheehan blog listings and read them over lunch, (while listening to “Death of a Disco Dancer” and “Girlfriend in a Coma” on the ol’ iPod), get through the day somehow (maybe you send your friend an email that says, “I love Dustin Pedroia!”), drive home (listening to the new Tori Amos and Rufus Wainright songs on XM), help your kids with their homework (“Yes, Stacy, this is the American Constitution and it’s being ignored in America today”), have dinner, go for your evening jog (While listening to ‘Frankly Mr. Shankly” and “Some Girls are Bigger Than Others”), get back home, read the kids a book, grab a bowl of Captain Crunch, go watch the Red Sox (assuming you live in Boston or have the MLB package on your TV), and then fade into sleep while reading whatever Paul Krugman or Eric Alterman book you have by your bed.

(Note: The previous person has absolutely no resemblance to me at all. I don’t like the Red Sox, for instance).

The point is you have now gone through an entire day without encountering a single new thing. Not one. And it seems to me that you could live this way more or less indefinitely … you can pretty much shut out anything that doesn’t fit into your small sphere of interests and beliefs. I remember a few years ago, I decided that I needed to stop listening to talk radio – I felt like it was adversely affecting the way I did my job. So I just stopped. And what stunned me is how invisible (for me) talk radio instantly became. I understand that it’s still going on, every day, all around the country, nonstop talk, but I don’t hear any of it, and I’m oblivious to it.

So what's the big deal? Well, here’s the rub: It may be the longer you live like this, the easier it is to believe that there ARE no new things, that everybody is pretty much just like you, that there are no other viable opinions, no other types of music or entertainment worth embracing, no other foods worth trying and so on. This sort of living isn’t new to our time – people have forever felt most comfortable in their own cocoon, surrounded by what they know and like, flanked by people who agree (or, at least, are so inept at arguing the other side that you feel more convicted after the arguments), surrounded by comfort.

But it also seems that it has never been easier than right now to live in your own world, reading your own thoughts, listening to your own music, watching your own television, eating your own foods, confirming your own beliefs. I remember the shock I felt when I read that those Tim LaHaye apocalyptic “Left Behind” books have sold more than 65 million copies. Sixty five million! First off, that’s quite a few more than The Soul of Baseball (nudge nudge).

More to today’s point – and, please, please, please, I am not criticizing the Tim LaHaye books because I know nothing about them and don't need to piss off the readers of the apocalypse – I do not have a single friend or friend of a friend that (as far as I’m aware) has read a single one of these books. So to me there is an entire circle of people in America that I know absolutely nothing about, that I have never gotten near, that I do not understand. I suspect they know nothing at all about the way I live either -- it’s very possible that people in this circle might not listen to the Smiths, eat Cocoa Krispies and read Thomas Frank.

OK, so what does this have to do with Billy Joel’s “Big Shot?” Well, naturally, I hate that song. I have never hidden my antipathy for Billy Joel, but I REALLY hate that song. “You had to be a BEEG shot, DINT-cha?” And while I was in the coffee shop, I realized that I had not heard that song in probably 10 or 15 years. I had no occasion to run across it (and would not have on this day either except I left my iPod at home). Not unlike the man in the blog scenario, I listen pretty exclusively to my iPod, I watch only my TV shows, I hang out with people who are quite like me, I check my Internet sites, I read the magazines that are likely to either reinforce my opinion or widen it. I do run into daily contradictions and a few thought-proving ideas just because of the nature of my job (often in the form of emails from people saying, “You are an idiot” and so on), but all in all, I don’t like the song “Big Shot” so I have managed to purge it from my life.

Is there anything wrong in this? No. It just makes me think of the interview between writer Nora Ephron and Graduate director Mike Nichols – he mentioned that he hated living in Los Angeles.

“Well, some people would say it’s easier living out there,” Ephron said.

“Yes it is,” Nichols said. “But who says that’s a good thing?”

Leaving on a jet plane ...

I'm getting ready to head to San Francisco for more Bonds magic -- nothing better than a good flight delay in Milwaukee to make your day -- and I read a comment by brilliant reader Mr. Clutch concerning my last blog. It reminded me that there was one more important point to make.

Here's the comment:

Joe, I understand your argument, but I have one important one important (I think) objection. On your list of talented black players, I don't believe I see a single pitcher. I know some black pitchers have been effective, but in general, the great majority of black players have been hitters. To what do we atrribute this? I have no idea, and I certainly don't wish to stereotype. It does seem to be a fact, however, and it must be considered. Even today, there are only two effective black pitchers I can think of (Willis and Sabathia).

I have heard this argument quite a bit -- although (and I want to make it clear this is NOT what Mr. Clutch is saying) I have usually heard it as a charge that Negro Leagues hitters weren't as good as they are sometimes made out to be because there have not been many great black pitchers through the years. It is, in fact, usually that very argument that leads to bring out my "Let's take a look at the 10 years after integration" case that I brought out in the last blog.

But I think it's important here to make a point that I only brushed the last time. Yes, there have been quite a few good to excellent black pitchers in the Major Leagues -- Bob Gibson, Fergie Jenkins, Vida Blue, Lee Smith, J.R. Richard, Mudcat Grant, Al Downing, Dwight Gooden, Mike Norris, Dontrelle Willie, Sam Jones among them.

But remember, any and all dark-skinned athletes were banned from play in the big leagues before 1947. This included dark-skinned Latin players as well. Luis Tiant's father pitched in the Negro Leagues, for instance. So, now, let's look at some dark skinned pitchers since 1947 who I suspect also would have played in Negro Leagues:

Luis Tiant, Mike Cuellar, Camilo Pascual, Juan Marichal, Pedro Martinez, Bartolo Colon, Joaquin Andujar, Jose Rijo, Dennis Martinez, Johan Santana, Carlos Zambrano, Javier Vazquez, Mariano Rivera, etc., etc.

Again, it's just part of the context. But I think it's realistic to think that having black pitchers would have had an effect on Ruth.

I'm going to try something here, and I have no idea if it will work ... but let's try to prove a point by picking an example. For not-entirely-random reasons, I'll choose Andy Van Slyke in 1992. Van Slyke had a very good seaosn that year. He hit .324 with 45 doubles, 12 triples, 14 homers, he scored 103 runs, drove in 89, stole 12 bases, won a Gold Glove. He finished fourth in the MVP balloting. A fine year.

Now, let's take him back pre-1947. I might get this wrong -- it's difficult to know exactly how light-skinned a player would have had to be to play in the pre-Robinson days -- so bear with me and please forgive any statistical misses.

Take him back to 1947, and you can more or less eliminate 83 at-bats. I figure he had these against Dennis Martinez, Sid Fernandez, Dwight Gooden, Ben Rivera (who Van Slyke spanked all year), Ramon Martinez, Chuck McElroy, Jose DeLeon, Ken Hill, Xavier Hernandez, Alejandro Pena, Lee Smith (I stopped with pitchers who faced him fewer than four times -- I mean I'm stuck in an airport, for crying out loud).

OK, he hit .289 against those guys (thanks to the 7-for-10 with triple and homer against Ben Rivera). So without those at-bats, Van Slyke hit .330. If you would just replace those pitchers and just use what he did against everyone else, his season total would have looked more like this.

.330 average, 202 hits, 49 doubles, 12 triples, 15 homers, 95 RBIs.

And this is assuming that the pitchers he faced were about the Major League average, which of course they would not be -- they would be pitchers from Class AAA and Class AA. So you could might even add a few more points to the average, a few more hits, a homer or two, who knows, maybe four or five RBIs, so the numbers could conceivably look like this:

.334 average, 206 hits, 51 doubles, 12 triples, 16 homers, 100 RBIs.

Voila, suddenly you have a Tris Speaker, Stan Musial, Al Simmons kinda year.

These numbers are a silly guess, of course, and probably way off. We're just playing around. But there's another point here too: Van Slyke finished fourth in the MVP voting that year. However, the three players who finished ahead of him (Barry Bonds, Terry Pendleton and Gary Sheffield) were all African American. So take them away, he's also the league MVP. He finished second in batting (to Sheffield) so give him a batting title. He finished fifth in OPS, but only Darren Daulton among the first four is white. He finished third in runs created (behind Bonds and Sheffield) so put him on top there too.

You see what I'm getting at here ... It isn't just that Babe Ruth might not have hit 714 homers had he played against men of color. It's that Oscar Charleston might have hit 745 homers and stolen 800 bases. It's that Josh Gibson may have hit 68 homers in a season. You are, after all, judged against the players of your time. Ruth is amazing because he was SO MUCH BETTER than anyone else of his time. But that may not have been so had black athletes been allowed in the game.

Anyway, this is all just guesswork and free-form thoughts ... something worth talking about while I chase Barry Bonds around the country.