Royals-Sox: Kendall in the Wind

Well, I see the Chicago Cubs just traded for Jason Kendall. I have a lot of respect for Kendall. This is a guy who has squeezed everything out of his body and has had a very good Major League career. He’s a catcher who never could throw. He could not hit with power. He grounded into a lot of double plays. He didn’t walk particularly often. He never really developed a reputation (as far as I know) as a great receiver who handled pitchers well.

And yet he has played catcher in the big leagues for 12 years, he has more than 1,800 hits, he’s a three-time All-Star and so on. How did he do it? Well, he did it about as unconventionally as anyone in recent memory. He was a catcher who could steal bases (from 1997 to 2002, he stole double digit bases every year – since the Deadball era, no other catcher has that long a streak). He got on base a lot, mostly because he put the ball in play (he twice led the league in fewest strikeouts per at-bat) and he got hit by a lot of pitches (he’s been hit by 212 pitches, seventh all-time). And he developed a reputation as a guy who played to win.

I cannot tell you how much I admire that – the man just invented a whole new category of player, the scrappy and speedy catcher who gets plunked. I’ve always been amazed by those people who have the imagination to create a whole new identity – the 6-foot-9 point guard (Magic), the unblockable blitzing linebacker (Lawrence Taylor), the bulldog sportswriter (Dick Young), the vicious sports talk show host (Pete Franklin), the annoying political hack who appears on television (take your pick), the comedian whose only talent is playing a drunk (Foster Brooks) and so on.

But, sadly, the magic is gone for Jason Kendall. He is in the midst of, quite possibly, the worst season in baseball history. I don’t mean this to be overdramatic – the man has a 46 OPS+. He’s hitting .226, his OBP is .262, his slugging percentage is .281. Even when you judge him by Kendall standards, he has only stolen three bases and hit by three pitches. It’s an absolutely abysmal year – and then you look at his catching and see that he has caught just 15 of 74 base runners. It’s hard to imagine anyone being worse than that, isn’t it?

Then again Cubs fans had grown used to watching Michael Barrett, who couldn’t hit, couldn’t throw and got into two fights in the dugout.

Editor's note: Are you guys going to give me credit for these headlines or what? I began my career as a copy editor in Charlotte and was well-known then for being the worst headline writer in the history of the world. But look at me now! Kendall in the Wind? Kason Point? Come on! Chris Berman eat your heart out.

Royals-Sox: Manny Being Happy

OK, there are bad pitches. And there are BAD pitches, all caps. For instance, in the fourth inning on Monday, Royals starter Brian Bannister was in a pretty good groove, and then he had three balls on Dustin Pedroia. I really like the way Bannister pitches – everything he throws seems to have a purpose. When you have spent much of your sports writing career watching Blake Stein, Ambiorix Burgos and Chris George pitch in their sort of abstract way, you appreciate a guy who is out there thinking and focusing and doing the most with his stuff.

Anyway, Bannister did not want to walk Pedroia. So he challenged him with an 87 mph high fastball, and Pedroia pulled it over the Green Monster. That was a bad pitch, but under the circumstances (I thought) understandable. Bannister is a pitcher who gets by on command, competitiveness and his wits. Every so often circumstances force him to simply throw his best and close his eyes. Pedroia got it. Tip the cap.

Two batters later, however, Bannister threw the same 87-mph meatball to Manny Ramirez, and now that was a BAD pitch. Bannister (as I knew he would) acknowledged this in his post-game comments to our own Bob Dutton: “That was a 2-1 pitch right down the middle,” he said. “That was my worst pitch of the night.”

What Manny Ramirez did with that pitch defies words. You have probably seen the highlight – he crushed the ball to center field. But "crushed" does not suffice, nor does "tattoo," "rip", "kill" or "destroy." It was, on television anyway, one of the hardest hit balls I have ever seen. In fact, I sent this email to Bill James, who was at the game:

Was that ball hit as hard as it appeared on television? I mean on TV it looked like one of the hardest hit balls I've ever seen. … Here was my favorite part, though: The camera closed in on Manny afterward, and I could have sworn I saw sort of a giggly look on his face; it was like an, "Oh my God, did I hit that ball hard or WHAT?" look. It was absolutely priceless. Maybe I just imagined it, but to me when you have Manny Ramirez – who has hit baseballs about as hard as anyone the last 25 years (or ever) – hit a ball so hard that even HE'S impressed by it, well, that's a BAD pitch.

Bill responded by saying that’s as hard as he’s ever seen Manny hit a ball – he placed it up there with homers he’s seen hit by Wily Mo Peña, Bo Jackson and one by Jose Canseco.

I can’t get that Manny look out of my mind either. Earlier in the game, Manny hit a hard line drive to right field – right at Mark Teahen – and Manny did not even take one step out of the batter’s box. Not even one step. He didn’t even PRETEND to JOG to first base. I’m really not some “these kids today need to run out ground balls” traditionalist -- I get the whole MannyBeingManny act -- but I have to say I was offended by that. I mean, make at least a token effort.

Three innings later, he hits a 973-foot rocket to center field and acts like a kid who just got away with something – pure joy, I thought. It s a crazy game. And Manny’s one crazy guy.

Royals-Sox: Mark ends with a K

First inning, Royals outfielder Mark Teahen struck out for the 84th time in 90 games. He also just came off a team-record 22 game strikeout streak. Now, I’m a big Teahen fan. I like the way he plays the game. He runs the bases well, he plays in an alert way all the time, he's very versatile in the field, he can get into streaks when he pulls inside pitches for doubles down the right field line and smacks outside pitches into the left-center gap for extra bases. When he's right, he's a very, very tough out

This year, though, Teahen's been a disappointment. He's getting on base pretty well, but he's also striking out like mad, and he's having a low-wattage power year (he only has five homers). I think this is fairly natural; he’s adjusting to the pressures and pitching patterns of being the best hitter in the Royals' lineup (heck, one year ago he was in the minor leagues and his career was much in limbo). I think, over the next few years, he becomes a .300 hitter, 15-20 homers, 30-35 doubles, 15-20 stolen bases – you know, solid seasons.

Still, you have to point out that this season, Teahen is on pace to strike out more than 140 times and hit fewer than 10 home runs. That is a rare combination – it has only happened twice berfore in baseball history. Here are the Top 5 (or Bottom 5, however you like it):

1. Benji Gil, 1995, 9 homers, 147 strikeouts
2. Rick Monday, 1968, 9 homers, 143 strikeouts
3. Ron LeFlore, 1975, 8 homers, 139 strikeouts
4. Bobby Knoop, 1967, 9, homers 136 strikeouts
5. Gary Pettis, 1986, 5 homers, 132 strikeouts

Teahen is on pace to hit 9 homers and strike out 149 times.

Here’s the reason Teahen's season stands out: Teahen, unlike those five, has batted in the third spot the whole year. He’s one of the very few stable parts of Buddy Bell's Royals lineup – DeJesus leads off, Mark Grudzielanek (when healthy) bats second, Teahen bats third, and then all hell breaks loose.

So you have a guy who is on pace to hit nine homers (his slugging percentage is .406) and strike out 149 times hitting in the "put-your-best-hitter-here" third spot every day. That really doesn’t seem like a promising sign for the offense, especially when the Royals cleanup hitters this year (all nine of them) are batting .251 with a .304 OBP and .401 slugging percentage. Ugh.

Royals-Sox: Kason Point

Editor’s Note: OK, we typed up a few random baseball thoughts Monday night while watching the TV broadcast of Boston’s Kason Gabbard (who?) throwing a three-hit shutout against the Royals. However, unlike our usual random thoughts column – where we throw all of our thoughts into one, long, rambling, blog – we’re going to try something new here and put each in a separate blog. Hey, we’re always experimenting here at TSOB.

-- I’m not kidding about that parenthetical “Who?” after Kason Gabbard’s name. Before the game began, I sent an email to Bill James with six words, “Who the heck is Kason Gabbard?” I have not heard back from Bill yet, but I’m sure his response will be a doosy. The guy looked like Jamie Glavine Rogers Lopat Ford.

Gabbard’s performance Monday (he generally threw his fastball in the 85 mph range) fits into this thought I’ve been having lately about the use of radar guns in baseball. I wrote about this in Sunday’s paper, and I don’t have a lot to add except to say that watching Gabbard baffle the Royals for nine innings with his assortment of changeups, curves and pretty well located fastballs reaffirmed my belief that pitching is still about upsetting timing. A big fastball certainly helps immensely. But it's not the only way to do it.

It seems to me that as teams look for market inefficiencies, this could be the new frontier -- pitchers with secondary pitches, above average command, control and below average radar gun readings. It seems to me that those guys are pretty available right now while so many people are staring at the radar gun.

In 1978, before the radar gun really took hold, you had a pretty good collection of successful pitchers who probably -- at least at that time -- had below average fastballs (Grimsley, Figueroa, Splittorff, Hooton, Niekro, Flanagan, the other Niekro, Sorensen, Knepper, Gura, McGregor, Caldwell, Perry, et. al). I know the game has changed some, but I suspect many of these guys could still get people out.

Postscript: I just heard back from Bill, and he was also impressed with Gabbard's performance. Apparently during the game John Henry told Bill he thinks that they should play the Army song whenever Gabbard pitches because "That Kason goes rolling along."

A Boras Client ...

The Star’s excellent young baseball writer Sam Mellenger wrote a very good story today on Royals No. 1 draft pick Mike Moustakas, who (by his quotes) seems to want to play professional baseball very much. The story says Moustakas never even thought about being anything other than a baseball player. That’s how much he loves the game. He’s using wood bats now, and he can’t get enough hitting in. A scout told me he plays with the kind of joy and intensity you only see in the very best.

We’re talking about one baseball-loving kid.

Still, I’d say at this point it’s, at best, a 50-50 shot that the baseball-loving kid will sign. The Royals do not seem willing to pay much above slot (slot money for the No. 2 overall pick is $3.1 million). Meanwhile, Moustakas’ agent is Scott Boras – wink-wink, nudge-nudge, say no more. We all know where this is going. There’s no way Boras will voluntarily sign the No. 2 pick in the draft for anything approaching slot money.

(“Slots are things you see in the mail room,” Boras said. I’ve heard him say that before, but it’s still pretty amusing. The guy has style – he’s sort of the Peter Lorre of sports agents).

(Put another way: If Mike Moustakas was willing to sign for slot money – which ain’t chicken feed, by the way – he could have hired anyone. He could have hired ME. I could have gotten him slot money, and I can’t even negotiate a free dessert when a waitress dumps Coke on me by mistake. You don’t hire Scott Boras to get you slot money. You hire Scott Boras when you want to turn the team upside down and shake the loose change from their pockets).

In the article, Moustakas’ father (Mike Sr.) brings up the name Matt Harrington. Everybody does these days – Harrington has become the poster boy for wasted opportunity. You probably know the story: Harrington was the stud pitcher coming out of high school; he was offered something like $4 million by Colorado (it wasn’t a straight $4 million, if I remember correctly. It was a complicated deal and also a very contentious negotiation where nobody even wanted to pick up the dinner check). Harrington turned it down, went back into the next year’s draft, was offered $1.2 million, turned that down, lost his fastball, etc. By the time I talked to Matt he was making like $12 bucks a month for the Fort Worth independent team.

(It should be said that Matt’s original agent was not Scott Boras – Matt signed with Scott later).

Last year, I went down to spend some time with Harrington in Fort Worth. Two things really struck me about Matt.

1. I really liked him; he seemed like a good guy who realizes he made a mistake and, at least outwardly, will not punish himself for the rest of his life.
2. He says that he felt powerless during the negotiations.

The second thing was a real eye opener. I mean, it seems clear from afar that while you hire an agent to handle things, it’s still your career. It’s your life. And there’s no way that you should allow your agent to make the biggest decisions. Right? But while this seems obvious from afar, it’s not quite so obvious for an 18-year-old kid who has 50 people talking at him all at once. Who do you believe? Who do you trust? What do you do? Are people lying to you? Are you worth more?

I can tell you from my own relatively insignificant financial dealings with my literary agent that these are complicated questions. My agent knows the book business – I don’t (as this Soul of Baseball blog that isn't about the book points out). He understands how it all works – I don’t. I trust him implicitly because I think he’s good, because I like him, because he’s been there before, because he seems to have my best interests at heart and, finally, because he’s the guy out there fighting for me. You can only imagine that in baseball, among young players, those feelings are multiplied many times.

In Matt’s case, his agent believed that promises were broken. The agent passed along his anger to the Harrington family, the family began to have bad feelings about the Colorado Rockies, negotiations were poisoned, and things spiraled downward from there. This is not to say that Matt doesn’t bear responsibility. He does. He told me that if he could do it all again he would have told everybody, “Enough! This is more money than I ever dreamed of making. Sign the deal and let me play ball.” But that was a 24-year-old man talking. At that time he was an 18-year-old kid. And he let his financial future be ruined.

Scott Boras adds another ingredient to the mix. He’s an intimidating guy. He’s intimidating because of his big reputation and successful history. And he’s just plain intimidating. When he tells you, “They’re trying to screw you here,” you will believe him. When he tells you that you DESERVE more than they’re offering, you will believe him. When he says that he will get you a lot more money and for a much better team, you have no choice but to believe him – he’s done it over and over and over again.

A few years ago, the Royals offered shortstop Rey Sanchez an unbelievable contract; I mean this word literally – you would not believe how much the Kansas City Royals offered Rey Sanchez. It was something like $11 million for three years. Sanchez had his weaknesses, of course. He has a lifetime .334 slugging percentage, for instance. He never walked. And I don’t know that I ever saw him dive for a ball. But he did have his charms; Rey as a shortstop had amazing, Velcro-like hands, quartz precision accuracy on his throws and in his three years in Kansas City, he was the best I ever saw at turning the double play.

Anyway, the Royals made him this ludicrous offer, and Sanchez/Boras turned it down. The Royals, fed up, traded Jermaine Dye for Neifi Perez (ouch) and dumped Sanchez on Atlanta. The next year Sanchez became a free agent, nobody wanted him, and he signed a measly one-year $700,000 deal with Boston. The next time I saw Sanchez was in Puerto Rico; he was working out. He wore Royals shorts, asked me to put in a good word for him with Kansas City management and cursed Scott Boras’ name.

(Boras would later say he encouraged Sanchez to sign with the Royals, but Rey wanted to test the free agent waters. Knowing Rey’s disposition, this is not entirely implausible. But the balance of history points to Boras being the culprit here).

Point is, Rey Sanchez wouldn’t stand up to Scott Boras and he was more or less an adult. What chance does an 18-year-old kid have of going against Boras’ will? Luke Hochevar briefly walked away from Boras last year when negotiations with the Dodgers stalled. He hired another agent who worked out a deal. But in the end, Hochevar went back to Boras. And in the end (as is most often the case) Hochevar made a lot more money.

So what will Mike Moustakas do? I don’t know. I suspect he will follow Boras' lead, and if the Royals don't pony up then he will go to USC for three years (or perhaps go to a community college and re-enter next year's draft). There's nothing wrong with this path -- this is America. Look: Scott Boras is the best in the business. An agent’s job is to get his clients the best deal, and that’s what Boras does. I don’t blame anyone for signing with Boras. I don’t blame anyone for getting as much money as they possibly can get.

BUT, I do believe this: When you sign with Boras, it seems to me that you relinquish the right to play the “I love baseball, and I would play it for free,” card. I don’t have any doubt that Mike Moustakas lives to play baseball, just as Sam’s article says. But, plainly, he doesn’t love it enough to play it for anything like $3.1 million. That’s why he hired Scott Boras.