10&5 Official Team Preview: Outdoor Baseball In Minnesota

The Twins, arguably, played the best baseball game of the entire 2009 year on their 163rd regular season game. It was the last glorious night in Metrodome Twins' history, as the Yankees completed the Division Series sweep against them in the final game in Metrodome history. Given that there hasn’t been a whole lot of movement with the Twins this offseason, except for the signings of Orlando Hudson and Jim Thome, one of the biggest questions will be, how will the Twins play in Target Field?

Let’s face it, given the rash of new ballpark openings and every sports architecture firm doing their best at play “balancing”, we simply don’t know how a ballpark will favor hitters or pitchers. The Mets had no clue how much their new ballpark played a role in David Wright’s power drought. The Yankees didn’t know they had the next band box. Bottom line is Target Field itself has the potential to make or break Minnesota. And let’s not yet talk about any home field advantage of playing outdoors in the cold of Minnesota for a potential playoff berth.

*Biggest Strength:

Their offense ranked 4th in on-base percentage, 3rd in batting average, and 4th in runs scored last year in the American League. Justin Morneau, Mike Cuddyer, and Jason Kubel will bring a fair amount of production, especially when anchored by reigning AL MVP Joe Mauer. Orlando Hudson will surely provide an offensive boost and a perennially hungry Jim Thome will add his spark. Put it this way, up and down the Twins lineup are hitters that give pitchers nightmares. Expect a lot of runs, unless the ballpark says otherwise.

*Biggest Weakness:

It’s easy to blame the pitching staff… but with the numbers they put up last year and the lack of movement in signing quality pitchers, you have to blame the pitching staff again. They surrendered 4.50 team ERA and gave up more homeruns than everyone except the Orioles in the American League. Carl Pavano cannot be their long term answer and the Twins are desperate to get Francisco Liriano back to his 2006 form. Luckily the Twins have a wonderfully-crafted offense to keep them in the game when their starting pitchers decide to take an early rest.

*Players to Watch Out For:

Jason Kubel’s Average OPS, Slugging, Homers, and RBIs have increased year over year for the past three years. He’s a relative unknown buried in a star powered offense, but another increase in production means he’s on Mauer’s level of offensive fortitude. If Kubel keeps working his magic, the Twins can be scary.

*Best Case Scenario:

Liriano finds his 2006 form, Carl Pavano finds his 2004 form, and Joe Nathan has his annual spectacular season (hoping his current pitching arm scare is just a scare). This combined with their hitting means they are a force in the American League. Should they hit a groove early on in the season and not need a 163rd game to get into the playoffs. Expect them to go deep. Way deep.

*Worst Case Scenario:

Target Field becomes Coors Field central. The Twins' ERA balloons to over 5.00 for the season. As good as their hitting is, the inconsistency of the pitching staff combined with the friendly confines of Target Field makes it impossible for the team to remain competitive in a division where the Tigers (now with a SOBER Miguel Cabrera) are ever looming. Read More!

In Defense Of Fantasy Baseball

First off, thanks to AJ for starting with the 2010 team previews, and to JP for getting this season rolling; the latter's post was provocative enough that I didn't feel satisfied with the comments section rejoinder that he requested, so here's my personal defense of fantasy baseball.

Baseball (and pretty much every audience-centric sport) retains its popularity due partly to the fact that it's fun to talk about it with other fans. The examples are obvious and subject to numerous writerly paeans: going to the stadium with your dad, watching the game at your friend's house or at your favorite bar with the colorful old locals who watched Willie Mays play, &c.

I believe the coolest part of fantasy baseball is how it widens the field of discourse. Prior the 2004 inauguration of my team, The Flying Stud Farm, I was guilty of the geographical myopia that infects most fans. There's no way I could have named for you the starting rotation on any American League team, but I'm pretty sure I knew what every starter on the Giants' favorite ice cream was at some point.

But with my involvement in fantasy baseball, suddenly the abilities of marginal players on other teams was of interest. Match-ups in games between the Royals and Rangers became interesting. In order to gain a competitive advantage in scouting new talent, I familiarized myself with each team's farm system and discovered the pleasures of following multiple levels of minor league baseball. I found out that explaining performance as the result of thinly disguised magic intangibles is way less fun than investigating the actual causes.

And while I will concede that this level of engagement does change one's rooting interests in many cases, I posit that it's usually from general apathy to active engagement. Someone who roots for his or her fantasy superstars over a hometown team is a self-centered douche, whose obnoxious behavior is due to vanity way more than any sort of structural flaw inherent in imaginary leagues. If you approach fantasy baseball like a real, passionate fan, it can make you a smarter fan. Read More!

10&5 Official Team Preview: Troubled Times - The Houston Astros

In the ebb and flow of baseball supremacy, bad teams are awarded higher draft rights in efforts to help offset their misfortunes and give the league competitive balance. Some teams use those picks well, manage their farm system carefully and build towards a prosperous future, understanding that it may take a few years of finishing sub .500 before they can even sniff a shot at glory. The Rays, Marlins, A’s and Twins have all been able to accomplish this over the last decade in spite of limited payrolls.

And then you have the Astros, the old Colt .45s, who stick to their guns long after it’s become apparent that they no longer fire. A decade of uninspired drafts, embarrassing personnel decisions and general asshattery from the front office has left them a shell of a baseball organization that is staring at only one possible future: the Houston Astros are going to be bad for a long time.

Gone from last year’s squad that finished 74-88 is Miguel Tejada, leaving a gaping hole at shortstop. The projected Opening Day starter there right now is Tommy Manzela, whose five career Major League at-bats evidently don’t scare Astros' General Manager Ed Wade (or chairman/CEO Drayton McLane). Of course, Wade is the man who traded Brad Lidge, then swapped the entire farm system for the now-departed Tejada and Jose Valverde.

Meanwhile, Pedro Feliz takes over at third base. Yikes.

With Lance Berkman already hurt in Spring Training, it may be time to dig in your heels for a long season on the gulf. Hey, we’ve gotta start these previews somewhere - it might as well be at the bottom.

* Biggest Strength:

Starting pitching. Seriously. Well, maybe. Roy Oswalt was a top-five starter in the National League until last year. His previous worsts: 14 wins, 3.54 ERA. Last year, 8 wins, 4.12 ERA. His WHIP was still pretty good at 1.24, but he matched the lowest GO/AO ratio of his career at 1.19, a troubling sign. Wandy Rodriguez is coming off a career year that saw him shatter his highs in wins and strikeouts and finally return to a groundball pitcher after two years in Zito-land. Brett Myers strengthens the middle of the rotation and gives the team another veteran, albeit a mediocre one. The Brandon Backe experiment appears to have finally reached an end, allowing Bud Norris and Felipe Paulino to show if there is any promise (any at all will do, really) coming out of the farm system.

* Biggest Weakness:

Everything else. Honestly, your starting infield outside of Berkman is Kaz Matsui, Manzela, Feliz, and J.R. Towles. The Sacramento Rivercats will field something like Chris Carter, Adrian Cardenas, Eric Patterson, Gregorio Petit and Josh Donaldson. I would take that crew RIGHT NOW over what Houston will run out in April. Carlos Lee still patrols the outfield, but after him and Berkman, nobody scares you in that lineup. Matt Lindstrom is slated to close. Enough said.

* Players to Watch Out For:

At the Big League level, Hunter Pence intrigues me. He seems like a steady 30 2B/25 HR type of hitter and a good outfield defender, but not necessarily a superstar you can build your team around. There is no help coming from Triple-A - the highest OPS of any hitter from Round Rock with at least 150 at-bats was .765. Jason Castro is on a lot of people’s radar as the catcher of the future, but he’s a lot farther from being Major League ready that he’s being given credit for. You have to like Korean relief pitcher Chia-Jen Lo, if for no other reason than he uses “Low” by Flo Rida as his entry music. Classic.

* Best Case Scenario:

Oswalt returns to form, Wandy repeats, Myers finds second life, the youngsters hold their own, Pence-Berkman-Lee generate enough offense to win some games and the back end of the bullpen doesn’t self-destruct every third day. The team floats around even for a while, but finally realizes they can’t compete. They ride off quietly into fourth place in the Central, knowing that it won’t be until 2011 that Oswalt and Berkman will hit contract years (2012 for Lee) and maybe the Astros can actually sling them to a contender to help rebuild themselves to be competitive for, say, 2015.

* Worst Case Scenario:

Everything goes as above. The Astros are competitive enough near the break that ownership gives away their best (only?) remaining farm system pieces for Adrian Beltre in an ill-advised shot at a division crown. Failure, demise. The organization is set back an additional 2-3 years and will not have a chance to be competitive again for another decade. Read More!

My Personal Fantasy Baseball Strike

That’s it. I’ve had it. Don’t bother sending me your invites to your Yahoo, Sportsline, or MLB.com leagues. This year I am officially on strike. No more fantasy baseball for me.

You might ask “Why John? Why abandon leagues you have been a part of for nearly a decade?” To which I offer you a very simple answer. I can’t stand ‘em anymore and I hate what they do to even the best baseball fans.

Fantasy baseball takes every day good-natured fans and turns them into uber-cynical, maniacal, stat-oriented bastards. Instead of adding to the game of baseball, they detract from it, making us analyze such idiotic things such as VORP. Seriously. What the fuck does VORP have anything to do with anything in real life? I no longer want to go through another baseball season cheering against my own team because I have Albert Pujols in the lineup. I no longer want to feel the responsibility of a Major League GM when my own job is hard enough (yes, I blog and I have a real job).

I want to go through a season, where I can experience baseball as a true fan, again. A season where I could enjoy the game for what it is, and the little bit of joy it brings to my life.

So this year, don’t bother inviting me to your draft party (unless you just want me to sit around and drink your beer). For my perennial team, The Postal Workers, will not be taking the field.

Now I know my fellow bloggers will disagree with me, so comment below and may the debate begin.

Read More!

That Loving Feeling

Well, it's mid-February, which means it's that certain special time of year again. Love is in the air, and no, I don't mean because of this.

It's that one time of the year when you are asked to take a day and think about the people in your life who mean the most to you. It is a time for reflection on the experiences you have had together- the good ones and the bad, the ecstasy and the heartbreak, the high drama and the love that can only come from one place.

So turn to your loved ones this week, look them in the eye so they know you are about to tell them something important. Smile, and say softly the words that you don't get to say enough, the ones you have been waiting to tell them throughout this deep, dark winter: "Pitchers and catchers reported to Spring Training this week".

If they don't smile, well, they aren't worth the money you just wasted on flowers and chocolate.

The wait is over. Happy baseball season everybody! Read More!

The 2009 New York Yankees Are Without Merit Or Honor

The New York Yankees defeated the Philadelphia Phillies to win the 2009 World Series.

Of course they did. They had the best team. But you must remember how they won: they bought the best team.

Here is what the 2009 New York Yankees hammered home to me: what you've earned will always be dearer that what you've bought.

The Yankees bought the best players available before the 2009 season began. This is a fact. They purchased the two best pitchers on the market, and the best infield slugger while already holding players that only the most monied Major League Baseball franchises could hope to pay.


One can't begrudge the Yankees for doing this, the rules of MLB allow it. One can't begrudge the players to go to the place that would pay them the most. Players would be fools not to sign with the team gathering the most juice. Simple.

Baseball is like the United States Of America if you care to look at either closely enough: run by the rich for the rich, who are attended to by those who've convinced themselves that they can earn their own way up the ladder. And as with any system in which the rich only get richer to the detriment of all, neither MLB nor the USA are sustainable in their current form.

I want to be wrong about this. I don't like what I see. There is so much joy in and around the game of baseball. Never forget the beauty of the game. There is so much possibility in the idea of the United States Of America. That must never be taken for granted.

When the final out of the 2009 World Series was recorded by 1B Mark Teixeira -- the best infield slugger available before this season -- the 2009 Yankees capered and cavorted happily about the field wearing the outfits of all the ghosts that had worn them before.

We remember The Babe and The Yankee Clipper. Mr. October, The Scooter, and The Iron Horse. Will 2009's mercenaries be fondly remembered? "Ol' Purple Lips?" "The Mountainous Merc With The Most Pinstripes?" Jerry Seinfeld once compared the mutable state of baseball rosters to "cheering for laundry." This is where MLB is now, and where it has been for a time, and where it looks to stay. The ideals of loyalty seeded in our youth are worn down like a millstone along the way. A reduction process.

In a post-win interview on the field, Teixeira said that it had all worked out because God had a plan for him. No, son; the decider here was of a distinctly non-celestial variety: NYY General Manager Brian Cashman. You merely earned your way into the Yankees' plans. The only question was when your contract came up. It was up in 2009, you were available, and you filled a need for the Yankees. That's how you won.

That's how the 2009 New York Yankees represent everything that is wrong with professional sport.

The players earned it? Yes, they did. As surely as you could earn a victory in poker by pre-selecting the best cards from the deck. Other franchises may have some good players, but when one team holds most of the best guys, that team will win more times than not. MLB's rules permit this. It is dishonorable.

There's no parity. It is not fair. Neither is life.

That is what I took away from the celebratory scene on the field last Wednesday. And that is what will be remembered: that the Yankees bought their win in the 2009 World Series. That it meant so much less.

Photos via AP. Chart via New York Magazine.
Read More!

Welcome to Chase: 2009 World Series Game 2 Preview

--Sure, the grit and surgical control displayed by Cliff Lee translated to one of the finest World Series complete games in modern baseball memory. Fans marveled at Cliff's nonchalance in fielding hot shots back to the box, in a fashion altogether resembling a Subway employee scooping tuna fish into a bread tube. Best of all, though, was Lee's assassin-like calm at the post-game mic, recycling the word "ironic" when a reporter asked him to write her lede for her about his string of New York successes.

--CC could still have won the game, but he ran into the Lee buzzsaw. Chase Utley apparently sees his backspin like none other, or has employed guess hitting to its utmost effect. Some batters can assimilate a scouting report to a superior degree, regardless of the elite status of the pitcher. We appear to have one of those cases here.

--The postseason lens again humbles the best umpires in the world. Nonetheless, the confusion about the line-drive double play was largely the Yankees' fault, although first-base ump Jeff Nelson failed to notice that Ryan Howard had kept his toe on the bag to haul in Jimmy Rollins' throw.

--Rollins disrupts Phil Hughes on his way to stealing second, and the Yankee pen falls apart for the Philly offensive flood.

--So A-Rod whiffed not once, not twice, but thrice against Lee. That's no choke. Lee would have struck out every member of Murderer's Row I, the way he was rumbling. The Babe never saw movement like that at 91 MPH.

GAME 2 PREDICTION: A lot of doubt has been hung around the neck of A.J. Burnett, but he will locate well and try to pound Howard away (this is when Howard's spray power might come to the forefront). Despite no Don Zimmer to throw around like a rag doll, Pedro Martinez will befuddle and confuse the NYY order until the sixth, when he'll have to put the game in the hands of the pen. Yankee magic in the final at-bat may well earn them the split. NEW YORK 4, PHILADELPHIA 3. Read More!

Serious Business: The 2009 Fall Classic Preview

PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES: Despite showers in tonight's Bronx forecast, Ryan Howard likely savors the opportunity to explore Yankee Stadium's right-field porch. He remains more likely, though, to explore the opposite field more often. Jimmy Rollins has again partially atoned for a middling regular season with a laudable postseason effort, and he must find a way to reach base in the late innings, because the Phils' chance to defend will partly rest on the clutch hitting of the bottom of their order. Carlos Ruiz comes to mind; Joe Girardi will have no qualms about pitching around more established RBI men to face Ruiz in a critical spot. Cliff Lee should pitch well enough to win at least one of his battle royales with CC Sabathia; this is not to say he'll take a W in either Game 1 or Game 4. Charlie Manuel cannot afford to under-manage.

NEW YORK YANKEES: By the same token, Girardi cannot afford to over-manage, especially against either Chase Utley or Raul Ibanez. In the AL playoffs, against a self-destructive Angels club, Girardi's insistence on turning real life into a video game - wherein every sim pitcher will always be rested, healthy, and warmed up - turned out in the Yanks' favor. I've heard these nasty rumors about NYY's true plan of a "four-man rotation" featuring CC, A.J. Burnett, Andy Pettite and Mariano Rivera. In a video game, that sounds awesome. In October and possibly November, not so much. But always save an arm, Mastah Chief Girardi, for the inevitable showdown with Matt Stairs, who in a past life would be a shoo-in pick to DH every AL game of this Series.

WHAT MCCARVER & BUCK WOULDN'T SEE COMING: A defensive gem by Pedro Feliz turning a game around; a defensive miscue by Robinson Cano affording an opportunity for Derek Jeter to look good on a subsequent play in the same inning; Alex Rodriguez cracking under the pressure of the Philly rowdies who, from the front rows, will use their words to insult Kate Hudson until A-Rod thinks she looks like Ruth Buzzi.

GAME 1 PREDICTION: Lee bends but does not break, leaving the Phillies with a chance to win. CC gives up at least one bomb but overall outshines him, and Rivera resoundingly shuts the door at the end. NEW YORK 4, PHILADELPHIA 2. Read More!

The Phillie Pharm

When I first looked at the eight post-season teams entering the 2009 Major League Baseball playoffs, I found it hard to root for any one of them. As an Oakland A's fan with professional ties to both the Cubs and Padres, I was pretty much out of luck. A quick look at my options left me as uninspired as I could ever remember entering October.

The Evil Empire was out, as were the Angels, (see: die-hard Oakland A's fan). The Red Sox had lost all of their pre-2004 appeal as an underdog, spending nearly as much money in payroll as the Yankees. Sure the Twins' frantic scamper to make the playoffs was entertaining, but anything short of a sweep in the first round at the hands of the Bronx Bombers seemed unlikely.

When I first looked at the National League, I didn't fare much better in finding a surrogate rooting interest. The Dodgers were out, given the Manny scandal coupled with my continued belief that Joe Torre is the most overrated manager in baseball and, well, Kirk Gibson. No, it hasn't been long enough. The Cardinals were somewhat interesting as a choice, but with my Cubs ties and a lingering feeling that the redbirds never really deserved 2006, St. Louis was out. The Rockies were intriguing, as the true underdog, with a shot at another Rocktober, but much like the A's post-Jason Giambi, it just never felt the same without Matt Holliday. That left only the Phillies, the defending champs who had already tasted glory in 2008.

I almost considered just scrapping the whole thing (gasp!) and waiting for next year. Nevertheless, I found myself rooting (albeit mildly) for Philadelphia. Maybe it was the presence of Jimmy Rollins, I pondered, the Alameda native who gave me a a hometown hero to root for. But I knew it was more than that. I just didn't realize why.

It wasn't until the day after Philadelphia's thrilling Game Four victory that it hit me. I was watching an interview with Ryan Howard from the night before. He was asked about Carlos Ruiz, the catcher who was almost an afterthought on this roster, who came scampering around all the way from first base on Rollins' game-winning, two-run double to propel the Phillies to a 3-1 lead in the NLCS. Howard laughed, saying "I haven't seen him run that fast since Clearwater."

My mind flashed back to a conversation I had a couple of weeks prior. I was in New Orleans, attending the Minor League Baseball Promotional Seminar when i ran into an executive at an open bar event during the first night of what turned out to be four steady days of drinking. We chatted for a minute about the upcoming NFL weekend (the Jets were in town to play the Saints... remember when that was the Super Bowl preview? Yeah, me neither) before the talk turned to baseball.

We discussed the farm systems of the teams for which we both worked, and compared similarities and differences. He told me about how his organization had made sure that they brought their young talent up together, level by level. They had essentially grown up together, some guys even being held back longer than the normal progression to form the real core of a team. He gushed when he talked about how great the group of guys had become, maturing into responsible, professional men of the game. As someone who downplays the importance of chemistry and readily dismisses ideas like "mystique" and "aura" in favor of hard, statistical evidence, I was nevertheless impressed by the organization's commitment to fostering a sense of community and raising their athletes as brothers.

After a nice chat, the executive and I shook hands and traded business cards. It turned out he was the Assistant General Manager of the Philadelphia Phillies Florida LLC. He worked for the Spring Training operation, as well as the team's Florida State League affiliate, the Clearwater Threshers.

He had seen Howard and Ruiz play together in A-Ball, along with Cole Hamels and Ryan Madson in 2003. It was hard to imagine a Yankees' minor league employee relating a story of any of their current roster playing together in the minors.

After all, in this day and age, there are no real hometown teams. Players are drafted from all over the country- and signed from all over the world- by each organization. Sure, the occasional attempt is made by a franchise to take talent closer to home, to create that sense of civic or regional pride (see: the Atlanta Braves and the first round of the MLB Draft). But really, the sense of community within a team is gone after college, and arguably past high school. The only way to build that same sense is to create it again from within.

The Phillies' commitment to that sense of team and community is something I can get behind. Guys like Howard, Utley, Rollins, Ruiz, Hamels and Happ are the core of that team. Sure they have had help from veterans and free agents, but everything starts with them. It reminds me of those 2000-2001 Oakland A's- guys like Tejada, Chavez, Giambi, Hernandez, Hudson, Mulder, Zito- who came up through the system together and built something special as a unit.

Of course, that team never won a championship. They were forced to go through the Yankees both years that the team was still in tact, losing in the deciding game both times.

Here's to hoping the Phillies can do better. Read More!

The Best Idea I've Heard Possibly Ever

"If Bud Selig had any balls, tomorrow would be a doubleheader." --J.E. Hutchinson Read More!

Life's Omniscient Narrators

First, a solemn reminder of the legacy of Joe Buck, courtesy of the fine fellows over at Kissing Suzy Kolber. Having had my share of brushes with broadcast royalty, I see no reason to doubt the veracity of that woeful tale, which concerns Buck's vasectomy, his awkward insurgency on a girl in a club, and other boner-legend moments. However, KSK must believe that what happens in Vegas need not stay in Vegas. Leaving Las Vegas is one of my favorite motion pictures, and if you happen to ask me about the coolest way to do oneself in, I'll suggest you watch or re-watch that film and Nicolas Cage's Oscar-winning suicide bender.

If Joe Buck was having his mid-life crisis last year, I understand. I had mine when I was 23. And it's my belief that Tim McCarver is at least partly responsible for Buck's mid-life crisis.

In a separate post, you'll note my YouTube send-up of a fairly benign (by his standards) yet mind-boggling statement uttered by McCarver on CBS during the final inning of the 1993 World Series. McCarver, who condescended to us by entitling his 1999 how-to tome Baseball for Brain Surgeons and Other Fans, holds the distinction of having commentated on a League Championship Series in every year of my life. I was born in the 1983-84 offseason, and McCarver's first LCS assignment came as a field reporter for ABC in 1984. Tim broke Curt Gowdy's record in 2003 when he called his 13th World Series on national teevee.

My earliest televised sports memories begin around 1988, when I derided my Ohioan preschool aide Cammy for wearing her Bengal slippers during the week of Super Bowl XXIII. (Yes, I do remember preschool, and quite well, actually.) Among my most prized possessions was a beige Fisher-Price cassette player/recorder with a carrying handle and a built-in microphone. At one point - it had to be early in 1989, because Hank Greenwald was working for the Yankees in 1987 and 1988 - I brought the recorder over to the RCA set in the living room and taped Hank's post-game recap on a Giants telecast, along with a Budweiser commercial whose jingle I incessantly sang for days on end at Lakeside Presbyterian Center for Children.

As Joe Buck will tell you, Bud and baseball just go together, don't they? Even when you're four years old.

It's never been a secret to anyone who knows me, or knows of me, that the ultimate mission of my existence, a mission beginning with that Fisher-Price tape recorder, a mission of which I have never lost sight, is to broadcast Major League Baseball for a living, specifically Giants baseball. As I wend my way slowly toward the top of the mountain, I have always taken note of the good, the bad and the ugly in our business. I am not writing this to throw stones; I don't live in a glass house. I am still more or less a nobody, although I do presently work the radio broadcasts for the King Kong of high school football programs on a heritage station in a major market.

One day, if we haven't yet blown ourselves to smithereens, I would like nothing more than for a young whippersnapper to take me to task on his blog for being unfunny and out of touch with my audience and my sport. If that happens, it means I made it to The Show.

Whether or not I succeed at my life mission, I am first and foremost a baseball fan. And as a baseball fan - and I speak for a great many of you out there - I am dog sick and dog tired of hearing Tim McCarver every October.

To their credit, Joe and Tim acknowledged that Saturday night's ALCS tilt at Yankee Stadium was a real cracker, albeit in such droll and distant tones as to imply irreverence bordering on mockery. ("What a game." Yawn.) Remember, Joe blithely confessed last summer to Colin Cowherd - whose crimes against sports broadcasting need not be rehashed in this space - that he barely pays attention to baseball games he isn't scheduled to cover.

Tuning out the sports nexus when you're off the clock is by no means unprecedented in our business. In an interview some years back, Kevin Harlan said that when his NBA on TNT work wraps up for the season, he and his family go on vacation for several weeks and he pays zero attention to sports of any kind. When Bill King was out of season during his heyday with the Warriors, Raiders and Athletics, he would go completely off the grid and spend most of his free time on his sailboat.

Joe Buck, however, never intimated that he ignores baseball because he seeks refuge. He intimated that he doesn't care about baseball because not caring is cool. Very high-school of you, Joe, very Hollywood. Joe has also rationalized his lethargy as a means of avoiding the grind his late father Jack endured. But see, nobody ever questioned Jack Buck's love of baseball or football. With his son, the issue seems to come up all the time.

However, for all his dourness and disenchantment, Joe Buck doesn't bother me so much. Not compared to Timmy Ballgame.

In Saturday night's third inning, McCarver believed he would achieve his moment of zen, his golden chance to tell the nouveau school of baseball analysts to go to hell and wait. When Derek Jeter homered, FOX flashed an on-screen graphic about baseball's postseason home-run champions. Jeter is in the top five, as is Manny Ramirez. All fans are duty-bound to admire Jeter's breathtaking consistency and brilliance at the plate in postseason play. You also have to remember that Jeter has always played for the best team money can buy. Manny didn't always.

But, clutch hitter though he may be, Jeter is no prize pupil on defense. In a sane and rational world, he'd have moved to third base the instant Alex Rodriguez came to town. I'll let my brethren handle the number-crunching - I always do - but statistically, Jeter continues to rate among the worst defensive shortstops in MLB.

For the first 12 innings of ALCS Game 2, 10&5 contributors John Padua and James Hutchinson sat with me on JP's couch inside his SoMa flat, as we are wont to do at weekends, enjoying the telecast on the apartment's wall-size projector. (We dashed out the door at the end of the 12th and caught the 13th at Bloodhound, where we chanted "Daaarrrrylll" until the Dodger fan and her two pals next to me flew the coop.)

At 5:04 p.m. on October 17, 1989, five-year-old Scott was taking a bath in preparation for World Series Game 3, while Dad and Uncle Paul were rocking and rolling in Candlestick's upper deck, directly above McCarver, Al Michaels and Jim Palmer, who nearly fell out of the ABC booth because they were sitting on the counter with the window open to do the pre-game on-camera segment. Next door, Jack Buck saw his CBS Radio partner Johnny Bench duck and cover, and Jack quipped, "If you had moved that fast when you played, you wouldn't have hit into so many double plays."

At 5:04 p.m. on October 17, 2009, JP brought his clock radio from his bedroom and we attempted to catch Jon Miller and (gulp) Joe Morgan on ESPN Radio. But DirecTV was almost 15 seconds behind Miller's call, so we had to scrap that plan. We then decided to put the FOX audio on low, and keep the chatter among ourselves fresh and lively, the better to neutralize Buck and McCarver.

Sooner or later, one or the other was bound to say something ridiculous, and McCarver obliged when he started in about Jeter. I haven't the benefit of DVR from whence I write, but clear as crystal in my mind is McCarver's incendiary remark about Jeter's critics, who figured last year that Mr. November might be washed up.

"Most of them are silent now, hiding under a rock in a cave somewhere."

Well, guess what. We are them. You were talking to us, weren't you, Tim?

Though it's in a sketchy part of town, JP's apartment is no cave. But I'll cop to acting like a caveman in one sense and one sense only. A benefit of watching a sporting event on a projector is your ability to hurl pop tops, wadded-up napkins, ping-pong balls and other objects at the people on screen. At that moment, after McCarver referred to us as prehistoric rubes, we threw everything we had at the X-mo replay of Jeter's home run swing. (Later during an A-Rod at-bat I nailed him in the groin with a bottle cap.) Buck readily buttressed McCarver's opus with a flip comment about scouts who love Jeter in the seventh game of a World Series, or some such bollocks.

Hutchinson [as Buck]: "And here's a stock photo."
Armstrong [as McCarver, viewing the obligatory shot of the Empire State Building]: "Joe, ain't that a tall building?"

And then in the eighth inning, in a game notable for both grand defense - Johnny Damon pulling his weight, for one - and jaw-dropping errors, Jeter booted a tailor-made double-play ball.

The timbre of McCarver's voice was reduced to a whimper. McCarver did not renege on his earlier titanic statement, the one that would once and for all topple Bill James' house of cards. He meekly recapitulated Jeter's muff - "the ball comes up on Jeter" - and waited for the moment to pass. Cavemen everywhere rejoiced. Read More!

Tim McCarver Stopped Making Sense A Long Time Ago

Read More!

I Hope My Kids Don't See This

-The fragrance worn on the field by your San Francisco Giants: Lefty-Righty Obsession by Bruce Bochy.

-First it seemed obsessive to include Randy Winn's consistent .260 bat in the middle of our lineup. Instead now I believe it is the establishment attempting to squeeze every last drop out of the ol' workhorse before he heads for other pastures in the winter.

-When Nate Schierholtz reaches safely, I say, "Eat your pancakes, Nate the Great," in homage to the Marjorie Sharmat series of child detective novels.

-Most of you wouldn't care, but the most important baseball book released this year was Bruce Weber's As They See 'Em: A Fan's Travel in the Land of Umpires. It mostly told me what I already knew: you have to possess a tweak in the brain to want that job, as well as too much luck.

-I saw Safeco Field back in May. It's pretty, safe, and non-threatening, like the rest of Seattle. And all over the yard, it's Ken Griffey this, Ken Griffey that, because that's largely all they've got to daydream about. At least the MLS Sounders are around to keep Seattleites company.

-Ever wonder why you never see Matt Cain and cartoon funnyman Bobby Hill in the same place at the same time?

-Yet another year with home-field advantage for the American League thanks to Bud's idiotic decision to have that hinge on the outcome of the All-Star Game. Hurts my spleen just thinking about it.

-To the surprise of many, Ron Washington has the Rangers within striking distance. Too bad their offense decided to take an early holiday.

-Well, the A's handed the Cardinals the pennant vis-a-vis Matt Holliday.

-The culture of expectations has reanimated at AT&T Park. Cheering for Barry Zito? That never ever happened before.

-Stephen Strasburg and Scott Boras took WSH to the cleaners, natch.

-A. Bartlett Giamatti is still dead.

-David Eckstein : starting second baseman :: Rutherford B. Hayes : president of the United States

-Last night's Yank-Jay brawl: reinforcement that no matter how much money, power, fame, games on the rest of the American League East, or empty front-row seats that the Bronx Bombers possess, they will always assume you're undermining them and act accordingly. And of course, it ain't Papa Torre in there to pacify everyone now. It's Mastah Chief Joe Girardi, who still wants to rumble at any opportunity. Jesse Carlson earned that knot on his forehead, although he should have truly been backing up the throw, not moseying over to the wrong side of the plate, standing on the train tracks to await Jorge Posada's arrival. And you had to bray like a mule after Posada's sheepish statement that he hopes his kids won't see him throwing the weakest forearm since A-Rod slapped the ball out of Bronson Arroyo's glove.

-Fire Joe Morgan, to which my blog owes its namesake, roasts "scrappy ballplayers" like Eckstein in their triumphant reunion on Deadspin today. Holla back. Read More!

Madison's Avenue

The San Francisco Chronicle's Henry Schulman reported at 3:00 p.m. that Giants superstar farmhand Madison Bumgarner might be taking Tim Lincecum's start. By 3:20 KNBR knew about it. By 3:50, as of this writing, Giants skipper Bruce Bochy is speaking to the press about Lincecum's sore back and the meteoric, surprising promotion of prize pupil Bumgarner, who went 12 up and 2 down with a 1.85 ERA in 25 appearances (24 starts) with High-A San Jose and Double-A Connecticut this summer.

Folks who ponied up to watch a Franchise start tonight against Your Padres (GG, Ted Leitner) will pull off their iPods upon arrival at 24 Willie Mays Plaza to discover that the newest member of the Giants family - though not nearly as new as Giants radio man Dave Flemming's son, whom Dave's wife Jess birthed over the weekend - will skip all the dress rehearsals and proceed immediately to opening night at the Philharmonic.

Youth definitively and righteously wasted on the young. It's the Giants' way.

Other deep thoughts, cheap shots and Bon Scotts:

-Brad Penny is the embodiment of Karl Stiglitz, the most Basterdly of all Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds. He is the fireman. Adrian Gonzalez barely admired his 36th tater of the season off Penny yesterday, and Penny went all Roger-Clemens-on-Mike-Piazza on the poor lad. Penny came here on a mission from God to eradicate all National League West foes. His scheduled Saturday start (though now it too might be shifted) against the True Blue should be the stuff of legend.

-Prince Fielder has received a free coupon for a buzzcut upon his first sashay into the batter's box against the Giants in 2010.

-Remember Matt Williams lost the third base job in 1989, took his lumps and hugged it out in Triple-A Phoenix for a few months, then came back to join the party? Eugenio Velez has enjoyed a similar maturation process. He's figured it out.

-We had consensus among the rank-and-file that Juan Uribe would have to earn the late Jose's famous moniker and accompanying chorus refrain. He has.

More later. Yardbird is headed to the yard with his kin. Read More!

Come Back Thome

On August 31, Kenny Williams, the irreverant executive that he is, took a page straight out of a seventh-grade girl's spiral-bound handbook. Instead of studying the rosters of farm systems around the league and placing phonecalls to those that had young talent to trade him for his aging veterans, he made a list. On this list he put every player of his team whom he considered available on the final day to make a waiver deal. It was essentially a note, passed through the back row of class to all his buddies, like Ned Colletti, that read, for each of the players on the list:

DO YOU LIKE ME? CHECK ONE:

YES [ ]
NO [ ]
MAYBE [ ]

Classy.

Well, good old Ned checked a "Yes" for aging left-handed slugger Jim Thome, while Kenny Boy got the Rockies to bite on Jose Contreras. It was a pretty nifty little trick- dispensing with all that "homework" usually involved in trade talks- until we all saw how little the South Sox got in return.

After decimating their farm system by giving up their top four pitchers in a couple of disastrous trades with the A's and Padres over the last two years, the South Siders were in desperate need of some top level talent to restock the farm system. So in trading the man currently ranked 12th on the all-time home run list, you would expect at least a decent mid-level prospect in return, right? Needless to say, that didn't happen. Instead, they got a 25-year-old mired in A-Ball with a career OPS of less than .700. Yikes.

Meanwhile, Colorado continued to employ the "well-you-were-a-shitty-pitcher-in-Chicago-so-you-should-be-great-here" strategy for their season in acquiring Contreras, who leads the American League with 12 losses. Williams may have made off slightly better in his returns here, but again has shown us again how short-sighted he can be (even while off-loading veterans!) in whom he took in return.

Brandon Hynick is a 24-year-old who has spent all season at Triple-A Colorado Springs and tossed two seven-inning shutouts this year, including a perfect game against Portland on July 30th. Sounds pretty good right? We'll take him!

Of course, outside of those two starts he is just 8-9 with a 4.21 ERA and has struck out only 92 in 155 innings. Hmm... kind of reminds you of a poor man's version of someone else...

The point is, Williams threw in the towel on his season for the same reason he makes most of his decisions- to prove a point. Not to make his team better for the future, or even save money (the Sox sent cash to the Dodgers to offset Thome's remaining salary). Just because he wanted to. It will be fun to see Williams says about Jake Peavy once he realizes he won't pitch again until next year. Perhaps he'll start spreading nasty rumors about him, or ban him from sitting at the same lunch table.

Whatever he does, I know this much: I just can't wait to see what junior-high tactic he will employ next. Read More!

A Brief Thought Before Giants-Phillies

Shaun Wright-Phillips, winger for English Premier League side Manchester City, has in soccer circles developed a reputation for streakiness: he can serve as a bolt of lightning for his club at times, but when playing away from Manchester - and especially on the continent in European competitions - Wright-Phillips faces stern criticism for turning into the invisible man. It's as though Shaun cannot fully function when he plays in away matches.

Unlike the young and energetic Wright-Phillips, who carries some heavy expectations as the adopted son of legendary English striker Ian Wright, the young and energetic 2009 San Francisco Giants faced no such expectations coming out of Scottsdale in the spring. Yet, judging by the Giants' road record as of September 1 (28-38), the homesickness neurosis seems just as prevalent. The Giants' reputation for visiting skittishness, especially playing on Eastern Time, precedes them as they engage tonight in the club's most important road trip in five years.

The Giants' hosts this evening, the defending world champion Philadelphia Phillies, endure the exact opposite neurosis - just 34-30 at Citizens Bank Park, and an astonishing 44-21 as a visiting team. (The latter counterbalances San Francisco's commendable 40-26 mark at AT&T Park.)

I remind you of these facts, ladies and gentlemen, to briefly illustrate the difference between playing in Philly, whose fans maintain perenially unreasonable expectations, and The City, whose fans are largely pleased if the Dodgers don't do a rain dance on the Giants' faces. We never expected as much of Alex Smith in a lifetime as Philly fans expect of Donovan McNabb every waking hour of his life. Then again, all Donovan McNabb, when healthy, has done is to sustain his status as one of the best five quarterbacks in the NFL in every season he has fully played. And all Alex Smith did is to show up and steal our bacon. Read More!