Did You Know? The Matsuzaka Edition

A great many words have been written regarding Matsuzaka’s transition from Japanese league phenomenon to Boston Red Sox starting pitcher. Way too many, in all probability. So all that I will say regarding said transition was that it was more or less what I expected. A bit less consistent than I might have predicted, and the control less sharp than had been forecast, but at the end of the day his line for an American League rookie pitcher was – as far as I’m concerned – excellent.

Which brings us to this year. Perhaps not quite as many words have been wasted on his sophomore season to be, but there are certainly no shortage of predictions available. The ZiPS line, for example, looks pretty reasonable to me: a 3.95 return in 196 IP over 29 GS, with 177K’s against 60 BB’s over that span.

Not only does it eyeball as realistic, that’s a fair return on a second year pitcher, in my book. But one interesting tidbit that I hadn’t realized until today: Matsuzaka struck out more batters last year than Beckett, 201 to 194. Granted he had an extra four innings to do it – which says something by itself about the workload he shouldered as a rookie – but his rate per nine was higher, 8.84 K/9 vs 8.70.

It’s tempting to argue that Beckett’s strikeout rate was the end result of the widely acknowledged change in his patterns, including increased usage of the other pitches in his arsenal, such as his change up or two seamer. But actually, the last time it exceeded 9 per 9 innings was 2003. Apart from the train wreck that was 2006, he’s been fairly steady in the 8’s.

So Matsuzaka’s the better pitcher, right? Obviously not. But given the importance of strikeout rate as a metric for evaluating pitcher success and predicting future performance, let’s just say that I’m reasonably optimistic that Matsuzaka can – as Beckett did this year – take a step forward performance wise, matching his ZiPS line at worst, exceeding it we’re lucky.

Can We Drop the Whole "The Red Sox Are the New Yankees" Thing Now?

Following the $100M+ the Red Sox shelled out for Daisuke Matsuzaka last offseason, I – like many Red Sox fans – was besieged with claims from (jilted) Yankees fans that “we were just like them.” That by virtue of that single capital expenditure, we were at once on equal financial footing with the Evil Empire. The media, true to form, picked up on this theme, debating such brain teasers as “would it be as fun to win now,” or “have we sold our souls?” Which obviously, I’ll ignore.

Herculean as my efforts were, however, I was entirely unsuccessful in persuading Yankees fans and good people alike that the two clubs remained quite distinct, in fact, in financial terms.

For while it’s convenient for fans of small market clubs like the A’s and Twins to lump all of the big market teams into a single bucket, the fact remains that we weren’t within hailing distance of the Yankees in terms of payroll numbers (the Matsuzaka posting fee aside, which I’ll get to in a moment). This inclination is understandable, given the respective payroll deltas. According to an AP report today, the gap between our roster and Tampa’s last year, for example, was $123.6, against the $62.9 million the Yankees spent above and beyond our costs.

So how are we different, in light of those numbers? Well, fortunately Allan Wood over at the Joy of Sox answered that question for you this past August:

Meaning you could take the Red Sox’s current payroll, add the salaries of

Ichiro Suzuki
Miguel Tejada
Kevin Millwood
Barry Zito
Albert Pujols
Dontrelle Willis

and still be about $1 million shy of the Yankees’ current payroll.

And that was with a payroll differential of $66M, not $62M.

We spend more than most every other club, it’s true. But please, can we drop the fiction that we’re the same as the Yankees?

Oh, and that monster posting fee which doesn’t get counted against officially reported payroll? Well, amortizing the fee over the 6 year life of the deal, I come out with a figure of $8.5 million per season. A hefty chunk of change for you and me, but not one that alters the above argument meaningfully.

Put Your Insomnia to Work

By now, most people are aware of the brutal start times for our season opener – which are, for marketing reasons that I don’t happen to agree with – being held in Japan. The A’s/Sox contests over there will begin at 6:07 AM, which is bad for the Boston folks, but positively brutal for those of us on Mountain Time. 4:07 AM? Seriously?

The Pacific Time folks actually have it easier, as they can just stay out late.

Now comes word that the remaining single game season tickets – you know, the ones left over after I was completely shut out of the last ticket sale – go on sale Saturday morning. For the lucky East Coast dwellers, the start time is 10 AM. But those of us saddled with MT baggage are facing a steep 8:00 AM Saturday wakeup.

Ugly, but possibly a chance to use my insomnia for good, rather than evil.

The Difference Between Steroids and Scuffed Balls

Much like what two consenting adults choose to do in the privacy of their own bedroom, what one consenting adult chooses to put into his or her own body is something I generally would consider to be none of my business. When it’s a major leaguer, I’m marginally more concerned given the potential impact to records that have a special place in my heart, but still default to respecting the right to privacy.

Nor is the stance mere sympathy. In my brief and spectacularly unimpressive high school and college athletic career, I – just like the professionals – sought an edge. True, they were tame by comparison – NODOZ (didn’t work, made everyone jittery), naprosyn (allowed you to play with inflamation), and a variety of protein shakes (tasted like hammered sand) – but still, the motivation is consistent if the tools are not.

So an anti-steroid screed, you will not be reading here.

That said, there is one argument in defense of steroid use and its place in the game that I hear regularly and cannot bear: that it is entirely consistent with the history of cheating within the game. Unlike other, nobler sports, baseball is and as nearly as I can determine always has been a game with room – if not an affection – for circumvention of the rules. Stealing signs, corked bats, foreign substances, scuffed balls – all of these are entirely unremarkable against the game’s colorful backdrop.

Last weekend, Jim Kaat spoke to Buster Olney on the subject of Performance Enhancing Drugs (PEDs), and made precisely the argument outlined above, saying (the whole thing is excellent):

My reason for pointing out these examples of “performance enhancements” or cheating is that it has been going on as long as the game itself. Steroids that help you perform better are no different except they can affect your health.

With all due respect to Kaat, who had one hell of a career as a pitcher and is credible in the booth as well, I’m not buying it. Besides the health implications, which he mentions, I think there’s a crucial differentiator between the old school and new school cheats: the ability to detect it on the field.

If you think a pitcher is scuffing or applying substances to the ball, you can have him searched. If the suspicion is that a bat is corked, you can have it confiscated and X-rayed. And if a player is stealing signs, you can knock him down. But Barry Bonds? The most they’ve accused him of – Game of Shadows notwithstanding – is perjury. You know, because steroids are difficult to detect period, let alone within the context of the game.

Until such time as in game urine tests are approved by the network censors, however, no such recourse exists for suspected steroid abusers. And with even allegations of steroids carrying with them a heavy price, I suspect many managers find themselves in a Scrabble like situation where they think something is wrong, but don’t dare chance it.

Consider that Sammy Sosa got caught for his corked bat, but not for anything related to steroids. Albert Belle would have been caught for the same offense if not for the daring, Mission Impossible style antics of Jason Grimsley. And a host of pitchers from Brendan Donnelly to Kenny Rogers have been caught applying the omnipresent pine tar to the balls.

Again, my role is not to sit and pass some half-assed judgement down on those who may or may not be guilty of using PEDs. But let’s none of us pretend that steroids are business as usual when it comes to cheating, because they are not. They may or may not confer the advantages assumed by external parties, and they may or may not be detectable by the questionable testing process submitted to by athletes, but they are decidedly not the equivalent of a scuffed ball.

Take whatever position you will on the subject of PEDs, then, but as Judge Harm once said, don’t spit in my cupcake and tell me it’s iciing.

Why I Don't Want Johan Santana, But Would Be Fine With Him

Look, if we end up with Johan Santana – and sign him – I’m not going to complain. Pick your metric, he’s been the best pitcher in the league for several years now…by a wide margin. And of course I’m just as geeked about the possibility of slotting Beckett/Santana/whomever in a potential playoff series as the next guy. Maybe more so, given my self-admitted “problem” with baseball. But at the end of the day, I hope he ends up with the Mets. Seriously.

The problem with this position is that if or when you take it, the uninformed or superficial assume that you’ve gone koo koo for cocoa puffs, where cocoa puffs = Red Sox prospects. That you haven’t considered the matter logically, but rather have a weird and deeply confusing mancrush on Jacoby Ellsbury.

My Navajo brother aside, there are two very good reasons to be at least concerned about a potential trade for Santana. The first is that it doesn’t seem to make economic sense:

For the Red Sox, a trade is even more difficult to rationalize, driven by the lower free-agent valuation of Santana in a sold-out Fenway Park. Santana’s financial value to the Red Sox is in the range of $18 million to $20 million versus his annual value of over $30 million to the Yankees. Starter Jon Lester’s value may be lower than Hughes’ value because Lester has fewer years remaining until free agency, and outfielder Jacoby Ellsbury’s value is likely less than Hughes’ due to the premium paid to starting pitchers. However, neither of these facts changes the reality that the free-agent cost of Santana alone is likely more than his worth to the Red Sox. It may be that the only reason they are involved in trade talks is to bid up the acquisition price of Santana for the Yankees.

That whole piece is excellent, incidentally.

Just as important as the cost, is the predictability of the returns on that cost: i.e. the injury risk. Like many, I’m concerned by his late season fade (check his September splits). I seriously doubt that he forgot how to pitch, meaning that the most logical conclusion is that he wasn’t entirely right. Keith Law seems to share those concerns, saying:

“I haven’t read any of the others (I was on vacation), but I’d take A-Rod, Beckett, and Sabathia (because I’m a little concerned about how Santana finished 2007).

The good news is that I trust our front office – as I would not trust some others, say Houston’s – to have thought about all of this in far more detail than I ever would or could. As Seth put it:

I will, however, say this: I’ve always been reticent about jawing off when I have no real idea what I’m talking about…and such is the case with all of the sundry Santana trade permutations. I don’t mean the specifics of a possible trade — no one knows those except for Theo, Bill Smith, and Brian Cashman. I mean that I don’t know enough (and what’s more, haven’t done the work) to be able to make any kind of responsible or intelligent observations about whether this or that scenario makes sense. I don’t have the drilled-down numbers on Jacoby; I haven’t run the projections on Santana; I sure as hell don’t have any sense of what the pool of pitching talent is like in next few amateur drafts; I don’t know where else the Sox (or the Yankees) would spend that $130 mil or so it’ll likely take to lock up Santana…well, you get the idea. And even if I did have all of this info and even if I had done all of this work, I still would be so many light years behind where the Sox front office is in terms of brainpower, man hours spent hunched over spreadsheets, cumulative knowledge, and on and on, that it would be silly for me to start soapboxing about why this or that scenario makes sense.

It’s important to know what you don’t know, and in my case vis a vis Santana and the possible trade permutations, that’s just about everything. But neither will I concede that trading for him is an open and shut “hand over whatever the Twins ask for.” That’s just the kind of thinking that kept us out of the promised land for decades, so let’s skip it. Though some might lament the invasion of the game by the guys with “pocket protectors,” I don’t happy to be one of them. But then, I like winning World Series.

Filed Under "Things I Didn't Know"

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Game 4: Lowell scores in the 5th, originally uploaded by guano.

Item #1: Mike Lowell’s wife’s name is “Bertica.” For serious. See the quote here. Wikipedia confirms, which is important as it’s Cafardo.

Far be it from me to poke fun at either member of the happy couple: I have nothing but respect for Mr. Lowell – as a player (though I agree with ZIPS that he’s in line for a substantial downward correction) and person – and I’m quite sure the the Mrs. is no less deserving.

It’s just that I’ve never heard of anyone – real, fictional, or imagined – saddled with a name like Bertica. Honestly, if I had to pick between being a boy named Sue or a girl named Bertica, I’d pick Sue seven days a week and twice on Sunday. I might even pick Trinka – as in former Sox wife-or-girlfriend Trinka Lowe – over Bertica, though that’s a tough call.

Anyway, all due credit to her for surviving the unfortunate appellation.

P.S. Thanks to Flickr user guano (no, not joking, and yes I appreciate the irony) for the Creative Commons licensed shot.

Hughes > Buchholz?

Yankees phenom Phil Hughes had an interesting year last year, beginning the ’07 season as the near unanimous top minor league pitching prospect and finishing it with a very respectable 4.46 / .235 BAA line in 72.2 innings, during which he K’d 58 against 28 free passes. All in all, despite some injury setbacks, you’d have to call it a solid introduction to the big leagues for a young pitcher.

Still, it was nearly as unanimous that by the end of the year, he’d been surpassed by the likes of Joba Chamberlain within the organization (who frankly terrifies me), but even worse, Clay Buchholz without.

For his part, the Sox’ slim righthander K’d an even more impressive 22 in 22 and two thirds innings before being shut down due to shoulder fatigue, although I hadn’t realized he’d walked 10 in the same span. Even more impressive, the average against Buchholz? A mere .184. Oh, and there was that game in which he allowed no hits; did you see the bender that closed it against Markakis? Sweet jebus, that was unholy.

Anyway, whether you’d take him over Joba is a point worthy of debate (Keith Law would take Joba), no doubt, but I agree with the general conclusion that you’re pretty happy with either.

And also with the general conclusion that – at least as of today (how quick this can change) – you’d probably prefer either to Phil Hughes. Which is more of a testament to how good those two are than any failing on Hughes’ part, but still.

All of that said, however, there is one area in which Hughes clearly surpasses both Buchholz and Chamberlain – at least to the best of my knowledge. He blogs, and they do not.

So let’s pick it up there, Clay. Rumor has it you’re a bright kid, in spite of the HS mistake, and I’d prefer that we not get outdone by the Yankees in any medium.