On Edge

So, two straight wins and all is right with the Bombers' world. Still, Mariano Rivera provided another white-knuckle experience in the Yankees' 4-3 win over Gustavo Chacin and the Jays. With a one-run lead in the ninth--and some nice middle relief work by Buddy Groom, Felix Rodriguez, Mike Stanton and the much-maligned Tom Gordon to bridge between starter Mike Mussina and the Sandman--Rivera gave up two two-out hits to Vernon Wells and Eric Hinske.

Just as we were saying "Ugh, get the Rollaids, honey, here we go again!" the closer got a groundout from Alexis Rios to complete the victory.

Still, the feeling of vulnerability hasn't worn off of this team, yet. In the Daily News yesterday, Vic Ziegel was likening this squad to the 1965 Yanks, a team depleted by age and injuries, plummeting from the top of the division to go into an 11 year funk.

I don't quite think we're there yet. I wonder if Yankee fans were thinking the same thing in April of '65?

In other news, Gary Sheffield avoided punishment in the Fenway Slapgate scandal, unleashing a mini-tempest of cheerless indignation and undignified cheering.

First about the cheering: Sheffield didn't do anything noble last Thursday. It's nice that he didn't go rampaging into the Fenway stands like Godzilla (the other one) going after Tokyo; but that was only what he was supposed to do. As Chris Rock might say, "What do you want, a cookie?"

About the indignation, that's pretty overwrought as well. Sheff took a swipe at someone who reach out onto the field and took a swipe at him. No matter what the various fans who, in the words of Brother Joe "went Zapruder" on the video clip may think, Sheff convinced the powers that be that he only swung his arms toward the stands to make sure he wasn't hit again.

While many absolutists wanted the Commissioner's office to send a strong message that a player is never allowed to make contact with fans in the seats, that position is itself absurd. If a fan was trying to grab Sheffield's armor jersey in order to prevent him from making the play, I doubt there would have been much controversy about Sheffield trying to shake him off violently. Meanwhile, there would also be a worrisome precedent set if fans in the stands were allowed to physically provoke opposing players into suspensions. Imagine what would happen the next time Kevin Millar goes for a foul pop-up in Yankee Stadium.

It was a marginal call, but the right call, I think.

Elsewhere in Yankeeland, Ruben Sierra has landed on the DL on what is only being described right now as "a bad right arm". Ruben's going for MRIs and whatnot, in the meanwhile, Andy Phillips gets to reprise his role as the Invisible Man in the Yankee dugout.

If Phillips escapes this tour with the club without getting a single plate appearance (as he did until Kevin Brown was called up) Joe Torre is doing something wrong. Again, it isn't excessive puffery to say that Phillips may be a better bet than Martinez or Giambi against a lefthanded starter.

Optimal Performance!

Yeah, that George, he's a master motivator. The Yanks tore through the D-Rays a day after the Boss issued his statement that they weren't playing like "real Yankees."

C'mon...It's the Devil Rays! Sure, a 13 run inning is impressive, but the Yankees are still facing a team that has been, for the entirety of its existence, the dregs of the division, if not the American League.

Still, you have to wonder the role that Chad Bohling is playing in big wins like this. Chad who? Bohling is the Yankees' mysterious Director of Optimal Performance. A what, you may ask? A "mental conditioning" coach, if that isn't replacing one incomprehensible concept for another. Take a gander at Brian Cashman's description of Bohling's role with the club:

Cashman stated that Bohling would be responsible for mental skills and motivational issues for players and coaches at both the major and minor-league level.

"I don't want to get into too much about what Chad is going to provide for us," Cashman told the newspaper. "Ultimately, like anything else, our players are our assets. We just want to make sure that we support them in all aspects of what they do, on and off the field."

Yeah, OK. But who is it that gets the credit for all the Yanks...sub-optimal performances lately? Even in last night's laugher, it looks like Jaret Wright wasn't terribly optimal. He surrendered 8 runs in less than six innings. And everyone's favorite Yankee, Tony Womack, didn't quite get in on the hit parade, going 1 for 6 on the evening.

Meanwhile, it looks like the Yankees might have used up their runs for the week yesterday, because they haven't done much with Hideo Nomo tonight (one run through 6 innings, on a Jason Giambi homer).

Deep Funk!

You gives up a three game sweep to the Boyds in Baltimore, you gets an eruption from Mt. George. Here goes:

Enough is enough. I am bitterly disappointed, as I am sure all Yankee fans are, by the lack of performance by our team. It is unbelievable to me that the highest paid team in baseball would start the season in such a deep funk.

They are not playing like true Yankees. They have the talent to win and they are not winning. I expect Joe Torre, his complete coaching staff and the team to turn this around.

As Joe Torre said in George King's NY Post article (linked in the title) "He is right, what are you going to do?" The team's playing horribly, and Steinbrenner is paying a lot to watch them pay horribly.

George is paying Kevin Brown $16 or so Million this year. The pitcher, who I nicknamed "Crazy Eyez Killa" last year because he constantly seems on the verge of a mass murder spree when he's on the mound: "Garbage Time." Since mid-year last season, whenever he pitches, the game is going straight to your mopup relievers. He was hit early and often yesterday, giving up six runs in six innings, which is actually worse than it sounds since he gave up all six runs, including a Grand Slam, in the first two innings.

While I can't fault Big Stein for complaining, could we all agree to retire the term, "true Yankee" (along with the synonymous "real Yankee")? Calling someone a "true Yankee" used to mean that they were a class act, and/or that they liked playing for the Yankees and for the City of New York. Recent misappropriations by the Red Sox ("A-Rod's not a real Yankee") and the Boss seem to indicate the term has outlived its usefulness.

Simply losing does not mean that the players are not "true Yankees". One of the biggest "true Yankees" in history, Don Mattingly, never won a championship, or even a division title. If all the term stands for is victory, then it stands for nothing. So let's let it go.

Doldrums and Other Things...

As the Yanks try to close out Moose's nice, if stressful start (5 2/3, 7 H 3 BB, 2 R, at least a baserunner every inning), a few thoughts.

Can't blame Sheff for pushing off the Boston Slapper, and I can't quite push for the summary execution of the "fan" who it looks like accidentally made contact with the Yanks rightfielder in the Rubber Game of the Yanks/Sox series in Boston.

Still, they warn you before every game not to interfere with balls in play. When guys like Steve Bartman or the fellow that caught Sheff interfere with the fielders, you and I suffer. Even if the on Thursday didn't intentionally assault Sheffield, teams start thinking about preventing the trouble they've just had. Whenever I sit in the rightfield boxes, I look ruefully at the "Jeffrey Mayer bar" a railing that was put up after the 1996 playoffs, to keep anyone from reaching over the rightfield wall onto the field of play. It's just one more obstacle between the fans and the action on the field--an obstacle course I fear will someday include electrified fences and moats.

Folks blather endlessly about what a great ballpark Fenway is--and I like Fenway a lot--but when you come down to it, the big thing about Fenway is how close everyone is to the action. The Monster's nice, but the seats are uncomfortable, the seating areas look like they were arranged by a maniac on a Red Bull-and-Vodka bender (what's the next idea, string a bunch of harnesses on a giant cable between the Monster and the luxury boxes, and call them "prime, overhead seating"), and on occasion you have an obstructed view or seats that don't face the plate. The ballpark's "killer ap" is that a good percentage of the seats are right top of the action. For my money, Yankee Stadium is the more aesthetically-pleasing place to be, but the main section seats at Fenway might just have a better view of the field than field level seats at the Stadium. And that's what really matters.

While I was putting together that thought, the Yankee bullpen coughed up Mussina's 6-2 lead. Ugh. I think Joe Torre may just have pitched Tom Gordon's arm off last season. Flash's ERA is over seven since the playoffs started last year, and his stuff just doesn't have much life--I haven't seen his good curveball in 2005, and he's having a lot of trouble spotting the fastball. Sturtze, who looked like he was going to pick up some of the slack for the forgotten men (see Quantrill, P. and Karsay, S.) of the Yankee bullpen? That conceit lasted about a week.

You see, the nasty part about this Yankees team, is that every time they disappoint, you can reason: maybe this isn't just a slump. Maybe all these guys in the Yankee bullpen have just lost it. I mean, they're all in their mid-to-late 30's, and that's when ballplayers lose it, isn't it?

It's gonna be a long season.

OK, gotta think good thoughts...

The Daily News has details about the proposed new Yankee Stadium. The new structure is supposed to consist of an outer shell (literally, a facade, a word the article fusses over a lot), which will be a replica of the exterior of old Yankee Stadium, and a modern retropark within.

I don't know what's with this outer shell/inner stadium deal (if I recall correctly, the proposed Jets Stadium is also designed along similar lines)...

WHAT? OK, this is what happened: the Yanks threatened in the 8th, the O's brought in B.J. Ryan, who got Matsui. This I can deal with.

Then in the 9th, with 2 outs, the Yanks get 2 men on against Ryan. Someone is needed to bat for Tony Womack. Here are Joe Torre's options:

John Flaherty -- RHB and only other catcher on the roster
Bubba Crosby -- LHB and only defensive outfielder on the roster
Andy Phillips -- RHB and utility infielder, capable of handling 1B, 2B, and 3B

Obviously, the batter that Joe Torre turns to with the game on the line is Flaherty.

When I used to play strat-o-matic--a tabletop sim game in which each player had a card, and you rolled dice to see what the result of a given at-bat would be--I'd often hand the stack of cards that comprised my roster to Brother Joe for review.

Joe would rifle through the stack with the dexterity of a blackjack dealer, pulling cards out of the pile and putting them to one side. His comment, almost always, was "When on earth are you going to use this guy?" Sometimes I'd offer a bit of rebuttal, tell him what I was thinking when I drafted player X, justify the choice. Usually, I'd agree with Joe, and that player would go on my reseve roster, because what's the point of having a player on the roster if you're never going to use him?

Why is Flaherty in the game in that spot? If the Yanks score one run, you have to twist the Yankee defense in extra innings--likely with Rey Sanchez (who pinch hit for Tino Martinez) staying at 2B, Posada moving from behind the plate to 1B, and Flaherty taking over at catcher. Otherwise, Phillips has to come into the game anyway, and you've burned your backup catcher.

So what was on Torre's mind, here? Flaherty's 2 for 3 performance coming into this game against Ryan? Or was it simply that Torre will not use Phillips, under any circumstances?

Strikeout, end of game. A game the Yankees could've and should've won.

Triple Playtime, Rubber Game

First, there's a new Yankees (and Marlins, and Pirates) Prospectus Triple Play up at the Baseball Prospectus website, in which I take on the Mystery of El Papi, the dominance of the Marlins' staff, and the concept of putting your light-hittin' centerfielder in the #3 slot. Take a look, and tell 'em I sent ya.

Second, after bombing in the Boston home opener/Ring Ceremony/musical extravaganza, the Bombers bombed Schilling in his 2005 debut. I was at the pool hall, as is my wont on Wednesdays, as all this is going on, so I caught the game in a strobe effect, wandering over between shots, or whenever the guys who were watching the game looked excited. My opponent last night was a Red Sox fan and/or Yankee hater, so beating him, and the Yanks beating Schill, was a double delight.

The big man last night was Bernabe Williams, hitting in the #9 hole (as the Tony Womack Fan Club will doubtless declare, finally, Torre got wise and put Tony in the leadoff spot!). I'm glad, because for the past 12 months I've been on the edge of a knife, balancing between the idea that Bernie might yet have a graceful decline phase (move to DH and spend 6 years hacking a la Hal Baines?) and the thought that maybe Bernie is completely done as a useful player, and should be on the bench, or rather, composing his next record at his house in Puerto Rico, tuning up for Bernie Williams Day at the Stadium. Lately, I've been resigned to the downward spiral concept of Williams' future. Bernie posts a .446 OPS in Spring Training, and while I don't take those stats too seriously...he wasn't even within whistling distance of the Mendoza line. As Leo DiCaprio would say "This is bad!"

So every time Bernie hits a big home run, I let myself hope. He's the player I most identify with turning around the Yankee franchise, and I want to enjoy his swan song--even if he's not going to be a great or even good player for the rest of his career.

The other thing about last night's game was the intense nervousness I felt watching Mariano Rivera take the mound at Fenway. I've probably expended as much energy as anyone downplaying this rivalry, but last night I was holding my breath on each pitch.

No, I don't think that if Rivera had blown the save last night, it would have meant anything other than he's still rounding into form, or maybe his shoulder is still hurting. But these things take on a life of their own. Enough people start writing that you can't hold the Red Sox down, and heaven knows, you just might start to believe it.

So tonight's the rubber match, Johnson versus Bronson. A win would put the Yanks ahead in the year-long series 4-2. Right now, that means nothing...and everything.

Dark Days, Dark Thoughts

Actually, the weather was pretty nice in the Tri-State today. But after a weekend where the Yanks lost a series to the Baltimore Orioles, where our shiny new pitcher got his head busted open, and at the end of which the Red Sox got their rings, their bragging rights, and a win, to boot...Well, the sun seems a little dimmer.

So here are some disoriented thoughts about the past few days:

Can anyone do more to lose a ballgame for you than Jason Giambi did on Sunday? He cost the Yanks a run in the second, by making such a show of the fact that he didn't think he should have to hold Rafael Palmeiro on first, that Palmeiro stole second out of spite, and almost immediately scored on a single. Then, he got undressed on a drag bunt by Dave Roberts. Then he flubbed the popup in foul turf, keeping Melvin Mora's at bat alive. Mora would later hit a scorcher up the middle that tatooed Carl Pavano on the noggin.

So in less than three innings, he's responsible for three runs, and for his pitcher getting injured. Forget steroids, this is the kind of stuff that I boo.

Quick! While the old man is paying attention to his horsey, someone fix the farm system!

You have to admit that it was worth a try.

Remember when Lee Mazzilli couldn't beat the Yankees? Seems like a long time ago, don't it?

I was halfway expecting some sort of bloody incident today, where the Red Sox decided to have special rings made up for the Yankees, for helping them win the World Series.

Not Quite Off to Never-Never Land

The Yanks-Red Sox series ended Wednesday, so this is kinda stale; but I don't want to be one of those guys that only writes about his team when they win.

So the big story is that the Sandman hasn't done his game closing duty through the first series of the 2005 season, which makes people remember that he didn't quite manage to close things out his last two times out in Fenway last fall. People don't have to be terribly smart to see a pattern there (even if, as Brother Joe points out, that pattern's pretty darn flawed) which has lead people to gin up some theories.

A big, popular one amongst the New Englandy-types, is that the Red Sox own Rivera. I tend to doubt it, but it's not completely far-fetched. While player-on-player matchups (and team-on-player matchups) are often sample size illusions, every once in a while there's something to them: I remember the palpable fear a John Wetteland/Ken Griffey Jr. matchup would give me, back in the day. You just knew something bad was going to happen.

Sure, maybe Junior just got lucky. A whole bunch of times. Getting back to Rivera, it's possible that the Red Sox might've picked up on something the rest of the league missed--some pitch-tipping, or a pattern in the way Mariano throws. However, given the amount of yapping these guys did over the winter, if that were so, I think we'd've read it in a Gammons column by now.

Another, more likely, explanation is injury. He missed time with elbow bursitis this Spring, and was shut down over the winter, off his normal throwing regimen. Counting the postseason, Rivera threw 83 games and over 92 innings last year, the most he's thrown since 2001. For those of you that forget, after being the losing pitcher in Game 7 of the 2001 Series, Mariano had an injury-shortened season in 2002.

If we're talking about a bad arm, as a fan my biggest reaction is "better now than October". Given the number, if not the quality, of righthanded relievers on staff, the team could survive a short DL stay from Rivera, in the interest of having him healthy come crunchtime.

A more troubling thought is if you look at the pattern as: Rivera hasn't been the same since his relatives were electrocuted in his pool in Costa Rica. It's easy to give short shrift to players worries and emotional problems, because their effect on the field can be so hard to predict. Don Larsen, after all, pitched a perfect game the same day he was served divorce papers. Still, what can you do if the problem is that Rivera's head isn't in the game? There's no surgery for that type of wound, no cortisone shot that will grant temporary relief.

Still, the likeliest answer is that the season is still young. Rivera might be slightly out of condition, since he changed his winter routine, and lost time during Spring Training. In that case he'll get better as the season gets going.

After all, this is only week one.

First Impressions...

One of the new Yankees who gives me "the Fear," Carl Pavano, made a good impression in his maiden pinstriped voyage against the Rosy-Hosed Bostons of, well...Boston.

OK, so much for the attempt at 19th Century baseball writing. Pavano looked good facing a Red Sox lineup that gave the Yanks fits last season. Carl got touched up by David Ortiz, but he got through 6 1/3 innings, surrendering only 2 runs and whiffing 7. His splitter was a much more impressive pitch than I expected.

On the down side, the Red Sox's "we own Rivera!" thing keeps going, as Jason Varitek--who at bat alternately looks like the girlfriend brought in to round out a softball team, or like an in-his-prime Mickey Mantle--hit a ninth inning bomb that tied the game at three. Luckily, Rivera escaped the inning, and Derek Jeter did some of that Captain Clutch thing, hitting a lead off, walk-off shot against Red Sox closer Keith Foulke.

Other negatives from the game--another Yankee who gives me "the Fear" is Bernie Williams. In the 4th inning, with a good shot to crack the game open--one out, bases loaded--Bernie tapped into a really weak 3-2-3 double play against John Halama. The bottom of the Yankee lineup--Giambi/Williams/Martinez/Womack--inspires a lack of confidence not seen in the Bronx since 1995 (remember Dion James batting 6th? Admit it, you wanted to forget).

Still the good news outweighs the negatives. Carl Pavano...I haven't wanted to be wrong about someone so badly since my first girlfriend, back in high school. The performance analyst in me thinks this is just a blip in this guy's career, that any moment he's going to wake up and be just a league-average innings-muncher. The fan in me, though, wants to believe that this is a guy that suddenly figured out how to be Greg Maddux, or Jamie Moyer.

That's the cool thing about getting a brand-new season. You get to dream for a little while. Enjoy it while it lasts.

For Openers...

Baseball opened up shop today, on what I still think should be a national holiday. Sadly, no one wants to give up a day in April for the National Pastime, so until then, I work on this day under protest (sure, it's a silent protest...).

Anyway, things led off last night, under weather conditions that had to bring to mind October, as the Big Unit outdueled the just plain big David Wells in a 9-2 Opening Night showdown at the Stadium. Having the Red Sox in this early is borderline absurd, but it might be just what the doctor ordered, to wash the bad taste of the ALCS out of Yankee fans mouths, and get the season started right.

Now, speaking of the season, this space has been decidedly light on "season previews," predictions or projections. Part of me balks at the practice, because everyone spends a good chunk of March on previews, and I sometimes feel like I have nothing to add to the conversation. So I'm taking a suggestion from the Back Bay to the Promised Land blog--I'm going to give you my picks, then spend some time telling you who is likely to surprise us, or at the very least surprise me.

AL East ......... AL Central ..... AL West
1. Red Sox ... 1. Twins ....... 1. Oakland
2. Yankees* .. 2. Indians ..... 2. Angels
3. Blue Jays . 3. Tigers ...... 3. Rangers
4. Baltimore . 4. White Sox ... 4. Mariners
5. Devil Rays .5. Royals

MVP: Manny Ramirez; Cy Young: Randy Johnson; ROY: Nick Swisher

NL East ......... NL Central ..... NL West
1. Braves .... 1. Cardinals ... 1. Dodgers
2. Mets* ..... 2. Cubs ........ 2. Padres
3. Marlins ... 3. Reds ........ 3. Giants
4. Phillies .. 4. Brewers ..... 4. Rockies
5. Nats ...... 5. Astros ...... 5. Diamondbacks
.............. 6. Pirates

MVP: Albert Pujols; Cy Young: Josh Beckett; ROY: Andy Marte

Yawn. Am I done yet? Talk about groupthink: my AL picks exactly match the aggregate picks of the BP staff. Overall, it's boring, staid, and nearly banal. With these picks, I likely have the Yankees meeting the Dodgers in the World Series, which is just about as plain vanilla as you can get.

So tomorrow, I'll come back to tell you why I'm wrong, wrong, wrong about some of these picks (and to justify making a few of the choices I made that might seem a bit off).

Real April Fools

Kind of an early, nasty, April Fool's trick on some roster hopefuls:

Award-winner: Infielder Andy Phillips was presented with the James P. Dawson Award before Thursday's game, an honor given annually to the top rookie in the Yankees' spring camp.

Phillips was presented with the award by Pete Caldera, the chairman for the New York chapter of the Baseball Writers' Association of America. Bubba Crosby received the award last season.

Phillips hit .333 with four home runs and 13 RBIs in 22 games this spring. He is slated to be the starting first baseman at Triple-A Columbus this season.

Oh, yeah, that's some prize Phillips got there. Here's your award for having a nice spring, kid. Now go back to Columbus for the rest of the year. See you in September, maybe.

Another guy caught in the same bit is Buddy Groom, a fellow looking for some of that Jesse Orosco love. Groom had a pretty good spring, also: one run allowed in nine innings. He, too, goes to Columbus, Ohio, because the Yankees' roster resembles a flea market--a bunch of misfit items, most of them old and used. From the right side of the bullpen, you have Tom Gordon, and Paul Quantrill, and Tanyon Sturtze, and Felix Rodriguez and Steve Karsay (not to mention, the vestigial 5th starter the team doesn't need until mid-month), all backing up Mariano Rivera. From the left side, you have Mike Stanton alone patrolling the shores for the likes of David Ortiz and Trot Nixon.

Still, Groom has something I bet Andy Phillips wishes he had: an out. If the Yanks don't call Groom up by May 1, he's free to shop his wares to a team that actually wants a second lefty. Phillips doesn't get that freedom until the Yanks take him off the 40 man roster, or until he runs out of minor league options. The option process has set free Brett Prinz this week, and stands to liberate Alex Graman in the near future. Graman sucked this spring, but at least he got a full try-out, compared to Colter Bean--who got 4 2/3 admittedly crappy innings to show that he wasn't worth the team's attention. Bean struck out 6 batters in that time frame, something which should at least bring some positive attention to the big soft-tosser.

But back to the 2005 Dawson Award winner. We were teased with the idea that Phillips would get to platoon with Tino Martinez at first base. There's some logic to this, when you consider what happens to some of the Yankees against a lefty reliever:

RHP 2004 LHP 2004 LHP 2001-2004
Hideki Matsui .977 .776 .745
Jason Giambi .633 .924 .845
Ruben Sierra .791 .703 .685
Tony Womack .757 .655 .602
Tino Martinez .811 .856 .732

Next player on the depth chart when Tony Womack faces a lefty in the late innings? There's Sierra (if he's not already in the lineup) who sucks against lefties, there's Rey Sanchez (.697 over the last 3 years against lefties), there's Tom Flaherty, who's also that vestigial creature--the second catcher you don't dare use lest Jorge Posada get injured.

Given the situation, you could probably find some use for Andy Phillips, who can play at least three infield position, and who has some righthanded pop.

Now, I'm not overselling Phillips--reportedly, his defense at second and third is bad, and his bat isn't proven on the Major League level. Still, he's 28 years old, and he's hit quite a bit at AAA. If he isn't ready to help the ballclub now, when will he be ready?

Link o' the Day: 4/1/05

The Tony Womack Fan Club

I don't know why they let people like this out of the asylum. Check out what this dingbat has to say about the upcoming season:

In other preview news, the Yanks are going to win the AL East and win the World Series, under Womack's guidance. The Cardinals will learn the same lesson that the Diamondbacks did: you get rid of Tony, you pay the price! They won't make the playoffs. Neither will the Cubs or Pirates, othher teams that were fool enough to let Tony leave. I guess that means the Houston Astros will win the NL Central, 'cause they're the one team (other than the Brewers, who suck!) that's not dealing with the Curse of Womack.

That's it. I quit blogging, and heck, I just plain quit writing about baseball. It's just no use, you just can't get through to these people!

Mo' Linkin'

Linking worked well in my "getting back to blogging" workout scheme, so here are a few fresh hits:

The New York Times started off the day by making me grouchy. They've disemboweled the Circuits section, which is one of the few reasons that I ever plunked down money for the publication. (Other reasons: the Science section on Tuesdays, and because La Chiquita goes into withdrawal if she goes more than two days without her Times fix.) In Sports, they have an interesting piece today on Kimberly Bell, Barry Bonds' alleged ex-girlfriend/personal harpy. We've gone over this ground before, but I was interested to see that Ms. Bell claims to have collected answering machine tapes from throughout her and Bonds' relationship. That's one of those warning signs your relationship isn't on solid ground, by the way--when your girlfriend makes sure to keep incriminating evidence against you. Kinda like Monica Lewinsky keeping the blue dress...

Jay Jaffe takes on the Yanks in his latest piece over at Baseball Prospectus. It is a subscription article, but the readers' digest version of the post can be found at his website, Futility Infielder.

Last, but not least, I got a small mention in an article by Dejan Kovacevic in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, on the Pirates' ace, Oliver Perez.

Link o' the Day

Spring Training is over, and like the athletes down in Florida and Arizona, it's time for me to prove that I'm in shape for the season. That means no more of this "two posts a week" crap, as I prepare for the daily grind of blogging during the baseball season.

Today's link is only tangentially related to sports. One of my favorite local columnists, the Daily News' David Hinckley, is doing a history of New York music in installments for the newspaper. Today's entry is about that mysterious stadium favorite "Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye" and the ultimate one-hit wonder band, Steam, which was created exclusively for the song. In Hinckley's words:

As with "White Christmas," probably 90 people out of a hundred can sing only the chorus.

And probably only two out of a hundred even know it has verses.

But its message in the arena is as clear as the message to the gladiator when the emperor turned his thumbs down.

Na na na na, na na na na, hey, hey, kiss him goodbye.

Sweet SweetBarry's Baadasssss Song

Barry Bonds is out until mid-season, and maybe for 2005. Or maybe he's ready to call it a career.

He says he's exhausted and I believe him. A few thousand sportswriters take turns sticking pins into voodoo dolls of him, the government seems fixed upon getting him on perjury charges for his testimony before the BALCO grand jury, an alleged spurned ex-girlfriend wants to do anything her power to take him down, and his knee hurts.

Part of me suspects that this is just one of those "player vacations", and maybe Barry will just skip the boring part of the season, and return for the stretch drive and playoffs--if the Giants are able to keep it close in his absence.

On the other hand, I wouldn't be shocked if Barry decides to rehab that knee in a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty with the U.S.

Call me a Bonds apologist, but I still don't have any anger to direct at Baryy. He used steroids, perhaps unknowingly, which calls into question his achievements of the past several years. It seems that at the very least he was involved in some sort of relationship with this Kim Bell who testified before the BALCO Grand Jury, and who's been appearing on any media outlet that will have her. That makes Barry a cheat on his marriage, which isn't a terribly nice thing to do. He's also been kind of a crybaby as the vice has closed in on him. None of this is admirable behavior.

So Barry Bonds isn't a hero. Maybe he's not even a role model. For some reason, and I'm not certain it's rational, I'm still pulling for the guy.

You see, Barry's become baseball's anti-hero. Like Preacher in Superfly or Harry Callahan, he's not a nice guy. He's not playing by the rules, or doing things for the noblest of reasons. But some of us are still rooting for him.

Is it that we're immoral? We don't care about the legacies of poor Babe Ruth and Roger Maris and Hank Aaron? Maybe we're seduced by Barry's charisma? I dunno.

Part of what makes a decent anti-hero is the quality of his opposition. In the blaxpoitation tradition, the bad guy you rooted for was eclipsed in his badness by the even worse guys that were out to get him. So sure, Preacher was a drug dealer who'd threaten to pimp out his best friend's wife. But he was up against a bunch of racist, murderous drug-dealing cops, so that kind of takes the edge off the drug dealer thing.

Maybe that's Barry's appeal. The people who have been after him are so unpleasant--one reads the nasty gloatings of Selena Roberts in the Times and it's pretty hard not to feel some simpathy--that Bonds looks less hypocritical by comparison.

Maybe it's just that I find it hard to judge ballplayers on anything other than their performance, which makes it very difficult for me to give a damn about a player who's a "bad person." I've seen so many players switch hats between villain and hero in my short time as a fan, that it feels as if MLB is the WWF (or WWE, or whatever they call the big pro wrestling group these days).

I mean, first Wade Boggs was a great guy, a real ballplayer. Then he was a selfish guy, sitting out at the end of the season to win the batting title. Then he was a real bad guy, because he cheated on his wife and made the Red Sox clubhouse a "25 guys, 25 taxi cabs" no-chemistry place.

Then he shows up in the Bronx, and he's a gamer again, a clubhouse leader. The judge of the friggin' kangaroo court! How did that happen? Did he get a personality transplant?

Some of this is games that the sportswriters play, rewarding the guys that are nice to them, and burying the fellows that aren't so polite. The real issue is, do we ever really get to know the folks that play baseball for our favorite teams? You get your impressions: I've always thought that Don Mattingly was a great guy. No one ever had anything bad to say about him, not that I've heard, anyway. But do I really know that he's a good person?

Nobody'd ever dared claim that Kirby Puckett was anything but an adorable Teddy Bear. That reputation, as much as the glaucoma that cut his career short, got him into the Hall of Fame. He retires, gets inducted, and suddenly it turns out that Puckett's a sexual predator, a wife beater. An ugly human being.

Did he move to the dark side once his playing days were over, or was there just another side to the fellow, which the beat writers and press guys either never saw, or never reported? I mean, Kirby was in the public spotlight for eleven years. He played in two World Series, under the most intense scrutiny the game can muster.

We knew this guy. It just turns out we didn't know him.

The point is, you never know. I don't know Barry Bonds. From what I've heard, that's possibly for the best. The one thing I know is that I've never seen anyone hit like him. Before all this home run hoopla and steroid talk, he was still one of the most incredible players I'd ever seen--part Rickey Henderson, part Ken Griffey Jr.

Before any of that stuff, there were folks who loved to tear him down. "He's aloof," they'd say. "Bonilla's the real power on that team," they claimed when Bobby Bonilla and Bonds were both Pirates. "He's a post-season choker," they carped when the Braves mowed the Pirates down in the playoffs a couple of times in a row. He missed a couple of MVPs, and not for the best reasons. Later they bitched and moaned about Barry's "body armor" his clubhouse recliner, his surliness.

And maybe now, all that I'm left to root for or against is his performance, which I hope continues to tumble Aaron's career home run mark. Even if he's a cad, a juicer, and an adulterer.

How weird is that?

A few more incoherent ramblings:

The Score Bard's epic poem about the steroid hearings is so funny, it should carry a "don't drink anything while reading this" warning.

Speaking of that, I've always wanted something like this to happen, for all the folks that make the folks that assume Bonds was lying in his grand jury testimony. The setup--Bonds gives an exclusive, no-holds-barred interview with Bob Costas. We pick it up in progress:

BOB: ...and you actually thought it it was flaxseed oil?

BARRY: Yes, Bob. That's what they told me it was. I didn't know what the heck flaxseed oil is supposed to look or taste like.

BOB: But what do you say to everyone who doesn't think it's...credible...for a world-class athlete like yourself to claim he didn't know exactly what he was putting in his body. You have to admit that's pretty...far fetched.

BARRY: Funny you should mention that, Bob. You remember when we were in the green room before the show? I handed you that mug of coffee you're drinking right now.

BOB: I don't see what that has to do with anything...

BARRY: I put 25 cc's of THG in your coffee, Bob. Did you know you were taking steroids?

As they say, one Vial of THG: a couple of hundred bucks, and ten years in Federal prison if you get busted with it. Watching Bob Costas do a spit-take on National TV? Priceless.

Stream of Unconsciousness

This is the way of spring training, for me, at least. We wait all winter for spring training, then it arrives and we celebrate. But the joy of the whole thing only lasts so long--eventually, you get tired that most of the games aren't televised, and that the team's about a thousand miles away.

Eleven days left. It's getting difficult to wait for baseball.

One thing that last week's congressional hearings are doing, it's improving some fellows' chances of making the Hall of Fame. Already, Mike Lupica is stumping for Roger Maris's inclusion in the Hall of Fame, for the distinction of having played before steroids were a factor in athletics. Next year, I expect that Jim Rice will get the nod, for having played--presumably, of course, since anabolic steroids certainly existed during Rice's career--without the assistance of performance enhancing drugs.

That is, if you don't count things like amphetamines, which were a staple in Major League clubhouses during both players' careers, and continue to be a staple today.

But hey, at least they're not steroids. I mean, it's not like speed is illegal like steroids, and lord knows no-one's ever died from taking amphetamines.

That's irony, for those of you that haven't heard.

A couple of other guys whose Hall candidacies got a boost last week: Andre Dawson and Dale Murphy.

If I keep it up with the one-sentence paragraphs, this could amount to a Mike Lupica tribute post.

Allright, let's have some conspiracy theories: Rick Ankiel's out of options, so he very publicly announces that he's quitting the mound and becoming a minor league outfielder. Since Ankiel would probably be a 25 year old learning to hit in low-A ball, no one picks him up on waivers once he's released. If Ankiel changes his mind about pitching, once he safely makes (made?) it through waivers, we're going to be treated to some more of George Will bleating that Tony LaRussa is a genius.

Spring stats aren't worth a damn--small sample sizes and whatnot, but a quick stroll through the numbers leaves a few definite impressions. Bernie Williams has had a brutal spring. He's batting .091 with 2 doubles and 2 walks. That's almost as bad as Damian Rolls, who's hitting .107 without any extra base hits. On the pitching side, Steve Karsay and Paul Quantrill have combined for 9 1/3 innings pitched, 25 hits and 14 runs (all of 'em earned). Quantrill's been hampered by a strained muscle in his side. Don't know what Karsay's excuse is, but this could open up a spot for Chien Ming Wang (1 run in 9 innings), Scott Proctor, and/or Buddy Groom (both have yet to allow a run in a combined 10 1/3 innings).

Other impressive guys, based on the spring stats? Andy Phillips has a shot at making the club as the backup/platoon firstbaseman and utility infielder, he's batting .333/.428/.625. Hideki Matsui has 5 homers and a .938 slugging percentage. Bubba Crosby is having another impressive spring, trying to nail down the 4th outfielder spot (.321/.387/.643), as is Colin Porter (.308/.308/.538).

Oh, and everybody's favorite whipping boy, Tony Womack? Try a .528 batting average with 2 triples and a homer.

Yep, it's still spring training.

Oh, by the way, I dropped a Prospectus Triple Play on you last week, and didn't do any self-promotion. Silly me. And promoting the work of others, Will Carroll has the Yankees' Team Health Report up at Prospectus, and you don't have to be a subscriber to partake! Enjoy.

Laws and Sausages...

I remember, for one month shortly after I graduated college, I became a CSPAN junkie.

At that point, there were two CSPAN channels, one at almost all times dealing with boring academic symposia--only DC-area colleges or universities in Cambridge, MA, needed to apply--and the other dedicated to the business of the people, the workings of the Senate and the House of Representatives.

After watching several dozen floor debates, hearings, and votes called, I came to the conclusion that the business of the people might be the most boring stuff in the history of humankind, certainly the most boring thing ever put on television. After the first week, I kept on watching in horror, because I simply couldn't believe that the system--the government of the most powerful nation in the world--was this inefficient. They were having votes about whether they would decide to vote! A whole month went by, and I'm pretty sure the nation's legislature failed to accomplish a single thing in that time.

Of all people, it was Newt Gingrich who finally clued me in on what I was seeing. On one of the boring academic symposia shows, he said, off-the-cuff: "The genius of the Constitution is that the framers made the government so inefficient, no tyrant could force it to function for his benefit."

That was a relief. The design flaw was intentional. I was free to go back to watching ESPN.

Today, we had the intersection of CSPAN and ESPN in the form of congressional hearings into steroids in baseball. Because I have a day job, I couldn't follow most of the hearings--excellent fill ins on the first two panels (which featured steroid victims, steroid experts, and inexplicably Jim Bunning) were provided by the pros--Will Carroll over at the newly-renamed Juice Blog, and Dave Pinto at Baseball Musings.

Luckily for me, the House of Representatives is way inefficient, and so hearings that were supposed to last until 2:00 PM went on until 9:00PM, so I got to listen to the players testify, and even got to see some of the final panel, made up of MLB representatives and Donald Fehr.

Man, was that ugly.

The whole atmosphere of the hearing was like watching a well-dressed person talking to an emotionally disturbed homeless guy--there's a lot of agreeing with whatever the homeless guy has to say. Congressmen spent the entire evening telling the players and the MLB guys that they were angry--real angry!--and that baseball was going to have to put its house in order. And the witnesses were all in heads-a-bobbin' mode "Uh-huh, yeah, house in order, whatever you say, please don't hurt me."

The formerly brash and bold Jose Canseco turned into a house-broken kitten in the face of the committee: all that "steroids are the way of the future!" stuff he was pitching in his book was out the window--now 'roids were wrong and harmful and man, was he sorry that Congress wasn't looking out for him back when he played the game. Jose looked pretty big, which makes me think that if the committee had insisted on a urine test on the spot, Jose might've flunked it. But for one day, at least, he had seen the light, and gotten the message: steroids bad!

Still, Canseco wasn't the biggest loser of the day. That distinction would belong to Big Red, Mark McGwire. His oft-repeated lines "I'm not here to discuss the past, but to talk about the future" and "I wouldn't know, I'm retired" were among the lamest evasions in human history--bad enough that several congressmen mocked him openly. From his opening statement on, this was a bizarre performance--he choked up unexpectedly throughout his opening statement, and was often incoherent in his testimony. He told the panel that his foundation was dedicated to fighting the steroid problem. When asked what his foundation was doing, it turned out he'd just decided to re-dedicate his foundation to fight steroid use. When pressed further, as to what his message would be, the answer was: "Steroids's bad. Don't do them."

I'm serious. That's what I heard, and I couldn't believe it as I heard it.

The only spark of rebellion that could be seen from any of the witnesses came from MLB's attorney Rob Manfred, who looked at various times like he wanted to bitch-slap the congressmen in attendance. I thought there was actually a threat of a fist fight when Representative Lynch of Massachussets started babbling about how he was always happy to allow drug testing of his unions into the many collective bargaining agreements he negotiated.

It's always easy to give away someone else's rights. After an evening of listening to congressmen tell baseball that they should merrily agree to random drug testing and two-strikes-you're-out Olympic discipline rules--because baseball players are role models, y'know--I was more than happy to support the "Steroid and Drug Free Congress Act of 2005" which would call for random drug testing and Olympic discipline for all U.S. Representatives and their staffers.

I mean, what better way to send the right message to our children?

Down in the Dumps

Just a couple of notes after a couple of days spent home sick.

The walls really close in on you after a few days on the shelf. On the plus side, I got to watch the Yanks in pre-season action on Thursday night, which meant seeing Mussina look sharp, Matsui look powerful, and Carl Pavano look up in the zone. I was overjoyed to see some pinstripes on the field again, but Pavano concerns me. Maybe my observation was tinged by my prejudice against Pavano, but he just didn't didn't seem to have much on his pitches--not velocity or movement. I know this is Spring Training, but the whole thing gives me the fear.

On the minus side, this is the worst possible weekend for me to be out of action. My mom's birthday is this weekend, the birthday party for my college pal Aaron is tomorrow, and I'm going to miss tonight's Baseball Prospectus book signing at Colisseum books. This upsets me.

So we have joy, fear and anger, which is about half the pallete of human emotion. Now, if I could leave the damn apartment, maybe I'd get to experience the rest of it.

Links-a-Bobbin'

Just the other day, I mentioned that I need to update my links. So I'm busily preparing to do so, and off go some of my top bloggers and change addresses--again. Bronx Banter, Will Carroll Presents, and the Humbug Journal have all moved from their respective homes to a new construct, The Baseball Toaster. Could someone please email me when it's finally safe for me to update my links?

Congress-a-Knockin'

"We need to to be investigated by someone who wants to kill us just to watch us die. We need someone perceived by the American people to be irresponsible, untrustworthy, partisan, ambitious, and thirsty for the limelight. Am I crazy, or is this not a job for the U. S. House of Representatives?"

Can't claim credit for that one, that's from the West Wing. Still, I think it captures my opinion of the announced congressional hearings on steroids. Look, it's not the HUAC--we're not tearing at the fabric of american society here. Steroid distribution is a federal crime, and major league baseball is a federally-regulated (or rather, considering the anti-trust exemption, deregulated) business. This means that Congress does have an arguable legitimate interest to poke around, educate themselves with regard to future legislation they might pass on steroids or on baseball.

Then again, it's not the Watergate Hearings, either. Steroids are, after all, already illegal. They've been present in sports for decades, and MLB's already taken action to improve testing. So the purposes given by legislators for this investigation are pretty vague and flimsy ("We're going to show kids that steroids aren't cool" seems to be the prevailing idea).

What this is just going to be is an amateur talent show, for a bunch of folks with their own agendas. Politicians will get their names in the paper--in the Sports pages, which are probably read by more people than Congressional Register. They'll try to convince people that they are pro-children and anti-cheating (it would be much more interesting to see them argue the contrary positions). Jose Canseco will try to sell a few more books. Curt Schilling will audition for a post-baseball career in politics. Jason Giambi will try to walk a tightrope, again.

I didn't say it had to be a good talent. Still, I'm expecting that Big G's agent, Arn Tellem, will have a good time, with hopes of getting to play the Tom Hagen part in Godfather 2 "This committee owes an apology, Senator!"

Still, while most people worry about the effect that these hearings will have on baseball, I'm a little more concerned about the effect that they'll have on Congress. It is, after all, a more important body than Major League Baseball, and here we stand helplessly watching it waste their time and our money, on something that won't make one bit of difference to anyone except for the various amateur talent show contestants.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Stupid, Part I: Try Not to Break the Law on Your Way to Work...
Marriage Penalty: Visa Woes Plague Dominican (Kline & Manuel, Baseball America)

As a Dominican-American, it hurts to see a story like this. Ten guys (and possibly 20 more) who've worked so hard to make it to the minor leagues in the U.S.-we don't know the names of the players, so we can't yet comment on how close or far these guys were to making it to the Show--blew it in the worst way possible.

They gave up their dreams for a reported $5,000, to engage in an immigration scam. The scam? They use their U.S. work visas (sponsored by the Major League ballclubs) to bring fraudulent spouses into the country. The criminal masterminds behind this scam didn't figure anyone would suspect anything if a bunch of players all applied for their visas at the same time, claiming brand-new spouses married in the same time frame.

Yeah, that doesn't look suspicious at all.

It's doubtful that the guys who thought up this scam will face anything close to the punishment that the players have--they're basically banned from ever travelling to the U.S. again. Career over, in U.S. baseball, at least.

Stupid Part II: Yeah, Call the Yankees Satan and then Wonder Why You Get Hate Mail...
Excerpt from The Devil Wears Pinstripes by Jim Caple (ESPN.com)

In the latest attempt to cash in on the Red Sox/Yankees phenomenon, ESPN.com's Jim Caple has released a book on "why we hate the Yankees and -- sigh -- why we also desperately need them." Judging from the excerpt, it's supposed to be a humor book. I say "supposed to be" because the jokes in this excerpt seem kinda stale, and I can't really count Caple as one of my favorite ESPN writers.

There was one humorous bit on Caple's website, a fake timeline entry that reads: Oct. 16, 2004: Steinbrenner celebrates the Yankees’ 19-8 victory over the Red Sox in Game 3 of the ALCS by hanging a banner that reads “Mission Accomplished’’).

Not a big belly laugh, but a quiet chuckle.

Anyway, since Caple's a former Seattle writer, there's a post about the excerpt on USS Mariner. I'm featured in the comments as the curmudgeonly Yankees Fans Rights' advocate.

Stupid Part III: Let's Get Upset About Exhibition Games, Shall We?
Ire Springs from Boss (Bill Madden, NY Daily News)

This article, apparently not in the News' online edition, talks about George Steinbrenner being angry about the Yanks poor Grapefruit League action (their win against the Sox last night was the first win of the Spring) and because the Yankees' scouts haven't provided the team with any good prospects.

To be specific:

Although Steinbrenner declined public comment, sources told the Daily News he was "furious" over all these early spring losses that largely were the result of of using nonroster minor league players who will not be going north with the team.

"Who are the scouts that signed these guys?" Steinbrenner demanded.

First of all, this getting upset about Spring Training record is the kind of thing that feeds the Yankee Haters. They're exhibition games, fer goodness' sake! Guys are supposed to be preparing for the season, working on their skills, not acting like winning is a matter of life and death. You'd think George is too darn old to get bogged down in crap like this.

That second part's a legitimate gripe, but what, George only just noticed the dearth of prospects in the Yankees' system? It's a fact that has been staring him in the face for the past three years, at least.


Not Stupid: Revenge Is a Dish Best Served Cold
Giambi HR Hits Back at Nation (Borden, NY Daily News)

The Red Sox Nation, that is. Giambi went 2-5 with a homer in a start against the Red Sox in split-squad win in Fort Myers. The print version of the Article features a handy boo-meter (the very punny "Jeer-Ambi meter") which recorded the admittedly subjective strength of the booing of Giambi before the game, and in each of the DH's 5 at bats.

Hopefully, the lesson Jason learns from this experience is that the one way to shut his detractors up is to beat the living daylights out of the ball. Well, that and sign lots of autographs before and after the game.

Like Kissing Your Sister...

Oh yeah, it's Spring, all right.

Yesterday, I was home sick. I hear on the news, Grapefruit League action begins today.

I remember that the Yanks open up against the Pirates. This is perfect, I'm laid up and good for just about nothing but watching TV, and I get baseball--two of my PTP teams--on TV.

Oops. Not yesterday. Yanks/Pirates was today, and instead, ESPN was showing the Mets and the Nationals yesterday. It was still baseball, I should be grateful. But I totally missed the Yankee opener. Even though I was still sick, I couldn't afford to miss another day of work.

Luckily, Cliff Corcoran and Steve Goldman didn't miss the opener, and each provided their own special moment-by-moment analysis of the game. Enjoy.

Hog Heaven....

I'm in baseball overload, before a single exhibition game is played, I'm in so much baseball it's coming outta my pores.

The reason? This morning, on my way to work, I had enough time to stop at the bookstore in Penn Station, and there it was: Baseball Prospectus 2005.

Now, in this day and age, I think most hardcore BP folks buy through the Internet. The Amazon link at the BP website gets you 32% off the cover price. My Internet book shop of choice, Barnes and Noble, has the advantage of featuring same day shipping of certain items in Manhattan, and a deep discount also. For a fellow that's pretty into instant gratification, like me, that's a powerful feature.

But there's nothing that appeases instant gratification like purchasing a book in the store. Sure, you're paying full price. But there's no waiting for UPS or USPS to bring you your book. You get it in your greedy little hands immediately.

In the morning, I resisted. I knew I'd have a frustrating morning of waiting around the courthouse for a five minute conference--and I figured my employers would rather I spent that time working on my cases than puzzling in awe over the John Vander Wal player comment.

In the evening, with a snowstorm in full effect, my willpower was non-existent. When I took the book up to the register, I asked for a bag, because of the elements. She looked at the book as she bagged it, and said "Let the obsessing begin."

I was too pleased with my purchase to ask her if she was referring to the book or to the weather.
Now, while the arrival of BP 2005 is reason enough for baseball overload, when I got home things kicked into a whole new gear. Waiting in my mailbox was a copy of Lee Sinins's Sabermetric Baseball Encyclopedia. I'd ordered it last week, for the first time, and quite frankly I expected it to take a lot longer to get here.

So I got home, "in single digits," as La Chiquita says (i.e., before 10:00 pm) and after all the hows-your-days and whatnot, I was at my computer, BP 2005 propped up on one side, a list of lefthanded youngsters compiling on the screen for one of my projects. Heaven.

****

On a mildly disconnected topic, there's more to the baseball overload than BP's book and Lee's CD. There's also been a good bit of baseball content put out on the Internet, and a changing scene in the blogosphere to match it.

It struck me as I went to Baseball Analysts.com, to look up an official definition of "sabermetric" for La Chiquita, who was asking about it both in terms of the SBE and the foreword to BP 2005 (you've gotta love a girl who's at least willing to read the foreword of your dorky baseball book). I remembered that I'd seen the definition on the BB Analysts site--by Bill James and quoted to Bill James by his interviewer, Rich Lederer.

BB Analysts is one of the more celebrated new baseball sites on the 'net, a collaboration between Lederer of Rich's Weekend Baseball BEAT fame (you might remember me going on and on about Rich's terrific "Abstracts from the Abstracts" book review series) and Bryan Smith, prospect maven and proprietor of the Wait Til Next Year blog. They're really doing a great job, and the site has hit the ground running with a three part story in which they asked baseball writers, bloggers, and a few others about their favorite players.

This kind of talent consolidation has been creeping over the baseball blogging scene. The trend setter here was Fabian McNally, who shut down his prospect-oriented Yankees blog (Minor Yankee Blog), to join Larry Mahnken's crew at Replacement Level Yankee. Last week, Cliff Corcoran, of Cliff's Big Red Blog, announced that he's joining Alex Belth at Bronx Banter.

In non-consolidated news, two skilled hands have also hung out their blog banners in the past few weeks. Steven Goldman, of Pinstriped Bible and Baseball Prospectus fame, has now gone dily on the YES Network site with the Pinstriped Blog, and John Sickels, who once wrote the Down on the Farm column for ESPN.com, is now online with the Minor League Ball weblog.

What does it all mean? Other than "Derek's gotta update his links," nothing much...for now.

2004 In Review Part V: At Last, the Conclusion

You might remember this series, which I started in mid-January. If you want to review those long-ago postings, you can find them through the following Roman-numeraled links: Part I, Part II, Part III, and Part IV.

What was the delay, you might wonder? Why bother posting a 2004 In Review once 2005 Spring Training is already underway? Why should anyone care now? Let me explain.

When I started my 2004 In Review series, it was a much less ambitious project. One thing that I was aware of, as I wrote the piece, was that 2004 had been one of the worst years to be a Yankee fan, in a long time. Why? There is a stench of negativity that hangs around the franchise these days. Last year featured many both inside and outside of the blogosphere not simply raging against the Yankees, with their big city ways and bottomless pockets, but challenging Yankee fans: how can you support this franchise? Don't you know that the Yankees represent everything that's wrong with baseball?

In an election year, being a Yankee fan felt like a political choice. Indeed, to this baseball fan, it felt like there was more debate about morally justifying support for the Yankees than there was on any of the genuine issues of the Presidential campaign.

But it was easy to blame outside factors, like the owners' anti-marketing campaign prior to the 2002 Collective Bargaining negotiations, to explain the franchise's fall from grace. Something had changed about the team. To look at what had changed about the Yankees, I felt the need to look at the past, at the Yankees throughout the time I've been a fan.

When it came time for me to write up a conclusion, I must admit that my longish look at the past left me in a powerful state of nostalgia. The Yankees weren't just soulful at one time, they were plucky underdogs, fighting to stave off a more than decade long postseason drought. They were an easy team to root for, compared to the 2004 edition.

So when I tried to write up a final word on the 2004 season, it was a total failure. I found that my main analogy, that the Yankees were now like a "straight A student..y'know, the one you thought would get beaten by his parents if he brought home a B" was not only a bit sour, but it had already been used--by the redoubtable Batgirl, as a throw-off line in an email exchange with Alex Belth, recorded at All-Baseball.com.

I'm not a great writer or anything, but I do believe that if you have a piece that doesn't work, you don't publish it for the hell of it. You shelve the thing until you have something to say that's worth saying.

I think I have it now. The 2004 Yankees were like Jerome Eugene Morrow.

Don't go over to Baseball Reference to look up Morrow's stats--he's a character from the much-overlooked 1997 movie Gattaca. If you haven't seen it, go rent it and view it right now. I'm serious. I know it takes a while to get to Blockbuster, or update your Netflix waiting list and actually receive the DVD, but that's OK. I'll wait.

***

Wasn't that good? OK, so you probably didn't bother to go rent a film just in order to finish a lousy blog entry, so for those of you who didn't take my advice, I'll sum up Gattaca for you. The movie imagines a future in which genetic engineering has gotten to the point where most parents who can afford it have their children genetically modified in vitro--to eliminate unwanted traits, like a tendency toward disease or criminal behavior, and to improve the child's IQ and physical attributes. In this future, your genetic profile is your ID card and your resume; a job interview is simply a blood test where they determine how perfect (or imperfect) your DNA is.

The movie's protagonist is Vincent (Ethan Hawke), a "love child" naturally conceived and born with common genetic deficiencies. As a natural-born human, he's a member of an underclass, fit for nothing better than janitorial work. Vincent, however, has dreams of being an astronaut, so he enlists the aid Jerome "Eugene" Morrow (Jude Law), a top-shelf genetic specimen who's now a paraplegic. Vincent assumes Morrow's identity in order to get into the eponymous space agency, and land a spot on a manned probe of Saturn.

While the movie's about Vincent, I've always been more fascinated by Eugene. You see, Eugene's "perfect" genetics didn't guarantee him success--before he was disabled, he was a world-class swimmer, living down the "disgrace" of a Silver Medal at the Olympics. A "perfect" person isn't ever supposed to finish in second place.

This was the 2004 Yankees. They featured seven recent All-Stars in the lineup--basically, at all positions except second base and DH. The starting rotation had three recent All-Stars (surprisingly, Jon Lieber was an NL All Star in 2001, but Javy Vazquez only made his first All-Star team with the Yankees in 2004), and two more in the bullpen. They'd acquired the best shortstop in baseball, reigning AL MVP Alex Rodriguez, to play third base. It was readily assumed by most commentators that if the Yanks ran into any trouble during the season, they'd simply pick up an All-Star second baseman (the Expos' Jose Vidro) or another All-Star starter (current Yankee Randy Johnson) for the stretch drive.

This was the best team that money could buy, a $184MM juggernaut, considered by some to be undefeatable. Sure, the team had some flaws--no depth in the middle infield, old, injury prone players throughout the roster, bad outfield defense--but it everyone figured that the Yanks' giant wallet could overcome any such adversity.

At the same time, Yankee fans became like the genetically enhanced citizens of the movie world--obsessed with their perceived deficiencies. (Think I'm joking? At one point in the movie, a doctor who administers regular urine tests to Gattaca's employees comments on Vincent's "big unit": "Beautiful piece of equipment you've got there Jerome...Don't know why my folks didn't order one like that for me." Substitute "starting pitcher" for the veiled reference to a penis in that conversation, and you have every Yankee fan call to WFAN last season.)

Of course, the 2004 Yankees weren't invincible. Most of their hitters (with the notable exceptions of the Incredible Inflateable Firstbaseman and the reigning MVP) performed up to or exceeded expectations, but the starting pitching turned to crap. Still, they were good enough to finish in first place, before the Worst Nightmare Imaginable occurred. The "perfect" team with an "insurmountable" lead lost to their worst enemies--and the world cheered.

Surprisingly, the Yankees hadn't reloaded with more All-Stars at the 2004 trading deadline. Paradoxically, their division rivals had done the exact opposite, sending off their All-Star shortstop with the eight figure salary in exchange for a couple of Not-Quite-Stars, Orlando Cabrera and Doug Mientkiewicz.

Both of those Not-Quite-Stars have World Series rings coming in the mail. Dougie Spelling Error owns a World Series game ball. What gives?

The Yankees' reaction to failure has been even greater obsession with their "genetic" failings. "Not enough starting pitching! Brown and El Duque were too old! Get the best on the market, and make a couple of them not too old!" Enter Carl Pavano, Jaret Wright, and Randy Johnson.

What's disappointing about this approach isn't the well-documented questions about Pavano and Wright's performance, or Johnson's age. It's the "sure thing" approach that they embody. The Yankees take no chances--not by trying to fix Javy Vazquez, rather than dealing him away for a more accomplished pitcher, not by handing the fifth starter spot over to a prospect rather than a guy that was waiver fodder a couple of years ago.

In Gattaca, society is in decay because a person's genetics are considered their destiny, the same way that some in baseball consider a team's payroll to be their destiny. If you know your destiny, if it can be read on a genetic sequencer or in USA Today's Salary Database, what's the point of any contest? Vincent's success in that society is that he shrugs off his destiny and takes risks--he could be found out as an impostor at any moment, but that doesn't deter him.

The Yankees used to take risks. In 1996, the year they finally won it all, the Yanks reluctantly handed the shortstop position over to an unproven 22 year old. It looks like a sure thing in retrospect, but Derek Jeter could've fallen on his face, he could've had an April and May like he did in 2004--lookin' up at the Mendoza line with no relief in sight--and the brass in Tampa probably would've sent him back to Columbus, or shipped him off to Anaheim for Gary DiSarcina. Luckily, he hit from the beginning--a homer on Opening Day, in Cleveland--and the rest is history. The Yanks got similarly lucky with Andy Pettitte, Mariano Rivera, Bernie Williams, and Jorge Posada. But they deserve credit for taking some risks, rather than burying these prospects under an avalanche of "sure things."

Developing prospects is risky. Think about all the highly-touted guys the Yanks developed in the Exile Era that didn't quite pan out--guys like Ricky Ledee and Sterling Hitchcock are the good ones. Think about Brien Taylor, the Yanks' #1 overall pick in 1991. His career went down the tubes in the blink of an eye, in an off-season scuffle that wrecked his shoulder. Think about Ruben Rivera, top prospect turned memorabilia thief.

Is there a Ruben Rivera in the Yankee farm system right now? A Brien Taylor? Sure, they fell on their faces, but they were something to look forward to.

The bromide is that you have to court failure to achieve success. That's what the Red Sox did when they traded Garciaparra. I still think Boston's good results cloud the fact that it wasn't a good trade, but you have to give them props for having the cojones to take a chance.

I'm frustrated because the Yanks didn't court failure in 2004, and likely won't in 2005. I cheered for this team last year, and I'll do so again this year. They're not a bad bunch of guys. But somewhere inside I yearn for the time when the Yankees are willing to court failure again.

I really want to see that Yankee team.

Giambi, A-Rod, and the Curse of Ricky Bottalico

Chris, the proprietor of Red Sox blog From Back Bay to the Promised Land, had this to say about Jason Giambi earlier this week, in the comments section:

OK, so now that we've had a few days to chew on it, was it worth it for Giambi to show up last Thursday? I've tossed this around a bit on my blog, and with some convincing I can appreciate Giambi's need to protect his legal position. But if he can't say he's sorry, why should he be asking people for forgiveness? If he has nothing to give Yankee fans, he doesn't deserve jack shit in return.

Personally, I would go further to say that if he knowingly cheated the game, he doesn't deserve forgiveness even if he does properly ask for it. But that's just one Bostonian's opinion.

This, naturally, was in reaction to Jason Giambi's non-news conference last week, where he mysteriously apologized for wrongs he could not mention. The whole thing was kinda stupid and bizarre. Giambi's agent, Arn Tellem, was there to suggest that you could infer what Jason was talking about, even if he wasn't talking about it. Joe Torre was there to keep a straight face and lend an undeserved air of dignity to the proceedings. And Brian Cashman was there, I'm sure, to tear up Giambi's contract on the spot if the Giambino admitted to steroid use.

Didn't I warn everyone about this?

Was it worth it for Giambi to show up at this press conference? Sure. Jason got his first bit of public exposure out of the way, under very controled circumstances. Until last Thursday, Giambi was a guy that had "gone into hiding" after his grand jury testimony was leaked to the press. He was a coward, ducking the mighty New York media.

Now, he's gone on the record. Not that he's actually placed much on the record, but now the reporters know that he's not commenting on the grand jury story except to say that he told the grand jury the truth. (That's a really brave position to take, since the alternative is admitting you committed perjury.)

Still, this one silly, awkward appearance will pay dividends down the road. If some reporter tries to give him the Jim Gray treatment around the batting cage at Legends Field, Giambi can point out that he has apologized, and that he's not allowed to say anything further. It's not a solution to his problems, but it defuses the situation somewhat.

As for whether Giambi deserves forgiveness...not yet, anyway. Part of apologizing is acknowleging what you did wrong. Until Jason can tell us what the heck he's apologizing about, it's an empty gesture. Hitting some steroid-free home runs might also be a nice way of making amends, at least to Yankee fans.

Was being on the juice, pre-2003, cheating? MLB didn't have any rules against steroids, but they were, nonetheless, illegal drugs (on a lower restricted schedule than cocaine, if I recall correctly). Unlike the acclaimed chatterbox, Jose Canseco, you get the feeling from the leaked BALCO testimony that Giambi knew that what he was doing was wrong, when he was doing it. At the same time, Giambi seems to have received his punishment, in the form of tumors, patellar tendonitis, parasites, and staph infections of the eyes. So it's hard to sit in judgment.

Because of Giambi's non-apology last Thursday, the day of judgment has been postponed. We'll see what happens if Jason can ever admit what he's sorry for.

***

The off-season's big pasttime for Boston Red Sox players has been baiting the Yankees, and specifically Alex Rodriguez. First, Curt Schilling lit into Alex with some unprovoked negativity, and now Trot Nixon has gotten into the act.

It'd be easy to go into some rant on having class and acting like you've been there before. The fact is, I think that the Boys in Soxland have taken to picking on Alex because it's an easy applause line for their audience in the Red Sox Nation. In politics, they call this "pandering to your base."

Still, Trot's an odd choice to tear down A-Rod, particularly since Alex outhit him handily in the ALCS. At least Schilling had the whole "stigmata ankle" thing going, which pretty much entitles him to say whatever he pleases, no matter how silly it sounds, until the day of his retirement.

Just like with this rivalry after the Aaron F'ing Boone ALCS in 2003, some things, we'll just have to settle on the field. My advice to Rodriguez is to save the newspaper clippings, and take extra batting practice. Everyone talks big in February. We'll see where things stand in October.

***

Earlier, I posted with great pride a link to my PTP at Baseball Prospectus. Looking back, I see at least one detail that leaves me red-faced. In the Marlins section, comparing the 2005 Mets and the 2005 Marlins, I have Ricky Bottalico as the Mets' 3rd-best reliever.

That wouldn't be an undefendable proposition, if Bottalico hadn't signed with the Brewers in mid January.

We'll have to chalk this one up as E-10 (writer, bobble). Not the first, and certainly won't be the last.

Sunrise, Sunset

Kind of spooky: just as Spring Training opened, kicking off the renewal ritual which is baseball, the door slammed shut on the hockey season.

The loss of the 2004-2005 NHL season is a gut punch to a league that was already going under faster than the Titanic. For professional hockey's future, it's pretty scary that the overwhelming reaction has been indifference. Fans seemed disappointed, but resigned to the idea of losing this season. If I was a TV executive, seeing how well the NHL's fans are taking this lockout, I'd never invest a single red penny in the sport, ever again.

During the baseball strike of '94, you had people cursing and yelling and swearing that they'd never go to the ballpark again (ten years later, I wonder how many of those oaths have held?). Sure, it was anger and negative press, but at least you could tell that there was passion on the subject. Baseball fans had a pulse.

Now, part of the reason that hockey fans aren't rioting in the streets is because of a pretty good PR campaign, by the owners, about how completely unprofitable their business is. Lots of fans have been so keyed with stories of the NHL's financial woes, that they seem to be saying, "Well, if this is what needs to happen for hockey to survive, so be it. A plague on both their houses, for not getting this thing done."

I can see their point. Unlike baseball, I don't doubt that a good number of hockey franchises are really hurting, financially. Ten years ago, after the Rangers won the Stanley Cup, there was a wave of what Alan Greenspan would call "irrational exuberance" about hockey. I remember FOX getting all excited because they got the NHL's broadcast rights, and they were going to "change the game" with their glowing puck concept.

Please, don't ask.

Since then, the ratings tanked, and you now have a pretty hard time finding NHL hockey anywhere on the dial. There are a ton of culprits: the neutral zone defense, reckless expansion, and teams moving across the border as the Canadian Dollar weakened, to name a few.

But a plague on both their houses? It's nuts. This is a lockout, not a strike--the players didn't walk off the job, the owners simply decided not to open up shop until they'd wrung a few concessions out of the guys. According to reports, the players offered to cut back on their existing contracts by 24%, plus a salary cap. You remember that $4 Million contract we signed last year. Here, take a million back, I don't need it.

I've never heard of such a thing. Every other labor negotiation I've ever followed, the contracts that were already signed were grandfathered in (like Shaq's contract in the NBA). It's shocking that the owners were willing to turn that offer down.

For some reason, sports fans are cockeyed when it comes to labor problems. Unlike labor battles everywhere else, we sympathize with the owners (poor boys, having to pay all that money!) and we get angry with the laborers (probably because we mind when our peers get paid a few thousand times more money than we do).

Focusing just on our inexplicable good will toward management, I don't get it. By and large people don't suffer fools. But when a bunch of sports team owners screw up--expanding too fast, dishing out salaries they can't afford--we get watery-eyed. Those nasty players should give those nice owners a salary cap! Can't you see that otherwise they'll spend themselves to death?

This good hearted tendency to want to save people from themselves isn't generally applied to folks in bankruptcy or drug addicts or people on the dole, just to sports team owners. When our spendthrift friend (and generally speaking, if you don't think you have a friend who can't handle their money, then you are that friend) blows their whole paycheck on an insane shopping spree, we never say, "Macy's should give you a 24% discount on all that stuff you bought. Couldn't they see you can't afford it?" or "They should really have a limit on how much you can buy at their store, y'know, to keep stuff like this from happening!"

Every sports contract, no matter how stupid it seemed at the time or now in retrospect, was signed by a team owner willingly. Sometimes eagerly. It's not like the problem is that the minimum salary is too high, or that it costs too much to maintain the pension plan. Those kind of costs are set in a Collective Bargaining Agreement, and those obligatory costs are usually what labor and management are arguing about whenever they have a conflict. I'm talking about air traffic controllers, cops, and sanitation workers, here.

Not sports owners. The problem most of these guys face is discretionary spending--when given discretion, they spend too damn much.

Usually, when someone doesn't exercise control of their discretionary spending, we're not too tolerant of their behavior. A lot of talk about sleeping in the bed you've made. We make an exception for sports, and I just can't figure why.

PTP'ing It

New Prospectus Triple Play up at Baseball Prospectus, today. In it, I answer important questions such as "What's a proper use for Tony Womack?" (sadly, "parking attendant", "doorstop" and "pet rock" weren't options I had the time to get into) and "What if Jason Giambi did relationship counseling?"

Please enjoy. I'm extra excited about this one, because--unlike my previous PTP's, which ran on the Baseball Prospectus byline, with no individual author credit--this time I'm credited as the author of the piece. Now, that's not the first time it's happened, but it still feels pretty good.

Triple Hearsay

New York Daily News - Baseball - Jason back in swing, trainer tells Sturtze

This one's courtesy McCarron at the Daily News. You know it's a slow news day when anyone--and I mean anyone--cares what Jason Giambi's trainer (the ever-controversial Bob Alejo) told Tanyon Sturtze about Jason Giambi's condition.

I mean, Alejo is Jason's trainer, and Sturtze is Jason's "close friend." What the heck are they going to say? "Jason's a washed up scrub"? "He can't even outhit his little brother anymore"? Of course they're gonna say he's coming back, better than ever. This is a non-story, on the same level as one of those "I heard from my hairdresser, whose cousin lives next door to Julia Roberts' accountant..."

By the way, as the personal trainer for an admitted steroid abuser, shouldn't Bobby Alejo disappear right about now? If Jason's really trying to turn over a new leaf, shouldn't a change of the personnel he keeps around him be in order?

Farther down in the piece Sturtze does have some actual news, revealing that even though he's a native New Englander:

"I'll never enjoy the Red Sox winning again," Sturtze said. "Those days are over for me and I'm very happy to say they're over."

Very touching. Very touching indeed.

Now, onto some possibly real news. Jason Giambi is now scheduled to address the media on Thursday, at the Stadium, his first public comments since the steroid story came to light. According to Tyler Kepner of the New York Times:

Late yesterday, the Yankees announced that [the press conference] would be at Yankee Stadium, with strict ground rules. They have invited each newspaper that regularly covers the team to send no more than two reporters.

Giambi will meet with the print media in one location, and Cashman and Torre may be in the room with him. After that meeting, Giambi will speak with television reporters in a separate room.

"No more than two reporters" per paper doesn't sound particularly strict (specially given the story's headline, "Yanks Script Giambi's Talk With Media") but the separate news conferences sound like a great idea, from the Yankees point of view. I would think that nobody knows how Jason's going to react to the questioning, or quite sure what he's going to say. If he does a bad job in front of the print guys, they could possibly cancel the broadcast portion of media day as a damage control measure. If he passes the grilling with the reporters, he gets to go in front of the cameras.

This is the first indication that the Yanks are circling wagons around Giambi, and are reconciled with the fact that they can't get rid of him. Hopefully, that commitment extends far enough that Jason can talk openly about his steroid use--without fear that any admission will be grounds for the Yankees to terminate his contract--and apologize for having broken the law, having lied about it, and having cheated. Because until he makes that admission, and those apologies, his life as a Yankee is going to be a living hell.

Anyone Speak Korean?

These cartoons are way cool...and would be even cooler, if I knew what they meant. First saw them over at Batgirl's site, and now they have a Primer thread where a number of Korean Primates--particularly "impatton" and "Cheng"--have been translating them to the crowd's delight.

They haven't gotten to the Yankee team page yet, and I'm just full of questions. Why is ARod watching a skin flick? Why is there a baby attached to the handle of Sheff's bat? I gots to know!

Bullet Point Bowl Day

As we approach football's blessed exit from the American Stage, a few notes on a much better sport, Baseball:

• Tyler Kepner has a nice profile of Brian Cashman up at the Times. It fits right in with Will Carroll's GM projects, in which he's called out to his public to 1) identify the qualities possessed by the current Major League GMs, and 2) speculate as to whom in the blogging or baseball writing arena might have the right stuff to get those jobs. If you have two cents to add to that conversation, drop a comment over at Will Carroll Presents...

• The Yanks have given Buddy Groom a Spring Training NRI. The best quote on this came from Brian Cashman, who was definitely able to curb his enthusiasm: ``I just compare him to what we have,'' Yankees general manager Brian Cashman said. ``Is he better than some of our insurance? Yes, he is.'' (AP).

• On Super Bowl Day, naturally the story is going to be about steroids...in baseball. According to Michael O'Keefe of the Daily News, Canseco's busy outing everyone he's ever played ball with in his new book, "Juiced". I'm kinda curious about the chapter that covers his cup of coffee with the 2000 Yankees, when he was acquired as a defensive move, and the team really didn't want him, at all.

• Saw "Hotel Rwanda" last night, and it's the best 2004 movie I've seen (bumping "Before Sunset" off the top of the list). Mind you, I haven't yet seen any of the big contenders. "Sideways," "Ray," and "Finding Neverland" are on the list of movies I want to see, "The Aviator" and "Million Dollar Baby," I'm not likely to see--the former because La Chiquita hates Leo DiCaprio, the latter because I've simply heard too many negative reviews of it.
  

Back to "Rwanda," the movie does a great job of taking a story we've seen before--"connected" guy with a conscience protects folks from genocide--and not making it seem like a "Schindler's List" derivative. The movie does a good job by not going into the root causes of the Rwandan conflict, instead focusing on the genocide itself: neighbors suddenly turning against each other, radio shows coordinating murderous militias, the international community standing to one side and letting the whole thing happen.

The movie hinges on the lead performance, and luckily, Don Cheadle nails it. Cheadle's the best-kept secret in Hollywood, a phenomenal actor strong enough to carry a lead role, with a character actor's resume. Cheadle's perfect as the manager of a four star hotel, a master of Western amenities, who comes to realize that the Western powers he idealizes will not save him from the hatred inside of Rwanda. He definitely deserves the Best Actor nomination, and Hotel Rwanda definitely deserves your attention.

As I've said before, the Super Bowl's a great day for me. It marks the end of football season, creates the lead-in to Spring Training, which is a little more than a week away. Enjoy!

What's My Name?

A quick entry to remind everyone I'm still alive, and that baseball still exists in the Super Bowl void...

Here's a couple of headlines, one of them Yankee-related:

Yogi Sues TBS Over Sex and the City Ads (Smoking Gun)

MLBPA Signs Over Fantasy Baseball Rights (Darren Rovell ABC News)

Two baseball stories this week, both on what we legal types call the Right of Publicity. In layman's terms, that's the right to control use of your name and likeness, and it's sometimes cast in terms of a right to privacy.

In Yogi's case, he's suing for $10MM for an ad that TBS put out for its re-runs of Sex and the City. The ad asked for a definition of one of the show's lamer catch-words, the "yogasm," giving as one multiple-choice answer "Sex with Yogi Berra."

Now, the problem is that under the law of New York, if you're going to use someone's name or photo in an advertisement, you'd better get their permission first. Nobody bothered to get a permission from Yogi before releasing this ad.

One of the top ways to protect your name and your right to it is to do a high-profile suit against anyone who steps over the line, even a little bit. Yogi's claim for $10MM over a stupid advertisement may seem like a petty stunt, but in this case, Yogi's name is his livelihood. It doesn't hurt that he might not be the biggest Sex and the City fan, or that the ad suggested Kim Catrall's character might've done something only Mrs. Berra is supposed to be doing.

Guaranteed, there won't be as many articles written when this case settles, as were written about the initial complaint.

The other bit is about baseball fantasy games (which sounds like something you might find on Anna Benson's website, but it just really refers to Rotisserie-style baseball roster games). For years, if you wanted to use the names of the various major leaguers in relation to a game, you'd have to license the names from the player's union. Ditto for the team names, which you'd have to license from Major League Baseball.

If you're a video game devotee, I'm sure you're familiar with at least one game that featured teams and player statistics that seemed pretty close to their real-life counterparts, but all the names had been scrambled, like a baseball Witness Protection Program. In other words, the Arizona Diamondbacks might be called the "Phoenix Snakes," and that tall, intimidating lefty might be called "Tommy Long" instead of "Randy Johnson." Oh, and because his likeness as well as his name were protected, in the video game, the Unit's avatar might be a black guy with a Fu Manchu moustache, instead of a white guy with a beard. Those were the unlicensed products.

What might not have been as intuitive is that MLB and the MLBPA were also licensing the use of names for online fantasy baseball games--and, by association, claiming the right to license your do-it-yourself local rotisserie league (do these things even exist, anymore?). The claim is that a player's stats are as much part of his "identity" as his name and his face.

This isn't an uncontroversial question. Lots of fantasy game providers have paid licensing to the MLBPA and MLB, probably because it's cheaper than litigating. But there is generally an exception to the right of publicity for news and newsworthy individuals. That is, if someone takes a picture Jason Giambi on the street, the New York Post wouldn't need to get Giambi's permission to run the photo--so long as it was part of a news item. One could argue that a player's major league stats are simply news items, and that any news outlet is free to report them without paying any stinking licensing fees.

The story I've linked is one about how MLB and the MLBPA have consolidated their rights with a single entity: MLB Advanced Media. MLB controlling these rights is a concern, because MLB Media offers a number of fantasy games online. The Major League teams being the little monopolists that they are, the worry is that might want to run every other Fantasy Baseball outlet on earth (like Yahoo, ESPN, and FOX Sports) out of business with non-competitive pricing.

It's not likely to happen, but if it does, these issues of publicity could start percolating through the Courts as early as this Spring.