3/30/2007 1:24:56 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

I really hope this is a joke.

If Shaughnessy thinks the people who log on to Schilling's blog are "fanboys" and "sycophants" — and most of them aren't, they're simply asking the questions that lazy, jaded journalists who hate baseball and get "bored" at spring training won't — he should take a look at this site.

As if the Derek Jeter ball-washing and the unflagging belief in "mystique and aura" over at NYYFans weren't enough, "Project A13: The Ant-Boos Movement" has the baseball world beat when it comes to blending towering arrogance and abject hero worship.

Its mission is two-fold: to stop the booing of this god among men, and to be the spark that restores him to his former omnipotent glory. "Now that Alex has chosen to stay and fight, and we have chosen to be positive and support him for this decision, what we must do now is believe."

And that's really what this project is about, isn't it?

Coming together.

Being part of something that's bigger than ourselves...something that we can all feel good about. Human beings by nature gravitate towards one another—towards family and towards community—which is the reason fans feel so much camaraderie in and amongst other fans. We can all relate to each other's experiences, like appreciating the pride, the joy, and the pain of our heroes' daily exploits. This is what makes American Sport such a great outlet for life—especially baseball.

And where there are numbers, there is power, or so the saying goes.

Indeed, the power we hold in our hands, as a large, unified, community of fans is incredible. How we wield this power and for what purpose is our responsibility, and it's one that should not be taken lightly. At our very worst, when we give in to the tabloids and the experts and the negative thirst of the media, we have the ability to destroy an athlete—to erode his confidence down to the point where his mental game conflicts with the proper function of his physical game.

A.K.A., the current state of Alex Rodriguez: twenty-four errors, extended strikeout-filled slumps, .071 versus Detroit.

At our very best, when we rise above the primal urge to identify, expose, and attack another man's weakness, we have the ability to lift an athlete up off the dirt, put that confidence back in his bat, and watch him feed off the positive energy to the tune of both personal and public redemption—to the tune of greatness, if we let him.

Are you ready to believe?

(Make sure the sound is on for optimal effect.)

3/27/2007 3:52:28 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/26/2007 3:23:16 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

What a joke.

EDIT: This just in!

"Putting his inherent 'toolness' on display for all the world to see..."

Man, it's fun living in this town sometimes.

3/26/2007 10:20:50 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

If Papelbon’s OK with it...

If Papelbon’s mom is OK with it...

If Julian Tavarez is OK with it...

If the coaching staff and doctors and front office are OK with it...

I guess I’m OK with it too.

Onward.

3/23/2007 1:17:35 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

So, is it happening already? Or am I freaking out over nothing?

Not near a TV, but these reports from the SoSH game thread are a bit worrisome.

"Is Papelbon throwing below 3/4 and closer to side arm or am I just seeing things?"

"It definitely looks like a different arm angle. Not quite side arm though..."

"I just came to post this. WTF is he doing?"

"Yep, he is throwing lower than normal, wierd."

Could it be that he's changing his mechanics to protect his arm for the long haul? Is this possibly a good thing? No idea.

But you know what they say about "If it ain't broke?"

Maybe I just need to take a deep breath.

At least Schilling's not worried.

3/22/2007 3:10:59 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Just got back from watching a few innings of the Red Sox-Phillies game on TV at Boston Beer Works.

(Spring is in the air...home opener is in less than three weeks...Fenway is getting spruced up and should be ready on time.)

Wake was getting knocked around a bit, and Jamie Moyer was looking pretty good. Then Wily Mo blasted one deeeeeep to left. (He also looks pretty good — VERY good — every time he connects. Every other time, he looks awful.)

Later on, Wakefield walked, Cora legged out an infield dink to third, and Youkilis, whose goatee grows more frightening by the day, launched another one to make the score 4-2.

Anyway, about this time Papelbon was in the pen, tossing around a weighted yellow softball. No surprise there. He was scheduled to relieve Wake this game. As the camera fixed on him, the sound was off. I noticed they had ace reporter Erin Andrews on the line, but could not hear what she was saying.

Now I do.

Papelbon is gonna close.

I’d seen the article in the Herald this morning, but just wrote it off as another bit off filler as we ramp up to opening day. Sure, he might take the reigns if everyone else spits the bit.

But it appears that, with a week-plus still left to go in spring training, the decision has been made: Paps to the pen, Tavarez will be the fifth starter.

Dunno about you, but I’m nervous, nervous, nervous about this one.

Of course, it serves a glaring need. And of course crazy JT is better starting (as he showed late last season) than closing.

But this strikes me as a move premised on desperation rather than confidence. The official announcement has yet to be made, and there may be news that I don’t know. But the whole reason we even considered slotting him in the rotation was the regular workload that would ease the strain on his shoulder. Now, before the season has even started, we’ve already signed him up for the uneven, stressful workload of a Major League closer. What changed between yesterday and today?

Of course we know he can handle it. He’s a gamer, and he spits nails. He wants to help any way he can.

But what about his shoulder? If he has another “transient subluxation event” I’m gonna puke. (“Transient upchuck-desperation event”?)

Believe me, the thought of a hothead with control problems like Tavarez closing games gave me fits, too.

And if Papelbon can put together a season even approaching what he did before he was shut down last year, then we’re in great shape — whether the fifth starter is Tavarez, Lester (can we assume he's a lot further along than we'd hoped?), or even Snyder.

But I’d be lying if I said this didn’t make me very, very uneasy.

3/22/2007 1:35:07 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/21/2007 2:52:32 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/20/2007 2:02:06 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

So he's gonna bat tomorrow?

Two requests:

1) None of this.

2) One of these.

3/15/2007 3:18:44 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/13/2007 3:01:01 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

Dude, we’re definitely gonna win the East.

Darrell Rasner? Total freaking pwnage.

Ross Ohlendorf? All his pitch are belong to us.

Am I worried at all that Wakefield looked very shaky while Carl Pavano (he of the bruised buttocks, strained shoulder, bad back, two broken ribs, and elbow chips) suddenly looked actually kinda sorta decent?

Not a whit. Why should any of that matter? We BEAT THE YANKEES in a very important game.

Seriously, though, kudos to the bullpen for a solid outing. Even if it was against titanic mashers like Miguel Cairo and Bronson Sardinha.  

Etc.
How could Hart Brachen miss this epochal showdown?

What is Manny hiding under his helmet?

Poor Youk. It’s gotta be tough living in Boston on only $424,000 a year. (In fairness, though, he is hitting the snot of the ball this spring. And it’s pretty kooky that his backup is making 13 times what he is.)

Armando Benitez? No thanks.

Hideki Matsui’s head is enormous.

3/13/2007 10:39:40 AM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/12/2007 2:14:56 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/7/2007 5:46:35 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

 


Just his typical slacker self. This is pretty funny, though.

3/5/2007 6:18:11 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

3/5/2007 12:40:42 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

      

This is a few days old, but after I saw it linked on Mnookin’s blog, I just had to comment.

As Red Sox fans, we’re all well-aware, and have been for some time, what a hacktastic hater of the Carmine Hose Murray Chass really is. But one recent New York Times column, in which he loudly trumpets his ignorance of and disdain for sabermetric analysis must be seen to be believed.

Like crotchety old Andy Rooney, Chass lists the “things I don’t want to read or hear about anymore” as opening day approaches. Last item on the list? VORP.

Fine, he’s old man, who came of age in a time of chaw-stained scouting reports and cigar-smoky clubhouses. It’s understandable that he’s not a card-carrying member of SABR. But for a newspaperman, this is inexcusable:

To me, VORP epitomized the new-age nonsense. For the longest time, I had no idea what VORP meant and didn’t care enough to go to any great lengths to find out. I asked some colleagues whose work I respect, and they didn’t know what it meant either.

Finally, not long ago, I came across VORP spelled out. It stands for value over replacement player. How thrilling. How absurd. Value over replacement player. Don’t ask what it means. I don’t know.

I suppose that if stats mongers want to sit at their computers and play with these things all day long, that’s their prerogative. But their attempt to introduce these new-age statistics into the game threatens to undermine most fans’ enjoyment of baseball and the human factor therein.

People play baseball. Numbers don’t.

It’s really breathtaking if you think about it. Leave aside for a moment the wrong-headedness of his opinion. Here is a man who is paid to write about a particular sport — presumably because he knows more about that sport than most, and therefore what he has to say about that sport is of more interest and pertinence than, say, the ravings of some half-drunk blowhard calling in to WEEI.

And here is Chass, loudly braying about how closed his mind is, how he’s too lazy to even “find out” what VORP is, that he refuses to even think about something that might be trouble his beautiful mind. As Mnookin puts it:

It’s been a good long time since I’ve heard a reporter actually brag about his total and utter lack of curiosity regarding his work. One of the biggest changes in baseball over the last decade has been the emphasis on using everything possible to understand the game. This doesn’t undermine enjoyment of the game any more than learning the historical references contained in Shakespeare plays leeches the enjoyment out of a night at the theatre. Information is knowledge, as that hoary old cliché goes. Lord knows Murray ain’t much one for knowledge — he practically shouts his ignorance from the rooftops every time he puts pen to paper — but it’s embarrassing for him to beat his chest about it.

It’s one thing for a guy like Joe Morgan to be utterly oblivious and hostile to these new ways of looking at the game. He’s “only” a broadcaster. But Chass is a respected columnist for the paper of record. I’m not asking for him to embrace sabermetric analysis, or even to like it. But for a baseball writer to be so proud of his hidebound worldview is depressing, to say the least.

See also:

* Baseball Prospectus’s “Open Letter to Murray Chass”

* FireJoeMorgan’s hilarious fisking of the excerpt at hand. Best line:

Murray Chass: New age new age new age new age the end. My column's done!

Nurse: Very good, Murray! We're going out into the garden now for some fresh air. The garden. Won't that be fun?

* My interview with Baseball Prospectus's Steven Goldman, in which he reveals that — gasp! — statheads and scouts really can get along: "These are areas that are complementary to each other. I don’t know if one should be supreme, you’ve just gotta have an open mind and take in all the input that you can when making an evaluation of a player."

What a revolutionary and dangerous concept.

*******

Meanwhile, over at the Herald, Michael Silverman has done what no one thought was possible.

Undaunted by Manny Ramirez’s infamous reticence, he’s actually reported an insightful and fair-minded story about the enigmatic slugger™ that tells us more about Manny than pretty much anything I’ve read in his six-year tenure with this team.

Who woulda thunk? Instead of writing column after column after column blathering on and on about what a weird, selfish, weird, malingering, weird prima donna weirdo the guy is, bemoaning the fact that he doesn’t talk to reporters and that he’ll always — always! — be defended by his sycophantic fanboys, Silverman did something different.

He wrote a column about why Manny is so good. Why he’s a lock for Cooperstown. Why he does what he does, and how he’s become the player he is. Manny wouldn’t assent to an interview? Big deal. Silverman actually, like, went out and talked to the people who know him best: Julian Tavarez, and the trainers with whom he spends nearly every waking hour.

Key excerpts:

Manny was being Manny long before he came to Boston, and he’s going to keep on being Manny after he leaves - and well after he delivers what is going to be one hell of a Hall of Fame induction speech.

Ramirez can infuriate, he can behave inexcusably and he can change his mind before he makes it up. In the end, however, he wants to be one of the best hitters in baseball. That truth is as plain and simple as Ramirez is.

Hiding in plain sight in front of us since 2001, Ramirez reveals himself with a private, intense pregame routine that has helped him master his craft.

To reach his goal (and he is succeeding), Ramirez permanently wears blinders, shielding himself from the rest of the world. He has decided that explaining himself or his methods is pretty much a waste of time and energy - resources he’d rather devote to getting better....

When Dave Page, the strength and conditioning coach, hears the phone ring in his hotel room, he usually can guess who’s on the other end.

“Every day in the morning, he’ll call me and it’s, ’Meet me in the lobby at 10 o’clock,’” said Page. “I’ve been in baseball for nine years in the major leagues, and by far, Manny is the most consistent and most intense workout guy I’ve ever had. I think he enjoys it. He comes in in the morning, lifts and works out, goes home for some lunch and a nap, and then he’s back here, running with the pitchers every day and then batting practice.

“I know he doesn’t like to miss a day. If there’s a late game and we have a morning game the next day, he still has to do something. It’s as much of a mental thing for him than it is physical. He’s very loyal to his routine.”...

Tavarez cannot see or understand Ramirez. He can only see what Ramirez cares about.

“People are good at hiding things, to keep it inside, but I know that deep in his heart, he wants to be one of the greatest players in the game,” said Tavarez. “If he doesn’t want to be one of those great players, then why is he working so hard?

“He cares, he just is not going to show it to you. He’s always going to give a smile, he’s always playing around with the guys, but his mind is on the game.

“He’s got a lot of goals in his head he wants to reach. He knows you’re not going to help him, I’m not going to help him. He’s the one who has to do it with the bat, with (the) intention, “I want it, I want it.” He says to himself that he wants it. I know, because when he wants to do something, he’ll do it.”

I’ve sad it before, and I’ll say it again. (And I will probably have to say it again after this.) Can’t we just accept that the guy is a unique human being who likes to keep to himself? He’s not mean. He’s not on the juice. He’s not a clubhouse cancer. He’s just Manny.

Could it be that so much  this controversy over the years, all those trade requests, might stem from the fact that he just doesn’t like living under a microscope? Can’t we all just leave him alone, let him train, and watch him hit?

I think we’d all be a lot happier.

3/2/2007 5:18:32 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |  

So is Curt Schilling changing the name of his MMORPG company from Green Monster Games to 38Studios so as to distance himself from the Red Sox lest his final year is played in another uniform?

Let’s hope not. If the paltry 19 pitches he threw last night (18 fastballs and a slider) are any indication whatsoever — and they may not be — it would behoove us to keep him around for a while. Schill looked crisp and sharp, throwing 15 of those tosses for strikes, giving up just two hits and no runs.

And, like clockwork, that first “start” of the season found him posting online at SoSH almost as soon as the game was over:

Ah the game threads. As much a right of passage as the game itself in this nation, great to be able to check in again and see who's ripping whom :)

"Schill looks a little pudgy"

Has there been a time, since my embryonic state, that I haven't?

245 pds 9/28/06

243 pds 2/28/07

I'll shave 8 more off by opening day but damned if I won't still look pudgy. Kapler I am not.

Point taken.

In other news...

I will be starting up my own blog in the near future that I will be posting to frequently over the next few years.

Aiming to tie in Shonda's Shade Foundation, the ALS Association and the computer gaming company as parts of it, background stuff really, while I post about baseball, and other stuff people might like to read about.

Sweet! Shaughnessy must be tearing his curly red hair out.

Other things we learned last night: Julian Tavarez will not be the closer. (Or at least he shouldn’t be.)

But Brendan Donnelly might. And Joel Pineiro, despite giving up two hits and a run, looked intriguing.

And it was great to see Murphy (2 for 3 with a run scored), Pedroia (1 for 2 with two runs scored) and Ellsbury (1 for 3 with two RBI) making some noise in the bottom of the order.

I believe the children are our future.

Although you’ve got to wonder if they look at a guy like Matt White, a prospect who was a good deal less talented than them — remember this nightmare? — and think about maybe getting into the stone quarrying business instead. “Well over $2 billion”? Ye gods.

One more thing: Chin up, Looie.

3/1/2007 12:09:29 PM by Mike Miliard | Comments [0] |