Much Ado About Nothing? (The Juiced Hall Era)

Almost exactly a year ago I posted my concerns about the increasing irrelevance of the Hall of Fame.  I didn't expect there would be much to add this time around.  As predicted, Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven did gain entry on the 2011 ballot, and no accused, confessed, or even merely suspected steroids users got even as high as 50% (with 75% needed for admission).  Several players who I, personally, think very relevant to the history of the sport - especially Dave Parker, Harold Baines, Kevin Brown, and John Franco - got little enough support that they will be dropped from all future ballots, until they are eligible for consideration by the Veterans Committee.

As I stated last year, I am in favor of inclusivity to the highest degree, because I believe that the Hall of Fame is only interesting as a museum of baseball history (it serves this purpose less and less every year).  I think arguments about "diluting" the player pool are frankly silly and condescending, and voting based on issues of ethics and morality utterly ridiculous.  There isn't a single member of the BBWAA that who I'd trust within a hundred yards of a podium or pulpit.  That some of them actually literally think of themselves as "morality police" is beyond laughable.  That they think moral policing is synonymous with acting as "custodians of the game's history" is evidence of actual psychotic delusion.  I would urge all who believe that the narrative of history should be tailored to a specific ideology to take a long look at the definition of propaganda, as well as the careers of Goebbels, Stalin, Joe McCarthy, and David Duke.

The selection process reached a whole new level of absurdity this year.  Foremost and most frighteningly there was the outrageous treatment of Jeff Bagwell.  Bagwell is something of a borderline candidate, based upon the strange numbers game that has historically dictated entry, and bordrline candidates generally don't get in during their first few years on the ballot.  So, Bagwell, who with 41.7% of the vote had the best performance of any player gaining eligibility in 2011, shouldn't despair.  However, that several righteous pundits took this opportunity to smear him with the scarlet S, despite the fact that he never showed up in A.) The Mitchell Report, B.) The BALCO Investigation, or C.) Conseco's sordid memoirs, is simply ugly.  I certainly don't believe that the sources listed above are utterly reliable (and U.S. law has thusfar agreed with me), but for Bagwell to have his candidacy jeopardized by merely circumstantial evidence (and that's a relatively kind description of Jeff Pearlman's justification) is the very heart of slander.  Shame.  Shame.  Shame.

Revelations which followed the BBWAA's announcement of the voting results compounded the absurdity.  Most glaring was one member's ballot which consisted of votes for Jack Morris, Edgar Martinez, Tino Martinez, Don Mattingly, and (I kid you not) B. J. Surhoff.  With the exception of Surhoff, I actually don't oppose the induction of any of these guys, but the fact that one can vote for up to ten players and this guy chose to leave off his ballot Tim Raines, Barry Larkin, Bagwell, Blyleven, and Alomar is obviously indefensible.  One can really only read this ballot as a satirical statement about the selection process itself.

There has been an abundance of commentary in the last few days, much of which is mere retread of disputes which have raged since Mark McGwire became the first presumed PED abuser to gain HOF eligibility.  The most interesting and original addition to this conversation comes from Rob Neyer, who, like his mentor, Bill James, actually cares a great deal about the Hall's existence, its standards, and the induction process.  I think he's probably wasting his energy, but I admire his resolve.  What Neyer observes is that the morality police contingent are actually endangering the tradition they have so pedantically sworn to uphold.  And, they are threatening the continued viability of the HOF as an economic institution.

Neyer points to the very real possibility, first off, that in the very near future there will be years in which way more than ten candidates who seriously deserve HOF consideration, may even be "sure things" in many voters minds, will be on the ballot all at once.  Such a glut of options could lead to many more instances of really good, even HOF worthy players falling off the ballot after gaining less than 5% of the vote.  It could also, as Neyer warns, result in years in which nobody gets 75% of the vote and therefore nobody comes to the midsummer induction ceremony which is actually what keeps Cooperstown economically viable.

Believe me, unless the people running the Hall of Fame are as "infantile, ahistorical, and asinine" as Neyer accuses many of the members of the BBWAA of being, he is not the only one worried by this potential.  The induction ceremonies bring tourist dollars to the institution and the surrounding community at a rate unequaled throughout the rest of the year.  However, the long-term sustainability of the Hall is also being jeopardized by the "morality police," even if we never end up with a year in which there are no inductions.  A contingent of indignant, short-sighted, and, frankly, bigoted baseball writers are blackballing a generation of baseball players and, therefore, a generation of baseball fans.  Think about it.  If you, like me, became a fan during the 1990s, what cause do you have to take your sons and daughters to an institution that minimizes (or, in some cases, even denies) the relevance of many of the most memorable players of your youth.

It isn't as though Barry Bonds, Alex Rodriguez, Roger Clemens, Manny Ramirez, et al are going to be forgotten by baseball history.  The Hall of Fame will stop being the custodian of that history long before that happens.  Which could be a great thing!  After all, Cooperstown is in the middle of nowhere, inaccessible even by major freeways, and, frankly, the selection process has been flawed from the start.  Maybe this is MLB's opportunity to start fresh with a serious baseball history museum in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh or Atlanta.

More likely, however, the BBWAA are writing their own death warrant.  They have been the middle man in this process all along.  What they are doing right now is kind of like SYSCO refusing to bring Coke products to McDonald's.  When the smoke clears, McDonald's isn't going to stop selling Coke products.  They're going to find another distributor.  And the BBWAA, by compounding stubbornness with ineptitude and increasing irrelevance on all fronts, isn't exactly urging MLB and the Hall of Fame to keep them in the loop.  If I'm a curator in Cooperstown, I'm enraged by the fact that somebody with power over my institution has suggested that B. J. Surhoff is more important to baseball history than Mark McGwire or Sammy Sosa.  I'm foreseeing the possibility of a Hall of Fame which does not include baseball's all-time hits leader, the all-time home run leaders, etc., etc.  And is also, thanks to the apparent political biases of the Veterans Committe, without Marvin Miller, Curt Flood, and several other icons who help to establish the relevance of baseball to American history at large.

Let's face it, we are on the verge of a situation which pits the BBWAA against MLB, the MLBPA, New York State, and the museum itself.  One of these things is not like the others.

Good riddance.

Indicators & Illusions: Matt Cain

Baseball Tonight is just one of several places where the ongoing and somewhat irrelevant antagonism between sabermetrics and scouting is being played out for public consumption.  The fact is, unless you work for a stubborn backwater organization like the Royals or the Astros, you know that the battle has already been won, defiantly, by the sabermetricians.  Successful franchises pay handsomely for a wide variety of statistical metrics, some of their own design, and frequently combine them with economic analysis in an effort to directly link player performance and profit.

Sabermetrics are so in fashion that the heroes of their rise to power, guys like Bill James and Rob Neyer, now find themselves in the unusual position of frequently reminding their neophyte followers that there is actually a human element to the game (an x-factor) that cannot ever be fully accounted for, but must be recognized.  You cannot purely play the numbers.

For instance, Neyer recently discussed the "closer by committee" situation in Minnesota.  The role of relievers has long be a subject of debate for sabermetricians, many of whom believe, with good cause, that your best reliever should not necessarily be reserved for the ninth, and that the best approach to the late innings to to play match-ups and not identify roles like closer, set-up man, LOOGY, long-man, etc.

However, while excellent in theory, the "closer by committee" hasn't really caught on because the few teams that have tried it haven't had much success.  James recently switched his stance on the issue largely due to the "x-factor," recognizing that having a defined role allowed relievers to prepare physically and psychologically for the moment they took the mound, a routine which was critical to having consistent success.

Whether the connection is accurate or not, sabermetric analysic continues to be linked to fantasy baseball.  There is, apparently, a geek quotient that makes them natural bedfellows.  Thus, the Luddites like to accuse sabermetricians of following fake baseball.  Again, however, as men like Trace Wood and Jason Gray have long argued, the numbers cannot exist in a vacuum and they work best when they are used to ratify observations made during actual games.  Anybody who follows political debates know that statistics can be used to mislead.  Though the intent isn't as devious, the same is true in arguments about baseball.  Here is but one example of conflicting statistical indicators this spring.

Matt Cain had a fantasic, some might say "breakout" season in 2009, winning fourteen games and posting at 2.89 ERA at 24-years-old.  The basic stats, combined with his age, would make him appear to be a pitcher who should be considered among the ten or fifteen best in baseball, with the potential to develop into a perennial Cy Young candidate.

However, experts consistently rank Cain outside the top twenty among starting pitchers, behind guys like Ricky Nolasco and Scott Baker, players who are older and have never had a season rivaling what Cain did in '09.  They justify their rankings by pointing to a rising home-run rate (from 0.79/9 to 0.91), a declining strikeout rate (from 7.69/9 to 7.07) and a uncharacteristically low BABIP (.268 compared to .278 for his career).

Anybody who watched Cain consistently in 2009 would be very surprised by (in fact, would probably disbelieve) these suggestion that he was somehow becoming less dominant instead of more dominant as he moved into his mid-twenties.  Counting myself among them, I entirely agree.

Cain slightly altered his pitching philosophy in 2009.  Although still capable of getting strikeouts when the situation demanded it, Cain was far more content to pitch to contact.  The effort, I expect, was prompted largely by his desire to pitch deeper into games and factor into more decisions.  In '07 and '08 Cain had been profoundly unlucky, posting a 15-30 record over the course of those two seasons, despite the fact that his ERA (3.71), WHIP (1.31), and strikeout rate were all significantly better than the league averages.

Cain had an obvious and much-publicized run support problem, but also worked himself very hard, making it difficult for him to pitch deep into games, as is expected of a true Ace.  In 2008, Cain completed seven innings in less than half of his starts and pitched into the eighth on only five occasions.    Compare that to his teammate and Cy Young winner Tim Lincecum, who finished the seventh 60% of the time and pitched into the eighth 30% of the time, and you can understand how Lincecum won eleven more games, despite be saddled with the same poor offense.

In 2009, Cain made eighteen starts that lasted seven innings or longer, including a league-leading four complete games (as many complete games, by the way, as he had in previous four seasons combined).  He pitched into the eighth inning 25% of the time.  We can see, statistically, what made this possible.  Cain's walk rate went from 3.76/9 to 3.02.  The percentage of groundballs he induced went from 33.2% to 38.9%.

Cain's commitment to keeping the ball in the strike zone naturally led to more contact and thus more long balls and less strikeouts, but it also made for a lot more easy innings.  Conveniently for our analysis, Cain threw exactly the same number of innings in '08 and '09 (217 2/3), but in '09 he did it with one less start and more importantly with almost 250 fewer pitches, facing 47 fewer hitters (which explains his career best WHIP).  That's essentially two games less wear and tear on his young arm.

It wouldn't surprise me terribly if Cain returned to a more normal BABIP (~.280-.285) in 2010 and thus saw a slight regression in ERA.  However, it also wouldn't surprise me if he intensified his commitment to the philosophy that served him so well in '09 and saw a further reduction in walks and an increase in innings and wins, cementing him as one of the National League's elite pitchers.

The Next Elvis Andrus?

In an interview with MLB Network last week, Moises Alou predicted that Cubs uber-prospect, Starlin Castro, would be in the big-league lineup sometime this season, perhaps even in April.  Alou couldn't speak highly enough of Castro, who he coached very briefly in the Dominican Winter League, before the Cubs insisted that he shut it down for a month or two.

Castro's star, already on the horizon, shot into the national baseball consciousness this November, when he hit .376 in the Arizona Fall League.  The shortstop, who isn't yet 20-years-old, has hit for a high average and shown decent plate discipline at every level thusfar, though he hasn't yet displayed any power.  Not including the AFL, he's got only 31 games above A-ball.  It seems unlikely that the Cubs, who consider themselves potential contenders in the NL Central, would be willing to hand him an everyday job right out of the gate in 2010, as the Rangers did for Andrus in 2009 (Andrus, though like Castro in many ways, had, at least, one full season at AA).

However, the fact that the Cubs didn't sign a second-baseman this winter and already appear to have a plan of succession in place makes it more believable that Castro's arrival might be less than a year away.  If Castro can really flash the leather, forcing Ryan Theriot to move back to second base, than Chicago will get better defensively at two critical positions and the offense may be, at least, a wash, as Mike Fontenot and Jeff Baker, the current second base platoon, really bombed in '09.

I'm all for giving Fontenot and Baker another chance, and thus giving Castro a little more minor-league seasoning, but if that platoon hasn't improved dramatically on their '09 performance by July, there will be nothing to stop Jim Hendry from turning the infield and the eight-hole in the lineup over to Starlin.

Jason Bay v. Cynicism

It has been reported that the Mets are on the verge of signing a long-term contract with Jason Bay, the left-fielder, most recently of the Red Sox, who is probably most famous as the guy who Manny Ramirez got traded for. New York has reportedly given Bay $66 Million over four years, with a vesting option which could add a fifth year at $14 Million.

So, while Bay will not become baseball's 20th Hundred Million Dollar Man (if recent reports are accurate, that title will fall to Matt Holliday), if the fifth year vests, his contract would be among the largest dozen or so ever given to an outfielder, just behind Torii Hunter (5 yr./$90 Mil.) and just ahead of J. D. Drew (5 yr./$70 Mil.).

Several commentators, including a fair number of Mets fans, have criticized the Bay signing. Rob Neyer calls Bay a "slow power hitter who can't really play the outfield." And while I'm usually prone to agree with Rob and I share his skepticism to some extent, I'm generally quite surprised by all the negativity. Jason Bay, it would appear to me, is the kind of guy who deserves to get paid. In six full seasons, he has never played less than 120 games. Four times he's topped 30 HR and 100 RBI. In only one season (2007) did his OPS dip below 895. He's soft-spoken and popular with his teammates. When he came over to Boston, in the middle of a highly-scrutinized pennant race, replacing one of the best players in the franchise's history, he really rose to the occasion, hitting .315 with 29 RBI in his first month with the team. What's not to like?

Well, there is the question of his "slowness." Early in his career Bay was a 20/20 man, who even played a little centerfield, but a knee surgery in 2006 has limited him somewhat. It shouldn't go unnoticed, however, that Bay is still a smart and effective baserunner. He stole ten bases in '08 without being caught and thirteen in '09 (only being caught three times), bringing his career stolen base rate to an admirable 82.5%. He may not be a burner, but this isn't exactly Paul Konerko either.

Bay's defense is also considered a liability, and there is more substantial proof to that effect. He's always had a noodle arm, but in recent years his overall outfield performance has really gone in the tank. In his first three years with the Pirates, his UZR stayed right around the league average, perfectly acceptable for a hitter of his quality, but from '07 to '09 he has posted Ultimate Zone Ratings of -11.5, -18.4, and -13.0. Pure faith in UZR would probably lead us to rank him as quite possibly the worst everyday left-fielders in all of baseball, and left field isn't exactly a position known for defense. Of course, for half of that time he was playing left field at Fenway, which is probably the single most abnormal positional space in the whole league, so I think we have to question the reliability of his recent defensive metrics. Is he a Gold-Glover? Absolutely not. Is he as bad as Adam Dunn or Raul Ibanez? I sincerely doubt it.

Buster Olney sagely points out that last year the Mets primary left-fielders were Gary Sheffield and Daniel Murphy, neither of whom will probably ever play the position again, so Jason Bay is a considerable upgrade. The Mets other outfielders, Carlos Betran and Jeff Francoeur, are both excellent defenders (especially Beltran), which should compensate slightly for whatever range Bay lacks.

In the same column, Olney carefully analyzes Bay's homers from '09 on Hit Tracker, responding to the other major criticism against Bay, that his power won't translate to spacious Citi Field. He concludes that Bay would've still hit 30 HR as a Met, rather than the 36 he hit as a Red Sock (sp?). I think the Mets would be perfectly happy with that total.

Last week I argued that the Mets best course of action this offseason was to "stand pat," rather than pursue expensive free agents like Bay and Joel Pineiro. I knew they wouldn't go that route, but I thought it made for a nice hypothetical. I still don't think they have the firepower to catch the Phillies, because even if they follow the Bay signing with the acquisition of Pineiro, Ben Sheets, or Erik Bedard, they won't have the rotational depth of a serious contender. In the end, regardless of the what the Mets do for the remainder of the offseason, they are going to need everything to go right in 2010 if they are even to have a shot at the Wild Card in a division which features the powerhouse Phillies and two other solid franchises, the Braves and the Marlins.

Whether or not New York gets the resurgence of power they expect from Bay and David Wright (who hit only 10 HR in '09) is dependent mainly on the health of Carlos Beltran (81 games in '09) and Jose Reyes (36 games in '09). If both are fully healthy, than the Mets lineup looks like something to be reckoned with. If not, than Bay and Wright will be consistently pitched around, just as Wright and Sheffield were in '09, and the run-scoring will slow to a trickle. Even more important is the health of Johan Santana, who missed the final six weeks of '09 with an elbow injury which required surgery. If the Mets have to enter next season without their horse, the season will be over before it begins.