Introducing Deep Dish

This week, a new correspondent joins us for a discussion of Kosoke Fukudome and the various merits of plate discipline.[1] But first, the Nachoman fills both of his readers in on the middle school doubleheader he just worked:

Um, I don’t even remember who won the first game. We played two 5-inning games, both of which were intense. I called a batter out for 3-foot running lane interference. I had to make a close call as to whether it was too dark to play; we got in all 5 innings of game 2, which was won by Prospect Heights Middle school on a walk-off single. Thank goodness, too, because the high school rule is the same as the silly college rule – if a game is suspended, the score reverts to the end of the last completed inning. (And, I think the game wouldn't have counted at all, 'cause a regulation is five innings. No clue whether that rule applies to a scheduled 5-inning game.) See below for more discussion of the possible consequences of such a dumb rule.

After 10 innings behind the plate, I just want pizza and bed. The Nachoman feels tremendous sympathy for minor league umpires, who do this EVERY DAY. And, they often can’t just go to bed afterward – they might have to drive many hours to get to their next city. Remember to pity the umpires next time a game goes extra innings, especially 22-inning marathons like that worked by plate umpire Alfonzo Marquez. At least he got to fly first-class that morning.


Careful what you wish for
Thursday night’s Rockies – Padres game went 22 innings, finishing at 1:20 A.M. PACIFIC time. Final score: Colorado 2, San Diego 1. During the Nationals-Mets game, which went 14 innings and 4:45, the Gnats announcers mentioned the Padres game. “Wow, Jake Peavy vs. Jeff Francis. They’re in the 5th inning already. That could be a two hour game!” they commented wistfully, as the night wore on.

But, my goodness. I understand that Cat ‘n’ Dog Park is not hitter friendly, but really, 13 innings without scoring a run? And 22 innings of scoring three runs total? One of the runs came on a bases-loaded walk; another came as a result of two errors. These pitching staffs are good, but *that* good?


How well do you play the night after a 22 inning game?
You’re the starting pitcher. You’re up 6-0 in the bottom of the 1st, and the other team’s starting pitcher is already out of the game. Your team played 22 innings last night before flying halfway across the country, arriving in town at 9:00 a.m. Your bullpen was brutalized last night. But YOU got to fly out a day early, and you fell asleep at a normal hour.

What do you do?

Why, walk the second batter of the game, get behind every other hitter, show absolutely no control. You give up a bunch of hard-hit balls after falling behind hitters and coming in with hard but poorly located fastballs. You go 3-1 on the RELIEF PITCHER with two outs, having already given up four runs in the 1st inning.

You throw 100 pitches over the first four innings. You finally pitch a 1-2-3 inning in the 4th… but you went 3-2 on EVERY SINGLE HITTER that inning.

Franklin Morales of the Rockies, you earn a Stinky Cheese award from the Nachoman. YOU are the worst pitcher in the majors right now.


Au Contraire, says the Rockies fan
Says Daniel Holst, Colorado resident and physics student in the Nachoman’s class, about Mr. Morales:
“Perhaps you should give the poor kid a break. Although he is sometimes a bonehead on the mound (not throwing strikes, getting down in the count, etc.), he is in his first full season as a MLB pitcher and is only 22. Before giving him such a title, try watching a little more than his third/fourth start of the season. His stuff can be electric, though not as good as Ubaldo Jimenez's stuff.

In short, be careful what you say about young Morales. I'd hate for you to be eating your words in a couple years...”

Could be, Mr. Holst, could be. He might turn out great eventually, if he either has a frontal lobotomy or if he listens to his pitching coach.

You see, if Mr. Morales were throwing his good stuff for strikes, even if he were to get knocked around, I'd say fine. But, consider:

* He came into this start having already thrown a couple of games where he walked a bunch of hitters and got behind batters.
* He got to leave San Diego early, thus missing the 6.3 hour game.
* The entire bullpen pitched last night.
* He was staked to a 6-run lead in the first inning.
* He went to 3-ball counts on 10 of his 24 batters.
* He only threw first-pitch strikes to 9 of 24 batters.
* He threw 113 pitches in only 5 INNINGS!!! Only 63 of these pitches were strikes.
* He faced 9 batters in the first inning with that 6 run lead. That inning:
* cheap single
* walk (4 pitches)
* double on a 3-1 count
* ground out to score a run
* fly out
* double
* walk (5 pitches)
* single
* strikeout, after going 2-0 and 3-1 on the pitcher.
* Mr. Morales’ first inning overall: 4 runs, 4 hits, 2 walks, 44 pitches, letting the Astros back in the game after they had taken a first-inning beat-down.

Mr. Morales didn't get any better until the fifth. He was painful, painful to watch. He never hit his catcher's glove. He reared back and threw wildly, and got hit hard.

There are plenty of pitchers, both young and old, who can pitch smarter, better, and more effectively. Maybe this guy will be good someday. But Daniel, I can't see making your team suffer while he pitches stupidly. Send him to AAA until he shows he can throw strikes. Call up someone with less "potential", who doesn't light up the radar gun, but who throws strikes and uses what stuff he has.


Oops, they blew it again
The Padres bullpen has been lights-out this season… meaning, when they enter the game, might as well turn the lights out and go home, ‘cause they’re gonna blow it. On Tuesday night it was Heath Bell and Joe Thatcher giving up the game: Jake Peavy had an atypically rough outing, allowing four runs in six innings. The Pads offense responded, scoring seven runs. Too bad that Mr. Thatcher gave up three runs in his 2/3 of an inning. And, after the Padres heroically tied the game with a 4-spot in the top of the eighth, too bad that Mr. Bell’s inning included two walks, six hits, and four runs.

Oh, you say, but the Padres have four saves, which is just about the league average. They’re not that bad.

Um, saves are the least useful statistic since average velocity for a room’s air molecules.[2] The Padres starters rank 6th in ERA; their relievers rank 28th. The bullpen has eight of the Padres twelve losses on its record. I could go into more statistical detail, but you get the picture… this team needs better relief pitching.


Deep Dish on Fukudome
I am pleased to appoint Dr. Matt Boesen, Woodberry history professor, as assistant Nachoman for Chicago Cubs affairs. He shall heretofore be known as Deep Dish, a theme name chosen by Dr. Boesen himself.

Deep Dish sent the Nachoman the following commentary on the Cubs right fielder, which I quote nearly verbatim:

“Bottom of the eighth Tuesday -- two on, no out. Kosoku Fukudome runs up a 2-2 count and then fouls off five straight pitches -- before he hits a single to load the bases. I'm writing this to you because, well, he's doing this sort of thing ALL THE TIME. He seems to have 1-2 at-bats every game that go to 8-10 pitches, and more often than not it seems that he finishes off a long string of fouls with a hit. Fukodome leads the majors with 4.65 pitches per plate appearance. I'm still not quite sure exactly what "plate discipline" is, but it's clear that this guy has it.

Thanks for reading this far. Thought that you may be the only person around who could muster up the same kind of excitement about this sort of thing.”

Are you kidding, Deep Dish? I write 3500 words of this sort of stuff EVERY WEEK. :-)

Yeah, I could not be more impressed with Fukudome. I noticed Mr. Fukudome’s ability to make frustrating contact when I watched the entire Reds-Cubs series last week. Plate discipline is indeed a nebulous concept, but a fan knows it when he sees it -- e.g., Mr. Fukudome has it, Adam Dunn emphatically does NOT. I'd probably get the folks at Fire Joe Morgan extra-angry at me, but I want to explore this concept.

One could make the argument that hitters like Mr. Fukudome make a lot of contact, but they’d be more valuable if they struck out a few times but hit a lot more doubles and home runs. His OPS (on-base plus slugging) is .957, which is outstanding, good for 23rd in the majors; but some might point out that nearly half of that .957 is the on-base part, not the slugging part. I would argue that Mr. Fukudome is doing an awesome job with the first priority of a hitter – DO NOT MAKE AN OUT.

Mr. Fukudome’s plate discipline might be a product of Japanese training, but I doubt that he couldn’t hit for more power if he wanted to. I THINK that he just has enough game sense not to be swinging for the fences in every at-bat. I THINK that power-obsessed Americans who came up though the youth system have far less of a sense of the game than someone like Mr. Fukudome. Kosoke has a sense of when to swing hard, when just to get a base hit, a sense of the value of a solid single over the home run. Mike Maddux (Greg's brother) referred recently to "Academy Kids," young Brewers pitchers who have been trained to throw hard, to follow their coach's instruction, but whose sense of the game is utterly lacking. I'd say the same thing about, say, Reds hitters. But I wouldn’t say that about KF.

Dr. Dish responds once again:

“So, then, is the conclusion here that "plate discipline" simply can't be taught (at an "academy" or anywhere else)? -- is it temperament or just raw, god-given talent? Ichiro obviously "has it" -- could it be a by-product of growing up in Japanese culture, or is there something in the way the game is played in Japan that may illuminate the issue?”

I'm not sure, because the Japanese connection is antithetical to the Fundamental Theorem of Nachodom, which says that baseball is learned best by playing intense but unsupervised playground-style games against good competition between the ages of 10 and 15. I know Japanese youngsters are taught in a more regimented way than even American players. (Of course, there are what, 10 Japanese major leaguers, as opposed to 100 Latin players who learned the game the Nachoman way?) First of all, we're seeing only the best Japanese players. Secondly, the game is taught differently there, emphasizing the value of the single over the homer. I suspect that Japanese baseball might be improved by convincing the light-hitting high-average guys to develop more power via weightlifting and occasional hard swings.

I’d also like to continue this discussion in a future column. Anyone have any insights into whether the success of Mr. Fukudome (and Ichiro Suzuki, for that matter) has to do with Japanese upbringing, or with their own natural baseball instincts?


Yes, Duke was unsporsmanlike, classless, and evil… but it’s the NCAA’s fault.[3]
Rabid Duke-hater El Molé couldn’t contain his excitement when he brought the Nachoman the news of a Clemson-Duke baseball game that ended in a 6-6 tie. In the top of the 11th, Clemson took the lead with a 2-run homer. As the batter-runner crossed the plate with Clemson’s eighth run, a “Duke official” – I still can’t figure out exactly who from the accounts I’ve read – informed the umpire that lightning had been spotted in the area, and that the game must be suspended for a minimum of 30 minutes by rule.

After this, accounts differ. It’s not clear exactly who, if anyone, spotted lightning. Several sources indicate that the lightning warning came from a weather center in Wichita, which did not have the ability to determine how close to the ballpark the lightning hit. Clemson radio man Dan Scott did not see any lightning whatsoever, until the skies opened up and rain poured forth from the heavens – 32 minutes after play was stopped. However, the goduke.com report claimed otherwise.

Duke made no efforts to cover the field with the tarp. They had sent the grounds crew home earlier (?), and their coach hid behind safety rules – he claimed that during a lightning delay, he was not allowed to send players out of the dugout. So of course, the field was rendered unplayable by the storm.

My first thought was, who cares? By the rulebook – at least, by the rulebook I learned at Umpire School – if the game is called in these circumstances, it becomes suspended, and must be resumed later from the point of suspension. Okay, it’s pretty danged obvious that Duke was trying to weasel out of playing for the afternoon, but they still have to come back some other day from a 2-run deficit. Right?

Wrong. The NCAA rules for some silly reason state that if a game is called during an inning, the score reverts to the previously completed inning. Thus, Duke’s intransigence wiped Clemson’s 2-run dinger off the board. The final score was considered 6-6, and Duke has a much better chance of making the ACC baseball tournament.

Duke’s sports information office has defended their baseball coach’s actions, citing safety as the excuse for their malaise. If I were ACC commissioner or American Sports Czar, the Duke baseball coach would be banished to the nether reaches of heck, and the baseball program would be put on four years of probation for their shenanigans. They committed sacrilege against the game of baseball, and for that they should be held accountable.

HOWEVER… the NCAA is complicit here! Think about why the suspended game rule is written as it is in professional baseball. Rulebook writers foresaw the possibility of the manipulation of weather delays to a team’s advantage. Therefore, after five innings any game that is called during an inning in which the lead has changed is automatically suspended, to be picked up later. Even before five innings, if a game is called due to any device failure under the control of the home team (i.e. lights, sprinklers, etc.), the game must be resumed from the point of suspension. There is very little room to take advantage of the professional rule.

So, I ask… why is it that in high school and college ball, the score can revert to that of a previous completed inning? Doesn’t the NCAA *invite* dishonest programs to cheat, as it appears to me that Duke did?


Correlation does not imply causality
The 2000 book The Baseball Astrologer and other weird tales credulously examines baseball superstitions, coincidences, and “freakish occurences.” (If you buy the book from amazon.com, it comes with a free copy of Us Weekly!) As the title implies, one issue investigated is how a player’s astrological sign impacts his playing ability. Now, the Nachoman’s readers are (hopefully) familiar with the vast body of anti-evidence showing astrology to be, at best, bunk.[4] So, of course you expect the Nachoman to pitilessly and sarcastically deconstruct the book’s conclusions. Right?

Well, slate.com’s Greg Spira presents evidence that some of the conclusions of The Baseball Astrologer actually stand up to statistical scrutiny. Specifically, players born under Virgo, and a few late Leos, are significantly more likely to become major league ballplayers than others, especially moreso than early Leos or Cancers. Do the stars really affect baseball players’ fates? Should Jeane Dixon become the next commissioner of baseball?[5]

While the conclusions are correct, the fundamental causality proposed is, obviously, ridiculous. The key dates are not the August 23-24 Leo-Virgo boundary, but rather the July 31-August 1 youth baseball cutoff date. Until recently, most youth baseball leagues adhered to an August 1 birthday cutoff – to play in an under-12 league, you must be under 12 years old on the cutoff date. Thus, players born in August are 11 years and 11 months old, and are playing with players who are 1-2 years younger than they. Then, when these players graduate to the under-14 league, they are still on the high end of the age range.

A pubescent boy may grow substantially in a few months. The 12 year, 1 month boy is not likely to earn playing time over the 13 year, 11 month boy – the sheer size, strength, and speed difference is virtually guaranteed to give the older boy an insurmountable advantage, especially with a volunteer youth coach who is likely size, strength, and speed obsessed. But what if that July-born boy has more natural ability? How many such boys give up on baseball for lack of playing time, and find success in football or basketball? How many of these kids could have developed into excellent players had they been given an extra 11 months for their bodies to grow into their skills? We’ll never know…

I’m not proposing any radical action to help the poor, downtrodden Cancers. Mr. Spira notes that USA baseball has now pretty much uniformly changed this cutoff date to April 30 all over the country, making Aries replace Cancer as the oppressed sign. He does tantalizingly note that one easy solution would be for local groups to set their own cutoff dates, allowing players to “shop around” for advantageous leagues that meet their skill set rather than their age. With that not likely to happen, we can expect that, a decade or two from now, May will replace August as the most common birth month for major leaguers.


Mathematical reference of the week:
Firejoemorgan.com, a sort of sarcastic sports media watchdog site, noted that on numerous occasions recently, sportswriters have seemed to write articles in full consciousness of the potential for criticism from FJM and other, similar blogs. In fact, FJM suspects that some authors may be going out of their way to bait critics such as they, either as a publicity-seeking mechanism, or just for the sheer thrill of engaging in a battle of words with their intellectual superiors.

In any case, FJM notes that such articles might be called “sports journalism criticism criticism. This is one of those f(f(f(x))) deals that make [FJM author] Junior giddy.”


Biggest busts that GMs should have known would be busts
For Reds fans, there’s Corey Patterson and Josh Fogg… but I don’t count them in this category. Sure, anyone who does statistical analysis can show that Mr. Patterson has been practically useless over the latter stages of his career. His VORP – Value Over Replacement Player – has routinely been negative. That means he did not outperform a free agent off the streets, or a good AAA player. Sure enough, after a four-homer week, Mr. Patterson has batted around .100 and been replaced by a good AAA player as the Reds starting center fielder.

As for Mr. Fogg… Historically, he’s dared hitters to make contact, relying on a big ballpark and good defenders to win about half the games he started. His career ERA of 4.99 is pretty poor, but his strength has been to eat innings for his team while keeping them in the game sometimes. In Pittsburgh he benefited from the spectacular infield defense of Jose Castillo and Jack Wilson, the best double play combo since Ozzie Smith and the Busch Stadium peanut vendor. In Colorado his defense played well, plus spacious Coors Field turned a large number of potential home runs into long outs hit to speedy outfielders. Now, though, Mr. Fogg’s home field is the Great American Ballpark, a true pitcher’s Heck where pop flies turn into home runs. And, Mr. Fogg’s defense includes Edwin Encarnacion and Adam Dunn, the Nachoman’s early season nominees for the Coprolite Glove award.

These two gentlemen came to the Reds as stopgaps. Mr. Patterson was signed as a non-roster invitee; Mr. Fogg turned down a lucrative contract with Colorado, and ended up signing with the Reds for less. Neither man was projected as the savior of a poor franchise.[6] Thus, neither man qualifies as a “bust.”

I consider a true “bust” someone signed, promoted, or traded with great fanfare and monetary commitment, who subsequently performs as if he’s a minor leaguer. Presumably, major league GMs are aware of previous performance, and that past performance – all of it – is the best predictor of future results. When a GM “makes a splash” by signing a historically poor player, or a player with exactly one good season behind him, or a famous player on the downside of his career, that GM usually gets in trouble. These are busts that could have, should have been predicted. Two examples:


Matt Morris
He had three good years (1997, 2001, and 2002), and one not-bad year (2003). Since then, all the way through the first 21 games of 2007, his ERA has been well over 4.00. Why, oh why, would the moribund Pirates trade prospects for a bad pitcher in the twilight of his career? The team said, with some logic, that they wanted a veteran to lead their young pitchers. Okay, I can’t argue that Mr. Morris’s veteran presence would be worth it if he were hired instead of, say, a 20 year old with a 9.00 ERA who can’t throw strikes. But, a 20 year old with similar numbers to Mr. Morris is likely to improve with experience; a 33 year old with Mr. Morris’s numbers is likely to continue his slide. Furthermore, look at the economics of the situation. Just how much money is a “veteran presence” and a crappy ERA worth? Apparently, about $10 million. Think of how many Dominican pitchers could have been hired for that sum. And most would have been just as good as, or better than, Mr. Morris.


Eric Gagne
Milwaukee signed him despite his disastrous end-of-season gig with Boston, despite his HGH history.[7] The most likely explanation for Mr. Gagne’s recent decline is that he might be off of the juice.

As an aside, is a closer EVER worth this kind of money? I think of closers like I do running backs in football. Sure, there are good, even great, closers. But chances are, you can find one nearly as good within your organization who’s just dying for the opportunity. Check out sometime how some of the great closers got started. There aren’t many who were anointed from day 1, not even the Great Mariano (who was an unknown setup guy in 1996).


Barry Zito
Okay, I can forgive San Francisco’s management for this one. If you’re going to pay for anything, pay for proven starting pitching. Mr. Zito had three dominant years, 2001-03. He had a bad 2004 (when he still pitched more than 200 innings, and had a better ERA than Matt Morris of recent vintage), and decent 05 and 06 campaigns. I don’t know if I agree with the richest contract for a pitcher in baseball history, but certainly Mr. Zito had demonstrated his worth.

Too bad he hasn’t lived up to the hype. Mr. Zito’s 2007 season was poor by any measure; this year he has a 5.61 ERA, and has walked more than he’s struck out. Sorry, Giants fans, you’ve got seven more years in purgatory for your support of The Sourpuss.


Shut *UP*, Hank.
Apparently Hank Steinbrenner told the press, either instead of or in addition to manager Joe Girardi, how he wants his pitchers to be used.

Just once I’d like to see a major sports website or television entity simply ignore Mr. Steinbrenner. I will add to my list of people who should NEVER be quoted in sports journalism.


Next week, hopefully…
The Nachoman reacts to Hank Steinbrenner’s criticism of the Nachoman’s criticism, driving this site’s traffic into the stratosphere. Wouldn’t that be awesome…


NM



[1] If such a thing even exists.
[2] Since, on average, as many molecules are moving north as south, up as down, etc., the average velocity of the molecules is zero. The useful measure is called RMS speed, which gives a statistically meaningful idea of how fast a typical molecule moves. The answer, in a room-temperature room: a thousand or so miles per hour.
[3] It usually is.
[4] And at worst, a way to make money by exploiting the gullible masses. But buy this book!
[5] Sure. She’d be an improvement on Selig.
[6] Compare that with the fanfare over Eric Milton a few years ago, who had lifetime stats similar to those of Mr. Fogg, but who nevertheless got top dollar and top billing from the chumps in the Reds front office.
[7] Mr. Gagne was named in the Mitchell report, which was released a few days after Milwaukee signed him. Either Milwaukee knew about Gagne’s use of human growth hormone and didn’t care, or they were deliberately deaf, blind and dumb. Either way, the Brewers are paying the price ($10 million) right now.

Sports Cathedrals, Umpire Stories, and What’s Up in Heck

The Nachoman is angry tonight…

I am working the Nationals-Mets game for STATS. Nats pitcher John Lannan looked very good, pitching 6 innings and only giving up a single run. Problem is, the rest of the Gnats seem to stink.

In the first inning, Wily Mo Pena dropped a fly ball in right field, which was scored as an RBI double. Had he made that play, Mr. Lannan would not have even given up one run. Then in the eighth, with the Gnats leading 2-1, second baseman Ronnie Belliard couldn’t pick up an easy-peasy grounder. So, Manny Acta brought in reliever Luis Ayala, who walked the only batter he faced, putting the tying run on 2nd base. Sure enough, after another pitching change, Carlos Delgado singled in the tying run.

Why is the Nachoman mad, then? It’s not like I’m a Nationals fan. But, the game went into extra innings, the bane of my statistical existence. Rather than ending the game at 9:30, polishing off the column, downing a couple late night Nathan’s Hot Dogs and going to bed, I’m still watching the butt end of the teams’ bullpens go at each other at a rate of one pitch per 55 seconds or so.

So while I writhe in 14th inning agony, I present you with some items about baseball, and other stuff…


Know your cathedrals quiz
Sports stadia are the modern equivalent of medieval cathedrals – elaborate, publicly financed gathering places for public worship. While the Nachoman will admit to no aesthetic sense when it comes to art or dance, I appreciate the beauty of a football or baseball stadium.

But, can the Nachoman, a purported expert on sports cathedrals, even identify the very structures that inspire his spirituality? I tried this stadium quiz. It shows a picture of a stadium, and four choices of its identity. See if you can beat the Nachoman’s 9/10… and look to the end of the column to see which one I missed.


Nacho Bites from the standings
MLB.com has a great standings page, which allows the reader to select which columns are displayed. So, I can turn off the home-road splits, and instead look at teams’ records in 1-run games. I played with this page for a while on Thursday. Here’s what I noticed:

· The best record in baseball so far: The Cardinals and Diamondbacks, both at 11-4. Who would’ve thunk? I picked the Cards to be the least improved team, and many pundits pointed to the Diamondbacks of 2007 winning a lot of 1-run games as evidence that they would decline this year. It’s still early, but so far these pundits – and the Nachoman – look like idiots.[1]

· The hottest teams in baseball: The Cubbies and the Diamondbacks, both of whom are 8-2 over the last 10 games.

· The White Sox have faced more lefthanded starters than righthanded starters! They have a slightly winning record against both orientations.

· The Marlins lead the NL east, sporting a 4-0 record in 1-run games. They have outperformed their Pythagorean prediction[2] by 3 games. The Braves are in fourth place, sporting an 0-7 record in 1-run games. They have underperformed their Pythagorean prediction by 3 games. Moral: neither team has shown itself to be particularly awesome so far this year. (Thanks to the Atlanta Cracker for pointing this out in the science lounge today.)

· Speaking of runs scored: the Diamondbacks have outscored the second-highest-scoring team by 15%. AND they have Brandon Webb. These facts should frighten the National League.

· San Francisco is closest to being mathematically eliminated from the division title race. Their “magic number” is 142, meaning any combination of 142 wins by the D-backs and losses by the Giants spells doom for the season. That may seem like a lot, but please check back in June.


Snow flurries forecast in heck
Let’s look at the ERA leaders after three or four starts. #1: Kansas City Royal Zach Greinke, 0.75. #3: Royal Brian Bannister, 0.86. Who are these guys?

Well, the Kansas City Royals entered the American League as a 1969 expansion franchise. They were named in honor of the American Royal Livestock Show, a noted annual Kansas City event. Numerous decades ago, when John Scheurholz held the reins as GM, the Royals were a strong team. They won the 1985 World Series over the Cardinals, with considerable help from a blown call at first base in game 6. Unless you watched a lot of baseball in 1985, though, you may not ever have heard of these Royals, except as a sort of baseball heck for players either too young or too bad to play elsewhere.

While 9-6 on April 17 does not necessarily foreshadow a playoff game coming to Kauffman Stadium, the Royals’ success is surprising enough to merit attention. If Mssrs. Greinke and Bannister continue to pitch well, Kansas City fans might not be able to stop drooling – first an NCAA championship for the Kansas Jayhawks,[3] then success from what for all my students’ lives has been a pond-scum franchise? What next, will the Chiefs win a playoff game?[4]


A television producer who will be sent to heck
The Nationals, who have a solid announcing team in the booth, nevertheless spent much of the third inning showing a buxom sideline reporter interviewing pitcher John Lannan’s father. Boux.

I just wish that John’s dad had mimicked John’s pregame interview, during which he gave one sentence answers to Don Sutton’s probing questions.

Reporter: “How exciting is it for you to see your son’s debut in Shea Stadium?”
Mr. Lannan: “Very.”
Reporter: “Did you ever expect that John would be pitching here someday?”
Mr. Lannan: “No.”

Even the elder Mr. Lannan seemed to know that this interview was a dumb idea. The sideline reporter asked what was in Mr. Lannan’s notebook – he was keeping score to the game, as he does for each of his son’s games. Mr. Lannan kept looking over the interviewer’s head, trying to see the game. Finally, mercifully, the woman shut up, saying “I’ll let you get back to the game.”


Van Winkle, Van Winkle, Baby.
Denver Nuggets and Cincinnati Bengals aren’t the only celebrities clogging the nation’s jails. “Robert Van Winkle, aka Vanilla Ice, was arrested and booked into the Palm Beach County Jail on Thursday” for domestic battery.

I mean, really… “Vanilla Ice” was bad enough, but “Robert Van Winkle?”


High school game of the week
Wednesday night, Fluvanna County (VA) 8, Madison County 7. I actually can’t give too much of a summary, because I observed this game as the plate umpire – it was my first full game action. It was weird for this longtime baseball fan to follow a game from this perspective. You see, at umpire school, we never worked more than half an inning at a time, and sometimes not even that. We would be thrown into situations: “Okay, runners on 1st and 3rd, one out. Go.” At the time, I mused with other students about how much easier an actual game would be, where play develops naturally.

After Wednesday’s experience, I understand the method to the Wendelstedt school’s madness. I could not tell you, even after having been intimately involved in the game, exactly how the runs scored. I remember most of the individual plays, but not in which inning they occurred, or even which team was at bat at the time. Before each batter stepped into the box, I told myself the situation. All previous events in the inning were irrelevant, and thus forgotten in order to focus on the here and now. And, I was well-prepared to approach the game in this manner.

I felt like I worked a solid game behind the plate. I am comfortable with all of my ball-strike calls except two – I got fooled by a good curve ball that I called inside, but which on reflection I realize nailed the inside corner; and I called a ball outside that probably should have been a strike. What’s interesting, and simultaneously comforting and worrying, was the reaction of my partner to my game. He agreed that I did well, and that I probably missed only a few pitches. He approved of my strike zone, which he called “tight.” AARRGH! I always thought I had a loose zone. I wanted to call as many strikes as possible, to keep the game moving, and to keep the batters swinging. I know I missed those two, but I thought I called both low and high strikes, and I thought I was careful to call strikes on pitches even if they barely nipped the black of the plate on the way by. But I was “tight?” That’s the worst curse that the Nachoman can place upon an umpire! What happened?

What Mel, my partner, explained was that he liked my zone because it was straightforward and predictable. He claims that many local umpires take the mandate to “call as many strikes as possible” too far, giving pitchers six to eight inches off the plate. The pitchers become used to this enormous target, and then consider any nearly-rulebook zone to be “tight.” Okay, I guess I can live with that. I want to be a pitcher’s umpire, but I don’t want to reward bad pitching. I do know that, even though I called the vast majority of my pitches correctly, I got “tunnel vision” too frequently. (“Tunnel vision” occurs when an umpire sees a ball most of the way to the plate, but then fails to follow the last few feet of the ball’s path into the catcher’s mitt.) I’ll work on that.

Aside from the balls and strikes, I had only a few other calls, mainly straightforward fair-foul decisions. One play at the plate was bang-bang, when I called a Madison runner out on a relay from the first baseman. I was in correct position, saw the tag on the runner’s shoulder before he touched the plate, and so I made the call. Of course, the Fluvanna fans cheered, the Madison fans jeered. The Madison coach was not pleased. He politely but very firmly objected, contending that the runner got his hand on the plate before the tag was applied. (Some Madison fans shouted that he missed the tag, a clearly ridiculous statement.) But this is what a partner is for. Half an inning later, Mel strolled over and told me that he was sure I had it right all the way. Boy, did that make me feel better. I mean, I was pretty darn sure I got it, and I didn’t back down under the coach’s questioning. I didn’t NEED Mel to give me that moral support. But, he sure calmed me down. I think it would have been nice to hear from him even if I had blown the call… just hearing an unbiased, definitive opinion about my decision let me put the matter to rest.


One more amateur umpire update
Those readers who devoured the Nachoman’s running diary from Umpire School might remember Dan, the Toronto native who is an arctic aviation expert, proficient in Inuit-style hunting and outdoor skills,[5] and a successful freelance writer.

Well, Dan writes in that he went to a clinic to get his Ontario Umpire Certification. There, he taught the clinicians the correct interpretations of many rules. Based on his strong performance at the clinic, he was asked to work a showcase doubleheader at Skydome where the best high school players perform for major league scouts.

Says Dan: “During the plate meeting I took my place on the 1st base side and heard nothing that was said as I looked around at my child-hood team's baseball field from the dirt circle. I then trotted out to my position as the team took the field.” He reports that he adjusted quickly to the three-man system, despite the fact that he had never practiced three-man mechanics before.

Dan earned a number of “boo”s when he called two baserunners out on pickoffs; he went into the outfield to call a number of “trouble” balls. Behind the plate for the second game, he settled in well, despite the pitchers’ 90 mph heat and nasty curve balls. He’s looking forward to his regular season schedule, when he will work 6-8 games a week. Now that’s a good way for a freelance writer to occupy his spare time.


Would anyone under the age of 30 get it?
Carrie Muskat, mlb.com beat writer for the Cubs, has been deluged with mail since suggesting that newly appointed closer Kerry Wood should have his own theme song. In fact, the mail was so voluminous that Ms. Muskat told her readers to knock it off in this week’s Cubs Mailbag. She summarized the reader choices for Mr. Wood’s theme, including “Enter Sandman” (claimed by no less than two other major league closers – come on, Cubs fans, let’s have some originality here!) and the “Super Bowl Shuffle.”

The best choice from the fans came from two separate proposals that the Woody Woodpecker theme play as Mr. Wood enters each game.

Okay, that’s clever and all. I actually don’t object to closers jogging in from the bullpen while personal anthems play over the PA system. I suspect this phenomenon began when Charlie Sheen entered to “Wild Thing” in that great baseball movie from the late 1980s, Major League. If such shenanigans get the crowd riled up, get the closer’s blood boiling, well, far be it for a crusty fart like me to complain.

I do object, though, to the process involved here. “Let’s make Kerry a theme song!” says a beat writer. The fans rush madly to the polls; presumably, the Cubs promotional department holds focus groups and ideating sessions next. Eventually, a song is chosen by the fiat of a committee.

That’s not right. Nicknames, theme songs, and other baseball rituals should grow organically. Had the organist spontaneously played the Woody Woodpecker theme song one night when Kerry Wood entered the game, and had Mr. Wood earned a tough save on that night, well, the organist may well try the same thing the next night. Or Mr. Wood himself might ask to hear the same entrance music that “made” him so successful the day before. That’s how superstitions work, folks. They are not the product of corporate groupthink.


Two Cincinnati what-ifs
During Reds-Cubs Tuesday night, Thom Brennaman related a story about Lou Pinella’s departure from Cincinnati that I had not known before. Apparently, back in the early 1990s, Marge Schott had instructed her general manager to begin working on a contract extension for Sweet Lou. Except, Mr. Pinella thought that he should have been offered said extension much more quickly than he was. At some point, while the contract was actually in the works, Mr. Pinella gave up, packed his office, and shortly thereafter was managing the Mariners.

What if the evil Ms. Schott had satisfied the fiery Italian’s ego, and moved more quickly to re-sign him? Mr. Pinella spent most of the 1990s turning around the moribund Seattle franchise, turning them from pajama-clad jokes into Ken Griffey-led regular season monsters whose only major fault was failure in playoff series. Could Mr. Pinella have helped the Reds win more than one division title since 1990? Could he have prevented the 2000s nosedive of this once-proud franchise? One never knows. But, he sure as heck would have done a better job than Ray Knight, Jerry Narron, Dave Miley, and Pete MacKanin. Okay, granted, much of the trouble resulted from a demonic owner, an incompetent GM, and pitchers who couldn’t find the strike zone with a 60’6” pole. But it’s fun to wonder what, if anything, Lou could have done.

This story becomes act II to the more famous Cincinnati sports coaching what-if… In the mid-1970s, Bill Walsh, the developer of the West Coast Offense, coached under Paul Brown for the Bengals. When Brown retired from coaching, he did not choose Mr. Walsh as his successor. So, Mr. Walsh left for the West Coast. He helped develop Joe Montana and the San Francisco 49ers offense of the 1980s, winning four Super Bowls of his own (two in victories over the Bengals), and leaving the reins to George Seifert for a fifth.

What might have happened had Mr. Walsh remained in Cincinnati? Would Kenny Anderson, all-world quarterback and former baseball coach of the Nachoman, have been able to win a few Super Bowls? Would the Bengals, not the 49ers, been the team of the 80s? Would Mr. Walsh have been able to convince Mike Brown that he (Mr. Brown) knew nothing about football talent evaluation?


Surprise pitcher of the year – so far
The Nachoman had the fortune – or, more often, MISfortune – of following pitcher Ryan Dempster while he was with the Florida Marlins. I was going to ten Marlins games a year or so back in the late 1990s, and it seemed like Mr. Dempster pitched in half of them. I got used to seeing him walk five per game, and going to a 3-1 count on the rest of the batters he faced. After I moved from Florida, I returned to my roots, and tried to root for a terrible Reds team which (not coincidentally) had picked up Mr. Dempster. He seemed to get worse every time I saw him: nibble, nibble, nibble, couldn’t find the strike zone with a 60’6” pole, even though his 95 mph moving fastballs would blow away any hitter who bothered to swing.

Well, in his first two starts for the Cubs this year he looked nothing like the Ryan Dempster I knew. He walked two batters in each game, and gave up only one run.

Beware the small sample size, though. In Tuesday’s start against the slumping Reds, he walked five in six innings, and gave up four runs. If the Reds had any hitting ability, they would have scored many more. Now, I’ll give Mr. Dempster a bit of a break, since the wind was blowing out at Wrigley for this game. And, of course, because he won the game. A pitching coach might say that ESPECIALLY on a power-friendly night like Tuesday, it’s crazy to put people on via the walk – way too many of those walks are likely to come home via the home run.


A note for the NachoGrandpa
NachoGrandpa has always loved to see athletes who have serious academic credentials – masters degrees, serious college majors as opposed to “leisure studies,” and folks with diplomas from elite schools.

The Nachoman’s favorite pitcher outside Roy Oswalt has to be World Series starter Jeff Francis, who was a physics major in British Columbia before he started his professional baseball career. Perhaps I have found the NachoGrandpa’s new favorite pitcher: Nelson Figueroa, Mets starting pitcher, is from Brandeis.


Umpire of the week
I’ve always been a fan of Laz Diaz, whose commanding presence[6] and large strike zone keep a game moving and under control. He made an excellent call Thursday that initially baffled the Nationals announcers. With stolen base threat Jose Reyes on first base and one out, Ryan Church foul tipped a ball into the catcher’s mitt. On his backswing, Mr. Church hit the catcher’s glove, preventing him from throwing to second base. Mr. Diaz immediately called time, and sent Mr. Reyes back to first base. The ruling: backswing interference. No penalty, other than sending the baserunner back to first base. Mets manager Willie Randolph came out briefly so that Mr. Diaz could explain the ruling. Viewers saw Mr. Randolph mouth “backswing,” nod his head, and return to the dugout.


Update about last week’s Memphis-Kansas voting
Last week, the Nachoman discussed the state-by-state election returns voting who would win the NCAA basketball title. I said, "Worldwide[7], Memphis led 59%-41%. Only four of Kansas’s border states and the Dakotas believed in the Jayhawks. Oh, and, for some reason, Alaska."

The Ribbie Reporter, expert on all things Kansas, responds: “Ah, that reason is simple. Unlike Alaskans Carlos Boozer and Trajan Langdon, who both went to Duke, Super Mario (he of the Sports Illustrated cover and KU legend) left the frozen north and came to Lawrence to play ball.”


Which Stadium did the Nachoman miss?
I got some of the toughies: For question 8, the quiz showed only a façade that said “Memorial Stadium,” and asked just which Memorial Stadium, exactly, this was a picture of. I correctly selected that this was Nebraska’s memorial stadium, though I’ll admit that spending one week each year for eight years residing within a few hundred yards of said stadium helped the identification considerably. I also recognized Texas A&M’s stadium, even though I couldn’t see the “12th Man” writing on the façade in the picture provided.

I missed Comerica Park, which I misidentified as Safeco Field. The NachoGrandma will probably flay the Nachoman for this mistake, as the skyline of Detroit – where the NachoGrandma grew up – is obviously in the background.


Next Week…
I will probably still be at my desk, sleepily waiting for the Nationals or the Mets to score a run. If this game ever ends, perhaps on a bases loaded walk, I may be able to muster the energy to write again next Friday. You see, I wouldn’t want to disappoint my reader.

NM

P.S. I was almost right -- it ended on a bases loaded wild pitch.

[1] What else is new, says Burrito Girl.
[2] Bill James suggests that a team’s winning percentage can be predicted merely from its runs scores and runs allowed. This is called the Pythagorean prediction because the formula includes some squared numbers. All you need to know is, a team that outperforms its projection is likely overrated, and vice-versa.
[3] Yes, I’m sure that many Royals fans root for the Jayhawks’ blood enemy, the Missouri Tigers. But allow me to speculate wildly anyway, please.
[4] No.
[5] But, as he would tell you, not anywhere close to as proficient as the Inuit themselves
[6] He was formerly a member of the Marine Corps Reserve

More Cueto, Hidden Disasters, and the Laws of College Fandom

Wow, look at the standings… as always, after just a handful of games, teams aren’t where we expect them to be. The struggles of the Tigers have been well documented – it makes me feel better that BOTH Joe and Terry Nacho agreed with the Nachoman that the Tigers should win their division. A quick glance at the division leaders Thursday night shows Baltimore, Kansas City, Florida, and St. Louis on top. All of these teams were at the BOTTOM of most folks’ preseason predictions! But, less than 1/16 of the season has been played. As performance regresses to the mean, talent (or lack thereof) will out, and Baltimore will nosedive into the depths of loserdom.

If you’re reading Nachoman’s Baseball for the first time, know that I watch a whole, whole lot of National League games. Not only do I follow the (suddenly competent) Reds, I also keep scoresheets for STATS, INC once or twice a week. The American League is rather a mystery to me. I invite anyone with in-depth knowledge of an AL game, team, or event to contribute to the column. In return, you will get an acknowledgement, thanks, and a distinct lack of monetary payment.

I don’t need as much help chronicling the NL, yet I welcome submissions anyway.

This week’s baseball analysis begins with a story that makes me feel nearly as warm and fuzzy as Kansas Jayhawk fans feel this week:

The spiritual impact of Johnny Cueto
I didn’t have time last week to fully express my appreciation for Johnny Cueto, the rookie Reds starter who blew the Diamondbacks away in his first major league start. It’s not just that Mr. Cueto won the game. It’s how he did it – no walks, not even a three-ball count on anyone. Viewers got the impression that he was toying with batters, that he could place the ball within about an inch of his target, and incidentally do so at 96 mph. Mr. Cueto’s mound demeanor channeled the spirit of Greg Maddux, 1996 vintage: go about your business, nothing to see here, everything’s under control.

Cincinnati is a baseball town, right up there with Boston and St. Louis for the passion, enthusiasm, and knowledge of their fans. Thing is, Boston and St. Louis have put good teams on the field over the past decade. Not just teams with good players, but teams that played good baseball. (Knowledgeable fans know the difference.) Cincinnati, on the other hand, has trotted out Jimmy Haynes, DeAngelo Jimenez, Wily Mo Pena, Danny Graves, and a whole host of similar players. The common theme: bad baseball. Pitchers afraid to throw strikes. Hitters who swing for the fences[1] no matter the situation.

Mr. Cueto’s start, along with the inaugural outing of Edinson Volquez, seems perhaps to herald a new era in a historic baseball city. In an offseason podcast, “Sports Guy” Bill Simmons noted that “appointment pitching” has come back to New York: with the acquisition of Johann Santana, Mets fans would likely figure out when he was starting so that they could come to the game, or at least watch on TV. Just as in the early days of Fernando Valenzuela in Los Angeles, people in New York will clear time in their schedules for the purpose of watching Mr. Santana pitch. When’s the last time fans considered a *Reds* pitcher worthy of an appointment? Danny Jackson in 1988? Perhaps Jose Rijo in 1990? Well, for now, Johnny Cueto delivers “appointment pitching” unto the assembled throngs in the Great American Ballpark. I wonder what the attendance will be like when he makes his next home start…


Little things that don’t show up in the box score
Tuesday night in Milwaukee, Johnny Cueto’s second start for the Reds… Mr. Cueto dominated as he did in his first start. But, JJ Hardy led off the third inning with a ground ball single. The pitcher bunted him to second, and then Jason Kendall looped a wee little liner over the shortstop’s head. Mr. Hardy had to hold near second base, so he had barely touched third when the ball reached Reds left fielder Adam Dunn. Knowing how weak Mr. Dunn is defensively, the third base coach waved Mr. Hardy around. He should have been dead to rights – even a poor throw would have nailed him. However, Mr. Dunn couldn’t even field the ball cleanly.

That sure could’ve changed the game… Mr. Cueto gave up a homer in the sixth to go behind 2-1 until Corey Patterson hit his third(!) homer of the year to tie the game in the ninth. You’ll hear about Ricky Weeks hitting a game-winning single off of David Weathers, but it’s unlikely you’ll hear much about the defensive play that could have won the game in the first inning.

Hidden stinkage
In a significant or dramatic victory, often a secondary player’s disastrous performance can be overlooked. As an example, in Mr. Cueto’s opening start victory, David Weathers walked the bases loaded in the eighth inning. Mike Lincoln bailed him out, but his outing could have – probably *should* have – ruined Johnny Cueto’s coming out party. Other examples of under-the-radar disasters:

· On opening day in Chicago, much-hyped new closer Kerry Wood gave up three runs in the ninth in what had been a scoreless game. His batters: HBP, intentional walk, sacrifice, single, double, strikeout, groundout. He still won, as new Brewers closer Eric Gagne was even worse.

· Monday night in Houston: The story of the night was Houston’s walk-off win: Miguel Tejada took rookie Kyle McClellan deep in the bottom of the ninth for the game winner. But why were these dramatics necessary? Because slow-working “closer” Jose Valverde, whom Houston picked up this offseason from the Diamondbacks, put forth his worst of three bad outings on the year. His inning: single, walk, two quick outs… single, double, and lucky out on a great defensive play by Miguel Tejada. Mr. Valverde has so far this season worked four innings, giving up five earned runs.

· Sunday in Atlanta: John Smoltz and the Braves beat Johann Santana, despite Mr. Santana’s Nachoman Quality Start. The Braves led 1-0 when Mr. Smoltz exited the game. They extended the lead to 3-0 in the eighth when Mark Teixeira homered off of Aaron Heilman (who himself had a disastrous eighth inning which truly cost the game). The hidden disaster occurred in the ninth. Rafael Soriano, the Braves new purported closer, came on to protect a 3-0 lead. His inning: leadoff walk (BOUX!), two quick outs, single, ANOTHER walk, and a hard ground ball that Mark Teixeira at first base saved from becoming a game-tying double. Braves win, no thanks to Mr. Soriano, who picked up a save for his efforts.


This disaster wasn’t so covert
An excellent pitchers’ duel between Dodger Hiroki Kuroda and Padre Justin Germano was punctured by the San Diego Bullpen. Joe Thatcher entered in the seventh inning and wished he hadn’t. He allowed four runs on three walks and a hit. After he was mercifully yoinked, major league retread Glendon Rusch tried to calm things down, but his stuff was eminently hittable – four hits and a walk later, he closed out the Dodgers six-run inning.


El Molé’s laws of college fandom
CHAPEL HILL, NC: Multiple internet sources report that, in a disaster of biblical proportions last weekend, 20,000 people died in an earthquake the University of North Carolina basketball team lost in the national semifinals.

On Sunday, El Molé gave up reading the “Inside Carolina” message board. He told me he just couldn’t stand the repeated calls for [Carolina coach] Roy Williams’ job, or the unfair comparisons to Kansas coach Bill Self.

The Tar Heels lost. They played like crap for 15 minutes, made a tremendous comeback, but came up short. SO WHAT, is El Mole’s position. The team had a good run, they made it to the final four. Mr. Williams recruited top talent, coached them through thick (double-digit wins in the early season and in the early rounds of the tournament, a strong showing in the ACC) and thin (the loss of point guard Ty Lawson, which resulted in one – just one – loss.) What’s wrong with that?

But Heels “fans,” many of whom were probably not even potty trained during the Dean Smith era, have jumped on their coach. “We’d rather have Bill Self,” they say. Then, after Mr. Williams showed up at the final openly rooting for Kansas (where he coached for fifteen years), the Carolina “fans” cried foul.

Come now… do you really think that Mr. Williams engineered a loss to Kansas for the purpose of setting them up to win? Is it that terrible to show some enthusiasm, or even respect, for a team that beat you fair and square?

The Nachoman just dismisses this kind of message board vitriol as the product of a society that no longer needs windbag sports radio hosts to bring out the stupidity of the average fanatic. No, nowadays one just posts one’s feelings for all to see, even if those feelings are as far removed from rationality as Voyager I is from the solar system.

But, Chapel Hill native El Molé takes everything about the University of North Carolina personally. In response to the idiots on “Inside Carolina,” he wants to be empowered to revoke fandom privileges where necessary. Barring that, he has come up with the first three of El Molé’s laws of college fandom:

1) Dress yourself for better or for worse. If you want the privilege of wearing your team's gear when you win, wear it after you lose, too. In fact, it's MORE important to wear it after you lose.

2) Stay until the clock reads 00:00. You owe your team that much. If you want to exult in their last-second victories and fantastic comebacks, you can't run out on them when things look dark.

3) Be secure in your fandom. If your coach says something positive about another team, it's not a threat to leave you at the altar.[2] If your program is worth caring about, your coach will care, too.


Good news on the starting pitching front
Here’s a line I’ve been reading for more than eighteen years, and I still sigh when I see it:

G. Maddux (W, 1-0): 7 IP, 3 H, 1 ER, 2 BB, 5 K.

His Padre bullpen blew up again in the ninth inning, but by then, his team was up by seven runs so it didn’t matter.


These are my kind of do-gooders
In Hermosa Beach, California, attendees at a Little League game were shocked to find game programs and hot dogs for sale from vendors. Come to think of it, there were an awful lot of fans for just a regular kids’ game.

Things got weirder when grown men – no one whom the players or their parents recognized – showed up with their chests painted to spell out the name of one of the teams. Around mid-game, a jumbotron rose from the broadcast truck in center field, revealing the NBC Sports logo and professional broadcasters. Journalists were in abundance, even setting up for a postgame press conference. All these hundreds of strange fans kept telling people how NBC Sports had come to town to broadcast the “big game.” What was *up*?

Though the teams and parents involved didn’t find out until much later, the “scene” was created and carried out by the Improve Everywhere troop out of New York. This group has attained a level of notoriety for their very public, usually humerous group stunts. They’ve spontaneously performed a musical at a mall food court; impersonated Best Buy employees; done a “groundhog day” routine in which the same customers have the same conversations repeatedly in line at a Starbucks; appointed themselves bathroom attendants at a McDonalds; and much, much more. After they create a scene, they summarize and publicize their accomplishments at their website. Check out the recap of the “Best Game Ever.”

What the Nachoman loved best about the writeup was this (slightly edited) comment from an anonymous poster:

“Amazing! Not only using their great ideas to go pantsless on the subway[3], but actually making peoples’ lives a little bit happier!”

A big "Thank You" goes to the Nachoman's college intramural volleyball teammate Alex Werner for sending this link along. I would be very, very impressed if anyone who is not a mid-1990s Haverford alumnus could come anywhere close to guessing the name of our team.

Mr. Sutton seems to give too much credit to a wild pitcher
Sunday, Gnats at Cards… Rookie John Lannan wasmissing his catcher’s glove every which way. He walked the leadoff man on five pitches, all out of the zone.

Nationals color man Don Sutton, who was once an excellent pitcher, made excuses for Mr. Lannan. “That 2-0 pitch way up and in must be setting something up for later in the count.” “First base is open, with none out and a run in. Lannan may be better off not throwing strikes here.”

Call it like it is, Don – this guy was mentally weak to open the game. Either he was too scared of major league hitters to throw the ball over the plate, or he had totally lost control of his stuff. He only got out of the first inning because two hard-hit balls went right at someone.

Then, after a homer and two straight walks, Randy St. Clair the pitching coach came to talk. Mr. Sutton suggested that, “since [Lannan] is controlling his other stuff as well as he is the fastball,” perhaps Mr. St. Clair was suggesting the use of different pitches. You're right, Don -- Mr. Lannan couldn't control his fastball at all, and he was controlling his other stuff just as well.

The worst possible pitch sequence for any pitcher, any time:

Strike 1, Strike 2, Ball 1, Ball 2, Ball 3

That was Austin Kearns against Kyle Lohse on Sunday in the second inning. Lohse isn’t going to blow anyone away with his stuff. He was ahead 0-2. Why not throw some strikes and make Mr. Kearns hit a pitch he doesn’t like? Instead, he nibbled unsuccessfully, and eventually had to come down the middle with a kindafast ball… which was laced to left for a single.

Nachoman, quit yer whinin’.
I complain about Mssrs. Lohse and Lannan, but their final lines looked nice. Lohse: 7 IP, 0 R, Nachoman Quality Start. Lannan: 6.2 IP, 2 R. Time of game: 2:19. Thing is, if either team’s hitting had been better, or even just luckier about where some balls dropped, we might have been looking at a 7-5 game.


Nachoman, ombudsman for the umpires
Now that I’ve officially attended umpire school, every baseball fan I know asks me about any sort of unusual ruling or situation. The Ribbie Reporter, among others, asked me about a highly unusual case in which an umpire reversed a call. Says Mr. Reporter:

“Top of the fifth Saturday in Atlanta, bases loaded for Met José Reyes. He hit a sinking liner into center, which a diving Mark Kotsay clearly caught off the bounce. Unfortunately, second base umpire Brian Gorman is behind the pitching mound because the bases are loaded. That leaves the call to third base ump Bruce Dreckman.”

Actually, the third base umpire had just as good a view. It’s not always the umpire who’s closest to the play who has the best angle… looking from the side, even a long way away, is actually better, because then there's space in the umpire's vision between the glove and ball. The umpire tries to set himself up so that the play is happening right-to-left across his field of vision rather than straight toward or away from him. Usually on this sort of play, the third base umpire has a better angle than the guy at second; and, as you point out, the second base umpire is unlikely to go out from the infield.

“[Mr. Dreckman] called an out, even though it was a pretty clear bounce.”

Yeah, he blew that call all right. Nothing for it. It happens, just like fielders drop popups.

“The man on third retreated back to the bag, while the man on second, who didn’t see the call, raced around third, past his teammate and on towards home. The Braves threw to second and the man was doubled off. Got it? Willie Randolph protested, umps huddled, call was reversed. The umps gave Reyes a single and moved everyone up one base, even though the man on second would have easily scored. Bobby Cox protested[4], noting that the man on second passed his teammate at third.”

Now, I'm not 100% clear on this ruling, because (according to the notoriously unreliable FOX announcers) it (probably) relies on a mlb umpire casebook interpretation. I have not read, nor do I have the opportunity to read, this casebook. Of course I understand the rulebook thoroughly; but the casebook gives additional interpretations and specific examples of situations that I am not privy to. Yesterday I sent an email to Hunter Wendelstedt inquiring as to whether it’s possible to get a copy of the casebook.

That said, here's what I think happened:

Initially, Mr. Dreckman's call stood. Runners are responsible for knowing what has been called. When the runner from second passed the runner from third, the trailing runner was immediately out -- hence, the double play. I couldn’t tell from the replay (and I tuned in just a bit too late to see the play itself), but I will bet that they ruled the guy on second out NOT because he was "doubled off" at second, but because he passed the guy from third.

But, later it was realized that Mr. Dreckman's call was wrong. At that point, the umpires could reverse the call, but HOW? Who's to say how many runs would score? Who's to say that someone wouldn't have gotten into a pickle around third? So, as I understand the ruling,[5] the ball was declared dead as soon as it hit the ground. At that point, the batter had completed his time at bat and was not put out, so he must be awarded first. The other runners would return to their bases. But, since awarding the batter first base forced the other runners, they moved up.

Since the ball was considered dead, the guy from second could have done a naked jig and it wouldn't have mattered. You can't penalize (or reward) players for actions while the ball is dead.

And if that seems unfair to the Braves, consider the other "what if": What if the ball had been thrown away, resulting in two or three runs scoring? Tough Beans. Batter to first, all others return unless forced.

The umps did eventually get the fly ball call correct, but they definitely cost the Mets a run. Could the umpires have done something better to ensure this didn’t happen? The only thing they could have done was get the original call right. Once they missed the original call, the only options were to (a) leave the wrong call to stand, or (b) reverse this wrong call in the way they did. They cannot grab some rum in the dugout and ask Jobu exactly what He thought would have happened on the play.


Yay, they got this one exactly right
Later that afternoon in San Diego, Padres catcher Josh Bard dived into the dugout, making a tremendous catch on a popup. The catch was allowed, because his feet were in live-ball territory. But, the rules state that if a player falls out of play after a catch, all runners are awarded one base. The umpires correctly told the runner on third to stroll home.


A rare interesting in-game interview
Fox Sports Cincinnati managed to get retired umpire Bruce Froemming to talk for an inning in the booth. Mr. Froemming was a guest of honor one morning when I was at Umpire School; in the booth he showed the same good speaking presence that he did for us. How good? So good that he shut up when the ball was hit so that the announcers could call the game. (He even chimed in with a bit of play-by-play.)

The Reds announcers should be credited, too, for asking good questions: Do established hitters get more calls than rookies? [No.] Has the strike zone changedin your 50 years of umpiring? [No.] What do you think of questech? [It’s grown on him.]

Mr. Froemming, as you would expect, showed tremendous knowledge of baseball. He could recall all kinds of obscure players from 20 or 30 years ago. He commented intelligently on the Brewers and Reds hitters, comparing them to others he has seen. How intelligently? Right after he loftily praised Ryan Braun, Mr. Braun fouled off five pitches and then pumped a homer to center field.


This week’s incidence of ESPN throwing its weight around
As reported in The Big Lead, ESPN’s Andy Katz was in charge of selection for a national award sponsored by the United States Basketball Writers Association. This award usually goes to a university’s sports information director, someone who “services or helps basketball writers throughout the course of a year.” Except, this year, Mr. Katz successfully nominated two ESPN media relations folks, including Mr. Katz’s own publicist. According to John Feinstein, many of the association’s general membership were perturbed at the appearance of nepotism.

And the Nobel Peace Prize goes to…
…The NPP committee, for their monumental efforts to bring peace to the world.

This week’s thing that ESPN actually does right
Just like so many websites, espn.com includes a daily poll of its readers. Ho, hum. The question is usually banal (“Do you believe Roger Clemens”), and overly cute (Who had a worse weekend, the guy who lost the championship or the guy who was dumped by his celebrity girlfriend?). But because of their quirky way of presenting the results, even silly polls can become interesting.

If you vote, the site pops up a window with a map of the United States. Each state is colored based on the most common answer to the poll question. Mousing over a state brings up a more detailed summary of that state’s total number of responses and each answer’s popularity.

On Monday morning, the ESPN poll question was, obviously, “Who will win the NCAA championship game?” Checking the map was like watching presidential election returns, except a lot more fun.[6] As you would expect, in Kansas, 82% think Kansas will win, to 18% for Memphis. In Tennessee, it’s exactly 82%-18% the other way. This data includes a significant sample size – just under 4000 votes in each state. Worldwide[7], Memphis led 59%-41%. Only four of Kansas’s border states and the Dakotas believed in the Jayhawks. Oh, and, for some reason, Alaska.


Reader comments
The NachoGrandpa reports that, despite my claims in my opening day column, Carl Lindner was not a member of the NachoGrandpa’s synagogue. In fact, Mr. Lindner is not even Jewish – he’s Baptist. Yet, Mr. Lindner *did* in fact donate to the synagogue, and (according to the NachoGrandpa) to many other generally Jewish causes.

Next week
Improv Everywhere secretly arranges to send enormous numbers of fans to a Florida Marlins game, making the players feel like true major leaguers. Let's just hope this event doesn't turn pantsless.


[1] And miss
[2] Nachoman’s note: Rule 3 does not apply to Nick Saban.
[3] Which the group does annually: Here’s a link to no pants 2k8.
[4] Of course
[5] i.e. I'm not positive here, but making a very educated guess
[6] There were even “blue states” and “red states” – blue for Memphis, red for Kansas.
[7] Yes, truly worldwide – of 168,000 votes, 34,000 were outside the USA. The overseas vote matched the domestic vote precisely.

Mario's miracle -- by the Ribbie Reporter

I'm a huge Kansas and Kansas City fan. That's why I go by the Ribbie Reporter (because of KC's wonderful BBQ ribs). Here is a short synopsis of Monday night, with a much lengthier post of my thoughts included right below it. This is the body of an e-mail I sent to the Nachoman.

I was truly crushed at the thought that we'd let the game get away, only to have us launch this furious comeback. I've seen these comebacks before. They never work. So I was just sitting there, morosely watching this futile attempt at a rally. And then, lo and behold, the rims closed for Memphis, the shots fell for us, and we had a chance to tie the game with 10 seconds remaining and the ball in our hands. But I'd seen this before, in 1997 and 2003. The comeback always falls just short. But this year, on the 20th anniversary of Danny and the Miracles (the Burnt End Bomber was at that game, while I, at 18 months, supposedly watched part of the game at home with my mom), the comeback worked. The shot went through. This time it was Mario's Miracle. And now we're the champs.

What do you do when your dream comes true? -- by the Ribbie Reporter

The Kansas Jayhawks are the national champions. Wow. I can’t believe I finally get to write and say that.
If you read this blog on a regular basis, you know that I’m a huge homer for the Royals and the Jayhawks. In 2002, as a shy Woodberry freshman, I ran my Kansas flag up the Woodberry flagpole to celebrate our trip to the final four. This year I dug the flag out of a corner in my room and sent it to my brother, a Woodberry senior, by overnight mail (it was expensive, but well worth it). The flag made an appearance Sunday morning to remind WFS's 100 North Carolina students exactly how the throwdown between KU and its old coach had turned out. Perhaps we can get the Nachoman to add his thoughts on the flag and its appearance.
To be honest, I don’t even know how to describe Monday night’s game against Memphis. Much of it already seems like a blur. Let’s see if I can break things down in a more or less organized fashion.
First half: Kansas did an excellent job on the defensive end. Coach Bill Self knew that Memphis stars Chris Douglas-Roberts and Derrick Rose were going to get the majority of the touches, so the Jayhawks turned a rotation of guards loose on the those two players. Sherron Collins and Russell Robinson did a great job limiting Rose, who makes the Memphis offense click by driving to the basket and either drawing a foul, getting a lay-up or kicking the ball out for an open jumper. To counter this plan, Robertson and Collins worked to take away Rose’s drive and make him dump the ball off 25 or 30 feet away from the basket. This forced Memphis out of its usual free-wheeling offense and into a slower, more traditional half-court style. On the offensive end, Kansas did an excellent job of getting the Memphis big men Dorsey, Dozier and Taggart into foul trouble. At the same time, they got a handful of easy baskets in the paint but missed a bunch of shots from behind the arc. Kansas by five at the half. I spent the first five minutes shaking… literally shaking from anxiety! I was convinced that I was going to have an ulcer.

Second half: Here’s the problem with the Kansas team: we have a bunch of great players, but we don’t’ have someone who is going to be an NBA superstar. In fact, I don’t know if any of our players will even be all stars in the future. Derrick Rose is a future all star, and during the second half he just took over. We couldn’t do anything to stop him during the last 15 minutes of the game. He was making unbelievable shots, finding the open man – even banking in a three (later changed to a two because his foot was over the line) while falling down as the shot clock expired. In the meantime, my ulcer was growing progressively worse. I was having terrible flashbacks to all of the Kansas choke jobs I’ve seen in the last 10-15 years. Memphis led by nine with 2:12 left to play… I was sitting on my bed with my head in my hands while my roommates and girlfriend removed sharp objects and all potential projectile objects from my reach.
Let’s be honest. This game was over. Even after Darrell Arthur dropped in a turnaround jumper with 2:08 left, we were still going to have to foul and pray. That’s when all hell broke loose. Memphis knew Kansas was looking to foul, yet they couldn’t even get the ball in bounds! Kansas has three guards (Robinson, Mario Chalmers and Collins) who are great ball hawks. Sure enough, Collins grabbed the ball, fired it inside, and then took a kick-out and nailed the three (ah, so there’s that three point shooting we were missing earlier). Despite the three, Kansas would probably need to foul down the stretch.

I don’t need to remind everyone how bad Memphis has been at free throw shooting this year. Enough has been said on that subject. But let’s put it this way: In 2003, when Kansas lost to Syracuse 83-80 in the national title game, the Jayhawks went something like 13-30 on their free throws. The next year, Woodberry basketball coach Brent Bell started a practice drill called Jayhawk. Players had to shoot a one-and-one. Make both shots, and you stood aside. Miss the first and you ran 18 lines. Make one and miss one meant nine lines. Anyway, Kansas missed their first free throw Monday night and made the next 14, including every single one in overtime when Memphis was trying to rally. Memphis, at the end of regulation, saw the wheels fall off. Douglas-Roberts missed a pair with 16.2 seconds left and Kansas Down two. That pair came after he missed a short bucket with 30 seconds left, only to be bailed out when Collins tried to make a miraculous lay-up in traffic with two Memphis defenders in front of him. Amazingly enough, KU didn’t get the rebound after the second miss, and Rose got a chance to ice the game with 10 ticks remaining. He missed the first and made the second, allowing Mario Chalmers to launch what is sure to become one of the most famous shots in NCAA history. Tuesday morning, Mr. Bell e-mailed me. The “Jayhawk” drill will be called “Memphis” when WFS starts practice next year.

Chalmers’s shot, for all intents and purposes, finally exorcised the choke demons that have plagued KU since 1988. When it went up, I immediately thought about the 1997 Sweet 16 loss to Arizona, when Jacque Vaughn missed what would have been the tying three pointer from almost the same spot. I thought about 2003 (yes, the shot was still in the air… these thoughts were rather rapid) when Michael Lee’s three pointer to tie was swatted out of bounds by Hakim Warrick with two seconds left. This time, the shot dropped, and I let out a rather primal yell before collapsing onto my bed in a heap. I spent the commercial break before overtime doing something that was half laughing and half crying. Then I drank a beer (only my second of the night… I was too nervous to drink more) in the hopes that having something to do would distract me (Hah! Fat chance!). All my life, I’ve watched great Kansas teams fall behind, launch a furious comeback and come up just short. This time, the comeback actually worked.

How do you top a shot like that? When you’ve seen so many great teams upset in the early rounds or finally knocked out at the final moment, what do you do when the win finally comes? Intellectually, I know that shot only happened because Memphis pulled a massive choke job by missing all those free throws. I don’t care. Those last two minutes of basketball were brilliant. The Arthur bucket that cut it to seven was a flawless low post move. The steal and three pointer off the inbound were picturesque. And the Chalmers three was the dagger that really finished things off.

It’s no surprise that Kansas ran away in overtime. Memphis was gassed and had nobody left to guard Arthur and Darnell Jackson down low after Dorsey fouled out in the last two minutes. I had a minor heart attack when the Tigers cut the lead down to three with 55 seconds remaining, but after we pushed the lead out to five and got a stop I was finally able to start a long-awaited celebration.

Kansas didn’t have the best individual players in that game. We don’t have anyone who can compare to Michael Beasley, Derrick Rose or even Stephen Curry. But this time, at long last, we had the best team. We had a nasty lineup of hulking big men and a collection of ball hawking guards who could shoot, drive and play some defense.

The shot went down, and I can only hope that yell I let out means I’ll never have another flashback to the heartbreaking losses of my childhood. And I hope that my brother safely retrieved the flag from the flagpole. I think that thing is now officially a family heirloom.

Rock Chalk Jayhawk.

Bobby, Dusty, Joe West, and a duck

(Above: The Bullpen Stinkage Spectrum. See text.)

The intention this week was to lead the column with a brief summary of Thursday night’s Albemarle High School varsity baseball game, where the Nachoman had the plate. Problem is, for the second time this week, my game was rained out. In pro ball, where copious money is at stake, teams have significant financial incentive to get a game in, even in monsoon conditions. Umpires are under orders to finish a game unless they see an ark floating by. At the high school level, though, incentives work in the other direction. In rural Virginia, teams have to drive an hour or two to get to their away game. They don’t want to go through the trouble (and the expense) if it’s likely that the game won’t be played. No one, not spectators, umpires, or players, really wants to play in a downpour. So games are cancelled on even the credible threat of rain. Good thing, too, as it’s raining in my classroom already.[1]

Since I wasn’t umpiring this week, I got to watch a good bit of baseball. I know that both of my readers want to hear what I have to say about…

The difference between radio and television
I watched the pregame for the inaugural game at the new park in Washington with ESPN on mute; simultaneously, I listened on Nationals radio. The Gnats starting lineup was introduced with mightily over-the-top praise for each player[2] while the theme from the Magnificent Seven played in the background. A DC-native opera star gave a vibrato-heavy performance of the national anthem. President Bush received a dramatic introduction. He delivered the ceremonial first pitch, which was a perfect strike according to the home team radio pimp. The Nachoman, though, knew different – ESPN clearly showed the pitch to be above head level.

The 8:05 scheduled start actually started at 8:20. The radio pimp noted dramatically that we should all remember where we were for the first pitch at the new stadium. So I have now added to my list of momentous events in American History:

· On February 22, 1980, I watched from my living room as the US hockey team beat the Soviets.[3]
· On January 28, 1986, when the space shuttle blew up, I watched from my living room couch with strep throat
· On Sepetember 11, 2001, I worked in my classroom and initially pooh-poohed reports that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. ("So what?" I thought. "Probably some drunk idiot in a Cessna.")
· And now, on March 30, 2008, I watched from the living room couch as President George “Curly W” Bush inaugurated Nationals Ballpark To Be Given A Corporate Name Later. Whoopie.

All I actually remember about this momentous occasion was the ESPN graphic noting that the cost of Nationals Park was $611 million. That’s $2 per American citizen. Me, I’d rather keep my 16 bits and let Ted Lerner pay for his own toys.


The next candidate for Steve Sax / Chuck Knoblauch disease
First inning, Opening Day in Cincinnati, the D-Backs second batter hit a hot shot to third base. Edwin Encarnacion picked it clean. With plenty of time, he threw a lollypop high ­to first, causing the first baseman to come off the bag. Result: E-5, one unearned run in the inning in an eventual 4-2 Reds loss.

I mention this because it seems that Mr. Encarnacion has had this trouble for several years. He makes quick, difficult throws easily. However, if he has time, fans hold their breath. Sound familiar? That was the same problem faced by eventual Yankees Steve Sax and Chuck Knoblauch late in their careers. Now, I recognize that Mssrs. Sax and Knoblauch were second basemen, who routinely screwed up throws that the Nachoman could make in his sleep. But I put it to you: is a third baseman eligible to have Sax-Knoblauch syndrome?


This is Bobby Cox’s fault
Monday night final from Atlanta: Pirates 12, Braves 11 (12 innings). The line score tells a deeper story. The Braves led 4-2 after five innings. Then the Pirates scored 7 runs to lead in the 9th. But, the Braves rallied with 5 in the 9th to tie. The game was scoreless until the 12th, when the Pirates scored 3; Atlanta managed to respond with 2 in the bottom of the 12th, but that was it.

Take a look at the box score, which gives further incriminating details. Atlanta manager Bobby Cox used 22 of the 25 players on his roster. That was not necessarily the problem, especially in a long extra-inning game. It’s the pitching lines that should cause Atlanta fans to groan.

Everyone associated with the Braves would place their bullpen somewhere along a spectrum running from “unproven” to “shaky” and all the way to “stinky.” On Monday, starter Tom Glavine managed only five strong innings. Mr. Cox was tasked with manipulating his relievers to hold a two-run lead. He sent Chris Resop (career ERA 5.56) out for the sixth, causing the lead to shrink by a run. Mr. Resop came out to begin the seventh, but was replaced after warm-ups by Will Ohman.[4] Mr. Ohman faced two batters before being replaced by Peter Moylan; two more batters later, Royce Ring came in to finish off the inning.

Okay, you say, the Nachoman is simply perturbed at Mr. Cox for making three pitching changes in the same inning. Of course I’m angry about that – I hate baseball games that drag on. What truly maddens me, beyond mere personal begrudgement, is that I don’t think it is even good strategy to use pitchers for short stints, except perhaps on rare occasions. The small advantage that might be gained by a platoon advantage or man-on-man matchup I think is outweighed by upsetting the rhythm of a pitcher. I would like to see some stats on how a reliever performs as a function of number of batters faced. My hunch is that performance might peak with the third to sixth batter. Anyone want to do the research?

Anyway, Bobby’s urge to burn relievers came back to haunt him later. In the 12th, he was forced to resort to Blaine Boyer, whose experience numbered 42 major league innings over three seasons. The result: leadoff hit, sacrifice, walk, three run dinger.

Come on, Nachoman, you say. Quit yer whinin’. Mr. Boyer was on the roster, Bobby’d be stupid not to give him the ball occasionally. What better time than in an extra inning game?

Right, right, I’m not even knocking Bobby for using Mr. Boyer. I’m just sayin’ two things here:

1. Bobby would have presented himself with MORE CHOICES in extra innings had he used his relievers for as long as they were effective. I mean, what if the game had gone 13 or 14 innings?
2. Warming up a pitcher for a third of an inning, possibly burning him for action on the following day, seems awfully wasteful to me. The Braves had a Tuesday off day, so Monday's bullpen wastage didn't have much effect. But Bobby did the same thing on Wednesday, using multiple relievers for short stints. Then in extra innings Thursday night, Chris Resop played in the outfield for a while so that enough pitchers would be available.
3. Having gone to Umpire School, I’m obliged to criticize Bobby wherever possible, because he returns the favor to the umpires. (I also learned that it is legal for a pitcher to leave the mound, assume another defensive position, AND return to the mound once per inning.)


Some subtle advertising you may have missed
The plate umpire for Pittsburgh-Atlanta on Monday night was long time veteran Joe West, country singer and designer/peddler of “West Vest” protective gear for umpires. (You can check out both of Mr. West’s pastimes at www.joewestmusic.com and www.umpirejoewest.com.)

On a cold evening in Atlanta, Mr. West wore an overcoat, but not over the usual umpire’s black shirt. His coat showed the top of his chest, 1970’s style, so that we would expect to see John Travolta-style exposure. But, of course, Mr. West wore a West Vest chest protector, much of which, including the giant “W” logo, was obviously visible. I guess only other umpires would consider such attire an advertisement, but that’s what it was…


Moderately amusing offbeat news story of the week #1
From the Idaho Statesman:

A 35-year-old Boise man accused of throwing a McDonald’s hamburger at another motorist during a “road rage” incident on Tuesday night is charged with misdemeanor battery and resisting arrest.

Mmmm… so, if the Nachoman manages to enrage a driver in the Taco Bell parking lot… FREE TACOS!


What this baseball executive really meant to say…
"With Barry Bonds gone, this is a club at the beginning of a new era." -- Peter Magowan, president, SF Giants

“With Barry Bonds gone four years ago, he and his entourage banishéd from the clubhouse, and the money they paid him suitably reinvested in developing players, this is a club that COULD HAVE BEEN at the peak of their new era right now.” -- the Nachoman


Am I on drugs without knowing it?
I’m watching the Arizona broadcast of the Diamondbacks against the Reds in Cincinnati. They’re interviewing Mr. Redlegs in the booth. Mr. Redlegs, for the uninitiated, is the Reds mascot with the enormous baseball for a head.[5] Interview topics included Mr. Redlegs’ opinion on a called strike three; the legitimacy of the mascot rooting openly for the home team in the visitors’ broadcast booth; Mr. Redlegs’ resemblance to Mr. Met; and the apparent behind-the-scenes feud between Mr. Redlegs and Mr. Red.

Even Burrito Girl, who proudly proclaims her ignorance about all things baseball, asked the question: HOW CAN THEY INTERVIEW A MASCOT WHO CAN’T TALK?

Well, to the Diamonbacks announcers’ credit, they carried off a difficult gig on this day. Although the Nachoman has been known to yell at the television during a Monday Night Football celebrity visit, the Mr. Redlegs interview was so surreal it became amusing. I mean, why not… in a sparsely attended day game on the third day of the season, why not get a bit silly for a half inning? Kudos especially to the play-by-play man for actually keeping focus on the game while Mr. Redlegs mimed; and a round of applause goes to the director, who showed Mr. Redlegs’ antics while still showing every bit of game action.


More to the point, is Dusty Baker on drugs?
Rookie Johnny Cueto put on a pitching clinic for seven innings Thursday in his major league debut. I watched with my jaw in my lap. Understand that for two decades or more I have watched the Reds bring up much-hyped young fireballers to make their first starts. In virtually every case, the gentleman in question has walked the leadoff hitter along with about five more batters before giving up the ghost around about the fourth inning. You’ll forgive me if I was skeptical about Mr. Cueto’s debut.

This 22-year-old turned out to be more than merely a nervous ball of unfulfilled expectations.[6] Even though he started last year in single-A, he was more than ready for prime time. Against the team the Nachoman picked to win the NL West, Mr. Cueto pitched perfect ball through five innings. He allowed one hit – a home run to Justin Upton – no walks, and ten (count ‘em – 10!) strikeouts. More important, Mr. Cueto did not fool around. He threw strikes all day. Even the balls were usually just off the corners. When he got ahead 0-2 or 1-2, he didn’t “waste” a pitch. No indeed, he usually sent in a nasty, diving change-up right on or just barely off of the corner. His mechanics seemed under control. Though he was blowing 96 mph heat by D-back after D-back, Mr. Cueto never looked like he was giving more than cruise control level effort. Whenever folks complain that the Nachoman lacks an aesthetic sense, I note that my perception of beauty is simply different from theirs. Most people like ballet, or Renaissance paintings; I appreciate good pitching.

After seven innings, the Reds (having left ten men on base) led 3-1. Mr. Cueto had thrown 92 easy-looking pitches. So, obviously, I guess, Dusty Baker yoinked his dominant starter in favor of David Weathers. Probably Mr. Baker could hear the Nachoman rending garments, even across the 500 mile distance.

I might need to remind those of you who were not as traumatized as I of the recent history of the Reds bullpen. No Nasty Boys these… I can’t remember whether they cost the Reds 30 or 40 games last year. When these folks came a-trotting in, true Reds fans either changed the channel or buried their heads in the couch cushions.

Sure enough…

Mr. Cuerto went to a 3-ball count maybe – MAYBE – once all night. David Weathers, however, walked the second batter he faced. And the third. And the fourth. He gave way to Mike Lincoln (career ERA 5.15) and angry boos from the home crowd. Mr. Lincoln allowed a sac fly, but escaped the jam.

Next, Francisco Cordero entered and retired the side 1-2-3 – but went to 3-ball counts on two of his three hitters. I was nervous and antsy throughout the bullpens’ exploits on Thursday, while the 22-year-old first-time starter had me relaxed, enjoying a masterful performance. Now, it’s a good thing I’m not the Reds owner or GM, because I propose a two-pronged plan for this staff:

1. An inverse-decimation[7] of the bullpen, and
2. The appointment of Johnny Cueto as pitching coach.



Moderately amusing offbeat news story of the week #2
Fox News reports that a Sydney, Australia man called police for help because he was being raped by a wombat.

Thing is, no fewer than *three* sports websites used this story this week. What does that say about sports fans? And me, for reading these sites?


You don’t say?
Regarding Wombat Man, “Police prosecutor Sergeant Chris Stringer told the court alcohol played a large role in [Wombat Man’s] life.”


Fox News, is Jerry Springer your head writer?
Now, I’m not one to pick on Fox News in particular, but this must say something about their readers. Among the “most read” stories on the side of the screen:

Man Faces Charges for Having Sex With Picnic Table
Lawsuit: Huge Atom Smasher Could Destroy World
Kate Bosworth Gets Drunk to Shoot Love Scene, Can't Remember It
Pop Tarts: Miley Cyrus: 'Faith Keeps Me Grounded'
Teen's Underwear Dance at McDonald's Leads to Robbery, Assault Arrest
Lawyer: Woman Forced to Remove Nipple Rings at Airport


More shocking, shocking news
Mike Hampton of the Braves was scratched just before Thursday’s scheduled start because he felt discomfort while warming up.


A cautionary tale of opulence and stupidity.
In Boca Raton, Florida, the former haunt of the Nachoman, the captain of the West Boca High School cheerleading squad died of complications during breast augmentation surgery. See the article here from the Palm Beach Post. I will not at all go into angry social commentary about the vapidity of life in Boca Raton, other than to note that I do *not* live there anymore, and for good reason. However, I will include two quotations from the article, and let my readers draw their own scary conclusions, these being that Boca Raton should be leased to the US Air Force for nuclear testing:

1. “In her reserved "senior" parking spot, the one where she parked her white Lexus every school day, friends placed more flowers, teddy bears and pictures.”

2. Kuleba was beloved by classmates at West Boca High, more than 400 of whom gathered outside the school Sunday night for a candlelight vigil…Organizers charged $1 for each candle at the vigil -- money that will be given to Kuleba's family for expenses.

Now please don’t get after the Nachoman for insensitivity. I do feel sorry for this girl. I mean, no one expects to die from what is today considered minor surgery. And, though I rail viciously at participants in Boca’s image-is-everything culture, I’m in no way suggesting that this poor girl’s death was appropriate karmic retribution. What I’m angry about is (a) parents and teenagers who feel that arranging for a high school student to have a boob job (or even to have a Lexus!) is an appropriate use of resources; and far, far worse, (b) fellow students who feel a need to DONATE MONEY to a family that makes such financial decisions. This is why other counties hate the USA… and why I hate Boca Raton.


What do Nutella, strawberries, and a duck have in common?
Alexandra Paressant is a “French Model” who claimed to have affairs with Ronaldino and Tony Parker. Multiple independent investigations of her claims show them to be fraudulent; and she herself is a fraud, with faked pictures on MySpace and even on her French national ID card. Dana Kennedy of The Huffington Post[8] did some excellent investigative reporting to expose this compulsive liar.

“Paressant … contacted [a website] with images of what she said were text messages from Parker and stories about their alleged sex life involving Nutella, strawberries and a ...duck.”

Now, how does the Nachoman find out about this sort of stuff? I read the Huffington Post, of course. Or, rather, (ahem) I read The Sports Guy, who linked to this story in early January. Read the entire article: Dana Kennedy: Tony Parker's French Fatal Attraction And Me - Entertainment on The Huffington Post


This week’s prize for “most inappropriate historical reference in a sports column”
…goes to Furman Bisher in his Atlanta Journal-Constitution blog:

“Money can change any habit. Eight springs ago the Mets and Cubs opened the season, not in Cincinnati. Guess where? Tokyo. That Tokyo, the guys who gave us Pearl Harbor. Some people don’t like you to bring that up, trade with Japan is so hot. But I’ve got a long memory. I saw what a few bombs can do to our property.”

Wow… how is it that sports journalists nationwide are spending hundreds of thousands of words whining about whether or not to be offended by imagery of LaBron James and Giselle Bundchen, while Mr. Bisher’s impolitic idiocy draws ire only from the clever gentlemen at firejoemorgan.com?[9]

Speaking of Mr. James and Ms. Bundchen

Thirty years ago a black guy would never have been allowed on the cover of Vogue whatsoever, let alone portrayed in an interracial embrace. Thirty years ago, this cover would have provoked foamed spittle from dangerous, powerful, and ignorant right-wing elements for its mere existence. Last week, this cover provoked foamed spittle from benign, impotent, and usually ignorant journalists who were desperate for something to fill out their columns. Charles Barkely is right – I wish “sports journalists” would stop opining about race and politics, and just stick to sports. Problem is, says Charles, they don’t know anything about sports to start with!


Broadcaster quotation of the week
"Prince Fielder, the largest vegetarian since stegosaurus, comes up to the plate."
-- ESPN.com's Jim Caple

Thanks to the Ribbie Reporter for passing that one along.


Speaking of the Ribbie Reporter…
Jacob Geiger, a.k.a. the Ribbie Reporter, sent along his opening day notes. I intended to write my yearly discussion of the Nachoman Quality Start (NQS) in this week’s column, but Mr. Reporter took care of that for me in his post. Check out his work on the previous post to this site.


Next Week
Burrito Girl keeps talking about getting a bunny. I hope she’s not also acquiring Nutella and strawberries.

NM

[1] Really. The Woodberry science building needs a new roof. Either that or a thorough renovation using TNT.
[2] Even Ronnie Belliard
[3] Although I know now that the game was tape delayed.
[4] Thus incurring the wrath of the Nachoman for delay of game.
[5] As distinct from Mr. Red, the *other* Reds mascot with the enormous baseball head. You can tell them apart because Mr. Redlegs has a mustache and a stripy red hat.
[6] At least for his first start
[7] i.e. eliminate not one of every ten, but NINE of every ten
[8] Whatever that is
[9] The Nachoman especially likes how the FJM folks included the label “Pearl Harbor the harbor not the movie” on this post.