Know Your Enemy: Houston Astros

A sage Danny Ozark once said, "Half this game is ninety percent mental." To keep your competitive fire in the offseason, you've got to continuously measure yourself against your opponents. You've got to prepare yourself psychologically for another season full of animosity for people you've never met. You've got to Know Your Enemy.

I honestly thought that we could close the book on Ed Wade as a major league general manager after that public arm of the mysterious Phillies ownership, Bill Giles, at the end of the 2005 season. Any of the good mojo he earned trading Kevin Stocker for Bobby Abreu at the beginning of his tenure was reversed tenfold by the end. Simply uttering the words "David Bell" turns even the hardest Philadelphian into a sobbing, quivering mass of flesh (unsubstantiated rumors fly about the phrase "Curt Schilling traded for Vicente Padilla" being responsible for a stroke in Norristown). Wade just seemed like a nice guy who was in way over his head.

Fast forwarding to 2007, the Houston Astros fire the manager and GM of a sluggish team struggling to replicate the success of a pennant run two years earlier, when they dispatched Wade's Phillies to earn the Wild Card. Who better to oversee personnel than the guy who watched a team that was 15 games under .500 in the middle of 2005 sneak past him and into the playoffs? To be fair, he really thought Matt Kata was going to put the Phils over the top. And according to the Astros, Drop Dead Ed actually beat out a whopping ten other candidates for the GM job. Ten! Who were they? The cast of The Real World: Sydney and three of Larry King's ex-wives?

But before this turns into another Ed Wade bash-a-thon, let's take a look at some Astros history and their current roster. Houston's franchise arc was very similar to Philadelphia's until the 1990s, when they became the NL Central's answer to the Atlanta Braves--a bunch of playoff appearances with little to show for it. Besting the Phillies for the WC in both 2004 and 2005 (on the last day of the season!), there was a chance that the Astros could have started a mini-rivalry, forever splitting the loyalties of Mark Portugal.

The 'Stros actually had been owning the Phils for several years since the two teams clashed in the first series at Enron Field Astros Field Minute Maid Park; whatever juice this matchup still has is probably carried over from the 1980 NLCS, one of the greatest playoff series of the past 30 years. One might expect a preponderance of Phillie Killers on their roster, but except for new addition Kaz Matsui that doesn't seem to be the case (betcha the Rockies are happy about the return of another GM who doesn't understand the Coors Effect). What you do have are a bunch of guys that are supposed to be dynamite against everybody--Oswalt, Berkman, Carlos Lee, and the recently-acquired Miguel Tejada. And while Houston has a potentially scary lineup once you plug in Hunter Pence and super-scrapper Mark Loretta, it's easy to see that this team isn't getting any younger.

Repetitive as it sounds, it all comes back to Wade, who within a matter of months completely decimated the depth in his outfield and bullpen (scroll to the bottom) for an aging SS named in the Mitchell Report, a decent but overhyped closer (aren't they all?), and some spare parts from his old Phillies teams. The Tejada trade actually reminds me a lot of the Jim Thome signing: a fairly questionable move from a baseball standpoint considering age and durability, but a move designed to galvanize the fanbase and get more A.I.S. (Asses in Seats).

The situation beneath the surface is so dire that, according to Wikipedia, the Astros have invited faces such as Jose Cruz Jr. and--I hope you're sitting down--Tomas Effin' Perez to spring training in 2008. If I had my way, the nation would be pulling harder for Tomas than it was for Sanjaya.

Threat Level: Low. If a couple of bumps in foul territory at Wrigley could make both of Michael Bourn's ankles buckle, what happens when he hits that stupid hill in centerfield?

Ok, one last joke: Woody Williams!

Philling In: All Your Mascot Names Sucked Anyway

Further dispatches from the continuing saga of the Lehigh Valley IronPigs mascot: from a pool of what was surely dozens of entries, IronPigs management selected 'PorkChop' as the winner and formally christened the big gray suit earlier this month. Yet another OneWord, but it's harmless and cute enough, right?

Turns out that 'Pork Chop' is kinda sorta racist to the Hispanic community. Or the Portuguese community. Or whoever. A couple weeks later, I'm still a little confused. The IronPigs reacted swiftly, re-naming the mascot 'Ferrous' (making a local-TV commercial parody of Ferris Bueller's Day Off inevitable). And while it's not clear that the new name was also entered into the original name contest, I find the official reaction captured in the latest issue of Sports Illustrated quite illuminating:

"The name PorkChop was not much better than the other names submitted," spokesman Matt Provence says. "To 'cave,' you need to give up something. We didn't really give up anything."

Yeah, screw you, winning fan! Go IronPigs!

- On the same page of the aformentioned SI, there's a great feature that asks all major league GMs to provide a "one-word assessment" of their clubs after the winter meetings. Gillick's response is "Close," which is more perfect than he knows. It's probably one of the best responses next to the A's Billy Beane ("Healing") and the Braves' Frank Wren ("Recharging"). The dunce cap is split between the Royals' Dayton Moore ("Futuristic") and the Astros' Wacky Ed Wade ("Solidifying").

- Speaking of Ed Wade, he proved he's still got it by trading for an aging Miguel Tejada days before he was outed for buying steroids in the Mitchell Report. Enjoy your new GM, Astros fans.

- And speaking of the Mitchell Report (transitions are dynamite today), the fallout for the Phillies is rather inconsequential. Like most of the guys named in the report, the former Phils that bought the juice/cow hormones either weren't that good to begin with (Gary Bennett), were already under suspicion (Lenny Dykstra), or had already been exposed (David Bell). How much did this cost MLB again?

Know Your Enemy: San Diego Padres

A sage Danny Ozark once said, "Half this game is ninety percent mental." To keep your competitive fire in the offseason, you've got to continuously measure yourself against your opponents. You've got to prepare yourself psychologically for another season full of animosity for people you've never met. You've got to Know Your Enemy.

What is it with the NL West these days? Arguably once the most likable division in baseball, it's transformed into a bona fide hate-fest for Phillies fans. And while I could easily summon my vitriol for the Dodgers and the Rockies, another club that I genuinely liked has started acting like Andrew McCarthy's asshat character in Pretty in Pink: the San Diego Padres.

First they stole Randy Wolf for the same money and incentives package he likely would have received from the Phillies (who, I should reiterate, never gave up on Wolf as his arm problems surfaced and certainly didn't take to calling him a "risk").

Then, with rumors that Tad Iguchi was re-considering the Phils' request that he switch to third base, the Pads came out of nowhere and snapped him up to start at second. Tad's "No. 1 desire was to play in San Diego"? Bitch, please. The man's No. 1 desire was a vacant 45-foot stretch of dirt between first and second base. That I can understand. I just thought he'd be playing in Colorado or something. I knew Marcus Giles had a rough year, but man, Kevin Towers is one slippery robber baron.

Just like Duckie, it's the Phillies that were the caring, colorful, and loyal-to-a-fault option for Wolf and Iguchi. But there's a reason Duckie doesn't get the girl--he's far too familiar. Phillies fans want to feel as close as possible to their players, blurring the line between passion and obsession. Padres fans, I feel, are typical San Diegans: a generally conservative, laid-back lot that take pride in their pretty scenery and their relative freedom from the burdens of history (athletic and otherwise). The Phils have a "past." The Pads, not so much.

Threat Level: Moderate to high. San Diego definietly has the pitching for another run at a playoff berth, but there's plenty of room for improvement in the lineup. Their outfield is especially...what? Jason Bay? Leave Pennsylvania alone, dammit!

Randy Come Home: A Post Break-Up Letter to Randy Wolf

Dear Randy,

There's only one question on my mind.

Why?

Why did you go and sign a one-year, $9 million contract with the Padres on Saturday? Why did I have to find this out two days later from ESPN? Did you know I would be distracted on the weekend, with football and basketball season in full swing? Did you think I just wouldn't find out until it was too late for me to get really upset? It wasn't even mentioned on any Phillies website or blog, Randy. It was as if those 8 seasons you spent in Philadelphia didn't even exist.

I was fine with your brief flirtation with the Dodgers last year. After all, it was only a one-year contract. And after respecting your wishes to go off and "find yourself" or whatever it is that left-handed pitchers do, Phillies management showered you with attention once you came back on the market. But is running to San Diego the way to treat the franchise that drafted and discovered you, that stuck with you through Tommy John surgery and forgave you for leaving the first time?

Is it our ballpark, Randy? Sure, you got a few more grounders in LA but the numbers were pretty much the same when you were healthy at CBP. Moving to the Padres' cow pasture makes you look kinda shallow, if I'm being honest. And if you thought the Dodgers had offensive problems, wait until you see the run support you'll get from the Giles brothers, et al.

Look, I know things haven't gone perfectly. Philadelphia is a demanding place for a professional athlete, especially for one who grew up in touchy-feely SoCal. There's no excuse for why you were never an Opening Day starter, not when some of the alternatives were Kevin Millwood, Robert Person, and (good Lord) Omar Daal.

If you're worried about your career, I'd like to introduce you to Jamie Moyer. He's a lefty that's never really tried to overpower hitters much. He knows he'll playing in a bandbox, but he's smart enough to utilize his defensive support and capitalize on the hubris of sluggers. He's funny, articulate, and a good example for the rest of the team. Sound like any free agent you know knew? (Hint: it's not Mark Redman)

Finally, I challenge you to name one thing in Canoga Park--besides your family--that you can't find in Chester County. On the other hand, Randy, I know something you won't find anywhere but in Philadelphia. No way you could get this in California--not in the vomit-soaked all-you-can-eat bleachers in Dodger Stadium, definitely not in a place where even Bill Walton and Milton Bradley couldn't alienate the fans into fits of delirium for maddening but talented athletes. I just hope you haven't forgotten:



Sincerely,
Eric Ambler

Do You Recall...Unlucky Phillies Caps?

The Mothership recently unveiled the Phils' alternate home uniforms for the upcoming season, based on the Fightins 1946-1949 home unis (the redesign immediately after the infamous wartime "Philadelphia Blue Jays" phase). While the Baker Bowl approves of the pinstripe-less jerseys with the snazzy blue accents, that cap brings back some bad memories. Do you recall...unlucky Phillies caps?



1994 was a bad enough year for baseball what with all that "canceling the World Series" claptrap. Unfortunately, it was also the year that Philadelphia dipped its toe into the relatively deserted "alternative" merchandise market, featuring the awfully familiar blue day game cap featured above. The record shows that these only lasted a month because the players considered them to be bad luck. I also remember the team wearing blue-billed caps during Businessperson's Specials for a few years in the mid-90s and giving rise to a similar "unlucky" myth since they always seemed to lose in day games.

As most teams have trended towards even more hideous and useless "alternative" gear in the past decade, the Phillies have shown remarkable restraint. I have been proud to say that my team isn't willing to mess with its successful uniform aesthetics just to make another quick buck from the fans. The new design, while not terrible, is kind of a letdown--not that dressing like their quite mediocre ancestors (Phillies 1946-1949 record: 278-338) should inspire much confidence in the first place. The paranoia surrounding the blue caps also brings to mind the much-maligned interleague caps--the ones with a blue brim and a small blue star superimposed on the "P"--that have produced an 86-98 record since 1997.

My theory is that the last uniform redesign in 1993 was the correct one, and any changes made to that formula only ruin the obvious good karma earned from emulating the Phillies teams of the 1950s and 1960s, perhaps the only era in team history characterized by overall competence punctuated by brief periods of complete futility (and not the other way around, as per Phillies tradition). And before anyone points out that the maroon-clad Phils won 6 division titles, 2 pennants, and the franchise's only championship, keep in mind that particular 8-season run was bracketed by major struggles both athletic and aesthetic.

For providing a temporary scapegoat for the post-1993 hangover (before we all came to the brutal realization of how flukey that team was), I fondly recall the "cursed" blue caps.

Fear and Self-Loathing In the Blogosphere

End-of-season awards almost always inspire debate, most of it useless. When faced with many viable candidates, it's human nature to think about what seems most recent or, perhaps, the image with the most mental repetition. That's why you don't generally see the Academy honoring films that were released in February come Oscar time. And, honestly, a truly egregious slight will follow the laws of karma, ultimately sullying the reputation of wrongfully feted.

(Let's all appreciate the continued sanity of Terry Pendleton, please. If I had to hear about how I was a non-deserving scrub at the end of every season, I'd snap like Dewey Cox flipping over the car in the Walk Hard trailer.)

Well, in the 72 hours since Jimmy Rollins won the '07 National League MVP award it seems like everything is spiraling out of control. Daily News columnist Bill Conlin (a dead ringer for Peter Griffin) started what seemed like the familiar print journalist v. blogger flame war: old journalist insults sabermetrics, sensitive bloggers accuse journalist of being crotchety and inaccurate, journalist fires back by citing "professional" credentials, bloggers act smarmy, life goes on.

Conlin, however, has taken the usual objective-versus-subjective scrum to new, disturbing heights by basically proposing that we need a Gestapo to "regulate" free speech on the Internet. His comments directed at the folks at Crashburn Alley are a weird kind of scary, like an online commenter emerging from the basement and chatting with Michael Barkann every evening. (Full, concise summary of the ongoing incident at Deadspin)

I've never been a Conlin fan and I'm not about to come down on his side here. But I don't think I can heartily endorse what Crashburn Alley is doing, either. Conlin's original swipes at the statistical analysis crowd are hardly anything we haven't seen before. I guess I would expect Fire Joe Morgan to give him the smackdown, but it made me uncomfortable to see a growing J-Roll MVP backlash. And as measured and objective as Crashburn's critique of the NL MVP race is, it also hints at something Phillies fans have always had in abundance: self-loathing.

It's hard to point fingers and complain and say "Why can't they just let us have something?" when your own fans aren't even on the J-Roll party bus. Fandom doesn't mean that when you see the colors you must always smile and obey. In Philly, it often means the exact opposite. But sometimes I think we question too much, to the point that our team's legacy and our own sense of pride as fans begins to suffer. We all get pissed off at pitching changes, roster moves, baserunning gaffes, whatever. But when we start raising doubts when one of our most popular and talented players is named MVP, compiling exhaustive bodies of statistical evidence (for a division rival, no less), then we really need to re-examine what we're rooting for in the first place. With Ryan Howard last year and J-Roll this year, we've earned the right to be a little happy--it's our own damn fault that we're too guilty about shedding our miserable, born-loser identity to accept it.

Finally, in J-Roll's defense:
- He makes more outs because he's a leadoff man. I'll admit his OBP is too low for comfort, but 30 HRs eases the pain a bit, plus leading the freaking league in runs shows that he's still getting the job done even if he doesn't have the eye of Kevin Youkilis.

- Crashburn Alley uses the fantastic Wins Above Replacement Player stat as part of its case, where David Wright has a 1.2 WARP advantage over Jimmy. That's great, but you really have to look at WARP in context. What does it matter when Wright is worth 1.2 wins more than Jimmy while Wright's team is 1 win worse than Jimmy's? This is why FJM can talk about Hanley Ramirez all they want and why I can continue thinking that he's basically the star point guard on the Washington Generals. Which brings me to my next point...

- It's not the "Player Who Had the Best Statistical Year" Award. It's a "Most Valuable Player" Award. Arguments like "Jimmy was a top ten player, but technically not the best player" remind me of when we were all wringing our hands over whether or not A-Rod should be MVP on a below-average Texas Rangers team. Unless the guy is an absolute hammerhead in a school of guppies, I don't see how you can justify snubbing a player from a successful team. Playing well while there are actual stakes involved magnifies and raises a player's value to his team, period.

So why still not Wright instead of Jimmy? It goes back to the post that immediately precedes this one. I like that "Most Valuable" is open to interpretation, my own interpretation being that both men were the respective emotional leaders of their teams, both had good stats when it mattered the most late in the season, both were Gold Glove-caliber defenders and Silver Slugger-caliber hitters----and Jimmy's team beat Wright's. It's that simple.

Sabermetrics are a neat, fascinating, and useful tool--but it's still the basis of a cult that won't tolerate any opinion but their own, just like the crotchety old print journalists. I won't blame the sabermetricians for defending themselves from the ludicrous number of ad hominem
attacks launched their way. But I won't support them unconditionally just because I'm young, irreverent, a blogger, or any combination of the above.

Ain't No Party Like An MVP Party

'Cause in Philly the MVP party don't stop: J-Roll makes it two in a row for the Phillies.

Mr. Team to Beat definitely deserved this award, not just for his offense or defense but for giving the Phils something they haven't had in well over a decade: a true emotional leader. There are shades here of the part in You Can't Lose 'Em All! when Pete Rose arrives in Philly and basically tells everyone regardless of their stats or contract to put up or shut up. Likewise, I think Jimmy knew that he had to scare everyone brainless and call out the Mets months before the season--he's so respected that the Phils didn't want to look stupid if they fell short of J-Roll's expectations.

I know that's mighty anecdotal and intangible-y to submit as MVP credentials. Screw it. I'm not going to be all elitist and (still) butt-hurt over Albert Pujols like Rob Neyer (ESPN Insider alert...oddly fitting). Sabermetric ratios and park-adjusted HRs and weird defensive stats and whatnot are a big part of what makes a great player, but it's not the only part, Robbie.

Really, Jimmy is "not a good defensive shortstop and didn't deserve his Gold Glove"? MVP IN YO FACE! And who's not a good defensive NL shortstop these days? That's like saying Prince sucks because Bob Dylan is from Minnesota too.

The Philly fan in me must also point out that although three of our guys finished in the top eight in MVP voting, they were still bounced from the playoffs rather quickly. This year's division title was a nice respite from all those years of disappointment but the franchise as a whole is still underachieving. Meanwhile, the consummate overachiever, Aaron Rowand, makes a cameo on the final voting tally as well. Hey, he's a lot more plausible as ballot-filler than some of the other guys on the list (Brandon Phillips? Carlos Marmol?).

This kind of makes me more relieved about the Phillies' cold-stove offseason thus far. Though could you imagine Mike Lowell at third? I'd forgive him for being a former Teal Bastard, unless they had to start charging for ketchup or something to honor that $50 million contract. C'mon Gillick! You're not fooling anyone. You might as well blow that money on somebody. Mark Prior perhaps?

And Chase--you've got your work cut out for you in '08. Congrats Jimmy!

Philling In: Write A Mascot Backstory!

The unfortunately/totally awesomely-named Lehigh Valley IronPigs unveiled their mascot yesterday. It's a little disappointing for me, as they went with the "friendly anthropomorphic animal" design instead of being consistent with their gruesome logo design and making a costume sure to give children the heebies.

The mascot's first videotaped appearance gives the impression that somebody was thinking of Charlie Manuel when they designed the thing's physique. Still moves pretty well for a fat guy, though. And, as awkwardly explained by the IronPigs PR rep in the video, the pig's name is still up in the air. It's up to you to determine whether "Jack Bauer" or "Fatty Porker" or something of that ilk will be plastered all over future IronPigs merch.

It's too bad that they won't let the fans also come up with the mascot's backstory. This is the best that a company that designs mascots professionally could offer:

According to the unnamed porker's ''biography,'' he was born in a steel mill but ''never felt he fit in with other pigs'' and was found by a Seiple Farms employee ''wandering on Route 22 searching for a place to play baseball.''

That's pretty nonsensical, even for a mascot. There are so many unanswered questions here. Is the pig organic, or was it smelted from scratch? Why the hell does it want to play baseball? Why not turn it into some sort of inspiring, RoboCop-esque story of horrible disfigurement, technological redemption, and revenge gained from dancing to the Black-Eyed Peas between innings?

And for the record, I've already submitted the name "Rivety McFerrum," so no copying.

- The Phils have collected a good deal of postseason hardware in the past couple weeks. Gold Gloves were given to the long-deserving Jimmy Rollins and the somewhat puzzling choice of Aaron Rowand (in a tie, apparently; at least it didn't go to Eric Byrnes). Jimmy also picked up a Silver Slugger along with Chase Utley, who has quickly developed a chokehold on offensive excellence among second basemen.

The big prize, of course--Rollins for MVP--is still up in the air and will likely determine the volume of posts here in the near future.

- Hey! Kyle Kendrick got 7 ROY votes! Cole Hamels also managed a sixth-place finish in the NL Cy Young voting, and probably would have been top three if not for his late-season injury (and if not for being kind of a jerk). Also, apocalypse was averted when Uncle Charlie finished second to Bob Melvin for NL Manager of the Year.

- I don't like what's coming out of the Gillick camp regarding the third base and centerfield situations. I can understand the desire to pursue pitching (considering Adam Eaton was the worst starter in the NL last year), but the offseason crop of available guys seems like a bunch of No. 3s at best. I guess we'll have to be happy with a 3B platoon. But another potential platoon at a key defensive position is really going to put a squeeze on the bench, especially since they still haven't tracked down Pat Burrell's defensive replacement yet. And what about a backup catcher?

Keep an eye on that Mariners roster, Phils fans. Names like Jeremy Reed or Jamie Burke might become more familiar very, very soon.

Trade Winds: Brad Lidge

The Phils nabbed Brad Lidge from the Astros today, proving that Ed Wade will always haunt this franchise. It's not a bad acquisition in theory, given how Lidge has kinda sorta bounced back from his Pujols-induced nightmares in the 2005 NLCS. The bullpen definitely needed an upgrade, and I'm even thinking Brett Myers could be getting another crack at the rotation, as somehow Gillick failed to pursue all the over-40 SP free agents out there.

But as admirable as the GM's restraint was in terms of sign-and-pray old fogies, what the Phillies gave up in this Lidge deal doesn't make a lot of sense:

- Geoff Geary: hands down the best part of the deal; a change of scenery might rejuvenate him, but I don't think he was ever going to return to form in Philly

- Michael Bourn: people knew that the Phillies had some outfield assets, but I always thought Bourn was the least likely to be traded since, you know, Aaron Rowand is technically a free agent and the Phils would have no other centerfielder?

And wasn't there a general consensus that Rowand was playing way over his head this past season? The Gold Glove and career-high offensive stats were nice, but doesn't this pretty much send the signal that the Phillies are banking on re-signing him? Very shrewd, Mr. Gillick, very shrewd indeed. Enjoy your money, Aaron; you earned it this past year at least.

- Michael Costanzo: when I woke up this morning, the first thing I thought was, "Gee, I really hope my favorite baseball team trades its best offensive prospect at its weakest infield position for a white Abe Nunez that specializes at a position occupied by a legit MVP candidate"; man, I'm so glad Costanzo's lame-ass AA stats (.270, 27 HR, 86 RBI) are gone now.

On a scale of 1 to 10, I give this trade a Ron Gant.

My Kingdom for a Watchable World Series

Though I feel it is incredibly redundant and pedantic to have to say so, here it is: I really, really love baseball. I love the regular season and the love the playoffs. I love what the World Series represents, the culmination of seven months' hard work in one transcendent moment that puts you in the company of a century's worth of the elite in your profession. They're not letting over a third of the league's clubs get the same opportunity to vie for a championship. Success is earned and the accolades are discriminating--more or less.

So why, for the past 5 seasons, has the World Series kind of...ahem...sucked? Boston's four-game sweep of Colorado continues a string of Fall Classics that have been less than stellar from a competitive standpoint. If you haven't been a fan of one of the two league champions in recent years, there's been little to sustain your interest after mid-October.

2006 brought us arguably the biggest championship fluke of all time, St. Louis still managing to garner their requisite media fawning and somehow avoiding the ridiculous "Team .500" scorn heaped upon the Padres only a year earlier (this despite the 2006 Cards winning only ONE more game than the 2005 Pads; goddammit I hate the Cardinals more than any non-Cubs fan in the world).

2005 and 2004 were interesting in their parallel "teams named after the color of their stockings finally win a championship again" storylines, but the actual games left much to be desired. Both Sox completed decisive four-game sweeps over vastly inferior teams, and the world was subjected to the opining of intellectual titans like Johnny Damon and Ozzie Guillen for years thereafter.

2003 also left a weird taste in everyone's mouth, even though the baseball was decent, for a couple reasons. First, the Teal Bastards had won their second World Series in ten years of existence. Second, they did it at Yankee Stadium, which had all the natural warmth and vitality of a mausoleum after the final out simply because the AL had won the All-Star Game that year, the first year that WS home-field advantage was up for grabs (it would have been the NL's turn on the discarded and equally stupid rotation system). Thirdly, these being the Teal Bastards, everybody knew that this team would be dismantled almost immediately and wouldn't be relevant for another six years; not to mention they still had terrible attendance that year. Kind of puts a damper on any excitement.

So what we have from 2004 to 2007 is four consecutive World Series that lasted for less than six games, which could have very well been four consecutive sweeps if not for a little "dirt" on the palm and gamesmanship in the mind of Kenny Rogers in '06. The first and last time this occurred in Series history was from 1913 to 1916, and only one of those years (1914) saw a sweep. I'm not saying that the Series hasn't had some great moments in recent years, or that the system is incapable of producing an worthy champion (unless you are the '06 Cardinals). I'm saying that from the perspective of the unemotionally invested baseball fan, the competition in the World Series is far from world-class. And I can think of a few reasons why:

Expansion: It honestly does dilute the talent pool. There are enough major league-caliber players out there to stock eight potential championship rosters--they just wind up on twenty-five different teams. This really affects "role players" the most, the ones with specialized skills. Case in point: good leadoff men were already scarce, but it's hard to imagine a pre-1993 World Series roster platooning the equivalents of Willy Tavaras and Kaz Matsui in the top spot.

The Specialization of the Bullpen: A comeback is perhaps the most exhilarating thing to see in pro sports. So how come it seems impossible to do in the World Series, both the in short and long term? The continuing delineation of bullpen roles and the increasing amount of downtime in the playoffs is a likely culprit. Teams can take their 5 or 6 best relief arms, perhaps bolstering it with a extra starter (thus bumping off their most ineffective remaining reliever); if they've got a decent closer, set-up man, and situational lefty (a la the '07 Red Sox), you've just made it a six-inning game.

The Red Sox-Yankees Cold War: Even Bill Simmons agrees that the acceleration of the fiscal game of chicken between Boston and New York is approaching ludicrous speed. In a way, both MLB and the media have created a self-fulfilling prophecy by hyping this feud so much that a Series without either is looked at as a failure before the first pitch. I really feel for Blue Jays fans here. They're like the normal fifth roommate in an apartment with two hopeless stoners and two passive-aggressive Rhodes scholars.

As I see it, the last time we had a World Series with all the key elements of fantastic sports drama was 2002. The Angels-Giants series had it all: two teams with a good (but not overwhelming) amount of historical baggage, rising and established stars, comebacks, bullpen meltdowns, Barry Bonds back when we hated him just for being a jerk, two articulate managers that weren't buffoons or cartoon characters or just completely insufferable, unlikely heroes, no pinstripes or shamrocks or red-hued birds in sight, and a full seven games for cryin' out loud!

The regular season has always mattered to me. The league playoffs--especially the ALCS--have been downright breathtaking in recent years. And, in 2002, I finally fell in love with the World Series again, a feeling I hadn't experienced since briefly before Mitch Williams pitched a star-crossed fastball to Joe Carter in 1993. I'm just wondering when the World Series is going to love me back.

What To Do While You're Waiting

The period from the beginning of October to the beginning of March is traditionally a long, lonely stretch for the Baker Bowl. The Phils managed to make this Dead Zone a little more lively for the briefest of moments before making the hot stove watch priority numero uno (the prognosis so far: depressing, with the all-but-inevitable loss of Tad Iguchi and the team's desire to "remain in talks with" Antonio Alfonseca).

So what's a Philly misanthrope to do after a thrilling run to a division title was thwarted by a drive-by shooting in the NLDS? Well, how else do you mend the emotional damage of a long-term relationship gone sour? You look for a solid rebound candidate, weighing the odds of developing true feelings against the possibility of short-term benefits. Let's look at the potential suitors:

Philadelphia Eagles (2-4, last place in the NFC East)
The Good: The Iggles have roster that's a great balance between likable players and built-in excuses if things go sour, which they are (i.e. Dawkins is hurt, no deep threat in the receiving corps, etc.). And in the wacky world of the NFL--they call it "parity," I call it "mediocrity"--there will always be plenty of excitement; even this team could finish 9-7 if they get enough breaks.

The Bad: "Excitement" is too often just code for "drama." The ups and downs can be too much to handle for a fanbase that desperately needs some calm waters. The Eagles were once much more attractive but age and adversity have clearly taken their toll. Your original mental image of them, culled from preseason magazines and websites, is often spoiled by seeing them in person.

Odds of Disaster: 6 to 1...expectations have already lowered considerably, but it's generally bad practice to go after the fast and loose girl immediately after the tease.

Philadelphia Flyers (7-3-0, first place in Atlantic division)
The Good: The ugliest duckling a year ago has transformed into a beautiful swan--for now. The Flyers are famous for being able to retool quickly and maintain their historically high level of success, last season one of their rare misfires. Perhaps the only Philly sports franchise with a consistently competent ownership, front office, and coaching staff (though the coach's influence tends to be very weak in the NHL).

The Bad: The Flyers are also notorious for playoff flame-outs and perhaps more heart-wrenching "right there" moments in the past decade than the other three major franchises combined. The standings also indicate that they simply have the jump on a slow-starting division and not quite in the NHL elite just yet. Plus, the whole dilemma of explaining to your friends why you suddenly starting watching hockey like it was the new season of LOST.

Odds of Disaster: 2 to 1...like Han Solo in the Death Star trash compacter, I've got a bad feeling about this; a stunning makeover doesn't guarantee that this kinda-sorta-legitimately good team won't subject its fans to the same old disappointments.

Philadelphia 76ers (2-5 in the preseason, majority pick to finish last in division and conference)
The Good: The Sixers showed signs of life late last season, remaining in playoff contention (albeit in an abysmal conference) until their final few games. They are basically a Richard Jefferson away from being the New Jersey Nets, whom most NBA pundits regard as a potentially frisky team. A core of mostly young and improving talent surrounds Andre Iguodala, one of the most exciting players in the game. They brought back red unis. And yet expectations remain even lower for the 76ers than for Temple football.

The Bad: There's a reason why they've been picked to finish last by just about everyone. It will be painful to watch the Sixers struggle in a division where each team remains superior or has improved more than them (except maybe the Knicks, who for some reason are garnering mainstream goodwill for making a ton of random panic moves). The marketing department's mildly-inspiring slogan this year is "Not Everything Shows Up on the Stat Sheet" which translates to "this team will be fun to watch when Korver's lighting up the perimeter and Iggy's posterizing random dudes, but they're still going to lose...a lot."

Odds of Disaster: 12 to 1...ultimately, the Sixers are just eager to please and bring fans back into the fold in the post-A.I. era; it's not necessarily an easy commitment but definitely the safest one, as they will most likely be endearing and appealing even though they don't expect to receive much in return.

And I'll never truly deny that there is a J.D. Durbin-shaped void in my heart. But until spring training, Phillies, we're officially on a break. I just wish I knew how to quit you.

Wow, That Was Unexpected

Looks like we'll be remembering Paul Byrd for something else as well.

Do I have my finger on the pulse of this game or what?

Do You Recall...Paul Byrd?

Don't let the Cleveland Indians' youth movement fool you. True, after turning in a mediocre, disappointing season last year, the Tribe finally look like it has made the leap from good to great (give or take a Joe Borowski), with much of its young offensive talent fulfilling their potential. But apart from Fausto Carmona, the key cogs of the Indians' rotation are surprisingly (or, given their success, perhaps not so surprisingly) seasoned. C.C. Sabathia is only 26 years old but also is in his seventh major league season. Jake Westbrook and Cliff Lee are several seasons removed from being called "phenoms." And few men embody the phrase "seasoned veteran" like the guy the Indians put on the mound for Game 4 of the ALCS.

Now, the acquisition and re-signing of Jamie Moyer has enlightened the Phillies on the value of pitching "smart" and trusting the defense as opposed to simply trying to overpower every single batter. But do you recall a wily Phillies hurler of another not-too-long-ago era? But you recall the man now pitching in the playoffs for Cleveland? Do you recall...Paul Byrd?


Claimed by the Phillies off waivers from those Atlanta Braves in August 1998, Byrd impressed immediately. He pitched a 9-inning shutout in his first Phillies start and followed that up with another complete game five days later. Shades of the great Carlton Loewer, perhaps? I would venture a guess that his Phillies career line looks somewhat similar:

Paul Byrd Phillies Statistics (1998-2001): 56 starts, 22-23 record, 347 2/3 IP, 4.79 ERA, 1.35 WHIP, 200 K, 126 BB

In a tease reminiscent of the Matrix trilogy, Byrd continued to pitch out of his mind for the first half of the 1999 season, which earned him and his forehead the right to represent the Phillies in his first--and to date, only--All-Star Game. So, just for the record, that's Paul Byrd All-Star Appearances: 1, Pat Burrell All-Star Appearances: 0.

Unfortunately, a second-half implosion (a 5.65 ERA over 12 games) ensured that most Philly fans would remember him mostly for his striking resemblance to Dr. Frasier Crane and his bizarre feud with the Braves' Eddie Perez, the personal catcher for Greg Maddux for several of his seasons in Atlanta. The dispute had to do with alleged beanballs, and I recall vehemently arguing with Braves fans that the Byrdman needed to establish his inside pitch to be effective. The patent ridiculousness of this argument would not be replicated until Roger Clemens tried to convince people that he though a 6-inch-long plank of wood was a baseball which needed to be thrown in front of Mike Piazza.

As is turns out, only a trade to Kansas City (where expectations go to die) could make Byrd effective again. This miraculously occurred early in the 2001 season, and Paulie responded to the change in environment by posting his first legit sub-4.00 ERA and winning 17 games. For anybody who doesn't put much stock in pitchers' wins, remember...these were the MF'ing Royals. And while he has never regained the form of those magical first 6 months in Philadelphia, he has steadily improved as he aged into his late 30s. He's been a stellar back-of-the-rotation guy for 3 clubs in the last 4 seasons--all of which have made the playoffs with him on the roster.

Hmm...maybe the Phils can sign him back before once he hits 40?

For his skill set that continues to improve seemingly out of spite and against all rational explanation, I fondly recall Paul "Kelsey Grammar" Byrd.

Charlie's Back

It's official: two more years of Goodtime Charlie. He kind of deserves it, I guess.

What is it about this guy that always seems to elicit equivocal responses? Perhaps it's because he's able to successfully mix a Danny Ozark doofusness with a George W. Bush calm and constancy in what's arguably America's most chaotic sports city. We want to see him get fired up, but we also like the way he handles his players--the way they seem to respond to his grandfatherly attention (Exhibit A: Pat Burrell). We acknowledge how he's willing to take the heat from the media to protect his players, but we can't stand it when his loyalty clouds his ability to judge an individual's endurance level.

Whatever. Apparently the wins are piling up under his watch (over 260 in just 3 seasons) and he's nowhere near as crazy as Jim Tracy.

And for those keeping score at home, Charlie's new contract lasts one year longer than Gillick's now, meaning that even if the Phils stink next year, Gillick will probably wait for somebody else to fire him.

Now let's get on with making "We're gonna win" the 2008 Phillies slogan right now.

It's Always Gloomy In Philadelphia

The faces tell the story of the Phils' NLDS collapse against the Rockies, but the numbers don't do a bad job, either:

26 strikeouts in three games. A .172 team batting average. A 5.54 team ERA. 7 runs allowed by the bullpen (plus the 3 charged to Kyle Kendrick that are partially Kyle Lohse's fault). The Phils' weaknesses were exposed--in embarrassing fashion--in front of a national audience. The only consolation is that now the entire organization knows what it has to fix (let's begin the shortlist with the 'pen and the offense's ineffectiveness against lefty pitching. I mean, Mark Redman? Come on!).

Watching this series was like watching Peter O'Toole lose an Academy Award to Orlando Bloom. For an old franchise with a sprawling hard-luck history punctuated by occasional excellence, it's upsetting to watch the young, super-hyped media darlings clinch a seemingly undeserving series win. But I give credit to the Rockies. In a year where four Divisional Series sweeps are a distinct possibility, the Rox are the only team to do it without playing the first two games at their home park (though, arguably, the conditions at CBP do a good job of simulating those at Coors). I certainly find them more legitimate than the D-Backs, whose smoke-and-mirrors bullpen and lack of offensive consistency will have to catch up with them in a seven-game series.

The second-inning stadium blackout in Game 3 was an apt metaphor of the way the Phillies simply wilted under the bright lights and high pressure of the playoffs. It's hard to believe how quickly the giddy euphoria of one week can turn into abject failure and despondency. Lest we forget, in October, the darkness starts falling faster.

There will be plenty to occupy Phillies fans in the coming months--the uncertain futures of Uncle Charlie and Aaron Rowand, the looming contract of Ryan Howard, the imminent buyout of Rod Barajas, etc. The front office has a lot of work to do this winter to ensure that this nucleus that is reaching its peak can build upon this spectacular run to the division title and deliver even more.

The Baker Bowl hates to see the season end this way. We hate to see some of these guys leave the Phillies like this (though we might express some restrained joy for the departure of others). And most of all, we're weary from the bipolar highs and lows that were the 2007 Philadelphia Phillies.

But come next spring, hopes will rise again. The grass will be freshly clipped and the beer freshly tapped for the thousands of red-shirted maniacs ready to see our guys give it another try. We'll be there with them--like always.

Phillies Shell-Shocked by the Rox

This wasn't how things were supposed to happen.

When an irresistable force meets an immovable object, something has to give. But who among us thought it would be Yorvit Torrealba and Kaz Matsui giving the Phils fits? The Phillie Killer Theory strikes again.

And mere days after it looked like his team's improbable comeback saved his job, Uncle Charlie might be on the hot seat once again. A little background: I had the GameCast on at work but had to leave just as the Rockies had two men on in the fourth with two outs and the pitcher's spot coming up. This half inning, I thought, was in the bag. The Phils were actually leading--thanks to J-Roll, who apparently is the only Phillie who realized that despite the public response, it's still just a playoff berth and not a championship yet. Kyle Kendrick had gotten into a few jams but got out of most of them with minimal damage.

Enter Charlie Manuel. Exit Kyle Kendrick. Enter Kyle Lohse--the prospective Game 4 starter, even with a fresh Clay Condrey in the 'pen.

I totally understood not using Alfonseca or Mesa in this situation, and was prepared to give Charlie credit for it. This was until I realized that the Lohse move started an inevitable chain of events that allowed Mesa to come in later and put the game completely out of reach.

A lapse in judgment? A "senior moment"? A logical decision ruined by rotten luck? It doesn't matter. This could be the playoff moment that traumatizes another generation of fans. Come New Year's Day 2027, there's going to be a spate of Mummers' Parade revelers wailing, "Lohse for Kendrick? Why?" before passing out on the pool table at their favorite Old Town bar.

As for me, my senses are dulled. I never got the feeling that the Phils were going to get to Jeff Francis in Game 1, especially as they were pressing to get rid of those playoff butterflies. But Innings 4-5, Game 2 was like a Howitzer shell exploding in the middle of a tai chi class.

And now, with the series moving to the Rockies' home turf, so many of the Phaithful have that same thousand-yard stare we saw on Mets fans less than a week ago. Here we were, passionately and vocally supporting our team as they surged to an unlikely division title, poised to be media darlings in the playoffs. But it seems the Team to Beat has collided head-on with the Team of Destiny, an even bigger underdog in a nation that loves the underdog. Funny, though, that the Rockies played their inaugural season in the same year that the Phillies last made the playoffs. And it's easier to come out of nowhere in a wide-open division than to struggle under towering expectations all year and then receive relatively little credit once your stated goal is reached.

The Phils are fun, but they were "supposed" to be here. The Rox are out of left field--and they wear purple! How telegenic, much more than those crass, boorish Philadelphians back to their old tricks: booing, cussing, and casting cynical aspersions against the world in general.

It's not over yet, but the end of the tunnel is drawing ever closer. We've been ambushed, folks. Sometimes life just isn't fair.

But hey--at least the Flyers won their home opener.

Philling In: We Don't Get No Respect

Hey! The Phillies won a division championship! Did you hear about it?

Word on the street is that the Mets also blew a huge lead in the last three weeks of the season. Maybe you heard about that instead?

Homeboy Jayson Stark (who, in terms of ESPN employees, is to the Phillies what Buster Olney is to the Yankees...a blatant homer) seems to be the only journalist with a national profile giving credit where credit is due.

The story of the Phils' comeback isn't quite worthy of all the "Top 10 Greatest Chokes" columns that the Mets are getting--no, it deserves its own documentary miniseries narrated by Morgan Freeman. You want drama? Try 500-1 odds of making the postseason (and a plethora of other crazy stuff that happened this season; this guy just beat me to the bunch on the list) on September 12. Makes me wish I had a bookie.

And to add insult to injury, the scheduled start times for the first four Rockies-Phillies NLDS games are pretty horrible for almost every market. Those 3 PM weekday games are particularly unconscionable, considering the problems with shadows (as alluded to by Aaron Rowand last week) and the fact that it's freakin' NOON on the West Coast. Thank goodness for the Internet.

- NLDS Mini-Preview: The Rockies-Phillies matchup is very intriguing, not least of all because it features two playoff-hungry franchises that ended the season on a major roll. Both are teams with stellar talent that can mash the ball and run the bases. Both have suspect bullpens. Both play in offensive paradises.

That's where the similarities end, though. The Rox have similar defensive strength in the middle infield, but the Phils' outfielders and defensive substitutes are far superior (even factoring in the Burrell Effect). The Phillies bench is downright scary and could be the best of any NL playoff team. And the rotations don't match up at all. Jeff Francis is an ace, but behind him...yikes. The Rockies aren't even disclosing their matchups yet--kind of expected when anybody from Mark Redman to Elmer Dessens to Ubaldo Jimenez could be leading you into battle. Prediction: Phillies in 4

The Cubs-Diamondbacks series is tougher to call, simply because I have no idea how Arizona is doing it. They've been outscored by a bajillion runs. They have an everyday lineup of Eric Byrnes and seven kids still struggling to grow mustaches. They can hit the long ball but have extremely poor plate discipline. These are your NL West Champions? (Sidebar: how insane is it that a franchise that's only existed for 10 seasons has already made the playoffs 4 times? And people wonder why this means so much to Philly...)

The Cubs, on the other hand, are a stealthily good team. Their biggest second-half meltdowns were almost all against bad teams in a very Phillies-esque manner of playing down to the competition. Chicago's got pitching that looks as good as any other NL contender's and several underrated offensive superstars (Soriano, A. Ramirez, D. Lee). What's Arizona got? Brandon Webb and a retractable roof? Prediction: Cubs in 5

- The 25-man roster is set! This is the kind of thing you always heard about playoff teams doing but just never got to experience for yourself (man, it's been a long time).

Of course, the 24 Million Dollar Man is conspicuously absent. The Padres are still laughing at us, I think. I'm upset that J.D. Durbin is missing too. It makes sense in a 5-game series to only carry 10 pitchers, especially with a maybe-injured catcher and the Phils' stellar corps of pinch-hitters, but could the Real Deal really be any worse than Jose Mesa? We might rue this decision someday.

- My sister postulated an interesting theory recently:

"The Phillies make the playoffs in 1993.
Mike Lieberthal joins the Phils roster in 1994.
The Phillies do not make the playoffs from 1994 to 2006.
Mike Lieberthal signs with the Dodgers after the 2006 season.
The Phillies make the playoffs in 2007."

Spooky!

- Conan O'Brien is a beautiful man:



- The first playoff game in Philadelphia in 14 years is tomorrow! Tonight will be like the night before Christmas and the last meal before execution all rolled up into one. I don't know whether to cheer or cry.

Go Phils!

Celebrating the Division Championship

A champagne celebration...in photo montage:

Go Crazy, Philly, Go Crazy

"I think we are the team to beat in the NL East--finally." -- Jimmy Rollins, January 23, 2007

Your 2007 NL East Champions: the Philadelphia Phillies!

This Is It

Strangers from distant lands, friends of old you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Omar Minaya and Fred Wilpon. The NL East stands upon the brink of destruction, none can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom.

Bring forth the lineup, Frodo Uncle Charlie. The time has come for a hobbit to shape the fortunes of all.

Let's go Phils!

Philling In: First Place!

Just minutes ago, the Phils put the finishing touches on a 6-4 victory over the Braves (and by "finishing touches" I mean Brett Myers allowed a home run in the top of the ninth). Coupled with the Mets' loss, the current NL East standings look something like this:

New York Mets: 87-72
Philadelphia Phillies: 87-72

In true Philadelphia fashion, the level of the opposition has finally come down to meet the consistent slightly-past-mediocre performance of the hometown team. The Phillies haven't been in first place or in a tie for first place this late in the season since 1993. (As an aside, how much have we suffered when the answer to nearly every recent-playoffs-related Phillies trivia question is "1993"?) Hell, they haven't even been in first place in September since 2001. Keep it up, guys. We might not need the wild card after all.

I knew the Cardinals were good for something.

- Should this stalemate persist, there are about a million Rashomon-like tie-braking scenarios. The most important thing about this is that the Rockies will have the home field advantage in nearly every scenario since they've recently channeled the spirit of the 2002 A's during a convenient stretch of games against their division rivals.

How much do you think Ryan Howard and Co. would love to see that, should it come to a one-game playoff? This team is built for Coors Field--they slug the ball and playing on the road doesn't seem any different than playing at home to them. I refuse to believe that everything is actually lining up this way. I just can't believe it.

- Speaking of Howard, he's now the proud owner of the single-season strikeout record, now set at 197 punchouts. I like how it combines the excitement of Cal Ripken's consecutive game streak (where he could break his own record every day) and the white-elephantness of Reggie Sanders.

I actually like the direction this record is taking. Long gone are the days when Jose Hernandez challenged Bobby Bonds's place in baseball history. It's more like a bad-but-good record now, like how Cy Young's record number of losses attested more to his longevity than to any failings of his talent. Today's prolific whiffers actually contribute a lot of value--Howard eclipsed Adam Dunn's mark of 195. Those are two guys that just about any GM would have.

- The Chase Utley Plunk-O-Meter is now up to 24; the Phillies have collected an NL-high 85 HBP. I was told that Comcast SportsNet ran a "Chase Utley hit-by-pitch montage" during a recent Phils game. The man is earning every cent of his paycheck.

- What's most amazing to me about this particular late-season surge is that it's occurring during a very awkward time for the franchise. Aaron Rowand has one foot out the door. Uncle Charlie hasn't received an extension and isn't likely to get one unless the Phillies make noise in the playoffs. And Pat Gillick announced he'll play out the string until 2008 and then ride off into the sunset (presumably near Toronto, Seattle, or Chicago). Perhaps it's this atmosphere of impending transition that is finally providing that sense of urgency lacking from the past six seasons.

Stick around--things are about to get interesting.

The Durbin Hypothesis

About a month ago, I really went out on a limb to profess my completely hetero-normal adoration of J.D. Durbin, everybody's nobody's favorite Phillies mop-up artist. I'm revisiting the subject because now I have conclusive evidence of a rather strange phenomenon taking effect as the Phils gallop to the end of another hard-fought pennant race.

During the past week and a half, the Phillies have won 9 of their last 11 games, swept the Mets, and inched ever so closer to clinching their first playoff appearance since Will Smith was still known as the Fresh Prince. The September stretch run has included a lot of unlikely heroes (Rod Barajas!) and grind-it-out gumption in several games that the Phils had no business winning.

But the most unlikely September hero just might be Mr. Durbin. At any given time, it seems like his presence tips the scales of luck squarely in the Phillies' favor. When the team sees him running in from the bullpen or out of the dugout, they have generally responded with a completely disproportionate effort that one would expect for a teammate who dubbed himself "the Real Deal" on his way to posting an ERA over 6.00.

And when the mysteries of the natural world have confounded mediocre minds, erudite men have always turned to science to arbitrate the boundaries of myth and fact:

The Hypothesis
If J.D. Durbin pitches in a meaningful game (against a main division or wild card rival or any game in the month of September), then the Phillies have an increased chance of achieving an improbable victory.

The Data
In September of 2007 alone, the Durbin Hypothesis has already confronted numerous test cases that indicate its veracity.

After a horrific start against Florida to begin the month, his next game against the Teal Bastards wasn't bad--an second inning marred by fielding errors was followed by a Phillies offensive surge in the third, an early indication of future September wonders. However, it was not enough to win this particular game; science cannot yet explain how Miguel Olivo hit two home runs in one game (from Abraham Nunez's concussor, no less; big Phillie Killer potential here).

Then in his last start to date--Sept. 13 against the Rockies--the wheels flew off in the first inning, with Durbin allowing 3 runs. Yet the Phillies responded with 4 runs of their own and didn't look back in a 12-4 romp over the hottest team in baseball at the moment. It was during this game that the Durbin Hypothesis began to coalesce in my mind, much like how Dr. Emmett Brown's tumble off his toilet allowed him to unlock the secrets of the Flux Capacitor.

And after moving back to the bullpen, Durbin's effectiveness as a holistic motivator has grown exponentially. He spelled Cole Hamels in an eventual 14-inning victory over the St. Louis Cardinals on the 18th (thanks to the aforementioned heroism of Barajas) and mopped up after Kyle Lohse in a 5-run late-game comeback against the Nationals this past Thursday. These are the facts, and they speak for themselves.

The Conclusion
J.D. Durbin is a terrible starting pitcher, a streaky reliever, and one hell of a good luck charm. If science has proven anything, it is that Durbin's presence as a boogeyman/magical baseball shaman could be the best shot the Phillies have at ending their playoff drought. If I were Charlie, I'd have one of my postseason roster spots already figured out.

Unbalanced Schedule My Ass

Remember how the unbalanced schedule was supposed to make the pennant races more exciting? An abundance of games, it was posited, against division rivals in the first and final months of the season would make the races more competitive (never mind the hometown fans who might want to see some of the other out-of-towners more than once a year).

The problems with this approach are manifold. What do you do with a division like the NL Central, where half the teams can barely tie their cleats, let alone defeat a decent baseball team? How do you deal with the mathematical hiccups that result from divisions that don't have the same number of teams as the others? And I don't even want to talk about the havoc that interleague play wreaks here.

MLB has really backed themselves into a corner here. If it wasn't for the invention of the Wild Card--which is what really makes most September games matter--I'm sure more people would be clamoring about this. As it stands, I'm going to make the non-researched claim that the unbalanced schedule has had a negligible effect on division races since its implementation. There are a few prominent exceptions (see: the 2006 AL Central), but they are just that--exceptions (plus, the Tigers made it to the Series with the Wild Card anyway).

Take a gander at the last two weeks of the schedule for the Phillies and their top three Wild Card rivals (excluding yesterday):

Philadelphia: 2 @ STL, 4 @ WSH, 3 vs. ATL, 3 vs. WSH

Los Angeles: 3 @ COL, 3 @ ARI, 3 vs. COL, 3 vs. SF

Colorado: 3 vs. LA, 3 @ SD, 3 @ LA, 3 vs. ARI

San Diego: 3 vs. PIT, 3 vs. COL, 3 @ SF, 4 @ MIL

One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong...

Admittedly, the Rockies have the toughest road ahead (but who outside of Denver believes in them anyway?), followed by the Dodgers. That's good news for the Phils, who also have a relatively easy schedule left--along with a history of playing down to their opponents. St. Louis is an enigma, and Atlanta is still in our heads after all these years. And those Nationals games, especially the ones on the road, are not gimmes (like, say, a game against the Giants). The Gnats have a fair chance at spoiling the Phils' season and if they do, their fans might have real evidence of the supposed D.C.-Philly "rivalry."

But getting to the point of all my bitching about schedules--none of this might not even matter. The Padres have seven games left against non-division opponents: one against a hopeless bottom-feeder and the other against a fading team whose weaknesses were apparent even back in June. They get to play their toughest series in that cow pasture they call "home field." And at a time when the races are supposed to get much more localized, the Pads don't even play the Dodgers!

This fact alone might be the worst news for the Phillies faithful, who have the right to be pissed when the concept of the unbalanced schedule isn't being adhered to properly. The luck of having your three main rivals all the same division isn't worth anything if you can't get them to beat up on each other. Having the NL East title still in reach is some consolation, but the schedule has ensured that the Phils are going to have to play near-flawless ball to make up even those slim 1.5 and/or 2.5 game margins.

Unbalanced schedule my ass.

Do You Recall...Tomas Perez?

For all the guff Pat Gillick has taken about his misfires on the 2007 Phillies starting rotation, he deserves credit for plucking the once-anonymous Greg Dobbs away from the Mariners at the beginning of the season. The Gregulator has been an able platoon man at third base and in the outfield, but he has shined this season as a pinch hitter and especially in "clutch" situations, where his numbers are far superior to his season totals (in an admittedly smaller sample size). With a pinch-hit grand slam that put the Mets away for good this afternoon, Dobbs and Jayson Werth (when Victorino is healthy) are creating the kind of lefty punch from the bench reminiscent of the days of Del Unser.

These bench weapons are a key element in the Phils' never-let-up offense, waiver-wire godsends for an historically weak area of the franchise. But do you recall a bench hero of the recent past? Do you recall...Tomas Perez?


In the year 2000, the faces of the Fightins were the often-dour pusses of Scott Rolen and Bobby Abreu, who were managed by an near-comatose Terry Francona. Imagine the system shock when Tomas Perez, the one-man Animal House, came walking into the clubhouse. Not surprisingly, it was presence (more so than his play) that would greatly influence the character of the club:

Tomas Perez Phillies Statistics: .249 AVG, .301 OBP, 20 HR, 128 RBI

After an April cup of coffee, Perez stuck with the Phillies for good in August 2000 as a utility infielder in the waning days of the Desi Relaford-Mickey Morandini dynasty. He was used primarily as a second baseman until the arrivals of Placido Polanco and Chase Utley, when his role changed to that of the main pinch-hitter off the bench.

The only flaw in this plan was that Tomas, a "glove man" defensive replacement (which is kind of a stretch in and of itself), wasn't quite up to the task. In 122 pinch-hit plate appearances between 2003-2005, he collected a total of 17 hits and 9 walks.

However, his bat was never truly a part of the Tomas Perez legend. In fact, his play on the field has little to do with his semi-notoriety. He is far more well-known in Phillies circles for his free-spirited approach to the game and his pranksterism. As far as the Phillies are concerned, Perez is the inventor of the post-game shaving cream facial and the progenitor of the "lovable loon" persona that Shane Victorino currently exhibits. (Notice, however, that Perez originally preferred the full-blown shaving cream pie, which requires a far greater craftsmanship than Victorino's hastily-constructed "Barbasol on a towel" mechanism.)

At some time during his Phillies tenure, Perez also acquired the half-disparaging nickname, "The Secret Weapon." This fad hit its peak in 2004, when he led the Phillies to two nonconsecutive walk-off wins (one of them a pinch-hit home run) which were both achieved off of Antonio Alfonseca in one of life's great (and yet somehow so fitting and cruel) ironies.

I always feel like Tomas tolerated this good-natured dig at his athletic abilities because he so often had the last laugh. Where else could he get to play a game he loved in front of people who loved him back, all the while making fun of stiffs like Travis Lee in Phillies promo commercials? His personality kind of subverts the whole point of these "DYR..." articles--nobody's going to groan when they remember his name.

More importantly, Perez's personality subverted much of the post-1994 strike culture of the Philadelphia franchise. He was something of a throwback to the days of Dykstra, Daulton, and the Krukker, and it seems a little more than coincidence to me that his arrival corresponded with a revival of the team's fortunes thanks to several "Phillies with flair." Tomas helped us appreciate a cut-up like Doug Glanville and readied us for the shock of a Ryan Howard--a star Phillie who actually looked like he enjoyed playing the game and appreciated the attention he received for it. Hell, even Chase Utley is doing goofy Tastykake advertisements now.

I like to think that it was the influence of Tomas and his exuberant ribbing of the tired, lame, and unstylish, in some small way, that allowed Jimmy Rollins to stick it to the Mets this spring in his infamous "team to beat" remark. Lo and behold, the Phillies have swept the Mets again, thanks in no small part to the undeniably cool J-Roll. Somewhere, Tomas Perez is grinning a mile wide.

For giving Phillies fans a reason to smile again, I fondly recall Tomas "The Secret Weapon" Perez.

Tomas Perez Statistics [Baseball Reference]

Chipper Jones Thinks Your Pitch Is Outside

I feel like I am an open-minded individual. I can accept that the baseball world is in a constant state of flux: circumstances change, attitudes are reformed, technology evolves. It comes as little surprise, then, that a sportswriter would fire this bottle rocket into the window of tradition:

TIME TO FIX BASEBALL'S MOST BASIC ELEMENT

Next week: can we really trust that the Sun is at the center of the solar system?

Anyway, Chipper Jones recently got all hot and bothered over balls and strikes in a game against the Phillies, throwing his support behind the notorious QuesTec laser targeting system. Dayn Perry is there to take this idea all the way down the rabbit hole.

However, on a larger level Jones is spot on: the quality of home-plate umpiring these days is simply not acceptable. As such, it's time for sweeping changes. Specifically, it's time — past time, actually — to automate the calling of balls and strikes.

Hasn't somebody already automated Chipper? I find it ironic that one of the few things that gets Larry the Affable Automaton into a lather is a robotic GPS system.

Here's the thing: the game of baseball, on a fundamental level, is about the strike zone. All of it — the home runs, the strikeouts, the bunt singles, the walks, the groundball double plays — flows from each hitter's and each pitcher's ability to command the strike zone.

Agreed.

When that zone is called inconsistently, it corrupts the competitive integrity of the game.

Yep.

That's what's happening now, and that's what's been happening for a long time in baseball.

Funny you should mention that...

To put a finer point on it, watch any major-league game and ask yourself whether, say, 25 percent of the ball-strike calls look incorrect after replay or imaging. Over the course of an entire game, it adds up, and that level of inaccuracy makes a mockery of the game.

A lot of things make "a mockery of the game." Phantom tags make a mockery of the game. Greaseballs make a mockery of the game. This sure as hell makes a mockery of the game.

But in regards to cheating, fudging, and bending the rules, well, this kind of stuff has been going on for a long time, and nobody really seems to have a problem with it. Perry is simply doing his best Captain Renault and he is shocked--shocked--to find that people are gambling in the back rooms at Rick's Place.

No doubt, those resistant to such measures will meow about the loss of the nebulous "human element."

Now, I have no feline predilections, but when you are making up "citing" specific statistics like "25 percent of the ball-strike calls look incorrect after replay or imaging," then that human element isn't very "nebulous" by your own definition.

Besides, there's no reason that, in an aesthetic sense, the game need change at all. You'd still have your home-plate umpire suited up and in his usual position. He'd have the computer calls relayed to him by a wireless indicator, and then he'd relay those calls with his typical flair.

Thank the Lord that even though we'll be eliminating the bulk of the umpire's craft, we will preserve the "flair" of the grandstanding officials who so rightly believe that they, not the famous athletes, are the main attraction.

The foundation of sports is fairness

No, no, no, no, no.

The foundation of sport is camaraderie, teamwork, and equanimity. The foundation of professional sport is greed, exclusion, and specialization--especially in baseball, where part of the impetus for forming the first professional leagues was to concoct a profitable business model for team owners and to gradually remove all brown people from the first-tier clubs.

and without a ruthlessly consistent strike zone baseball simply isn't fair.

Things that are also not fair: rainy Saturdays, the U.S. tax code, the continued prominence of Nickelback on mainstream radio, life.

With all the talk about steroids and competitive imbalance and the like, something as mundane and taken-for-granted as the strike zone isn't likely to inspire much in the way of activism.

Maybe because steroids and that old bugbear "competitive imbalance" (whatever that means) are actual problems.

It's time for baseball to repair itself at the most basic level: take ball-strike calls out of the hands of umpires.

And while we're at it, let's take game-calling out of the hands of catchers, plate discipline out of the hands of hitters, and command of the strike zone out of the hands of pitchers. Hell, we could even do away with pitchers entirely, substituting the finest pitching machine technology (which, coincidentally, would still be superior to Jose Mesa). That might finally make Chipper happy.

Or we could recognize that the purpose of these computer targeting systems is to merely evaluate--not replace--the consistency of an umpire's strike zone. It is a tool, not the means to some pie-in-the-sky end where arguing with any umpire is a thing of the past and everyone passes up the most convenient of opportunities to gain a competitive edge.

Like I said, I'm an open-minded person.

Wish You Were There

As I watched the Eagles' season opener slip away in the Crisco hands of J.R. Reid and Greg Lewis, Fox's B team of commentators wistfully reminded the audience that championships are not "won" (and very rarely "lost") during the first game. And though it seems like things shake out pretty quickly in the NFL, year after year there are usually multiple playoff spots up for grabs right until the last weekend of the season. Thus, a unique mix of a short schedule and a relatively small percentage of competitive difference between even the best and worst teams means more teams--and most importantly, more fans--are invested in the season until the very end.

I restate the obvious only because there is a major disparity between the psyche of the Eagles fan throwing himself under a bus for a few flukey special teams plays (the Packers were doing absolutely nothing on offense) and the Phillies fan patiently and loyally awaiting another playoff run thwarted by a bad bullpen, mental mistakes, swarms of locusts, whatever.

Truly, breaching the subject of the Phils' lack of achievement despite stretches of more-than-mediocre seasons elicits an eclectic mix of optimism and ambivalence. Why, then, is the mere idea of contendership exciting to the Phaithful? These are sports fans who coincidentally have a lot of contempt for professional sports (one championship in over 120 years kind of gives them the right).

Once again I turn to the prodigious wisdom of my father, who, when pressed for an explanation for the Phillies' lack of accomplishment in eras where they were relatively accomplished for a Major League Baseball team (i.e. the mid-70s until the mid-80s) could only offer the following nugget:

"Aaaah, they were right there in '81."

Indeed, Philadelphia made it into a four-team National League playoff during the 1981 split-season. It created in situation in which you could legitimately claim the Phils' success really was achieved in only half a season, their postseason spot guaranteed by virtue of the best "first half" record in the NL East. Naturally, they sleepwalked through the second half and wound up falling to the Montreal Expos in a best-of-five division series.

These Phillies have done their best to emulate what now seems like an annual tradition--the skittish, wildly fluctuating month-to-month inconsistency of the clubs of the late Carlton/Schmidt Era. A .500 team on July 8, they are eight games over the break-even point since the All-Star Game, a swing that brings to mind the torrid/tepid dichotomy of 1981, the inception of the wild card replacing a midseason strike as an excuse for the occasional incompetence of a so-called serious pennant contender. Except that now this happens almost every year. Thanks, Commissioner Selig.

They are doing exactly what it takes to remain in the pennant race without looking like they really have what it takes to make it. They exist in the deeper end of the talent pool but still often find themselves an arm or two short (paging John Ennis), looking sharp but ultimately treading Perrier. They are the hype and hoopla of Snakes on a Plane culminating in something that's neither solidly scary nor funny. They are the "Also Receiving Votes" in the AP Poll, Miss Congeniality at the beauty pageant, and the recipients of the "Participant" ribbon at the Pinewood Derby--they are the quintessence of the also-ran.

They are the dreaded moment when I may someday have to explain to my own children that, even with a league MVP, a potential MVP, a potential Cy Young, and one of the best offenses of the decade in a hitter's park, the 2007 Phillies were "right there."

And with apologies to Harry Kalas, if that's where the Phils plan on staying while waiting for the dam to burst, I'd rather be outta here.

Cole Hamels Walks A Slippery Slope

Calling Philadelphia sports fans "fickle" is beyond hackneyed, not least of all because sports fans in general are all fickle by nature. When you invest a huge chunk of your time and emotions in a relationship that spans a lifetime, you're bound to have bipolar ups and downs and the intense desire to micromanage said relationship (albeit vicariously). We all want to see our favorite teams and players succeed. When they fail, a deeply resentful, self-loathing part of us feels personally responsible, and we must tear down the things we love either in order to begin anew or realize why we loved them so much in the first place.

From the moment Cole Hamels arrived at spring training, I was first in the Kool-Aid line. His recent arm troubles have worried me and I completely understand the organization's desire not to rush a young pitcher back onto the roster when the team's playoff chances, for the fifth consecutive season, awkwardly straddle the line between contender and pretender (presciently predicted elsewhere in the blogosphere).

However, I had to cringe when this Cole quote was broadcast from the Mothership:

If the Phillies have fallen too far out of playoff contention, "I don't think it would serve a purpose," Hamels said. "It would be too much of a risk, unless we're going for something. The goal is to finish the season healthy, whether it's two or three starts, but that all depends on our chances for the playoffs."

This reminds me of two incidents from five years ago, one kind of minor and one major and neither of them very pleasant.

1. Mike Lieberthal's ambivalent comments on the final game of the 2002 season, upon which the Phillies could have finished with either an 81-80 or 80-81 record (in other words, a marginal--but clear--winning or losing season) due to a rained-out game with the Braves that was never made up due to its irrelevance in deciding any pennant races. According to Lieby, the guys "didn't really care" even though it could have given the Phils their first back-to-back .500-plus seasons since the early '80s. Not only was this an affront to professionalism and pride, but also, I felt, a tactless sort of ignorance of the history of the franchise and the psyche of the Greater Philadelphia Fandom in general.

2. The legendary Scott Rolen imbroglio in the summer of 2002, which pitted the former fan favorite against quintessential Philly Guy (at the time) Larry Bowa, still in his honeymoon phase after 2001's inexplicable run at a division title. Once Rolen let on that he'd rather not be in Philadelphia, the fan reaction was swift and unmerciful. It is the cardinal sin of athletes in almost any professional city, unless they have already alienated the fan base by some other means, to publicly state what amounts to a civic insult.

Again, most fans cannot really be that fickle or demanding of individual athletes with the dawn of free agency--especially in baseball, where the most inevitable scenario involves a team with bigger coffers waiting to pluck your favorite slugger from your grasp as quickly as possible. There's actually quite a bit of truth in the tired aphorism "cheering for the uniforms." Any perceived disrespect or ambivalence for said uniforms is therefore a highly dangerous course to take if an athlete's popularity is to be considered--and, clearly, some don't consider it at all.

The athlete wants what is best for his career. The fan wants what is best for the team. And, eventually, the athlete breaks his crown careening down a hill of ignominy while the fans (and sometimes the franchise) come tumbling after.

Tread lightly, Cole.

Old Timers' Day in the Phillies Bullpen

Yesterday's Phillies-Marlins game was an excellent case study in exactly what is wrong with the Phillies bullpen. In their defense, Joseph Durbin Durbin couldn't even get an out against the Teal Bastards while spotting them seven runs, forcing the 'pen to cover a full eight innings. Four different relievers were used, but the difference between each pitcher was like night and day.

Clay Condrey and the returning Francisco Rosario pitching a combined 5 scoreless innings, but Jose Mesa turned the prospect of a tasty reliever ice cream sandwich into a rancid Reuben by giving up two runs in 2 IP. Not to be outdone, Antonio Alfonseca coughed up three more runs in his one inning of work, including a home run to budding Phillie Killer Cody Ross.

I'll reiterate my point by grading each reliever's performance with a reminder of how old each player is (supposedly)...

Condrey (32): Good
Mesa (41): Bad
Rosario (26): Surprisingly good
Alfonseca ("35"): Terrible

This is the sort of up-and-down incompetence you get from the typical Adam Eaton start, and it threatens to take the wind out of the recently high-flying Phils' sails. With all of the attention garnered by the Phillies' young offensive stars, it's easy to forget that there are some older dudes on this squad.

Who would have thought that aged pitchers who have bounced around to so many teams would be breaking down near the end of the season? Sure, you don't want a bunch of guys just learning the hopes to be thrown in the heat of a pennant race, but it's time to reconsider the heavy emphasis a lot of baseball people place on "veteran experience."