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."

HOLY SHIT THAT WAS AWESOME

4 games swept from the New York Metropolitans.
3 amazing late-inning finishes.
2 games out of the division lead.
1 month left to go in another tense pennant race.

There were lots of heroes in this series from Ryan Howard to Jayson Werth. But it was particularly sweet seeing Jimmy Rollins set the pace for the Team to Beat, going 9 for 19 with 2 HR, 3 RBI, and a ludicrous 1.421 OPS. Honestly, I can't recall a recent season where Jimmy has been so underrated. Considering his world-class defense at a middle infield position and his cool, confident leadership, is it blasphemous to suggest that J-Roll might be just as deserving of MVP honors as Chase Utley?

Great picture (un-saveable) of Tad Iguchi at the official website. Bring on those Teal Bastards!

Uncle Cholly: Manager of the Year?

Kevin Hench of FOXSports.com brings us this delectable little nugget from his recent piece ranking the National League's Manager of the Year candidates:

The Phils had a chance to shave the Padres' wild card lead to two games Saturday night before Tom Gordon and Brett Myers combined to allow three home runs in the 8th and 9th in a crushing 4-3 loss. Myers had to be restrained from going after a reporter in the clubhouse after the game.

That was a pretty embarrassing incident for everyone involved in the organization, especially when the audio made its way onto the web. Definitely not good for the Phillies. Let's hope people don't judge them by the actions of one crazy closer who has had trouble controlling his emotions throughout his career.

So things are pretty much back to normal in Philly.

Kevin Hench, you asshole.

In April, it was Manuel who had to be held back from going after a media agitator. The team responded immediately to Manuel's fire, jumping back into contention over the next two months.

He's certainly succeeded in getting his players to lash out at sportswriters when asked about the correct spelling of the word "retard" and provide a list of excuses (injuries, opponents, the ballpark) when they can't get the job done. Charlie's been very exemplary in this regard.

But it's been hard to imagine the Phils making it to the finish line with their matchstick-and-bubblegum pitching staff. If they somehow win the wild card, Manuel deserves a ton of credit (and a free agent starter who isn't a complete disaster).

Yes. The way the Phillies are remaining in playoff contention has nothing to do with Ryan Howard rediscovering his power stroke, or Pat Burrell's resurgence, or Aaron Rowand's career year, or Jimmy Rollins' quiet consistency, or the blossoming of Cole Hamels, or the pants-down luck of finding pitchers in the farm system who are far superior to those disastrous free-agent starters.

The credit all belongs to Charlie, the man who overworked Myers during his transition, overplayed Howard during his slumps, quixotically supported Rod Barajas, batted Rowand in six different places, and always left pitchers in for one out too long.

It cannot be that the flawed Phils are again succeeding despite Manuel, carried on the back of a monster MVP candidate for the second straight year. That would be far too logical.

Lack of Meat Sapping Phillies' Strength

My worst fears have come to pass.

Citizens Bank Park has been given the "coveted title" of Most Vegetarian-Friendly Park in Major League Baseball by none other than the folks at PETA, who have not only cornered the market on misguided lobbying but also corny baseball metaphors. Indeed, ballpark food choices full of flavor, "cruelty-free," and low in cholesterol are truly a "triple play."

I'm really angry at PETA for continuing to presume it is a relevant and respected organization amongst the majority of sports fans. I am more agitated by the fact that CBP tops the list ahead of parks in cities where the fanbase is the complete anti-Philly--places like San Francisco and (ugh) Seattle. What hath Aramark wrought?

To wit, I'm filing a formal protest against this decision because the study is completely flawed. The PETA people clearly just looked at ballpark menus online instead of actually going to the parks, in which case they would have found that--except for the food--Philadelphia is probably one of the least vegetarian-friendly environments in the majors.

As Phillies fans, we have a collective hatred for anything hip or sanctimonious, we fear the exotic since "colorfulness" has caused us to crash and burn far too many times. I'd also be willing to bet that the veggie options are more expensive than the standard fare, anathema to the vast Phillies lumpenproletariat. Not to mention that you'd be laughed out of the stadium for ordering a "Philly mock-steak sandwich."

It's time PETA focused on the real animal-cruelty issues in MLB, namely the exploitation and enclosure of free-range managers.


Set Charlie free!