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!

Philling In: Night of the Living Burrell

Ed's Note: Henceforth I shall abandon the bland "Phillies Notes" tag and, at long last, correctly recognize all my random, half-developed observations for the filler they are.

Pat Burrell is like a Nilla Wafer. He's never quite as good as you remember him or want him to be, but since the recipe remains consistent you're never really that upset.

I mention this because Jerry Crasnick has compiled some sort of "Back from the Dead" all-star team, and numero uno is none other than Pat the Bat. Besides establishing Pat in the same company as hot baseball commodities Jeff Weaver and Julio Lugo, Crasnick makes the same point that I try to make to a lot of Burrell-bashers: despite all the booing, he always comes back, yeoman-like, and puts up a vague approximation of the stats he's always had (save for 2003). Sure, he's losing steps and he's a streaky hitter, but he's streaky in a sabermetric-y way, usually finding his way out of the woods by the end of the season. Most guys regress to the mean, but the Big Vanilla--especially this year--usually finds himself ascending to the mean. If he doesn't finish the season in the neighborhood of .270/25/85, I will eat the sleeves off my Terrell Owens jersey.

Also notable is Crasnick's comment describing Burrell's chronic under-achievement:

Burrell had just failed to make an All-Star team for the eighth straight season

Total number of seasons Pat Burrell has played in the majors: 8
Total number of All-Star teams Burrell has failed to make: 8

I don't think you should be allowed to frame it as a statistical drought if it's never even occurred once. This shocks me, actually. Even Von Hayes, the patron saint of Phillies bloggers and in many ways a spiritual forefather to Burrell, made it to the Midsummer Classic at least once.

I know who I'm ironically stuffing the ballot box for next year.

- Looking at last night's box score, a single number jumped out and grabbed me by the throat--1. It represents the first (and maybe last) stolen base of Ryan Howard's career. I somehow missed the game even though it was on FSN here on the West Coast and have been searching YouTube in vain for video confirmation of this milestone. The Subway diet is clearly producing results.

- An addendum to yesterday's musings on injuries: according to this item, of the 25 players on the Phillies' Opening Day roster, only 9 of them have not spent time on the disabled list this year. Improbably, Aaron Rowand is one of the nine men out (of the trainer's room....da-da KISH!).

- Speaking of Rowand, the FSN Prime Ticket announcing team of Charley Steiner (who didn't sound like Charley Steiner at all) and Steve Lyons (whom I dislike) could not stop waxing poetic about the dude. You'd have thought he saved their cat from a tree or something. When Lyons broke the tension and used the timeworn cliché, "He's the kind of guy who gets his uniform dirty, the kind of guy that comes to play every day," it really made me think.

If Rowand comes to play every day and gets dirty, then he must be the Phillies' MVP. Compared to everyone else, he's the most deserving of praise and is singlehandedly keeping the team afloat. Think about it.

Jimmy Rollins shows up every day but is a very well-groomed fellow, so he can't be worth as much. Cole Hamels only comes to play every five days. Brett Myers will come to play every day, but only if the Phils have a slim lead. And that charlatan, Abraham Nunez, comes to play every few days and only then for the last couple innings. What a jerk.

Almost makes me pine for Wheels and Sarge.

The Yin and Yang of the Phillies DL

Yang is the bright element, active, upward-seeking. It is the light. It is Chase Utley swinging a bat, ready to rehab in the minors, and back in a week's time.

Yin is the dark element, passive, downward-seeking. It is the dark. It is Cole Hamels suffering from a "strained elbow" and missing at least one start, with rumors that it could take him down for much longer than that.

But in yang there is also yin. We only hope Utley is ready to come back so soon, barely a month removed from breaking his hand. And what of Tad Iguchi, the .326 hitter with no other natural position but second base? The crowding of Tad, Dobbs, Helms, and Nunez all at third is terrible feng shui.

And in yin there is also yang. The absence of Hamels allows You Know Who to continue doing what he does best while the injury rollercoaster climbs to another peak with Shane Victorino almost ready to come back.

The lesson we learn from this season is that no earthly thing has one true nature. We must meet it with unwavering serenity and blithely explain it all away as the in the example of Krishna Charlie:

"It's been a very freak season," Manuel said.

Peace be with you, students.

Matt Kata Gets His Revenge

Perhaps he overheard me making fun of Ed Wade for acquiring him in 2005 or something, but it looks like Pirates utilityman and former Phillie Matt Kata definitely ate his Wheaties this weekend.

Kata only had two pinch-hitting appearances in the Pirates' 2-1 series victory, and he damn sure made them count: a solo homer on Friday and a three-run double in that horrendous 7-run seventh inning yesterday that featured the relief stylings of Romero and Alfonseca.

This from a guy that's had a total of 138 AB in the past three seasons. It's like Scott Thorman times ten.

Going 3-3 against two franchises--Pittsburgh and Washington--that are going absolutely nowhere (I kind of feel sorry for the Pirates because it's like they are trying to walk the wrong way on the airport's moving sidewalk, the Gnats are simply irrelevant) isn't the best way to hang in the playoff chase; however, the Phillies have been pulling a Phil Collins all year long and, against all odds, are very much in the hunt. Here's hoping they step up their game against some more worthy adversaries this week.

The Glorious Return of Joseph Durbin Durbin

Honestly, J.D. Durbin's middle name is Adam. He's technically calling himself "Joseph Durbin Durbin."

After Adam Eaton landed on the 15-day DL for his chronic spasms of Suckitude (the same affliction that also took down Rod Barajas and Freddy Garcia), thus leaving the Phillies with $24.5 million of starting pitcher carcass spoiling in the sun, I did a funny thing.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

Eaton's injury meant that "The Real Deal" Durbin, the once and future king of Phillies spot starters, would find his way back into the rotation for today's game against the Pittsburgh Pirates. There is just something about Durbin that perfects encapsulates the inspired lunacy that is the 2007 Phillies, and their starting pitching in particular.

He's been an amalgamation of Bill and Ted thus far, a slacker with a heart of gold and a knack for popping up at historically opportune moments despite the fact he has absolutely no business being there. And you know what? He has amazingly done more than enough to keep the back end of the Phils' rotation afloat (no word yet on if he's going to graduate from San Dimas High).

There can be no certifiable explanation for Durbin's success--not for a guy who pitched 8 total innings in the majors with 13 earned runs before joining the Phillies. His ERA was 94.50 (0.2 IP, 7 ER) when they picked him up for crying out loud!

Since then, he's 3-1 with a 4.44 ERA and 10.03 run support in his four starts. He shut out the Padres on the road. He relieved Kyle Lohse in Lohse's injury-marred first Phillies start and wound up with the win. He even got a save against the Teal Bastards in a game the Phillies led 11-1 in the ninth. That is some strange, strange voodoo right there.

Clearly, the boy is blessed with some sort of heightened consciousness during stressful situations, becoming the perfectly adequate tweener pitcher when we need it the most. He's a beautiful disaster, an accident of history like Jeff Weaver in the 2006 playoffs. There's no way that he shouldn't be a huge failure, given what we know about him and the Phillies.

With the high profile (and highly expensive) flops of Eaton, Garcia, and Jon Lieber, youth is being served on the mound in Philadelphia. It has the potential to be a Detroit Tigers Lite rotation, a collection of young, cheap arms willing their team to victory with enthusiasm instead of experience. With Cole Hamels, Kyle Kendrick, and the soon-to-return Scott Matheison channeling Bonderman, Verlander, and Robertson (sort of), it's not hard to starting thinking about the postseason. But, fittingly, it may all hinge on Durbin, the sink-or-swim Mike Maroth-type of this analogy. It could mean the Series.

It could also mean he's going to lose 20 games.

Which, I wonder, is the real deal?

Do You Recall...Matt Beech?

The Baker Bowl continues its hard-hitting monthly exposé of past Phillies scrubs and the smart-ass fans who love them.

Do You Recall...Matt Beech?

There's a big baseball-related news story making its way through both the shameful mainstream media and the shameless alternative media on this day: Jose Offerman, former major leaguer and Phillies utilityman, assaulted two opposing players with a bat during a game in the independent Atlantic League on Tuesday night. All the coverage is focused on the perp, Offerman, with little mention of the victims. Even the lovable mooks at the 700 Level missed a golden opportunity to catch up with a far more recognizable member of the Phillies family. And so far, I'm the only commenter to point it out; actually, I'm the only commenter, period.

Why?

It's because the main target of Offerman's wrath was once one of the most infamous Phillies on arguably the worst Phillies team of the past 20 years.

It's because a subpar but persistent pitcher who never was surrounded by adequate major league talent deserves a better eulogy than trading a beanball for a broken finger.

It's because the pink elephant in the room is none other than Matt Beech, a Phillies left-handed starter--make that the Phillies left-handed starter--from 1996-1998.

I have italicized for emphasis because after the 1996 mid-season trade of Terry Mulholland for Desi Relaford (two Baker Bowl favorites), Beech was the only lefty in the Phillies' rotation pitching on a consistent basis. In fact, he was the only lefty starter on the roster in 1997 and 1998. It was for this reason that Beech kept his place in the rotation despite his brutal statistics. (Mulholland, by the way, was still active as of last season at age 43, his 20th season in the majors, for very similar reasons.)


Matt Beech Phillies Statistics: 8-22 career record, 295 IP, 5.37 ERA, 1.54 WHIP, 266 K, 131 BB

Little Matty Beech probably had no idea that when he started picking up crayons with his left hand it would someday allow his team to lose 14 consecutive games he started (though he only picked up the loss in half of them). Or that he would personally pitch 22 straight starts without a victory, a span of a little more than one year. Or that he was seriously considered one of the best bets to be the first pitcher to lose 20 games in a season since Brian Kingman in 1980.

Obviously, the fans can blame the Phillies organization and their inability to either acquire or develop another left-handed starter as much as they can blame Beech. There wasn't even a guy the Phils could call up for a September cup of coffee--lefties went to the Phillies minor-league system to die. It was like they weren't even trying.

On the other hand, maybe there wasn't much they could do to help Beech in the first place. In 1998, with an improved Phillies squad led by emerging youngsters Scott Rolen and Bobby Abreu, Beech complied a 3-8 record and a 5.15 ERA with 3.86 runs of support per game. In 1997, an much worse team supported Beech with 4.25 runs per game, and still his record was 4-9 with a 5.07 ERA.

Looking through rose-colored glasses, Beech was a pretty good strikeout pitcher with a 2.03 K/BB ratio, and he kept the lefty spot warm for Randy Wolf once he finally arrived in 1999. Also, Beech managed to hold onto a great sense of humor on a sinking ship filled with a bunch of stoics. I don't remember the exact quote, but after the game he finally snapped that 22-start non-winning streak he said something to the effect of, "Awesome. At this rate I'll be a 20-game winner in 15 years."

Unfortunately, he hasn't pitched in the majors since 1998 and will most likely not make it out of the minors again. After the Phillies released him into free agency, Beech shuttled between 11 different minor league teams, including the Long Island Ducks of the Atlantic League (ironically, the current employer of Jose Offerman) where he was a teammate of John Rocker. He's now pitched for the Atlantic League's Bridgeport Bluefish for the past two seasons thus proving, like Terry Mulholland before him, that lefties endure no matter how large their misfortune or how little their talent.

Maybe it's time for me to consider a different career path.

For doing a job when there was nobody else suited to do it, I fondly recall Matt "Lefty Longevity" Beech.

Full Matt Beech Statistics (including minors and indies) [Baseball Cube]

Brett Myers Hates Disco, Loves Butt Rock

An interesting item in the most recent "Phillies notes" (damn, now I need a new name for mine) on the official website:

Brett Myers spent a good deal of time with his iPod before Thursday's game, sifting through options for a proper entrance song.

Well, you were awesome on Wednesday, Brett, but you probably should have spent more time going over the scouting reports.

He wasn't happy to hear K.C. & The Sunshine Band's "(Shake, Shake, Shake) Shake Your Booty" when he entered Wednesday's game, and let anyone within earshot know about it.

Well, there you go. Don't play games with karma, Brett. The boogie giveth and the boogie taketh away.

"It ticked me off," Myers said after the game. "They need to do a poll in the paper to tell people to pick my song."

Myers said that he's narrowed down the choices, and a finalist is believed to be "Lights Out," by P.O.D. Myers has used both White Zombie's "Children of the Grave" and The Outlaws' "(Ghost) Rider in the Sky" this season, though neither has stuck.

Huh? No Puddle of Mudd? No DragonForce? Brett, if you want people to laugh at you, then just pick a J.Lo song and get it over with.

Why is it that closers must have an uber-macho entrance theme when they are some of the biggest goobers in the game? Nobody would think Brian Fuentes was any more badass if he came to the mound in a Pantera t-shirt, rocking out to "Number of the Beast." If I can blame Billy Wagner for one more thing, I'd like to criticize him for completing the late-inning relief ace's transition from key sub in a goofy bullpen cart to cartoonized professional wrestler betraying his fear with misguided overtures towards manliness.

In that case, Brett, just ape the Ultimate Warrior's theme music and come out in full face paint, shaking the foul pole and sprinting around the bases. Think of it as an extended conditioning regimen.