Teddy
Every third week of August, the Martha’s Vineyard Agricultural Fair comes to the West Tisbury fairgrounds. West Tisbury was my town, but it’s between the estate towns on one side of the island and the commerce towns on the other — so unless you live there, it’s a usually place for passing through. The fair was the only event each year that brought people to West Tisbury, and we loved the shit out of it.
The fair was divided into two portions: the agricultural portion of the fair, which featured several old-school attractions like a woodsman and livestock contest, as well as contests for the island’s children to submit home-made art and games (my brother submitted a “Vineyardopoly” more than a decade ago and won nothing; now, a gussied-up version sells in stores. Hmmmmm.); the other side was a professional fair circuit of games and rides that toured the region during the summer. That was the good part.
We mostly avoided the rides — which appeared to be death traps — and we played some of the games, most notably, the “shoot the water pistol to race your dude up the pole” game and the “throw a dart into a teensie tiny star to win a T-shirt” game, but nothing came close to capturing our imagination like the gambling game.
The gambling game was in a u-shaped booth that featured 12 muffin tins arranged in a rectangle inside of it. Each muffin hole was painted one of nine colors: red, green, yellow, blue, brown, orange, black, silver or gold. There was a small, underinflated rubber basketball you threw into the pen, and whatever hole the ball landed in, bets on those colors paid off. The area where we leaned against — actually, leaning was prohibited to prevent you from changing your bet at the last minute — had the squares printed there with the odds of them coming up. Green, yellow, and red were 3-1; blue and brown were 5-1; black and orange were 7-1; silver was 10-1; and gold was 20-1. You could bet from 50 cents to $2, and the $40 that the 20-1 gold paid off positively blew our teenage minds. We spent hours upon hours there, memorizing the number of trays for each and calculating the actual odds (red actually had fewer holes than green or yellow), but mostly going with our gut and betting silver and gold way too often. We were so familiar with the calls of the guy running the game that we still recite them in mixed company. “Blue, BAAAY-BY blue! 5-1 on the blue!” was easily our favorite. It was the consummate kids game: low stakes, eating the summer hours, hanging out with your friends over a game run by a bunch of carnies who were probably banking for new cars with your money. Awesome.
Anyhow eventually I stopped going back to the Vineyard during the summer, with more and more work in Chicago to do preparing for the school year. The one year I did go and the gambling game was intact, I spent most of my afternoon and evening hours there, living the good life. The next day I showed up at 1 p.m. — by this time I had discovered alcohol, and my mornings started late — and I ran into one of my friends. He was beaming, and I asked why. “Teddy Kennedy was here earlier,” he said. I told him I hadn’t heard. I asked what he played, and I found out why he was so happy. “Played the gambling game,” he said, as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “Played it for two hours.”
I’ll remember Teddy K’s accomplishments in a lot of ways, but I’ll remember his life in that one: my senator oozing away a morning in paradise on a low-stakes game of chance. Then and now, it doesn’t get much better than that.
Why I Stopped Worrying About the Yankees
Despite my vocal objection to Frownifer’s early-season post that the Yankees were the favorites to win it all (in a post, oddly, he appears to have removed), it’s been pretty clear over the past few months that the Yankees are having the sort of run that often ends with a trophy being hosted over one’s head. It’s been de rigeur recently to say that the Red Sox are out of it, and treat that as some sort of ultimate statement on the Yankees’ season — that since their rivals are out of the division picture, they’re the World Series favorites.
Now, they may in fact be the World Series favorites, but I see three good reasons for Yanks fans not to get too excited. Or, conversely, for Yankee haters not to get too worried:
1) The Angels
Quietly — at least on this coast — the Angels are winning the AL West again, despite Baseball Prospectus’ best abilities to measure their performance. BPro has them second to the Rangers in adjusted standings, but the Angels always bust that measurement. I’m not sure the BPro folks find it as charming as Mike Scioscia does, and I’m sure Yankees fans don’t. The Yankees have (in)famously been beaten in two postseason series by the Angels this decade, and any Yankees fan will tell you the Angels have their number. Never mind introducing any sort of logic into the discussion — let them believe that! Let’s hope the players believe it too and cower at the sight of a shorn Jered Weaver. He’s all grown up now!
But seriously, a Yankees/Angels series would, and should, scare the piss out of Yankees fans. Which means good things for you and I. The kicker is that should the Red Sox sneak into the playoffs, they would play the Angels, and their history against the Halos is better. Since I’m not sure the Red Sox can beat the Yankees (though I will address it in #3), I wouldn’t be crushed if the Angels pulled that one out. Blasphemous? Hardly. Now that the Red Sox have won a couple, the most important part of each baseball season is making sure the Yankees don’t win it. We’re in this together.
2. Joe Girardi
I don’t know how much difference managers make. The name alone evokes a passive, the game-comes-to-me approach to running a team, as opposed to, say, a coach. Certainly the manager has the smallest role in the actual goings on of the game of any major sport. Some decisions get punished (Grady Little), while some, ultimately, don’t (Bob Brenly removed Curt Schilling from Game 4 of the 2001 World Series when he was unhittable).
Here’s what I know: Joe Girardi is kind of a prick. He got fired from the Marlins after winning Manager of the Year. He’s got zero of the Torre gravitas. There’s more than one way to skin a cat, but when I look at Girardi, I’m inspired with confidence — that he will do the wrong thing if given the opportunity. Mariano is insurance against this, and I have no evidence for this, but just looking at him, I’m confident in his ability to sow the seeds of chaos for his own team.
3. It’s the freaking playoffs
After the Cardinals won the World Series with an 82-79 record, it should be clear that anything is possible. That may be less true this year, with a few truly excellent teams around, but the fact is there are a few excellent teams. The Phillies are better now than they were last year — not that it means anything. The Dodgers, if they can get their shit together, can beat anyone. The Angels are great. The Cardinals are playing out of their minds, as are the Rockies. And if the Giants make the postseason, they could roll out a rotation of Lincecum, Cain and Sanchez. If they can find a map of the strike zone for Jonny S. (maybe on Ebay?) and score a run or two, well… you see what I’m saying. Oh, and the Red Sox could revert to early-season form.
It’s baseball, it’s the playoffs. Yankees fans are too paranoid to start talking big. Let’s let them be.
This Morning in Red Sox
Seems like people are sounding the alarm bell for the Red Sox this morning after losing two of three to the Yankees. “The Yankees did more than take two of three at Fenway. They took it to Josh Beckett, hammering Boston’s best shot at salvation,” ESPN writes.
And yet… the Red Sox still lead the wild card chase.
There’s a long way to go, and while I think the Yankees are the clear favorites in the AL East and baseball as a whole, anything can happen when you get into the playoffs. If the season ended today, the Red Sox would be there. I don’t get the panic, or the played-up Yankees/Red Sox rivalry that ESPN pushes on us — that if the Sox can’t catch the Yankees, they’ve lost the chance for “salvation.” It’s a great wild card race. Let’s enjoy that aspect of it. Eight teams make the playoffs, and the Red Sox have the sixth-best record in the game. Is that great? No. But it’s pretty freaking good, especially in that division.
I just want to make it clear, because one reader and commenter didn’t seem to understand, that I think the Red Sox will be competitive for the foreseeable future, and that I’m not counting them out for this year. I would love the addition of Billy Wagner, especially if it gets some of the relievers out of their comfort zones. Right now, Jonathan Papelbon and Manny Delcaaaaaahmen have been popping off about how the bullpen shouldn’t be shaken up right now. You can always get better, guys. I’ve had a window to the Billy Wagner experiment for the last few years now and I can say he’s a valuable addition — provided he’s not your closer. You’ve got literally nothing to lose by getting a left-hander who throws 100 miles per hour (or, at the very least, hard), and it doesn’t take a degree from the University of San Diego law school to know that.
But still: thinking about this team in the long run, it’s hard to see what’s on the ascent. Pedroia, for his youth, seems to be firmly established at a particular level, as does Youkilis. Only Jacoby Ellsbury, amongst hitters, seems to have much room for improvement at all. On the pitching side, Beckett is reliable, and Lester, I suppose, could improve, but other than that, all signs point to Daniel Bard. Actually, the pitching’s not terrible, with our prospects in waiting, but it’s not great, either. The hitting is particuarly scary.
All of this feeds into my bigger point: I think that Boston as *the* premier destination for baseball players in the non-Yankees is over. For years, Boston wasn’t even a premier destination for free agents… and then Manny signed. During the Manny/Ortiz era, it wasn’t hard to lure players. Now, it’s simply *a* premier destination, albeit one with strengths and drawbacks. To act as if people are going to come to Boston just because the Red Sox are good ignores the fact that a lot of other teams are good, too.
I don’t mind this at all: it’s a natural restoration of balance to the league, with the Sox a little higher than they were prior to 2004. But the crest of the wave is breaking. The new reality isn’t that the Sox are clearly the second-best team in the majors, it’s that they’re one of the best. I think the attitude of the fans should reflect that, and that they should act, in essence, as if we haven’t won anything yet.
Tomorrow, I’ll look at the pluses and minuses of playing in Boston.
We’ve seen this before
Yesterday, I talked about the Red Sox’ transformation from 2004 to 2009. Today I’m talking about other mini-dynasties, how they ended, and what we can learn.
I was born in 1978, so I’m only going to go as far back as the 1970s to look for mini-dynasties in the AL. In the 1970s, there was Oakland. In the late ’80s, early ’90s, there were the Twins. The Blue Jays won back-to-back titles in 1992 and 1993, and the Red Sox have recently been successful.
My question is: what makes Red Sox fans think that their recent run of success will be any different than those of the other teams? Time and again, the Yankees have come back to be the dominant force in the AL. I’m not sure anyone’s arguing against that, but its my contention that Red Sox fans should show a little humility. Two World Series does not a history make.
I will also admit, straight off, that not all these examples are equal. The A’s won three straight World Series in the 1970s, while the Twins won in 1987, then came from last place in 1990 to win the 1991 crown. So I’m already guilty of a radical oversimplication. Plus, there are several reasons to think that the Red Sox new position as 1A to the Yankees #1 may be permanent:
1) Market size and relative level of interest
Boston isn’t the biggest market, but it’s fairly big, the Red Sox are the main team, and the cable network (NESN) which carries the Sox brings in tons of money for the owners.
2) The owners
The trio of Henry, Lucchino and Werner have made winning the focus of the team.
3) Innovation
The Red Sox hired Theo Epstein, hired Bill James, and try to be on the cutting edge of baseball intelligence.
So what makes me believe a downfall is coming?
For one thing, it’s hubris. The Red Sox have nowhere to go but down. The Yankees haven’t won a World Series in eight seasons despite a bloated payroll. That’s going to change at some point.
On the second hand, as I discussed yesterday, the Red Sox need to remain a desirable destinaton for Latin players. There’s not a single team that comes to mind — the 2003 Marlins were probably the closest — that was built entirely from draft picks. As good as teams are at drafting, it’s still a crapshoot. The Red Sox will always be able to get some free agents, but they need to be able to get the ones they need. In fact, the Sox’ recent run of free agent signings leaves a lot to be desired, and is more defined by who they didn’t get (Mark Teixeira) than who they did (Dice-K, JD Drew, Julio Lugo).
Lastly, because I’m not sure how convincing all this is, the innovation that the Red Sox have been investing in and reliant upon is slowing down. The golden era of baseball innovation is slowly drawing to a close. Fielding statistics represent the last real dark corner of the baseball universe, and a place for teams to gain an advantage. Any additional advantages — like keeping players healthy — may represent continual progress, but is likely to be less important than the often frivolous nature of baseball (a hit here, a dropped third strike there) and, when teams all basically get on the same level technologically: money. When it comes right down to it, no one can compete with the Yankees there.
Let’s get this straight: I’m not complaining about the Yankees’ methods. Far from it. They have money and they should spend it. But Red Sox fans should realize that in the one lasting resource of the current baseball age, they will never, ever catch the Yankees. And the fans need to recognize what will happen when the rest of the playing field starts to level itself.
We’re off tomorrow but we’ll be back on Monday and pick it up again.
What’s Next for the Sox?
Yesterday, I talked about the shift in values for Red Sox fans since 2004. Today, I look at what’s next.
The 2004 Red Sox were instantly iconic, and not just for the feat they pulled against the Yankees. They were famously led by “idiots” — effectively, Johnny Damon and Kevin Millar — but they had in equal parts old-school baseball guys like Curt Schilling and Jason Varitek, Latin stars like Manny, Papi, Pedro, and Orlando Cabrera, and a host of role players. Having a diverse team doesn’t ensure anything, but it was impossible to miss the suprmely ironic fact that the Boston Red Sox finally won when they became one of the most colorful teams in the majors, literally and figuratively. The Sox were famously the last team to integrate, and Boston has had its share of racial issues since then. Barry Bonds said he would never play in Boston because the fans had been racist to his father. Boston fans were probably content with that.
In the immediate aftermath of the World Series win, GM Theo Epstein said something about the team’s composition that, at the time, made sense. The “idiot” Red Sox were largely cobbled from free agent signings and trades, and Epstein said the long-term goal of the organization was to become more “professional” (I’m paraphrasing here from memory) and to build a solid draft-based organization. The implication was that the hijinks of the 2004 squad, such as taking shots of Jack Daniels before World Series games, was not an appropriate way to go about playing baseball. The Sox would now distinguish themselves from the Yankees by becoming more like them on the exterior — warmly professional, non-controversial, murderously good — while being completely unlike them on the interior. The Sox would still sign high-ticket free agents, but they wouldn’t have to, because in the end no one can (or will) compete with the Yankees’ resources. This was a different plan, to become team 1A to the Yankees #1.
In the short term, it worked. The Red Sox won the 2007 World Series going away, crushing the Colorado Rockies. The following season, the Yankees failed to make the playoffs for the first time since 1993. It was good times in Boston. Or was it?
Concurrent with Epstein’s plan to overhaul the team after 2004 was a dramatic demographic shift in its make up. That might be poorly phrased: I don’t think the plan was to make the team lily-white, just competitive, but the two have dovetailed. In five years the Sox have gone from an iconic, multicultural team to an iconic, classic Boston team of mostly white players. Combined with a shift in the attitude of the fans — from underdog to overdog, as it were — this seems like a dangerous thing. Or at least something in which I’m wary of fully taking part.
There may be a sizeable contingent of people who think none of this matters. As a counterpoint, I’d go back to the 2000 signing of Manny Ramirez. The Manny signing broke the Boston mold so cleanly that it took a few years for the tricke-down effects to happen, but they did. Before 2000, no one wanted to play in Boston (not even the white players). The demands placed on the players were so high that it simply wasn’t fun for a lot of them. If they weren’t white, it was especially bad. It took famously absent-minded Manny to change that. Now, a Dominican player had voluntarily come to the city, and others followed. What’s easy to forget now is that Manny hated every minute of it. Sox fans seem to ignore the fact that, numbers aside, Manny had a lot to do with changing the culture of the clubhouse to make it more inviting for Latin players — or, shit anybody. With the focus on him, they could go do their jobs.
Now that Manny’s gone, the Latin exodus has followed. The only major contributors to the Red Sox who’s Latin are Victor Martinez, who was acquired during the year, and Ortiz, who’s still around. The Sox have remained competitive, though, because they remain a prime destination for all players — at least in perception. The party line is that they have great owners (they do), a great fanbase and they’re an elite team. What I’m worried about is that this “great fanbase” thing is about to change. One or two World Series victories don’t change everything, and for 100 years players were wary of Boston because the fans were overbearing, especially if they weren’t white. At some point, the glow has to come off the 2004 title, and when it does, will the Sox once again be negotiating from a position of weakness? Yes, they have money. But there are a lot of teams that do, in places with populations that demographically better match those of Major League Baseball players as a whole.
My point is, and it may be a bit belabored, the market of Boston as one of *the* two destinations is probably past its expiration point. The good part is that Epstein has succeeded in building a strong enough organization to compete every year. But that may not be enough to lure players in the coming years. To think of the Red Sox as 1A to the Yankees is probably not realisitic. In fact, they’re only the most recent team to try it: all succeed for a little while, revel in the accomplishment, and then see a return to form.
Tomorrow I’ll talk about other teams that have had mini-dynasties in the AL.
The New Landscape
Picking up from yesterday in our indefinite series.
I left off yesterday by saying Red Sox fans no longer have a common stake. I’ll expand on that.
Before 2004, all Red Sox fans wanted the Sox to win the World Series for one reason: just to see it happen. It wasn’t to co-opt any sense of superiority from the Yankees, even if that’s exactly what happened. How on Earth could any Red Sox fan reasonably say that the team is better than the Yankees because it’s won two World Series in five years? Anyhow, I’m getting ahead of myself. The point is, Sox fans wanted to see the Sox win because they didn’t think it was even possible. You can call it quirky, neurotic, or egregiously egotistical (that God, or whomever, would choose us to suffer), and you’d be right on all these things, but there’s no doubt that it was compelling on the outside and all-consuming on the inside.
When I say that I thought about what it would be like when the Red Sox won the World Series every day, I meant every day. My fondest memories came in my first sustained job after college, when I worked at a newspaper office in the middle of Queens accessible from my apartment by a four-train commute that took upward of an hour. The last leg was a 15-minute walk up a hill under the Long Island Expressway, then into a residential neighborhood. It was here, walking past a CVS with the cars whizzing past me both on the side and above, that I did the real daydreaming. Would it be at home? On the road? Would it be a walk-off or a slaughter? Naturally, I always imagined myself there, in the stands, even if I’ve been to Fenway only a handful of times. But how would it happen? I wouldn’t so much construct scenarios in my mind as much as I would reset my brain each day and see what came up next. The kicker was that I would create all these wild scenarios in which they won, and they’d go out and lose in even more creative ways that I could have imagined.
Yes, the Sox formerly made something of an art of losing — as bad as a loss was, you could just add it to the collection. Now, there’s no upside to a loss, because we’re in the business of dominance. I think of Plato’s words — favorites of my friends, the Cleveland Frizzies — “never discourage anyone who continually makes progress, no matter how small.” I took all the losses as signs of progress; we were going to explore every tough way to lose before we figured out how to win. That’s what separated the Sox (and their fans) from the Cubs, and theirs. I would say that after the horrifically slow Enos Slaughter scored from first on a single to win the 1946 World Series, Sox fans probably groaned. Then there was 1967, and 1975, and Bucky Dent, and Bill Buckner, and Aaron Boone. Each one of these upped the ante, and by 2004 the whole thing reached a breaking point. The Sox really had found every way to lose.
That’s why the 2004 win inspired such confidence; I’m just surprised that it hasn’t abated. It seems to me like most Red Sox fans think that the suffering they and the team underwent entitles them to a dominant team, and that the Yankees-Sox dynamic is forever changed. It hasn’t. The Yankees will always be the Yankees, and the Sox will always be the Sox, and the Yankees will always be better. That’s a fact. If you’re a Sox fan who thinks differently, I want you to write this down somewhere where you read it every day. You are not the Yankees. Remember that. Because to the world at large, Sox fans and Yankees fans are now indistinguishable. Remember all those bad things you said about Yankees fans before 2004? And you probably still say now? That’s you.
Why would you want to be like that?
Because you suffered?
Whether you like to admit it or not, the suffering was what made being a Red Sox fan fun. And believe me, not all fans feel this way. Ask any Indians fan whether they like what’s happened to their team over the last two decades. Ask any Mets fan what it’s like to be, well, them. I have. You know what they say? “Let us just win one, then we’ll be happy.”
That’s how I feel about the Sox. I’m happy with the one they have. The second was just gravy. But if being a Sox fan is all about dominance now, I think most fans are missing the point. And worse, if they really think that, I think there are dark clouds on the horizon, which I’ll pick up tomorrow.
The Post-Baseball Mindset
This is part one of a series that will continue until I’m out of thoughts, a stream-of conscious ramble on what being a baseball fan means to me nowadays.
I’m in a state that I’d like to call post-Baseball. I still love the sport, love the stats, love watching it, and playing it. But the fire is gone. No more long nights thinking about whether or not the Red Sox would win the World Series in my lifetime, and no more thinking about how it would happen, play by play. I used to think about that every day of my life. Now it’s an apparition, a ghost of the past. It’s not the only one. Whenever David Ortiz strolls to bat, it’s like I’m in a time machine, or my brain hit rewind. To me, he belongs to a different era: the era in which I cared.
To me, David Ortiz is the last baseball star. In almost single-handedly resurrecting the 2004 Red Sox from their shallow grave, he put Boston baseball at the center of the sports world. That’s never where it was supposed to be. Like New England, Boston sports were supposed to exist at the periphery. The entire appeal of being a Red Sox fan was that it was a club that was easy to join and impossible to leave. The rewards looked great at first until you realized they weren’t rewards at all. For instance, if you were a Red Sox fan you knew that many others suffered along with you. This seems great until you realize no one likes to suffer.
Now that the Red Sox have exorcised their demons, and their futile ways are a relic of the past, the club is far too easy to leave to mean anything anymore. You have what are called casual Red Sox fans, which used to be a contradiction in terms. Now, it’s the norm. Much is made by the old school fans about the pink hat-wearing crowd, which is both the new legion of female fans attracted to the team (and its players) and the men that encourage it. These people are scapegoats, but the crime is real, at least against the bedrock Red Sox fanbase that now makes up about 50% of the whole quote unquote Nation. When the Yankees swept four games from the team two weeks ago, I was not nonplussed — I was actually happy to see something with which I was familiar. There is a long, storied history of the Red Sox dominating the Yankees in the spring only to be crushed by the New Yorkers in the summer and fall; it used to be a reliable as the seasons themselves. This year was a return to normalcy, so to speak, and for that I was actually happy. The Red Sox may never engage in a stretch of futility to match their last one (and despite what I’m writing, let’s hope not), but it’s that futility which made them compelling. Without it, they’re—or more accurately, their fans—a bunch of loudmouths.
It’s sad but true that winning has exposed Boston fans as some of the most ungracious people on Earth, but I can’t say I am totally surprised—I don’t live there for a reason, despite growing up in the area, and dreaming of nothing more than of owning Fenway season tickets since I was seven. The provincialism is dense and unyielding, at least if you’re paying attention. I’m always paying attention. It might have something to do with moving to the area when I was 12 and feeling out of place. It also might have something to do with the fact that a lot of the people there are raging assholes. At least before the Red Sox won, we were all in something together. There was a common stake.
Good.
I’m glad David Ortiz was outed as a steroid user.
It’s about time.
Oh, sure, he’s about to get down to business and find out what he tested positive for. I’m not too worried about it. I’m sure it was something that was banned and that he took on purpose. But finally: I can rest now.
The outing of the 2004 Red Sox was only a matter of time. To Red Sox fans that are crushed today, or Yankees fans that are elated, what planet were you living on? To the Red Sox fans: do you really think your team was a paragon of virtue? To Yankees fans: do you really think that losing to the Sox in seven games in 2004 is now any less humiliating?
There are much bigger problems facing the league than who used steroids in 2004. Cliff Lee just got traded from the Indians to the Phillies, the latest in a long line of players (Belle, Manny, Thome, CC) who have taken a one-way train out of Cleveland because the Indians don’t have the resources to compete. My friend Cleveland Frowns has been all over this. A onetime baseball fan, he’s turned off to the skewed playing field, and I don’t blame him.
If the Indians had won the World Series in 1997, do you think he would care if Thome was outed as a steroid user? I sincerely doubt it. Why would I care as a Red Sox fan now? I love David Ortiz, but this is hardly surprising. All the writers get their stories and talk to the players who lament another one who fell by the wayside — except the catch is, they used to go to Papi for these quotes. We’re on some X-Files shit: Trust No One.
And that’s fine with me. I’m not here to talk about the past, because the past is gone. Let’s do things to make the future of the game better before we open up the witchhunt. I’m sick of steroids and except for the fans who love to see Boston fail, so is everyone else. I don’t blame those fans, either, but I’m wearing my Sox hat today and I’m still proud of what they did. What’s done is done. You can strike their titles from the record books if you want, throw up an asterisk, whatever. Doesn’t make a damn bit of difference to me. I’m over it.
Josh Beckett, Cy Young Winner
I remember when the Red Sox traded for Josh Beckett. On another blog, I wrote that he had the chance to be one of the “top three pitchers of the next five years.” After a disastrous first season, a commenter on that blog asked me whether I meant Justin Verlander or Francisco Liriano. Since that year, however, Beckett has been mostly lights out, and almost entirely better than those two. Verlander’s had something of a comeback year this year and is in the running for a Cy Young award. But he won’t win it. Beckett will.
It’s a bold statement that relies somewhat heavily on Roy Halladay getting traded out of the American League, which I still think is going to happen. But it could happen either way. He’s arguably been the third best-pitcher in the AL this year behind Halladay and Zack Greinke (in either order), and Greinke is going to be handicapped for his lack of wins, which is not his fault. After a rough start to the season, Beckett improved to 12-4 yesterday and now has the most wins in the AL to complement his 3.44 ERA — which, translated into “Non-AL East,” is even lower. He’s also on a roll at the right time.
That’s why I expect him to be holding the Cy Young Award in November. There’s also this: he’s accomplished literally everything else he could accomplish. He’s a World Series champion twice over and a World Series MVP. If he has that kind of cache when the voting happens, he might get the award based on reputation. Let’s be clear that I’m not making a value judgment on Greinke here — Greinke is incredible. But just as I wrote that the Royals had done everything right with Greinke and had nothing to show for it, the Red Sox have done everything right with Josh Beckett and should have a trophy at the end of the year. The rich get richer, I guess.
–
Omar Minaya embarrassed himself and the Mets yesterday, something which isn’t hard to do. He called out Daily News writer Adam Rubin for asking around about a job in baseball, and connected that to Rubin’s stories that ultimately “forced” Minaya to can Rubin. First of all, Minaya would have had a better platform from which to criticize Rubin if he didn’t fire Tony Bernazard for alleged bizarre conduct; he could then say Rubin had basically made it all up. By firing Bernazard, he basically admitted Rubin’s stories were right. So what was the problem?
Well, Minaya hinted that Rubin had been angling for a job with the Mets. Now let’s follow his logic: Rubin writes stories sure to piss off the Mets so that a very senior guy will get fired, and then believes the Mets will be so indebted to him that they’ll hire him for a scouting position, which he’s casually asked about. Sounds right on the money! It doesn’t sound odd to me that a baseball writer would be curious about possibly working for a baseball team — actually, it seems quite natural — but it has nothing to do with his ability to do his job. If anything, Rubin sacrificed his chance to work for the Mets here, and he knew it. Again, had Minaya kept Bernazard on staff, he’d have a leg to stand on. But he didn’t. So he should apologize.
Beyond that, caught some highlights from last night but nothing too interesting. Josh Willingham hit two grand slams and SportsCenter tried to play it up, but I wasn’t buying it. Ho hum. Give me Fernando Tatis any day. (He hit one last night too).
Yawn.
Guest Post
Got trapped under some rocks of my own making today (yes, I make rocks), so things are a little slow. Didn’t know what to write, so I reached out to friend and loyal reader BK Wallstreet, who provided me with this gem:
“The Sox are good, the Mets are not. Straight and to the point.”
That’s your lesson for today, kids. I’ll be back at it tomorrow.
