T-Wolves’ Last Shot

My season of Timberwolves-viewing got off on the same bad foot previous ones have ended on, with the T-Wolves unable to get off a decent shot with a chance to win the game. Last night it was against Kevin Garnett and the undefeated Celtics, who played a very losable game with the particular help of new addition Rasheed Wallace, who insisted on clanking three-pointers in the fourth quarter. Thus, the Wolves found themselves down 92-90 with the ball and 13 seconds left.
My complaint in years past has been their tendency, at this point, to stop cutting-and-passing, the way they play best, and leave the ball in the hands of the point guard, who dribbles the clock down to three seconds, then finds that he can’t make a play all by himself – the familiar isolation dribble that works fine if you have Allen Iverson or Dwyane Wade or LeBron James on your team. My complaint last night was the equally familiar NBA move: the coach calls timeout to “draw up a play” or “make sure the team knows what to do.”
First of all, any basketball player who doesn’t know that in this situation you wait for the last shot doesn’t belong in a gym, let alone the NBA. Second, it shouldn’t take a coaching genius to tell you that, facing a much stronger team, you should try for a three-pointer and the win, not overtime. Therefore, what wisdom is there left for the coach to impart during the timeout. Yes, he can “draw up a play,” but what have practices been for? And how many such plays ever get effectively executed, given the unknown of the opponent’s defense?
On the other hand, by calling timeout, the coach a) gives the defense time to make situational substitutions and organize itself, a greater advantage to the generally harried defense than the offense; b) loses precious seconds and perhaps even the ball by requiring his offense to run an in-bounds play; and c) kills the momentum the offense often has when it has made a defensive stop and is coming downcourt with a chance to win.
Last year, the Wolves couldn’t even get the ball in-bounds in this situation. Last night, they did – barely – then had to repeat themselves after the Celtics used their “foul-to-give,” another weapon the defense often forgets or is unable to employ absent a time-out called by the offense. The ensuing “play” consisted of Corey Brewer, one of their most erratic offensive weapons, driving to the basket, which in itself basically removed the chance of a three-point shot and victory. Kevin Garnett tied him up after a mild foul – but what ref would call a foul on a defensive player of the year in that situation? – and there went the Wolves’ chance.
I won’t mind if the Wolves play all their games this close and it comes down to the last shot. I will continue to be bothered, though, if in those games the Wolves don’t get off that last shot.

Twins Get Swept

When one team is 0-10 for the year against another, it is pretty safe to say that that second team, in this case the Yankees, is better than the first, in this case the Twins; so it is not really worth harping on a) the Twins’ fatigue in Game One; b) the ump’s bad call on Mauer’s ‘double’ (the worst call I’ve ever seen in the Majors) in Game Two; or c) Punto’s baserunning gaffe in Game Three. As Mike Lupica opined on Sunday morning, the Yankees would still have found a way to win these games. They not only have a decided edge in talent, they have a not unrelated psychological edge that will only dissipate once the Twins win a series against them.
Nevertheless, the ALDS just concluded was instructive in pinpointing the gaps between these Twins and a championship-caliber squad. The most obvious is the closer. The Twins would have won Game Two if Joe Nathan hadn’t surrendered a two-run homer to A-Rod on a fastball right down the middle, and they would have had a slight chance in Game Three if he hadn’t given up hits to the first two batters he faced in that ninth inning. Nathan has great save stats, but I’ll bet that less than half are what I would call ‘quality’ saves (see The Save). His huffing and nervous mannerisms make me nervous and make me admire, all the more, Mariano Rivera, who comes in and calmly throws strikes. Fuentes of the Angels, the Majors’ saves-leader, inspires similar confidence. But we all know that the Twins are lucky to even have Nathan, and an upgrade in this area is not foreseeable.
Partly that is due to the shortcomings of the relief staff leading up to him. I had high hopes for Pat Neshek two years ago, but his effectiveness after Tommy John surgery will be a question. Jose Mijares looked like a stopper mid-year, but he got, literally, no one out the last two weeks and looked lost on the mound. Matt Guerrier is serviceable, no more, and I hope we can keep Jon Rauch; but the end of the game is no longer the lock is used to be when the Twins had a lead after seven.
Cuddyer and Span blossomed into front-line players – I could even see them cracking the Yankees lineup. I have no doubt that we will see another season of Punto, Tolbert and Cabrera in the middle infield. Morneau will be back at first, hopefully with more consistency; and despite his being overmatched this last week, I think Jose Morales will be an upgrade on Mike Redmond as backup catcher.
If Delmon Young continues to improve, which is possible, he can contribute. A platoon with Jason Kubel would limit the defensive liabilities of both. If we keep Pavano, the pitching is set: Slowey, Baker, Pavano, Duensing, Blackburn is a solid five, without even considering Perkins, Liriano or Bonser. That leaves holes, big holes, at third base and DH, both places where power is needed. As the playoffs with the Yankees showed, three singles is not as good as one home run.
Unfortunately, the Twins will have to spend all their money on retaining Mauer, not to mention Pavano and Cabrera, and it is not likely they can get a third baseman in trade for, say, Carlos Gomez and Bonser (throw in Liriano, too). Still, this team showed over the last month what it can do when it is inspired. If it remembers and plays at that level for the whole summer in the new ballpark, 2010 could be fun, indeed. We might even beat the Yankees.

Twins Win

By coincidence or not, the Twins began their improbable 17-4 stretch run the same day Justin Morneau went out for the season and I posted my negative assessment of their play to-date (see Twins at the Far Turn). Since no one read my posting, it’s likely that Morneau’s absence had the greater impact, in an addition-by-subtraction way. First, Morneau’s injured presence in the middle of the lineup was a kind of black hole, sucking life from Twins’ rallies. Second, removing the anointed rbi-man prompted others, notably Cuddyer and Kubel, to expand their roles. Finally, it provided a day-to-day consistency to the Twins lineup that paid off with the new, improved Delmon Young a fixture in left.
But as Gardy says, it all comes down to pitching, and this is where the Twins of the second half far exceeded the team of the first. Here, the biggest change was addition-by-addition. Jon Rauch suddenly gave Gardy a middle-to-late-inning righthander he could insert with confidence to back up starters who were consistently good for five or six innings, then faltered. Rauch was a clear notch above the erratic Crain and Keppel – and their performance improved under less pressure, as well.
One more change: when injury-prone Joe Crede finally went down for good, Gardy threw his lot in with Matt Tolbert, the sparkplug-type player he prefers, after bouncing the position around among Crede, Harris and Buscher for so long. And I shouldn’t forget the midseason pickup of Orlando Cabrera, who solved the first-half quandary of whom to bat second. The result: down the stretch, the Twins, for the first time in 2009, had a set lineup, and the pitchers had an established pecking order.
But still, they had a lot of ground to make up, and they couldn’t have done it without the help of the other teams in the division: the Royals and the White Sox knocked down the Tigers, and the Tigers and White Sox generally stumbled. But even when the opposition didn’t falter, the Twins excelled. Most notable was Joe Mauer’s hit against Zack Greinke on Saturday, breaking up a scoreless tie in one of the tauter, better-played games I saw all year. Even more crowd-pleasing was Cuddyer’s game-winning home run two innings later. Some of the other wins in the final week were messier; but all was rescued by the one-game playoff against the Tigers, one of the best games outside a World Series that anyone has seen.
First, the evenness of the matchup set the stage for the titanic struggle. Both teams, of course, had identical records. While the Twins held an 11-7 season edge and resulting home-field advantage, the Tigers had been in first place since May. The Twins hadn’t played particularly well most of the year and few of their fans even felt the team deserved a spot in the playoffs. Conversely, Detroit is going through such tough times as a city, how could you not root for some psychic satisfaction for their citizens? But once the game began, all that mattered was my feeling for the Twins.
The game itself is amply documented elsewhere. All I will mention are the pivotal moments that particularly resonated for me. First, almost more than the team, I wanted Mauer to win his batting title on up note. Neither of his hits were crucial (typical for the year, the Greinke at-bat aside), but by going 2-for-4 he registered the highest batting average for a catcher, ever – no small achievement. Punto and Tolbert, remnant “piranhas,” performed well: Tolbert scored a run with his baserunning and drove in the tying run in the 10th; Punto had a hit, a walk, almost drove in the winning run with his line-out to left and made a game-saving defensive play. In fact, his effort on Inge’s bounder up the middle contrasted nicely with Polanco’s inability to reach Tolbert’s harder shot to the same spot. Guerrier gave up a homer to the first batter he faced – how often have we seen that? – and Nathan turned in yet another gutsy, but dicey, save-type appearance: after allowing two hits, he escapes when a hard-hit line drive becomes a double play. After using up its best pitchers in the first 9, the Twins have to survive extra innings on the arms of Crain, Mahay and Keppel. Keppel gets his first major-league win, but not without major luck: with the bases loaded, the umpire mistakenly rules that Brandon Inge has not been hit by a pitch, then Laird strikes out swinging on a low pitch that would have been ball four. But best of all, for the 2009 Twins, are the heroes of the 12th-inning run: Carlos Gomez, in as a defensive replacement for Kubel, hooks a single to left, and is driven home by a bouncer to right by Alexi Casilla, who came in as a pinch-runner for Brendan Harris, who was hit-by-a-pitch while batting for Jose Morales. Flukey? maybe. Great baseball? definitely!

Twins at the Far Turn

Like water seeking its own level, the Twins gurgle inexorably toward a .500 finish with three weeks remaining in the 2009 season. It is not, however, the frequency with which they have followed a big win with a deflating loss that has been most frustrating. Rather, it has been the listlessness of their play, their lack of fight. If the opposing team puts together a big inning, regardless of when it occurs, it is game over.
The defining loss of the stretch run came when the Twins were one strike away from sweeping the White Sox. Joe Nathan gave up two home runs in a row, then two walks, and the Sox suddenly had a 4-2 lead. Instead of charging back, the Twins went down meekly, 1-2-3, in the bottom of the ninth. Last week the Twins held an early 3-0 lead over the Blue Jays. Out of the blue, the Jays scored six runs in the 5th. Although the Twins would have four more at-bats, you knew the game was over. And it was.
Three years ago when the “Piranhas” were biting, every game, win or lose, was exciting. The Twins scrapped. The team played “small ball,” and somehow it seemed there were always a couple runners on base. Come-from-behind wins were common. I don’t have actual statistics, but I’ll bet that the Twins’ percentage of come-from-behind wins this year is near or at league bottom.
The malaise seems general, so it is perhaps unfair to single any player out; but any discussion of the Twins starts with Justin Morneau. I have long said that the Twins will go only as far as Morneau takes them. When he is hot, they are hard to beat. When he slumps, they falter. And when he slumps, there is a depression that must infect others around him. He invariably swings at the first pitch, either thinking it the best he will see or fearing to fall behind in the count. Once he falls behind, the pitcher can toy with him: a breaking ball outside or a high fast ball will produce a strikeout or a weak fly ball.
Other than Denard Span, the other Twins are also prone to popping up on the first pitch they see, resulting in innings as short as they are futile. Joe Mauer, of course, is the exception. His ability to hit, however, is so metronomic that it becomes taken for granted. His composure helps him play the game at a very high level, but it also seemingly fails to inspire his teammates.
What to do? Although the Twins are about sticking-with-what-we’ve-got, I can’t help think that a significant shakeup is in order for next year. New manager? New hitting coach? New left side of the infield and outfield? The relief pitching was the Achilles’ heel the first half of the season, but now, if they keep Liriano in the bullpen, it could be a strength, especially if Pat Neshek can come back. Nathan, Mijares, Guerrier, Liriano, Rauch provide a solid core, with Crain, Neshek, Bonser, Keppel fighting any Minor Leaguers for the last two spots. After this year, you have to wonder about the starters, but Baker, Pavano and Slowey seem solid, especially if they only have to pitch six innings. That means finding two more from Blackburn, Perkins, Duensing and any newcomers.
So, the question remains, how to inject some spark into a bunch of regulars for whom giving up easily may have become habit-forming?
9/13/09

The RBI

In assessing a league’s MVP, no statistic is looked at more closely than the RBI: what wins games is runs, and he produces – i.e., drives in – the most runs must be the most valuable. But looked at more closely, the rbi, like many of baseball’s treasured stats, is somewhat suspect.
One, not all rbi’s are equal. The run batted in late in a close game surely should be valued more than an rbi in a blowout. Specific rbi situations could be assigned specific values – like the elements of a gymnastics floor exercise – but they aren’t.
Two, rbi opportunities are not spread around equally. Except for rbi’s via the homerun, they depend on having teammates already on the bases, preferably “in scoring position” – i.e., standing on second or third. The cleanup hitter usually leads his team in rbi’s, not only because he is inherently the best rbi-man, but because he typically bats after the teammates with the best on-base percentage. Statistically, he will have the greatest rbi opportunities on the team. A leadoff hitter, by contrast, will have the fewest, because he leads off the game and thereafter bats after the weakest-hitting teammates. A more accurate assessment of rbi value should require that the number of rbi’s be divided into the number of rbi opportunities presented. What that last figure itself should be is debatable, but let’s say it’s men-in-scoring-position for a start.
The above, of course, gets us into a bit of a chicken-and-egg debate. Is the cleanup hitter the team’s best rbi-man because he is the cleanup hitter? Or is he the team’s cleanup hitter because he is the best rbi-man? This will never be answered unless and until the stat is refined as suggested above.
P.S. The mention of “men-in-scoring-position” brings to mind a relatively new stat that has been prominently mentioned in connection with the Twins this year (2008), because they lead the majors in batting average with runners in scoring position (“risp”). The underlying basis for keeping such a figure is that, of course, runs win ballgames and hits with risp produce runs. Why this is not necessarily a valid assumption was illustrated, not for the first time, in yesterday’s Twins 6-4 loss to the Tigers. The Twins were 4-for-12 in risp situations, a healthy .333 average, well above their league-leading .311 mark. Of those 4 hits, though, one was Joe Mauer’s single in the first with two men on; the lead runner, Denard Span, was held at third. In the 9th, Alexi Casilla bunted safely, again with two men on. No run scored in that inning. The Twins, because of all their banjo hitters, undoubtedly also lead the league in hits with runners in scoring position that do not produce runs. Again, for this statistic to have real meaning, it should be tweaked, to reduce, if not eliminate, the value of hits that don’t produce runs.
The flip side of this statistic, of course, was shown in how the Tigers won the game: two homeruns with, in each case, a man on first. No hits with a runner in scoring postion, but four runs.
September 2008

The “Save”

Among official baseball statistics there are a few pure ones, like batting average. Unlike rbi, batting average doesn’t depend on what the hitters ahead of you have done, nor, unlike runs scored, on what the hitters who follow do. It is also valid as a measure of worth: someone who hits .300 will be an asset to the team; someone who hits .225 will not. By contrast, a player can hit three home runs and still be valuable, or field at a .995 clip and still be a defensive liability. But among all the impure stats, one stands out because not only is it often invalid as a measure of worth, it alone affects how the game itself is played.

The “save,” first of all, didn’t exist until 1969. Baseball got along fine for all those years without it. It was introduced to acknowledge the increasing importance of the relief pitcher; but it, in turn, has itself increased that importance. Counting the number of saves has contributed to the mystique of “the closer.” As this mystique has grown, it has become legend that “the ninth inning belongs to the closer.” As a result, there are fewer complete games than in the old days. Once the starter reaches the ninth and a save situation develops, most managers will turn to their closer now, regardless of how well the starter performed in the eighth.

The next problem involves the definition of a “save.” If you enter the 9th with a three-run lead and finish the game with your team still ahead, you get a save, regardless of how well or poorly you pitched. If you give up three hits, two walks and two runs while recording only three outs, that would give you an ERA of 18.00 but you still get a save. Take another example: your team is leading by three runs in the 9th, there are two outs, there is a runner on first. You come in, throw one pitch, the batter drives it 400 feet to deep centerfield, where the ball is caught. You get a save, because the potential tying run was on deck when you entered the game. Or worse: the ball is not caught, but the runner is thrown out at home. You have thrown one pitch, given up a double and recorded a save.

On the other hand are the Mariano Riveras and Goose Gossages who enter the 9th with a one-run lead and strike out the side for their save. The wide disparity in the degree of difficulty for different save situations and the fact that a bad performance can reap the same statistical reward as the good performance are major flaws in the save category. Another obvious problem: you can only get a save when your team is ahead near game’s end. The closer for the New York Yankees has a major head start over the closer for the Washington Nationals (see, e.g., Rivera and Gossage, cited above, not to mention Sparky Lyle).

What bothers me most, however, is the way this statistic doesn’t just reflect the game, it affects the way the game is managed. To wit, Ron Gardenhire (and he’s just my local example) generally won’t put Joe Nathan in a game unless and until it’s a save situation. If the Twins are winning 5-2 at home with two out in the bottom of the 8th, Nathan will be warming in the bullpen, ready to come in. If a Twin then hits a home run, building the lead to 6-2, Gardy will sit Nathan down and bring in a lesser reliever. (Once two batters get on base, however, Nathan will be summoned.) The only magical difference in baseball terms between a three-run and a four-run lead is that one will produce the statistical oddity of a save, while the other will not, yet it has changed the manager’s choice of pitcher.

This is not to say that Rivera, Nathan and Jonathan Papelbon are not valuable to their respective teams. It is to say, though, that the difference between Rivera, who records his saves with cold-blooded efficiency, and Nathan, who produces heartburn as often as relief, is much greater than their number of saves will reflect. I am sure that the baseball stat-heads have come up with a closer efficiency rating that takes care of all the issues I have raised (just as SI informs me of a metric called Equivalent Baserunning Runs that measures baserunning value!). For starters, I would like to see a one-run save valued more highly than a cheap three-run save, with a two-run save in between. A closer is supposed to handle pressure, and there simply is much less pressure when you are ahead by three runs in the ninth. There also should be a penalty for allowing a run, let alone two runs, in a save situation – even to the extent of eliminating the save itself. Finally, the field should be leveled between the good and bad teams by ranking closers on their save percentage, not the save total.

Maybe the manager then would pay more attention to the quality of his closer’s performance and not be so automatic in how he deploys his forces. Even if it’s too late for that, at least the fans will be given an official statistic that, if not perfect, will be less impure.
August 2009

All-Star Thrills

Another thrilling Major League All-Star Game – this one effectively decided when Ryan Howard struck out on a Joe Nathan slider in the dirt – calls to mind the superiority of baseball’s version over every other sport’s. “Superiority” is too mild a term, implying a meaningful comparison to be made, when in fact baseball’s All-Star Game is in a different league, just as the Oscars cannot really be compared to the Grammys.

            Why is this, when these are all exhibitions, and baseball’s manner of selecting its players is, if anything, more flawed than the other leagues’? For the last seven years, there has been a consequence attached to the game’s outcome: the winning league is accorded home-field advantage in the World Series. But that is at best of hypothetical importance to the players.

            No, the reason has to do with the nature of the sport. First, baseball, while a team game (as opposed to tennis and golf), consists of a series of individual confrontations, principally pitcher against batter. It’s mano-a-mano, not teamo-a-teamo. The batter’s success depends solely on his own skills, not the protection he gets from his line or the assist from his winger. He can perform to the utmost of his ability without having ever practiced with those playing around him. For examples last night, think of Joe Mauer’s line double to left; of Carl Crawford’s catch over the fence; of Albert Pujols’ diving stops; of Mariano Rivera’s total control of the ninth inning.

            Notice, also, that several of those examples involve defense. In no other sport’s all-star game does defense play the same role it does in the regular season. A hockey all-star score tends to be 7-6, instead of the more common 2-1. Basketball scores are generally in the 125 range. The unwritten rules of those games are, we’ll let you score if you let us score and we’ll just see who can score the most. The violence that is so much a part of a football defense goes aloha, by general consent, at that sport’s Pro Bowl. By contrast, last night’s 4-3 win for the American League bore all the hallmarks of a regular season, or even postseason, game.

            Defense can’t take a vacation in baseball; the sport just can’t be played that way. Even if an outfielder weren’t hardwired to make every effort to catch a fly ball hit his way, the fact that he is standing out in rightfield all by himself is a guarantee of good faith. Everyone is watching, from his peers to a national television audience. While a hitter can’t be judged from one at-bat (viz., Ryan Howard), because the pitcher he faces is such a variable, a fielder’s reputation can be made or lost in one play. And one play may be all he gets.

            In short, everyone on the field is playing his hardest, on both offense and defense. If victory is beyond the control of any one player, every player has pride at stake, and that may be the biggest motivator of all. They call it an exhibition, and everyone lauds the experience of it all. But what you do matters. Great plays at baseball’s All-Star Game are recalled for years to come. No other sport can say that.

You Can Assume a Double-Play

Another shibboleth that distorts baseball statistics says that when one runner is retired on a batted ball and a second runner is safe only because a throw is off-target or is dropped, no error will be charged. This affects, and distorts, three different statistics. First, the fielder who makes the bad throw or drops the ball does not get a blemish on his fielding percentage. This is least important, because who really cares about fielding percentage unless there is something like a 150-game errorless streak at stake. Second, if another runner scores from third on the play, the batter will get credit for an rbi, which he wouldn’t if the double-play were completed. Third, and this is the big hit, the pitcher’s ERA will be responsible not only for the runner who is safe because of the errant play, but for all the runs that wouldn’t have scored had the second out been recorded.

Are these results just? No. If a first baseman drops a throw, it shouldn’t matter that an out has already been recorded. He is just as responsible for catching the ball, and if he fails, it should be his error. But maybe the second baseman who has to pivot in the face of an onrushing runner and relay to first shouldn’t be responsible if his resulting throw is off target. But hey, he is held responsible if his bad throw allows the batter to go to second. And some pivots are harder than others. The official scorer can surely identify when a bad throw is caused by the difficulty of the play, and when it is simply the fielder’s fault. This is the same judgment he makes on any hard shot or any slow roller that the fielder flubs.

From the batter’s point of view, if he is up with the bases loaded and hits a routine double-play grounder to short, whether he gets an rbi should not depend on whether the first baseman drops the relay throw. He didn’t do his job and he shouldn’t be rewarded. Conversely, the pitcher who does his job by inducing a double-play grounder that should end the inning shouldn’t be stuck with a lot of earned runs just because the first baseman drops a throw.

In short, to say “you can’t assume a double play” has no basis in logic or practice. Any error assumes that an out would have been made if the play was properly executed. Given the right circumstances – if the shortstop or second baseman has the time and space to get off a decent and timely throw to first – there is no reason not to assume the second out, as well.

Twins Report Card

 As we reach the quarter-pole of a Twins season that I expect to be either frustrating or forgettable, here is a list of my Five Favorite Things about the team, so far:

1. Joe Mauer lining an outside strike over the shortstop’s head. His swing is so pure I don’t want to miss an at-bat. In his first month back, he has developed into a power hitter, which is great; but I don’t want him to lose that sweet stroke to left.

2. Jose Mijares pumping his fist after getting out of the eighth. It looks like the Twins have their go-to guy to get to Nathan (that’s another story), in place of the still sorely missed Pat Neshek. Mijares can throw his first two pitches in the dirt and still strike out the batter. He keeps his emotions in check until the inning ends, when he shows how pumped up he really is.

3. Denard Span coaxing a walk. What a professional hitter, and what a great lead-off example. He can take two pitches for strikes, then start fouling off good pitches and taking close ones, until suddenly it’s ball four and the Twins’ best base-stealing threat is on board.

4. Kevin Slowey painting the corners. Without overpowering stuff or any obvious strikeout pitch, he can still fan ten batters a game by consistently hitting his spots and subtly changing speeds. Unlike practically the rest of the staff, he never changes his demeanor – a cool customer and the Radke of the coming decade.

5. The Twins TV analysts breaking down the game. Perhaps emboldened by his success as pitching coach for the Netherlands, Bert Blyleven is quick to point out flaws in a Twins pitcher’s delivery; and Ron Coomer and Roy Smalley aren’t far behind in saying what’s being done right or wrong. They may be “homers,” but it almost seems their bigger allegiance is to the game, and how it should be played.

 

To round things out, how about some lowlights:

1. A middle defense that hits at or below .200. Punto and Tolbert are major disappointments, Gomez is a work-in-progress that may never get finished, and Casilla is in the minors for a reason. In place of the piranhas, this year we have the minnows.

2. An overrated Joe Nathan. Just when SI.com proclaimed him the best closer of recent years, Nathan started the Twins on their six-game skid by pitching terribly in the series-opening loss to the Yankees. Instead of inspiring confidence that the game is over when he comes in, Nathan makes me nervous with his fidgeting, sweating and sliders in the dirt. Relievers have notoriously short life spans. I fear Joe is near the end of his, but I wonder how long it will take Gardy to admit it.

3. Solo home runs. Sure, Morneau, Mauer, Kubel and Cuddyer are showing some pop, but how many of their blasts come with no one on or the game out of reach? Other than Mauer, these are all “mistake” hitters, who can usually be handled when the game is close and the pitcher is bearing down.

4. Crain and Ayala. These guys automatically give up a run per appearance. If it’s a close game, Gardy dare not use them, which means Guerrier gets worn out by August.

5. Delmon Young. Not a bad player, just not the power hitter the Twins were expecting when they gave up Matt Garza. He’s also their worst defensive player (I’d rather have Kubel in left) and doesn’t have the scrappy personality that makes the Twins fun to root for.