Twins Preview

Past performance is no guarantee of future results. The Minnesota Twins are coming off one of their best-ever regular seasons and a pretty darn good offseason, too. They added Josh Donaldson, their highest-paid free agent ever, with his 3rd-base defense and 36 homers, to their offense, which set a Major League record for home runs; and three veteran starting pitchers to their somewhat suspect rotation. What’s not to like?

Applying some typical Minnesota sports negativity, let me count the ways: Luis Arraez could have a sophomore slump instead of hitting .400. Mitch Garver could wear down from having to catch more than last year with Jason Castro gone. Eddie Rosario could repeat the second half of last year instead of the first, when he momentarily led the league in homers. Miguel Sano, after his late start and faced with a short season, might never find his timing. Byron Buxton could get hurt (this is a near certainty). Nelson Cruz could start to show his age (40). Josh Donaldson could have a year like 2018 instead of 2019 (there’s a reason he qualified, after all, as Comeback Player of the Year). Jorge Polanco could fail another drug test. The three new starters – Rich Hill, Kenta Maeda and Homer Bailey (an unfortunate name for a pitcher) – are all on the wrong side of 30, and there’s probably a reason their former teams let them go. The bullpen is the Twins’ unacknowledged strength, but everyone knows that relief mastery can disappear without warning (see, e.g., Trevor Hildenberger last year) or arise from nowhere (see, e.g., Ryan Pressley from last year); so my confidence in Taylor Rogers, Tyler Duffey, Trevor May and Sergio Romo may be misplaced.

A full baseball season is one of sport’s great unpredictables. Whether a 60-game season will admit of as many twists, turns and rookie sensations is anyone’s guess. But one certainty in every sport is the impact of injuries, which should be many times magnified in 2020. Not only have the players had a shorter time to get their bodies ready for the season – a threat to pitchers’ arms and baserunners’ legs – but the compressed schedule (the Twins have only two days off all summer) could accentuate that problem. And oh, have you heard about Covid-19? Talk about unpredictability: not only could the pandemic sideline a star on game day, it could jeopardize an entire team, not to mention the whole enterprise.

With all that being said, I am looking forward to once again following the soap opera of a baseball season. It would be nice if the Twins built on their success of last year. It would be even nicer if they found a way to beat the Yankees, in the regular season or the postseason. But come what may, I’ll be watching.

Stealing Signs

Major League Baseball came down hard on the Astros’ GM and manager because of a perception problem and that’s whom they could punish. Jeffrey Luhnow and A.J. Hinch apparently didn’t instigate or even encourage their coaches or players to use the video-replay monitor to steal the opposing catcher’s signs, but it occurred on their watch, so they have to go. My guess is that any attempt to penalize the players who actually did this would have run up against the players’ union, which would have been messy and taken much longer. Also, as I kept reading around World Series time last year, a lot of people in baseball don’t like the Astros’ management, which probably made this a little easier.

Is stealing signs really so bad? This is not the Chicago Black Sox scandal: no one was throwing games or giving less than their full commitment to winning. In fact, stealing signs has a long tradition in baseball; certain old-timers were famous for their prowess in this regard. There is no rule against the runner on second relaying information to the batter if he can somehow figure out the catcher’s signs. At the same time, I am often told, many batters don’t want to receive this information. It’s one more thing – perhaps one thing too many – to think about when you’re at the plate and you have to be able to adjust to a pitch’s location and speed, not just its type. And there’s always the chance the information provided will be wrong – which will really mess you up if you’re relying on it. The Astros’ alleged means of transmission – banging on a trash can – hardly seems foolproof. “Just let me hit,” seems a more sensible attitude.

No, it is only the use of electronic equipment to steal signs that is prohibited. You can see why MLB, with the ever-increasing sophistication of electronic equipment, wants to quash this practice in its infancy. It also, justifiably, wants to present a squeaky-clean image after seeing the public-relations messes the NFL has been in recently over video-taping other teams’ practices and such trivialities as taking an ounce of air pressure out of a football. Opposing fans will see to it that any plausible controversy will not die. And of course I should mention Baseball’s own bad handling of the steroid era, the taint of which still hangs around every time the Hall of Fame has a vote.

I doubt the stigma will prevent Hinch from managing again, perhaps after a coaching stint, given the high turnover rate among Major League managers, not to mention the willingness of owners to hire retreads (e.g., Gardenhire, Ron).  And managers will henceforth be vigilant in supervising how the game’s video feed is monitored and used. But in all, baseball is just a game played by boys, some older than others, and boys will be boys. If you can get away with something, somebody will try it. Spitballs, corked bats, phantom tags, pretending the pitch hit you – where you draw the line is a question of personal morality and often depends on whether it’s your team or the other guys who are doing it.

World Series 2019

As a Twins fan, I found my heart pulling for the more familiar Astros, although my mind favored the Nationals for all the obvious reasons: they were the underdogs, the Astros’ executives were arrogant and sexist, and, believing in the principle of distribution, Washington, D.C. had not had a winner since 1924!
With travel and social commitments I was only able to watch sporadically but didn’t feel I missed much. The games themselves were almost uniformly disappointing, with lopsided final scores of 12-3, 8-1, 7-1, 7-2. Even the climactic Game Seven, which was a nailbiter through seven innings, ended up a 6-2 runaway. What you want in a World Series are games that go down to the last out, the best hitter against the best pitcher with the game on the line. Mazeroski hitting a homer in the 10th; McCovey lining out to Richardson; Joe Carter, Kirk Gibson, etc. Here, the big blow was a “cheap” (because not that long and almost slicing foul) two-run homer by journeyman Howie Kendrick off an undistinguished reliever, Will Harris. And then, rather than mount a comeback, the Astros fell apart, including a run-scoring error by their defensive replacement in centerfield.
Still, all credit to a Nationals team that entered the playoffs as a wild card, won five elimination games and amazingly won four games in Houston. It makes you wonder if future teams will work so hard to obtain “home-field advantage.” There are several other takeaways.
1. Anthony Rendon is a legitimate Star. He got big hit after big hit, including the momentum-swinging home run off Zach Greinke in the 7th, only Washington’s second hit of the game. For all the fuss and furor over Manny Machado last year, I would take Rendon over Machado in a heartbeat.
2. Juan Soto is scary. He only turned 21 during the Series, yet the Astros pitchers were clearly afraid to pitch to him – and when they did it was usually a mistake. Maybe opposing teams will figure something out, or maybe he won’t have the same success against lefties, but for now his future looks golden.
3. Trea Turner and Adam Eaton are scrappy speedsters, fun to watch, in the middle of interesting and unusual on-field action. (Why do I think they look like LA Dodgers?)
4. The Nationals probably won’t be a dynasty. For starters, they have the oldest squad in the Majors. Then, every time we think a dynasty is starting, it doesn’t happen. Think of the Cubs with Bryant and Rizzo; the Red Sox with Betts and Boegarts; now the Astros with Altuve and Bregman. Scherzer and Strasburg were great, but it’s hard not to worry that their best days – or injury-free seasons – are not behind them.
5. The electronic strike zone can’t come soon enough. My personal view is that Game 7, and thus the entire Series, swung on a missed strike call. After Rendon’s homer, Greinke had a 2-1 count on Soto when his pitch at the knees was called a ball. Greinke couldn’t believe the call, and the box on TV showed the pitch entirely in the strike zone, not just on the border. Whether flustered or having to pitch more carefully in the 3-1 hitter’s count, Greinke walked Soto. That led manager AJ Hinch to remove Greinke, who had given up only two hits and thrown only 80 pitches. On reliever Harris’s second pitch, Kendricks hit his home run and took the life out of Houston. We’ll never know if, pitching 2-2, Soto would have been more anxious, and Greinke could have thrown one of his drooping curves and retired him. Then, if Greinke had finished the 7th, Hinch surely would have brought in Gerrit Cole to pitch the 8th and 9th, and the story today would be different.
6. One of baseball’s worst rules was exposed when Turner was called out for interference in Game 6 as he, the first baseman’s glove and the ball arrived simultaneously a foot before first base. The glove flew off, the ball wasn’t caught and Turner should have been safe. Turner ran a direct line from his batter’s box to the middle of the bag, yet the rule would require him to run a zig-zag to first, moving to foul territory before returning to fair territory, where the base is located. More to the point is the justice of the situation: Turner was penalized for doing nothing wrong, while the defense was rewarded for making an off-target throw and missing a catch. When a rule, however well-intentioned, results in a wrong, it should be changed, and it easily could be. For starters: There can be no interference when the runner is within one step of the base (which is what the TV announcers thought the rule said).

A Save Anomaly

The Twins were leading the A’s 4-1 starting the 9th. Enter Sam Dyson in a “save” situation. He retires none of the four batters he faces, giving up a single, double and two walks, leaving the game with the bases loaded, no outs and a 4-2 score. Enter Taylor Rogers, who proceeds to strike out the side after giving up one hit that scores two runs and ties the game. Clearly, Sam Dyson has blown a sure win for the Twins, and his ERA will show that he gave up 3 runs; but for his trouble he gets a “hold (H)” next to his name in the box score, merely because his team was still ahead when he departed. Conversely, Rogers, who made the best of the fraught situation he inherited, gets a “BS” – blown save.
This anomaly repeated itself Labor Day with the Twins on the winning side this time. Ahead 3-2, the Tigers brought in Buck Farmer to start the 8th. He gave up a walk and two singles, leaving with the bases loaded but no runs scored, so he was awarded a “hold.” The next pitcher gave up one hit, resulting in two runs scoring. He, not Farmer, got the “blown save” – although Farmer, incongruously, received the loss to go along with his hold!

The Problem Called the Shift

Data analytics having taken over baseball-think in 2019, there’s scarcely a team that hasn’t committed to shifting its infielders at the slightest suggestion of a pull hitter at the plate. Three infielders on one side of second base is no longer reserved, as it was in my youth, for Ted Williams. My observations are based solely on watching Minnesota Twins games this year, but so far I can say that I Hate the shift.
1. and least important is the traditionalist complaint: it dilutes and distorts the classic alignment and function of the nine defensive positions.
2. it’s not helping the Twins: Maybe someone is keeping track, but it seems to me that Twins hitters, especially Max Kepler, have been deprived of many more hits than the opposition.
3. it exposes a modern-day failing: it should be easy to get on base by hitting, or better yet, bunting, against the shift. I saw Eddie Rosario, early in the year, square around and bunt a pitch toward third base, where no one was playing. He could have walked to first, and in fact almost had the chance to stretch it to a double. With hits so hard to come by – the best hitters make outs 7 out of 10 times – why not take what the defense gives you? Either players don’t want to, because they’re so intent on hitting a home run, or they haven’t learned to bunt or hit to the opposite field – old-school skills that used to be a part of learning to play the game but are seldom seen anymore. (I can’t remember the last time the Twins tried a hit-and-run.)
4. this is the big one: there will always be ground balls that make it through the infield for hits, but against a standard defense the ball has to be fairly well hit. When the infield is in the shift, a weakly hit ball against the shift is automatically a base hit, because there is no one there to field it. How discouraging to the pitcher who makes a great pitch, only to have the hitter flail and hit a nubber…to no one.
My Solution: Earlier this year there were rumors that Major League Baseball might consider implementing a rule requiring two infielders to be positioned on either side of second base. Other sports – including the NFL and NBA – add and change rules with some frequency, so it can be done, even if baseball has been slow to follow their lead. I haven’t heard much discussion lately, compared to conjecture about an electronic strike zone or adding a 26th player to the roster.
The other solution is the natural one: convincing players to beat the shift on their own, by bunting and punching balls to the other field. Not only could they pick up easy hits, they would force the other team out of the shift, opening up the normal holes. For every action there’s a reaction, and I hope this particular pendulum will start swinging back, returning baseball to the grand old game I so love.

The “Quality” Save

According to Wikipedia, a sportswriter in 1985 coined the term “quality start” and defined it as a pitcher’s completing six innings while surrendering three or fewer runs. Whether this is an “official” statistic – whatever that might mean – I have no idea. I have also been unable to learn whether such a quality start loses its quality if the pitcher in question gives up a fourth run after the sixth inning. Many commentators have criticized the standard as too lenient, pointing out that allowing a run every other inning isn’t so great, and a 4.50 ERA is only acceptable for a team’s fifth starter. But decades of computer analysis have shown that the pitchers with the most quality starts are invariably the best pitchers by every other measure, so the concept, meaningless or not, has lingered.
The save, by contrast, has been an official Major League statistic since 1969, although it has been refined in the years since. It can be earned in several ways, but the most common is by finishing a win while pitching the 9th inning with a lead of three runs or less. The creation and glorification of this statistic led to the emergence of a specific position on every roster: the “closer.” Modern analytics-driven managers have recently started to deviate, but for many years – certainly every year that Ron Gardenhire was managing the Twins – every time a team entered the 9th with a three-run lead or less, the manager brought in the closer. Conversely, if the lead exceeded three runs, another pitcher would be used – even if the lead had been three and the closer had been warming up. This mindless worship of the Save obscured the fact that this statistic was arbitrary and relatively meaningless. It also led to hugely inflated salaries for those relievers who had been anointed closers.
To take the obvious example: a reliever enters in the 9th with a 3-0 lead and gives up two runs before recording the final out. He should be rewarded for this? Apparently I am not the first to notice this, as Wikipedia informs that in 2000 Rolaids, which gives reliever awards, came up with the “tough save,” when the reliever enters the game with the tying run on base. Never having heard of this, however, I shall assume this idea went nowhere.
My idea is to introduce, instead, the “quality save,” to correspond to the quality start. My test would be simple: if the reliever faces the potential tying run without being responsible for any of the runners on base and finishes the game while maintaining a lead. (The aforementioned “tough” save specified having the tying run on base; but as baseball has evolved and the home run has become so prevalent, I consider the situation sufficiently perilous if the tying run is at the plate.) This not only eliminates the no-stress three-run, one inning save, it eliminates the save when the reliever starts the 9th with a two-run lead. He can allow a run and still record an official save; he just won’t get a quality save. If a reliever is asked to pitch only one inning and he can’t do it without allowing a run, it’s not a quality effort – period.
As with every iteration of a save rule – and there have been many, both official and unofficial – there is another situation that makes my simple rule not so simple, and it involves a reliever’s entering the 9th with runners already on base. If he has a four-run lead but the bases are loaded, he will be facing the potential tying run – thus making him eligible for my quality save. What if he allows all three runners to score but still preserves the victory? How does that count as “quality”? Still, his assignment is infinitely more challenging than that of the reliever who faces a clean slate. If the latter can give up two hits and a walk and still record a quality save, why shouldn’t the former be able to, as well?
The other problem with quantifying a closer’s saves and listing league leaders for the category is that the playing field is not level (see my earlier post on rbi’s). Obviously, a pitcher can only get a save if his team is winning; therefore, the teams that win the most will inevitably offer their closer many more save opportunities than the Miami Marlins, who are usually behind in the 9th inning. A better statistic than total saves is percentage of saves converted. Commentators do mention this – e.g., Blake Parker has converted 10 of 11 save opportunities for the Twins this year – but there is no listing by percentage. Maybe this could be an addendum; and maybe the same should be done for stolen bases.

The Shift

The trend toward analytics in baseball has led teams to employ infield shifts with a regularity new to the game, and I can’t say I approve. It is not so much the hits I see taken away from my favorite Twins, such as Max Kepler, as the hits I see a shift giving to the opposition. If I were a pitcher and I got Albert Pujols to hit a weak grounder to the spot where the second baseman normally stands, and it rolls into right field for a hit because there is no one there, I’d be frustrated and pissed at my coaches. I didn’t keep scientific count, but I felt the Twins were being hurt far more often than they were being helped by shifting their infielders in the games I watched. More annoying: when a hitter beat the shift by intentionally hitting the other way, the Twins kept the same shift on when that batter next hit, as if to say, it’s not the shift’s fault.
There was talk earlier in the season about a potential future rules change, requiring two infielders to be positioned on either side of second base. My hope is that the players will remove shifts from the game themselves, by hitting away from the shift or even – as Eddie Rosario did once (but why only him and only once?) – by bunting toward third base when no one’s there. The other way to beat the shift, which seems to be the Twins’ main strategy, is to hit over it, into the stands. That, of course, was the strategy long employed by Ted Williams.

Hope Springs Eternal

One game does not a season make, any more than spring training should be used to judge a team’s prospects. That said, the Twins’Opening Day 2-0 win over Cleveland gave me a lot to be hopeful about for the 2019 season. Six things in particular.

1. Jose Berrios pitched like the ace the Twins claim he is. The second half of last year’s season, plus some of his spring training efforts worried me that he would only be good, not great, but going head-to-head with Corey Kluber and tossing almost eight innings of two-hit ball was exciting. If he can become a true ace, it will only raise the level of the other starters around him.

2. Byron Buxton’s ringing double. Buxton led the team in hitting in spring training, but we’ve seen that before, only to have him flame out when the real games began. Not only did he break up Kluber’s no-hitter with the Twins’ hardest hit of the day, he seemed able to lay off the outside breaking balls he has routinely flailed at in the past. The Strib said if Buxton hits .240 he will be a real asset; I’m hoping more for .260.

3. The free agents all contributed. Outside of Buxton’s double, the only Twins hits were by their big-ticket free agent acquisitions, Nelson Cruz, C.J. Cron and Marwin Gonzalez, but they all came in the 7th inning, producing the day’s only runs. (Jonathan Schoop, the fourth free-agent starter, was HBP in the same inning, although nothing came of it.) Two of the hits were of the broken-bat variety, but still… Last year’s disappointing season was at least partially attributable to the failings of that year’s free agents: Logan Morrison, Lance Lynn, Addison Reed and others.

4. Taylor Rogers. The Twins’ bullpen is an unknown, unproven quantity, but Rogers was impeccable the last half of 2018, and he was stellar closing out the Indians: 4-up, 4-down, 3 Ks. Whether he becomes the Twins’ closer – or whether they even anoint a closer – if he can stay solid it will give everyone more confidence.

5. Rocco Baldelli. All he did, I suppose, was pull Berrios for Rogers at exactly the right time, but it gives everyone on the Twins a fresh start to have a new, young manager in place.

6. The core four. Max Kepler, Jorge Polanco, Eddie Rosario and Jason Castro are the four holdovers from last year who form the base to which the free agents have been added. They did next-to-nothing against Kluber, but there is every expectation they will break out in games to come. Rosario and Kepler, especially, just received long-term contracts and are batting lead-off and clean-up in Baldelli’s order. They are at the age where they can no longer be rated on their potential; this is the year they need to produce.

7. Cleveland just did not look particularly intimidating. The Twins won’t compete with the Yankees or Red Sox or Astros, but all they need do is beat out the Indians and they’re in the playoffs, where anything can happen.

Of course, Opening Day gave us no hint of the Twins’ bench strength or the remainder of their pitching staff; so from here on it’s speculation. Tyler Austin and Jake Cave are legitimate long-ball threats; while Ehire Adrianza and Mitch Garber are both reliable. Willans Astudillo is simply exciting. Unfortunately, one or two will be optioned or released if and when Miguel Sano earns back a starting job and Baldelli needs a 12th pitcher. Simply put: if Sano can come back and play to his potential, the Twins should win their division.

I am mildly confident about the starting rotation of Jake Odorizzi, Kyle Gibson and Michael Pineda. I’ve never seen Martin Perez, but reports from spring training were encouraging, and if he falters there are prospects in the minors who could blossom. One fun part of every baseball season is the success of some rookie you never heard of or counted on. If the Twins are lucky, they won’t need one this year.

All-Star Game ’18

Based on the 8-6 final score and the AL win, you’d think I enjoyed this year’s All-Star Game. It was, however, a total bore. Almost all the scoring came on solo home runs, which made me realize that is one of the least interesting plays in baseball – certainly the least interesting run-producing play. There is no anticipation, no drama, no involvement by the other 16 players. How much more exciting it is when there are runners on first and third and one out. Anything can happen, any outcome is possible, every fielder has to be on their toes. Add to that the on-field interviews, which reminded the viewer that this was not a real game, just an exhibition. Then – and this has been an issue for decades – the implicit need to get everyone in the game means that when the game is on the line, it’s being decided not by the big names, but by the guy who’s there because the San Diego Padres have to be represented.

One Play (Astros 2-Yankees 1)

For those who underestimate the relevance of in-game managing and coaching decisions, the final play of last night’s 2-1 Astros’ win over the Yankees offers a lot to talk about. The situation: one out, the marvelous Jose Altuve on first base, game tied 1-1 bottom of the 9th, Aroldis Chapman pitching to Carlos Correa, who had already provided the Astros’ run with a homer, the count 3-2. First decision: do you send Altuve on the pitch? He’s a good basestealer, and Chapman has neither a good pickoff move nor a quick delivery home. On the flip side: Chapman throws 100 mph+, so the ball gets home quickly, Yankee catcher Gary Sanchez has a strong arm, and Chapman gets most of his outs by strikeout. I would have taken a gamble and sent him: worst case, a strikeout-throw-out doubleplay, the inning is over and you go to extras. But if the batter strikes out and Altuve stays at first, you’ve got two outs, a runner on first, Chapman throwing 100 and very little chance of getting two more hits before a third out. But Astros manager A.J.Hinch did not send the runner.
As it happens, Correa lines a shot into the gap between center and rightfield and Altuve takes off. Aaron Judge cuts the ball off and quickly throws to second base, where Correa arrives barely before the throw (two decisions we can also dissect). Third-base coach Gary Pettis, meanwhile, is windmilling Altuve home, even though the ball is approaching the infield before Altuve gets to third. Yankee shortstop Didi Gregorius fields Judge’s throw, realizes, perhaps with astonishment, that Altuve is still running, and fires home, where his throw arrives well before Altuve. The throw, however, is in the dirt, Sanchez has the same difficulty handling it he does with pitches in the dirt, Altuve slaps home plate with his left hand and the Astros win.
While Altuve and Correa are the acknowledged stars of this victory, what about the decision by Pettis to send Altuve home, on what could be described as a suicide mission? A decent throw by Gregorius – not that hard from second base – or a deft catch by Sanchez and Altuve would not only be out, but every second-guesser would have been blaming the idiot third-base coach. Why sacrifice a men-on-second-and-third-with-one-out situation for the off-chance that the Yankees would screw up? I would have held Altuve at third. But again, if Altuve had been running with the pitch, he would have scored, probably easily. So, the third-base coach’s daring was making up for the manager’s lack!
This, however, isn’t the end of the discussion, as I learned while watching ESPN this morning. Their baseball commentator Eduardo Perez laid the blame for the Astros’ game-winning play on Judge’s throw to second base – a “fundamental error,” according to Perez. Instead of throwing to second to try to get Correa – whose status as a baserunner was irrelevant – the outfielder should have thrown to the cutoff man who was better positioned to stop Altuve, the only runner who mattered. (Why this is so is not altogether clear but I believe goes like this: a throw to the cutoff man would be more directly lined up toward home, and Judge’s portion of the relay would be shorter: he was throwing slightly off balance as he caught Correa’s hit while running away from home plate. I don’t know how to compare the arm of the cutoff man, Starlin Castro, with Gregorius’s, although the latter is well regarded. Further, the cutoff man would not have been impeded by Correa’s stand-up slide as Gregorious was – a point argued vainly by Yankee manager Joe Girardi, seeking a reversal ruling – but that would not have figured into Judge’s decision.)
Not part of any discussion is the fourth decision, that of Correa to try to reach second base. There would seem to be no advantage to the Astros in his doing so: only Altuve’s run mattered. Yes, he could keep his team out of a double-play situation, but he could just as easily steal second on an ensuing pitch, it being unlikely the Yankees would try to stop him. In either case, the Yankees would be able to intentionally walk a batter to set up the double play. There was little to gain, but much to lose. Were Correa to be thrown out, Altuve would be on third with two outs, instead of one out, and a much, much lower probability of then scoring. Knowing, as he should have, that his run meant nothing, Correa should have stayed as far away from the action as he could. Contrary to this baseball logic, however, Correa beat the throw from the outfield and his slide got in the way, quite legally, of Gregorius’s ability to step toward home when he threw. This undoubtedly contributed to the throw’s ending up in the dirt. There is no way, however, that Correa could have foreseen this result when he rounded first. It’s unlikely he knew that Altuve would try to score, nor would he have known that Judge would throw to second or that his slide might impede Gregorius. I am sure that he was just acting on his baseball instinct: he hit a ball into the gap, which allowed him to try for an extra base.
In short, there were four discrete decisions that influenced the one key play that determined last night’s winner. That, even more than the one matter of faulty execution, is what makes baseball such an endlessly fascinating game.