A Stupid Rule

On Sunday (7/11) the Twins blew a game, 7-6, to the Blue Jays when Emilio Pagan gave up two singles and a home run in the 8th inning, but the loss equally belonged to Carlos Correa, whose throw in the dirt on the back end of a sure double play allowed the Jays’ three previous runs to score. One run came in on the play, two more when the next batter hit a home run with two outs. Twins pitcher Louie Varland was charged with three earned runs, because you can’t presume a double play. In other words, if the defense gets the first out on a force, they won’t be charged with an error for not completing the double play, even if the throw from second to first clearly beats the runner. Why not? The throw from second to first is not inherently difficult; infielders practice it all the time, to the point it’s second nature. It’s not like a ground ball that’s “too hot to handle,” or a bad hop that handcuffs the infielder. It’s a play that’s totally within the control and competence of the middle infielder. If he throws wildly, or if the first baseman drops the throw, it’s an error in the mind of everyone but the official scorer. I’ve yet to hear an argument that supports this “rule,” nor can I think of any. Well, something good happened, and you can’t count on anything more. Really? It certainly affects one’s opinion of the fielder’s play, and his evaluation deserves downgrading. More humanely, it’s unfair to the pitcher, in this case Varland, who would have exited the game having given up only one run instead of three had Correa made a halfway decent throw, resulting in a major bump in his ERA. Anyone?
PS: On later thought, I expect the rule’s basis to be the situation where a fielder slightly bobbles the grounder at the start of the play and the resulting throw on to first is late or even not made. In that situation, I can understand that it is too much a judgment call whether a cleanly handled ground ball would have resulted in two outs. But when the throw clearly beats the runner and is dropped, no judgment is required to deduce that the second out should have been made and an error should be charged. (8/7)

Twins Relievers

In last week’s games, in which the Twins went 2-6, these relievers gave up runs while pitching an inning or less: Lopez, Jax, Pagan, DeLeon, Stewart, Alcala, Moran. Sands was asked to pitch multiple innings, so I’ve left him off the list. The only reliever without a bad outing was Duran, and he barely pitched because the Twins weren’t in save situations. In almost all their losses, the Twins had a lead in the 7th inning, as their starting pitching continued its stellar run and the offense did just enough. But once the lead was gone, the Twins hitters were incapable of mounting a comeback. The bullpen has done well when given a very large lead to protect, as in the 6-2 win in L.A. and today’s 7-1 win over the Giants. But each pressure situation has produced a frustrating fail. As Twins announcer Dick Bremer said today, their 2-6 record could just as easily have been 6-2–if only the reliever entrusted with the lead–and it was usually the first reliever–could have pitched a clean inning. Pagan, Lopez and Jax all had the most spectacular giveaways, while yesterday Moran and Stewart each walked in a run. Manager Rocco Baldelli must be wondering, what do I do? And the starters must be bemoaning their lost wins. Never have the Twins felt the temporary loss of Caleb Thielbar so much: he seemed solid in entering a sticky mid-game situation and putting out a fire. The Twins have to hope he can come back and pick up where he left off; that Lopez and Jax will regain some of their confidence from last year; and maybe that the Twins can pick up one or two relievers by trade deadline. (Question: what became of Blake Headrick, a lefty who impressed in his brief stint in the majors?)

Timberwolves

In their last three Playoff losses to the Memphis Grizzlies, the Minnesota Timberwolves led by double digits in the 4th quarter. All that means is that Memphis was the better team, for as long as I’ve been watching pro basketball, the only quarter that matters is the 4th. You can go further and say, all that matters is the last five minutes–or less. This is in contrast to baseball, where, once the Twins fell behind 5-0 in the first inning last night the game was basically over.

Still, there was much to be cheered about if you were a Minnesota fan. First, of course, was their entry in the Playoffs as the 7th seed, when no one predicted them to be a Playoff team this year. Just as encouraging was the performance of their two youngest players, Anthony Edwards and Jaden McDaniels, both drafted in 2020. Edwards, amazingly only 20 years old, was the best player on the court in the first half, scoring 20 points on driving layups and long three-pointers. Although not so dominant, he performed credibly the rest of the game. McDaniels, only recently back from injury, scored a season-high 24 p0ints off the bench and was ferocious on defense, as well. Their futures are bright.

The third T’wolf who distinguished himself–and there were really only three–was backup point guard Jordan McLaughlin. D’Angelo Russell bricked his first three shots and did little to ignite the offense. When McLaughlin entered the game the difference was palpable. Everyone moved with more purpose and his deft passes set up his teammates in rhythm for easy baskets. Plus, he shot 4-for-5 himself. Timberwolf coach Chris Finch obviously noticed the difference, as he replaced Russell with McLaughlin in the 4th with the game on the line. What this means for the future is anyone’s guess: I know too little of NBA economics to understand the significance of Russell’s “max” contract, but he has been a disappointment, as he was elsewhere, and if the Wolves could get value in a trade I’ll bet they would take it.

The other “max” contract belongs to Karl-Anthony Towns, who apparently earned his over the course of his best year in the pros. (I hadn’t watched a Timberwolves game before last night, but followed them daily in the paper and on highlights shows.) Towns, however, had a spotty record in these playoffs, turning in a no-show for every good performance. Last night was another clunker. Memphis used a quick double-team to stymie his offense, and you wonder if this will be a recurring problem in years to come. Moreover, he was responsible for two of the three key plays that finally turned the game in the Grizzlies’ favor: a flagrant foul on a sloppy block attempt and a misbegotten three-point effort from far out, the kind of “hero play” that Coach Finch had warned about. (The third dagger was Minnesota-native Tyus Jones’s 24-second-buzzer beater with one minute to play that turned a 1-point lead into 4.)

No one else made a significant contribution, pro or con, and by this I refer to Malik Beasley, Patrick Beverly and Jarrod Vanderbilt. Bench players who contributed substantially over the course of the season–Taureen Prince, Jaylen Nowell, Naz Reid–never left the bench, and it remains to be seen how or whether any of them–not to mention Jake Layman, Josh Okogie, Bolsenaro–will figure in the team’s future plans. One hopes that Prince and Nowell, in particular, will develop and create a solid core that can capitalize on the Playoff experience that Edwards, McDaniels and McLaughlin now have. Oh, and one hopes the T’wolves can add a rebounder: Memphis outrebounded Minnesota 56-37, including 17-6 on the offensive boards. That, better three-point shooting, and experience made the difference.

Baseball’s Future

With the drumbeat for change louder and louder, and with the field of traditionalists shrinking more each year, it seems inevitable that changes, some major, will be made to the sport of baseball in order to increase fan interest and watchability by, among other things, speeding up the game. Indeed, in my youth a two-hour game was seen as the model, with most clocking in around 2:30. Now, anything under three hours is considered unusual, and four-hour marathons are not uncommon. Beyond length, the other common objection is lack of action, as batters try for home runs, pitchers for strikeouts, and fun things like triples, hit-and-runs, bunts and steals have become rarities. Not to be left out of the discussion, therefore, I herewith offer my suggestions, as a long-time traditionalist, of changes I would like to see to save, if not improve, our former national pastime.

1. Electronic Strike Zone. Keep the home plate umpire, but have balls and strikes called by an automatic ball-strike technology. Now that every TV broadcast shows whether and where a pitch actually crosses home plate, it is frustrating for the viewer, let alone the player, when the human umpire calls a bad pitch a strike, and vice versa. It detracts, rather than adds, enjoyment to watching the game.

2. Curtail Shifts. Require a team to keep two infielders on each side of 2nd base. I was hoping that players would end the unfortunate practice of overshifting simply by hitting to the opposite field, or even bunting, but Max Kepler insists on trying to hit a home run every at bat and seeing his average fall toward .200. To the extent that the shift takes away offense, which is its purpose, it takes fun away from the game.

3. Pitch Clock. Experts say this is the surest way to speed up a game, and certainly no one enjoys watching pitchers who dawdle and belabor every delivery. If, say, the pitcher has 20 seconds from receiving the ball to delivering the next pitch, the clock runs until the pitch is thrown, not just the windup or stretch. By eliminating the pitcher’s holding the ball for five seconds to throw off the baserunner’s timing, you will also get rid of the batter’s asking for time, stepping out and starting the whole thing over. A suggestion has been made to have a clock for the batter, as well, but I don’t think that’s necessary. If the pitcher has a 20-second clock, he should be allowed to throw the pitch any time after 15 seconds, regardless of whether the batter is ready.

4. No DH. I’m the last one to come around on this, having grown up a National League follower, but the pitcher’s time at the plate is generally the least interesting part of a game. It also disrupts the action around it, hurting the chances for the number eight hitter to get a good pitch and putting a crimp in one out of every three offensive innings.

5. Eliminate Replay for Oversliding. When a baserunner beats the tag at second or third but his foot separates from the base for a split second, instant replay will show if the fielder maintained the tag and the runner then gets called out. First, this is an injustice: if the runner beats the tag he should be awarded the base. Second, it discourages the safer feet-first slide and rewards the hands-first slide, which results in injuries and is a bad model for kids. Third, it slows the game as it leads to time-consuming instant replay review. Unlike the bang-bang play at first that gets reversed, there is no satisfaction here in “getting the call right.” It’s not a call that, before instant replay, was even a part of the game. My fix: allow replay only when the umpire has called the runner out, which would prevent injustice. If the umpire doesn’t detect any separation in real time, no replay.

The Save

Traditional baseball statistics are being devalued, as their relationship to actual player value is rightly questioned. A pitcher’s won-lost record is now regularly described as unimportant. One current example is the pitcher who pitches four shutout innings in a 7-inning doubleheader game but doesn’t qualify for a win, even though, percentage-wise, he has contributed more innings to his team’s victory that the pitcher who goes five innings in a 9-inning game.
I have previously criticized the rules for a “save” as being capricious and arbitrary, and Wednesday’s Twins win over the Cubs (9/22/21) provided a glaring example. Alex Colome, the Twins’ dubious closer, was brought on in the 9th to protect a 5-2 lead, the minimum margin eligible for a save. Before recording the third out (on a swinging strikeout in the dirt), he had given up a double, two singles, a walk and three stolen bases, but only two runs. For this less-than-stellar performance he was awarded a save. The three relievers before him gave up a total of one hit and no runs, but Colome got a save, not them.

The Sano-Buxton Quandary

Ever since they appeared on Sports Illustrated’s cover in 2013, Miguel Sano and Byron Buxton have been linked as the future of the Minnesota Twins. Buxton had been rated the top high-school prospect in the country, the ultimate five-tool player, and the powerful Sano had been featured in a documentary, Pelotero, about the grooming and scouting of prospects in the Dominican Republic. Their potential seemed unlimited. Eight years later, we are still talking of their potential.
Sano broke on the scene with more early success, finishing third in Rookie-of-the-Year voting despite playing only the second half of the 2015 season and making the All-Star team in 2017. Since that game his arc has gone down, not up. He has shown up for camp overweight, appeared uninterested and uncoachable, been injured and led the Majors in strikeouts in 2020. Although he came up as a shortstop, the Twins have tried him at third, rightfield and first base, while showing evidence that his best position would be DH. Buxton, by contrast, has been glorious in centerfield, even winning the Platinum Glove as the league’s top defensive player in 2017, the only year he has played more than 100 games. And that last fact is the rub. From broken tooth to broken pinkie to injured shoulder to injured hip to concussion to whatever, Buxton has been out as much as he’s been in. Until this year he was also a strikeout machine: his 30% K-rate was well below Sano’s 37% over their careers, but both were frequent black holes in the lineup. (For comparison, Max Kepler, no more a contact hitter, has an 18% strikeout rate; Jorge Polanco is 16%, and Luis Arraez is 9%.) Sano will drive you crazy by missing the same pitch, an outside slider, by a foot, while Buxton had the unappetizing habit of staring back at the pitcher as he returned to the dugout after his whiff. More frustrations: if Buxton would only learn to bunt he could raise his batting average by 20 points. Sano could do the same by hitting to all fields, instead of trying to pull every pitch into the upper deck in left.
For all the reasons above, Twins fans on the Strib blog have been screaming for years to trade either Buxton or Sano, or preferably both. That won’t happen, if only because of the risk, shown in letting go David Ortiz a while back, of either blossoming into a superstar elsewhere. But by keeping Buxton and Sano, the Twins are stuck with 2/9ths of a lineup that stubbornly refuses to reach its potential. By relying on Buxton, the Twins find themselves playing Major League games with Gilbert Celestino, at best a AA player, starting in center. By using Sano at first base, they are slowing the development of Nick Kiriloff, their most promising rookie. At DH he would be sidelining Nelson Cruz, their best hitter, and at third base he would take the place of Josh Donaldson, their highest-paid player. On the other hand, Sano has won more games for the Twins this year with his home runs than anyone else on the team. Of course, even with that contribution, the Twins haven’t won that many games. Unlike Sano, Buxton appears to have turned a corner at the plate this year: his strikeouts are down, his home runs are up, and his confidence level is obviously higher. In years past, Sano and Buxton were both mistake-hitters and bad-ball swingers. This year, Buxton is no longer always in an 0-2 count and has shown variety in his hits, albeit still without bunts.
So, the Twins are faced with a dilemma. If they keep Buxton and Sano, there’s a good chance neither will ever get better, and between Sano’s strikeouts and Buxton’s injuries the Twins will be weighed down with their big contracts and an increasingly tepid fan base. When you play rookies, fans can at least project and dream; when you watch Sano flail at pitches with the bases loaded you get dejected. But if you let them go, and either has the season that was projected for them in 2013, what will that reaction be? I’d say the Twins front office has about a 25% chance of getting this right, and I’m glad it’s not my decision.

PS: In November the Twins signed Buxton to a 7-year, $100 million contract, with incentives for performance. This strikes me as a good deal. As mentioned, they had to keep him and this contract doesn’t break the bank. If he turns into a superstar, it will be a bargain.

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!

On Watching Soccer

The month-long drama of the World Cup – and, indeed, it is drama! – is giving me an appreciation of international soccer (“football,” to the rest of the world) and one very significant way it differs from American sports, or at least the way Americans watch sports. The big difference: games are often decided by something other than which team plays best, and everyone accepts that. When Portugal lost to Uruguay, Cristiano Ronaldo calmly said, in his post-game news conference something to the effect of, “I thought we were the better team today, but they scored more goals, and that’s football.”
In the games I’ve watched, relatively few goals have been scored by players passing the ball to each other until someone shoots it in the net. First, there have been a record number of “own goals,” where a player inadvertently causes the ball to go into his own net. Next, an inordinate number of goals come from penalty kicks, which more often than not result from an insignificant hand ball or foul – “insignificant” in that the play would not otherwise have resulted in a score, or even a scoring chance. Third, a good number of goals come off free kicks and corner kicks, which again involve plays that otherwise would not have produced a score. Hitting a ball off an opponent so that it goes across the end line is a whole lot easier than hitting it through the defense and past a goalie.
You can say that the better team is more likely to get more corner kicks, free kicks and penalty chances, and that is true and the law of averages would play out in a game that ended up, say, with a 5-3 score. But the last four World Cup matches have been 0-0 at the half, and one goal is often all that is needed for a victory.
In past World Cups there was also the issue of human fallibility in the form of the referee, who might or might not see a hand ball, who might or might not think a challenge in the box warranted a penalty kick, and soccer fans all recognized that this was an integral part of the game. Now the World Cup has added instant replay, or VAR (Video Assistant Referee), which all but eliminates the prospect of egregious blunders. On the other hand, it has increased the chances of calling fouls that would have escaped the naked eye, much like instant replay in baseball that reveals a base runner momentarily losing contact with a base.
In baseball, basketball and football, one team can exert its superiority (for that day) over the course of a game; it is unlikely that one fluke play will determine the outcome. If it does, the American fan will feel aggrieved and complain bitterly that he was robbed. In soccer, the fan will shrug and say, “that’s football.”
I could point to any number of games to support my thesis, but I’ll just mention the most recent game I watched, England v. Colombia. England was methodical, Colombia flashy, but the course of play mattered little. England’s one goal combined three of the factors mentioned above: a corner kick, a referee’s interpretation and a penalty kick. The 1-0 score held until the last few seconds of stoppage time, when Colombia scored off a corner kick. The game was then decided by yet another matter of chance more than skill: a penalty kick shoot-out. I say “chance,” because a goalie’s ability to thwart a penalty is solely a result of his guessing where the shooter will aim.
Or I could point to today’s other game, in which Sweden defeated Switzerland, 1-0, when a Swedish player’s shot deflected off a Swiss leg into the goal, despite Switzerland’s controlling play for more than 60% of the game. There have been some great goals resulting from wonderful team play, but just as often there has been luck. Only it’s not considered luck. It’s considered football.
Postscript:
I watched a half-dozen more games without any new revelation or any reason to adjust my analysis. Take only the example of today’s final, won 4-2 by France over Croatia: France’s first goal came off a set piece set up by what the commentators called a dive just outside the penalty area and it went in, an own goal, off a Croatian head. France’s second goal was a penalty kick, resulting from an accidental hand ball. Croatia controlled a majority of the play and, again in the commentator’s words, played better. France’s play, he thought, was disappointing; but they scored four goals – a rarity in the tournament – and therefore won. What a sport!

May Birds ’18-’19

Warblers were scarce in Central Park this spring (2019), although I hear that I missed the best day, May 16. I never came across a “wave”: I generally spotted isolated individuals and never saw more than eight species a day. If there was a highlight, it was coming across 2 Canada and 1 Mourning Warbler on a late trip to the park, May 29, and the continuing sound of Blackpolls the last week of May. The Mourning – which I’ve seen only once before, briefly, with Paul Egeland at 3610 Northome Rd – jumped up to the border fence along a path, then quickly flew off into the brush toward the lake. His gray head contrasting sharply with olive back was vivid. The first Canada I saw was a singing male, just west of Azalea Pond. Otherwise, the dominant sound, apart from the Robins, was the song of the Wood Thrush, back and forth through the woods. All month, the thrushes were prominent – Veery, Hermit and Swainson’s in addition to Wood, and I tentatively identified a Gray-Cheeked, based on its lack of eye-ring and any auburn coloring around the cheek and throat. There was one warbler that arrived en masse: the Ovenbird. At one point (5/14?) they were so underfoot it was hard not to step on them.

2018: May is, appropriately, the season for the May Apple in the Central Park Ramble, also the Virginia Bluebell. And May is the time the warblers, at least this year with its late spring, arrive species-by-species, with the males in the vanguard. On May 1 I counted four warblers, led by the easy-to-spot Black and White. The highlight of May 2 was watching three species in full song: Prairie, Black-throated Blue and Northern Waterthrush. Today the Park was alive with the song of the Northern Parula, which I pronounce by accenting the first syllable while the consensus seems to have settled on the second. Just like I say “Plover” rhymes with “hover,” while others prefer “clover.” The other new treats were close and prolonged views of the Magnolia and Black-throated Green, both quiet. You do wonder about warbler names: have I ever seen a Magnolia in such a tree? and where is the “green” on the Black-throated Green? So far, I’m up to 14 warbler species, with many obvious, and some less so, to come. Interestingly, the flood of Yellow-Rumps that usually precede the warbler wave by a week showed up just today.
In other bird news, today I saw my first Chimney Swift of the year. From my birding in the ‘60s I associate Chimney Swifts with Memorial Day and the end of spring. Great Crested Flycatchers, too. Maybe this fellow was early. Or maybe it’s climate change.
May 6 was cool and gray, and both birds and birders, despite its being Sunday, were sparse. I saw 10 warbler species, but for most it was a single example. The newcomer was the Chestnut-sided: there were a couple and they were singing. High in an oak I saw a Rose-breasted Grosbeak and an Indigo Bunting, but the wave, if there is to be one, is still to come.

The “Quality Appearance”

Baseball these days can seem overrun with statistics – Batting Average with Runners in Scoring Position and Two Outs, for example – yet records for pitchers all seem to me fundamentally flawed. Which is why I am proposing a new, more meaningful, one, which I will get to in a minute. First, however, a recap of some existing flaws.
For years, Won-Lost has been the gold standard for pitchers. The first problem, though, is that its validity is largely limited to starting pitchers, the only ones who routinely have some control over a game’s outcome. The emphasis, however, must be on “some.” We are all familiar with the “hard-luck loser,” who pitches eight innings, allows one measly run, yet suffers a 1-0 defeat. (Last night the Indians’ Josh Tomlin surrendered a first-pitch, first-inning opposite-field home run to the Twins’ Miguel Sano and suffered that fate.) The flip side is the lucky winner, who gives up five runs in five innings, yet records a win because his teammates have clobbered the opposing pitcher for more. Sometimes this averages out over the course of a season, but sometimes it doesn’t. Then there is the disparity among offenses. A pitcher for a hitting-starved team could give up three runs a game and finish with an 8-12 won-lost record; while his counterpart for a powerhouse could allow the same number of runs and wind up 12-8.
The next most recognized statistic is Earned Run Average, which would show the equivalence of the two pitchers in the above example. This statistic in theory should also work for relief pitchers as well as starters, and it has the advantage of not being dependent on the hitting success of the pitcher’s team. Its weakness, though, is its failure to account for situational pitching, which is crucial in evaluating a relief pitcher’s value. By “situation” I mean both the stage of the game – is the scored 7-2 in the eighth inning, or 3-2 in the ninth? – and the situation within the inning. A reliever who enters the game with two outs and the bases loaded and gives up a triple is a failure, yet his ERA will go down if he gets the next batter out. Conversely, the pitcher who let those three runners reach base while getting two outs will see his ERA soar, even though no one scored while he was pitching. The other problem with judging a reliever by his ERA is that one bad outing can skew it, because relievers pitch so few innings compared to starters. (Last night the Twins brought in Matt Belisle with one out, one on in the eighth inning of a 1-0 game despite an unheard-of ERA north of 11.00, precisely because that figure bore little connection to his perceived reliability.)
I have written elsewhere about the Save, the least useful number of all. 1) It only is relevant for the usually one pitcher per team who gets to pitch the ninth inning. 2) The number depends on his team’s success rate – only the winning team can record a save. 3) The criteria are too loose to be meaningful: a reliever can give up two runs in the only inning he pitches (an ERA rate of 18.00) and still get a save.
Because of the overemphasis on Saves, some baseball writers in 1986 came up with the Hold as a way of recognizing the effectiveness of middle relievers, who don’t get Save opportunities. Although routinely included in game box scores, the Hold is not an officially recognized statistic and there is some confusion as to what qualifies. The first prerequisite is the existence of a Save situation – so right there, it incorporates the weaknesses of that stat. The second requirement is that the reliever hand over pitching duties to the next reliever with his team still in the lead – which means, similar to the Save defect, that a reliever could load the bases while recording only one out and earn a Hold despite doing a lousy job.
So, what would be a more useful measure of a pitcher’s – specifically, a reliever’s – performance? Say ‘hello’ to the QA – the Quality Appearance. A reliever earns a QA by recording three or more outs without giving up a run, including the runners he inherits and the runners he puts on base. Alternatively, if he enters a game with two or more men on base, and he records two outs, ends an inning and no one scores. That, after all, is what really matters – keeping the other team from scoring. This statistic has the advantage of applying whether a team is ahead or behind. After all, when a team is behind 3-2 late in the game, it is crucial to their chances of winning that they not give up another run; and the pitcher who holds that margin is doing just as important a job as the pitcher who is credited with a Hold. Yes, there are some flaws: a pitcher could lose a QA by giving up a run in a second or third inning of work, although the rule could be refined to cover that, if desired. And what happens to runners that a pitcher puts on base before he is relieved will depend on the relievers who follow. Not every good relief effort will be recognized, but many more will, and more fairly than either the Save or the Hold currently does.