ARod checks a box

Michael Kay had a smart reaction to the hand-written apology Alex Rodriguez dropped today.

It was a little silly that ARod scrawled the mea culpa across a couple sheets of paper pilfered from an office printer. But in releasing a written statement, Kay points out that Rodriguez will not face a firing squad of New York writers and radio commentators looking to tear him down. It won’t win him any fans, but at this point what would? Rodriguez’s reputation and credibility are shot, and the only chance to get back in the good graces of fans and Yankees ownership is to shut up and play well.

The letter itself says all the right things – or at least, all the things he has to say. Yes, he’s sorry. No, he doesn’t expect you to believe him. More important, its release allows ARod the luxury of responding to any further questions about coming back from suspension with a succinct, “I already talked about that.” Even if no one else wants to move past his PED use and suspension, Rodriguez can credibly say he has.

Each year, it seems like Rodriguez offers a new lesson in crisis communications – and usually provides a comprehensive seminar of what not to do. Maybe he got this one right.

Three ways Max Scherzer’s contract is typical of Washington, D.C.

Tonight, President Barack Obama will use his second-to-last State of the Union address to ask for more taxes. (The economy is apparently doing very well, so America can tap the brakes on silly, frivolous things like college savings and job creation). Since this is his solution to the nation’s wealth disparity, it certainly helps his case that Washington, D.C. welcomes Max Scherzer this week.

1. It’s expensive: The newest Washington National’s contract totals out at $210 million. (Why, that’s McLean money around these parts!) The next highest known offer was Detroit’s extension offer last spring, reportedly for $144 million over the same seven-year span. A week ago, observers of the game were wondering where Scherzer could expect a massive contract. This week, we were reminded that Washington D.C. is always willing to spend more money.

2. Future generations will foot the bill: Half of Scherzer’s contract is deferred, so the $210 million is actually paid out over seven years. If, after the 2021 season, he decides to sign elsewhere or retires, the Nats will still have to keep sending Scherzer checks. The front office will have to account for the equivalent of a seven year, $105 million contract for a ghost player who isn’t even on the roster. (How embarassing would it be if Scherzer signs with, say, the Mets in 2022 and pitches them past the Nats in the playoffs while still on the Nats’ payroll? The Mets know this pain, since they are still on the hook for another 20 years of Bobby Bonilla payments.)

3. It’s not as lucrative as it sounds thanks to inflation: Scherzer has to be excited, but can’t blow it all on some fancy record player just yet. By deferring half of that money, it’s subject to the effects of inflation. In 2015 dollars, the actual value of Scherzer’s deal is closer to $172 million. That’s still enough to eke out a living, but it’s $30 million on paper that’s heading out the window. (Depending on what the President gets from tonight’s State of the Union wish list, the effects of inflation could be even greater.)

All that said, signing Scherzer is actually a smart deal for the Nationals – if they play their cards right. Local sports pundits are questioning the move because the Nats had one of baseball’s best starting rotations already, and have two pitchers hitting the free agent market next offseason. Why sign Scherzer when they could sign Jordan Zimmermann and/or Doug Fister? Or, why not bolster an offense that went through an 18-inning postseason game and barely threatened to rally?

In the short term, Scherzer gives the Nats an unquestioned front-of-the-rotation starter; more important, it gives the team flexibility for next year’s offseason. Both Fister and Zimmermann figure to turn down qualifying offers to test free agency, meaning the Washington can let them both walk, pick up two early draft picks as compensation, and still have a very good rotation heading into 2016. (They can also trade a pitcher this year if the right opportunity presents itself.)

It may not have helped any of the team’s weaknesses, but the Scherzer deal gives the Nationals the talent and flexibility to maintain their strengths for the next several seasons. That’s a good foundation for improvement.

If they don’t screw it up, that is. But wouldn’t that be typical of Washington, D.C., too?

The case against Ken Griffey Jr. (Or, there will never be a unanimous Hall of Famer, but that’s ok.)

After the Baseball Hall of Fame announced its 2015 class yesterday, some of the annual grousing about the results centered on winning vote totals. Arizona and Boston writers wondered why Randy Johnson and Pedro Martinez were not unanimous selections. That echoes a 2013 Joe Posnanski article which claims at least 20 previous inductees should have been unanimous selections – the likes of Tom Seaver, Cal Ripken, and Willie Mays. Speculation about how close Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter will get is already underway.

Rivera and Jeter might get deservedly close, but neither will be unanimous. Neither will Ken Griffey Jr. when he reaches the ballot next year. The reason why is in the nature of the vote: Writers are asked to name up to ten former players who belong in the Hall of Fame. One player’s vote total versus another’s doesn’t matter – it’s not like only the top four vote-getters make the cut. Everyone named on 75% of the ballots gets in. Conceivably, there could be up to 12 or 13 inductees in any given year.

Look at the list of potential candidates next year. Griffey and Trevor Hoffman seems like slam dunks, and Mike Piazza looks likely. Jeff Bagwell and Tim Raines have gotten a good amount of buzz this year and may creep closer. Then there’s the steroid caucus – Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, and a handful of others – who will get significant votes but probably not make the cut because of admitted or suspected PED use. Just below them are a group of players who were good but not no-doubt Hall of Famers. Each Fred McGriff, Curt Schilling, Mike Mussina, or Jim Edmonds will have their case made by writers who saw them play.

Let’s pretend we’re an elector. Our ballot has ten spots. We vote for Griffey, Hoffman, Piazza, Bagwell, and Raines. We think Bonds and Clemens would be in even without the steroid-fueled parts of their career, so we include them, along with Gary Sheffield and his 509 home runs. That’s eight spots taken, we have two more for McGriff, Schilling, Mussina. But wait! Billy Wagner’s 422 saves and Garrett Anderson’s 2,500 hits are still there, not to mention the old YouTube clips of Edmonds playing centerfield. (Seriously, compare this one to Matthew McConaughey’s grab in Angels in the Outfield. Sidebar: How loaded was the cast of Angles in the Outfield? You had Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Adrien Brody, and McConaughey in a movie where Danny Glover and Tony Danza get top billing. That’s pinch hitting Hemmerling for Mitchell.)

Assuming you believe strongly that at least 11 of the 14 players listed belong in the Hall of Fame, whom do you leave off? Remember the loaded ballot means any of those candidates could plummet below the 5% threshold and not get a second chance, so dropping the least worthy and waiting until next year may not be the best strategy.

The most rational candidate is Griffey. In future years, it would be Rivera, or Jeter.

Griffey will surely be named on almost every ballot, so one vote one way or the other wouldn’t make a difference in his election. But one vote could help some of those other, not-quite-sure-thing candidates stay on the ballot or build momentum for future years. If a writer seriously believes in ten candidates beyond the shoe-ins, he or she should absolutely vote this way.

In any election, blowouts reduce turnout. Knowing Griffey, Jeter, and Rivera will top 95% means writers holding the torch for lesser candidates have every reason to leave the no-brainers off their ballot.

Peer Pressure and Hall Of Fame Voting

ESPN’s Jayson Stark struggled with his Hall of Fame ballot this year.  You can see why if you look at the official ballot – there are an awful lot of good players on there, so picking only 10 must have been tough to begin with.  And then there’s this dilemma which Stark faced:

I tried ranking them … But the more I considered voting according to any top-10 list I could come up with, the more I felt that many of those votes were going to be “wasted,” on players who couldn’t possibly get elected.

When a friend asked me to share my picks on Facebook, I never thought to include Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens.  Mike Piazza was a tentative addition.  Unlike the Rafeal Palmeiros and Sammy Sosas of the world, there seems to be general consensus that these three would have been Hall of Famers with or without the steroid use they have been accused of.  Stark is right though – voting for Clemens or Bonds is a wasted vote, because there is no prayer that either gets the 75% needed for induction.  

I wonder how that will affect the other candidacies.  Individual voters may not believe the performance-enhancing drug rumors around Piazza and Jeff Bagwell, but do they have confidence other voters are buying them?  With so  many deserving names on the ballot, why cast your lot for someone more likely to hover around 60% when someone like Jack Morris may be just a few votes away from baseball immortality?

For what it’s worth, my ballot would have been Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Craig Biggio, Piazza, Morris, Frank Thomas, Bagwell, Edgar “The Antichrist” Martinez (grudgingly), Don Mattingly, and Alan Trammell.  (I don’t actually have a ballot, so it’s worth nothing.)  Mike Mussina, Moises Alou, and Tim Raines also deserve election, but should have some years of eligibility left.  

How MLB Started ARod’s Punishment Early

America has had more than a week to digest Alex Rodriguez’s 211-game suspension by Major League Baseball.   ARod’s legal team has rattled their sabers a little more, suggesting legal appeals to the suspension on top of the current Player’s Association appeal already underway.

Leading up to the suspension, the chattering class of the sports journalism wondered if Rodriguez would face a lifetime ban, effective immediately, under the “Best Interests of Baseball” power that has allowed previous commissioners to ban the likes of Pete Rose and the Black Sox of 1919.  But for MLB, putting Rodriguez on the field might be the best option.

Unlike the other players suspended for cheating, who are taking their lumps immediately, Rodriguez will run out each night in front of tens of thousands of fans.  Many of them may be buying tickets solely to boo him.  He’ll get no break at The Stadium, where the fans would give him guff even when he didn’t have the stench of cheating wafting off of him.  For the next month and a half before the Yankees’ lost 2013 season mercifully ends, Rodriguez will be front and center.  Discussions about him will not be abstract, conducted through attorneys and spokespersons.

Since the suspension for Rodriguez is so much more severe than any of the other players, that type of debate would certainly benefit him, if only marginally.  Fans might lose their edge if the question becomes how long ARod should be suspended, rather than whether he should sit out.  Public anger against cheaters can only subside if the matter drags into next March with public enemy number one out of the public eye.

Instead, ARod will get an earful.

By creating a situation where Rodriguez is constantly in the public eye, MLB gets to watch its verdict vindicated in the court of public opinion.  When the jeers rain down on ARod, MLB will let the fans be the messengers to other players.  Public opinion will become clear to those who would be outspoken about the outsized suspension, as well as to players who are candidates to get caught in the next giant steroids scandal (like David Ortiz).

MLB will, naturally, be helped by Rodriguez’s apparent combination of narcissism and a complete and utter lack of self awareness.

 

Let’s Make a Deal: MLB Edition

If Ryan Braun dominated the sports headlines on Tuesday morning, Alex Rodriguez dominated the sub-headlines.  News of Braun’s plea bargained 65-game suspension for using performance enhancing drugs was followed near-universally with the question, “Now, what about ARod?”

It’s a relevant question: Not only is Rodriguez one of the most famous and hated players in any sport, but like Braun he’s a repeat visitor to the PED circus.  But just because it’s a relevant question doesn’t mean it’s the best one.

Soon after Braun’s suspension news broke, Buster Olney was on the phone with the broadcast team calling Monday night’s ESPN telecast of the Yankees and Rangers.  Olney offered this insight: while Rodriguez is the biggest name on the docket, the player most likely to pursue a deal with MLB is Texas’s Nelson Cruz.  As a free agent after this year, Cruz is best served serving his suspension now and entering the open market as an available yet questionable talent.  If he waits, and the suspension gets handed down over the winter or next spring, Cruz might find it hard to sign if teams are unsure of his availability.

The astute Olney cut through the flash and the clutter to identify the real story – and good for him.  Now, back to the coverage of the royal baby.

 

 

Storming the Hall

Major League Baseball linked to this article from its Twitter feed today.  It’s an impassioned case for Fernando Valenzuela to make the Hall of Fame.

What a joke, right?  No rational fan who looks at the stats could possibly think that, right?

Luckily, the author talks more about Fernandomania, and what he meant to the LA Dodgers of the 1980s.  “I won’t write about all of his statistics,” says Sarah Morris, “because they don’t tell the story.”

A few weeks ago, Major League Baseball announced a null class for 2013 induction.  Jack Morris and his splitter sat on the outside.  Advanced stats show that Morris didn’t have the best statistical career of any pitcher, and others in his era outperformed him over the long haul.  Morris’s candidacy comes down to pitching his team to a couple of titles and a 10-inning, 1-0 shutout in Game 7 of the 1991 World Series.

What is the Hall of Fame, though?

If it’s just about stats, there’s no need for voting.  A computer could crunch the numbers and, five years after a player’s career is over, either place him in or out based on statistics measured against his peers and those already in the Hall.  Heck, if it was all about stats, you wouldn’t even have to play the games, would you?  You could have a computer pick the champion.  Hey, it works for college football.

Halls of Fame are supposed to be museums to their respective sports, and baseball’s hall is the most revered.  All-time players are shut out if they carry the stench of cheating or gambling.  Players enshrined in a Hall of Fame should be excellent, but even more importantly they should be significant.

Bernie Williams was, by most statistical measures, a more prolific player than Don Mattingly, but was named on fewer ballots.  Most likely, the voters recognized Mattingly for being the face of the New York Yankees through a lean decade.  Williams, always a class act, was tempermentally similar to Mattingly in many ways, played a tougher position, and exceeded his production – but was never the rock the franchise was built around.   That counts for something, and it should.

As former Yankees broadcaster Jim Kaat said, “It’s a Hall of Fame, not a Hall of Achievement.”  Reggie Jackson hit 563 home runs, but there are only three that fans think of instantly when they see his spot on the wall.  Three thousand hits is nice and everything, but the hushed reverence you hear around Roberto Clemente’s plaque recalls his selfless end.

There are simply no sabermetrics for fame; the Hall is subjective, as it should be.  Remember, this isn’t anything serious.  It’s literally just a game.

Should Mattingly be a Hall of Famer?  That answer probably depends on how old you were when he was in his prime, and what team you rooted for – and its the same way with Morris’s take on Fernando Valenzuela.

Except Morris is completely wrong because the Dodgers suck.

Picking a New President

It’s not the main one, though, just the comically costumed mascots who run around Nats Park once per game.  The nightly race among Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson, and Theodore Roosevelt is getting a fifth contestant, to be announced tomorrow.

Any addition has to be the perfect President.

Naturally, DC-centric media outlets have been running polls since the hint was dropped last fall.  So who do you pick to join the Rushmores?  George, Abe, Tom, and Teddy represent historically significant figures who are also outside of mainstream controversy, so you have to balance fame and significance.

We can eliminate most Presidents for being too boring.  Sure, people like Benjamin Harrison and William McKinley had the same office as Washington and Linclon – just like Bubba Crosby had the same job as Mickey Mantle and Joe DiMaggio.  (Martin Van Buren goes in this group, too – even if it means a harsh visit from the Van Buren Boys.)  James Madison, James Monroe, Ulysses Grant, and Harry Truman were more significant historically, but in a history class kind of way.  They’re on the Dwight Evans/Dale Murphy level of Presidents – if you watched them play they were pretty good, but today’s ten-year-old baseball fans probably don’t know them yet.  There are the incompetent one-termers, like Carter and Hoover, and corrupt cesspool dwellers like Nixon and Harding (who suffers from guilt by association here).

For historically significant, household-name Presidents, there’s Reagan, JFK, FDR, and Jackson.  Given the pro-government-expansion zeitgeist of modern Washington, Reagan would be an out-of-place choice; in a few years when Republicans control everything that may resonate more.  FDR’s confinement to a wheelchair would make for an interesting cameo but probably disqualify him long-term.

JFK has made a previous appearance, so he is probably the favorite.  It’s a good pick: there are elements of the JFK presidency that appeal to both conservatives and liberals, and he was a larger-than-life celebrity President.  The main strike against him is that a giant, foam rubber caricature might diminish the grimness of his Presidency’s end, but it hasn’t seemed to be the case for Lincoln.

Now that we’ve selected the next President to join the race, here’s an even better idea: How about a rotating “Guest President”?  FDR could win a race in his wheelchair one night against the Phillies; the next night the Diamondbacks might see a rotund Taft bouncing past the finish line ahead of Teddy.  Nixon could unfurl the “finish line” from a reel off an old-style tape recorder.  Ford could fall down.  Grant could fall down drunk.  James Buchanan could hit on a guy in the front row.  These jokes practically write themselves.

On the other hand, since the Nats are actually good now, maybe all this is an exercise in overthink – after all, in Milwaukee, they just have sausages.

It would be nice to spend lots of money, but is it smart?

Has anyone noticed that Washington, D.C. and St. Louis have some eerily similar discussions going on?

The last decade or more has demonstrated that bloated budgets are inefficient at best and simply untenable at worst.  While it would be nice to allocate large amounts of resources on the things we want for the next few years, those decision will come back to haunt us in the future.  We must establish a plan and maintain discipline.

That could be the mantra of the budget hawks freshly minted from the tea parties of 2009-2010, or it could be the rationale behind the Cardinals telling Albert Pujols to go find himself a better deal than the reported offer that was on the table.

Just as the Republicans wear the black eye of the Bush-era spending increases, the Cardinals must answer to Pujols – and their fans – how they signed Coors Field product Matt Holliday to a contract which paid him $16 million per year, but would be willing to let the far superior Pujols walk because he’s too expensive.

Republicans are likely fearful of the Democrats accusing them of ripping Social Security checks from the arthritic hands of World War II veterans.  The Cardinals can’t be looking forward to the sports page headlines and the talk radio chatter in St. Louis the day Pujols signs with the Seattle Mariners.

But in each case, the powers that be must recognize two realities.  First, bad decisions in the past do not justify bad decisions in the present.  Second, voters and fans are smarter than most people give them credit for.

And since the baseball problem is easier, here’s something to consider: teams lose superstars all the time and go on to have success.  Seattle lost three franchise cornerstones – Randy Johnson, Ken Griffey Jr., and Alex Rodriguez – in consecutive years, and actually got better each year.  Johan Santana left the Twins, and they still find their way into the playoffs with regularity.  The Marlins won the World Series in 1997, dumped almost their entire roster, and rebuilt another championship team within six years.

On the other hand, teams just as frequently make signings that seem like great ideas at the time, but turn into albatrosses as players age.  The Mets surely wish they could trade Carlos Beltran, and might try to murder Luis Castillo to get him off the roster.  Vladimir Guerrero was a great pickup for the Angels in 2003, by 2009 they couldn’t get him out the door fast enough.  And don’t you think the Cubs wish they could take a mulligan on the eight-year pact they signed with Alfonso Soriano in 2006?

Just as voters want a responsive, healthy economy, baseball fans want a winner.  The Cardinals have to know that they more likely to successfully recover within a few years after Pujols walks away than to sign him to a deal that truly works out for the team.

The budget battle in St. Louis, just as the budget battle in Washington, is best viewed through the lens of recent history.