So the Yankees are back in the World Series, and with their combo of Sabathia and Pettitte against a lineup that turns into Little Leaguers against lefties, they look pretty good to get their first championship of this century. Before we leave the ALCS behind, though, I'd like to take a look at the managerial performances in this one.
Starting with the Angels; I've never exactly been impressed by Mike Scioscia, I've always seen him as a manager who lucked into a 2002 team with a freakishly high BABIP and won a championship against a Giants team consisting of steroidy Barry Bonds (1.381 OPS!!!) and eight scrubs. Since then, he's managed a lot of teams who bunt too much, swing at everything, and scrape by in a lousy division on luck and a solid bullpen. But I've never had too much argument with his in-game management. Tonight, though... hoo boy.
Starting Saunders when clearly Kazmir, Weaver, and Santana were available... eh, what the hell, I'll be generous there. But the final out of the game, he pinch-hit Gary Matthews, Jr. for Mike Napoli. For the second time this series. A quick look at their lines this season:
Napoli: .272/.350/.492
Matthews: .250/.336/.361
One of those is better. By a lot. Like, a lot. And in addition, one of these two men can continue to play catcher into the late (or, perhaps, extra) innings. Furthermore, Napoli never got to hit in the game, because although earlier Scioscia had pulled starting catcher Jeff Mathis for a pinch hitter, it wasn't for Napoli. No, it was for Maicer Izturis, the backup second baseman. Who grounded out, and had to of course leave the game since he doesn't have a fitted catcher's mask and chestplate. Thus, the best-hitting catcher never holds a bat, and the best defensive infielder on the team never gets to hold a glove.
...Which became important in the bottom of the 8th, when the Yanks, their lead down to one run, came up. Santana walked Robby Cano on four pitches, then gave way to Kazmir. Here's where Joe Girardi comes in for the smacking about. Say you're managing the Yankees, who this year hit 244 HR, OPSed .839 as a team, and play in a park which regularly turned pop-ups to right into upper-deck dingers. On the mound, Scott Kazmir, fly-ball pitcher extraordinaire. Swisher up, followed by Cabrera, then the top of the order. Do you trust your hitters to do what they've done all year? Not if you're Joe Girardi. No, you ask Nick Swisher to bunt. Which he does, and due to Howie Kendrick dropping the ball, he even gets the gift base.
Does Girardi appreciate this gift? No! He tells Cabrera to bunt, too. Because Joe Girardi's father once told him, "Joe, real men give their opponents a chance. Only cheaters try to score with nobody out. Make sure you always spot the other guys a couple outs before trying to hit." So Cabrera bunts, and Kazmir decides to throw the ball to a guy three rows behind Kendrick covering first. A run scores, and the Yanks get the insurance, despite Girardi's best efforts to cost them outs for no reason. And he'll of course get praised for playing "gritty smallball" or some shit.
I'm sorry, but unless he had some sort of scouting that told him that the Angels, and Kazmir specifically, truly sucked at fielding bunts, then all Girardi was doing was giving away outs. Which is fucking stupid, no matter what your little league coach tells you. It's one thing to hit a sac fly, it's another to intentionally give away one of your three opportunities per inning to advance a guy who's already on base. That the highly-paid coach of the best offensive attack in baseball doesn't get this (or worse, thinks that bunts are magically more effective once the calendar flips to October) is maddening. So maddening that I must go to bed, and go back to writing politics in the morning.
Showing posts with label playoffs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label playoffs. Show all posts
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Monday, October 8, 2007
Well, that was abrupt...
And just like that, the Sox are in the Championship Series. I'll resist the temptation to write five paragraphs of "See, OPS is better than BA, and a much better stat around which to build an offense." Of course, it helped that Beckett was unconscious in Game 1, and that Schill continued to pad his "big-game pitcher" resume on Sunday in finishing the sweep. Still, I think the quote I heard that summed up the difference between the two teams best came after Manny's walk-off in Game 2, when an analyst pointed out that the Angels didn't have anyone (other than Guerrero) who can win the game with one swing, while the Sox have about five. That about covers it.
The Sox, top to bottom, are guys who will extend at-bats, force pitchers into long counts, and wait for a ball to hammer. It's very tough to take them out of a game. Any pitcher with decent command, though, can force the Angels to swing at a lot of bad pitches and either strike them out or get easy fly balls. The only time they showed any life at all in this series was against Dice-K, and mostly because he was nibbling, trying to pitch around them rather than attacking.
Which brings me to an interesting thought. Old-school baseball writers, the sort who sit about complaining about how all these newfangled stats are ruining the game, love nothing so much as a team that "manufactures runs." Generally what they mean by this is any team that lays down a lot of bunts, steals a lot of bases, and puts on a hit-and-run every other inning or so. In other words, a team that can't hit for shit, and thus has to gamble on the basepaths in order to score.
It strikes me, though, that "manufacturing runs" is completely the wrong term for this. Manufacturing is the process of sticking to a proven, deliberate method in order to create a product. So wouldn't the approach favored by the Sox (take lots of pitches in order to either drive a good one over the fence or get on base so the next guy can knock you in) fit that label much better than trading outs for bases? Perhaps that's too logical for baseball.
The way somebody (I think it was Rob Neyer, but I really can't recall) put it once is that outs should be thought of the same way that we think of the clock in football or basketball. You'd never think it was a good idea for Tom Brady to spend two minutes on a single pass, because even if he gets a first down on that pass, the loss in time takes away opportunities for future first downs. Same deal in baseball.
Man on first, nobody out. If the batter bunts, the man on first will be on second, and thus can score on any base hit (unless he's Mo Vaughn in the later years). Better, right? No. Because while a man on second is more useful than a man on first, you know what's much more useful? Having two men on.
The league's OBP this year was .336. Thus, if an average major-league hitter is at the plate, he's got about a 1 in 3 chance of getting at least to first. If he bunts, his chances go down to just about zero, since the only way he'll reach base is if the fielder misplays the ball (or if the throw goes to second to force the lead runner, in which case the bunt was even more counterproductive). This is of course a massive oversimplification, since it ignores the possibility of double plays, or the slight increase in run expectancy with a man on second as opposed to first. But the basic point is there. In the bunt scenario, your chance of having blown one of your three alloted outs is almost 100%. If you let the guy swing, your chance goes down to about 67%. Not only that, but in the 33% of outcomes where the batter gets on, there's the possibility of a double, triple, or home run, any of which could score the runner from first without sacrificing the out.
This doesn't mean that a sac bunt is automatically a bad idea, just that its use should be really limited. As an example of reasonable use: if you look at the stats on sacrifice hits, you'll notice that the average NL team has almost twice as many sac hits as the average AL team. NL teams, of course, make pitchers hit, and since every pitcher in the league is pretty much a guaranteed out (pitchers OBPed to the tune of .177 this year), it's much more defensible to go for the bunt.
This went on a lot longer than I'd planned for it to, so I'll leave it at that. Tomorrow I'll likely write a bit on whether I'd rather see Cleveland or New York arrive in Boston on Friday.
The Sox, top to bottom, are guys who will extend at-bats, force pitchers into long counts, and wait for a ball to hammer. It's very tough to take them out of a game. Any pitcher with decent command, though, can force the Angels to swing at a lot of bad pitches and either strike them out or get easy fly balls. The only time they showed any life at all in this series was against Dice-K, and mostly because he was nibbling, trying to pitch around them rather than attacking.
Which brings me to an interesting thought. Old-school baseball writers, the sort who sit about complaining about how all these newfangled stats are ruining the game, love nothing so much as a team that "manufactures runs." Generally what they mean by this is any team that lays down a lot of bunts, steals a lot of bases, and puts on a hit-and-run every other inning or so. In other words, a team that can't hit for shit, and thus has to gamble on the basepaths in order to score.
It strikes me, though, that "manufacturing runs" is completely the wrong term for this. Manufacturing is the process of sticking to a proven, deliberate method in order to create a product. So wouldn't the approach favored by the Sox (take lots of pitches in order to either drive a good one over the fence or get on base so the next guy can knock you in) fit that label much better than trading outs for bases? Perhaps that's too logical for baseball.
The way somebody (I think it was Rob Neyer, but I really can't recall) put it once is that outs should be thought of the same way that we think of the clock in football or basketball. You'd never think it was a good idea for Tom Brady to spend two minutes on a single pass, because even if he gets a first down on that pass, the loss in time takes away opportunities for future first downs. Same deal in baseball.
Man on first, nobody out. If the batter bunts, the man on first will be on second, and thus can score on any base hit (unless he's Mo Vaughn in the later years). Better, right? No. Because while a man on second is more useful than a man on first, you know what's much more useful? Having two men on.
The league's OBP this year was .336. Thus, if an average major-league hitter is at the plate, he's got about a 1 in 3 chance of getting at least to first. If he bunts, his chances go down to just about zero, since the only way he'll reach base is if the fielder misplays the ball (or if the throw goes to second to force the lead runner, in which case the bunt was even more counterproductive). This is of course a massive oversimplification, since it ignores the possibility of double plays, or the slight increase in run expectancy with a man on second as opposed to first. But the basic point is there. In the bunt scenario, your chance of having blown one of your three alloted outs is almost 100%. If you let the guy swing, your chance goes down to about 67%. Not only that, but in the 33% of outcomes where the batter gets on, there's the possibility of a double, triple, or home run, any of which could score the runner from first without sacrificing the out.
This doesn't mean that a sac bunt is automatically a bad idea, just that its use should be really limited. As an example of reasonable use: if you look at the stats on sacrifice hits, you'll notice that the average NL team has almost twice as many sac hits as the average AL team. NL teams, of course, make pitchers hit, and since every pitcher in the league is pretty much a guaranteed out (pitchers OBPed to the tune of .177 this year), it's much more defensible to go for the bunt.
This went on a lot longer than I'd planned for it to, so I'll leave it at that. Tomorrow I'll likely write a bit on whether I'd rather see Cleveland or New York arrive in Boston on Friday.
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