Guest Writer: Jason Tyner

Kev is back with another installment from J-Ty. Enjoy.

Hey Y’all,

It’s J-Ty again. Well I made it to Australia after a LONG flight. Man, I thought flights from Seattle to the East Coast were long, this was something else. Luckily, J-Ty came prepared with a ton of Ny-Quil and Tylenol PM. You mix those bad boys together, add in the shots of Jack I smuggled through security, and you’ve just killed 10 hours in blissful passed-the-fuck-out land. Point, J-Ty.

Anyway, I made it to Australia, and I have to say I was a little concerned about the language barrier. I mean, who could blame me, I was under the impression that Australians spoke some strange language where “beer” was translated as “Foster’s.” Luckily for me, it looks like everyone in Melbourne speaks English instead of Australian. Nice of them; I can’t imagine what other words mean in Australian if they get “Foster’s” out of “beer”.

I was also surprised by how Australia has cities and stuff. Melbourne actually might be bigger than Minneapolis. I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty excited to see Crocodile Dundee guys running around the Outback chasing dingos and kangaroos and stuff, speaking some crazy Australian phrases. I was all excited to run up to Crocodile Dundee and say “G’dye” (that’s Australian for hello). I’m going to make it a point to get out to the Outback and say “G’dye” before I leave though.

I got another culture shock when I decided it was time to rustle up some grub for the evening. I thought to myself, of course, what better way to have a fantastic meal and take in some of the local culture than to hit up an Outback? Imagine my confusion when I asked a taxi driver where the nearest Outback was and he said, “There are no Outbacks in ‘Stralia, mate.” After I punched him in the face for calling me what I can only assume is the Australian version of what we Texans used to call, “queer”, I checked it out. Turns out the smarmy bastard was right. Outback is headquarted in Tampa! No wonder there were so many down there when I was with the D-Rays.

Anyway, one last note before I go out to a real Australian restaurant, and this one goes out to the puppy killer in Minneapolis. The high is 77 in Melbourne, bitch! I’ll catch up with another cultural report later on this week. I play my first game Friday night. Prediction: Domination.

The Inaugural Post of the Big Skill

Before we give you Big Skill's first post, I feel there's something you should know about the guy. Normally, he is really laid back. Picture Jim Breuer in Half Baked, only Big Skill isn't stoned all the time. It's just that the subject of Kyle Lohse tends to bring Big Skill to a whole new level of intensity, as you are about to see.

As Jeff cleared up after screwing up the first post, The Root Beer Incident occurred at a Matt Kinney vs. Kyle Lohse match up against the Brewers. Also, I’m not afraid to say it. I’m not Bill Simmons here. I wasn’t making any friendly wagers that day. I had a good amount of real American dollars on the line. All on the back of… Kyle Lohse. Questionable? Maybe, but consider who his adversary was that day. Matt Kinney. Matt FUCKING Kinney. The same guy who gave up six runs on seven hits to the same Twins team his last time out. The same guy who has a career 5.29 ERA. The same guy who the Twins let go earlier that season for being too fat. That’s saying something too considering the original Fat Matt LeCroy played 107 games for the Twins that year. Trust me, LeCroy is fat. So fat it makes Frank Robinson cry.

But I digress. Lets get to the point here and talk about the most important thing learned that day. Well… the most important thing learned that day was not to let emotions get involved in gambling decisions. But, right behind that was we learned that Kyle Lohse is a massive pussy. If there was a female version of Elephantitis… it would mean that they have Kyle Lohse attached to them. I will never forget the look on his face when they showed him on the Jumbotron after that line drive lightly grazed him. Hey Kyle… you don’t like it when they hit the ball hard in your general direction? Here’s an idea. Don’t hang one down the middle of plate and let them hit rockets right back up the middle.

Lets take a quick look at some of Kyle’s other notable achievements. Who remembers where the last pitch Kyle threw as a starter with the Twins landed? If you don’t, let me remind you… in the right field corner at the Metrodome. And who’s fault was this? One can only imagine it was Kyle’s, right? Well, according to Kyle it wasn’t. In Kyle’s mind this was all Michael Cuddyer’s fault because he wasn’t able to chase down a hard hit line drive into the right field corner. I guess Kyle forgot that ole’ Cuddy wasn’t playing RF because of his spectacular range… but because he sucked even worse at fielding grounders than he sucks at chasing down flyballs. Anyways, after being immediately pulled Kyle then proceeded to scream out, “Can I get a little help here!” as he walked though the dugout on his way to spend some “alone time” in the club house. I can only imagine this looked something like this. Hey Kyle… you don’t like it when people hit doubles off of you? Well, I think we’ve covered hanging pitches in the zone, right?. Oh, and at some point he also hurt his hand slapping Gardy's door after getting lit up (If you had to do this… use your glove hand Kyle… haven’t you ever seen Bull Durham?). Sweet mental makeup, Kyle. (Side note: I see a little Lohse in Matt Garza. I mean it’s never good when you are uncontrollably shaking with nerves before you make your MLB debut… So, have fun with all THAT Tampa Bay).

Then Kyle finally cast aside all doubts of any possibility that he was truly a Man when he called the American League “Arena Baseball.” I mean, he could have the Maxim Hot 100 run a train on him while jamming with a resurrected Jimi Hendrix while doubling down against an ace in the high stakes pit at the Monte Carlo (I only wish there was a picture I could link to for this one, minus Klye’s involvement of course), and he would still be a pussy. Arena Baseball Kyle!? I think you mean Awesome baseball. Maybe it’s just me, but well executed walk off hit and runs just aren’t my thing. Sorry I’m not sorry that you aren’t good enough to effectively pitch without getting a free out every time though the order. I have no idea, but I would bet that Kyle was among the NL leaders in batting average against vs. pitchers last season anyways, just because he’s Kyle Lohse. It’s too bad the Phillies had to go and up his ego by trading for him last year in the heat on a pennant chase. Too bad the only reason was because the guy he knocked out of the rotation when he joined it was still a worse option than J.D. “The Real Deal” Durbin. Yes, the same J.D. Durbin that screamed, “That’s why they call me the Real Deal” after his first inning pitched in A ball and then put up a 94.50 ERA with the Diamondbacks… Karma’s a bitch huh, J.D.?

I’ll admit it. I used to like Kyle Lohse when I was a kid. I pictured him as a laid back guy who grew up in California who was currently living out my dream of being an MLB starting pitcher on my favorite baseball team. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He’s a pussy. Each day which goes by that he doesn’t sign that 4 or 5 year deal he was looking for (Thankfully there wasn’t a GM out there who was that stupid) is a good one. I can’t wait for him to sign a one year non-guaranteed minor league deal with the Pirates, and then watch Zach Duke beat him out in spring training. Drinks would be on me that day my boys.

Twins receive new and improved Delmon!

That’s right folks, according to the Star-Trib, the Twins will be receiving a brand new, only partially used Delmon Young this year. We were all expecting the old, emotionally distraught and overly aggressive Delmon. Instead we’re receiving a top of the line hitting prospect who has shown great steps in maturity.

I’m not going to lie, as often as the “the kid’s finally grown up!” card gets played in sports, the article made me excited. If it can be trusted and isn’t exaggerating, Delmon is anxious to put his past behind him. Getting him out of the company of Elijah Dukes probably helps matters. You also have to like the line from Young: “You get four years from 18-21 – you know, college time – where you can get in a little bit of trouble. But after that you’ve got to wake up and join the real world.”

First, I don’t think anybody is going to say a 22 year old professional baseball player is in the “real world.” The guy got a $3.7 mill signing bonus before his 18^th birthday. It’s nice to know that he made more money as a minor than I probably will make in my lifetime. As for “getting into a little bit of trouble,” let’s just hope he doesn’t take the example of some of his college-age contemporaries.

A conversation between: Dave Dombrowski and Jim Leyland

(This post is intended to be solely for humor. It is unrealistic, not intended to be an accurate representation of the personalities involved, nor to defame any individual involved. The personalities attached to the names are extreme caricatures chosen primarily because, well, they're funny. Views given by said caricatures also do not necessarily have any relation to the views of the author(s). Conversation posts were inspired by the hilarious conversation posts done by Orson Swindle at Every Day Should Be Saturday.)

(Dave Dombrowski, general manager of the Detroit Tigers, sits in a large throne chair behind the desk in his office clad in a gray, pinstriped suit, white shirt, and gold power tie. He furiously flips back and forth through scouting reports while gulping down coffee. There is a knock at his door.)

Dombrowski: “Yes, come in. Who is it?”

(Jim Leyland pushes the door open and slowly walks through. He is wearing his managing uniform, which looks as though it hasn’t been washed in weeks. Leyland looks disheveled and is smoking a cigarette.)

Leyland: “You said you wanted to see me, sir?”

Dombrowski (without looking up from his scouting reports): “Ah, yes, Jim, come in, sit down.” (Leyland ambles forward, taking a few relaxed puffs on his cigarette, and sits in the folding chair opposite Dombrowski.) “I hope that chair is comfortable. I’ve been meaning to get a replacement, but with the budget and all… I’m sure you understand. Now then, I want to talk to you about your suggestions for improving the team.”

Leyland (puts out his cigarette and immediately lights another, exhaling smoke as he speaks): “Yeah. Our offense was strong as hell last year… Better than when we went to the World Series two years ago. I feel like our pitching faltered down the stretch so we should go try and get a few more hurlers.”

Dombrowski (his nose twitches as he glares up at Leyland): “Are you trying to tell me how to do my job, Jim?”

Leyland (takes another drag of his cigarette without breaking Dombrowski’s gaze): “Not at all, Dave, it’s just – ”

Dombrowski: “You do realize who I am, right? Dave Dombrowski?”

Leyland (Takes a long drag and sighs out the smoke): “Yeah, Dave…”

Dombrowski: “The Dave Dombrowski that was hired as the youngest ever GM in baseball history? Tell me, who is that statue in the back corner of?”

Leyland (turns and notices a full-size statue of Dave Dombrowski in the back corner of the office for the first time): “Why the hell did you have a statue made of yourself and put in your office? Is that marble?!”

Dombrowski (with a smug smile on his face): “Hell yes it is. Pure gold was too expensive; budgets again, Jim. All great leaders have statues made of them. Lincoln, Washington, Roosevelt… and Dombrowski. Soak it in; let the greatness of the Dombrowski flow over you. Now then, the regarding the team… We’re going to give up Maybin, Miller, Rabelo, Badenhop, de la Cruz, and Trahern to the Marlins for Miguel Cabrera and Dontrelle Willis.”

Leyland (lights a second cigarette and takes his first drag before putting the other cigarette out): “All those prospects for Cabrera and Willis? I mean, Cabrera’s a great ballplayer, but we need pitching and that Willis kid –”

Dombrowski (slams his coffee mug on the table, splashing coffee over the scouting reports. His face turns red and a vein starts throbbing in his forehead): “What did I just tell you about my job, Leyland? It’s my job, I do it. Who made that 2006 World Series team for you? Who made it so all you had to do was sit and watch the games from the bench? Who got you those players, Jim??”

Leyland (rolls his eyes slightly as he lets out a puff of smoke): “Okay, I get your point Dave.”

Dombrowski: “Who got you those players, Jim?!?”

Leyland: “You did.”

Dombrowski (rising to his feet and leaning forward onto his desk, and yelling at Leyland): “Who did?!?”

Leyland (sighing indignantly, thinking to himself “goddamn kids these days.”): “The Dombrowski did.”

Dombrowski: “Damn straight he did.” (Dombrowski pauses momentarily to kiss his closed hand, hit it against his chest and salute his fist towards the Dombrowski statue before sitting back down.) “Inge killed us last year. Cabrera at third gives us an offense explosive that even their elderly, sedate manager has to get excited over.” (Leyland fidgets uncomfortably in his folding chair.) “The Dombrowski will be known for creating the best offense ever seen. Don’t screw this up and you’ll be in Cooperstown, Jim. This team is going to hit opponents harder than Frank Dux in the Kumite tournament.”

(Leyland sighes again and thinks to himself: “This guy is insane.” He slowly gets up and starts to walk out the door.)

Dombrowski (continuing, eyes wild as he pores over his now coffee stained scouting reports, oblivious to Leyland walking out): “It’s going to be beautiful, Jim! Never doubt the Dombrowski!! Think of the adoration… Everyone will know that I created this team! Me! The Dombrowski! DOMBROWSKI!!!”

Jim Caple makes me want to be thirty.

I know, it sounds crazy. Why would I want to age over seven years right now, when I'm in my early tewnties? Think of all the amazing time I would miss! My liver is probably the only part of me that would be happy. But, when you hit thirty, you become eligible to play in the Minnesota Twins Fantasy Baseball Camp. I cannot begin to put into words how jealous I am. I mean, sure, there's the 3,895 reasons I can't afford it, not to mention that I can't easily pick up and take a vacation to Florida, but how much fun would that be? Play baseball for a week and an endless supply of beer. It's like $3,895 to buy a week of heaven. Instead of being in Florida for a week playing baseball with retired pros and drinking all the beer I can handle, I'm in a snowstorm in Minneapolis. Awesome.

Since I have to hold off on the Twins fantasy camp for 7+ years, I decided to look into my other options. There is a Minnesota amateur baseball league, but the players on the team closest to me happen to have a large amount of college experience, with one guy supposedly having played for the Tigers. (The guy really never made it out of AAA. And he calls himself a baseball player. Psh.) Considering I have about as much baseball talent as Sir Charles has golf talent, amateur leagues are out.

This leaves me with the fall back option for the nonathletic masses: the video game. For all you under 30, or don't-have-four-grand-to-blow-and-free-time thirty-plus, individuals lacking baseball talent, have fun getting your fill with MLB 2k8 in a few weeks. (No MLB 2k_ game comment can go without saying how they effectively killed arguably the best baseball game ever by buying the exclusive MLB license and robbing us from sequels to MVP 2005. I will never forgive 2K Sports for this.) So have fun, amigos. Just try not to get too into the role of a ballplayer, or you'll end up with stains all over your carpet from spitting out your chew and inevitably attack your wife/girlfriend in a fit of 'roid rage. It's best leaving stuff like that to the pros.

Special Guest Writer: Jason Tyner!

Another great entry from Kev. The same general humor-post disclaimer applies: This post is intended to be solely for humor. It is unrealistic, not intended to be an accurate representation of the personalities involved, nor to defame any individual involved. The personalities attached to the names are extreme caricatures chosen primarily because, well, they're funny. Views given by said caricatures also do not necessarily have any relation to the views of the author(s).

Hey Y’all,

This is Jason Tyner, J-Ty. You may remember me from my time as the slap-hitting, scrappy outfielder for your Minnesota Twins. I also had a tendency to wow the ladies with my devastatingly good looks. Unfortunately, the Twins declined to offer me a contract for the 2008 season, the bastards. Anyway, I still have much love (and a few outstanding debts…hehe) for the Minnesota fans and wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to since my ties with the team were brutally severed.

After being cut by that bastard Billy Smith (note: I don’t want to start a rumor here, but I heard Billy Smith kills puppies for fun), I sat around waiting for the phone to ring. It didn’t. It was all good though, I was distracted anyway, what with the holidays and the Boat Show coming in to town. Plus, collecting unemployment is sweeeeet!! I get a fat check every week for sitting on my ass! Or at least I did, until Moqueisha down at the Unemployment office told me last week that I couldn’t collect checks anymore because I wasn’t making a “reasonable effort” to find alternative employment. Bitch (I heard she kills puppies for fun too, maybe with Billy Smith). So I got off my ass, and I called my agent/expert negotiator, Tommy Tanzer. That’s reasonable effort, Moqueisha!

I had to remind Tommy of who I was a couple times of course, but we eventually talked about my professional future. He told me I was a “shitty defensive left fielder who couldn’t hit.” I told him about my scrappiness, and how I was a great teammate and first-class person. He told me, “all that and $3.00 will get you a latte.” J-Ty’s no fool though, lattes cost $3.40, so Tommy just confirmed the value I bring to a ball club. Point, J-Ty.

Anyway, Tommy did manage to get me a job playing baseball; he is an expert after all. It’s not glamorous but it does get that puppy-killing bitch Moqueisha off my back (actually, she shouldn’t know about this…I still want that unemployment check), and it’ll help me build my value and get an MLB job next year. Plus, I’ll get to see some of the world. That’s right, I’ll be playing ball with the Melbourne Baseball Club in Australia! Check out that beautiful home field! Anyhow, that’s the plan. J-Ty’s gonna be reppin’ the USA in the land down under! I fly out tomorrow, but I’ll be keeping you all posted.

The Twins Superbowl Ad

Carl Pohlad doesn't spend enough money for you malevolent bellyachers? Why don't you stick A SUPERBOWL AD in your pipe and smoke it?!

That's right, the Twins made the egregious and pointless decision to drop I-don't-want-to-know-how-many dollars on a Superbowl ad this year. I know it's the Superbowl, and hordes of people in the Minneapolis/St. Paul metropolitan area are watching, but was it really worth however much that ad had to cost? The point of this ad seemed to be to get fans excited about the Twins new stadium. But the next two seasons are still being played in the Dome of Hubert H Humphrey, so I guess the ad was supposed to get the fans fired up for this season.

I don't know that much about advertising, but my economics mind is telling me that for that ad to be worthwhile, it has to cause a revenue inflow at least as large as the cost of the ad. So shouldn't you be targeting your ad towards people who are less enthusiastic about the Twins? Take those football fans, and make them interested in baseball.. Do that successfully, and you'll have a larger inflow of money than swinging more "hardcore" Twins fans from attending 4 games to 6 games in a year. At least, that's my ignorant and uninformed opinion. But this ad seemed definitely targeted towards the more knowledgeable Twins fans.

Unless you already follow the Twins, you might not have recognized Mauer, Morneau, and Cuddyer. I already spoke to one individual who said "That was Mauer and Morneau, right? Who was the third person?" Mauer didn't even get a close-up, but everyone in the Twin Cities area is going to recognize those sideburns. The non-bandwagon-post-2001 Twins fans also caught the Tom Kelly cameo at the end, but that held no significance to people who don't follow the team. I tried to look into if the license plate "140-HLU", which was used as a plate for the Mauer/Morneau/Cuddyer batting practice, held any significance. The end result was my being emotionally disturbed by the stalking capabilities of the internet.

There is one part of the commercial I appreciated: the promotion of malicious acts of vandalism against Cleveland fans. In three years, we're stepping it up to arson, and you'll be legally allowed to burn down your neighbor's house if he puts on a Grady Sizemore jersey. We're also working on making the act of branding any piece of personal property with the word "Pronk" punishable by a week in the stockades, but the legal system moves slowly, folks.

February: The Longest Month

(This post was written completely by Kev, lamenting the state of the sports world during the month of February. In my personal opinion, the only thing worthy of interest during February is the Fulmer Cup, which is covered by Orson Swindle at Every Day Should Be Saturday. Here's to hoping someone can break Enrique Robinson's current season high of 11 points. Now, Kevin's opinion on February.)

Rogers Hornsby once said on the subject of baseball’s off-season, “What do I do during the winter? I’ll tell you what I do! I sit at the window and wait for it to be Spring!”

Note that “The Rajah” was compiling one of the most kick-ass careers ever in the 1920’s, a simpler time, when, from October through April, there really wasn’t much to do. Oh sure, maybe you could get into bootlegging, open your own speakeasy, drive drunk (no DUI laws back then!), write some subtle, feminist advertising, or speculate wildly on the stock market. Maybe, if you were really up on the politics of the day, you could follow a pre-cursor to the Halliburton contracts in Iraq. But the sports calendar was basically blank.

Baseball ended in early October. During the fall, there was football, but not really. People still cared when Army played Notre Dame, and they liked watching Red Grange, but college football wasn’t the game we love today. Think about it: the best conference in the country, the SEC, celebrated its 75^th Anniversary this year; it didn’t exist in the 1920’s! As for the NFL, it was viewed as a curiosity, the kind of thing that ruffians were supposed to do. The best college players viewed it as vulgar to play pro ball (Grange bucked that trend as the decade ended of course, but it took the NFL awhile to really get going). The NBA was 20 years from being founded, college basketball didn’t really exist outside of a few major cities, and the NHL was still basically a Canadian curiosity. Essentially, once baseball ended, you were looking at 6 months of suck. Oh, and it was really fucking cold outside. In short, Rogers’ plan was a totally logical thing for the sports fan to do; sit at the window, drink some bootlegged Canadian whiskey, wait for baseball season to start.

Thankfully, the rise of football means we don’t have it that bad anymore. We go through the fall and part of the winter with college football and the NFL to feed our insatiable sports appetites. Then, the day after the Super Bowl, it’s brutally and quickly over. We wake up one Monday morning in early February and we’re in the same position as “The Rajah” was in, waiting for it to be Spring.

But wait, there’s still the NBA, the NHL, and college basketball. NBA and NHL regular season games are meaningless, even the players don’t care (witness Ricky Davis). Watching an NBA or NHL regular season game is like watching a Jason Statham movie without the fight scenes; what the hell’s the point? College basketball is a little bit better (the Duke-Carolina game last night was fun), but the cool part about college basketball is the tournament and that doesn’t get going until mid-March. That’s about the time baseball finally starts playing exhibition games too, and also about the time the weather shows signs of ceasing to suck. So there it is, February 4-March 20, when the sports world regresses to 1925. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have a date with a plastic bottle of cheap whiskey and a window. Bottoms Up!

New York vs. Minnesota: The Celebrity Comparison

Everyone knows about how Johan has been traded to the Mets. Every time I see a picture of Johan in Mets attire, a little part of me dies inside. I'm praying it's not my medial insula, because one day I want to love again. I also don't know if you've read this article by the AP, describing how the Mets threw themselves a party to introduce Santana. I'll include the first three paragraphs that described the party:

The house lights dimmed, music was turned up and a video montage of Johan Santana highlights started rolling on a screen so wide you could almost see the seams on every pitch.

Every minute or so, the string of strikeouts was interrupted by a famous New Yorker welcoming Santana to the Big Apple. There was Chris Rock, Alec Baldwin, Jerry Seinfeld.

The Mets spent big money on their new ace last week and then choreographed a lavish introduction Wednesday at Shea Stadium's Diamond Club, set to some familiar guitar riffs by rock star Carlos Santana.

Screw you guys. I don't even know if Rock and Baldwin are public Mets fans like Seinfeld is, but Seinfeld is also a scientologist. This removes any respect I had for him as an intelligent individual. Why am I so bitter? Because the whole Johan party, to me, feels like a big "Hey, welcome to 'The City' now! We're all New Yorkers and famous and.. wait, where did you come from again?"

The amusing part is imagining what the Twins could do if they were making a similar video for a recently signed free agent. The only way it has any chance of working is if we allow the video to include anyone with Minneapolis ties. To make it decent, we'd have to take some creative liberties. Brock Lesnar would have to beat the hell out of Josh Hartnett while Rachel Leigh Cook stood in the background. The soundtrack would be written by Prince. At the end of the day, it's guaranteed to be better than the New York video, because we have the Coen brothers to direct it.

An Entry in the Diary of: Carl Pohlad

Before we get started with a proper humor post tonight, I'm giving the same disclaimer as before. This post is intended to be solely for humor. It is unrealistic, not intended to be an accurate representation of the personalities involved, nor to defame any individual involved. The personalities attached to the names are extreme caricatures chosen primarily because, well, they're funny. Views given by said caricatures also do not necessarily have any relation to the views of the author(s). This post was another joint effort with Kev.

Dear Diary,

At 11:46 of the third quarter, the Patriots successfully challenged for a 12 men on the field penalty.

Sorry about that, Diary, but Joe Buck told me to “write that in my diary”, so I did. He just speaks with such an irresistible combination of moral superiority and smugness…it’s like he has a direct line to my soul. Anyway, on to the real reason I’m writing…

I hope those greedy bastards are happy. Eleven years ago I almost got rid of this damn franchise at a handsome profit; had another shot 6 years ago, at an even handsomer profit. And now I have to sink another $125 million into it! I tell ya, Diary, the sunk costs make my banker’s soul yearn for a little nip! I could be down in Fiji right now, sipping on a mimosa made with fresh orange juice, toes in the white sand, watching the natives alternate between falling all over themselves for my money and recoiling in horror as I poke them with a stick…haha, happy days. Ah, I do so appreciate a good mimosa. Took me some time to find a speakeasy that would let me in at ten back in the prohibition days, but Carl Pohlad will not be denied. Also, it helped that the laws only applied to poor people; and Smilin’ Carl is not poor, Diary! But no! It’s February, my mimosa has concentrated orange juice in it, and I have to pretend to be excited about sinking $125M into a project that will only benefit the damned unwashed masses.

Sadly, this extortion of $125M is but a symptom of the root cause, Diary. Thirty years ago I could do whatever I goddamn well pleased. Those legislative weasels would look the other way or just nod knowingly and respectfully. Used to be a man could make an example of a whiny subordinate without Johnny Law riding his ass! I still remember the Chinese water torture I gave the loan officer who refused to foreclose on that cute family farm out in Willmar in 1973…it was glorious, Diary. What the hell happened since then? Now all Peters says is, “liability this and civil suit that”. The whiny bastard had the nerve to tell me the other day that I should give the employees health insurance! The worst is Peters keeps asking why I have my miniature coliseum, something about “massive tort liability”…in the glory days, he would’ve found out the hard way why I keep it around!

Society calls it a problem, my coliseum. That and the other treasures I’ve added down below my Dome over the years. This pansy society wouldn’t like finding the scavenger’s daughter or the brodequins setup, even though I only used them once each; both times for reasons other than personal pleasure. But a man’s home is his castle, damn it! And in my castle, I’ll partake in whatever I want! But never mind how Peters keeps that mongol Burilgi happy; that freak of nature likes handing out the punishment more than I like watching it. He once turned on Peters and tried to rip his arm off; Peters managed to dive under the portcullis as it fell and blocked the only entrance, locking Burilgi in. I do not want to directly interact with that bastard but he’s the best damn entertainer I know, Diary!

The hidden door to the viewing gallery is only accessible through my office, so no pansy “human rights activists” have managed to find my treasures yet. If I sold this damn team while they were still in this stadium, it would only be a matter of time. First I thought I was in the clear thanks to that Don Beaver guy. He wanted the team, but was going to move it away from Minneapolis. Music to my ears. Sometimes I still think fondly of the going away party I had planned with Burilgi… Then those goddamn whiny bastards in North Carolina voted not to build a new stadium. Beaver backed down. I was still stuck here in the fucking arctic.

Then Selig came along to bail me out. We made a plan to contract the team. The party with Burilgi was back on! It would’ve worked, too, if the team didn’t take off and win the goddamn division the next three years in a row. I’m going to make Gardenhire’s life hell for this; Burilgi’s getting old…he doesn’t have much time left... Now, over ten years later and I’m still in this freezing hell instead of sitting on a beach with a fresh mimosa, a solid stick, and memories of the best damn party of all time. And the orange juice is not fresh! The only way to get my dream is to buy my way out. I have to spend $125 million of my own goddamn money on this new stadium. But at least by 2011, I’ll have my dream. I think Burilgi can make it until then…the party is scheduled for November 1, 2010 and none of those unwashed bastards that call themselves Twins fans are invited!

Don't Sign Joe Nathan Petition! Sign up now!

That’s right, I’m starting a petition right here, right now, for the Twins to not sign Joe Nathan to an extension. However, I’m lazy, so put your name in the comment section to “sign” and I shall personally forward this story to Carl Pohlad when the petition reaches a high enough number (re: enough to make me crap my pants that this blog is actually popular).

Let me give a quick rundown of why we shouldn’t sign Joe Nathan: we’ll be overpaying him a truckload. Done. That was easy. The salaries and media love for closers is something I despise about baseball. To me, a reliever is a reliever. Pitching the 9^th inning as opposed to the 8^th should not translate to a four-fold increase in salary. I know I whip VORP out all the time, but look at the VORP for Twins pitchers in 2007. Guerrier, with a slightly higher ERA but more innings pitched, saved the Twins 36.8 more runs than a “replacement level player” would have, while Nathan saved the Twins 32.9 runs. Guerrier, therefore, was more valuable to the team, right? Well, Guerrier is making $950,000 next year while Nathan tries to negotiate a “bargain” for the Twins in the realm of $12 mill. Yes, Guerrier is still under arbitration, which severely deflates his salary, but I dare you to make the argument that Guerrier would be out-earning Nathan if he was currently in his free agency years.

Baseball executives have a love of the closer and the “save” statistic. I really don’t see what’s so special about it. If I’m manager of a baseball team, say the 2007 Twins, I run my bullpen differently. I say to Nathan, congrats, you’re my best reliever, so you’re option one. Guerrier, you have some stamina so you’re long relief. Neshek, that makes you option two. I’m basically calling them option one and option two instead of “closer” and “set-up man”. Why, what’s the difference you ask? I’m going to use them depending on who’s hitting, not what goddamn inning it is.

Let’s say it’s the top of the 8^th, Twins are at home and up by one. To make things specific, let’s say the Tigers are in town. That means their line-up probably looked like this: (Note, this is the lineup the Tigers did use visiting the Twins May 11^th)

Ivan Rodriguez – C
Placido Polanco – 2B
Gary Sheffield – DH
Magglio Ordonez – RF
Carlos Guillen – SS
Craig Monroe – LF
Marcus Thames – 1B
Brandon Inge – 3B
Curtis Granderson – CF

So, top of the 8^th, and we’ll say Gary Sheffield is up. Conventional wisdom says “It’s the 8^th inning, send out your set-up reliever!” WHY?!? You have a one run lead and the opposing teams best hitters are coming out! Why would you not send out your best reliever?! I’m sending out option one, Nathan, to try and shut down the oppositions best hitters. Then, in the 9^th, I send out Neshek, option two. My best reliever faces their best hitters, giving me the best chance of not giving up a single run. Neshek gets a save, but who cares? Does that really matter? I’m not suggesting a closer by committee exactly, I’m just saying that late in the game (8^th inning on, maybe 7^th), I’m going to use my relievers more as a reaction of who is going to be hitting, not what inning it is.

The reason I bring up my theories on how to manage a bullpen is this is directly tied to my theories on closers. As you can see from my bullpen management, a reliever is a reliever to me. Joe Nathan may be the best reliever on the Twins, but is he worth $10 million more than our next best reliever? No. The discussion is muddled a little by Neshek and Guerrier both being under arbitration and thus not getting their actual market value, but the point stands. The term “closer” adds at least $5 million in salary to a reliever, regardless of performance. The only way I’m signing Joe Nathan is if he signs at the discount price of $6 million per, which we all know isn’t happening.

The one benefit from the incredibly inflated opinions on closers is that we can abuse the market. Trade Nathan right now, insert Guerrier or Neshek into the closer role, and watch him prosper. Sign out his arbitration years and first few years of free agency at a slightly higher salary than a middle reliever deserves, and then trade him with two years left in his contract as a cheap and effective closer. Wash, rinse, repeat. Of course, none of this will actually happen because it makes too much sense. Instead, look for the Twins to try and sign Nathan to a $12 mill a year deal for the next 3 years (he’ll be there for the stadium opening in 2010! Yes!) while Neshek and Guerrier to go relatively unappreciated for their performance.

Big Skill: The Man, the Myth, the Legend.

(Update: Speaking of egregious errors, I fucked this one up bigtime. I got the game this story happened at wrong, meaning all those details about who was batting were wrong. The real game was this game, with the Twins playing the Brewers. The details are strikingly similar; Lohse pitching (important, because Big Skill was definitely flipping out at Lohse), Lohse mentally collapsing after getting hit with a liner, and a lone run scored off a double when the Twins were down 6-0. I'm leaving this as an update instead of changing the original post for three reasons: first, a reminder to myself to not fuck up again in the future; second, anyone who's already read this and saw it again later would notice the MASSIVE changes in details about the game; third, I'm lazy. Apologies for the error, and I'll give my best efforts so that it won't happen again. The important part is all the info about Big Skill's gambling, the excessive celebration, and the root beer float are 100% accurate. The Legend continues forth unfettered.)

Today has been a bit hectic for me and has left me without the time to concoct a proper post tonight. Instead of worrying about creating something funny, I'm going to save time and tell you a story and start the Legend of Big Skill.

There's one thing you should know about Big Skill before I start: he's about three large losses from being a full fledged gambling addict. Well, no, not really, but he definitely isn't a stranger at the card club or casino. The biggest difference between Big Skill and a legitimate gambling addict is that Big Skill is willing to go do something else when people turn down the casino instead of saying "screw you guys" and going by himself. If Big Skill's group of friends were more into gambling than Kev and I are, there's a decent chance that he would be trying to sell you bootlegged copies of "There Will Be Blood" at the corner of Portland and 8th street on Saturday at 2:30 in the morning. Also, try not to get scared off by his limp and the two missing fingers on his left hand; Bruno told him that it wouldn't happen again if he sold three more DVDs this weekend.

Kev and I have thankfully managed to keep Big Skill's gambling from going to this extreme. Still, there were times when the casino and card club just aren't enough for Big Skill. To feed his inner demon, he has occasionally made "friendly wagers" on baseball games. The rule he went by was he won as long as the team he "wagered" on won by at least two runs. Seems like a decent enough chance to win if you pick the right pitching match-ups; Big Skill did a good job cleaning up in the summer of '04, making a handy "profit" off his "wagers."

Now, here comes the good part. Towards the end of that summer, right before the three of us went back to college, the three of us decided we had to go to one last Twins game. The only game we were able to attend this late in the summer was, unfortunately, against the Royals. Big Skill, convinced that the game would lack entertainment because the Twins (77-58) were playing the lowly Royals (48-86), took all his profits to this point and wagered it on the Twins. This was questionable, since, even though the Royals officially sucked hairy balls at this point, Kyle Lohse was pitching for the Twins. How well do I remember this day? Well enough to link you to this game recap. As you can see, Big Skill did not have a good day.

The fact that Big Skill lost is NOT the funny part of the story, Schadenfreude aside. The funny part was how it happened: Lohse was pitching a decent game, giving up two runs in the 3rd but having shut down the Royals in the first and second. There was still confidence after the third that the Twins would eventually get to Gobble and Lohse would buckle down for the win. Suddenly, in the top of the fourth, Lohse got hit by a line drive. Reports say the ball ricocheted off his glove, but Lohse became obviously rattled and gave up another 4 runs in the 4th inning. Big Skill, realizing his situation around the top of the 5th, angrily went to get a root beer float to calm himself down. His frustration became readily apparent when he screamed at me "I THOUGHT LOHSE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE YOUR BOY!!" (I calmly reminded him that Johan was my boy, and not Lohse. This, shockingly, did not make Big Skill feel any better.)

Begin the bottom of the 5th. Lew Ford grounds out to short. Kind of expected. Christian Guzman starts a miracle rally by hitting a ground rule double. An extra base hit by Christian Guzman was definitely the sign of a miracle starting. Next, Cuddyer walked. Big Skill started getting excited. He could feel the rally beginning, regardless of the fact it was still 6-0 in the bottom of the 5th. Terry Tiffee came up, and cue the obligatory "I'm-Terry-Tiffee-and-I'm-going-to-kill-the-rally strikeout." Big Skill, deflated, sat down and started sipping somberly on his root beer float as 41 year old backup catcher Pat Borders came to the plate, a sure sign that the inning was over.

Then, magic happened. Pat Borders somehow lined a ball into left center; Guzman flew around third, towards home plate. Big Skill, excited and celebrating infinitely more than the situation dictated, made a hilarious yet egregious error: as he jumped out of his seat, his root beer float slipped out of his hand, slammed into his knee, and exploded directly into the head of a middle aged, portly Asian woman sitting in front of him. The force and amount of root beer were similar to this, regardless of the difference in medium. The woman, in one of the most hilarious (for Kev and I) responses possible, refused to turn around. She stared straight ahead, with what I guarantee you was a look of complete horror on her face. Her husband, sitting to her left, quickly patted down the back of her head with paper napkins, glaring at Big Skill. Big Skill did attempt to remedy the situation by going to get more napkins for the woman and her husband, but the damage had been done. I'm sure the two are now die-hard White Sox fans.

As Big Skill ran up the steps to get more napkins, we noticed that four mid-20's guys chased up the stairs after him. Apparently, a drop had gotten on the Doug Mientkiewicz jersey of one of these fans. Assuming that Big Skill apparently aimed the root beer at them through the portly Asian woman's head, they charged after him and confronted him at the napkin dispenser. When I noticed this, I asked Kev if we should go help. Kev looked at the guys running up the stairs, looked back at the game, looked up the stairs, back to the game, took a deep sigh and said: "...He'll be alright." True friendship at it's finest. Big Skill told the four that it was an accident, and though the four were upset and out of breath from the 20 stairs they just ran up (hey, it's a workout for some), let him slide past. When Big Skill returned, he told us what happened, and I told him we saw and Kev's response. Big Skill got even more upset at this, claiming they could have tried to kick his ass, while Kev responded simply: "Hey, you're fine, aren't you?" Big Skill quieted down, focused on the game, and obviously started debating if it was too soon to get another root beer float. The game concluded without another incident (unless you count the six more runs the Twins gave up.)

The moral of the lesson is this: the next time you go to a Twins game, beware the guy behind you sipping a root beer float bitching about how he's about to lose a "friendly wager" on the game. There's a decent chance that he will almost seizure in excitement at the smallest sign of life from his team. The other moral? Everyone should know about Big Skill. Let the Legend begin.

The Morneau Extension

So after talking about the Cuddyer extension yesterday, it only seems fitting to dissect the Morneau extension. Unfortunately, the logic behind this extension is extremely similar to the logic for Cuddyer's extension. The biggest difference is that the Twins actually did sign Morneau to a long term contract, guaranteeing his spot on the team until 2013. Morneau received a $6 mill signing bonus, $7.4 mill in '08, $10.6 mill in '09, and $14 mill per year for '10-'14. This bought out Morneau's remaining years of arbitration (through '10) and his first three years of free agency.

My reaction to this deal? One thumb up, not the double thumbs that Cuddyer got. I'll explain why after a quick statistical rundown. I think we all know Morneau probably won't regain his 2006 "MVP" form again in 2008. You should know why that MVP is in quotation marks. My best guess is that Morneau will have a repeat performance of his 2007 line, roughly his career stats average.

Morneau's 2006 line: .321/.375/.559.
Morneau's 2007 line: .271/.343/.492.
Morneau's career line: .276/.340/.498.

PECOTA, on the other hand, seems to hate Morneau, offering up a line of .271/.339/.465. Since I've used PECOTA before and never explained what it is, I'll give a quick, sloppy explanation for those who have never heard of it: PECOTA was created by Nate Silver of Baseball Prospectus around 2002 or 2003. It stands for Player Empirical Comparison and Optimization Test Algorithm. PECOTA attempts to predict how every player will perform in a given year by comparing each player to historical players with similar attributes. PECOTA looks not only at rate statistics, but also height, weight, age, and other factors. As another side-note, since I did not include it before, Cuddyer's expected 2007 line from PECOTA: .269/.346/.437.

Let's play this safe by looking at a more pessimistic scenario and judging the contract from that point of view. I'm viewing PECOTA as pessimistic because I'm quite optimistic about Morneau's future performance. His numbers last year were hurt by terrible August and September lines (.227/.287/.336 and .215/.324/.333, respectively) during which he claimed the Home Run Derby affected his swing. I don't have a link proving that, because I couldn't find the specific quote, but trust me, he at one point did say this and has decided not to participate in future Home Run Derbies. This is why it's easy to get optimistic about Morneau: going into the All-Star break in 2007, he had a line of .295/.364/.581. Did the Home Run Derby affect his swing and decrease his performance? It's possible. We all know what it did to Bobby Abreu in 2005. It could also be that Morneau simply tired out and didn't have enough left in the tank for the last two months of the season. These are the types of questions the next few years are going to answer. I think it's safe to say that Morneau has shown he is a much improved since his first full year as a starter, when he put up the line .239/.304/.437.

Assuming Morneau performs below his career averages for the duration of this contract, how bad will it hurt us? If you ask me, I'm going to tell you it'll hurt, but it won't cripple. As with the Cuddyer contract, the salaries in '08 and '09 are of little to no importance because the Twins are planning on having a lower payroll and not contending. The interesting part of this contract is the $14 mill per season from 2010 to 2013.

Does anyone out there remember that Adrian Beltre contract from 2004? Beltre had a ridiculous season, going .334/.388/.629. The Mariners, obviously not readers of the Curse of Marty Cordova (because of the contract given after a single year of dominating performance and because this blog started a little over three years after the signing), convinced themselves that Beltre would continue this stellar performance. The Mariners signed Beltre to what was then a massive contract, and Beltre has been a disappointment on the field ever since. How much was the contract for? 5 years, $64 mill. Per year, the contract went $10 mill, $11.5 mill, $11.5 mill, $12 mill, $12 mill. Doesn't seem too ridiculous for today's standards, does it? The Walking Heart Attack signed with the Mariners for 4 years, $48 mill under a month and a half ago. I'd rather have the Walking Heart Attack on my team than Beltre, but the point is that salary inflation over the past four or five years has been ridiculous.

At the rate it's going, we may not be drastically overpaying Morneau in 2012 for his performance, even assuming a worst case scenario level of performance. The beauty of this contract is the fact that it's evenly weighted from 2010 to 2013. With inflating payrolls and contracts, the year that this will hurt us the most is 2010. If Morneau outperforms the PECOTA predictions, as I personally expect he will, the contract looks even better. Do I think we overpaid Morneau? Personally, not really, but that's based on my expectations of his performance. The contract also solidifies first base with a homegrown talent, assists in quieting the complaints about losing Santana, and gives the appearance that the Twins are willing to open the checkbooks for deserving talent. All in all, an understandable and respectable extension.

Mmm... Arepas!

Now I don't know about you, readers, but I enjoy the act of eating. I have built up quite the reputation among the many who have witnessed my unique talent of gorging, though few are fond of my eating techniques. However, I am a human, and cannot reach true levels of binge eating that only professional athletes can.

The reason I bring this up is to highlight my favorite Venezuelan dish: Arepas! A flat, cornmeal patty stuffed with cheese, ground meat... hell, you could throw genuine lard in there if you wanted. They are absolutely delicious, although I wouldn't know because I've never actually eaten one. I'm taking the word of a famous eating phenom, Miguel Cabrera. Miguel, who used to look like this, ballooned up to this when he got addicted to arepas. If you're the average person, you're thinking "Wow, that's unfortunate that he put on so much weight, but good for him to be trimming down again." If you're a twisted bastard like me, you're thinking "Aha! A player on an opposing team has a weakness!!"

Cabrera definitely has the talent to have a Hall of Fame career. The main problem is he's now utilizing those talents for the Detroit Tigers. I am forcing myself to hold off for the next two years, regardless of how beautiful this plan is, but it won't benefit the Twins unless both they and the Tigers are legitimate contenders. In 2010, Miguel Cabrera can expect a present from me: arepas, morning, noon and night, for several days. The answer to both my and Miguel's future cardiologist's twisted dream is Cafe Habana in Royal Oak, Michigan, approximately 20 minutes from Comerica Park. They even serve a breakfast or a lunch/dinner arepa. Although their website doesn't indicate if they deliver, you can be damn sure they will bow to the might of Miguel Cabrera's appetite if he demands delivery. To be absolutely certain, I might deliver the initial arepas myself and include some "powdered sugar" on the breakfast arepas. Now, hoping the effects of the special addition don't override Miguel's love of arepas and turn him into some kind of emaciated freak, we should see one large dude by 2012. It might be in the Tigers best interest to move him to DH at that point, otherwise we may see the first ever on-field heart attack when poor Miguel, sick of the jeers about his weight from the crowd, dives in a futile attempt to stop a sharp grounder from going through the hole.

Be warned, opponents of the Twins: I have chosen to use my genius for evil. And as a realistic side note, yes, this is what I think about in my spare time.

Cuddyer got that extension... why?

As I'm sure you've heard, Michael Cuddyer signed a 3 year, $24 million contract back on January 25th, avoiding arbitration. Details on the contract boil down to a $2.75 mill signing bonus, $5 mill in '08, $6.75 mill in '09, and $8.5 mill in '10 with a team option $10.5 mill in '11 or a $1 mill buyout. Before I start talking about this contract, you should know that I want to be a Michael Cuddyer fan. I started following him in the summer of 2002 as he put up a ridiculous .309/.379/.594 line at Edmonton, which was then Twins the AAA affiliate. I knew less about prospects and development at the time, but Cuddyer became my guy as hitting prospects go. It was the exact same as the way Johan became "my guy" for pitchers, only Cuddyer was unproven and I felt like I had jumped on his bandwagon early. I was excited and thought he would eventually be a great ballplayer. I looked forward to one day rubbing my vast baseball knowledge in other people's faces. Man, was I an ignorant prick.

Now I'm slightly more educated, but still willing to beat people over the head with the baseball stick of knowledge. That's where Cuddyer's new contract comes in. The problem with Cuddyer is that he hasn't met the expectations I put on him back in my youth and has become a below average right fielder. Where do I get off making such an accusation, you ask? How about the fact that Cuddyer had the 22nd highest VORP rate (VORP per game, essentially) of the 37 major league right fielders with a minimum of 200 plate appearances in 2007? This puts him behind Cliff Floyd, Xavier Nady, Randy Winn, and Jose Guillen, among others.

Before I continue, I have to squash the complaint that I know Cuddyer supporters will make: that Cuddyer had an "off year" in 2007 but was much stronger in 2006. That's half right, as Cuddyer was stronger in 2006. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Cuddyer had a career year in 2006 that's likely not going to be repeated.

Cuddyer's 2006 line: .284/.362/.504.
Cuddyer's 2007 line: .276/.356/.433.
Cuddyer's career majors line: .270/.346/.450.
Cuddyer's career minors line: .290/..379/.485.

Cuddyer's minors line may give you hope, but the average baseball player loses 18% of their offensive ability moving from the minors to the majors. It's not necessary to go through the calculations to figure out park factors and all that, I just included the tidbit to show that Cuddyer's careers majors line is indicative of his ability and not thrown off much by his earlier call-ups in 2001-03.

So, why did we sign Cuddyer to an extension? Simply put, to quell the complaining by the Twins' fan base about the Johan trade. That trade was going to happen, regardless of what we got in return. Billy Smith, although possibly screwing up what he could have gotten for Johan, needed to get at least something in return. The team isn't going to contend in 2008, with or without Johan, and the package we received is better than two compensatory draft picks. Why we didn't sign Johan to an extension is a longer discussion that merits a post of its own.

When I first heard about the signing, I was furious. The more I think about it though, the more I like it. Removing Santana and Hunter from the team is going to decrease the team's payroll by a combined $24 million in 2008. We're not competing, so spending that money on expensive free agents is a no-no. Instead, why not buy out the arbitration years and first year of free agency of a below-average yet fan favorite player? The average Twins fan views Cuddyer as part of the Twins "core" and thinks he's essential for the Twins long term success. The contract guarantees he will be around when the new stadium opens in 2010. Also, the fourth year club option means two things: first, that the Twins can claim Cuddyer is signed "past the opening of the new stadium;" second, it means that if Cuddyer hasn't improved (which is likely) or the free agency market hasn't continued its drastic inflation (less likely), they can cut ties in 2011 for the meager cost of $1 mill.

Does this extension improve the Twins long term? No, but it was a brilliant public relations move by Billy Smith. This extension, and the Morneau extension which I'll talk about at a later date, has made nonchalant Twins fans believe that Billy's willing to spend to keep homegrown talent on the roster. The average fan is now more optimistic for the team's long term prospects and less likely to riot over the departure of Santana. Also, because the Twins are currently in non-contention mode with a decreased payroll, the only person that's negatively effected by slightly overpaying Cuddyer is this guy. So, a tip of the hat to Billy Smith for an intelligent decision on this one. Consider this your baseball stick of knowledge beating for the day.

Carl Pohlad and Johan Santana: The Final Conversation.

Before reading the rest of this post, there are a few things the reader should know. First and foremost, any "conversation" post is intended to be solely for humor. It is unrealistic, not intended to be an accurate representation of the personalities involved, nor to defame any individual involved. The personalities attached to the names are extreme caricatures chosen primarily because, well, they're funny. Views given by said caricatures also do not necessarily have any relation to the views of the author(s). Secondly, these posts are inspired by the hilarious conversation pieces done by Orson Swindle at Every Day Should Be Saturday. Third, this entire conversation was a joint effort with Kev. He gets at least as much credit as I do for this final product. And now.. CURTAIN!

A disheveled, old man sits hunched over his large, oak desk, wearing a wrinkled and gray suit. It’s Minnesota Twins owner Carl Pohlad. He jumps at the sound of the buzzer on his desk:

Dave St. Peter (over the intercom): “Sir, Johan Santana is here to see you.”

Carl Pohlad: “Eh? What? Peters, what are you doing on the intercom? What happened to Cindy?”

St. Peter: “It’s St. Peter, sir, and you fired her. You said that I could handle both workloads and that it would be more cost-effective.”

Pohlad: “Well stop dallying then and do your job, Peters! Send him in!” (Pohlad plasters a toothy, twisted smile on his face. His teeth, ravaged by years of coffee drinking, now have the coloring of a corpse in the early stages of rigermortis)

St. Peter: “St. Peter, sir. Right away.”

Johan, clad in a white, three piece suit, sidles into the room. He removes his sunglasses, brushes his goatee, smugly smiles to himself, and sits down.

Santana: “You asked to see me, Mr. Pohlad?”

Pohlad: “Yes, yes. What is this nonsense I’ve heard about you demanding a trade, Joe-han?”

Santana: (Seeing Pohlad’s smile clearly for the first time, Johan gives a start and quickly looks away in horror) “Well sir, its Johan, and I –”

Pohlad: “That’s what I said, Joe-han. Let me put it bluntly, son. People around here seem to like you; popularity sells tickets, and a ticket being sold means we’re making money. I know I’m not speaking a language you players understand, but I’m willing to do whatever it will take to keep you around here.”

Santana: (Looking away) “I already made my contract –”

Pohlad: “Damnit son, don’t interrupt me! I know how hard it is to have the life of a baseball player, so I’m willing to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

Santana: (Looking down) “That’s very gracious of you.” (thinking to himself: “I can probably wrangle a few more dollars out of Omar by using this old coot”). “I thought Billy Smith was holding out on me.”

Pohlad: (to himself: “Who the hell is Billy Smith?”) “Damn straight it is, just don’t let any of the rest of the personnel know about it. I don’t want those bastards coming up and clamoring for special treatment. This isn’t some kind of goddamn charity! And for the love of God, don’t say anything about unions!”

The intercom buzzes quickly.

St. Peter (over the intercom): “Sir, I need to know if –”

Pohlad: “QUIET, PETERS! NOT NOW! As I was saying, Joe-han, special treatment. We’re going to call the local ice company and have them proceed to your house first from now on. No more melting ice for you, Joe-han; your milk will stay fresh for days longer. (Meeting Johan’s gaze, eyes bugging out) How’s that sound Joe-han? Hmmmm? Hmmmm?

Santana: (His face now a mixture of discomfort and terror) “Sir? There’s no such thing as an ice company anymore.”

Pohlad: “What?” (Pohlad slams his fist down on the intercom. Johan jumps back in his chair.) “PETERS! What the hell is this about no more ice companies?”

St. Peter: “Sir, those went out of business after –”

Pohlad: “GODDAMNIT PETERS!” (Pohlad removes his fist from the intercom and plasters the twisted smile back on) “Even without the ice companies, Joe-han, we can treat you right here at the Minnesota Twins. Now I know that it gets hot here in Minnesota in the summer, even for you Dominicans –”

Santana: (still unable to meet Pohlad’s gaze) “I’m Venezuelan, sir.”

Pohlad : “Huh? Whatever, I don’t care. As I was saying, Recently there have been some brilliant new inventions in terms of domicile cooling units. What I’m offering you is essentially a magic box that you put in your window. You simply turn it on and it will mysteriously decrease the temperature of your residence to a comfortable level.”

Santana: (with great effort, Santana grits his teeth and meets Pohlad’s gaze) “Do you mean an air conditioner? A wall mounted air-conditioner? I’m sorry sir, but I have central air, sir”

Pohlad: “What?!” (muttering under his breath) “Central air?!? The hell is that? Damn Peters not keeping me informed. Damn kids and their technology! (looking up, re-plastering twisted smile on his face) Alright, look Joe-han. I normally don’t do this, but you’ve put me in quite the situation. Stay in Minnesota, and I’ll finagle you a legitimate residence in our country. I believe you people call them green cards. Lou Dobbs tells me none of you Cubans have them. I can give you one.”

Santana: (teeth still clenched, sweat starting to form on his brow) “Excuse me?”

Pohlad: “Look, I’ve done this type of thing before. It’s a shame that Rincon kid got busted for drug trafficking or whatever and tanked after I went through all that trouble. Just give me all the specifics on your date of birth, birthplace, and so forth so it’s easier for you to remember if you’re ever questioned on it.” (Pohlad leans across the desk, his twisted grin is now mere inches from Johan’s face)

Santana (Johan’s face drops, his eyes closed tight. He jumps from the chair, his eyes still shut tightly. He starts from the room, bumps into the door, locates it and turns around, eyes still clenched shut and voice cracking): “You’ll hear from my lawyers, sir.”

Pohlad: (the twisted grin falls from his face, replaced by a look of blind rage) “Nobody walks out on me!” (slams his hand onto the intercom again) “PETERS! Go find a hobo! Put him in that miniature coliseum we keep down underneath the visitor’s locker room! I’m going to throw coins at him and watch the bastard scramble! And make sure you call the accountant! I’m going to write it off as a charitable contribution!”

St. Peter (sighing): It’s St. Peter, sir. I’ll get on it right away.

2007 one of the "most talented" Twins teams ever? Really, Jim?

In a recent Star-Trib article, Jim Souhan made the argument that Twins should spend more when they have a chance to make a run at the World Series. I agree with this, but I don't agree with the second claim he made that the 2007 Twins had "one of the most talented rosters in franchise history." Now, I don't know about you, but I'd like to think that one of the most talented teams in franchise history would finish better than 3rd in the division, 17 games behind the division leader. The debate of which Twins teams did have the most talent in franchise history is intriguing, but we're going to hold off on that for now. Instead, we're going to take the notion of the 2007 Twins being one one of the team's most talented incarnations and bitch-slap it back to hell.

The first question obviously becomes, how do we determine the "talent" level of a team? I decided to go with the overall VORP accumulated by a team's hitters and pitchers; higher overall VORP implies higher expected run differential, which in turn implies more wins. I chose this because I felt like it best described "talent" best for a team, as opposed to just run differential or winning percentage. Here are two links you can use to find any VORP data you want for hitters or pitchers.

For the 2007 Twins, we have:

2007 Twins Hitters: Combined VORP of 92.7.
2007 Twins Pitchers: Combined VORP of 232.0.
Combined 2007 Twins VORP: 324.7.

Ouch. That means that if we trotted out AAA players all year, we theoretically would have only scored about 93 less runs. (Yes, I realize that's not the way VORP works. I'm generalizing for effect, here.) A few players of note: of course, Johan paved the way with a VORP of 57.7. Carlos "The Walking Heart Attack" Silva managed a VORP of 35.5 while relievers were lead by Matt Guerrier's VORP of 36.8. On the other end of the spectrum: The Piranha! Putting forth a herculean effort, the Piranha accumulated a mighty VORP of -27.1. Although not quite one of the worst seasons in history, it's far from desirable. Rondell White and Alexi Casilla didn't help the Twins cause either, posting VORPS of -8.8 and -10.9, respectively.

I hear your next question: "So, Curse of Marty Cordova, who are you going to compare this stellar group of ballplayers to?" Let's start with one of the most popular versions of the Twins: the 1991 World Series champions.

1991 Twins Hitters: Combined VORP of 240.8
1991 Twins Pitchers: Combined VORP of 238.1
Combined 1991 Twins VORP: 478.9.

That's over 150 runs better than the 2007 Twins. Now, obviously what precisely this means is more complicated than that, but it's easy to see that the 1991 Twins were more "talented." Feel free to take a look at the data for some interesting facts, such as Kevin Tapani in '91 outpitched Johan in '07. Also, the '91 Twins simply hit better: Cuddyer's VORP of 18.4 was fourth best on the 2007 Twins, but only would have made him 7th best on the '91 Twins. Kirby Puckett and Chili Davis also posted VORPS of +40, while the 2007 Twins had no players obtain a VORP above 40.

Okay, but those Twins were World Champions, not just a run of the mill club. Even such a large gap between the two doesn't mean that the '07 Twins can't be one of the "most talented Twins teams ever," right? Well, how about the 1996 Twins, in the midst of the most recent dark age for the Twins, who finished 21.5 games back in their division?

1996 Twins Hitters: Combined VORP of 193.2.
1996 Twins Pitchers: Combined VORP of 205.6.
Combined 1996 Twins VORP: 398.8.

That's still about 75 runs above the 2007 Twins. Still, you could argue the number is thrown off slightly by an absurd year by Chuck Knoblauch (VORP of 98.8). So how about the 1979, 82-win Twins?

1979 Twins Hitters: Combined VORP of 171.1.
1979 Twins Pitchers: Combined VORP of 219.8.
Combined 1979 Twins VORP: 390.9.

Still a solid 65 runs higher than the 2007 Twins. To put this in even more perspective, let's compare the 2007 Twins to the 2007 Cleveland Indians, who actually won the division.

2007 Cleveland Hitters: Combined VORP of 200.6.
2007 Cleveland Pitchers: Combined VORP of 258.7.
Combined 2007 Indians VORP of: 459.3.

Cleveland posted a mighty 135 runs higher than the Twins. Closing that gap is going to take personnel improvements in multiple areas, something the Twins couldn't have realistically done last year.

You may be thinking "Hey, your argument only works because the Twins underperformed relative to 2006!" Yeah, in a way, that's true. Some Twins did perform below their expectations in 2007, such as Johan Santana or the Piranha (who, although normally not good, brought "bad" an epic level last year.) Then again, other players such as Torii Hunter and Matt Guerrier overperformed relative to their career averages. Mauer and Cuddyer both had large jumps in slugging in 2006, while Morneau had a large jump in his OBP; large single year jumps are rarely repeated and the player's performance tends to trend back down to the players average levels.

In other words, going into the 2007 season, we had Santana, Silva, and unknowns for our rotation. We didn't have strong options at DH, LF, 3B or 2B and could also expect some level of regression from our RF, 1B, and C. Although it was nice to dream before the season that the Twins could repeat their impressive 2006 performance, it was something that wasn't realistically going to happen. Sorry Jim, but breaking the bank to try and make a title run in 2007 would NOT have been an intelligent option.

Quick retroactive side note:

Anybody that reads this blog should know that I do not create nearly any of the ideas posted on this blog in a vacuum. There are two people in particular who help me come up with most of the ideas that will be posted here: Mark "Big Skill" and Kevin "Kev." These two are very good friends of mine and I talk to both of them about baseball multiple times a day.

Specifically, the overall post idea about analyzing centerfield was Kev's idea, and third base was Big Skill's. Also, Big Skill was the one who came up with the point that Dallas McPherson would've been a good fit for the Twins, and Kev has been a large proponent of the Andy LaRoche trade idea. This blog doesn't exist without those two, so I am going to give credit where it's due.

(Also, Big Skill would almost definitely prefer to be called "Mark." However, this is my blog, and we're going to use the nickname Big Skill. "Kev" will be replaced with a suitable nickname when one is created.)

PECOTA projections are back!

Nate Silver just put up his PECOTA weighted mean spreadsheets the other day, giving us our first opportunity to see the predicted offensive outputs of all major league players. What does this mean? Obviously, it is time to instill some fear of the piranha! We will get to that soon enough. First, let me just say that I'm going to focus solely on the offensive projections of PECOTA, as I have little faith in the defensive projections. Why? Well, Carlos Gomez, whom every scout claims is a defensive stud and could be the best defensive center fielder in the majors if we let him play this year, is projected to be below average. Case closed.

For the uninitiated, VORP stands for "Value Over Replacement Player." It is calculated by the fine folks at Baseball Prospectus and essentially can be interpreted as the number of runs a given player would be expected to add to a lineup of league average players over what a "replacement level" player would add. Replacement level is a level of skill that is easily available to all teams: utility players, career journeymen, or AAA call-ups would be replacement level players. A more in-depth description and the math behind the statistic can be found here.

First, the good: Mauer and Delmon Young. That's about it. Mauer's expected VORP is third in among major league catchers behind Posada and Victor Martinez, mainly due to Mauer's lower level of slugging. Delmon is expected to have the 10th highest VORP among right fielders, although we'll probably have him in left, where he would have the 11th highest VORP. Either way, not bad for a guy who's only 22 with a large upside. Third for the Twins in VORP is Morneau, expected to have the 15th highest VORP among major league first basemen. PECOTA expects him to still have a bit of upside, but considering the contract he just signed, I'd hope he does a little better than the 15th highest VORP of all first basemen.

Now, the bad: the rest of the lineup. Suppose we come out with the infield as Lamb, Everett, Harris. Harris's expected VORP of 14.1 is 25th among 2B, but hey, it beats Lamb's expected VORP of 4.4. Even better? Everett, while only projected to only be healthy for half the season, is expected to put up the stellar VORP of -4.4. Score, replacement level! Everett's expected line? .233/.275/.320. Only slightly better: the Piranha with a line of .238/.309/.321! Apparently, expect around 20 extra base hits from the Piranha and an OBP similar to Mauer's batting average. But damn, the Piranha is scrappy.

This mention of wood allergies and defensive scrappiness brings to mind the scenario that is both awesome and terrifying at the same time: David Eckstein was a free agent until signing with the Jays on a one year, $4.5 mill contract on December 13th. Can you imagine the scrappiness level of an infield with Punto at third, Everett at short, and Eckstein at second? Plus, you can put them at the 7-8-9 spots in the order and you know when you're safe to go get some more salsa and beer. As I said, it's amazing and horrifying all at once. Instead, we'll have to deal with the less amazing and slightly less horrifying scrappiness level of Punto and Everett at the same time. It (thankfully) won't happen every night, but you're a fool if you think Gardy won't use Punto as a utility player to replace Lamb or Harris every once in a while, getting the two scrappiest Twins on the field at the same time. They attack like small dogs, with a fire and tenacity that cannot be matched!
















It's not the size of the dog in the scrap, but the level of scrappiness in the dog.

There's a bit of a hole on that left side...

So, now that we've talked about center, let's talk about another place the Twins are lacking. I'm talking about the massive hole at third that hasn't had a decent solution since Corey Koskie left after 2004. And yes, I'm claiming Koskie was a decent solution, since he put up a .292/.393/.452 line in 2003. What do we have now? Mike Lamb. Hey, I'll take it for now, because we don't have a decent 3B prospect in the farm system. He's cheap, at only $3.3 mill per, and his career .339 OBP has been helped by consecutive years of +.360 OBP. While I'm not impressed by single year increases, I am intrigued two consecutive years of improved progress. (Unless it's two consecutive contract years, Torii. I'm expecting you to drop back down to a VORP of approximately 20 and continue your subpar defense in center.) Of course, Lamb only serves as a temporary stopgap to make the Twins look like they are trying to compete. What's the long term solution?

That's where things get a little more hairy. Right now, the answer is "unknown." A big shame is that the Marlins signed Dallas McPherson to a one year contract worth $425k two days ago. Look, I know he's gotta love getting that opportunity to play in the majors this year, but the Twins could have tried to offer him $600k or so to spend the year at AAA. If he did take it, there's a decent shot that he could have done well (possibly well enough to get pulled up and replace Lamb) and be the long term solution for 3B; the guy would only be 29 in 2010. Would have been a great low-risk with a potential high-reward signing, but the Marlins got it so... Tip of the hat towards Michael Hill.

Free agents aren't looking like a great plan for 2010, either. I haven't done extensive amounts of research on this, but let's be honest: anybody that's going to be a free agent 3B in 2010 is either a) going to be signed by their team by a long term deal before then, b) a more expensive option, c) be an older option and not a "long-term" option beyond 3 years, or d) flat out just not that good. This is why McPherson would have been such a steal; you can't predict finding a guy who tore it up in the minors but has been hampered by injuries.

So what is the best option? Probably moving some of the massive amounts of pitching talent we have for a third baseman. I think it's safe to say we're not getting Evan Longoria, so let's not even bother with that idea. Andy LaRoche? It's possible: The Dodgers rotation currently looks like Brad Penny, Derek Lowe, Chad Billingsly, Hiroki Kuroda, and then either Esteban Loiaza or Jason Schmidt. Clayton Kershaw is still 19 and in AA, but he's going to be a great player they'll be expecting him to come up by 2011 at the latest. Chad Billingsly is under contract until 2013 and Penny has a club option for 2009. This could work, depending on how the Dodgers feel about keeping Penny and Lowe after 2008. The Dodgers are still tentative to let LaRoche play, forcing him to try and beat out Nomar in spring training, but does anybody really think LaRoche won't? Even if the Dodgers don't plan on using him this year, they have to think that he's the long term solution. It's worth a shot, but I have trouble seeing this one go through.

But what about Chase Headley? You have to assume Maddux will retire in the next few years, and Randy Wolf probably won't be kept around by the Padres after his contract runs up this year. Assuming they resign Chris Young (We'll treat Peavy as an automatic) they still have a few rotation spots up in the air. Their best pitching prospect, Mat Latos, is still 20 and pitched last year in low-A. Their best starter who spent the entire year at AAA was Jack Cassel, who posted a 3.91 ERA. Tim Stauffer also posted a 4.34 ERA for them in AAA, when all their other pitchers with at least 40 IP in AAA last year posted +5.20 ERAs. A little youngblood pitching could help them out. Plus, they already have Kevin Kouzmanoff at third blocking Headley's way. Would Humber and Blackburn be enough to get it done? I think it could work. You have to be careful when you deal with Kevin Towers, but hey, it's a trade that makes sense. I don't see the problem with getting on the phone and testing those waters out.

Other possibilities? Brandon Wood would be solid, and he's blocked by Chone Figgins right now. The problem with the Angel is they're pretty solid on pitching. They're weak at the AAA level, but unless they decide not to resign John Lackey, Kelvim Escobar, and Jon Garland in the next two years, they don't really need much help. Ervin Santana and Jered Weaver are still under arbitration until '11 and '12, respectively. Convincing them to trade Wood for a few pitching prospects would be harder than deals with the Dodgers or Padres.

Unless I'm forgetting someone, that's about it for strong 3B prospets that will be ready in the next year or two. Yes, there are younger guys out there who might be ready by 2010. However, those players are far enough off that I'm less enthusiastic about those options. The further you get from the major league level, the higher the risk of the prospect getting a freak injury or flaming out. Let's hope that my fantasy involving Chase Headley goes through instead of Kevin Towers taking advantage of Billy Smith. Either that, or Billy calls up Ned Colletti and tells him to check out that highlight video of Nomar from 2006 and convinces Ned: "Hey, he's 34, but he has the athleticism of a 26 year old! I'm sure he can play another five or six years!"

(Note: Billy Smith may be a brilliant GM. Rumors are he's a very smart guy, and the makings of an excellent GM. So far, I see glimpses of it, but consider me still bitter about the Santana haul; hence, dunce.)

Also, no, the piranha is NOT an option at third base. anybody that was thinking that, please, just don't read this blog. You and I aren't going to agree on much.
















Go for the ankles! GO FOR THE ANKLES!!!