Game Twenty-Two
Another blowout. There’s just not much negative to say.
The one interesting thing is John Jaso’s development and progression. Let’s be clear: John Jaso is not a true talent .455/.606/.727 hitter. I know, I know, that disappoints me too. ZiPS had Jaso projected to be around a league average hitter, which is immensely valuable from the catcher’s position, particularly for a lefty batter. The defensive issues with Jaso have seemingly been overblown. As encouraging as that is, it’s also a bit of a shame, because it makes Dioner Navarro and Michel Hernandez collecting so many plate appearances last season seem wasteful.
The funny thing is how Joe Maddon seems to be explaining the situation to Navarro. Telling him they’re playing the hot hand. Uh, right. More like they’re playing the better hitter. Understandably Maddon isn’t going to tell Navarro he’s been atrocious, and he’s certainly not going to do so in the press. Instead, we’ll be treated to quotes like this:
SunSportsRays
Maddon on Jaso: “We’ve got to give him a chance to really run with this and see where it takes him now, for him and for us.” – DS
Game Twenty-One
Ho-hum, another big win thanks to an offensive explosion in the middle of the game.
The only managerial decision to speak of is when Gabe Kapler was lifted for Reid Brignac in the fifth inning against righty Tyson Ross with runners on. Tommy said pinch hit, I said hold off. Mostly because it was the fifth inning of a close game. Yeah, you can say go for the gusto, but at the same time, there were no signs that the game would suddenly break open, making the A’s and their multiple lefties in the pen a dangerous proposition against Brignac – although Sean Rodriguez was available off the bench for a pinch hitting call if needed. It comes down to how good you think Brignac is versus righties, and then if that number is still markedly better than Kapler’s ~.300 wOBA against righties.
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Jason Bartlett has a .329 BABIP and a .307 wOBA.
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Pat Burrell only has a .320 wOBA, but his ISO is .192. That’s nearly a .050 point improvement over his 2009 figure. I’m skeptical of Burrell’s approach this season. He’s swinging out of the zone more often and making contact less often. It seems — and this is just observational and anecdotal – that Burrell is just sitting on fastballs; hence why he’s often caught missing or looking at sliders on the inside corner.
Game Twenty
The news concerning the biggest object of the day was unquestionable Dioner Navarro’s suspension. It’s two games and comes as no shock. In his wake, the Rays demoted Mike Ekstrom and promoted Jose Lobaton. The former served his purpose as the ho-hum long-man who Joe Maddon used only when the game was well out of hand either way. Lobaton is like a Navarro starter kit. He’s a switch-hitter who walked and struck out quite a bit in the minors until he reached Triple-A. Baseball America praised Lobaton’s defense last season and the Rays acquired him on July 30th in a waiver claim from the San Diego Padres.
That leaves the Rays with a six-man bullpen until Navarro returns and the Rays (presumably) call upon Joaquin Benoit. The Mariners just got done experimenting with a six-man pen, but unlike the M’s front office, I do think the Rays can afford to roll with this for a while. On any given day, the Rays can use Lance Cormier, Andy Sonnanstine, and/or Grant Balfour for multiple innings, with Rafael Soriano (he’s the closer, duh), Randy Choate, and Dan Wheeler acting as the specialists. Once J.P. Howell returns, he too could go multiple innings, as could Benoit. Probably won’t happen though. Alas.
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Maddon let Choate face a righty tonight. The situation allowed for it though. Choate was brought in to face Daric Barton in the sixth. He got his man. Then he stayed in to face Ryan Sweeney and Eric Chavez. Again, easy as cake. Kevin Kouzmanoff batted ahead of Gabe Gross, and in a three run game, with nobody on and two outs, Maddon figured he’d try to milk the lefty versus lefty match-up just a little more. And then … Maddon pulled him, but only because Bob Geren decided to pinch hit for Gross with righty Jake Fox.
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That was about it. One of the quieter 8-6 ballgames you’ll ever see from a managerial perspective.
Game Nineteen
David Price is good. Enough said.
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Also, this is probably worth a link. Joe Maddon is using his bullpen well, when judged by leverage and projected ERA.
The Freaks
Completely off-topic, but with Tim Lincecum’s velocity loss and Alex Rodriguez’s unwritten rule-breaking in the news, I figured it would be nice to dust off a piece I wrote over the off-season that (until now) was unpublished. For those who care not of either, skip it. Otherwise, I hope it raises thought. Apologies if not.
To earn a nickname like ‘The Freak’, one must presumably exhibit qualities otherwise rare or unknown to the population. Defining the population in which the attributes must be of similar quantity as unicorns is where the line must be drawn. Pick a player from any of the four professional sports leagues in the United States. Any player. He’s an athletic freak when the sample is composed of the entire United States or world’s population.
The great irony with such a nickname is that it loses all value once it becomes commonplace. Take Tennessee Titans’ era (the first time) Jevon Kearse, the guy who was most commonly associated with the nickname in the last decade. When he faced off with Jonathan Ogden of the Baltimore Ravens, it was freak on freak action. Or, since nobody had labeled Ogden with the nickname, it was ‘Freak’ on freak action.
The problem with nicknames like ‘The Freak’ is that some people misidentify what population these athletes are freaks of. Go back to the Ogden versus Kearse example. Kearse stood 6’4”, weighed 265 pounds, and still ran the 40-yard dash in 4.43 seconds. Meanwhile Ogden was 6’9”, 340 pounds, and had longer reach than most phone towers. These two lined up and went as hard and fast at each other as they physically could endure. Cops would stand to the side, hockey referee style, if this happened on a sidewalk and let the two behemoths tire themselves out.
Both are athletic freaks no matter the sample, but such a descriptive nickname lives and dies on relativity. Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines ‘freak’ as “[One] that is markedly unusual or abnormal.” That definition gives the impression that this is a tag used on victors of the genetic lottery.
The San Francisco Giants’ official website lists Timothy LeRoy Lincecum’s height at 5’11” and his weight at 170 pounds. Tim Lincecum is known as ‘The Freak’. The last two sentences are factually true yet contradict the very definition of the word ‘freak’ since Lincecum is essentially average height and weight.
Much like how the wings themselves are not the most important part in flight. Looks are not the most important in the land of freak either. Lincecum’s ability to pitch baseballs in the mid-nineties with precision and movement certainly places him in a special bucket of individuals, but even that is not why such a nickname has been bestowed upon the shaggy-haired hipster. It has nothing to do with his static body and everything to do with his body in motion.
The story goes like this: Lincecum’s father taught him how to pitch. From grips to strategy to delivery to torque, most of the knowledge Lincecum has was acquired from his father. Nothing unusual there, since this seemingly holds true for most folk; father-son games of catch are routine and build baseball knowledge bases as much as any other activity can growing up.
What is unusual, though, is how Father Lincecum taught the kid to pitch. Lincecum is portrayed as a mellow twenty-something slacker kid who just so happens to pitch well. In reality, he is a heaven-sent instrument of durability and triumph. When Lincecum pitches, people pay attention, and not in the Pedro Martinez or Greg Maddux sense. More like the way people tend to notice Chad Bradford or Dan Quisenberry pitching.
This isn’t about beauty or art, it’s about grotesque deliveries. So grotesque that when people stop and watch not in admiration, but in reassurance that what they just saw really happened. You see, Lincecum’s delivery is violent, sudden, herky-jerky, and as raw as any in the league. There’s a certain degree of unnaturalness about it all. Lincecum is slender, small, pale, and generic. For him to commit such an act … well, it’s astonishing. This is beginning to sound like Lincecum was just indicted for several counts of murder, but that’s the truth.
How to describe his delivery. Well, his front leg extends well beyond his body as he winds back, leaning heavily to one side, as if dodging a bullet. One the front leg crashes down, Lincecum whips his arm through, releasing the ball, before simulating the motion of picking a dollar bill off the ground. Horrible description and a cop-out, but one really has to see it to experience how wicked the entire sequence is. Call it Eddie Brock syndrome, Lincecum is simply the enabler to the real freak.
Here’s the juicy part: Nobody thought Lincecum could survive with such a delivery. Okay, someone did, since the Giants drafted him, but even they moved him aggressively towards the Majors because A) he dominated the minors like none other and B) who knows how many pitches that arm has in it before his starting days are history.
Lincecum has undoubtedly heard and answered thousands of questions about his physical durability. So much that his mental durability might be his finest asset. It would be of no surprise or dishonor if Lincecum possessed immense amounts of self doubt. Everyone else has doubted him, how could that not seep into him at some point?
Maybe Lincecum has a huge ego. Again, no blame his way. What is an ego, but a way of surviving the world? Perhaps ego is the wrong term to throw around. The word carries a negative connotation and leads to labels of arrogance and self-absorbed. Pride, which is generally accepted as an ego that fits reasoned bounds, is what some would call it.
The problem with the ego talk is that nobody can accurately suggest that such and such has a big ego. The only ego size we know is our own, and while we can pick up clues through conversation and interaction with others, there is no quantitative measure of ego size. To say one has a big ego is merely to say, “Hey, I disagree with that fellow’s high assessment of his self.” People always misjudge their own skills and ego size anyways by giving themselves too much or too little credit.
If pride is ego to a reasonable extent on a person-by-person basis, then saying a baseball player is egotistical or arrogant is asinine. Of course they have more pride than the average human beings. They also have larger muscles, throw harder, run faster, and use pine in the destruction of cowhide. Why would they not have bigger egos or more pride?
Alex Rodriguez is widely perceived as the most egotistical player in baseball. He makes the most money and takes the most heat in large part because of it. As a baseball player, he is fantastic. He walks, hits home runs, used to play stellar defense at a premium position, and doesn’t cannibalize the bat boys. It’s the other stuff. Like dating washed up musicians, spray tans and spiked highlights, and enjoying portraits of himself as a centaur that seemingly causes conflict.
Well, that’s not entirely true. See, that stuff and his pay are the catalysts for a fine-toothed comb investigation of his playing. And since finding a weakness in Rodriguez’ game is difficult; this becomes a more in-depth investigation than most criminal trials. It comes down to small sample sizes and nitpicking and it comes down hard. But, this is the New York media, where integrity and acceptance aren’t tolerated. Not only is this behavior expected, but it’s encouraged. So Rodriguez is painted as a goat (as opposed to a centaur) and a limelight hogging synthetic jerk.
The majority of Yankee fans would likely agree that Babe Ruth is the best Yankee ever. He loved hot dogs, home runs, women, children, hot dogs, and dingers. He also loved being the center of attention. That last part is skipped in the Bambino shows they run on the YES Network, but think about the most prevalent Ruth story in existence.
That moment is known as The Called Shot. The year is 1932. It’s game three of the World Series. The New York Yankees are at Wrigley Field and leading the Chicago Cubs in the series (2-0) and the game. Ruth is at the dish down two strikes and taking grief from the Cubs’ dugout. He’s homered once already, and he makes a gesture towards center field or the right field bleachers (depending on what story is to be trusted) before stepping back into the box.
On the third pitch after the pointing, Ruth homers to center. As he rounds the bases, he’s mocking and waving at the Cubs’ dugout. This is the World Series. This is the biggest game of the season. Babe Ruth just homered for the second time in the game, yes, but he also just made the entire scene all about him. Now maybe the scene was already about him, but he just ensured it.
In 2007, on the night of the fourth game of the World Series, Rodriguez and his agent Scott Boras announced Rodriguez’ intent to opt out of his contract and test the free agency market. Many media members slammed Rodriguez decision while pegging him as selfish and disrespectful to the game. True, Rodriguez was not involved in the series, but that only changes the terms used. Instead of disrespecting the game, he’s disrespecting his team. And so on.
Rodriguez cannot win. He cannot go on television or on the record and discuss his plight as a paid man. He cannot discuss the media’s attempt to place the guilt of success upon him. Does he work the hardest or the longest of any other player in the league? Almost certainly not. But here’s the thing: He doesn’t have to. He is amongst the league’s best players annually and all-time. If Rodriguez is lazy or apathetic about baseball and his abilities, then there is no question about who the greatest player ever is.
The real crime here is that Rodriguez has no idea what he’s done wrong. He has no way of evaluating his ego. He looks at Derek Jeter and he sees an equal in ego, a lesser performer, and yet a more royally treated person. Maybe Rodriguez doesn’t see that. Maybe he holds Jeter higher than himself. And maybe that hurts Rodriguez more than anything else.
Rodriguez has accomplished plenty for him to look in the mirror and feel a swell of pride. He has, mostly, earned having a high evaluation of himself. The Seattle Mariners chose him first overall in the 1993 amateur draft out of Westminster Christian High School. Rodriguez was 18-years-old at the time.
Nary a year later, he reached the Majors as a 19-year-old. As a 20-year-old , Rodriguez would become the Mariners’ starting shortstop. In 1996 he would play in 146 games, hit 54 doubles, 36 home runs, and boast a second place finish in the Most Valuable Player award voting, a Silver Slugger award, and an All-Star appearance. A year later he would reach his second All-Star game and Rodriguez has reached a dozen through the 2009 season.
He won the 2001, 2002, 2003, and 2007 Hank Aaron Awards; the 2009 Babe Ruth Award; the 2003, 2005, and 2007 Most Valuable Player Awards; two Gold Gloves; ten Silver Slugger awards; and in 2009 his first World Series championship. Rodriguez has lead the Majors in home runs five times, in games played there times, in runs five times, and in OPS twice.
Rodriguez could retire today, or tomorrow, or as a 30-year-old and he would still be a Hall of Famer. Talents like his simply don’t come around often. Along the way he’s become a caricature of a great player; a piece from a comedy skit or an Onion article more than a real person. The steroids controversy was the most pretentious scene of media obsession for about a month until the Manny Ramirez’s scandal or maybe a year until the Tiger Woods’ melodrama.
The best part about those things is the amount of fake outrage cooked up by hypocritical folk who slam athletes for not doing everything to get better, and then bash them for going too far when they literally do everything. You can be a role model and a model roller at the same time. Baseball players hid things successfully all the time back in the day, before internet, social media, or constant news cycles. Suddenly the reporter gene has kicked in with a shot of growth hormone and sprinkle of obsession for good measure.
The oversensitivity to things nowadays has really thrown everyone off-balance. Everyone had a feel on the moral equilibrium and now things are all shook up and unknown. People have to question and rethink every step they take and every delivery they make under these new rules, otherwise they will be damned. It’s unnatural. It’s grotesque. It’s freakish.
Game Eighteen
Three things.
1. Ben Zobrist sacrificed … again
This time with Jason Bartlett on and one out. Evan Longoria was then intentionally walked, and the left-handed starter (Ricky Romero) struck out the southpaw Carlos Pena. E
Whether this is Joe Maddon’s decision or not is irrelevant, it’s the wrong call. Maddon could very well be giving his players the clearance to steal and bunt whenever they feel suited to. I don’t see anything inherently wrong with that. I’m not sure it’s the best method, but I’m also not sure there is a best method. Whoever is making the decision is hurting the team. That’s the bottom line.
2. Dan Wheeler versus Alex Gonzalez
Maddon had Lance Cormier intentionally walk Lyle Overbay with a runner on third and two outs so Wheeler could enter and face the helpless Gonzalez. Overbay is a better hitter than Gonzalez and the move didn’t advance the runner. Plus, with two outs. I don’t see this as a big deal either way, honestly.
3. Jeff Niemann
He entered the game with seven strikeouts on the season. He exited with fifteen. I think that says a bit about the quality of Toronto’s lineup.
Game Seventeen
Remember that Morgan Ensberg post on stolen bases? I assume Ben Zobrist and B.J. Upton stole on their own in the eighth inning. I don’t especially agree on Zobrist’s steal. He reached first on a walk, setting Evan Longoria up as the tying run. Longoria has the tendency to roll into double plays, but he’s still the Rays’ best hitter.
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In the ninth, Gabe Kapler and Jason Bartlett both batted against Kevin Gregg. Reid Brignac was on the bench. The only rationale I can think of is the odd bench situation tonight with Dioner Navarro getting ejected and Sean Rodriguez entering as a pinch runner for Willy Aybar made Maddon timid to place his last fielder in the game. But, he could’ve always moved Rodriguez to another position, it just would have cost the Rays usage of their DH.
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Speaking of Kapler. Nice night for him with a homer and walk. I tossed this off a few people during the game, but it seems to me that Kapler draws more three ball counts per plate appearance than anyone else in the lineup. I can’t leave well enough alone, so I actually looked it up. Here’s what I found entering tonight:
Player PA w/ 3B % w/3B Kapler 22 7 0.32 Pena 64 17 0.27 Zobr 68 18 0.26 Bartly 72 19 0.26 Longo 69 16 0.23 Crawf 70 15 0.21 Upton 66 13 0.20 Burrell 52 10 0.19 Navarro 47 8 0.17 Rodrigu 33 5 0.15 Brignac 28 2 0.07
Kapler also led the team in pitches per plate appearance seen entering tonight, with 4.64. For perspective, the league average is 3.89. What does this mean? He’s just the most patient – which is different from discipline – hitter on the team so far. I’ve made it no secret that I’m a Kapler fan and things like this reassure that fandom. Even if he doesn’t continue to lead the team in these categories, he’s still going to hit lefties and do so while being paid less than players like Mark Kotsay. Oh, and he’s pretty good at the defense and chemistry things.
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Right call by Joe Maddon to intentionally walk Aaron Hill to get to Adam Lind, and then to bring in Lance Cormier to face Vernon Wells. Dewayne Staats kept ignoring platoon splits in favor of Cormier versus Wells match-up numbers. Annoying. Cormier, of course, then recorded two outs on two pitches. See, Dewayne. See!
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Dioner Navarro got ejected and then chose to bump into the umpire. Good. This guarantees some more playing time for John Jaso.
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And no, I’m not going to blame Maddon for going to Choate against southpaws. I’d rather see Cormier or Andy Sonnanstine in high leverage spots, but Choate’s on the roster and he has to be used. Especially when history tells us he can get them out.
Ben Zobrist Signs an Extension
Ben Zobrist’s legacy is defined by patience.
I know I’ve written a bit about his transformation before. The Rays acquired him (alongside Mitch Talbot) for Aubrey Huff in summer 2006. The story on Zobrist at the time was that he relied on defense on on-base percentage. So good at operating a glove that uber prospect B.J. Upton shifted to third base to accommodate his arrival.
Zobrist and Upton were called up after the Rays traded Julio Lugo to the Dodgers and made their collective debut on July 31st – J.P. Howell actually started that game. Voila, the new left side of the infield was born – that Evan Longoria guy was just a fresh-faced draftee then. You have to know, Zobrist’s acquisition was timed right alongside my entry into real analysis. Around that time, I had finished Moneyball, and I was on the on-base percentage kick that most people get on after finishing Michael Lewis’ hagiography. Just like that, here’s this six-foot-three switch-hitting shortstop with two straight seasons of .400+ OBPs and, well, I got suckered in, thinking he’d become the Rays’ Kevin Youkilis.
At that point, and even now, Zobrist seemed to fit the profile of a leadoff hitter. He was patient and while his body size suggested he could hit the ball harder than the statistics showed, he just hadn’t done it, despite being old for the levels. Instead, he was cast as the Rays second slot hitter for a decent chunk of his early career. The main reasoning? He can bunt and move runners over. Now, that sounded wasteful at the time, but it sounds preposterous now. Heck, it was preposterous that the Rays would have a runner on for Zobrist to bunt over at that point.
The reoccurring problem is that Zobrist did not look comfortable at the plate or in the field, one could say he looked lost and even timid. Pitchers continued to take advantage of him as an easy out. Zobrist would have to prove he could make the mistakes turn into runs. He tried, I’m sure, he just couldn’t. He would make contact but generally weak contact. His .075 ISO through 2007 placed him amongst company like Willie Bloomquist and Nick Punto. Things weren’t looking good for Zobrist. Brendan Harris had quickly replaced him as the team’s starting shortstop in 2007. The Rays then spun him for Jason Bartlett, and Zobrist was left searching for at-bats.
The Rays stayed with him though. Spring training of 2008 was used to learn other positions – like second base and the outfield – while trying to earn a job as the super-utility player in the Chone Figgins mold. Unfortunately for Zobrist, an injury sidelined him for most of the early part of the season and left Nathan Haynes on the Major League roster in his wake. When Zobrist returned to the Majors, he suddenly had a power stroke. No, really. Zobrist’s career OPS through that point was .509, his slugging percentage for the 2008 season? .505. This was in fewer than 200 plate appearances though, so I remember warning – heavily – about expecting that production over a full season.
Zobrist had hit 12 homers during 2008 and forced himself into the right field platoon with Gabe Gross, replacing Eric Hinske. To date, he has 23 career minor league homers in more than 1,640 plate appearances. For this reason, as well as doubts about his playing time, I wrote that I didn’t see him ever hitting more than 20 home runs during one Major League season. Wrong. Incredibly wrong even.
That quotation makes me look like a fool – mostly because I am – but let’s be honest, the thought process wasn’t too flawed. Yeah, now there’s the Jaime Cevallos story. That was discovered by Tommy Rancel after the fact. (I still don’t buy into Cevallos 100%, but that’s irrelevant). At the time, Zobrist’s season just resembled countless other flukes, like Jason Bartlett’s 2009.
Zobrist posted the highest WAR amongst positional players last season and here I am, again, preaching conservative expectations. Eno Sarris did some research on banner years and the year after. He found that the pool like Adrian Beltre and Richard Hidalgo halved their WAR in the next season. For Zobrist, that would be like four wins. That’s fantastic.
I’ve been wrong about this guy too often to feel comfortable in that assertion. I thought he’d walk a lot in the majors based on his minors’ track record – as it turns out, minor league walk rates don’t correlate all that well with major league rates – then I’d thought he’d be an okay player, but not as good as he flashed. I was right. He was actually better than 2008 suggested. And now I’m saying don’t expect that and I don’t know how he’ll prove me wrong … I don’t know how he could prove me wrong, but I expect that. Whatever that is.
I don’t believe I was the only one wrong though, and I’m certainly not ashamed by it. The Rays did engage in trade talks with multiple teams throughout the winter and spring of 2008, and apparently were close on at least one deal that would’ve sent Zobrist elsewhere. They chose instead to keep him, and as such they’re being rewarded for their patience.
Is this a sweetheart deal? Yeah, it is. It’s not an Evan Longoria or James Shields type steal — at least not unless Zobrist continues his pace as the best player in baseball – it’s just a nice extension. One that should lead to surplus value. Patience extends beyond the player and team itself though, onto the objections and words thrown about surrounding an extension. The main three being:
1) The false dichotomy
The Rays did not give Carl Crawford’s (or B.J. Upton or ….) money to Ben Zobrist. None of those players sign this deal. Zobrist is older with less service time. There are a special set of circumstances in which a deal like this develops. Namely Zobrist being in pre-arbitration. It’s difficult for a team to sign a deal like this and ‘lose’. Yeah, injuries are possible, as is attrition, but the contract should still be below market value, just above minimum pay.
2) The good guy angle
I’m sure Zobrist is a good guy. Of course, if he’s not, it’s none of my business. But, come on. The Rays did not sign him with the idea that he was a Christian, a family guy, or anything like that. They signed him because he’s a good baseball player. All the other stuff is gravy. The mashed potatoes and steak is his glove and plate discipline. Besides, how do we know he’s a good guy? Because he’s a Christian, or because he’s a good ballplayer? At what point do we stop trying to judge character and instead accept that we don’t know a lot of things about these ballplayers’ personal lives. And frankly, we don’t need – nor should we want – to know.
3) 2009 was a fluke and the Rays are actually overpaying
This was covered already, but just to recap. No one should expect Zobrist to hit 27 home runs again. Nobody should expect him to be Chase Utley. What you should expect is a good on-base percentage and enough doubles to keep his ISO floating well above the Bloomquist-Punto line. Plus, while Zobrist is past his defensive prime, he’s still a former shortstop playing the corner outfield or second base. Former six-holers should play those positions well unless they were seriously overmatched at short. The Rays’ budget woes necessitates risks like these at times. Maybe he will bomb, and the arbitration years will be overpaid, but that’s unlikely based on what we know.
Nevertheless, congratulations to all the involved parties. It’s nice to see patience pays off sometimes.
Game Sixteen
The Rays went 9-1 on the road trip. 6-4 was the goal and 5-5 was the fallback. Needless to say, there’s a lot going right with this team when they can go on the road and win 90% of the games. 12-4 puts us at 93 wins for the season at a 90 win pace, and if you think the Rays are a true talent 94 win team, then we’re at 97 wins. Encouraging, considering we’re missing Matt Joyce, Kelly Shoppach, and J.P. Howell. Real encouraging.
Ben Zobrist returned tonight and hit three balls on a line. He looked more upright and closed in his stance. I don’t know whether that helped his vision or if it’s irrelevant – likely more of the latter – but nice to see him contribute.
James Shields had a rough first inning – throwing more than 30 pitches – but somehow lasted seven innings. Credit to him. Great recovery, albeit against a weaker lineup.
There’s just not much to say about anything else. We’re playing well, and hopefully it doesn’t stop anytime soon.
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