A Players-Only Meeting is a Good Thing (not for any results that will stem from it, but for the reality it reflects)

In my other blogging life, I write about hockey.  As a fan of the Pittsburgh Penguins, I am accustomed to professional sports franchises calling players-only meetings.   Over the past few seasons, in fact, I think I can state, factually, that I can’t even count the number of times Pittsburgh’s NHL franchise has held “players-only” meetings.

For the Pittsburgh Penguins, “players-only” meetings come with the territory of being a team that’s expected to win the Stanley Cup every season.  (For a team with generational talents Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin, simply contending for the Cup is not sufficient.   Pittsburgh’s hockey team is expected to end each season as the best in the NHL.)   And, so, over the past few seasons, this hockey fan has become relatively numb to the Penguins and their penchant for holding players-only meetings.

Oh, the Penguins are in a bit of a slump in midseason?  Time for a players-only meeting.

Oh, the Penguins aren’t performing to expectations at the start of the season?  Time for a few players-only meetings.

Oh, something’s gone wrong with the power play, the penalty kill, or the team’s lost a few consecutive games?   

Someone on the Penguins—whether it’s captain Sidney Crosby or alternate captain Brooks Orpik or veteran Craig Adams or reformed pest Matt Cooke—typically calls for a players-only meeting when the Penguins fail to perform to expectations.

As a fan of hockey and baseball, I know the sports are different.  I also know “meetings” aren’t a cure-all.  When Kris Letang and Sidney Crosby were both out of the line-up this winter, the Penguins weren’t the same team they were with those two players in the line-up (this is a simple statement of fact).   “Players-only” meetings are not a cure for a lack of talent, the right players in the wrong roles, or the wrong players in the wrong roles.   “Players-only” meetings might help to clear emotional air, but if emotions aren’t the problem—and plain old talent and ability-to-execute is—there’s a limit to what players-only meetings can achieve for a professional sports franchise.

And yet I read on Twitter this afternoon that the Pirates were having a players-only meeting while in their worst stretch of the season.   And I was thrilled.

Not because I magically expect the meeting to be a cure for the Pirates to go out and beat the Dodgers’ ace pitcher tonight.

Not because I believe the only problem with the Pirates is mental/emotional.  (Seriously, look at the 7-8-9 hitters in the lineup, and tell me how that lineup scored the most runs in MLB in one summer month.  You’ll be baffled/boggled if you look at individual stat lines in isolation.)

But, because, in calling for a players-only meeting, something had changed.    Pittsburgh fans who now boo when the Pirates lose (yes, spoiled brat fans of the Pittsburgh Penguins boo a power play of All-Stars Crosby, Malkin, Neal, and Letang when it fails to score) have had their expectations altered.   But, more importantly, the Pirates—in calling a meeting that says what is happening right now isn’t acceptable—show something else.

They show their own expectations have changed.

The team that everyone expected to lose now expects to win.

You can wince because the Pirates have to call a players-only meeting.  You can wince because the players-only meeting isn’t likely to solve problems that are primarily about talent and tactics (bullpen management/performance, a few hitters in the batting order simply not necessarily being the kind of hitters typically in those roles on teams ordinarily classified as “contenders”).   You can roll your eyes and point out—absolutely, completely correctly—that the Pirates simply need their best players to be their best players and every player to perform at his peak and a meeting isn’t likely to be the cure-all for tired arms or nagging injuries or overall fatigue and whatever else might be causing problems in the dog days of August. 

Or you can smile about the Pirates calling a players-only meeting.  Not because you’re delusional enough to believe that an “emotional lift” is all that a team that’s consistently overachieved to this point needs to return to their overachieving ways.    Not because you’re convinced it’s just the players’ minds and hearts that are a little on-edge and a meeting will be enough to calm them down and get them back on track.

But because, in having a player who called a meeting, and in having players who actually show up at the ballpark expecting to win every game, the Pirates show that expectations have changed.

So—let’s smile.   (And, yes, please, let’s just not have another players-only meeting after another awful loss (as the Penguins, in one recent season, seemed to have made a habit of at least once a week).   Let’s just get back to playing winning baseball.   Let’s get back on track.   Let’s have talent get out of slumps.   Let’s have tactics that make sense to put talent in the best position to win games.)

But, really, the Pittsburgh Pirates called a players-only meeting because they expect to win games and are disappointed they’re not winning games and because they know something is wrong that they need to address. 

As silly as that sounds and seems, it is progress that is worth celebrating—no matter what results come or don’t come from this players-only meeting.

Think of the difference of snickering that comes because “Really, a players-only meeting again?” due to expectations not being met, and snickering that comes when it’s “Um, you expected a different result?”  Think of a team that would never call a players-only meeting when trouble happens, and think of a team that acknowledges losing isn’t a pattern they want to continue.

While the Pirates remain a long way from the perennial contender status their local professional hockey counterpart maintains, I had to smile when I read about my baseball team having a players-only meeting.   And, knowing what I know of how the Penguins’ kids eventually became experienced All-Stars, there was a first step to that process.

It’s called expecting to win.   It’s called acknowledging less-than-expected performance.   It’s called learning how to fix poor performance.

Those last two sentences are where the Pirates find themselves now—and it’s a continuous process that all players and franchises (to one degree or another) engage in (and the ones that do it best are crowned champions at a season’s end).

But the expectations have changed.   So, don’t wince at the players-only meeting.   Choose, instead, to celebrate what a players-only meeting reflects:   A franchise that has been the laughingstock of baseball (through no fault, it should be noted, of the players on the current team) for the past nineteen years has taken the first step to saying, “Enough is enough.  We expect to win.”

The meeting may have a terrible effect, no effect, little effect, some effect, delayed effect, or immediate impact.  But the meeting isn’t the point.   It’s what the meeting reflects that matters.

The Pittsburgh Pirates think something is wrong when they’re not winning.    The expectations have changed.

When expectations change—culture changes.   When culture changes, streaks, even horrible, historical, ignominious ones, will eventually be broken.

Whatever the result tonight, or over the next few weeks, or next month, celebrate this moment, when a players-only meeting called in mid-August reveals that Pittsburgh’s baseball team is simply stating:  We’re the Pittsburgh Pirates, and we expect to win baseball games.

The Weight of Nineteen Years

Easy as it is to say “it’s not about the past nineteen years” when it comes to the 2012 Pirates, there’s another uncomfortable truth. 

Factually, none of the players on the 2012 Pirates are responsible for the past nineteen years of losing baseball.  

But for a city that hasn’t seen winning baseball but hasn’t forgotten what it looks like:   Um, well.

Of course it’s about the losing streak.   As one local sportswriter has written, it’s about the losing streak until it’s not about the losing streak.

But fact remains.   These guys on the 2012 Pirates, most of them, had nothing to do with it.

The losing is an “organizational” issue.   The trading.  The horrible signings.   The horrible development.   

Everything.   That’s organizational, until it’s no longer organizational.

But the players are just players (sorry, but it’s true).   Let them play.   Let them change the perception of the organization.

Because, to be blunt, that’s what Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin and Marc-Andre Fleury and Kris Letang did for the Penguins.   The Penguins sucked (for a short amount of time, at least in comparison to the Pirates).    The players performed.   As one Pirates blogger has noted, the local hockey team became a perennial contender that goes home disappointed when it loses in the playoffs (making the playoffs is now an expectation).

Until the players win on the field, the Pittsburgh baseball organization will always be perceived as a loser, not as a destination.  The players have to change that.   The players—bluntly—are the only ones who can.  (Yes, management has to draft, develop, and trade for the right players, and managers and coaches have to assemble the players and put them in the best position to win the most number of games.) 

But the players aren’t the ones responsible for the past nineteen years of losing.  Many were elementary school kids when previous management was telling fans like me that Kevin Young/Al Martin/Carlos Garcia were the wave of the future.   Lots of the current players were barely in high school when the Pirates drafted a bunch of first-rounders who were supposed to return the franchise to glory.    Even the veterans who have been around awhile, they were busy helping their teams to the playoffs and carving out major-league careers while the Pirates were busy gifting Aramis Ramirez to their divisional rival Chicago Cubs and making similarly ill-advised (AKA stupid) trades.

So, seriously.

Nineteen years of losing is managerial and organizational.   But these players?

The center-fielder who’s in a “slump” because he’s only hitting a shade above .300 in August.

The veteran pitcher who had one of his “worst” outings of the year while still managing to strike out 10 batters and go almost six innings.

Seriously.

These players are not every organizational  false hope since 1993.   They are not every terrible trade in those nineteen years.  They are not every failed prospect in the past two decades. 

They deserve to be judged and to stand or fall on their own merits.

Maybe they’re not a playoff team (did we ever rationally expect them to be?). Maybe they’re not a pennant-winner.  I highly doubt they’re eventually a World Series champion.

But they’re fourteen games over .500 in mid-August and in the thick of a competitive division and Wild Card race.    They have a legitimate MVP candidate for the first time in two decades.  They have legitimate major league pitchers, including a starter who has won big games in October (when’s the last time you can say they’ve had even one of those guys on the pitching staff)?      

I understand the panic.    I’ve been a fan since I was five years old in 1987.   I fell in love with the game when my favorite pitcher was a Cy Young award winner (Doug Drabek) and I assumed a major-league team simply had an outfield comprised of players like Bonilla/Bonds/Van Slyke.    And then came 1993, and Carlos Garcia/Al Martin/Kevin Young and then Denny Neagle/Denny Neagle traded and then Jason Kendall/Brian Giles and failed prospects and oh-so-many pitching prospect arm surgeries all in the midst of this ridiculous losing mounting and then even good players like Jason Bay/Freddy Sanchez weren’t good enough to make a difference in the losing ways and the pitchers who were supposed to turn the franchise around (Duke and Maholm and three in the loss column; Gorzelanny and  Snell and three days of hell and then none of these pitchers ever doing what we once though they could for the Pirates)….and the collapse in 2011.   I lived it all as a fan. 

I get it.   I understand.     Because every time the team looks like it’s going to lose a game, the chorus comes, in my own head, and in the head and heart of every fan who has lived through the past two decades:  “It’s the Pirates.  Here we go again.”

But until proven otherwise—and we don’t know that until season’s end—these Pirates are not those Pirates.    A simple look at the statistics says these Pirates are not those Pirates.   A simple look says that Andrew McCutchen is not Jason Bay, Brian Giles, Jeff King, or whoever else failed to return the Pirates to glory.   That AJ Burnett is not Ian Snell, Zach Duke, Matt Morris, or a bunch of other pitchers that haven’t managed to return the Pirates to winning ways.   That the manager is not every terrible manager the Pirates have had, that the players who have scored more runs than any other teams in the majors in a month of the season aren’t the same as the players who comprised teams that never managed to outscore their opponents in even one month of a season.  That a team with a positive run differential is a team with a positive run differential, not all smoke-and-mirrors and plain old good luck. 

Rather than sigh “It’s the Pirates”—how about just doing what’s counter-intuitive for fans that have been burned too many times, and just let these guys stand or fall on their own merits?

The weight of nineteen years hangs.    It presses.

But, it has nothing to do with Andrew McCutchen, who was six the last time the Pirates had a winning season.  It has nothing to do with AJ Burnett—the Pirates haven’t had a winning season for the length of Burnett’s major-league career.   Nineteen years has nothing to do with Joel Hanrahan, Michael McKenry, Neil Walker, or, to be blunt, any of the current players who are going to determine the final win-loss record of the 2012 Pittsburgh Pirates.   

They’re a baseball team in 2012 that’s in the midst of real race for a playoff spot in a town that knows what good baseball is but has not seen meaningful, good baseball in two decades.

Give this team—not the Pirates, but your Pirates—the benefit of the doubt.   In this same town, Sidney Crosby made you forget Rico Fata pretty fast.   I’m pretty sure Andrew McCutchen has the same ability to make you forget…oh, I won’t even go there when it comes to Chad Hermansen. 

You’re moaning and very worried in August because McCutchen’s not hitting .400 anymore.  

Perspective.

Your team’s 14 games over .500.

What happens to their season will have nothing to do with the past nineteen years.  And everything to do with what they do on the field, this season.

Let them play the games on the field this season.    And appreciate—and marvel—at your complaints in August. 

It’s the first time in a generation you’ve even had the chance to make such complaints.   And every complaint about an All-Star not being perfect shouldn’t prompt cries of “The sky is falling!” but rather, a different thought:  “How’s this going to play out?”

Let it play out.

Watch the games.   Complain (as spoiled Pittsburgh hockey and football fans do when All-Star talent proves itself imperfect with less-than-stellar moments).   But don’t forget—and don’t stop—cheering (because usually All-Star talent proves itself as All-Star talent, even when All-Stars occasionally have human moments). 

Enjoy the race for the playoffs.  Enjoy what these players—who have nothing to do with what you haven’t seen in 19 summers—are letting you see this summer.

Baseball games that matter for something more than next year’s draft position. 

It’s what we’ve wanted all along, right?

Let’s, at least, go along for the ride until it ends.

Two Quick Thoughts on the ALCS

So these two quick thoughts have everything to do with what it's been like to be a Pirates fan since 1992 (by the way, TBS, thank you oh so very much for the reminder of that '92 NLCS series).

I was rooting for the Red Sox. Not because I like them, mind you, but just because I wanted to see Jason Bay win something. I mean, after spending the formative years of one's career mired in Pittsburgh, well...I was just hoping to see Bay win something. And here's what I got from watching Bay: he didn't look out of place. He was help, not a hindrance, to the Boston Red Sox. Was he an MVP? No how, no way. But was he a legitimate piece of a team that came within 1 game of going to the Series? Absolutely. And so, for this Bucco fan, knowing that an ex-Pirate can produce in the playoffs, well, let's be honest: it's somewhat reassuring, on some level, to know that there actually have been really good major league players on my team over these long, endless summers of losing baseball. And as for Jason Bay--better luck next season.

Speaking of really good major league baseball players, watching the Tampa Bay Rays--and their incredibly young team--celebrate made me envious. As a hockey fan, I got to watch a young Penguins team celebrate earning the chance to play for the Stanley Cup (it was a muted celebration, and Sidney Crosby refused even to touch the conference championship trophy), but watching the Rays, I just found myself wondering if and when the Piratse would ever again be able to celebrate winning an NLCS. Seriously--when could I potentially see the Pirates winning an NLCS? I allowed myself to daydream for a moment...perhaps in 5 or 7 years' time, after great draft after great draft followed by yet another great draft, the Pirates will be as deep as the Rays currently are. Perhaps the Pirates will someday have pitchers who do what David Price and Matt Garza did in this series. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps....oh, forget it, I know I'm dreaming. But something about watching the real, live, actual talent on the Rays just made me remember that the Pittsburgh Pirates have a l-o-n-g way to go before one can even dare to dream of Wild Cards...and .500 play....and there's probably a different word than "dreaming" that should be used for things like going to the World Series. Hallucination, perhaps? Insanity?

But back to having those great drafts....hmm...hmm...maybe someday. And, you know, too, maybe someday Jason Bay gets to win the World Series, too. That'd be nice.

It's a Long Way From Minor League Domination to Success in the Show

For as fun and exciting as it is to scan many minor league box scores on a nightly basis. For as thrilling as it is to have multiple prospects (rather than just one) at multiple levels to follow. As exciting as it is to ponder the possibility that my porous, pathetic Pirates might actually have pitching options next season due to this sudden influx of a few prospects in the higher levels of the minor leagues. And even as enticing as the flashier prospects--Jose Tabata, the recently signed Pedro Alvarez--are, well, I'd like to offer numbers. (Caveat: Just numbers for the moment. I'll add the adjectives to describe "numbers" soon enough, don't fret.)


Player 1
AAA Numbers: 112 IP, 104 K, 23 BB, 1.01 WHIP, 3.70 ERA
AA Numbers: 151 IP, 142 K, 40 BB, 1.24 WHIP, 3.16 ERA
Career Minor League Numbers: 648 IP, 617 K, 167 BB, 1.15 WHIP, 2.85 ERA
MLB Career Numbers: 581 IP, 497 K, 249 BB, 1.52 WHIP, 4.68 ERA

Player 2
AAA Numbers: 100 IP, 94 K, 27 BB ,0.94 WHIP , 2.34 ERA
AA Numbers: 129 IP, 124 K, 46 BB, 1.23 WHIP, 3.26 ERA
Career Minor League Numbers: 443.2 IP, 440 K, 140 BB, 1.10 WHIP 2.84 ERA
MLB Career Numbers: 361 IP ,234 K, 166 BB, 1.51 WHIP, 4.75 ERA

Player 3
AA Numbers: 81 IP, 75 K, 26 BB, 1.21 WHIP, 3.20 ERA
Career Minor League Numbers: 211 IP ,170 K, 74 BB, 1.29 WHIP, 3.11 ERA
MLB Career Numbers: 569 IP, 370 K, 193 BB, 1.41 WHIP, 4.30 ERA


Now let's take a gander at some current prospects in AAA (and even "cherry-pick" one line of AAA for the "best" of AAA while noting the prospects
came from the NYY organization.)

Prospect
AA: 53 IP, 52 K, 18 BB, 1.15 WHIP, 2.55 ERA.
AAA: 70 IP, 58 K, 11 BB, 1.19 WHIP, 3.58 ERA
Career Minor League Numbers: 331 IP, 269 K, 75 BB, 1.08 WHIP, 2.91 ERA
MLB Career Numbers: TBD

Another Prospect
AA: 178 IP, 125 K, 29 BB, 1.17 WHIP, 3.29 ERA
AAA: 41 IP, 35 K, 8 BB, 1.13 WHIP, 3.24 ERA
Career Minor League Numbers: 515 IP, 426 K, 134 BB, 1.34 WHIP, 3.89 ERA
MLB Career Numbers: TBD


So what's the point of "cherry-picking" the first set of statistics? Player 1 has an ERA close to six this year; he had a top 10 strikeout and innings pitched rate in the NL last year. Player 2 has an ERA above six this season; like player 1, he had a top 10 innings pitched rate in the NL last year. Player 3 has an ERA in the mid-three's this year; he's pitched well enough to earn the "accolade" of "ace" of the Pittsburgh Pirates' pitching staff...but he has pitched very, very well.

So, about those adjectives for the above numbers? Look at those minor league numbers for 3 pitchers currently in the big-league Bucco rotation. Take a serious gander at those so sweet, singing minor league statistics of 3 pitchers who began 2008 in the rotation of the Pittsburgh Pirates. Those minor league numbers are pristine, and the WHIP, K:BB ratio, etc., portend well for success in the Show.

And, well, fortunately enough, none of these players has had to have arm surgery. None has had his arm fall off, figuratively or literally. And all have, at some point, experienced success in the Show.

Except you know what's happened this year. Except you can look at their career statistics. But don't look at the sweet, singing minor league statistics and tell me minor league statistical success automatically, instantaneously translates to success in the Show.

In fact, take a gander at those minor league numbers. Take a gander at Gorzelanny's recent line at AAA, and you'll note: He's by no means a AAA pitcher.

Ah, but there's a long way from dominating AAA to consistently succeeding in the Show.

And for those who say I'm a bitter, jaded, cynical Bucco fan, I say: Guilty as charged, but at this particular juncture, that truth about myself is impertinent and irrelevant.

Because take a gander at the Buchholz kid in the winning, playoff-bound organization, the one the dearly departed Jason Bay now represents, and note that perhaps my porous, pathetic Pirates encounter this issue far more frequently than do more successful organizations, but, please, people, look at the numbers and realize that many successful minor league players, even ones with statistics that sing and stuff that's sweet, will not manage to replicate that level of success, at least not consistently, at least not right away--at the major league level...and some will never reach the level of "consistent success" at the MLB level.

And have fun, as I do, scanning the minor league box scores--hope is fun, and when you have high-upside prospects, there's a chance for greatness, and that chance is real.

But from those box scores, please refrain from extrapolating what isn't there, never has been there, and will never actually exist there. Examine those 3 minor league lines of current Pittsburgh pitchers even as you scrutinize the minor league box scores. And cease from extrapolating what won't be there until you see it in black-and-white under "MLB Career Statistics," the way you see it under "Minor League Career Statistics." And keep it in mind even as you, like me, eagerly check the minor league box scores, hoping to see something--something that even pristine minor league statistics, as we've seen in our current rotation--that just isn't quite, at least not yet, and perhaps not ever, actually present.


(Caveat Note on this post: Does being a fan of the Pirates since 1987 mean that I am just a bitter, jaded cynic? Is it the years of bad drafting and improper development that have made me this way? Or is just the harsh reality of what is reflected in the plain old black-and-white statistics I scan?)

I have a playoff team to root for, Jason Bay is an Outfielder for the Boston Red Sox, MLB Blackberry Ads, and Other Thoughts

My Buccos were busy prior to the trading deadline this year. First they shipped Damaso Marte and Xavier Navy off to the Yankees for prospects. Much as I was disappointed by the break-up of what had been the most productive (if we're talking sheer offensive productivity, anyway) outfield in baseball, it made sense to get prospects from the Yankees. And at least one of the prospects came with a tinge of glimmer and shine that makes you hopeful: He was only nineteen. He had at one point been the best hitter for average in the Yankees system. Oh, and best of all, he was just nineteen and already in AA.

And really, wasn't trading away players the Pirates were going to lose anyway better than trading for a pitcher, past his prime, making 10 million dollars a year (lest Bucco fans forget the disaster that was the 2007 trading deadline)? Though, of course such a thought only cemented the fact that, as a fan of the Pirates, I'd grown far too accustomed to trade deadline incompetence to evaluate a deal that actually appeared to be made with the right end goal in mind.

But then came the news that Jason Bay was now a member of the Boston Red Sox. After I initially cringed at the thought of rooting for the Red Sox, I found myself on the Red Sox website, watching Jason Bay's debut in Boston. Being relieved the fans cheered for him. Celebrating his successes. And being glad--really glad--that a player of his caliber was finally going to have a shot to win on a team built to win today.

Yet, in the corner of the Red Sox site, for the first time I noticed the MLB Gameday Blackberry ad. I've since seen this ad on the website of my very own Pirates, but there was something about being on the site of the pennant-contending Red Sox, pondering the $3.99 per month cost and contemplating that it would be well worth the price if I ever, you know, actually got the chance to follow a team that's in a real, live pennant race that just made me....well, to be honest, want to see Jason Bay back in a Pirates uniform.

Players like Jason Bay are necessary to win championships. For all the talk of a "championship-caliber" organization in Pittsburgh, Jason Bay was as close as the Pirates came, at least now, to having a player, in his prime, actually be a legitimate piece of a "championship-caliber" team. Sure, Jason Bay needs to be surrounded by other championship-caliber players, as he is in Boston and was not and would not have been in Pittsburgh, at least for the foreseeable future, but the major thought swirling through my mind was: Why do the Pirates always have to trade away the championship-caliber guys?

So who knows. I get the rationale for why the management team did what they did. Maybe ownership wants to save money (it's always a suspicion of mine). But, really, it's not like the Pirates were within a game, two, or even five of a wild card. And who knows. Though I've grown leery and wary of prospect lists over the years (I remember when Zach Duke used to headline those lists, along with other former first round picks who have never established themselves as big league pitchers), there's a chance Andy Laroche turns out to be good. Maybe Brandon Moss becomes like Nate McClouth. Maybe one of these guys did what Bay ultimately did for the Brian Giles trade: made it a wash. All-Star gone, All-Star in his place. Sure, knowing the Bucco's recent history and the nature of prospect lists, that All-Star for All-Star hope is probably just a dream.

But, really, dreams are all I have for the moment. And because I have dreams, I'll be pulling for the Boston Red Sox to win it all. So Jason Bay can learn how to win it all on a winning team. So he can learn what it takes. And so....

Warning. Serious warning. I'm really dreaming. You've entered the peak of fantasy land.

So that, in a few years, perhaps, when the Pirates have somehow assembled an incredibly deep minor league system (the equivalent to what the Rays now possess), and when the team is on the verge of their first pennant in eons, my team, my no longer pathetic, porous, Pirates are the team that actually makes the trade for a still-performing, still not washed-up, Jason Bay, for the player who's won a Series, who will be the final piece to the puzzle, who will be surrounded by other championship-caliber players on the team, and who will finally get to experience winning as a Pittsburgh Pirate.

Before you whine about the outlandish, fairy-tale fantasy land of the preceding paragraph, I warned you, though perhaps not starkly enough, that I have a vivid, wild, and yes, as evidenced above, at times absolutely absurd and ludicrous imagination and ability to fantasize, and in that world, the Pirates will actually develop the new Jason Bays and keep them around, and when they need a Jason Bay, they pull the trigger and get him because it's time to win now...not in a few seasons.

Alas, I don't live in fantasy land. And when my Blackberry lights up this fall, it will be with emails, not Gameday telling me Jason Bay just hit a three run homer. Bittersweet as it would be to watch Jason Bay pursue a title with the Red Sox, I'll save myself the $3.99 fee per month and dream of the day when I can justify what will surely by then be a more expensive fee. To follow a real pennant race. A pennant race in which my Pirates are actually entrenched. And perhaps, even, to follow playoff games my Pirates are playing.

In the meantime, though, I'll occasionally find myself on the Red Sox website, stare at the Blackberry ad for the Gameday package it's useless to purchase now, and ponder when and if the Pirates will ever be able to once again have the most productive outfield in baseball, but this time, have that outfield and every other component required for a "championship-caliber" organization.

And I'll miss watching Jason Bay play for the Pirates.

Ian Snell is a Headcase (but not how you think)

All year long, Bucco fans everywhere have wondered: What went wrong with Gorzelanny and Snell? Sure, on some level it's stark silly stupidity to expect one above-average season in the big leagues to translate to an automatic above-average season the following year, especially at a position such as pitching and especially knowing that all but the very best pitchers are prone to ups and downs. But on another level, at least when it comes to Ian Snell, how do you go from top ten in the NL in strikeouts and innings pitched to this year's (at present) 1.83 WHIP fiasco?

Because there's no easy explanation for Snell's downfall (whereas Gorzelanny was absurdly overused last season, which seemed, for much of the season, to be a more than plausible explanation for his drastic downturn this season), media and fans have come to one conclusion: Ian Snell is a major headcase. And on some level, we've already, always, sort of, kind of, or totally known this about Ian Snell. I mean, he's always been prone to various sorts of emotional outbursts (search the posts tagged at Ian Snell at MLB Fanhouse to take a gander of sorts). And as such, well, he's just a headcase who won't, can't, or refuses to get his great stuff together and pitch like a pitcher with his stuff should.

Except. Except. Except. Did anybody read this Snell quote, found in the PG Pirates Notebook? "It was just the expectations that were thrown on me, being the ace, being the one who faces the other team's ace. People expected a lot of me, and I don't think that's easy on a young pitcher." Such a quote, on the surface, should lead one to the conclusion that everyone labeling Snell a headcase was one hundred percent correct. And I'd agree. Except I disagree that the sole reason he is a headcase is that's just because it is who he is (don't get me wrong, natural temperament and demeanor play a part, too--but only a part).

I posit that Snell's "mental issues" this season stemmed from high expectations. Frankly speaking, I don't think Snell knew how to handle high expectations. I don't think he was prepared for high expectations. I don't think he'd ever been taught how to wrap his mind around high expectations, coming both from himself, but more importantly, from teammates, the fans, and oh yeah, the organization that signed him to a multi-year contract.

Because here's the thing about Snell that's always made him one of my favorites (and I'm admittedly a fan who's got a thing for the headcases who show flashes of potential). No one really ever expected him to do what he's doing at the big league level. At the start of each one of his minor league seasons, there were always pitchers who had been drafted higher and of whom more was expected. If Snell was going to make it, it was going to be through sheer will and productive performance. And, so, every year, he won games, he struck out batters, and generally, he excelled where he was. Because he had to achieve excellence just to get his shot.

And let's be honest. After Zach Duke's phenomenal rookie season, Snell was an afterthought. Maybe Snell would make a decent reliever. And as he struggled early in his first full season in the big leagues, everyone wondered: Really--this kid's supposed to start in the big leagues? And then, the second half of 2006, Snell started to pitch. He won 14 games that year, and comments began to come. Scouts began to take notice of this kid whose stuff they loved. And then came 2007--a good season to all accounts, and utterly excellent for four months (including September 2007) of that six-month season.

So you've got a 26-year-old pitcher, with stuff that makes scouts drool, who pitched over two hundred innings at age 25, who pitched quality start after quality start last season, who's never really had any serious health issues, and you've got people saying: This is the year this kid really cements himself. This year will be his true "breakout." This is the year he strikes out 200 batters. This is the year you want him on your fantasy team. And, beyond the fantasy 2008 preseason projections, you have a new organization that saw what the scouts saw and looked at the minor league and major league statistics and said: Better to risk locking the kid up now than risk what he could get in arbitration or later with a couple more seasons like 2007. Meanwhile, you've got teammates who believe they can know what to expect when this pitcher starts a game for them this season: a legitimate chance to win, every time. Because that's how good he's shown himself to be in the past.

And, now, put yourself in the place of that 26-year-old pitcher. But don't just put yourself in the place of the 26-year-old who's just set himself up for life (provided he manages the money well) with the new multi-million dollar contract. Put yourself in the place of the 18-year-old who was drafted later than kids who never made it out of A-ball. Put yourself in the place of the kid pitching in the same rotation as first-round draft picks throughout his minor league career. Put yourself in place of the kid who, at every level, has to be better, has to strike out more batters, has to win more games, in order to arrive at getting a mere shot--just a chance--to prove that high expectations should be set for him, too. Really, put yourself in the shoes of an athlete whose whole professional career was really mired in low expectations, and then juxtapose that career norm of always exceeding low expectations with the pressure to consistently meet high expectations coming into the 2008 season.

Of course, naysayers would beg to differ, saying that as Snell proved himself, high expectations became more normal. To which I'd say, well, of course, that happened. You don't lose a game in your first two professional seasons; the organization notices a little bit. You pitch well enough to be the organization's minor league pitcher of the year; someone important sure as heck noticed what you did. You pitch well in AA; you get a call-up to the Show. You dominate AAA to the tune of a 1.01 WHIP and lead the league in strikeouts; it's time to find out what you can do in the Show.

Yet, for Snell, that's where I'd insist he never had to cope with the highest of expectations, or with the best of expectations. No one expected him to dominate the National League upon his arrival. No one was sure where he should be--rotation, reliever, closer, etc. He came with the statistics that appeared to indicate that perhaps he could be a top-of-the-rotation starter, but none of the pedigree. And as such, I will posit that until preseason 2008, Ian Snell never really had to cope with high expectations.

And while I think there are a myriad of reasons Snell's 2008 has been mostly lost (save for that recent, oh-so-tantalizing performance against the Cardinals), I will insist that Snell's major issue in 2008 is that he couldn't cope with the high preseason expectations set for him by the organization, by his teammates, by outside parties, and yes, internally, too. So, indeed, Ian Snell is a head case. He's a head case who never had to learn--and thus was never taught--how to react and how to meet high expectations.

As such, at various times this season we've gotten all sorts of things that drive anyone watching--anyone who's seen this pitcher be good before--berserk. We've got a pitcher who won't use his fastball. We've got a pitcher too terrified of being hit hard to throw strikes. We've got a pitcher who won't come near the inside part of the plate. We've got a pitcher making all kinds of mechanical adjustments when the real problem is, in all actuality, probably subconscious. Because I really doubt Snell's thinking much of anything when he's not throwing strikes. But I don't doubt, not for a moment, that Snell's terrified and petrified by the high expectations, and that the terror and horror and all else that comes from the fear of not coming anywhere near the vicinity of meeting such expectations, results in performances like these: Oh, I have to make the perfect pitch. Oh, since I can't make the perfect pitch, better not throw that one. Oh, I'm not good enough, not with the way I am throwing or feeling right now, to pitch to this guy, so I better just throw the ball nowhere near the plate. And I better do this not just for like, the best hitter on the team who legitimately can hurt me in this particular situation, but I have to do it all the time. Because, really, with these high expectations, I have to be perfect.

As September nears, we're so far from high expectations for Snell that we wonder if he should have been demoted to AAA, sent to the bullpen, and we wonder if he even will have a place in the rotation next season, if he's not traded this offseason. To put it mildly, the high expectations I once had for a Snell game are now replaced by dread: Please, tell me he didn't implode. Tell me he didn't have a WHIP of two this game. Please, give me something, a little glimpse, that he really was good in 2007 and that he's still got whatever made him good and thus he can be that good again, at some point, this season, next season...please. Just give me a glimpse. May I once again be tantalized with hope..really, pretty, pretty, please.

And then I get a game, granted, a mere one game contest, like the last game Snell pitched against the legitimate major-league line-up of St. Louis. I watch Ian Snell, "circa 2007," as one comment on a blog noted. And sure, I think there are lots of reasons for Snell's troubles this season. I think he probably was used too much last year, though no one really complained about it at the time. I think he could have been hurt by the loss of a pitching coach who, for whatever harm he may have done to others and who was clearly not always a diplomatic communicator, sure as heck didn't appear to hurt Snell when he had a 2.93 ERA prior to last season's All-Star break. I do think Snell was physically hurt, even if in a minor way, for a period of time this season, which lowered his velocity, and that when he took the mound without his best stuff, he tinkered and tinkered and tried to compensate for not having the stuff he was used to having, he got beat, and badly beat. But mainly, watching Snell on the mound, and knowing that everyone who still bothered to watch no longer really held those sky-high expectations, I wondered if Snell's underlying issue, all season, could merely have been that he just wasn't ready to deal with high expectations, or, in a nutshell, that Snell just couldn't handle high expectations.

Lest anyone think this post is one long apology for Ian Snell, far be it from that. Because, honestly, who cares if no one ever thought you were good or expected you to be good? Now we know you're good; we've seen it. Others know you're good; they have video and study how you pitch, and they'll adjust. You know what? I really don't care about your mental issues or what you're thinking or about the fact that you can't cope with high expectations. You just need to pitch. Because that's your job. And oh yeah, because we've seen you do it, before..really, for almost a year, we've seen you do this. So, get over yourself, your head, and just deal with it. Or, if you can't stop being a headcase, can we deal you for someone a little younger, with stuff close to yours, who may not ever have stuff that's equal to yours, but who at least will not drive us crazy by being as much of a headcase as you are?

Snell can't be excused for his pitiful pitching performances this season, nor should he be. But I'd like to posit that the "headcase" issue is one that's not necessarily solved by appointments with a sports shrink (much as I've suggested, half-serious, half in jest, that the Pirates ought to invest in one for Snell's Jekyll and Hyde act) or by trading away an emotional player who's way too much of a headcase.

Rather, I'd like to suggest the solution to Snell's issue is really a solution that the whole PBC still sorely needs. The organization desperately needs an across-the-board restoration of high expectations. And with that restoration of high expectations for every member of the organization, so, too, should come the experience of learning not merely how to cope with, but how to meet, expectations that, on any level of "gut check" reality, are absurdly high (200 Ks? Really? (and yet who would think 200 K's patent absurdity for a top-of-the-rotation starter in a different organization?).

It's easy, and it's nice to say that Snell should have figured out how to meet the expectations, his lack of experience with such expectations be darned. It's nice and easy to say that all players who possess the innate talent that makes scouts drool should just automatically, instantaneously, be able to meet those high expectations. And it's nice and easy to say that any player who can't handle those expectations, the first or second time around, is just a head case who will never be all he truly could be due to his mental issues.

And believe me, there have been multiple occasions this season where I want to take the "nice and easy" route with Snell, and where, honestly, I think it's nice and easy because it's the nicest and easiest course of action available. But not just in the case of Snell, but in the case of Ryan Doumit and Nate McClouth next year, and for outfield prospects Tabata at AA and McCutchen at AAA, and all the way down to a winning GCL team, something else has to happen.

High expectations are high expectations. Such expectations should be met. But if you don't meet them for a game, or a a start, or even three, or even a slump: you can't get away from your identity. You can't start chasing balls off the plate just to prove you still have power to hit home runs. And, as in the case of Snell this year, you can't start nibbling just because you're afraid of what will happen if you throw strikes and your strikes get hit. You can't back away from who you are, whether that be a strike-throwing flamethrower or a hitter who consistently maintains an OPS in the high 800s.

In winning organizations, high expectations are the norm. Everyone expects to win. And players are expected to perform, because they are performers. Organizations and teams live out their identity, and players do the same.

And yes, trades may have to be made to make the team a winner. And yes, a hitter has to adjust when pitchers refuse to throw him the pitch in the sweet spot he loves. And yes, a pitcher has to adjust when hitters can predict what's coming.
But all from the security of knowing: this is who I am. As basic as it gets. I get on base four point five out of ten times. I throw strikes. This organization wins.

So, yeah, in conclusion, Ian Snell is, always, definitely, a head case. I hope he may someday not wear that label, but I believe Snell's always going to be emotional, and frankly, I don't really care that he's emotional or that he's a head case. Because, in the case of this emotional pitcher and particular head case, it seems to me that the real recourse is ensuring that every member of the organization understands and experiences the highest of expectations...and understands that those high expectations originate with the fact that high expectations are the only acceptable expectations to be set for successful players who comprise successful teams who comprise successful, and oh yes--winning--organizations.

Ignorant Conversation of the Day (Mea Culpa)

Conversation:

Me: The Boston Red Sox's number 1 through number 5 pitchers are all better than any of the Pittsburgh Pirates' starting pitchers.

Lapsed (due to horrific play) but Lifelong Baseball Fan: Even Snell? Didn't he have good statistics?

Me: The Red Sox pitchers won games.

Lapsed but Lifelong Baseball Fan: Well look who Snell pitched for and look who they pitched for.

Me: Snell's run support was, like, 80th, in the league, and that's counting the couple of games where the Pirates put up a lot of runs.
(Editor's Note: 80th was evidently hyperbole, but if you fuss with this page, you really can have quite a bit of fun. If combing through depressing stats during another playoff-free offseason is your thing, of course.)

Lapsed but Lifelong Baseball Fan: Seriously? All their pitchers are better than ours?

Me: (dubiously) Fine. I don't really follow the American League (editor's note: too many really good baseball teams tend to make me incredibly bitter), so I'll look up the 2007 statistics online.


Here is what I discovered, using only pretty "basic" statistics because I'm lazy:

Josh Beckett: Record: 20-7, ERA 3.27, K 194, BB 40 WHIP 1.14. BAA: .245 DIPS:3.04
Commentary: Yeah. To state the starkly obvious, the Pirates had no starting pitcher close to the statistics of the majors' only 20 game winner.

Curt Schilling: Record: 9-8 ERA: 3.87, K 101 BB 23 WHIP 1.25 BAA .275 DIPS:4.06
Commentary: While his statistics are obviously not as pristine as Beckett's, and although two starting Bucco pitchers (barely) bested him when it comes to ERA, look at the BB rate. Even missing time this season, Curt Schilling is still Curt freaking Schilling. Argue as an optimistic (or delusional, depending on one's perspective) hopeful might that you might want the upside of a young pitcher with room for growth, at this present moment and in another statement of the seriously obvious, there's no starting Bucco pitcher who'd be able to take a number 2 job off Curt Schilling.


Daisuke Matsuzaka: Record: 15-12, ERA: 4.40, K 201 BB 80 WHIP 1.32, BAA .246 DIPS: 4.09
Commentary: Lots of strikeouts, and too many walks. Speaking only in terms of statistics, his statistics seem somewhat equivalent to those of year-long Ian Snell or of Tom Gorzelanny prior to his final three starts. Snell and Gorzy both edged him in ERA, but Matsuzaka holds an advantage over both in K's and in BAA. Still, depending on the identity and composition of the opposing team, in something that sort of shocked me, you might have wanted to pick and choose among Matsuzaka, Snell, and Gorzy.

Tim Wakefield: W: 17-12, ERA: 4.76, K: 110 BB:64 WHIP:1.35, BAA:.264 DIPS: 4.61
Commentary: An ERA that eerily resembles Ian Snell's 2006 ERA. Still, the WHIP is basically a match of Snell's and the BAA is the same. Considering only two statistics, if you wanted an ERA a full run lower and more strikeouts, you wanted the 2007 Ian Snell over the 2007 Tim Wakefield. But if you're considering "crafty veteran" intangibles not possessed by most youthful Bucco players, Tim Wakefield's 2007 statistics indicate he still knew how to pitch this season.

So, there you have it. The best two pitchers for the Pittsburgh Pirates this season would have been, at best, the third and fourth starting pitchers for the 96-game winning Boston Red Sox. The Pirates' best two pitchers in 2007 would have been, most likely, at best, back-of-the-rotation starters for a team that wins 96 games. However, it's highly likely that Tom Gorzelanny would have won at least 15 games, and it's pretty likely Ian Snell would have finished with a win-loss record above .500.

Just for hilarity, let's look at run support in 2007:

Beckett: 6.59

Schilling: 4.29

Matsuzaka: 5.72

Wakefield: 5.76

I'll let you guess which Bucco pitcher averaged 4.02 run support per nine innings versus 5.40 run support per nine innings, figures which ranked 42nd out of 45 eligible NL pitchers and which ranked 17th of 45 eligible NL pitchers. (Hint: It has a lot to do with the won-loss disparity between the two pitchers, though it should also be noted that the bullpen was definitely not kind to the pitcher who, according to the statistics, received more run support, although the bullpen wasn't exactly kind to the other pitcher, either.)

As a blogger/writer, I know I'm supposed to wrap some "tidy bow" to summarize this piece, but really, there's not much of a summary I can offer.


Depressing: Two of the best players for the 2007 Pittsburgh Pirates, their 2 best starting pitchers, would not and should not be the best two starting pitchers for a team that wins 96 games, based on their 2007 performance, as indicated only by statistics sans won-loss records.

Theoretically Uplifting: Two of the best players on the 2007 Pittsburgh Pirates, their 2 best starting pitchers, could play a legitimate role, one that doesn't involve merely watching and cheering, on a team that wins 96 games.

Realistically: Two of the best performers for the 2007 Pirates are not what was wrong with the 2007 team. Provided that the twin miracles of good health and no regression occur, the 2 pitchers could (a huge could, given those two previous variables I have come to count as miracles when it comes to Pirate pitchers) improve upon statistically good seasons.

Anyhow, though, I just thought of this piece as an eye-opener: Look at the statistics of the Red Sox's top 2 pitchers and think about the progress that would have to be made by Pittsburgh's top 2 pitchers. Take a gander at the Red Sox's three and four guys and think about what would need to happen to pitchers assuming the 3 and 4 spots in the Pittsburgh rotation.

From the cold, hard perspective (note Schilling still managed a winning record, albeit barely, despite low run support), look at just how good the pitching really is for a team that wins 96 games.

As for hitting? Not even going there. At least not until it comes time for "player profiles" and answering that dreaded but enlightening question of "What role would such a player, statistically speaking, have on a team that wins 90 games?"