<3 Beltran. Hat tip to Devon for the reminder.
<3 Beltran. Hat tip to Devon for the reminder.
“You ask hitters, they hate whoever came up with the cutter,” said Pettitte, who learned it years ago from the instructor Billy Connors. “They hate that.”
Count the Cincinnati Reds’ Scott Rolen, 35, among the haters. Rolen, a 15-year veteran, said the cutter had never been as prevalent as it is now. Sitting at a table in a hotel ballroom Monday, Rolen nodded toward his All-Star teammates and marveled.
“You look around at the guys in this room, and you’re not going to get anything below 95,” Rolen said. “Guys are throwing 95 with movement. Everybody’s sinking the ball, everybody’s cutting the ball. I remember coming up — just really my years in Philly — a select few guys were throwing a cutter. I don’t remember guys throwing 93-, 94-mile-an-hour cutters, and that seems to be a pitch that guys are throwing.
– Tyler Kepner, New York Times.
I investigated the so-called Year of the Pitcher a couple weeks back and decided that the offensive downturn in baseball doesn’t appear all that massive or striking. Plus we’re still only halfway through the season and it’s silly to make sweeping judgments without comprehensive evidence.
But everyone has basically decided that it’s the Year of the Pitcher, and often in sports — at least the way they’re remembered historically — perception means more than reality.
Looking back at the chart I made for that last post, it’s understandable that so many people would associate the offensive outburst around the turn of the millenium with steroids. But look at where it took off: 1993 and 1994. Why so sudden? Did steroids sweep through the league those years like an epidemic? Did no one think to use steroids before 1993?
Or could it have something to do with the 1993 expansion watering down the talent level of the entire league? The biggest offensive years were 1999 and 2000. Were those the years with the most steroid abuse, or was there some hangover affect from the 1998 expansion?
I’d guess both. And I’d guess the offensive downturn this season — assuming it proves to exist — has as much to do with the talent level in the league catching up to the number of teams as it does with the cleanliness of the players.
I bet the popularity of the cutter is part of it too. I never heard that suggestion before, but it seems to make sense. And maybe recent emphasis on pitch limits and biomechanics have produced pitchers that throw harder in general.
With Alex and Cliff from Bronx Banter.
“It’s not my body, so I don’t know exactly what he’s feeling. I also don’t know what he’s telling other people that he’s feeling,” Wright said Monday afternoon at a press conference at the Anaheim Marriott, as Reyes sat at an adjacent table, conducting his own interviews. “But if there’s any chance that he could do any more damage to himself, or if there’s a chance maybe it’s not best for the team for him to be out there, I think ultimately somebody needs to say something and avoid him hurting himself, because he’s going to want to be out there to play and he’s going to want to be out there trying to do things that maybe he shouldn’t.”
Had Wright not intervened, would anyone else have? Wright indicated over the weekend he didn’t know the answer. It’s certainly debatable.
Everyone’s asking the same questions. I brought them up Saturday after the game. Howard Megdal wondered about them yesterday on SNY.tv. Andy Martino did the same in this morning’s Daily News.
Why did David Wright have to be the person to stop Jose Reyes from playing through pain and risking further injury? Where was the manager, the general manager, the medical staff? Did no one learn anything from last year?
It’s absurd. Surreal even.
And look: Hopefully all goes well and Reyes heals with a few days off and this whole thing becomes just a weird little hiccup in an otherwise positive season. But it’s baffling nonetheless. What happened to Prevention and Recovery? Did the Mets somehow think that since Angel Pagan healed reasonably quickly from his oblique strain, Reyes would necessarily do the same? Reyes never denied that he was in pain. Obviously he wants to play through it; he’s a professional athlete, that’s how he’s wired.
Ugh. Whatever. Whatever, whatever.
The only upside to this is it again demonstrates how lucky we are, as Mets fans, to have David Wright around.
I have, in the past, accused Wright of being a crowd-pleaser and a cliche machine, but the more I hear him talk the less I think that’s the case. I think maybe he just gets it. He’s the guy who said, “we’re healthy,” when asked about the changes in the clubhouse this year and who straight-up dismissed Omar Minaya’s comments about the team’s lack of edge last year.
Wright’s comments about Reyes yesterday actually read a little like a column I wrote about Reyes’ injuries back in October: No one can understand anyone else’s pain and it shouldn’t be the responsibility of players to diagnose their own injuries.
David Wright has already produced several wins for the Mets this year with his bat and glove. And he appears to be the only person in the organization concerned with securing more wins in the future. What a stud.
Alex keeps perspective in light of the sad news that George Steinbrenner has died.
Seriously, I feared he’d hurt himself on that play. Looked like a broken wrist waiting to happen. But Jeff Francoeur is resilience personified.
Your thoughts on the Mets’ and Yanks’ first-half MVPs? Biggest disappointments? Biggest surprises?
This was just for fun, after all, and the way MC Hammer hacked his way through batting practice before the Taco Bell All-Star Legends & Celebrity Softball Game made you wonder whether his obliques would hold up. Thankfully, they did, and Hammer, the one-time Oakland A’s batboy and San Francisco Giants tryout hopeful, had his opportunity to play on a Major League Baseball diamond. He even got to trot around the bases after a first-inning home run.
The article lists a slew of celebrities and former baseball players that participated in the Taco Bell All-Star Legends & Celebrity Softball Game, but not a single Taco Bell Legend or Taco Bell Celebrity. Obviously the foremost Taco Bell Legend, Glen Bell, is not around to bat cleanup (RIP), but what about Joey Porter or Charles Barkley? What about Denise, the all-time greatest Taco Bell employee? The Chihuahua? Anyone?
I hereby declare shenanigans.
After a rough homestand with the Reds and Braves, the Mets’ first-half ended with a flurry of good news: Beltran showed up, three Mets pitchers shut down the braves, Jerry Manuel confirmed that Angel Pagan will get the lion’s share of playing time in right field, and Jeff Francoeur was cool about it.
Cool on all counts. Frenchy becomes about a billion times more lovable as a right-handed bench bat. He mashes left-handed pitching and affords the team defensive flexibility that Chris Carter does not. All but three of Francoeur’s 6849 innings in Major League outfields have come in right, but since Pagan can play all three spots and Beltran will certainly need rest, Francoeur’s arm becomes a valuable late-inning weapon whenever the team has a big enough lead to shoulder his puny on-base percentage.
Replacing Francoeur with Beltran in the lineup massively upgrades the Mets’ offense, even if Beltran is a mere shell of his former self. Assuming Jose Reyes returns to full health soon, the Mets’ lineup should be good enough to keep the team in the pennant race regardless of if they improve their pitching.
Oh, and a fun note, for what it’s worth: Since word came down that Beltran was ready to start playing rehab games on June 22, Angel Pagan has hit .412 with a .446 on-base percentage and a .686 slugging (though he missed a few games with the oblique injury). Jeff Francoeur has hit .197 with a .234 OBP and a .295 slugging.
If you’ve read this site with any regularity you know I don’t put much stock in small samples in isolation or in assuming a player’s inherent clutchness, but it’s hard not to give it up to Pagan for distinguishing himself from Francoeur once it became clear he had to. I’m certain it’s more an effect of Pagan being the better player than Pagan stepping up under pressure, but he picked a very convenient time to announce his superiority with so much authority.