Obligatory Moneyball review

I didn’t intend to weigh in on the Moneyball movie because almost everyone else in the whole world already has, but a few people asked me about it so here goes:

I thought it was kind of boring. I didn’t hate it, I just never got all that excited by anything happening on screen.

Granted, I generally prefer movies where stuff explodes and tough guys crack wise and something crazy happens in front of a drunk guy who then looks down at his drink like, “whoa, this is good stuff.” Obviously none of that happened in Moneyball, but none of that happened in The Social Network either and I enjoyed that one.

I guess I should consider the movie’s perspective from the point of view of someone who hasn’t spent countless hours discussing and arguing over the fallout from and subject of the book. From that standpoint, though, I think I might be left wishing the movie more overtly connected some of the theoretical dots, baseball-wise. It shows that Billy Beane and Paul “Peter Brand” DePodesta wanted to acquire inexpensive players with good on-base percentages, but doesn’t really include much detail about why that stat was undervalued elsewhere or how it contributes to winning.

But then I guess I’m only interested in that stuff because I enjoy baseball the way I do. The movie glosses over some of the technical nerdery in favor of sort of 21st-century Robin Hood story, with the cunning and charming Beane and his band of Not Particularly Merry Men (Man, actually — Brand seems to be the only person in the A’s organization on board with Beane’s plans) working to undermine the wealthy (and not depicted) Sheriff of Yankeeham.

And I guess in a way that did happen, and those types of stories always resonate with people (perhaps especially, I should say, in this economy). But the movie seemed more focused on why he did it — a series of internal and external conflicts — than how he did it. I guess acquiring Scott Hatteberg doesn’t exactly necessitate a heist, but hey, it’s Hollywood.

Oh, and the movie spent a lot of time further exposing just how hot Brad Pitt is, which I guess is a tough thing to avoid if you’re making a movie starring Brad Pitt. But at times Moneyball seemed like a film about Brad Pitt’s arm muscles with a baseball subplot.

The movie produced a couple of hearty laughs — many of which were included in the previews, and Chris Pratt was notably good as Hatteberg. Pitt and Jonah Hill were just fine, and Philip Seymour Hoffman was believable enough as Art Howe to make Mets fans everywhere cringe.

The Moneyball movie was a sort-of faithful adaptation to a book that was itself sort-of faithful to what actually happened. It held my interest for most of its two-plus hour run time, but I never got lost in it the way I do in my favorite movies or the way I do, for that matter, in great baseball games.

Jets lose uglily

It seems like some in the media and blogosphere want to partly exonerate Antonio Cromartie for his brutal performance in the Jets’ 34-24 loss to the Raiders yesterday. I do not. Sure, at least one of his four penalties was probably a bad call, but most of them weren’t.

Cromartie finished second on the team with five tackles, but that’s generally a bad sign for cornerbacks. Darrelle Revis, for example, finished without a tackle. With Revis playing his typical dominant coverage, the Raiders obviously targeted Cromartie from the start — so much so that it became easy to forget Revis was even playing for long stretches of the game.

But worst of all, Cromartie followed a strong special-teams performance against the Jaguars with a backbreaking boot and bobble of a kickoff that led to the Raiders’ second touchdown in about a minute, a massive momentum shift that doomed Gang Green.

Not long later, Cromartie added injury to ineffectiveness, hobbling into the locker room with what is supposedly a bruised lung.

The Jets’ offense managed 24 points, impressive considering the sad state of their offensive line. Rookie center Colin Baxter played a hell of a lot better than he did against Jacksonville, but was physically overmatched by the Raiders’ strong defensive line on multiple plays.

It didn’t help that the rest of the Jets’ offensive line struggled, missing blocks and blowing assignments. The Raiders sacked Mark Sanchez four times. Most of the Jets’ best plays came on roll-out passes and runs outside the tackles, away from the overwhelmed interior linemen.

Sanchez had a good day, considering the constant pressure from the Raiders’ defense. But his lone interception came on an awful decision, throwing on the run to a multiply covered Derrick Mason in the end zone on a broken first-down play.

Bold Flavors Snack of the Week

I’m going to be honest: I intended this new weekly feature to be part of a weekly fantasy football post. The idea was to chart the guys most frequently named “great plays” by various fantasy gurus, then come back on Monday or Tuesday to see if there’s any consistency to fantasy football guruism.

But really the whole thing would’ve just been an excuse to post a photo and description of something I ate while watching football the week before, the Bold Flavors Snack of the Week — named of course in loving tribute to the @DadBoner Twitter account.

I decided I don’t want to spin the fantasy spin into some sort of meta fantasy web, so here’s the snack alone.

These are bacon-wrapped cream cheese-stuffed jalapenos:

Many variations of these can be found in barbecue cookbooks, often under the name “Dragon Turds.” Supposedly pitmasters prepare them, throw them on the smoker and eat them while they’re waiting for their meat to finish.

Though I actually had my smoker going on Sunday, I made these in the toaster oven (I was hungry and knew they’d cook a lot quicker that way). Very easy to do.

You need:

Bacon (I used pepper bacon because I’m like that)
Cream cheese, softened
Jalapenos
Toothpicks (IMPORTANT!)

I tried making these a couple weeks ago with cheddar cheese and without toothpicks and everything went haywire. The bacon unwrapped from the peppers and the cheese melted out everywhere, so I just wound up with bacon-wrapped jalapenos not really stuffed with anything. So they were still amazing, but not as good as the ones pictured.

To make them:

1) Preheat the toaster oven (or regular oven, I guess) to 400-degrees (Fahrenheit. This is America, dammit).

2) Cut off the stems from the jalapenos and slice them down one side. Remove the seeds and pith. Wear gloves if you plan on touching your eyes anytime within the next 10 hours. Or don’t wear gloves and suffer through the agony of taking your contacts out with your eyes on fire, which is what I do because who has gloves?

3) Spoon cream cheese into the jalapenos. I used about a heaping teaspoon of cream cheese per jalapeno, but I’m working with pretty small jalapenos. Fill those bastards up, you’re going to want that cream cheese.

4) Wrap the jalapenos in bacon and secure with a toothpick. I used about half a slice of bacon per jalapeno, taking special care to cover the top of the jalapenos where the cheese is most likely to spill out.

5) Lay the jalapenos on a toaster oven tray and bake until the bacon looks delicious.

6) Remove jalapenos from tray and make some perfunctory effort to let them cool before eating them, then get impatient and bite into one like a minute later even though you know molten cream cheese will scald your mouth.

They’re delicious. I only made five because I only had five jalapenos, plus because I’d prefer not to die. But five was pretty much as many jalapenos as I can eat. These things are spicy, fellas.

 

Watching Moneyball with Bill James

I thought it was a terrific movie. Among all the baseball movies of the last generation, this was the baseballest.

Bill James.

Bill James attended the Moneyball premiere, meaning James watched a movie based on a book based on a series of events inspired by his own book. BusinessWeek’s feature about James watching the movie is good, but I imagine watching just about anything with Bill James would be pretty interesting. Would Bill James figure out a way to objectively assess Wipeout competitors? What does Bill James think about SpongeBob SquarePants?

Via Tangotiger.

Huh?

In order to help protect against future concussions, Vick is planning to refit his helmet with Kevlar padding, the CEO of Unequaled Technologies told Paolantonio on Wednesday.

Rob Vito told ESPN that he will meet with Vick in Philadelphia on Friday to refit his helmet to help Vick deal with the post-concussive blows to the head in Sunday’s home opener against the New York Giants.

“The 100-year-old foam everybody is using in helmets is antiquated,” Vito said. “Concussions are the injury of our age and really they should not be happening anymore.”

ESPN.com.

Wait, does that work? And if so, why isn’t everyone in the NFL wearing Kevlar-lined helmets?

Why baseball is awesome, part ten billion

Yesterday evening, in the ninth inning of a long game delayed over two hours by rain, nearly six hours after the Mets and Cardinals were set to start playing, with the long-since mathematically eliminated Mets losing by two runs, Ruben Tejada worked the count full after falling into an 0-2 hole to Fernando Salas with the bases loaded and one out.

Tejada smacked Salas’ next pitch, a fastball, into left field and just beyond the reach of Shane Robinson. Two Mets scored, tying the game. On the Metro-North train, I involuntarily and very audibly whooped.

Around this time of year — seemingly every year now — people ask me why I keep tuning in to every Mets game. The team is essentially done, “folded up” even by its own manager’s account. Several of the club’s most entertaining and promising young players are injured. There are more important games being played elsewhere.

Am I watching in hopes of seeing the club’s first no-hitter? Jose Reyes’ pursuit of the batting title? At-bats for Val Pascucci? Home runs by Lucas Duda?

No. Wait, actually: Yes, but only insomuch as all those things represent aspects of baseball. Awesome, awesome baseball.

I laugh and tell people I can’t pull myself away, but it’s not quite that. I could easily have entertained myself last night watching the season premieres of NBC’s excellent Thursday night sitcoms instead of a few innings each of the Blue Jays and Angels’ marathon and the Rays’ shellacking of Yankee pitching.

I didn’t because I know my TiVo will keep those shows for a drowsier time. By next week there’ll be much less baseball and no Mets baseball whatsoever. In a little over a month, Major League Baseball will crown its champion and then there’ll be no sniff of on-field action until March.

So I keep tuning in, because sometimes the Mets come back from four runs down in the ninth inning to beat an actual playoff contender. And though wins for the Mets don’t really mean a damn thing at this point, they can apparently still be exciting enough to make me yell out in a crowded train car.

It’s not something I need to justify. Baseball rules.

The bargain-bin closer

At Amazin’ Avenue, Chris McShane takes a look at some pending free-agent closers likely to be inexpensive due to recent injury troubles. I especially like this idea:

Jonathan Broxton: The Dodgers, specifically Don Mattingly, may not want Broxton back next year after he spent the grand majority of 2011 on the disabled list with bone spurs in his elbow. He’s had surgery to get rid of the bone spurs, and if his recovery goes as well as other pitchers who had the same procedure, he could be ready for spring training.

Prior to the injury, Broxton was dominant, striking out over eleven batters per nine innings in his career. He’s still only 27-years-old and will turn 28 in June. There was some concern about Broxton’s drop in average fastball velocity in 2010, a 2.5 mph drop, but he still managed a pretty good year out of the Dodgers’ bullpen. If the best Broxton can get this winter is a one-year, incentive-laden deal, he seems like a no-brainer for the Mets.

I mentioned Broxton as a potential fit for the Mets on the Baseball Show a week ago, and the odd comments from Mattingly make it seem less likely Broxton will return to the Dodgers. As McShane notes, Broxton was dominant in the Dodgers’ bullpen as recently as 2009 and still pretty damn good (by peripherals, at least) in 2010.

Broxton also holds the distinction of being the single largest human I’ve seen in a Major League clubhouse. He is listed at 6’4″ and 300 pounds, and in person he appears to be at least that. Maybe his presence in New York would let Lucas Duda feel a little more comfortable in his own frame or give the Jets another option to investigate should they suffer any more injuries on their offensive line.

Cornering the market

Asomugha is a “press” corner, meaning he lines up right on top of receivers like a basketball player on defense and dares them to get past him, a technique that used to be called bump and run when a corner was permitted to be far more physical with a receiver until the ball was thrown….

Passing offenses are based on impeccable timing. Asomugha’s primary ability is to force quarterbacks to improvise. He disrupts routes through strength and technique. Asomugha engages in hand-to-hand combat in the 5-yard zone where such tangling is legal. The receiver is aiming for a clean release to get into his pattern immediately. Asomugha aims to redirect him, without grabbing a fistful of jersey or getting too blatant with his grappling.

Robert Weintraub, N.Y. Times.

Click through and read all of Weintraub’s very technical feature on Nnamdi Asomugha. It makes me miss the hell out of playing football.

Today in Taco Bell violence

Angered that his Taco Bell drive-thru order failed to include hot sauce, a Missouri man returned to the fast food restaurant and allegedly pulled a shotgun on an employee, who fled in fear from the takeout window.

The bizarre incident Saturday evening resulted in the arrest of Jeremy Combs, a 30-year-old convicted felon, on both state and federal charges. 

The Smoking Gun.

Yikes. Look: We all get upset when the Taco Bell employees forget to include the hot sauce or fail to provide the specific taco sauce we request. But since Combs has been arrested for 14 felony counts and thrice convicted, he might want to reserve the shotgun for… well, never.

Luckily, in my years of eating Taco Bell I’ve never been subjected to gun violence at any restaurant. The closest I can offer are a couple of minor skirmishes with drunken morons in parking lots and the following, which made for a popular post on my LiveJournal back in the day:

In February of 2004, I found myself in the frustrating position between paying for my Taco Bell at the first drive-thru window and receiving it at the second. Two cars in front of me, a black Jetta lingered at the pick-up window for what felt like an astonishingly long time — time of course being relative, with no minutes ever lasting longer then those spent anticipating burritos.

In front of me, a man in a green Explorer waited patiently until, for whatever reason, the man in the blue Mazda Tribute right behind me — who had passed the menu board but not yet paid — started honking.

Green Explorer-guy got out of his car, walked right past mine, and started slamming his hands on the windshield of the Tribute, yelling, “give some respect! give some respect!”

It was terrifying and baffling. Respect for whom? The overworked Taco Bell employees? Black Jetta? The sanctity of the drive-thru experience? He didn’t say. He just demanded respect. As you may know, Taco Bell offers MexiMelts, Mexican Pizzas and all manners of Gorditas and Chalupas, but respect is not on the menu. You can feed an orchestra for $50, but if you’re looking for the promise of respect you’re barking up the wrong menu speaker.

The situation was quickly diffused when the black Jetta pulled away and Green Explorer-guy rushed to pull his car up to the second window. Sometimes people just get a little crazy when they’re waiting for tacos.

Hat tip to all five people that alerted me to the shotgun story.