The cost of Garza

Rumors are swirling that the Rays and Cubs are finishing a deal to send starter Matt Garza to Chicago. In return, the Rays will supposedly get prospects Chris Archer, Hak-Ju Lee, Brandon Guyer and Robinson Chirinos.

Last month, about 70% of Tedquarters readers said they would not trade Wilmer Flores and Jenrry Mejia to get Garza. I countered that I might, since both players appear so far off from contributing to the Major League team and Garza is a durable if unspectacular starter under team control though arbitration for several years.

Obviously we have no way of knowing how the Rays value the Mets’ and Cubs’ prospects, but as a point of comparison: John Sickels gave Archer a B+ and Lee a B in his most recent overview of the Cubs’ system. He gave Flores a B+ and Mejia a B.

Archer, like Mejia, is a hard-throwing right-hander who has had success up to — but not beyond — Double-A. Archer is a year older than Mejia, but his status as a prospect benefits from the fact that he was never in the hands of Jerry Manuel. Unrushed, he was able to stay in Minor League rotations for 142 1/3 innings in High A and Double-A. Mejia threw 81 1/3 across five levels (including rehab stints).

For what it’s worth, Mejia had a much better reputation as a prospect than Archer did coming into the 2010 season, before the ill-fated eighth-inning-guy experiment. But Archer’s stature grew thanks to an excellent season.

Lee, like Flores, is a young shortstop who played in A-ball this season. Other than that, they don’t have a ton in common. Scouting reports say Lee is a plus (or even “special”) defender, while few experts believe Flores has any shot of sticking at shortstop. Flores projects to hit for a lot more power, but Lee has shown a lot more discipline in the low Minors.

Still, by Sickels’ admittedly shorthand rating system, Archer/Lee and Flores/Mejia is basically a wash. But since both Flores and Mejia have spent time on both Baseball America‘s and Keith Law’s Top 100 prospects lists in the past, let’s say the Mets pair would have slightly more trade value, if only based on their reputations.

But then on top of Archer and Lee, the Cubs traded Guyer and Chirinos, two players that likely enticed the Rays. Sickels had them at B- and C+ grades, respectively, but both enjoyed success in the high Minors in 2010. Chirinos, a 26-year-old righty-hitting infielder-turned-catcher, appears ready to at least backup to John Jaso behind the plate after a .999 OPS across Double-A and Triple-A in 2010.

I’m not sure there are great comps for either in the Mets’ system. But using sweeping strokes at players of similar caliber, let’s say the Mets could have landed Garza for Mejia, Flores, Sean Ratliff and Dillon Gee (not that the Rays need starting pitching, but whatever). Would you make that deal?

I’d say no. Not because I’m convinced any of those guys will ever produce as much in the Majors as Garza will in the next few seasons, but because it’s simply too much bulk to give up from an already thin system. The Mets, as I’ve been saying for years now, need dudes. Cost-controlled, contributing, non-star dudes. And the best way to get those is to develop them, and the best way to successfully develop players is to hang on to as many as possible, knowing that most won’t pan out.

What am I doing wrong? Is there more comparable package of Mets’ prospects than the one I created? Would you trade that package for Garza?

Good Luck

Luck led Stanford to a 12-1 record and played brilliantly in a rout of Virginia Tech in the Orange Bowl, confirming the consensus that he would be the top player selected in the draft. Luck also finished second to Auburn quarterback Cam Newton in the voting for the 2010 Heisman Trophy. Luck’s father, Oliver, said his son wanted to complete his degree in architectural design, a rigorous major in the school of engineering. Luck also felt, his father said, the tug of finishing his career with the players with whom he entered school.

“He wants to finish with those guys,” Oliver Luck said in a phone interview. “It’s a great group of players. That was by far the most important factor.”

Oliver Luck was listening to radio hosts criticize the decision and recalled the psychological test in which people perceive different things in inkblots.

Pete Thamel, N.Y. Times.

I guess people feel the need to criticize just about every decision everybody ever makes, but a college athlete’s choice to stay in college or go pro has always seemed impossible to quibble with one way or the other. I suppose if a guy isn’t ready to go pro it’s one thing, but then people said that about Mark Sanchez and the decision seems to have turned out OK.

The way I see it, there are plenty of good reasons to turn pro and plenty of good reasons to stay in college. When Jeff Green and Greg Monroe left Georgetown for the NBA, I couldn’t fault either because they stood to make a lot of money and they’d risk injury (and jeopardizing their immediate earning potential) if they returned for another year with the Hoyas. When Roy Hibbert stuck around all four years, I thought it was awesome, since the development time in college would clearly benefit his NBA career and because he was able to earn a college degree.

Plus, you know, college is fun and everything. But then probably being a millionaire athlete is pretty fun too.

Essentially, if you’re a star college athlete with big-time professional prospects, you’re in something of a win-win situation. Luck, for his part, gets the opportunity to compete for the Heisman Trophy and a national title and to earn a Stanford diploma. To him, clearly, those were valuable enough to forgo the immediate riches of the draft.

About this Beefy Crunch Burrito

Sorry if I’ve been remiss in reviewing the Beefy Crunch Burrito here. I know you’ve been expecting it, and I haven’t delivered until right now. I apologize.

Truth is I wanted to test out the Beefy Crunch Burrito from a Taco Bell other than the one nearest to my house, which is the Worst Taco Bell in the World. The pathetic part is that I actually planned some of my Christmas shopping around a better Taco Bell just so I could try said Beefy Crunch Burrito. But then I went on vacation and never got around to posting anything about it.

I took an exterior photo of the burrito but it just looked like any Taco Bell burrito. Here’s the inside:

So how is it? Well, as you can see from that picture, I’m not sure I’d call it “Beefy.” The “Ricey Crunchy Burrito” would be a more accurate name, though inevitably a less popular menu item.

And that’s kind of the thing. I’m hardly one to hate on Taco Bell, but really, who wants rice from Taco Bell? It’s pure filler, and the reason I shy away from items like the Grilled Stuft Burrito. I’m here for the beef, people.

Besides that quibble though, this is a good burrito. I don’t need to tell TedQuarters-reading Taco Bell enthusiasts about the tortilla, sour cream, seasoned beef, and nacho cheese because basically if you’ve ever had anything supreme from Taco Bell you know what all of those things taste like. The big innovation here is the presence of Flamin’ Hot Fritos, which are an excellent addition to the Taco Bell roster of ingredients.

I’ve long advocated the Crispy Red Strips as a great way to insert crunchiness into portable Taco Bell items (i.e. the ones you can eat while driving). But awesome though the Crispy Red Strips are, they don’t add flavor, just crunch. The Flamin’ Hot Fritos build on the work done by the Crispy Red Strips and elevate it, bringing a good deal of heat into the equation.

I look forward to their inclusion in Taco Bell items that aren’t so bogged down by rice. How ’bout a Beefy Crunchy Soft Taco, folks? Oh, and with lava sauce.

Various items of trivia about Gerry Rafferty songs

As you may have heard, Scottish singer and songwriter Gerry Rafferty passed away earlier this week. Though I cannot purport to be familiar with much of his work beyond his two most famous songs — “Stuck in the Middle” and “Baker Street” — a Wikipedia tangent this morning led to the uncovering of a bunch of interesting trivia about those two songs.

“Stuck in the Middle” was actually written as a Bob Dylan parody, which makes the lyric, “clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right” make a whole lot more sense, since it’s unbelievably Bob Dylany sounding.

Another fun fact about “Stuck in the Middle” that’s not listed on the Wikipedia is that no one who has ever seen Reservoir Dogs can ever again hear that song without thinking about one particular scene. (That movie was awesome, FWIW.) Also, the Moo Shoo Porkestra covered “Stuck in the Middle” twice, but it didn’t really fit our style and never went over that well so we bailed on it.

“Baker Street,” best known for its absurdly triumphant saxophone riff, was actually supposed to have an absurdly triumphant guitar riff but the guitar player didn’t show up to the studio that day. Saxophonist Raphael Ravenscroft, who was in the studio to record a soprano sax part on a different song and may very well have written his own Wikipedia page, suggested he record the part on the alto sax he had in his car. Thus spake the Wikipedia: “The solo led to what became known as “the ‘Baker Street’ phenomenon”, a resurgence in the sales of saxophones and their use in mainstream pop music and TV advertising.”

Furthermore, Slash has cited Baker Street as an influence on his guitar part in “Sweet Child o’ Mine,” which seems to make sense because everything Slash plays is also absurdly triumphant.

Lastly, my friend Bill has an apartment with a deck overlooking bustling Dupont Circle in Washington, D.C., and has been known to bust out an alto sax, go outside, and honk out a brutal rendition of the Baker Street theme in the evening, out into the night air. That’s also not on the Wikipedia page.

No love for Johnny Franco

GC at Can’t Stop the Bleeding passes along this Marty Noble article about John Franco appearing on only 4.6% of Hall of Fame ballots, which means he drops off future ballots for good.

Franco is by no means a Hall of Famer, but he probably has a better case than some Mets fans realize. Franco is 17th all time in ERA+ among pitchers with 1000 or more innings pitched. Franco has a better rate over more innings than Hall-enshrined closer Bruce Sutter, though Sutter pitched far more innings per season (just way fewer seasons) and likely earned votes for both his reputation as inventor of the splitter and his possession of perhaps baseball’s best-ever beard.

Franco didn’t pitch nearly as many innings in relief as fellow Hall of Famers Rollie Fingers and Goose Gossage, plus he didn’t have nearly as cool a name. Also, for whatever it’s worth, Gossage was an All-Star nine times and Fingers won the Cy Young and MVP in 1981. Franco made only four All-Star teams and finished in the top 10 of Cy Young voting only once, in 1994.

Still, if Franco had managed to muster something like 15 more innings per season, a reasonable case could be made for his Hall of Fame worthiness. I’m blinded by bias, of course, but the guy was a very good reliever for a very long time and pitched through an outrageous offensive era.

Franco, quoted in Noble’s piece, sounds disappointed that he won’t stay on the ballot but resigned to his fate as a non-Hall of Famer. But the awesome thing about John Franco is you kind of know he thinks he’s a Hall of Famer no matter what anyone says. I once watched Franco throw four straight changeups — three of them right over the middle — to strike out Barry Bonds in the midst of Bonds’ ridiculous stretch of dominance.

I know a lot of Mets fans have soured on Franco for a variety of reasons, but I’ll forever think he was pretty sweet. Good pitcher, great mustache man, exemplar of New York-guy bravado.

Sandwich Hall of Fame now a thing

Check out the sidebar. I think I got all of them, but if you remember any Hall of Fame sandwiches I missed, let me know and I’ll add ’em.

I made the executive decision to put the heretofore unrated Defonte’s of Brooklyn hot roast beef sandwich in the hall. Call it a Veteran’s Committee selection. I came to the decision based on a combination of the many strong recommendations from sandwich enthusiasts I trust with my own growing desire to eat another and recollection that — in addition to having eaten the sandwich at an inopportune moment, I was a bit sick the day I tried it. And it was still really delicious. So I assume that’s a worthy Hall of Fame sandwich in optimal conditions.

If you hover over a link, the description will provide the name and location of each sandwich’s purveyor. Or just click through for full details of the sandwich. And also because you love giving me more page views.

I wish I could figure out some way to make plaques, but I don’t think it’d be fair to the sandwiches to depict them in bronze. Also, I’m extremely lazy. So this will have to do for now.

To make room for the Sandwich Hall of Fame, I’ve killed the Twitter feed widget, which never worked right for some reason. But I’ve placed the Sandwich Hall of Fame below Embarrassing Things About Cole Hamels, because nothing in the Sandwich Hall of Fame directly relates to anything embarrassing about Cole Hamels.

Sandwich of the Week

Early Sandwich of the Week this week because I took a break from them on vacation, because I ate an excellent sandwich last night, and to coincide with Hall of Fame balloting results.

The sandwich: Cemita al Pastor from Tulcingo del Valle, 47th St. and 10th Ave. in Manhattan.

The construction: Seasoned pork, pineapple, Oaxaca cheese, refried beans, papalo and chipotle sauce on a sesame-seed bun.

Important background information: Tulcingo del Valle spans two storefronts on 10th. The north half, which I only saw because I needed to use the bathroom, is a clean, cozily lit restauranty-looking restaurant. The south half, where I ate, clearly used to be a deli and still kind of is. It has table service, but it still has a refrigerator running the length of one wall in the Manhattan deli style. It even has some refrigerator sections with sliding doors and some with those weird dangly clear plastic things that I’ve never seen anywhere but delis in New York city.

What it looks like:

How it tastes: Good. The thick shreds of pork are moist, fatty and flavorful. There is enough pork to fully cover the bun, it’s hardly overstuffed. The bread was flaky on the outside and absorbent enough on the inside to soak up the sandwich’s delicious mix of sauces, juices and greases but maintain its structural integrity.

Oaxacan cheese, it turns out, is awfully similar to (the same as?) queso blanco I used to buy in the supermarket in Prospect Heights. For the uninitiated, it’s similar in flavor and texture to mozzarella, only perhaps a bit chewier — which worked on the sandwich.

The avocado was soft, ripe and delicious, and, along with the cheese, added a creamy quality to the sandwich. I thought the papalo was cilantro until I reread the Grub Street Top 101 Sandwiches post this morning. It has a sharp, clean bite that went well with the remarkable spiciness of the chipotle sauce.

About that: Whoa nelly. I generally enjoy spicy food. I order my wings hot or extra hot and I pour Cholula on many of my lunches. Actually, when the waitress dropped off my sandwich at Tulcingo Del Valle and walked away, I briefly regretted not remembering to ask for hot sauce.

But there was no shortage of heat on this sandwich. The plentiful chipotle sauce was hearty, smoky and fiery hot, and tasted less like a vinegary Tabasco-style sauce and more like eating an actual fire. Still a delicious wood-burning fire, mind you, but perhaps a bit painful. This sandwich might have actually been a touch too spicy. By the time I got to the second half of the thing, my mouth, throat and esophagus were burning.

I didn’t even know there was pineapple in the sandwich until I revisited the Grub Street post. I believe that it might have been on there because there was a mess of ingredients and an explosion of delicious flavors in this sandwich, but it was hard to distinguish any pineapples with the eye or taste buds.

What it’s worth: The Cemita al Pastor and a soda cost me $10 plus tip. Plus it was about a 20-minute walk there from my office and a half hour from the restaurant to Grand Central to get home. I always enjoy a good post-sandwich stroll, though.

How it rates: If the Sandwich Hall of Fame were determined by a group of voters instead of my own whims, I imagine the Cemita al Pastor would not immediately earn entry. Yeah, it had some great elements, but ultimately that chipotle sauce hurts its case by physically hurting the consumer.

But then people who really like spicy food will say, “Certainly the Cemita al Pastor deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. Look at the inspired, delicious ingredients! And that spiciness is part of what makes it so good.”

And then some people will be all, “Yeah, you know what? You’re right. Come to think of it, before the pain set in, that was a really delicious sandwich.”

But others will be like, “What? Don’t let them talk you into it; that sandwich was too spicy! No sandwich should be too spicy to finish. Look at the bacon cheddar burger from Bill’s Bar and Burger — now that’s a Hall of Famer! Sure, perhaps it’s not the most original sandwich in the world, but it’s consistently very good and always a joy to eat.”

And then spiceheads and their sympathizers in this case will say, “A good bacon cheeseburger that’s not even Top 5 in the city for the Hall of Fame? Your standards are all wrong and you are stupid.”

And then the remaining people hellbent on keeping the Cemita al Pastor out of the Sandwich Hall of Fame will say, “I’m stupid? You’re the cretin with an indelicate palate!”

And then further arguing and more heated name-calling will continue until most people ultimately realize the Cemita al Pastor is probably a deserving hall of famer. 91 out of 100.

Thinking out loud

I got to thinking about R.A. Dickey last night, which happens sometimes. It struck me that, though Dickey’s awesomeness on the mound in 2010 certainly endeared him to Mets fans more than any of his other qualities, his quirky off-the-field awesomeness turned out to be one of the most entertaining aspects of the last few brutal months of the season. Dude says smart things and reads literature and writes poetry and wants to be a U.S. Open ballboy and goes on solitary retreats for contemplation. For a while it seemed like we were getting new and interesting information about R.A. Dickey everyday.

OK here’s where I start making some leaps. First, don’t get me wrong: I have always been confidant that performance affects morale more than morale affects performance. And I believe that the general manager’s task should be to put the best possible team on the field year after year and that the most effective way of doing that often involves entirely tuning out media bluster.

But undoubtedly morale has some affect on a baseball team. No? You have to figure it at least creates an environment that’s more amenable to free-agents (though obviously not as important as the whole money thing). And rumors have always swirled about the way Mets ownership reacts to the newspapers.

So I wonder if there’s some advantage to Sandy Alderson and his crew in signing players that might provide reporters some good copy in Spring Training to distract the media and, in turn, fans, from getting all bent out of shape about how there have been no major changes.

I mention because Chris Capuano seems like, yes, a good upside gamble for a reasonably low price. But he’s also a well-spoken Phi Beta Kappa Segway enthusiast who, that OnMilwaukee interview tells us, doesn’t eat like most ballplayers. And two of the other starters the Mets have been rumored to be pursuing this offseason — Jeff Francis and Chris Young — have reputations as some of the smartest guys in baseball.

Of course, it’s way more likely that the three seemingly most cost-effective reclamation-project starters this offseason also happen to be smart guys. And when I think about it, it doesn’t seem like it’s really all that hard to catnip fans and the media during Spring Training, with hope springing eternal and all. Plus, as a fan I really don’t want the front-office worrying about anything but building a sustainable winner, and I’d much rather it just shoulder any criticism than work to alleviate it.

So never mind then. I’m just saying it’d be cool if Chris Capuano would grow a beard and start making an awesome yelling face when he pitches. I’d appreciate that.

Hall of Fame stuff

Of course, not all players in the recent past were steroid users. But the common ground for all players is the fact that their workplace did not test. And the common ground for players before 1947 was the color barrier. It was disgraceful and disgusting, but it was part of the game….

The fear is that a player could be elected and then exposed as a steroid user. But voters have already taken that risk, because we will never know the complete roster of steroid users.

Guessing is dubious. The first player who tested positive, in 2005, was a speedy outfielder named Alex Sanchez. Did anyone ever look at Jason Grimsley, a nondescript middle reliever, and think hardcore steroids user?

Maybe Bagwell took steroids, maybe not. Bagwell played most of his career before testing, but so did everybody else who has ever appeared on a Hall ballot.

Tyler Kepner, N.Y. Times.

I’ve been avoiding the Hall of Fame debate here because most of it has gotten so loud and stupid that I stopped paying attention. But when I saw the sacred name of Mike Piazza sullied in the Daily News this morning, I figured it was time to chime in.

Kepner’s entire piece is worth a read. He nails it. It’s unfair to punish players simply for playing in an era when the league (and the journalists covering it) failed to do anything to stop cheaters.

I don’t get too worked up over the Oscars or the Grammys or the Gold Gloves or even the MVP and Cy Young Awards. I’m arrogant enough to be confident in my opinions, and no academy of voters is ever going to convince me that The English Patient was a better movie than Happy Gilmore.

But I care about the Baseball Hall of Fame. It is our most comprehensive monument to our greatest thing. I like Cooperstown; every single store and restaurant is baseball-themed. It’s like Mecca.

And if Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens and — more ridiculously — Mike Piazza are somehow not enshrined in the Baseball Hall of Fame, then the place becomes a total joke.

Those fellows are among the best players who ever lived. Many, many of the best players who ever lived — ones already in the Hall of Fame — were cheaters and racists and addicts and wife-beaters and everything else. Many great baseball players were pretty terrible people because many people are pretty terrible people.

I mean, holy hell, if we’re making character judgments based on guilty-until-proven-innocent speculation, Roberto Alomar — who likely will be elected to the Hall of Fame — has been sued by two different women for knowingly exposing them to AIDS. Alomar should be a Hall of Famer, and I don’t know that he actually has AIDS or actually did anything wrong. But he’s basically been accused twice of attempted murder.

And people aren’t voting for Jeff Bagwell because they think he might have done steroids even though there’s no concrete evidence to suggest it.

None of Bonds, Clemens, Piazza and Bagwell were ever punished by Major League Baseball for doing whatever they did, if they did anything. It’s ridiculous to try to punish them now. The Hall of Fame should just eliminate the character clause from the voting criteria and focus on honoring the best players.