Alex Cora would like to shut me up

I’ve promised no more Alex Cora criticism until Opening Day, but I didn’t say I wouldn’t offer up this space if Alex Cora responded to criticism.

In this LoHud.com report, he does. And to his credit, for a guy reputed as an old-school, hard-nosed grit machine, he doesn’t entirely dismiss the “statistical analysis”:

“People are talking about age and that I’ve slowed down defensively,” Cora said. “There is some statistical analysis out there that says I am losing my range. I will just try to work on a few things, but if that’s something I can improve, I will just keep working on it.

“Let’s put it this way: I have been in the big leagues for 12 years and it’s not because I hit .300.”

Items of note

Mark Himmelstein proposes a compromise on the Jenrry Mejia situation. The problem: Who expects the Mets to follow through on any well-thought-out plan?

I’m going to watch the crap out of two forthcoming TV events: Life and Treme. Based on previous works by their creators, you probably should too.

You know what? I didn’t want to pay any attention to that jerk NCAA tournament for jerks anymore anyway. Jerks. Bah.

The NBA rulebook clearly states that a player may not progress the ball by sliding into parallel dimensions.

From the Wikipedia: The Great Auk

I like nature as much as the next guy, but I’m not generally one to get all broken up about extinct animals because, you know, survival of the fittest and all. But I do always wonder what those extinct animals would have tasted like.

Great Auk Painting.previewThe subject of today’s From the Wikipedia was almost certainly delicious. In fact, it was partly our ancestors’ ravenous consumption of the species that led to its demise, because our forefathers lacked the foresight to leave even a few of them behind for us to breed and subsequently barbecue.

From the Wikipedia: The Great Auk.

The Great Auk was a species of flightless bird that lived on islands off eastern Canada, Greenland, Iceland, Norway, Ireland, and Great Britain up until the 19th century. It stood about 30-33 inches high and vaguely resembled a penguin. Under its down, it had a thick layer of fat, which served the dual purpose of protecting it from the cold Northern air and preventing its meat from drying up when cooked over an open fire.

Besides its deliciousness, the Great Auk’s most notable characteristic, by far, was its naivete. For some stupid reason, it was not afraid of humans, even though it clearly should have been.

In fact, on a 1622 expedition to Funk Island — which is not nearly as awesome a place as it sounds — a British crew was able to drive the succulent poultry right up the gangplanks and onto their boat. Sir Richard Whitbourne described it, “as if God had made the innocency of so poore a creature to become such an admirable instrument for the sustenation of man.

But man, being man, was obviously not an admirable instrument for the sustenation of so poore a creature.

Hint to animals: Fear humans or figure out how to make humans fear you. Otherwise, you’ll endure species-wide humiliations like the ones that eventually spelled the demise of the Great Auk.

As long ago as 2000 B.C., someone was buried in Newfoundland wearing a coat made of 200 Great Auk skins with the heads left on for decoration. The Great Auk jacket was the O.G. mink coat.

The Beothuk people of Newfoundland made pudding out of Great Auk eggs. (It should be noted, here, that the last surviving Beothuk died about 15 years before the last Great Auk, so the Great Auk had the last laugh in that storied rivalry.)

But more than anything, it is the treatment of the last few Great Auks that underscores humanity’s lack thereof.

By the turn of the 19th century, after centuries of being hunted for its meat, eggs and down feathers, the Great Auk was nearly extinct, and in 1794 it became illegal to kill Great Auks in England.

That didn’t stop the 75-year-old Scotsman who caught the last Great Auk ever seen in the British Isles, though. He tied the bird up for three days then beat it to death with a stick. Why? Because he thought it was a witch, obviously.

The last remaining colony of about 50 Great Auks lived on an island inaccessible to humans until 1830, when the island submerged and they were forced to move to another island that was barely accessible to humans.

Just accessible enough, it turned out, for preservationists — I kid you not — to kill the remaining birds for displaying their skins and eggs in museums.

In July, 1844, the last pair of Great Auks sat incubating an egg, still somehow not fearing humans even though humans had killed all the other Great Auks. Three humans approached and the two Great Auks just sat there on the egg, so two of the humans strangled the Great Auks while the third smashed their egg with his boot.

That was all for the Great Auk.

Funny card found on disgusting desk

My desk is a mess, as you can sort of tell from the picture in the header (you can’t see the other side, which is worse). I’m using “cleaning my desk” as an excuse to watch some NCAA Tournament action today.

At some point while working here, I acquired a pack of 2008 Topps Heritage cards, probably the first pack of baseball cards I’ve opened in 15 years. They’re all turning up as I clean, and I just uncovered this one:

It’s from a series called “Words of Wisdom,” which I guess highlights great advice given from managers to their players.

The back reads:

When the Mets made a trade in the winter of 2006 with the Orioles to get John Maine — then a little-known prospect — many fans barely noticed. They notice the young right-hander now, as he’s quickly matured into a top-of-the rotation mainstay. His rapid development can be credited, in part, to deft handling by manager Willie Randolph. In Maine’s 1st season, Randolph brought him along carefully, rarely allowing him to work deep into games. By the end of the year, John was prepared for pressure, and he responded with a 2.63 ERA in 3 postseason starts. In 2007, he tied for the team lead with 15 wins, once carrying a no-hitter through 6 innings and another time losing a “no-no” with 2 outs in the 8th.

Oh, pre-2008 John Maine: top-of-the rotation mainstay. Oh, pre-2008 Willie Randolph: deft handler of pitching staffs.

Why the common comps for Jenrry Mejia are not good comps for Jenrry Mejia

I fixate. Anyone who has been reading my writing long enough to remember my unending Val Pascucci campaign in 2008 knows that.

These days, I’m fixated on the idea that Jenrry Mejia should open the season starting games in the Minor Leagues, or, now, stretching out to start games in the Minor Leagues, and not in the Major League bullpen. See here, here and here for details.

I realize that obsessing like this is stupid; by now, Mets fans have all likely made up their minds one way or the other about where they feel Mejia should be pitching in April, and continuing to beat the drum only opens me up for criticism in the event that he does start the season in the Major League bullpen and manage a successful conversion to the rotation down the road.

And I know the Mets haven’t actually put him in the bullpen yet. So it’s pointless to get too upset, since all using him in relief in Spring Training could end up amounting to is a little more time getting Mejia stretched out in April — ultimately keeping his innings total down — plus some needless screwing around with him and a whole lot of wasted words.

But whatever. I persist.

Anyway, plenty of people who are understandably excited about the possibility of Mejia breaking camp with the big club have countered arguments like the ones I’ve made by comparing him to other pitchers who debuted in the Majors as young as Mejia or successfully made the conversion from a bullpen role to the rotation.

But the following pitchers are not like Jenrry Mejia:

Dwight Gooden: Gooden comes up a lot because Gooden also wowed Mets coaches in Spring Training at a very young age despite no Triple-A experience and wound up on the Major League club in 1984. And Gooden went on to win the Rookie of the Year that year and then the Cy Young Award the following year, when he put on one of the most dominant season-long pitching performances in Major League history at the tender age of 20.

But Gooden is not like Jenrry Mejia because Gooden came with a wildly different Minor League pedigree. Look at what Gooden did in 1983. 191 innings, 300 strikeouts, 112 walks. That’s insane, and an insane amount of pitching for an 18 year old. Or anyone, really. If Mejia had dominated High-A ball to the tune of 14.1 K/9 like Gooden did and was going to be used as a starter in the bigs like Gooden was, then there would be no great reason his age should hold him back.

Of course, there’s a case to be made (that I’m not here to make) that Gooden could have used a little more time pitching under the radar, even if he was physically ready.

Adam Wainwright: Wainwright is a great example of  a pitcher who came through the Minors as a starter, was used as a late-inning reliever in his rookie season, then became a successful starter, as some hope Mejia can.

But Wainwright also is not like Jenrry Mejia. By his rookie season in 2006, Wainwright was 24 and had thrown 784 2/3 innings, including 245 1/3 at Triple-A. In them, he developed enough confidence in his curveball to throw it 25.9% of the time in 2006, including, as we all recall, in some pretty big spots.

By most accounts, Mejia still needs work on his secondary stuff. That type of work is best done in the Minor Leagues, which brings me to the next guy:

Johan Santana: Santana is another pitcher who came up in a relief role and became a successful starter, and since he’s on the Mets, he makes for an easy comparison to Mejia.

But Santana is not like Jenrry Mejia because the Twins were likely only keeping him around in their bullpen in 2000, his rookie year, because he had been a Rule 5 pick, and Santana — hard as this is to believe — sucked that year.

Santana didn’t become the awesome Johan Santana we know and love until 2002, when, surprise, surprise, he went to Triple-A for a stint to refine his changeup. The Twins slowly transitioned him into a starting rotation role over the next two seasons as they eased up his innings total, but he was never a one-inning reliever.

Francisco Liriano: The Twins began Liriano in a relief role in 2006 to give him his first taste of the Majors before moving him into the rotation in late May. And though they were careful with him — Liriano never pitched on back-to-back nights, and usually had two days off between appearances — his stellar rookie season was shortened by an elbow injury that ultimately required Tommy John surgery. He has not been the same since.

So I don’t see why Liriano’s a great example to point to for why the Mets should start Mejia in the bullpen. I don’t think the Twins’ handling of Liriano had anything to do with his injury, but a great pitching prospect who threw a half of a really good season shouldn’t be held up as a success story. The Mets want more than that from Mejia.

Still, Liriano is not like Mejia for a number of reasons. He entered the Majors in 2006 after a full season of starting in the high Minors in 2005, including a dominant 14-start stretch in Triple-A. Plus Liriano had a developed a wide enough arsenal of pitches that he threw under 50% fastballs that year and the highest percentage of sliders (37.6%) of anyone in the Majors with at least 100 innings pitched.

So: In truth, Jenrry Mejia is only like Jenrry Mejia, obviously. It’s fun to cite examples when making arguments, and drawing comparisons to players that have come before is a big part of what talking sports is all about. I get that.

And heck, for all I know, Jenrry Mejia can dominate out of the Mets’ bullpen this year while at the same time perfecting that secondary arsenal, then transition smoothly into the rotation next year to become a frontline starter and serve as a comp for all sorts of future young pitchers to come.

But as far as I’m concerned, it’s hard enough for a prospect to turn into a frontline starter without obstacles to his development, and the Mets would be best served making Mejia’s path to becoming a big-league frontline starter as smooth and effortless as possible.

That means a ticket to Binghamton or Buffalo, where Mejia can stretch out and strengthen his arm, gain valuable experience, and fully develop his entire array of pitches before being thrown to the big-league wolves.

The value he’ll add to the Mets’ 2010 bullpen over whomever he’d replace — be it Kiko Calero or Sean Green or Bobby Parnell — is simply not enough to jeopardize all the value he could add to the Mets’ future starting rotations. And just because there are a few vague examples of guys that have come before him in similar situations and succeeded doesn’t make it worth the risk to the Mets.

Items of note

Two Post columnists take on the Jenrry Mejia debate. Kevin Kernan whiffs wildly, corkscrewing himself into the ground like Tsuyoshi Shinjo used to do. Joel Sherman knocks it out the park.

Speaking of the Post, I’m not sure there’s ever been a higher ratio of (headline hilarity) : (my interest in actually reading the story) than there is with today’s lead story “Sandra Bullock’s hubby in bike-shop ‘wild sex’ romps with ink-stained hellcat.

I’m actually a little distraught that I saw the picture and learned they’re referring to a tattooed woman; I’d prefer to assume he had an affair with an actual feline from hell that was literally stained with ink.

The NFL should absolutely change its overtime rules and it’s crazy that it has taken so long.

Atomic Bacon Bombers appear far less atomic, bacony, explosive than advertised

Did I not tell you that Nancy Luna was good? She tweeted a link to my post from earlier, and now, barely three hours after I implored readers to get me photos of the Atomic Bacon Bombers from Taco Bell, I have them.

The Internet is so f@#$ing awesome. You all realize that, right? I feel like I’m privileged to be part of the last generation of people who will remember life before the Internet blew up, because I can recall a time when I wouldn’t have had any way of even finding out that Taco Bell was testing Atomic Bacon Bombers in Tustin, Calif., no less had photographic evidence of their existence a few hours later. And so now that I can do all that, I so appreciate what I’ve got here at my fingertips: all this wonderful, bacony information.

These come courtesy of Luna’s reader Blake. I hope it’s cool that I’m just yanking them off his posterous blog, which you should check out because Blake is a hero.

Not much to look at. When I hear “atomic” I expect something massive. I guess I shouldn’t, since Atomic Fireballs weren’t all that large and the atomic buffalo wings at the place near my house are just normal wing-sized, but, well, I don’t know.

I guess when I heard “Atomic Bacon Bombers” and “Taco Bell” together, it just sounded to me like the Holy Grail or something, like it would be tremendous and spectacular. Maybe Taco Bell’s answer to the Bacon Explosion, all covered in Lava Sauce and wrapped in a Grilled Stuft Burrito, and with some Crunchy Red Strips thrown in there for good measure.

But seeing the actual Atomic Bacon Bomber there, so tiny in Blake’s fingers, it just looks pitiful. I’m holding out hope that Blake is gigantic — or at least has monstrous hands — and the Atomic Bacon Bombers are at least the size of a normal taco, but it really doesn’t seem likely. And Blake’s review doesn’t help the Atomic Bacon Bombers’ case for awesomeness:

Look like little mini breaded things with bacon bits attached all around. Inside has no bacon but has cheese and little chunks of peppers – maybe jalepenos? Cheesy, spicy, supposed to be full of bacon, but lacking in bacon flavor.

Oh, Taco Bell: You had my hopes so high. Oh, the Internet: How you foster dreams in the afternoon, then crush them in the evening. This is the saddest day for lovers of bacon and Taco Bell since the Bacon Club Chalupa came out and disappointed.

Burying the lede, and a plea for help

Listen: Nancy Luna, who writes the Fast Food Maven blog for the Orange County Register, does a tremendous job. Obviously. She blogs about fast food.

And she appears to be a fan of, or at least fascinated by the Taco Bell Breakfast tests running in certain markets, and she’s one of the few decent journalists out there providing the hungry world with investigative reports on and photos of what Taco Bell is serving up before 11 a.m.

But with all due respect to Ms. Luna, she’s guilty of burying the lede in a recent update on various Taco Bell test items being served at a location in Tustin, Calif.

Check it out. This is 12 paragraphs deep:

Now, about these pastries and snack items. This continues to be an odd Taco Bell experiment.

The double fudge brownie, along with an atomic bacon bomber, are new to the Tustin menu. I tried the brownie, which was lightly dusted with powdered sugar….

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I’m sorry. Back one step. Did you just say “atomic bacon bomber”? Did I read that right?

I did. How is that not the title of this blog post? How is the front page headline of OCRegister.com anything other than “Tustin Taco Bell now serving Atomic Bacon Bomber”?

Atomic Bacon Bomber!

!!?!?!??!?!

I e-mailed Nancy, and she politely explained that she didn’t even notice the item until after she was too full from sampling the new Pacific Shrimp Taco and the Taco Bell test brownie, which is, on its own, pretty fascinating.

I don’t know what the people of Tustin did to deserve a Taco Bell that serves breakfast, lunch, dinner, Fourthmeal, and dessert, but damn, I have to move to Tustin.

Until then, I need your help, TedQuarters readers. My traffic tracker tells me that this blog has been visited from Tustin IP addresses at least a dozen times, not to mention a bunch more from surrounding towns in Southern California.

Who’s going to help me? Someone needs to get out to the Tustin Taco Bell and find out what the Atomic Bacon Bomber is. I’ll need pictures and a full report. Please, it’s for the sake of all humanity.

End of an era

According to Steve Popper’s Twitter, Anderson Hernandez has been claimed on waivers by the Indians.

The timing is a little funny, since the Mets need middle infielders, but Hernandez had no options remaining on his contract (hence being available on waivers) and isn’t very good, so it’s not something to be broken up about.

And I guess I should amend that to say the Mets need decent middle infielders. They have no shortage of crappy middle infielders, although those ranks just thinned by one.

I can’t really continue without it becoming a rant about Alex Cora, and I promised no more of those until Opening Day, so I’ll stop. But I’ll say this: I’m upset that this severely diminishes my opportunities to use the nickname for him forwarded by Dave G in the comments section not too long ago, Anderfail Failnandez.