Your Portland Beavers 3, Salt Lake City 2
Inning One: Un Peu de Chagrin
I don’t know if the Reader has ever had occasion to crack open one of the big Greek tragedies by Aeschylus or Sophocles or Euripides, but if ye have, then ye will probably remember how, once an act or so, some sad sack or another, finding himself vigorously dissatisfied by a turn of events, will air his frustrations not by putting his first through some dry wall — as is the custom of the North American male — but instead by tearing wildly at his clothes, running around the whole place in little else but his Compleanno Suit, and, finally, as a sort of denoument, shaking his fist heavenward in case the gods hadn’t caught on to his, the injured party’s, grievances.
Of course, the gods could really give a frig about the injured party’s opinion, and this is sort of the point: bad stuff is gonna happen and the quicker you accept that fact, the better off you’ll be. Which doesn’t mean that we should actively puruse that which will cause suffering — obviously, that’s dumb — but rather that we should remain Stoic* in the face of less than ideal circumstance.
Well, what I noticed about my most recent post — in re my discussion of PGE Park and its occasionally paltry attendance — is that I maybe got a little Greek on everybody. Not Greek in the sense that I mistook the Reader for a little boy and asked if I might “philosophize all over him,” but rather in that I was maybe railing a little excessively against something that probably won’t change for the time being. That sort of behavior is the province of sorry sports exclusively, and regardless of what other kind of sport I might be, I’m definitely not a sorry one. So here’s me, Carson Cistulli, sucking it up a little, is what I’m saying.
*Hey, there’s a name for it.
Inning Two: Un Peu de Chagrin, Redux
I’m sure the Reader is all-too familiar with the corpus of early 20th century American theologian Harry Emerson Fosdick, so I won’t go into any great detail about his life and/or works. What I will say is that I’ve recently come across his book The Meaning of Prayer
Epictetus was a non-Christian philosopher and yet listen to him: “When thou hast shut thy door and darkened thy room, say not to thyself that thou art alone. God is in thy room.”
That’s a few more -th-’s than may suit the Modern Reader — and far more, for sure, than appear in Dobbin’s eminently readable translation of Epictetus available from Penguin Classics. Still, I don’t think it’ll hurt anyone to let these words rush over him/her like a clear mountain stream.
And, back to the point, if Epictetus has a lesson for a certain Ecstatic Truth Sportswriter at a certain Triple-A baseball stadium, it’s this: regardless of how many people are there, it’s still baseball, and you’re still allowed to write about it and eat free, cheddar-covered food at the same time. Complain at your own risk!
Inning Three: Totally Subjective PITCHf/x Report
Very quickly, PITCHf/x (and the data it produces) has become an invaluable tool for baseballing nerdbones who requirest a little lower layer of pitching analysis. It can help said nerdbones determine whether a pitcher’s particularly excellent or particularly ugly outings are a result of bad luck or an actual, now very measurable change in velocity or movement on said pitcher’s offerings. A recent article by Fangraph’s Dave Cameron — called ”Scott Kazmir is Busted” — is representative of the sort of analysis that a) is possible now, and b) was not possible, like, 500 days ago.
Well, on account of Actual Major Leaguer John Lackey’s rehab start today, I thought it might be interesting to give Portland Sportsman readers an exclusive look at Lackey’s PITCHf/x info on this, his second rehab start at the Triple-A level. Only problem is, I, Carson Cistulli, am decidedly sans any of the “technology” required to produce the requisite “data.” I was pretty upset when I realized this, but then I says to myself, I says, “Hey, how’s about you just — instead of using “numbers” — you just give adjectives that would, at the very least, give the Reader some sense of what Lackey’s pitches were doing?”
Well, needless to say, I says back to myself, I says, “You’re a real smart guy, Cistulli.” And so it’s with that I present the Totally Subjective PITCHf/x Report, using adjectives in place of numbers and written in order of Type of Pitch: Velocity / Horizontal Movement / Vertical Movement:
Fastball: Competent / Wily / Standard
Slidepiece: Sound / Thought-Provoking / Special
Curvepiece: Dignified / Not Applicable / Demoralizing
Changepiece: Different / Intriguing / TBA
Inning Four: Actual Information about John Lackey and Kyle Blanks
Despite being too cowardly still to talk with any actual “baseball players,” I did manage this afternoon both to briefly harass and record for posterity the opinions of some scouts here at the Park. For the purposes of journalistic integrity (and also because I didn’t ask for them) I won’t reveal my sources’ names, so let’s just call them The Nice, Mustachioed One; The Younger One; and The One Who Hated Me. What follows is actual dialgoue with actual scouts, no joke.
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: John Lackey’s throwing around 91, 92. Is that normal for him?
THE NICE, MUSTACHIOED ONE: He’s actually throwing a little harder than I expected, seeing as it’s rehab. But, to answer your question, he’ll usually top out around 94 or 95 when he’s going good.
THE ONE WHO HATED ME: [Grunt of supreme displeasure]
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: What about that slider he struck out Blanks on? Is that what it looks like when he’s right?
THE NICE, MUSTACHIOED ONE: He throws a good slider, but Lackey’s real skill is his placement with the fastball. That’s what separates a major leaguer from minor leaguer.
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: Does he typically only throw those two pitches, the fastball and slider?
THE YOUNGER ONE: Against a left-handed batter he’ll use a changeup sometimes.
THE ONE WHO HATED ME: You’re ruining my life.
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: Is that slider the pitch Blanks needs to hit to be successful in the majors?
THE NICE, MUSTACHIOED ONE: [Smiles pleasantly] It’s one of’em.
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: Whaddya think of Blanks in left field?
THE NICE, MUSTACHIOED ONE: It’s worth a try, but you don’t usually see six feet, six inches, 280 pounds in left field.
THE ONE WHO HATED ME: You are so dumb, I can’t believe it.
PORTLAND SPORTSMAN: Thanks, Real Scouts.
Inning Five: Kyle Blanks Watch!
Kyle Blanks is one mother of a baseball player.*
In 4 PA Saturday night, Blanks went 0 for 4 with 2 K.
In 4 PA Sunday afternoon, he went 1 for 4 with a 1B and 2 K.
His line entering tonight’s game was: 292/395/538 (AVG/OBP/SLG) with 7 HR, 15 BB, and 29 K in 124 PA.
It should be noted that, as mentioned briefly in Inning Four of the present Report, Blanks played the first seven innings of today’s game in left field. The experiment was announced by San Diego’s Union-Tribune earlier today and represents, says Rotoworld, an attempt on the part of the Padres to move Chase Headley back to third base (his natural position) and move Kevin Kouzmanoff to someplace where he won’t make as many outs — like the bench.
Only one ball was hit to Blanks today — a Freddy Sandoval fly in the top of the sixth inning — and he handled it without incident, although one fly ball does not a sample size make.
It should also be noted that Kyle Blanks did not seem happy at all to be facing John Lackey. His two strikeouts against Lackey — swinging on a nasty slidepiece in this first, looking on a nasty curvepiece in the third — are what I’ll refer to as my “supporting details.”
*Hint: topical — and hilarious!
Inning Six: Mark Bellhorn Watch!
In which the author problematizes “hero worship.”
Despite the almost consensus view that he’s a fringe player at best, Mark Bellhorn — owing partly to his not insubstantial contribution to the Red Sox’ 2004 World Championship season, and owing even moreso to his status as an honest-to-goodness three-true-outcome-ing middle infielder — has been and remains one of my favorite baseballers of all time.
While Bellhorn has spent little-to-no time on major league rosters as of late, it came to my attention via Rocket Rob Morse’s infallible Game Day Notes that Bellhorn is still creeping around pro baseball stadia and still, as of Thursday, May 7th, at least, jacking dongers. Even in its infant stages, Bellhorn’s season line is eminently Bellhornian: 167/231/417 with 1 HR, 1 BB, and 4 K in 13 PA for the Colorado Springs Sky Sox, Triple-A affiliate of the Colorado Rockies.
And even though I know how very far apart we — i.e. me and Bellhorn — how far apart we are, it helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star.
Inning Seven: The Stretch, with Rocket Rob Morse
Increasingly Famous Beavers Media Relations Intern — and semi-regular correspondent to the Report — Rocket Rob Morse returned from his brief hiatus as a dedicated employee to update me on another couple fantasy team names. They are:
Cabrera-pparent (after Detroit mashaholic Miguel Cabrera)
and
Gone with the Lind (after Adam Lind of the Toronto BJs)
One player who had the Rocket semi-stumped is Arizona’s Justin Upton. Up, Upton Away was Rocket’s best offer, although he was clearly dissatisfied with that submission. I suggested Upton-ogood or Upton-othing as possible iterations, but the Rocket was too wrought with emotion to reply audibly.
Inning Eight: Completely Idle Fantasy Baseball Discussion
This space was set to be a little sleepy this afternoon, on account of The Old Americans of the Sneeze League weren’t doing much in the way of wheeling and/or dealing these past few days. Was supposed to be sleepy, that is, until — even as I wrote some of the words you’ve probably just read — Sneeze League team RegLarDef* accepted a pretty substantial trade that I’d proposed earlier in the week. The trade broke down as follows:
The Old Americans receive:
Derek Jeter
Brandon Phillips
Randy Johnson
RegLarDef receives:
Justin Morneau
Edgar Renteria
Brian Roberts
James Shields
I proposed the trade — and I mention this because I understand you’re dying to know — I proposed it on account of Jeter, Phillips, and Johnson are all underperforming their peripherals. Jeter and Phillips are -.073 and -.101, respectively, in OPS-PrOPS and Johnson boasts a 4.11 xFIP (defined here) versus an inflated ERA of 5.68.
Without going into any great detail about their respective numbers, suffice it to say that much the opposite was true of the players I traded away.
And also, I was embarrassed to have Renteria on my team.
*Meaning unknown.
Inning Nine: Game Summary
Sono stanco de scrivere. Aiuto me! Aiuto me!
That’s Italian for “Good night and good luck.”
Er, maybe.
Oh, also there was a baseball game.
