Monthly Archives: February 2010

Cliff is keeping busy over at SI.com. Here is his latest: How much of an improvement will big new additions be?

Let’s cut to the chase:

Javier Vazquez, SP, Yankees

Vazquez was one of the best starters in the National League last year, while the Yankee fifth starters whom he’ll be replacing (Chien-Ming Wang, Phil Hughes, Sergio Mitre, Chad Gaudin, and Alfredo Aceves) combined to post a 6.92 ERA over 32 starts while throwing just 147 innings. Vazquez is unlikely to repeat his career-best 2009 season (2.97 ERA, 238 K’s, 7.4 SNLVAR) and will suffer some from returning to the tougher league, but he’s replacing a combined performance that was a half-run below replacement according to SNLVAR. That makes him pure upgrade, and one which looks even better when you factor in the middle-relief innings he’ll also be replacing (Vazquez averaged 216 IP over the last decade).

Estimated upgrade: 4+ wins

…

Curtis Granderson, CF/LF, Yankees

Whether Granderson winds up playing center or left for the Yankees, he’ll be replacing Johnny Damon’s total at-bats while some combination of Brett Gardner and Randy Winn will replace Melky Cabrera at the other spot. Offensively, Damon was worth four wins over replacement last year according to VORP, which is the same level of production Granderson provided for the Tigers in 2008, but in 2009, Granderson fell off to 2.5 wins. He’ll have to rebound to close the gap, which is smaller than it first appears due to the fact that Damon cost the Yankees a win in the field last year, dropping his total value to three wins over replacement. Granderson’s defense is a matter of some dispute. UZR had him as close to a win and a half above replacement in center in 2006 and 2007, nearly a win below replacement in 2008, and roughly average in 2009. The Yankees should expect average defense from him in center and perhaps better than that in left, which means that, even before factoring in a rebound at the plate (some of which will be due to his escaping the lefty-killing Comerica Park), he would be at least as valuable as Damon in left field and could likely hold the line in center as well. While that may not sound like much for 2010, it’s worth noting that Granderson is seven years Damon’s junior and signed to a reasonable contract for the next four years.

Estimated upgrade: Even

There was a long feature on Martin Scorsese, who has a new thriller/horror movie coming out, in the Times last weekend:

It’s hard not to suspect, as you listen to him discoursing with a certain relish about the technical problems of the film and the rigors of shooting in a mental hospital — “It’s not a good feeling, being there every day” — that he has come to a point in his career where he actually thrives on difficulty, almost can’t do without it. Mr. DiCaprio described the process of working out the nuances of Teddy’s character as “pretty intense, because I didn’t really understand how emotionally complex this character is until Marty and I started breaking down this cathartic journey he goes on.” He paused and added: “When you’re working with someone like Martin Scorsese, you know you’re going to have to go places emotionally that you didn’t ever foresee.”

For Mr. Scorsese that’s entertainment. Some filmmakers as they grow older begin to pare down their styles, to produce mellow, autumnal works that attempt to express with serene simplicity the accrued wisdom of their lives. Does that sound like Martin Scorsese? His movies have always been fueled by nervous energy and huge uprushes of adrenaline, and it’s nearly impossible to imagine him doing without some kind of emotional turbulence, even if he has to induce it by sheer force of will.

I love to hear Scorsese talk–he’s a great New Yorker. And for a long time he was my favorite filmmaker. But I haven’t enjoyed the movies he’s made since Good Fellas. I appreciate that he’s still busy making movies, even if they don’t speak to me anymore. He’s an Institution now, I get it, and that’s cool, but I find that he’s become such a polished stylist that his technique gets in the way of the storytelling. He’s got technique for days, and he is a master, but his stories just don’t speak to me anymore.

Have you seen the preview for his latest? We’re in Cape Fear territory. I wonder if he’ll ever make an interesting movie again. John Huston kept making good movies for a long time, so I haven’t given up hope. Then again, I’m not holding my breath.

I was in elementary school during the last, sad years of my parents’ marriage. We had moved out of New York City to Westchester and lived on a street that was more country than suburban. I had a friend named Kevin who lived up the road in a big, dilapidated house. He kept a water-logged copy of Hustler under the front porch–my first glimpse of pornography. Next to the house was an enormous barn. They had horses and Kevin’s mother and his sisters gave riding lessons in a big rink next to the house. The father had recently died.

I remember being inside that house wondering, What happened? Kevin’s mother was polite, looked respectable, and went to work in the City. But the house was a mess. It smelled of cat urine. There were cats everywehre. It was cold in winter and the floors were covered with newspapers soaked with cat urine and covered with cat shit. I navigated the upstairs corridors in fear, quickly moving to Kevin’s room, which had a small TV where we once watched ABC’s Monday Night Baseball.

It was as if after Kevin’s father died, everything fell apart. At least that’s how I imaged it as I lived in dread that my parent’s marriage would not last.

There were only two smells that cut through the stench. One was the sweet smell of shampoo in Kevin’s sister’s feathered hair. It could have been perfume too. They listened to rock records, wore tight jeans and seemed so grown up. All they had to do is pass by and the air was cut by a rush of their wonderful and mysterious femininity. The other came from the kitchen. It was a cold room too and the fridge always seemed bare. There, Kevin would toast a few slices of white bread, spread them evenly with butter and then shake equal parts cinnamon and sugar on top of them.

His cinnamon toast was reminder that even when life is filled with disappointment, and seems to be caving in around you, when there is no money for indulgences, there can be something simple and satisfying that keeps you going.

What does Justin Verlander’s recent deal mean for Tim Lincecum?

Our man Cliff takes a look over at SI.com:

The Giants had hoped to sign Lincecum to a puny two-year deal in lieu of an arbitration hearing. He has requested $13 million 2010 salary, an amount that would be a record for a player in his first arbitration year. The Giants have countered with an $8 million offer. Compare that to the $9.5 and $6.9 million figures submitted by Verlander and the Tigers this winter prior to the signing of his contract. Then remember that Verlander was entering his second arbitration year, while Lincecum is entering his first. In 2009, the first arbitration year for both pitchers, Verlander and Hernandez earned $3.675 and $3.8 million, respectively, amounts less than half of the Giants’ low-ball offer to Lincecum. Weighing all of that makes it clear that the newly established market for arb-eligible aces has exploded Lincecum’s value well beyond even Verlander’s new deal.

Prior to Verlander’s contract, the Giants could have argued that Hernandez’s contract was an outgrowth of his unusual combination of youth (he reached the bigs at 19, won’t be 24 until April and his contract will expire before his 29th birthday) and experience (he’s already pitched five seasons in the majors). By comparison, Verlander and Lincecum both attended college and were rookies at age 23, the age Hernandez was this past season. But with the 26-year-old Verlander now signed to a more expensive contract that will take him through his age-31 season, the Giants no longer have that weak leg to stand on in negotiations with Lincecum.

From the master—Matisse. One of the paper-cut collages from late in his career.

Marcus Thames is best known in the Bronx for hitting a home run in his first big league at bat against Randy Johnson. According to reports (Sherman, Heyman) Thames has signed a minor league deal to return to the Yanks.

So I had a theme for the Beat of the Day all lined-up and ready to roll but then the Saints won the Big Game last night so I took a left turn at Albeturkey. Thanks to some mighty cool recommendations from my pal John Schulian, who knows about these things, kick back to a week of sounds from the Big Easy:

Several years back, the good people at Cook’s Illustrated rated Hunt’s ketchup above Heinz ketchup. That just sounds wrong, downright un-American!, which goes to show the power of tradition and advertising. Maybe I’ll do a taste-test one day and prefer Hunts. But for me, there are few things as reassuring–especially when you are at a restaurant–as ol’ reliable:

Last week, a good friend introduced me to the work of Norman McLaren, an innovative Scottish animator who spent most of his career in Canada. Lucky me. After watching a few of McLaren’s short movies I thought, Where has this guy been all my life? Or, Where have I been?

McLaren was a man ahead of his time–he created sounds by painting on the actual film–and made trippy–not to mention sophisticated–material in the Thirties and Forties.

I have only viewed a small sampling of his stuff but dig this here and see if it doesn’t leave you say, “Huh, well, I’ll be…”

(The picture quality isn’t the greatest–it is like looking at a reproduction of a painting in an art book. My pal has a McLaren box set, and it’s worth getting if you are into this sort of thing.)

Today’s update is powered by the almighty Nawlins staple, the po’boy:

• MLB.com examines the versatility of the Yankees’ outfielders.
• Might a former Yankee prospect (since traded) be older than advertised?:

His birth certificate and passport say outfielder Jose Tabata was born Aug. 12, 1988, in Anzoategui, Venezuela. Yet, during a recent radio interview, general manager Neal Huntington admitted there are “a lot of rumblings” that Tabata might actually be in his mid-20s.

In Latin America, record-keeping can be spotty, especially when it comes to youngsters with excellent baseball skills. The New York Yankees investigated Tabata’s background in 2005 and, satisfied he truly was 16, signed him as an undrafted free agent.

The Pirates are not publicly disputing Tabata’s age, and yet …

“All of the documentation he has used to obtain his visa from the U.S. government and his passport from the Venezuelan government indicates his reported age is accurate,” Huntington said in an e-mail to the Tribune-Review. “Apart from unfounded speculation, there is nothing to indicate his age any different than reported. My point is that while we have reason to doubt his reported age, it is a non-issue to us.”

• Joba speaks:

Q: How much of a relief is it to you that the “Joba Rules,” which limited your innings, are now a thing of the past?

JC: It means I’m growing up. As a competitor, I definitely got frustrated at times. But at the end of the day, I also understood why they were doing it. And I have the utmost respect for them taking that time and going through the good and the bad with me. Now we’ve done it. We’re better for it. We all learned how to handle the situation, and now I can just go out and play the game and get 200-plus innings in.

• Chase Wright (he of the four consecutive homers allowed in one inning) turns 27 today.
• Fritz Peterson turns 68 today.

Back on Thursday.

The Saints kept Peyton Manning off the field in the second quarter and forced one huge interception with the Colts driving, looking to tie, in the fourth. It was enough to win an exciting game–Drew Brees was terrific–and the Saints are the Champs.

Final Score: 31-17.

New Orleans is a-jumpin’. Good for them.

I heard a few years ago…

that the day before the Stupor Bowl…

is the biggest grocery shopping day of the year.

Whatever you are eatin, hope it am be finger-licking good.

Prediction: I’m in a food coma by the Half. And the Saints win the game.

It is sunny but cold in New York.

Tonight gives The Big Game. I’m rooting for Peyton and the Colts but will be hard-pressed to be upset should the Saints win. What a cool turn of events that’d be for a traditionally losing franchise, not to mention a city that has seen more than its fair share of hard times.

So? What do you do for the Stupit Bowl? Go to a party? Throw a party? Stay at home and make a feast? Which one of these?

Here’s a classic bit of Preston Sturges to keep you warm and smiling on another cold winter night in New York:

The latest from Klap:

“I think Brian [Cashman] has learned a lot about running a team,” said one rival executive. “He’s made some mistakes, but if you go around and ask people what they think of the Yankees, the answer you’ll get is that they’re intelligently run.”

Money+smarts=Heppy Kets.

I have always embraced the idea of collage, taking existing objects and turning them into something new. Which is why I was never offended about the concept of sampling in Rap music. (“It’s like the old flip books you had as a kid,” an engineer friend was telling me recently, “Oh, here’s a fireman’s hat with a tuxedo and clown shoes, all mashed-up, cool!”) Layering of old records together in Hip Hop is a musical extention of what I loved so much about Joseph Cornell, Kurt Schwitters and Robert Rauschenberg.

Which is not to say that I like all collage or sampled-based music. But I dig the spirit of reinterpretation.

On that note, dig this, a 3-D exploration of Picasso’s seminal painting, Guernica:

LL? Special Ed? How best to end a week of Young Emcees?

How ’bout them both?

I never get tired of this one (never could do the running man):

Near the end of Manhattan, Woody Allen lies on a couch and talks into a tape recorder:

Well, all right, why is life worth living? That’s a very good question. Well, there are certain things, I guess, that make it worthwhile.  Like what? OK… for me…Ooh, I would say Groucho Marx, to name one thing. And Willie Mays.And… the second movement of the Jupiter Symphony. And… Louis Armstrong’s recording of Potato Head Blues. Swedish movies, naturally. Sentimental Education by Flaubert. Marlon Brando, Frank Sinatra. Those incredible apples and pears by Cezanne. The crabs at Sam Wo’s. Tracy’s face.

I’ve never sat down and come up with a list myself but last night a friend of mine showed me the folloing Laurel and Hardy clip. Now, I’ve never been enamoured with Laurel and Hardy in the same way I am with Buster Keaton or the Marx Brothers, but this scene brightened my week and reminded me of some things really do make life worth living.

The Super Bowl will have come and gone and in less than two weeks, spring training will begin.

The Yanks are still the champs and this year brings the tension of a possible repeat. Winning consecutive championships is one of the hardest things to accomplish in team sports. Be interesting to see how they react. 

There is no reason not to think that this is gunna be another exciting year…

The spring crop of baseball books is just around the corner and I’m especially eager to read Howard Bryant’s biography of Hank Aaron. Closer to home, there are two baseballish memoirs of interest, The Cardboard Gods: An All-American Tale Told through Baseball Cards, by former Toaster pal, Josh Wilker, and 90% of the Game Is Half Mental: And Other Tales from the Edge of Baseball Fandom, by our own Emma Span. In a baseball round-up from Library Journal, the word is such on Emma’s book:

A warm and funny memoir (casual swearing included) by freelance writer Span, consisting of separate essay-chapters relating to her own experience of baseball, from her father’s nurture over scorecards, through her time (2006–07) as sportswriter for the Voice, to observations of what the game brings out in all of us around this country and beyond—players, writers, and fans included. This will be especially enjoyed by Span’s twenty-something peers who follow the Mets or Yankees. She has a refreshingly unassuming and appealing voice.

Josh and Emma are not only friends but I think they are two of the most interesting and engaging writers to emerge from the baseball blogosphere. I’m so excited for them both and I hope that their books get the attention and praise they deserve. This is just the first you’ve heard about both projects in this space.

Ya Hoid?

[Photo Credit: ckaroli]