Old Rivalry, New Blood

Joba Chamberlain and Jacoby Ellsbury are both under 25. They both possess otherworldly talent. They both share a Native American heritage. Unfortunately, one plays for the Yankees and one plays for the Red Sox

fact is, Red Sox versus Yankees jumped the shark in 2005. In 2003, Boston lost the ALCS to New York on a seventh-game, eleventh-inning walk-off home run—the most hyphenated and painful defeat imaginable, right? Wrong: In 2004, the Yankees lost the ALCS to Boston after leading three games to none—the worst choke in sports, ever. Even Stallone would hesitate to write a sequel to that, but the sports media didn't balk, furiously pimping the rivalry until even fans grew tired of their own players. But in 2007, two rookies, both Native American—Red Sox outfielder Jacoby Ellsbury, 24, who's half Navajo, and Yankees pitcher Joba Chamberlain, 22, who's half Winnebago—made the rivalry vibrate again. In his third big-league game, Ellsbury, like some mad figure out of Negro League legend, scored from second base on a wild pitch. In thirty-three games, he'd bat .353; in the World Series, .438. And Chamberlain, who routinely lit up triple digits on the radar gun, didn't allow an earned run in his first twelve games and threw a slider that may be the game's most unhittable pitch. For once we weren't talking about Manny's wandering attention span or A-Rod's roving eye. To watch the two rookies is to be witness to something fresh, thrilling, and especially in Boston and New York, rare: baseball without baggage.

Root for the Boys of March

by Dan Fierman

Spring training is big business now. Here's our argument for why it's even better than the regular season.

1. They ain’t screwing around down there. From the new Legends Field in Tampa to Phoenix’s Municipal Stadium, almost all the spring-training parks are new and nice. They have tiki bars and ocean views. They have fish tacos and sweet lawn seats. And you’ll still never get better baseball for the dough—about twenty bucks a ticket.

2. Florida isn’t your only option anymore. Hell, it’s not even your best option. The humidity, the rain delays, the octogenarian ticket takers doddering behind the turnstiles? No thanks. We’ll take Arizona, where it’s always eighty degrees and always sunny and there are golf courses as far as the eye can see.

3. Tampa finally has more than just world-class strip clubs. It has world-class gambling facilities, too! The Seminole Hard Rock—which used to be a sad bastion of simple slot machines—now has everything short of a sports book, craps, and roulette. Spring baseball and casinos: They go together like a late-career resurgence and a cycle of B12 shots.

4. You’ll never sound smarter at your fantasy draft. It’s the ninth round. You’re sitting on Francisco Liriano. Your buddy five picks ahead is toying with the idea of drafting your guy…and his surgically reconstructed elbow. Now memorize and repeat: “You know, I saw him down in Fort Myers against the Sox. Velocity was down. No tilt on the slider. I’m just sayin’.…”

5. It’s still the ultimate excuse for late-winter debauchery, ’cause somehow “Honey, me and the guys are going down to Florida to go on a five-day bender while you stay home and shovel snow” doesn’t quite have the same ring as “We’re going to spring training.”

Springtime For Hitters
5 Top Spring-Training Destinations

Dodgertown
Vero Beach, Florida

Photograph courtesy of Dodgertown

You have one more chance to catch the Dodgers in the most history-rich park in Florida—hell, the Brooklyn squad played there—before they relocate to Arizona next year.

Hohokam Stadium
Mesa, Arizona

Photograph courtesy of Hohokam Stadium

The stadium is picturesque; the town is more so. Plus, you get to enjoy it all with batshit Cubs fans. The only drawback: Replacement kidneys are easier to come by than tickets.

Legends Field
Tampa
Sure, it’s the Yankees. But the facilities are new and nifty—right down to a mini Monument Park—and it’s impossible to really appreciate the effects of steroids unless you see them up close.

Scottsdale Stadium
Scottsdale

Photograph courtesy of Scottsdale Stadium

Not only is the Giants’ spring-training home now Barry Bonds–free, it’s also a short drive from golf meccas, including the legendary TPC Scottsdale Champions Course.

Tigertown
Lakeland, Florida

Photograph courtesy of Tigertown

The Tigers have played in Lakeland since 1934—and despite some renovations, their park is still the best dump in spring training. Hmmm. Still smells like Hank Greenberg.

The Godfather, Part II

In his first major interview in twenty years, the elusive Hal Steinbrenner talks to GQ about Roger Clemens and steroids, life with his "overbearing" father, and who's really calling the shots at Yankee Stadium

In February 2007, George Steinbrenner’s younger son, Hal, quietly took over the New York Yankees from Steve Swindal, whose marriage to Hal’s sister had come apart. A few weeks later, Hal’s brother Hank joined him. The ascent of the Steinbrenner sons, unrevealed for many months, was the surest possible indication that George—who spoke frequently of “letting the young elephants in the tent” but could never actually bring himself to surrender power—was unwell. “He wouldn’t have given anybody this opportunity,” says Darrell Gwynn, a former business partner.

But who were his sons? Little was known about them. Reportedly, both had done well in business, Hal managing the family’s hotels, Hank its thoroughbred farm. Neither had ever shown much interest in the Yankees, for reasons that were the cause of much speculation. “The father is not an easy man to work for, as we know,” says former baseball commissioner Fay Vincent. “I can’t imagine being George Steinbrenner’s son,” says Gwynn. “Shit, if you didn’t take the trash out, what would happen to you?”

During their first, busy off-season, Hank, 50, emerged as a sort of Sonny Corleone figure, impetuous and impudent, throwing down gauntlets left and right. “He wasn’t that way growing up,” says Yankee ex-COO Leonard Kleinman in surprise. (I’ll be told that at one point in his youth, rather than emulate his father, Hank had sought to distance himself from him, changing the name on his mailbox to read “Hank Stein.”) His outspokenness—on subjects ranging from A-Rod to Joe Torre to a possible trade for ace Johan Santana—led many to assume he was running the team, but behind the scenes the chain of command was a work in progress. “They indicated that now Hank is the baseball person,” a baffled Scott Boras tells me during the first, ill-fated round of A-Rod negotiations, “yet they had me talk with Hal.” The brothers handled major decisions tentatively, offering a controversial contract to Yankee manager Joe Torre only after days of deliberations (Torre would reject it) and angering superstar closer Mariano Rivera by delaying his inevitable re-signing. The absence of an enormous personality to blot out these mistakes made them appear more significant than they perhaps were. Throughout, Hal, 38, remained, like Michael Corleone, in the shadows—subtle, wary of media, a private family man.

So I’m shocked when it’s Hal and not his brother who consents to an exclusive interview with GQ. We meet in Tampa, at the team’s Legends Field spring-training complex, soon after archrival Boston’s second World Series victory in four years. (We’ll speak again in February.) He greets me at the reception desk on the executive floor of the complex, wearing khakis and an open-collared button-down. He’s surprisingly boyish looking. Though we’re nearly the same age, I call him “Mr. Steinbrenner,” and he doesn’t ask me to use his first name. As we sit down in a generically furnished conference room, I wonder why we’re not meeting in his office; turns out it’s adjacent to his father’s.

Hal proves to be cagey and prickly but also affable, modest, and disarming. (“If you’re going to use a photo in this article, let me know, will you?” he says. “As opposed to making me look like a dork. I’m hoping to get a date out of this, man.”) And so we begin what he informs me is his first major interview since his student days at Williams College some twenty years ago.

In the press, adjectives like reclusive, shy, and press-averse are often attached to your name. It’s your brother who’s been the face of the team.
I’m more introverted than extroverted, for sure, but I’m definitely not a recluse. Maybe we should have been a little more talkative at the beginning. I can’t speak for Hank, but for me, I had my hands full. I didn’t have time to sit down like I am with you. I’m glad I’m doing it now. But I’m a pretty private person. I don’t need to be seen; I definitely don’t ever want to be recognized or noticed. My dad is a wonderful promoter: He speaks his mind no matter who’s around. I tend to see myself as a little more political. That’s probably a word I shouldn’t use, ’cause there’s nobody more political than him. He’s good. But I’m a little more subtle, a little more calm. Hank has been talking to the press, and he’s taken a little heat off me.

Was there a distinct moment at which you and Hank took control of the Yankees?
No. I obviously became considerably more involved at a somewhat dramatic pace when Steve, my sister’s ex-husband, left [in February of 2007]. A couple months after that, I think Hank realized I could use some help.

Along with the adjectives I mentioned above, certain verbs have been associated with your name in the press.
Any of them good?

Not so much. Various sources say you “hate” and “avidly disdain” the media.
No truth to that. That was Bill Madden [of the New York Daily News]. Look, first of all, I don’t hate anybody. It’s a useless emotion. It accomplishes nothing. He even said I hate the players, which is certainly not true. We’ve all had issues with the media, okay, but at the same time, I understand, Hank understands, they’re in business just like we’re in business.

Am I comfortable dealing with the media? Probably not as comfortable as Hank is. Definitely not as comfortable as my dad was. Have I had disagreements with them in the past, disagreed with things they’ve written and the reasons they wrote them? Yes, of course. But again, I understand what the deal is.

If you really don’t feel any enmity toward the media, I would actually be surprised. Your family has been tabloid fodder almost since the day your dad bought the team.
Maybe I’m numb to it. Maybe I’m just used to it. Look, I care very much what my family thinks of me, my close friends, but I try not to pay attention to what strangers think of me. You could drive yourself crazy doing that, particularly if you’re reading the New York papers every day, which I tend not to do.

Was it always assumed during your childhood that you or Hank would one day take over the Yankees from your dad?
My dad would say, “Someday this is going to be yours.” “We’re counting on you, we’re counting on Hank.” “I’m not going to want to do this forever.” I don’t know [laughs] if that was true. George was very involved, and he loved it. He wanted us around, he wanted us here, but there was nothing that specific about duties. My background in grad school [Hal earned an MBA in 1994] led me to do certain things, like finance, that weren’t his strong points. Hank always loved the baseball operations and knew the statistics for every player. We each had our strengths. I know he saw that.

You call your father George?
That’s purely an office thing. I guess when you’re right out of college and working in the office, you don’t want to go around saying, [puts on little-boy voice] “Well, Daddy said this. Daddy—” Throughout the course of fifteen years, I think it took on a life of its own here, but certainly not at home.

You don’t call him George to his face?
No, of course not. That would be completely disrespectful.

In 1990, it came out that your dad had hired a gambler to try to smear a Yankee player, Dave Winfield, whom he was feuding with. The commissioner eventually banned your dad from baseball for two and half years. Were you angry at him for his behavior? Did you feel it was defensible?
I don’t remember the specifics, but I can certainly tell you I wasn’t upset with him, no. I make it a real good point not to judge people, and I don’t like judging situations that I haven’t been involved with and don’t know all the specifics about. Quite frankly, I had enough on my plate right then trying to get through college. I certainly felt bad for him. Baseball is his love, and to be out of it for a couple of years was really hard on him.

Just before serving his ban, your father tried to enlist your brother to succeed him. Why didn’t Hank want to take over?
My God, that was seventeen years ago. I’m afraid my long-term memory is not quite that good. We had some good people in place; I know Hank knew that. Maybe he felt he wasn’t completely needed, but I can’t really answer those questions for him. Down the line, somebody will ask him and you can get his take. George is a wonderful leader, and there was no need for me to be involved. I was focusing on my major, psychology, and geology and astronomy.

A decade or so ago, press accounts indicated that you and Hank had no interest in taking over the team. As recently as ’05, your PR guy issued a statement saying that your and your brother’s “interests lie in other areas.” Were you interested in assuming control of the team?
Well, yes and no. My kids are first for me, and I was very concerned about having to be out of town and miss a lot of their life. That was one of the things I took into consideration when I didn’t step up the way people thought I should. There’s no doubt that everybody, including George, felt that Steve [Swindal] would be the one to take over. I can’t speak for George, but that’s my take on it. There’s a lot of talk about everything. We had always had a hotel here in Tampa, and I started getting involved with that. But my office has always been here, and I’m here four or five days a week or more.

Ten years ago, George still was very involved. There were certainly times, because he was a very hands-on guy and very overbearing, that my services may not have been needed. I’m sure Hank felt the same way from time to time. But I think my dad has certainly settled down, and I think he’s willing to let other people make decisions more than he used to. He’s still here every day, and we run everything by him.

You observe that your dad was quite hands-on, could be overbearing—
Is that a big surprise?

I think it’s been reported elsewhere.
Phew! No breaking news here.

Is it true that after the 2003 season, your father, in a fit of pique, wanted to get rid of employee dental benefits? Is it true that you persuaded him not to?
Yes, that’s true. That was a disagreement. Look, there have been plenty of those. I don’t really believe he was ever going to do that, but I can’t get in his head.

Did you minimize your Yankee responsibilities because your dad was difficult to work with?
Like I said, at times I felt like my abilities just weren’t needed. No hard feelings, just weren’t needed. Like I said, he’s a hands-on guy, and he made all the decisions himself. He listened to our input, but he still had the final say. I never got the impression that he was trying to exert control over me, beat me down.

When you learned that a reporter had surprised your father in his own house and interviewed him there, what was your reaction? Did you find it invasive?
Evasive or invasive? It was invasive. I think the way it was done was evasive. I’m not going to get too much into it, but was I upset? Of course I was upset. I mean, so would you be if someone did that to your father. It wasn’t done well. It was just an evasive operation that was uncalled-for. Leave it at that.

Do you find the media’s ongoing attempts to interview your dad as he’s leaving his car to enter the stadium similarly inappropriate?
I don’t find that as inappropriate. That’s just a fact of life.

Why is it that the family has chosen not to make a definitive statement on your dad’s health?
Because it’s a private matter. This is a private corporation. I’m not going to comment about my health, ever. It’s the concern of my family and close friends, and as far as I’m concerned, it ends there.

Wouldn’t it put an end to the media’s intrusions into your family’s affairs if you just said, “Look, this is what’s going on, now leave us alone?”
I could probably flip a coin on that one. No, I’m not convinced. Family matters are family matters. That’s the way I view it, and you bet I’m gonna stick to it. There is no doubt our fans have a right to know what’s going on with our baseball operations’ decision-making, because without them we would not be in business. Do people have a right to know about anything having to do with family, my personal family, my extended family? No. No. And if that creates controversy, well, so be it. You cannot beat me into submission on that. Nobody can.

To what degree was your father involved with the A-Rod and Torre negotiations? To what degree was he involved in the selection of Joe Girardi as the new Yankee manager?
He met with all three [managerial] candidates. He was there for all the Torre things, including the meeting with Joe. He was involved with the initial meetings about A-Rod; he was not there for the meeting with A-Rod and [A-Rod’s wife] Cynthia. But he was involved with every aspect of that meeting and what happened before and what happened after. He’s here every day, and we run things by him all the time. And there’s no doubt in the organization of who still is in charge.

Are the young elephants finally in the tent?
I think we are finally in the tent. I think he’s listening to our wisdom, our intuition, and going with recommendations we have, but it’s not like we’re going to make those decisions without him. It’s not like we feel we could. He is the general managing partner.

So he’s still calling the shots.
Of course he’s calling the shots. You don’t think I’m crazy enough to make a decision without him, do you?

I have to ask this next question.
I’m sure.

On your dad’s rare appearances in public, some people, most famously Reggie Jackson, have said that he doesn’t seem like himself, that he doesn’t recognize them. Is he really able to participate constructively in baseball and business decisions?
I’m not getting into the health of my dad, my mom, anybody else. I’m just not going there.

Your dad had a council of advisers, all of whom were coequal, but he unilaterally set the team’s course. Do you think the team is going to be more hierarchical going forward?
I’m going to sound like a military-school guy, but I’m a big believer in chain of command. Under George, I think a lot of people felt like George was going to make the decision, no matter what, and they just didn’t make many decisions. The direction that we’re moving toward is more along the lines of how I think an efficient corporation should run. It doesn’t mean I’m right, but that’s my take. I don’t want to have to be here twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, analyzing every single piece of information that comes across the desk and feeling like I need to make decisions that other people are perfectly capable of making.

We understand this is New York. We understand winning is expected. We want to win. Even if that wasn’t the case, we would want to win; that’s just the way we are. But I think we’re both more introverted and more analytical. We tend to want to take time to come up with a solution to a problem, as opposed to making a seat-of-the-pants–type decision. And I think that showed in some of these off-season signings. Some people didn’t understand why we took so long to decide this or to decide that, but we want to get it right.

Who’s at the top of the chain of command?
What’s been determined is that this is a family business, and if we’re both gonna be involved, it has to be an equal thing, and we both need to be involved with all major decisions, whether it’s the stadium, big expenditures, or [the unconsummated trade for Johan] Santana, for instance. It’s well publicized in New York that we didn’t agree on that deal. My concerns were economical and financial, and I’m not gonna get into those, but I also had baseball concerns. I didn’t want to get rid of these kids! Boy, the last time we had three young pitchers like Philip Hughes, Joba Chamberlain, and Ian Kennedy, I couldn’t even tell you.

The Super Bowl this year was unbelievable, and the one thought I took away really has a lot to do with us this year, with these three young pitchers. Eli struggled a bit his first couple years. I think New York fans might realize now that if you give a young kid time, great things can happen.

Is it true, as the media has suggested, that Brian Cashman’s job is on the line because the Yankees didn’t do the Santana deal?
No, it’s not. I don’t know where the media gets this stuff sometimes. They gotta sell papers, I understand that. You gotta sell magazines, right? The bottom line is Cashman is with us this year. In any given year for the past thirty years, you could probably say, “This year the general manager’s job’s on the line.” That’s par for the course for that job, but certainly not because of one trade, no.

The perception in the media is that Gene Michael, the architect of the great Yankee teams of the late ’90s, hasn’t wielded a great deal of influence in the organization for some years. Is that true? What will his role be going forward?
As far as I’m concerned, it’s absolutely not true. Cashman and Gene talk all the time. Gene was down here interviewing the potential manager candidates, and he’s always been close to George. The two of them sometimes are kind of like Billy Martin and George, but there was always a level of respect there, and that hasn’t changed. I mean, his take on things is as good as anybody’s. We value his input, which is why he was part of all those interviews.

The Yankees signed Roger Clemens twice to record-setting contracts. Did you ever have any questions about the source of his ability, in his forties, to throw ninety-plus miles an hour?
Not on my end, no. Look at Brett Favre in football. I mean, it’s unbelievable what he’s been able to accomplish. Certain guys work extremely hard in the off-season—and Roger always did that—and are able to play longer than other players. No, none of us—at least I never thought, nor was it even discussed, that steroids was the reason why. You’ll see these guys in different sports throughout the decades, and they’re just a step above the rest, being able to compete at an older age. It’s amazing. That’s just what I accepted it to be.

Do you and your brother feel that the organization needs to address the fact that three players from the ’99 and 2000 World Championship teams were named in the Mitchell Report?
I’m not really gonna comment on that. It’s up to them to comment for themselves. There were a lot of names in the Mitchell Report. You saw it. I didn’t read the report page to page, so I just don’t know what the evidence was or wasn’t, how strong the evidence was or wasn’t, or any of that.

It’s been suggested that you and your brother would sell the team after your dad passed away. Given your uneasiness with public life, are you exploring this option?
No, we’re absolutely not planning on selling the team.

Are you willing to concede that Boston, my favorite team, is the superior organization right now?
No, I will never concede. They’ve got a lot of talent, and you’ve done very well the past few years, but let me put it this way: I don’t think you guys wanted to play us in the ALCS. So I will concede nothing. I think we’re better than you.

nate penn is a gq staff writer.

Photographs: AP; Newscom/Splash.

Manny Being Mommy

Here, courtesy of Ian Bethune's Sox & Dawgs blog, is the tenderest moment we're likely to see in baseball this year. A moment of silence is in order, in recognition of the fact that Manny Ramirez has once again surpassed himself.

The Hall of Could Have Been

Bob Cerv during his brief, glorious Kansas City career

On his routinely excellent blog Soul of Baseball, Joe Posnanski of the Kansas City Star examines the careers of several Major League players who for one reason or another never fulfilled their potential. My favorite is Bob Cerv, of whom Posnanski quotes Bill James as follows: "EVERYTHING went wrong for him. He didn't lose 40 percent of his Hall of Fame luster. He lost 95 percent of it, so people will never believe how good he could have been."

Cerv, a college football star, didn't sign a contract until he graduated at 24, then threw in his lot with the New York Yankees of the 1950s, the baseball dynasty to end all dynasties (during that decade, the team won the World Series six times). Promising through Cerv, an outfielder, might have been, New York's outfield would feature various configurations of Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, and the All-Stars Hank Bauer, Gene Woodling, and Elston Howard. If you had to summarize Cerv's Yankee career in just four words, they would be: We Appreciate Your Interest.

Traded to Kansas City and, in 1958, given 500 at-bats in a season for the first and only time, Cerv, now 32 years old, hit 38 home runs, knocked in 104 RBIs, and batted .305. And then Kansas City traded him back to the Yankees. He'd never be a full-time player again.

You can read about Cerv and numerous other Hall of Fame Not Quites here.

Quadrangular! Quadrangular! Quadrangular! Quadrangular!

On Sunday night, the Red Sox hit back-to-back-to-back-to back home runs against Yankee starter Chase Wright--only the second time a team has ever accomplished this against one pitcher. Here's the play-by-play in Spanish, from ESPN Deportes. Clearly this announcer means to do for the home run what Andres Cantor has done for the soccer goal:

It Gets Old. No, It Doesn't.

The greatest rivalry in professional sports resumes this evening as the New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox play their first series of 2007. Due to a viral outbreak of injury among their starters, the Yankees during the three-game series will feature just one established pitcher, Andy Pettitte, along with two rookies. The Red Sox will feature their top three guys: Schilling, Beckett, and, for the first time against New York, the Japanese phenom Daisuke Matsuzaka.

The fans go bananas for these Yankees-Red Sox series, each of which has the quality of a postseason meeting, even in April, but not so the players--as former Yankee Gary Sheffield told me in an interview that's the basis of a profile appearing in the June GQ.

[With the unbalanced schedule,] you faced the Red Sox 19 times. The feeling I got when I was with the Yankees is that sometimes playing that many times and that big of a game against Boston, sometimes it gets old. People get so excited and emotions run so high, but it's a 162-game season. You want those big games spread out, because it's so emotional. You know, you don't want to be feeling like it's the World Series every single day-- all the requests for tickets, all the people flying in for those games--and then all of a sudden you go play a team, you know, a less-caliber team, and then it's kind of a letdown. Sometimes it gets to be a headache...

Sheffield took pains to be clear here: "It's about the requests, not the game itself; it's about all the other activities. Once the games begin," he says, "it's on again."

My safe prediction: Boston takes two of three. Though if the Red Sox were hitting--they're batting in the .240s, their worst start to a season in more than a decade--I'd go all out and predict a sweep.

Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjack (for About Twelve Bucks)

TMR has released its fourteenth annual Fan Cost Index, which surveys the price of a night at the ballpark/stadium/court/rink for a family of four. Included in the FCI is the following: "two adult average price tickets; two child average price tickets; four small soft drinks; two small beers; four hot dogs; two programs; parking; and two adult-size caps."

The survey results, which can only be called dispiriting--they're an argument for shunning both sunlight and the company of your fellow man--can be found here. To cite one example: the FCI for the New England Patriots, whose ticket prices are by far the NFL's highest, is nearly $500.

You can navigate to surveys from other years and other sports (not just football but also hockey, basketball, and major- and minor-league baseball) by clicking the appropriate links.

Truth in Advertising

After a long off-season of hype, the Japanese pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka, a frequent subject of this blog, yesterday made his major-league debut for the Boston Red Sox. The results--10 strikeouts in 7 innings; one earned run--have sportswriters nationwide saying the "baby-faced ace" is exactly as good as advertised. Across the blogosphere ecstatic Red Sox fans are recalling the 1998 inaugural Boston start of Pedro Martinez, whose statline then is eerily similar to Matsuzaka's yesterday. Of course Matsuzaka's not the pitcher Pedro was, his fastball doesn't move nearly as much, but no one's yet found another pitcher to whom he compares. He's sui generis.

Here, from the Boston Globe, are some numbers that will convey the beauty of Matsuzaka's pitching, before an international audience (the game began after 3 AM in Japan), in his first game as a major leaguer.  Click to enlarge:

The Best Baseball Blog in America

There's a dearth of good baseball analysis in the press today, and a new blog seeks to fill it: Opinionated and outspoken (sometimes to his own detriment), the author of 38 Pitches knows from baseball. He is Curt Schilling, the Red Sox ace, and he apparently suffers from graphomania. His per-day word count is Tolstoyan.

Schilling's blog has already inspired anxiety in certain quarters. Yesterday Boston Globe sportswriter Dan Shaughnessy, a nattering nabob of negativity if there ever was one, wrote a characteristically mean-spirited column about the blog. Sportswriters are middlemen, and Schilling is challenging them: Do better or you'll be cut out.

Schilling's pompous, but he's also pretty intelligent. 38 Pitches is a must-read for baseball fans.

Matt White: Relief Pitcher. Non-Roster Invitee. Billionaire.

Matt White, a 27-year-old lefty reliever who's played a grand total of two non-consecutive seasons in Major League baseball and possesses a career ERA of 16.76, may shortly become one of the richest men in pro sports--richer than Tiger Woods, richer than Michael Jordan, richer, even, than Martha Stewart.

Three years ago, the AP reports, White bought a fifty-acre parcel of land for $50,000 from an elderly aunt in need of fast cash. A surveyor subsequently informed him that the parcel sits on 24 million tons of high-quality, quarryable stone. At $100 per ton, that works out to $2 billion, though the costs involved in mining it would likely reduce its market value to (according to one expert quoted in the piece) "several million dollars, or more."

White has put the property on the block and turned his attention to winning a roster spot with the Los Angeles Dodgers. His chances are not great.

Ichiro and A-Rod

Yesterday at the Mariners' spring-training facility in Arizona Ichiro, who is in the last year of his contract, described how pissed off he is about the team's atrocious performance over the past three years.  That he was dressed in a ski cap and a pink t-shirt in no way diminished the force of his remarks, in which he declared that he's prepared to leave the Mariners to pursue a championship ring, if necessary.

Meanwhile, in Florida, Alex Rodriguez made some interesting comments about his relationship with Derek Jeter--who's essentially become a latter-day DiMaggio, an unsettling amalgam of grace and pettiness--and addressed reporters' questions about the so-called "out clause" in his contract, which allows him to terminate his contract unilaterally after this season, three years early, to explore his value on the free market.

The two men are distinctly different: physically (A-Rod has a perfect baseball body; Ichiro looks nothing like an athlete), statistically (A-Rod hits for power and average and racks up lots of strikeouts and walks; Ichiro hits singles and rarely strikes out or walks), and personally (A-Rod engages with the media; Ichiro distances himself)--but they're both first-ballot Hall of Famers who don't seem to be well situated.  Ichiro plays for a team whose front office may be the worst in baseball, and A-Rod in a town that doesn't--despite his winning an MVP (his second) and accomplishing three of the best five seasons by a Yankee third baseman, ever--properly appreciate him. It's not difficult to imagine them switching places in 2008.

Canard a la Papelbon

In matters culinary I of course defer to the estimable Alan Richman, but this is as much a sports as a food story.  From yesterday's Boston Globe, an interview with Red Sox pitcher Jonathan Papelbon:

Papelbon regaled reporters with tales of duck hunting last month with New York Giants quarterback Eli Manning in Manning's hometown of Drew, Miss.... "What I do," Papelbon said, "[is] marinate [the duck] in Coke and Italian dressing, right. What the Coke does, the carbonation takes out all the game flavor. So you marinate it in Coke and Italian dressing in a Ziploc bag. Then what you do, you slice up a breast, quarter it in fours, and then you wrap those four little nuggets in bacon, jalapeno, and sour cream, so you wrap it all in a piece of bacon, throw it on a grill. It's amazing."

That recipe is so irredeemably, so unapologetically, so elaborately redneck that it verges on genius.  It's almost Wylie Dufresne territory.

The Next Jordan(s)

A recent article in USA Today discusses Michael Jordan's sons Jeffrey (above left) and Marcus, both of whom play high-school basketball for Loyola Academy in Chicago.  Jeffrey is a senior "combo guard" (meaning he plays both point and shooting guard) who's being recruited by a bunch of regional schools. 

What Might Have Been

Colts 29, Bears 17

Pedro's Prognosis:  A Q&A with Dr. Christopher Mazoué

A younger, healthier Pedro Martinez marvels at his own amazing stats

Baseball stat-heads make a convincing case that the Pedro Martinez of 1997-2000 was the greatest pitcher in the game's history.  Against the supercharged offenses of the steroids era, Pedro dominated the way Bob Gibson had during modern-era baseball's weakest offensive phase, the 1960s.

In late 2001, Pedro was diagnosed with a partially torn rotator cuff.  Pitchers in these circumstances typically opt either to undergo surgery or to retire, but Pedro instead remade his delivery.  Formerly an over-the-top power pitcher, he transformed himself into a sidearm finesse pitcher--this to protect his shoulder.  The guy who threw 98 mph would never return, but his replacement, throwing 88 to 93 mph, continued to dominate Major League hitters for almost five more years.

Last October 5th, in pain and barely able to reach the mid 80s, Pedro finally underwent surgery on his torn rotator cuff.  In mid or late summer he will return to the Mets--but as what kind of pitcher?  What is the nature of the injury he suffered, how is it treated, and what is his prognosis?

For answers to these questions, GQ turned to Dr. Christopher Mazoué, a South Carolina-based orthopedic surgeon and a former protégé of the legendary Dr. James Andrews at the renowned American Sports Medicine Institute.

What is the rotator cuff, and what causes it to tear?

The shoulder joint, being a ball-and-socket joint, is inherently unstable.  The rotator cuff is a set of four muscles that surrounds the shoulder joint.  One of its functions is to provide stability.  Its other function is to produce motion of the shoulder.  We're still in the process of determining what exactly causes rotator-cuff tears, but in baseball players the primary cause is the tremendous stress put on the rotator-cuff muscles and the tendons attached to those muscles when they're throwing the baseball.

In a baseball pitcher, what are the symptoms of a rotator-cuff tear?

Classically we've referred to it as "dead-arm syndrome," basically meaning that you begin to lose velocity and lose control when you're pitching.  Pain is the most common symptom, however.  Incidentally, a very large majority of Major League Baseball pitchers have at least a partial tear.  It doesn't necessarily affect their performance.  You can have an asymptomatic pitcher with a partial-thickness rotator-cuff tear.

How is a rotator-cuff tear diagnosed?

An MRI with dye injected into the joint--it's called an MRI arthrogram--is becoming the study of choice to detect rotator-cuff tears.  We see two different types of injury:  partial-thickness tears and full-thickness tears.  Usually we will debride, or clean up, the torn part of the tendon.  And we make a determination on how deeply the rotator cuff is torn and where it's torn.  If its depth is greater than fifty percent, oftentimes we will repair the tendon.  If it's less than fifty percent, we will commonly just clean up the tendon and then treat any other injuries within the shoulder that we find.

How is a rotator-cuff tear repaired?

It's usually an arthroscopic procedure.  We make several small incisions and then place a small camera within the shoulder joint, then stitch together the tear using one of two techniques:  Either we convert a partial-thickness tear into a full-thickness tear, then anchor it in the bone with sutures, or we keep the attachments of the rotator cuff in place and just repair it through the tendon.

It sounds relatively non-invasive.  Why are eight months of rehab required?

Over time, the pitcher has developed significant weakness not only in the rotator cuff but also in the surrounding muscles of the shoulder.  The surgery further worsens that weakness.  So the pitcher needs to allow for the healing of not only the rotator cuff, but also the surrounding soft tissues.  And then we want to reintroduce stresses to the shoulder slowly, over time, to allow the tissues around the shoulder to adapt.

Is there any merit to the claim of many scouts and coaches to the effect that pitchers with smaller frames, like Pedro--who's 5'11" and in his prime weighed less than 170 pounds--are particularly susceptible to injuries like this?

Common sense would suggest that there is a relationship between body size, the ability to throw at a high velocity, and the risk of injury, but there's not much scientific evidence for this.

Many post-operative Tommy John-surgery pitchers return throwing at least as hard as they've ever done, sometimes even harder.  Do we see a similar phenomenon with post-rotator-cuff surgery patients?

Yeah, the interesting thing about that is oftentimes the reason that they're throwing harder after surgery is because prior to surgery they weren't throwing as hard as they could--because they were injured.  Pedro Martinez traditionally throws 93 to 96 mph, but in the last couple years that's dropped down to 88, 90, because his injured rotator cuff wouldn't allow him to generate the forces to throw the ball as hard.  Once he recuperates from this injury, assuming he heals it correctly and he gets his strength back, there's a good chance that he'll regain the strength required to throw 95 mph.

Pedro changed his mechanics after he was first diagnosed with a partial-thickness tear back in late 2001.  To that point he'd thrown over the top; thenceforth he threw sidearm.  In his prime, throwing over the top, he'd regularly touched 97, 98 mph.  Is there a basis for thinking he might be able to reinstate that powerful over-the-top delivery?

He may not want to do that, because that seemingly produced a lot of discomfort in his shoulder.  It will be interesting to find out where he's going to position his shoulder when he returns to pitching.

It's been reported that pitchers who've had rotator-cuff surgery typically return to action after about eight months.  Pedro had his surgery on October 5th, which would suggest he'd be back no sooner than early June.  Is there a chance he might return sooner than that?

Oh, I think eight months is a short period of time.  A non-pitcher can get back sooner than that, but I would say that typically it takes eight months to a year, at least.

So it's possible we may not see Pedro at full strength until 2008?

Yeah, I think if he gets back in August or September, which they're predicting, it might be limited duty.  He may get back to full strength, but it's more likely that he won't have the durability and strength to return to the rotation until 2008.

What sort of durability do we see in guys who've had this surgery?  Will Pedro need to be mindful of this injury through the remainder of his career?

Well, we do know that he has injury already in his shoulder, and the tissues in the shoulder have a certain lifespan.  There's a very good chance that he will have a number of years left, assuming that he does well with his postoperative recovery.  But it's hard to say how many.

The Demon Pitch

Daisuke Matsuzaka's advent into the Major Leagues has precipitated a flood of articles about the gyroball, the mysterious pitch he may, or may not, have mastered. On one side, authorities such as physics prof and baseball fan Alan M. Nathan doubt the pitch's existence, saying that its characteristic football-spiral spin won't produce the trajectory that's claimed for it. (Some say it moves like a screwball, others like an exaggerated slider, still others like a sinker.) On the other, two Japanese engineers have penned a gyroball primer--its title has been translated variously as THE TRUTH ABOUT THE SUPERNATURAL PITCH and THE SECRET OF THE DEMON PITCH--in which they lay out the case for what would be the first new baseball pitch since the split-fingered fastball.

This four-part article, from bigempire.com, stands as the most complete and illuminating look at the gyroball I've yet seen, in no small part because its author speaks Japanese and can interview the key figures in the story. Among other things, he visits a Tokyo training facility, the futuristically named Beta Endorphin, that offers one-on-one gyroball instruction for the equivalent of $104 per hour.

The piece includes a movie, reproduced below, that models the "wake," or airflow, created by a two-seam gyroball. The wake is significant here, the Japanese authors believe, because it strongly resembles a forkball's, with one difference: It's considerably narrower--which is to say, it encounters less air resistance. Their conclusion: When it's thrown just right, the gyroball should sink like a forkball, but travel at a much greater velocity. It does sound like a difficult pitch to hit, if it really exists.

One other thread of interest on this subject: The musings of Kyle Boddy, an ex-college pitcher in Seattle who's trying to learn how to throw the gyroball. Boddy says that the pitch is for real, and he writes lucidly about trying to master it.

The Top Ten Viral Sports Videos of 2006

An idosyncratic, prejudicial, and by no means exclusive list of the best viral sports clips seen during the past year.

10.  Ted Williams promotes an evocatively named Florida real-estate development.  Sample quote:  "Citrus Hills.  Fuck this."

9.  The New Zealand All Blacks rugby team performs its pre-match "haka," a Maori warrior dance meant to cow enemies into submission.  Subtitles and commentary in French, in case you don't speak Maori.

8.  Taurian "Air Up There" Fontenette of the AND1 Tour pulls off what has been billed as the first-ever documented 720-degree dunk.  Naysayers claim, however, that it's actually a 540.  You make the call:

7.  Alexander Ovechkin of the Washington Capitals scores a goal that can only be called--incongruous though this may sound--Jordanesque.

6.  In this high-school-highlight reel, Heisman winner and NFL superstud Reggie Bush goes through opposing defensive lines like a cheese knife through a room-temperature, triple-creme Brie.

5.  A Ten-Best within a Ten-Best:  The finest baseball imbroglios of all time.  No-hitters notwithstanding, Nolan Ryan's finest moments arguably can be found here:

4.  An oddly moving highlight reel in which twelve years of a player's football career, from Pee Wee through high school, have been condensed into a minute of film.  The player is Sean Calcagnie, a high-school star who walked on this year at USC.

3.  A montage of NFL Draft Days featuring Jets fans recoiling in horror year as, year after year, their team passes up future stars like Dan Marino and Warren Sapp in favor of guys you've never heard of.  The groans and cries of "Nooo!" are hilarious.

2.  The bottom of the tenth inning of Game 6 of the 1986 World Series, as recreated on the late-80s Nintendo game RBI Baseball and synched to Vin Scully's play-by-play.

1.  Ron Burgundy auditions for fledgling 24-hour sports network ESPN.

HONORABLE MENTION:  Not a video, but an mp3:  Visiting the mound during the 1977 World Series, Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda bickers affectionately ("Fuck you, Dougie!") with starting pitcher Doug Rau.  To listen, paste this link in your browser:  http://www.dodgerblues.com/images/lasorda-rau.mp3

A New Kind of Moneyball, cont'd

A couple of mediocre outfielders, Carlos Lee (six years, $100 million) and Alfonso Soriano (eight years, $136 million) stand to make more money next year than Pedro Martinez does.  One good outfielder who can't hit (Gary Matthew, Jr.) will be making $55 million over the next five seasons.  Why are teams--which in recent years had reined in spending--suddenly paying players far, far more than they're worth?  Here are five likely reasons:

1.  The success of revenue sharing:  In baseball, trickle-down economics works.  Clubs in smaller markets share the blockbuster receipts of the Yankees, Red Sox, Dodgers, and Mets.

2.  The notion that intelligent overspending might actually make sense:  Omar Minaya made big-money deals with Carlos Beltran, Pedro Martinez, and Carlos Delgado, then nearly took his team to the World Series.  Of course, Pedro, who's injured, may not pitch at all in 2007, or ever again, but ambitious GMs will tend to focus, I believe, on the previous sentence here.

3.  Parity in the National League:  With a month to play in the 2006 season, eight NL teams placed within four games of the Wild Card lead.  Undoubtedly numerous GMs feel that they're just a player away from making the offseason.  This helps explain what's probably the worst deal of this offseason (so far, it needs must be added), the Astros' signing of Carlos Lee.

4.  A backlash against "moneyball":  For several years, teams prided themselves on locating undervalued players. With so many clubs now willing to spend astronomical sums, avoiding risk may mean taking yourself out of the market altogether.

5.  Herd behavior:  Shortly before the GM Meetings in Florida, Boston paid $51.1 million for the right  to negotiate with Japanese ace Daisuke Matsuzaka, and with that, baseball's economic pendulum may have swung dramatically away from fiscal prudence.  "When investors are influenced by others' decisions, they may herd on an investment decision that is wrong for all of them," write the authors of a 2001 International Monetary Fund paper, "Herd Behavior in Financial Markets."  What's more, "Individuals [in a market] may have a preference for conformity."  Fearful of innovation, baseball is nothing if not conservative.  Which in this case is just another word for reckless.

A New Kind of Moneyball

Matsuzaka, swarmed by media, departs for the U.S. from Narita International Airport, November 15, 2006

On Tuesday, Major League Baseball and the Seibu Lions of the Japanese League jointly announced that the Boston Red Sox had won the the exclusive rights to negotiate with Daisuke Matsuzaka for an astonishing blind bid of $51.1 million.  The offer doubled pre-bidding estimates and exceeded that of the runner-up Mets by more than $13 million.  For the sport, this is a historic moment.  Boston's bid calls to mind nothing if not the exorbitant "transfer fees" European soccer clubs pay to acquire superstar talent--David Beckham, say ($41 million in 2003), or Zinedine Zidane ($65 million in 2001).  For the first time, baseball's international profile, in Asia at least, is sufficiently broad that American teams can spend enormous sums on talent and still (perhaps) see a profit thanks to new foreign revenue streams--cable broadcasts, advertising, merchandising, travel packages, and so forth.  For instance, Scott Boras claims that the ex-Japanese League star Hideki Matsui generates $21 million annually for the New York Yankees.  Not coincidentally, Boras is Matsuzaka's agent.

The Baby-Faced Ace

Matsuzaka is said to throw a mysterious pitch called a "gyroball"

Starting pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka of the Seibu Lions, the so-called "baby-faced ace," may have the best raw stuff in all of Japan.  He's particularly celebrated for his alleged mastery of a mysterious pitch, the gyroball, and his extraordinary durability:  As a high schooler during the playoffs, he once threw 250 pitches in a 17-inning complete game, followed it with a save the next day, and followed that a day later with a nine-inning no-hitter.  This past spring, we saw him win the MVP at the World Baseball Classic.

For some time, Matsuzaka has sought to jump to the big leagues; until this year, the Lions refused him permission to do so.  Last Thursday, however, Seibu, in dire financial straits, reluctantly announced that it would "post" Matsuzaka.

What this means is that Major League Baseball, acting on behalf of the Lions, has begun accepting sealed bids for the rights to negotiate with the pitcher.  To win those rights could cost more than $30 million.  Scott Boras, the Dick Cheney of sports agents, represents Matsuzaka, and his public comments to date suggest the pitcher will be seeking #1-starter money--something on the order of $14 million a year.  (This money is distinct from the posting fee, which the Lions will keep.)

After 5 PM tomorrow, we should know the amount of the winning bid, and possibly the identity of the winning bidder as well.  Right now, we know that several teams have reportedly opted not to bid, among them the Mariners, Dodgers, Angels, and Indians.

Apparently some of these teams aren't participating because they've determined Matsuzaka doesn't want to play for them.  I'm skeptical.  Earlier this fall I spoke with an American and a National League scout, each from a team rumored to be interested in Matsuzaka.  Both men had watched the pitcher extensively, and both told me the same thing:  He's not a #1 starter.  "His fastball's straighter than you'd like it to be," said one of them.  I'm guessing that the teams that aren't bidding may have reached the same conclusion--that Matsuzaka isn't worth the money.  Finding out whether or not they're correct will be one of the most interesting stories of the 2007 season.

For more on Daisuke Matsuzaka, see Matsuzaka Watch, a blog maintained by a Yankees fan living in Japan.

Mulder's Mechanics

Formerly one of the Oakland Athletics' celebrated Three Aces (along with Barry Zito and Tim Hudson), Mark Mulder ranked among the best left-handed pitchers in baseball until 2003, when he was diagnosed with a degenerative hip condition.  After being traded to St. Louis he remade his mechanics, with less than satisfactory results:  In 2006, he allowed nearly two baserunners per inning.

At Baseball Think Factory, a very smart minor-league pitcher has done a fascinating and intensive analysis of Mulder's mechanics then and now, complete with stop-motion GIFs (excerpted above).  It's definitely worth a look.

Playoff Pitcher Tests Positive

Guillermo Mota, who pitched in relief this year for the Mets, has failed a drug test and will be suspended for the first 50 games of the 2007 season.  To his credit, Mota's not issuing the sort of faux-bewildered denials we've lately become all too familiar with.

A more cynical take on the matter:  Mota is a free agent, which undoubtedly is shaping his response here.  With prospective employers watching him closely, he doesn't want to present himself as defiant or uncooperative.  To the extent that this is possible, he's trying to salvage his reputation.

We don't yet know whether the drug in question was a performance-enhancer.  For the record, Mota pitched poorly in the postseason, giving up 5 runs and 10 hits in 8.1 innings.  He was, however, excellent for the Mets during the regular season:  In 18 innings, he struck out 19 and allowed 2 runs, for an ERA of 1.00.

Update: The Associated Press is now confirming that Mota did in fact test positive for "a performance-enhancing substance."

Postscript

Virtually every time St. Louis tested Detroit in this World Series--by putting men on base with two outs, by hitting double-play balls, by lofting the ball into the gap late in games--Detroit collapsed.  In Game 5, Jeff Weaver left a lot of floaty stuff over the plate; not once did the Tigers seize the advantage.  That's what made this such a crappy championship.  We saw neither team pushed to its limit.

During the on-field interviews following Game 5, various Cardinal players and execs remarked that no one had believed in their team this year.  To say this while standing in front of 50,000 of baseball's most steadfast and forgiving fans, as Albert Pujols did, struck me as strangely ungrateful.  But Pujols' comments were beside the point, because Detroit gave away this World Series.  In all, the Tigers allowed eight unearned runs, essentially spotting the Cardinals nearly two runs in every game.

Granted, I watched the games mostly with the volume muted, but not once did I hear Fox's broadcast team pose this provocative question:  What has happened to Ivan Rodriguez?  In this World Series, he was decidedly, as they say, "a non factor."  Is there a power hitter more diminished since baseball's institution of tougher drug-testing standards?  Between 1999 and 2002, I-Rod averaged 26 home runs (including 27 in only 91 games in 2000); in the four years since, he's averaged 15. 

This offseason, Detroit's looking for offense, of course, and will reportedly put Jeremy Bonderman, who's only 24 and an ace in the making, on the market.  The Tigers want to acquire A-grade prospects to succeed Rodriguez at catcher and Guillen (who will be an expensive free agent after 2007) at shortstop.

The Game That Almost Was

By the top of the fifth, Jeff Suppan had already given up six hits to a revivified Tigers offense.  Craig Monroe began the inning by grounding out to third.  Then Carlos Guillen singled to right field.  With the best part of Detroit's batting order due, St. Louis manager Tony LaRussa must have been preparing to replace Suppan.

Or not.

He let Suppan pitch to Magglio Ordonez, who holds a lifetime OPS of 1.051 against him (which is to say that Ordonez, against Suppan, metamorphoses into a near-perfect copy of David Ortiz.)  But Ordonez flew out to center.  Next came Sean Casey, who was already 2-for-2 in the game, with a home run.  Even Tim McCarver observed that LaRussa needed to relieve his starter at this point.  LaRussa left Suppan in the game, however, and Casey singled to center field on the first pitch.  With two outs and two men on base, Ivan Rodriguez, 6-for-12 against Suppan during his career, came to bat.  He swung at the first pitch and grounded out to shortstop.

Detroit led at the time by one run; the game would be decided by the same margin. At the postgame press conference, we heard the Cardinals manager talk about his team's "heart" and "guts." Three times last night Tony LaRussa made an indefensible decision--a decision that actually favored his opponent--and three times he got away with it.  He is newly confirmed in his belief in his own gut instinct.  A school of baseball thought is ratified.  Somewhere in North Carolina, Grady Little is tipping his cap to LaRussa.