• Phillies 4-Rays 3:

    I do not want to see or hear one more word about how smart Joe Maddon is.
    I do not want to see or hear one more word about how quirky Joe Maddon is.
    I do not want to see or hear one more word about how he was recruited to attend the Ivy League schools Penn and Princeton; about how he’s a fitness fanatic who carries a dismantled bicycle on the road and puts it together to ride to and from the ballpark; how he’s a wine collector; how he’s different from most managers who cuss a blue streak and have tobacco juice running down their chins.
    I don’t want to hear any of that stuff because any manager who screws up as royally as Maddon did throughout an entire post-season not only shouldn’t be receiving accolades for “turning” a hapless, annual 100-game loser into a 97-win World Series runner up, there’s a reasonable case to fire him because it’s clear that he doesn’t know what he’s doing strategically.
    First, how do you leave Grant Balfour in the game to start Game 5 2/3 in the bottom of the sixth inning to pitch to Geoff Jenkins when you have not one, not two, but three lefties in the bullpen? When Jenkins has become completely inept against lefties and the Phillies only had the unimposing Chris Coste, who looked terrible in his game one start, as a right-handed bat to hit for Jenkins? When David Price, the devastating rookie number one draft pick who’s handled everything put in front of him was available and ready to go? How?!? Not only was Maddon lucky that Jenkins’s shot didn’t go out of the park, but he compounded the screw up even more after the sixth inning.
    The Rays received a stunning and heartwarming homer from Rocco Baldelli in the top of the seventh to tie the game. Jason Bartlett singled with one out and Maddon left J.P. Howell in so he could bunt. This is with Eric Hinske on the bench; with Ben Zobrist (a switch-hitter on the bench); with Willy Aybar (another switch hitter) on the bench; with Fernando Perez (another switch hitter on the bench). After Howell’s successful bunt for the second out, Bartlett made a heinous baserunning gaffe by getting thrown out at home after Chase Utley fielded Akinori Iwamura’s infield hit. Then came the bottom of the seventh when, if you didn’t think Maddon could make things worse, you found that you’d be wrong.
    Maddon—-with a bullpen containing both Dan Wheeler and the siderarming Chad Bradford—-left J.P. Howell in to pitch to Pat Burrell. Never mind that Burrell slugs .73 points higher and has an OPS .131 points higher against lefties; never mind that Howell has been far, far, far worse against right-handed hitters in his career (he was good against them this year, but how many righties did he face like Burrell over the course of the season, I wonder) than he has against lefties; Maddon had two righties in the bullpen. Burrell is 0 for 3 career against Bradford and is 2 for 11 career against Wheeler and Maddon waited until after Burrell doubled to deep center field (and without the wind, the ball would’ve gone into space) and then brought Bradford in to pitch to Shane Victorino. Naturally, after Victorino’s grounder advanced the runner to third, Pedro Feliz singled to center to give the Phillies the lead again and the Phillies happily took the lead, won the game and the World Series.
    I’ve gone on about Maddon’s other mistakes throughout the post-season and I’m not going to get into everything again, but this was the fifth game of the World Series and his team was down three games to one; did he realize that if the Rays lost, they were going to go, you know, home? That the season was going to be over? Why wasn’t Price in the game in the sixth? Why did he leave Howell in the game to hit? Why did he let Howell pitch to Burrell? What was he doing? This wasn’t a situation where the game happened too fast for him to be able to keep up with everything; that would at least be an excuse (a notoriously weak one, but an excuse nonetheless); he had two days to think about this; to think about the bad things that could happen had he left Balfour in to pitch to any of the Phillies three lefty power bats on their bench in Jenkins, Matt Stairs and Greg Dobbs; to think about how good Price has been throughout this entire post-season; how doing what he did made no sense whatsoever. Joe Buck and Tim McCarver speculated that perhaps Maddon didn’t want Price to have to bat fourth in the top of the seventh inning, but my reaction to that is: Yeah? So? So what if he had to hit? And Maddon left a pitcher in to hit instead of one of the numerous bats he had available on the bench anyway. 
    As affable as Maddon is along with all the other attributes he has, I’d rather have Billy Martin at his drunkest, most contentious, pugnacious and irritable because Martin, with his street fighter mentality and contempt for overthinking college players, coaches and managers, wouldn’t make such egregious (borderline embarrassing) errors in using his personnel. It was like there was a monkey spinning a wheel of fortune telling Maddon what to do like in the spoof reality show, My Big Fat Obnoxious Boss; and if I were a higher up with the Rays, Maddon would hear the catchwords of the fictional “obnoxious boss”, N. Paul Todd, when I called him in, thanked him for his hard work and sa
id, “get the hell out of my office,” as I hired a manager who strategically, knows what he’s doing.
 

    There are the endless stories and apologies and hand wringing and questioning and wondering and criticism of the way Commissioner Bud Selig and Major League Baseball handled the whole rain out/cancellation/suspension and it’s enough. They did the right thing and Selig’s acting like someone who’s about to have a Pete Rozelle-Al Davis-style blood feud with someone (the media, the fans, the owners); what’s the problem? So they’ll finish the game tonight, as they should. They got a faulty weather forecast on Monday, tried to get the game in and made the smart decision to suspend it. No matter how the decision was reached and whether or not there was confusion here and there is irrelevant; the bottom line is that they did the right thing and there won’t be any righteous indignation as to what baseball did wrong for once. Give the guy a break. 

• Rays 2-Phillies 2 (Suspended Mid-6):

    Commissioner Bud Selig was absolutely, positively, completely, 1,000,000% right to say that he wouldn’t allow a World Series to end on a game shortened by the weather. I doubt that even the most misanthropic, ignorant, abusive, desperate, stupid, mustard-throwing, neanderthal Phillies fan would want a championship that way for no other reason than it would be easy to dismiss it as having been handed to them rather than won on the field. I was screaming at Joe Buck as to what an idiot he is when he and Tim McCarver were talking about how the game and series would’ve ended with a Phillies win had the game been called before the Rays tied the score, but according to the rulebook, they were right. Even with the right call that was made, did the fact that the game wasn’t going to be called in favor of the Phillies under any circumstances without a completed game get to the umpiring crew?
    The rain didn’t appear to be falling with anymore intensity in the sixth inning than it had in the prior three innings, so why did they wait to halt the game until the Rays tied the score? If the stories that say Selig told the umpiring crew that the game wasn’t going to be called to either team no matter what happened are true, why didn’t they just put the tarp on the field earlier?
    I can tell you from experience in having worked outside in that type of rain that it’s in many ways worse than a driving rainstorm in which it seems like there are buckets of water being dumped onto one’s head; the type of rain last night was of the steady, ice-cold variety that not only gets you soaked before you know it, but it’s that type of weather that gets people sick. The field was clearly unplayable before the Rays tied the score and there wasn’t much difference in the circumstances from when it was 2-1 Phillies, until it was 2-2; so why didn’t they suspend it earlier if the commissioner of baseball said they weren’t going to just award the game to either team? They can deny it all they want, but it looked like the umpires were waiting for the Rays to tie the score and then suspend it so there wouldn’t be any implication of bended rules; but that’s the commissioner’s prerogative; and no one would’ve argued that he was changing the rules to favor anyone because no one wants to win that way. The game should’ve been suspended earlier, no matter the score.

• Now come the strategic decisions:

    The game is now going to come down to a three inning affair to see if the Phillies are going to be the world champions or there’s going to be a game six in Tampa, and this is where we’ll see if which manager makes the smart decision and which manager makes the stupid decision.
    Before Joe Maddon came into the interview room, I thought it was clear that James Shields should be sent out to the mound to start the bottom of the sixth inning on Tuesday night(?); predictably, Maddon said he wasn’t going to do that and that Grant Balfour was still technically in the game as the pitcher. With most managers, I’d say there was absolutely no chance that Balfour would essentially be sent out there as a starting pitcher for Game 5 2/3; with Maddon, I don’t know. The Rays have three options: they can use the bullpen as if it’s a continuation of the game from the sixth inning onward; they can use Shields; or they can send David Price out there and have him treat the game as a start. Of the three, the best option is to use Price.
    Using the lefty Price not only makes sense since he’s a starting pitcher, but because he’s better suited to deal with the Phillies lineup and bench. Carlos Ruiz made the last out of the fifth inning for the Phillies and pitcher Cole Hamels is scheduled to lead off the bottom of the sixth; if Maddon uses one of his righties, the Phillies have Greg Dobbs and Matt Stairs to hit for Hamels; if he uses Price, they don’t have much of a selection other than Chris Coste, who looked awful in his game one start as DH. After that, the Phillies are two batters away from Chase Utley and Ryan Howard. I would not want to use my bullpen righties against those guys when one run might end the game and series. Price is the only option.
    Charlie Manuel has a similar decision to make. He could use Brett Myers to start the seventh inning, which wouldn’t be unfamiliar territory for Myers no matter how he reconciles the situation mentally. He’s been a starter all year and he could look at the game as as start; or since he closed last year, he could look at it as a relief appearance. Manuel could also play for one run in the bottom of the sixth and go with Ryan Madson to pitch the seventh and eighth and then to Brad Lidge in the ninth. (That’s my preference.) He could also have both Myers and Madson warming up and if the game’s tied use Myers and if they get a lead, go with Madson.
    I’m not even going to speculate what either side is going to do because if I crawl too deeply into their cavernous heads, rife with trapdoors and creepy goings-on and bottomless pits, I might disappear, never to be heard from again other than as a replacement for that strange voice that tells Maddon or Manuel to do things that don’t make sense. Actually, both might be better off if that were the case, although I probably wouldn’t.     

• Phillies 10-Rays 2:

    Of all the storylines surrounding Joe Blanton’s homer—-he was only 2 for 26 in his entire career; no pitcher had homered in the World Series since 1974; etc.—-the most fascinating had to be the extended tour he took running around the bases. Whereas a guy like Casey Blake hits a homer and almost sprints around the bases, Blanton’s was slower than anything Reggie Jackson ever could’ve come up with at his most flamboyant moments of showboating. In movie terms it was the difference between a teaser preview and sitting through Titanic.
    As for the game, the Phillies have started hitting and—-despite the pundits going on about Scott Kazmir and how the Rays can’t be counted out—-this series is going to end tonight. The Phillies don’t want to have to go back to Tampa; Cole Hamels is going to give them another solid performance and lock up a John Smoltz/Dave Stewart-type post-season by winning the MVP in both the League Championship Series and World Series and Kazmir’s going to get shelled and be gone by the second inning.
    One question: Unless he was simply getting his arm loose because he hadn’t pitched since Wednesday, why was Brad Lidge warming up in the ninth inning with the Phillies leading 10-2? Even if the Rays had scored two runs and then loaded the bases, there would’ve been ample time for Lidge to get loose in time to get a save; why waste what bullets he has left at this time of year?

• The next manager of the Brewers to be…Willie Randolph?

    Ken Macha is still said to be the frontrunner for the job, but (this is my speculation), I think the Brewers are going to weigh everything that their three main candidates can provide and smartly pick Willie Randolph as their new manager. Joel Sherman wrote this in the NY Post yesterday:

The perception has been that Bob Brenly is the
frontrunner to become the Brewers’ manager. But a person familiar with
the process said Brenly’s interview did not go that well and that
former A’s manager Ken Macha is now considered the leading candidate. Willie Randolph is the third person currently being considered for the job. He is well liked by Milwaukee GM Doug Melvin and his interview apparently went well. In addition – surprisingly – he has received strong endorsements from Mets officials. Of course, if Randolph is hired by the Brewers some of the $2.25
million the Mets still owe him for 2009 would be removed, which could
be a good reason for Met officials to be so positive about Randolph.

    I think cooler heads will prevail regarding Brenly. Melvin’s a smart guy and he has to know what really went on in Arizona when Brenly managed the Diamondbacks and he just functioned as a breathing, functioning body in a veteran clubhouse that had grown tired of Buck Showalter’s micromanaging. I also believe that Macha’s reputation is going to prevent him from getting the job. Supposedly Jason Kendall, a strong and respected voice in the Brewers clubhouse, didn’t get along with Macha in Oakland with the Athletics and there’s the perception that Macha’s a bit too Machiavellian after the way he reportedly stabbed Art Howe in the back as his bench coach and weaseled his way into getting the Athletics job by interviewing for several vacancies and being portrayed as the “brains” in Oakland. (There was only one brain in Oakland then and it was Billy Beane.) It also helped that Howe wanted a contract extension and more money, which he got from the Mets. That leaves Randolph.
    While Sherman’s assertion that the money aspect probably contributed to the Mets glowing recommendation of Randolph is partially true, I think the majority of the Mets front office generally liked and respected Willie for his hard work and how he instilled discipline and accountability in a team that so desperately needed it. I’m not sure how the contract stuff works (maybe someone could verify this), but I believe that the Mets would only have to pay the difference of what’s left after he receives a contract somewhere else; so if the Brewers give him a $900,000 a year deal for 2009, the Mets would pick up the other $1.35 million.
    It ended badly for Randolph with the Mets, and that wasn’t all his fault; but he’s the best of the three options for the Brewers for a number of reasons, not the least in which he doesn’t have the baggage that Macha and Brenly do and he’s smart enough to have learned his lessons from what happened with the Mets. If anything, the Mets experience should prepare him for whatever would happen in Milwaukee strategically; in the clubhouse; with the press; and with the front office. 

    If there’s any encompassing storyline to the World Series so far, it wouldn’t have anything to do with the players; or the “worst-to-first” aspect of the Rays; or the historical ineptitude of the Phillies, but it would be a question from observers directed toward the decisions made by both managers as they’re being made; and that question—-What the hell’s he doing?—-overshadows just about everything else.
    The questionable strategic maneuverings of both managers—-Phillies manager Charlie Manuel’s decision not to pinch hit for Pedro Feliz against Dan Wheeler in the sixth inning (for the record, I probably would’ve let Feliz hit as well); and Rays manager Joe Maddon’s odd lineup choices and bullpen selections—-are rife for second guessing not just because of their failures, but because there’s no iron-clad explanation for what they’re doing. Manuel didn’t DH Pat Burrell in game one because Burrell doesn’t like to DH; Maddon inserted Ben Zobrist in right field for reasons no one seems to know—-it’s like they’re picking strategies out of the air and using the oft-used and nonsensical reason of “going with my gut” as a way to put an end to the queries of what they were thinking.
    All of this made me think back to former big league manager Davey Johnson’s book about the 1985 season managing the Mets when Johnson recounted his experience playing for the Orioles and Hank Bauer in the mid-1960s. The book itself isn’t all that great (it’s another in a long line of biographies in which the subject—-Johnson—-claimed to have been misquoted even though he was credited and one would assume paid as a co-author); but it does have some useful bits about what it’s like to be in the big leagues as a player and manager. Johnson didn’t think much of Bauer’s managerial skills even though he was at the helm when the Orioles beat the Sandy Koufax/Don Drysdale Dodgers in a four-game sweep in the 1966 World Series. Here’s Johnson’s assessment of Bauer:

Hank wasn’t a very good manager. In ’66 he had been lucky. Everything he did worked. He would bat Chico Salmon, a right-hander, against a right-handed pitcher, and Salmon would double. Moe Drawbowsky, a good but not a great relief pitcher, would come in and strike out six in a row in the World Series. Frank Robinson would drive in runs or make a great catch so often it was unreal. Hank could do no wrong that year.
The next year, the confusion began. The pitching staff went to pieces, and his moves started to go sour. Hank was just hanging on, waiting for the ax to fall. (Bats, by Davey Johnson and Peter Golenbock; page 116; G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1986.)

    Now Johnson doesn’t hide the fact that he didn’t get along all that well with Bauer, but Bauer’s Orioles collapsed to seventh place in 1967 and he was fired at mid-season in 1968. He took over the burgeoning dynasty of the Oakland Athletics in 1969 and brought that young team in second place before Charlie Finley fired him after one season.
    There are some interesting things about Bauer. He managed the Orioles for five years and the first three were excellent, culminating with that World Series win; then the players appeared to stop listening to him and things slowly fell apart. The downfall didn’t have much to do with talent because the foundation of the Earl Weaver-Orioles teams was in place then and they were very, very young; it could’ve been that Bauer, a Marine tough-guy, wore down his players with his style, but that argument could be counteracted by Weaver being just as much of a disciplinarian. Weaver lasted from 1968 until 1982 and then returned for 1985-87 because he was a great (not good, great) strategic manager from whom there was always an explanation for his decisions.
    This also begs the question of whether the players are tolerating a manager’s style while it’s working even if they don’t think he knows what he’s doing, and once his luck runs out, the players bail physically and mentally. I can’t believe that Johnson was the only player on that team who wasn’t impressed with Bauer’s strategic acumen, and once his luck ran out, it ran out and he had to go. In the record books though, Weaver and Bauer have the exact same number of World Series wins to their credit—-one. Weaver’s in the Hall of Fame and Bauer never managed in the big leagues after being fired by Finley even though he was only 46. He managed a couple of years in the minors, doing quite well, became a scout and then opened a liquor store in Kansas. (That wouldn’t happen today. Bauer would absolutely and deservedly get another job as manager, probably soon after the firing by Finley.) Bauer was obviously doing something right to have all that success, but that doesn’t make him a good strategic manager and who’s to say which is more important? 
    How much does luck have to do with a manager winning? With the better luck of not having to continually run into the Yankees or getting past some inferior teams in the playoffs, Bobby Cox and the Braves would have at least three more titles from their long run in the 90s and early 2000s; Tony La Russa would have won a couple more World Series than the two he’s won; Billy Martin, another great manager, would’ve won more than his lone title.
    If he wins three more games, Joe Maddon will have the same number of World Series titles as Bobby Cox, Earl Weaver and Billy Martin and I’m convinced that Maddon just makes things up as he goes along without reason, but it’s working somehow. I picked the Phillies to win this series, but judging from the first two games, whoever wins is going to win because some unsung player is going to do something spectacular and make the manager look like a genius even though it’ll be clear to those that know something about
strategy that he didn’t make his moves for any viable reason, he just sort of did it, and it worked well enough to win him a World Series and make him a championship manager even though by all other standard basis of judgment, he wasn’t all that smart, he was just very, very lucky.
    Lucky to have a clueless home plate umpire in Kerwin Danley in game two; lucky to have an unheralded player run into a pitch and hit it out of the park; lucky to have journeymen relievers get a couple of big outs; lucky, lucky, lucky. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good and if there’s an example of that it’s going to be the Rays’ highlight video of 2008, because I can think of no other reason that Joe Maddon has managed to get his team this far after watching him do everything possible to run them off the rails and still having them win.