Boot And Rally: Napoli Returns to the Party

He is back! Mike Napoli, the bearded gentleman last seen pounding shots from behind the bar at McGreevy’s and strolling through the Back Bay shirtless while ripping a cig, is back.  You know what that means, Billy Bob?

That’s right, you dangerously obese fictional character*(see Epilogue). It's time to rally. As glorious as those final 2013 images of Napoli are, however, and they are plenty glorious, it would be doing him disservice if they completely overshadowed the season’s preceding seven months, during which he worked deep pitch counts, hit clutch, tape measure home runs, and played Gold Glove-caliber defense on a daily basis. The man earned his party, and even though it’s 1:45am and the bars are closing, Napoli isn’t ready to call it a night in Boston. And I could not be more excited.

 

Why am I so pumped about his return? Well, because, in just one season, Mike Napoli has become one of my all-time favorite Red Sox. While I appreciated him throughout the 2013 season, it was not until this off-season I realized why exactly he joined the ranks of Pedro, Zupcic, Manny, Mueller, and Damon:  He exists at the point where both parts of my fandom intersect. He is an extra-base hits, on-base, defensive runs saving machine, who is embraced by Keith Law and stat-lovers everywhere. At the same time, the guy hits bombs, grows a sweet beard, and always plays a key part on winning teams; in other words, he is gritty, a great teammate, and chock full the kind of intangibles I loved when I was playing in my front yard...and causes middle-aged white sportswriters come down with a case of the vapors.

 

When the Sox signed Napoli, I knew relatively little about him, beyond the most common media narratives. I knew he struck out, a lot. I knew Mike Sciosia decided Jeff Mathis was a superior option, making Napoli expendable. (In the deal’s immediate aftermath, it became apparent just how monumentally fucking stupid a decision it was. But it was Mike Sciosia, so it must have been a brilliant decision. To be fair, though, Napoli did refuse to put down the 20-25 sacrifice bunts Sciosia ordered of him.) I knew he had a monster 2011 season, after being traded from the Angels (30 HR, .320/.414/.631, 173 OPS+), followed by a regression in 2012 (24 HR, .227/.343./.469, 113+ OPS). I knew he was the presumed 2011 World Series MVP (.350/.464/.700, 2 HR, 10 RBI, 14 TB), before the Cardinals stunned the Rangers. And finally, I knew he was a career catcher with a degenerative hip condition that was causing his move to first base.

A simpler, less awesome time. "Sciosisa seriously wants me to steal 40 bases?"

So, what have I come to know about Napoli during the past 12 months? Plenty (this is just good, succinct writing). First, the many ways he appeals to me as a lifelong, irrational baseball fan.

Put simply, I enjoy the hell out of it all: the beard, the tattoos, the towering home runs, the clutch hits, the yanking on his buddy’s beards, the shots of whiskey, the cigarette dangling as he stumbles through one of Boston’s ritziest neighborhoods. Napoli feels like a throwback player to the 1930’s or 1940’s, one of those country-strong, urban mythical legend guys from the fields of Oklahoma, who, his senior of high school, hit 30 home runs, scored 40 points a game in basketball, and played fullback, linebacker, and kicker for the football team. Before school, he worked in the fields with his father and brothers. Fields of what, you ask? I have no idea. He married his high school sweetheart, Donna Sue, and finished a bottle of Ole Kentucky Hard Bourbon every night on the road. Is any of this true, relevant, or logical? Probably not. Who knows? Who cares, quite honestly, because this section is about intangibles, guts, and love of the game. And, as we know, for most sportswriters, facts, logic, and common sense take a backseat to a good story. If they get to do it all year, why can't I do it for one day?

 

If Ron Swanson has become many male’s ideal (television) persona, Mike Napoli is who I’d want to be if I were a professional baseball player. As a fat child, I spent thousands of hours hitting tennis balls with wooden bat over the neighbor's driveway - a home run - and watching them soar out of the yard. I also considered myself pretty good with glove, which in our yard was just my bare hands. Okay, maybe I would strike out with slightly less frequency. But I would retain his “clutch” ability. Damn, just writing "clutch" seems wrong. To be clear: I loathe the idea of “clutch.” Is a player who strikes out three times and then homers to win the game preferable to a player who homers three times and then strikes out to end the game? The Felger’s of the world would have believe they are more valuable. I disagree, strongly.  However, it is hard to deny a bevy of Napoli’s extra-base hits came in game-saving or game-winning situations. Below is a sampling of his clutch hits in 2013:

 

April 15 vs. Tampa Bay - Two Out, Walk-Off Double in Bottom 9th

July 21 vs. New York - Two Out, Walk-Off Home Run in Bottom 11th

August 14 at Toronto - Two Out, Game Tying Home Run in Top 9th

September 6 at New York - Two Out, Game Tying Grand Slam in Top 7th

Amazing. In fact, it's almost  enough to make me rethink my feelings about "clutch." 

Ugh. I feel dirty just typing that. I need to shower and then discuss some advanced metrics just to repent. Wow, what a convenient, completely organic segue into discussing Napoli's statistical awesomeness.

First, and of the utmost importance to me, he led all of baseball with 4.59 Pitches Per Plate Appearance. Now, that is a hitter after my own heart. Similar to my love for cheese pizza and vanilla ice cream, there is no quality in a hitter I appreciate more than patience and driving up a pitcher’s pitch count. Hitting a home run on first pitch? Pshhh, anyone can do that. Popping out to second base after a 14 pitch at-bat? There’s a hitter who is doing his part to chase the starting pitcher by the fifth inning. Someday, fingers-crossed, a player will have a 35 pitch at-bat. That will be my favorite moment in baseball history. I’m so damn boring.

But outside of my boring nerd enjoyment for Napoli’s sweet, sweet pitches per plate appearance, his final line was very good, if not great:

139 games, .259/.360/.482, 38 2B (11th in AL), 23 HR, 92 RBI (11th in AL)

That basic stat line, albeit impressive, only tells part of the story of his offensive prowess, though.

His overall slugging percentage was .482, but when he hit from the cleanup spot in the lineup, he slugged .572, good for second in the AL. That is all the more critical and important on a team that gets on-base like the Sox, who in 2013,  led all of MLB with a .349 OBP, finished second with 1,566 hits, and placed third with 581 walks. The Sox put runners on-base to be knocked in.

In 2013, Napoli put together a .816 OPS when he faced right-handed pitching, which was sixth best in the league for right-handed hitters. Napoli’s tremendous ability to get on base and hit for power against right-handed pitching allows him to remain in the lineup against the likes of Kuroda, Verlander, Scherzer, Masterson, Matt Moore, Felix Hernandez, and Wainwright & Wacha in the World Series. Also, it means a pinch-hitter is not necessary whenever the team faces a tough righty reliever.

In fact, his two biggest postseason hits came against right-handers. In Game 3 of the ALCS, his 450 foot home run off Verlander was the game’s sole run. In Game 1 of the World Series, Napoli’s three-run double in the first inning off of Adam Wainwright started the Sox’s 8-1 rout.

Though his 23 home runs were his fewest since 2009, Napoli’s career rate of a home run every 16.4 at-bats ranks seventh among all active players.  And when he hit did hit a home run in 2013, there was little doubt it was gone off the bat.  At 412 feet, he had the fourth longest average home run in baseball. Like I said, guy hits bombs.

In the midst of all this statistical minutiae, though, it was Napoli’s defensive abilities that were most surprising and impressive, at least to me. Prior to the 2013 season, Napoli played 105 career games at First-Base. And, a year ago at this time, I was skeptical of his ability to be the everyday first-baseman for a contending team. I was stupid. I was wrong. I was stupid and wrong. He was great, like borderline Gold Glove worthy. And I have always been partial to good fielding first-basemen, several of whom rank among my all-time favorite players: J.T. Snow, John Olerud, Jeff Bagwell, Doug Mientkiewicz. In 2013, Napoli put himself in that company.

In 131 games at first-base, he committed just six errors, sixth fewest among the 15 MLB first-baseman who played at least 125 games.

In fact, not only did Napoli not make mistakes, advanced metrics ranked Napoli as one of the best defensive first-basemen in the game, both for his ability to save runs and make more plays at the position than most every other player in the league. In Runs Saved, he was +10, which ranked fourth among all MLB first basemen. The Runs Saved value “indicates how many runs a player saved or cost his team in the field compared to the average player at his position. A player of zero Runs Saved is about average; a positive number of runs saved indicate above average defense” (Bill James Handbook).

Napoli’s +12 Plus/Minus rating was also fourth in all of baseball. Plus/Minus “is a method for evaluating defensive play on batted balls…A player gets credit (a “plus” number) if he makes a play that at least one other player at his position missed during the season...A total of zero would be average.” (Bill James Handbook).

Defensive metrics are considered imperfect, but they do provide support that the guy who hits mammoth home runs ain't too shabby around the bag, either.

*****

There it is. Napoli wears out pitchers, hits for power, plays excellent defense, and seems to have a great damn time doing it all. And now he’s coming back. So, pull the trigger. Maybe eat something or get some fresh air. Boot and rally!

"Rip that jersey off, bro. We're headed to Pour House."

*Epilogue

Ron Lester, the actor who portrayed Billy Bob in Varsity Blues, played essentially the same role in Not Another Teen Movie. That is like Tom Cruise playing the lead in Hot Shots: Part Deux or Kevin Costner playing the titular character in Robin Hood: Men in Tights. Mr. Lester has since lost more than 300 pounds. I’m not kidding. Look below. Weird. Weird, but healthy, I suppose.

A Spot for Nava: What Did He Ever Do to John Farrell?

A few weeks ago, at the Dunkin’ Donuts on Brighton Ave in Allston, I ordered a Large Iced Pumpkin coffee with skim milk. After waiting more than five minute, despite being the sole customer in the store, I received a Medium Iced Regular coffee with no milk. To be fair, they were close, in that I received a liquid beverage. It was just every other detail that was slightly off. But did I complain or insist they correct the order? Of course not, because I am timid and I hate making waves much more than I hate iced regular coffee with no milk. In fact, without giving it much thought, I proceeded to place $1 in the tip cup, despite being extremely dissatisfied with the service. That $1 was gone, never to return.

True, it was not the single greatest waste of $1 of my life. On Thanksgiving Eve 2010, I ate sloppily devoured a McDonald’s cheeseburger at 3am in a Milford parking lot. Six hours later, I awoke with strep throat. Now, that could have been due to the lack of sleep, excessive alcohol consumption, and the beginning cold & flu season, but I attribute the week of strep to that Dollar Menu cheeseburger. That was a poorly spent $1.

By the way, if you’re counting, that’s 200 words about my thoughtless $1 spending habits. And if you have made it this far (Hi, Nicole!), you are most likely wondering why I would subject you to these 50 words explaining those initial 200 words.

Well, it's because for the amount I tipped for coffee I did not order, and I paid for beef-like substance that caused sickness, the Red Sox bought Daniel Nava. I am sure you all know the story, but if not, here is the briefest of recaps: In 2008, the Sox purchased Nava’s contract from the Golden League’s Chico (CA) Outlaws for $1. In 2013, he was among the most productive hitters in the American League. The Red Sox will likely never regret that $1, even if Nava gives the team strep throat.

To be clear, I am not writing this from a place of angry, righteous indignation (over something that has not yet occurred, which is my usual M.O.), but rather from a place of hope. After Nava lost his starting job and was relegated to an afterthought for much of the postseason, I sincerely hope there is a consistent place for him in the Sox lineup. At this moment, at the very least, it seems a certainty he will be on the roster next season. He is flexible, capable of playing both corner outfield spots, first base, and is a strong enough hitter to DH. He is not arbitration eligible until 2015, and he will not become a free agent until 2018. He will turn 31 during Spring Training, meaning he is under team control at the age when most position players are reaching their offensive peak.

But in this modern sports media environment, where playoff performances have come to define a player to a much greater degree than the larger sample size of the regular season (see: Drew,Stephen; James, Lebron), it is easy to forget just how outstanding and valuable Nava was in 2013:

134 games, .303/.385/.445, 29 2B, 12 HR, 66 RBI, 77 RS, 15 HBP (2^nd in the AL), 128 OPS+

It is when we delve deeper into the 2013 numbers, however, that we see just good Nava has become, and why he should remain a vital member of the Sox offense in 2014. Last season, he ranked among the best hitters against right-handed pitching in the American League:

• .385 OBP – 5th in the AL
• .411 OBP vs, Right-Handed Pitching – 5th in the AL
• .322 Batting Average vs. Right-Handed Pitching – 6th in AL
• .894 OPS vs. Right-Handed Pitching – 9th in AL

The names ahead of Nava in these categories: Ortiz, Cabrera, Trout, Cano, and Chris Davis. When he faces right-handed pitching, he keeps very good, Hall-of-Fame level company.

Cano is set to make $25-30 million a season. Nava made $505,500 in 2013, and he is scheduled to make $500,000 in 2014. And 2014 looks nearly as promising as this past season.

"I 'll take off my jersey whenever I want, motherfucker. I don't care if it's only the fourth inning. Babes came to see the gun show, Farrell"

People much, much smarter, thinner, and better-looking than me do not believe 2013 was a fluke season. Below are Nava’s 2014 projections, according to the Bill James Handbook:

121 games, .285/.377/.435, 28 2B, 11 HR, 59 RBI, 66 RS

Those projected numbers are valuable to a team who could lose a top five first-baseman (Napoli) and lost their starting centerfielder (Ellsbury). If Napoli leaves, heavy playing time for Nava is a superior option to a strict Middlebrooks/Carp platoon. With Ellsbury gone, Jackie Bradley, Jr. is the probable everyday centerfielder. If he struggles again, however, Nava’s flexibility allows him to play right field, with Victorino moving to center. Even if Bradley, Jr. is ready to be the centerfielder for the next decade, Victorino played in 122 games last season, and with him reaching his mid-30’s and his aggressive style that leads to injuries, Nava could still be needed in right field for extended stretches.

Nava’s value – in terms of offense, defensive flexibility, and team friendly contract status – is obvious. As mentioned above, though, this post stems from Nava’s demotion in the playoffs in favor of Jonny Gomes. The public consensus seemed to be that Gomes was better suited for the postseason; you know, “more clutch” and other assorted bullshit sports talk radio phrases. And while I love Gomes and what he brings to the Sox, the numbers just do not support him being
demonstrably better than Nava.

Nava’s 2013 Postseason: .200/.286/.240, 1 2B, 2 RBI

Gomes’s 2013 Postseason: .167/.255/.286, 2 2B, I HR, 5 RBI

So, while neither was lighting the world on fire at the plate, one of the best left-handed hitters in the game in 2013 rode the bench against right-handed aces like Verlander, Scherzer, Wainwright, and Wacha. It was an odd development that went largely unexplained by John Farrell or Ben Cherrington.

However, when the final result is winning the World Series, it is tough to argue with the process. Gomes’s energy was infectious, and his three-run home run in Game 4 of the World Series may have well been the biggest hit of that series. I just hope the final weeks of 2013 do not bleed into 2014. Nava is far too good for that.

So, here’s to Nava’s quietly superb 2013 and similarly promising 2014. To celebrate, a round of medium iced regular coffee’s with no milk, on me. You can take care of the tip.

"If I keep producing big hits like this, there's no way they can put me on the bench in October, right?"

The Ballad of Forgotten Middle-Relievers: In Praise of Tazawa & Workman

After talking with fellow Red Sox fans, reading literally dozens of articles, and watching talking heads, both locally and nationally, I have compiled a concrete, precise, scientifically-based list of the individuals most often credited as being responsible for the team’s World Series championship:

1. David Ortiz
2. Jon Lester
3. Koji Uehara
4. Dustin Pedroia
5. Johnny Gomes
6. Mike Napoli
7. John Lackey
8. Xander Bogaerts
9. Steve Horgan, the bullpen cop
10. Jacoby Ellsbury
11. Tigers Bullpen
12. David Ross
13. Kolten Wong
14. Stephen Drew Sucks!

…

Tied 108. Brandon Workman and Junichi Tazawa

There. Remember, those rankings are scientifically proven and verified. So, how are these significant contributions of these two middle relievers for a world champion flying so far under the radar? Usually, Sox fans pride themselves on rooting for roster spots 21-25 just as hard as they root for Ortiz, Pedroia, and Lester. Dave Roberts and Doug Mirabelli achieved cult hero status in this city, but Workman and Tazawa have largely been ignored, by both fans and media. Why? Well, it could be due to both being relatively fresh faces prior to the postseason.

Tazawa had pitched 72.1 major league innings prior to the 2013 season, with 44 of those innings coming on a 2012 team most fans have blocked from memory. Workman made his big league debut on July 10, one day before the All-Star break. Without their combined 16 innings pitched in 16 postseason games, though, the Sox likely fall short of winning the World Series. They were that great.

Now, just how great were they? Well, I could just post their respective postseason pitching lines, click “publish”, and get back to binge watching Don’t Trust the B on Netflix. You, the reader, would fully understand their greatness and be spared 1,500 unnecessary words. But that would not be fun for anybody, despite my love for prematurely cancelled sitcoms. So, let’s just get nice and comfy on the couch, cue up some old Scrubs on Netflix, and doff our caps to Workman & Tazawa.

Though I will explore each pitcher’s resume individually, I will post their respective pitching lines below as a frame of reference. You will see these numbers repeated throughout:

Tazawa: 13 appearances, 7.1 IP, 1.23 ERA, 0.955 WHIP

Workman: 7 appearances, 8.2 IP, 0.00 ERA, 1.154 WHIP

“They were impressive as hell, Alan” you’re all exclaiming. “You’ve made your point. I am sorry I ever ignored their contributions. Now leave us alone and go watch your dumb sitcom.” If only it were that easy, reader(s). To demonstrate their high levels of impressiveness (might not be a word?), let’s compare their performances to the middle relievers of the 2004 and 2007 World Series teams.

In 2004, Mike Myers, Alan Embree, Mike Timlin, and Curtis Leskanic bridged the gap to Keith Foulke. While we all have a totally understandable tendency to romanticize every member of the 2004 team (Pokey Reese was the best defensive infielder of all time! Gabe Kapler was the strongest player in baseball history! Ricky Guiterrez was a borderline All-Star!), the postseason middle-relief was subpar, with Embree being the sole consistent performer. Here are the lines for those four main guys:

	Appearances	Innings Pitched	ERA	WHIP
Embree	11 (including six out of seven games in ALCS)	7.1	2.45	1.636
Timlin	9	11.2 (surrendered 15 hits)	6.17	1.889
Myers	5	2.2	10.13	2.625
Leskanic	3	2.2	10.13	2.250

Those are some fairly miserable numbers, especially when compared with 2013. So, how did the Red Sox manage to make this long-haired, Boston University sophomore with a chin strap (Ugh. I apologize to everyone who looked at my face from 2004-2005) so happy that autumn, despite their middle relief? The answer, simply, is Keith Foulke’s brilliance.

Overall, Foulke appeared in 11 out of a possible 14 games. He pitched 14 innings, surrendered only seven hits, struck out 19, and posted a 1.07 WHIP. Against the Yankees, he appeared in five games, pitched six innings, and compiled a 0.00 ERA and a 1.167 WHIP. In the World Series, he pitched in all four games, struck out nearly two batters per inning, and posted a 1.000 WHIP. Fucking. Insane.

Even more impressively, however, is the fact he threw 100 pitches exactly over three days in Games 4, 5, and 6 of the ALCS. That season, his previous high for pitches thrown in three games in three consecutive days was 59. While Papelbon and Koji submitted their own lights-out performances - see below - Foulke’s 2004 was special. For the sheer volume of high pressure pitches against arguably the two best lineups in baseball that year (Yankees and Cardinals) and the dominant results, Foulke deserves his own 2,500 word nerd fawning. And someday, we’ll get there.

Foulke deserves thousands of words for this moment alone.

In 2007, Hideki Okajima, Javier Lopez, Manny Delcarmen, and Timlin got the team to Jonathan Papelbon.

Unike 2004, the 2007 postseason featured two effective middle-relievers,  Timlin and Okajima.

	Appearances	Innings Pitched	ERA	WHIP
Okajima	8	11 (11 K’s)	2.45	1.090
Timlin	6	5.2	3.18	0.529
Delcarmen	6	4.1	8.31	2.538
Lopez	5	2.1	15.75	3.429

As you can see, Okajima was sensational. And those numbers alone do not truly capture his vital work in  Game 7 of the ALCS.  After Daisuke Matzsuaka struggled through five innings, Okajima entered the sixth inning of 3-2 game. The Sox had built a 3-0 lead, but the Indians had chipped away with single runs in the fourth and fifth, respectively. Okajima entered and pitched two scoreless innings. The Sox proceeded to score eight runs  after Okajima departed, and he picked up the Win.

Who could forget Okajima perfecting the no-look pitch?

While Timlin pitched poorly in 2004, his performance 2007 postseason performance, at age 41, was sensational, especially in the ALCS. His final line versus the Indians:

3 appearances, 3.1 IP, O.00 ERA, 0.300 WHIP, Retired 10 of 11 batters faced

With 2004 and 2007 reviewed properly, we can get back to business. I apologize for getting lost along the way.

First, the remarkable postseason of Junichi Tazawa, aka Miguel Cabrera’s Arch Nemesis. His final line, again:

13 appearances, 7.1 IP, 0.00 ERA, 1.154 ERA

And at closer examination he was at his best, arguably, in the World Series:

5 appearances, 1.23 ERA, 0.857 WHIP, Retired seven of nine batters faced.

To further illustrate Tazawa’s effectiveness and importance, below are four games he entered with runners on base and how he fared in each:

Game 3 vs. Detroit, Bottom 8th, Sox lead 1-0, Runners on 1st and 3rd, 1 out  –

Strikes out Cabrera on four pitches. Koji comes on to get the four out save.

Game 5 vs. Detroit, Bottom 6th, Sox lead 4-2, Runners on 1st and 3rd, 1 Out -

After giving up back-to-back singles to Jose Iglesias and Torii Hunter, he gets Cabrera to hit into the 6-4-3 double play. Breslow comes in and strikes out Fielder to end the inning.

Game 6 vs. Detroit, Top 7th, Tigers lead 2-1, Runner on 2nd, 2 Outs –

Induces a Cabrera ground out, 6-3, keeping it a one run game. In the next half inning, Victorino’s grand slam will give Tazawa the Win in the series clincher.

Game 6 vs. St. Louis, Top 7th, Sox lead 6-1, Bases Loaded, 2 Outs –

Induces an Allen Craig groundout to first base. To me, this was the game’s big out. It’s easy to look back at the out as fate accompli – of course the Cardinals final hapless rally to stay in the series would fail. But it did not feel that way in the moment. The Cardinals had just knocked Lackey from the game. At the Draft in Allston, where I had temporarily relocated from my couch, the mood was tense, replacing the air of wonderful, championship inevitably that was present at the start of the inning. The joyous, boozey celebration had turned silent. On a 1-0 pitch, Craig hit a hard, but playable, ground ball to Napoli at first. Tazawa raced to the bag, received the underhanded flip from Napoli, and the game, season, and World Series was never again in doubt.

There it is. Four games. Five batters faced with runners on base. Five HUGE outs. Two outs vs. Miguel Cabrera, the two-time defending MVP, who during the 2012-2013 seasons averaged .338/.419/.620, 44 HR, and 138 RBI. And the biggest out of the deciding game of the World Series.

Waiting patiently on the couch while we examined Tazawa is the perfect work of Brandon Workman, a rookie who compiled a 4.97 ERA in 41.2 IP in the regular season. 

Again, Workman’s postseason numbers:

7 appearances, 8.2 IP, 0.00 ERA, 1.154 WHIP

While Tazawa dominated in the World Series, in addition to the big Cabrera outs in the ALCS, Workman was at his best in the ALCS. His ALCS line:

3 appearances, 4.2 IP, 0.00 ERA, 0.857 WHIP

Of those three appearances, his 1.2 IP in Game 6 proved most crucial and spectacular. How spectacular, none of you are asking? Well, in an already needlessly long post, let’s dive a bit further down the nerd rabbit hole.

As a reminder:

After 4.5 scoreless innings, the Sox broke through in the fifth when Ellsbury’s two-out single scored Bogaerts from second. The Sox took this 1-0 lead into the sixth inning, but that is when things fell apart for Clay Buchholz. After a leadoff walk to Torii Hunter, Cabrera singled, and Prince Fielder walked on four pitches. With the no outs and the based loaded, Farrell turned, inexplicably, to Franklin Morales, who promptly surrendered a two-run, wall-ball single to Victor Martinez. It would be the only batter Morales faced the entire postseason.

Farrell then pulled for Morales, I asked “What the fuck just happened?” to those seated on or near the couch I was positioned on in Watertown, and Workman took the ball. We all took a deep breath and a sip of Jameson & Coke. You know what? That worked so well, let’s do the same right now before we proceed, shall we? I’ll give you a few seconds. How’d it go down? Smooth, right? Okay, back to the game.

Workman entered with no outs, runners on first and third, the Sox down a run, and what felt like the increasingly likely, if not downright inevitable, prospect of facing Justin Verlander in Game 7.  The 25 year old rookie made it look it easy, if not entirely conventional.

On a 0-1 pitch, Workman got Peralta to ground weakly to Pedroia for what looked for certain like a 4-6-3 double play that would allow Fielder to score the Tiger’s third run. Fielder, however, pulled a Jeff Suppan and stopped halfway down the line. Pedroia, seeing Fielder’s indecisive, corn-rowed deer in the headlights impression, alertly tagged the baserunner Martinez and threw home. Calling what happened next a “run” down would be a bit hyperbolic. Instead, let’s say Saltalamacchia got Fielder in a “brisk jog” down before applying the tag near the third base bag. You know, just your standard 4-2-5 double play to keep it a one-run game in Game 6 of the ALCS. Bizarre? Of course. Fluky? Probably. Awesome? Hell yeah. What should be not lost, however, is Workman induced the groundball from Peralta, who had been hitting .300 in the series coming into that at-bat. In a situation that absolutely demanded a strikeout or groundball, Workman got a groundball that resulted in a double play.

After the bacchanalia on the Fenway base paths, Workman struck out Alex Avila to end the sixth, and proceeded to record the first two outs of the seventh before being pulled. Just how game-saving, and potentially season-saving, was Workman’s outing? According to Baseball-Reference, the Red Sox wWE (Winning Team Win Expectancy) was 20% when Workman entered the game. Seven outs after he was removed, the Sox won the American League pennant.

So, another sip of Jameson in Workman’s honor. What? You’re all out. Oh, well, I guess I will have to take two, maybe three, to even things out. I’m cool with that, but I think you might have a drinking problem.

******

I believe it is fairly clear that Tazawa and Workman were the two best middle-relievers of the Sox’s three 21st century World Series championships. If it’s not clear, then I have done a poor job making my case. I blame the Jameson, but I still think it’s you that has the problem.

Their respective final numbers were phenomenal. And beyond the final stats, each recorded high pressure outs with runners on base and the games very much hanging in the balance. Stat geeks and casual fans alike should be hailing their efforts for years.

Not to be forgotten is the great ALDS work of Craig Breslow, Felix Doubront’s superb efforts in Game 4 of the World Series, and, of course, Koji’s bat shit crazy good performance throughout the postseason.

But it is to the forgotten brilliance of Tazawa & Workman that we tip our glasses. L'Chaim! Ooph. That tasted bitter. That might have been one too many. I'll be fine. I just need some fresh air. Does anyone have the number for Dominos?

P.S.

Just for fun, Koji’s postseason numbers:

11 appearances, 7 saves, 13.2 IP, 16 K’s, 0 Walks, 0.66 ERA, 0.512 WHIP, Retired 39 of 46 batters faced (85.8%)

P.P.S.

Just for slightly less fun, but still fun nonetheless, Papelbon’s 2007 postseason numbers:

7 appearances, 10.2 IP, 0.00 ERA, 0.844 WHIP, Retired 36 of 45 batters (80%)