Wednesday, November 27, 2013

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%)

Monday, November 18, 2013

The Case for Salty


First off, the “Case for Salty” is a pretty decent title for a 1940’s detective novel. Interested authors should contact my non-existent attorney to negotiate rights for its usage.
 
Secondly, Saltalamacchia is too long to type dozens of times throughout the post. Instead, I will be referring to him as Salty. As much as I deplore referring to a grown man I have never met by his nickname, I find it preferable to referring to him by his first name. For whatever reasons, that feels much creepier. So, Salty it is. Now, let’s get down to the business of nerding-out, free-agent style.



Intro: In their bizarre rush to push Salty out of town, the Felger’s of the media, as they so often do, are ignoring the huge sample size of the regular season and choosing to focus solely on the small postseason sample size. More precisely, they are focusing on the even smaller ALCS and World Series sample size, because Salty posted a .300/.367/.400 in the ALDS, which ruins their “choked” narrative. True, he was dismal at the plate against Detroit and St. Louis. Like, .136/.208/.136 dismal. While he did drive in the winning run against in Game 2 of the ALCS, his decision to throw to the third base in Game 3 of the World Series was so obviously misguided that fans throughout New England were screaming “No” even as he cocked back his right arm. Of course, these poor performances come on the heels of a fantastic regular season in which he posted an .804 OPS and 118 OPS+ (I will repeat those again and again and, surprise, again!). What these rambling mean is that Salty, like all players not named Mike Trout, has good and bad traits.
The Numbers: .804 OPS! 118 OPS+. I warned you.
Salty is coming off a year in which he set career highs in Games Played, At-Bats, Walks, Hits, Runs Scored, RBI’s, Doubles, OBP, SLP, OPS, OPS+, and Batting Average. In his three seasons as an everyday catcher, EVERY SINGLE one of those numbers increased each season, with the exception of batting average. This indicates a player still improving and coming in to his own at 28. In 2013, Salty’s offensive prowess ranked him in the following spots among MLB catchers with 400+ plate appearances:
  • 2nd in Doubles - 40
  • 4th in Slugging Percentage - .466
  • 5th in On-Base Plus Slugging - .804
  • 6th in On-Base Percentage - .338
  • 7th in Batting Average – .273
  • 7th in Pitches Per Plate Appearance – 4.03
  • 8th in Walks - 43
  • 9th in Runs Batted In - 65
  • 10th in WAR – 2.9 (4th in the American League)

Salty, by most statistical measures, was a top 5 American League catcher, and a top 5-10 catcher in all of baseball. This makes him a borderline All-Star, if not outright deserving of the recognition. In fact, Salvador Perez, the Kansas City Royals backstop who was selected as an AL All-Star reserve, posted a .292/.323./.433 line, with an 88 OPS+. Salty, in case I have yet to beat this into the ground, posted a .273/.338/.466, with an 118 OPS+.
But those solid numbers are what he has produced, so it is natural to project Salty's production going forward. In turns out, a solid offensive career comparison is Jason Varitek, The C (Ugh). Let’s compare their seasons at ages 26, 27, and 28. First, Salty’s’s numbers the past three seasons:
Age 26 (2011): 103 GC, .235/.288/.450, 95 OPS+,  23 Doubles, 16 HR, 56 RBI 24 BB, 1.0 WAR
Age 27 (2012): 121 GC, .228/.288/.454, 97 OPS+. 17 Doubles, 25 HR, 59 RBI, 38 BB, 1.4 WAR
Age 28 (2013): 121 GC, .273/.338/.466, 118 OPS+, 40 Doubles, 14 HR, 65 RBI, 43 BB, 2.9 WAR
Next, are Varitek’s seasons at 26, 27, and 28, followed by his 29, 30, and 31 seasons, which would cover the presumed length of Salty's prospective  deal:
Age 26 (1998): 75 GC,  .253/.309/.407, 83 OPS+, 13 Doubles, 7 HR, 33 RBI, 17 BB, 0.0 WAR
Age 27 (1999): 144 GC, .269/.330/.482, 101 OPS+, 39 Doubles, 20 HR, 76 RBI, 46 BB, 2.0 WAR
Age 28 (2000): 128 GC, .248/.342/.388, 83 OPS+, 31 Doubles, 10 HR, 65 RBI, 60 BB, 1.2 WAR
Age 29 (2001): 50 GC, .293/.371/.489, 124 OPS+, 11 Doubles, 7 HR, 25 RBI, 21 BB, 1.4 WAR
Age 30 (2002): 127 GC, .266/.332/.392, 90 OPS+, 27 Doubles, 10 HR, 61 RBI, 41 BB, 2.1 WAR
Age 31 (2003): 137 GC, .273/.351/.512, 120 OPS+, 31 Doubles, 25 HR, 85 RBI, 51 BB. 3.0 WAR
As you can see, the offensive trajectory is similar, with Salty actually approaching his peak with better numbers in some categories. Varitek’s 2001 season (at age 29) was off to a tremendous start before he suffered a season ending injury in early June. Otherwise, his 29-31 seasons saw him become of the game’s best offensive catchers, with his peak actually coming in 2004,  at age 32 (.296/.390/.482, 121 OPS+, 18 HR).  Neither had, or likely will have, the pinnacle of Brian McCann, but Salty, like Varitek approaching his prime, racked up extra base hits and got on base at impressive rates.
The Intangibles: Media and fans love to harp on “Does this guy have what it takes to play in Boston?” I think it’s bullshit to neatly and quickly explain why a player is not playing well without having to do actual, you know, reporting and research (see: Renteria, Edgar). My feelings aside, Salty showed he can play every day in Boston, be it on a 69-win mess or a World Series champion. He hit 25 home runs amid 2012’s Valentine circus and the followed it with a career year in 2013. He caught three out of every four games during the regular season. And after being sent to the bench for the final three games of the World Series, television cameras consistently showed him being the first out of the dugout to greet pitchers and David Ross, his replacement. From the outside, which is the closest I will ever get , Salty appears to be a tough, steady, and encouraging teammate.
The Alternative: Brian McCann is the most-oft mentioned replacement for Salty. Brian McCann is great, and has been great for nearly a decade. Baseball Prospectus lists him as this offseason’s fourth best free agent. He has produced a career line of .277/.350/.473, a 117 OPS+, won five Silver Slugger Awards, been named to seven All-Star games, and hit 20+ home runs seven times in nine seasons. His greatness is not doubt. What is in doubt, however, is how long his greatness will last. Only one year older than Salty, he has caught nearly 1,100 games, more than twice as many as Salty. The signs of regression are starting to show. After catching an obscene 143 games in 2010, he has games caught have decreased to 128, 121, and 102 over the past three seasons. Since posting a tremendous .896 OPS in 2008, he has past five seasons have gone: .834, .828, .817, .698, .796.
In fact, McCann’s offensive production, while still strong, has decreased across the board since his ridiculous 2008 performance.
2008: .301/.373/.523/, 135 OPS+, 153 Hits, 42 Doubles
2009: .281/.349/.486, 119 OPS+, 137 Hits, 35 Doubles

2010: .269/.375/.453, 124 OPS+, 129 Hits, 25 Doubles

2011: .270/.351/.466, 122 OPS+, 126 Hits, 19 Doubles
2012: .230/.300/.399, 87 OPS+, 101 Hits, 14 Doubles

2013: .256/.336/.461, 115 OPS+, 91 Hits, 13 Doubles
The downward trends suggest an offensive player who is appearing in fewer games, getting on-base with decreased frequency, and hitting for less power. And again, even if he moves to DH in years four and five of his contract, those 1,400-1,500 games caught do not come off his legs.And while I loathe using the postseason as the primary measuring stick, McCann has gone for 0-13 with .058 OPS in his past two postseasons. McCann’s best seasons, and best legs, appear behind him.
McCann just seems like  a dick. 
It should be obvious that the two in-house alternatives - David Ross and Ryan Lavarnway - are not worth discussing as the primary catching option.
To be fair to McCann, there is precedent for catcher’s hitting well in their 34 year old season, which would be the final season of a presumed five year contract. In 2006, Jorge Posada caught 134 games and posted a .277/.374/.492, with a 122 OPS+, 23 HR’s, 93 RBI’s, and 4.0 WAR. But he also caught his 1,100 game that year, a number McCann will hit early in his 30 year old season. A more apt comparison for age 34 might be Ivan Rodriguez. In 2006, he caught 123 games, hit 13 HR’s, and posted a .769 OPS, while catching his 1,900 game. Pretty good, but is it worth $16 million a year? And if those are the numbers for a DH, which several people claim is McCann’s position by the end of a five year deal, those numbers are abysmal.
Carlos Ruiz, the consensus third best free agent catcher, appears poised to re-up with the Phillies for three years/$25 million.
Verdict:   Do you want the Red Sox to invest five-to-six seasons, 100+ million for a 30 year old catcher, with declining offensive performance, and 1,100 games on his legs? I do not. To me, three seasons for a 28 year old catcher with improving offensive performance and 515 games on his legs is considerably more appealing. The Sox should offer Salty three years/$30 million. In the ideal situation, Ross would return as the backup and start 40-45 games. Then, in 2015, Christian Vasquez, touted as a can’t-miss prospect, assumes the backup duties, before ultimately becoming the starter in 2016 or 2017. It is a transition that does not: 1.) require a huge investment of years, or 2.) rushing a prospect before he is ready. That is a win-win for the Sox.
Again, do not remember Salty primarily for a subpar ALCS and World Series. Over a full regular season, which, you know, is how a team qualifies for the postseason, he is an average defensive catcher & game caller, and a plus offensive catcher. Admittedly, when pitcher’s get to two strikes on Salty, I have zero confidence there will be a result other than a strikeout. In addition, and perhaps most damningly, Salty had a .376 BABIP in 2013, fourth highest in baseball and probably not sustainable. That’s the bad. But the good - .800 OPS, 45-55 extra base hits, lengthy at-bats, steadily increasing production from a player approaching his peak, and durability throughout the looonnnggg regular season – is very good. The Sox should expect Varitek-approaching-his-prime like offensive production, for short years and reasonable money. Sign him. Besides, we're not ready to say goodbye to these kind of joyful strokes: