Signing Grady Sizemore: Low Risk, Potential High Rewards, and Dong Shots

A quick take on the Sox signing Grady "How Many Days Into Spring Training Before Shaughnessy Makes An Awful Grady Little Joke" Sizemore...

Grady Sizemore? More like Grady Size- um, yeah, I got nothing. At least nothing Deadspin didn't cover in 2009: Adult Male Selfie Alert

As you know by now, the Sox signed Sizemore to a one-year deal for $750,000. With incentives, the deal could reach $6 million. Not bad for a guy who was out of baseball in 2012 and 2013. However, if you go back 4-5 years, it's about $15-20 million less than you would have expected Sizemore to be making in his age 31 season. Just how good was he?

From 2005-2008, Sizemore was one of the best players in baseball, a crazy combination of speed, power, patience, and durability. In each of those four seasons he posted at least a 123 OPS+ each season, with two seasons of a 133 OPS+. During that same time span, he played in 157, 162, 162, and 158 games, respectively. His average season during those four years:

116 Runs Scored, 180 Hits, 41 Doubles, 8 Triples, 27 Home Runs, 81 RBI, 29 Stolen Bases, 85 walks

He won a Silver Slugger, earned two Gold Gloves, and played in three All-Star games. Like I wrote: Power. Speed. Patience. Durability. Dong shots.

So, what happened? Injuries, man. Fucking injuries. Both a groin and left arm injury in 2009. A knee injury in 2010. Another knee injury in 2011. Yet another knee injury in 2012. Surgeries and rehab galore. Sizemore played in only 106 games in 2009, hitting 18 HR with a 110 OPS+. Still an above average player, but certainly a fall off from his peak. His games played dropped to 33 in 2010 and 71 in 2011. And finally, zero games in 2012 and 2013.

Sizemore's recent history suggests this will not be 2005-2008, but it could be 2009. Would that be so bad? Obviously, nobody knows how the season will play out, but just for today it's exciting. A big name that was on a HOF path four years ago? For mid-January, I'll take it.

I like the deal, especially for the money. Worst case scenario, Sizemore has nothing left and the Sox outfield consists of Bradley, Victorino, Nava, and Gomes. Best case scenario, they bought low on a guy with superior talent who is still young. I think they are fine, no matter the scenario that plays out. With Ellsbury and (likely) Drew gone, AJ Pierzysnski being an aging dick, and Troy O' Leary well into retirement, the team could use a left-handed bat with some pop. Good deal. Welcome to Boston, Grady. Just keep the iPhone away from mirrors.

One Summer: John Valentin's 1995, or The Chicken Parm of Seasons

The New England winter is long, unforgiving, and devoid of ways to fill your time that don’t involve staring unblinkingly and emotionless into the abyss of this futile and pointless folly you call your existence. Plus, you know, it’s slushy and yucky outside. To proactively keep back the misery, I will turn your attention to the sun-drenched, Sox-filled summers of our faded youth with the weekly feature One Summer. For the next month, I will look back on tremendous individual seasons from Sox players whose careers were not consistently All-Stat level, but still produced one outstanding summer in Boston. Remember, just by reading it, you’ll be about 5-10 minutes closer to spring. You are welcome.

One Summer players: John Valentin (1995), Reggie Jefferson (1996), 

Brian Daubach (1999),  Bill Mueller (2003

First Up: John Valentin (1995) 

Look at that: the uppercut swing, the cheesy 90's stache, the superior away jersey. Amazing.

Memories & Career

On Sunday, August 2, 1992, I attended my first Red Sox game at Fenway. The Sox fell to the Baltimore Orioles, 2-1, with Ben McDonald defeating John Dopson. I ate my first Fenway Frank. I learned how to keep the book. And being the early 1990’s, I’m sure I wore an awful combination of flannel, LA Gear, and Bugle Boy jean shorts.

My dad and I sat about 30 rows behind the first base dugout, a decade before Green Monster seats blocked the mid-afternoon sun. As a result, we did not get a clear look at Leo Gomez’s 7th inning home run over the Monster that gave the Orioles a 1-0 lead. Much of the rest of the day blends together, though, as 22 year old memories occasionally do. I don’t remember Tony Pena’s RBI double that brought home Scott Cooper to tie the game in the 7th. And I don’t remember Cal Ripken’s RBI single that scored Brady Anderson a half-inning later to put the O’s on top for good. But that doesn’t matter, because it was it my first Sox game. They could have lost 38-0 and I would still remember it as one of the greatest, sunniest days of my life. How could I not? However, there is another reason I remember that day so fondly.  

In addition to being my first game, it also happened to be the first MLB start for John Valentin, who played short and batted ninth (between Tony Pena and Wade Boggs). Facing the former No. 1 overall pick McDonald, Valentin went 1-2, walked twice, and was stranded on third as the tying run when Tom Brunansky flied out* with the based loaded to CF Mike Deveraux to end the game.

*I do remember Brunansky pinch-hitting for Mo Vaughn. When he was announced, a man a few rows behind the dugout stood and unfurled a white sheet with “Bruno” written in red. My dad had to explain the sign’s significance. Bruno worked the count full (that, I had to research) before flying out to the warning track, which brought the 33, 637 (again, I had to research) to their feet in hopeful excitement, before our spirits were crushed by the ball dropping harmlessly into Deveraux’s glove. It did little to tarnish my day, but I faked disappoint as I joined the Sox faithful in shuffling out of the park dejectedly. Meanwhile, the Sox shuffled dejectedly to a last-place 73-89 record.

Following the game, Valentin went onto have a productive 11 year career that included three trips to the postseason, a league-leading 47 doubles in 1997, and more than $32 million in career earnings.  

I went home and listened to my younger brother cry himself to sleep, because I went to the game instead of him. Four weeks later, I began a productive, workmanlike year in Mrs. Walker’s 2nd grade class at Hartford Avenue Elementary School.

It’s safe to say our fates will forever be linked to that early 90’s Sunday at Fenway. Unfortunately, our paths diverged almost immediately, and it’s hard to say who’s proved more fortuitous. It is a matter of opinion, I guess. I mean, some people are into fame, fortune, and fulfilling a lifelong dream; me, I was more about mastering learning passing Hooked-On Phonics and Plymouth Plantation field trips.

"Christ, Andrew, just get on with you stupid f***ing post. Damnit."

While Valentin probably never recovered from the disappointment of not attending Plymouth Plantation, he managed somehow to pick up the pieces and become a solid contributor on some very good Sox teams. Career, Valentin posted a .279/.360/.454 line, with 124 HR, and a 109 OPS+ (100 is considered league average). In three seasons, he clubbed more than 40 doubles. Valentin began his career with seven straight seasons of at least 101 OPS+, with three seasons of at least a 124 OPS+. After starting nearly 600 games at SS, he moved to second base upon Nomar’s arrival in 1997, where he started more than 80 games. He then moved to third base, where he played nearly 400 games. Twice he led all AL position players in Defensive WAR, and finished third and fourth, respectively, in two other seasons. He was an above average, and occasionally great, player for nearly a decade.

In three postseason trips – 1995, 1998, and 1999 – Valentin was outstanding. In 17 games, he compiled 25 hits, 5 HR, 19 RBI, and an overall line of .347/.407/.639. Valentin tortured the Indians in the 1999 ALDS, totaling 18 bases in the five games, while hitting 3 HR and 12 RBI.

Valentin also forever earned a unique place in baseball history with the simple act of fielding a soft line drive.  On July 8, 1994, he turned an unassisted triple play versus the Mariners. In the sixth inning, with nobody out and the runners on first and second off with the pitch, Marc Newfield lined the ball to Valentin, who touched second base to force out Mike Blowers, and then tagged out Keith Mitchell, who was caught up between first and second. It was the first AL unassisted triple play since 1968, and only one of 15 turned in MLB history. I was watching it from Richard’s Italian Restaurant in Milford while enjoying their chicken parmesan. Sure, Valentin’s unassisted triple play was great, but for a reformed fat kid to still remember one of thousands of dinners over a 20 year period, well, you know it had to be spectacular.

I’m sorry, fellow couch dwellers, where were we? Oh yes, Valentin. Offensively, he got on base at a high rate and hit for power, while defensively he had a very good glove and the versatility to play all four infield positions. He was a force in three postseasons. But it was in 1995 that he produced his greatest summer. I guess you could say that for one summer he was the chicken parmesan of players.  I mean, you could say that, in the way that theoretically you could say almost anything, but I’d probably hold off on saying it right now. It’s your call. I’m just looking out for you.

1995

1995 was a magical year. Will Ferrell made his SNL debut. America received the answer to the question,
“Who shot Mr. Burns?” A 10 year old Andrew Felper played his first season of Hopedale Youth Baseball (the first year of live pitching!). And John Valentin became one of baseball’s best overall players.

Coming into the 1995 season*, Valentin had certainly showed the potential to be a great offensive player. In 1993, his first full season, he played 144 games, hitting .278, with 11 HR and 40 Doubles. During the strike-shortened 1994 season, he posted a .905 OPS and a 129 OPS+.

*Due to the prolonged 1994 work stoppage, MLB played a reduced 144 game schedule in 1995.

In 1995, however, John Valentin exploded onto the scene.  He finished ninth in the MVP voting. He led all AL position players in WAR. He led all MLB shortstops in Defensive WAR. He won a Silver Slugger. He hit three home runs in a game.

Batting ahead of Jose Canseco (24 HR, 81 RBI, .933 OPS) and Mo Vaughn (AL MVP, 39 HR, 126 RBI, .963 OPS), Valentin put together the following campaign for the fourth highest scoring team in baseball:

27 HR, 102 RBI, 37 2B, 20 SB, .298/.399/.533, 138 OPS+

His name could be found in the Top 10 of several AL categories:

• 2nd – WAR (8.3 - 1st among position players. Randy Johnson led league)
• 4th – Doubles (37)
• 6th – Runs Scored (108)
• 6th – HBP (10)
• 9th – Extra Base Hits (66)
• 9th – Total Bases (277)

In WAR, he finished ahead of Edgar Martinez, Albert Belle, David Cone, Bernie Williams, and Jim Thome, among others. Vaughn, 1995’s AL MVP, did not even crack the Top 10.

And for all his impressive feats at the plate, he was just as outstanding in the field. He finished with the best defensive WAR of any SS in baseball, and the best overall among AL position players, ahead of Ripken, Ivan Rodriguez, and Jim Edmonds.

• 2nd - Double Plays Turned at SS
• 2nd-  Putouts at SS
• 4th -  Assists
• 4th -  Range Factors at SS

As mentioned above, Valentin’s 1995 season included a three home run game.  On June 2 at Fenway, he hit three solo home runs versus the Mariners. For the day, Valentin went 5-5, with a single and a double to go along with the three solo shots. He had 15 total bases, to go along with 3 RBI and 4 RS. The Sox won 6-5 in 10 innings when Mike Greenwell singled home Mo Vaughn.

The Red Sox went 86-58, which projects to 97 wins in a 162 game season. They won the AL East before being swept by the Indians in the ALDS, being outscored 17-6 in the three games. Canseco and Vaughn were a combined 0-27 with three walks. It was brutal. Valentin, however, finished his 1995 season as the one of the team’s few offensive bright spots, hitting a home run and posting a .983 OPS.

As mentioned above, he finished ninth in the AL MVP voting. A reasonable argument can be made that Valentin finished too low in the voting – seriously, he finished behind Jose Mesa and Jay Buhner. His remarkable contributions at the plate and in the field on a near daily basis (played 135 of 144 games) for a playoff team should have placed him in the top 5, along with Albert Belle, who should have won, and Randy Johnson, Edgar Martinez, and Vaughn.

Click on the link for the voting and the player’s stats: http://www.baseball-reference.com/awards/awards_1995.shtml#ALmvp

Did you see it? Seriously, Jose Mesa?

So, Valentin did not win the MVP, but, at the very least, he was baseball’s best overall shortstop in 1995, and that includes that season’s NL MVP, Barry Larkin. For that one season, Valentin one of the game’s 7-10 best players. 1995 was good to John Valentin.

What Happened Next

While Valentin posted a couple more solid seasons, including 1997 (league leading 47 doubles, career high 176 hits, 18 HR, 70 Extras Base Hits, .871 OPS) and 1998 (23 HR and a career high 153 games played), he never matched his borderline-MVP season of 1995. On May 30, 2000, Valentin blew out his ACL diving to his left for a ground ball at third base. He missed the rest of the season, and played only 20 games in the Sox’s disastrous (see: Lansing, Mike; Bichette, Dante; Kerrigan, Joe) in 2001. Prior to the 2002 season, Valentin signed with Mets. He appeared in 114 games, hitting 3 HR and posting a .695 OPS. He retired following that season. In 2013, he spent his first season as the Dodgers assistant hitting coach. This was a fact I became aware of only when the Sox played the Dodgers in late August. I was pounding  crying in to sipping a White Russian, when the NESN camera panned the Dodgers dugout. Alertly, and not all slurring my words, I asked myself, as I was the only person in the room, “Hey, is that John Valentin in the Dodgers’ dugout?” Nothing gets past me, even if it takes nearly a full season for me to realize it.  I’m smart.

1995 saw Valentin emerge as the game’s best shortstop, if just for that one season. By 1997, he had been supplanted at that position by Nomar. However, his plate discipline, long, uppercut swing, willingness to play all over the field, and consistent postseason heroics endeared to him to this growing chubby husky fat little leaguer who loved to walk, hit balls far enough that he barely had to run, and play all over the infield.  And someday, hoping against hope, we’ll make that trip to Plymouth Plantation, together.

Bonus

Cape Cod Baseball League Valentin! The Seton Hall product spent Summer '88 with Hyannis. An Italian, Jersey-born power-hitting infielder after my own heart.

Is Curt Schilling a Hall-of-Famer? Yes. Pretty Easily, Actually. But You Should Keep Reading.



Curt Schilling seems like a dick. More to the point, he seems like the dick friend many of us have. You’re sitting around laughing and drinking, but he wants to start a conversation about abortion.  He puts a campaign sign on his front lawn, and he wants to know if you will do the same. He takes tens of millions of dollars from the State of Rhode Island for a company with little chance of succeeding. Come on, we all have this friend.

 

 

 Unlike most of our friends, though, Curt Schilling is a candidate for the Baseball Hall of Fame. Should he be inducted in 2014 2015?

 

 

When I first posed this question during a heated debate with myself, I believed Schilling’s HOF case was built largely around his remarkable postseason runs with Philadelphia, Arizona, and Boston. I also knew he pitched a large portion of his career with those astro-turf having, John Kruk-employing, god-awful Phillies teams of the 1990’s, which explains the lower than expected win total. Overall, I was expecting a very good, but not great regular season HOF resume.

As usual, I was wrong. His regular season success nearly matched his postseason brilliance.

"Right now, I'm just laying low. Me and my old lady are living out by the abandoned marble factory."

 

First, let’s get this out of the way: Detractors will point immediately to his 216 career Wins as too low for the HOF. To these strawmen, I say, you have to remember the shit situation in which Schilling pitched half his career. From 1992 - his first full season in Philadelphia - through 2000 - when he was traded at the deadline to Arizona - Schilling pitched for some truly awful Phillies teams. Aside from the 1993 team that won 97 games and the N.L. pennant, the Phillies posted the following win totals: 70, 54, 69, 67, 68, 75, 77, and 65.

 

 

Rather than have his regular season numbers take the form of my painful, drawn out prose, I will let them stand on their own:



 "We don't play none of that hippity hop music in my clubhouse, pal."

• 2^nd All-Time – 4.38 3 SO/BB Ratio
• 2x – Led league in Innings Pitched (268.2 in 1998, 256.2 in 2001)
• 10x –200+ Innings Pitched
• 2x – Led league in WHIP (0.990 in 1992, 0.968 in 2002)
• 11x – Finished in Top 6
• 2x – Led league in Wins (22 in 2001, 21 in 2004)
• 3x – Won 20 Games
• 3x – Led league in Games Started (35 each in 1997, 1998, 2001)
• 4x – Led league in CG, including 15 in 1998.
• 3x – Finished second in CG
• 5x – Led league SO/BB Ratio, including a ridiculous 9.58 in 2002
• 5x – Led league in Fielding % for pitchers
• 6x – All Star
• 12x- Finished Top 8 in the league in WAR for Pitchers
• 8.69 K/Per 9 Innings – 22^nd All-Time
• 3,116 Strikeouts – 15^th All-Time
• 1.137 WHIP (Career) – 31^st All-Time (Sandy Koufax’s career WHIP is 1.11)

And finally, the  Schilling regular season accomplishment that most shocked me…

• 3x – 300+ Strikeouts (319 in 1997, 300 in 1998, and 316 in 2002)

And just for good measure, he struck out 293 batters in 2001. Since World War II, Schilling, Nolan Ryan, and Randy Johnson are the only pitchers with three seasons of at least 300 strikeouts. Koufax did it twice. Pedro did it twice. Steve Carlton accomplished it once.

As you can see, Schilling took the damn ball and didn’t let it go. He struck out an obscene amount of hitters, while issuing few walks. Schilling managed to compile historically great numbers on pathetic teams, costing him a few dozen career wins. Most amazingly to me, though, is his two WHIP titles came exactly a decade apart. That is incredible sustained excellence.

For my personal anecdotal support, I saw Schilling pitch against the Red Sox on June 22, 1998 at Fenway. The Phillies, and first year manager Terry Francona, were on their way to a 75 win season, while the Sox would win 92 games and the Wild Card. From the start, Schilling was off and the Phillies trailed 8-3 after five innings. Schilling, however, battled (I’m petitioning Webster’s for the word “battled” to be replaced by the phrase “Jack Morris Induced Old White Sportswriter Boner”), going seven innings, and allowing his team to scratch back in the game. The Phillies would win 9-8 in 10 innings on a Gregg Jefferies RBI single off of Tom Gordon. Schilling did not factor in the decision and his final line was subpar (7 IP, 8 ER, 12 H, 10 K’s, O BB, 120 pitches), but he refused to concede the game. My dad and I talk about that performance to this day. It was that impactful. On a bad team that was going nowhere, he battled like it was the World Series. And of course, in the midst of that rough day at the office, he still did not issue any free passes. Damn impressive.

So, that was my “Bob Costas Memorial I Saw Him When I Was A Kid” take on Schilling. But how does his regular seasons fair from an advanced metrics perspective? Jay Jaffe’s JAWS Systems is widely considered the most accurate measure of a player’s HOF worthiness.  A player's JAWS is their career WAR averaged with their 7-year peak WAR. Schilling ranks 27^th all time among starting pitchers. He is ahead of such HOF enshrines as Tom Glavine, Jim Palmer, Juan Marichal, Don Drysdale, Jim Bunning, and Whitey Ford. Jack Morris ranks at 159.



In my correct opinion, Schilling is HOF-worthy, even if he never pitched an inning in the postseason. When it comes to Schilling, though, the conversation is not complete without discussing his postseason feats.  We know he was a monster in October, but just how next level was he? Let's review it briefly, just for fun...and to further drive home my argument in the most smug, annoying manner possible. Like I said, fun!


He won three rings between Arizona and Boston, and came within a Mitch Williams meltdown of winning a fourth in 1993 (Seriously, in Game 5 Schilling pitched a five-hit, CG shutout).   In 2001, he was World Series Co-MVP with Randy Johnson. In 2004, he was one of the main reasons Dan Shaughnessy can no longer collect residuals for “The Curse of the Bambino.”

Again, my words would not do justice to the numbers, so I will get out of the way and allow Schilling’s overall postseason resume speak for themselves:
 

19 Games Started, 11-2, 133.1 IP, 120 K’s, 4.8 K/BB Ratio, 0.968 WHIP

Breaking it down, Schilling average postseason start was seven innings, with almost five strikeouts for every walk, and less than a base runner per inning.

As amazing as those overall postseason numbers, his World Series numbers indicate he was even better in the Fall Classic:
 

7 Games Started, 4-1, 0.896 WHIP

And, to take it one step further, of his four World Series, his performance versus the Yankees in 2001 ranks among the all-time best for a pitcher:

3 Games Started, 1.69 ERA, 21.1 IP, 26 K, 2 BB, 0.656 WHIP

 

 

Good lord. He averaged more than a strikeout per inning, seven innings per start, and less than 2/3 of a base runner per inning. He posted an absurd 13.0 K/BB ratio and started what might be the most famous Game 7 in World Series history.

Those should be enough numbers. Schilling is arguably the greatest postseason pitcher in baseball history. His regular seasons were consistently great and downright dominant for eight or nine seasons. This makes him an easy, should-have-been first ballot HOF candidate. Here’s hoping he can rise above 29.2% in 2015.

But right now he wants to talk about the Affordable Care Act while we’re watching the Pats game. No, I haven’t checked out that website, Curt. I definitely will, buddy, but right now, I’m just trying to watch – What? Well, Hitler seems like a weird comparison, but – No, I don’t know what Sarah Palin said. You know what, I’m gonna go smoke a butt. No, you should stay here. Just yell out the window if they’re going to the Super Bowl. Thanks buddy.