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As the attentive reader will already know, rising NotGraphs star Dayn Perry commemorated — earlier today, in these very same pages — he commemorated America’s most important holiday (i.e. Repeal Day) by naming baseball’s All-Time All-Drinking Team.

That same attentive reader will also likely know that I, Carson Cistulli, rode Mr. Perry’s entirely fashionable coattails en route to my first post of the day, in which I submitted for the readership’s consideration the fruits of at least one or one-and-a-half minute’s worth of arduous research — namely, a video of the 1926 World Series featuring exactly two members of Perry’s All-Drinking Team.

Here, I’d like to consider briefly another of the All-Drinkers, Ryne Duren.

Duren is an interesting case for at least 11 reasons — some of which, owing to space and time restrictions, I’m unable to address.

Notably, Duren is distinct from most of the other names on this list in that he was active during a time when alcoholism began to be regarded not merely as the harmless pastime of rakes and/or roustabouts but rather as a real-live disease. In fact, the internet reveals to us that Duren (who’s still alive) not only outlived the worst of his drinking, but has gone on to serve as an alcohol abuse educator.

The internet also reveals to us that Duren was a showman, as the following passage suggests (and our own Erik Manning noted last year, too):

In those days the Yankee bullpen was a part of the short-porch right field and only a low chain link fence served as the boundary. When called upon by Casey Stengel to relieve, he wouldn’t use the gate, but preferred to hop the fence with one hand and begin a slow walk to the mound with his blue Yankee warm-up jacket covering his pitching arm; he followed this routine even on the hottest days. When he finally took the ball and began his warmups, the first pitch was typically a hard fastball 20 feet over the catcher’s head. The succeeding warmup pitches would be thrown lower and lower (but not slower) until Duren would finally “find” the plate.

Finally, it needs to be mentioned: Duren was really good. In a time when the concept of the “relief ace” was just becoming understood, Duren was one of the best — or, at least one of the brightest.

Consider what happens if you point your browser to FanGraphs historical leaderboards, set the minimum innings-pitched at 70, and sort by K/9:

1958:

1959:

1961:

1962:

“Hooah,” as Al Pacino would say.

The only year that’s omitted there, 1960, actually saw Duren post a career-high strikeout rate of 12.31 K/9, but in just 49.0 IP.

Dood, Jetah has weahd ahms.

This item broke pre-Thanksgiving, but sports card publication company Beckett Media recently posted some mocked-up images of Derek Jeter in all 30 MLB uniforms. (“Mocked-up” describes the fact better than the effect, but this is a family-friendly blog.) The creator of the images sportingly notes that some of his results were not strictly rigorous proportion-wise.

Actually, the best images are eerily convincing (Red Sox, Athletics) and thrill the viewer with a momentary trip to an alternate universe — for one split-second, some part of your brain actually perceives Derek Jeter as a BoSock or an Athletic. The tastefully decorated upper floors of my intellect were warmed by this.

However, the well-lived-in lower floors of my intellect, which are usually set to smoking by the Jete-dog, were left fully aflame by the less carefully-executed mockups. These caused me to perceive Derek, in turn, as having a VERY large head, using some kind of reverse-Sosa skin-darkening cream, and sitting in a way that Derek Jeter would never, ever, ever sit.

I am not particularly a fan of Derek Jeter. But even I have little stomach to further explore these dark and perverse parallel realities.

This is a day late and, depending on your spelling preferences, maybe a letter short, but let’s do it anyway: Happy Hanukkah, Baseball!

I’d originally planned to present each of our Jewish readers with enough oil to light their lamps for just one night, but then somehow make it last for eight nights. Unfortunately, that appears to require some sort of “divine miracle,” so instead I give you this — i.e. three pictures of Jewish baseballer Kevin Youkilis wiping sweat from his sweat-soaked brow.

ESPN college basketball blogger Eamonn Brennan described this shirt last season:

Speaking of Northwestern fans, this year’s Northwestern fan and team slogan is incredibly funny. It is, simply, “Make Shots.” Usually team t-shirt slogans are something inspirational or ostensibly full of deep basketball insight. Not this. “Make Shots” might be the least inspirational, and therefore the most honest, team slogan of all-time. I love it.

Uninspirational? Honest? I can totally do that. At least that first thing. Here’s how I adapted this shirt idea to baseball. First, this generic one can work for every team.

That’s not terribly creative, though. It’s much more fun to try to adapt these to individual teams, maybe like this.

(More after the jump)

Read the rest of this entry »

The always-excellent Joe Posnanski submitted his vote for Sportsman of the Year this Monday, and his selection couldn’t be more different than the man the voters chose last year. Derek Jeter was the sportsman of 2009, and he was a veteran that had reversed some statistical signs of aging and poor defense to turn in the second-best season of his career (by WAR) at 35. His team won the championship. He was the starting shortstop. He was a matinee idol in the cultural capital of America, he was getting married, and babies were being named after him.

So it’s kind of a long way from there to Armando Galarraga, Posnanski’s vote for 2010. Galarraga didn’t make his substantial major league debut until he was 25, and in his best season hasn’t approached Jeter’s worst season (by WAR). He’s not a great pitcher – a 4.87 FIP is about right for a flyball pitcher with a below-average strikeout rate – and this season he wasn’t even an average pitcher. Obviously, this isn’t about excellence at his sport. Take it away, Joe:

Joyce would handle his mistake with great dignity. But the real hero was Galarraga. He did not argue with Joyce on the field. He just sort of smiled. He retired the next batter, Trevor Crowe, and finished off the game as a one-hitter (making this, in the minds of many, the first 28-out perfect game in baseball history). And then he went into the clubhouse and told reporters that he was very proud of the way he pitched. When asked about Joyce immediately afterward, he said that Joyce should not worry about it, that everybody makes mistakes. He actually planned to go to Joyce to make HIM feel better. Later, when Joyce came to see Galarraga to apologize for missing the call, the pitcher reiterated his stance. It meant a lot to him that Joyce came over to apologize.

“Nobody’s perfect,” Galarraga said.

Of course, Posnanski covers the different definitions of “Sportsman” in the preamble for his vote. And it’s no brain-buster to point out that we admire athletes for their excellence as well as their grace or good conduct – when we can. Former winners of the award seem to have won because of excellence and timing – such as Dwyane Wade the year he won the championship and the Boston Red Sox in 2004. But there are those that have won for other reasons, such as Arthur Ashe in 1992. Look at the whole list of winners and you realize that the definition is malleable and usually depends on the crossover appeal of the story. The “size of the story” was probably behind Posnanski’s 2008 vote for Stephen Curry and the fun he brought back to college basketball, and was probably also be behind his vote for Gallaraga.

But is there some sort of link – intentional or not – between last year’s winner and this year’s vote? Jeter’s big moment this year was very un-“sportsman”-like, in terms of fair conduct, and then there’s the relative excellence and careers of these two baseball men. Perhaps I’m being guilty of cynicism, or maybe I’m just making a connection where there is none. I’m certainly not accusing Posnanski of any untoward behavior. It’s just funny thing that occurred to me while considering a below-average ‘sportsman’ for the Sportsman of the Year. The most likely explanation is the fact that Galarraga and his near-perfect game were the baseball story of the year in the way that it warmed our collective heart.

But it’s also at least worth considering what candidate baseball might have been put forward if the focus were instead on excellence as it has been in years past. Would we be considering Buster Posey more heavily? He made his major league debut at a difficult position and then was instrumental to taking the Giants to their first San Franciscan title. If only he had put forth a more spectacular postseason line, this might be our story. .288/.354/.390 is pretty good, especially for a rookie, but it doesn’t win you postseason hardware or the imagination of the Sportsman of the Year voters – especially on a team full of so many characters and heros. At least this is the right track, judging from Tom Verducci’s vote – the Giants as a whole.

In the end, though, the Sportsman of the Year seems to be the main character in the story that most captured the sporting worlds’ imagination. Is that Armando Galarraga’s “im”perfect game for baseball and for you?

Fay Vincent in his pomp.

Former commissioner Fay Vincent has an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal suggesting that baseball players negotiate for ownership shares in their teams as part of their compensation. (The piece is behind the WSJ.com pay wall, but if you have a login it’s worth a look.)

Why would players prefer stock to cold, hard cash? As Mr. Vincent notes, it’s all about taxes. Capital gains — the kind of income realized when you sell shares that have appreciated in value — are typically taxed at a much lower rate than regular salary income. Since professional athletes earn major dollars and often have their entire lifetimes’ earnings collapsed into relatively short careers, optimal tax planning is extremely important.

Indeed, tax issues have received some attention in the sports media recently. When LeBron James chose to sign the Miami Heat this summer, the media was quick to note that Florida has no personal income tax. More recently, articles about the race for Cliff Lee’s services have recognized the fact that Texas is another state without a personal income tax. New York on the other hand does have an income tax (although it also has the Yankees).

For my part, I’m not sure most baseball players are suited to being significant corporate shareholders. People who own large amounts of shares in individual companies should be very knowledgeable about the businesses in which they are invested. Your typical player might have a good understanding of the on-field team, but I doubt he knows (or wants to know) everything about his team as a business. Also, the player would only get the lower tax rate on any gain in share value, as the initial payment of shares would be taxed at ordinary rates.

Still, for those players with an interest in the business of baseball, it could certainly make sense. It’s somewhat surprising that agents and teams haven’t gotten creative and tried this more than they have.

I don’t really think words are needed to describe why I find this item from MLB.com’s holiday store so hilarious, but here are some anyway.

Philadelphia has a certain reputation as a sports town that some would lightly describe as “salty,” or perhaps “abrasive.” To put it lightly, Philly’s fans can be mean. Even the grinchiest of grinches wouldn’t throw snowballs at Santa Claus. But Philly fans did, as verified by the ever-vigilant Snopes.com:

When (Frank) Olivo (the 20-year-old handpicked to portray Santa Claus) finished his run down Santa Claus Lane, he got into range. A fan in the upper deck threw the first snowball. As Santa hit the south end zone, one turned into ten, then into 100.

“When I hit the end zone, and the snowballs started, I was waving my finger at the crowd, saying ‘You’re not getting anything for Christmas,'” Olivo recalled.

“Oh, I got pelted,” Olivo says. He remembers being hit by several dozen snowballs, which suggests that many of the upper-deck denizens were more accurate passers than [the Eagles’ quarterback]. “I didn’t mind,” he says. “I started kibitzing with some of the people throwing the snowballs.”

Still, he had his limits. “When I finished, Mr. Mullen asked if I wanted to do it again the next year,” Olivo says. “I told him, ‘No way. If it doesn’t snow, they’ll probably throw beer bottles.”

This story is really lighter than most people than most people consider it, I think. At the same time, though, it’s friggin’ Santa Claus. He’s jolly and he gives people free stuff. If you can’t appreciate that, who can you appreciate?

On another note, if the Philly Phanatic really were Santa Claus, somehow I think David Wright would get a lump of coal in his stocking.

Javier Vazquez, Good Samaritan.

On Tuesday it was reported that Type B free agents Trevor Hoffman and Javier Vazquez were being offered arbitration by their respective teams, but that pursuant to “gentleman’s agreements” the players would not accept the offers.

Maybe it’s just me, but I find these arrangements a little odd. Read the rest of this entry »

People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring.

-Rogers Hornsby

Now you can look out that window in style in the winter months, thanks to this new line of holiday hats from ’47 Brand. The hats feature team logos in Christmas colors (red and green) with a baseball-bat wielding Santa (reminds me of this guy). Some even don the team logo with a Santa-style stocking hat, sure to keep the ears or tops of letters warm.

These hats sell for 18.99, or roughly half of what an Authentic Collection hat sells for. I suppose that makes sense – at least here in Wisconsin, you can count on half of the year bringing wintry weather. That said, this doesn’t seem like anything a serious fan would want to wear, and the main targets for this would probably be unsuspecting gift buyers like Secret Santas. (Note to any Secret Santa of mine: don’t buy me one of these hats.)

What this really suggests to me is that these hats must be incredibly cheap to make, as ’47 Brand can apparently afford to produce this highly specific line of hats which doesn’t have much appeal to any hardcore type of fan – the type of fan that would spend money on hats. Perhaps I’m merely a Grinch, though, and am merely looking at the world with nary a hint of holiday spirit.

Lou Merloni’s pregame meal of choice.

This weekend’s Cape Cod Baseball League Hall of Fame induction was a time for sharing memories. And based on this article in the Cape Cod Times, mostly what everyone remembers from those weeks on the Cape is what the players ate.

Lou Merloni shared a fond reminiscence of his house mother:

“I was struggling early in the season. She made me steamers one day, put everything in it, carrots, linguica. I got three hits that night off Billy Wagner. Next day, she made steamers again, and I had two more hits… I went on to win the batting title all because of that host family and those steamers.”

Former Cape Cod League player Mike Loggins, who never made the majors but spent several years in the Royals’ system, offered a cautionary tale about his own house mother and the unredeemable unfairness of life:

“After my first home run, she told me she was going to make me a London Broil. It was so tender I told myself I was going to hit some more. I hit one again soon after, and I got another one. Then in three games I hit something like five homers, and I never got another London Broil.”

Sad. Lastly, and leastly, David Aardsma’s house mother revealed to the world young Aardsma’s “penchant for eating Spaghetti-O’s.”

In case you’re not familiar with the Cape Cod Baseball League, it’s a wood bat summer league for college players. The Cape Cod Times article linked above really captures how memorable the experience is for the young players, who typically stay with a host family and work day jobs on the side. Like any developmental league, some players go on to star in the majors, most don’t. If you’re interested in the league, or you just want to think summer thoughts as the weather cools down, several books have been written about it.