It was touch and go there, for a while–after an extraordinarily hot stretch one of the pillars of our rotation cooled off near the end of the season. Some people were worried that he had been overtaken by Dontrelle Willis, at least in the minds of the voters.

But, finally, after a long stretch of futility, one of our starters has taken the award home. And so, I would like to congratulate Jason Marquis, your 2005 National League Silver Slugger.

Unlike that other pitching award Dontrelle really had no claim to this one, batting out of the nine-hole aside. Marquis improved on his already-impressive .292/.297/.375 tally from 2004 by going .310/.326/.460, with an extra-base hit every 8.7 at-bats. (For perspective, Albert Pujols hit one every 7.3 at-bats.) The season ended with his OPS 2% above the league average OPS for a position player. How valuable is that?

Well, take big free-agent target A.J. Burnett. According to Bill James’s Win Shares system, he was worth 14.1 win shares on the mound. Marquis, on the other hand, was worth 9.2, the same as such luminaries as Horacio Ramirez and Kris Benson. However, Burnett cost his team 2.4 win shares with the bat, while Marquis slashed enough doubles to add 2.6. So, Burnett was the better pitcher–by a significant margin–but as players, by this method, Marquis Marq was just as valuable to his team.

So, it’s not something we often think about–unless the player decides to, say, become a center fielder–but it’s not a hollow achievement; congratulations are in order to the Sultan of Staten Island Swat.

We’d call it still-another hyperlink post–doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, but it certainly sounds more exciting–but then, if I can remember my childhood fads correctly it would probably also be about the Power Rangers and basketball. I apologize for the all-link format lately–I haven’t been struck with a lot of inspiration–but like The English Beat I just can’t stop it.

First up: 2005 World Series lowest-rated ever. I guess that’ll teach them to let the Cardinals lose in the NLCS. Anyway, as a lot of smarter people than me have already said, if Fox complains about this they need only look in the mirror; I can’t imagine C-Span doing a worse job of covering the games than they did. So:

Dear Fox,

First off, a word about Scooter. Small children know when they’re being patronized, for one, and for another they don’t typically hold sway over the remote control in your average Nielson family. Why, then, did some network executive feel it a Truly Brilliant Idea to trot out a talking baseball, complete with high-pitched voice and a hammered bandwagon fan’s knowledge of the game? A talking baseball that is so annoying–even relative to other talking baseballs–that the adults who do hold the remotes will flip past it if they know what’s good for them? Maybe save the money you’re paying the animator and voice actor and spend it on getting Tim McCarver the old spotless mind treatment with regards to Derek Jeter, Handsome Man and Clutch God.

And another thing: maybe if you guys played games other than the ones involving the Red Sox and the Yankees in the regular season, people would have–get this–some interest in them! These were likable teams; the White Sox had been underdogs the whole year despite winning 99 games, the Astros had Biggio and an end-of-the-line Bagwell finally with their best shot at a championship. But still, in the World Series, they were talking about whether or not the Yankees would overhaul their team in the offseason. Guess what–it wasn’t the offseason yet!

And finally, screw baseball, why did you cancel Andy Richter Controls the Universe? Do you guys really just have good sitcoms coming out that fast? I’m sure you could bring in Scooter to explain the lack of a laugh track, it’d be fun!

Sincerely,
A concerned citizen
P.S. Enough with the sideline reporters at baseball games, there aren’t any sidelines.

In more baseball-related news, the free agents are coming; the headline name for this year, a bit of a letdown after the Pedro-Beltran spectacular, appears to be Paul Konerko. And whoever signs him, I have a sinking feeling, is going to end up incredibly disappointed, even moreso if their deal runs more than four years. Here we have a player who–seriously–is slower than Jim Thome; has a pronounced (88 points of slugging percentage) platoon split in what is recognized as The home run park of the AL; and has posted a .900 OPS exactly once. When you’re a lumbering first baseman this isn’t top-of-the-line material, but most of his value is very visible in massive home runs, and the World Series in your contract year usually helps your bottom line. The afore-mentioned Thome–who was a much better hitter in his prime–fell off from his late-20’s peak relatively quickly after hitting 30, even before the injuries left him in his current position between a Ryan Howard and a huge contract. Even taking into account that Konerko strikes me as less likely to suffer a lot of injuries than a guy built like Thome, somebody’s going to end up overpaying. Thankfully, the Cardinals seem to have first base otherwise occupied for the moment.

In a Former Cardinal Sighting, Mike DeJean–brought in in one of many desperate attempts to save the 2003 bullpen, if you’ll remember–has resigned with the Rockies. My immediate reaction–what a huge masochist–still applies somewhat, but looking at his stats he’s actually fared pretty well at Coors in his career. Of course, so had Jose Jimenez.

Had the Cardinals been eliminated by the Padres, or by some other trick of fate avoided losing to the Killer B’s, I would feel sorry for the Astros at this point. After all, it’s not like Cardinals fans would have difficulty relating to a team whose greatest asset collapses on them in the World Series after carrying them all the way to it.

Needless to say, however, I can not feel sorry for them, because they are the Astros and they did eliminate the Cardinals and it’s a nice sort of poetic justice that this loss occurs right after the Juice Box is pried open with the Commish’s own can-opener. If asked, though, I will continue to maintain that I always preferred Frank Thomas anyway, as far as those two similar first basemen went.

First on the random linking agenda, Bobby V. says he’d like to see a Japan-U.S. World Series. Your pull quote:

Watching our guys all season and the World Series on TV, I can tell you the level of play is equal. Such a competition would be great, and it’s time to do battle.

I’m not talking about all-star exhibition games. I’m talking about two battle-proven teams who have played a season together and know how to play baseball.

I like Bobby Valentine, really, but equal? I hate to pick on Tuffy Rhodes twice in as many posts, but here’s his career major league line: .224/.310/.349. And here’s his Japanese mark through 2004: .288/.380/.557. Now, obviously, that’s an outlier case, but Ichiro, the Matsuis, Tsuyoshi “Remember My Cool Wristbands? Those were cool, right?” Shinjo–really, our own So Taguchi’s one of the few Japanese players to improve (eventually…) on his hitting after coming here.

That said, I’m all for the series; Japanese baseball has always interested me, and I’m sure it would be an interesting series–just not as competitive as Captain Spalding suggests.

On the Cardinals front, of course, we’re left with nothing but the continued Brian Giles speculation. Not that there’s anything wrong with speculating about your team landing one of the best hitters of the last five years. Of course I have my usual worries about the deal–the Cardinals aren’t getting any younger, and replacing Walker with Giles–even though there is a five year age difference there–is kind of cheating in that regard. If they replace Matt Morris with Anthony Reyes I suppose they will have done a good job there, but the rotation isn’t really the problem; the afore-mentioned elder statesman, after all, will be all of 32 next season.

In Matthew Leach’s latest mailbag the issue is brought up as to how long you would sign Giles; he’s pretty agile as far as big hulking outfielders go, having played in center field even as recently as last year. He hits for a good average, has played more than 150 games in five of his last six seasons, and has no indications of undergoing a continued decline. I would be hesitant to go for more than three years, but the last agile/hulking guy we got to man right field did pretty well for himself at 39, didn’t he?

I returned to Baseball Primer to lurk sooner than expected, and was greeted with the following links:

King Doesn’t Appear In Postseason.

“I think Flo [Randy Flores] did a great job the times that he pitched, but I’m bitter,” King said after the Cardinals were eliminated from the National League Championship Series in six games. “We had eight games, nine games after the last game of the season, and I was pretty much a spectator. If I can’t pitch here, then I can pitch somewhere else.”

Well then. (The immediate Primer response was “Trade him to Baltimore for Steve Kline!”) I like Ray–don’t disappoint the posse–but Tyler Johnson could probably take his spot, especially if second-half-Ray comes into Spring Training next year. The thing I don’t get is, La Russa gave him every chance in the regular season to prove himself, and… well, he didn’t. If not then, then why in a situation in which a no-batters-retired outing would hamstring the team?

Also, Larry Walker announced his retirement. I was hoping he’d stick around for cheap–Broken Down Walker posted an .886 OPS last year, only 36 points lower than a certain Andruw Jones–and 300 good at-bats and solid right field play again, but it’s understandable that the guy wants to be able to live a relatively pain-free life more than he wants to receive eight cortisone shots and a bionic neck. Is he a Hall of Famer? 6,907 at-bats, an OPS 40% above the league average when adjusted for Coors, and seven gold gloves, not to mention a ridiculous peak. Borderline, but there are certainly worse players in the Hall. People are going to overadjust for Coors like he’s Tuffy Rhodes hitting 55 homers in Japan, but because he quickly outstripped Bichette Happens as the Face of the Franchise he might get a bonus.

And finally, to everybody who’s wondering where they’ll get their Mike Shannon fix with the Mighty MOX being replaced by the Tinny TRS, try game one of the World Series, where everybody who’s got a ticket to New Comiskey will receive an XM Radio. A coupon for one, rather; you have to commit to three months of the service to receive it.

I suggest it–as I said in the comments of the last post, I’ve gotten enough use out of just the alternative music stations, the decades (40’s in particular), and the 24 hour old time radio feed. (Shut up–er, t’ain’t funny, McGee.) It’s also interesting to hear some of the famed announcers of other teams in a capacity beyond “that one soundbite of Vin Scully from that one game” or “Bob Uecker playing himself as a violent drunk in Major League.”

Not that there’s anything wrong with Major League. The first two.

Not much for graceful losing; I hope the Astros get pummeled and Roy Oswalt allows fifteen runs in the deciding game. Sorry, ’sway it is; it’s grace enough for me to not wish bodily harm on the players. Aloud.

In the meantime, I’m going to probably take a day or two off so I can avoid reading all the idiotic commentary from both sides. I’ll spend it sculpting Thom Brennaman voodoo dolls, donating my time as a Big Brother to handi-capable umpires everywhere, and complaining to anybody who will listen. And rooting against the Astros.

Well, it’s been a good season, all things considered; I’m glad I had the chance to rant about it in public, and I’d like to thank everybody who visited on a regular basis and–he continued, hopefully–will continue to make this site a daily–”hourly?” He thought, a greedy look in his eyes and the AdSense sign-up form tabbed in Safari–stop. Hot Stove season is always fun, and I’ve got some site upgrades and other cool things planned. RE: Hot Stove League: Young slugging outfielder, Walt! You’ll thank me later.

Two days ago, I was wondering how long I would have to block out the shrill Astros-Chisox coverage and Cardinals Choke Again ruminators before I could begin the Get Up, Baby! Hot Stove season in earnest. Tomorrow, I might be thinking that again.

In the meantime, the Cardinals are now the “expert” favorites.

I don’t get it either–winning one game is typically easier than winning two–but I appreciate the rare vote of confidence from the media. Now, Swamp Gas–it’s an affectionate nickname now, I swear–if you’d be so kind as to continue shutting Thommy B. and Psycho Steve up, I’d be ever-so-thankful. (And yes, the intent was to make you think of Thom Brennaman doing a generic wacky morning show. Say “She’s gonna take her top off!” in his voice, and tell me that wouldn’t be the funniest thing ever.)

Back when I was a bigger fan of the NBA than baseball–this was a few years ago, when the Bulls were unstoppable–I used to get the championship retrospective videos every year. And every year there would be, set to dramatic synth violins and nervous crowd shots, some insane thing Michael Jordan did, whether it be the three pointers out of nowhere againt Portland or the Flu Game against Utah, to save a series. But here’s the thing: it’s all still dependent on actually winning the series. A few Finals losses and we’d be hearing about Kevin Duckworth’s brave last stand, or Sam Perkins’ perimeter play exposing Bill Cartwright–all the heroics would be a footnote. So, at the very least, Cardinals: win tomorrow. Don’t let Pujols’s massive home run and the subsequent deadening of a sellout crowd in a closed stadium–I can only imagine that’s what it sounded like when Milli Vanilli’s record started skipping–get overshadowed by Yet Another Oswalt Gem.

Did he kill that ball, or what? I was writing the concession post. About how I hate the playoffs, that they’ve strayed from their original purpose to become a bastardized March Madness-like thing, and that the inevitable newspapermen writing about how the Cardinals Didn’t Make Plays When It Counted and Weren’t Hustling Hard Enough and Third Maxim Ironicized Through Capital Lettering were all talking out their non-talking parts.

I still believe all of that, but luck and crapshoots are fun when they’re on your side.

In the meantime, I’m gonna do the same things I was going to do when I was assuming they were going to lose: watch a movie (Charade–can’t go wrong with a movie that features Audrey Hepburn, Cary Grant, and Walter Matthau), listen to a little Smoking Popes, and do some writing. (Fiction.) Gotta relax, win or lose. Also, I have to ice down the hand with which I attempted to move the molding around my bedroom door after Berkman’s home run.

But in the meantime: is it wrong to think about what it would be like if the Umpires’ bus rammed Thom Brennaman’s car?

Just a three game sweep, they’ve done it before and they can do it again. As the ridiculous umpiring, poor play, and bandwagon fans have proven, there’s nothing Hallowed and Special about the playoffs. They’re just games, win them.

So far the Cardinals and Astros have split the Intangible Scrap Derby 1-1; yesterday the Astros made all the sharp plays and timely non-hits that ESPN has decided are the key to the Cardinals’ success. Of course, as much as I like the team to play smart, I think this illustration is probably more telling with regards to what the Stros need to ape:

Average OBP, starting Astros not named Morgan or Lance: .315. When you’ve got Ensberg and Berkman bunched together–right after non-luminaries Biggio and Tavarez, no less–the seven stressless outs that follow tend to stop the momentum of your offense.

So they’ve got one on guile, the Cardinals have one on guile and offense. Let’s see who the better team actually is. It would have been nice to take both of the first games at Busch, because of the considerable home-field advantage some of the Astros hitters have, but I’m sure the Cardinals hitters will figure it out, too. (Eckstein in particular seems like he could hit 20 Biggio-esque home runs playing his home games at Minute Maid.)

Certainly can’t blame Mulder for the proceedings; some games the offense just doesn’t come all at once. Maybe in some alternate universe there are people on base when Molina hit his two doubles, or he fields that passed ball and the Cardinals keep it together, or Roy Oswalt’s arm falls off fielding a bunt. Regardless, it’s just a game. They lost three of them against the Astros last year, and that Astros team didn’t have an outfield with a high OBP of .316.

It took a dream to rouse me from my blog inactivity. A horrible, horrible dream. It wasn’t just about the Cardinals, but when they appeared it was to show me that Ray King was pitching in some crucial situation. And all I could think, even in the nightmare: “La Russa’s La Russa.” And then, I guess, my head exploded. I don’t know which part was worse.

Anyway, look, I like suspenseful series and all, but I’d much prefer the Cardinals to steamroll the Astros in four; I’ve got plenty of suspense still boiling over from last year, and I’d just as soon heat it up as impose again.

We all know where the Cardinals are about now; Abe Nuñez isn’t Scott Rolen or, recently, Scott from CardNilly or Scott Baio with the bat, but he’ll save some runs with the glove; Jim Edmonds isn’t the 2004 model but’s still an all-star, Sanders and Walker can hit, et cetera. But where are the Astros, compared to the 2004 club?

Catcher: Brad Ausmus is a whipping boy of some renown, and for good reason; despite having been an awful hitter since his second Houston tour began–way back in 2001–he’s considered a vital part of the club by everybody who would have the opportunity to prove otherwise. A big increase in his walk rate–.093, compared to .058 last year–has given him his most valuable season since his days as an underrated catcher with Detroit, Houston, and San Diego in the mid-90’s. A .351 OBP from your catcher is good, the .275/.373/.365 after the all-star break even more so. (Yadier Molina since the all-star break: .246/.303/.346.) Obviously Molina’s a better defensive catcher than Ausmus at this point, but he’s looked mediocre at the plate since returning from injury. (Advantage: Astros, although if you keep a right-hander trained on Ausmus (.247/.332/.302) you can neutralize it.)

First base: Bagwell’s injuries have finally caught up to him, but in 2004 he wasn’t a particular advantage for them anyway, hitting a good-but-not-great .266/.377/.465. In his place is Lance Berkman, who’s an MVP-caliber hitter no matter where he is. I’ve gotta give him credit for recovering from a Gramatica-esque embarrassing injury–at least he wasn’t the placekicker at the flag football game (he was an extremely large Safety)–to post his usual .900 OPS. He’s not as much of an asset as he was back when he played center field(!), and he’s not Albert Pujols, but he’s easily the most dangerous hitter on this team. Turning him around by bringing in a lefty is still effective (depending on the lefty), but he’s improved. Early in his career he became… er, Brad Ausmus as a right-handed hitter, but his .294/.416/.429 mark from 2005 makes him more of a slow, fat Tim Raines. More desirable than facing The Lance Berkman, but far from an automatic out.

Second base: Craig Biggio(!) makes his return to second base, despite the Astros starting their top second base prospect in left field for a good portion of the year. The 39-year-old was putting together yet another all-star caliber season, slugging nearly .500 before scuffling to finish with a still-impressive .793 OPS, albeit one without the high OBP we’re used to seeing out of him. The new-found power–how many middle infielders set career highs in anything but Golf Rounds Played at 39!?–appears to be a park illusion, as his OPS loses 200 points away from TAFKA Enron Field, the result of pulling nineteen home runs over a left field fence that doesn’t exist in most ballparks. The Cardinals should be able to keep him in the ballpark at Busch, but Minute Maid is another story. Grudzielanek is, once again, a considerably better fielder than Biggio, and more consistent, but the Astros suddenly gaining a guy with a .900 OPS is something of a home-field advantage. All at once, now: At least he’s not Jeff Kent. My therapist was probably more depressed than Houston at that turn of events.

Third base: this one hurts. Remember that third baseman we had, the one that hit home runs and threw harder than Sidd Finch at the Sports Illustrated company softball game? He was cool. I didn’t get to ride the Abraham Nuñez love train, and I’m regretting having missed it because then I wouldn’t have so big a pit in my stomach whenever he came up to bat with runners on base. He’s hit .241/.288/.266 since August 1, and I believe I speak for Cardinals fans everywhere when I say: please come back, Abraham Nuñez Alien Possessor! Just for the playoffs, I swear. I’ve been watching a lot of X-Files reruns, and I’m hoping that when it comes to check out my viewing habits I can switch to Ghostbusters and recapture it. In the meantime, however, Morgan Ensberg, surefire rookie of the year candidate-turned-failure-turned-underutilized-masher-turned-failure-again finally–finally for the Astros, I wasn’t on the edge of my seat–turned it around and had a huge year as starting third baseman and right-hand Berkman. Like our very own Railsplitter he also fell off after the All-Star break… but when you fall from where he was the resulting .895 OPS isn’t going to punch any holes in your offense.

Shortstop: Adam Everett had better be a really, really good shortstop. Like, two Ozzie Smiths playing at the same time good. Because his OPS away from Minute Maid is .566, and even when he’s at the juice box he’s barely average. However good his defense is, it isn’t likely to make up for the colossal advantage the Cardinals get by having a solid hitter at the position. Not a lot to talk about here; everybody knew Everett wasn’t going to hit, and I think Eckstein’s recent muscling-up at the expense of Woody Williams has served notice that he’s having his best season since 2002.

Outfield: The big deal is who isn’t there; I’m relieved to learn that Carlos Beltran is in a secure storage facility somewhere in Queens, where he can not possibly hit a massive home run off of a Cardinals pitcher, unless Joe Magrane is on vacation up there or something. This is the Astros’ weak point; the best hitter of the three is Jason Lane, a Ken Phelps all-star type who–you’ll never have guessed–has a 150 point OPS split between home and away. Altogether he’s an average-to-below-average corner outfielder, a low-OBP slugger in the mold of 2004 Reggie Sanders.

Replacing Carlos Baaltran in center field is Wily Taveras, who, for the trouble of putting up a .666 OPS at an outfield position at Minute Maid field, will probably win rookie of the year. I’m assured that he’s a Sparkplug at the top of the order who Hustles and Scraps his way into scoring lots of runs, but a .325 OBP at the top of the order sounds like just what the doctor ordered. The doctor that worked on Matt Morris and Jason Isringhausen in the offseason, I mean.

The afore-mentioned second base prospect, Chris Burke, is in right field. He’s shown an ability to hit in the PCL–his OPS has hovered around .900 in his AAA stints–but he has a .655 career major league OPS to show for it, consisting mainly of one good month (this past August) and that big home run a few days ago. He’s probably better than what he’s shown so far, but it’s like Biggio–as an outfielder, he hits well for a second baseman.

The big deal, of course, is pitching; like the Cardinals, they’ve got to worry about the health of their ace. Like the Cardinals, they have a championship-quality left-hander who they didn’t have last year. (Although Pettite’s played way over his head this year while Mulder’s pretty much just been Mark Mulder.) Like the Cardinals, they’ve got a great staff, if everything breaks right. But isn’t that always how it is with pitching? Sometimes I wish they’d just throw a machine out there and call it a day; at least I’d be able to tell when it was losing velocity.