Real baseball! Today! Of course, a month from now–February always does fly by, in hindsight–we’ll laugh about this excitement, seeing as most of the players set to play will be opening the season with Memphis, or Springfield, or the Hy-Vee, but I can’t overestimate how much warmer I will feel, even though the thermometer will stick around the forties for the next few weeks, knowing that somewhere the Cardinals are playing real baseball games.

Alright, since I have homework out the wazoo, and Russian doesn’t translate itself, a thought experiment. Let’s say you’ve been made the GM. What’s your 25-man roster headed into the season? You don’t have to worry about contracts, or anything–this is your party, and since Walt and Tony do it feel free to include sentimental favorites if you want to. Mine:

I like Chris Duncan, but if he regresses as much as most people expect him to with the bat I don’t see how he’s a better player than John Rodriguez. Among contracted players, Russ Springer, Ryan Franklin, Preston Wilson, and Gary Bennett get the boot. Waiting in the wings to ruthlessly snatch away a spot from Preston Wilson (or Randy Flores?) is Rick Ankiel, in this hypothetical world.

Now: you?

Just in time for Spring Training, the end of one of the offseason’s more frustrating non-stories: the media has allowed Scott Rolen’s feud with Tony La Russa to end.

Cardinals manager Tony La Russa and third baseman Scott Rolen have declared a cease fire.

The two shared a firm handshake and a brief but congenial exchange outside La Russa’s office Thursday. After talking past each other during the team’s World Series run and literally walking past each other during last month’s Winter Warm-up, the four-time manager of the year and his seven-time Gold Glove infielder agreed to “turn the page” on a disagreement that had turned ugly and public.

I don’t really see any way in which this article can be seen as meaningful. On one hand, if the feud was so facile and bland that a single handshake–an inevitable handshake–could end it, there was no point to all the build-up in the first place. But if it was a real feud, what’s a handshake going to do? A handshake doesn’t make La Russa less persnickety and Rolen less of a even-if-it-hurts-the-team self-styled gamer. Neither La Russa nor Rolen actually apologized for their actions in the article.

In only one way is this article deserving of mention: it means this thing is over. Thank God.

Now we can get to matters that are more deserved of our frustration. Namely: John Rodriguez’s inexplicable fight for a roster spot. Inexplicable in that Rodriguez is dirt cheap, still in his prime, and the owner of a career OPS of .812. Despite all that, he’s going to have to battle such luminaries as the endlessly terrible Skip Schumaker, career AAA OPS .731; So Taguchi, 38 and anemic with the stick; and Preston Wilson, who combines the worst aspects of Taguchi and Rodriguez. All this to get a spot on the bench behind an injury-prone center fielder and two middling corner outfielders. J-Rod/Johnny Rocket/”Nickname” Rodriguez is far from a great player, but odds aren’t bad that he ends 2007 as the second best corner outfielder on the team, however first place shakes out. The problem is that he might be doing that from Memphis.

February is the Month of Unbridled Optimism, because there’s nothing to talk about but best-case scenarios. In that tradition, it’s time for a player whose name I dare not speak–Mark Mulder. (That was typing.) Swamp Gas’s recent feature in the Post-Dispatch is the latest salvo on that front.

Remember that video that made the rounds a while back, dissected by Baseball Primer pitching expert Carlos Gomez? The one where Mulder’s mechanics completely disintegrate over two years. From the article:

Mulder, 29, began a series of alterations to his delivery that prevented him from achieving consistency. By the time he landed on the disabled list for the first time last May, Mulder described himself as “slinging” the ball with an abbreviated arm action completely different from his form at the beginning of his final season in Oakland.

Surprise! He actually realizes it. This is the best news that could possibly come from the Mulder deal at this point; it means that they’ve detected the flaw, and they’re working on fixing it. If Mulder comes back this July throwing 90 with any consistency at all, I will kiss Carlos Gomez on the mouth. Say, you’re asking yourself, why didn’t he pick up on this earlier?

“I wasn’t throwing correctly, but I never would have imagined needing surgery,” said Mulder.

What? He really couldn’t put delivery changes, a “weak arm”, and pain together and think “I’m hurt”? It’s funny how these things work out sometimes, but luckily enough I discovered an old-time radio program, dated 1942, that is eerily prescient at this time. I’ve managed to license the transcript from the Mutual Broadcasting people, so here goes:

THE THRILLING ADVENTURES OF MARK MULDER
THE MOST OBLIVIOUS MAN… IN THE UNIVERSE!

ANNOUNCER
Kiddies–it’s time once again for the adventures of the world’s least-inquisitive detective, the Duke of Deductive Reasoning, Mark Mulder! Presented by the Lucky Strike Corporation!

[Children applaud, smoke.]

ANNOUNCER
Today’s adventure begins, as always, in the locker room of the local baseball nine! The Manager, Buck Burnside, has called Mark in for a secret conference!

MARK
What is it, boss?

BUCK
I’ve got a case for you, but I need to know you’ll be able to keep it under your hat. Y’see, my daughter’s got a new beau, and… I’m just not sure he’s on the up-and-up.

MARK
Gee, boss… what makes you think that?

BUCK
That’s where you come in. It’s a dangerous mission, but I’d like you to tail him and see what you can find out. Something about him just doesn’t make sense.

MARK
I… I’ll see what I can do.

BUCK
And Mulder?

MARK
Yeah?

BUCK
Have a Lucky Strike. L.S.M.F.T!

MARK
Fine tobacco, indeed!

ANNOUNCER
It’s fine tobacco because it’s toasted, instead of sun-dried! Meanwhile, Mark found himself hot on the trail of Betty Burnside’s beau, “Machine Gun” Madison!

MARK
Hmm–that’s a strange group of friends he’s meeting. And in front of the bank, too! I’ll just sneak behind this wall and listen in…

[Sneaking noises.]

MADISON
That’s right, boys. We’ll set Betty up at the front, with a toy pistol or somethin’, and while the police fuss with her “Hacksaw”, “Clawhammer”, “Polio” and I’ll burrow up from the floor and blow through the safe. Say, where is “Polio”, anyway?

MARK
If only he’d say why he’s here! And with that dynamite!

“POLIO”
This is Bob “Polio” Hope, saying “Sorry I’m late, boys, but I just got back from giving the Japs an iron lung-full!”

ANNOUNCER
Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bob Hope!

[Applause.]

MADISON
Quick, positions, everybody–that dupe Betty’s coming over here.

MARK
Something tells me these guys are up to no good!

BETTY
Aww, hi, Machine Gun! It’s so romantic of you to suggest the bank for our date tonight!

MADISON
Anything for you, doll. Now, I have to go see a man about a horse. Just hold this for me for a minute–it’s a gift for, ah, my nephew.

MARK
Well, gee, it looks like they’re really in love! Buck will sure be glad to hear it!

MADISON
[In a loud whisper.] “Ginsu Knife”, are you ready with the TNT?

[Walking noises.]

ANNOUNCER
But before “Machine Gun” Madison was able to get away, Our Hero made a startling realization!

MARK
I just know things don’t add up. There’s the drills, and the dynamite, and the Sicilians, and the bags with dollar signs on them… and… that’s it! Stop it right there, Madison! You’re smoking Marlboros, like a woman!

ANNOUNCER
Madison was stopped dead in his tracks–he turned around to face Mulder’s steely gaze, and the big “wind-up” of justice!

MARK
Here goes, miscreants!

ANNOUNCER
Before the exciting conclusion, a word from our sponsor, Lucky Strike Tobacco!

[Four minute L.S.M.F.T. jingle.]

ANNOUNCER
When we last left our hero, he had delivered the “fast ball” of justice straight at “Machine Gun” Madison!

“BOX-CUTTER”
Boss, that baseball’s almost reached us!

MADISON
It’ll hit us, too–unless we run for it! The bank isn’t worth it, boys, Let’s go!

[Tapping noise.]

MADISON
Boys, I’m hit! About chest-high, and it stings a little!

MARK
That oughtta inconvenience you until the police come!

BETTY
Aww, Mark! I feel like such a heel! I really thought Machine Gun was a square guy, but I was wrong! … I just wish he could be as neat as you.

[Kissing noise.]

MARK
Well, I’ll see you, Betty.

ANNOUNCER
And so ends another adventure of Mark Mulder… the most oblivious man in the universe!

MARK
If only that Betty were interested in me.

Seriously, a minor league deal? For Ronnie Belliard? The guy for whom the Cardinals traded a free, viable shortstop/second base option? You know where I’m going with this: if he even makes the team–a team so clueless that they’re going into the season with Cristian Guzman as the starting shortstop–he makes $250000 less than Aaron Miles.

Admittedly, there’s that extra-curricular-activities-related extortion hanging over his head, but really–we’re surprised about professional athletes cheating, now? Surprised enough that it depresses the value of a middle infielder with a career OPS of .749 that much?

The Cardinals couldn’t have expected Belliard to go this cheaply, but Aaron Miles’s contract continues to look pretty dumb, in a small-scale they-really-did-that? sort of way.

The last post in this series, for the moment, focuses on Jim Edmonds’s place among his peers at every position. How many people, during Edmonds’s career, have done what he’s done? After all, it could just be that center field has been weak recently–that’s a lot to postulate, given the primacy of his peak over sixty years’ worth of candidates patrolling center, but it’s theoretically possible.

Once more, we’ll go to the WARP lists. I’ve stuck mostly to active players, and for consistency’s sake I’ve avoided steroid issues. Also, and some people might not agree with me: I didn’t give players five-year-peak credit for strike-affected 1994 seasons, which Baseball Prospectus pro-rates to 162 games. In a lot of players, it gives them career seasons that just don’t mesh with the rest of their career, and there’s no reason to suggest they’d have continued to hit so well. As a compromise, I did give them credit for that season in their career total.

Holy Crap.
         5CON  5NON  CAREER
Bonds    71.7  75.4   233.1
A-Rod    64.8  69.3   130.1
Pujols   57.6  59.9    68.5

Practicing Their Speeches/On Their Way
         5CON  5NON  CAREER
Palmeiro 45.5  51.2   137.8
Bagwell  52.1  55.7   135.9
Thomas   53.7  54.0   124.8
Biggio   51.0  52.3   123.5
Sheff    43.9  51.1   120.3
Pudge    47.0  47.4   120.2
Ramirez  45.4  46.5   108.7
Kent     49.5  49.5   103.9
Thome    43.7  46.4   103.9
Edmonds  51.2  52.0   103.8
Sosa     50.9  50.9   102.9
Piazza   47.4  50.6    97.5
Jeter    43.3  52.5    91.8
Rolen    50.6  54.0    89.3
CJones   44.9  44.9    83.9
Vlad     43.4  45.2    74.6

Edmonds is already relatively well-off on this list; his peak is obviously Hall of Fame caliber, and if he were to stay healthy–even if he didn’t bounce back offensively at all from 2006–over the life of his contract he would have a career total flirting with 120. The poor performance of players like Gary Sheffield, Jim Thome and Vlad Guerrero on this list show what a rare player Edmonds was in his prime: he hit like them, and he was also one of the best defensive players in the league.

So, there’s where he stands. We’ve compared him to the Hall’s subjective requirements, other center fielders, and his contemporaries; we won’t know for sure until he makes his final leaping catch, and uppercuts his last improbable home run, but things look pretty good right now. Hopefully, five years from when he retires, sportswriters will take a good, long look. Because I don’t want to have to be the Rich Lederer to his Bert Blyleven.

Let me begin with an obvious statement: Jim Edmonds won’t get into the Hall of Fame based on his career statistics. He’s not going to get 3,000 hits or hit 500 home runs, and there’s a good chance he doesn’t get 2,000 or 400. He wasn’t an everyday player until he turned 25, after which it’s nearly impossible to put up the big counting stats that punch most players’ tickets.

If he’s going to be a worthy Hall of Famer, he’s going to do it on the strength of his peak value–he’s Don Drysdale, not Don Sutton. So, how good a peak did he have? Some center fielders, using WARP3, once again, for lack of a better statistic. Five best years, consecutive and non-consecutive:

HOFer     OPS+     G  5CON   NON    WARP
Cobb       167  3035  54.3  61.4   189.8
DiMaggio   155  1736  57.8  59.3   119.8
Mantle     172  2415  63.1  65.0   155.1
Mays       156  2992  63.4  66.4   206.2
Speaker    158  2789  53.2  57.9   173.3
Griffey    141  2234  51.2  59.5   130.7

Edmonds    137  1697  51.2  52.0   103.8
Beltran    114  1176  43.8  48.2    62.4
Jones      117  1607  44.6  47.1    82.8
Murphy     121  2180  46.9  51.1    91.6
Williams   125  2076  46.2  47.3   106.3

That’s all there is. Ty Cobb, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle, Willie Mays, Tris Speaker, and eventually Ken Griffey, Jr. It’s important to not think in terms of being better than the bottom of the Hall of Fame barrel, and while Edmonds is outside of the Mays-Mantle-Cobb inner circle he fits pretty well into the second tier. Among the seventeen Hall of Fame center fielders who played in the majors–I have no idea about the Negro Leaguers–his peak places no worse than sixth. Ever. And he’s closer to the inner circle than most of the other Hall center fielders are to him.

But his career totals remain lacking. What are we really penalizing him for, here? He’s had ten full seasons, five of which rank among the best any center fielder has ever put together. They are not at issue here, but his counting stats are. He’s out of reach of the inner circle, but let’s say that, rather than bursting into the majors fully formed as a 25-year-old all-star, he spent two years in the majors putting up numbers roughly equivalent to what he did in 2006, projected to a full season. Above average, but nothing earth-shaking. The crux of the matter is that we would no longer be having this discussion; he’d have 2000 hits and 400 home runs and probably one of those gaudy late-90s Angels caps on his plaque, because in this alternate universe it would be even harder to mistake Darin Erstad for the superior player. Suddenly, two .257/.350/.471 seasons are a big deal, whereas presently such output represents Jim Edmonds as a shadow of his former self.

So that’s really the sticking point: bulk value. Is the difference, then, between a Hall of Famer and a Hall of Very Good player two seasons of Mark Kotsay? Are those enough to keep a player out, when so much of the rest of his resumé is gleaming? It’s not a rhetorical question. The answer is no, for me, but some people think less of peak value than I. The fact is that Jim Edmonds already has the meat of a Hall of Fame career, the part where the Hall of Famer stands head and shoulders over his contemporaries. From 2000-2005 he wasn’t just the best in the majors, he was rivaling the greatest players to ever patrol center field. Nobody would’ve kept Griffey out of the Hall if his legs had literally disappeared upon joining the Reds and he was forced to retire, instead of hobbling toward 500 home runs, because he had already defined himself. Edmonds did it backward, but the idea remains: a few extra years as a mortal, either way, shouldn’t be what defines the best of the best.

The Edmonds and Center Fielders post has been delayed one day–your erstwhile blogger also reviews movies for the school newspaper, and as a result I was compelled to spend both time and money on… Norbit. A movie so bad that Thandie “Closer to Audrey Hepburn than Mark Wahlberg(!) was to Cary Grant” Newton couldn’t save it. A movie in which the average joke follows this trajectory: someone ate the wedding cake! Oh, who did it? It was the fat woman!

I am not so happy about it. In any case, there’s something else to consider. Our very own Scott Rolen made a looking-forward article. In particular, John Donovan’s article on ten thirty-something ex-stars, according to the headline. Quote:

Scott Rolen — An all-around force in 2004, powerful with the bat and sure-gloved at third, Rolen ran into L.A.’s Hee-Seop Choi at first base in May 2005. A mostly missed season in ‘05, a couple of shoulder operations later and … here we are. Rolen, soon to be 32, began to make his way back in ‘06. A rebound season will return him to the game’s elite.

Donovan clearly has no idea where he’s going with this piece–upper-echelon players like Jeff Kent and Rolen are lumped in with Luis Gonzalez, who’s looked done as a starter for a few years now. But it’s interesting to see how Rolen is perceived. Here are his OPSs the last five years he’s been healthy: .876, .860, .910, 1.007, .887. The outlier is clearly 2004, when he went absolutely ballistic; 2006, even with the unexpectedly low number of home runs, was right in line with his career numbers.

Consider: Rising Superstar and Genial Youngster David Wright had a .911 OPS last year. He was also a butcher on defense. Rolen was almost certainly the better player, and he was playing well within his established norms. In fact, Rolen was no worse than the third best 3B in the National League last year, behind Miguel Cabrera and Garrett Atkins. How is this a player who needs to rebound?

This picture cinches it for me. I could make a case, and to other people I’ll cite any numbers I need to, but in my head I’ll just keep playing that catch over and over. A few years ago I tried to prove that he was a Hall of Famer by comparing him to other borderline center fielders, which was interesting (to me) but not all that productive. He’s better, but when the case isn’t slam dunk reputation is the big tie-breaker. And in the middle of 2004, Jim Edmonds’s reputation was about as far from the Hall of Fame as can be.

Recently, Jay Jaffe answered a reader question about Bernie Williams’s Hall worthiness. And after Mickey Mantle, Ken Griffey, and Joe DiMaggio on his JAWS-derived list of worthies, but before Bernie, was a certain Jim Edmonds.

And even though 2006 was his worst year since 1999 on the field, it was a career year for his Hall of Fame-y reputation. So–for the first of what should be a few articles on the subject–the updated Jim Edmonds Keltner List. For those not in the know, the Keltner List, named after 40s third baseman and Hall of Very Good member Ken Keltner, is a list of questions designed to measure a player’s subjective accomplishments.

1. Was he ever regarded as the best player in baseball? Did anybody, while he was active, ever suggest that he was the best player in baseball? He was never regarded as the best player in baseball, but a case could be made that he was in 2004. Not a good case, because of Barry Bonds, but a case.
2. Was he the best player on his team? From 1996-98 and 2000-2002 he probably was, as well as 2004. In 1995 Tim Salmon peaked, and from 2001 on he’s had Albert Pujols to deal with.
3. Was he the best player in baseball at his position? Was he the best player in the league at his position? Depending on how 2007 and 2008 shake out, he could be the best center fielder of the decade. In fact, here’s a list of the best center field seasons of the decade, by Baseball Prospectus’s WARP3 (as best as I could find it, since they don’t have a leaderboard for WARP):

   1.  12.0  Jim Edmonds, 2004
   2.  11.8  Carlos Beltran, 2006
   3.  11.0  Richard Hidalgo(!), 2000
   4.  10.7  Grady Sizemore, 2006
   5.  10.6  Jim Edmonds, 2002
   6.  10.0  Jim Edmonds, 2000
   7.  10.0  Andruw Jones, 2000
   8.  10.0  Carlos Beltran, 2004
   9.  10.0  Carlos Beltran, 2001
   10   9.9  Jim Edmonds, 2005
   

   Edmonds also has the eleventh spot (at 9.7) and one other season at 8.9. At the very least he’ll be recognized as the best center fielder between Griffey and Beltran and Sizemore.

4. Did he have an impact on a number of pennant races? In 2004 he hit a twelfth-inning walk-off home run to force game seven and then made one of the most incredible defensive plays of all time to preserve the pennant-clinching victory. In 2006 he came back early from injury on several occasions to keep his team in the playoff picture, and then drove in ten runs in the playoffs despite suffering the effects of post-concussion syndrome. He broke game three of the World Series open with a double down the line. So I’d say yes.
5. Was he a good enough player that he could continue to play regularly after passing his prime? He’s currently played two years past what would be considered his prime, so we can’t answer for sure, but it looks like he’ll get every opportunity to.
6. Is he the very best player in baseball history who is not in the Hall of Fame? No.
7. Are most players who have comparable career statistics in the Hall of Fame? No; his late start and his dependence on walks prevent that. But no center fielder with his peak totals has missed the Hall.
8. Do the player’s numbers meet Hall of Fame standards? Not cumulatively; James’s Hall of Fame Standards has him at 39.6, with the Hall baseline at 50.
9. Is there any evidence to suggest that the player was significantly better or worse than is suggested by his statistics? He won eight gold gloves, and has been considered for most of his career as one of the best defensive players of his era. His value is concentrated in his prime years, which is more valuable than a guy who put up 1700 hits and 350 home runs over a long period of time.
10. Is he the best player at his position who is eligible for the Hall of Fame but not in? He’s not eligible, but among players who aren’t Griffey-sized locks he is almost certainly the best center fielder. When he and Griffey retire, he will be the best who is eligible but not in.
11. How many MVP-type seasons did he have? Did he ever win an MVP award? If not, how many times was he close? He had five MVP-caliber seasons, four of which came during Barry Bonds’s ridiculous run. In 2004, when he had his best shot to win, his candidacy was complicated by Scott Rolen and Albert Pujols also being MVP-caliber.
12. How many All-Star-type seasons did he have? How many All-Star games did he play in? Did most of the other players who played in this many go to the Hall of Fame? He had ten all-star type seasons, but he made all of four. He didn’t make the All-Star game in 2004, which should just about wrap it up for the All-Star game.
13. If this man were the best player on his team, would it be likely that the team could win the pennant? Without a doubt. In 2004, they did.
14. What impact did the player have on baseball history? Was he responsible for any rule changes? Did he introduce any new equipment? Did he change the game in any way? No.
15. Did the player uphold the standards of sportsmanship and character that the Hall of Fame, in its written guidelines, instructs us to consider? Yes.

He’s still far from a mortal lock, but that’s much better than he looked on this same list two years ago. He suffers most from his skills being undervalued; his defense was undervalued for much of his career by the sabermetric community, and his offense was undervalued by the people who vote for the all-star game. His weak counting stats are still an issue. He’s 291 hits from 2,000 and 50 home runs from 400; neither’s a given, because of his injury history, but if he can get both he’ll look a whole lot better. With a World Series win finally on the resumé and actually winning an MVP likely out of the picture, those are the two most important things he could do.

Tomorrow, we’ll look at his place among the best center fielders in baseball history.

So, here’s the thing: there’s just one guy currently with the Cardinals’ AAA affiliate who’s particularly impressive, unless you’re excited about the idea of John Nelson striking out in half of his at-bats at the big league level (slogan: I’m Not Jose Vizcaino!) And, honestly, I don’t know what to make of Andy Cavazos. He doesn’t put up extreme Colter Bean numbers in the minors, so I can’t get excited about him from that standpoint. And I didn’t watch him throw cartoon sliders for a month and a half, so he hasn’t yet earned the Josh Kinney Exception. But he did put up a 3.43 K:BB in Memphis, so I wouldn’t have minded the Cardinals handing him the job, rather than give Russ Springer money to… do whatever it is that Russ Springer does better than Andy Cavazos. (Russ Springer’s slogan: I’m neither Jose Vizcaino nor Ricardo Rincon!)

In any case, we’re back to your regularly scheduled programming here at Get Up, Baby!, whatever that is. I’ve been asked by the lovely people at CubsHub–I don’t really know them, but I like to think they’re lovely–to draw up a prospect list for their series on the NL Central. I hadn’t planned on doing one, but after slumming it with the pseudo-prospects for a while I feel like I’ve earned the chance to pretend I know any better about prospects than people who’ve actually seen them play. So that should be happening in the next few days. (Danup slogan: I never, ever turn a writing “job” down! Ever!)

On a hypothetical note: would you prefer a more open design? This fixed-width column deal was basically done out of convenience–I can fake my way through HTML and CSS, but that’s about it–and it doesn’t transfer well to very large and very small screens. For that matter, is there anything else you, The Viewer, would like to see?

The wrong Springfield, for me, but then my hometown wasn’t able to keep a Frontier League team in old Robin Roberts Stadium–even one with Jason Simontacchi’s undeniable star power–so it’s probably for the best. At this point the Not-Prospects shift from players who aren’t yet on the radar to players who had their time on the prospect lists and are now struggling to stay noticed or even employed. In AA, we have two of the most recognizable of the species:

Stu Pomeranz - SP - 2nd round, 2003

     AGE   LG   G    IP    H  BB   K  HR    K/9  BB/9  K:BB   ERA
2005  20   A+   8  48.1   56  10  29   1   5.40  1.86  2.90  3.35
2005  20   AA  18  98.2  110  40  66  12   6.02  3.65  1.65  5.29
2006  21   AA  18  98.1  107  30  64  13   5.86  2.75  2.13  4.39

Pomeranz is huge–6′7″, 220 pounds–and young. Were it not for those two facts, he would have never made it onto any prospect lists. And in spite of them, he’s off most now. But he’s still both of those things, so among the Not Top-Twenty he remains. Pomeranz illustrates the difference between position prospects and pitching prospects. He’s been young for his leagues, and adequate; he seems like he should be eminently projectable. But scouts picked up early on on his shaky stuff, in spite of the imposing mound presence, and nobody ever got all that excited about him.

In spite of his size, his fastball is a pedestrian high-80s model with little in the way of sink, and his knuckle curveball is pretty flat. That said, he was a 21-year-old in AA ball, and he held his own. He’s got good control, if nothing else, and he’s got a few years to learn a sinker, or get some more of that weight behind his pitches.

Travis Hanson - 3B - minor league free agent

     AGE  LG    G   AB    H  2B  3B  HR  BB   SO   AVG  OBP  SLG  K%
2005  24  AA  137  546  155  29   3  20  54   99  .284 .347 .458  18
2006  25 AAA   65  252   57  12   0   2  16   52  .226 .275 .298  21
2006  25  AA   67  223   49  11   1   1  20   43  .220 .282 .291  19

Yikes. I was never that high on Hanson–at least, I don’t remember it, and I’m certainly not that wowed by his performance in hindsight–but as barren as the Cardinals system has been of position players his age-24 power spike made him a prospect by default.

And then this happened. Hanson started the year in AAA, looked awful, was demoted, and–this is the impressive part–managed to continue to suck in exactly the same way. Some sort of bounceback is to be expected, because it’s impossible to be this bad, but I think the main thing is that he was just never that good to begin with; in the two years prior to his breakout he slugged .406 and .335. He’ll be given every chance to stick at AAA, and if he does that he still has a shot at making the big league roster–a big league roster–as a Spiezio-esque utility man. But to realize that dream, he’ll have to get through… Spiezio. And I’m not sure he has the facial hair to do it.