Lost in Translation

I recently moved to a new city for job-related reasons (i.e, I didn't have a job, and I could have one if I moved to this new city). Among other joys, this sequence of events reacquainted me with the many and varied pains of relocation and the requisite partially awkward introductory conversations with new coworkers. These conversations inevitably touch on my recent move.

Naturally, I start bitching to my new colleagues about how moving is like trying to crap a kangaroo. It's memorable, but in entirely unpleasant ways. This often leads to one of the following questions: Are you married? or Do you have a family? The basic intent of both questions is the same. If I answer "yes" to one or both, then I've earned more points on the "moving unpleasantness scale." Yes, my better half has to find a job here. I hated to drag the kids away from their friends and into another school district, but...

So, when I say, "No, I'm not married" or "No, I came by myself" my new coworkers express joy -- bordering on jealousy -- that I was able to move without worrying about the concerns of my spouse or children. And, while I know their comments are coming from the right place, when they say, "Oh, that's great that you're single" what I hear instead is: "You're alone! And you get to not have sex EVER! You lucky son of a bitch!"

Small Ball

If you want to know how the Pittsburgh Pirates will finally change their losing ways, you'll need to sit through two history lessons. One is relatively recent, and the other takes us back to the days of "Give 'Em Hell" Harry S. Truman and Howdy Doody.

Our recent history lesson involves Nate McLouth, who was traded to the Braves for Gorkys Hernandez, Charlie Morton, and Jeff Locke this past week. McLouth, an All Star in 2008 and the current face of the franchise (having replaced the former face of the franchise, Jason Bay, who was traded to the Red Sox last summer), was one of the few legitimate power threats in the Pirates lineup. He was well-liked on the team and in the community. Clearly, he needed to go. The Braves needed outfield help, and Pirates management felt like the Hernandez, Morton, and Locke offering was a steal. Pirates fans have been down this road before. For these sorts of trades to benefit the Pirates, they need at least two of the three players to turn into quality major league starters. Otherwise, you're just hitting the snooze button on your next winning season. Unfortunately, the Pirates have such a poor scouting department that our 3-for-1 deals generally turn out to be 0.5-for-1 deals at best.

So, what do the Pirates do? Signing Indian "pitchers" probably ain't gonna cut it. And, that brings us to history lesson #2 and one Eddie Gaedel. Eddie's entire major league career consisted of one plate appearance in the 1951 season, during which he walked on four pitches. This was essentially a foregone conclusion, as Eddie was a 3' 7" dwarf and presented a miniscule strike zone to the opposing pitcher. The publicity stunt was designed by St. Louis Browns owner, Bill Veeck, and was staged on the 50th anniversary of the American League. Eddie engaged in a few more promotions for Veeck, but never again appeared in a major league game. And, if you want to read some depressing stuff, be sure to check out the "Later Life" section in Gaedel's wikipedia entry.

Okay, so forget the part about Eddie having a heart attack after getting mugged, and ponder the following question: what if you had a bunch of Eddie Gaedels on your team? Here's what I'm thinking: you have a pitching staff (starters & pen) composed of standard size adult males, along with a standard size catcher, center fielder, shortstop, and first baseman. Everybody else is a little person in a Pirates uniform.

Look, you're gonna bleed runs like, well, like most recent Pirates teams have. Your defensive range at most positions will stink and your pitchers are going to labor like hell to make it to the 7th inning. So, your bullpen would need to change. Keep a closer and a lefty specialist. Everybody else is long relief (cheap arms!), and you might as well carry 12 pitchers just to be safe. That gives you five long relief guys in your pen to deal with the inevitable 14-10 barn burners. Your team ERA will be atrocious, and games will be interminable.

But, man, what an offense. Here's the revamped Bucs lineup I'd like to trot out:

1. Little person, 2B
2. Little person, SS
3. Little person, RF
4. Adrian Gonzalez, 1B
5. Ryan Doumit, C
6. Jimmy Rollins, SS
7. Andrew McCutcheon, CF
8. Little person, LF
9. Pitcher

You've got a lot of pop in the middle of the lineup, and hopefully the little people do a fine job of setting the plate for the big boys. There's reason to believe their on-base percentages will be .600 or higher. They're going to walk more often than not, and after a while, opposing pitchers will just start throwing at them. (If you're going to walk the guy on 4 pitches, why not just drill him with the first? Saves your arm and is much more satisfying.) Since you're carrying 12 pitchers, you've only got 5 bench spots. Sign as many utility guys with good defensive skills as you can, so you can make a bunch of defensive subs late in games in which you hold a lead. Note that since you're only carrying four little people on your roster, you can easily field a conventional-sized team should circumstances dictate it (i.e., one of your starters becomes dominant and can regularly win 2-1 games).

What will it take to assemble this roster? Let's begin by assuming that you can find 4 athletic little people willing to work for the Major League minimum salary ($400k). The Bucs would still need to acquire Gonzalez and Rollins.

Suppose you're Adrian Gonzalez and a GM approaches you and says, "Yo Adrian, how would you like to come to the plate in the first inning with three guys on and no outs, every time? And, oh by the way, the opposing pitcher has already thrown about a dozen pitches and is flustered as hell?" Suppose Kevin Towers is offered Adam LaRoche, Neil Walker, and Daniel Moskos in exchange. Will there be any backlash in San Diego as a result of the trade? Of course not. The weather's great and the women are gorgeous. What's to complain about? So, Towers pulls the trigger on the trade and Adrian is happy to be shipped to Pittsburgh because he's already envisioning a 190 RBI season. Gonzalez makes a very reasonable $3M in '09 and $4.75M in '10 with a club option for $5.5M in '11. Now, we need Jimmy Rollins. We send Jack Wilson, Jarek Cunningham, and Tyler Yates to the Phils in exchange for the declining (but still good) Rollins. Jimmy makes $7.5M this year and next, and $8.5M in '11.

The Bucs keep Andy LaRoche ($413.5k), Nyjer Morgan ($411.5k), Delwyn Young ($406k), Luis Cruz ($401.5k), and Robinson Diaz ($401k) on the bench. (All salaries for '09 season). All other position players (Brandon Moss, Freddy Sanchez, etc.) and most of the bullpen get traded for prospects.

Let's suppose that the Pirates pitching staff stays mostly intact, with the exception of the revamped bullpen. Here's the pitching staff and their '09 salaries:

Paul Maholm, SP, $2M
Ian Snell, SP, $3M
Zach Duke, SP, $2.2M
Ross Ohlendorf, SP, $0.4135M
Jeff Karstens, SP, $0.4015M

Matt "The Mad Crapper" Capps, closer, $2.3M
John Grabow, lefty specialist, $2.3M
Sean Burnett, long relief, $0.4085M
Warm body, long relief, $0.750M
Warm body, long relief, $0.750M
Warm body, long relief, $0.750M
Warm body, long relief, $0.750M

What's the total damage? The little people set you back $1.6M, the full-size regulars cost roughly $13M (no info. on McCutcheon's salary), the backups cost a tick over $2M, and the price tag on the bullpen is about $6M. Which brings the total player payroll to $22.6M, a number that would make even Kevin McClatchy smile.

Yes, I'm overlooking a ton of things. Would any team really want to pay all of Jack Wilson's $7.25M salary? Of course not. The Bucs would need to eat some portion of that. (But, really, if the thing that most upsets you about this post is the financial implications of some of my trade ideas, you're taking things way too seriously. Fix yourself a drink. Go find a hooker. Just stop reading.) By the way, all of the salary information in this post came from Cot's Baseball Contracts. Definitely check it out if you're a baseball fan.

With my plan, not only do you get a (hopefully) competitive team on the cheap, just think of all of the promotional possibilities. Hire Gary Coleman to be your color guy. (I swear... I swear on my non-racist grandmother's grave, that's a joke about Gary Coleman's size and not his race. What, did you want me to make a joke about the Rice twins, may John Rice rest in peace?) Instead of bobbleheads, you could give away life-size versions of actual players. And what heartless bastard wouldn't be rooting for the little people? Who doesn't like an underdog, especially one that's smaller than the average dog?

The best part of this scheme is that it helps the Pirates in the two areas they struggle most: talent identification/development and payroll. The organization can save money for a few years so they can go after B-level free agents rather than the C/D stuff they've been chasing for the past decade. They have time to develop the few prospects in their system, and when they do miraculously develop a decent player (Nate McLouth, for instance), they can more safely engage in those 3-for-1 deals because they have fewer non-little-people positions to worry about.

Make no mistake. This is not a long-term solution. Nor is it a solution that will lead to a championship. What it might lead to is a fun-to-watch team that has a chance to flirt with .500 and set a new record for highest team ERA over a season. The current system is unsustainable. We don't have the talent to be competitive now, and we don't have the talent in the pipeline to be competitive in the next 2 years. We don't have management that's willing to bump the payroll to $80M. And, we don't have the trading chips to stockpile a bunch of minor league talent. Something radical is required, and it's not the swap of Nate McLouth for some guy named Gorkys. The Pirates can't seem to win, let alone win big. Perhaps they should try to win small instead.

What IS a fire hydrant?

Purchasing insurance policies is never fun. Never. First, you're spending money on a product that you hope you will never use. Second, you're generally forced to consider unpleasant circumstances that might befall you: car accidents, property damage, lawsuits, property theft, identity theft, serious illness, death, or some combination of the preceding. Third, during the interview, you're often asked a series of ridiculous questions. While the answers to these questions are necessary to accurately calculate a premium, they're often difficult to answer accurately. For instance, while researching renter's insurance policies recently, I was asked to estimate the percentage of my housing that was brick. Sadly, there was no check box with the option, "What percentage of your brain thinks I have any f***ing clue?"

During this same interview, I was asked for the distance to the nearest fire hydrant. The words "fire hydrant" had a link, and I hoped that if I clicked the link, I would be offered some guidance on what to do in the event that I did not know the location of the nearest hydrant. Instead, this is what I was offered:


Rather than showing this picture with the accompanying explanatory information, might I suggest that the insurance company provide the following recommendation:

If you do not know what a fire hydrant is, you should not be buying renter's insurance. In fact, you should not be using this computer. Please sit in a room by yourself until you expire.

"can be any color." That's the part that really killed me.

Yep, that’s about right: the Pirates 12-17 start

As long-time baseball fans know, it’s customary to assess the state of one’s team after it has played 29 games. Don’t read that first sentence again. It won’t make any additional sense the second time. After a 12-17 start, it’s as good a time as any to take stock of your 2009 Pittsburgh Pirates. Since I’m lazy and I need a gimmick to get me through this post, I’m going to break things down according to what’s gone right and what’s gone oh-so-wrong.

GONE RIGHT: The Pirates began the season 11-7. Fueled by solid starting pitching, the Bucs started the season respectably. For a time, the Pirates pitching staff led the league in ERA and quality starts. No, seriously.

GONE WRONG: The Bucs have gone 1-10 after their 11-7 start. Given the aura of loserdom that clings to the organization, it’s all too easy to say, “here we go again” when the Pirates drop 43 games in a row or fail to record a hit in 97 consecutive innings. Pirates skipper John Russell thinks this is unfair (as reported here)

Teams go through it. We’re not the only team that struggles to score runs. Everybody does it. You go through a stretch. Unfortunately, the Pirates, it gets magnified more because of all the streaks they talk about and stuff like that.

To which my father retorted, “But when do you guys follow a 1-10 stretch with a 9 game winning streak?” Mr. Russell didn’t have an answer for this, though in his defense, he was on television and likely did not hear my dad’s question.

GONE RIGHT: The Zach Duke resurgence: When Duke burst onto the scene in late 2005, he appeared to be the staff ace that the Pirates lacked since the days of Doug Drabek. In 14 starts, he posted an 8-2 record, with a 1.81 ERA. Naturally, the following spring training, then pitching coach Jim Colborn decided to overhaul Duke’s mechanics. Because success simply will not be tolerated in these here parts.

In the 2006-2008 seasons, Duke posted a collective 18-37 record while the Pirates went through pitching coaches the way a bored puppy plows through shoes. The 2009 season marked the arrival of pitching coach Joe Kerrigan, father of America’s ice-skating sweetheart, Nancy Kerrigan. Actually, I made up that last part (the father part, that is. I stand by the sweetheart remark. Boy, I can already see the vitriolic comments from Michelle Kwan fans.) I don’t really care if Zach’s resurgence is tied to the arrival of Joe Kerrigan; I’m just happy that Duke appears to be on the right path once more. Though he only has a 3-3 record, the other numbers look good so far: 1.17 WHIP, 2.79 ERA.

(Before moving on, I’d like to mention that one of the few perks of being a Pirates fan is the opportunity to conduct the following search in google: “zach duke colborn tinker mechanics.”)

GONE WRONG: The Ryan Doumit injury: Though it’s tempting, I won’t crow that I predicted this in my Pirates season preview. Because foretelling that Doumit will be injured is like predicting that Minka Kelly will not publicly declare her love for me. They’re both pretty safe bets. While we’re here, I would wager that a handful of toddlers in the Pittsburgh area can claim the following as their first complete sentence, “The Pirates retroactively placed Ryan Doumit on the 15-day DL earlier today.” Hey, the little people learn by hearing the same thing over and over and over…

GONE RIGHT: Nyjer Morgan has been competent: Maybe “competent” is too slight praise. He’s been solid. I’d still prefer to have Jason Bay patrolling left (he’s posting some big numbers for the Sox this year), but Nyjer has been a pleasant surprise. He’s posted a .308 average, notched 8 steals (though he’s been caught 4 times), and has 13 RBIs hitting primarily out of the leadoff spot. Not bad for someone once referred to as “poo poo platter” in my household.

GONE WRONG: The Brandon Moss experience: The new poo poo platter? .185 AVG, 0 HR, 3 RBI in 81 at bats. I hate to do this to Brandon and to Pirates fans, but if you prorate Derek Bell’s stats from his legendary 2001 season, here’s what they look like over 81 at bats: .173 AVG, 3 HR, 7 RBI. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a nightmare tonight in which Derek Bell luxuriously strokes a cat in a large leather chair while telling a quaking Brandon Moss, “You and I. . . we are not so different.”

So, what does that 12-17 record equate to over 162 games? A 67-95 record. If that sounds familiar, it’s because the Pirates have gone 67-95, 68-94, and 67-95 in the last three years. And, so my question to you is this: have you ever seen another machine that runs so very consistently and yet is so very broken?

How to drink with The Dude, Part 2

When this month's Playboy arrived, I noticed that they've also said a little bit about drinking while watching The Big Lebowski as part of the Vodka section in "The Drinking Man's Guide to Cinema." Since I thought that some of you would be interested, here it is:

VODKA
Drink While Watching: The Big Lebowski, the 1998 Coen brothers ode to slack and bowling that made the white russian cool again. The Dude (Jeff Bridges) is seldom without a glass (or a joint) as he seeks retribution for the defiling of a rug that "really tied the room together, man." Becostumed superfans (a.k.a. achievers) gather annualy for Lebowski Fest. This year it's May 7 and 8, in Los Angeles (lebowskifest.com).
Necessary Equipment: Two ounces of vodka, one ounce of Kahlúa and one ounce of half and half on the rocks. Use nondairy creamer instead and it's called a caucasian. Sip yours every time someone says "dude."
More Vodka, Please: Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) reminds us what an underrated goddess Karen Allen is as she drinks a giant goon under the table in Nepal and out-sloshes a Frenchman in Egypt.

Let's avoid supporting evil.

Oh, you know the type. It’s the guy walking down the street in Mt. Lebanon wearing a North Carolina Tarheels jersey. He’s on his way to watch the title game. He went to college at Grove City, and now he works in Pittsburgh. He’s never been to North Carolina’s campus, and neither have any of his friends or family members. But he really likes North Carolina, especially when they advance to the title game. Oh yeah, and he’s a total Pitt-hater and likes to talk shit when people wear Pitt clothing to a bar in Pittsburgh.

Few things in sports are more wrong than acting like an asshole in someone else’s town. If I go to see Pitt play at Georgetown, I’m not going to give shit to people in DC for being Georgetown fans. Why not? Because I’m not an asshole. Because it’s perfectly natural for people to like their home teams. And it’s fun to meet interesting people of other persuasions. Additionally, people like to watch their teams, and they like to cheer for them with other fans. Why would I try to ruin other people’s good times by being a negative hater? After all, what did I expect? That everyone would be a Pitt fan everywhere I traveled? Ridiculous. But that’s what Mr. Mt. Lebanon expects—he thinks that everyone should be a North Carolina fan today, and a Yankees fan tomorrow because that’s the “cool” thing to do. In reality, it’s about as “cool” as being a big Monsanto backer.

North Carolina basketball is an awful affliction from which this country may never recover. Any indifferent viewer can see that referees favor the Tarheels at any opportunity. Tyler Hansbrough merely has to set foot in the paint without scoring in order to set off a chorus of whistles. It doesn’t matter if he traveled before his shot or if he had any contact with a player from the opposing team. Since he’s the North Carolina big man, it’s simply inconceivable that he could simply have missed a shot. The rules of the game don’t apply for North Carolina—their coach can throw louder tantrums, their players can throw more needless elbows and shove opponents out of bounds. The result of the play will inevitably be a foul or a travel on the player North Carolina shoved. Why do people like a team like this when it amounts to the same thing as liking the Evil Empire in Star Wars? And do you seriously believe that UConn is the only team committing recruiting violations like that? I have no doubt that North Carolina’s done worse, and further, that officials look the other way because it would just be too much of a splash to put mighty UNC on probation.

And most importantly, what’s the point of liking whatever big-program team looks good these days? Bandwagon fans have no connection to the teams they support just as they have no connection to reality itself. I like Pitt because I grew up in a suburb of Pittsburgh, because I’ve watched their sports teams religiously since infancy, because I worked there, earned a graduate degree there, and because I grew up around the campus since my mom taught there for thirty years and since we had season tickets in the old Pitt Stadium. I have a legit connection to the university and to the teams that represent it. This kind of connection, even if it is as insignificant as having visited a place frequently, adds something to fandom. There’s a real reason for liking this team, a connection to something beyond the fact that the team happens to be good this year. I know that some people have that kind of connection to North Carolina; that’s great and I wish them well. But the poser walking around Mt. Lebanon showing off his brand new North Carolina jersey and running his mouth should turn around and go home.

I’m not a fan of either team playing for the national title tonight. Still, I say, “GO SPARTANS!”

How to drink with The Dude

Every so often, I feel the need to spend some time thinking about how to supplement my already vast appreciation for The Big Lebowski by adding the element of a drinking game.

Having a White Russian each time The Dude makes one in the film seems to be the most popular approach, but White Russians are nasty, coffee-laden concoctions that could manipulate my gag reflex as easily as Monica Lewinsky manipulated Slick Willy’s ding-dong. And I’m trying to augment my enjoyment of the film, not turn it into a bigger disaster than Rod Marinelli’s career as an NFL head coach.

The problem with such an absolute rejection of the White Russian is that it’s the signature drink of The Big Lebowski—it’s what The Dude likes to drink. But there are a few scenes in the bowling alley where The Dude seems to be drinking shitty light beer. So maybe it’s possible for me to kick back with a bunch of PBR tall boys and still have at least a reasonable claim of non-poserdom, if not one of experiential authenticity. At least now I know my beverage of choice.

But I’m still left with the problem of the game itself. I’ve thought about taking a swig of PBR every time someone swears, but I don’t want to end up on the floor before The Dude even meets the other Jeffrey Lebowski. A swig each time someone says “dude” or “Dude” could put me in the same predicament. Perhaps a more substantial swig each time someone mentions The Dude’s rug or his car could put me in the ideal sort of pig to shit ratio that would produce Dude-vana.

Ultimately, though, I think that the best thing is to get together a few people, a case of PBR, and The Big Lebowski. It could be a wet-run of sorts, the kind of thing where we figure out what might work and what will crash more violently than the Dallas Cowboys’ playoff train. Who’s with me?