The Hall voters made a statement. Cheaters don’t belong in the Hall of Fame with pitch scuffers Gaylord Perry and Whitey Ford. Performance enhancers don’t belong in the Hall of Fame with amphetamine users Willie Mays and Hank Aaron. Moral degenerates do not belong in the Hall of Fame with racists Cap Anson and Ty Cobb. And illegal drug users do not belong in the Hall of Fame with habitual Volstead Act breaker Babe Ruth. The Hall voters have a duty to protect the sanctity, integrity, and tradition of a game that banned black people until 1947 and treated its players as chattel until free agency hit in the 1970s.

Mind you, the scientific evidence is still out on how much steroids actually help a player. It’s not, as baseball writers would have it, that steroids work like spinach for Popeye, turning scrawny singles hitters into muscle bound homer men. The real reason baseball writers keep voting no on the Hall of Fame ballot is they don’t want these young whippersnappers taking away records set by heroes of the past, back when the current generation of grumpy baseball writers were boys worshipping the ground that Mickey Mantle stumbled drunkly upon. I’ll let Lawyers, Guns & Money blog contributor Scott Lemieux jump in, since he says it better than I could.

That’s the real issue here—players of the 90s were able to obtain records that properly belong to baby boomer icons. That’s primarily what the steroid freakout is about. It’s why moralistic rants about steroids fit so well alongside the umpteenth assertion that fans of the Brooklyn Dodgers were the only baseball fans that have ever mattered. This is why Willie May’s use of Illegal PEDs isn’t an issue and Whitey Ford and Gaylord Perry’s cheating is cute, but the use of steroids should prevent arguably the greatest position player and pitcher ever from being elected to the Hall of Fame (although what Clemens and Bonds did, unlike Whitey Ford’s use of his wedding ring to scuff the ball and make it sing arias, wasn’t actually against the rules.)

Mike Piazza, one of my all time favorite Mets, and the greatest hitting catcher of all time, was kept out of the Hall. He never failed a drug test or was implicated in any reports. But he had back acne, which some say is a sign of steroid use, but is also something not uncommon for a hairy Italian man. Jeff Bagwell, one of the best five first basemen ever, never failed any tests either, but he has big muscles. Even Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, respectively the best player and pitcher born in the 20^th century, were never suspended by Major League Baseball for any failed drug tests, despite all the stories and scandals thrown around, and there was not enough evidence to convict either in a court of law. For today’s baseball writers, it’s guilty until proven innocent.

Finally, it’s instructive to remember that Shoeless Joe Jackson, exonerated in a court of law, is banned from the Hall of Fame while Charles Comiskey, the White Sox owner who habitually paid Joe and his teammates below market value, is a Hall of Famer. And so is Kenesaw Mountain Landis, the commissioner who not only banned Shoeless Joe, but kept black players out of the Major Leagues, thereby personally diluting the talent pool, a much greater degradation of the “integrity, character, and sportsmanship” of baseball than any amount of scientifically indeterminate performance enhancement. Alas, sadly, the Hall of Fame is not for the players or fans, it’s for the rich plutocrat team owners and the courtier press that obsequiously bows to their every whim.

I should mention that this is the same Mark Judge that, in response to having his bicycle stolen near Catholic University in Washington, DC, wrote an earlier column in the Daily Caller shouting from the rooftops that he’s renouncing his white guilt. For a little context, I attended grad school at Catholic U and happen to know the area personally. Catholic U is in Brookland, a very poor and heavily African American neighborhood in DC. Oh, no, Judge never presumes that a (cough) black person stole his bike. He’s not stereotyping. He’s only implying that Brookland is full of enough poor lazy bike stealing black people to safely let go of white guilt. But amazingly, that was only the second worst column Judge has ever written. Let’s look at his steaming turd on Bryce Harper, quite possible the worst thing anyone has ever written about anything.

“Bryce Harper is a Conservative Hero.”

Yes, that is the title. It’s also the article’s lede. Strange. When I watch Bryce Harper, I see a cocky teenager who, yup, named his dog “Swag,” has a faux-hawk haircut, and wears a bit too much eye black, but I don’t care because he has an amazing arm and a sweet swing and I was lucky enough to snag him on my fantasy team when Washington called him up from Triple-A in late April. But what does Judge see when he watches Harper play?

“The star rookie for the Washington Nationals has woken up Major League Baseball, and watching it unfold has reminded me of nothing so much as the collapse of the old political paradigms and the inevitable and upcoming rebirth of conservatism in November.”

I didn’t know it was possible to pull conservative politics out of baseball without reading bow tie wearing gasbag George Effing Will. How does Judge find his conservative fantasy in Bryce Harper?

“This became clear to me on May 26 this year. The Nationals were playing Atlanta, and in the fifth inning Bryce Harper singled to right. The ball was hit to Braves right fielder Jason Heyward. Heyward strolled up to the ball as if he were walking to the corner for a paper. Harper promptly headed for second base. Heyward suddenly woke up and fired to second base, but too late.”

Harper is white. Heyward is black. Not that we are to assume Mark Judge is playing on the negative stereotype of the lazy black man.

“Heyward’s bungle showed a complacency, if not indolence, that Harper threatens to destroy, but it also could be a metaphor for the collapse of the old liberal order. Heyward was like one of those public school teachers who, because they are a union member, can’t be fired and so are relegated to the “rubber room” to sit and read the paper and gather a check for the rest of their lives.”

Black people and teachers are ruining America!

“Watching Bryce Harper play is like listening to an economic speech by Paul Ryan: It’s long on reality and short on excuses. Harper has slapped baseball awake, and every time he steps up to the plate, years of crusty baseball routine no longer apply.”

As Charles Pierce already pointed out,* Bryce Harper was the #1 draft pick in baseball at age 17. Paul Ryan, who wants to cut Medicare and starve your granny, was collecting social security at age 17.

So who’s the next hero Judge trots out? Oh, his own grandfather Joe Judge, who played Major League Baseball in the nineteen teens and twenties, in the glory days back before Jackie Robinson and the rest of those bicycle stealing blacks were allowed in.

“His career spanned two eras, the dead ball era (1900 to 1919) and the live ball era, from 1920 on, when home runs became much more prevalent. When Babe Ruth arrived in New York in 1919 and baseball changed some rules — including using new balls in every game so you could actually see what you were swinging at — Joe Judge could have insisted that this wasn’t fair, that Major League Baseball was stealing his livelihood, and that Ruth’s ungodly salary represented the one percent. He could have occupied Griffith Stadium.

 

Instead, he accepted that the old way of doing things was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. And he helped the Senators win the World Series in 1924.”

Again, to repeat Charles Pierce, Joe Judge had a higher batting average during the live ball era twenties. The only thing keeping him from making an even better wage was the reserve clause keeping him tied to one team with no negotiating leverage, which is probably the economic system Joe Judge’s grandson would like to impose on all Americans, especially those uppity bike stealing blacks.

*For a few more good take-downs of Mark Judge’s shit sandwich, check out David Roth at The Classical, Craig Calcaterra at Hard Ball Talk, and Jim Newell over at Wonkette. And, of course, read Pierce.

Still, as a Mets fan, Johan Santana’s masterpiece felt incredible. It seems right that it would come against the Cardinals, even though this in no way makes up for 2006. It felt right having Carlos Beltran make his return. It felt right for Adam Wainwright to be the losing pitcher.

I don’t have much to add to the game summary. Tyler Kepner offers a nice recap at the Times. Kepner’s colleague George Vecsey, author of Joy in Mudville, a look at the Mets’ first decade, written in 1970 following the Miracle ’69ers, adds some historical context. Joe Posnanski, who might as well be named The Best Baseball Writer in America™, talks about the Mets and no-hitters and sentimental attachment as only Joe Poz could. Finally, Surviving the Citi’s own Craig Glaser wrote an excellent piece in Baseball Prospectus just four short days ago discussing the statistical oddity of the Mets going 8,000 some games without a single pitcher throwing a no-hitter.

Congratulations, Johan. And thank you for a wonderful night!

For the purposes of speed (remember when I said I came to the office to work?), here are the short versions of the two criteria for which MLB games are blacked out (per Wikipedia):

1. “A local broadcaster has priority to televise games of the team in their market over national broadcasters…MLB’s streaming Internet video service is also subject to the same blackout rules, although in the near-future, MLB is rumored to be looking into the possibility of teams and their local broadcasters cutting deals with cable/satellite providers to permit in-market streaming.”  (Note the last part needed citation and a quick search did not provide me with anything even insinuating deals in process.
2. “Fox has certain rights for afternoon MLB games on Saturdays, and ESPN has the same rights for night games on Sundays. Broadcasters cannot show games of in-market teams, regardless of whether the game is home or away, if the game of the local team has a certain start time.”

Regarding the first criteria, this makes little to no sense. While I can force myself to try to understand it for the purposes of the television broadcasts, I cannot for streaming.

I am a Mets fan that lives and works in Brooklyn. I pay for cable at home (which includes costs for SNY, ESPN, FOX and TBS), but can’t always be there. Sometimes I work really late hours and sometimes I work weekends. I pay the $124.99 per year for MLB.tv so I can watch the sport I love when I have five minutes to spare at my desk. Despite all the money I pay into the system, the Mets are blacked out because I’m not watching “my local broadcast.” Newsflash: I actually AM watching my local broadcast. I’m just not watching my locally paid advertising.

The second criteria makes me want to vomit — the exclusive time slot. “Park yourself in front of the TV, boys and girls! It’s time to watch Uncle Joe and “Uncle” Tim banter about what a balk isn’t for three hours!” Why can’t I park myself in front of my iPad and do that?

The solutions here for local broadcasts seem relatively simple — work out a deal where streaming viewers are watching the local advertising. If you can pinpoint my location to inform me that I’m in a blackout restricted market, certainly you can pinpoint it and blast Giuseppe Franco commercials my way. Naturally there are some more complicated markets like parts of Ohio and Maryland. Give them local ads as well based on the broadcasts they get per current televised area restrictions.

FOX broadcasts should receive similar treatment. Pinpoint where I am, give me the Yankees playing the Red Sox or whichever of the other two you want to give me based on archaic regional restrictions, and throw ads in my face. I don’t fucking care about being shown ads. I tolerate them on TV, I tolerate them on the subway, and just like I tolerate the blue screen MLB uses instead of commercials now, I will tolerate them on my computer/phone/tablet. I pay for cable, Internet access in multiple locations, MLB.tv, merchandise and tickets to around 20 games per year at different stadiums. What more do you want from me? I just want to see my team play.

MLB, ESPN, FOX, TBS, local networks and advertisers everywhere need to get their heads out of their collective asses. Blacking out these games does two things very well: limits exposure for ALL OF THEM and pisses people off. If they want to cap growth at where they’re at then they are foolish. It’s an arcane system that needs a fix, and just like the game has evolved, so to should the way league and its media affiliates broadcast it.

• The real life baseball clips were great, especially the opening scene. It is never not a good thing to portray the Yankees as bad guys.

• Jonah Hill’s Peter Brand is almost a pitch perfect character. The awkwardness around Pitt’s Billy Beane and then the scouts is great. I liked the scene in the scouting room where Billy Beane asks Brand a question and Brand says, “You want me to answer?” and when Beane says yes, Brand says, “He gets on base.”

• And speaking of those scouts, the movie probably overdid its portrayal of those grizzled tobacco spitting men who look down on advanced stats. But the exaggeration was probably necessary to promote the sabermetric viewpoint to a mass audience with a lot of non-baseball fans.

• While Moneyball rightly highlighted small market Oakland’s money struggles through the loss of big name free agents Jason Giambi, Johnny Damon, and Jason Isringhausen, it skipped over good players still on the team like shortstop Miguel Tejada, the eventual 2002 AL MVP, and the superstar pitching rotation of Tim Hudson, Mark Mulder, and eventual 2002 Cy Young winner Barry Zito. I know those players were beside the point of Moneyball’s main thesis, but it probably wouldn’t have hurt to mention that Oakland had some pretty good players to begin with and Beane’s underrated additions like Scott Hatteberg, Chad Bradford, and David Justice helped their highly talented teammates reach the playoffs, instead of hinting that the sabermetric heroes were the major reason for Oakland’s success.

• I loved that Scott Hatteberg was played by Chris Pratt, who plays the hilariously goofy Andy Dwyer on Parks and Recreation, and I got chills when he hit that game winning homerun. But you could argue that stubborn manager Art Howe was right to ignore Beane and play Carlos Pena at first base over Hatteberg, since Pena did go on to become an All-Star, and has had the type of career Billy Beane would be proud of as a power hitter who walks and is wrongly looked down on by the anti-SABR traditionalists who obsess over batting average.

• I liked the scene where Beane and Brand are talking to the players and opening their eyes to how the new stats can help them. “No bunting.” “If they bunt, we throw it to first base and say thank you for the out.” If just one high school coach stops sacrifice bunting because of this scene, then Moneyball will be a success.

• The closing was poignant. The radio talking heads bashing Billy Beane after Oakland’s divisional series loss highlight how people will always resist new ways of thinking, using the tiniest failure as a trump card over vast evidence of success, as if a five game series playoff loss is a better measure than 162 games of regular season greatness.

• One message I hope people don’t take away is the (false) idea that Moneyball is just about getting fat players who walk a lot but can’t field. Moneyball is about exploiting market inefficiencies. Great players like the 2002 version of Jason Giambi will always be in demand; that’s why rich teams like the Yankees will overpay and poor teams like the A’s will let him leave thru free agency. But at the time, flawed players who got on base a lot were undervalued. Someone like Scott Hatteberg could provide a few million dollars worth of value for $900,000. Now, everyone values on base percentage, so the smart teams, the new Moneyball teams, are teams like the Tampa Bay Rays, who realized that defense was undervalued and put together playoff teams in 2008, 2010, and 2011. Moneyball is about teams finding undervalued players and getting more production than they paid for.

I’m not here to reopen or continue the grating debate about Morris’s candidacy. I’m with Joe Posnanski; I think Morris is a very good player who falls short. But two out of three Hall voters think Morris should be in and next year he’s going to get in, even if his supporters have unfortunately used lazy arguments like Jon Heyman’s “he pitched to the score” and Dan Shaughnessy’s “you had to be there.” (To be fair to Heyman, he’s a “you had to be there” guy too.)

But this isn’t about Jack Morris, who, either way, should be celebrated for having a wonderful career, a Swanson-esque mustache, and, yes, that defining Game 7 masterpiece. Morris is a borderline Hall candidate, no better, no worse, than Andre Dawson and Jim Rice, two recent electees, or Dale Murphy and Don Mattingly, two candidates still waiting on the outside. These and other very good players of Jack Morris’s caliber are elected and not elected every year. They’re not so great as to hurt the Hall of Fame by their absence but still good enough players that their enshrinement would bring honor upon the Hall.

Here’s what Jack Morris and Jim Rice and Dale Murphy are not, though. They are not among the very best baseball players of all time. Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens are. Bonds has a case as the greatest hitter ever, Clemens as the best pitcher in history. Even the writers who did vote yes for Morris (many of whom won’t vote for Clemens or Bonds) would concede that Clemens, Bonds, and probably ten more players on the ballot are better than Morris. Jack Morris, himself, would concede that, too.

***

My high school had a sports banquet each spring to honor all of the JV and varsity sports teams. Each varsity coach awarded one player on his team an MVP trophy. Officially, the MVP was for the best player. In reality, it went to the best player who happened to be a senior. Usually the best player on your high school basketball or football or baseball team is a senior. Sometimes it’s a junior or sophomore. But the idea was that a deserving underclassman should wait his turn because he would get his chance as a senior.

Of course, when undeserving seniors did get MVPs, everyone knew what it meant, especially the honored award winners.

***

There’s not much that hasn’t been said about the steroid issue. Some, myself included, see the PED controversy in the context of its era and, absent clear evidence of absolute guilt or innocence, believe it’s best to pick Hall of Famers based on what happened on the field. Some try and figure out which players needed steroids to post Hall of Fame caliber stats and which players were already Hall worthy before they started doping. Jon Heyman, despite his poor “pitchin’ to the score” Jack Morris advocacy, intelligently argues this nuanced position and says he will give a yes vote to Barry Bonds, because Bonds had a Hall of Fame career before he allegedly started roidin.’ Others take the Shaughnessy approach and think all confirmed steroid users should be banned from the Hall. I don’t agree, but I can respect this argument. Some go further and say anyone accused or circumstantially linked to PEDs should be barred, an argument even harder to justify. And finally there are those who take the Ken Gurnick approach and won’t vote for anyone from the steroid era.

Many more voters fall into the Shaughnessy camp than the Posnanski or Rob Neyer camp. We’re going to see a lot of great players like Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa never get inducted. The Hall of Fame is going to be without Manny Ramirez, one of the greatest right handed hitters of all time. Unless more of the anti-steroid folk take the Heyman position than the Shaughnessy stance, even Bonds and Clemens, Hall-caliber players before they (allegedly) ‘roided, will be on the outside looking in. And Jeff Bagwell, the best first baseman between the careers of Lou Gehrig and Albert Pujols, who has never been connected to PEDs, is still waiting for the Cooperstown call, because he has big muscles (I kid you not).

Today’s Hall of Fame voters have chosen to do with steroids what voters from previous generations chose (I believe rightly) not to do with greenies and amphetamines and ball scuffing. Because of the current voting pattern, most of an entire generation’s best players will be left out of the Hall of Fame.

It’s a shame that when Ken Griffey Jr. and Derek Jeter and Greg Maddux and Pedro Martinez get elected to the Hall, the first thought won’t be “baseball is honoring some of the greatest players of all time” but “these are the ‘good’ guys who played the ‘right’ way,” which is patronizing because it turns these living legends into gritty Ecksteins (and besides being patronizing, has no guarantee of accuracy, since they did play during the steroid era, so there’s no telling for sure than any given player didn’t cheat). And it’s a shame that when, yes, Jack Morris gets elected next year, the first thought won’t be “a very good career is validated as something special,” but “Jack is the token good guy that had to be elected to have a 2013 Hall of Fame ceremony  because a bunch of better players used steroids.” Jack Morris, borderline Hall of Fame candidate, deserves better than being the token senior who gets an MVP over the arbitrarily ineligible sophomore.

The “Beltran’s value” piece has been written about numerous times by people that are far better equipped to analyze baseball than I. Let’s just consider this a bit of an update for dummies.

According to Fangraphs, Carlos Beltran has been worth 27.6 29.2 WAR since he joined the Mets in 2005. If you prefer Baseball Reference’s calculation he’s been worth 30.6 WAR by their math. I’m going to use the more conservative estimate.

The supposed whale of a contract signed by Beltran was worth $119 million over the course of seven years. Converting fWAR to dollars, he has been worth $113.3 ~$119.8 million . If we take into account the theory that the team may have had to overpay to get Beltran, then the man has already been worth the deal if he opts to stop playing today. (Note: Fangraphs updated some numbers that weren’t there the time this post was written. Updates as of 5/25 next to figures that have been struck-through.)

But he won’t stop because he’s Calos MF’n Beltran! If we extrapolate Beltran’s current season (1.7 1.8 fWAR) based on his play and the number of games he’s started (40), he could potentially be worth ~5.9 ~6.2 fWAR over the course of 2011. How much is that worth? Around $26.6 ~$27.9 million, and that’s using the estimate that a win in 2011 is worth ~$4.5 million dollars. Should that happen, Beltran will have been worth $132.2 ~$147.7 million over the course of his contract, or $13.2 $28.7 million more than he signed for.

Let’s say 6.2 fWAR is a bit on the optimistic side. If Carlos were to only be worth another 1.8 fWAR over the rest of this season, his 3.6 WAR year would be worth ~$16.2 million. That would bring his value to ~$136 million over his full contract term, or $17 million more than he was paid.

So please mongos, enough with #BlameBeltran contract talk. Get your “called-third-strike-blinders” off and enjoy the man while he’s here. You’re going to miss that contract when he’s gone.

Creative Commons photo by Keith Allison.

Did you know that Joe Buck, my partner, the man standing piously beside me, is the only announcer in the world to see ARod eating popcorn from Cameron Diaz and fastballs from Brad Penny? It’s true! He’s unique. It’s probably why he was a Twitter trending topic during Saturday’s FOX Saturday baseball game. He hasn’t had a moment this big since he shit his pants after Randy Moss’ fake mooning.

Oh did I tell you about my partner down on the field Ken Rosenthal? Ken’s doing a good impression of Charles Osgood. Get it? He’s wearing a bowtie. (Look how cultured I am for watching CBS Sunday Morning, the closest network television ever comes to PBS. And speaking of bowties, there’s no way I’m mentioning that blue jean hating, “look at me slumming it and writing about baseball,” George Will.)

During Saturday’s telecast I mentioned that just five players have reached the 3000 hit club playing for one team. They’re all Hall of Famers, of course. Derek Jeter will be the sixth. And best.

Oh, what’s that? Some people are saying Jeter will be the 10^th guy to get 3000 all with one team? Or that Jeter will only be the 14^th to get 3000 with his first team? Stop it! Jeter will be the sixth! I don’t care what all those guys in their mothers’ basements say. As lead baseball broadcaster in America, I have the right to not do a simple Google search before I speak authoritatively.

And that Austin Jackson on the Tigers. Oh what a player! Two from the field. One if by sea, two from the field. I’m the Paul Revere of baseball announcing. What the heck am I talking about? Oh that’s right, Austin Jackson, coming off a great rookie season. The last time a Detroit rookie scored that many runs, it was 1939, and Ted Williams was a rookie in the American League, not just a disembodied head in a jar.

Oh I talked to Hall of Famer Jim Palmer the other day. He told me something striking. It’s the most profound insight I’ve ever heard. He says one thing pitchers try not to be is a carousel on the mound. They try to be a Ferris Wheel. Tune in next week to FOX Saturday Baseball and listen to me over explain.

First guessing every play is getting old. So, yes, my knew shtick this season is going to be name dropping old baseball guys I talk to and sharing their anecdotes as if it’s groundbreaking knowledge. And Charles Osgood bowtie references!

Oh, I forgot to make my 2011 season predictions. Here goes:

NL East – Phillies

NL Central – Reds

NL West – Giants

MVP – Pujols

AL East – Yankees

AL Central – White Sox

AL West – Rangers

MVP – Jeter♥

Best Smile – Jeff Francoeur

Grittiest – David Eckstein

And, of course, I predict the Yankees will win the World Series thanks to the intangible drive of Derek Jeter, who will become the 6^th (10^th?) (14^th?) player to get 3000 hits with one team as he continues his drive to become my most beloved player ever.

Tim McCarver is a former Major League baseball catcher, and a current sportscaster for Fox Sports. During the off-season he resides in Maine, where plays the open mic every Wednesday at Roscoe’s Rocking Railroad Buffet, where it’s “all-aboard” for reasonably priced entertainment.

“When I was a kid we had a rotary phone. We had a phone that you had to stand next to, and you had to dial it. Do you realize how primitive that is? You’re making sparks in a phone — and you would actually hate people with zero’s in their numbers because it was more [work]. ‘Ah that guy’s got two zeros, screw that guy!’ And then if they called when you weren’t home, the phone would just ring lonely by itself…

…Now we live in an amazing, amazing world, and it’s wasted on the crappiest generation of just spoiled idiots that don’t care. Because this is what people are like now: they got their phone and they’re like ‘Ewwww, it won’t [whines]…’

Give it a second! It’s going to space! Can you give it a second to get back from space?! Is the speed of light too slow for you?!”

This morning when the Jason Bay news broke, my Twitter feed was sated with whiny comments. Go ahead and search “Jason Bay” on Twitter and see what you come up with:

“Mets 2011 season over before it starts….goodbye Jason Bay.”

“So the Mets season didn’t start yet and Jason Bay is already on the DL. I give up man, I really do…”

“Jason Bay: Making me want to kill myself since 2010.”

Really?

When I questioned the general malaise surrounding the news as premature, Joel G. of Roto Hardball tossed back a response (in two parts) after some back and forth:

“I want to see how Emaus does, see if Ike mashes taters even more frequently, see Thole become a solid backstop, see Niese grow…I could go on. But none of it would involve an overpaid aging corner outfielder with underwhelming power.”

Joel nailed it. Isn’t this what we should all be feeling right now? We’ve ditched our conjectured rotary phones. Right now we’ve got something decent going on with people in charge that seem to know what they’re doing. “Plan B” means more than just a hypothetical morning after pill we wished existed to rid ourselves of “that’s baseball” stupidity. It means options abound should the need arise. Considering where we were on Opening Day last year, we as fans should be happy with how this team stands now.

Games haven’t even started yet; can we give this team a second?