Month: May 2010

Aaron Harang, Greg Maddux, Morgan Ensberg, Sign stealing

A New Angle on Sign Stealing

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Morgan Ensberg was a big-leaguer for eight seasons, an All-Star in 2005. Now retired, he wants to join the media.

The first step in this endeavor is a blog, Morgan Ensberg’s Baseball IQ, on which he posts articles and interacts with fans. Yesterday, he wrote about the same Jerry Crasnick article I referenced for this site (in which Crasnick interviewed three prominent pitchers about the unwritten rules)—only Ensberg approached it from the standpoint of a hitter.

One thing he said—not in the article, but in response to a reader comment—caught my attention: “Stealing signs from second is mostly done out of the pitcher’s glove . . . not the catcher’s signs.”

This blew me away. In more than 200 interviews with big leaguers and ex-big leaguers as research for The Baseball Codes, not one of them mentioned this facet of sign stealing.

I quickly got Ensberg on the phone to discuss this most specialized of skills. Here’s what he said:

You’re leading off at second base; estimate you’re probably around 30 feet from the pitcher. If the pitcher hasn’t been taught to protect it, you can see everything that’s in his glove. You can see his hands, you can see his fingers, you can see the ball, you can see the seams.

Generally, pitchers will hold ball in same spot in the glove. On certain pitches you can see some red from the seam, but on other pitches you don’t see the seam. You might see something in the way he holds his glove. All this is just patterns. I’ve been at second base 100,000 times in my life, and learned to pick up patterns in the way a pitcher grips a baseball.

Greg Maddux gripped the majority of his pitches out of the same ball placement within the glove. He’d put the ball in the same spot, the seams in the same spot within his glove. He was able to develop what looked like a changeup grip 100 percent of the time, but as he started to pitch, he adjusted his grip and we wouldn’t be able to see what was being thrown.

Clearly he was aware that baserunners were trying to look into the glove, so he developed a thing where every single grip would start out as a changeup grip, and then he’d adjust it once he started his motion, and we’d lose it.

Pitchers can prevent this simply by angling their hands; instead of the knuckles of their glove hand facing the plate, they can turn them toward either first or third base to shield them from the runner at second.

Ensberg also addressed the notion that not every hitter wants to know what’s coming. Like, say, Ensberg himself. He described an instance of a pitcher’s tell that he once picked up from the plate.

Aaron Harang with the Reds used to have his glove straight up on a fastball and sideways on off-speed out of the windup, 100 percent of the time. You don’t get opportunities like this, ever. It was the most blatant example I’ve ever seen. I see his glove go fastball, first pitch, and he came in at 92, a four-seamer at chest height. I came out of my shoes, swinging and missing.

I thought, what are you doing? That ball’s up under my chin. I step back in. He goes into his windup and he does it again—fastball again, chest high. I come out of my shoes again, swinging and missing. Now I’m 0-2.

Third time, here it comes, same height, same everything. Three fastballs chest high, three swings, three misses. Go sit down. I’m walking back thinking, that’s embarrassing. You know the thing’s coming, you have zero discipline, you got too pumped up—you deserved that. It’s complete self-hate.

Great stuff from a guy who lived it.

– Jason

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Atlanta Braves, Bobby Cox, No-Hitter Etiquette, Scott Olson, Washington Nationals

Olson’s Near-No-Hitter Invaded by Marauding Mound Tampers

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Most baseball fans are aware the rule mandating that players avoid discussion of a no-hitter being thrown by a teammate.

Few, however, realize the depth of superstition in this arena. Guys in the dugout maintain whatever routine they’re in, as changing a pattern could constitute a jinx.

Bobby Cox

In the middle of Sandy Koufax’s no-hitter in 1963, for example, Dodgers rookie Dick Calmus jumped off the bench to applaud; coach Leo Durocher told him to sit down and zip it.

Bob Brenly found himself tapping the knob of Matt Kata’s bat during the middle innings of Randy Johnson’s perfect game in 2004, then couldn’t stop himself, despite the increasing pain, into the late innings. “I did not move off of that bat rack,” he said. “I knocked on that bat on every pitch. My knuckles were raw by the end of the game, but I just felt that you can’t change anything.”

During Nolan Ryan’s seventh no-hitter, umpire Tim Tschida spent the early innings bypassing Rangers catcher Mike Stanley when it came to getting new baseballs to the mound, opting instead to throw them himself. In the ninth inning, however, Tschida let Stanley do the work. When he handed a baseball to the catcher, however, Stanley, handed it right back, refusing to tackle that kind of responsibility.

None of this even considers the concepts of warming up a reliever or making a defensive substitution, things that can conceivably project anti-karma in exactly the same way.

All of which is a lead-in to yesterday’s near-no hitter from Washington’s Scott Olsen, which he carried into the eighth inning against the Braves.

It’s fairly expected for the opposition to try to get inside a pitcher’s head in any way possible. During a no-hitter, this means making him aware that he’s headed toward potential immortality—a fact they hope will spook him. This type of bench jockeying is hardly unusual.

Ex-Cardinals pitcher Joe Magrane, for example, had a habit of yelling things like, “Hey, let’s break up his no-hitter,” loud enough to reach the mound. (At least one of his teammates, Rex Hudler, didn’t appreciate it. “He didn’t have to go up there and face the guy,” said Hudler. “There were times when I’d tell him to shut up. Don’t let your mouth write checks my body can’t cash.”)

As prevalent as the strategy is, does it work? “No,” said Mets manager Jerry Manuel. “Heck no. You’d think it would, but it doesn’t.”

The Braves, however, took things a step further against Olsen, requesting in the bottom of the seventh inning that the National Park grounds crew tamp down the mound. Talk about changing things.

Two batters and eight pitches into the top of the eighth, Olsen gave up a hit. Two batters after that, he was out of the game.

(It must also be noted that prior to that inning, Washington manager Jim Riggleman did some changing of his own, sliding Adam Kennedy from second base to first to replace the ham-handed Adam Dunn, and inserted Alberto Gonzalez at second.)

Perhaps an unusual divot had formed that presented some sort of danger to Braves pitcher Tim Hudson, which required some mound maintenance. That would provide sufficient explanation.

The question for baseball fans is, when was the last time you actually saw something like that happen during the course of a game? In the vast majority of cases, the answer would be, never.

Braves manager Bobby Cox is a master strategist, and in the last season of a long and wildly successful tenure. Might he do something like this to avoid the additional pressure that being no-hit might contribute to an already struggling team?

Just maybe.

– Jason

2
Bunt appropriately, Cheating, Chris Perez, Cleveland Indians, Howie Kendrick, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, Torii Hunter

Kendrick Bunts, Cleveland Complains, Angels Win

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Last week, Anaheim’s Howie Kendrick stirred up some emotions with a two-out, ninth inning bunt that scored Torii Hunter from third base with the game’s winning run.

It came on the first pitch thrown by Indians reliever Chris Perez, who after the game was vocal in his displeasure.

“It was a bad baseball play that happened to work out,” he told MLB.com. “I don’t want to say it was bush league, but you never see that. Ninety-nine percent of hitters in that situation would rather win the game with a hit, not a bunt. It was a stupid play that just happened to work.”

Au contraire, Mr. Perez—it was a smart play that happened to work.

Let’s examine some corollaries between Kendrick’s bunt and another famous bunt that caught some heat: Ben Davis’ bunt that broke up Curt Schilling’s perfect game in 2001.

  • Speed was not remotely part of Davis’ game. “For a backup catcher (like Davis) who had never bunted for a base hit before in his life to do it, I thought that was unnecessary to begin with, and disrespectful, to top it off,” said then-Diamondbacks manager Bob Brenly.
  • Kendrick, while not necessarily a burner, is known to steal a base should the situation present itself. Bunting for hits is within his accepted repertoire.

Verdict: Kendrick

  • Davis got lucky with a bad bunt that landed in a good place. “He bunted as bad a ball as you can bunt, to the most perfect spot in the infield to bunt it. . . .” said Schilling. “I never said it was a horses–t play. I thought it was a horses–t bunt.”
  • Kendrick’s effort was a thing of beauty, placed in an ideal spot on the right side of the diamond. The Indians had no chance.

Verdict: Kendrick

  • Davis’ bunt spoiled a significant personal achievement.
  • For Kendrick, there was nothing on the line save for the most important thing on any baseball diamond: a victory.

Verdict: Kendrick

Ultimately—and no matter how you feel about either incident—both Davis and Kendrick must be exonerated for the simple fact that their at-bats mattered.

Davis came to the plate in a 2-0 game; as a baserunner, he brought the tying run to the plate for the first time since Arizona scored its second run. Kendrick’s case was even more stark: he literally won the game with his effort.

And make no mistake, Chris Perez—that was an effort. Sure, it was brains over brawn, but it also took cunning and execution.

Had it been an 8-0 type blowout, Perez would have a legitimate complaint. As it is, if there’s any certainty to be had here, it’s that Perez wouldn’t have said a thing had one of his teammates won the game in exactly the same fashion.

* * *

Earlier in the inning, Hunter exposed another rule: If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying. His was perhaps the lowest-grade cheating in the unwritten rulebook, along the lines of an outfielder popping up, glove raised, acting like he caught a ball that he clearly knows he trapped.

In Hunter’s case, he hit a ball into the right-field corner, where Shin-Soo Choo gathered it and threw it to second in time to catch the sliding Hunter. Hunter knew he was out. From his vantage point, even Choo probably knew that he got his man.

Second-base umpire Paul Schrieber, however, called Hunter safe, and he eventually scored the winning run.

When asked after the game whether or not he should have been called out, Hunter rolled his eyes and said, “I’m not going to answer that. He said I was safe, so I was safe.”

He did precisely what he should have done. In big league baseball, that falls within the definition of honesty.

– Jason

1
Articles

ESPN to Pitchers: ‘How Would You Respond?’

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The unwritten rules seem to be taking a place of prominence in the American media landscape right now. If, as I suspect, the reason many old-timers talked to us for The Baseball Codes was that they didn’t want to see the Code fray any further than it already has in the modern game, they must be delighted with this turn of events.

ESPN’s Jerry Crasnick recently discussed a handful of rules with three prominent pitchers from the 1970s: Jim Palmer, Bert Blyleven and Goose Gossage.

As it happens, we interviewed all three for the book, and their opinions haven’t changed a bit since we talked to them. (Blyleven, in fact, was one of the dozen or so players who actively discussed with us the rule about not running across a pitcher’s mound. He was also the most fiery about it.)

There are some terrific stories in the article, but seeing them in such a truncated format makes it strikingly clear that they must all eventually come around to one thing: retaliation. No matter what the offense—showing up a player, stealing signs, peeking at pitches, etc.—the stories that illustrate them are inevitably punctuated with baseballs aimed at ribcages.

The same held true for the vast majority of the stories we elicited from players. It’s why the retaliation chapter is the book’s biggest.

That’s the beauty of the Code (especially when the interview subject is a pitcher): the concept of making sure violations don’t happen again on your watch.

Update: Ex-Houston Astros All-Star and current baseball blogger Morgan Ensberg has posted an interview with himself in which he addresses many of these issues from a hitter’s standpoint.

– Jason

4
Alex Rodriguez, Dallas Braden, Don't Cross the Pitcher's Mound

Braden Still Talking

Posted on by Jason Turbow

A’s pitcher Dallas Braden sat down with our old pal, Comcast SportsNet Bay Area’s Mychael Urban, to answer just a few more questions about the A-Rod incident.

As usual, he pulls no punches. The chance to see and hear his response (rather than reading a transcript of it) offers better insight into what he’s actually thinking.

For some reason, WordPress doesn’t like Comcast’s embed code. Which means you’ll have to go to their site to see the clip.

– Jason

2
Don't Quit on Your Teammates, Milton Bradley, Seattle Mariners

Bradley on the Outs in Seattle. A Reparable Rift? Unlikely

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Milton Bradley’s at it again. According to Mike Salk of ESPN’s radio affiliate in Seattle, the volatile slugger started into plate umpire Kerwin Danley in the sixth inning, after striking out looking with the bases loaded.

Apparently, things got so heated that Mariners manager Don Wakamatsu interceded, telling Bradley to back off. Shortly thereafter, a source told Salk, Bradley approached his manager, said, “I’m packing my stuff. I’m out of here,” and left the dugout, the ballpark—and maybe the Mariners organization.

From Geoff Baker‘s Seattle Times blog:

Wakamatsu had Ryan Langerhans warm up immediately and followed Bradley into a tunnel between the dugout and clubhouse to talk him off the ledge and tell him not to quit on his teammates. At some point, Bradley was about to return to the dugout, but once he saw Langerhans playing left field in his place, left again and returned to his locker.

From there, he quickly packed and exited the stadium with the game still in progress.

General manager Jack Zduriencik said all the right things afterward, about how Bradley was still an important part of the team, and how Seattle needs him to be successful.

The reality, however, is somewhat different. Bradley unmistakably turned his back on his teammates, hanging them out to dry in a game they trailed only 3-1. This is akin to not leaving the dugout during a fight—maybe worse.

It’s why Zach Duke addressed his team through the media just last week after failing to retaliate for multiple Code violations by the Dodgers, offering a public apology when a private one might have sufficed. He knew the possibility of losing the respect of his teammates was real, and he did what he had to do to stanch the bleeding.

Bradley, however, is on his eighth team in 11 seasons. He left one of them–the Cubs–over this very issue just last year, departing Wrigley Field before their season-closing game was over. They couldn’t trade him fast enough. (It might say something that what seems to be the only team willing to take him demanded that Chicago take on Carlos Silva’s bloated contract in return.)

Unlike Duke, Bradley doesn’t have the Seattle clubhouse, because he doesn’t know the Seattle clubhouse. If anything, his teammates are more aware of his most-prime-candidate-for-anger-management-therapy-in-the-league reputation far better than they know the guy himself; they’ve hardly spent two months with each other.

If Bradley wants a job in the major leagues—be it in Seattle or elsewhere—he’s going to need to make reparations, and in a pretty major way. He keeps getting chances because he’s unmistakably talented. Never before, though, has he crossed the line to potential clubhouse pariah quite so convincingly as he might have last night.

Update: In the home clubhouse at Safeco Field today, Bradley took the floor in a closed-door meeting, and talked about the issues he had to work out. (As is the way with closed-door meetings, only the vaguest details have been released.)

Bradley also met with manager Don Wakamatsu and GM Jack Zduriencik, in which, wrote Geoff Baker in the Seattle Times, he asked for their help in dealing with turmoil in his life.

Zduriencik later met with the media, and talked about Bradley dealing with “some very personal and very emotional things in his life right now,” and how the team is going to help Bradley through whatever personal trauma he’s experiencing.

If everyone follows through and this affair has a happy ending, it would be a splendid turn of events. How many other teams have said the same thing about Bradley, however? The guy went so far as to seek counseling for his anger while a member of the Dodgers in 2004.

Perhaps the best thing he has going for him at the moment is the Mariners’ putrid offense. After all of this, it could still be that they need him more than he needs them, which is the bedrock for second chances.

Update II (May 6): The Mariners have placed Bradley on the restricted list while they reevaluate his situation.

– Jason

5
Andrew McCutchen, Jack Taschner, Los Angeles Dodgers, Pittsburgh Pirates, Ramon Ortiz, Retaliation, The Baseball Codes, Zach Duke

Additional Thoughts on the Zach Duke Non-Incident

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The lack of retaliation by Pirates pitcher Zach Duke when it was so clearly mandated has raised some interesting questions. For example, why didn’t Pirates manager John Russell—who by multiple accounts was enraged at Duke’s inaction—simply order his pitcher to get the job done?

Once, this would have been a no-brainer. In the 1940s, Leo Durocher was known to leave hundred-dollar bills in the locker of Whitlow Wyatt as a reward when the pitcher threw at players’ heads. Numerous opponents recall longtime manager Gene Mauch shouting for his pitcher to “spin his helmet.”

Heck, when Casey Stengel managed the Boston Braves, he was once so upset when one of his rookie pitchers—appearing in just his second big-league game—failed to retaliate according to expectations that he sent the guy back to the minors. It was four more years before Warren Spahn returned to the big leagues (although the U.S. Army also had something to do with his delay), a turn of events that Stengel later called the biggest blunder he ever made as a manager.

Modern managers, though, are different. Now that players constitute multi-million-dollar investments, nobody wants to take responsibility should a fastball go awry.

Pitchers are occasionally encouraged in vague terms (“Do what you have to do”), but rare is the order to actually drill somebody.

(One noteworthy exception to this trend is Ozzie Guillen, who ordered his own rookie pitcher, Sean Tracey, to hit a batter in 2006. When, like Spahn, Tracey failed to carry out his manager’s wishes, he was, like Spahn, banished to the minors.)

Instead, pitchers are expected to understand this responsibility. Should a young player fail to appropriately read a situation, a good talking-to will usually do the trick. For a veteran like Duke, however, significantly more is expected.

Another question involves the window of opportunity. Duke had the chance to directly retaliate against the pitcher who twice threw at McCutchen—Ramon Ortiz came to the plate for the first time this season in the sixth inning—and didn’t do anything about it.

The following inning, when Pirates reliever Jack Taschner sent a ball behind the head of the first hitter he faced, Andre Ethier, it was a clear message sent.

So is the case closed, especially if Ortiz manages to hit against the Pirates again? The vagaries of scheduling make this a mostly moot point; as of May 2, the Pirates and Dodgers had faced each other six times, and will not meet again until 2011. (We’re putting our money on them failing to square off in October.)

Not that it would have mattered. Duke had his chance and completely whiffed; Taschner got a measure of revenge with his message pitch, even though he didn’t actually hit anybody.

If the Pirates respond next season, it will open old wounds in a hurry. As in the wrong as the Dodgers were in this instance, Pittsburgh would be just as guilty if they choose to pursue this into 2011—and the smart money’s on them staying far, far away from even the appearance of vengeance.

That is, unless Zach Duke decides he has something to prove.

– Jason

4