Don Sutton, Don't Call Out Teammates in the Press, Los Angeles Dodgers, Matt Kemp, Ned Colletti, Steve Garvey

Don’t Call Out Teammates in the Press; This Goes for Management, Too

Posted on by Jason Turbow

There is an unwritten rule that prohibits players from calling out teammates in the media for virtually any indiscretion. Issues are to be handled behind closed doors, and an inch of insight gained by the public into clubhouse discord is an inch too much.

The same holds true, apparently, for upper management.

Dodgers general manager Ned Colletti told a Los Angeles radio host that outfielder Matt Kemp’s “base running is below average,” and that his “defense is below average.” (KABC’s Peter Tilden Show can be found here. Colletti’s segment begins at the 16:25 mark; his statement about Kemp is at 18:30.)

“Why is it, because he got a new deal?” asked Colletti, referencing the two year, $10.95 million contract Kemp recently signed. “I can’t tell you. But it’s below-average.”

Kemp ranks fourth in the National League in both home runs and RBIs, but just Tuesday got thrown out on a play that high schoolers are expected to recognize, trying to advance from second to third on a ball hit in front of him, with nobody on first base and fewer than two outs.

That the Dodgers have lost four in a row and are in last place in the NL West doesn’t help.

Kemp refused to comment on Colletti’s sentiments, but his agent, former big leaguer Dave Stewart, does not face similar constraints.

“When it comes time for Matt to arbitrate two years from now, we’re going to look at that situation and do what’s best for Matt,” he said on The Mason and Ireland Show on 710 ESPN Los Angeles. “When it comes time for Matt to be a free agent three years from now, we’re going to look at that situation in the same way as I would with Chad Billingsley, my other client on that ballclub.”

It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened with the Dodgers. In 1978, Don Sutton criticized Steve Garvey in the Washington Post, saying, “All you hear about on our team is Steve Garvey the All-American boy. But Reggie Smith was the real MVP. We all know it . . .  (Smith) has carried us the last two years. He is not a facade. He does not have the Madison Avenue image.”

When Garvey questioned his teammate about the quote, Sutton brought Garvey’s wife, Cyndy, into the conversation, and the two were soon wrestling on the clubhouse floor.

This clearly won’t be the outcome with Kemp and Colletti, where the pertinent unwritten rule is to avoid punching anybody with the power to trade you.

– Jason

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Sales

Going Back to the Well

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Word just came down from the home office that Random House has ordered its fifth printing of The Baseball Codes. Those of you who bought it early have a genuine first-edition on your hands.

Thanks to all for the support. (And thanks to A-Rod and Dallas Braden for turning so much attention to us last week.)

– Jason

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Deking

Deking Propriety

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The deke (short for “decoy”), while infrequently used, is an infield staple. It involves a fielder acting as if he has the ball when it’s somewhere else on the field, in an effort to confuse baserunners into awkward hesitation.

Think Chuck Knoblauch, the Twins second baseman who, during Game 7 of the 1991 World Series, acted as if he was fielding a ball that had actually been driven into an outfield gap. His goal was to confuse Braves runner Lonnie Smith, who had been on first base. It worked; Smith was delayed enough to force him to hold at third on a double, and the Twins won, 1-0, in 10 innings.

There are, however, downsides to this ploy. The Code states unequivocally that infielders are never to put down late tags in instances in which they don’t actually have the ball. I explained it in my recent Q&A with the New York Times:

As an infielder, there’s a rule against throwing down delayed phantom tags (dekes in baseball parlance, short for “decoys”), which can cause runners into late, awkward slides with a significant potential for injury. Padres infielder Derrel Thomas did just that to Gene Clines in 1973, throwing his glove down at the last moment as Clines steamed in from first on a stolen-base attempt. The fact that the pitch had been ball four, giving Clines the right to the bag anyway, made the play patently ridiculous. Clines tore ankle tendons as the result of a hasty slide, and never fully recovered. Clines said that Thomas “did have a reputation for doing some things on the field that weren’t the way you were supposed to play the game.”

When it’s done well, however, it’s a thing of beauty. Edgar Renteria utilized a phenomenal deke in the Giants’ game against the Phillies Tuesday, that was the polar opposite of Thomas’ play on Clines.

Ryan Howard had doubled into the corner, and was taking his time loping into second—not noticing that right fielder Nate Schierholtz was hustling to the ball. Renteria could see all of this from his position, but chose to simply stand near the base, arms at his sides. His body language told Howard that no play was imminent.

When the throw arrived, however, Renteria sprung to get it, and slapped a tag on Howard’s backside. (Watch it here.)

Howard later called it a “mental lapse,” but the success of the play owed just as much to Renteria’s heads-up deke.

– Jason

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Bobby Wilson, Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, Mark Teixeira, New York Yankees, Running Into the Catcher

Bobby Wilson’s War

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Just a day after Alex Rodriguez helped propel the unwritten rules of baseball into the national spotlight, another Yankee, Mark Teixeira, did his part to keep them there. The circumstances and motivations couldn’t have been more different, but a Code discussion is a Code discussion.

On April 23, Teixeira, steaming in from third base, leveled Angels catcher Bobby Wilson with a hit so vicious that it put Wilson into the hospital, with a concussion and injured leg. (Watch the video here.)

There are numerous facets of the play that help paint the catcher as an innocent victim:

  • Wilson was effectively blocking only the inside portion of the plate, meaning that had Teixera attempted to slide wide, the collision might have been avoided.
  • Wilson, with all of 20 big-league games under his belt, was making his first start of the season.
  • Teixeira had been drilled earlier in the inning by Angels starter Ervin Santana, leading to speculation that the play might constitute a measure of payback.
  • Angels outfielder Torii Hunter, whose stature in the game is equal to that of Teixeira, said in the Orange County Register that “if he slides, he’s safe regardless. I guess he was on a mission.”
  • Teixeria emerged unscathed. Wilson hasn’t played since.

Compelling as this all may be, the unwritten rules are rarely swayed by sentiment. The Code says unequivocally that if a catcher doesn’t possess the baseball, he has no business standing between baserunner and plate. And Wilson didn’t possess the baseball.

He had been set up to receive the throw on the first-base side; once it arrived, he spun across the plate to make the tag. This would have been fine had the throw not bounced off his chest protector even as he began to turn. (It wasn’t dissimilar to a wide receiver who’s thinking which way he’s going to break once he makes the catch, then drops the ball.)

The amount of time Teixeira had to settle on his line of baserunning tactics based on Wilson’s body language: sub-eyeblink.

The most famous incident of catcher decimation came in the 1970 All-Star Game, when Pete Rose took out Cleveland’s catcher Ray Fosse with the winning run in the 12th inning. Like Wilson, Fosse was in the baseline without the ball (unlike Wilson, he was actually moving toward Rose to field an errant throw), and got leveled. The hit from Rose separated Fosse’s shoulder, forever robbing him of his power. (It was also enough to knock Rose out of action for the next three games; still, when asked if he had done the appropriate thing, Rose responded, “Nobody told me they changed it to girls’ softball between third and home.”)

The clearest vindication for Teixeria (aside even from Wilson himself, who, despite not being able to remember the play, said later that “I know his intent wasn’t to hurt me. It’s baseball. . . . It’s part of the game”) is the fact that three former iron-tough catchers—Angels manager Mike Scioscia, Yankees manager Joe Girardi and Yankees coach Tony Pena—watched from either dugout, and none of them found fault with the play.

(Scioscia called it “clean.” Said Girardi in the New Jersey Star-Ledger: “Your job as a catcher is to block the plate. You’ve got to keep the runner from scoring. Sometimes you get run over.)

Teixeria went so far as to maintain another unwritten rule after the game, calling over to the Angels clubhouse to check on Wilson’s status.

It didn’t take long even for Hunter to come around; later in the same interview in which he said that Teixeira should have slid, he admitted that “You don’t have a lot of time to think about it—five steps, 10 steps maybe. If you have 10 steps, you’re already planning on running him over no matter what. If he’s on the plate, blocking the plate, I gotta do it. At least try to jar the ball loose.”

Teixeira had far less time than that. Verdict: Teixeira.

– Jason

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Brian Bruney, Chad Curtis, Clubhouse Hierarchy, David Cone, Dickie Noles, Francisco Rodriguez, George Brett, Jim Gray

Youth Speaks . . . But Should It?

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Looking back on last week’s Alex Rodriguez–Dallas Braden incident—specifically the part in which some people are questioning whether a young pitcher like Braden has any business calling out a superstar—inspired a consideration of similar incidents. They’re all unique, but together they serve to comprise a small section of the Code.

Brian Bruney v. Francisco Rodriguez, 2009

Cause: After a Mets error led Rodriguez to his first blown save of the season, Yankees reliever Bruney said, “I’ve never seen anything like that. I have, but in high school. It couldn’t happen to a better guy on the mound, either. He’s got a tired act. . . . I just don’t like watching the guy pitch. I think it’s embarrassing.”

Retort: “I don’t know who he is,” said Rodriguez in a CBS report. “He hasn’t pitched a whole season and has always been on the DL, that’s all I know. If it was somebody big, I might pay attention, but somebody like that, it doesn’t bother me. If that message comes out from somebody big like Mariano [Rivera], somebody who is big and is good at what he does, I’d respect it.”

Result: Bruney tried to apologize to Rodriguez the following day, which only served to antagonize K-Rod further. Instead, Bruney got his message across through the media, saying, “Obviously, I probably shouldn’t have said what I said. I made that mistake and I’m moving on.” He didn’t realize it at the time, but he said that literally; after the season, he was traded to Washington.

Verdict: K-Rod is indeed exuberant after closing out games, and it probably rubs guys the wrong way. Bruney, with one save during his four-year tenure with the Yankees, was not the player to mention it.

Chad Curtis vs. Jim Gray, 1999 World Series

Cause: A day earlier, Gray had relentlessly questioned Pete Rose on the air about the prospects of coming clean about his gambling, with vehemence that many critics felt went too far. When Gray tried to interview New York’s Curtis following his game-winning home run in Game 3, the outfielder responded, “We kind of decided, because of what happened with Pete, we’re not going to talk out here on the field.”

Result: Curtis was not, in fact, speaking for the team; no such decision had ever been reached in a team-wide forum. “He might have talked to a couple of his buddies around his locker and said, ‘Hey, let’s not talk to Jim Gray tonight,’ and that’ certainly his prerogative,” said Yankees pitcher David Cone. “But I thought he was out of line in speaking on behalf of the team. I didn’t approve of his actions at all.”

After the incident the team did meet, where it was established by the roster’s stars—who did not count Curtis among their ranks—that no policy regarding Gray would be forthcoming, and that Curtis’ statement had been unacceptable. “Pete Rose is a big boy and he can take care of himself—we don’t need to be his protector,” said Cone. “We’re here in the World Series and we are the story. Our fans want to hear about the Yankees, they don’t want to hear about Pete Rose.”

Verdict: An established Yankee such as Paul O’Neill, Joe Girardi or Cone could likely have gotten away with it, even without first consulting the rest of the clubhouse. (There might have been internal repercussions had such a thing happened, but they certainly wouldn’t have been made public.) Curtis had one more at-bat as a Yankee, and in the off-season was traded to Texas for spare parts.

Dickie Noles vs. George Brett, 1980 World Series

Cause: Noles, 23, and in just his second big-league season, came on in relief of Phillies starter Larry Christenson, who had been battered by Kansas City, in the first inning of Game 4. With Philadelphia on the ropes, Noles did something to right the ship: He knocked down George Brett. Brett—coming off an MVP season in which he had batted .390—had been thrown at before, but not on a stage like this, and certainly not by somebody with so little name recognition as Dickie Noles.

Result: While the Royals’ pitching staff failed to respond in kind, Kansas City’s potent-to-that-point offense immediately went cold, scoring only four more runs during the Series’ remaining 22 innings. The Phillies won in six.

Verdict: Noles youth in the face of Brett’s star power made the act absolutely audacious, and all the more powerful. That he got away with it was largely thanks to Pete Rose, who raced over from first base to immediately back his pitcher, essentially challenging the Royals bench on his behalf. It’s not often that a greenhorn can get away with flipping one of the game’s greats, but Noles pulled it off.

– Jason

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Don't Cross the Pitcher's Mound

The Crazy Week that Was, Thanks to A-Rod and Braden

Posted on by Jason Turbow

It’s been a few days now, and it’s clear that the A-Rod/Braden incident has brought baseball’s unwritten rules more prominently into the spotlight than at any point in recent memory. It was a perfect storm: a superstar who’s already recognized for his willingness to disrespect opponents; an outspoken pitcher who’s able (and, more importantly, willing) to string together verbal zinger after verbal zinger in response; and an obscure piece of code, which, while a clear part of the unwritten rulebook, has fallen into sufficient disuse for many people within the game to have never heard of it.

Just in case you’re not certain just how much attention the incident garnered, a partial list of coverage can be found here.

Similarly, The Baseball Codes received considerable mention. A number of people took yours truly to task for my opinion that A-Rod was absolutely in the wrong—virtually all of them New Yorkers. (A sampling from the comments for the Q&A I did for the New York Times: “Jason Turbow is a Non-Entity who is trying to make a name for himself by hanging on the coat-tails of Alex albeit in a parasitic way. . . Jason Turbow is a guys with handful of nothings. The guy is a born Loser”; “How the heck is Jason Turbow and who made him gatekeeper of what is legit baseball activity?”; and “This guy’s clear contempt for A-Rod erases any kind of credibility he may have had.”

Oddly, the location-neutral references to myself and The Baseball Codes on USA Today’s Daily Pitch blog and the Huffington Post drew nearly unanimous sentiment against A-Rod.  (The Charlotte Observer hadn’t garnered any response, pro or con, when this posted.)

I’ve been doing a steady stream of radio interviews with stations across the country to discuss the subject (which is nice for both myself and the book), but even more important is the attention being paid to the Code itself. A week ago, only a small percentage of major leaguers even knew the rule barring non-pitchers from crossing the mound; today, each of them have likely discussed that and many others, both with teammates and those outside the clubhouse.

The Seattle Post-Intelligencer came up with a list of unwritten rules, for baseball and several other sports. Sports Illustrated’s Joe Posnanski wrote his own list, amid a longer post on his personal blog during the course of which he admitted to having never heard the rule barring players from crossing the mound.

He has now. And so has everybody else.

– Jason

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