Tag: San Francisco Giants

Buster Posey, Running Into the Catcher, Scott Cousins

Posey Leveled. Is a Clean Hit a Retaliation-Worthy Offense?

Posted on by Jason Turbow
You be the judge: Did Scott Cousins go out of his way to hit Buster Posey?

By now, you’ve either seen the replay or willfully avoided it. In the 12th inning of Wednesday’s game between the Giants and the Marlins, Scott Cousins came barreling home with what he hoped would be the winning run. Giants right fielder Nate Schierholtz fired a strike that would have nailed the runner had catcher Buster Posey held onto the ball.

Posey did not hold onto the ball. Cousins, unaware of this, leveled him.

It was a split-second play, Cousins reacting as he was taught—to initiate contact with the catcher in hopes of dislodging the baseball. His approach was standard, and his hit was clean.

As with many plays involving baseball’s codes, however, there is a caveat: Posey was positioned perfectly, toward the pitcher’s mound, just up the line. He did not block the plate before he had the ball (which would have given Cousins unlimited leeway to do whatever he had to). The runner was offered a clear path to the dish—a tactic enacted specifically to avoid unnecessary contact. (Watch the play here.)

The result: a broken leg and torn ankle ligaments for the Giants’ most indispensable player, who will be out of action indefinitely.

The question in the wake of this devastating news is whether Cousins’ slide was appropriate. As is true with many sections of the Code, there are multiple ways to answer.

Yes, Cousins’ takeout was appropriate. It’s the hard-nosed approach ballplayers should take when trying to score on a contested play. It is, argue many within the game, as close as a play comes to embodying the competitive spirit of baseball. A collision at the plate is, without question, the most exciting moment in a given game.

Then again, if Cousins could have scored without contact, why not do it that way? (Take, for example, last year’s collisions involving Angels catcher Bobby Wilson and Indians catcher Carlos Santana, each of whom was run over by vicious hits; because they both were blocking the plate without the ball, repercussions for the baserunners were minimal.)

“Is it a cheap shot?” asked Giants manager Bruce Bochy on Giants’ flagship KNBR (as reported by the San Jose Mercury News). “It depends who you’re talking to. They happen all the time, home-plate collisions. I think he thought the ball was going to beat him. He decided to go at Buster and try to knock it loose, that’s what it looked like to me. But there was a lane for him.” (Listen to it here.)

Bochy knows this drill well. He was a big league catcher for nine seasons, a manager for 17. He has been blown up by baserunners, and understands that it’s part of a catcher’s job description. But it’s also part of his current job description to protect his guys. As such, he called for baseball to examine the rule regarding home-plate collisions.

He’s not the only one.

“You leave players way too vulnerable,” Posey’s agent, Jeff Berry, told ESPN’s Buster Olney. “I can tell you Major League Baseball is less than it was before [Posey’s injury]. It’s stupid. I don’t know if this ends up leading to a rule change, but it should. The guy [at the plate] is too exposed.

“If you go helmet to helmet in the NFL, it’s a $100,000 fine, but in baseball, you have a situation in which runners are [slamming into] fielders. It’s brutal. It’s borderline shocking. It just stinks for baseball.”

Berry took his complaints to Joe Torre, who heads up on-field operations for MLB.

Whatever Torre decides, as the rules currently stand, actions like Cousins’ are entirely permissible. After watching replays, several members of the Giants spoke out in defense of the Florida outfielder. “We think it was (a clean hit),” said Freddy Sanchez in the Mercury News. Added Schierholtz, “It’s part of the game. There’s really no right way to take a hit.”

Schierholtz, of course, was once on the other side of the equation, when he plowed into China’s catcher during the 2008 Olympics.

Nobody was more clear on the propriety of the event than Cousins himself, who was reportedly in tears upon hearing that Posey might be lost for the remainder of the season.

“It’s a baseball play,” he said in the Palm Beach Post. “It’s part of the risk of being a catcher. We’re trying to win games also. I’m not going to concede the out by any means, not in that situation, not ever. I’m on this team to help do the little things to help this team win a game and if that means going hard and forcing the issue on the bases because I have speed, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

On a micro level, the question now is: Should the Giants retaliate?

The answer is as complex as the issues leading up to the question. The play was clean. From a long view it was also unnecessary, but in the moment it’s tough to begrudge Cousins the decision he made.

Cousins did not play in Wednesday’s series finale, and a 1-0 score prevented any batters from being intentionally hit.

Cousins said he called Posey twice, and plans to send him a written apology. It might not be enough. If the Giants do seek revenge, it will be typical fare: Sometime during the teams’ next meeting, Aug. 12-14 in Florida, Cousins will be drilled in the ribs, thigh or backside. It will be small payback for the loss of Posey, who will almost certainly not have returned by that point, but it will have satisfied the Code’s requirement. When a player of Posey’s stature gets injured on a questionable play, payback is frequently part of the response.

Perhaps the definitive comment came from Giants broadcaster Mike Krukow, via the San Francisco Chronicle:

I hate what happened last night, but it was a clean play. The law of the land. It was a hard, aggressive play, and hell, it won the game (7-6) for them. What, you change the rules so no contact is allowed? No way to do that.

Tell you what, though. When I pitch against that guy (Cousins), I drill him. Oh, yeah, I’m smokin’ him. That’s legal, too, last time I checked.

Then again, should the Giants opt to let it slide, it will likely fail to make waves. This may be one of those instances in which the victim’s reaction dictates his teammates’ response: If Posey is angry, fastballs will undoubtedly fly in August. If, as a catcher, he appreciates Cousins’ clean intentions, that outcome is far less certain.

– Jason

15
Chase Utley, Everybody Joins a Fight, Jeremy Affeldt, Jonathan Sanchez, Unwritten-Rules

Sanchez Steamed at Utley’s Toss; Affeldt Stays Put During Fight

Posted on by Jason Turbow

There was finally some Code-based action in the post-season Saturday, in San Francisco’s Game 6 clincher over the Phillies. It’s about time; these playoffs had been entirely too sedate.

It started when Giants lefty Jonathan Sanchez drilled Chase Utley in the shoulder blade. It was clearly unintentional—there was already a man on first and nobody out in a 2-2 game—but that wasn’t the issue.

The ball bounced off Utley and up the line toward first base. The hitter, moving in that direction, caught in on a hop and tossed it back to the mound.

This did not sit well with Sanchez. He yelled, “That’s bullshit,” at the startled runner, to which Utley quizzically replied, “What’s bullshit?”

Within moments, both benches had emptied. (Watch it here.)

At issue for Sanchez:  disrespect from Utley.

“You don’t throw the ball back to the pitcher,” he said in an ESPN report. “You’re a professional. You don’t do that. And when he did it, he had this smile on his face, this look that said, ‘You’re nothing.’ And I didn’t like that at all. So I told him.”

There is, of course, the fact that Sanchez was struggling and clearly frustrated, and, if not looking for a confrontation, at least prone to embracing one.

Utley might have been telling Sanchez, “You can’t hurt me.” He might have been saying, “Here’s what I think about you and your tactics.” He might not have intended anything at all, and was simply returning the baseball he unexpectedly held to its place of origin. Not only did he not attempt to stare down the pitcher as he tossed the ball, he barely looked in his direction.

We don’t know what he meant, because he isn’t talking. “It’s just part of the game,” he told Jeff Fletcher of FanHouse. “You’ll have to ask (Sanchez).”

No matter the answer, there’s little doubt that Sanchez over-reacted. His was the response of a pitcher clearly on the ropes, with little left to lose. Although it’s improbable, the notion arose that he might be trying to get both himself and Utley tossed from the game, because he wasn’t going to last long, anyway. (Although Sanchez didn’t know it at the time, Bruce Bochy had already started toward the mound to remove the pitcher when the bad blood started to go down.)

Should Utley have reacted as he did? Probably not. Were his actions meritorious of the response they received? Absolutely not. The pitcher, in that situation, should have without question risen above such a level of perceived slight.

Clearly, Sanchez was not on his game, in pretty much any capacity.

* * *

As Sanchez was having his mini-meltdown on the mound, another suspect Code violation took place on the opposite side of the field.

As the benches emptied to surround the would-be combatants, the bullpens followed. The Giants’ pen, a level above Philadelphia’s, put San Francisco’s relievers a few steps behind their counterparts in the race to the field. One of them never made it at all.

Jeremy Affeldt, who had begun warming up moments earlier, made a move to join his teammates. Instead, bullpen coach Mark Gardner grabbed him, and issued an order.

“He said, ‘You stay here. You need to lock it in right now,’ ” Affeldt told the San Francisco Chronicle. ” ‘We’ve got a long game ahead of us, and you need to stay focused.’ ”

So the lefty stayed put, much to the delight of Phillies fans, who derided him for his failure to join the on-field scrum. He entered the game when the field cleared, and threw two scoreless innings—including working out of the two-on, no-out jam he inherited from Sanchez.

This is the only instance on record I’ve encountered of a player able to avoid any negative clubhouse repercussions for failing to join his teammates in an altercation.

It couldn’t have been more appropriate.

– Jason

4
Articles

Playoffs in San Francisco a Busy Time

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Posts  to this site have been fewer in frequency lately. This is partly due to the limited number of games offering fewer chances for the unwritten rules to crop up.

More so, however, is ongoing playoff coverage. As the Giants continue to win, I’ve been busy covering them for a number of news outlets.

I’ve had two articles in the New York Times recently, one—which came out online today, in advance of tomorrow’s Sunday print edition—details what’s happened to Pablo Sandoval this season in terms of his diminished success.

Another, which came out a couple weeks ago, talks about Buster Posey, and the Giants’ decision to keep him in the minor leagues to start the season.

Not quite the Code, but hey, it’s the playoffs.

– Jason

2
Cheating, Humidor, Tim Lincecum

Rocky Mountain Hijinx

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Q: Are the Rockies cheating? Does it matter? Should they stop?

A: Don’t know, not really and, if applicable, yes.

The rumors took root nationally in July, when Giants broadcaster Jon Miller asserted that whispers around the league said the Rockies selectively delivered baseballs to the umpires at Coors Field—balls from the humidor when the opposition was hitting, dry balls when the Rockies were at the plate.

(The team took to storing game balls in a humidor several years back to help them retain moisture. As is evidenced by the early years of baseball in the altitude of Denver, dry baseballs travel a very, very long way when hit.)

The story got new legs over the weekend, when Tim Lincecum, on the mound in the opener of a crucial three-game set between the Giants and the Rockies, got a new ball from plate umpire Laz Diaz, rubbed it up, then tossed it back while uttering a phrase that could clearly be seen on the TV broadcast: “Fucking juiced balls. It’s bullshit.”

If that’s what the Rockies are doing, it’s just baseball.

It’s the same theory behind select home bullpens being much nicer than their counterparts on the visitors’ side, with perfectly sloped mounds as opposed to misshapen inclines that hinder the preparation process.

It’s why a grounds crew will occasionally manicure a field to suit the home team’s strength, be it speed (bake the ground in front of the plate to facilitate high chops), lack of speed (water the basepaths into mush, to slow down the opposition), bunting ability (Ashburn’s Ridge in Philadelphia sloped the baseline slightly inward, to help Richie Ashburn’s offerings stay fair) or preference of the starting pitcher (mounds can be slightly raised or lowered, depending on the stature of the guys using them).

Heck, just a few years back, the story broke about the Twins manipulating the air conditioning at the Metrodome to blow in when opponents batted, and out when Minnesota was up.

If the Rockies are, indeed, cheating, they wouldn’t even be the first team to use a humidor to its benefit—although the 1967 Chicago White Sox did the reverse of what the Rockies are accused of. Because they had good pitching and an awful offense (they scored almost 200 runs fewer the league-leading Boston), the White Sox took to storing game balls in a humidified room, adding as much as a half ounce of water weight to each one. This hindered visiting hitters, but didn’t much affect the White Sox, who couldn’t hit, anyway.

There’s no reason to condemn Colorado for trying, but if they are cheating, there’s plenty of reason to put a stop to it—which is precisely what MLB did, ordering umpires to intervene in the process that delivers balls from the humidor to the field. (Up until now, it was handled entirely by Rockies employees.)

Which pretty much settles the score. Most cheating in baseball is fine, but if you get caught, you have to stop. Based on the 10-9 score the day after Lincecum’s “juiced balls” performance, it would appear that they have.

Which is all anybody could ask. Now play ball.

– Jason

8
Sign stealing

Lincecum Stops Tipping; Loss Streak Ends

Posted on by Jason Turbow

Last week, we discussed the possibility that Tim Lincecum was having his pitches stolen by the Diamondbacks—in particular Stephen Drew, leading from second base.

In the first inning, the Giants’ broadcast crew homed in on Drew giving two indicators that at the very least looked remarkably like he was feeding signs to the guy at the plate, Adam LaRoche. (Watch it here.)

LaRoche capitalized, hitting a three-run homer.

After some prodding from the coaching staff, Lincecum altered his delivery, bringing his hands closer to his body, making it more difficult for a baserunner to peer in at his grip.

It worked well; following the three-run first, the pitcher allowed only one run over his final five frames, none over the last three. Looking at his final numbers for August—0-5 with a 7.82 ERA—it’s hardly a stretch to think that similar tipping might have been a factor for far longer than the game in which it first came to light.

I caught up with Lincecum at AT&T Park last week, and he explained the situation in a bit more detail—while maintaining a steadfast reluctance to accuse the Diamondbacks of anything untoward.

What is it exactly that you did to throw them off the scent?
I moved my hands closer to my body to make it harder for them to see (the grip). The pitching coach, somebody notices it . . . When things like that happen and someone can see it right off the bat, and it’s so blatant like that, you have no choice but to do something about it.

Is stuff like that always on your radar?
Yes and no. Sometimes it will be. Sometimes I’ll be going through grooves where it won’t even enter my mind, and it won’t even be a factor. But there are other times where you have to think about it. I try not to make it too big a factor for me, where it’s taking away from my pitching game, but I want to be aware of it.

Have you ever gone through a stretch where you’ve inadvertently been tipping pitches?
Not that I know of. Not so far.

This seems like less a retaliatory offense than something you simply adjust to and move on.
It’s one of those things where, if you can get a team’s signs, and you have them, why not take advantage? It’s smart on their part. Baseball is a game of adjustments, and I had to make some.

So did those adjustments work? The line from Lincecum’s following start, against Colorado: eight innings, five hits, one walk, nine strikeouts, one earned run and a victory—his first since July.

– Jason

1
Adam LaRoche, Sign stealing, Stephen Drew, Tim Lincecum

Were the D-Backs on to Lincecum? It Sure Looks That Way

Posted on by Jason Turbow

The primary topic in San Francisco these days concerns Tim Lincecum and his disappearing dominance. His velocity’s down, his ERA’s up—way up—and his confidence is so shaken that he changed the mechanics he’s been using since he was a teenager in Washington state.

Another possibility came to light last week: His pockets are being picked.

After Adam LaRoche hit a three-run homer off Lincecum in the first inning of Friday’s game, Giants broadcasters Duane Kuiper and F.P. Santangelo focused in on the guy who had been at second base, Stephen Drew.

The video evidence is difficult to refute. It shows Drew tugging at the brim of his cap before the first pitch of the at-bat (a likely indicator for pitch type or location), then turning his head to the left, toward second base, before the third pitch—on which LaRoche connected. (Watch it here.)

Later, the broadcast showed replays of Drew in the dugout, mimicking Lincecum’s delivery for teammates, ostensibly to show his teammates what the pitcher was giving away.

There are two possibilities here if Drew was, in fact, tipping off LaRoche. He might have been reading catcher Buster Posey, which appears to be the case for the pitch that was hit for the homer. All it takes is a glance at a catcher’s setup to indicate whether the pitch will be inside or outside, which is precisely what Drew did.

The other option is that he was stealing signs directly from Lincecum. In May, I discussed this very topic with former big leaguer Morgan Ensberg. Here’s what he told me:

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.

This was clearly on Lincecum’s mind, as well. Shortly after LaRoche’s homer, he tweaked his delivery to move his pitching hand closer to his body, in an effort to better impede a baserunner’s view of his grip.

Did it work? Following the three-run first, the pitcher allowed only one run over his final five frames, none over the last three—something he hasn’t done since his last win, on July 30.

In Arizona’s post-game clubhouse, denials abounded when players were confronted with questions about the video evidence—some delivered more half-heartedly than others.

Diamondbacks manager Kirk Gibson denied that Drew had done anything untoward, while simultaneously positing that it was a tactic at which his team needs to improve.

“Actually, I don’t think we’ve done a very good job at it . . .” he said in an MLB.com report. “It’s a hard thing to master because there’s a lot to it. And I can tell you last night that wasn’t the case, OK? . . . It doesn’t mean we won’t try tonight, but last night that was not the case.”

Drew, in the Arizona Republic: “Nope. Didn’t do that. Sure didn’t.”

LaRoche, however, hewed closer to the likely truth, when asked if he got any assistance on the pitch he hit. “If I did,” he said, “I wouldn’t repeat that to anybody.”

Of course, players are taught to deny everything, because that’s what public perception mandates. On the field, however, they’re simply playing baseball.

Sign stealing isn’t just tolerated, it’s expected. Even Giants manager Bruce Bochy dismissed the allegations, telling MLB.com that “all teams do that.”

The Giants’ concern after the game had little to do with Drew or LaRoche, and everything to do with making sure that Lincecum conceals his grip and Posey gives away no unnecessary clues to the opposition.

Lincecum makes his first start since then tonight, against the Rockies. We’ll see how well the lesson’s been learned.

– Jason

1