Drive by predictions+ Award picks (with explanations later)

Division Series:

Phillies over Rockies in 3
Cardinals over Dodgers in 5

Red Sox over Angels in 4
Yankees over Twins in 3

LCS:

Yankees over Red Sox in 6
Cardinals over Phillies in 5

World Series:

Yankees over Cardinals in 5

Personal picks for awards (not predictions)

AL MVP: Joe Mauer
NL MVP: Albert Pujols

AL Cy Young: Zack Greinke
NL Cy Young: Tim Lincecum

AL Rookie of the Year: Andrew Bailey
NL Rookie of the Year: Chris Coghlan

so...

Accuse me of homeristic Yankee hate, but here goes:

How the hell is Mark Teixeira the league MVP when he's only the third or fourth best hitter at his own position?

Kevin Youkilis: .306/.421/.554
Miguel Cabrera: .335/.400/.554
Justin Morneau: .298/.386/.555
Mark Teixeira: .283/.381/.557

Don't give me his RBI totals. He plays on a loaded offense, in a bandbox of a new stadium

Speaking of that stadium, here are his home/road splits:

Home: .308/.397/.634. 1.031 OPS. 19 HR, 50 RBI in 257 plate appearances.
Road: .258/.366/.483. .849 OPS. 12 HR, 39 RBi in 279 plate appearances.

To be fair, Miguel Cabrera has an even bigger home/road split, but his overall numbers are better as well. Morneau's split is significant but not as dramatic, and Youkilis has actually been better on the road this season.

All in all, however, Mark Teixeira has been, at best, the third or fourth best offensive first baseman in the league. I don't see how that makes him MVP. Frankly, none of these guys should be; I'm firmly in the Joe Mauer for MVP camp. But that's for another time.

edit: aaaand the Yankees go and drop 20 on the Sox after I write this, with Teixeira going 3 for 5 with a walk and three RBI. So it goes.

Mr. Nice Guy

I've refrained from writing about David Ortiz's positive steroid test from 2003 thus far. I suppose the reason is that I've simply grown numb to new steroid revelations. Sure, the Red Sox titles from 2004 and 2007 are now called into question. Yeah, one would have to be blind to think that any of the World Series champs of the last 10-15 years or so were steroid free. But honestly, after the Patriots spycam debacle, I've grown numb to caterwauling about the legitimacy of Boston titles as well. And honestly, I'd be an idiot and/or a total homer to reject such calls outright; it's doubtful that many champs had two superstars like David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez using PEDs.

Regardless, as the dust settled over the last week, I began to feel a tinge of... what, sorrow? I can't even really tell. Simply put, it sucked to find out that Ortiz used. Manny Ramirez less so, if only because after his suspension for PED use this year, it was safe to assume that he'd been using for some time before.

Honestly, the same could be said for Papi. No, he'd never tested positive, and he'd been rather combative in his comments about steroid users. But he fit the mold we'd seen several times before; he was a decent, slightly above average hitter who posted a career year in 2003, and saw his offensive numbers climb closer to the stratosphere each ensuing season. Then he seemed to hit something of a wall recently, dropping well below his usual hitting dominance while dealing with nagging injuries. I seriously doubt that many Red Sox fans were genuinely surprised by the revelation of Ortiz's positive test.

So why does it nag on me now? I think the answer is simple: Ortiz seemed like a good, loveable guy in perhaps the most visible baseball market in the country. He probably still is, really. Steroid use doesn't preclude one from being a good guy. But it does place an unremovable stain on the guilty party, one that may well hound them forever. Previous high profile players to be outed for their PED use hadn't been nearly as affable or popular as Big Papi. Barry Bonds, Manny Ramirez and Roger Clemens all carried bad reputations for demeanor and attitude well before they had tested positive. Rafael Palmiero and Andy Pettite? Neither carried Papi's clout in the public eye. Big Papi was the face of the Red Sox, even as he struggled this year. And now, like it or not, he's been sullied in the public eye. His herculean effort in the 2004 ALCS? His team-record breaking 2006 season? No longer were they they efforts of a big, loveable lug.

So while I'm not the least bit surprised that Ortiz used, my cynicism about that era in baseball doesn't lessen the sting.

Coming attractions

So... yeah. I haven't updated this blog in few weeks. (Thanks for reminding me, Katy)

Anyway, being bored and lazy this summer, I've decided to compile a pair of lists, in which I try to determine both the best World Series winner of the decade and the worst team of my lifetime. Why the discrepancy in time frames? Well, I chose this decade for World Series winners because the double-aughts have provided a nice variety of teams that should make for some compelling research. Also, it keeps me from having to choose the 1998 Yankees by default.

Likewise, every year features some bad teams, but truly, truly awful teams (the 1996 and 2003 Tigers, the 1988 Orioles, and, potentially, the 2009 Nationals) are a wonder to behold. Unlike World Series winners, they don't happen every year. Granted, I haven't been watching baseball my whole life, but going with my lifetime gives me a fairly arbitrary cutoff date that still lets me frame it in some context relevant to me. And really, given that this is my blog and my readership is about 4, that's all that matters.

So, get ready in the upcoming week for some long dissertations on greatness and futility.

Fall of a giant

Everyone who follows sports possesses a handful memories that they particularly cherish. Perhaps they are shared by millions of fellow fans, but you still cling to them like a glorious, vis-a-vis meeting with a hero. I have my own. At the very top of the list is David Ortiz's performance in the 2004 ALCS. Even after almost five years of hindsight, his performance amazes. There were many astonishing performances by Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS, but it was Big Papi who won game 4 and gave us a taste of survival. It was Papi who breathed life back into game 5 after the Yankees rallied to take the lead, and it was Papi again who ended that marathon with a simple two-out, bloop single. And in Game 7, he delivered the first blow, with a first inning shot that gave the Red Sox an early lead they would not relinquish.

Now watch him, a crumbling, sad figure on the field. He cannot seem to catch up to a fastball for the life of him. As of this writing, he's hitting .203. His slugging percentage is a mind-boggling .293, 254 points below his career average. Of course, the potential explanations fly about like sand in the Santa Ana winds (SoCal reference, sorry). Is it psychological? An injury? Has he hit a thirty-something wall? Is it (God forbid) a post PED crash?

Right now, I honestly don't care. Others can speculate until they are content. I, however, continue to rue the sad reality that Big Papi is Big Papi no more, or certainly not how we remember. Other players have rebounded from disastrous seasons to productivity before. Hell, I was pretty sure that Andruw Jones was done after posting a terrifyingly tiny 34 OPS+ last season. This year he has posted a .447 OBP... granted, in just 83 PA, but still, it's miles more than Papi has shown this season.

Regardless, I guess this entire post can be summed up as a sad ramble about my favorite former power hitter. Watching him strike out twice and ground out feebly tonight, my memories of his great feats of the past seem paradoxically more distant and yet visible.

Get well soon, Jerry.

While I started this blog with the intention of avoiding short blurbs, I want to wish Jerry Remy a swift recovery from his lung cancer surgery. He underwent surgery last year and has taken indefinite leave to fully recover.

http://www.boston.com/sports/baseball/redsox/extras/extra_bases/2009/05/remy_taking_ind.html

Lazy+sick+other responsibilities= copout post

I need to finish an article I'm writing for the Torch. I'm battling a cold. I haven't updated in a week. Here's something I wrote after the Sox' game 5 comeback in last year's ALCS that I posted on a whim of Facebook. Hopefully, you haven't read it yet:

It's Saturday and I'm putting off a weekend of homework. Time for some thoughts about baseball, before tonight's big Game 6.

I'm a talkative person. Scratch that. I'm a regular motormouth. I work on it, I swear I do. I'm much more interested in conversation than I am in hearing myself speak. But I am what I am. My mind moves a mile a minute. I often have blamed my awful handwriting on the notion that my mind is moving faster than my limbs. Math has often given me the same problem: I can understand the concepts without issue, but when actually doing the problems I'm prone to skipping too far ahead and missing minute details. Other interests of mine reflect this tendency. I read more poetry and short stories than novels. When I sing, it's all I can do to keep three years of training and technique in mind once I step on stage.

I'm thinking about all this for a simple reason: I'm a crazed baseball fanatic. I've lived and breathed baseball for the better part of the last 13 years. Even after witnessing the Red Sox win two World Series, I still take baseball as seriously as I did from day one. How on earth does a game that is so deliberate have such a grip on me?

Baseball is often dismissed as a boring game. I defy anyone who watched the Red Sox come back to beat the Rays from 7-0 down on Thursday night/Friday morning to say such a thing. Baseball is pastoral, yes, but like a Flannery O'Connor story it can turn brutal, exciting, and frightening in moments. No other game builds drama so effectively. It's the polar opposite of instant gratification. The wait between each pitch, which can seem interminable to some, becomes Michael Myers slowly walking towards you in "Halloween". The walk to load the bases in the ninth in a tie game gives me the same feeling I got at the first sighting of the Misfit's car in "A Good Man is Hard to Find": looming dread, and the feeling that doom is inevitable, even if the story isn't over. The walkoff hit, or the game ending strikeout, are pure exhilaration after unbearable buildup... and I can't even think of a simile. Any literature reference would have to be compared to baseball in that regard. Baseball demands attention and pays great rewards to those who can wait.

Many writers before me have spoken of the poetic nature of the game, almost in Wordsworthian terms. Please. I've never been a sepia-toned baseball fan. Memories are great and vital, but I'm more for the moment and the tension. Baseball is poetry, but it's more "Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night" than "Tintern Abbey".

What line better sums up game 5's comeback better than "Though wise men at their end know dark is right/ because their words had forked no lightning they/ do not go gentle into that good night"? And in moments of heartbreak, such as the 2003 ALCS, few poetic lines better describe my feelings than "And you my father, there on the sad height/ curse, bless me now with your fierce tears I pray." My dad had been through the devastation of '86, my grandfather had '46, and now I had had my moment.

I got the same feeling watching Pedro Martinez in his prime pitch that I do when I read the ending of "The Dead", or listen to "The Tracks of My Tears". None of these things are related in tone or content. What binds them? Listen to Smokey Robinson launch into his falsetto, or watch a clip of Pedro tossing an inhuman changeup. The way the snow in Joyce's story falls through the universe, covering all the living and the dead, such feelings towards different mediums bind them.

Anyway, I'd long promised never to write a George Will-style dissertation on the glories of baseball as something more than a game. In the end, baseball is just a game. It happens to be one that appeals to me on levels that go beyond a need for distraction.

-note: I'm not speaking ill of Wordsworth. He's easily one of my favorite poets.

What's in a name?

The first true "baseball name" I recall loving was "Ken Caminiti". True, it helped that he was the NL MVP for the Padres the year I became a baseball fan. But damn... that name. Ken Caminiti. The last name "Caminiti" makes any first name sound cool. The alliteration only helps matters. As an awe-struck 8-year old Padre fan (I'll need to explain this later, won't I?), nothing sounded cooler.

The 1996 Padres were a great team for names, come to think of it. Tony Gwynn. Andy Ashby. Wally Joyner. Trevor Hoffman. My favorite apart from Caminiti, of course, was the versatile utility man, Archi Cianfrocco (Archi is pronounced with a "k" sound). Just look at that for a moment. It's a thing of beauty. No need for a nickname with a moniker like that.

I'm not sure what goes into a great baseball name, what separates them from the rest. Baseball names are just not the same as normal great names. The best ones roll off the tongue, bouncing or twisting along the way. They usually demand some slight facial exaggeration to fully appreciate their sound. Either that, or they just sound undenably cool.

Carry on

Yeah... I'm not gonna get around to the rest of the AL predictions. So please be happy with my East Coast, AL bias and I'll soon continue on with non-prediction related posts.

Float on

Beware: another sentimental piece about the Sox' longest (currently) tenured veteran. I missed Tim Wakefield's complete game victory tonight, in which he stopped a 3-game skid by the struggling Sox and flirted with a no-hitter in the process. I feel like I at least owe him an article in return.

Wakey. He and Jason Varitek are the only two players remaining from the 1999 squad that, at age 11, turned me into a rabid Red Sox fan. I knew him that year as the team's ad-hoc closer. To be honest, most of my memories of the '99 year are of Pedro Martinez's astonishing dominance, and of Nomar Garciaparra's continued brilliance at the plate. Wakey didn't really stand out in my adolescent mind. His knuckleball, I suppose, wasn't quirky enough by itself to capture the imagination of an 11-year old.

My appreciation for Wakey has grown immensely over time. Year in, year out, he gives the Sox more or less the same thing: league average ERA and 150-200 innings. The stats he puts up aren't scintillating, but the fact that he still can go out and get the job done as he has for so long, using his one, utterly strange pitch is somewhat remarkable.

My dad has often pondered aloud, "why would someone throw a knuckleball?" He asks, not out of doubt in its effectiveness, but out of genuine curiosity. Why would someone throw so strange a pitch, one that can be completely unpredictable and requires a much different set of skills than normal pitching? I digress.

It's not just Wakefield's maddening ability to consistently be pretty good that endears him to me and, I think, so many other Sox fans. Consider this quote from the AP recap of yesterday's game:

"When Tim Wakefield stopped by Terry Francona's office Wednesday morning, he already realized the Boston Red Sox were staggering. They had lost six of seven while struggling to hit, and their bullpen was gassed after pitching 11 innings Tuesday night.

'I understand the circumstances of today,' Wakefield recalled telling his manager. 'No matter what, don't take me out.'"

I try not to sentimentality get the best of me, but seriously, how can any Red Sox fan read that and not be somewhat moved.

What if he'd gotten shelled? The quote wouldn't have even made the press; Francona wouldn't have let it be known. That doesn't matter to me. Tim Wakefield took the ball and did his job, as he has done for the Red Sox for 15 seasons now. And yesterday, he went a bit beyond his usual job description, and gave the team a big win, and the bullpen more rest. Will this matter much in October? Maybe, in a butterfly effect sort of way. Most likely, no. That's all the more reason to appreciate Wakey, and the year's of reliable work he's given the team, doing his job. Occasionally he frustrates us, but every now and then, he can still spin some magic.

My name is John, and I'm an insane Red Sox fan. Hi John.

I'm a different John, but my love of baseball is the same as the other John's. Allow me to introduce myself.

Please note the timestamp on this writing. I just stayed up until 2:35 AM Eastern to watch my beloved Red Sox lose in 12 innings out in Oakland. After four hours of buildup, it ended on a lame baltimore chop that scored the winning run. Silly me, I always thought you could win a game in which you get 10 consecutive innings of scoreless relief pitching. Instead, I got a flashback to Game 1 of the 2003 ALDS , which ended in almost the exact same way with almost the exact same score at almost the exact same time in the exact same place. Maybe Byung-Hyun Kim will flip me off in a couple of days to complete the experience.

I'm tired. My eyes are bloodshot. I'm going to be dragging myself around for the next two or three days because of this. There is absolutely nothing gratifying about this game, or how it turned out. But dammit, I'm a Red Sox fan. I don't buy membership cards to prove this; I stay up until all hours of the night watching games like this.

Now, I could go to bed right now and ask myself a few questions. They may include: why do you do this to yourself? Even if they won, would it really be worth the lost sleep? Do you realize how foolish it is to see these games to the finish just to claim some superficial fan superiority? You do realize that nobody cares, right?

I will not do any of that, however. Instead, I'll distract myself with a happier memory: that one time where neglecting my well being and the next day of my life paid off. The day was June 5, 2001. And the Sox just couldn't finish off the Tigers. I watched inning after inning after inning. This is back when the American League had a curfew; the game would've been suspended after the 18th inning. I'll always remember this game for three reasons:

1) Some kid in the roof boxes got whacked with a foul ball in extra innings, when it was well after midnight. The kid was maybe eight years old. Since I was the only person watching, Sean McDonough and Jerry Remy took the liberty of mocking this poor, injured child and his father for the rest of the inning. The Fox 25 cameras showed the kid between every pitch, with McDonough sobbing things like "I stayed all this time up past my bedtime, and this is what I get. My dad couldn't protect me." It was offensive, alarming, and hilarious all at once. When they were done having their fun, they sent an intern out to give the kid a baseball, since the one that hit him fell into the lower decks.

2) Then-rookie phenom Shea Hillenbrand sent me to sleep happy, whacking a walk-off solo shot into the Green Monster screen just minutes before the curfew would've kicked in. Red Sox 4, Tigers 3. I couldn't hoop and holler, as it would've awoken the sane members of the Cabral family. But man, was that awesome. After years of sitting through long games only to be let down, I finally got the payoff I wanted.

3) The next day, I fell asleep in Mrs. Gyra's class. For those of you who don't know her and/or me, you should know that Mrs. Gyra, my sophomore English teacher, is the best human being I've ever known. There is nobody on the planet I respect more. And yet, Rolando Arrojo and Rich Garces forced me to fall asleep in her class.

I'll always remember the confrontation. She came up to me and woke me up with a legitimate look of concern on her face. Are you feeling OK? Is there something wrong? Yes, Mrs. Gyra. I'm fine. It's just that the Red Sox went 18 innings last night and I had to stay up and watch the whole thing. I'm really sorry.

She almost understood.

I could've tried to establish baseball writing credibility in other ways. I could've told you that I broadcast Cape Cod Baseball League games, that I've interviewed an active MLB player, or that I've been watching Jason Varitek play for at least seven years before you knew who he was. But I think this is a better way of proving it.

It's 3 AM right now, and I'm only awake because of my Red Sox, who lost.

Street cred.

AL East preview

AL EAST PREVIEW

In no particular order, I'll spend the next few days posting predictions for the upcoming season. If I'm lucky, I'll end up posting previews for all 30 teams.

The fact is, I started this blog too late, and may only have time to write predictions for the AL (which I'd choose because I happened to write my AL East predictions first) before it'd be too far into the season and such predictions would seem silly. Rocky start to things, I know. Anyway, here's my preview for the AL East in '09:

Boston Red Sox

’08 in a nutshell:

On the surface, not much changed from the year before. They won 95 games, just one fewer than in their championship season. Injuries, however, played a big role during the campaign. David Ortiz struggled through the year with an injured wrist. JD Drew played superbly through mid-August, then went down with a bad back.

Despite the injuries, they got a bizarrely effective season from Daisuke Matsuzaka (18 wins, 2.90 ERA but only 167 2/3 innings pitched because of control trouble)and a breakout season from Jon Lester to help counter Josh Beckett’s inconsistent year. Offensively, Kevin Youkilis and Dustin Pedroia booth delivered tremendous seasons to help carry the team to 845 runs, 2^nd best in the AL. In the end, however, their run was ended by a tremendously talented Rays team.

Outlook for this season:

I hate to sound like I’m copping out, but there are a lot of questions remaining to be answered with this team. Will Ortiz resemble his usual dominant self? Will Beckett return to form? Was there any fluke involved in Youkilis’ and Pedroia’s ’08 seasons? Can Daisuke continue to be so wild and keep on preventing runs?

One thing should be for certain: the bullpen is radically improved and a hell of a lot deeper. The additions of Takashi Saito and Ramon Ramirez will give the Sox a lot more late inning flexibility and not force the load upon Hideki Okajima.

And hey, if Ortiz comes back full force and Pedroia and Youkilis can repeat their ’08 campaigns, this team can be a juggernaut. I don’t think it’s all going to align that well. However, I still think this team is potentially the most talented in the AL, and they’ll edge the Rays and Yankees for the AL East title. Prediction: 1st in the AL East. Go ahead and call me a homer.

Tampa Bay Rays:

’08 in a nutshell:

How the hell did this team skyrocket from the AL’s laughingstock to 97 wins and the pennant? Pitching, my friends, pitching. Their offense actually didn’t improve much at all, scoring 774 runs (9^th in the AL) and posted a 99 OPS+, down from 782 (8^th) and 102 OPS+ the year before.

Their pitching, however, experienced a sea change. Their starters logged 40 more total innings in ’08 than in ’07, and posted a cumulative ERA that was 1.25 runs lower. All five Rays main starters posted better than league average ERAs and none pitched fewer than 152 innings. Only Scott Kazmir made fewer than 30 starts, with 27.

In 2007, the Rays bullpen was shockingly, depressingly, hilariously awful. They posted a 6.16 ERA and a 1.74 WHIP (walks+hits per inning pitched)over 497 total innings. Opposing offenses put up a .303/.382/.493 line against them, all worst in the league. They allowed 20 more home runs and 129 more total bases than any other AL bullpen. I could do this for days.

Their reversal in ’08 was staggering. Their ERA dropped to 3.55, third in the AL. Their WHIP dropped to 1.26. Their opponents’ batting line fell to .220/.309/.360.

As a whole, the Rays allowed 273 fewer runs in ’08 than in ’07. That’ll win you a lot of ballgames.

’09 outlook:

In the wake of the Yankee offseason spending spree and the Red Sox’ spackling of their bullpen (with their fingers crossed for better team health), the Rays are getting a tad overlooked. I love their signing of Pat Burrell, and Evan Longoria will likely continue to improve. They still have a fantastic, young starting rotation (bolstered by the addition of David Price to the starting rotation). I expect some regression from their bullpen, particularly from JP Howell (unexpectedly outstanding last year) which will cost them the division, but they’ll be good enough to take second. Prediction: 2^nd in the AL East, Wild Card Winners.

New York Yankees

’08 in a nutshell

The Yanks slogged through last season with a mediocre offense that finished just 7^th in runs after having placed 1^st or 2^nd in the previous four seasons. The most drastic difference on offence came at catcher. After his tremendous ’07 season, Posada got injured and played in only 51 games, just 30 at catcher. In the games he did play, his numbers didn’t compare to the year before (.268, .364, .411 in 195 plate appearances), but they obliterated the pathetic numbers his replacements put up. Check these lines out:

Jose Molina: 297 PA, .216/.253/.313, 51 OPS+

Chad Moeller: 103 PA, .228/.283/.299 69 OPS+

Ivan Rodriguez: 101 PA, .219/.257/.323, 51 OPS+

That’s not gonna cut it.

2009 outlook: Mark Teixeira will be a big boost to the lineup, and he’ll have to hold fort until A-Rod returns. However, there remain concerns about that lineup, particularly with Jeter and Johnny Damon atop the lineup, both of whom will be on the wrong side of 35 by season’s end. Same for Hideki Matsui. This offense should improve, but I doubt they’ll be a juggernaut.

Pitching wise, the Yanks should see a marked improvement, especially with Sabathia eating up innings. The Yanks have had huge trouble getting their starters to stay in the game; in the last two seasons, they’ve placed 11^th and 12^th in the AL in starter innings pitched, respectively. He and a healthy Burnett will be a boon to the Yankee pitching staff simply by providing lots and lots of quality innings.

Prediction: The Yanks will be back in the thick of the race this year, but I still think they lack the talent of the Rays and Red Sox. The Yanks will finish third in the AL East again, which could very well mean they’re still the third or fourth best team in baseball. Prediction: 3^rd place.

Toronto Blue Jays:

’08 in a nutshell:

Oh the perils of playing in a tough division. The Jays posted the best team ERA in baseball last season. That alone would probably have netted them a division title in any other division. Hell, they had a better run differential than the 100-win Angels, who played dregs in the AL West. But the Jays play in the AL East, and their lifeless bats (11^th in the AL with 714 runs) cost them dearly. They lost a league-worst 23 games in which they allowed 3 or fewer runs.

Outlook for ‘09:On one hand, that mark seems almost unsustainably bad. On the other, they haven’t improved much at all, without any significant pickups for their lineup. Unless their best current hitters (Vernon Wells, Alexis Rios) pick up their output, or the young Travis Snider breaks out, it’ll be another tough year for this Jays’ offense.

That might not matter quite so much if they still get great pitching and a bit more good luck on their side. Yes, they still have Roy Halladay. But with AJ Burnett gone, Shaun Marcum out for the year after Tommy John surgery, and three unproven starters in David Purcey, Ricky Romero, and Scott Richmond shoring up the rotation (17 combined career starts among them), it could be a rough year in Toronto. Expect them to stumble after three straight winning seasons. Prediction: 4^th in the AL East.

Baltimore Orioles:

’08 in a nutshell:

Aw, yes. Last year, the O’s were the red-headed stepkids of the AL East, placing a 18.5 games out of fourth place. As most awful teams are, the Orioles were undone by awful pitching. They allowed 869 runs, second worst in the AL. Their starters logged just 882 innings, 3^rd worst in all of baseball. Jeremy Guthrie (3.63 ERA in 190 2/3 innings) was their only decent starting pitcher who logged significant innings. Unfortunately, it’s not getting better for them this season.

Outlook for ’09:

Well, Guthrie’s back. Unfortunately, he’s not getting much help. They have a lot of new faces in their rotation, but none of them are particularly scintillating. Adam Eaton hasn’t posted an ERA+ higher than 100 since 2004. Mark Hendrickson has delivered to rock solid ERAs of 5.21 and 5.45 over the last two seasons. Alfredo Simon has 4 Major League starts. Koji Uehara has none.

At least they have the potentially dominant catcher Matt Wieters waiting in the wings.

Prediction: 5^th in the AL East.

And away we go,

Greetings, all. I'll be posting my first previews of the upcoming season soon, so check back for that.

To any friends of mine who are unfamiliar with some of the jargon I'll be using, here's a quick key:

I happen to be a big fan of the modern statistical movement, but for the most part I'll utilize these easy to understand stats-

batting line (eg. .288/.386/.499)= batting avg/on-base%/slugging%. It's a good, quick way to scan what kind of all-around season a player had. I prefer it to the traditional avg./homers/RBIs.

OPS+ and ERA+= these look like one of those complex stats that many aren't fond of, but they're actually very simple. They represent how much better than the league average a hitter's OPS or pitcher's ERA were, with 100 being the league average. So if a pitcher's ERA is 25% better than the league average, his ERA+ is 125.

The last wave by, baseball talk from another crazy Red Sox fan

Hey all. After being told to do so for too long, I've buckled and created a blog where I can write about baseball. This blog will be used less for ranting and quick posts than for longer pieces and articles. I'll soon have my predictions for the upcoming season posted, so stay tuned.