0

Jose Offerman, 1994 Upper Deck

Ah, spring training. Where teams are still working out the kinks. Take for example, this card, in which that ol’ common mishap occurred whereas the baserunner decided not to slide but instead run upright into the shortstop, who—assuming the baserunner would slide—jumped, allowing for the rare crotch-shoulder-oblique-head collision, and who has also, just for the heck of it, collided with the second baseman, too, who is in the vicinity for no real rational reason. That this play occurred during a pop-up to first base and five minutes after a local rooster ran onto the field makes it even more spectacular. Baseball! Innocent hijinks are what the crowd came to see.

But are they so innocent? Hmmm. Seems as though more recent days have produced several intentionally violent incidents for one Jose Offerman:

Let us check Wikipedia:

On August 14, 2007, Offerman was thrown out of a Ducks game against the Bridgeport Bluefish for charging Bluefish pitcher Matt Beach with a bat after he was hit by a pitch.


Let’s chalk that one up to the sheer intensity of the Ducks-Bluefish rivalry. I mean, if you’re the Bluefish, you just can’t let 39-year old Jose Offerman beat you with his bat, and walking him is too passive an approach for such a rivalry, obviously. Unfortunately, if you hit him—as the Bluefish discovered—Jose Offerman will beat you with his bat.

Let’s give the guy a break, though. Getting hit with a baseball hurts, and we all react in different ways. Besides:

The Court also found that Offerman is not likely to offend again in the future.


There. Done. Let’s move on.

On 16 January 2010, Offerman once again engaged in an on-field assault when he struck an umpire while managing a Dominican Republic winter league game.

Licey Tigers front office: It says here that you once charged the mound wielding a baseball bat, causing two players to go to the hospital and effectively ending the career of one of them. Tell me about that.

Offerman: Yeah, that was me. I was mad. The court said I probably won’t do that again, though.

Licey Tigers front office
: We’d like you to be our manager.

Because of this incident, Offerman has been suspended for life from the Dominican Republic Winter League.

Join the club.

Considering this information, it seems more likely that the above card captured an enraged Offerman, jump-tackling an opposing player who had the audacity to be standing on second base, while his teammate desperately tried to stop him.

One would think he would have gotten in trouble for this. Oh well! I doubt he’ll do it again.
Thinking about this again, with Felix Hernandez winning the AL Cy Young today.

I've recently become obsessed with the idea that the greatest non-strike-shortened, single-season achievement in baseball is for a pitcher to win over 20 games and lose two or fewer. It's never been done. Never.

Two pitchers came very close in 2008: Cliff Lee, then of the Cleveland Indians, and Daisuke Matsuzaka of the Boston Red Sox. Lee finished 22-3, and Matsuzaka 18-3. Lee didn't get his third loss until a late-September matchup with the Red Sox, and Dice-K didn't have a realistic shot at 20 wins, as other nuances of his game left him with eight no-decisions for the season (he didn't get loss #3 until September 28, just for the record).

Let's examine Cliff Lee's season for a second. His ERA is telling: in his 22 wins, it was 2.06. In his three losses, it was 6.56. OK, everybody has a bad day now and then. But in his no-decisions, it was 2.57. There was a game when he pitched nine innings of shutout ball, only to get yanked at the end of nine, tied 0-0, with the Indians losing it in the 10th. That's Harvey Haddix territory.

Now let's compare him to Matsuzaka. Dice-K's ERA was as follows: in his 18 wins, it was 1.60. His three losses? An ERA of 14.40. And in his no-decisions... 3.57.

So what does any of this mean? To me, it means that Dice-K got shellacked in his losses, but probably should have won one or two more games, as he was decent in his no-decisions and so was actually a lot better than his already great record. It also means that Cliff Lee was excellent in 28 of his 31 starts, which means he could have hypothetically gone 28-3, eclipsing Ron Guidry's insane 1978 season.

So let's take a look at Ron Guidry's completely unbelievable 1978. Guidry went 25-3, receiving loss #3 smack in the middle of a five-start stint in September where he either threw a complete game or a complete-game shutout. Win 25 came in the one-game play-off with the Red Sox, and I can tell you that as a Red Sox fan, it hurts more to believe that Bucky F. Dent won the game for the Yankees rather than Ron Guidry In The Midst of His Cy-Young-Award-Winning Season.

Guidry's season ERA was a paltry 1.74: his ERA in wins was 1.11; 4.99 in losses; and 3.47 in no-decisions. He made 35 starts, which is four more than Lee, and six more than Dice-K. Two things are interesting to me here: 1) he wasn't lights-out in his no-decisions (unlike Lee); and 2) the probability of a Yankee loss during a Guidry no-decision was probably minuscule, as Hall of Famer Goose Gossage was in the bullpen in 1978, in the midst of his own lights-out season.

Let's address point 2) first. Gossage participated in six of Guidry's seven no-decisions. Goose won three, lost two, and had at least one blown save. I'm not very good with figuring out percentages, but Gossage got three of his ten wins during Guidry no-decisions, which should mean something in terms of scaring the opposition.

Now, back to Guidry's ERA. Why am I so hung up on a pitcher's ERA? Because it's the average run total the pitcher staked his opponent. The 1978 Yankees gave Guidry 4.85 runs in support in his starts. So it makes sense, then, that his high ERA matched his losses: 4.99 ERA to 4.85 run-support. Also that he gave up less in his wins: 1.11 ERA to 4.85 run-support. But his ERA in no-decisions: 3.47. The Yankees were still averaging more than a run more than this (4.85). So based purely on averages, Guidry should have won a few more games.

This same treatment yields Cliff Lee a few more wins as well. The 2008 Cleveland Indians averaged 5.58 runs in support of his starts, while his no-decision ERA was 2.57.

The final thing I can say about Cliff Lee's 2008 campaign is that he accomplished it for a completely mediocre team: the 2008 Indians went 81-81. He didn't have Guidry's luxury of pitching for a team on its way to the World Series, nor was he surrounded with a great rotation like Daisuke Matsuzaka was on the Red Sox (a lot of people thought Dice-K wasn't even the best pitcher on his team that season, that Jon Lester, Josh Beckett, or Jonathan Papelbon was, take your pick).

But this idea of only two losses ... it's the loss-column total that's so hard to master and leaves "only 3 losses" somehow a consolation prize to immortality.

I'm not including the magical 1995 season when Randy Johnson of the Seattle Mariners finished 18-2 and Greg Maddux of the Atlanta Braves finished 19-2 in this simply because it wasn't a full, 162-game season (it was 144 games).

Mark Portugal, 1989 Topps

This baseball game is good. I wish Skip would put me in. I thought we were wearing our turquoise blues today. I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since before. That was a good shave I had the other day. This jacket keeps me warm when I’m watching baseball. I should buy a parrot. I just drooled a little bit. I don’t know where the sun went. The sun is weird. I bet ground balls give the grass owies. Fred told me we’re the Twins because the owner likes that movie. I don’t know if I believe him. You can’t own a baseball team. Fred. Fred. Fred. That name makes no sense. I wonder where music comes from. I hope nobody smells that fart. It wasn’t me though. If I weren’t a pitcher, I’d probably be a tractor. That guy just did something. I should cheer. I can’t move. Baseball is a good name for baseball. Mamma says the truck is broke. Someone’s gonna have to drive her to the flea market. I can’t. I’m here. My butt’s asleep. I wonder what it’s dreaming about. If that guy over there ever said anything to me, I’d say, “None a yer beeswax, fella!” The next time I pitch, I’m not gonna use my chest and see what happens. Last week in a team meeting I thought I was back in school and raised my hand to go make a wee-wee. That was funny. I guess. This would be a good baseball card. Me. Sittin’ here. Thinkin’ bout stuff. Watchin’ stuff. I’m hungry.

Matt Lawton, 1995 Upper Deck "Rookie Class"

Here in America, we take pride in our rookie class. Sure, we razz them a bit, and tease them, and do things like stick them with a $6,300 dinner bill when we go out with the team -- which the American public loves, because here in America, being able to carelessly spend exorbitant amounts of money on steak is the ultimate dream -- but in doing these things we recognize that the children are our future.

Take noted American Matt Lawton, for example, seen here crouching down and preparing to execute a base hit for the hometown ballclub. Note how his shadow appears against the flag, indicating that this is not some clever baseball card gimmick, but that he actually does do his job against the backdrop of our nation’s flag, because he loves his country. Also note how his signature is not unlike those contained on the Declaration of Independence. I hold these truths to be self-evident—that baseball is awesome and I am fast and I going to steal second base. Democracy! Signed, Matti Lar tin. (Latin for “Matthew Lawton.” We have Latin roots, remember.)

Besides baseball and Matthew Lawton, another great American invention is Wikipedia. Not that “length of Wikipedia entry” should be the defining aspect of a person’s relevance -- there are other mediums to determine this, I suppose -- but I do find it appropriate that Lawton’s own Wikipedia page is lengthier and more detailed than that of other, lesser Americans, like for example, George Peabody.

For within the annals of his Wiki page, we discover crucial information about the life and times of Matt Lawton. Information such as:

In that game, Lawton struck out in one at-bat.

And:

On May 20, Lawton returned to Salt Lake City after attending the funeral of his aunt.

And:

On June 14, while the Twins were playing the Houston Astros at the Astrodome, Lawton left 38 tickets for his family, who were from Gulfport, Mississippi.

I’ve heard of leaving 37 tickets, but 38? True American family man. Also:

Amongst fielders, he was second in fielding percentage (.995) as a right fielder.


My brain just fell out of my head. One question though -- what about fielders? Also:

It was noted in spring training in 2001 that Lawton had gained 14 pounds (6.4 kg).


I honestly do not know what I would do without this information. Anyway, you get the point. Matt Lawton was awesome, and did a lot of things in and for America. One of those things was test positive for performance-enhancing drugs, but still. The rookie class is gonna makes mistakes, ya’ know? Unlike most of his peers, he had the courage to admit it and not blame it on tainted meat. He apologized from his bleeding American heart, and I fully expect him to run for political office one day soon, on a platform of clever baseball-themed puns: Matt Lawton will go to bat for America!

If you would like even more information on Matt Lawton, please refer to the 86 sources Wikipedia used in order to draft their biography.

Did you know?
Yes, I settled on George Peabody after an exhaustive search to find an American with a shorter Wiki page than Lawton. It was worth it.
0

Jeff Montgomery, 1996 Topps Laser Series

I think subtlety is what the Topps Laser Series does best.

MLB Notes, July 1, 1996. The Kansas City Royals placed RHP Jeff Montgomery on the 15-day DL after he was struck by a giant comet-baseball that was on also fire and which knocked him unconscious and gave him third-degree burns to his backside. Montgomery, who has not pitched since June 26, originally maintained he had suffered the injuries after entering a burning building in order to save puppies. He came clean after the Kansas City Fire Department revealed no record of a recent fire of that nature, and also after Montgomery’s teammate, Tim Belcher, noticed two giant seam marks on Montgomery’s back while the team showered after a recent loss in Chicago.

Of course, we joke here. It’s just symbolism! In this case, the giant, fiery baseball is symbolic of what Montgomery’s pitches looked like to opposing hitters. You try hitting a giant, flaming baseball! It’s not as easy as you might think. Topps did consider that it would make more sense to have it appear as though Jeff Montgomery was actually throwing the giant baseball, but they ultimately figured that placing the giant baseball in front of Jeff Montgomery would considerably block the cardholder’s view of Montgomery himself. Still, the subtle hint as to how hard and fast Montgomery apparently throws is obviously lost on the less intuitive, and they don’t deserve to enjoy this magnificence anyway. They always need it spelled out for them, ya’ know?

Topps was indeed the first company to realize that lasers were the future. The company used actual lasers to remove the outer edging of this series of cards, which brought baseball cards into the 21st century, a time where everyone has at least one laser, and a time when the straight, symmetrical edges of baseball cards has become obsolete. The graphic design team of the Laser Series also cleverly paid tribute to the last time America had been thrown on its collective ear in a special effects sense, by utilizing the actual fire from the “burning bush” scene in the 1956 classic, “The Ten Commandments.”

Montgomery himself, who Wikipedia notes made a cameo appearance in the film, The Fundamentals of Pitching with Jeff Montgomery, can best be described via the use of “spotlight stats:”



Downtown Kansas City in the mid-90’s wasn’t a great place to be, especially at night. Legend has it that once, a woman was walking back to her apartment when her purse was snatched from behind, the robber knocking her to the ground. Alertly, this woman located a nearby spotlight, turned it to the moon, and shined a “5,” which signified the consecutive seasons that her favorite pitcher had finished in the AL’s top 5 in saves. Then, out of nowhere, a masked man with a mullet and a Kansas City Royals uniform swooped down from above, and bowled over the thief with a giant, comet baseball. Then he pointed his laser gun at the robber and said, “Not today, punk,” and flew back into the darkness.