Very Quietly, the Worst Franchise in Baseball History

The Texas Rangers are fighting desperately to get their name added to the list of this season's postseason participants. They remain just a few games back in both the divisional and wild card races. In doing so, they are also trying to erase their name from another much less prestigious list, that one being, "Major league teams that have never won a playoff series." Out of 30 big league franchises, a grand total of two qualify for this infamous distinction: the Washington Nationals (previously the Montreal Expos) and the aforementioned Rangers (previously the Washington Senators from 1961-1971). It's not easy to play baseball for nearly 50 years without once emerging victorious in a playoff series. But the Texas Rangers have done it, and managed to almost fly under the radar in the process. Futility on this level is usually associated with perennial losers like the Detroit Lions and Los Angeles Clippers. But the Rangers can go bummer-to-bummer with any of those squads. They just don't want you to notice.

Until the last couple of years, the Rangers didn't have to feel so bad. They were one of four teams not to win a playoff series. They could find some comfort in knowing that the Expos/Nationals, Colorado Rockies, and Tampa Bay Devil Rays were all living the same nightmare. But then a funny thing happened. The expansion teams stopped acting like expansion teams. The Rockies caught fire down the stretch in 2007 and squeaked their way into the dance with an epic one-game playoff win over the Padres. They followed that up with consecutive sweeps in the NL playoffs and they could officially wipe their name from the list of playoff losers.

(Interesting note about that playoff run. They played three series that postseason, and each one of them resulted in a sweep. They broomed the Phillies and D'Backs, and then were goose-egged by the Red Sox in the World Series. Can anybody name one single moment from that Rocks-Sox series?? That whole postseason was quite possibly the least dramatic in baseball history.)

Then last year, the Rays made their first appearance in October and took out a pair of Sox; first White, then Red, on their way to the Fall Classic. The "Playoff Failures" list had now been cut in half.

The Expos/Nationals combo lack of success is well known. For years, their small-market franchise served as a feeder system for the rest of the major leagues. The one season that they looked to have a lock on a playoff berth and possibly much more, the strike of '94 occurred, washing those dreams away in one fell swoop. Even with their recent switch to D.C., the franchise remains woefully inept and things do not look to be changing anytime soon. For God's sake, they just signed Livan Hernandez for like the 15th time in their short history. But for some reason, when the topic of the truly lame franchises in professional sports gets raised, the Rangers manage to get off Scot-free. Not with the High Socks Legend.

They've been around since 1961 (8 years before the Expos). In those 49 seasons, they have not once eclipsed the 95-win mark, but have managed a whopping six campaigns with 100+ losses. Everybody knows the Rangers usually have pitching issues, but would it be too much to ask for them to have even one Cy Young award winner in their entire history? Apparently it is, because they have not. Heck, you could probably make the argument that the best "Texas Ranger" of all-time was Chuck Norris' "Walker" character from the ill-fated USA police drama. At gunpoint, I guess you could call the late 90's their "Glory Years," but that's a bit of a stretch. They did make the playoffs three times (the only appearances in their history), but ran into the eventual champion Yankees each time. The funny thing is that the boys from Texas actually won that very first playoff game back in 1996; they then proceeded to drop their next nine without breaking a sweat.

Those playoff series would always pan out the same way. The Rangers would trot out some mook like Aaron Sele, Rick Helling, or a 45-year old John Burkett. The Yankees would counter with borderline Hall-of-Famers like David Cone and Andy Pettitte. Juan Gonzalez and Pudge Rodriguez would go a combined 2 for 22, and before you realized the series even started, the teams would be shaking hands and saying their good-byes. Heck, in the '98 series, the Rangers managed a total of one run on thirteen hits for the entire three-game set. Those are totals normally reserved for nine innings of play...not 27.

Which brings us back to the here and now. Ron Washington's Texas Rangers continue to hum along, sitting at 75-58, just a couple games removed from one of those four precious American League playoff spots. The Yankees have one. The Tigers, in all likelihood, have another. The other two will most likely come from the Rangers, Angels, and Red Sox. But really, what good would it do for the Rangers to take one of those spots? They have been playing baseball for close to 50 years, and not once have they made even the slightest of peeps on the game's grandest stage. People can talk all they want about moribund outfits like the LA Clippers and the Detroit Lions. They can talk about their poor ownership, shoddy management, and comedic on-field performance. But at least both of those not-so-storied franchises can still lay claim to a postseason advancement at some point in their history. The Rangers are still waiting for such an experience. Might this be that year?

They have an All-Star 2nd baseman, Ian Kinsler, who has adopted that 'late 90's Rangers' slugging mentality (29 home runs, .254 BA). They have a semi-anonymous powerhouse in right field, Nelson Cruz, who in his first real chance to be an everyday player, is on his way to a 35 HR season. And their longtime Achilles heel, the pitching staff, has finally started to scratch the surface of respectability. Old warhorse Kevin Millwood keeps squeezing quality starts out of that worn right arm. Relative unknown Scott Feldman has been the rotation's biggest surprise. The 6'5 Jewish right hander from Hawaii (you don't see those walking around every day) has racked up a sparkling 14-4 record after winning a total of seven games in his first four big league seasons. So maybe this is finally their time.

This club has been suiting up and playing ball in D.C. and Arlington since 1961. And in that time, they have won one playoff game and zero playoff series. It's time we stop ignoring the elephant in the room and start associating this franchise's brutal history with the other perennial losers in sports that are constantly subjected to jokes and punchlines at their own expense. The Rangers have the opportunity to go out in the next month and grab one of those remaining playoff spots. But if they get there, I wouldn't expect a very long stay. Their first round opponent would be none other than the New York Yankees, menacing postseason nemesis from yesteryear. As for me? I'll be busy clearing out the space right between "Cubs" and "Washington Generals" in our "Longtime Losers Wall of Shame." These guys need a home, and something tells me they won't be finding it in this year's playoffs. You hid for a while, fellas...but the jig is up. You are losers, and it's time the world knows it.


Have a thought or comment about the article?? Drop a line here or reach me at highsockslegend@gmail.com

Yet Unnamed Monday Weekend Sports Re-Kap

The regular season is winding down. Playoff spots are up for grabs. New heroes emerge each night. Teams are fighting tooth and nail for the right to be one of those eight representatives competing for the sport's ultimate prize in October. You guessed it...I'm talkin' about the WNBA. Our lovely ladies of dribble, the Detroit Shock, are trying desperately to secure a berth in the Big Dance so they can have the opportunity to defend their title. After an extremely rocky stretch following the exit of Bill Laimbeer, the Shock are finally playing ball again, winning 4 of their last 5. They are currently just a half-game out of the last playoff spot, and things seem to be shaping up perfectly for one last push toward the finish line.

Tweety Nolan is finally starting to look like the Tweety we all know and love, putting up 34 in the overtime heartbreaker at San Antonio over the weekend. The hard-nosed Kara Braxton is also making an impact, making up for the decreased production from Cheryl Ford, who always seems to be battling some kind of knee or leg ailment. Didn't the Mailman teach his little girl anything about durability and body maintenance? Rick Mahorn, in his first year as the man in charge, seems to be figuring it all out and settling on a solid rotation. In all likelihood, the ladies will not be hoisting a second straight championship trophy this fall, but it sure would be nice to at least have them as part of the mix when the playoffs get started. Otherwise, it will be a cold, hard, winter for the players, the coaches, and the rest of us Shock fanatics in Detroit.

(I wish I knew how much sarcasm there really was in that last paragraph. I'd like to say it was mostly tongue in cheek, but that wouldn't be entirely honest. I'm a WNBA fan, so sue me. No, really...please sue me. I deserve it.)


Don't Believe Everything You Hear

Came across the Oakland A's postgame show for a couple minutes (not proud of it) with the hosts talking about how unbelievable the team's defense had been that day. The analyst was praising the club for their sparkling glove work that afternoon, and how they knew it was going to be critical in a matchup of two great pitchers. They went on to show a number of nice plays. Cliff Pennington at short...Eric Patterson in left...Mark Ellis with a cute little grab in short right. These studio guys were practically giddy watching these highlights, and seemed ridiculously excited that the A's had picked up a rare road win in Anaheim. Only, next thing we know, the guy is saying, "But despite all that, the Oakland A's come up on the short end today by a final score of 9 to 1." It's not often you hear an announcer go on glowingly about a team's performance in a game in which they were basically mercied. What's the A's slogan gonna be for 2010?? "We might lose 100, and we might get outscored by double digits most of those nights, but gosh darn it, we're going to make one or two above average defensive plays every game, and that's pretty much all we're concerned with at the moment." As Jerry Seinfeld used to say...'Good luck with allll that.'


Semi-Biased US Open Prediction

We all know that Roger Federer is the most dominant tennis player of all-time. Rafael Nadal is also a force to be reckoned with, and is said to be looking sharp after some time off recovering from a knee ailment. Andy Muray is always looking to make his first mark on a Grand Slam, and there are a host of others looking to blaze through that treacherous seven-round gauntlet that is the US Open. But the HSL is staying patriotic on this one, and throwing his support behind Andy Roddick.

It's not meant to be a "gutsy" prediction by any means. Roddick is the #5 seed and is coming off a number of finals appearances in the last couple months. He got edged out at Wimbledon by Federer, and was ousted in close matches two straight weeks recently by the up-and-coming Argentine, Juan Martin del Potro. But the US Open always remains Roddick's best chance at regaining his place in the tennis spotlight. It was the site of his single Grand Slam triumph, when he smoked Juan Carlos Ferrero to take the title in 2003. He receives absurdly passionate crowd support every time he hits the court, often playing his matches under the lights in the final performance of the evening, when fans tend to be at their loudest and most vocal. Many would say that the gut-wrenching loss he suffered at Wimbledon is simply too much to overcome in such a short period of time. Some would argue that he is too reliant on his rocket-launcher serve, and that when the chips are stacked highest, he is unable to win key break points necessary to be a Grand Slam champion.

Well, I think it is Roddick's time to reenter that elite level. His draw sets up well, with his first big challenge possibly coming in the quarters against Novak Djokovic, who Roddick bested just a few weeks back. Of course it will be no picnic if he has to take on the Federer Express in the semis, but Wimbledon showed us that on a fast surface, they are near equal. With the boisterous crowd behind him in the Big Apple, it will be Roddick's time to shine once again.


Brother Sam's Un-Shining Moment of the Weekend

Flipping around, ESPN popped up and Sam took quick note of the golf tournament going on and the word "PLAYOFF" at the top of the screen. "Leave it!" he screamed at me. I sat there shell shocked for a moment, as I knew full well that this was an LPGA event. I wondered to myself, "Did Sam make his request with this knowledge at his disposal, showing a willingness to watch 20-30 minutes of women's golf, and if so, does this trump his bizarre Little League comment from last weekend where he openly compared 11-year old tikes to major league Cy Young winners?" I don't know the answer to that, but I do know this. The channel was changed immediately, and he left the room without hesitation. You connect the dots...


Down the Stretch they Come

While the Chicago White Sox continue their pratfall and the Minnesota Twins slowly creep back towards .500, the Tigers just keep finding ways to win games. Sunday afternoon was one of those days. It looked like a loss all afternoon. Justin Verlander was sharp, but not quite his usual dominant self. He was touched up for a pair of long balls in the 4th, even surrendering an oppo-zoppo blast to the previously homerless Akinori Iwamura. But as has been the case often with these Tigers in the 2nd half, they dug down deep and found their hero in the form of Placido Polanco and his high-arcing shot just over the left field fence.

In the grand scheme of things, with the Chisox and Twinkies both struggling mightily and fighting just to remain in the conversation, it wasn't the most important victory of the season. But it was a win that speaks to this team's fighting spirit and their late inning resolve that seems to be increasing with each turn of the calendar. This month alone has seen a Brandon Inge walk-off homer against KC, a pair of comeback wins against a solid Mariners team, and now this dramatic heist job against a Rays squad thirsting for a return trip to the postseason. Nobody can argue that there are holes up and down this roster. The everyday lineup routinely contains one guy with a batting average over .275. Aubrey Huff constantly looks like he just woke up from a nap. The back end of the rotation has been a mess all year long. The middle relief, aside from the suddenly dominant Brandon Lyon, has had its share of issues.

But despite all that, they just keep going out and winning ballgames. The good news is that in a division where 85 W's should be more than enough to grab a coveted playoff berth, the Tigers look to be in supreme position to play October baseball for the second time in four years (after a 19-year hiatus). The bad news is that waiting in the first round are the terrifying New York Yankees, who are playing something like .970 ball since the break. But first things first...there's a 1:05 game today. Somebody needs to go rouse Mr. Huff...


Drop a comment below, or reach the High Socks Legend at highsockslegend@gmail.com

Shootin' the Breeze with the High Socks Legend...

A few quick-hitters from the HSL on this cold, dim, fluorescent Friday morning...

• Is there a better way to spend a half hour than grabbing some couch and watching the Pizza-Rama episode of "Unwrapped" on the Food Network? Yeah, I didn't think so.

• Sure, globes are wonderful educational tools that can teach kids all about geography from a very early age. But the only thing I ever got out of those bad boys was the underrated game where you would spin it around real fast, then slowly apply pressure with your forefinger as it came to a stop, and wherever it landed was the place you would wind up living in when you grew up. It never really got old, either...

• When you go outside in the summer with bare feet, and are walking on the blistering cement, you have approximately 12-14 seconds to find some cool grass before you will start to feel like you might die.

• The Combos website tells you to "Grab your favorite cheesy, crunchy treat, and say good-bye to an unsatisfied hunger." While you're at it, why don't you go ahead and also wave goodbye to your self-respect, your pride, and any sense of personal dignity with which you used to live your life? I've said it once, I'll say it again. If you find yourself eating a bag of Combos in your cubicle at work, you're announcing to the world one of three things:
  
  1) I am depressed. I live in a one-bedroom apartment with my pet hamster and imaginary friend Snax. The only good part of my day is devouring this bag of Cheddar Cheese flavored Combos. Please don't judge me.
  
  2) I am suicidal. If you missed the previous warning signs (research of nearby tall buildings, repeated viewings of the movie Juwanna Mann), then watching me inhale this jumbo sized package of Zesty Salsa Tortilla Combos will tell you all you need to know.
  
  3) I am starving. Literally. I have not eaten solid food in over three weeks, and this small container of Pizzeria Pretzel Combos is all I had left in the pantry. But before I do this, I will recite a famous quote that I think applies here. It is from the shamed Lt. Col. Matthew Markinson in the classic film, A Few Good Men. "I want you to know that I am proud neither of what I have done nor what I am doing."

• Am I the only one that used to always smack the tambourine in the exact wrong place during music class and wind up with a pretty severe pain shooting through the wrist/forearm area? Anybody else? No?? Alright, let's move on.

• Yeah, I'll admit it. I have never seen Scarface. And yeah, I'll admit this, too. The movie Must Love Dogs...seen it maybe a half dozen times. I'll just leave that one right there.

• I wonder how Meat Loaf wound up with that as his name. Maybe he was just having dinner one night, enjoying his entrée a little too much, before standing up and boldly declaring to his family, "I'm tired of just eating meatloaf. I want to be Meat Loaf." Gotta respect a man that loves a food that much to want to be named after it. I've often thought about making a similar move, but using it for the first kid I have. I just hope the other kids don't give him a hard time on the playground for being named "Macaroni."

• You know that song where they go, "It's just another Manic Monday"?? That's the best song of all-time, right?? Yeah, that's what I thought.

• How come everything nowadays has to come with "Resealable Packages"?? Can't some things just remain simple? I never knew opening and closing a bag of Peanut M&M's could be so complicated.

• Growing up, sometimes "double buckling" was a necessary evil. There would be four kids to three seat belts, and two of you were gonna have to bite that bullet. But there was always that one guy way too eager to participate, scrunching up right next to you and strapping in tight for what was most likely the ride of his life. The best part about getting older was not the opportunity to get your own driver's license. It was the knowledge that you were breaking free from the possibility of being placed in "Double-Buckle Prison." The carpool hell where two enter, and more often than not, only one survives...

The High Socks Legend can be reached at highsockslegend@gmail.com

Overmanaging: The Unforgivable Crime of an AL Skipper

In 1973, the American League made the decision to adopt the designated hitter rule. Teams would now be allowed to place nine slugging bats in the order, replacing their weak-hitting pitcher with an aging, beer-bellied banger. The rule change was set in place largely because the AL had become worried about the pitching dominance that was taking the league by storm, and saw the DH as a way to combat this advantage and make games more exciting and fan-friendly. Whether they achieved this goal is debatable, and the pros and cons of the issue are still argued passionately to this day. (For the record, I am one of the leaders of the NO DH camp.) But one thing not up for discussion is the role of the American League manager, and how their potential impact on a game was slashed to pieces the minute that Ron Blomberg stepped in the box that night as the very first designated hitter in the game's history.

What decisions did they have to make now?

What would happen to the classic baseball conundrum when your team is locked in a tight, low-scoring game in the late innings and the starting pitcher is due up with the go-ahead run just 90 feet away? Managers no longer had to worry about that. Just scribble your best nine hitters on to a lineup card, send your hurler out to the hill, and find a cozy seat on the bench for the next three plus hours. Yet, as we saw tonight in New York, they still find a way to butcher the game somehow. I now bring to you a classic case of "Overmanaging, 101."

Overmanaging can be defined very simply. It occurs when a manager (usually in the AL, where thinking is rarely required of them) refuses to let his players simply win the game on their own and decides it is time for him to put his personal stamp on the contest so he can receive some of the credit later. Overmanaging is seen in several forms. Sometimes it's a skipper going to get a cruising starting pitcher with a low pitch count simply because it is time for the "closer" to now enter the game. Other times, a manager chooses a bizarre and completely inappropriate time to start fiddling with baserunners and gimmick plays simply because he desires a little on-air tummy rub from the Tim McCarvers and Joe Morgans of the world. Let us not forget the one game the Tigers dropped to the Yankees in the opening round of the 2006 playoffs.

Yankee ace Chien-Ming Wang was on the bump, and the Bengals started getting to him early. Magglio Ordóñez belted a double to start the 2nd. With Wang now out of the stretch, he issued a walk to Carlos Guillen, putting two on with nobody out. Perfect time for the Tigers to possibly put together a big inning and take command of the series in a hostile environment. Of course, in this scenario, there should not have been much for Jim Leyland to do.

Just let your next three hitters go up, take their best hacks at a now struggling Wang, and hope you can scratch out a couple of very important runs. But Leyland had other plans. Apparently he saw this as the perfect time for a hit-and-run. To this day, I just can't see where he was coming from on this. Ordóñez and Guillen broke on the 1-0 pitch to Pudge Rodriguez, and sure enough, it wasn't a great pitch to hit, and Pudge swung right through it. Jorge Posada fired the ball down to third and nailed Ordóñez by 30 feet.

Now Wang could finally breathe. Without really recording an out, he was generously donated one by Leyland and Co. Whereas he should have been forced to retire three straight hitters to escape this early jam, Leyland had now handed him a "Get Out of Jail Free" card, via his careless and inexplicable decision to put on the hit-and-run (especially with the lead runner being the slow-footed Ordóñez ). Pudge proceeded to strike out, Craig Monroe bounced harmlessly to Jeter, and the potential rally fizzled in the blink of an eye. Wouldn't you know it that the first batter in the next inning, Marcus Thames, the man that should have been at the plate with two on and two out the inning prior, came up and laced a double off Wang, bringing Leyland's overmanaging front and center. The Tigers could have staked Nate Robertson to a critical early lead, but instead, they had a goose egg, and would go on to lose the all-important series opener. Overmanaging at its finest.

Coincidentally, the beef I have tonight also takes place in the Bronx, only this time I will be throwing my stones at the Bombers' field general, Joe Girardi. The Yankees were entertaining the Texas Rangers, and found themselves trailing heading into the bottom of the 9th, 10-5. With longtime kerosene man Jason Grilli trying to finish things off for Texas, it was no surprise that things started to get interesting. Johnny Damon poked a single to open the frame. Mark Teixeira followed up with a walk. Rangers boss Ron Washington was not messing around, and decided to go ahead and bring in his closer, Frank Francisco, though his team still held a comfortable five run advantage. It only got worse from there. Francisco came in wild, and doled out a free pass to Alex Rodriguez, loading the bases with still nobody out in the inning.

In this situation, with the world caving in all around you, the team on defense will do absolutely anything for a single out. Just one out, so we can exhale and begin to see the light at the end of this tunnel. Great rallies generally occur when the first few guys reach base in the inning, as it causes immense panic and nervousness to set in for the other team. In this case, with the Rangers fighting every day to stay near the top of the Wild Card standings, that first out could not come soon enough. Unfortunately for them, Hideki Matsui was in no mood to oblige, and rapped a sharp single to right, scoring a run and moving everybody up a base. 10-6 now, bases still loaded, and again, nobody out. Jorge Posada was next in line. He got jammed badly on a Francisco heater, but hit it so softly and delicately down the third base line that by the time Michael Young charged in and barehanded the ball, all he could do was eat it and watch the 46,511 Yankee fans in attendance dance in their seats at this furious rally that still had not seen a single out recorded. The score was 10-7 now, the bases were still jammed, and Robinson Cano was next. The lefty Cano blooped the next Francisco offering perfectly the opposite way, scoring two runs this time, and bringing the deficit to just one.

Key stat: the Yankees had sent six hitters to the plate thus far in the inning, and every single one had reached base. Whether it be a walk, a clean base hit, or a cheap roller on the infield, everything was going right for the Yanks. The Rangers had to wonder how in the world they would now retire three full hitters before the Yankees scratched out those final couple runs. After all, they'd been on defense for close to 15 minutes, and had nothing to show for it. At that point, Ron Washington and his ballclub would most likely have sacrificed a human life, or paid a large sum of money, to somehow, someway, be awarded that elusive first out.

Enter Joe Girardi, overmanaging extraordinaire.

Girardi directed Nick Swisher, the next Yankee due up, to lay down a sacrifice. In other words, he was saying "I am aware that the Rangers have been unable to retire our last six batters, that we have one of our best rallies of the year going on right now, that the momentum could not possibly be more on our side. All I really need to do is sit right where I am and watch the game like every other fan here, but ahh, screw it, let's just hand them an out."

Girardi decided to tinker with the baseball gods and make himself a hero, but a little thing called karma came up and bit him right on the backside. Swisher, with a whopping seven sacrifices to his credit in close to 3,000 big league plate appearances, feebly aimed his bat at the ball and popped it up right to Young a few feet in foul territory. The Rangers had finally notched the ever-important first out of the inning, and the Yankees had nothing to show for it. So much for making them earn each of those last three outs, especially when they had proven so very difficult to come by in the half dozen batters preceding Swisher.

Now the Rangers could wind up getting right out of Dodge with a simple double play ball. Well, it didn't come in the traditional sense, but that's exactly what happened next. Melky Cabrera sliced a hard liner to short, the runner got caught a few feet off second, and the bang-bang play that ensued at the bag saw the umpire go up with his fist, driving a stake through the heart of this once-promising rally and confirming Joe Girardi as an overmanager in the worst way.

Would the Yankees have come back and tied or won this game had their manager not intervened with his "brilliant" call for a sac bunt? We don't know.

Maybe the Rangers would have wiggled out of it anyway, but the point is, after starting an inning down five runs, and putting your first six runners on base, you must make that opposing team earn every last one of those three outs.

One of my favorite managers of all-time, Earl Weaver, absolutely hated the sacrifice bunt. He believed that the 27 outs you were given at the beginning of a game should be cherished, and not handed out for free, unless a very specific situation called for such charity. Tonight was not one of those nights.

Joe Girardi's team was rolling, the stadium was rocking, and in all likelihood, had he just sat there and minded his own business, the game's outcome would have been very different. He might be listed officially in the Yankees Media Guide simply as the "Manager," but that's not quite right. He's an Over Manager, and tonight, this power trip cost his team a game. Next time, it might cost him his life...


Sure, the end of that story was a tad dramatic, but Overmanaging is a very serious offense, and the HSL is one to hold grudges. Drop a comment below, or feel free to contact me by e-mail at highsockslegend@gmail.com

An All-Baseball Monday Weekend Re-Kap

It is pretty alarming that with Curtis Granderson now in his sixth season as a big leaguer, he is still yet to make any significant strides towards becoming even a remotely productive player against left-handed pitching. You expect the cornerstones of your team to be in the lineup and producing most every day. But with Granderson's continued futility against southpaws, he has essentially forced Jim Leyland to bench him when such a situation arises. Grandy sat out consecutive ballgames on Thursday and Friday even though the opposing lefty starters were second rate bums Ryan Rowland-Smith and Gio Gonzalez. Not exactly Whitey Ford and Sandy Koufax.

This season, Granderson is hitting left-handers at a paltry .178 clip with virtually no extra-base power. Of course, he remains a very integral part of the club's success, and will need to be counted on if they expect to make any major strides in the postseason. But what do you do when you open the playoffs in the new Yankee Stadium, and the opposing hurler is the menacing mountain of a left-hander, C.C. Sabathia? (A very real possibility) In a short series, can you afford to have one of your best players riding the pine? You wouldn't think so. But on the other hand, can you really afford to stick a guy in the lineup when his track record says he is very likely to end the night 0-4 with two or three punchouts? It's an interesting situation, because for most contending teams, the leadoff hitter is an automatic. The manager fills out that spot first, and then works his way down. Would Charlie Manuel ever imagine sitting Jimmy Rollins in a big ballgame? How about Jacoby Ellsbury with the Bosox? It puts Leyland in an almost impossible situation. If he plays Granderson against a top lefty and he takes an O-fer, people wonder why he was in the lineup. But if he dares fill out a card for a big playoff game with Clete Thomas or Ryan Raburn in center, you bet he will get a lot of flak for that, too.

In order to really be mentioned with the elite outfielders in the league, Granderson must improve to at least a level of respectability when a lefty is on the hill. If he doesn't make these necessary strides, he will eventually become a specialized platoon player, only to be used against righties, and have to be pinch-hit for when managers summon lefty specialists to face him in the late innings. This is not to suggest that it is an easy task hanging in there from the left side when every Randy Johnson delivery looks like it is coming right at the small of your back. Plenty of guys have spent years struggling in this same lefty-lefty battle, much like Curtis. But when you look at the other elite leadoff men in the Junior Circuit, it becomes clear that Granderson has quite a ways to go in this department. Ichiro is a career .347 hitter against his lefty brethren, and the aforementioned Ellsbury manages to hit all hurlers at a similarly consistent rate (.299 against RHP, .290 against LHP).

Curtis Granderson is unquestionably one of the most talented players on the team. The Tigers are locked in a tight race for the division, and the combination of speed, power, and defense that he possesses will be needed every single day (and not 3 of every 4 days) in order to end the season atop the standings in the Central. He better figure something out soon. If not, he ought to get very comfortable with the possibility of watching two of five playoff games in the first round from the bench. C.C. looms...


Questionable Managing Move of the Weekend

The Tigers dropped a tough one in Oak-town on Saturday night, losing 3-2 on a Kurt Suzuki walk-off single in the bottom of the 9th. But upon further review, you have to wonder what was going through the mind of manager Jim Leyland as that decisive inning progressed. The A's got a leadoff single from Adam Kennedy. The robotic Athletics manager Bob Geren then called for a sacrifice, putting the winning run on 2nd with one out. The batter about to step in was Suzuki, the third batter in the Oakland lineup, and oddly enough, one of the few guys on the roster with a history of coming through in the clutch (6 walk-off career hits...now 7). Following Suzuki was Scott Hairston, a right handed hitter with marginal speed; in other words, a pretty decent double play candidate. Zach Miner was the Tigers hurler, and despite the bouts of inconsistency he has faced throughout his career, he still has that plus sinker in his arsenal, and would be capable of getting that tailor made ground ball needed to escape the jam.

In a simple baseball situation such as this, with the winning run on 2nd and 1st base open, it would really take an extraordinary set of circumstances not to set up the DP. For instance, let's say you're playing the Cardinals and the #2 hitter is due up...somebody non-threatening like Mark DeRosa or Brendan Ryan. With Albert Pujols waiting on deck, the cost of setting up the double play would be immense. You'd have to now pitch to Pujols with the game on the line. In that situation, you take your chances with the weaker hitter, hope to retire him, then you can put Pujols on and go from there.

But the situation Leyland was faced with had none of these little exceptions. You had Suzuki and Hairston, both middling righthanded hitters, where the only move was to simply follow standard operating procedure and put the man on. Creativity as a manger is not a bad trait to have, but it can be destructive when you try to stray from the percentages if for no other reason than to look like some kind of savant if it all works out.


The "Hey, you do realize you're watching Little Leaguers, right?" Sick Comment of the Weekend

My brother Sam and I decided to turn in for a few batters in one of the zillion Little League World Series games that aired on ESPN over the weekend. Now, watching these games can be alright, if certain rules are followed. First, you can really only watch in little five minute increments. Any more than that and you start to feel sick. Second, you have to go in with the understanding that you're watching 11 and 12-year old kids and that you cannot expect to see big league quality play. However, if you are to break down a certain play or criticize one of the tike's batting stances, it must be done with obvious sarcasm, so as to alert everyone else that you aren't taking the proceedings too seriously.

So we're watching the game, and Sam takes note of the big, bulky righthander currently firing 61 mph BB's for the California squad. Sam turns to me after a pitch, and with one-hundred percent conviction and sincerity, blurts out, "The kid reminds me a lot of Peavy." Maybe you had to be there to feel what I felt, and maybe this kid actually will one day be a Cy Young winner with the Padres, but under the circumstances, and just the way he said it, gave me immediate goosebumps and a pretty good shock to the system. If he would have said it, then burst out laughing, that's one thing. But in this instance, it was stated as some kind of fact, and the eerie silence that followed told me that Sam was now most likely daydreaming about playing catch with this phenom in an open field and then maybe heading in the house for some peach iced tea (where Chris Hanson may or may not be waiting).

Sam was a big time Little Leaguer in his day, and I know he took it seriously, but I still thought he had a solid grasp between what is reality and what is fiction. But his stone cold boy-to-Peavy comparison made me realize that he has somehow managed to combine Mustang, slo-pitch softball, and the major leagues into one giant baseball division in which the skill sets are all identical, and the only difference is the alcohol content of the postgame snack. I might check out an inning or two of another game with him in the coming days, but I'll be sure to keep a safe distance at all times...real safe.


Got a baseball related thought from the past weekend? Drop a line here or contact me by e-mail at highsockslegend@gmail.com