What this meant going into 2009 was limiting Joba’s usage to around 150 innings pitched. Entering yesterday’s start agains the Chicago White Sox, he was at 130.2 IP. With over a month, and approximately six starts for Joba, left in the regular season, that would mean he’d reach his cap if he simply pitched into the 6th inning every start. Faced with this dilemma, the Yankees’ initial plan was to start Joba less frequently going into October.  After deliberating for a day or so (give or take a handful of hours), they’ve instead chosen to start Joba regularly and limit his innings on a start-by-start basis so that he’ll be able to ease into a bug-free post-season.

Hence, yesterday’s White Sox start, wherein young Joba allows two runs in three innings and finds himself riding the pine after a mere 35 pitches.  If anything, it was by far his most efficient short start of 2009 — before Sunday, Joba started six games where he’s thrown over 80 pitches and left before the game’s been deemed official.  It goes without saying that being young, injury-prone, and averaging 20 pitches per inning is no way to go through life as a major league starting pitcher.  Ironically (and I think, for once, I’m using the damn word properly), it’s that maddening ineffciency that, in addition to giving the “Joba no start; Joba setup Mariano” crowd plenty of axes to grind, it has allowed Joba to avoid hitting his inning cap.

Now, whenever the topic of young starters and inning caps is broached, it doesn’t take long for the Verducci Effect to get mentioned.  As he explains in this 2008 article from Sports Illustrated:

It’s like training for a marathon. You need to build stamina incrementally. The unofficial industry standard is that no young pitcher should throw more than 30 more innings than he did the previous season. It’s a general rule of thumb, and one I’ve been tracking for about a decade. When teams violate the incremental safeguard, it’s amazing how often they pay for it.

[...]

In 2005 and ’06 I found 17 pitchers I defined as at-risk of the YAE. None made it through the next year without an injury or a higher ERA. Ten of them broke down, the most seriously hurt being Francisco Liriano, Gustavo Chacin, Adam Loewen, Scott Mathieson and Anibel Sanchez. Eleven of them had worse ERAs, by an average of about a run and a half. Remember, it’s a general rule; there are exceptions, the superlative Justin Verlander being one.

The list of exceptions, they are a-growin’, and it’ll take one hell of an out clause to explain them away.  A list of potential at-risk pitchers, compiled by Beyond The Box Score’s Peter Bendix and RotoAuthority’s Tim Dierkes, whose workloads in 2007 and 2008 fell within the Verducci Effect parameters for the 2009 season, includes John Lester, Chad Billingsley, Tim Lincecum, Jair Jurrjens, John Danks, Clayton Kershaw, and, um, Zach Grienke.  Of course, the list does include ’09 lost causes like Ervin Santana and Manny Parra, but the efficacy of this theoretical spitballing is spotty at best.  Not that I’m the first one to figure that out — back in 2006, when Verducci first went public with his findings, The Hardball Times’ Dave Gassko debunked them using a more thorough statistical approach than yours truly, and came to the following conclusion:

Pitchers who see a large increase in workload are more likely to continue to be successful than those who don’t. It’s important to remember that correlation does not mean causation—just because throwing a lot more innings than a pitcher ever has before is correlated with future success does not mean that managers should be riding their young pitchers hard—but it does imply that Verducci’s argument is incorrect, and there is absolutely no reason that we should expect these [Verducci Effect] candidates to do worse because they’ve overworked.

Now while the Yankees are presumably not just taking last year’s numbers and adding thirty, the emphasis on innings pitched rather than pitch count (or even the types of pitches thrown) puts the Joba Rules in a less than favorable light.  It’s the same sort of approach that made the 100-pitch plateau some sort of starters’ Rubicon that only a select few could cross unscathed. These sorts of restrictions are good as back-of-the-napkin guidelines, but going from that to simply applying them in any and all cases is just as bad as ignoring any safety precautions and letting 20-year-olds throw 200-pitch complete games every third day.  (And, yes, I’ve been a Baseball Prospectus subscriber for over five years now, thanks for asking.  If you’re looking for the Cliff Notes’ version of their well-worn mantra, you can read this discussion between Bill James and SI’s Joe Posnanski about Nolan Ryan and the Rangers’ newly-instituted organizational philosophy regarding starting pitchers, as well as the 100-pitch threshhold.)

At any rate, all this hand-wringing, in Joba’s case, won’t matter in a couple of weeks — the Yankee brass is on record stating that they want to make sure that Joba’s ready to go deep into games when the post-season rolls around (and “the training wheels are off,” as MLB.com’s Bryan Hoch puts it in the Joba article linked to in the 1st paragraph).  Come next year, Joba will be treated like any other starter.  Unless he continues to throw upwards of 100 pitches in five frames or less, a la inefficiency expert Scott Kazmir.  Then it’ll be time to handle with care and take heed of these wise words from Baseball Prospectus contributor Rany Jayazerli:

Throwing is not dangerous to a pitcher’s arm. Throwing while tired is dangerous to a pitcher’s arm.

So let me set some things straight while I’m here.  First of all, thanks to Jonathan Papelbon for getting his head on straight on what me coming to the Red Sox means.  And "thanks" for being willing to help with my "transition" to the American League, but I’ve been pitching longer than you’ve been stupid, Paps.  Only help I’ll need is in finding the clubhouse and the post-game spread.  Unless something’s changed in the past 10 months, the mounds are the same, and the distance to the plate is the same.  The strike zone might be changed, but that’s because umpires don’t know the black of the plate from my black ass.  This AL / NL thing is just nonsense — ain’t no one that can hit a high 90s fastball if you know where to put it, I don’t care which league you’re in or what you got yourself pumped up on.  If anyone’s gotta adjust, it’s the Junior Circuit to good old Billy Wags.

As for all you comedians trying to compare me to Eric Gagne, there’s ain’t nothing to compare.  I am 100% pure red-blooded American through and through, like Johnny Cash or Lee Greenwood.  And everyone knows that limey turd Gagne was 100% juiced-up overrated French Canadian candyass.  Ain’t no surprise that his saves went down and his ERA went up as soon as MLB started to police that steroid nonsense.  Knowing that slapshot-loving clown has a ring despite pitching like a fat Oliver Perez, while all sorts of players actually worth one goddamn (including myself) ain’t got a damn thing just … well, it just pisses me off, is what.  If you so-called fans got out of your mom’s basement and knew anything about anything, you’d know that I’m gonna give all that I got and then some when Tito gives me the ball.

Some of you might be worried because of my rep as an outspoken clubhouse type, and how that’s gonna unsettle the Boston clubhouse.  Well, excuse me for having a goddamn opinion.  And correct me if I’m wrong, but I vaguely remember a similar sort of outspoke type coming to Boston about five years ago.  And all he did while speaking his mind and calling a spade a spade was win you folks two world championships.  Now tell me who in Red Sox Nation has a problem with Curt Schilling?  Yeah, I might put my foot in my mouth once in a while, but that’s only because I like kicking ass!  And this ain’t some namby-pamby game of Go Fish we’re talking about here — this is baseball, where you gotta kick some ass to get what you want.

Do I want to be the closer instead of a set-up guy?  Hell yeah — that’s what I’ve done all my life, and getting demoted sucks.  Lemme ask all you 40-hour work week folk the same question. Let’s say you’re forced to leave your current job, go somewhere else, and take a paycut.  You wouldn’t be happy with that, right?  Well, it’s like that with me.  Except without the paycut.  And my job’s about the same.  But that ain’t the point!  The point is that it’s hard to change, and you gotta want to do it.  I’m willing to do what it takes to get Boston another World Series, and as long as no one screws it up for me, then everyone’s gonna get along just fine.

Boston Red Sox non-closer Billy Wagner hates the Facebook Farmville app.  Hey, it’s on his Wiki page, so it has to be true, right?

But you have one consolation to keep you warm through those awful off-season nights: a high-ranking draft pick in your upcoming amateur draft.  A top 5 pick.  Maybe even the number 1 pick overall.  If only there was a draft in Hollywood after you crapped your pants!  ”Sorry you couldn’t get Vinnie Chase for your Ramones biopic, Bob.  You can have Rachel Weisz and Kate Winslet for your Henry & June remake, though!  Good luck, and give my best to the missus!”

So now you’re thinking big, with your fancy high draft pick.  You’re thinking about some hotshot kid coming out of the cornfields with Bob Feller’s fastball and Don Drysdale’s bedside manner, or some seven-footer from the projects with the hands of Nathaniel “Sweetwater” Clifton handle and speed of Walt “Clyde” Frazier.  Did I tell you that I set up Walt Frazier with both Pam Grier and Peggy Lipton after the New York premier of Deep Throat?  True story.  Hell of a three-way, from what I heard.  Through the walls, that is.  Peggy asked if I wanted to tag along, but you know what they say.

Anyway, so you’re hot to trot over the next big thing, and Draft Day comes, and you get your man!  Or your woman, if that’s the way you swing — it’s the 21st century, folks , I don’t discriminate.  You’re ready to start printing commemorative jerseys with their name emblazoned on the back, and championship tickets and bobblehead dolls and all sorts of high-priced low-cost memorabilia.  But there’s one thing standing between you and your dreams: The Motherfucking Agent.

Though, as you might have guessed by some of my anecdotes, most of my expertise is in the field of film making, I can say without any doubt that sports agents are cut from the same shit-stained money-grubbing cloth as their counterparts in the entertainment industry.  But that doesn’t mean they’re difficult to deal with, if you know what you’re doing. What if I could tell you that I have three easy to remember tips on how to deal with these agents that will get you everything you want and next to nothing they or their clients want?  Is that something I could interest you in?

First lesson, and sometimes the most important: it’s OK to play hard-to-get.  Think of all the times you had a girl you were sweet on gave you the cold shoulder or, even worse, hit the breaks right when you were getting to the good parts.  Believe it or not, sex and business go hand in hand, and not just because you’re bound to get fucked eventually!  If you show too much interest in whoever you’re pursuing, that person’s bound to use that to their advantage. But if you pretend you’re not interested, and are pursuing other options, that might prick up their ears and give you the upper hand.  I came this close to getting Harrison Ford on board for a series of Remo Williams films using this strategy, and it would’ve worked if it wasn’t for that cocksucker Spielberg and that other son of a bitch Lucas.  But I digress – George and Steve are great guys, and Raiders turned out to be an alright popcorn flick.  If you like that sort of thing.

My second piece of advice: never budge.  This might sound similar to the “play hard to get” advice I just gave in the last paragraph, but it’s not!  When I say “never budge,” I’m talking about when the negotiations are getting down and dirty, and the sweat starts flying, and the guy on the other side of the table is trying to tell you that his guy is worth about ten times more than you’re willing to pay.  Look at what just happened with the Washington Nationals and the kid they drafted, this Stephen Strasburg.  (What is it with Steves being pains in the tuckus?)  Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t they talking about Strasburg getting FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS just a few months ago?  And then folks were all up in arms about how they’re not willing to sign the kid?  And now they get him for only fifteen million?  That’s a thirty-five million dollar savings, which is coincidentally what I would’ve brought Hudson Hawk in for, back when it was MY baby.  Did I tell you I taught Joel Silver everything he forgot?

My final piece of advice: don’t be afraid to walk away.  If the going gets tough, and nothing’s happening, then make something happen by doing the opposite of what they expect you to do!  Think about it!  When you have, juast as an example, some European kid that’s unwilling to “slum it” in the best country in the world and instead wants to play for some Spanish team until he’s old enough to vote, then you do what Robert DeNiro says in that movie about the mob — you fuck ‘em where they breathe!  You have some stuck-up football player wanting more than he’s worth?  Leave him on the sidelines and see how much his worth depreciates!  Let ‘em screw up their career — this only gives you leverage for when they come crawling back to you, asking for another chance.  And then you fuck ‘em again!  Show them what’s what!  Take those rat bastards to school and give them the old brown eye!  So to speak, of course.

Now it should go without saying that maybe if you follow my advice, you’ll find yourself on the ass end of an endless stream of ridicule from fans and media personalities, and some disgruntled mumblings from your superiors.  But that’s the way things go.  It takes a while for true genius and bravery to be recognized for the madness it looked like but actually wasn’t.  People thought Michael Cimino was an egomaniacal loon!  And maybe he was!  But what if I told you that this lunatic recluse with delusions of grandeur was responsible for some of the best cinema that Hollywood’s ever seen, and that you could be the sports world’s answer to him?  Is that something you could be intersted in?  Do I even need to ask the question?

Esteemed Hollywood producer Bob Ryan is currently developing a movie based on the popular Tumblr, Look At This Fucking Hipster.

But wait!  Thanks to current events, your expression of fandom can also double as a provocative (or mostly unintentional) comment on a very sensitive issue.  I’m not sure whether Falcons fans have (or want) the opportunity to nostalgically bask in the Michael Vick era through their dog’s casual wear, but it’s a fact that Eagles fans can buy a Fido-sized jersey with Vick’s name on the back.  For those that cavort and canter every time the Eagles’ Super Bowl hopes go up in smoke (or down on the turf with an ACL tear), news of this merchandising opportunity is probably just another reason to keep on hating.  Though, as noted in the not-unslanted Daily News report on this "story," it’s just business as usual for the NFL:

"Like any other player, (customers) can obtain that name and that jersey if they wish," league spokesman Greg Aiello said. "As far as putting it on the dog product, [Vick]‘s working with humane societies, working to educate others on this issue, so we don’t see a problem."

The article goes on to note that the NFL does have a list of about 1100 words, names, and phrases that they will not put on the back of their customizable jerseys, dog-sized or otherwise.  Sadly for herpes fans and folks from a certain country, this no-go- list does include MEXICO.  Interstingly enough (and maybe just a little more important than this Vick-dog-jersey non-issue), it also once included a not-uncommon surname:

The league reversed itself and will now allow personalized jerseys to have “GAY” on the back. This decision came one day after Outsports printed an article about the policy. Previously, a person trying to buy such a jersey had it rejected with the words: "This field should not contain a naughty word." (this wording was changed in response to our story to "The personalization entered cannot be accepted."). Dan Masonson, a league spokesman, told Outsports that “there was no message there” to having “gay” on a list of 1,159 banned words. After being made aware of the issue, the NFL Shop will now allow “gay” jerseys, said Masonson. “It should have not been in the [naughty words] filter,” he said.

This decision seems to have less to do with any sexual orientation statement by the league and more with the fact that there is a player in the league with the last name Gay, New England Patriots rookie defensive back Randall Gay. Randall is the first Gay in the NFL since Ben Gay played for the Cleveland Browns in 2001. For example, Masonson said there was no discussion in removing “Lesbian” or other words from the list of banned words and he explained the league’s thinking: 

“The idea behind personalized jerseys is for a fan to put his or her name on the back or possibly a nickname,” Masonson said. It is not designed for political, social or other types of statements.  

Ah, 2005 — when men were men, Bush was Bush, football players were just unrepentant steroid abusers (occasional instances of  using an instrument to destroy an unborn child notwithstanding), and you could buy your pooch a customized Patriots jersey with BIN LADEN displayed proudly on the back.  God Bless(ed) The USA (But Now He Obviously Just Wants To Cheese Off Dog Lovers And Condone Homosexuality)!

But hold on there with your lofty judgements and hoity-toity standards, says Mouthpiece Sports’ Eamonn Brennan!  ”When I draft Adrian Peterson No. 1 overall in my Iowa league this year, I could plunk down an extra $10 or $15 and, if Peterson suffers some sort of horrific season-ending injury, completely recoop (chicken or pigeon? – ED) my $100 league entry fee. This is lovely and amazing, and I will probably do it. If only health insurance were this awesome.”  CIA dudes spidering the web for tube-flavored healthcare chatter, take note!  Though I will confess that my health insurance is in fact pretty awesome — I got the deductible back from my last physical after the Yankees moved Chien-Ming Wang to the 60-day DL.  Thanks, Blue Cross!

The Wall Street Journal article Eamonn links to has more than enough information about FSI, including the site’s genesis (fuckin Tom Brady!), the site’s underwriter (fuckin Lloyd’s of London!), and the site’s prospective future (fuckin $$$$$$).  But if your thirst for FSI knowledge still isn’t slaked, there’s this brief interview with Fantasy Sports Business Dot Com, wherein the site’s creators confess through omission that, while they did hire a website and software developer, they forgot to bring a copy editor on board to edit things like, for example, the title of this blog post, which I took verbatim from FSI’s FAQ. Because they pass on the savings to you!  Unless you luck out and draft an entirely healthy fantasy football team!  Then you’re fucked!

[A]fter reporters asked him why he got hammered he led off by saying, ‘Pitch/FX is telling me that my pitches aren’t sinking as much,’ then went on about how awesome Mark Buehrle is and referenced mysterious rules he has (which he apparently broke) that he won’t reveal for fear of giving batters advantages but involve set sequences in certain counts.

[...]

He mentioned this after I’d put my recorder away, by the way, but he also talked about how the central insight of DIPS theory is that the distribution of balls in play is random enough that you should position fielders according to range rather than according to where you expect the ball to go. He’s really not a guy who’s just talking about half-understood theories.

The more I hear & read from Bannister, the more I think he might be able to lay hands on Mark Prior and turn him into a 400-game winner.  Or at the very least show an all-hat no-cattle guy like Oliver Perez the difference between a ball and a strike.

[Brian Bannister should be your favorite player / Damn you, Posnanski! | TimMarchman.com]

Although all of those Yankee haters out there were enjoying the show early in the season, as the player with the biggest contract this side of Alex Rodriguez got booed during a slow start, the story has changed.

Take a look now. [Mark] Teixeira and the Yankees are soaring.

"He’s the best player in here," Yankees outfielder Johnny Damon told FanHouse. "He’s a Gold Glove first baseman. He solidifies the No. 3 spot. He hustles, breaks up double plays. He’s everything a team would want."

Tyler Kepner, August 15th:

Teixeira is the most productive player on the team with baseball’s best record. He leads the league in total bases and extra-base hits. He won two games in June with his base running (June 2, with a takeout slide, and June 12, after Luis Castillo’s dropped pop-up), and his defense has been off the charts.

Joe Posnanski, August 15th:

Never mind that there is not a single thing that Mark Teixeira has done as well as Joe Mauer this year. Not one thing. Never mind that Mauer’s batting average is 87 points higher, his on-base percentage is 59 points higher, his slugging percentage is 57 points higher, his OPS+ is 40 points higher and he’s a freaking CATCHER, and a good one, while Teixera’s a first baseman*.

*I was about to say, “and a good one” because Teixeira was an excellent defensive first baseman in 2008 by all the numbers. But did you know that he has a minus-UZR this year, and his Dewan plus/minus is way down?

Kepner, ibid:

I say [Teixeira's defense is] off the charts because I’m convinced there is no chart that accurately measures defense. The attempt is a noble one; defense is easily the most underrated ingredient in how games are won. But I don’t fully accept it.

People often cite Ultimate Zone Rating, a metric that tries to measure range and errors and how they affect runs allowed or prevented. But how can that statistic be valid when it says Teixeria has had a negative defensive impact?

Ken Davidoff, August 19th:

Teixeira has impressed both Yankees and their observers with his defense at first base, and yet his UZR for the season is -.8. In other words, according to the metric, his defense has actually cost the Yankees eight-tenths of a run this year.

So what gives?

"Two things may have occurred," [UZR creator Mitchel] Lichtman said. "One is that maybe he actually played about average first base for (120) games. That wouldn’t be unreasonable.

" … The other is measurement error. It could be that data for (12) games is maybe in error. That’s’ no big deal."

Mike Silva, Augusth 16th:

Joe Mauer is a great player. His overall numbers are slightly better than Teixeira, especially when you look at OPS and OPS+. The fact that the Minnesota Twins are under .500 should disqualify him immediately.

Dayn Perry, August 20th:

The "MVP must come from a playoff team" line of thinking is an imported standard — one plainly at odds with the rules — and it’s time for voters to realize this fact. We saw this nonsense in the NL last season when any number of observers tried to pretend that Ryan Howard was anywhere close to as valuable as Albert Pujols.

So enough already. Voters, your instructions are unambiguous — the standings don’t matter when it comes to selecting an MVP. Even if that criterion were allowable, it would make no sense. This is baseball. You can’t let Peyton Manning throw the ball 50 times or give LeBron James 50 looks at the basket. A batter can come to plate only once every nine times, and a starting pitcher most often can take the ball only once every five days. To penalize Mauer because his teammates are worse than Teixeira’s is the depth and breadth of sloppy thinking. Oh, and it’s also against the rules

Rob Neyer, August 15th:

Maybe Tyler [Kepner] is right. Maybe if the ballots were due today, Teixeira would win. But I’m not quite convinced that’s true. And if it is true, I’m not convinced that it’s right.

Frankly, I’m worried that the baseball writers are already conspiring to rob Joe Mauer — for the third time — of an award that should rightly be his.

For most of his career, he played for a team in Wisconsin called the Green Bay Packers.  They like lots of cheese and beer in Green Bay, Wisconsin.  They also liked my dad a lot when he was playing there.  I was really little when he played for them for most of the time, but when I got older I learned from him about how good he was.  He won a Super Bowl with the Green Bay Packers when I was not even one year old, and this year he will win another one.  And maybe he can win more!  Heroes like my dad like to win lots of things like Super Bowls because that is what heroes should do.

Last year my dad played for the New York Jets.  They were not a good team according to my dad, but my dad helped them try to win a Super Bowl.  My dad tries really hard when he goes out on the field of battle.  Sometimes I have to watch between my fingers when he throws the ball because it’s so scary watching him play!  He likes to run around and make people miss him and then he throws the ball a long way.  Sometimes he has to get up and tackle people on the other team because they catch his ball which they shouldn’t do.  That’s also pretty scary!  A lot of people want to hurt my dad, because that is how you play football and win the Super Bowl.  When I get upset because people pick on me or I do bad on a math test my dad tells me that this is the way the world works and I need to pretend like it’s 4th down and the whole game is on the line and I need to air it out down field.  I’m not sure what this means but I know it’s really important.  This is one of the many important things my dad has taught me.

And now this year my dad will win a Super Bowl for the Minnesota Vikings.  I like their uniform the best out of all the uniforms I saw my dad in because I don’t like green too much.  Purple is a fun color because that is the color of grape popsicles and dried bird doo-doo.   I heard from some people that my dad once played for that team in Atlanta that had the guy that killed all the dogs who went to jail.  But he left there without winning a Super Bowl which is OK with me.  I don’t want my dad to win anything for a team that likes dog killers.  I don’t understand how you can want to kill a dog!  They’re so cute and furry!

Something else I like about my dad is that he likes to have fun.  When we play around in our ranch in Mississippi he likes to throw balls and roll around in the dirt and do lots of fun things.  One time his friend Peter King of Sports Illustrated was at the ranch and they were having fun together.  Peter King likes to give me copies of his books that he wrote when he comes over.  One of these days I’ll read them when I’m old enough!  Peter King and my dad usually go out to play some golf or hunt then when they get back my dad gave Peter King a noogie and a purple nurple!  See I told you purple was a fun color!  Then they laugh about it and had some beers afterwards.  I like giving my dad purple nurples and wet willies but he doesn’t do that to me because I’m a girl.

Finally I am happy that my dad is going back to win a Super Bowl but I was not crying like my dad said I was. What really happened is that my dad was planning on coming back the whole time everyone said he was retiring because of his shoulder.  And he told me that he was going to play a trick on everyone and tell them that it was my idea because it would be fun and he could get out of going to camp.  It would be like a big purple nurple to the world he said and I said OK.  I understand that.  I don’t like camp much either.  It’s always wet and cold and you have to sleep in a tent in a sleeping bag.  Tents are gross.

Sometimes my dad says it’s OK to lie about things when it makes other people happy.  And I actually lied a little too with my dad because even though Brett Favre is my dad and I love him I like it when my dad isn’t around all the time.  I get to watch Spongebob and iCarly on the TV because my dad isn’t around watching the NFL channel or ESPN or Spike.  And I get to call my friends on the phone because my dad isn’t hogging the phone talking to his friends like Peter King of Sports Illustrated about the Super Bowl and football.  And I can get my homework done without my dad wanting to play Nerf catch or XBox football all the time.  But I still love my dad because he’s my dad.  And that is why he is my hero.  Yay Dad!

Breleigh Favre is ten years old.  Her favorite football play is the one where you throw while falling down and the ball goes to the opposite side of the field and everyone on both teams try to catch it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

But then I read something as wrongheaded, reductive, and just all-around stupid as the latest from the blog-not-blog of former New York Times sports reporter Murray Chass, and, well, what the fuck, why not.  So, with all due apologies to Ken Tremendous & friends, pretend I didn’t just waste your time with that self-serving mea culpa up there & don’t mind me while I non-ironically bite your indomitable steez.

The Chass BLOGPOST in question is titled "No Rhyme Or Reason For Red Sox Collapse," and while its crimes against cognitive reasoning & other high-minded brain functions are numerous, it’s not the only BLOGPOST on Chass’ BLOG that’s guilty of these sorts of shenanigans.  My personal favorite is "Mike Piazza: His Back And His Bat," wherein Our Murray BLOGS about everyone’s favorite baseball topic (steroids), and his efforts to reveal Piazza as the cheating needle-sticking bastard he was.  Based on purely circumstantial evidence, AKA Piazza’s backne.  Dig this big crux:

Not that reporters spend their time in clubhouses looking at guys’ bare backs, but when a reporter is talking to a player at his locker before he puts on his uniform shirt or after he takes it off and he turns around to put something in or take something out of his locker his back is what is visible. And Piazza’s acne was always visible. Teen-age kids never had such a problem.Now as naïve as I might have been about steroids, the one thing I knew was that use of steroids supposedly causes the user to have acne on his back. As I said, Piazza had plenty of acne on his back.

When steroids became a daily subject in newspaper articles I wanted to write about Piazza’s acne-covered back. I was prepared to describe it in disgusting living color. But two or three times my editors at The New York Times would not allow it. Piazza, they said, had never been accused of using steroids so I couldn’t write about it.

But wait, I said, if I write about it, I will in effect be accusing Piazza of using steroids and then someone will have accused him of using steroids. No can do, I was told. I always took the veto to stem from the Times ultra conservative ways, but I also wondered if it maybe was the baseball editor, a big Mets’ fan, protecting the Mets.

Whatever the reason, I never got Piazza’s suspicious acne into the paper. Then all of a sudden the acne was gone. Piazza’s back was clear and clean. There was not a speck of acne on it. His back looked as smooth as a baby’s bottom.

That’s right – the Times didn’t want to go to press with Chass’ unfounded "pimples = steroids" allegations because of the paper’s "ultra conservative" ways and the editor wanting to protect his favorite team.  It wasn’t because Chass didn’t want to find actual proof (or even some anonymous sources) to support his cockeyed and slanderous math, never mind maybe doing something a little more intellectually honest with that sort of information.  Like, I don’t know, nothing at all.

But I digress.  This isn’t about Chass’ Piazza-flavored fever dreams.  This is about Chass channeling his inner Wordsworth in putting the Red Sox to bed for the 2009 season.  The same Red Sox team that, as of this afternoon, is tied with the Texas Rangers for the AL Wildcard.  I’m going to ignore the first few "paragraphs," with Chass oh-so-cleverly using nursery rhymes (and "Casey At The Bat," of course) to illuminate Boston’s recent woes, and get to the real meat in this BLOGPOST. Such as:

To start with, the vaunted starting rotation the Red Sox and many others thought they had turned out to be ephemeral.

Maybe this is revisionist spin, but the only way the Boston rotation would become anything remotely "vaunted" is if a whole lot of Gammons-y "if"s fell into place.  IF John Smoltz and Brad Penny bounce back from injury successfully, and IF Clay Buchholz or Justin Masterson could pitch as well as folks hoped, and IF Wakefield’s knuckleball kept on dancing, and IF Daisuke Matzusaka’s smoke-and-mirrors act continued, and IF the more dependable pitchers on staff didn’t break down.  And so on.  Depth, they had. Dependability, not so much.

So far Jon Lester & Josh Beckett haven’t gotten hurt, but there’s still time for that.  All the other IFs, however, haven’t panned out.  The struggles of Penny and Smoltz and Dice-K are known to all (especially by the bullpen folks forced to pick their dead asses up).  The fact that folks are viewing Wakefield’s now-delayed return from injury as a move that could save the pitching staff says as much about Boston’s pitching struggles as any less-than-inspiring start by Buccholz or Tazawa.  Sadly (for me), Chass is mostly on-point regarding the staff’s struggles, though this is pretty rich:

The Red Sox released [Smoltz] and previously had traded Justin Masterson in their desperate scramble for hitting help [...]

Trading Scott Kazmir for Victor Zambrano?  That’s desperate.  Trading for Scott Rolen when you’re well out of the playoff race?  That’s desperate.  Letting Alex Rios get claimed on waivers, and getting nothing in return?  That’s desperate.  Trading some organizational depth (including, yes, your best long reliever & swing starter) for one of the best hitting catchers in the game already signed through the 2010 season?  That just makes sense.

This kinda makes sense, too, if you try not to think about it:

[...] David Ortiz swung an invisible bat, hitting one home run and driving in 18 runs in April and May while hitting .185. The Red Sox were in second place most of the time during those two months and didn’t improve their status in the standings until Ortiz was hitting.

Standings schmandings — as Herman Edwards has said way too often, you play to win the game. That’s the only thing you can control.  Given Boston is 15 games over .500 (good for the 5th-best winning percentage in all of baseball) despite all their troubles, they’ve done their part.  Here’s what the Red Sox month-to-month records are this season:

• April: 16-10
• May: 15-14
• June: 18-8
• July: 13-12
• Aug: 7-9

Compare this to the Yankees’ scorched-earth post-ASB run:

• April: 12-10
• May: 17-11
• June: 15-11
• July: 18-9
• August: 13-4 

Thirty-one wins in six-plus weeks.  Boston would have had to play at their June level that entire time just to keep up!  As for that June performance, it’s no coincidence that it was Interleague Month.  Boston won all 5 of their series against their NL East opponents, amassing a 10-5 record against the Senior Circuit.  Throw in some games against Dontrelle Willis, Chien-Ming Wang, and the Baltimore pitching staff, and it’s no wonder Ortiz and the Red Sox as a whole had their best month of the season.  Oddly enough, Kevin Youkilis had a poor June, rate-wise, which leads Chass to this dubious fact:

Kevin Youkilis, the team’s hottest hitter early in the season, also has tailed off. After having a .402 average May 21, Youkilis hit .238 the next two months, falling to .291 on July 27

Now this is stupidity I can believe in.  Wow, Murray, a guy hitting over .400 seven weeks into the season saw his average drop all the way to .291?  Golly gee whiz — I was SURE Youk was gonna play like 1941 Ted Williams the entire year!  Never mind that Youkilis’ on-base skills (in June) and slugging (in July) kept him from being as much a millstone as Chass wants him to seem.  His batting average went from astronomical to merely above-average; ergo, he’s part of the problem.  Regardless, Youk is back to his old tricks, smacking the ball around in August to the tune of 385 / 520 / 590 over 50 ABs – watch out, Joe Mauer!

It’s funny that Chass doesn’t mention Jason Bay’s fall from grace as part of the doom-and-gloom Boston story — he was tearing the cover off the ball the first two months of the season, then wilted horribly in June & July (213 / 346 /354 over 217 PAs).  Thankfully for Boston, he’s also doing the damn thing in August, with 6 homers in only 11 games.  But maybe he’s not Soxy (or American?) enough to really earn mention in this premature eulogy.

So far, nursery rhyme boner aside, Chass isn’t doing so badly in illustrating the Red Sox’s recent troubles.  But here comes the good stuff:

The Yankees are always willing to spend more money than the Red Sox (see Johnny Damon and Jose Contreras, among others).

Perhaps.  Or maybe the Yankees had to spend more money than the Red Sox because, unlike the Red Sox, they weren’t able or willing to address their roster needs from within.  Except, of course, when the Red Sox dropped $51.1 million for the privilege of negotiating with Dice-K, or signed JD Drew for $70 million, or gave Julio Lugo $36 million to impersonate Alvaro Espinoza. And way to cherrypick examples, MC – that the Damon contract worked out didn’t make it any less dubious a move when it happened, and despite all the to-do, Contreras gave New York all of 160 IP (half good, half awful) before being dumped onto the White Sox.  Mentioning the millions spent on Sabathia and Burnett (and that first baseman of theirs) would’ve more than made this point, but I guess you can’t expect a BLOGGER to really think things through.

More recently Epstein got Victor Martinez and Casey Kotchman. Martinez has helped; Kotchman hasn’t.

Yeah, fuck you, Casey!  What the hell’s up with getting only 5 hits in 27 Boston ABs?  It’s not like you were brought in as a defensive caddy and spot-starter for Youkilis and Lowell or anything.  Get to work, chump!

And then comes the bombastic outro:

The Red Sox and the Yankees have come to think they are entitled to post-season spots. The Yankees discovered last year that that entitlement no longer exists. In the past I have cautioned Red Sox fans it doesn’t exist. They don’t believe that. But here they are, as of game time Tuesday, trailing Texas in the wild-card standings.

As insufferable as the majority of Red Sox Nation might be (never mind the entire RSN conceit), I don’t think you’ll find many long-time fans that, away from the heat of the pennant race, aren’t thrilled with the franchise’s recent run of success.  Five playoff appearances in six years, including four trips to the ALCS, two Game 7 defeats, and two World Series trophies.  When Chass pictures a Red Sox fan, he must envision some ignorant bandwagon humping pink hat that wants Jason Varitek to get re-signed to a long term deal this offseason.  (A long-time diehard Sox fan probably wants Varitek back, too, but at least they’re wearing more presentable fan couture while being completely wrong.  And they’re also still bitter about the Jeff Bagwell trade.)

And oh yeah, as of Murray BLOGGING this, Boston was all of ONE GAME BACK.  And now, after last night’s results, they’re tied with Texas.  Granted, the rest of Boston’s schedule looks quite unforgiving — six more games against Tampa Bay, seven against New York, and another three-game series against the Angels, never mind their entire season series against a potentially Peavy-powered White Sox team.  But they’re by no means dead in the water.  Unlike Chass’ post-retirement career as a cranky-ass stat-hating BLOGGER.  A career that’ll hopefully only be acknowledged by like-minded dopes, and folks  like me that despite knowing better can’t help but want to get worked up over ill-informed "provocative" commentary from a once-lauded sportswriter that’s well past his sell-by date.

[Thanks to / blame Repoz at Baseball Think Factory for the Chass link]