A Graphical Tribute to Fergie Jenkins and Greg Maddux

Fergie Jenkins and Greg Maddux had their number 31 retired by the Cubs today. Both were obviously great pitchers, and as is my tendency when I read about various baseball-related honors, I dove into the numbers in an attempt to quantify just how great each of these guys really was. All of my data comes from BaseballProjection.com's wonderful pitcher WAR database.

First off, I borrowed a move from the fine folks at Beyond the Boxscore and graphed each pitcher's WAR in descending order from his best season in a Cubs uniform to his worst (partial seasons are included as full seasons for simplicity's sake):

The results shouldn't surprise anyone. Both Jenkins and Maddux essentially started and finished their careers in Chicago (Jenkins pitched a whopping 14.2 innings for the Phillies before coming to Chicago to begin his career in earnest; Maddux pitched two more respectable years for the Dodgers and Padres before hanging up his spikes three years after his Chicago swan song), but Jenkins developed faster and enjoyed his best seasons in a Cubs uniform, whereas Maddux didn't emerge as an ace until his final season in Chicago, after which he was (in)famously allowed to walk, so his prime years were for the Braves. A graph of each pitcher's Cubs career path puts these developmental discrepancies in rather stark perspective:

Maddux's career was on the upswing when he left for Atlanta, while Jenkins had already peaked before he moved on to Texas. If we expand each pitcher's career path to include every stop in his big league career, the advantage shifts to Maddux:

Jenkins peaked earlier, but Maddux sustained his peak (and his career) longer, though mostly as a Brave. Revisiting each pitcher's descending seasonal WAR while taking into account his entire career gives Maddux the edge over Jenkins:

Of course, it's important to remember that Maddux put up most of these numbers in Atlanta rather than Chicago; seven of his top ten seasons (#1 and #'s 3-8) were as a Brave, while Jenkins put up seven of his top ten seasons (#'s 1-2, 4-7, and 10) as a Cub. Breaking up each player's total WAR as a Cub and overall really hammers home this difference:

Jenkins was worth 81.4 WAR over his career, and 53.5 of those wins were with the Cubs. Maddux's career WAR was 96.7, but only 31.4 of those wins were in Cubbie blue. Maddux was the more valuable pitcher; Jenkins was the more valuable Cubs pitcher.

None of this changes the fact that both Jenkins and Maddux are beloved by Cubs fans (and rightly so!). Congratulations to both players for this well-deserved honor. I look forward to watching the number 31 flapping in the breeze at Wrigley for many years to come.

Because as Much as I Dig the Longball, I Still Think Speed is Totally Awesome...

...I have to throw up a quick link to Carl Crawford's record-tying six stolen base performance against Boston this afternoon. Crawford went 4-for-4 with a walk while running Jason Varitek and the Boston pitching staff ragged in a 5-3 win for the Rays. Admittedly, I was initially a bit surprised that, despite Crawford's baserunning antics, his Tampa Bay teammates had only driven him in twice. But then I remembered that even though the last time I saw a player swipe six bags in a game he also scored six runs, that game was in MVP Baseball 2004 for the Playstation 2; this was a real game.

Poor Jason Varitek.

Serendipity

When I was a youngin', I dreamt of baseball glory. I collected shoeboxes full of baseball cards. I watched every Cubs game I could to see my idols play and, more often than not, lose (this was the early '90s). I played pickup games with the neighborhood kids at the end of the street ("first base is that oil slick, second is the manhole cover..."), games that lasted until dark or until we hit a tennis ball into a car and had to scatter while the angry owner stormed outside to shut off a screeching alarm. On days when there was nobody to play ball with, I imagined 3-2 counts in the bottom of the ninth, bases loaded, my Cubs down by three and battling the powerhouse A's in game seven of the World Series, then threw pinecones into the air and stroked them into the stands with my whiffle bat amidst the cheers of thousands of imaginary spectators.

So when I turned nine it was only natural that, like so many other nine year olds have done for so many years, I signed up for Little League baseball. And it was there my dreams died.

In retrospect, I really wish I'd stuck with the game. I still love baseball (more than ever, in fact), and who knows? Had I played past my awkward years, I might even have become a respectable ballplayer. But at the time, my eyesight was crap (corrective eyewear would change that soon afterwards), my reflexes at the plate were godawful, and I had this idiotic idea that, despite the fact that I probably weighed something in the neighborhood of sixteen pounds, I should be using a wooden bat like the big leaguers. To top it all off, I was in the North Mission Viejo Little League, which has won at least one Little League World Series title that I'm aware of. In other words, the kids around me were good, and I was not.

Put simply, I absolutely could not seem to hit. I carried a .000 batting average for the entire season (no, that's not a typo, and it's not defeatist hindsight). But when I walked (which was often, since even as a kid with bad eyes, I could lay off a pitch three feet out of the zone) or got hit by a pitch (also often thanks to those "reflexes"), I basically had an automatic triple unless there were runners ahead of me. According to league rules, runners had to wait until pitches crossed the plate before attempting to steal, and leadoffs were not allowed. But even at nine, I was fast. Hell, I even stole home once when I misunderstood a sign. The catcher was so shocked that he dropped the ball, and by the time he had picked it up again and shifted to his left to apply a tag, I was already under his glove.

Unfortunately, my Little League impression of an extremely patient Willie Mays Hayes did not endear me to my teammates, most of whom would probably have preferred to have me handing out bats instead of swinging them. But among the kids who never treated me any differently once it became obvious that I was nothing more than a track and field kid moonlighting in sliding pants and stirrups was David Aardsma.

David was, like me, a diehard Cubs fan who had to watch his favorite team lose from 1500 miles away. Unlike me, he was coordinated and talented. But our Cubs connection meant that we talked baseball a lot in the dugout and at school, and our moms caught on to this and started sitting together at games. But when I foolishly quit Little League after that one dismal season, I saw less and less of David, until he eventually moved away a couple years later.

Flash forward fourteen years. It was April 6, 2004, and I'd tuned in to a Giants/Astros game to listen to in the background while I did some chores when I heard a familiar name: David Aardsma was making his Major League debut in relief for the Giants. I abandoned my domestic plans to sit down and watch as a now 6'5", 200 lb David with a shaved head, a goatee, and one hell of a fastball pitched two solid innings and picked up his first big league win. To this day, I remember him getting that win against his childhood idol, Roger Clemens, though apparently it was Andy Pettite who started for the 'Stros. Perhaps my subconscious decided that absent-mindedly turning on a random baseball game on a random day only to see a childhood friend pick up his first Major League win in his first Major League start wasn't serendipitous enough; this memory had to be Hollywood caliber, and so naturally David would have had to face the Rocket.

Since that afternoon five years ago, I've followed David as he's bounced from team to team. He even landed with the Cubs for a while, during which time I got to see him pitch live for the first time since I was in third grade. But I slacked off a bit this season. I knew that he'd moved out west to pitch for the Mariners, but it wasn't until I stumbled upon an article over at The Baseball Analysts that I realized how good David has been so far in this young season. Dave Allen took a look at the expected run values of every pitch thrown by every pitcher in 2009, and atop the fastball list is David Aardsma.

Here's hoping that Aardsma can continue to keep his hits allowed totals down and cut down on the walks that have largely offset his solid K/9 rates over the course of his Major League career. Best of luck to you, David; you may be in the wrong jersey, but you've got at least one diehard Cubs fan rooting for you from the flatlands.

All VORP Needs Now is the "Weird Al" Treatment and it Will Officially Have Hit the Big Time

It would seem the fine folks at The Onion have a VORPie in their midst. I can only hope that Marco Scutaro actually does calculate his own VORP before every at bat, at least until he inevitably starts playing like Marco Scutaro again; he's off to a very nice (.280/.420/.505, OPS+ 141) but likely unsustainable start for the Jays this year.

I have to admit to being a little disappointed that The Onion's resident stathead didn't close his article by revealing that Brian Bannister, statistician extraorinairre, was on the mound recalculating his own VORP after tallying another K.

Well played regardless, anonymous Onion writer.

Oh God.

It's happening again.

Marlins 4 Mets 3

J. Santana
7.0 IP 5 H 2R 3BB 7K
ND

I thought this was the year they fixed this problem. Look for Johan Santana to finish the year with a 13-7 record, a 1.05 WHIP, and 9.5 K/9. He will finish 8th in Cy Young voting.

Yovani: "I got this guys."

Milwaukee Brewers 1 Pittsburgh Pirates 0

While Yovani Gallardo was busy striking out 11 Pirates and giving up only 2 hits and a walk, his teammates were busy getting shutout by Ian Snell despite getting 4 hits and 4 walks and only 5 strikeouts. So in the bottom of the seventh Yovani decided to do it his damn self and crushed a pitch into the left field stands.

Gallardo is rocking right now. Unfortunatly NL Central Stage favorite R.J. Swindle got sent down to Nashville when the Brewers activated Trevor Hoffman. He only got one appearance with the Brewers while he was up. We wish him the best of luck and hope to see him thoroughly infuriating hitters soon.

St. Louis Cardinals PWMBA: Richard Ankiel

The story of Rick Ankiel was a great one before the HGH thing and now it's just another tale of MLB corruption and greed in a world with no law. The streets run cold and the moon whispers secrets told in dark alleys and private rooms. Rick Ankiel did not ask to protect this city but he must have his revenge. Catch all the action in the new thriller/porno "Skin City."

Rick Ankiel's journey from unpredictable pitcher to power outfielder is an interesting one but it has been told many times and is not the purpose of this post. His numbers since becoming an outfielder are and here we go.

Rick's numbers so far have been very good. A good showing in 2007 (.285/.328/.535 in only 47 games) got him a slot in 2008 where he posted a .264/.337/.506 line, good for an EqA of .287. He has been solid but not outstanding in center field with a rate of 92 in 2008. Ankiel appears to be a good player who will continue to produce for years to come.

The concern, however, seems to lie in his ability to take walks and be selective. Ankiel took 3.83 pitches per plate appearance in 2008, tying him with teammate Albert Pujols. Ankiel walked 9.2% of the time while Pujols walked 16.6% of the time. Ankiel should learn to be more selective at the plate.

Is it unreasonable to compare Ankiel to Pujols? Of course. Pitchers are much less likely to throw hittable pitches to Pujols than Ankiel so Pujols should walk more. 3.83 P/PA is also similar to Ryan Ludwick (3.84) and Paul Konerko (3.82), two hitters I would consider to be more comprable to Ankiel. Ludwick drew a walk 10.3% of the time and Konerko 12.9%. I think it would be reasonable to hope for Ankiel to raise his BB% a little and be more selective but it is not dangerously low.

Ankiel should remain a solid fielder with good power. Most projections predict him to post about a .260/.320/.490. Those are solid numbers but certainly not elite. The reason I included Ankiel as part of this series is because I think this season will be very telling for his future. He has now had a full season to adjust to his position and needs to start developing if he will continue to find success at the major league level. If he can get on base at a higher rate while keeping his power numbers strong, then I believe he will flourish. If not, then I think he will find that as he ages and his power numbers drop his inability to get on base at a greater rate will start to be a greater problem. I would set the bar at a 10% walk rate and a .500 SLG. If Ankiel can meet those numbers that I would say he has a good chance of continued performance above a major league level. If not, he may want to turn himself into a gold glove shortstop or find a different career. Perhaps the film industry would suit him.

David Eckstein Will Lay Eggs in Your Heart, and They Will Hatch into Padres Wins

Fun statistic of the day: through Monday, April 27th, there is only one position player among the top ten (actually, due to a multi-player tie for 5th, the top twelve) in the National League in sacrifice hits. That player is tied for the league lead with five. And his name?

David Eckstein.

Now, in Eckstein's defense, he is hitting .309/.377/.426. Also in Eckstein's defense, seemingly, is every sportswriter in America (note: may be a gross exaggeration). But there is no way that David Eckstein, a man with as much extra-base power as a kitten with a bat taped to its adorable little paws, is going to sustain even a .426 SLG.

None of this would be all that bad from a bottom-of-the-order glove man, but Eckstein's glove is no great shakes, and the Padres are batting him second. And yes, I know that this is the Padres we're talking about here, but even if we assume for a moment that Eckstein does in fact belong in the two spot for the Friars, what in the holy hell is he doing with five sacrifice hits in only seventeen games? That's either a lot of failed bunts for hits (not a good sign), or five votes of no confidence from manager Bud Black. Traditionalists be damned; if your team isn't doing anything but moving the runner over when the two man takes a swing, it's time to re-evaluate that batting order.

But hey, at this rate, Eckstein will finish the season with 41 SH, the highest total since the start of the Great Depression. So he's got that going for him. Which is nice.

I guess.

Albert Pujols is Good at Baseball

Just to put Pujols' lightning-fast start into perspective, he is currently on pace to score 162 runs, drive in 203, and collect 194 H, 32 2B, 57 HR, 397 TB, and 130 BB against only 49 SO. Hell, he's even stolen 3 bases in the last week and is on pace for 24 assuming he doesn't remember that he's Albert Pujols.

But the craziest thing about Pujols' start is that it's not even all that crazy. Sure, there's no way he'll keep scoring/driving in runs at his current rate, and Albert has never hit 50 HRs in a season (which, importantly, is not the same thing as saying that he is incapable of hitting 50+), but Pujols' .333/.457/.681 line is very similar to his monstrous 2008 numbers (.357/.462/.653).

At this point, if I were a responsible statgeek, I'd start delving into historical BABIP, GB/LD/FB rates, and such. But I'm not a responsible statgeek. I'm a statgeek who figured out that Pujols' season numbers to date, when multiplied by 8.1 (to "project" those numbers out to 162 games), are hilarious.

Big Dick Ankiel

Just prior to the season beginning, on the morning sports-talk radio show I listen to daily, there was much discussion about Rick Ankiel desperately wanting to now be referred to as "Dick" as opposed to Rick. This was enough to make me chuckle. I mean, first off, why? Let's forget the juvenile sexual connotation for a moment and dwell on the fact that since he first came to the big leagues at 20 years old, he's been known as Rick.

I mean, if I randomly started referring to myself and asking those around me to refer to me as "Stevie" from here on out, I'm sure that'd be met with some odd responses. I decided when I was 9 that I was no longer Stephen, I was Steve. I made my bed and I have lain in it. Stevie Wonder was "Little Stevie Wonder" and now he's a 60 year old man who has to go by a little kid's name. Them's the breaks.

But Rick's not that bad of a name, is it? Certainly the best derivative of Richard. Better than Rich, better than Ricky. And definitely better than Dick. Who actually WANTS to be called Dick?

I'll tell you who. A porno star.

A week or so ago Dick Ankiel shaved off his beard and left himself with a primo pornstar mustache. Solid and true. I'm actually a little jealous of it.

Perhaps he wants to start a new trend? Perhaps to get him out of his early season slump? But perhaps, and most likely, in my opinion, it's to set in motion his one true dream - that of porn stardom. Pining to be referred to as sexual slang combined with that awesome piece of facial hair can only lead to that conclusion. He didn't know how to get his foot in the door of the porn industry, and so he became a fearsome young pitcher - his second love, only to that of pussy. When that failed, he set out to become a feared hitter. And now that that is trickling away, and he is a household name, he sees that his time has come (pun intended).

So here's to the current Cardinal centerfielder and a future porn legend. Let's all raise a glass and a salute to Big Dick Ankiel.