2015 ROYALS—The Things We Don't Know

But talk about anyway...

Jarrod Dyson—2015

In a June game against the Seattle Mariners, Jarrod Dyson hits a potential double play groundball, jogs down to first base and the Mariners turn two. Jarrod’s one of the fastest baseball players on the planet, so when you see him jogging down the first base line it’s like seeing Dale Earnhardt Jr. riding a skateboard:

It seems like he should be going a whole lot faster.

The team doesn’t say Dyson’s hurt; in fact, Ned Yost says Dyson’s healthy and maybe Ned thinks he is (News Flash: players aren’t always honest with the trainers) but it turns out Dyson has tweaked a groin muscle.

(Insert “Whose groin?” joke here.)

Then in a game against the Astros, Jarrod hits a ball back to the pitcher and once again goes into cruise control on his way to first base. Dyson is criticized on the local TV broadcast and that sets off the type of people who post uninformed comments on social media.

I’m one of them.

Here’s what Jarrod Dyson has to say about all this:

“Right there, it’s all about being smart. You don’t have to hustle every play. I don’t take plays off. I hustle. If I can go, I’m getting down the line. But right there, you’ve got to be smart. Just because if it’s feeling good doesn’t mean it’s gone all the way.”

Now here’s a quote from a Kansas City Star story on Dyson’s perceived lack of hustle:

“I’ve got one person to answer to, and that’s not Twitter. That’s my manager.”

So if Jarrod Dyson is actually banged up and trying to play through it, but being cautious whenever possible, why not say so?

Because it would give the Royals’ opponents an advantage.

If I’m a pitcher and I think I have a healthy Jarrod Dyson standing on first base, I have to use all the tricks in the book to keep him from stealing second base. I hold the ball in the set position, I attempt pickoffs, I throw more fastballs, I slide step—I might even throw a pitchout. I’m distracted by Jarrod’s presence on first base and all the things I’m doing to stop Jarrod from stealing second base will help the hitter at the plate.

If I know Jarrod’s playing hurt I don’t do any of that.

The media loves to write about injuries, lineup changes and roster moves; they’re easy stories that fit the definition of news, so we go after them aggressively. Which sometimes backfires because teams don’t always owe us the whole truth; a team should not give away an advantage just because a reporter needs a story.

Hang around a team long enough, develop enough relationships so people will tell you what’s really going on (sometimes it has to be told off the record) and you begin to understand just how much outsiders don’t know:

• Chris Getz gets picked off first base and is hammered by critics for being a dummy. Later you find out Chris got picked off because he was stealing signs and looked in the catcher’s direction just as the pitcher threw over to first base. Getz doesn’t want that information out there because A.) He doesn’t want to get drilled the next night and B.) He plans on stealing more signs.

• Jason Kendall does not hustle down and break up a double play when he has the chance; instead he peels out of the base path early. Later you find out Kendall’s throwing shoulder is dinged up and he doesn’t want that information out there because teams will start running on him.

• Alcides Escobar lays down a sacrifice bunt in the first inning and Ned Yost gets roasted for playing Small Ball too early. Later you find out Esky did it on his own.

As you might have already noticed the word “later” appeared in all three examples. In the Good Old Days—like four years ago—I could wait to find out the real story before writing about those plays. Now, because of social media, I’m expected to comment right now this minute.

In 2015 if you’re covering baseball you’re expected to be on Twitter and if you’re on Twitter you’re expected to Tweet fairly often which means reporters are desperately looking for things to comment about and that’s why we Tweet important information like the guy you just watched hit a home run, did in fact hit a home run.

We’re also big on food, music and weather—whatever the hell will give us something to Tweet about and keep our bosses happy because our bosses want us to Tweet as often as possible which means we’re not really watching the game because we’re too busy coming up with “snarky” comments to post on the internet.

And Now A “Snarky” Digression

After Twitter becomes a thing, in World Record time I come to hate the word “snarky” (“critical or mocking in an indirect sarcastic way”) because even though it’s very popular on the internet, in reality it’s a bunch of people mocking professional athletes who are clearly more athletic than they are, make more money than they do, tend to be better looking (good genetics are good genetics) have hotter girlfriends and/or wives (why limit yourself) and compared to most journalists, are better people.

I’ve never had a ballplayer swipe my material and use it without attribution, steal a video idea or try to secretly record a private conversation, but I’ve had fellow media members do all that.

Basically, being “snarky” about players makes us look like a bunch of wimpy nerds sitting at the Losers’ table in the high school cafeteria and ridiculing the captain of the football team and his cheerleader girlfriend, but doing it behind their backs because the captain of the football team scares the living shit out of us.

There’s a reason most professional athletes don’t like most reporters.

(And now that I’ve got that off my chest and on to yours, back to Twitter.)

To make things even worse, in this new era of instant communication, fans have no patience; in the middle of a game they’ll ask why Ned Yost didn’t use a certain reliever. Hey, the game’s still going on; we haven’t had a chance to ask Ned anything. How the fuck would we know what Ned’s thinking?

It seems like fans prefer wild speculation now over accurate information later and if you won’t provide wild speculation now, you’re hurting your career in sports journalism.

So when Jarrod Dyson doesn’t hustle down to first base, there’s no time to find out why, just get that information out there: “FASTEST GUY ON PLANET SEEN JOGGING!” And if Jarrod gets unfairly criticized, that’s his problem. But if Jarrod Dyson was hurt, some of us owe him an apology.

And I’m on that list.

July 3, 2015—Twins

Big League debuts can be extremely stressful; the new kid shows up and the circus begins.

He’s got to meet dozens of new teammates, coaches and staff members, everyone in the media wants a quote and coaches are trying to cram information down the kid’s throat as quickly as possible; there’s a lot to absorb before 7:10 PM. Meanwhile, he probably has family and friends flying in at the last second to see his Big League debut; he’s got to get them tickets and make sure they’re taken care of. He might try to watch some video or read scouting reports, but how much is he absorbing?

Some of that might explain what happens to Dusty Coleman.

Christian Colon has been sent down to the minors and Coleman’s been brought up. In the bottom of the ninth inning in a tie game, Coleman’s sent out to pinch run for Salvador Perez at second base. Omar Infante makes the first out of the inning when he sac bunts Coleman to third and Alex Rios to second. Mike Moustakas steps to the plate looking for a pitch he can hit to the outfield for a sac fly and Moose gets the job done.

When Dusty sees Mike’s fly ball, he tags up and heads for home, but halfway there suffers a crisis of confidence, changes his mind and tries to go back to third base. It’s a Major League brain-cramp and results in an inning-ending double play. Lucky for Dusty the Royals win in extra innings; but after four games, five at bats and zero hits, Dusty is sent back to Omaha.

This is what Jason Kendall was talking about when he praised Eric Hosmer’s presence of mind during Eric’s major league debut; most rookies are train wrecks in their first game.

Hosmer wasn’t; Coleman has his problems.

Rusty Kuntz—1979

After I write about Dusty Coleman and how a player’s Big League debut can be nerve-wracking, Rusty Kuntz tells me about his.

Rusty was a September call-up to the White Sox in 1979. His minor league season had ended, he knew he was going up, so he headed for the Big League team, arrived in the clubhouse and put on his first major league uniform. A pretty cool moment until Rusty asked what they wanted him to do.

They told him to take off his uniform.

Rusty had shown up a day early and wasn’t on the active roster. So Rusty put his street clothes back on and went out to sit in the stands—the first Big League game he ever saw.

Rusty Kuntz had a .236 lifetime average, but still played in the Big Leagues for seven years. I don’t care what a guy hits, anyone who finds a way to spend seven years in the Big Leagues is a pretty good ballplayer and—in Rusty’s case—an even better coach.

July 5, 2015—Twins

It’s the eighth inning and the game’s tied 2-2. Ned Yost has decided to use his set-up man Wade Davis; Ned believes that if the Twins don’t score in the next two innings, somehow the Royals will.

Davis is about to face Aaron Hicks, Brian Dozier and Joe Mauer. If anyone gets on base, Torii Hunter and Trevor Plouffe are next in line. Hicks flies out to right field, but then Brian Dozier doubles. That brings Joe Mauer to the plate. The go-ahead run is in scoring position, first base is open and Wade needs two outs.

Coming into this at bat Joe Mauer has hit .429 off Wade Davis. The two hitters that follow Mauer—Torii Hunter and Trevor Plouffe—have each hit .167. The solution seems obvious: use the open base, walk Mauer and go after Hunter and Plouffe.

So why in the world did Davis pitch to Mauer?

After the game, I ask Wade that question and he asks me one in return: Joe has six hits in 14 at bats against Wade, but when did Joe get those hits?

Wade says he’s had fairly good results off Mauer lately and he’s not the same pitcher he was in those early encounters. As always, the raw numbers don’t tell the whole story; it’s not just what you hit off a pitcher, it’s when you hit it.

Your career numbers might look good, but right now you’re not hitting that pitcher.

Wade also felt comfortable throwing to Mauer for what might seem like an odd reason: Davis has given up enough hits to Mauer to know what not to do. Other hitters—guys with fewer plate appearances against Wade—are still question marks.

Davis thought that if he gave Mauer a pitch on the outer half of the plate, Joe had a good chance of hitting a line drive to left field; that’s his strength. Pitch Mauer inside and the odds would be in Wade’s favor.

Davis wants to pitch to Mauer because he knows what to throw and what to avoid. I ask Wade if Joe ever looks for an inside pitch and he says, yeah, but it’s not Mauer’s strength—especially if your fastball has a little pop.

And then there’s slugging percentage.

Wade uses Jim Thome as an example; say Thome hits you for a .250 average, but those hits are doubles and bombs—you don’t mess with Thome unless you have to. You know your odds of getting him out are good, but if he gets you there’s a chance Thome will do real damage.

So once again the raw numbers don’t tell you everything; there are numbers within numbers and a smart pitcher takes all that into account and Wade Davis is a very smart pitcher.

Davis goes after Mauer and strikes him out. Meanwhile, the guy who’s hit .167 off Davis—Torii Hunter—smokes a line drive; but it’s a line drive right at Alcides Escobar. Greg Holland gets the Royals through a scoreless top of the ninth and the Royals score in the bottom of the inning to win the game; give Ned Yost credit—in this case he was right.

Wade Davis finishes the day with a ridiculous 0.25 ERA.

So the fact that Davis has failed against Mauer earlier in his career actually helps Davis succeed against Mauer in this game; Wade knew what to do and what to avoid. Why did Wade Davis pitch to Joe Mauer?

Because Joe Mauer hit .429 off him—and now it’s down to .400.

July 7, 2015—Rays

The Royals win the first game of a doubleheader when Paulo Orlando hits a bottom of the ninth, walk-off Grand Slam. It’s an exciting moment for Paulo, but Royals hitting coach Dale Sveum deserves some credit.

Tampa Bay reliever Brad Boxberger throws his fastball most of the time, but in certain situations his changeup becomes the percentage pitch. Dale tells Paulo to look for it; it’s an off-speed pitch Boxberger can throw for strikes.

When Paulo Orlando comes to the plate with the bases loaded, Brad Boxberger has thrown 16 pitches in the inning and seven were changeups. Dig a little deeper and you see that the two guys in front of Orlando—Alex Rios and Omar Infante—were started with fastballs that missed and with the count 1-0, Boxberger threw both of them a changeup.

It’s a pattern Boxberger repeats one too many times.

When Boxberger starts Orlando with a fastball that misses, the changeup becomes the percentage pitch. You cannot fall into patterns with good hitters at the plate or good hitting coaches in the dugout.

Paulo Orlando hits the 1-0 changeup Sveum told him to look for out of the ballpark and the Royals walk off with a 9-5 win.

Next Up: Alex Gordon goes down and Jarrod Dyson steps up.