Earlier today Zack Hayes wrote a thorough and optimistic analysis of the newly solidified Sox lineup. I'm not sure where he got his numbers, but he predicts a stronger, slightly slower line-up with a similar ability to get on base as last year's squad. I've gotta say I like the sound of that. It's especially uplifting when combined with the smattering of gold that will be gracing the hands of this lineup when they take to the Fenway grass.

Here is one projected starting line up that I've seen: Crisp, Loretta, Ortiz, Ramirez, Youkilis, Nixon, Varitek, Lowell, Gonzalez. I don't like it. Here's the order I'd prefer to see: Loretta, Youkilis, Ortiz, Ramirez, Varitek, Crisp, Nixon, Lowell, Gonzalez

Here's the stats:
2005
AB SLG OBP RBI R AVG
1. Loretta 2B 404 .347 .360 38 54 .280
2. Youkilis 1B 79 .405 .400 9 11 .278
3. Ortiz DH 601 .604 .397 148 119 .300
4. Ramirez LF 554 .594 .388 144 112 .292
5. Varitek C 470 .489 .366 70 70 .281
6. Crisp CF 594 .465 .345 69 86 .300
7. Nixon RF 408 .446 .357 67 64 .275
8. Lowell 3B 500 .360 .298 58 56 .236
9. Gonzalaz SS 435 .368 .319 45 45 .264

Youkilis is the lineup's calculated risk with only 79 major league at bats last year, but who among us doesn't think he's ready to play everyday? Talk about paying dues - he's been grinding in Pawtucket for years. The time is finally here to see what the Youk can do. Hayes brings up a good point by writing that he hopes to see Tito place the Greek God of On-Base-Percentage into the number two slot and use Loretta as leadoff - Loretta has a decent OBP, but doesn't carry much boom in the bat.

Crisp would make for a nice number six guy. Just because the man can steal bases is no reason to make him the lead off hitter of the Boston Red Sox as many Boston sports writers are penning for - the Sox don't steal bases (except when it counts). The bottom line is that Crisp doesn't have a high OBP, and the Sox want guys on base when Papi and Manny come to the plate.

Varitek has got to be the number 5 - Papi, Manny, and Tek are the heart of this order with each of them able to get on base and hit for power. Don't break up that monster trio.

Trot'll work out nicely in the seven slot. He's got a medium ability to get on base, and he's got medium power. Plus, it's the number he wears on his back. Heh.

I stuck Lowell at number 8 based on last year's numbers. If he hits like pre-2005, then all bets are off. A return to form for Lowell would make him much more valuable towards the front of the line up where he would get those extra at bats per game.

As for Gonzalez - well, he's got glove; unless he goes Cabrera on us and comes up with a crazy season, he's number nine.

With all this said, please, let's not forget good people, that spring training hasn't even begun. If you look at pre-spring training starting line-ups for 2004, then you'll see Nixon and Garciaparra sitting snugly amongst the other cowboy-uppers, but neither of them saw an at bat on Opening Day.

Thanks for the therapy.

So I accidentally listened to the idiots on WEEI again this morning. Theo-mania got me, and my fever-induced dementia made me spin the dial so I could hear the latest on the return of our spurned former GM. The barking tones at first sounded like angelic harps delivering earfuls of joyous news. Then, as sometimes happens during the hours of sports talk, the hosts side-tracked and actually began to talk about what the players do on the field. To my horror and dismay these words were uttered by one of the hosts: "Bill Mueller is an average player." I almost cut my lip off. Surely, this is a ridiculous statement..

I have been upset about the replacement of Mueller with Mike Lowell at third base mostly because of the combination of Mueller being my favorite player and Lowell's abysmal 2005 season. Lowell's 2005 wasn't just bad, it was horrendous. However, one year, a career doesn't make. So I decided to look at a larger sample, say 5 years. Low and behold my eyes played tricks – over the last five years, Lowell was the better offensive player. Not by much, but by enough. 2005 and 2003 were Mueller's, but 2004, 2002, and 2001 were Lowell's – and Lowell is 3 years younger than Mueller (and less prone to injury as can be seen from Mueller's sagging at bats in 2001, 2002, and 2004).


It's funny, but they're almost the same offensive player. If we call 2005 an injury year for Lowell (mental and 2004, 2002, and 2001 injury years for Mueller then that leaves 2003 as the honest-comparison year. But in 2003, Mueller's batting-champion year, he wasn't all that much better than Lowell. Plus he was incredibly un-Mueller like – the season was an anomaly year for Mueller while it was a somewhat average year for Lowell.

Moving forward two years Mueller was relatively healthy in 2005, Lowell's crappy year, and Mueller only had 4 more RBI's and 13 more runs on the most productive line-up in baseball (I grant that runs and RBI's aren't the most scientific comparison, but still). It could be argued that Mueller wouldn't have been better than Lowell in 2005 if Lowell hadn't been so extremely un-Lowell like.

Here's the stats:

2005 AB SLG OBA RBI R BA
Lowell 500 .360 .298 58 56 .236
Mueller 519 .430 .369 62 69 .292

2004
Lowell 598 .505 .365 85 87 .293
Mueller 399 .446 .365 57 75 .283

2003
Lowell 492 .530 .350 105 76 .276
Mueller 524 .540 .398 85 85 .326

2002
Lowell 597 .471 .346 92 88 .276
Mueller 353 .402 .355 37 51 .266

2001
Lowell 551 .448 .340 100 65 .283
Mueller 210 .448 .403 23 38 .295

It's comforting to see that the Red Sox might be fine at third base in 2006 with the out-ing of Mueller and the in-ing of Lowell - maybe even better, if Lowell returns to pre-2005 form. But the fact remains that Mueller is not an average player. Average players don't win batting titles; average players don't hit grand slams from both sides of the plate in one game; and average players don't get nicknames like "Billy Ballgame." It bothers me that the Boston sports media (and often the Boston fans) tend to re-write a player's history after they leave the Sox. They suddenly lose all the talent that they had while they wore a Boston uniform. As one of the most educated sports towns in the country we have one important thing to learn if we want to have more seasons like 2004 - we need to be baseball fans first, and Red Sox fans second.
As always – thanks for the therapy.


- Pete

In 1996 I philosophized that any genius entrepreneur would try to create a
second Super Bowl since the current one is the largest day of promotional
commerce in existence. I predicted that it would be The College Super Bowl
or Super Bowl II. The BCS is the failed, transitional precursor to this
(until there is a playoff) but this year they accidentally got it right.
History will look back at this Wednesday's game as the first College Super
Bowl like MTV's The Real World is widely regarded as the first Reality Show.

Do I dare put a stamp on this vision by doing $2 USC-Texas, College Super
Bowl Squares?

(X rebutted that he thought Leave It To Beaver was the first "reality show."

I normally don't get all teary-eyed over baseball anniversaries, because I save it for my annual viewing of Ken Burns' Baseball. But, today being "Cowhide" Kelp Johnsonians' twentieth rolling over in the grave, combined with the fact that jock itch has pretty much been eradicated from the planet, I just have been feeling that mix of blue and wacky all day. I'll admit it, I miss Kelp. He was not just a great player, but was a great insane man.

I mean who else, but Kelp, had back-to-back inside-the-park bunt home-runs? Who else herded and slaughtered his own cattle to ensure a stiff yet supple glove? Who else was not only a master grounds-keeper but could also explain the Brownian Motion of his knuckleball? Don't answer. I know the answer. Ripple-faced, limp-legged Kelp.

Only Kelp would dare you to love the game more than he did. Only Kelp would call for the 7th Inning Stretch of the Imagination. Only Kelp would have the largest collection of beach balls that accidently made it onto the field of play such that play was halted during a World Series seventh game.

When I got home from work, I was flipping through the Baseball Encyclopedia and it brought back some memories. I had forgotten that Kelp was the only player to pitch, to bat, and to umpire. Yes, on July 30, 1976 in Baltimore he impersonated an umpire. His longtime rival was making a bid at Kelp's "strike-outs during a solar eclipse" record. Kelp gave out lots of bases on balls that day and latter in the week when he was exposed by a reporter, he explained: "I don't mind losing the record, just not on my mother's birthday."

Kelp was loyal that way. And, his mother and his other couple of fans loved him back all the more. He would get to you. He got to me. I was lucky enough to be at the game in Arlington, Texas when he pitched a shutout against those bastards, the Royals. He looked buff and mighty on the mound that night. And who can forget, with just one more out to go, he produced a puppy from beneath his jersey and presented it to a young fan in the front row. He had the whole stadium bawling, including the Royal's clean-up hitter who proceeded to swing three times lamely, tears in eyes and lump in throat.

Kelp was a fierce competitor with that madman edge. Kelp once had a bat made out of rare and brittle type of balsa wood. The bat exploded upon contact with the baseball. The catcher left the game with 50 toothpicks in his face. Oh, the Cowhide Brand! That Kelpian Insanity! Kelp once told a reporter he would slide head first into third base because he always pictured it to be a naked young woman with her legs wide open. Which might not only explain all of the triples, but also the chatter of the little league kids: "Batter-batter-schwing!"

Sure, he was a silly madman, a baseball evil genius, and a bastard low-life drunk grounds-keeper licking life's spitball with his own tongue... but Kelp had no qualms about winning. He was a great near-champion. It is said by his teammates that Kelps' thirst for winning was mightier than his thirst for a Banana Daiquiri.

Kelp got his start in the minor leagues, as a regular caller to a local sports radio show. Kelp complained so much about the hometown team that the host of the show finally said to Kelp, "Sisu or tissu! Do you think you can do any better?" And so what started out to be the radio promotion dare of the decade, turned out to be start of an not-so-quite Hall of Fame career.

Some say, if Kelp had ever bothered to tie his shoelaces, he would have been bronzed and placed along side the Legends. But, regardless, he was the only player to ever stub a toe on homeplate and go on the 15-day disabled list, his baseball card is still worth well over $3.52, and he taught me that life is baseball and baseball is insane.

I know it is unpopular to be a "Cowhide" fan. After all, wasn't it Kelp that said, "They call the damn umpires umpires, because 'Dumb Fuck' is reserved for the fans." But, I've got a theory going that he considered himself the biggest fan of the past-time ever. Why else would he have spiked himself to death on that day today twenty years ago? Perhaps he just liked all things to do with corks, logically putting wine bottles and baseballs at the top of the list.

Here I am living amongst the "primitives" and adopting their ways. One of the really basic problems with this is that I am finding myself starting to like beer and their dumb jokes.