Lesser Charges

I've been on the email list of Eugene Lesser for several years. Eugene is a wonderful, funny, emotional writer who likes to speak his mind about sports (mostly local) and politics (mostly national) and whatever the hell else is on his mind. He reminds me of...well, that would be me.

Last week Eugene circulated his thinking about Jason Schmidt's injury. I think he's on the same track as Larry relating to the causes, but I really liked his commentary and asked if I could repost it here.

I'm going to help Eugene set up a blog soon so his stuff can be available to all. In the meantime, anyone interested in getting on his email list, which I recommend, can email him at sportsbirthdays@sbcglobal.net.

Lesser Charges
May 10, 2005

I’m reading about a classic game played yesterday, Santa Clara beating USF, 2-1, on a two-out, two-run homer in the bottom of the ninth inning. It was only the fifth game ever played at Santa Clara’s spanking new Steve Schott stadium. Bit of an ego trip by Steve but hey.

A counter balance to ego, however, was provided by the game’s hero, one Eric Newton, who said he was sitting on a fastball, got one from USF pitcher Scott Cousins, and hit it over the left field wall. Interviewed after the dramatic finish, Newton, setting a modern record for humility, said, “It just happened to be me.” Now that’s a team player. Cousins, who was one pitch away from a complete game, a shutout and a win, instead took the heartbreaking loss. He started the ninth with a 1-0 lead (the Dons scored a cheap run early in the game that looked like it was going to hold up) and got the leadoff batter to fly out. It was the first ball Santa Clara had hit out of the infield. Then, when any base runner represented a major threat, Cousins walked the next batter. That’s when we unfurl the big red flag.

Let’s freeze the action for a pitch count. According to my highly accurate pitch-count-o-meter, when Newton stepped into the box to face Cousins, I estimate that Cousins had thrown a minimum of 135 pitches. I accounted for outs (26), strikeouts (10) and hits (5) but only the one walk in the ninth inning because there was no further information about the game. If Cousins had walked, say, three batters, which is very good for nine innings (actually 8 2/3), it would add 15 pitches to the 138, raising the pitch-count from high to unconscionable.

When Cousins walked that guy in the ninth he definitely had to leave—to a standing ovation, I would think. He had thrown a gem. That he couldn’t quite finish it is no deal at all. It gives the closer a chance to come in and participate in this great win. Remember, this is not professional ball; participation is important. But coach Nino Giarratano was determined to ride the back of his ace like it was Game Seven in the World Series and all the money was on the table and Cousins had the whole off-season to rehab whatever arm problems he might pick up from overthrowing.

But it ain’t professional ball, where it’s understood that no one gives a shit about your arm. It’s college ball, where most of the players are hoping for a future in baseball. After the game, Giarratano said, “You can’t walk guys in the ninth inning or bad things will happen to you. And they did.” He neglected to add that they did because he blew the one and only move he had to make during the whole game. 90% of a manager’s job is to make pitching changes. (Making out the lineup is 8.5% of the job and calling bunt, steal, etc is the remaining 1.5%., if you really must know.) If you can’t take your starting pitcher, who has thrown a lot of pitches, out of a 1-0 game in the ninth inning after he walks somebody, well, you won’t be on my short list of managerial candidates for the new expansion team I’ve recently purchased.

I’m certain that Giarratano has a theory that throwing a lot of pitches doesn’t mean much, that it’s all about how the guy is throwing or how often he throws or what kind of arm he has, you know, genetically, or several other mitigating factors. There’s a great chasm on this debate. Actually, there is no debate on this subject, which I’m trying to rectify here. Giarratano managed poorly not because he let Cousins throw a lot of pitches (though that was bad), but because he couldn’t see what was happening in front of him. He didn’t understand that Cousins’ walking that batter showed that he had lost his stuff, was tired, whatever, and was no longer effective enough at such a critical point in the game. A fresh arm was called for and, because USF is one of the elite college baseball teams on the west coast, I’m sure they had several talented arms in their pen. Newton was hitless in three previous trips to the plate, including two strikeouts. But, see, in the ninth inning he saw that same once-dominant pitcher for the fourth time.

The quotable Giarratano also said after the game, “…We’ve got to be able to close those games out if we want to win a championship.” Sounds like the manager is blaming the starting pitcher? If so, he’d be the first to admit it in public. But what else could he mean by that statement? What else, short of bringing in a relief pitcher, could have happened to prevent “closing” that game? Answer: Nothing! Before the pitch, USF was ahead. After that pitch, USF was behind and the game was over. So yeah, he’s blaming his starting pitcher for giving up the home run, for not going all the way, for not “closing” the game. You know, like a reliever, except that he’s a starter.

So here’s a coach who made a horrible decision to leave in his fading starter, then blames the starter for losing the game. That’s what pisses me off more than the pitch count. Giarratano is not unusual; little leagues are riddled with them. Is there still any question as to why so many arms burn out before they even reach the majors or shortly after, or why there is an alarming dearth of outstanding big league pitchers?

Again, it took one of the ballplayers to rise to the occasion by showing great character. After the game, Cousins said, “We have to come out of here with our heads high. Just one mistake by me cost us the game.” There was only one mistake in that game, and it was made by the manager. Cousins taking the fall for the coach is poignant. He and Eric Newton make me realize that it’s young people who are going to have to show the way. Capitalism, the big deal about winning, about having a big dick, a big car, about having more money, better stuff, better-looking girlfriends hasn’t quite corrupted everyone and everything. Not yet.

As though to prove my thesis that no one in professional ball gives a shit about your arm (although every single person in professional ball would say that they do!), when Jason Schmidt (now on the DL) threw 131 pitches on April 26th, no one blinked. C’mon Felipe, that sucked. As in politics, the local yokel thinks those in charge know more than he does. Wrong! I, Johnny Layman, know for instance that you don’t let your pitcher, let alone your ace, your one and only trump card, throw 131 pitches in April. If you violate this law, “bad things will happen to you.” In re: Jason Schmidt and his "dead arm," bad things are happening to the Giants right now so perhaps it’s time to re-assess some old canards about what’s good for arms and what bad for arms, and for once try to err on the side of caution. Blockheads!

The Nick Giarratano Method is the prevailing orthodoxy, but signs of heresy are always popping up. On the very same day as the USF fiasco, the Cleveland Indians manager (I don’t feel like looking it up, okay?) took Kevin Millwood out after eight full innings, a 3-0 lead and 99 pitches. That’s pretty cool. Hadn’t even given up a single walk. Bobby Cox did that routinely with Greg Maddux, even after seven innings, 75 pitches and a 2-0 lead. Terry Francona is similar and that’s about the only ones I can think of. It’s hard to say who the biggest culprits are--little league coaches, high school coaches or college coaches. Whether mad-dog types or nice guys, the damage they do is frightening.