I Feel Bad About My Varitek

Thoughts after a sleepless night tossing and turning about the Red Sox loss…

Anybody unlucky enough to engage me in a conversation about sports (particularly baseball, specifically the Sawx) will eventually hear me go on about the Sports Fan’s Paradox, also known (via Seinfeld) as Rooting for the Laundry. Viz: we become fans of a team, and become emotionally invested in the fortunes of (at least in major league pro sports) millionaires who just happen, usually through no fault or volition of their own, to wear the uniforms of Our Team.  The “now we are at war with Eastasia” randomness of loving a player in your laundry, hating the player when he wears somebody else’s (see Damon, Johnny) is bad enough, but it gets even weirder when you find yourself, sane rational person that you fancy yourself to be, becoming emotionally invested in the personality and character of somebody who a) has no real relationship to you, except you help pay his salary via  tickets/beer/hotdog/sitting through TV and radio ads, and b) — and here’s the thing that drives me crazy — may be, apart and aside from his ability to throw/hit/run/pitch, be a cheat, an adulterer, a jerk, or all three.

Further!  There is an entire sub-industry of PR folk, in-house media, advertising, and compliant sports journalists, who conspire to prevent you from finding out what these people are really like, because it is in their financial and professional interest to do so, and still and still and still, you root for them and cheer for them and invest them with your affection and enthusiasm and hopes, or at least, I do.

Which brings me to Jason Varitek. For ten years now, he has been the starting catcher for the Boston Red Sox, his only MLB team, and with them he has won two World Series, caught four no hitters (a record) won a Gold Glove, and been named one of only four players in the team’s long history to be named Captain. Other players, especially pitchers, seem to love him, praising his leadership to the skies.  He does lots of charity events, is accessible to the media, and always carries himself well on the field. In an interview, once, he was asked something about him that was surprising, and he said, “If you were my neighbor, I’d loan you my square shovel. ” I loved that. Not just his shovel. His square shovel.  Last year, right after the Sox won their second World Series in three years, Varitek sat out in his driveway, in a lawnchair, all night on Halloween, and signed autographs for trick or treaters.

This was the last year of his four year contract, and it was a terrible year for him offensively. He hit .220, and went 0 for a lot in the two championship series he played. He hit a go-ahead homer in Game 6, yay, but flailed pointlessly in Game 7, going hitless, leaving men on base. And so I feel bad for him. Major League teams tend not to sign 37 year old catchers, particularly once they go into an offensive slump. His career might be over; his career with the Red Sox as a player probably is, and it ended poorly. Also, he got divorced this year.

On the other hand, he’s a surpremely gifted and successful professional athlete, who’s been among the elite since childhood, and lived a rarefied life of success and wealth that I can only dream about. Whatever happens to him, he will be wealthy beyond measure, and will have every opportunity he wants to succeed in whatever other endeavor he chooses, because that’s how we treat people like him.  And, for all I know, despite the square shovel, he might be a complete jerk. If he was, nobody would go out of their way to tell us.

But there I was, wide awake when I knew I should be getting some rest, wondering and worrying about how he felt, replaying his last at-bats, thinking about what kind of contract he might get offered. Am I right to feel bad for him? Or should he feel bad for me?

21 Responses to “I Feel Bad About My Varitek”

  1. morninglight mama Says:

    You know, I am no sports person, by any measure, but I am a parent of an 8 year old, who will undoubtedly turn into a full-fledged sports guy, just like his dad. So, at this point, all I care about is that he can look up to professional athletes that are actual upstanding people. That is no small feat.

    And, I guess it’s more comforting to lose sleep thinking about a well-to-do athlete’s emotional state, instead of… oh, I don’t know… thinking about the second-coming of a financial depression… I’m just saying.

  2. David J. Loehr Says:

    It’s all relative. I think it’s all right to feel bad for him or worry about him in terms of the life and career he has now versus what it may become. If I thought about it in the context of my own life, I would be–and often am–stunned at the outrageous salaries some folks get and wonder why they don’t give back more, why they don’t seem aware of how blessed or talented they may be–or the limits of those talents and blessings. (Hello, Barry.)

    But it’s not so different from worrying about, say, the cast and crew of “Arrested Development” when it was in danger of cancellation. (Which is to say, every day it was in production.) We like to be entertained, we like to think we know these people who entertain us, we feel some kind of connection to them even without the impersonal online touch of Facebook, MySpace/YourSpace, Twitter or the blogosphere, and that’s all right. They are, on some level, our friends, our comfort, and we worry about them the way we hope they’d worry about us if the situation were reversed.

    With baseball, it’s even more pronounced. We can collect players like Pokemon, these little faces on cards with statistics and frozen poses. (Okay, we collect Pokemon like baseball cards, I know, I’m just saying.) (And no, I don’t collect Pokemon. Bite your tongue.) They are a commodity, or an avatar in a video game. We become them through role-playing and identify with them perhaps far more than a method actor sinking into a role, mainly because we’re not in a finite production. (Unless you want to go all absurd and say the world is but a stage…wait a minute…) In doing so, we stay in touch with our inner child, which is helped along when you have actual children dragging you into the game. “Who’s your favorite Red Sock?” my six yr old asks. “Mine’s Derek Jeter.” (Don’t mind him, he’s six.) My own answer, which pleases him? Joe Shlabotnik.

    All of which reminds me, give my best to Carl. I haven’t seen him in, well, ever. I really need to add him in Facebook…

  3. Tim F. Says:

    I guess your angst is all predicated on what you really asked us. Is “Tek” a jerk, or not. I thinks it’s OK to feel bad about your team and if Jason isn’t really a jerk, it’s OK to feel bad for him too.

    Full disclosure: I am a Yankees fan (I grew up that way) and in my work I have some limited contact with professional athletes in the NY area. Some of them are really big jerks and some have been civil. Derek Jeter comes to mind in so much as he will say hello and look you in the eye, while others will pretend you’re not in the room.

    My guess is Varitek, DAMN HIM!, isn’t a jerk.

  4. Jen Says:

    Like momma always says - everyone’s fighting some kind of battle, so give them some f’in empathy! Even the jerks. But especially those wielding square shovels.

  5. Horse N. Buggy Says:

    You lose sleep worrying about an athlete who seems to be a nice guy. We listen to/podcast “Wait, Wait” then read and comment on the blog of a guy we’ve never met and probably never will. It’s all relative. Frankly, I don’t think your audience is going to tell you that this behavior is odd. You’d have to go to “regular” people for honest feedback.

    I don’t mean to imply that the people reading your blog are freaks. I just mean that we don’t let the fact that we don’t know someone keep us from trying to figure out what kind of person he is. Maybe by “regular” I just mean “offline” people. :-)

  6. Kathy A. Says:

    Die hard Cubs fan here, which probably says a lot about my mental stability and judgment. ;-)

    Here I thought I was the only one who sometimes worried about how ballplayers do personally, especially the one who seem like nice guys. While the salaries are astronomical, professional ball has to be a hard life, not only for the player but also for their family. Travel, constant training, insecurity (not only about being traded or benched, but an injury could end your career and change your life in a second). All so we can have a couple of hours of enjoyment (or anguish) watching them.

    I have no sympathy for the jerks, but I always hope the nice ones really are as nice as they seem and that they are really enjoying the life they chose. (But then, I tend to hope that about everyone).

  7. septer Says:

    H&B,

    you are so right! :-) All of us commenting here feel about Peter as Peter feels about Jason!

  8. Sue Karr Says:

    and, of course, in addition to the many other blessings of his existence, Jason and four of his teammates were made over by the Fab Five!!! (That’ll either put your mind at rest or detroy your sleep completely)

  9. JP Says:

    In a sense their private lives don’t matter. If you think, as I do, that professional sports is significant only as a metaphor for our lives, what difference does it make what the players do off the field? When you think about it, the team scoring the most runs in a baseball game is among the most trivial things on earth. Who cares? Well, most of us end up caring, because we see our struggles in their struggles, our joys and sorrows in theirs, etc. And it doesn’t hurt that they are good entertainment…running and jumping and so forth.

    I remember not being able to sleep the night the Diamondbacks scored 2 in the ninth off Rivera to win the 2001 WS. I also remember thinking “I clearly have not evolved beyond age 9, emotionally.”

    Varitek is a great player. So well-liked by his peers. He fulfills the necessary Light Side/Dark Side balance in baseball catchers, Yankees v. Red Sox…first we had Munson/Fisk, and Fisk was probably better, and now we have Posada/Varitek, and Posada is probably better. In both cases very similar players, very comparable ability, playing important roles on generally winning teams.

  10. JP Says:

    Oh and I forgot the irony that both Posada and Varitek are switch hitters.

    More musings…the Red Sox got Varitek and Derek Lowe from Seattle for Heath Slocumb. Not exactly the Seattle GM’s shining moment of baseball savvy right there.

    Just checked baseball reference dot com…..Posada is definitely better (sorry Peter). Offensively, anyway, it isn’t close. Career OPS+ for Posada is 124 (100 is league average, by definition). Varitek? 100.

    I have no doubt Varitek is the better defensive catcher, but not by too much, and the offensive value difference dwarfs the defensive one.

    But Varitek is better at picking fights with A-Rod, especially when he keeps his catchers mask on (sorry again….).

  11. Ryan Says:

    I’m not ruling out Varitek coming back to the Saux.

    Seriously, do what the Tigers did with Pudge this year. Keep him, see how he and the team are doing come July and August, then make the move accordingly.

    Oops, thought I was talking to the GM there for a sec.

  12. JP Says:

    Ryan–I think in Pudge’s case, he was a) under contract, b) still an elite defensive catcher, and c) not an offensive zero, although close to it in the post-steroids era. Varitek is a) NOT under contract, b) a good but not great defensive catcher (probably no better than Cash), and c) less than zero offensively right now.

    One interesting thing about the Yankees/Red Sox situation now is that the roles are reversed. Well, I guess that’s obvious; the Yankees won for 85 years, and now the Red Sox have taken over for the last 4. But the WAY they are doing things has also reversed. The Yankees have a shortstop who, while still a very good player, is a lousy defensive shortstop, and is in the slow decline phase of his career offensively. Yet the Yankees’ organization extends some sort of loyalty and political ‘clout’ to him, and he remains at SS, a defensive liability. Jeter should have been moved to CF or LF 2 years ago. Posada? Same thing. An institution on the team. He probably will never be able to throw effectively again, but the Yankees will probably have him catching next season.

    In the old days, the Yankees followed Branch Rickey’s axiom that it’s better to get rid of a player a year early than a year late. Now, between the Yankeeography-fueled, baseball lore, hero worship crap that goes on and the longterm contracts, the Yankees are stuck with players that, while good, productive players, are all in the decline phase of their careers. Not a recipe for winning championships. You need a few veterans, but you win by having players who come up with surprisingly GOOD seasons, which pushes you over the top. The chance that Abreu, A-Rod, Jeter, et al will surprise us with a career year that pushes the Yankees over the top grows slimmer and slimmer each year.

    The Red Sox, on the other hand, now do things the right way. Think of all the players who were at the plateau phase of their careers, perhaps on the precipice of decline, who were dumped. Favorites like Nixon, Lowe, Pedro, even Manny. You can’t guarantee winning every year, but you give yourself the best chance when you stay nimble and move older players along their way.

    In the Tom Yawkey era, the rap on the Red Sox was that the old man was too sentimental, cared about players as people too much. Cared about “Red Sox pride” too much, and didn’t do the tough things necessary to win. Epstein does it now, though.

    For the offense he’s likely to provide next year and considering what they’d have to pay him for a one year deal, I’m guessing there is just no way Varitek comes back. Maybe he’s so important to that team, as a Captain, etc., that I will be proven wrong and they will sign him. But I don’t think so. Look for some team with a young pitching staff to pick him up.

  13. Anna Says:

    It’s always a comfort to find others just as irrational as oneself.

    I too take special pleasure in knowing Tek would loan me his square shovel. (I only own a round one, you see.) I read the quotes from other players, forever waxing eloquent on their respect for their captain and all he means to them, his work ethic and selflessness, leadership and game prep, and I love knowing someone like that plays for /my/ team. Never mind that I’ve never met these guys. Never mind that I never will. I can’t help caring, wondering, and worrying.

    When Tek homered in game six, I felt like my own brother had. When he ended his last at bat with a strike out, I ached for him.

    Yes, I often think my life as a baseball fan would be infinitely simpler if I could just forget that the players are people, but I don’t see that happening soon.

    In fact, though, I’m keeping my hopes high that Varitek will be back in Boston. Not because of the whole ‘team captain’ thing and the leadership angle — though that’s surly a factor, however large or small — but because the team and especially the pitchers are not ready to loose him. To dispute JP here, Tek is a far, far better defensive catcher than Cash, and frankly better than most other catchers in the American League. His catcher’s ERA is the lowest in the league, a huge asset to the team. He tied Mauer for fewest passed balls, had second fewest errors, second highest fielding percentage, and highest range factor. He’s astonishingly good at blocking the plate, and as every pitcher on the staff will tell you, calls a game like no one else. They’ve come to rely on that, too. I keep remembering what happened when Varitek was injured in ‘06 and the team ERA instantly swelled. For the defense and game calling the Sox get from Tek, I’d hardly care if he couldn’t get his swing back.

    Because I’m also dumbly optimistic, though, I keep right on hoping that we’ll see Varitek’s offense recover. Those three homers in a row, back in August, showed some promise. The man’s not dead yet. And even having hit almost nothing since June (his average was .295 in late May), he still managed double digit home runs. He still passed Fisk on the all time list for Sox catchers (first tying the record with a homer off the Fisk pole — I /loved/ that). He still hit the home run that gave us the win in Game 6. In the batter’s box, this year was the pits for him. But he is not dead.

    So, there it is. I’m anxious over the fate of a person I do not know and will never know, who earned my loyalty and respect on the testimony of more men I do not know. And that fact changes nothing. I’m rooting for Varitek. And as surely as if I knew him, I wish him well.

  14. JP Says:

    Anna: Don’t take this the wrong way, but I want to argue a little about Varitek and evaluation of catchers. I’m a baseball dweeb, and I promise I admire Varitek and don’t hate him, or you…but some of what you say, well, the dweeb in me just can’t let pass…

    While I don’t wish to douse the flames of Varitek worship too harshly, catcher’s ERA is a meaningless statistic in terms of evaluating defensive ability as a catcher. It’s a reflection of the fact that he catches the best - or close to the best - pitching staff in the league. Bill James has concluded that the statistic is marginal in terms of its meaning. Passed balls also reflect the pitching staff almost as much as the catcher…fielding percentage and range factor, again, often reflect the nature of pitching staff, whether they are a ground ball or flyball-type staff, etc. Put outs are part of range factor, and every strikeout credits the catcher with the putout. Since putouts dwarf assists for catchers, catchers’ range factor is largely a reflection of strikeouts, which of course reflect pitching skill about 99%. Calling a game? Can’t dispute that one, but it’s a very difficult thing to really evaluate, much less quantitate. It is among baseball’s most oft-repeated cliches, when you have a successful pitching staff, they heap praise on the catcher’s “leadership” and game calling ability. Pudge Rodriguez for years was the undisputed champ in this fantom skill, getting credit for the great pitching staff of the Florida Marlins in 2003, and the Tigers in 2006. So what happened this season, when the Tigers stunk? Did Pudge forget how to lead and call games?

    And even if all of those defensive advantages were truly reflections on ‘Tek’s ability, the value of defense at catcher is relatively small, accounting for maybe a few runs a season, a fraction of a fraction of how much offense matters.

    Graig Nettles, the old Yankee third basemen, and one of the toughest, best prepared ball players the Yankees ever had, paid a great compliment to Varitek, claiming he was a REAL ballplayer.

    Varitek is 100% ballplayer, 0% bullsh!t. But he’s no good anymore, and for what he’d cost, it would hurt the Red Sox to keep him. Maybe if he were to convert to DH/1b and rest his legs, he might feel better and hit a little better, but his kind of offense, even at his career best, is a bit below what most teams want from a 1b/DH. And the Red Sox already have some pretty decent guys at those positions.

  15. JP Says:

    …although you know, Anna, alot depends on what’s in the market. If there are NO catchers out there available, and at somewhat of a value price, Varitek might be back on a 1 year deal. I don’t know if Epstein and Francona believe Cash is ready and capable to become a full time regular. So you may get your wish….if it turns out there are no better fish in the sea.

  16. Anna Says:

    Non-baseball fans, go ahead and scroll down. This is all catcher talk.

    JP: Fair enough, catcher’s stats reflect their pitching staff. They do indeed, and I’d never deny as much. But they do also reflect the catcher. Hence, there are differences between passed balls and wild pitches. (Sometimes the call is almost a toss-up, but if a pitch that gets by is ruled a passed ball, that’s pretty much a declaration that the catcher should have had it; that is, he’s at fault.) Strikeouts? Yes, the pitcher is obviously by far the biggest part of that, but I’d argue that’s one place where game-calling starts to show up numerically. Remember hearing Schilling talk about shaking off Varitek when he allowed the one hit of his near no-hitter? Schilling was sure the guy was taking, and Varitek was sure the guy was swinging. The guy was swinging. Oops. A good pitcher is going to get strikeouts whomever he throws to, but knowing what pitch to throw to get the whiff is part of the equation.

    Catcher’s ERA: hard to compare if no one else has ever caught the same pitchers, yes. But you can take Wakefield out of the equation and figure team ERA throwing to Cash. It’s 5.47. Same pitchers, throwing to Tek: ERA of 3.67. I call that significant. And again, team ERA went up dramatically when Varitek was out of the picture in ‘06. It proves nothing, but it suggests an awful lot. You don’t mention errors, but I suggest again that having second fewest in the league (third fewest in baseball) is a sign of the kind of consistent and reliable backstop you want to have.

    I suppose the main point where I disagree with you, JP, is the importance of a good defensive catcher. That one position is involved in every pitch of every game, and I hold firmly with the school that says it’s the one position where defense does decisively outweigh offense. On a team with a young pitching staff, even moreso.

    Yes, Varitek /is/ “100% ballplayer,” and that’s why I’ll respect him long after he can no longer play the game. But for the time being, I’m convinced he still can, and well. We shall see!

  17. JP Says:

    Anna you are ‘the WOMAN!’

    What can I say…good points, all of them. Don’t know how to explain the difference in catchers era between Varitek and Cash, but I’ll warn you not to look too closely at this stat. When the Yankee pitchers - some of them - seemed to be doing better this season with Jose Molina, I asked a friend of mine (a baseball writer who once edited the MacMillan encyclopedia and could out stat and out geek you and I using his pinkie toe only) about this. He said that studies of catchers ERA generally show, in fact pretty reliably, that backup catchers almost always have better ERAs than the regulars.

    This could be interpreted 2 ways, vis a vis your Varitek comments: 1) Varitek is so unGodly good that he is able to reverse this trend, or 2) the instances you quote (Cash this season, ‘Tek’s injury period in ‘06) are small samples and just red herrings.

    With respect, I am about 99% sure it’s the latter. Come on, now. Varitek is a very good catcher. He may be one of the top catchers in the league. Ok, I’ll go along with you and say he is one of the top 3 in the league over the last 10 years. But is he really so incredibly good that he could reverse a statistic that applies to catchers who, speaking as pro-Varitek and conservative as is possible within the bounds of reason, are certainly very close to him, defensively?

    No way.

    The Schilling anecdote is a good one. But it’s just an anecdote. How many no-no’s might Varitek have blown? We don’t really know, it’s impossible to know…we can’t replay all of his games with, say, Pudge or Mauer or Lieberthal or Posada catching.

    But we can surely drink to the fact (and I’m being a real sport here Anna, since I’m a Yankee fan, so you better give me props…) that Varitek is a great ballplayer. His days with Boston may be over. But he’s not forgotten, and if he should land in another city, I’m sure his team there will be the better for it. Heck, he may even surprise us with another great, 102 OPS+ season (sorry…can’t supress the snarky Yankee fan totally…).

  18. Anna Says:

    And you, sir, are a gentleman, even if you _are_ a Yankee fan. It’s always a pleasure debating my fellow “baseball dweebs.”

    Interesting point about the no-hitters. How many might Varitek have blown on bad calls? No telling. How many might he have called had the pitchers not blown them? No telling. But he did catch four no-hitters, something no other catcher in history has accomplished. Lester shook him off very little, Buchholz did it not at all. Derek Lowe said just this month that he went, “years, not starts, in Boston,” without shaking off Tek. Once more, it proves nothing, but there’s got to be something real about Varitek’s style that is effective, and that these pitchers identify and trust. They certainly all claim there’s something there!

    One last point, to interpret as you like regarding Tek’s ability with the pitching staff (this from a recent column by Bill Ballou in the Worcester Telegram): in the years Varitek has been with the Red Sox, they are “705-467 (.602) in games Varitek starts at catcher and 255-302 (.458) when somebody other than Varitek is the catcher.” How much does that mean? I don’t know. As Ballou points out, at least some of that relates to having Wakefield-only catchers in recent years. But Wake does not lose nearly enough games to account for that split, and the sample is eleven years long.

    And now a question for you, since you haven’t much liked the stats I’ve brought in: are there defensive stats you _do_ think important for catchers? Caught stealing percentage? (That’s even more reliant on the pitcher in question than the stats you challenged, so I assume not.) You also wrote that Tek was probably no better than Cash defensively. Where do you get that one? Just curious here. I’ve seen plenty of both catchers, and can’t figure it.

    In any case, JP, I absolutely give you full credit for managing those kind words for the Red Sox captain. I can only imagine what that must have cost you, emotionally. (The snarky remark was, after all, just your duty to your own; had the topic been A-Rod, I could never have been so restrained. Well done, sir.)

  19. JP Says:

    I have to say I have no original ideas whatsoever on how to evaluate the defensive value of catchers. I like stolen base percentage because it’s quantifiable, but again it is subject to bias from the ability of the pitchers to hold the runners on. Still, stolen base percentage is probably MORE dependent on the catcher’s ability than the pitcher’s, so I put some stock in it.

    I don’t know if you’ve read Bill James’ “Win Shares.” As a baseball dweeb I found it only slightly less exciting - and accessible - as my college differential equations text. So I’m sure you’ll enjoy it as much as I do. But the gist of it is that hitting and pitching combined account for the vast, vast majority of runs in baseball. The contribution of good defense, at any position, is dwarfed by hitting and pitching.

    This is tough for baseball fans, particularly those of our ilk, to accept, because we like to admire defense. Maybe our kids, or ‘casual’ fans are enthralled by the homerun. Not us. No; _we_ know what’s really special, we see things others don’t, we can appreciate the nuances that average, boorish baseball fans just can’t comprehend.

    So, baseball afficionados tend to, I am sure, overrate the importance of defense.

    My best guess - and it’s only a guess - is that the greatest catcher in history might make a difference of 5 or so runs per season to his team, attributable directly to his defensive value, over and above that of an “ordinary” catcher.

    I actually don’t have anything to back up the statement about Cash being as good as Varitek defensively. Maybe he isn’t. But I don’t happen to think, from my observations, that Varitek is actually a great defensive catcher. I defer to people such as you who watch him more that he certainly could be; I wouldn’t argue the point. But my personal experience is he’s an average catcher. He gets points for the fu-man-chu and the steely eyed, tough guy stare, maybe. (Although the batting stance is a little swishy if you ask me…).

    And if he’s so good at blocking the plate, etc., why can’t he catch Wakefield? Seriously–if you are one of the best catchers in the league, nimble (range factor), good hands (few errors and passed balls), and are absolutely the best at blocking the plate, why wouldn’t you be a good knuckleball catcher? You need a ‘personality’ to catch a knuckleball? I thought ‘Tek had the best, most perfect personality to be a catcher?

    Again, just so you don’t go away with the wrong impression–he’s a great ballplayer. I am sure I rank him lower than you would, but we agree more than we disagree.

  20. Anna Says:

    Well, I can’t answer the knuckleball question. I’ve never been a catcher — I played a very mediocre second base as a kid. I have never tried to catch a knuckleball, or even met someone who could throw one. I do know that catching those things is no easy task, that even knuckleball specialists find it hard, and that Tek is not the only skilled catcher to see that pitch get the better of him!

    I loved an interview I read a few years back with Tek and Carlton Fisk talking about their experiences; they joked about how neither one had ever been able to catch a knuckleballer.

    Ever seen some of the fantastic quotes on the topic from frustrated catchers? Among my favorites, Varitek once answered a kid who asked if it was true he couldn’t catch a knuckleball: “Well, I’d say that Wake has thrown over 3,000 knuckleballs and I know I’ve caught at least one of ‘em.” Also, from your own deeply-missed Joe Torre: “You don’t catch the knuckleball, you defend against it.” And from Bob Ueker, my favorite of the lot: “The way to catch a knuckleball is to wait until it stops rolling and then pick it up.”

    Love that stuff.

    (From what I’ve heard of players and coaches speaking on the subject, my understanding has been that catching a knuckleball successfully is almost a separate skill set from ordinary catching, hence the specialist catchers who focus on the mechanics of that one problem, use larger mitts, and still wind up with absurd numbers of passed balls).

    Anyway, I’m content to disagree about how good Tek is (or isn’t). I call him valuable to the team, a huge defensive asset besides the whole “captain” thing, leadership, etc. And alas, if I do over-value defense, I’m bound to carry right on doing it. You’re dead right: I shudder at the idea of letting flashy homeruns get all the glory! I’ve seen too many games where a great defensive play, or a botched one, changed a game’s entire momentum. I love those plays as well as grand slams. (I’m a real sucker for a good diving stop, myself, and as such became a Pedroia devotee early on; that man does not know how _not_ to dive after a ball.)

    As for Varitek’s contract, I don’t pretend to know what decision he and the Boston front office will reach. But if Boras starts getting in the way of things, may Tek give him the same treatment A-Rod got. I want this guy sticking around.

    I’ve enjoyed this thoroughly, JP.

    (NPR nerds and baseball nerds all in one place… Life is so very good!)

  21. JP Says:

    It’s become fashionable in recent years among ‘enlightened’ baseball writers like Rob Neyer and Bill James to debunk baseball “myths.” I agree with this sort of thinking 95% of the time. Among the myths debunked include “you win with pitching and defense.” Well, yeah, as long as you have enough hitting (and the fielding part is not reeeeeally crucial…). Other myths are that RBIs are an indicator of ‘clutch hitting,’ while they are actually more a function of opportunity for the hitter…there are others.

    Anyway, along these lines, it’s become fashionable to pooh-pooh ‘clubhouse leaders’ and ‘winners’ as silly, hero worship stuff. I asked my uber-geek friend about A-Rod, and whether he thought he was “worth it” for the Yankees to have, given his high salary and all the trouble hitting in the clutch. His answer? “Well, he produces more runs than just about anyone in baseball, every season. He’s no Scott Brosius, but I’m thinking he helps the team.” The Brosius comment was a sarcastic stab at the hero worship Brosius got when he was on the Yankees, as being some sort of clutch hitting, clubhouse Ghandi who catalyzed winning, to contrast with A-Rod as the poison, the cancer in the clubhouse, the “anti-Ruth.” His point was, that’s all BS, you need the guys who actually produce, on the field.

    I have no big argument with this. As great a guy as Brosius was, if you had 8 of him on your team, you’d probably finish in last place every year; 8 A-Rods and you’d win 130 games every season.

    But it doesn’t mean there isn’t ANY value to the intangibles. Almost everyone has had a co-worker or fellow student in school who just seemed to make things better for everyone. Maybe it’s someone with infectious cheerfulness, or a great sense of humor, or someone who just helps everyone else out. And then there are people who are extremely effective and competent workers, yet they seem to put everyone else off, etc.

    I suspect Varitek is the type of guy who makes things better for everyone else around him. He probably picks up people who are dragging, and probably brings the bipolars back to earth. He probably calms down neurotics, and scares lazy people into working harder. He probably isn’t afraid of failing, or looking stupid, and probably doesn’t care about his statistics. He probably LOVES playing baseball, and could care less about being a baseball ’star.’

    Anyway–agree also, Anna, that this has been great.

    GO RAYS!!

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