Predictions have no currency; they are non-fiction, radio-TV shock-jock stuff.
Huh? I mean.... huh? I think Peter means to say that predictions are flashy and an easy way to get attention, but lack substance. I say this because two of the four descriptions in this opening sentence (specifically, the last two) are consistent with this idea, which is also a reasonably true one.
But... "have no currency"? If he means that they are not current or prevalent, he is certainly wrong, as at this time of year predictions are flying around like unsubstantiated allegations in a Jose Canceco book (that one was for you, Peter). I guess he could mean that any particular prediction has no currency, in the sense that it will never become the prevalent prediction among all prognosticators; everyone will always have their own "hunch." Maybe. That's my hunch (it has no currency).
Far more baffling is "non-fiction." Isn't he disparaging predictions here? I have absolutely no idea, not even a guess, as to why he says predictions are non-fiction.
Joist would definitely quote the 2nd sentence, as it lacks proper parallel structure, but I'm bored with that parallel crap, I'm moving on to the 3rd sentence:
The Red Sox may be the favorites to win the World Series for the third time in
five years (the house postgame show Tuesday opened with "Red Sox Nation's dreams
of a 162-0 season are still alive"), but if anything happens to Josh Beckett or
Jason Varitek, they, as Dylan once said, ain't goin' nowhere.
First, I thought in those parenthesis he would verify that, indeed, they are the favorites. Instead, he quotes an overused joke. Being the guy that says "we're going 162-0!" after a win on opening day is like being the guy in a sauna that says "it's like a sauna in here!" Lame. More importantly here, do you really mean Beckett or Varitek? I understand Beckett, but... Varitek?? Varitek is still a decent player. He has a .788 OPS last year, which is pretty good for a catcher. But he threw out only 24% of runners last year (putting him in the bottom half of baseball), is on the downside of his career, and is on a team full of megastars. But I suppose I haven't factored in his contributions as "Captain." But can't he perform his Captain-ly duties from the bench? I mean, you strain your quads, and then you can't be Captain anymore?
Then Gammons puts on a sarcasm clinic. A clinic, I tell you:
Yeah, we all knew that Fausto Carmona would go from 1-10 to fourth in the Cy
Young balloting; that Dustin Pedroia would hit .182 in April and, with the heart
of a world champion, end up as the AL Rookie of the Year; that the top three
closers in terms of saves would be Joe Borowski, Jose Valverde and Francisco
Cordero; or that three players who started the season in the minors -- Ryan
Braun, Hunter Pence, Kyle Kendrick -- would all end up in the top five in the
National League Rookie of the Year balloting.
Yes, Fauto and Pedroia were surprises. The closers were less surprising, as Valverde and Cordero at least had been plenty good before last year. But how in the world is it surprising that the ROOKIE of the Year would start the year in the minors? You do not need to play a full season to qualify, and it's a contest specifically for players who were oh-so-recently in the minors (or, perhaps, in Japan). These were all very highly regarded prospects on the verge of a call-up. Of course, I would not go so far as to say their finishes were easy to predict, but they're not shocking, and they're certianly not shocking because they were in the minors on April 1.
Gammons then lists the contenders in each division, thankfully NOT listing them in pairs. It's acutally a reasonable list... dare I say, it has currency?
Then we finally arrive at his season-end predictions, which of course he himself has admitted are silly. But let's go back to that second sentence that I skipped:
One can spend six weeks roaming spring training and believe that the Braves
and Red Sox may well be the best teams in their leagues, but we all know
what happens if John Smoltz, Mike Hampton and Chipper Jones get hurt.
I skipped it also because it seemed a reasonable point; the Braves have some old, gimpy players -- especially on the pitching staff -- who are likely to get hurt and miss serious time. Heck, Mike Hampton is virtually guaranteed NOT to pitch (and, indeed, is already on the DL). But think about this: even with those old farts in the lineup, are the Braves even close to the "best team in their league"? Why? Their lineup is decent, but it's probably the THIRD-best lineup in the division, and their pitching could only kindly be described as mediocre, with the strong potential to be far worse than that. What about "roaming spring training" made Peter Gammons believe the Braves are so great? This would be the one interesting thing for Gammons to explain in this column. Fat chance.
But Gammons qualifies this surprising and unjustified assessment with the salient fact that the team is likely to experience some injuries. Fine. But then, still without explanation, he picks the Braves to play in the World Series. Just a total lack of currency. Slated to finish dead last in the league in "currency," Gammons is.
Then he has some other "prognostications," sneaking in a few more bizarre Gammonisms along the way:
Manny Ramirez, Red Sox. Just watch him run. The winter at Athletes' Performance
Center in Tempe, Ariz., changed him physically and mentally, and it doesn't hurt
to have David Ortiz in his tandem.
Yes, Gammons is, as always, absurdly optimistic, Manny is old and will not really get healthier, et cetera. But David Ortiz is "in his tandem"? Is this an actual phrase? Do Manny and Papi ride around together in a tandem bicycle? That must be one strong-ass bike.
Alex Rodriguez, Yankees. Sulk, Jose, sulk. A-Rod's going to Cooperstown, and
you're going into a wax museum.
Gammons spent much of his offseason spewing venom at A-Rod, to an almost slanderous degree. Could it be that Gammons actually hates Canceco even more than that? I shudder to think such hatred exists in this world. And right here on one of our most treasured sports websites.
What he is is the best catcher in the game, the Dodgers' leader, and an intense
offensive machine who can hit .330 with a .900 OPS.
"What he is is"? Gammons, are you three?
3. Derek Lee, Cubs: Best lineup he's had to hit in.
Lee: Aww, coach, do I have to hit in that lineup? FINE. (pouts.)
1. Justin Verlander, Tigers. He may be in the running every year, but in 2008
13.7 runs of support per start may win 25 games.
13.7 runs?? Is that a joke? It actually might be; Gammons is humor-challenged, so it's hard to tell.
2. Josh Beckett, Red Sox. One man for one game.
I have no idea what he's talking about. Sounds momentous though.
2. Carlos Zambrano, Cubs. Freed from contract concerns, he can be a franchise
starter.
Don't you love how in Baseball Pundit Land, being in a contract year can make you play better (because you're motivated) or worse (because you're distracted) depending on, you know, what happens? I wonder if Gammons knows what "spurious" means...
3. Johan Santana, Mets. Dealing with expectations easier with Pedro Martinez at
his side.
This is just so severe and infantile a grammatical error that I will not bother pointing it out explicitly. It's beneath this (stupid) blog (that nobody reads). I will leave it to you, (imaginary) reader who is older than three, to figure it out.
3. Delmon Young, Twins. The plate discipline will come because he wants to be
great.
I want to be great. Where's mine?
Then, after NOT including James Loney on the list of breakouts because "he broke out last season":
9. Corey Hart, Brewers. As if an .892 OPS, 24 homers, 23 steals and 66
extra-base hits didn't constitute a breakout.
As if an .892 OPS, 24... oh. Um, exactly. Isn't it nice when Gammons fisks himself?
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