Gammons Is Definitely "Trending Down"

Not much in this post from our friend Gammons, as it's filled mostly with charts. A couple of brief things, though.

If you are the Phillies or the Dodgers and thinking about going to four years on Mike Lowell, you look at the trend line and see that his OPS has risen each of the last three years. That's what the Yankees faced in the real world of the Mets going hard after Jorge Posada, and what the Diamondbacks realized when they went to $10M a year for Eric Byrnes.

Please focus on the part that reads, "That's what the Yankees faced in the real world of the Mets going hard after Jorge Posada." Is he saying that the Yankees paid a lot for Posada because the Mets were chasing him, or because he had this retarded "upward trend line"? Did the Mets only chase him because of this upward trend, which in turn caused the Yankees to pay more? I'm so confused. And what the hell does he mean by "real world"? If anything, the one team that appears to operating outside this metaphorical "real world" would be the Yankees, since their concept of spending money differs from that of literally every other team.

So Monday morning it appeared Lowell might leave Boston, because the Red Sox would not budge from their three-year offer, and take with him the World Series MVP award, a rising trend line, and mountains of goodwill from the way he plays and treats people.

I understand Gammons is speaking metaphorically here, but even then I can't understand what the hell he means when he says that Lowell is taking "a rising trend line and mountains of goodwill". He sounds like a senile sportswriter desperate for a new angle. "You have to sign Lowell! He has a rising trend line! And goodwill! Nay, mountains of goodwill! He wipes his ass with goodwill toilet paper!"

More importantly, there are different conclusions one can draw from this data, which he proceeds to present. Here are two:

1. A rising trend line indicates that a player is improving, and should be paid accordingly. (Obviously, a falling trend line would have the opposite effect.)
2. Teams should be extremely wary of players with rising trend lines, since these trend lines may reverse course due to the law of averages or the phenomenon of aging players. On the other hand, players with a falling trend line may rebound, and may be available at a discount, so it's a good idea for teams to pursue these players.

The real conclusion probably lies somewhere in the middle: with younger players, rising trends will tend to indicate actual improvement, while older players are more likely to have reaped the benefits of a fluke season, and will probably decline in future years. Gammons, of course, offers no such analysis, and instead lumps young guys and old guys together. Just look at the first two people in his first chart: Curtis Granderson and Barry Bonds. We should be drawing the same conclusions from their respective rising trend lines? Really?

Gammons, however, has no time for silly things like "analysis". He's busy copying charts from the Bill James Handbook and throwing mountains of goodwill at Mike Lowell.

Tune in tomorrow as I dissect a real doozy. Try to see how many indefensibly stupid and/or incoherent things he says, and then we'll see how well we match up.

Candidates, Don't Hire Jim Caple as Your Poll Analyst

Jim Caple has a characteristically dull article up on ESPN.com today, slamming the 60% of web readers who stated via an ESPN poll that they didn't want A-Rod on their team.

Now, before you read Caple's article, I'll give you three seconds to come up with the most obvious reason why the vast majority of these people voted this way.

One...

Two...

Three...

Ready? All together now: "Because my team would then not be able to afford any other good players, and you cannot win with one player." That was easy, right? Not for Jim Caple.

He starts by mocking the people who voted this way and talking about how baseball is the most individual sport and how it hasn't mattered how much of an ass various great players have been. Fine, I'm with him on that. And clearly a subset of those voters are morons who think they are more likely to win with David Eckstein at short than A-Rod, even if the rest of the team stays the same, because of Eckstein's grit and piss and vinegar and all that.

Eventually, he gets around to addressing the more obvious reason for the majority vote against having A-Rod, and gives us the following syllogism:

I understand people worrying that signing A-Rod would preclude their team from obtaining other necessary players. But that's a needless concern. Signing someone like A-Rod, Derek Jeter or Manny Ramirez to a contract for $20 million to $25 million per year isn't what hurts a team financially. It's signing the likes of Jeff Weaver for $8 million and Richie Sexson for $15 million, then trading for Horacio Ramirez and his $2 million salary (not that I have any particular team in mind).

Uhhhh.... CAN'T IT BE BOTH? Or, perhaps more accurately, either?

If you're a small-market team, EITHER spending big bucks on decent players OR huge bucks on great players can sink you. If the Mariners had spent their money more wisely, for a pitcher actually worth closer to $8 million or a first baseman worth closer to $15 million, or multiple players for less than that, they would be a far better team. But they would not have been able to spend this money at all if it was tied up in ONE player, A-Rod. And actually, the Mariners aren't such a bad team as it is. Not a great team, but not a bad one.

Given a choice, I would rather have A-Rod than Weaver plus Sexson. But both options are bad. The ESPN voters were not asked to assume that if their team would not sign A-Rod, it would waste the money on total flops. Why is Caple assuming this? I guess because, being a Seattle writer, he's focused on the Mariners. So focused in fact, that he misses a painfully obvious logical point.

*EDIT: I decided I was too hard on Caple. Yes, purely as an explanation of how people voted in the online poll, the article sidesteps the point. But his main purpose there was to debunk the widely and genuinely held opinions about A-Rod being a "cancer" and not a "winner," etc., making many of the same arguments that I've personally made to neurotic Yankees fans. So on a second reading, I identified with him, and was filled with tender feelings of regret. Okay, maybe that's going a little far...

Edit Buster Olney!

Although Buster Olney doesn't make as many indefensible writing mistakes as Peter Gammons does, far be it from us to overlook some colossally bad writing on his part. To wit:

Imagine that Alex Rodriguez was running for president against Hillary Clinton and John McCain and Barack Obama, and then ask yourself this: How much would they have paid for the negative publicity he got over the last 18 days?

Okay, Buster. And I'm using your name, not just using the little kid nickname "Buster". As ridiculous as your proposed scenario is, I imagined this scenario. I asked myself the question, and myself answered, "What are you talking about? Why would they pay anything for negative publicity?" And I said to myself, "Myself, haven't you ever heard the expression, 'No publicity is bad publicity?'" And myself responded, "Yes, but I'm pretty sure that does not apply to presidential candidates. When you're running for president, negative publicity pretty much destroys your campaign." And I got angry and tried to erase myself's mind, Men In Black-style, but I couldn't, because myself is a part of me. So I decided to post this entry instead.

Ten million dollars? Twenty? Fifty million?

Again, I'd probably go with nothing.

Because for 18 days Rodriguez got hammered by everyone, everywhere. By our respected colleague Peter Gammons, who wondered forcefully if this sort of gauche hubris explained why Rodriguez hadn't yet played in the World Series.

First, Buster, you forgot "inexplicably" when you mentioned "respected colleague Peter Gammons". Second, "wondered forcefully"? You can't wonder something forcefully. That sounds like something Peter Gammons would say. I would use the phrase "bitched excessively". There, much better. Finally, "gauche hubris"? I suspect that you consulted a thesaurus here, because "tactless balls" just doesn't sound right, but is "gauche hubris" really any better?

A-Rod got hammered by print columnists, by Mike and Mike, by Mike and the Mad Dog, by Michael Kay in New York and Mike Felger in Boston and the Mad Dog in Lansing and Softy in Seattle. A-Rod got hammered from sea to shining sea, after word of his decision to opt out of his record-setting contract leaked out in the middle of Game 4 of the World Series -- an act for which his agent Scott Boras first blamed on the Yankees; then blamed on a mistake; and then, probably cajoled by
his All-Star client, finally blamed on himself, acknowledging what everybody in
the game thought anyway.

Oh, how cute, there are a lot of radio personalities named "Mike" or "Mad Dog". Apparently, "Softy" is the closest that the West Coast has to offer to those names. Also, check out "an act for which his agent Scott Boras first blamed on the Yankees" - this is positively Gammons-like in its excessive use of prepositions. If we re-arrange this sentence, we get: "Scott Boras first blamed for this act on the Yankees." Also, although this list has correct parallel structure, I don't see how the three parties that were blamed could be "Yankees", "a mistake", and "himself". Which one of these is not like the other? (Hint: the "mistake" must have been made by somebody.)

He (Boras) somehow managed to badly overplay the perfect hand.

Wait...I'm confused, Buster. What does poker have anything to do with Scott Boras? Can you explain what you mean? In the next paragraph, perhaps?

Boras held four aces, in a sense, and yet his client's contract will be somewhat lighter.

And Buster comes through! Thanks to the phrase "in a sense", I now understand that the whole "perfect hand" thing was a metaphor. Groundbreaking stuff, those poker metaphors. Don't believe I've ever seen one of those before. It's good to know that Gammons is not the only "respected" writer for ESPN.com who can't write.

But Beckett Got a Ring, Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah

As expected, C. C. Sabathia won the Cy Young award over Josh Beckett yesterday by a substantial margin. Peter Gammons chimes in, repeating what he has already said numerous times in just the last few weeks, with the ultimate point, apparently, that winning a championship is more important (duh).

Gammons' title is "Ring is Next on C.C.'s List," so you might expect the article to tell C.C.'s story, extolling his accomplishments and discussing his future expectations and such. You would be wrong. It is written mostly from (the superior) Beckett's point of view.

While C. C. Sabathia earned the Cy Young, Josh Beckett earned his place alongside Johan Santana as the best pitcher in baseball.

Wait, how can two people be "the best pitcher" in baseball? It's amazing the nonsensical things you can say when you don't write proper English. This might actually be grammatically correct, since the subject of the sentence is technically still just Beckett, but substantively makes no sense. If he's "alongside" Santana, then does that not imply that they are together at the top? I guess Gammons just wants to say that Beckett is the best pitcher in baseball (ignoring his persistent blisters and struggles during much of his career with the Marlins and his first season with the Red Sox), but wants to cover himself by mentioning the more obviously correct choice, Santana. And he can do this, because he doesn't give a crap about making sense.

Now, Gammons commences the recycling:

One of the reasons Beckett was good and reliable and fresh in October -- taking the role of a No. 1 starter, carrying his team through three straight series and winning a world championship for the second time in five years -- is because he didn't have to do what Sabathia did in the regular season. And the award is based solely on the regular season. Sabathia threw 40 more innings, faced 143 more batters and threw 478 more pitches than Beckett. He picked up the slack with Jake Westbrook disabled, and Cliff Lee and Jeremy Sowers back in Buffalo, and deserves top 10 MVP votes for getting the Indians to a tie with the Red Sox for best record in baseball. But all those innings, batters and pitches showed in October. Velocity is never an indicator of wear or injury -- command is. And the man with the 5.24 to 1 strikeout to walk ratio was clearly gassed trying to deal with the hitting approach of Boston's hitters.

Gammons, a week ago:

These days, starting pitching depth is extremely important, as we saw by the contrast of Josh Beckett and C.C. Sabathia in the postseason. Beckett is in a youthful prime at 27 years old, and even though logging 43 fewer innings than Sabathia may have lost him the Cy Young award, it won his teamates World Series rings.

Gammons, October 25:

As the rest given to Josh Beckett during the season might have cost him the Cy Young but gained him historic October stature, so the way Papelbon and Okajima were handled is a significant part of their 17 1/3 innings of postseason shutout relief.

Gammons, October 20:

Now, in Game 7, Daisuke Matsuzaka goes out with Hideki Okajima, Josh Beckett and Jonathan Papelbon capable of a combined five or six innings because of the way Francona backed off all three pitchers during the season. He sat Okajima in September. He forced Beckett onto the DL in one stretch and backed off him in September, which is why C.C. Sabathia will win the Cy Young while Francona has the best of Beckett in October.

There might be more, but that's enough. You see my point. Now, I'm not doubting this theory. It actually is plausible, even if I'm not as sure as Gammons about its veracity. I mean, geez, something happened to Sabathia in October, and the huge number of innings is as reasonable an explanation as any. But Gammons is so excited by actually having a plausible theory, that he feels the need to repeat it to us on a weekly basis. Peter, time for some new material.

Also, velocity is never an indicator of fatigue? It's always command? You sure about that?

Beckett won one more game (20-19), but C.C. had the better ERA (3.21 to 3.27), threw more innings, had more quality starts (25-20), had the higher quality-start percentage (74 percent-67 percent) and had 1.05 runs per start less support. But as C.C. will tell you, he'll gladly trade the award next year for what Beckett has won twice this century -- a World Series ring.

Beckett won 2 World Series by himself, apparently. Little known fact. And I guess that means he singlehandedly missed the playoffs last year when he posted an ERA over 5? Also little known -- players care more about winning the World Series than winning individual awards. At least the ones that respect the game and prioritize winning (YEAH I'M TALKING TO YOU A-ROD!). Read Peter Gammons, learn new things.

After a brief and characteristically over-optimistic discussion of the Indians' pitching depth in '08, Gammons says:

Sabathia has worked diligently to earn this Cy Young, and a rare place in the game's hierarchy.

Obviously, the comma does not belong there and causes some initial confusion. But "rare place in the game's hierarchy"? Just weird. Gammons' attempts to write creatively always come off as awkward and just plain weird.

Then, he finishes off the article with two sentences on the Red Sox that don't mention Sabathia at all. These sentences also recycle what he has already said numerous times in this article and elsewhere:

He paid for that diligence and durability in October, and now has something else to shoot for -- Beckett's crown as the premier money pitcher in the sport. The Red Sox's ace is a 6-0, 1.73 ERA in 10 career playoff appearances (72 2/3 IP), and only Curt Schilling has more World Series rings in the 21st century. Between them, Schilling and Beckett are 16-1 in the postseason this decade, and their teams have won nine of the ten series in which they've pitched.

As shown above, the "innings cost Sabathia in the playoffs" thing is well-covered, but the rest of this is also repetitive. Cf., Gammons, just last week:

[Schilling] is 11-2 with a 2.23 ERA in 19 playoff starts (sorry, but the postseason is not random), and Schilling's ability to win under pressure is a major factor in his teams' 10-2 record in postseason series, which is what it's supposed to be about.

This was just about Schilling, but obviously Beckett's "money" status has also been well-documented, ad nauseum, by Gammons. We get it, Peter -- Beckett and Schilling always win in the playoffs, all by themselves, because they are just so clutchy. Except when they stink and miss the playoffs altogether. I'm bored.

Peter Gammons Doesn't Believe in God, Because If He Existed, A-Rod Would Already Have Been Struck Down By a Lightning Bolt

I think this post is bad even by PG's standards. Let's get right to it, starting with the title.

Wright shouldn't move for A-Rod

Given this title, I wonder if perhaps Gammons will be taking some shots at A-Rod? What? He's done that before?

It's not hard to understand the lure of Alex Rodriguez's siren song.

Good start to the column, Peter. Since a "siren's song" is defined as "the enticing appeal of something alluring but potentially dangerous" what Gammons means to say is, "It's not hard to understand the allure of Alex Rodriguez's allure."

Now, thanks to some horrible parallel structure, a Gammons specialty, Gammons will now attempt a grammatical feat never before achieved: include four different tenses in one sentence. Let's see if he can do it:

Ten years from now (future), he might have outhomered Barry Bonds (future perfect), approached Pete Rose's hit record (past) and be regarded as one of the greatest players who ever lived (present).

Amazing.

It's not hard to know why Scott Boras engaged the Mets in discussions; he wouldn't be representing Alex if he didn't try to get another New York team in on the last waltz.

This is what would happen if we went shopping at Costco for crappy Gammons writing. First Gammons gives us four tenses in one sentence, and then he follows that up with a single sentence that contains a bizarre expression ("engaged the Mets in discussions"), needless hyperbole ("wouldn't be representing Alex") and a made-up metaphor ("the last waltz").

Puh-leaze.

Yes, he really writes that. He then writes three whole paragraphs, which I can summarize as follows: David Wright plays third. A-Rod plays third. Therefore, the Mets don't need A-Rod. In the midst of this earth-shattering conclusion, Gammons offers us this:

But Wright, at 24, accepted every responsibility when the Mets struggled down the stretch. While the majority of his teammates practically hid out and ducked under tables in the players' lounge, Wright was there to answer the tough questions. "I feel," he said one day, "that it is my responsibility."

Goody for him. How the hell is this relevant to anything? Apparently, denigrating anything and everything A-Rod isn't enough; Gammons has to pump up every other third baseman to make A-Rod seem less desirable, his "siren song" notwithstanding. How the fuck is this "objective analysis"? You'd think Wright was on the Red Sox or something.

Granted, Rodriguez was a Gold Glove shortstop who moved to third base, but he initiated the action to get out of Texas.

Tiny voice inside Peter's head: Maybe A-Rod isn't such a bad guy. He did volunteer to move to third base to accommodate Derek Jeter, after all.

Peter (sputtering): Fiddlesticks! A-Rod's an asshole! He "initiated the action" to get out of Texas!

Tiny Voice Inside Peter's Head: But that action was good for both teams. Texas got rid of most of his monster salary, and the Yankees got another superstar slugger.

Peter (fuming): But Rodriguez doesn't care about winning!

TVIPH: Then why would he leave Texas and go to New York?

Peter (really mad now): Oh yeah? Well, Rodriguez doesn't respect the game! So there!

TVIPH: What does that even mean?

And when the Yankees took a hard line in regards to his negotiations with the players associated, he had no choice but to move over in respect for Derek Jeter.

I have read this sentence over and over again and still don't know what it means. What negotiations? What "players associated"? I also love (read: hate) that Peter insists that a seemingly benevolent action by Rodriguez is something he "had no choice" but to do. And if he really had no choice, then he didn't move over out of "respect", he moved over because he had to! My head hurts.

This is different. Wright is the Mets' best player; he's not moving to another position.

Actually, that's exactly the same. A-Rod was the Yankees' best player when they got him, but he moved to another position anyway. The reason it's different is because this time, the incumbent (Wright) would be the one asked to switch positions, not the new guy (Rodriguez).

He and Willie Randolph were the two people who stood and accepted the harsh music down the stretch, and after seeing how Randolph was carved up, now Wright has read that he is fungible.

Another weird, made-up metaphor here. "Accepted the harsh music?" Does he mean "faced the music"? And wouldn't "acceptance" when one's team is folding be a bad thing? Wouldn't you want your star player and manager to refuse the "harsh music"? Whatever "harsh music" is?

They also need Wright, his talent, his extraordinary character, his leadership, his face on the franchise's banners for the next decade.

The italics are Gammons's. We get it, Peter. You don't like A-Rod. You love everybody else. Can we move on please?

I actually agree with his main point -- that the Mets don't need A-Rod because they have Wright -- even if it's blatantly obvious. I just find it ridiculous that Gammons will use any excuse to mount his anti-A-Rod crusade. Can anybody reading this defend him? I'm curious.

Agents are Almost as Evil as A-Rod, Especially A-Rod's Agent

Well the Red Sox did something, so Gammons chimes in. Joist has shown that Gammons was always unable to write in English, but was he always THIS Red Sox obsessed? I feel like he used to write about other teams sometimes.

Before we dive into today's claptrap, it's important to understand one of Gammons' most important and most dominating characteristics -- he is incredulously optimistic about every single player, prospect and veteran alike. This characteristic becomes especially pronounced in the off-season, so we're going to start seeing it a lot now. If you just just spent the winter reading Peter Gammons (oh god, would this somehow erase your knowledge of English?), you would think that every team is going to be so good next year, because all of their prospects are so talented and will all pan out immediately, that every team will finish with a winning record. Some might not lose at all. That's right, there will be miraculous games where both teams win, just because they are THAT FLIPPING GOOD. Especially the World Champions for All Time Boston Red Sox. Peter, take it from here.

There was no third-party agent involved whose interests and publicity could be part of the equation, so Schilling had his ideas, the Red Sox had theirs, and the deal happened quickly and easily.

Third-party agent? As opposed to... oh yeah, Peter's using that awkward descriptive phrase because he believes that agents don't really represent the interests of their clients, they represent the interests of Baal and Beelzebub. Who are third parties, by the way. In other words, MLB agents aren't very good agents, even though they've reached the pinnacle of their profession. Peter, if the state of sports agency is that bad, perhaps you should be an agent! I heard writing English is optional!

So instead of trying to squeeze every last penny out of some desperate owner in the National League Central or spending weeks bleeding out a public melodrama, Schilling settled for the $8 million deal with incentives, some of which involve conditioning, to which he consented.

Bleeding out a public melodrama? What a bizarre phrase to use there. If he would have said, "instead of bleeding some desperate owner or playing out a public melodrama...," this would have made more sense. Sometimes it seems like Peter just fell on his head on the way to work or something. And why the National League Central? Was some team(s) in that division especially interested in Schilling, but he turned them down? Did they offer him more money? If you know, why don't you tell us Peter? It sure would be gosh darn nice to know! Finally, what is the purpose of that last phrase, "to which he consented"? It totally threw me the first time I read this. Is he consenting to the conditioning? He consented to conditioning? Maybe, if the Red Sox are training him. But didn't Gammons already say that with "he settled for an $8 million deal with incentives"? What does that last phrase add? Forget it, let's just move on.

This is admirable, because there isn't anyone who cares about the game who still doesn't have a hangover from the vile announcement of the A-Rod opt-out as Jon Lester closed out the World Series. Schilling focused on issues that give some agents heartburn: family, team, winning, his place in history.

Wow, Gammons just can't get over this A-Rod thing! He's still fuming! "The vile announcement"! Again, wow. Just insane.

Those issues give agents heartburn? Huh? An agent's job is to zealously represent the interest of their clients. Yes, they usually just try to get the most money they can. But that's because that's what the players hired them to do. Millions of dollars in salary are at stake, salary earned over the precious few years these players are still able to perform at a high enough level to play in the major leagues. In other words, not only is it a lot of money in an absolute sense, it's a lot of money relative to the total amount of income these players will earn during their adult lives. Then, when these players hire agents, people like Gammons just assume that the players can't care about money, so it must be the agents cavalierly bargaining with their clients' futures to make more money on commission. As if players with agents never sign for a little less for competitive or familial reasons. We're drifting beyond issues solely afflicting Peter Gammons here, but I've always found this attitude ridiculous.

He even slapped himself on his blog by asserting he needed to have the weigh-in clauses.

Uh, what? Slapped himself? How do you slap yourself on a blog? Slap! Slap! Slap! I don't feel anything, it's not working. "Asserting"? Do you mean admitting? Needed to have the clauses in order to what? I just don't understand what happened here. My best guess at an English translation is as follows:

He even humbly admitted on his blog that he needed the weigh-in clause in order to motivate himself to stay fit over the winter.

But then we're stuck with the ridiculous idea that Curt Schilling is humble. So who knows.

He is 11-2 with a 2.23 ERA in 19 playoff starts (sorry, but the postseason is not random), and Schilling's ability to win under pressure is a major factor in his teams' 10-2 record in postseason series, which is what it's supposed to be about.

Yay, I knew we wouldn't go an entire post without an "it's about." And what is he saying with that "postseason is not random" stuff? I have no idea. Seems to be some kind of strawman, but that's just a guess. Substantively, why the record in postseason series? Why not just leave it with the specific games he actually pitched in? Are we giving him credit for all the other games his teams won in which he didn't even pitch? His clutchness was just contagious? Uh, sorry, I'm not buying it.

What is Schilling now? Given that he has addressed last offseason's mistake in terms of his physical preparation, he is likely to regain some velocity to go with his uncanny ability to break down hitters and execute pitches. These days, starting pitching depth is extremely important, as we saw by the contrast of Josh Beckett and C.C. Sabathia in the postseason. Beckett is in a youthful prime at 27 years old, and even though logging 43 fewer innings than Sabathia may have lost him the Cy Young award, it won his teamates World Series rings.

What is Schilling? You mean, how good is he? I guess that's what you mean. (Reading your columns is mostly guess-work.) And how has Schilling already corrected the "mistake in terms of his physical preparation," leaving aside how wordy and awkward that phrasing is? The offseason just started! And here we have that boundless Gammons optimism I spoke of earlier -- the belief that Schilling will gain velocity at the age of 41, simply by not getting fatter! And, "in a youthful prime"? Who would say, "in a prime," much less "in a youthful prime"? I guess he's just saying that Beckett is in his prime and still young at 27, but since he's Gammons, he has to say it weirdly.

A bit later:

They have two stellar potential aces in Lester, whom they believe will win 15-17 games, and Clay Buchholz, whom one respected baseball man calls "the best young pitcher I saw last season."

For today's grade school grammar lesson, let's hand it over to the cast of the Office (even though they are currently on strike):

Ryan: What I really want honestly, Michael, is for you to know it so you can communicate it to the people here, to your clients, to whomever.

Michael: Oh, okay

Ryan: What?

Michael: It’s whoever, not whomever.

Ryan: No, it’s whomever

Michael: No…whomever is never actually right.

Jim: Well, sometimes it’s right.

Creed: Michael is right. It’s a made-up word used to trick students.

Andy: No. Actually, whomever is the formal version of the word.

Oscar: Obviously, it’s a real word, but I don’t know when to use it correctly.

Michael (talking to the camera): Not a native speaker.

Kevin: I know what’s right, but I’m not gonna say because you’re all jerks who didn’t come see my band last night.

Ryan: Do you really know which one is correct?

Kevin: I don’t know.

Pam: It’s whom when it’s the object of the sentence and who when it’s the subject.

Phyllis: That sounds right.

Michael: Well, it sounds right, but is it?

Stanley: How did Ryan use it, as an object?

Ryan: As an object.

Kelly: Ryan used me as an object.

Stanley: Is he right about that?

Pam: How did he use it again?

Toby: It was…Ryan wanted Michael, the subject, to, uh explain the computer system, the object–

Michael: Yes!

Toby: –to whomever, meaning us, the indirect object…which is the correct usage of the word.

Michael: No one asked you anything, ever, so whomever’s name is Toby, why don’t you take a letter opener and stick it into your skull!

Thanks guys! Peter, it's who will win, not whom will win. The truth is, this was a pretty tricky one, as it's easy to get thrown off by the juxtaposition of "they believe." But Lester is not the object of "believe." Peter is saying that the Red Sox believe that Lester will win, he just left out the "that" (which is fine). They are not believing Lester. The second "whom," however, is correct, because Lester here is the object of "calls." Glad we have that cleared up. The point is, even though this is slightly tricky, this is a major website, and professional editors, which this major website should have, should be able to find and correct this sort of thing. And super-duper award-winning writers like Gammons probably shouldn't be making these kinds of mistakes to begin with. At least not a million billion times.

Boston has the luxury of an elite closer in Jonathan Papelbon, whose stuff and makeup are off the charts. He is fearless, and he is Fingersesque. In the bottom of the ninth in Game 2 of the ALDS against the Angels, as David Ortiz was being walked intentionally to bring up Manny Ramirez, Papelbon asked Francona whether or not he would pitch the 10th inning if they scored. "If we score, Pap, it's over," laughed a teammate. And Ramirez drilled a three-run homer.

Sometimes Gammons just rambles. Or, in this case, gushes, because he's talking about the Red Sox. What does this anecdote about Papelbon have anything to do with Schilling? And what does it even say about Papelbon? That he doesn't know the rules of baseball? Did Rollie Fingers not know that a baseball game ended if the home team went ahead in the bottom of the 9th?

Later:

With the Phillies eschewing interest and the Yankees uncertain, the market hasn't been defined, so while the Red Sox have agreed to go to a third year, that may not be enough to exclude other teams.

I think Peter doesn't know what "eschewing" means. The fact that a team is not interested does not contribute to Gammons' ultimate point in the sentence (that "three years may not be enough to exclude other teams"). I strongly suspect that Gammons meant that the Phillies are showing interest, but he wanted to use a funkier word, and "eschewing" sounds a little like "showing," so he figured they must mean the same thing. Sorry, that's incorrect, Peter.

If they could sign Lowell soon, it would allow them to make a prospects deal for Coco Crisp rather than have to use him to get a corner infielder.

Ugh. Are the Red Sox trading for Crisp? And... eh, this is just a mess. Since ESPN.com's editors are asleep at the wheel, let's just do their job for them:

If they could sign Lowell soon, it would allow them to trade Coco Crisp for prospects rather than for a corner infielder.

Was that so hard?

Given that the Braves say they will not deal Kelly Johnson and are going to play Jordan Schafer in center, getting a corner bat from teams like the Rangers for Crisp may be difficult, especially with the diminished value of third baseman Hank Blalock.

What, Peter was wrong? Atlanta is not willing to trade their excellent, young second baseman who

won't be a free agent for years for the price of a mediocre first baseman? I hate to say I told you so, but... I did. Not that I deserve any credit, it was a nutty idea to begin with.

Also, doesn't Blalock's diminished value make it easier to buy him? What am I missing? Here, perhaps, is an example that explains the lack of editing. Often, Gammons' writing is so bad, you can't even correct it, because you can't even understand what he's trying to say. So the editors just throw up their hands. Can you blame them?

Peter Gammons Exclusive: Minaya Gets a Headache

I previously speculated about a possible reason why Gammons's writing is so patently horrible and clearly not read by any editor, since, as we've repeatedly pointed out, it doesn't take a grammar whiz to spot many of his errors. (However, as something of a grammar whiz myself, I've found it's more fun, if more excruciating, to read his drivel.) To summarize, I theorized that Gammons's "illness" was actually an attempt by ESPN to save face over his extended absence due to a contract dispute, a dispute that was resolved only when ESPN acceded to Gammons's request that his columns and blog entries be completely unedited.

Those of you who were horrified at the notion that I would trivialize a person's serious illness will be happy to learn that I was wrong. Here's the proof - a horribly written post from way back on May 19, 2006. Hey, that's our father's birthday! Happy birthday, Dad - here's a piece of shit blog entry! Some highlights (lowlights?):

Mets GM Omar Minaya isn't blind. He's suffered through Lima Time, and Brian Bannister is still on hold. He believes John Maine is going to be very good, but he's a ways away, and rushing Mike Pelfrey (4.15 ERA, 30 H, 21 2/3 IP in Double A) has more long-term downside than upside.

I'm assuming that Gammons isn't telling us that Minaya literally "isn't blind". Gammons, then, must be using one of those metaphor thingies. The thing is, though, that metaphors are only effective and coherent if they continue past their first use or are otherwise explained. Here, Gammons starts off talking about Minaya's figurative blindness, but then, follow me carefully here, never mentions it again. It ends up not appearing to be a metaphor at all, but rather an assessment of his health. "Mets GM Omar Minaya isn't blind; he does, however, have a nagging toothache, and he may need surgery on his tennis elbow if it doesn't start showing signs of improvement." If you think that criticism was a stretch, how about the phrase "he's a ways away"? That definitely sucks.

Wang is the AL's Brandon Webb, as the pair have two of the four best ground ball to fly ball ratios (after leader Derek Lowe) in the majors and is coming off an 18/3 GB/FB night against the Rangers.

This sentence is priceless. I don't even know where to begin. First of all, why would he compare Wang to the guy with the second-best ground-ball ratio? Why not just compare him to, I don't know, Derek Lowe? Second, if they have two of the four best ratios, that means they're not both "after leader Derek Lowe"; there must be another guy who's third. Hey, Gammons, why didn't you just write: "Wang has the fourth-best ground ball/fly ball ratio in the majors." That tells us the exact same information and it's not full of gratuitous name dropping and confusing, meaningless comparisons!

For instance, the Marlins may listen on Willis come the All-Star break, but they have told other teams that if they do, they want a Bartolo Colon deal -- three premium prospects (of which Grady Sizemore and Cliff Lee are close to All-Star status).

I'm just going to have to rewrite this one, because it's just so abjectly horrendous.

For instance, the Marlins have told other teams that they will only listen to offers for Willis if they get three premium prospects in return. The Indians held out for a similar deal when they traded Bartolo Colon, and they ended up with two All-Star caliber players: Grady Sizemore and Cliff Lee. (Actually, the third, Brandon Phillips, was an All-Star this year, with the Reds. Pretty sweet deal, in retrospect.)

How much of an improvement is that? Regardless, here you have undeniable proof that Gammons's writing sucked as far back as early 2006, before his illness. The search for the truth about his lack of editor continues...

Breaking News: Mike Lowell to Remain a Person (at least until age 37)

Peter Gammons' post from yesterday, which Joist has already taken a couple shots at, is actually not so atrocious. Nothing like the craptacular fantasy of bad writing that was the A-Rod post. Could somebody be listening? Nah...

Anyway, as Joist mentioned, here's the headline:

Lowell and Behold

[crickets.] Wow, that's pretty bad. You know why? Usually a pun will involve a double meaning, and both meanings have some applicability to the particular context. Now, after some rambling about Beckett and his auras and emanations, Gammons does get around to talking about Lowell. And Lowell does sound kinda like "Lo." But what in the world does the phrase "Lo and Behold" have to do with this article, or any article that Gammons has ever written? Answer: nothing.

First sentence:

For all else that happened, the story of this postseason was the realization that the postseason MVP was Josh Beckett, and that he is emerging as the most dominant pitcher in the game.

So, the story WAS the realization THAT the mvp WAS (gasping for air) Beckett, and... Obviously, this sentence could have been written more concisely and logically. But what particularly stands out is "the realization that." What realization? Is the story really the realization that Josh Beckett is good? Isn't it the actual fact that he is good? (Not that that was such a huge story either -- with all due respect to Bostonians... actually, I take that back, no respect at all, the biggest story still was quite obviously the amazing run of the Colorado Rockies. It's not close. Anyone who is not a Masshole realizes this.) Seriously though, why are those words in there? I can't fathom a reason. Here's the normal, English, non-Gammons version of that sentence:

Amidst all the great performances this postseason, Josh Beckett stood out, emerging as both the postseason MVP and the most dominant pitcher in the game.

Or something like that. Anyway, Gammons follows with a lot of clicheed mush about the godliness that emanates from the Red Sox and surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the Galaxy to-... oh wait, that's the Force. Here's the next bit that stands out:

Beckett, as he is wont to do, stood in the shadows. But when he stands out on the mound, his aura is way beyond the hot and the fresh and the celebrity.

I was kind of pissed Joist beat me to the punch on this one. But first thing's first -- Beckett is "wont" to stand in the shadows? He is? I thought he shines brightly, like a beacon on a hill! He took baseball's biggest stage and freaking shut out everyone on national television with an icy stare and totally ridiculous pitching! Where does the shadow-lurking come in? Was he just literally standing in shadows at the parade? Does he always-, sorry, is he wont to stand in shadows at victory parades? Wow, what a weird and impossible habit.

Anyway, I dare you to make sense of that last part. I'll repeat it: "his aura is way beyond the hot and the fresh and the celebrity." It's actually sort of an aesthetically perfect bad sentence. It starts poorly, putting us immediately in the Clicheed Bullshit realm with "His aura." Then, "way beyond" -- we're drifting farther, because how is an aura "way beyond" anything? Then, "the hot and the fresh" -- what are we even talking about now? He's so good, the adjectives "hot" and "fresh" would understate how good he is? And then the punchline, where it reaches the apex, the greatest height of incomprehensible absurdity -- "and the celebrity," a noun placed where not even an adjective could have saved the sentence. Is Gammons actually and secretly a surrealist artist? It's just too gloriously awful to be real. There is no English version of this sentence; it's pure, untranslatable Gammons.

We're going to take a little break from linguistic absurdity though and talk about some substantive absurdity:

...but if the Phillies, Yankees or Dodgers are willing to go to four years and somewhere between $48 million and $56 million, Lowell likely will not be back.
This is a deal that could have been done in March or June at three years and $30-35 million, because Lowell likes Boston.

Huh? Lowell currently likes Boston, right? You used the present tense, after all. And I would think he does currently like Boston, since Boston verily and erotically loves him, not to mention the fact that he just won a championship there. So how is this a reason that a cheaper, 3-year deal was possible in June, but not now? Of course, I can think of other reasons, such as the fact that he has completely ruled at the plate since June. But strangely, that's not the reason Gammons gives. Then, immediately following that comes this:

He is one of those rare players who seems to slow everything down for everyone around him.

What does that mean? Is it good? Since the rest of the article is about Lowell being awesome, I can only assume this is good. But that's the only way I know.

Some more substantive absurdity, nay, INSANITY:

He and Alex Cora were great friends to Manny Ramirez, who played his soul out in October and had one less RBI (16) than Alex Rodriguez has had in his postseason career.

That's right -- Manny Ramirez "played his soul out." I'm just utterly flabbergasted here. Where in the hell was Gammons when Ramirez caught a small mountain's worth of flack for hitting an off-the-wall "single" at Jacobs Field in Game 5? And that, of course, was only the most egregious case of non-hustle for Manny in the playoffs; McCarver, who was frequently livid about this, will tell you that there were many others. Gammons has his head so far up his own Masshole that Manny, the single most lackadaisical player in baseball, is "playing his soul out." Just amazing.

And of course, it should be "one fewer RBI" (Joist will like that one, it's a pet peeve of his) and you gotta love the pointless, tangential shot at A-Rod.

This part isn't crazy, it's just a little weird to me:

Maybe Boston can trade Coco Crisp to Atlanta for Kelly Johnson, who could play first with Kevin Youkilis at third. Johnson is an emerging hitter whose .832 OPS in 2007 is better than Lowell's career numbers.

Obviously, Gammons knows more than I do when it comes to this kind of stuff, so maybe he just knows something I don't know. He is, after all, the man with the scoop. But this is just weird. As Gammons points out, Kelly Johnson had a very solid OPS. Moreover, he had this OPS playing the offense-deficient position of 2nd base. And he played slightly above average defense there last season, according to Baseball Prospectus (8 runs better than average in 100 games, to be exact). He would be completely wasted at first base. And why would the Braves do this deal? Kelly Johnson just had his first full season in the majors, so they have him for cheap for several more years. And as everyone knows, Coco Crisp has completely flopped since he was traded to Boston. Weird. Finally:

In business terms, what Mike Lowell remains at 37 is a valid question, but he still will be Mike Lowell the person, and no one else can make that claim.

In business terms? Don't you mean in baseball performance terms? And we know basically what Peter is trying to say here, but there seem to be a few words missing. Why didn't he just say, "whether Mike Lowell will remain this productive at 37 is a valid question"? Why the vague "what" and the inappropriate present-tense "remains"? Gammons, would you say it that way when doing a spot on ESPN? Of course, you wouldn't. As Chazz Palmentieri said to John Cusack in Bullets Over Broadway (if you haven't seen it, go to Netflix IMMEDIATELY when you're done reading this and rent it): "You know what your problem is? You don't write the way people talk." Gammons' writing would be many times better if he just wrote exactly how he spoke on ESPN.

And finally, Gammons ends his piece with a flabby cliche about how Lowell "still will be Mike Lowell the person, and no one else can make that claim." That's right, no one else can claim to be Mike Lowell, or at least Mike Lowell, the person, except Mike Lowell. I previously thought Angelina Jolie could claim to be Mike Lowell. Now I know someone else can claim to be Mike Lowell the desk lamp, but not Mike Lowell the person. Great point. And with that, we're done.

*edit: There are actually a couple short anecdotes after this in Gammons' post, but they're too short for Gammons to get any bad-writing momentum going. There's really nothing of significance to complain about there, so we're stopping here.

Comments!

I just changed the settings to allow anybody to make comments. So if you have anything to say about our work, we'd like to hear it!

Since I can't let an entire post go without a shot at Gammons, here's the title of his entry on 10/31:

Lowell and Behold

Wow, Peter. How long did it take you to come up with that one? The best part, of course, is that the first half of the post is actually about...Josh Beckett! Naturally!

Here's one more gem from the column:

But when he [Beckett] stands out on the mound, his aura is way beyond the hot and the fresh and the celebrity.

I...have no idea what this means. Has anybody ever said, "Wow, that Josh Beckett. His aura is hot and fresh and celebrityish!" Because then, and only then, would it make sense for Gammons to come along and say, "No! Becket's aura goes way beyond the hot, the fresh, and the celebrity! But only when he stands out on the mound. Otherwise, yeah, that sounds about right."

Actually...scratch that. It still makes no sense.

A Quickie, but a Goodie

It took me literally four readings to figure out what Gammons means here:

The Angels also have a cornucopia of prospects, if they are not in the A-Rod sweepstakes.

The word "if" is typically a conjunction that indicates a dependent relationship between two clauses. For example, "If ESPN starts editing Peter Gammons's writing, I will have nothing to write about in this blog." The clause, "I will have nothing to write about in this blog" is dependent on the clause, "ESPN starts editing Peter Gammons's writing".

Applying that logic to this sentence is a futile exercise, because Gammons decided it's time to throw logic out the window. Somebody who isn't familiar with baseball or free agency or the like might assume that the Angels only have a "cornucopia of prospects" if they're not participating in the A-Rod sweepstakes. Not so! Somebody who might not realize that A-Rod is a free agent might think that the Angels would have to trade their "cornucopia of prospects" for A-Rod. Wrong again! It turns out that what Gammons meant to say is the following: if the Angels aren't in the A-Rod sweepstakes, they can use their cornucopia of prospects to trade for Miguel Cabrera (the main subject of this blog post)! Crystal clear, right?

Brief pro-Gammons aside: The comparison at the end of the column between Cabrera and A-Rod at the same age was pretty startling and informative. Gammons, just learn how to write and I will love you almost as much as you love the Red Sox!