The toughest time for me, from a writing standpoint, is April.  It’s just too easy to fall into the trap of putting far too much stock in a minimum of information, proffering analysis of nothing, solutions to nonexistent problems, and writing things that look ridiculous two months down the road.  (I almost did just this with a post I wrote about Dusty Baker’s tenure so far in Cincinnati when I realized that Baker had actually fixed one the problems I was blaming him for.)  As I read through each day’s baseball news, I see so much coverage that bugs me, from overanalysis of a few innings of pitching to overreaction to a two-week slump to ascribing far too much importance to three games.

I can’t help but cringe when I see one of the key lessons of sabermetrics — that small samples of baseball are not valuable analytically — has made such little penetration into the mainstream.  That Philip Hughes has had two bad starts, or David Ortiz two bad weeks, or that the Diamondbacks swept the Rockies, just doesn’t mean a whole lot for what those entities will do going forward.  We have more information than that, and whether the new information runs counter to our beliefs or supports them, it’s important that we keep it in perspective.

The important information at this time of year comes from the manager’s office, comes from the trainer’s room, comes from the GM’s chair.  How is playing time being distributed?  What roles are being shared, are being changed, are being defined well or poorly?  What are teams doing in reaction to injuries?  What are they doing in reaction — or better still, in non-reaction — to small samples?

Take a look at what Bruce Bochy has done.  An injury to Dave Roberts has cleared a path for Fred Lewis to start in the veteran’s absence.  Eugenio Velez is chipping away at Ray Durham’s playing time at second base.  The next logical move is to bench or release Rich Aurilia and let Dan Ortmeier play first base.  It’s not that the younger players are stars-in-waiting; in each case, though, they are better than the veterans in their way, and have better chances to contributing to the Giants beyond 2008.  Bochy may finally be coming around to that mindset.

It’s not about performance in April, not on the field.  The wins and losses count, the homers and hits all go into the final record, but because all players can do just about anything in a month of play, the numbers don’t have meaning.  To learn in April, one has to follow the lineups, and the reactions by management, and the way roles change.  That’s the stuff that is meaningful, for good and bad. 

I tuned into the Giants game on April 7 and April 12 and each time was confronted with a scene that, I believe, provides a foretelling of the San Francisco season in microcosm. There was Matt Cain, struggling away in the fifth inning of a 0-0 game. (In the game on April 12, Matt actually had a no-hitter through five innings.) Better get used to those goose eggs, Matt–a year of non-support from your teammates is your lot.

Through 19 games, the Giants have scored 61 runs, least in the National League. When a team’s cleanup hitter is Bengie Molina, a 33-year-old catcher with a career .410 slugging average, isn’t it hard imagining them scoring even 500 times this season? That’s much too extreme, of course. It’s been ages (36 years, actually) since a team scored way down in the low threes–or under–per game. In 1972, one National and four American League teams were under 500 runs. (You see why the designated hitter came about?) Without starving to that extent, the Giants do seem like a good bet to break into this list of modern era clubs that have scored the fewest runs:

Lowest runs per game since 1996
3.54: 2003 Dodgers (574 runs scored)
3.57: 2002 Tigers (575)
3.65: 2003 Tigers (591)
3.80: 2004 Diamondbacks (615)
3.83: 1998 Devil Rays (620)
3.87: 2002 Brewers (627)
3.92-3.99: Eight teams (634 to 650)

San Francisco right now is scoring runs at a rate of 3.21 per game, which puts them at the top (bottom?) of this list. If AT&T Park were no longer almost neutral and suddenly started playing like the pitcher’s haven it was during its PacBell infancy, then we could almost guarantee a Giants appearance on this list. While I loathe extracting too much from a season’s first three weeks, the Giants so far are certainly fulfilling everyone’s fears of a season of offensive deprivation. Scoring zero runs (they’ve done it twice), one run (three times), or two runs (four times) is bound to be the rule and not the exception.

The Giants have a host of problems that could lead them to a franchise record for losses (previous mark: 100, set in 1985) this year. They cannot score, their aging defense will allow many extra hits, and outside of Matt Cain and Tim Lincecum, they don’t have the pitching to work around these issues.

What we’ve learned during this first homestand is that they aren’t going to win many games from the dugout and coaching boxes, either. Bruce Bochy, whose tactical failings were a common complaint of Padres fans during his time in San Diego, has made the kind of small moves –- the wrong ones -– that shows a lack of understanding of how to manage your 25 pieces in a way that gives your team the best chance to win a baseball game. (more…)

The Arizona Diamondbacks won the West last season, shooting past a poorly-directed Dodgers team and the twice-defending division-champion Padres, while keeping just barely ahead of the surprising Rockies. I’ll toot my horn a bit and reveal that in an office pool in March 2007 I picked the Diamondbacks to have the second-best record in the National League. However, if you’d told me then that the Snakes were going to allow more runs than they scored, I’d have said they wouldn’t be a contender.

As explained here, teams’ won-loss records generally reflect their run differentials. A team that allows more runs than it scores is almost always going to have a losing record. The Diamondbacks allowed 732 runs last year and scored just 712, yet still won the division with a 90-72 record. So the Snakes’ record was nearly 11 games better than their run differential would have suggested.

What the Diamondbacks did last year goes against our accepted beliefs about how baseball teams win. The relationship between run differential and overall record is so consistent that it has created a measure of certainty among performance analysts. When that relationship is fractured to the degree that it was by the Snakes last year, we’re tempted to write it off as a fluke, but if we take a closer look, we can see how they managed to undermine sabermetric orthodoxy to such an alarming degree – and perhaps get a picture of how well we should expect them to play in 2008. (more…)

My friend OmbudsBen oversees an annual pool in which participants rank the teams in each league, from best to worst, and then are assigned points based on how far off each of their picks is from that team’s actual finish. (You can see OmbudsBen’s picks in last season’s pool here and here.) I won the pool last year, which means of course that I won’t place in the top five this season. I actually try to estimate the number of runs each team will score and allow and then use a simple formula to derive their likely winning percentage. My picks:

American League: New York, Boston, Cleveland, Detroit, Tampa Bay, Los Angeles, Oakland, Toronto, Chicago, Seattle, Minnesota, Kansas City, Texas, and Baltimore.

National League: New York, Chicago, Milwaukee, Arizona, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Philadelphia, Colorado, Cincinnati, San Diego, St. Louis, Washington, Houston, Pittsburgh, Florida, San Francisco.

Yes, it’s going to be a long season for Giants fans. But look at what fans in Tampa Bay can look forward to!

The Chronicle headlined Gwen Knapp’s column this morning “For those who think Zito is a bust, here’s the evidence.” Yes, Zito’s performance in yesterday’s opener was bad, but it was only disappointing to those who ignored evidence readily available on the day Zito was signed in December 2006. At the time, Brian Sabean evidently thought the twenty-eight-year-old Zito was coming into his prime, but Zito had actually been on a downward trend since 2004. In his first four major-league seasons from 2000-2003, Zito was 61-29, with a 3.12 ERA in 119 starts, and boasted nine-inning rates of 7.2 hits, 10.9 baserunners, 7.2 strikeouts, and 3.4 walks. Over the subsequent three seasons, Zito went 41-34 with a 4.05 ERA in 103 starts and his nine-inning rates were 8.3 hits, 12.5 baserunners, 6.6 strikeouts, and 3.7 walks. The Giants are paying a number-three starter $80 million over seven years. Do you think Johan Santana’s agent used those numbers as a starting point in his negotiations with the Mets as the New Yorkers attempted to sign the best starter in baseball?

Similarly, the Giants are never going to get their money’s worth from the Aaron Rowland contract (five years at $60 million). On the plus side, the signing gives the pitching staff the double break of replacing Dave Roberts in center with Rowand, and Bonds in left with Roberts. Since the only real point to playing the 2008 season will be to let Matt Cain and Tim Lincecum do their things, building a better defense isn’t such a terrible bit of off-season work. But I expect the Giants to be almost as rudely disappointed by Rowand’s hitting outside of Philadelphia as they are with Zito’s pitching away from Oakland. In only two full seasons of play has Rowand been an above-average hitter, and his numbers in the vastness of AT&T Park will not look so good as his numbers in that bandbox in Philadelphia. Given the abandon with which Rowand plays center, the chances that he lasts the full five years while playing every day seem pretty slight to me. What I don’t get is Rowand’s decision, since it involves paying California taxes and leaving playoff-picture relevance for the balance of his career, but as he’s already 30, we can at least acknowledge that he did choose a lovely place to play out that career.

I’m not embarrassed to say that today I love everyone.

At least twice a week, my colleague Ed comes into my office bemoaning the Giants’ refusal to claim yet another guy placed on waivers by some club with actual talent on their roster. Ed’s right that the Giants don’t take advantage of the free talent that’s out there for the taking. This is all the more damaging to the Giants since some of that freely available talent is better than most of what the Giants have on their roster.

In what may be a never-ending series of suggestions of ways the Brian Sabean could improve the ballclub, I present Matt Murton. He lost his spot on the Cubs when they signed Reed Johnson (also someone the Giants could have looked at), and today they announced they’re not even going to carry Murton as a reserve. He simply needs a new organization, and like Johnson, he brings a perfect package of skills to the table in terms of what the Giants should be looking for in an outfielder; right-handed, gap power, lefty masher, solid to plus defender in a corner OF. Toss in the fact that Murton is just 26 years old and has only two years of service time, and he’s the kind of player who could help the team both in 2008 and beyond. With players like Murton available, the Giants simply shouldn’t settle for their internal candidates for the fourth OF job — that includes Dave Roberts — they can do better. While Murton is not exactly free talent (he’s not out of options, and the Cubs announced Thursday that they will send him to their AAA affiliate if they cannot trade him), the Giants should certainly be willing to include one of their current outfielders in a package that nets them Murton. I’m willing to bet that Murton, wherever he goes, will put up a better OPS in 2008 than any of the Giants’ outfielders.

As of today, no team thinks Barry Bonds can help them win. But to believe that, a team has to put aside a lot of evidence to the contrary. Last season, Bonds batted .276/.480/.565. Had he qualified — he was 25 plate appearances short — he would have led the National League in OBP by a wide margin and finished in the top ten in slugging. In fact, using the rule that one can add an 0-for-25 to his stats, he actually dominated the NL in OBP.

Of course, a chunk of Bonds’s OBP came from the intentional walks he received, 43 last season. You can argue that this disproportionately inflates his OBP, a function less of Bonds’s abilities and more of Brian Sabean’s inability to find hitters better than Ray Durham and Bengie Molina to hit behind him. So lop 35 intentional walks off of Bonds’s total, and give him the average performance in his other at-bats in those 35 times up. That makes him a .276/.439/.565 hitter, assuming he drew no walks in that time and saw the same distribution of lefty and righty pitchers, both ungenerous assumptions. He’d pick up a couple of homers, and almost certainly more than a couple RBI, both of which would inflate his value to those who think RBI an indication of value.

Then again, those intentional walks tell you more about Bonds’s skills than anything else in his stat line. Managers all think he’s good enough to not bother trying to get out nearly ten percent of the time. How can a hitter that good not warrant a spot in someone’s lineup? With a VORP of 55.2, he was 19th in all of MLB. There is no argument that Bonds is not a championship-caliber hitter. He remains one of the very best in the game on a per-at-bat basis.

What are the objections to signing Bonds? His baserunning and defense have been attacked viciously. It is clear that his troublesome knees have slowed him down as he ages; he’s not the speedster he was in his prime. He doesn’t steal many bases any longer, yet he’s nearly perfect when he does: 8-for-8 since 2006, 59-for-70 since 1999. Contrary to what one might read in the papers, I’ve seen no baserunning study showing he’s one of the worst baserunners in the game. Harping on his baserunning deficiencies reflects bias, not study.

Bonds’s defense, like his baserunning, looks worse than it actually is. One legitimate criticism is of Bonds’s arm, which is terrible. Then again, that has little to do with age; Bonds couldn’t throw when he was a Pirate able to play center field. Bonds’s defense, arm included, is a negative, but does it cost his team more than a win in a season? He is not the worst left fielder in the majors, with regulars such as Adam Dunn, Raul Ibanez, Luis Gonzalez, and Pat Burrell out there. So Bonds puts up a lot of runs at the plate, and gives back some with his baserunning and defense. His performance in those areas is not optimal, but not unusually so, and no more so than the way baserunning and defense have been weak spots for older hitters since Ty Cobb was an Athletic.

Despite the persistent notion that Bonds is a designated hitter, he ranked in the top twenty in innings played in left field each of the past two seasons, and for the two years combined, he was 13th. Among the players ahead of him by innings are the aforementioned defensive liabilities and other so-so defenders such as Jason Bay and Manny Ramirez. Left field, quite clearly, is not the place where teams worry so much about defense. So raising the issue with Bonds, who is on the field a reasonable amount, played the position no more poorly than many of his peers, and outhit them all, is ridiculous. Bonds’s defense is not a reason not to sign him.

Bonds’s actual playing time, substantial in each of the last two seasons, is actually underestimating how much he could play for an American League team. With the ability to DH at least half the time, Bonds would be able to play at least as often as he has the past two seasons. Bonds’s 2006-07 performance underestimates what he could do for an AL team. Less time on the field could save his legs, enabling him to run and field better when he is in left.

Another objection is money. We have no idea what amount Bonds is looking for. But how much ground should Bonds give in negotiation? He was a more valuable player last season than Andrew Jones, who will make $18 million this season. He was better than Eric Gagne, who will make $10 million. Look at what a mediocrity, such as Juan Pierre, is paid. In a market that values inferior players like Pierre at eight figures a year and more, how can it be that a league leader in OBP has outlandish demands? At his 2007 price ($15.5 million), Bonds is a reasonable buy. At $10 million he’s a bargain.

A better reason for a prospective employer’s wariness is the uncertainty over Bonds’s perjury-and-obstruction-of-justice trial. From a contractual standpoint, this is handled easily: the contract becomes null in the event of a conviction. Beyond that, given the pace of the prosecution thus far, the government’s need for more “typos” that bias the jury pool, and Bonds’s lawyers’ need to make motions to counter the typos, Bonds will be available for the 2008 season.

Bonds is perceived as unpopular among baseball fans, and carries the stigma of his assumed steroid use with him. The first is a problem, although one that is a complicated issue going back 20 years, and clearly prevents some teams that protect their image as family-friendly from getting involved. However, the steroid thing, like Bonds’s baserunning and defense, should be a non-factor. Players have been suspended for performance-enhancing drug (PED) use and then signed to multi-year, multi-million-dollar contracts. With all the names mentioned in the Mitchell Report, and all the subsequent mea culpas, no players have found themselves released, sued, or blacklisted. Steroid use, proven or otherwise, is simply not grounds for not employing a baseball player. Holding out on Bonds for that reason is hamstringing your team for no reason.

The steroid issue leads to one other justification for not signing Bonds: that his presence creates a circus atmosphere around the team. The lack of this atmosphere is a core element in the “happy Giants” stories that floated around in the press in February. But the media circus that accompanies Bonds is just that: a media circus. If there’s anything we know about Barry Bonds, it’s that he doesn’t enjoy talking to the media. He doesn’t invite them to cover him, he certainly doesn’t provide good quotes, and he doesn’t make the media’s job easy. Nevertheless, we’ve been treated to a decade of stories about how Bonds doesn’t like the media and is a big meanie to its members. This is akin to the issues discussed above, raising the idea that Bonds creates a media circus far above its importance. Worse, the rationale blames Bonds for this, when he’s the last person who wants a “circus” atmosphere.

Barry Bonds is a championship-caliber baseball player, better at getting on base and hitting for power than all but a few hitters in the game. The things he doesn’t do well — running, throwing, and covering ground in left field — lessen his value, but do not come close to negating it. He would be one of the 40 most productive players in the NL, and with an AL team his playing time and productivity would increase. Teams have behaved as if winning is what matters in their dealings with bad guys — count the spousal abuse charges as well as the PED cases. Drawing a line at Bonds is absurd when you consider what he brings to a team.

Once again this March, I read in the papers, and hear from my friends, especially those in my fantasy league who are touting a particular player or team, that someone has had a “great” spring, or that this player’s spring obviously makes them a shoe-in for his club’s major-league roster.  And once again, I say to them, curb your enthusiasm.  (Or in the case of our Giants, your pessimism.)

I’ve been making the point about the meaninglessness of spring training stats all month, and I’m making it again, here, because I continue to see these stats quoted in newspaper stories about baseball as if they have meaning. They don’t. Spring training stats are meaningless.

Just one of the problems with spring training stats is the sample size issue. If Victor Diaz can pop six homers in two weeks, or Ruben Gotay can hit .436, or Sergio Mitre can post a sub-1.00 ERA – all of these things happened in a three-week period during the 2007 regular season — then how seriously can one take 50 at-bats or 15 innings? That’s what the exhibition season is: small samples deemed to have meaning because they’re ripped completely out of context. A player’s performance in the tiny sample sizes of March is no more significant than it would be in a tiny sample size of June, but because the industry has it in their heads that March is meaningful, these numbers, these performances, are treated as important.

The sample size problem is just the most obvious. Almost as big a problem is that teams aren’t actually trying to win in the Cactus or Grapefruit Leagues, no matter what they may tell you. Performance analysis works because the statistics we use are generated in an effort to win baseball games. Because of this, there are relationships among events that are reliable. In the spring standings in Arizona or Florida, however, winning is at best a secondary goal. The primary goal is preparing players for the season, and that effort is largely an individual one. One guy might need to play a lot to get his swing in order, while another may need to play very little while nursing an injury that wouldn’t keep him out of the lineup in August. One pitcher might be working on his mechanics, and another his new changeup, and if in that effort they both give up 17 runs in nine innings, well, so what? The games don’t count.  It’s because of this that we simply cannot use spring statistics to measure performance, because once you divorce the end goal of winning from the statistical lines, they completely lose meaning.

Another problem, tied to both of the above, is variability in competition. Up until the last week of spring training, there are many, many minor leaguers getting playing time in the games. Most teams travel to road games with just four starters, and maybe that many major league pitchers. No one is seeing a normal distribution of opposition talent, and just on the luck of the draw, some guys might face more Double-A pitchers than MLB ones. As far as I can tell, this is a bigger factor with pitchers, who might run out nine shutout innings while facing a series of minor leaguers wearing MLB colors, and then find themselves in the Opening Day rotation.

All of these issues also affect scouting, observational evidence, and skills analysis. As much as we think that the teams are looking past the flawed spring stats to make their evaluations, in reality, they get fooled by this stuff. Guys don’t make teams or win jobs by hitting .200 or posting a 9.00 ERA. The surprises that pop up in the spring track the stat lines, and the guys who hit .460 are the ones we hear about. You know, the ones who worked in the cage all winter, revamped their swing, had laser eye surgery, rededicated themselves to the game… these storylines are nearly as old as baseball itself. They’re all post facto rationalizations, though, and they’re based on small-sample stats compiled in games where the outcome doesn’t matter against a mix of major leaguers and others.

Spring training stats are meaningless. It’s the single most important thing to keep in mind every March.

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