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Thursday, August 24, 2006
Cursing the baseball ‘closer’
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Furman Bisher
Bear with me. This subject has come before our august group in the past, and will not go away. Because there are some of us out here who still don’t care to see baseball, as we’ve known it and grown up with it, bastardized.
I snarl. I rage. I curse the day that the word “closer” came into the vernacular with a meaning other than “nearer.” “Closer,” not as in closing a door, or closing a purse, but “closer” as in pitching one inning of baseball when two or three other guys have presented another teammate a lead, his mission for the day: Get three outs, he gets a “save.” Bully for him.
(Not only that, but it has also created two other repugnant statistics that just don’t seem to have taken hold. And speaking of “hold,” that’s one. “Blown save” is the other.)
Let’s stick to the National League, whose leader in “saves” last season was Chad Cordero of Washington. He pitched in 74 games and pitched 74 1/3 innings. He had a losing record, two games won, four lost. But that means nothing. Bruce Sutter had a losing career record and the door to the Hall of Fame was just opened to him, to join such as Walter Johnson, Christy Mathewson, Carl Hubbell and Sandy Koufax, who played in a day when games were viewed as nine-inning affairs, not one.
Here’s another statistical blurb out of the 2005 record book you may find spicy: A Dodgers pitcher named Yhency Brazoban had the season’s longest losing streak, eight games. He took over when the celebrated Eric Gagne blew his arm out pitching 13 1/3 innings in 14 calls to the mound.
“Brazo” — I have trouble addressing any guy by the name of Yhency — eventually got into 74 games, pitched 72 innings and was awarded 21 saves, so there must have been several “blown saves” somewhere in there, but that’s one of those stats that never quite caught on. Not in the book.
The Braves were having no kind of luck with “savers” last season, beginning with the ill-fated trade for Dan Kolb, the “closers” version of what Albie Lopez is to starters in Atlanta lore. So they’ll be excused from this excoriation, especially since the curse has carried over into this season. That is, until they hauled in that moose of a man from Cleveland, Bob Wickman, for which they have congratulated themselves not a few times. Good for ol’ Bob, who I’m certain is just as kind and gentle as he is huge.
It just so happens that Wickman is a factor in this outrage. It goes back to Monday night, when John Smoltz had Pittsburgh shut out on three hits going into the ninth inning. A three-hit shutout, mind you. Not many pitchers get a chance to pitch a nine-inning, three-hit shutout game this day and time. But Bobby Cox couldn’t stand it. He was forced to go “by the book.” Go to the ‘pen. Bring in this highly valued commodity from Cleveland and say, “See how valuable he is? He ‘saved’ another game for us.”
Ugh! And double ugh! There are a few old knuckleballers out there like me who felt robbed. Here we had a chance at seeing the ace pitch a complete game three-hitter, and the stage is turned over to the “closer.” You think Smoltzie’s arm hurt? Do you think he wanted to come out? Don’t ask. You know him, the consummate team player.
“Just give me six, seven, eight good innings and we’ll leave it up to old Joe Closer” is the managerial theme song. So you have your seventh-inning man, your setup man, then the hallowed closer, who, as I see it, has become an abomination to the game I have so loved for so long.
Permalink | Comments (49) | Categories: Braves / MLB, Furman Bisher
Tackle Jackson has mass appeal
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Jeff Schultz
Flowery Branch — There’s a large man in black warm-up pants and a white T-shirt sitting across from me. Either that, or it was a mattress with legs.
“I’m somewhere in the ’50s,” Grady Jackson said after hearing the question that tends to open any interview or NFL camp visit. “I can probably take off about 10 more pounds.”
Grady Jackson is a large man. He was 270 pounds as a center and power forward for his high school basketball team. That would be dangerously close to 100 pounds ago.
Grady Jackson is a large man. He’s large on the scale of, “Dude, you really don’t need to get on the scale. We know you’re big. Just promise us you won’t collapse because, like, kids come to the games.”
The ’50s — that would be the 350s. There are only eight players on current NFL rosters north of 350, and only two play defense: Cleveland nose tackle Ted Washington, and the newest member of the Falcons.
Jackson’s arrival became official when he did not pass go, or probably Golden Corral, but he did pass his physical, then checked into Flowery Branch in the late afternoon.
We don’t know yet what the Falcons will list as the official weight of their new 6-2 nose tackle. But it doesn’t really matter. He is the final piece of the Falcons’ offseason defensive makeover. He is a significant enhancement, on the level of the first time a cosmetic surgeon told Pamela Anderson, “Yes, I think we can accommodate you.”
The pre-draft acquisition of John Abraham gave the Falcons another top sacker to join Patrick Kerney. Jackson and his former Oakland teammate, Rod Coleman, are now sandwiched in between. The four now comprise quite possibly the best defensive line in the NFL.
Jackson, though he is now mostly a run defender at the age of 33, has 32.5 career sacks. The Falcon Foursome: 190 career regular-season sacks. No other NFL projected defensive line will approach that.
And about that 10 pounds Jackson said he could lose — take your time, bud.
The Falcons’ defense has had this problem. They turn trivia questions into 100-yard rushers. They needed a wide load. Wide loads plug up Death Valley. Wide loads occupy two blockers. Wide loads free up space for ends and linebackers. Did I say linebackers?
“All of his meals are on me,” Keith Brooking said Thursday.
“Yeah, we’ll take him out to lunch,” Ed Hartwell said. “We’ll make sure he keeps his weight right. As long as he’s filling those gaps, we’ll be fine.”
Hook that sucker up to a gravy-IV. Everybody, climb aboard the Grady train.
Rumors had his weight this offseason at 370 to 400, give or take a Brusters. Jackson denies that. But he is used to his weight being an issue.
“It’s always followed me, but look at the stats,” he said. “They always told what I could do on the field. As long as I make plays and get to the ball and help my team win, that’s the key.”
He has played nine seasons for three teams (Oakland, New Orleans, Green Bay). Several teams worked him out this off-season, and others called. So we can assume there’s a crying need for non-chiseled bodies.
“It’s not the weight,” he said. “You’ve got people with big mass. It’s not fat. It’s body mass.”
Body mass. How come I never thought of that excuse?
But there is no doubting Jackson’s athleticism. He was a two-time MVP of his high school basketball teams. Hoops have always been his first passion. Of course, he claims he can still dunk.
“Do you want to see?” he said.
I thought about saying yes. Then I had a vision of Rich McKay picking me off with a sniper from his office.
He also played baseball in high school. He only started playing football his junior year, “because people made me. My father said I had quick feet.”
From that point on, football coaches wouldn’t let him go. He played at a Mississippi junior college for two years, then Knoxville (Tenn.) College for two more. Along the way, everybody asked how much he weighed.
But Jackson says he’s just like everybody else.
“I eat three meals a day,” he said. “Breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
Welcome to the NFL’s body beautiful.
Permalink | Comments (80) | Categories: Falcons / NFL, Jeff Schultz
Stating the obvious: It’s over.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Mark Bradley
For the last three weeks I’ve had a magic number in mind. If the Braves ever fell seven games back in the wild-card race, that would be tantamount to elimination. (In my mind, and perhaps in theirs.) Well, they still haven’t dropped quite so far as to meet my benchmark — they’re 6 1/2 behind Cincinnati — but I’m calling this one. It’s over.
I know, I know. It’s been over for months, really, but the Braves kept making noises about the number of games they had remaining against sub-.500 teams and the potential of getting back in the race with one massive homestand. But when you lose a series at home against the league’s worst team at a time when nothing less than a sweep would suffice, you’re finished.
Seventeen days ago Jeff Francoeur said, “We’ll know something in a couple of weeks.” The Braves were then 5 1/2 games behind. They’ve since gone 8-8 and, rather than gain ground, have lost it. After 126 games they’re still eight games below .500.
Forget the Reds for the moment. The Braves are now five games behind the Phillies, who essentially gave up on their season when they traded Bobby Abreu and Cory Lidle. If you can’t overtake a team that’s essentially playing for next year, there’s no hope for this year.
Ergo, it’s over. We’ve all known as much all along, but after losing two straight to the Pirates we really know it now. And so, I feel certain, do the Braves.
Permalink | Comments (227) | Categories: Mark Bradley, Quick Hit
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