Saturday, April 29, 2006

The Eckstein Effect

I had another deep thought at Busch Stadium Monday night. You know, we've been told recently-- and often-- that the current era of baseball will now forever be defined as 'The Steroid Era.' Home run and slugging tallies since the mid-'90s will have de facto asterisks even if the sport's commissioner, as expected, chooses not to apply real ones. Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Jason Giambi, Jose Canseco, Sammy Sosa, Gary Sheffield, Ken Caminiti and Rafael Palmeiro will be only a few sluggers whose legacies, right or wrong, will be forever entwined with chemists and pushers peripheral to the game.

But some of us have been arguing from the beginning that other factors in the game have had much greater impact on the comparative statistics across generations of play that make baseball so unique among its peers. Ballparks are more intimate again for the fans, as they were from the game's genesis up until the early 1960s. Fences were moved closer to home plate in recent years, not just in from the outfield but in foul territory, detracting from what was once a pitcher's favorite spot in the ballpark. The balls are clearly harder than they've ever been, and I suspect we can trace that change directly to the specific point in the 1990s when Puerto Rican women were replaced on baseball assembly lines by machines that naturally wound the thread tighter. (Anyone who's tried to remove a car tire that was fastened with a drill rather than a mechanic's bare hands can vouch that these machines mean business.)

Pitchers, meanwhile, have largely abandoned the big overhand curveball in favor of a more level-- and therefore, dangerous-- breaking pitch called the slider. The strike zone grew significantly smaller for a time, and I'm surprised that experts so rarely refer to official scorers' drastic reduction in the issuance of fielding errors since the 1980s. That particular change hasn't led to more home runs, but it's naturally served to increase batting, slugging, and earned run averages.

My point, at last, is not that a Bonds or Canseco is most symbolic of the era. Home run hitters hit home runs. Always have and will. Their names have been linked to steroids, and so these other more crucial elements of our time will wind up factoring very little into their legacies. That's why the microcosmic player of our time is Cardinals' shortstop David Eckstein. And Mr. Eckstein, I assure you, has never used a steroid in his life.

Eckstein is listed as five feet, six inches tall and 170 pounds, which must be soaking wet, because I'm lithe at 170, and nearly half a foot taller. He throws the ball from the hole at short with all the strength of a Pony Leaguer, and with the distance of an Olympic shot-putter. He doesn't employ an uppercut swing at the plate, and only rarely cheats in the count or on the first pitch to try and pull one into the seats straight down the left field line. Yet, last year, he hit eight home runs, and that only tied his career high. Hall-of-Famer Ozzie Smith was the same kind of offensive player. He had a similar career batting average on the same team playing the same position, and actually had more hits for extra bases. But he hit a total of 28 home runs throughout his entire 19-year career. Eckstein has already hit 26, just a month into his sixth season.

I contend that it is not steroids at all, but a combination of these other factors that has caused the current offensive explosion in baseball, and with more home run records crashing down this month amidst strict Congress-approved drug testing, it's time to relegate the steroid hype to the ash heap of debate.

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You look like a fella that needs an update on the Great Pujols. He tied the Major League record for homers in April last night with number 13, and is on pace for a season total of 91. At first base, Pujols is being singled out in a new book called "The Fielding Bible," published by Baseballinfosolutions.com. The website credits Albert the Great with 42 "saves" on errant throws to first in 2005. The Cubs' Derrek Lee comes in a distant second with 23. And Lelands Auction House in New York is auctioning off the first Cardinals' home run at the new Busch Stadium (struck by Pujols) beginning on May 8th. The opening bid is $5,000.

Baseball's All-Star Voting began yesterday, and just a reminder that the fact it begins so early in the season means it's designed to reward the great consistent players and stars of the game, not the half season wonders. (Hint on behalf of the game's 2006 TV ratings: Maybe it's best not to have another All-Star Game without Derek Jeter.) Let's stuff the box and see if we can't help Phat Albert break the all-time voting record. Future Hall-of-Famer Scott Rolen and the sabermetricians' CFer of the decade, Jim Edmonds, are still winning choices at their respective positions, and don't forget also that David Eckstein is the microcosmic player of his time.

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I've got another great blogsite for you. Ken Levine must be having a wonderful life. Not only has he been a radio and television broadcaster for the Orioles, Mariners, and Padres, he's written and directed television scripts for the likes of "M*A*S*H," "Cheers," "Wings," "The Simpsons," "Frasier," and "Everybody Loves Raymond." He wrote 37 episodes of "Cheers," including my all-time favorite in which Cliff was a contestant on "Jeopardy," as well as the minor league mascot episode of "The Simpsons" entitled "Dancin' Homer."

1 Comments:

At 7:01 PM, Blogger Unknown said...

Rolen is no All-Star. He only plays every other day. I'll assume - based on your All Star theory - that you'll also be voting for Ken Griffey Jr. Since he's the most obvious future Hall of Famer among National League outfielders, I'll be expecting you to pencil him as an All Star every single year.

Jim Edmonds shouldn't even be allowed to watch the All Star game. If Pujols wasn't in that lineup the Cardinals would be getting shut out three times a week.

Your theory about steroids and the other factors that have led to more homeruns is very good but let's not use it to elevate Eckstein to being somehow more than he is. I'll be awaiting your glowing treatise about Adam Everett.

 

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