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I woke up Tuesday morning to the bleary delight of an Emil Brown/Frosted Flakes double shot. Real, bona fide, statistics-count baseball! Plus the not-at-all-melon-headed Ann Curry during commercial breaks! Yeah! Today is a glorious time to be semiconscious.
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| Joe Borowski again claims his own award. (Getty Images) |
Cutting right to the chase, then, here is the annual list of roto personas and the players who will embody them during 2008. Enjoy the déjà vu, y'all.
The Mark Prior (wishful thinking): A bold prediction: Ryan Theriot will be one of baseball's best shortstops in 2008 if he develops some power and learns to lay off crappy breaking pitches and stops running the bases as if blindfolded and increases his range at shortstop. To sum up: If Ryan Theriot becomes the precise opposite of Ryan Theriot, he'll be awesome.
Meanwhile, for whatever little this is worth, an acquaintance called last week to note, without giggling or crossing his fingers behind his back, that "Prior has been snapping off some incredible curves" in Padres camp. Yes, of course he has. You first.
The Edgardo Alfonzo (post-hype revival after first-year disappointment): Imagine how much of a clubhouse pain in the ass Lastings Milledge must've been to prompt the Metsies to trade him for two scrubby regulars, especially given the team's fragility concerns in the outfield. I'm guessing the trade was necessitated by a hushed-up incident involving Billy Wagner, two tins of chaw and a Young Jeezy CD. Either way, there's 25/25 potential here.
The Darren Dreifort (the perpetually stubbed pinky toe/papier-mâché ulnar ligament DL candidate): The Rays, who no longer worship Satan or stomp around to the strains of Slipknot, have already announced that Scott Kazmir won't be ready on opening day. They've handled him daintily -- contrast his treatment with that of Tom Gorzelanny, who threw a bunch of meaningless September innings last season and now can't tie his shoes without wincing -- but Kazmir still seems like a candidate to be playing long catch until mid-May. James Shields and Matt Garza are better short-term bets.
The Don Mattingly After 1989 (worst expenditure of a first-round draft pick): Several years ago, a friend and I were so paranoid about disclosing our roto obsession with Jake Peavy that we only referred to him as "the eagle." Since then, he has provided us with many mirthful hours of trolling late-night box scores. "Peavy" is a viable candidate for the name of my first child.
After everything broke just right for him in 2007, though, I worry -- less about Peavy than about the team around him. The defensive downgrade in centerfield from Mike Cameron (he of the loping gait) to Jim Edmonds (and his insistence on making easy plays look difficult) matters a whole bunch, especially for a team playing 81 games in a spacious home park. Balls caught or cut off before they reached the gaps in 2007 will make their way to the wall in 2008. That alone downgrades Peavy from first-round consideration.
The Andruw Jones In 1997 (the sexy pick -- think Shakira in Caracas with maracas): There's nothing sexy about Kansas City -- well, except Kansas City Star columnist Joe Posnanski, who's better at this thing of ours than anybody on the planet. Add slugger/defensive cripple Billy Butler to that shortlist. He didn't exactly light up the roto night sky in his rookie campaign (.292/.347/.447 in 360 plate appearances), but his eight dingers were of the bow-before-our-new-offensive-overlord variety. I'm penciling Butler in as the league's best DH in 2010; I'm not biting this year unless the second-tier DHs, the Thomes/Thomases/Giambis, are already off the board.
The Fred McGriff (the unsexy pick -- think Sarah Plain and Tall reading Better Homes & Gardens while listening to John Mellencamp): In the real world, sexy sells window treatments and motorboats. In roto, sexy gets you seventh place. Just as the beyond-steady McGriff was a lock for .280/30 HRs/100 RBI during his not-quite-Hall-of-Fame career, Derrek Lee will give you batting average and the occasional power spurt, plus 10 stolen bases or so. Sometimes Chili's is better than the frou-frou bistro on the corner.
The Ben Grieve ("Jesus Christ, this #&$@in' guy can't #&$@in' play. How much more evidence do you need?"): Corey Patterson, currently sitting atop the depth chart in center field and leading off for a team managed by Dusty Baker. Let's move on.
The Joe Borowski (intelligent late-round pick): Borowski's patented brand of adventurous saves wins him his own award for the third year running, regardless of whether his fastball actually registers on radar guns. Then there's 3B/OF Bill Hall, healthy again after an ouchie 2007, batting behind a bunch of patient hitters and soon to be as positionally flexible as a cheerleader. Hoy-o!
The J.D. Drew (riskier than a solo late-night stroll in Port-au-Prince): On one hand, Miguel Tejada has enough left in his B-12-powered bat to hit 30 homers and drive in a bunch of runs, especially given the righty-friendly left-field perch at Minute Maid Park. On the other, he could be indicted within a few months and might provoke homicidal rage in the 'Stros pitchers with his rangeless play at shortstop. Personally, I don't have the stomach to draft him.
The Garrett Anderson ("so underrated, he's overrated"): For years, Michael Young was everybody's favorite below-the-radar roto runt, not to mention one of the hard-workin', self-effacin' human beings who prompted hard-minded writers to lapse into "he plays baseball the right way" ecstasy. But while Young remains a 200-hit mainstay, his power has gone the way of the manatee (24 homers in 2005, 9 in 2007). He's basically Julio Lugo with better press clippings.
The Carlos Baerga (potential for sudden premature aging): I love every non-performance-related thing about Torii Hunter. He speaks his mind. He is one of the rare baseball gazillionaires who seems to care about getting young kids, especially black ones, more interested in the game. Still, Hunter's defensive prowess is more reputation than reality at this point and his bat -- especially the .330-ish OBP -- won't be enough when he's forced to an outfield corner in a year or two. Somebody tell the Los Anaheim clubhouse guy to start looking out for, and promptly hiding, the "uh, we didn't just spend $90 million on this guy, did we?" headlines come August.
The Felix Hernandez (young turk drafted six rounds too early): Joba Chamberlain will hopefully contribute more to my week-to-week happiness over the next eight years than anything not involving a mattress or a deep fryer. For now, he's a middle reliever who won't be allowed to top 120 innings in 2008. Twenty bucks says the New York Post runs with a "Joba Drools!" headline after his first late-game implosion.
The Mark Davis (newly signed free-agent flop): There has to be a better way to tell beaten-down small-market fans "we're trying" than by spending $36 million on a swings-very-loud corner outfielder like Jose Guillen. Thirty-six million ... that's a lot of dough that might instead have been pumped into a Dominican training academy, free-agency-postponing deals for young stars like Billy Butler, or the mother of all BBQ pits in center field at Kauffman Stadium. If Guillen doesn't start hitting right away ("right away" being after he serves a 15-game steroid suspension), he'll be dismissed as a miracle of science.
The Paul O'Neill (changes of scenery are good, even if they sometimes require a visit to IKEA): I understand that Dan Haren was less than great during the second half of last season and that he has relocated to a tougher home ballpark. These are compelling points, indeedy they are, Martha. But what about the designated hitters he no longer has to face, or the possibility of five starts against the Giants? The innings, strikeouts and ERA will still be there. All things considered, Haren comes out ahead.
The Heathcliff Slocumb (change of scenery is bad, because it's hard to make new friends in middle school): The odds of Scott Rolen staying completely healthy on the Rogers Centre turf aren't as poor as you'd think. First, because he's already down with a broken finger; and second, because he doesn't have too many functional tendons or ligaments left. You can't tear, shred or distend a body part that no longer exists.
The Jose Mesa (saves in low places): I subscribe to the notion that you can get saves anywhere: From eighth-on-the-depth-chart middle relievers, between the sofa cushions, etc. It is an act of resource-depleting stupidity to overpay for a Joe Nathan or a Jonathan Papelbon (who looked positively Farnsworthian on Tuesday morning, by the way) when you'll likely get the same save numbers from Todd Jones.
Once more, with feeling: A guy who throws 70 innings per season can only impact your ERA and WHIP so much. For saves, just draft a real-world turd like Jones, Borowski or Chad Cordero, then monitor the waiver wire for this year's Jeremy Accardo (30 saves after B.J. Ryan went down last April) or Kevin Gregg (32 saves, 87 Ks in 84 innings after claiming the closer's role in May). Me, I'm patiently waiting on Kazuo Fukumori.
The Hideki Irabu (not in this lifetime): Alternately known, with all due credit to celebrity-roast god Jeffrey Ross, as the "I wouldn't blank him with Bea Arthur's blank" award. Pedro Feliz. Kaz Matsui. The Orioles' vomitous 4/5/6 triad of Millar/Huff/Scott. Any Minnesota infielder not surnamed "Morneau." The entire San Francisco franchise except Matt Cain and Tim Lincecum. Beware. Be wary.