OK, my father was a lot of things, most of them nice, others not-so-much. But in my head, he was the world's foremost expert on baseball, specfically baseball as it was played during the period from about 1955, through the late 1960's. Others might dispute that (many others), but my brother and I both know the truth. There might be other people that knew more about the game in general; contracts, racial integration, day-to-day goings-on, etc... but nobody ever knew more about the type of baseball being played on the field at the time, or the players from that era. The man has obviously been obsessed. (Something which he passed along to his children.)
With that established, let's set the back-drop:
I was 11 years old, living in upstate NY, the Mets were in the World Series, and Darryl Strawberry had the audacity to strike out with runners on base. My dad went nuts. I'm talking whoo-whoo za-za type of nuts. Shoe through the televsion nuts. F'ing crazy.
Darryl was a huge sore-point for my father. HUGE. Darryl represented everything that he hated in a ballplayer: he was immensely talented, but unmotivated. He didn't run out pop-ups or weak grounders, treated fly balls as if they were live grenades, and had a great arm, but reguarly missed the cut-off man. He was loved by fans, but consistently acted both petulant and spoiled. He often referred to Darryl as "a waste of chromosomes", and could barely stand to watch him hit. But the thing that dad hated the most about Darryl was simple: strikeouts.
Dad hated strikeouts. He was introduced to baseball at a time when the strikeout was considered an act of weakness on the part of the hitter; if someone struck out more than 100 times a year, they were an absolute bum (I'm quoting, here). Mark Reynolds would've given him a coronary, no doubt about it.
So when Darryl struck out and my father went insane, I did what kids all over the world have done for centuries when their parents got irrationally (scarily) angry - I tried to defuse the situation, and changed the subject:
"Don't worry about it, dad. There's only one out. And Carter is coming up! Darryl's a bum, I know. But at least he doesn't strike out as much as Stanley Jefferson!"
Stanley Jefferson was a running joke in our house, because he struck out in about 1/3 of his plate appearances. He had gotten called up earlier than year, and looked completely overmatched as a hitter (but the next year he got traded for one of dad's favorite players - Kevin McReynolds. WHY he liked McReynolds is a story for another day). Jefferson's only redeeming value, in my father's eyes, was his speed; dad loved speed. I was sure that referencing Stanley would successfully shift the conversation, and allow us to continue watching the ballgame... I was sort of right:
"Jefferson? Jefferson!??! BAHHH! At least f'ing Jefferson is an f'ing leadoff hitter. It doesn't f'ing matter if those guys strikeout, anyway!"
This sort of freaked me out. Honestly. It changed my world-view. My dad saying it didn't matter if someone struck out? This is the guy who taught me to choke up three inches on the bat, just so I wouldn't fan and embarrass myself, and he wouldn't have to assault the umpire. What the hell was going on? He explained. To this day, I carry this around with me:
"It doesn't matter if a leadoff hitter strikes out, because he's never coming up wth men on base. In 1/4 of his at-bats, he's leading off the game. In all the rest of them, he's had the pitcher and the #8 hitter batting in front of him, and THOSE guys sure as hell aren't setting the table for him. Do you know how BAD you have to be to hit #8 in a national league lineup? That's where guys like Rafael Santana hit. Even if one of those guys gets on, there's going to be two outs when the leadoff hitter comes up. Who gives a crap if you strike out when there's two outs?"
"Nope, if you're going to strike out, then being a leadoff hitter is as good a place as any... DID CARTER JUST STRIKE OUT TOO? I can't believe these F'ing guys!..."
So this morning, when I read this article about who was going to hit leadoff for the Reds, Drew Stubbs or Brandon Phillips, this jumped right out at me:
"In a perfect world, Stubbs would represent more of an ideal leadoff man because of his speed. Last season, he had 30 steals and was caught just six times. In 155 games, the 26-year-old batted .255 with 22 homers, 77 RBIs, 55 walks and a .329 on-base percentage. The numbers that don't benefit the Reds to have Stubbs lead off are his 168 strikeouts and only three sacrifice bunts."
OK, so tell me this: given all of the above (the story, the emotional connection between father and son, the Stanley Jefferson and Darryl Strwaberry anecdotes, and dad's strangely rationale explanation for why strikeouts don't matter for leadoff hitters), then why the heck is someone making the ridiculous argument that Stubbs isn't suited to leadoff because of his strikeouts and inability to sacrifice bunt?
I'm not even touching the sac bunt thing. How often do you see a leadoff hitter, your best OBP guy, giving himself up to sacrifice a runner (usually the pitcher or the #8 hitter) to second base? Once or twice a year, late in a tight ballgame? MAYBE? It makes no freaking sense to even mention that as a criteria.
As for discounting Drew Stubbs because of the strikeouts, I'll let me father's explanation stand alone. If you want another reason, try his .328 career OBP. It's well below league average, and it makes no sense to give a guy who gets on base that infrequently the opportunity to make more outs than he already does. Hit him 6th, so that his speed gives the #7 hitter an opportunity to drive him in, and he still hits high enough in the order to get RBI opportunities that leverage his power.
If more people just heeded the wisdom of the late Mark Nolan, I wouldn't have to spend 30 minutes writing about stuff like this... sheesh.
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