Zack Greinke pitched well this season. At first blush, his ERA does not suggest that to be the case. A 4.23 figure is more than two runs higher than his impossible to replicate 2.16 ERA from 2009. He won only nine games and lost 14. Although he has one start remaining, he will finish at least seven innings shy of his 2009 season tally. Our WAR metric values Greinke at five wins this season. In 2008, he posted a 4.9 WAR and last year he nearly captured the sum of the two seasons with a 9.4 WAR. Clearly, 2009 will be the pinnacle of Greinke’s pitching career.

If you go by WAR, Greinke is the fourth best pitcher over the last three seasons, ahead of CC Sabathia, Justin Verlander, Jon Lester, and everyone without the surnames Halladay, Lincecum, and Lee. Of course, that’s a tad unfair given the whole amazing 2009 season thing. This season, his WAR is higher than David Price’s. Higher than Sabathia’s. Higher than all American League pitchers save a select few.

He will not receive consideration in the AL Cy Young voting and… well, whatever. He already has one of those trophies anyways. The weirdest aspect about Grenke’s stats extends beyond his WAR, his FIP, his ERA, and into his BABIP. Over the last four seasons – five, if you count the six innings he pitched in 2006 – Greinke’s BABIP has remained painstakingly similar:

2007: .316
2008: .318
2009: .313
2010: .316

Greinke is primarily a groundball pitcher nowadays and, as such, his infield defense should be taken into consideration. That’s the interesting part, because you would think with a high level of turnover (of players with 50 or more innings on the defensive infield in 2007, only Alex Gordon and Mike Aviles remain with the team) something would’ve clicked – either good or bad – with Greinke’s BABIP. Even with a historically great 2009 – as illustrated above – Greinke’s BABIP was right there with a decent 2007.

I have no idea if this pattern will hold true heading forward, but part of me hopes it does for curiosity’s sake.

The San Francisco Giants begin their second-to-last regular season series tonight. The opposition is the Arizona Diamondbacks and the series precedes the biggest series of the season – three games against the San Diego Padres (whom they currently hold a one game lead on) that might very well decide who advances to the postseason and who does not. Today, the Giants swapped Madison Bumgarner and Tim Lincecum’s starting assignments.

Lincecum will now pitch on Wednesday night while Bumgarner assumes his spot on Thursday. The move keeps Lincecum on full rest and allows him to pitch on Monday if required. Monday is important, as it would be day of a hypothetical game 163 – i.e. a tiebreaker between (presumably) the Giants and Padres. On the other hand, if the Giants find themselves needing to win on Sunday in order to reach the postseason, then Lincecum could come back on short rest in order to ensure their best chance at victory.

Pushing Lincecum back one day, in order to start on Friday night, might seem like an attractive alternative, but clearly, the key here is squeezing two more Lincecum appearances into the season. The Giants will not throw slop against the Padres, either, since their rotation members not named Tim are having an amazing month as well. Assuming no further changes, Barry Zito will open the series against the Friars, with the ever impressive Matt Cain going on Saturday, and then Jonathan Sanchez closing the regular season.

The Padres, meanwhile, will counter with Clayton Richard against Zito, Tim Stauffer, and staff ace Mat Latos going on Sunday. Chris Young would be in line for Monday’s start, if it comes down to that, although one would have to believe Jon Garland would get the call instead. While their ERA are nearly identical (Lincecum sits at 3.51, Garland at 3.58) the Giants would have the edge there, as Lincecum’s 3.24 xFIP is considerably superior to Garland’s 4.42.

Without any inside knowledge about Pedro Feliciano’s personality or attitude toward New York, I have to imagine he is thrilled to be nearing free agency. That’s because over the last few seasons Feliciano has received fewer days off than the postal service. If he goes to another team, maybe he’ll be able to relax every once and a while.

Drafted by the Dodgers in 1995, the 31st round pick never appeared in the majors before signing with the Reds as a minor league free agent in 2001. Almost a year later, the Reds sent Feliciano to the Mets in a trade that also saw Brady Clark and Shawn Estes moved. Feliciano made his major league debut weeks later but the Mets placed him on waivers nearly three months to the day of acquiring him. The Tigers won the claim and then released him at the three-month anniversary too.

The Mets signed Feliciano once more and he made 23 appearances for them as a 26-year-old. After 2004, in which he saw 22 games but only 18 innings, the organization sold him to a team in Japan. Feliciano returned to the Big Apple in 2006, again with the Mets, and he has averaged 68 appearances per season since. It’s not just that Feliciano showed a rubber arm in one season either. His outings totals have increased in each subsequent season, although his innings pitched have not correlated perfectly.

His next appearance will mark a single season high 89th and that’s during a lost campaign for the Mets. One can only wonder if Jerry Manuel would flick his left wrist for Feliciano 100 times if it meant trying to keep up in a heated divisional race. Yet, Feliciano has been there each time, even though it’s meant zero days rest on 42 occasions.

One thing left unnoted is that Feliciano throws with his left arm. In his excellent book, Diamond Dollars, Vince Gennaro suggested that left-handed pitchers receive more pay than righties on the free agent market. I am unsure if that goes for relievers as well as starters, but Feliciano’s career .278 on-base percentage against same handed batters makes him a LOOGY delight. His numbers against righties the last few years suggest he’s probably best off facing lefties, which make his platoon numbers in 2007 look a bit weird.

Season – Percentage of Plate Appearances Versus LHB
2006 – 50%
2007 – 41%
2008 – 50%
2009 – 64%
2010 – 50%

Feliciano is in the midst of a career best season. If Manuel somehow returns as Mets’ manager, you have to think he’d want him back. If not because he’s good, just because he knows his name. Otherwise, some team in need of a left-handed set-up man will probably give Feliciano a multiple year deal and bank off his ability to stay healthy and active.

Mark Reynolds’ skill set is one of the most combustible in the majors and this season he busted more than he boomed. That Kevin Towers is supposedly looking to shear some strikeouts from his new roster means Reynolds is almost certainly on the market. Those familiar with Towers’ dealings, like Padres fan Marc Normandin, suggested as much moments after Towers took over. If such presage comes to fruition, then we should witness one of the most interesting trades in recent memory.

The 26-year-old third baseman is due $5 million next season and is under team control through the 2013 season at a cost of roughly $23.5 million. Towers’ trade partner may only be concerned with the next season or two if acquiring Reynolds to push his team over the top, but assume that Reynolds’ performance over the duration of the deal is under the microscope. What are we to make of his prospects?

Reynolds fans a lot. In 2007, he broke onto the scene striking out 35.2% of the time. That number has increased in each subsequent season (now up to 41.9%) and even those who refuse to trust trends over weighted averages have to admit the roof on Reynolds’ strikeouts sits uncomfortably high, even in an era where high-power, strikeout-heavy hitters are romanticized more than ever before.

Finding a comparable is difficult. Dave Kingman struck out a lot, but as much as Reynolds has over such an established length of time. Adam Dunn strikes out a lot and yet his career average (32%) would represent a career-low for Reynolds. Rob Deer might be the truest comparison and his career took the form of a downward spiral after turning 27.

How do other teams evaluate Reynolds? Do any teams view Reynolds as Dunn with fewer walkways and more holes in the wall? Does any team hold a belief that their hitting coaches and instructors could work tirelessly with him and curb his hackitude? Do they view him as a two-win player with four-win potential, or as something more with league-average downside?

There is a lot of risk involved in each aspect of a Reynolds’ deal. The acquiring team risks Reynolds flaming out while on their payroll. Without knowing the suitors or the asking price, the opportunity cost does not lend itself easily to speculation.

The aforementioned Normandin – who knows Towers’ tendencies about as well as anyone in the analytical community – suggests that Towers would probably take a stack of arms the other organization considers disposable. Think the Jake Peavy deal, which lifted a burdensome contract from San Diego’s books while allotting four usable arms into the system.

Towers runs the risk of angering the portion of his new fan base with their minds on home runs and runs batted in, while also placating those with phobia of strikeouts. To complicate manners, Towers has no obvious heirs in his cabinet and a parched free agent class presents few temptations. There’s a chance the D-Backs could run with filler at third base next year which means they would probably want at least one player near the majors in order to avoid a total public relations meltdown if/when the new third baseman failed to lace up Reynolds’ offensive boots.

Occasionally a trade becomes a microcosm for the player involved. This is one of those cases, as a Reynolds’ deal stands a good chance of becoming a homer or a strikeout.

The Rays will clinch a playoff berth over the next few days. Mathematical probability and countless simulation engines prepared me for the day a month ago. The appearance will be their second postseason berth and, with it, my second October with real rooting interests. The importance of this October to the franchise’s future cannot be understated and as such, I will not state it at all in this piece. Instead, I want to delve into the playoff atmosphere itself.

Every franchise in this tournament has playoff experience at some point or another. There are new fans who have never experienced it before and those are the ones I write to, and if I do my job correctly, veterans of the battles can sit back and nod their heads in agreement. How is this going to feel? What should I anticipate? Are the rumors about ballyhooed levels of tension about playoff games legitimate?

From my experiences, those rumors are correct. These games play by different rules. Rules that expressly state results as the king, prince, jester, and maybe the queen too. You can be the better team and play better baseball, but if the breaks go against you, then the series can too. Danger is always on a game’s breath. Ask me about playoff meltdowns, I will point to game five of the 2008 American League Championship Series. Ask me about believing that my team will break my heart and I can point you to the dark night following game six. Ask me about exuberant triumph and unshackling emotion and I will point to the celebration after game seven, in which Carl Crawford’s reaction will live on in my heart and soul well after he moves on to his next team.

It is the way of the stage, of the presentation, of everyone knowing that this could be the final series of the year — hell, knowing that this will be the final series of the season – and of knowing that many fans are watching. I have never felt more self-conscious about my favorite players than I did during the World Series run. Did folks think any less of Evan Longoria and Carlos Pena because of their ill-timed slumps? Is everyone convinced that B.J. Upton cares and can play this game? Will J.P. Howell get props or will he continue to live under the shadow of bullpen by committee scorn and distaste? Will the broadcast ever utter the name Andrew Friedman and attribute the success to him too, or are Chuck LaMar and Joe Maddon the only names known?

Some of that is admittedly petty and me being overly attentive, but that is what you can expect starting next week. All of the lights and adrenaline and emotions will flow through you and occasionally shock you like electricity. The buzz will stick to your veins throughout a game day and off-days are both, 1) a nice (if brief) reprieve from the pressures of enthrallment, and 2) a reminder that this is what death encompasses.

I will refrain from calling the playoff experience a drug, even if that means I cannot address Yankees fans as addicts or the Pirates fan base as straight edge. Instead, the best simile I have is this: it’s like placing a compression sleeve on your heart. It will feel tight and awkward for a while, but at its best  it will come as a revolution.

When the Washington Nationals traded Ryan Langerhans to the Seattle Mariners for Mike Morse, the court of public opinion ruled the Mariners as the immediate victors. Morse was nothing more than a bump on the organizational log. A shortstop without defensive ability is a fancy way of saying a player of any other position without offensive competence. Langerhans held the leather and some wood too, but was stricken with no playing time. He caught the baseball as often as the pine or minor league bus.

The Nationals’ decision against playing Langerhans acted as another trace in their breaths of incompetence. Yet, Langerhans’ career with the Mariners has been no different. Maybe it is not a surprise that Morse has 13 more plate appearances in 2010 than Langerhans as a Mariner. It is a surprise, however, that Morse has played so well this season. Not just in comparison to Langerhans either.

One glance at Morse’s line and he’s got it all. A .300 batting average, an on-base percentage near .360, a slugging percentage of .529 oozes pizzazz. The difference is not an increase in batted average on balls in play (although .343 remains well above league average) nor even a change in ratios like walk rate (7.2% this season versus 6.6% for his previous seasons) or strikeout rate (21.3% this season versus 20.7% career). Instead, Morse’s .380 wOBA is engaged to his .229 ISO and 38% of his hits this season have gone for extra bases, whereas only 27% of his hits entering this year racked up multiple bases.

Expectations for power gain at age 28 exist. Morse’s six-foot-five frame supports the idea too. Whether this level of power is sustainable or not is anyone’s guess. I have inhibitions about saying it is because Morse having a similar ISO to Ryan Howard on a single season basis just feels wrong. His minor league seasons never included quite this much pop and neither have his major league counterparts besides 55 plate appearances worth last year.

Some players do just get better. Maybe Morse is one of those players.

Never take the talent of Major League ballplayers for granted. Some players put up poor statistics or look overmatched and yet they are still better than but a fraction of the playing-world’s population. That’s how crazy this game is. The most horrific and heart-bending scene is when a player loses it – ‘it’ being any resemblance of a grip on his talent – during a game. Right there, naked in front of the world.

I’m not sure that Javier Vazquez lost it last night, but he forced the issue. He settled down and his final line looks respectable: three innings, one hit, two earned runs, two walks, three strikeouts, and the highlighted number in the column: three hit batsmen. During his first inning, Vazquez was straight-up pyridine, possessing flammable and odorous qualities reserved for a colorless liquid, like the sweat beads dripping down his face and stinging his vision.

Trailing by six in the seventh inning, the Yankees held a win expectancy under 5% when Vazquez entered. He walked Ben Zobrist on six pitches- not an unusual result. He then hit Desmond Jennings’ numbers with an erred curveball. Willy Aybar would then take a ball to the shin to load the bases. A pitch later, a blundering curve that never stood a chance of crossing the plate hit Kelly Shoppach in the upper back. Just like that, a run scored.

At that moment, the television cameras began to focus on Jay Z leaving the stadium. The image of which caused a startling juxtaposition between the humored, if not enthralled, rap mogul and the enthralled, if not humored, mound gull. Dan Johnson took advantage of Vazquez’s misfortune with a sac fly into right field, allowing a runner to score. B.J. Upton walked, and then, well, then Vazquez did something completely unexpected. Recorded an out, yes, but via strikeout. Carl Crawford followed with a catchable flyball to right field.

Vazquez headed off to regain his breath and spirit after avoiding a complete meltdown.

Being National League baseball fan means being a fan of tradition. Of legacy. Of sepia-toned halcyon days of lore. And being a barbaric sadist obsessed with watching pitchers fail at batting. The good news for N.L. fans (or perhaps bad, if they really are sadists) is that they can brag to their elitist American League counterparts about having the best shortstops in the land.

Hanley Ramirez and Troy Tulowitzki play the role of Shortstop #1 and #2. If you go by offensive numbers of shortstops with 250+ plate appearances, then Rafael Furcal and Stephen Drew are the next two, with Jose Reyes, Alex Gonzalez, Starlin Castro, Jamey Carroll (clearly he’s hit decently while playing short), and Ian Desmond making up the top nine. The American League’s first entry comes at 10, with Alexei Ramirez.

The leagues alternate over the next few positions as such:

Jimmy Rollins .319
Derek Jeter .318
Edgar Renteria .317
J.J. Hardy .317
Marco Scutaro .316
Juan Uribe .315
Reid Brignac .314

It takes 17 shortstops to find five American Leaguers. Since those numbers are not adjusted for league or park there is some reason to believe the exact order might differ here or there. Defense and baserunning also come into play. WAR has Ramirez, Cliff Pennington, Hardy, and double agent Yunel Escobar placing in far more respectable slots.

The balance of power at any position should be nothing more than a cyclical process. For instance, 2005 (a random year I selected) had six of the top 10 shortstops (via WAR) residing in the American League. Another random year, 2002, had seven ALers in the top 10. That is to say, don’t confuse this for some grandstanding analysis about how National League teams evaluate shortstop talent better. It’s just their time, and boy, are they ever making the most of it.

Earlier today, I documented the rotations with average fastballs quicker than their pen pals. Since the inspiration came from thinking about Tim Wakefield handing the ball off to Daniel Bard, then it only feels right to flip the tables and look at the bullpens that really, really throw harder than their rotations. Note: for my purposes, “really, really” means at least three miles per hour. These numbers came from the team leaderboards and the only math done is subtracting the rotation’s velocity from the bullpen’s velocity. As you can imagine, those numbers came out positive, so no adjustment necessary.

Nationals 3.4 MPH

A little surprising because Stephen Strasburg torched catcher leather before his shoulder robotics gave out, but remember that Livan Hernandez resides here. As does Drew Storen (and so there too did Brian Bruney for a limited time and Matt Capps), and with no disrespect intended towards Storen or those other hard throwers in the pen, allow me to share the real culprit here. You see, the Nationals have had 10 pitchers start games for them this season that hold average fastballs under 90 MPH. Think about that, really, just think about that. How many teams have used 10 starters this season? How many have had, say, three starters with velocity that low? Five? Nine? Double digits? I do not know how that stacks up relative to other teams or historically, but that seems like a lot to me.

Giants 3.5 MPH

This can be described pretty easily: it’s all Barry Zito’s fault. Zito is one of the most scorned players in the league (in large part for his own rational decision making) and as such I tend to avoid cracking on him, but even I have to admit I laughed at Marc Normandin’s quote entrenched in this article. Funny is funny. Sorry, Barry.

White Sox 4.3 MPH

Not much about Kenny Williams is predictable. When most think he’s going left, he darts right. When folks expect him to sit, he stands. When they say jump, he hovers lightly over the surface. But one thing that is entirely predictable is what kind of bullpen arm the White Sox will add whenever possible. The only requirement is to throw hard. Call them the anti-Nationals because the White Sox currently have five different relievers with heaters averaging over 95 MPH and three more over 94.

The glorious juxtaposition of the Red Sox starting Tim Wakefield and relieving him with Daniel Bard or Manny Delcarmen was never lost on me. Moving from a pitcher with an unplugged heater to a live arm with a fireworks shooter attached in place of a right arm is one of the weirdest sights around. How hitters manage to adjust in such a quick manner is a testament to their talents. Are there any teams that go from Bards to Wakefields though? The very thought of which drove me to find out just which rotations throw harder than their pen friends.

As it turns out, they do exist, all three of ‘em root from newly minted franchises. Allow me to procrastinate before introducing the results by hand-waving the usual caveats associated with pitch speed data. My hope is that since all comparisons are inner-team, most of the noise from pitching in different ballparks and with various pitch scorers cease to be an issue. For more information on just how much velocity readings can vary by park, I highly encourage Mike Fast’s piece here. Tom Tango left an interesting comment that sort of applies here, too; you’ll see why almost immediately.

To the methodology. I simply went to the team leaderboards and pulled the average fastball velocity for each team’s rotation and bullpen, then subtracted the rotation velocity from the bullpen velocity. The numbers in this post originally came out as negatives, but I absolute-valued those mothers so as to make everyone more comfortable. To the results.

Marlins: 0.6 MPH

Josh Johnson throws hard (94.9 MPH). So hard that he leads the Marlins among qualified pitchers in velocity, just ahead of a number of bullpen arms, like Jose Veras (94.3), Leo Nunez (94.0), and Tim Wood (92.9). So, how then is the Marlins’ rotation tossing hotter pebbles than their pen? Because of Nate Robertson (87.8), Brian Sanches (88.4), Clay Hensley (88.6), and Burke Badenhop (88.7). The rest of the Marlins’ starters are consistent in their heat, sitting between 92 and 91 MPH.

Rockies: 0.7 MPH

Ubaldo Jimenez (96.2), Esmil Rogers (94.4), Jorge de la Rosa (93.4), and Jason Hammel (93.1) make this one easy to understand. Outside of Franklin Morales (94.4), no other reliever with at least 30 innings pitched would top any of those aforementioned starters. One can only contemplate how different the figure would be without Greg Smith (86), Jeff Francis (87.2), and Aaron Cook (89.5) weighing down the rotation’s average velocity.

Rays: 1.6 MPH

I should have known the team I am most familiar with would lead the league. David Price (94.6) and Matt Garza (93.3) feature two of the most explosive fastballs in the league. The bullpen, meanwhile, consists of an army of feather ticklers: Andy Sonnanstine (86.6) and Lance Cormier (88.6) who rack up pitches and mop up innings alike, as well as the interchangeable set-up specialists Randy Choate (87.2) and Dan Wheeler (88.6). Joaquin Benoit (94), Rafael Soriano (92.9), and Grant Balfour (92.7) do their best to make opposing batters feel the heat rise during the final frame.

Later, the teams with bullpens that significantly overpower their rotations.