Archive for All-Joy Team

If you’re the sort of baseball fan who’s worth his salt, you’re probably aware that, Saturday afternoon, 27-year-old rookie Daniel Nava of the Boston Red Sox hit a grand slam — not only in his first major league plate appearance, but on the very first pitch of his very first major league plate appearance.

If you’re also the sort of baseball fan who found himself reading FanGraphs back on January 21st of this year, you might remember an article I wrote singing Nava’s praises — not just for his climb out of baseballing obscurity, but also for the serviceable numbers he’d posted along the way.

As much as I enjoy saying “I told you so,” that’s not really the point of this dispatch. I mean, yeah, I did tell everybody so, but it wasn’t so much his future excellence I was predicting (nor his grand-slamming capabilities) as much as it was the potential for joy he represented to the baseball nerd.

Mission accomplished, so far as that goes.

Anyway, I’d like to use this space to discuss, very briefly, Nava’s slampiece. If you haven’t seen it already, watch it this very second.

The excellent things about this video, in order of best to still pretty great, are as follows:

1. Francona’s Reaction
Let’s be clear about this: I love my father. He’s done a lot for me and genuinely cares about me. Also, he taught me how to hit the sweet kick serve that is the calling card of the Cistulli Male. For that, I’ll always be in his debt. Thanks, Dad!

That said, were I to have been born fatherless, and were I — having been born fatherless — were I allowed to then choose from every American male between the ages, say, of 50 and 65, the one who I wanted to play the role of my father, I would choose Terry Francona.

For one thing, Francona is the God of the Post-Game Interview. I don’t have any specific moments to which I can point in support of this claim, so I’m just asking you to believe me: he is. For another thing, Francona emanates fatherly pride.

What you’ll notice about Francona in that video is the way in which — as Nava makes his way back to the dugout — the way in which he glows with paternal joy. Actually, even before Nava walks backs to the dugout, Francona is already kinda giddy. Then, as Nava approached the dugout, Francona definitely says something like “At’a boy” and then slaps Nava on the butt.

2. Nava’s Swing
Despite the fact that I’d previously championed Nava in these electronic pages, I’d done so only using the tools of the nerd (minor league numbers and equivalencies) combined with Nava’s obviously excellent backstory. What I didn’t know about is how awesome Daniel Nava’s swing is.

The main observation I have to make about it (i.e. Nava’s swing) comes in the form of a question to Joe Blanton. “Mr. Blanton,” my question begins, “between the way Nava kinda cocks the bat with his wrist, and also how straight he stands up in the batter’s box, why would you ever throw him a fastball on the inner half of the plate?”

Thanks to Pitch f/x and Brooks Baseball, we see that Blanton actually changed his approach between Nava’s plate appearances. Sort of.

First, here’s the first at-bat. It’s only one pitch:

Now, here’s the second:

I said “sort of” because, actually, Blanton first pitch in the second AB looks alot like the first pitch in the first AB. After that, though, as you can see, Blanton is basically going outside, outside, outside. And, in this case, it worked: Blanton K-ed Nava in the latter’s second PA.

3. Nerd Victory
Briefly, from that January article:

Despite the absence of anything like a draft pedigree, Nava posted an MLE of .274/.355/.407 across High-A and Double-A last year — that according to Minor League Splits. Baseball Prospectus rates his 124 Double-A ABs as a major league equivalent of .298/.374/.460 — the best in the Eastern League. The fact is that Nava has never played poorly, regardless of where he’s been.

What’s nice about those lines is how little they contain in the way of idle speculation. The the thing that nerds do best is use facts to suggest that so-and-so might be major league ready or that other so-and-so (ahem, Livan Hernandez) might currently be sporting a historically high strand rate that will soon see his ERA balloon. In other words, we the nerds prefer to utilize the sharpest tools in the proverbial shed, whatever they might be in the given situation. Nava’s numbers suggested that, despite his lack of general baseballing cred, he might be a serviceable ballplayer. Hurray for that.

The moral of the story is that any success Daniel Nava experiences is success for the whole of the human race. Is that completely overstating the case? Duh, of course. But on a sunny day in June, with the improbable surrounding us, hyperbole feels like the only reasonable mode of discourse.

As the reader will undoubtedly imagine, Carson Cistulli receives quite a bit of fan mail here at FanGraphs Headquarters. Some of it (i.e. the fan mail) is just your usual, garden variety-type stuff. “Big up yourself,” people write, or “Sweet jokes”: that sort of thing. Some of it, I’m a little embarrassed to admit, is — how do I say this exactly? — is of an intimate nature. This sort of parcel — because that’s how it arrives — frequently contains some variety of lady’s undergarment accompanied by a note that proposes, in no uncertain terms, how the author and I might pass a weekend, and in what ways, exactly, we might contort our respective bodies. I won’t say I dislike these missives, but they do challenge my modesty.

Regardless of these matters, almost all the correspondence I’ve been receiving lately has led to the same question: “When, oh when, can we expect the thrilling conclusion to the All-Joy Team?”

Right now, is my triumphant response. Just below these words.

A note before we begin: owing to the nature the five sacred criteria, the All-Joy Team is by definition, a work in progress. Just as one can neither take the blue from the sky nor put the wind in one’s own pocket, so, too, is it impossible to truly conclude the formation of the All-Joy Team.

UTIF: Zack MacPhee, Arizona State

On a recent edition of the pod, Messrs Allen, Cameron, and Smith each summarily rejected the notion that scrappy wunderkind Zack MacPhee would make even a single All-Star appearance during what I can only imagine will be a long and important Major League career.

In related news, the triumvirate also confessed to “kinda liking the Redcoats” in the American Revolution and also “not really minding the shadowy spectre of Communism.” Probably vegetarian, all of them.

Anyway, through 23 games so far this college season, the sophomore MacPhee is slashing .459/.564/.865 to go along with 9 triples, 4 homers, a BB:K of 18:8, and a stolen base record of 10/10. I believe the word you’re looking for is “Booyakasha!”

UTOF: Peter Bourrrrrrjos, Los Angeles (AL)

On account of my status around here as Semi-Reliable Copyeditor*, I have access to most of the writing you see on the site before it goes live. So one thing I know that most everyone else in the world does not is that, in an early version of Erik Manning’s celebration of Angel farmhand Bourjos, the former appended to the body of that post, “Peter! I heart you real bad! Call me: 555-1234!”

*Which reminds me: in the event that the reader happens upon any usage errors in these electronic pages, he should feel free to — instead of harrassing the author — just email me at ccistulli@yahoo.com.

A couple notes on that. First, having had to call him for pod-related reasons, I can verify that Mr. Manning’s phone number does, indeed, include a 555 exchange. This is mostly to do with the fact that Erik Manning is an imaginary person, merely one of the seven or eight pseudonyms under which Dark Overlord David Appelman conducts his business*. Second, and more relevant to this discussion, is the fact that Bourjos really is a fascinating player. Not only did he improve his plate discipline dramatically from 2008 to 2009, but — more interestingly — he appears to be one of the better glove men in all the minors.

*Nor should you discount the fact that David Appelman is, indeed, the man writing these very words.

According to his Minor League Splits page, Bourjos has been good for somewhere around 20-30 runs per 150 games each of these past three years. This year, CHONE has him projected for 11.1 runs above average in center despite only 421 plate appearances. He appears headed to Triple-A Salt Lake to begin the season.

C: Brayan Pena, Kansas City

If you’re the sort of person who both (a) ponied up $7.95 for the Second Opinion and (b) made it to the piece entitled Fringe Benefits, then you’ll know that there’s some overlap between the All-Joy Team and the players listed in that article. The reason for this is clear: the criteria for that fake team are not so different than the ones for this other, equally fake team.

As for Pena, specifically, there’s reason to believe — given both scouting reports and Matt Klaassen’s heroic efforts — that his defense is suspect, which is why I’d feel uncomfortable making him the starter for the present Team. That said, his plate discipline, rate of contact, and power would likely place him among the league’s better offensive backstops were he given a starting position. On account of he’s playing for the Royals, and on account of how that team has decided to give Jason Kendall the majority of PAs at catcher, this will very likely not be Pena’s year.

SP: Colby Lewis, Texas

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that, in certain extreme cases, the only honorable way for two virile men to resolve their differences is by means of a dance battle. That being the case, the reader might very well be seeing Marc “Prospect Maven” Hulet and Carson “America’s Sweetheart” Cistulli involved in an elaborate brand of fisticuffs before too long.

The reason for our dispute? Colby “Big in Japan” Lewis. Hulet contends that Lewis is merely a Quad-A sort whose silly K:BB numbers in the NPB (369:46 in 354.1 IP) is merely the product of inferior competition. I contend that Hulet is full of it. What “it” is, I can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t sprinkle it on my morning cereal.

In any case, CHONE calls for Lewis to post a 3.99 ERA across 167 IP this season.

SP: Gio Gonzalez, Oakland
SP: Felipe Paulino, Houston
SP: Freddy Garcia, Chicago (AL)

In case you missed it the first time, I sent a whole bunch of nerdy love letters to both of these guys’ peripheral numbers back in December. Furthermore, I intimated to every liberal American (via their online meeting den) that, were Brian Moehler to win a starting role over Felipe Paulino, I’d commit a very public suicide in protest.

Before you have time even to ask the question, “That thing about suicide he just wrote, is that decidedly sans taste?” allow me to answer immediately: yes and no. Yes, because people have actually committed very public suicides in support of actually meaningful causes. But also, no, because for Houston — a club with little hope for playoff baseball this season — for a club like that not to give a young player an extended look.

Of course, it will give us more reason to make fun of the Houston Astros. But I’m quoting myself when I say that snark isn’t an end in itself; it’s just the mode to which we resort when we are powerless to protest in any other way.

As for Garcia, he generated the highest percentage of whiffs on balls offered at outside the zone. It’d be nice to see him put a season together.

RP: R.J. Swindle, Tampa Bay

Swindle pitched at the Triple-A All-Star game last year, and struck out Colorado farmhand Jorge Padilla on a 55-mph curvepiece. That’s enough for me to hire him for LOOGY work.

Nor am I the only one who thinks so. Steve Slowinsk of D-Rays Bay is on this particular boat, as well:

At the end of the “Cult Classics” piece, I decided that Kelly Shoppach would most likely become my cult hero this season since we’ve been missing a larger-than-life swing ever since Jonny Gomes left. Somehow, though, I had completely forgotten about another player that easily climbs to the top of my “Cult Hero” meter: R.J. Swindle. We’ve discussed Swindle here on DRB before but for those unfamiliar with him, Swindle is a side-armed lefty reliever that hits 84 MPH with his fastball and 55 MPH with his curveball. While the obvious comparison to Casey Fossum (!!) can be made, Swindle is actually good.

Yeah, so it turns out that, anytime he’s pitched at least 17 innings at a particular level, Swindle has posted a FIP below 3.00. All that’s earned him is 11.1 Major League innings. Come on, people! Give both peace and R.J. Swindle a chance.

RP: Mark Lowe, Seattle
RP: Lance Cormier, Tampa Bay
RP: Burke Badenhop, Florida

Just as in real baseball, relievers are a fungible group for All-Joy consideration, too. Translation: these picks could change at the drop of a 59/50-brand baseball cap. So, instead of getting super-attached to my last two relievers, I’m just using these picks as an excuse to celebrate some sweet Pitch f/x work that Jeremy Greenhouse has been doing lately over at Baseball Analysts.

In the event that you haven’t spied with your little eye Greenhouse stuff, you should abso-frigging-lutely get yourself over there, stat. In the meantime, here’s what you need to know about it: Greenhouse, piggy-backing on some cool work by Chris Moore at the selfsame site, has been looking recently at the best pitches in baseball per Pitch f/x data. If you’re suspicious, that’s fine. I maybe was, too. But on account of the numbers confirm that All-Joyer Kevin Jepsen is awesome, I became a convert pretty quickly.

The guys I have listed — Lowe, Cormier, and Badenhop — have the most improved pitch, best cutter, and best changepiece, respectively. I’m not sure I’m burning on fire to see them this year, but this definitely raises my curiosity level.

All this brings us to a complete 25-man roster. Behold the joy:

C	Kurt Suzuki
1B	Brian Myrow
2B	Kelly Johnson
3B      Alex Gordon
SS	Ben Zobrist
LF	Chris Heisey
CF	Ryan Sweeney
RF	Daniel Nava
DH      Juan Francisco
B	Adam Rosales
B	Zack MacPhee
B	Peter Bourjjjjjjos	
B	Brayan Pena

SP	Colby Lewis
SP	Gio Gonzalez
SP	Felipe Paulino
SP	Freddy Garcia
SP	Billy Buckner 
Swing	Jason Godin
RP	Brandon League
RP	Kevin Jepsen
RP	R.J. Swindle
RP	Mark Lowe
RP	Lance Cormier
RP	Burke Badenhop

It’s neither heaven, nor Iowa: it’s the All-Joy Team!

On today’s episode: Debaucherous Hitter.

Sensical? Not entirely. Intriguing? Duh!

DH: Juan Francisco, Cincinnati

I neither subscribe to, nor am I able to advocate, that ethic described most commonly as the Work Hard, Play Hard lifestyle. Ideally, one needn’t distinguish between his work and play. Ideally, one enjoys his work to such a degree that he needn’t “play hard” so’s to — as famous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot would say — “blow off ze steams.” Obviously, this is a rare feat. To pay da billz, we’re often required to perform the tedious*. But even in such cases where one must toil grievously to bring home the bacon — or some other, similarly delicious pork product — there still oughtn’t be a need to send oneself into oblivion.

*Like wash David Appelman’s car, for example. Sheesh, that guy.

That said, there are times when unbridled hedonism is called for. There are times when it feels good to find oneself awake at 5:30 a.m., having imbibed all manner of adult sodas, musing recklessly on life, the universe, and everything. Not every weekend, obviously. (That would be trouble both for one’s liver and career prospects.) But once or twice a year, maybe, it feels good to loosen one’s collar and behave irresponsibly. There’s something cathartic about it that allows the reveler in question to return to bidness as usual after the episode (and subsequent hangover) have passed.

Juan Francisco, I will argue, is the baseballing equivalent of such a catharsis.

For the sabermetrically oriented, Juan Francisco represents basically the antithesis of an ideal batter. His approach at the plate is precisely the opposite of that one employed by most successful major league batters. Over 1982 minor league PAs, Francisco has struck out 442 times (22.3%) while walking only 72 (3.8%)*. He did sport a career-high 0.22 walk-to-strikeout ratio in 464 Double-A PAs last year, but to call that improvement is damning with the faintest of praises. In short, Francisco possesses almost nothing in the way of plate discipline, and even though he’s young, he’s got more than a couple miles to go before his hacking ways sleep.

*Let CHONE do the talking: Francisco’s projected to bat .262/.290/.467 this year.

Yet, one thing he does have is power*. And that power, combined with his recklessness, is, in some way, the reason to watch him. Is Francisco likely to be a great help to Cincinnati this season? No. Nor, were I a Reds fans, would I care to see him anywhere near the big league roster. As a neutral supporter and card-carrying member of the Fidrych Institute, though, the Reds’ win-loss record is of little concern to me. (And, seriously, Francisco poses much less a threat to the Reds’ prospects than Dusty Baker.) Really, all I care to see is Francisco. He won’t walk softly (or at all, really), but he certainly carries the big stick.

*Watch from about second 21 of this video. More than how far he hits the ball, it’s his crazy follow-through that gets me.

With Francisco, the All-Joy Team now looks as follows:

C	Kurt Suzuki
1B	Brian Myrow
2B	Kelly Johnson
3B      Alex Gordon
SS	Ben Zobrist
LF	Chris Heisey
CF	Ryan Sweeney
RF	Daniel Nava
DH      Juan Francisco
UTIF	Adam Rosales

SP	Billy Buckner
SP	Jason Godin
RP	Brandon League
RP	Kevin Jepsen

Much like Shaquille O’Neal in his prime and/or the libidos of our nation’s politicians, one can’t stop the All-Joy Team, but only hope to contain it.

Yes, we here at the Fidrych Institute (the country’s pre-eminent joy-related think tank) have had our fingers in all manner of multimedia pies recently (comme ci, commme ca), but the luminous mystery of the All-Joy Team has never been far from our minds.

To recap, in our latest episode, we’d just elected Kelly Johnson and Adam Rosales to All-Joy status, bringing the current pre-season roster to its current state:

C	Kurt Suzuki
1B	Brian Myrow
2B	Kelly Johnson
SS	Ben Zobrist
LF	Chris Heisey
CF	Ryan Sweeney
RF	Daniel Nava
UTIF	Adam Rosales

SP	Billy Buckner
SP	Jason Godin
RP	Brandon League
RP	Kevin Jepsen

The reader will notice that, with the exception of a few positional omissions, the above bears a shocking resemblance to a field-able baseball team. Exciting, is the only word for that. Now, let’s see if we can’t clean this up.

Today, you get a third baseman; tomorrow, a designated hitter.

3B: Alex Gordon, Kansas City

Basketball analyst John Hollinger has coined the term “second draft” to describe the acquisition of players who (a) have, at one point, been considered prospects, (b) have fallen from prospect status, (c) have played out the duration of their rookie contracts, but (d) are still young enough so’s to make good on their early promise. Because of the extent of control that MLB organizations exert over their players, this entire cycle can actually occur before the young player escapes his arbitration years.

The Rise and Fall and Other Rise of Alex Gordon is a bad name for a book. But I think, before his tenure in Kansas City is through, it’ll be an accurate one. Even just three years ago, Gordon was receiving Wieters-esque attention from people who know what’s what. It was in that year, 2007, that Gordon was number one overall on Kevin Goldstein’s Top 100 Prospects list, number one on John Sickels’ Top 50 Hitting Prospects list, and the second overall prospect on Baseball America’s list — behind Daisuke Matsuzaka, which is kinda cheating, seeing as the latter had already been a star for a while in Japan and was 26 years old.

In light of the hype, Gordon’s freshman campaign was a relative disappointment, although still good enough for a 2.1 WAR. In his second season, he improved his batting mark to a 109 wRC+ from the 89 wRC+ he posted in his rookie season. Even with a drop in UZR and 30 fewer PAs, he still improved his WAR to 2.4. Last year he hurt his hip early in the season, and his end-of-year numbers suffered predictably. But look here: you still have a guy with at least a league-average bat, most likely an average glove at third, and a great pedigree. He’s turning 26, which means he’s got some projection left, and CHONE likes him to post a 114 wRC+ this season with exactly league-average third-basing — good for a 2.6 WAR in only 479 PAs. Not earth-shattering, sure, but good.

Gordon does have one proverbial strike against him, in that he’s a Royal. Though I don’t know of any hard evidence to support this, there’s something to be said for organizational culture, and my sense is that — and again, I’m speculating wildly — but my sense is that some players will underperform their talent level in certain situations. Obviously, Gordon’s teammate Zack Greinke is a glaring example of the exact opposite phenomenon. But I also think of a player like Felipe Lopez, who did some interesting things in Cincinnati before moving to the uber-woeful Nationals, where he proceeded to play like Willie Bloomquist*. Then, as you probably know, Lopez was sent to St. Louis, where he once again began hitting and playing like a legitimately talented player. Ditto last year, during which he posted a career-high 4.6 WAR in stints with Arizona and Milwaukee. I’m curious as to whether the baleful effects of Kansas City’s mediocrity could affect Gordon’s ability to realize his potential so long as he’s there.

*No exaggeration here. From 2006 to 2008, Lopez had a -0.1 WAR in 1354 PAs with Washington. Over the same stretch, Bloomquist registered a 0.8 WAR in 663 Mariner PAs. You could make the argument that he was protected from certain, tougher pitchers or whatever, but still.

I don’t think I’m exaggerating, reader, when I say that the study of baseball and its attendant joys is the single most important field of research in our time. It is — as we speak — the most commonly offered and pursued doctoral degree program among our nation’s universities. Not only that, but, despite these tough economic times, those same universities are actively pursuing qualified professors to meet the large and growing demand from their undergraduate communities. The Fidrych Institute — i.e. the think tank most integral to effecting joy-related policy changes — currently receives substantial funding from Republicans, Democrats, the Green Party (who, if my numbers are correct, allocated something like 37% of their annual budget to the Institute), and Italian Premier Silvio Berlusconi, who, despite knowing almost nothing about baseball, made a generous contribution directly from the pockets of working Italians. Finally, you don’t need me to tell you that President Obama’s recent initiative to make baseballing/joy-related curriculum a greater part of elementary education — well, it’s a testament to the capacity of the subject to capture the imaginations of every man, woman, child, and whatever Mickey Rourke is.

One thing that has recently come to light from the surfeit of excellent research appearing all over the place — a potentially joy-inducing quality not covered by the Very Hallowed Taxonomy — is the effect that player movement might have on our interest in a player. Certainly, this is part of the reason we anticipate great joy from new Mariner (and All-Joy reliever) Brandon League, who has gone from being a boring old Blue Jay to one of Jack Zduriencik’s Chosen Few.

It’s probably fair to say that player movement alone isn’t enough for All-Joy consideration, but when it appears in tandem with another joy-inducing quality or two, it’s enough to inspire what Emily Dickinson called the thing with feathers (and, no, it’s not Mickey Rourke).

Here are two players who’ve changed teams this offseason, with their respective All-Joy credentials.

2B: Kelly Johnson, Arizona (2,5)
Johnson has always been on the fringes of All-Joy contention, anyway. For one, His 13% walk rate and 121 wRC+ in 2007 — from a second baseman, no less — are notable. The fact that he posted those numbers after missing all of 2006 due to Tommy John surgery makes his 2007 production even more significant. Also, there’s the fact that he made the shift to second base from left field — which, even if his second base numbers haven’t been great (-7.4 UZR/150 over the last three years), is still worthy of comment.

What has catapulted Johnson into the All-Joy spotlight entering the 2010 season? Two things, really. For one, there’s the issue of his batted ball numbers. After posting BABIPs of .330 and .344 in 2007 and 2008, that number fell to .249 in 2009. Secondly, there’s the move to Arizona’s Chase Field. According to the most recent edition of the Bill James Handbook, Turner Field has had park indices of 97 and 94 for left-handed batting average and home runs, respectively. Chase Field rates as a 103 and 115 in the same categories. The likelihood of Johnson hitting something like 2007’s 16 home runs is pretty good, I think.

UTIF: Adam Rosales, Oakland (2,4,5)
As a 26-year-old in the International League last year, Rosales posted an MLE either of .297/.347/.505 (Minor League Splits) or .309/.373/.573 (Baseball Prospectus), depending on who you believe. A certain type of reader might cite the paucity of plate appearances (125) and cite sample size issue. To which gesture I’d reply: “Stop it with your Tyranny of Reason!”

CHONE projects Rosales to have something like a league-average bat, and, provided that TotalZone isn’t a lying liarface from Liarville, it appears as though Rosales can handle shortstop. Now that he’s in Oakland, the chances of him securing some playing time have probably improved. Yeah, he’ll still be a back-up at short and second, but at least he’ll be the primary back-up. That was less the case in Cincy, where he had Paul Janish sticking around and the specter of Dusty Baker with which to contend.

For those keeping score at home, here’s the current All-Joy Roster:

C	Kurt Suzuki
1B	Brian Myrow
2B	Kelly Johnson
SS	Ben Zobrist
LF	Chris Heisey
CF	Ryan Sweeney
RF	Daniel Nava
UTIF	Adam Rosales

SP	Billy Buckner
SP	Jason Godin
RP	Brandon League
RP	Kevin Jepsen

To begin this week’s episode of All-Joy Team — i.e. the show that everyone’s talking about — let’s take a look at a photo that I’ve almost definitely figured out how to insert just below these words.

What do we notice here? A couple things, I’d say. For one, that Tommy Hilfiger recognizes the dignity of all races and genders as long as the people belonging to said races and/or genders are incredibly attractive. For two — and probably more relevant to our present concern — is that the people in this picture are having a laugh-riot of a good time.

There are a couple reasons why that might be. My guess is that the guy in the middle there, with the big, weird white X on his chest, made a goofy noise or something. It’s probably not the sorta thing that you or I would’ve found funny, but these are models we’re talking about; their standards are a little different. On the other hand, that white woman on the right and the black gentleman on the lower left appear to be giving the dog a lot of attention, which leads me to believe that it (i.e. the dog) maybe barked at an opportune moment. Somone was all, “Hey, dog, do you like Tommy Hilfiger’s sweet fashions?” and then the dog was all like, “Bark! Bark!” which I definitely see could be construed as a “yes” to a bystander. Whatever. In the end, it doesn’t matter so much. What matter is this: togetherness = joy.

By contrast, look at the photo of this one guy:

See how dour he is? He’s alone. The world is all darkness for him. Probably, at any second, he’s just gonna up and shoot an Arab, right before spiraling into a vortex of existential angst. That, or he’ll just gorge himself on store-bought rotisserie chicken and watch YouTube videos until falling asleep in a pool of his own mess. Either way, things aren’t looking so hot for him. And why? On account of he’s alone, is why.

I think what this brief study proves beyond a shadow of a doubt is that, in most cases, joy only really exists when it can be shared. And if the reader is under the impression that things are somehow different when composing a fake 25-man roster whose soul purpose is to provide joy to the sabermetrically oriented — well, that reader has another thing coming.

No, sometimes the means by which we’re introduced to a player — or, at the least, to the joy-inducing qualities of that player — is when one of our sabermetric brothers takes the time to paint said player’s portrait.

Here are three (well, 2.5) cases of that (categories in parentheses):
Read the rest of this entry »

Note to the Reader: I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure that what follows constitutes a genre-busting moment in the annals of sportswriting. So, just prepare yourself for that, is what I’m saying.

What you’re reading when you’re reading these words is Carson Cistulli’s most recent submission to the All-Joy Team. If you’re unfamiliar with the project, then you’ll want to read the introductory posts (yes, plural!) some time before you shuffle off this mortal coil.

In the meantime, you’ll be fine knowing that this is an attempt to compile a 25-man roster of current players most capable of providing joy to the sabermetrically inclined.

Today, shortstop (categories in parentheses).

SS: Ben Zobrist, Tampa Bay (1,3,5)
Sometimes you’re enamored of a player because he rises from relative obscurity to the top of the WAR charts on the strength of power, patience, and a glove than can handle almost any position admirably. Other times, it’s because a normally courteous internet presence threatens violence against your person unless you include him (i.e. Zobrist) in the Fake Team you’re composing.

In this case, it’s both.

I’m sure I don’t have to remind present company about Zobrist’s criz-nasty 2009 season. I don’t have to, but I will, anyway. Regard:

40.1 park-adjusted wRAA

Pow!

26.4 UZR

Bang!

8.6 WAR.

Schla-gong!!!

Owing to the East Coast/West Coast-style gang war currently going on in re peak years, I feel uncomfortable saying whether the 28-year-old Zobrist has already had, is about to enter, or is currently in the midst of his peak. One school of thought — a.k.a. probably the only school that would ever grant admission to someone like me — is that it doesn’t particularly matter: Zobrist has made his bed, lied in it, fallen into a deep asleep, woken up the next day, driven to Tropicana field, hit a bunch of homers, gone to the club with R. Kelly, gone to the after party with R. Kelly, gone to the hotel lobby with R. Kelly, hired a car service to bring him home, and fallen back asleep in/on/whatever that very same bed that he made earlier. In other words: he’s the realest of the deals. Ya heard!

Another point in Zobrist’s favor — and one that makes him a Category Five player — is the presence of the letter Z in his surname. It’s a well-known fact that Zs are reserved only for the coolest of the cool dudes: Bay Area yoga instructor and occasional left-handed starter Barry Zito, German filmmaking ubermensch Werner Herzog, and Wu-Tang founding fathers The RZA and The GZA.

The BZA — as he’s known to absolutely no one — is projected by CHONE to bat .268/.368/.463. ZiPS is even less optimistic: .261/.356/.443. My Intution says “Funk dat.” And much like Sex Panther cologne, 60 percent of the time, my Intuition is right every time.

Oh, and to the guy in the back who’s all, “Hey, why’d you pick Zobrist to play shortstop when he’s clearly more valuable as a second bas- blah blah blah,” here’s my reply: First, I think it’s pretty obvious we all agreed to call him “The BZA.” Get it right, please. Second, I’ve already made it abundantly clear that I will not always be “utilizing reason” or “using facts” to support these selections. If you have a problem with that, take it up with the transparent eyeball:

In my last dispatch, I introduced and intimated that I would submit for the reader’s consideration what one — if one were feeling bold — what one might call an All-Joy Team. In the what follows, I intend to continue that effort.

Having spent the last two days in solitude, on a diet of only water, prayerful introspection, and printed-out spreadsheets, I have come to some conclusions about what an enterprise such as this entails.

First is that it’d be imprudent to release the names of the entire All-Joy Team at once. Why? you might ask. Well, because to do so might cause all our hearts to explode from too much beauty — like we were all, collectively, watching a plastic bag caught in a swirling wind. The last thing this world needs is a bunch of people’s hearts exploding because of a sweet baseball article. Embarrassing!

Second is that, beyond the numbers and the commentariat’s very courteous and heart-felt suggestions, I have also utilized — sometimes to a greater, sometimes to a lesser degree — the faculty of Intuition. I’ve done this for a couple reasons. For one, because it’s inherent to an exercise such as this one, where how a player makes us feel is of great concern. I often think that when baseball writers are talking about if a player is good or not, what they really mean to say how the player makes them feel. Like anytime any New York sportswriter has ever said “ARod is bad at baseball” — which, they say that, I think — what that guy really means is “I don’t like ARod for some reason.” The latter of those comments is totally legitimate. The problem is when the sportswriter gets confused, when he tries to make a comment about talent, as opposed to taste.

And for two — in re Intuition — I’ve used it because I have a great deal of respect for that giant computer called the human brain. Like, did you know it can cure ichthyosis? I didn’t. But it can, apparently. Also, it does a lot of other things that are pretty amazing. Like allows us to breathe and digest without great mental effort.

Third is that — and this is a little bit similar to the second point — but third is that the second an enterprise such as this one begins to feel like work, the second that the constraints become a burden, the magic of the endeavor is lost. As my main man Ralph Waldo was accustomed to saying, sometimes you’ve just gotta write “Whim” on the lintels of your frigging door-post. It’s in that spirit that, on occasion, I have said — I will say — “Funk dat.” It’s also in that spirit that I will be submitting players in no particular order.

To remind the reader, here is the set of criteria with which I’ll be picking:

1. An MLB player whose advanced metrics (i.e. EqA, wOBA, VORP, UZR – really anything that attempts to improve upon AVG, HR, and RBIs) suggest greater production than is commonly perceived.

2. An MLB player whose peripheral numbers (i.e. xFIP, PrOPS, tRA) suggest greater production in near future.

3. Either an MLB part-timer or older (27 and up) minor leaguer whose production suggests probable success in expanded MLB role.

4. A younger (under 27) minor leaguer, but not top prospect, whose minor league numbers suggest success at the MLB level.

5. A player who demonstrates vigorously what Americans, quoting French poorly, call je ne sais quoi.

Furthermore, before I forget to say it, the idea is to submit an entire 25 man roster that reflects players that are currently of interest.

I’ll get started with the team in earnest next week. To whet the appetite, though, I present my number one guy here (relevant categories in parentheses):

RF: Daniel Nava, Boston (3, 5)
I don’t care what anyone says, Nava’s the player about whom I’m more excited than any other right now. Last year, as a 26-year-old, he started the season in High-A ball. That doesn’t exactly scream “prospect,” right? You know what else doesn’t exactly scream “prospect”? Everything else about him. Regard, from Sox Prospects:

Initially cut as a walk on at Santa Clara, Nava went to JuCo and excelled, ultimately returning to Santa Clara for his senior season. He went undrafted and again proved the doubters wrong by doing extremely well in independent baseball in 2007, earning the spot as Baseball America’s #1 independent prospect. He then proceeded to win the California League batting crown in 2008, albeit at the age of 25. Following an early-season injury in 2009, he went on to dominate the Carolina League and the Eastern League in limited at bats.

Despite the absence of anything like a draft pedigree, Nava posted an MLE of .274/.355/.407 across High-A and Double-A last year — that according to Minor League Splits. Baseball Prospectus rates his 124 Double-A ABs as a major league equivalent of .298/.374/.460 — the best in the Eastern League. The fact is that Nava has never played poorly, regardless of where he’s been. Plus, he went to Santa Clara — i.e. Steve Nash’s alma mater — which I think adds to the mystique somehow.

Will Nava play for the Red Sox this year? Probably not. What’d be nice, though, is to see him traded to a second division-type team and get some playing time. CHONE has him at .250/.328/.365 with a -3 run glove. That’s not so great. How about my heart, though? My heart has him forecasted as like a .311/.403/.487 with plus fielding.

My heart versus CHONE: A battle to the death!!!

I don’t know who this R.J. Anderson character thinks he is, but if he’s under the impression that I’m just gonna sit back and let him destroy FanGraphs all alone, he’s got another thing coming his way. No, if FanGraphs is going to be ruined by a series of highly speculative posts almost entirely devoid of advanced metrics, I’m going to have a say in it. Consider this my riposte, Anderson!

In the event that you didn’t read Anderson’s post yesterday, go for it: it’s a free country and nobody’s stopping you.

In the more likely event that you’re already mesmerized by my prose styling and must keep reading straight through to the end, here’s an outline of Anderson’s article: First, he looks at some Tampa Bay attendance figures and finds that many more fans go to see the Rays play the Yankers and Sox than the Orioles. Then he discusses how we can assume generally that a win is more fun to watch than a loss. He then wonders why, if wins are more fun to see, why Rays’ fans might go to those types of games and not games against, for example, the Orioles.

What Anderson’s post and a number of the more thoughtful comments that follow it bring to light is something that many of us have probably intuited: that the quality of the visiting team matters considerably as we evaluate how best to spend our baseballing dollar. Of course, in some cases — as with the Red Sox-Yankees matchups — the presence of a heated rivalry provides an extant narrative that ensures drama and creates an atmosphere of excitement. In other cases — such as a visit from the Yankees or Red Sox or any perennial contender — the prospect of beating a talented team is the draw.

Commenter Chris addresses this point concisely, admirably:

I go for the highest upside. Seeing a game a team is ’supposed to win’ means that anything less than a win is super disappointing and a win is expected. Seeing your team play the best, even if there is a lower probability of leaving with a win, allows for a much higher euphoria when they do win.

This is why mediocre college basketball teams that host the #1 team in the country get the best attendance – because the win means a rush of the court and great excitement.

In fact, at the very moment that Anderson submitted his article, I was losing some of my money at Portland Meadows — i.e. Portland, Oregon’s finest (and, not so coincidentally, only) venue for live thoroughbred racing. The appeal of horseracing is almost entirely based on the prevalence of victories of the high-upside variety. Consider first that each race is itself composed of seven or eight or more horses, thus creating a situation where even a heavily favored horse must contend with many variables. Moreover, horseracing allows one to make any number of longshot-type bets, such as Superfectas or Pick Fours, where, though the chances of winning are low, the sweetness of victory is, uh, really sweet. Though baseball’s underdog triumphs are less surprising, they at least provide a similar pleasure.

Finally, a number of the commentariat suggested that they are most interested in attending games that will feature specific players — regardless of whether said player belongs to his (i.e. the fan’s) team or not. Certainly, some players are bigger draws than others. In particular, starting pitchers — Felix Hernandez, for example — seem to exert a particularly strong influence over the baseballing imagination.

Of course, as fans, we have almost no control over our own team’s personnel (a fact that is all-too real for residents of the Paris of the Plains). However, by picking and choosing games by opposition roster, we are, in a sense, exercising our somewhat limited powers to construct the ideal team.

I’ve seen — in some of my electronic travels — I’ve seen the term “rosterbation” used to describe the act of re-arranging a team’s roster to reflect a fan’s preferences. I disapprove of this term (i.e. rosterbation) on account of it forces me to think about private parts. As a Christian Gentleman, I spend a great deal of time and effort pretending that private parts do not exist, and such a term makes it difficult for me to persist in my illusion.

That said, I approve highly of the act itself — that is, of dreaming about and re-arranging rosters. But I believe it is best used not merely to address our favorite teams’ rosters, but a sort of platonic roster, composed entirely of ideal players.

To that end, I plan on unveiling soon, in these electronic pages, something that I plan on calling The All-Joy Team. (The Mark Fidrych All-Stars is another possibility — in honor of the all-time single season leader in joy.) While personal taste is obviously inherent to any such enterprise of this description, I believe that most FanGraphs readers will agree on the five criteria that I suggested back when it was warm outside.

A member of the All-Joy Team will probably be:

1. An MLB player whose advanced metrics (i.e. EqA, wOBA, VORP, UZR – really anything that attempts to improve upon AVG, HR, and RBIs) suggest greater production than is commonly perceived.

2. An MLB player whose peripheral numbers (i.e. xFIP, PrOPS, tRA) suggest greater production in near future.

3. Either an MLB part-timer or older (27 and up) minor leaguer whose production suggests probable success in expanded MLB role.

4. A younger (under 27) minor leaguer, but not top prospect, whose minor league numbers suggest success at the MLB level.

5. A player who demonstrates vigorously what Americans, quoting French poorly, call je ne sais quoi.

When will this All-Joy Team appear? Probably Thursday, provided that Anderson doesn’t give me any more reasons to fly off the handle.

Moreover, any nominations will gladly be accepted below, and will be given consideration directly proportional to the civility and enthusiasm with which they are proposed.

[Edit in response to The Boomer’s comment: I didn’t mention specifically that the players would be composed of current players, but that’s what I meant. That said, an All-Time All-Joy Team would also be an interesting project. I’m just not sure I’m smart/old enough to pull it off.]