Archive for Daniel Nava

After several years of trying to fill the post-Manny hole in left field with the likes of Carl Crawford, Bill Hall (!), Scott Podsednik, & Jeremy Hermida, the Red Sox actually managed to put together a cost-effective and productive platoon situation in 2013.

Returnee Daniel Nava would hit the righties (and he did, with a .392 wOBA), and free agent acquisition Jonny Gomes would hit the lefties, which he did as well, putting up a .346 wOBA split. Including the surprising Mike Carp, who was acquired in February when the Mariners couldn’t find room for him and who shockingly hit everyone (.382 wOBA), the Red Sox left fielders put up the team’s most valuable season for the position since 2009, also known as “the last year Jason Bay was any good”.

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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.

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!!!