YES Network.com

GAME CALLED ON ACCOUNT OF COUGHING:
A MYOPIC LOOK AT DISASTER PLANNING
This morning's light reading has been the just-released "Community Strategy for Pandemic Influenza Mitigation," released on Thursday by the Centers for Disease Control. "It is highly unlikely," the CDC says, "that the most effective tool for mitigating a pandemic (i.e., a well-matched pandemic strain vaccine) will be available when a pandemic begins. This means that we must be prepared to face the first wave of the next pandemic without vaccine and potentially without sufficient quantities of influenza antiviral medications." Because of that, we must be prepared to take other steps, such as, "Use of social distancing measures to reduce contact between adults in the community and workplace, including, for example, cancellation of large public gathering..." [sic]

In other words, no baseball games. Fortunately, the CDC recommends this step only in case of what they deem a "Category 4" pandemic, which is defined as somewhere between 900,000 to 1.8 million deaths. In Category 2 and 3 outbreaks, in which the death toll rises from 90,000 to just under 900,000, the CDC says that canceling public events should be considered, but it stops short of saying it has to happen. Before panicking, keep in mind, there have been only two Category 2 outbreaks in United States in the relative recent past, 1957 and 1968, no Category 3 or 4 outbreaks, and just one Category 5 outbreak, the one that scares everyone — the worldwide outbreak of 1918, where somewhere around 600,000 were killed in the US alone. You can find pictures of ballplayers going to bat wearing gauze masks during that one.

What the CDC calls "social distancing" is not just about fans phlegm-ing each other. As the CDC remarks, "Defining the proper geospatial-temporal boundary for [the pandemic area] is complex and should recognize that our connectedness as communities goes beyond spatial proximity and includes ease, speed, and volume of travel between geopolitical jurisdictions (e.g., despite the physical distance, Hong Kong, London, and New York City may be more epidemiologically linked to each other than they are to their proximate rural provinces/areas)." In other words, say they have a pandemic in Milwaukee but not in Los Angeles. The Brewers fly to play the Dodgers, and someone sneezes...

These interventions, like canceling of public gatherings, would last up to 12 weeks in the case of a Category 4 or 5 (paraphrasing the definition of Category 5: really scary). The ironic thing about canceling ballgames is that it probably wouldn't be necessary-many fans would choose to stay home rather than risk going out. That happened in 1918 as well; the living remained behind their doors. Also, due to workplace absenteeism, changes to public transit, and the dismissal of all schools for up to 12 weeks, requiring massive amounts of unsupported parental childcare, would pretty much bring the economy to a squealing halt.

I titled this installment "a myopic look," because baseball games are going to be among the last thing on people's minds if a Category 5 outbreak takes place. They'll be more concerned with survival. Still, baseball is our area of interest so when matters outside of sport might have an impact on the game arise we should take a quick look. Better to deal with uncomfortable things head on than try to wish them away. The annoying thing is that there isn't much we can really do to avoid this except to stay out of countries that have unsafe poultry-handling practices.

For further reading on a really unpleasant time to be alive, check out The Great Influenza. (Full disclosure: the huge company that published this book also publishes the Baseball Prospectus annual.)

BERNIE'S INVITE
I was thinking of adding something to yesterday's entry about Williams possibly coming to camp and competing for an excuse to send Melky Cabrera to Columbus for "his own good," but I don't think there's anything to add except that there's no point. Kevin Thompson batted .288/.372/.541 against lefties last year and played all three outfield spots. If the Yankees were going to add a fifth outfielder (and they probably should) he would be a better choice than Williams based on his ability to play defense. Thompson is cheaper, more versatile, and has some of the same skills at bat. He's not a coming star, but Williams isn't a star anymore either.

We'll leave the matter there until March, when Williams starts taking valuable plate appearances away from Thompson and Brett Gardner.

CLICK HERE TO COMMENT

---

THURSDAY, February 1: Posted at 9:29 p.m. ET

The Yankees have apparently offered Bernie Williams a non-roster invite to spring training. As invitation experiences go, this is something like being wait-listed at your first choice of college or being told that the popular girl at school will invite you to her party if all her other friends get hit by meteors.

The general intent of an NRI is to have some long-shot insurance in case of a breakdown or sudden catastrophic failure at another position. The team is going to start a prospect at third base, but because it's not certain that he can make the jump out of spring training, someone like Edgardo Alfonzo is invited to camp. Sure, Alfonzo is finished, but you figure that if your prospect has that deer in the headlights look you can send him to Triple-A because you have an experienced body at the position, even if it's not a very good one. Alternatively, if the prospect hits .550, you can cut Alfonzo at no cost.

You might also extend an NRI to a veteran minor leaguer you've signed, figuring maybe he'll break through. Maybe this will be the year that Scott McClain hits 18 home runs in spring training and you can make a case for him as a part time first baseman or DH. Finally, top prospects far away from the majors might get an NRI so they can rub shoulders with the big boys for a few days before getting sent out.

Bernie Williams doesn't fit any of those scenarios. If the Yankees thought he could help them more than the five players they have slated to play the outfield and designated hitter, he would have been signed already. There's nothing that can happen in spring training that can logically change that. If Williams hits .420 with five home runs in the Grapefruit League, it's far more likely that he's abusing inexperienced pitching and Florida's friendly March winds than it is a sign that there's still life in the old boy. If Melky Cabrera hits .130, it doesn't argue that he's not the player the Yankees liked so much last fall. Even if Cabrera hits .000 and Williams hits .500, the Yankees still can't change one for the other, because Williams is a defensive liability. Williams could be carried as a DH, but that would force the Yankees to put Jason Giambi back on defense, something they apparently want to avoid at all costs.

The only scenario in which Williams might help is as insurance in case one of those five players (the four outfielders or the DH) ruptured a knee. Even then, his bat has atrophied to the point that he would really only be useful in the same way he was useful last year — as a platoon outfielder. In all other aspects he is sub-optimal. Even then, there is an argument to be made that the Yankees could get comparable production and better outfield defense out of some combination of their minor leaguers if the injury is in the outfield, while an injury at DH could be patched with a rotation of resting regulars.

If Williams could play first base, his lefty-killing ways might be useful, but not decisively more so than Josh Phelps. The Yankees need a first baseman who can do something positive with right-handed pitching, and unfortunately neither Williams nor Phelps nor Doug Mientkiewicz can do that.

The invite, then, is a sentimental gesture, or more cynically, one designed to combat criticism that the Yankees are treating their loyal soldier without appropriate sentimentality. Either way, the gesture is doomed to backfire. If there are no injuries and Williams makes the team, it will be at the cost of playing time to Melky Cabrera. That doesn't help the Yankees in the present or the future; it's going to be difficult for Joe Torre to find Cabrera adequate time even without Williams around. If he hits well and is cut anyway, the Yankees open themselves up to criticism, however misguided, that they're being self-defeating. If he hits poorly and is cut, then he goes out on a low note. He's simply a poor fit at this stage of his career.

Williams was a great player in his prime and a deserved Yankees favorite. It's not disloyal to that memory to say that it's time to move on, or for the Yankees to decide that it's time to move on. It's just the way baseball works, and there's no need for anyone to apologize for it.

CLICK HERE TO COMMENT

---

WEDNESDAY, January 31: Posted at 5:54 p.m. ET

WHAT SPRING IS LIKE ON JUPITER AND MARS (AND FAR BOMBAY)
Woke up this morning wondering how many people prefer "Fly Me to the Moon" to "Come Fly with Me." Perhaps because the novelty of jet travel isn't what it was in the 1950s (no one was thinking about jet exhaust chewing holes in the ozone back then, were they?), because flying means tedious hurry-up-and-wait experiences like going through security and sitting on the tarmac waiting for a runway, the idea of beating the birds down to Acapulco bay not only seems less attractive than before but downright impossible. Flying to the moon, that still has some allure, and spring on Jupiter sounds romantic in spite of the forecast (gassy with a chance of more gas).

As always, when you want to consult a critical guide to further your thoughts on the recorded works of Frank Sinatra, you need to reach for a copy of Will Friedwald's "Sinatra! The Song is You" — an indispensable read. Crack the cover and a rock 'n' roll fan with no interest in other forms of music will come away changed. A critic's most important job is not to say yea or nay to a particular work, but to make the heretofore uninteresting, impenetrable, or invisible obvious in its appeal and enticing to the neophyte. He's the barker who gets you into the tent. Friedwald can do that.

POSADA VS. VARITEK
As I expected, I got plenty of mail on one particular aspect of yesterday's Pinstriped Bible — how the heck PECOTA sees Jason Varitek out-hitting Jorge Posada by a slight margin in 2007 when Posada had such a fine season while Varitek vanished down a black hole. My scientific answer: darned if I know. I have an email in to Nate Silver, PECOTA's daddy.

I can offer a few thoughts. First, Posada is 35. Varitek, eight months younger, is 34. Both are middle-aged catchers, so some skepticism is called for; they are at an age where catchers suddenly and permanently lose their bats. Posada's plate discipline should make him a useful player even as he declines — you can imagine him turning into an old Wes Westrum-type. Varitek's plate discipline isn't as refined, but because of his weird, Scott Boras-inspired, Bartleby-the-Baseball Player post-college holdout, he's played fewer games than Posada and might last a little longer.

Posada's translated rates (that is, adjusted for park and league and time of day and what he ate for breakfast and the number of tigers surviving in the wilds of India and the late plays of Noel Coward) are .276/.386/.496. Varitek's are .267/.351/.460. When his bat fails, as it did last year, he doesn't offer top-tier production (I was going to write something more negative, but in a league in which there is room for Raul Chavez to play, Varitek's .231/.327/.409 of last season is huge). When Posada fails to meet his own standards, as he did in 2005 (.262/.352/.430) he's still quite good (and the Raul Chavez thing goes double for him).

As such, the PECOTA system would seem to have gotten its wires crossed, overrating Varitek's age and comeback possibilities. Still, if it did so, it did it in a very minor way. The weighted mean projection for Jorge, translated (for Noel Coward again) comes out to .256/.365/.443. Varitek's Noel Coward rates are .262/.350/.448. Equivalent Average, which sums up a player's offense in one neat-o stat that scales like batting average, calls that for Posada, .290 to .282.

So perhaps it's fair to say that PECOTA isn't saying Varitek will be better than Posada so much as it is suggesting that Posada will be a little bit less fun this year. Given his age and position, that's a reasonable assumption to make.

ALL-STAR GAME: YANKEE STADIUM
I'd written about this possibility, one of the industry's worst-kept secrets, several weeks back, so I hadn't planned to say much about it today, but just as I was wrapping up here I got an email from frequent correspondent James, who wrote:

What If the Red Sox won the World Series this year, and Terry Francona manages the All Star Game next year and pick his players to play in Yankee Stadium? Francona doesn't pick Jeter and chooses A-Rod instead? Does it bother you as a Yankees fan that Francona will be seated in Yankees dugout where Joe Torre manages? Also Ortiz will be sitting his fat [censored] in the Yankees home dugout.

I have to be honest. I've been sitting here for 20 minutes now trying to get worked up over this possibility and I just can't do it. I'm just not vexed at all. Prior to your bringing it up, it hadn't even crossed my mind. Now that I'm aware of it, I still anticipate having an untroubled dinner and getting a good night's sleep. I'm sorry, James. I tried for you, I really did, but, you know, I've sat in the Yankee Stadium home dugout many times. I figure David Ortiz has more right to be there than I do.

Now, if you asked me about the possibility of, say, Donald Rumsfeld managing from the home dugout at Yankee Stadium, that would probably cause me some tossing and turning.

CLICK HERE TO COMMENT

---

MONDAY, January 29: Posted at 7:12 p.m. ET

TODAY'S PINSTRIPED BLOG BROUGHT TO YOU BY MODERN MEDICINE (BUT NOT THE HEALTH INSURANCE INDUSTRY)
Pardon me for running late today. Earlier this morning I had to get a shot of the tumor-starving drug Avastin in my post-cancerous eye. The shot had nothing to do with my cancer but rather is an off-label use intended to turn off the constant inter-ocular bleeding that is one of the consequences of having a tiny nuclear bomb detonated in your head. Avastin was developed to starve colo-rectal tumors of the blood supply they need to grow, but some of the same chemicals it attacks also show up when your eye is threatening to pop like a balloon (only so much room for blood in there), and doctors have discovered that it works nicely at controlling the bleeding.

Getting a shot in or around the eye sounds scary, but you'd be surprised at what you can get used to if you're subjected to it often enough. If you paid someone to show up at your house every morning for a year and poke you in the thigh with a shrimp fork, it would be annoying in the first couple of months and no bother by the end. You might even miss it when it was over. "Hey, honey, remember the shrimp-fork guy?" you might ask in later years. "He really knew how to handle that thing, didn't he?"

The only drag about all this is that once the anesthetic wears off, the eye tends to be rather sensitive. The annoying thing about your eyes is that they're yoked together. You can't move the left one without moving the right one — at least not if you aren't Marty Feldman. So while it would be nice to give the bad one a rest while letting the good one roam around scoping out the ladies and mixing cocktails, it just doesn't work that way. If your right eye hurts when you use it then you're not using your left eye either.

After roughly five years of this kind of fun, I have found that my best tactic is to sleep through the four or five hours after a procedure. That is why I am starting work in the very late afternoon. Aren't you glad you asked?

Because this is not an FDA-approved use of Avastin — not yet — my insurance company is unlikely to pick up the tab. Until the FDA gets involved, insurance views all procedures as skeptically as if they were voodoo. It would be nice if, once the procedure is approved, I could get a refund, but that's not very likely to happen. Speaking of which, I would like to know who out there has these "gold-plated" health care policies that have been talked about in the press since the State of the Union health care proposal. I spend just enough on premiums that I am apparently on the border of being "gold-plated" as the president figures it, but I sure ain't getting white-glove service.

SIMPLE RESPONSES TO OWNER BRAVADO
In an AP piece that ran on ESPN.com on Monday, Rockies owner Charlie Monfort said, "This is Todd Helton we're talking about. We're not just going to give him up for nothing?"

Charlie: Given the amount of money you owe this fellow, given that his contract runs on for so long that by the time it ends the hot story will be Hillary Clinton's campaign to be RE-elected president, you would benefit immensely by giving him up for nothing, just flat-out dumping him on the shoulder of the highway. Sure, he's a nice guy, but you have a baseball team to run.

"It would be so tough to see Todd go. We drafted him. He's a great guy, he has a ranch 15 minutes from my house," Monfort said. "This one is tough. We had Vinny Castilla and Andres Galarraga but they weren't with us as long as Todd. And Todd's a friend of mine."

Bernie Williams is a heck of a nice guy, too, and he's looking for work. His skills have eroded quite a bit, but if you're looking for mellow people to hang out with, chances are you'll enjoy his company. Imagine you and Helton sharing a cold one while Williams regales you with some fine new-age-y guitar playing. The season will pass in a pleasant, lazy blur, regardless of won-lost record.

And in the end, isn't that what it's all about?

1984
I discussed my latest book project on Baseball Prospectus Radio this weekend, so I guess I can talk about it here (if you check it out, I talk about the Yankees too). BP has tasked me with being the "show-runner" on "It Ain't Over Til It's Over: The Baseball Prospectus Pennant Race Book" a BP/PB-style look back in time, seeing what we can learn about the future by turning the analytical tools of the present on the past. It will be out in August.

Among the chapters I'm writing is one on the 1984 season. That was not quite a quarter-century ago, and yet the changes in baseball since then have been radical. Most shocking, when you look back, is the fact that pitching staffs averaged between 10 and 11 pitchers, not between 11 and 13. There were many more position players, and many fewer cheesy relievers. This put more pressure on managers both to pick the right 10 relievers and to use them at the right times, because once Jay Howell was in the game, your only fallback position was Dave Righetti. At the same time, this meant that managers had more flexibility when it came to carrying pinch-hitters, pinch-runners, and spare infielders. Given a ten-man staff, Bernie Williams would unquestionably have had a job with the Yankees in 2007, in the same way that Lou Piniella had a job with the 1983-1984 Yankees. By those two seasons, Piniella was a defensively challenged 39/40-year-old who could hit .300 against left-handed pitchers as a pinch-hitter and spot-starter. Williams is a defensively challenged 38-year-old who can hit .300 against left-handers as a pinch-hitter and spot-starter (the pinch-hitting success is theoretical). The only difference is that 25 years ago teams didn't clog their rosters with Mike Myers-types.

Imagine a 2007 Yankees roster without a Mike Myers, but with a Bernie Williams. Every time the other team brings in its version of Mike Myers, the Yankees bring out Bernie. The deterrent effect alone would allow the Yankees to dictate any number of late-game match-ups.

The other shocking aspect of baseball 25 years ago was how disposable marginal players were. With two rounds of expansion still in the future, if you were a weak-hitting middle infielder who failed to establish yourself, you were sent to Triple-A, never to return. Today, those players become millionaires.

BASEBALL SMARTS
With Scott Podsednik down for the start of the season, the White Sox have signed the execrable Darrin Erstad as insurance, but there is apparently some thought to letting prospect Josh Fields have a shot at the job. If Fields wins and hits somewhere in the vicinity of what he showed he was capable of in the minors, the change from Podsednik to Fields (assuming decent fielding by Fields) would be a swing of around five wins. That would have been enough to get the Sox a shot at the wild card last season.

IN TUESDAY'S PINSTRIPED BIBLE
The implications of Todd Helton to the Red Sox, because my mailbox is a-buzzin' with the question.