I won’t rehash my feelings about pitch counts. I haven’t changed my stance since I wrote this post.
In the days since, Bruce Jenkins of the Chron wrote a two-part cranky-grandpa complaint about pitchers these days getting mollycoddled, improperly waxing their moustaches, and not throwing enough. Grant had a fine take on Jenkins yesterday, and Andrew Baggarly chimed in today, so I won’t add much more except to say that Jenkins is doing journalism a disservice.
He has some good points. Pitch count is an interesting, important topic that needs more debate. But Jenkins swaddles his arguments in rhetoric more fit for a political convention. “Restore dignity!” “Fear has replaced common sense!” “Follow your instincts!”
The articles are ostensibly a counterpunch to the robotic groupthink of pitch counts and bullpen roles, a development I agree is riddled with stupid, rigid orthodoxy. But scratch the surface more, and you’ll see that Jenkins is no free thinker. He hates curiosity. It’s for losers, and it’s also funny when the starting quarterback stuffs the chess team president into a hall locker. Here’s the heart of Jenkins’ argument: “People can sit around adjusting their spectacles and analyzing, but they have no idea how it feels to actually compete.”
Jenkins adds nothing to the debate. He tells us no one throws complete games anymore, but he doesn’t want to deal with the unknowns. He cherry picks a few famous names — see? Juan Marichal and Vida Blue never had arm problems! — but this is not reporting. Perhaps as a columnist Jenkins gets slack that reporters don’t, because any editor semi-familiar with the topic should have sent this back for more work. (Shame on you, too, Chron sports editor Glenn Schwarz.)
In an examination of The Pitch Count Era, as Jenkins calls it, you’d think he would interview Dr. Jim Andrews or his colleagues in Birmingham, Ala.; or find pitchers from the 1950s, ‘60s, or ‘70s who blew their arms out early and get their opinions; or note that for previous generations, baseball was the only game, there were far more minor league teams, the pool of young pitchers was nearly bottomless, and teams had less incentive to coddle up-and-comers. They were disposable commodities.
Jenkins’ work, as is often the case, is intellectually dishonest. He dismisses arguments about how the game has drastically changed by writing this:
As much as anything, though, the pace of the game has changed. I once asked Leonard Koppett (the sage historian who passed away in 2003) why games of the past were so routinely played in two hours. "They didn't have lights," he said. Pitchers worked quickly, batters went up there hacking, only a minute or so passed between half-innings, and it was all very tidy. Pitchers are infinitely more deliberate today. They require more pitches to get through an inning and the hitters, as a whole, aren't nearly as aggressive. In the era of on-base percentage, it's downright heroic for a batter to be up there taking pitches for a 3-and-1 count.
Ah, yes, the good old days when batters swung at 3–1 pitches a foot outside, the way men do. Pitchers now are deliberate. Hitters aren’t aggressive. It’s like everyone’s out there reading books or something.
Jenkins has good points sometimes. But he proves himself unwilling to do the hard work — yes, it’s possible to do hard work with your mind, too, sometimes while wearing spectacles — perhaps for fear of undermining his strongly-held convictions. It’s easier to talk to Jack Morris, who had to be removed from games with a crowbar, to confirm that yes, things were better back then. It’s sad, and it’s bad journalism.
With all that, I’ll only say one thing about Tim Lincecum throwing 132 pitches last night. The Giants have an off-day tomorrow, so he’ll have five days of rest before his next start. I’ll bet that factored into Bochy’s decision.
Really glad you wrote this post today, Lefty, 'cause despite the Giants uplifting win last night, I was shouting at Bochy, literally wincing every time Lincecum threw a pitch in the later innings. I can just see every pitch he throws after 110 taking a month off his career.
OK, so maybe the sky isn't falling, but seriously; This ain't a playoff team yet, go easy on the lad, Bruce!
Mitigating circumstance: By all accounts Lincecum has an uncanny and highly unusual understanding of his own body mechanics and the stress he puts on his arm. I think there's a feeling that back-of-the-envelope rules on pitch count may not apply to him and that he is (unlike most athletes) his own best judge on such matters.
Also don't forget he's in the hunt for the Cy Young, so there's some justification for running up his strikeout totals.
Now I'm concerned, as that is a lot of pitches, but
more that he's now at 3,008 pitches with 5 more starts, putting him on pace for roughly 3,600 pitches in a season.
132 I am not happy with, nor would I probably allowed it to happen, but there is nothing that shows that 132 is any worse than 110, depending on the circumstances of the pitcher's condition. As Bochy noted, "It wasn't so much the number as the fact he wasn't laboring. he was still free and easy. And Timmy's honest, too. There have been a couple games when he said his legs were cramping. He said he felt great."
So hopefully that will allay the fears that some have that Tim would lie. As I've been saying all along, Tim is better than most players about his body, probably happened because of his father's training on how to pitch and being aware of all the parts that go into his delivery plus so many people doubt his abilities due to his size.
This guy knows what is at stake and he's not going to jeopardize it by saying he is OK when he is not. If he is confident enough to pass up a huge chunk of change from the Indians because he wanted $1M, then force the Giants to give him the $2M the #10 got the year before, now wanting to go year to year with his contract (probably since he'll be super-2 and get an extra year of arbitration), he knows what's at stake, he knows his value and will protect his value.
He has what I feel is the right balance: he's not money hungry like the Boras clientele but neither is he just happy to be here, he wants what is fair for the value he provides and will stick to his guns to get it. Else he would be pitching for the Indians right now, and the Giants would be stuck with, perhaps, Daniel Bard or Kyle Drabek right now (the two top names until Lincecum fell into their laps).
Jenkins officially became a curmudgeon some time in 2006. He has no interest in researching his arguments; he's the guy at the end of the bar who imposes himself into your conversations with his alcohol fueled opinions, delivered at high decibels. {I have no idea whether Jenkins actually drinks, but he is definitely that guy)
Re: Timmy: let's see how he does, health wise, next year. Year 2 (the second full season) is usually the "tell." Lowry had arm problems starting in his second full season, as did Jason Schmidt (with Atl). College and/or the minors don't really prepare for or predict how a pitcher will do for a full season in the Show. In the meantime, Boche is trying to balance between protecting Tim's and Cain's arms and giving them valuable learning opportunities - it's a tough balance, but on the whole I'm OK with his approach (with the pitchers, that is: don't get me started on the whole "playing the veterans" thing)