Where Bounty Hunters Meet Center Fielders

            

             Like so many kids her age, my 9-year-old daughter has become a Star Wars fanatic. It’s amazing that Star Wars has never become retro; it remains current, be it through the films, the LEGO phenomenon, the action figures or the books. For Chelsea, her immersion happened out of the blue; we were talking about the Star Wars movies, she expressed a desire to watch them, and before you know it we had watched all six films together in the course of a week’s time.

Like my brother and me three decades earlier, Chelsea was not content with merely watching the films; she wanted to talk about them in-depth, to the point where we continuously pressed pause on our DVD remote so we could debrief what had just happened. She wanted to know whether the Emperor had really died when Darth Vader threw him down a seemingly endless shaft at the end of Return of the Jedi. She wanted to know why Darth Maul was killed so quickly in The Phantom Menace. She wanted to know what exactly was happening with all the Senate proceedings in Episodes I, II and III (if only I could help her there). Chelsea loved Yoda and R2-D2, sure, but she also was fascinated with Greedo, Lando and, of course, Boba Fett.

I was discussing Chelsea’s Star Wars fascination with my brother, who was my childhood companion in all things Star Wars (Eric even went so far as to leave one of his Han Solo figures outside our house one winter so that Han could be frozen, as he had been in The Empire Strikes Back). My brother was, of course, thrilled with Chelsea’s appreciation for the films, and we got to talking about some of Chelsea’s questions and interests. As gripping as the George Lucas’ Star Wars stories are, there are flaws in the films, and Chelsea’s questions raise some of them. Perhaps none is so obvious, though, as the decision to offhandedly kill Boba Fett at the beginning of Return of the Jedi.

Over the past three decades, Boba Fett has grown into one of the most popular Star Wars characters of all, which is amazing considering how few lines he has, and how marginal he is to the overall plot (his main job is to bring Han Solo, frozen in carbonite, to Jabba the Hutt during The Empire Strikes Back). But Boba looks cool, has a Dirty Harry-like, minimalist swagger to him, and never shows his face beneath his green, red and black mask. And yet, during a fight scene early in Return of the Jedi, Han Solo accidentally knocks into Boba Fett, igniting his jet pack and sending the bounty hunter directly into the mouth of an alien with giant teeth, located inside a desert pit. With that careless move, Boba Fett is gone from the Star Wars saga. As the Walt Disney Company, which now owns Star Wars, prepares for Episode VII, it must do so without Boba Fett and his cult-like following.

Of course, that needn’t stop Disney; there’s already talk of a stand-alone Boba Fett film that would cover more of his life before he wound up in the alien’s mouth. But even so, this character’s story does say something about how important it is to keep your eyes on the ball when crafting a narrative. Sometimes, you have a jewel in your hand and don’t realize it. With the Star Wars saga, George Lucas created a modern-day version of the Greek myths, which has delighted my generation and my daughter’s; but he missed the boat on Boba Fett.

This kind of thing happens all the time, in fact. We’re often so intent on adding one piece to the story that we forget another, perhaps more important piece. Other than Star Wars, the only narrative I’ve had time to watch this summer is the six-month-long epic known as a baseball season. But even here, in Major League Baseball, there are Boba Fetts among us. Several ambitious big-league teams made daring trades on the July 31 trading deadline in an attempt to stockpile enough dominant pitching to win the World Series. But in making these trades, clubs such as the Detroit Tigers, St. Louis Cardinals and Oakland A’s traded away players who were important contributors to the clubs they had. By tossing those players into trades, they may have lost themselves a Boba Fett and gained nothing more than another Stormtrooper. When the Tigers traded their leadoff hitter and center fielder Austin Jackson for starting pitcher David Price, Jackson actually had to be removed from the game in the middle of an inning. When the Tigers fans realized what was happening, they gave Jackson a standing ovation.

Austin Jackson is not the best player in baseball; David Price, on the other hand, is among the game’s elite right now. But in order to win, baseball teams must rely heavily on the delicate chemistry of their club. To trade a young, developing player who has done nothing but contribute during his 4½ years in Detroit is risky. The Tigers are a different team now, as their plotline has been altered. They may still win, but it won’t feel the same without Austin Jackson in center.

My daughter, of course, doesn’t care about the Detroit Tigers. But she is still excited about Star Wars. She bought some LEGO “microfighter” ships the other day, and she borrowed an armful of Star Wars books from the library as well. As she scanned the book, Chelsea asked me who my favorite character was from all the films. I told her right away: Boba Fett. She nodded, understanding completely. We turned to his page in the Star Wars Character Encyclopedia, tucked in between Bib Fortuna and Boga. “Cool and calculating, Boba Fett is a legendary bounty hunter,” the page begins.

At that point, I should have shown Chelsea the Boba Fett death scene, and compared it with the clip of Austin Jackson jogging off the field in Detroit. But she would have just said I was being weird like English teachers can be sometimes, making all those deep connections. And she’d be right. But it’s also true that some of us have to stand guard over our stories, lest the next bounty hunter – or center fielder – end up in the desert pit.  

Class & Professionalism on Clearance

This week’s New York sports news centers on the most important baseball player the city has seen over the past 15 years. It seems inconceivable, yet the New York Yankees have chosen to play hardball with Derek Jeter in contract negotiations, with the owner even going so far as to warn us all that this could get “messy.”

Hal Steinbrenner and associates are apparently working hard to avoid overpaying the face of the franchise. New York has won five championships during Jeter’s tenure as starting shortstop, captain and overall role model for the pinstriped club. Apparently, Jeter’s clutch play and classy professionalism are not enough to stand in the way of his drop in offensive statistics last season. The Yankees have reviewed the data, and have decided the best way to do business is by making the ultimate stand-up guy sweat.

It’s true that Jeter has earned more money than any of us need in a lifetime, and it hardly seems productive for any of us to worry about the salaries of multimillionaires. But sometimes, we follow these contract talks not out of any concern for the salaries awarded, but more out of a genuine interest in knowing how much loyalty and integrity are worth these days.

I don’t think the Yankees could have ever dreamed they’d have a more impressive team leader in the astounding run of success they’ve experienced in this past decade and a half. When you are running the most profitable franchise in the history of professional team sports, you honor that success by going ahead and paying the man who symbolizes everything there is to like about you. There are some athletes and entertainers who transcend the word “overpaid” – the Jordans, the Ripkens, the Bradys, the Gretzkys. No one cares how much they made – only that they stayed put.

In 21st-century baseball, statistics rule the day. Yesterday, Felix Hernandez of the Seattle Mariners won the American League’s Cy Young Award with just 13 wins – the lowest total in history for a Cy Young-winning starter. While Tampa Bay Rays starter David Price won 19 games for a division-winning team, Hernandez received the award based on his overall numbers. And it’s true that Hernandez gave up fewer runs per game than Price and struck out more batters. But it’s also true that Price won numerous big games in a pennant race, with constant pressure. He was stronger in September than in any month of the year, and he continually found a way to win. Yet that was not enough to make up for the fact that the computer screen tells us Hernandez was better.

Derek Jeter was not the best player on anyone’s fantasy baseball team last year, and he won’t be the best next year, either. But if you think the Yankees will be a better team without him next year, or the year after that, then you aren’t watching the game – you’re just looking at statistics. There is a lot more to a great athlete than numbers. And if you’re going to use the numbers as the foundation for your negotiations, then you can assure yourself that you’ll build a team with no chemistry and no intangibles. Just a half-decade ago, the Yankees gave Jeter supremely talented teammates such as Randy Johnson, Gary Sheffield, Alex Rodriguez and Jason Giambi – only to see those players bring New York no further than the first round of the playoffs in their time together.

There is something more to life than mere numbers. If stats were everything, then colleges would ask only for students’ SATs, discarding all those essays and recommendations that give us a much closer look into the minds and hearts of these kids. Data assessment may drive the working world of 2010, but if you don’t look up from your spreadsheet once in awhile, you can miss some pretty amazing things.

Like Derek Jeter singling to the opposite field on a 3-2 count in the late innings of a playoff game. Or Jeter knowing just what to say to calm a rookie starter before a game against the Red Sox in Fenway Park. Or Jeter taking the time to work with children in need on an off-day. Or Jeter nodding his head to the young fan who calls out his name as he jogs back to the dugout.

The Yankees are crunching numbers and eyeing the bottom line. In so doing, they’re trying to reduce the price of true professionalism. If you can glance away from the data for a moment and look more deeply into the value of the man, you’ll see that this is one mistake that no one should even consider making. You can’t get a class act like Derek Jeter on clearance. And you really shouldn’t be trying.

The Grammy for Best Pitcher Goes To ... (One Sixty-Two: Day 155)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day One Hundred Fifty-Five: David Price, Tampa Bay Rays

Almost every time I check out the baseball section of my newspaper or flip through an on-line news site, I find more debates over who should win the American League’s Cy Young Award this season. The award is supposed to go to the league’s best pitcher. But in 2010, that’s not an easy thing to determine.

Is the best pitcher the man who has won the most games? If so, then New York Yankee CC Sabathia holds that honor right now. Or should the award go to the man who has given up the fewest runs and struck out the most batters? If so, then hard-luck Seattle Mariners ace Felix Hernandez gets the trophy in 2010. It’s an odd comparison, as Sabathia has 20 wins, 189 strikeouts and a 3.26 earned-run average, while Hernandez has just 12 wins but has struck out 227 batters while compiling a league-best 2.31 ERA.

Many baseball writers and fans are arguing that Hernandez is simply the best pitcher this year, and to deny him the trophy is to deny a very obvious fact. It’s not Hernandez’s fault that he has a weak offense to support him, the argument goes. But others disagree, deferring instead to the long tradition of Cy Young winners posting high win totals. Most of the pitching awards throughout baseball history have gone to men who racked up the W’s. Why, this opposing side counters, should that tradition change now?

It’s a curious debate. In the old days, it was very easy to see who the best starting pitchers were, because they always pitched complete games. According to Baseball-reference.com, there have been 147 winners of 30 or more games in the history of baseball. However, all but 21 of those men won 30 or more in the 19th century. Of the few 30-game winners in the 20th century, only three did so after 1930, and only one surpassed 30 wins after 1934.

That takes us to the 20-game winners, who are also becoming a vanishing breed. Through the 1980s, it was very common to see several 20-game winners in each league every season. But as relief specialists and pitch counts have become de rigeur, starting pitchers rarely have the chance to finish their own job. In two of the past four years, no pitcher has won 20 games at all. This season, three pitchers have already won 20, but no one will get any higher than 22 this year.

So that brings us back to the Cy Young race. Do we throw up our hands and just forget about the number of wins a pitcher has in the 21st century, or do we still count those victories as significant when measuring a hurler’s Cy Young credentials? My thoughts are this: We take the Grammy route.

Every year, the Grammy Awards nominate a very interesting bunch of artists for Album of the Year. Some of the nominees are there because they’ve pushed the envelope, taken some risks and given music a new look (such as Amy Winehouse in 2008, Radiohead in 2009, or Lady Gaga in 2010). Other nominees are on the list because their album was enormously popular (Kanye West in ‘08, Coldplay in ’09, and The Black Eyed Peas in ’10). This diversity among the nominees creates a fascinating debate and keeps a number of viewers awake watching an awards show until after 11 on a Sunday night in winter. And then, when the victor is announced, mouths fall agape “The winner is .. Herbie Hancock! … Robert Plant and Alison Krauss! … Taylor Swift!”

The Grammy people love compromise picks, and these selections have all the spice and flavor of a rice cake. The envelope-pushers inevitably become popular anyway, and the top-sellers remain top-selling. But clearly, one of them should have won the award, right? In the realm of music, safe picks make no sense.

But in terms of pitching, there’s a lot to be said for following the Grammy road. Because as important as it is to honor a great season, I just cannot hand over a best-pitcher trophy to a guy with 12 wins. That’s an offense to the labor of Charlie “Old Hoss” Radbourn, who chalked up a record 59 wins in 1884. Or even to Denny McLain, our last 30-game winner, who tallied 31 victories in 1968. Baseball is about tradition, and winning games is something pitchers have always celebrated. That’s why the starters always head into the clubhouse when a reliever has blown the lead for them. On the other hand, though, it is understandable that a man with 20 wins who gives up a whole run more than the league leader should not win the Cy Young trophy. He has, of course, benefited from more luck than the average pitcher.

So we look in between the Sabathias and the Hernandez’s. And that’s where we find David Price. The Tampa Bay Rays left-hander, in just his second full season, has been electric all season long. Price has an 18-6 record, a 2.84 ERA, and 179 strikeouts. What’s more, he has given up more than five runs in a start just once all season. Last night, as Price outdueled Sabathia for a Rays victory at Yankee Stadium, he put a final stamp on his claim to the award. He may lack Sabathia’s wins, but he’s got plenty. And while he’s a little short of Hernandez’s K and ERA numbers, he’s more than holding his own. This year in the American League, Price is right for Cy Young honors.

The 20-game winner might be fading out of view, and this era of WHIPs and WARs and K-to-BB ratios has so many fans crunching more numbers than they ever imagined they’d see next to a ballplayer’s name. But there’s no need to go nuts with the statistics when looking for your Cy Young. Just uncover this year’s Alison Krauss. It makes for a lousy Grammy pick, but it works just fine in baseball.

Pixie Dust and Pinstripes

So fairies are the new princesses in the wonderful world of Disney. I just finished watching the film “Tinker Bell” with my 3-year-old, and I also saw her eyes light up when she received a Tinker Bell sweatshirt, children’s book and T-shirt for Christmas. Perhaps Disney has finally milked all it could out of the “Princess” phenomenon that has connected Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel and friends for the past decade, and must now turn to little creatures who create magic with their pixie dust.

But let’s face it: Princess and fairy tales are the kinds of stories we were raised to love. Is it part of our genetic DNA or is it learned behavior that causes so many of us to seek out the happily ever after? Whatever the cause, it is what we root for. Whether it’s the girl with the glass slipper or the untested rookie pitcher, we all seem to find ourselves pulling for the underdog.

Last year, I watched the Tampa Bay Rays shock the baseball world for six months, winning game after game with a team full of young, talented and unseasoned kids. These players soared all the way to Game Seven of the American League Championship Series. And then, when the Boston Red Sox had the Rays’ backs fully against the wall, Tampa Bay even brought out a prince of its own – take away the “N” and you’ve got his name, David Price. This rookie phenom, with just a few innings of major league ball under his belt, blew away the mighty Red Sox hitters and led his new Rays teammates to the World Series.

It was quite a story, and it’s one that baseball fans will surely remember for some time. But fascinating as I found the Rays’ rise, I remain very much a New York Yankees fan. I like the fairy tale stories, but when the 2009 season begins I will be rooting for the Disney Corp. of baseball. I’m a die-hard fan of a multimedia conglomerate. Yay! I know, there’s no real charm to that. As the new stadium opens, and many of us are boxed out of affording tickets, it seems illogical to be cheering for such a business.

Rooting for the Rays would make more sense if you’re looking for some pixie dust in your sports appetite. But if you’re honest with yourself, you know that entertainment, at its best, invokes a connection to the dreams and imaginations of our childhood. I can go on and on about the Yankees being a might giant – an Evil Stepmother, if you will – but it doesn’t change the fact that I grew up idolizing the players on this team. It doesn’t change the fact that the sight of those pinstripes reminds me of my own youthful innocence and joy, as I made believe I was Graig Nettles at the plate or Ron Guidry on the mound.

Say what you want about the media giants, but they know what they’re doing. A 20-year-old can take a college class in economics and turn all cynical on the might and manipulation of Disney. But slip “The Lion King” into a VCR player, and that 20-year-old turns to mush, singing “Hakuna Matata” with sheer joy.

So bring on the fairies. And the new pinstriped millionaires. I’ve got my critical business eye trained on the Yankees. But I’ve also got the wide-eyed wonder. And as far as I can tell, the latter isn’t going away.