Bleacher Report - Articles by John Carlisle

Cleveland Indians Rising, Thanks to Small-Ball Streak

John Carlisle — Thu, 15 May 2008 17:45:50 -0400

With a couple of exceptions—a 12-run outburst against Toronto, notably—the Cleveland Indians left their bats down in Winter Haven, Fla. The only regular starter hitting over .300 is Victor Martinez, who, as a No. 4 hitter, has yet to hit one home run. Though some are starting to come around—Hafner has hit in his last few—the offensive state for the Wahoos is still certifiably anemic.

The complaining and negativity end here, I promise. The Indians are 22-19 and back in first place in the AL Central. What's there to complain about, really?

The starting pitching staff has handcuffs on every single hitter in their American League, going an epic 55 1/3 consecutive innings without allowing an earned run. As of Friday, it's been a week since the Indians' starters have given up an earned run. In that time span, they threw three complete-game shutouts, if you count Cliff Lee's nine-inning goose egg that amounted to a no-decision (and I count it.)

Lee threw a eight innings of shutout ball in his previous start against the Yankees, and two starts before that, he threw a two-hit shutout in Kansas City, sandwiching in there a "terrible" start in which he gave up a three-run homer and still won. (In some circles, that's known as a "quality start.")

The defense has been stellar. Sure, Asdrubal Cabrera turned an unassisted triple play, but he also has made some mind-boggling catches in the field. Grady Sizemore is running down everything hit in the air to center field, and both Franklin Gutierrez and Ben Francisco have been showcasing their strong arms, throwing out numerous base runners.

To me, the real stunner is Aaron Laffey (pictured). Laffey was solid last year as the Tribe's No. 5 during the second half of the season. He logged a 4-2 record with a 4.56 ERA in nine starts last year and assured that Cliff Lee would stay at AAA (turns out that was a very good thing for Lee).

No one really gave Laffey much of a shot to win the No. 5 starter spot out of Spring Training, and they were right. He didn't pitch particularly well in Winter Haven. But he's hit his stride since the call-up, filling in more than adequately for Jake Westbrook, who was tremendous himself before he got hurt.

Laffey must stay up with the varsity when Westbrook comes back, in my opinion. Maybe the Indians should try a six-man rotation? It will save some innings from the rest of the staff for later in the season. Can you imagine? A six-man rotation with three lefties and three righties? Three hard-throwers and three finesse guys? Preparing for that kind of versatility would give managers, hitting coaches and hitters absolute fits.

In short, the Tribe has the most depth in baseball at the most coveted position. If they can move Betancourt back to the eighth-inning role, where he is most effective and comfortable, they will be set in the bullpen, as well. And I think Eric Wedge can make this move now, as Masa Kobayashi appears to have the moxy to close out games.

The Tribe lose the designated hitter this weekend as they travel down I-71 to play a set in Cincinnati, but I don't think it matters. They've been playing National League baseball—scratch that, 1960s-era National League baseball—for the past two weeks.

The pitchers hitting might actually help them. Jeremy Sowers starts tomorrow night, and if he twirls a gem, the Indians will have a logjam in their rotation so tight that the only thing busier than Mark Shapiro's cell phone—with offers from other general managers for a starter—will be Carl Willis', who will receive calls from reporters who want to feature the next Leo Mazzone.

Small ball: It worked in 1948. Why not now?

First Cubs Game at Wrigley Field: 10 Reflections

John Carlisle — Sat, 03 May 2008 08:45:13 -0400

Consider this "Part I" of my ballpark evaluation series. In 2008, I have the privilege of visiting three of baseball finest and most historic venues: Wrigley Field, Yankee Stadium and Dodger Stadium.

For all three, my visit is my first. Two weeks ago, I managed to take in a game within "the friendly confines" of Wrigley Field, which — I'll just come right out and say it — vaulted itself to No. 2 on my list of favorite ballparks. (Note: Cleveland's Jacobs Field, also known as Corporate-Insurance-Evildoer-based-Mayfield-Heights-Ohio Field, will always be No. 1. It's the park where I grew up with baseball, watching my Indians heroes on the field.)

But from a general, adult baseball-lover's point of view, here are my top 10 reflections:

1.) The Cubs pounded the Pittsburgh Pirates 13-1. One day later, they throttled the Bucs again 13-7. This Cubs team is loaded with talent, something their payroll had a little something to do with, I'm sure.

The Cubs should be a playoff team and World Series contender again this year. As a Cleveland fan, anytime I can see Pittsburgh take one on the chin, it's a real crowd-pleaser.

2.) The atmosphere at a Cubs game, particularly a weekend game like the one I attended, rivals that of a major college football game (i.e. Ohio State), and that's impressive considering about one-third of the people are present.

Wrigley's advantage is that it is nestled in this neighborhood full of 20-somethings who love two things: baseball and partying. (OK, three things ... stock options, as well.)

This, my friends, is the quintessential American neighborhood, even if it is kind of a graveyard for former frat boys. Walking to the ballpark for a 12:05 first pitch, people are playing cornhole in their yards and drinking Bloody Marys. For baseball!

This is a foreign — albeit totally pleasing — sight for an Ohioan, where if the ball isn't brown and pointy on the ends, you just don't quite "get up" for it as much as you could.

3.) A good mix of kids and families still file into the stands. I like this aspect, and I like that it doesn't seem to bother the hardened Chicagoans that many young adults are getting belligerently wasted around them.

After all, baseball is, first and foremost, for kids. It certainly makes me feel like a kid again. But the drunks and the families still seem to get along in the name of the Cubbies.

4.) Upon first seeing the ivy walls, I'll admit, I got the chills a little bit. Maybe that was the 55-degree wind and mist whipping off Lake Michigan, but more than likely it was that my baseball pilgrimage was finally complete.

My buddy, an erudite wisecracker who is lukewarm on baseball, looked at my euphoric visage and asked me if I was suffering from priapism. I replied, "It's not suffering if you enjoy it."

5.) I wanted bleacher seats, but my buddy and I had to settle for upper deck, just down the first base line from home plate. My view was partially obstructed, but I embraced it. After all, they just don't make ballparks like this anymore.

A bachelorette party of at least 10 started their festivities by sitting behind us for the first six innings, while the game was still interesting and while the beer was still flowing from the concession stands.

I won't elaborate too much because I don't know who's reading this that isn't 18 or hasn't relinquished their youthful innocence yet. Kids, go look up the word "debauchery," and I'll leave it at that.

6.) I attempted to score the game, which was a bad idea. First of all, it was a 13-1 blowout, and for anyone who's tried to score a baseball blowout, it's kind of like trying to figure out whether or not Roger Clemens hooked up with Mindy McCready before she was 18; it's leads to a lot of disturbing guessing.

Secondly, though Wrigley has the "no frills" scoreboard that eliminates the excessive marketing at other ballparks — and I appreciate that — it can be tough to track pitching changes, pinch-hitters and double-switches. National League baseball is kooky. My scorecard, I'm sure, has some blemishes.

7.) Cubs fans are uncontrollably jubilant when they score, practically throwing money and babies in celebration. I've never seen so many people make out in response to an RBI ground-out to short. This is probably a side effect from going a century without winning a World Series.

8.) Troughs in the bathrooms, no soap and no towels. Even though my chances of getting dysentary or cholera increased slightly, it was nostalgic to feel like I was relieving myself in the 1930s.

9.) The postgame Wrigleyville bar scene dwarfs any afterparty at any ballpark anywhere. If anyone wants to dispute this, invite me to your city for a ballgame. The first round is on me.

10.) I snapped my obligatory photo in front of Harry Caray's statue so that I won't have to do that when I returned.

I also piped up during "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" and actually subbed in "root, root, root for the Cub-bies." I always say "root, root, root for the Indians," but I compromised -- this time and this time only.

Stay posted for my reactions to Yankee Stadium, which should come within a week or so, after I venture back from New York. I'll be watching the Tribe play, so I'll probably need two posts: one on Indians analysis and another on ballpark analysis.

In either case, please stop reading my articles if I try to insert a "youse guys" into my next post. That's when we'll all know that I simply have nothing clever left to write.

Manny Ramirez Is Like an Ex-Girlfriend That Won't Go Away

John Carlisle — Mon, 21 Apr 2008 10:23:41 -0400

If you're a Cleveland Indians fan, Manny Ramirez is like a hot significant other that dumped you years ago -- and, tragically, is still hot, if not hotter, than when you were together.

It's awkward because you have to see each other once in a while.

I've noticed a few Tribe fans on the b/r who seem to still lust after Ramirez. They long for the days of yore when Ramirez manned right field in Cleveland, slugged doubles and home runs, and never legged out a ground ball. I'm sure they were even more hot and bothered with Manny's two-run, ninth inning blast off Joe Borowski Monday night that gave the Boston Bleepin' Red Sox a come-from-behind win over the Wahoos. But hot and bothered in a "I-hate-you-but-I-still-list-you-as-one-of-my-favorite-childhood-players" sort of way.

Sure, Ramirez has two World Series rings, and Cleveland has none. And sure, Ramirez has a fat contract, an adoring fan base in Boston and, at the rate he's been playing in the past couple of days, will crack his 500th career home run, oh, I don't know, tomorrow.

That said, I still wouldn't want him back. And I still wouldn't cheer for him if he came to the plate, nor will I when on his first ballot he gets inducted into the Hall of Fame.

It's hard to explain, but I guess it's a pride thing. I understand that in the winter of 2001, when Manny inked his 8-year, $160 million-deal with the Red Sox, he was only acting with business in mind. He essentially took his agent's word as gospel, and it's worked out for him. Despite his numerous mental and verbal gaffes, Boston embraces "Manny being Manny" like they embrace traffic on the Mass Pike. It annoys them a little sometimes, but mostly they laugh and realize they couldn't live without it. Really, the Cleveland diehards who remember watching him develop as a player should be happy for him.

But this is sports. There are winners and losers.

Remember Manny's stunt at home plate last year in Game 4? He admired a meaningless solo shot and showed up the opposition with a pregnant pause and self-exaltation at home plate. That's like when a ex-girlfriend grabs her new boyfriend and makes out with him right in front of you. Completely uncalled for. Casey Blake probably thought about tripping him as he rounded third but refrained from the poor sportsmanship as the Indians were seemingly bound for the fall classic, which they were until the fates intervened (Josh Beckett, Dustin Pedroia) and everything fell apart.

But last year is over. As are all of the years between now and when Manny left the Tribe. I mentioned earlier that when I attend games where Manny plays, I don't cheer. I also don't boo. I don't want to be disrespectful. When your "ex" gives you a cold "hello," you reply with the obligatory head-nod acknowledgement, don't you? That's kind of what it's like. By sitting on my hands and maintaining a stoic silence, I'm making my point. It's over. We've moved on. He's moved on. Let's all try to keep our dignity.

When Manny hits No. 500, knowing that he hit 236 of those with the Indians, I will send an obligatory head nod of acknowledgment in his direction. Nothing more, nothing less.

(That said, you'd better believe I have him on my fantasy team right now. He is raking in the points!)

Tribe in Trouble: Why It's Time for the Cleveland Indians to Worry

John Carlisle — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 04:47:49 -0400

I'm not sure what's shakier right now: the Indians’ pitching or the economy.

And Joe Borowski's disabled list stint—after blowing two April saves in fantastically painful ways—is kind of like the coming economic stimulus.

It will provide temporary relief but won't keep the ball club from getting screwed later. (Most of you will have to pay back that stimulus, by the way.)

The biggest problem the Tribe has isn't even Joe Blow or the closer position. It's the reigning AL Cy Young award winner, C.C. Sabathia. Sabathia is 0-3 with a preposterous 13.50 ERA after his shelling last night at the hands of the Detroit Tigers.

Though most of the damage came in a nightmarish fifth inning in which Sabathia did not record a single out, he totally harmed himself by walking five.

It was a troubling trend that fellow starter Fausto Carmona has also shown this April.

Analyst after analyst has said, "C.C.'s gonna snap out of it. He's too good." I sincerely hope they are all correct. But I wouldn't be me—the annoying, told-you-so, me—if I didn't point you to this post from the offseason.

I proposed the idea that if the Indians couldn't make a trade for Jason Bay or another everyday corner outfielder (didn't happen), and if they couldn't re-sign Sabathia before spring training started on their terms (also didn't happen), then they should shop him or trade him to get something for him before he bolts at contract's end.

As much as I hate to be wrong, sometimes I hate to be right. This is one of those times.

I got murdered for this idea by everyone who read it. Most were blinded by loyalty to No. 52 and because most of them never read Terry Pluto's book about the Indians, Dealing.

I was berated fiercely because one of the names I mentioned was Juan Pierre. I'll admit he does deliver an OPS akin to the attendance at most Florida Marlins games.

But, really, I imagined the Indians acquiring an outfielder, a closer (the Indians are without a legitimate one right now), and whatever prospects they could get to fill out the farm.

I suggested, logically, they trade him to a place like L.A., which is close to home for Sabathia. It has two organizations with the cash capabilities to pay him his astonishingly high market value when he becomes a free agent.

I won't rehash every ounce of logic I spewed there. Go back and read it yourself.

But what I will say is that Mark Shapiro—who is a genius for assembling the Indians’ core of Grady Sizemore, Victor Martinez, Travis Hafner, Jhonny Peralta, and Ryan Garko—couldn't quite put together a safe but bold offseason deal. This would have guaranteed the Indians as a winning ball club for years to come.

He put a little too much faith in Borowski, and he didn't recognize that Sabathia, in all likelihood, was going to go the route of Jim Thome and Manny Ramirez. This meant testing the free agent waters only to say "Siyanara" to the city on the lake.

With no changes or risks coming into 2008, the Indians’ organization was collectively sitting at a game of five-card draw, holding three fours and refusing to draw a card.

Too bad quite a few hands can beat a three-of-a-kind.

Sabathia may turn this around and go 17-3. The Indians might finally start hitting, climb out of this 5-10 hole they've gotten themselves into, and play right back to the top of the AL Central.

But Kansas City is better, Chicago is off to a startlingly good start with revived pitching, and Minnesota isn't as barren as everyone says. Plus, Detroit proved tonight how they can play their way back into the race and win the division: scorch everyone to death with the best one-through-nine in baseball.

What does the Tribe have? A lot of question marks.

They need a savior, an unexpected pick-me-up from someone we've written off.

Maybe it's Cliff Lee or Andy Marte or Josh Barfield. Maybe it's Ben Francisco, who most people are dubbing the next Carl Yastrzemski in comparison to Cleveland's woeful Jason Michaels/David Dellucci platoon. Maybe it's Trevor Crowe, Adam Miller, or Rafael Perez.

Call me a pessimist if you want, but it's probably not C.C. Sabathia. In retrospect, though, if he bombs this year, the Indians might be able to overpay him in the offseason and bring him back.

This rough start is enough to make you wish you could go back in time to October and shanghai Joel Skinner and Josh Beckett under cover of night.

I'll be watching the Indians at Yankee Stadium in May, and I really hope I don't have to bring a paper sack to wear over my head.

Maniac Manny Ramirez's ninth inning blast Monday was enough to remind us Wahoos of the world that we were so close yet we were—and are—so far away.