One Sheets to the Wind: Deucing on an Ace

As we all know, Ben Sheets was offered arbitration on Monday—thus preserving the slight possibility of Milwaukee’s ace to remain with the team for another season.

And whether you think he will decline arbitration or also think he will decline arbitration, it’s all just speculation at this point. As a mere fan and humble blogger, I will take it to the next step, skipping whether I think he’ll accept arbitration and going right into why I hope Sheets declines it and signs elsewhere.

Unlike Jack, I’m no numbers whiz, but to drop some statistical data of my own: 80 percent of Ben Sheets’ career, I’ve been at least 40 percent disappointed to see him pitch just over half a season and totally 69 Milwaukee’s payroll in the process.

For much of my adult life, I’ve been regaled with insightful commentary of a hero, a Southern-fried professional who single-handedly ended communism by spiking a curveball into Fidel Castro’s leathery beanbag—an ace.

What Sheets actually delivered in his time as a Brewer was a good, but not as good as advertised, injury risk with the ability to take over a game. But apart from select games and, well, pretty much the entire 2004 season, Sheets was far from great, further from healthy, and closer to average than most Milwaukee fans will allow themselves to think.

Direct your attention to the Totemgraph, the finest true indicator of a player’s overall quality. Notice how Mr. Sheets sits directly below former Cy Young winner/fellow Type A free agent Carsten C. Sabathia.

Sheets rests just above Dave Bush, a player who—like Sheets—has never won 14 games in a season and has definite strikeout capability. Dave Bush, though not as high on the Totemgraph, isn’t too much worse than Sheets, and where Bush may lack in quality he makes up for in affordability—not to mention the fact he can pitch an entire season without being sidelined with a completely partially non-existent torn set of balls middle finger.

The graphic also shows Sheets sitting just two totem heads above a cute, albeit athletically ineffective, baby. Do you want your ace just two totem heads above A BABY?!

In all, as Ben Sheets’ final days of official Brewerhood dwindle to a bittersweet nothing, I will acknowledge I’ve been a tad hard on the guy over the years. When healthy, he is a great pitcher—but how often does that even happen?

I’m sure his name will be (rightfully) mentioned with some of the all-time great Brewer hurlers—Teddy Higuera, Rollie Fingers, Juan Nieves, and Matt Kinney—a decade from now. But, for the money, Sheets isn’t worth bringing back. His days are numbered, his welcome worn, his price tag insufferable.

So before it becomes official, I would like to dole a hearty morsel of gratitude to one Benjamin Sheets. Thanks for all that you’ve done for the team I love. Thank you for the games won (or—in early seasons—kept in reach), the records broken, and the undying image of you biting your nails in the dugout during one of your numerous DL stints.

But, most of all, thank you for the first-round and delicious sandwich-round draft picks gained from your departure. Now get out of here! And don’t let the door hit you in the ass, because it would undoubtedly injure you.