Shallow | Center

The Forecast Calls for Pain

Pointless Storm Coverage and Poignant Reports of the Aftermath

The breathtaking, unbearably sad images and stories detailing the human suffering and devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina are a godsend. Those of us who weren't in harm's way need to realize that this kind of tragedy doesn't just happen in far-flung lands as remote from our daily lives as the dark side of the moon. It happens to our countrymen, to people who look like us and speak the same language and share a common history and culture. Not only will this spur us to open our wallets to relief efforts in the South, but it also should foster a much more real sense of what happens when earthquakes and floods and other such disasters strike foreign lands.

As praiseworthy as the media's efforts have been yesterday and today, on Monday you couldn't watch any of the broadcast coverage of the unfolding storm without realizing how inane much of it was. Whereas the reporting of Katrina's aftermath can humanize the destruction, watching grown men and women struggle to talk in the midst of torrential rain and howling winds is pointless. The intended you-are-there immediacy, so compelling when people return to the scenes of destruction and realize just how horrible things are, never materializes during the coverage of the actual hurricane. Instead you're left shaking your head the reporters' foolishness while they tell you, in essence, that it's really raining hard and it's really windy.

Gail Shister ran an interesting piece in yesterday's Inquirer exploring this very issue, while Salon's TV writer, Heather Havrilesky, put aside her usual snark to file a sober report on her viewing of the coverage Sunday and Monday. Would that all journalism be as thoughtful.

New York State of Blind

Phillies Trip Over Themselves in a Disappointing Loss to the Mets

Launching their stretch drive last night, the Phillies played like a team that hasn't seen the postseason since Bill Clinton's first year in the Oval Office. They jumped out to a 4-1 lead in the second, then didn't score the rest of the way, and that futility allowed the Mets to hang around. New York scratched out a run in the fifth and another in the seventh, and then sealed the win when Ramon Castro, the No. 8 hitter, a guy with fewer than 300 career at-bats, pounded a hanging slider from Ugueth Urbina into the left-field seats for a three-run tater.

Sure, it's just one game, but with Pedro Martinez going for the Mets tonight, last night's contest would have been a good one to get. Worse, though, is that it was New York that looked loose and energized, while the Phillies seemed to have trouble breathing. Rob Tejeda turned in another fine start, but Ryan Madson (walk, hit batter, run-scoring wild pitch) and Urbina (two walks) both were victimized by their own wildness. Charlie Manuel got tossed in the fifth. And in the ninth, the deflated Phils went weakly in order, with only Chase Utley having anything that resembled a decent at-bat. Of particular distress was Jimmy Rollins's checked-swing punchout on a pitch in the dirt.

To top things off (or bottom things out) Florida, Washington, and Houston all won last night. So, sure, it's just one game, but this is the time of year when everything is magnified, and it would help if the Phils played these critical games without seeming to have the ghost of Larry Bowa kicking their ass in the clubhouse.

On the Same Page

Inky, DN Mail It In with Identical Off-Day Pieces

Those who argue that the supposedly separate editorial staffs of the Inquirer and Daily News are actually marching in lockstep collected some ammo this morning. With no game to write about, each paper prints a story (Inky; DN) assessing the various teams scrambling to capture the N.E. East flag and the league's wild-card slot, and a column (Sheridan; Hagen) that says, essentially, hey, this is some race, huh?

All the more reason to check out non-mainstream sources, where one can find such various items as a detailed recommendation against signing Billy Wagner to a three-year contract; an interesting take on the Phils' prime-time loss to Arizona Sunday; a provocative evaluation of the team's fielding prowess; and much, much more. Happy reading.

Near East

Phils Return from West to Face a Tight Division and Significant Games

There should be no shame in splitting a six-game trip out West, but when you lose the final two games of the trip to the pathetic Diamondbacks, as the Phillies did, there's an inescapable sense of an opportunity missed. The National League wild-card race has tightened, while in the division the Braves, just 2-1/2 up a few days ago, have padded their lead by an additional two games. Tonight's very important Atlanta-Washington game was washed out by Hurricane Katrina, and will be made up as part of a doubleheader Wednesday.

And so the stage is set for the season's final month. The Phils play three at Shea tomorrow, and then three at RFK over the weekend; I'll be in Washington for Friday's game. They return to Philadelphia after two weeks on the road for a critical set -- Hell, who am I kidding? They're all critical -- with the Astros, and I'll be at Citizens Bank Park for next Monday's opener. After the popped balloons of 2004 and 2004, most of us said in April that we'd be happy with meaningful games to watch in September.

So let's play ball.

Statistical Significance

The 'Times' Takes a Look at the 'Moneyball' Debate

The closest thing baseball has to a culture war, the debate over the relative values of statistical analysis and gut-level instinct in recruiting and development players, is the subject of a very interesting Week in Review piece in today's New York Times. Writer David Leonhardt tabs the publication of Michael Lewis's Moneyball two years ago as the war's first shot, and goes on to quote various folks from each side, all the while noting the successes and failures of both approaches. Leonhardt does appear to betray his bias with this paragraph, though:

Academic research, however, is pretty much on the side of statistics. Whether diagnosing patients or evaluating job candidates, human beings vastly overestimate their ability to make judgments, research shows. Numbers and analysis almost always make people better.

Unfortunately, he ultimately indulges in an irritating case of wishy-washiness, a classic instance of "on one hand, on the other hand":

Indeed, what makes this fight truly comparable to those that periodically roil the worlds of art history or foreign policy is that the differences between the sides aren't as great as the sniping between them suggests.

[Cardinals manager and old-guard proponent Tony] La Russa spends much of his time jotting down information on index cards and studying statistics in his office, while members of the new guard often say the future belongs to teams that combine number crunching with scouting and injury prevention.

Are you reading, Ed Wade? I mean, do the Phillies do any number crunching? Does anyone at Citizens Bank Park know how to even spell "sabermetrics"?

Anyway, as intriguing as the column was, I was most struck by a quote attributed to La Russa concerning the insistence of the Baseball Prospectus crowd that stats are the way to build a better mousetrap:

"It's been a little irritating," La Russa added, "because there's a certain arrogance with that whole group."

Insert your own pot-and-kettle joke here.

Intentionally Walking

Fare Thee Well, A Citizen's Blog

The recently announced shuttering of Michael Berquist's A Citizen's Blog is a blow for the Phlogosphere. Mike was the go-to guy for sabermetric analysis of the Phils; no one else did it as often, or as well. While the rest of us fumbled around with pretty words and too-clever turns of phrase to describe the ongoing clown show that is Phillies baseball, A Citizen's Blog provided serious, statistical explication. It was an invaluable resource, and it will be missed.

Mike's reasons for hanging up his keyboard are familiar to all of us who have lives outside the blogosphere. When he notes that "the quality of my work has been slipping," that "my posts have gotten tired and uninteresting," and that "I don't think I'm doing the work that I did when I first started blogging," well, I take a look at the last few weeks of Shallow Center and cringe. The job has been very busy, and home has been equally chaotic -- neither in a bad way -- and churning out copy that I don't get paid for can seem unappetizing during such times. Lately I've barely looked at other blogs; despite the generosity shown by those who have wandered my way to take a look and offer a comment, I've hardly had time to check out the fine, fine work my peers are doing, and that does not make me feel good. My solution always has been to force myself to plug away, to work my way out of it, in hopes that I'll hit a groove that makes me remember why I started doing this in the first place. But the temptation to chuck it all has crossed my mind more than once.

In other words, Mike, I both understand and respect your decision. I eagerly await your return to the blogosphere, and until then, Godspeed. And go, Phils, of course.

Brave New World

Phillies Thump D'Backs, Draw Closer to Braves

The ever-interesting National League playoff picture got even tighter yesterday, with the Phillies hammering Arizona and the Braves losing. The hometown nine are now just 2-1/2 behind Atlanta in the division, and all of 1-1/2 up on the Mets, the Marlins, and the Astros in the wild-card race. The Phils are 25-15 since the All-Star break and are 11 games over .500 for the first time since September 2003. With 28 of their final 33 games coming against Houston, the Braves, the Mets, Florida, and Washington, they've picked a great time of the season to play good baseball. There's really nothing profound to draw from all of this; rather, I'm left with the fervent hope that this isn't the Phillies' usual August tease, that their play augurs a September of exciting nights at the ballpark and obsessive scoreboard-watching.

Update: A tough-to-swallow, 2-0 loss to Arizona this afternoon leaves Vicente Padilla trying to secure the series win Sunday night.

The Talk of the Town

'PEN to Switch Format, Take on 'IP

The news from this morning's papers (Inquirer; Daily News) that WPEN/950-AM will switch from its oldies format to sports talk in early October is an interesting one. 'PEN will be taking on WIP, which from a purely sports perspective seems ripe for the picking. What 610 does it does well, but its overreliance on frat-boy hijinks and a handful of hosts who are more interested in berating listeners than engaging them in conversation leaves the hard-core sports fan stuck trying to pull in New York's WFAN or Trenton's 920-AM. 950 will not be an ESPN Radio affiliate, which means that 920 is still the only place locally to find the Worldwide Leader. Thus far the only announced on-air talent is 'IP expat Jody McDonald and, sigh, Jim Rome, whose big claim to fame is calling former Rams quarterback Jim Everett "Chris Evert" on a TV show a while back, eliciting a predictably violent reaction. If this is the kind of dialogue we can expect from the new station, the folks at 610 are probably safe.

What's Going On Here?

Dare We Call the Phillies 'Contenders'?

Hmmm.

For the second time in just over a week, the Phillies flew to the Coast and then took two of three from the home team. After last night's 7-4 win over the Giants, they're up a game and a half in the N.L. wild-card standings, and just three and a half back of the Braves in the East.

Is this really happening? Are the Phils making a legitimate showing in late August? Bill Conlin yesterday advised us just to enjoy the race, but there's simply no way I'll be able to shake my head ruefully and laugh at the merriment of it all should they cough it up. Earlier today my father lamented, "They are, AGAIN, luring people in with a mimi surge towards the playoffs......the September swoon will be here soon enough." And, indeed, as much as I've pledged to strive for optimism, as much as I wish I could approach the race with Conlin's dispassionate, arms-length que sera, sera, the weight of past reality must be acknowledged. Watching the Astros (or the Nats or the Fish or the Mets) slip past the Phillies into the playoffs would be as gut-wrenching as it always is.

So will this year be different? Chatting on 920-AM late this afternoon, Jayson Stark said he'd noticed the Phils really coming together as a team over these past few weeks. He cautioned, though, that with so many important games coming up against teams with quality pitching, the Phillies would have to find a way to manufacture runs, a skill they've not been inclined to master over the last few seasons. If Stark's first point is correct, and the club is playing with a sense of urgency and camaraderie, is it possible that they may realize the need to do something more than show up at the park and not fall asleep? Might they bear down and pick each other up and do that non-boxscore heavy lifting that we read so much about?

Hmmm.

Ain't Nothing Like the Real Thing, Baby

Wrigley Lives Up to Its Billing

Oriole Park at Camden Yards. Citizens Bank Park. PNC Park. SBC Park. Beautiful stadiums, all, shining retro jewels that channel the times before soulless, cookie-cutter, multipurpose, concrete behemoths.

But if you really want to experience baseball as the sport's gods intended, you need to find an honest-to-God ballpark. I'd already checked Fenway and Yankee off my personal to-do list when I hopped aboard the blue-line train in Rosemont Monday night, then transfered to the 152 bus for the three-mile ride east along Addison Avenue. I stepped off the bus and found myself awash in a sea of blue shirts and caps, the appealingly humble and entirely beautiful facade of Wrigley Field rising proudly in front of me.

The Braves were in the Windy City to start a three-game set, and Tim Hudson and Carlos Zambrano provided a crackling pitchers' duel throughout the night. Chipper Jones smacked a pair of two-run taters, the second, in the eighth, proving to be the difference. Hudson went the distance, and with their 4-2 win the Braves gained a game on the Phils, who were shut out later in San Francisco.

As entertaining as the game itself was, the Wrigley experience was transcendent. Passionate, knowledgeable fans of all ages packed the place to root on their Cubbies, and they never gave up hope. The place was a big, rollicking party, with the result a secondary concern, behind having fun. During the seventh-inning stretch every single soul in the ballpark sang "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" as loudly as he could, and this without even being led by a celebrity -- it was some no-name Cubs pitcher from the '80s who was Monday's Harry Caray stand-in.

The intimacy of Wrigley is startling; "friendly confines" is no empty phase. There are no exploding video screens, no blaring music shrilling from the speakers, no "wacky" mascots to distract from the game. There was just ... baseball and fun. After seeing the place on TV for decades, I found the familiar surroundings -- the ivy walls, the sight of Waveland Avenue beyond the left-field fence, the green scoreboard looming above center -- to be comforting and thrilling. It was as if I'd been plopped in the middle of one of my favorite movies.

Ultimately I was reminded of a scene toward the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. Indy has boosted a bazooka and gotten the drop on the Nazis, and is threatening to destroy the Ark of the Covenant unless Marian is released. The French mercenary Belloq calls his bluff, daring Jones to fire the weapon. "Indiana," he says, "you and I are simply passing through history. This" -- here he taps the Ark -- "this is history."