TATB's Long-Awaited, Half-Assed, Red Sox-Slanted, Spring Training Preview Capsules: NL West

(First in a six-part series, teams listed in predicted order of finish.)

LOS ANGELES DODGERS
Foul tips and other observations: Confession: I had no idea until recently that Derek Lowe tied for the NL lead in wins last season (16). Yes, I wish he was still in Boston, and so do most of the bars . . . The Juan Pierre signing was ignorant enough on its own merit, but the fact that it effectively blocks Matt Kemp (a Dave Winfield wannabe) from the big leagues makes it downright inexplicable . . . Andre Ethier? Eh, he's a JAG . . . I'm immediately docking them five victories due to the Grady Factor. The dope still can't manage a bullpen without an illustrated manual.

Breakthrough player: Jonathan Broxton. Sure, he looks like he swallowed Sidney Ponson whole, but with 97 strikeouts in 76 innings a season ago, he's reminiscent of a young Eric Gagne. No wonder the Sox insisted on including him in any trade discussions for Manny Ramirez. Come to think of it, last year was kind of his breakthrough, so let's just say the Dodgers have a number of other candidates who qualify here, most notably starter Chad Billingsley, third baseman Andy LaRoche, and first baseman James Loney.

Breakdown player: We're resisting the temptation to suggest Nomar. The longer he is gone from Boston, the more fondly we remember him, and we can't help but wish him good health. So let's go with Jeff (You're A Redneck If . . .) Kent, who at age 38 is coming off his least productive season since '96 and whose greasy fingerprints were all over those anonymous quotes critical of J.D. Drew. He was a lot more tolerable as clubhouse a foil for Barry Bonds.

Completely random Bill James stat: Brad Penny led the NL in pitches at or above 95 MPH with 817, and also had the fastest average fastball (93.9). I'm beginning to think he and Josh Beckett were separated at birth.

SAN DIEGO PADRES
Foul tips and other observations: Quick, who's managing this crew now? . . . If you said Bud Black, nice work, Gammons . . . Count me among those who don't think Marcus Giles of the Incredibly Shrinking Giles Brothers will rejuvenate his career in San Diego . . . Definition of underachieving: Jake Peavy, 11-14, 4.09. He should win 15 games on stuff alone . . . Has Kevin Towers figured out how he's going to pants Theo Epstein in a trade yet ? After the Mirabelli debacle, Theo would be wise to stop talking his mentor's calls . . . That said, Josh Bard won't come within 60 points of last season's batting average (.333) . . . God bless Todd Walker for his performance in the 2003 postseason, but at this point, his glove is nothing more than a prop.

Breakthrough player: Kevin Kouzmanoff. Scouts say he can swing it, but question whether he will be able to handle third base defensively. Given the lack of thumpers in the Padres' lineup and the price (Josh Barfield) the Padres paid to acquire him, he won't lack for chances. Hit .389 in Double A and .353 in Triple A before coming up to Cleveland late last season.

Breakdown player: David Wells. Boomer's long overdue for another bout with gout.

Completely random Bill James stat: Cla Meredith held opposing batters to a .170 average, best among NL relievers. And somewhere, Bob Lobel twitches with delight.

ARIZONA DIAMONDBACKS
Foul tips and other observations: I didn't get the Randy Johnson trade at first - why give up anything of substance when the Yankees so clearly wanted nothing to do with him anymore? - but given his popularity in Arizona and the fact that he could probably win 10 games just by showing up in the National League, I suppose it can be justified somewhat . . . I still can't forgive former Sox assistant GM Josh Byrnes for letting the Yankees off the hook, however . . . Brandon Webb is nasty, but he has to be the most obscure NL Cy Young winner since John Denny in '83 . . . If you predicted during his .207-3-29 tank job with the 2002 Sox that Tony Clark would still be employed as a big-league baseball player five years later, I guess your crystal ball is superior to mine . . . Beanbag reliever Casey Daigle is married to softball icon Jennie Finch. Call me finicky, but I don't consider him quite as fortunate as others do.

Breakthrough player: Let's see . . . there's Stephen Drew . . . Carlos Quentin . . . Chris Young . . . Conor Jackson . . . geez, take your pick. The D-Backs are as loaded as any team in the game.

Breakdown player: Johnson. He's 41, stands a gawky 6-foot-10, has a chronically bad back and shot knees. Yeah, he'll hold up just fine.

Completely random Bill James stat: Johnson led the American League in run support last season (7.51).

SAN FRANCISCO GIANTS
Foul tips and other observations: New slogan: Baseball Has Been Barry, Barry Good To Me! . . . All right, sorry for that. Hey, some people think Lenny Clarke is funny, so you never know what jokes will fly . . . There's no doubt the two Barrys are sharing the Bay Area spotlight, as Bonds tries to catch Aaron before the feds catch him, and Zito tries to pitch up to a contract that will pay him at least twice what he's worth . . . As fun as he his to watch, make no mistake, Zito has officially become a junkballer - he was second in the AL in pitches thrown below 80 MPH. A certain Boston knuckleballer was first . . . But what we said about the Big Unit applies here: In the NL, he should win double figures just by making 30-plus starts . . . If the Giants were better, I'd be tempted to throw a few bucks down on Matt Cain as the 2007 Cy Young winner. He's the real ace here . . . Dave Roberts: wonderful guy, hero for all ages, atrocious long-term signing.

Breakthrough player: Tim Lincecum: No, I haven't seen him pitch either, but just about every prospect guide says he's K-Rod's doppleganger in terms of delivery and stuff. That's good enough for me - and besides, just about everyone else on this team other than Cain qualifies for AARP.

Breakdown player: Bonds. Here's hoping Henry Aaron pulls a Gillooly on him before he can completely tarnish the record books. Hell, Bud Selig might beat him to it.

Completely random Bill James stat: Zito led the American League in pitches per start last season (107.8) and batters faced (945) . . . so at least he's durable, which is nice.

COLORADO ROCKIES
Foul tips and other observations: The babbling owner can deny it all he wants, but I still say Todd Helton is an ex-Rocky before the ballclub breaks camp . . . Any chance the Yankees might pounce, preventing Theo from bringing the aging albatross to Boston? . . . Given how productive they are, I probably shouldn't admit that I wouldn't recognize Garrett Atkins and Matt Holliday if they showed up as ringers on a rival softball team . . . You say Clint Barmes, I say Dustin Pedroia in a higher altitude . . . Lefty Jeff Francis has a chance to be the Rockies' first homegrown ace: at age 25, he was 13-11 with a 4.16 ERA . . . Remember when skipper Clint Hurdle was pegged as baseball's next surefire superstar as a kid with Kansas City? Man, I am getting old . . . The mummified remains of Javy Lopez are on the Rockies' active roster. Suddenly, Doug Mirabelli's continued employment makes slightly more sense.

Breakthrough player: Francis. Bet you didn't know he led the NL in shutouts last season (7).

Breakdown player: Is Vinny Castilla still around? No? The we'll cop out and go with Helton continuing his four-season decline, should he surprise us and stay.

Completely random Bill James stat: Holliday hit two of the five longest homers in the NL last season.

You ain't a beauty, but hey, you're all right

Face-down in a stream of semi-consciousness while Bruce thunders through my earbuds . . .


RED SOX/MLB
My hypothetical Hall of Fame ballot would look like this: Cal Ripken (as obvious as it gets, though his .276 career average raises at least one of my eyebrows), Tony Gwynn (how I wish the strike hadn't interrupted his run at .400 in '94; he had the ability and demeanor to pull it off), Goose Gossage (the second-best closer I've ever seen after Mo Rivera, I'm still dumbstruck that Bruce Sutter beat him to Cooperstown), Andre Dawson (438 homers, 318 stolen bases, 8 Gold Gloves . . . had he spend his heyday in Boston or New York instead of playing in front of Youppi!, you bet he'd be in already), and Jim Rice (okay, I'm biased because he was nice to me when I was 8 years old . . . but he was the most dominating hitter in the American League for a decade, and I find it ridiculous that he's punished for not being mediocre at the end of his career and fattening up his career totals with three or four .257-15-75 seasons.) . . . As for Mark McGwire: Uh-uh. Not yet, anyway. I need more information about just how many big-league ballplayers were juicing, particularly during the fraudulent summer of '98, before I cast a final judgment here . . . I suppose you could call me hypocrite for this, but I would vote for Barry Bonds. My contention is that he was a Hall of Fame lock even before he started gulping down and injecting every concoction this side of battery acid . . . Come to think of it, I think I'd also vote for Alan Trammell, a great-field, great-hit shortstop who was the heart of some fine Tigers teams and who was absolutely robbed of the MVP in '87 . . . Let's see, he's 43, famously surly, is coming off back surgery, had an ERA of 5.00 last year, is a mechanical mess, makes something like $16 million next year, and has the nerve to ask for a contract extension. Yep, I completely understand why the Diamondbacks would consider giving the Yankees a quality prospect or two for Randy Johnson. You're a sly one, Josh Byrnes . . . Barry Zito's K-rate has been shrinking as his walk rate has grown, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I thought he was on his way to become this decade's Steve Avery. Yet, unlike ESPN's excellent Keith Law, I'm not repulsed by the $126 million contract that Giants threw his way. He is durable, he's not yet 30, he's a hell of a competitor, he's immensely likeable, he still has quality stuff despite some lost velocity, and in the feeble National League, I don't see why he can't average 16-18 wins for the first three or four years of his deal. Will he be worth all that money? Of course not. But he won't be Mike Hampton, either . . . Don't know if I've ever mentioned this here or not, but one of my coolest memories at Fenway is standing on the field, oh, 40 feet from Zito before Game 3 of the 2003 ALCS and watching him snap off curveball after curveball while trying to work out some mechanical kinks with pitching coach Rick Peterson. Having seen it live and up close, I honestly have no idea how anyone ever hits Zito's hook - the thing just disappears - and the funny part is, he seemed pissed about how supposedly poorly he was throwing it that day. I always think of that when I find myself forgetting how amazingly talented and dedicated these guys have to be just get to the big leagues . . . The opening day closer for your Boston Red Sox? Right now, my money is on Manny Delcarmen. I'm talking myself into believing in the kid . . . Okay, I'm really starting to worry that J.D. Drew is stuck in an MRI tube somewhere. Is this thing going to get done or what?

PATRIOTS/NFL
Maybe I'm in denial, but I'm still clinging to a granule of hope that Rodney Harrison will spend Sunday scaring the courage out of Jerricho Cotchery and Laveranues Coles. And if he really can't go this week, then I'll transfer my optimism to next week. After all Harrison's been through, I'm skeptical that a ligament sprain is going to end his season now . . . Even sans Rodney, I think the Pats pound the Jets, which should scare the living hell out of those of you who bleed red and blue considering my record on predictions this season is rather similar to the Raiders' won-lost record . . . But the Patriots are a better team, they have a better coach and a better quarterback, they're much healthier than they were during the Jets' upset at Gillette, they won't be caught napping this time, the field (the great equalizer the last time around) is obviously in much better condition, and Hank Poteat is starting at corner for the Jets. Seems to me that's a lot of check marks in their favor . . . He might be a latte-swilling, self-aggrandizing oaf, but Peter King still gets it right football-wise every once in a while: He had the sense to put Ty Warren on his All-Pro team . . . Dennis Green IS WHAT WE THOUGHT HE WAS!!! (A completely inept NFL coach) . . . He's fun to watch, no doubt, but Michael Vick is the very definition of a coach-killer. If I'm running the Falcons, I shop Mr. Mexico in the offseason, with the hopes of getting 90 cents on the dollar, then take my chances with Matt Schaub. They might not sell as much merchandise, but they'd be a better team . . . If Tony Romo doesn't find his mojo soon, he can forget about Carrie Underwood, because his "American Idol" dating pool is going to be reduced to William Hung and that big chick who was kicked off the show for doing nudie pics . . . Does Drew Bledsoe still go to the games? Really? Are we sure that's not just a propped-up Fathead?. . . I used to think Matt Millen must have compromising pictures of the Lions' owner to keep his job despite conclusive proof that he is an incompetent boob, but now I think it has to be something more sinister, like, say, a snuff film involving Marty Mornhinweg, or maybe a picture of William Clay Ford wearing a cheesehead. But now that we know that Millen is staying, at least we have a pretty good idea of where Dwayne Jarrett will end up . . . If Bill Belichick is duplicitous pond scum, as the old insult goes, then what does that make Nick Saban? Something unprintable, I'm thinking. Alabama is lusting after one slippery creep of a coach. . . You get the sense that Tiki Barber never passes a mirror without lingering to admire himself for a moment? I give him credit for getting out while all of his parts are still in working order, but geez, you'd think he's season-long Life After Football seminar might be off-putting to a few of his teammates who still put a high priority on their day job . . . Now that everyone has low expectations for them, is it possible that this is the year Peyton and the Ponies get to the Super Bowl? Nahhhhhhh . . . Herm Edwards does have the good sense to run Larry Johnson 40 times against Indy's horrendous run defense, right? He's not going to pull a Josh McDaniels and shun all common sense in favor of the passing game, right? Right? Herm? . . . I fear Baltimore, assuming Steve McNair can keep his leprosy in remission for the postseason. He's always been a quarterback who's much better than his statistics, and their defense is so deep, Ray Lewis might be their fourth-best linebacker at this point . . . So Matt Leinart is hooking up with Britney Spears now? Geez, guess he probably didn't see those pictures, huh? . . . Man, the NFC is just horrendous. If I had to pick one team from the Junior Varsity Conference to get to the Super Bowl, I suppose I'd go with Seattle, for no other reason than Shaun Alexander is finally healthy . . . Think I'm rooting for Philly, though. Andy Reid has my eternal respect (and probably his team's, too) for basically telling T.O. to bleep himself last season . . . All I knew about Darrent Williams was that he was a royal pest against the Patriots, and right now I'm wishing that's all I still knew. Mike Shanahan's heartfelt testimonial made Williams sound like a genuinely nice kid, one we'd all have enjoyed knowing. What a shame that we now know him as one more young American who met a senseless demise at the end of a gun.

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As for today's reason The Office's Jenna Fischer is the Official Muse of TATB, Increasingly Annoyed Wife Excluded:


Not only is she melt-the-waistband-on-your-underoos hot, but she's downright funny . . . and in that mean sort of way we kind of dig around here. Check out the punchline on this snippet from her blog yesterday, and tell me you didn't at least snicker:

A lot of people I know ask me "What is it like to be famous?" Well, I'm only a little bit famous and it has been adjustment. When I'm out in public and people are looking at me shop or buy coffee or get gas, it takes some actual effort to be my authentic self. People make snap judgments about you and those stories stick. I'm guilty of it myself. I've met a few celebrities and later gone to a party and said something like, "Oh, I met her – bad skin." As if that one 30 second encounter is all I needed to make such a sweeping judgment. My skin is pretty nice most of the time but right now I have 3 giant zits. Anyone who has met me in the last 4 days probably thinks I have horrible skin. I don't wear much makeup when I'm not working. My choices are: put on makeup to cover my bad skin (which is what gives me the breakouts in the first place) or walk around zits galore and let the judgments fall where they may. I choose option two. And, by the way, this is why I love Britney Spears. She is Option 2 all the time.

And somewhere, Matt Leinart itches himself and wonders why doesn't get the joke.

Three random 1989 Topps baseball cards

A new Nine Innings column is on deck, likely to be posted late Sunday night. In the meantime, here's a pretty decent three-man rotation for your consideration . . .


He may have lost his slider, but all these years later, damned if The Unit still doesn't have his boyish good looks.


A heartwarming human interest story who became a hell of a pitcher by any measure, the last Yankee I sincerely rooted for, and as Tim Brown's terrific feature in the L.A. Times this morning reminds us, a decent and honest man. If you don't like Jim Abbott, you're hopeless.


Smoltz and the Braves missed the playoffs the season this card came out. They missed them the next year, too. And they haven't missed them since. Astounding. You might think I've taken one too many tomahawk chops to the head, but even considering their recent nosedive, I'm not writing off Smoltz or Atlanta just yet.

Catching up

Quick thoughts on the Sox while my daughter takes her afternoon snooze . . .

• Oh, one day, they'll be right. One of these years, Manny Ramirez will suffer a slump that extends through the summer, and all the morning show jackasses who are quick to suggest trading the one of the most productive hitters of all time for a collection of worn-down gamers and prospects they couldn't pick out of a pack of baseball cards will almost be justified in their feeding frenzy. But after Manny's 4-homer fireworks display during the Yankees series - you could just see him getting locked in, couldn't you? - I am glad to report that such a nosedive will not occur this season. Manny is being Manny once again, and I mean that in the 45-homer, 125-RBI sense. The haters will just have to find something else to occupy their time - making ignorant fun of Wily Mo, I suppose, or wondering why Renteria bunted for a hit against the Orioles in that game a year or so ago, or dare I suggest even watching a game to its conclusion once in a while.

• Oh-fer-5 with four strikeouts? Guess there's no need to drill Big Papi now, huh, Mike Vaccaro?

• I've written a lot of idiotic things in this space, and to quote that painful Red Roof Inn commercial we're force-fed 60 times per Sox telecast, chances are better than "remote" that I'll write a lot of idiotic things in the future. But I have to admit, it's going to be a long time before I spew something as stupid as my recent comparison of Lenny DiNardo to Andy Pettitte. What can I say? Sometimes the medication fails me.

• I believe A-Rod when he claims he had no idea where the ball was during his three-run homer Tuesday night. I will say, however, that only a five-star phony of his magnitude would evoke such skepticism.

• I'm officially worried about Jason Varitek. I don't know if he's hurt (remember him hobbling down to first a few weeks back?) or if the World Baseball Classic had an adverse affect on him, but something is not right. His swing has never been Griffeyesque, but now it's downright hideous, and even mediocre pitchers are having little trouble messing up his timing. Maybe it's just a slump - probably it's just a slump - but his age equals his uniform number now, and as every study suggests, very few catchers are productive at 33 and beyond.

• You say Willie Harris, I say Donnie Sadler with slower wheels.

• I've always liked Gabe Kapler - he's probably the most articulate athlete I've ever interviewed, and he just plain gets it, as evidenced again in this morning's Bob Ryan column - but as a ballplayer, he seemed like little more than a replacement-level journeyman, someone you're always trying to upgrade upon. But after six weeks of Dustan Mohr and Willie Harris, well, thank goodness he'll return soon to remind us that a fifth outfielder can actually be useful. Welcome back, Kapler. The Fenway Sweathogs have missed you.


• Trust me, I am not making this accusation in hindsight: Terry Francona bleeped up by sticking with Tim Wakefield too long Tuesday night. Ten straight balls is a pretty clear indication that a pitcher has lost it, and when a knuckleballer such as Wakefield suddenly goes bad, crooked numbers can go up on the scoreboard in as fast as you can say walk-walk-homer. But I am not going to fault Francona for leaving in Matt Clement to take a beating last night, because I'm convinced the manager was sending the player a message: You were pissed we skipped your turn against the Yankees last week? Prove me wrong. Prove to me you can handle the pressure, pitch out of trouble and win a meaningful game. In the end, all that Clement proved was that his manager's limited faith in him was justified. I doubt he'll be pitching against the Yankees again anytime soon if the Sox can help it.

• Kyle Farnsworth is by all accounts a meathead, but does he ever have some filthy stuff - maybe even enough to overcome his Jeff Weaver-Kenny Rogers-Ed Whitson meltdown potential. If I were a Yankee fan, I'd much rather see him on the mound than his predecessor, Tom Gordon.

• One more item regarding Clement: Don't know if you noticed last night, but after he got hit by Bernie Williams's line drive, he began flinching at batted balls that were nowhere near him. Coincidentally - or maybe not - that's also when his command and concentration went on the fritz. You'd be a fool not to believe that last summer's frightening incident in Tampa Bay remained in his consciousness, but until last night, I had no idea that it was still affecting him to this extent. But for every pitcher who recovers from being drilled in the head with a liner - Mike Mussina and Bill Swift come to mind - there are the Bryce Flories and Herb Scores, hurlers who never feel comfortable or safe on the mound again, and thus never pitch effectively. I'm not saying Clement is in the latter category, but I'm not ready to say he isn't, either.

• Scott Erickson and Terrence Long to the rescue? And Erubiel Durazo and Richard Hidalgo are on the way? Well, damn, let's just concede that 27th championship and get on with enjoying a Sox-free, stress-free summer already. Seriously, you'd think with all of their resources - and Brian Cashman's supposed acumen as a GM, of which I remain skeptical - the Yankees would do a better job of accumulating second-tier talent and maybe even an actual bench. The days of Darryl Strawberry, Role Player, must seem long ago to the Bronx faithful.

• I'm not one to write off a future Hall of Fame pitcher after a handful of rough starts . . . but man, Randy Johnson is a mess, overthrowing his fastball and sacrificing any semblance of command to make up for the MPH father time has taken. And his once-unhittable slider? It's so flat, it might as well have a neon Hit Me sign. Giving up a Mass Pike bomb to Manny is one thing, but when Kevin Youkilis is swinging from his heels against you, you know you've got troubles. It'll be interesting to see how - make that if - Johnson recovers from this. He clearly has no use for Jorge Posada, and with inexperienced Ron Guidry drawling in one ear and know-it-all Joe Kerrigan babbling into the other, it seems he's got a lot of people telling him what he's doing wrong, but no one yet with the solution.

As for today's Completely Random Baseball Card:



Speaking of Guidry, this kid is his second coming - yes, I think Kazmir is that talented. For a Mets fan, this has to be the equivalent of seeing Jeff Bagwell in a Red Sox uniform.