This is a difficult weekend to process for Blue Jays fans, die-hards and newcomers alike. Everybody is frustrated by the performances that led to trailing the Texas Rangers 2-0 in the AL Division Series, and being faced with three straight must-win games. Fans are looking for someone or something to blame; a reason, a scapegoat, or at least a focus for our emotions. Let’s look at some options and see if we can find a useful target for our feelings, and maybe learn something about a Jays team that defies simple explanation.
One Season, Two Teams
The baseball season is frequently split into three parts: pre-All-Star break, post-break, and the playoffs. We have seen three wildly different Jays teams in these periods.
Pre-break, the Jays were struggling to play .500 ball, despite playing in an AL East that no team seemed willing to lead and a run differential that led the league by such a large margin, it was irrelevant to discuss second place. Blame for the team’s underachievement was thrown everywhere, including Alex Anthopoulos’ failure to address the team’s pitching staff, John Gibbons’ managing and Jose Reyes’ defense; fans were calling for all three to be relieved of their duties.
Post-break, the Jays were hotter than any team in baseball. A series of trades at and after the deadline strengthened the team considerably, and Anthopoulos received well-deserved accolades for addressing all of the team’s issues. Fans and media alike attributed the turnaround to these deadline trades: upgraded defence up the middle, the addition of Tulo’s bat, the presence of an actual left fielder in left field and, of course, the acquisition of rental ace, David Price. The Jays were 53-51 at the trade deadline; they clinched the AL East on the back of a 39-14 run.
The Effect of the Trades
If we compare statistics for the period after the trade deadline, can we account for the Jays’ transition from two games above .500, to twenty-seven?
Price won nine games for Toronto, which nine wins more than they would have had with Hutchison starting down the stretch. Tulowitski hit .239 with 5 HR and 17 RBI for Toronto, while missing twenty games following an impact with Kevin Pillar’s adamantium chin. Without Tulo, Toronto’s improved defence up the middle included Munenori Kawasaki and Cliff Pennington; those three players combined for 0 errors for Toronto, compared to the three errors Jose Reyes made in 47 games with Colorado. Tulo, Muni and Pennington combined to go 57-for-266 for the Jays (.214) while Reyes hit .259 with the Rockies. Ben Revere, meanwhile, hit .274 while taking his at-bats from Chris Colabello (.321 on the season) and Ezequiel Carrera (.237). Rivera also stole 7 bases, compared to Reyes’ 8 SB with Colorado.
Statistically, it is hard to find where all the Jays’ post-deadline wins came from. Tulo out-homered Reyes by 2 down the stretch while Reyes drive in 2 more runs. He will undoubtedly be a major asset for the Jays for years to come, but he certainly didn’t account for the Jays’ improved win-loss record. Ben Revere met or exceeded all expectations, but was only an upgrade based on his defence relative to the bats he replaced in the lineup. From a purely statistical perspective, the Jays got 9 wins from price, improved fielding in left from Revere, and a wash at best in all other areas.
Perhaps this is evidence of the critical importance of the “intangibles” that proponents of advanced statistics don’t want to acknowledge. Anthopoulos’ trades energized the team, and each of the new players seems to all outward appearance to be a perfect fit for their new clubhouse. Does that account for the difference, or is there something more at play?
There may be an additional “intangible” factor at work here. More than any other team, the Blue Jays have an ability to absolutely take control of their at-bats. To a man, this is a group of incredible baseball minds. They show a laser-like focus on the field, watching and learning and most of all communicating with one another. This is a whole that is greater than the sum of its already-impressive parts, and the result is the ability to surgically dismantle opposing pitching staffs. This led to, paraphrasing Sportsnet’s Gregg Zaun, ‘a Yankees bullpen that was so afraid, that they would rather walk in runs than pitch to the Jays’. This approach requires complete buy-in from everybody, with each batter doing their part to learn, teach and most of all, literally wear out opposing pitchers.
Explaining the Enigma
The team refers to “passing the baton” which is commonly interpreted as willingness to take walks and to find ways to get on base to keep the lineup moving, like a relay baton. A better interpretation may be that the Jays are able to turn their lineup into one extended at-bat; they pummel their opponents into submission with a police baton. With almost a hive-mind powering them, the Jays appear to opposing hitters as a single entity that you have to get out 27 times. The collective sees all of your weaknesses and, feeling naked and afraid, you have nowhere to hide, no easy outs, and no relief from the pressure. Even if you get one guy out, the next guy is going to pick up the baton and just keep hitting you. Opposing pitchers don’t bend or crack; they crumble. The Jays hit their opponents until candy comes out, and then they keep hitting. This is why the Jays scored in the double digits 26 times this season; this is why their run differential shamed the rest of the league, even when they weren’t winning.
This is also the effect that Gregg Zaun referred to as (again, paraphrasing) ‘scoring unnecessary runs’ and ‘smelling blood in the water’ leading to an inflated run differential. There is more to the Jays’ approach, however, than simply piling on a wounded opponent. The unrelenting assault works when everyone is on board: putting pressure on the pitcher, sharing knowledge, causing havoc on the basepaths and above all seeing a ton of pitches are all critical components of The Baton. When it works, the pitcher is beaten physically as well as emotionally, and explodes in a shower of crooked numbers. When it fails, and a pitcher is able to stand up to the assault, the Jays lose one-run games.
The baton strategy will fail if anybody on the team doesn’t buy in. That player becomes the AL equivalent of the pitcher in the batting order; a spot for the opposing pitcher to collect his thoughts and record a (relatively) easy out. Picture the Jays pre-trade deadline as the Oakland A’s in the first half of Moneyball: the team keeps getting cold feet and backing out of the strategy, and the inability to commit costs them games.
Therefore, it is critical that every player buys into the strategy and is prepared to give maximum intensity with every at-bat. Can you see Ben Revere buying into this approach? Can you picture Tulo finding ways to contribute even when his bat has gone cold? Would this approach work even when Kawasaki starts? Does this sound like a team that Jose Bautista and Josh Donaldson were born to lead? Perhaps most importantly, can’t you kind of picture Jose Reyes taking a nap, complaining that Moneyball was SOOOOOO BORING and then just doing whatever he felt like?
The 2015 Post-Season
As mentioned, Toronto’s fans are looking for something to focus their frustrations on. After 22 years, with a maddening first half of the season, we suddenly had a team that could do no wrong. With more eyes on them than ever before, the Jays’ failed to pass the baton in two games against the visiting Rangers. What went wrong, and where can our anger do the most good?
The Pressure
David Price was not sharp in Game 1. After the game, he addressed the monkey on his back, of not having won a postseason start. In Game 2, Stroman had a shaky first inning that was made worse by bad luck and worse defence. In both games, the team looked like they were pushing to do too much, which works against The Baton. By the end of Game 2, the Jays may have replaced nerves with anger, and they play better when they’re angry.
The Rest
The decision to skip Price’s last start of the regular season was a controversial one, both because of the potential value of winning the best record in the AL, and because of the effects of too much rest on a starter. The added rest is also antithetical to The Baton, where the Jays may have benefited from the belief that they couldn’t afford to take their foot off the gas (or off their opponent’s neck, if that fits the metaphor better). John Gibbons made the call he thought was best for his players, and for a lot of arms that had thrown a lot of pitches. In retrospect, it may have been the wrong move, and it would be interesting to see how Gibby would handle that call in the future. Even if you’re not a Gibby fan, this isn’t a decision he deserves any grief over.
The Replay
Maybe Odor’s foot came off the bag in the 14th. If it did, it sure wasn’t by much. Is that really what instant replay should be used for? Replay is perfect to make sure the obvious calls are made right. Fair or foul can be hard to pick up by eye. Sometimes the umps miss their rotation and have a bad angle on a tag, or blink at the wrong time. When everybody in the stadium can see a blown call, replay lets the officials fix it right away. When a player is skidding to a stop and bounces imperceptibly off the base for a fraction of a second that no human eye could ever see, replay becomes an act of desperation. Replay should be for fixing the calls that should have been made, not for catching the ones nobody could ever see.
The Officials
Both the Jays and the Rangers had issues with the strike zone all night. There was no team bias; the strike zone was consistently inconsistent. Both teams saw batters lashing out over called third strikes. However, the officiating affected the Jays disproportionately.
Gregg Zaun has described difficulty some umpires have in reading a knuckleball, and the value of Russell Martin helping the umpire to make the right calls by properly framing the pitch. In Game 2, I recall him making a similar argument with respect to home plate umpire Vic Carapazza and the amount of movement on Stroman’s pitches. Stroman was punished because the nature of his pitches made them too difficult for Carapazza to call properly.
This effect is magnified when it comes to The Baton. The Jays’ higher-level strategy relies on being able to control their at-bats, which they can’t do when they can’t predict how balls and strikes are going to be called. When hitter and pitcher alike are guessing at the strike zone, the effects of The Baton are normalized and the Jays become “just” a lineup of talented hitters. Since the Rangers lineup is also full of talented hitters, the Jays lose a major differentiator. Put another way, lousy officiating can make all teams equally bad, and not just in baseball. You see this in hockey, where a team that relies on enforcers to keep the opposition’s scorers in check might be disproportionately affected by a referee that is more strict about fighting, or in basketball, where a more physical team is punished by a ref that is more strict on incidental contact.
As with the knuckleball, you run the risk of hitting some bad officiating during a 162-game season that disrupts The Baton. During the playoffs, however, there is no excuse for using anything but your very best officials. Consistency of the strike zone is the one thing all players would ask for in an umpire, and there was no consistency to be found. The look of bewilderment on Vic Caparazza’s face, coupled with all the players he didn’t eject for arguing balls and strikes, tells me he knew he was having a bad night behind the plate. The Jays and Rangers were equally frustrated by inconsistent balls and strikes, but the Jays have chosen a strategy that relies on consistency, and they were punished for Caparazza not showing any.
