Dice Clay, Zen Master

I really, really wanted to start this post with, "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Red Sox will win the 2007 World Series because of Daisuke Matsuzaka." But I can't. Dice K's first outing (against the college boys) while a nice showing of 25 pitches with 19 strikes, wasn't the massive dominance I might have hoped for before I opened up Gameday Audio. It was as good as anything Schilling or Beckett has put together this past week, but it didn't live up to the hype - he didn't make every batter cry just by looking at him. However, disappointment aside, I find myself intrigued by the intersection of Matsuzaka and the hype...so let's talk about that hype for a moment.

Ever since Matsuzaka joined the Sox, there's been a growing buzz about the pitcher, about his pitches, about his past successes, etc., etc. and, now in America as in Japan, there is a hype about him. I've seen the phrase "possibly the best pitcher ever" ever bandied around by people who, if they were serious, should probably know better. Even if that claim is overboard, it's par for the course in this sport; anyone who gets a massive contract from a team based in a city with a fan base whose love of baseball borders on rabid (paging Mr. Rodriguez) is going to get a lot of attention from everyone. But I'm not telling you anything new so far. What is interesting that Matsuzaka doesn't seem to give two craps about everything that's going on around him.

All throughout this process we've heard about Dice Clay working out, Dice Clay talking about how he's excited to pitch here and how Dice Clay is the only one not excited to pitch to start the season (by pitching to a group of college baseball players) - that he's spending the time focusing on hitting the strike zone, not on the thrill of starting the spring. But all of the news reports about these activities seem to suggest as a subtext that all expectations slide off of Dice Clay's back like water off a duck's ass. Baseball players say all the time that they're just out there to play, but I now feel like Matsuzaka really means it from the core of his being.

Overall, Daisuke Matsuzaka seems to be a man so used to living life as a celebrity that he flows through all of the attention, all of the hype, all of the expectations like they aren't there and just goes and does the job he gets paid for. It's not even like he's aware of the celebrity but thinks that he needs to be above it - he's like the frickin' Zen Master of celebrity, able to float serenely in the turbid waters like a fish (for some reason, celebrity just screams water similes to me). And, knowing that, maybe I really can say now: "Ladies and Gentlemen, the Red Sox will win the 2007 World Series because of Daisuke Matsuzaka."

Total side note: Jacoby Ellsbury's speed translates very, very well over the radio. He just legged out a triple in what sounded like doubles territory. Awesome.

The Return of Captain Crunch

Among the many other subplots swirling at the start of Spring Training '07 (Schilling's contract, Dice Clay's abilities, the extent of Lester's cancer recovery, J.D. Drew, whether or not Matt Clement will be able to throw a ball without his arm falling off - and whether anyone really cares - and all of the other things Robin's already mentioned) is the (hopefully) imminent return of Coco Crisp to form after last year's disastrous campaign. Crisp, who turned out to be the first casualty of the Year of the Walking Dead needed surgery in September to repair his finger and comes to Spring Training wondering whether or not he'll get back on track after his monster start last Spring.

Does Crisp think he's ready? Of course he does - but then again, he's a ballplayer; it's his job to talk up his abilities. I'm convinced more teams would have a stat-head focus if so much of the business wasn't made up of people who've spent their whole careers talking up their skills. In any case, two points in Captain Crunch's (Crunch! Like Crisp! It's funny, right?) favor:

1. He admits his finger is still stiff when he wakes up in the mornings, but works itself out by the time he has to play. I'm not sure if this sort of honesty impresses me, or makes me nervous. At least he's telling the truth.
2. Now that the Sox have a real lead-off hitter, the foolish Coco-Bats-First experiment is over. The Herald has him batting second, Robin has him batting eighth, but I don't really care one way or another - just as long as he doesn't do any more head-first slides into third.
   

I just thought about Lugo and Crisp/Youkilis getting on before Papi and experienced a body-rocking shudder of glee. This lineup is intense, people. I'm very, very excited for baseball.

Happy Trails, Lenny

Buried behind the flurry of Dice Clay-related news springing up like springtime flowers of baseball in Fort Myers was the announcement by the Red Sox that the Oakland A's claimed Lenny "The Loneliest Lefty" DiNardo off of waivers yesterday. With a staff that went from embarrassingly devoid of southpaws last year to one that has an embarrassment of riches this year, DiNardo's presence on the waiver wire isn't particularly surprising. In his three years in the majors he's been wildly inconsistent in his abilities, had peripherals that fluctuated wildly and, in general, suffered from Derek Lowe's fatal flaw: he just can't keep his hands off the ladies. Wait, that was just Derek. Lenny has the other fatal Derek Lowe flaw: he can't keep his pitches down consistently.

Sometimes DiNardo had games like this one, where he seemed to have the command necessary to make him a vital part of the rotation. Most of the time the hopes started high but ended like this gem, with Francona bringing out the long relief to suffer through another round of artillery practice. Now he's off to Oakland, land of second chances, where he'll either harness the hidden potential of his ground ball pitches (or get a lot of lucky fly outs in that cavernous stadium), or he'll languish in the minors for the rest of his career. Either way, I wish him good luck.

Truck Day +1

Dear Readers,

We're sorry we missed the official beginning of Spring yesterday. We were so focused on trying to figure out why the Herald would make a joke about the noble profession of proctology (especially in reference to our favorite new beer-swilling Red Sox) that we missed Truck Day 2007. We know it's no excuse, but we hope you can forgive us in our shame.

Yours in Red Sox obsession,

Eric and Robin

Asahi SUPER "Dry:" The Man Steps In, Says Stop This Nonsense

I've already spoke of my great love for the Asahi ad featuring Dice Clay; its sheer awesomeness has dominated my baseball-starved mind for several days now. According to the blog To the People, however, the US government, in the form of Arthur Resnick, director of public and media affairs for the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, isn't so pleased: Resnick thinks that the ad may merit "punitive action," whatever that means, despite the fact that the ATTTB is an arm of the US government and Asahi broadcast the ad in Japan, which is, to my knowledge, not a part of the United States. Looking at the Herald article on the issue, it sounds like the "punitive action" would be brought against Major League Baseball, which authorized the use of the Red Sox logo in the ad.

Even if that's the case (and I confess that for a moment I foolishly thought the punitive action would be against Dice Clay), the idea is, as they say in Boston, retahded, just like every half-assed attempt by the government to intervene in baseball. Can the MLB govern itself? Not really, if steroids is any indication, but I think they still do a lot better by themselves without the interference of politicians.

Asahi SUPER "Dry"

I think I watched this commercial five times in a row before posting, because it's that awesome. How long is it 'til pitchers and catchers report, exactly?

Dice Clay and the Money Pit

I just came across a fascinating article from The Eagle-Tribune Online via Yanksfan vs Soxfan, which reveals that the Red Sox won't be making nearly as much money in merchandising or advertising from the Dice Clay deal as many of us (and I'm certainly a guilty party here) originally thought. The problem, it seems, is that the Sox only get exclusive rights to advertising and merchandising revenue when it's sold within the six New England states (with the exception of Fairfield County in Connecticut. If you were ever wondering about the official boundaries of Red Sox home turf versus Red Sox Nation, there you go). Everything else goes directly to MLB and gets split up according to the revenue sharing agreement.

Ok, so shame on the Sox for not thinking about this problem beforehand and spending $110 million on a pitcher...except I can't buy the idea of the Red Sox organization, a group of savvy business people, not taking that issue into account in the first place and finding a way around it. It could be a goodwill thing, as the Sox claim, except that's not the sort of thing you'd hear from a senior vice president of sales and marketing - it's his job to find economic opportunities available in a big name like Dice Clay and exploit them for the benefit of the club, not give up because of an existing restriction. Where's the creativity in not finding a way around the problem? Personally, I think the first commenter on the page might be on point: the Red Sox are owned by several companies, including a media group that (full disclosure) I work for. Finding a way to hide revenue (in a legal way, of course) generated by Matsuzaka certainly doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility.

However, let's say that it's not possible to convert Dice Clay's presence in a Red Sox uniform into much more cold, hard cash than the Sox are generating now. We still got a pitcher who's got the potential to be much, much, much better than either king of this year's free agent pool and did so at - posting fee aside - a much cheaper price. Call me an apologist, but would you want to give up Dice Clay even if you knew the Sox wouldn't earn the posting fee back for a number of years? At this point, me either.

A Moment Historical

Alan just called me with something he heard on EEI that fills me with silly glee, as does everything about the newest member of the Red Sox and the sick, sick rotation he’s going to be a part of: the first series of the 2007 season is at home, against Seattle. Assuming Dice Clay (official nickname now; the dude’s a Red Sox) pitches in one of the first three games of the season, the first batter he’ll face will be none other than Japan’s first star export, Ichiro Suzuki, who’s one of those happy few who’s so famous that he’s known by one name. I think it’ll be a great way to open an era. Meanwhile, I’m going to go back to dreaming about a rotation of Schilling, Dice Clay, Beckett, Wake and Paps and giggling.

PS. What is this award, a sop to those who realize the travesty of not giving a single member of the 2006 Red Sox infield a gold glove? That’s right, sports writers: the fans know who the best of the best is. Mike Lowell is The Man.