Thursday, April 17, 2008

Infectious Diseases

Considering the hard time I give/strong dislike I have for the theatrics of Joba Chamberlain and Jonathon Papelbon, watching Jesse Carlson lose his shit walking off the mound last night made ME lose MY shit. Perhaps the $10 pitchers (Toby's!) played a part in my excitement, but damned if his amplitude wasn't infectious. Pitching out of ridiculous jams will do that.

In the harsh light of day, I began to reflect on how truly antiquated many traditional stats have become. While the closer's job is difficult, these setup men end up losing their minds as the stomp off the field because they are in much more difficult situations. Either that or they know that if they are a serviceable in the 8th inning role for a while, somebody will throw them a bag of cash and a nu metal entrance theme.

The fuck is a save anyway? Waltzing in with a three run lead and nobody on in the ninth? Once the set up man has done all the heavy lifting, the whole Slipknot routine seems a little laboured.

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