Six-sixty-six? A-Rod remains within two home runs of SATAN.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Posted by el duque at 6:02 AM
It's time for the Yankees to establish the Chris Dickerson Production Baseline, which simply asks: How much better will this guy be than Chris Dickerson, to whom we pay pop bottle deposits and health care? I figure Dickerson can hit .250 with 15 HR and field the position well. He might do more, maybe .280 and 20. Do we really expect more from Torii Hunter, as he waddles into his Cycle 4 diet years? Did we learn anything from last year's horror movie experiment with Andruw Jones?
The SF Giants won the World Series by a) developing pitchers (Cain, Bumgarner, Romo), b) occasional signings (Zito, Scutaro, Pence) and c) turning over rocks (Vogelsong, Blanco, Arias). We stink at developing young pitchers. Might be the worst at it in the game. But at least we finally ditched Billy Connor and Nardi Contreras, (assuming they were the problem; that's a big assumption, btw) And we stink at trades, too. But Brian Cashman is great at one job: combing the scrap heaps for salvageable parts. The key to 2013 will be the bone yard.
Last year, for offense, Cash added Eric Chavez and Andruw Jones. Obviously, one didn't work. For the infield, he picked up Jason Nix. For the bullpen, he grabbed Clay Rapada and Cody Eppley. But we found no starting pitcher. (Unless you want to liberally claim Andy Pettitte came from the scrap heap; I don't think it fits.) Look at how Baltimore supplemented its rotation from nowhere.
Somewhere out there, for a nickel, there is a starter who can win 10 games for us and hold the line until 2015, when our farm system might finally supply a few live arms. Somewhere out there is a RH hitter with pop and a glove who can keep opposing teams from trotting out mediocre lefties against us.
I can't give you names. What do I know? But somewhere, there is another Bartolo Colon, waiting for a shot at NY. That's what we need. Not Torii Hunter. Not Josh Hamilton. Think of the Chris Dickerson Baseline. Clear your mind, Grasshopper, and think of nobody.