Friday, April 25, 2008

Trip Report and Pitch Count Retort

So I got some free tickets to Nationals Park yesterday to watch the Nats/Mets game. I got outfield seats, right by the left field pole, and watched legends such as Billy Wagner (who looked me right in the eye!) and Pedro Feliciano warm up. I even saw a batting practice ball fly above my head and land five rows behind me. An interesting side-note, though, and a testament to the park still having to work out some kinks, is that the seat I was sold did not actually exist. My ticket was for section 106, row J, seat 7--however, the seats started at number 8. As a result, we got new tickets for free and ended up sitting behind third base, about 200 feet from home plate. It was pretty great.

As for the park itself: it's... well, it's gorgeous. I can't really say much more than you probably already know: it's very modern, there's a section in center-right field where you can play PS3 and watch the game from a porch, every seat faces home plate, and the food is as expensive as ever. The world's largest HD screen was awesome, too--though, again, a bit glitchy, like they still needed to work some things out.

What struck me most about the game, though, was not the park, but an occurrence in the game itself. Oliver Perez, the Mets' starter, was looking decent but shaky, with about 65 pitches through 4 innings and only two hits given up. The fifth inning, however, was a different story, as he gave up a series of hits and three runs. He couldn't find the zone anymore, and the mighty bats of Wily Mo ".094 BA" Pena and Wil "I was once a Yankee" Nieves were lighting him up. Furthermore, bullpen activity was mysteriously absent; only after the game was tied up at 3 did Randolph send out Jorge Sosa to warm up, and he didn't even end up pitching. Perez managed to get out of the inning, with his pitch count now up to around 80.

The next inning he pitched, Perez looked just as bad. He loaded the bases with no one out before finally being taken out by Randolph. Heilman was thrown into the fray, and promptly gave up a grand slam. The Nationals didn't look back from there, and the Mets lost 10-5.

Now, sitting with two Mets fans, I experienced a lot of complaining about the management. And this complaining led me to consider the strategy employed during the game. Specifically, I thought about how Oliver Perez made it to exactly 100 pitches, and only then did Randolph decide to switch to Aaron Heilman. Now, let me make it clear: I am by no means an expert on pitching. I do not know the ins and outs and all of the intricacies of what a major league pitcher experiences or what's best for him. But I do know that Randolph gave Perez exactly 100 pitches, and I also know that this number for whatever reason is now a magical one.

The striking thing, then, is twofold: first, this new age where the magic pitch count number is 100, and second, the bullpen for the Mets sucking. The second one is obvious: the Mets have a terrible bullpen, and it's going to cost them a lot of games, and, embarrassingly, sometimes it's going to cost them a grand slam off the bat of Felipe Lopez. It's not earth-shattering to say that a crappy bullpen is going to lose you games and is a huge liability for any competitive team. But Heilman, a set-up guy, was only placed in that precarious situation after his starter was pulled in an exact situation. Perez clearly had nothing left after the fifth inning, and yet Willie Randolph kept him in for one more inning--and not just to get out the pitcher/pinch hitter, who led off, but Randolph kept Perez in for three batters.

It seems to me, then, that Randolph was letting the pitch count manage the game more so than letting himself manage the situation. I'm not saying definitively that Perez should have been taken out after five. What I am saying is that it's rather clear that, more so than ever, managers are relying on pitch count to determine when to take out their starters. It's a point I've seen emphasized constantly in the recent years, especially after Pedro's collapse in the 2003 ALCS. But why is 100 pitches such an undisputed fact? Why are pitchers so presumably sensitive to this precise amount? Shouldn't the game be managed more on the present situation than an overall statistic? I leave that open to discussion. Personally, I think pitch count has its merits, but it's an overblown statistic in today's game, and is relied upon entirely too much.

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