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TODAY: Monday, May 15
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THURSDAY, FEB. 17
Continuing the series of articles on teams that improved by at least eight victories from 1998 to 1999, today we examine the Mets (+9) and the Marlins (+10).

As I'm sure everyone is already tired of my opinions on the New York Nationals, I'll keep this brief.

The Mets currently feature one of baseball's worst outfields. I mean, when none of your starters are good enough to break into the Royals lineup, you've got problems. Replacing John Olerud with Todd Zeile at first base is clearly a downgrade, and there's not a single returning player who has a good chance of being better this season than last.

What's more -- and I want to thank one of my readers for pointing this out -- it's extremely unlikely that the Mets will allow only 20 unearned runs this season, as they did in 1999. Yes, I know that the infielders are all sure-handed fellows, but this simply won't happen again. Robin Ventura made 15 errors in 1998; last year he made nine. Rey Ordonez made 17 errors in 1998; last year he made four. Edgardo Alfonzo played third base in 1999; last year, playing second base, he made five errors. Like I said, this won't happen again.

The Mets did make a positive move this offseason, and it was a big one. But Mike Hampton won't balance everything else, and that's why I think the Mets are going to finish 88-74 in 2000.

Next we have the Marlins, and finally I have something nice to say; it's just too bad there aren't many fans who will enjoy it.

The Marlins improved by 10 victories last year ... yet they still managed to post the worst record in the National League, again. Now, you have to figure it's tough to do that three years straight, so the Marlins almost have to improve again this year, right?

Given the club's incredible youth, that seems like a safe assumption. Unfortunately, not much of that youth is truly impressive. Second baseman Luis Castillo is going to be a heckuva player, an improved version of Quilvio Veras. But elsewhere, I see a lot of guys who may enjoy productive major league careers, but won't play in many All-Star Games.

I don't know, maybe I'm missing something here. Everyone raves about all the talent in the organization. But I don't see much of it on the major league roster. And I look at one expert's Top 50 Prospects list, and only one Marlin (Brad Penny) appears. So while this club may well contend for something in two or three years, no such finish is imminent. And I only see them winning 66 games in 2000.

If you're still keeping score, here's the latest tally for The Big Improvers:

            1998     1999     2000
Indians      89    97 (+8)   94 (-3)
Pirates      69    78 (+9)   82 (+4)
Mets         88    97 (+9)   88 (-9)
Marlins      54    64 (+10)  66 (+2)
Reds         77    96 (+19)  90 (-6)

And now, a response to Tuesday's column:

    Dear Mr. Neyer,

    Considering how dependent you seem to be on logic, facts and figures, I might be wasting my time trying to explain emotion to you, but it's worth a shot. After reading your column on Rob's Third Law, I have to wonder if you have become so cynical about baseball that you have lost sight of what it is like to be a true fan. You seem critical of Reds fans for their optimism and their hope for success in 2000.

    What kind of fans would we be if we followed Rob's Third Law, and just assumed that the team would falter this year because of last year's success? Being a true fan is all about supporting your team, expecting the best from your team, and assuming that they will succeed until the scoreboard proves otherwise. Being a true fan is about hoping for the best. If you can only see things as a cynical sports journalist, that is fine. Do us a favor, though, and do not chastise us for being true baseball fans.

    Sincerely,
    Stacey Fowee

Stacey, I would never chastise anyone for being a true baseball fan. You can be whatever kind of baseball fan you like, and you certainly should not care what some silly columnist thinks.

That said, I sincerely believe that you can be a "true" baseball fan and a realistic one. The two are not mutually exclusive.

Since 1976, my favorite team has been the Kansas City Royals. I happen to think they'll be lucky to manage 75 victories this season. Does this mean I'm not a true fan? Gosh, I sure hope not. Despite what I might think about the Royals' chances, I will ravenously dissect every box score, watch any of their games that I can, and die a little death with each and every loss.

In my neighborhood, true baseball fans don't think their team is going to win 100 games every year. Rather, we know our boys almost certainly will not win 100 games ... yet we love them anyway.

In other words, love does not have to be blind.

FRIDAY, FEB. 18
Continuing the series of articles on teams that improved by at least eight victories from 1998 to 1999, today we examine the Athletics (+13) and Diamondbacks (+35).

The Athletics are the only team in this group for which I've got no preconceptions. I mean, I try to approach each team with a completely open mind, but the fact is that I've already got information about each club in my head, and it's impossible to completely ignore that.

But while I do have A's-related information in my head, it's not been sorted, not at all. So let's do the entire roster treatment, as we did with the Astros a few days ago.

C, Ramon Hernandez: Still a kid, but not a huge amount of potential, at least not that I can see.

1B, Jason Giambi: Might have been a tad over his head last year, but Giambi's a productive hitter and will remain so.

2B, Randy Velarde: At 36 last season, Velarde enjoyed his best season with the bat, and even set a career high with 24 steals. However, much of that came with the Angels rather than Oakland, and before Velarde arrived the A's second basemen were Tony Phillips and Scott Spiezio. The former was pretty good, the latter awful. And a full season of Velarde should be roughly as productive as what the A's got last year.

SS, Miguel Tejada: Incredibly talented, only figures to get better, though perhaps not this year.

3B, Eric Chavez: Another fine young talent, and more likely to improve immediately than Tejada. That goes for this guy, too ...

LF, Ben Grieve: Struggled terribly early last season, but righted the ship and slugged .534 in the second half. Grieve still has to re-establish himself as a future Hall of Famer, but I don't have any qualms about proclaiming him a future All-Star.

CF, Vacant: Look on the bright side. The A's got nothing from their center fielders last year. And there's nothing worse than nothing. Ergo, they'll be at least as good this season as last.

RF, Matt Stairs: Now, the sluggers. After three straight solid years, it would be foolish to predict anything different. On the other hand ...

DH, John Jaha: The ability has always been there, but the health hasn't. Jaha managed to stay in the lineup last season, and the result was career highs in home runs, walks and on-base percentage. I'll be surprised if Jaha plays 142 games again.

Starting Pitchers: Here's where things start getting dicey. Kevin Appier's penciled in as the No. 1 starter, and he also posted a 5.17 ERA last season, and actually got worse as the summer progressed. Tim Hudson's the No. 2, and if the kid doesn't break down he'll be good, maybe great. But young pitchers have a habit of breaking hearts. After that it's Gil Heredia and Omar Olivares, and as much affection as I might have for both of them, it's hard to imagine either starting a World Series game.

Relief Pitchers: Jason Isringhausen is supposed to be the closer, and I suppose he can't be much worse than Billy Taylor was last year. Overall, one can't consider the bullpen a strength, though with relievers you can never be sure.

The Athletics scored 893 runs last season, fourth-best in the American League. Assuming natural development and few trips to the disabled list, they should do even better this year. Not a lot better, though, because there simply isn't much room to do better.

So Oakland's fate rests with their pitchers, and it could go either way. I'll take the safe route, then, and assume a slight decline in that area. Thus, until the staff is upgraded, the Athletics are in a holding pattern.

The Arizona Diamondbacks should enjoy greatly increased production at first base this year, thanks to the all-summer presence of a mysterious Mexican named Erubiel Durazo.

But as I wrote in the Diamondbacks Hot Stove Heater, just about everyone else will probably play worse. By that, I don't mean that everyone will play worse. Rather, each of the other regulars, taken individually, is likely to play worse. It's certainly possible that Matt Williams or Jay Bell or Steve Finley or someone else will defy the odds and actually improve upon last season's sterling performance ... but that still leaves six or seven other everyday players who will decline.

And what about the pitching? If everything goes right, the Diamondbacks could still win 90 games. Todd Stottlemyre might be completely recovered from his torn rotator cuff, which has not been surgically repaired. Omar Daal might confirm his status as one of baseball's top lefties. Brian Anderson might become the new Bob Tewksbury. And Randy Johnson might win another Cy Young Award. Actually, if only three of these things happen Arizona could win 90 games.

But I sure wouldn't bet on it. The Diamondbacks improved by 35 victories last year, but they'll lose close to half those gains in 2000.

If you're still keeping score, here's the final tally for this little project:

            1998     1999       2000
Indians      89    97 (+8)    94 (-3)
Pirates      69    78 (+9)    82 (+4)
Mets         88    97 (+9)    88 (-9)
Marlins      54    64 (+10)   66 (+2)
Athletics    74    87 (+13)   86 (-1)
Reds         77    96 (+19)   90 (-6)
D-Backs      65   100 (+35)   84 (-16)

TUESDAY, FEB. 22
Not long ago, a young Royals outfielder named Mark Quinn became merely the latest of hundreds of professional ballplayers to say, "Play me or trade me."

You see, despite the fact that Quinn has done everything anyone's ever asked of him, this offseason the Royals acquired a couple of players, Todd Dunwoody and Paul Sorrento, as spare parts. These cast-offs, Quinn realized, might well take some of the outfield and/or DH at-bats that should rightfully be considered his.

"If they don't think I deserve to be on this team, get rid of me," Quinn said. "If they want to go with one of those guys from outside the organization, knowing I'm ready to play at this level, get rid of me."

Now, some might attribute this attitude to the selfishness of the modern athlete, but I believe that Quinn -- and many of his rebellious forebears, for that matter -- has a mighty fine case.

Take a look at Quinn's last three minor-league seasons.

      Level(s)  Games   OBP  Slug
1997   A&AA      113   .418  .565
1998     AA      100   .424  .581
1999    AAA      107   .409  .598

Quinn's high OBPs weren't the result of a lot of walks, as he really doesn't draw many. I like him anyway, because he hits for such high averages that he doesn't need the walks. In 1998, Quinn won the Texas League batting title (.349), and in 1999 he won the Pacific Coast League batting title (.360).

The Royals finally summoned Quinn to Kansas City last September, when he became just the third player in major league history to hit two home runs in his first game. That was a fluke, of course, but he finished with six homers in 16 games, and a .733 slugging percentage. Nobody's that good, but there simply isn't any reason to think he can't hit.

"I had a dream come true in 1999," Quinn recently said. "I finally made it to the big leagues. Ever since I was eight years old, every birthday cake and every candle I ever blew out, my wish was to be a major league player."

It's that dream (plus all those numbers), one supposes, that led Quinn to declare, "There will be a stink raised by me and my agent if they try to send me to Omaha."

And rightfully so. Mind you, I've nothing against Omaha, a city that occupies a fond place in my heart. There are few things in life finer than an August evening in Omaha. Shoot, I once loved a girl from Omaha. Pick me up, plop me down in Omaha, give me a big backyard, and I'd be as happy as a lazy old hound in a butcher shop.

But if you're a 25-year-old ballplayer with major-league talent, Omaha is just about the last place you want to be. And Mark Quinn turns 26 in May.

Believe it or not, the woeful Royals do have excess talent. No, they don't have any superstars, not yet. But they do have at least five outfielders who could start for most major league clubs: Quinn, Johnny Damon, Carlos Beltran, Jermaine Dye and prospect Dee Brown.

Brown's probably ready for the majors, but he's only 22, he still hasn't played an inning of Triple-A ball, and he could still use some work on his defense. So he's ticketed for Omaha (and likely won't arrive in Kansas City for good until September).

Will Quinn join Brown in Nebraska? Royals manager Tony Muser, certainly not the brightest man who once played for Earl Weaver, recently said he didn't want to keep Quinn with the big club unless he could get Quinn at least three or four hundred at-bats.

To which I would respond, any manager who can't a few hundred at-bats for a hitter like Mark Quinn should be asked to find another line of work.

George Will once wrote,

America has been called the only nation consciously founded on a good idea. The idea has been given many and elaborate explanations, but the most concise and familiar is: the pursuit of happiness. For a fortunate few people, happiness is the pursuit of excellence in vocation.

I'm sure I've written about this before (probably around this time last year), but I believe that a man's pursuit of happiness should not be impeded by his employer's lack of imagination. So when that's what is happening, I don't begrudge a baseball player his frustration.

Postscript: I began writing this column last week. In the days since, this situation has taken a big turn for the better, at least if you're Mark Quinn.

Friday, Billy Beane and the Athletics fleeced the Royals out of Jeremy Giambi, giving up only a moderately talented 26-year-old pitcher named Brett Laxton. With Giambi, the Royals had the potential for fantastic production at DH, with a Giambi/Quinn platoon. Now, it's Quinn and perhaps some combination of lefty hitters Paul Sorrento and Todd Dunwoody, neither of who should be anything but emergency fill-ins.

Or perhaps Mark Quinn will get the chance he so richly deserves, the chance to play nearly every day. Omaha may yet be in Quinn's future, but if so it should be based on his merits, not the manifest foolishness of Herk Robinson and Tony Muser.

WEDNESDAY, FEB. 23
With the coming of Junior, a tradition has finally died in Cincinnati. The tradition went on life support last spring with the arrival of Greg Vaughn, who was allowed to retain his goatee. And now it's dead, as Griffey and many of his teammates will be sporting earrings this season, thus becoming the first Reds in franchise history to do so.

Mind you, I'm not saying the tradition has been a good one, just that it's now dead. And given that this particular tradition lived for more than three decades, perhaps a eulogy of sorts is in order.

You might know Woody Woodward as the man who, as recently as two years ago, considered Heathcliff Slocumb a valuable commodity (and, to be fair, also as the man who traded Randy Johnson for three fine prospects). But would you believe that back in the 1970s, the heyday of The Big Red Machine, Woodward was the prototypical Cincinnati Red?

No, not in terms of playing ability. A capable utility infielder, as a hitter Woodward was essentially Rey Ordonez without the power. (No, that's not a joke. Woodward hit one home run in 2,187 career at-bats.) But Woodward did epitomize the Reds sartorially.

Woodward spent the early part of his major league career with the Milwaukee, and then the Atlanta Braves. But on June 11, 1968, Woodward and pitchers Clay Carroll and Tony Cloninger were traded to Cincinnati. The Reds initially thought he had the makings of an everyday shortstop, but soon were disabused of that notion. Still, Woodward looked like a ballplayer, an old-style ballplayer. So Reds general manager Bob Howsam had a photo snapped of Woodward -- hair trimmed short, uniform pants pulled up nearly to the knee, clean shave, solid black shoes -- and for years a large print of that photo hung in the clubhouse.

In Cincinnati, they still tell stories about Howsam's exactitude. One day in the 1970s, a high-school pitcher named Chris Welsh -- later a major leaguer and currently a Reds broadcaster -- arrived at Riverfront Stadium to pitch a bit of batting practice. He also arrived with a fuzzy upper lip, and was not allowed onto the playing field until he'd shaved.

Howsam loved black shoes, in fact he would allow nothing else. Even the white stripes and logos were unacceptable. Before any shoes sporting such adornment reached the field, a clubhouse attendant would rub layers of black shoe polish over all the offending surfaces. Why all black?

Actually, in 1969 the Reds were one of the first teams to go with "colored" shoes, red in their case. But a couple of their pitchers didn't like the feel of the new shoes, and stuck with the old black ones. Howsam supposedly said, "Oh, no. Everyone has to have the same color shoes. Two black, everybody black."

Later, Howsam found other reasons for the black shoes, more interesting reasons if not any more logical. "You want to know why the shoes are black," Howsam asked. "One reason is because white shoes exaggerate the length of the foot. They are like the shoes circus clowns wear. A team in light-colored shoes always looked to me like a Sunday School softball team.

"More important is that the center of the game is the ball. The ball is white. As the white ball goes skimming along the playing surface, white shoes distract the eye. Black is the ultimate contrast: it sets off the white. It dramatizes the game and keeps the attention on the ball, where it belongs."

Along these same lines, Howsam was adamant about the bottom of the uniform pants ending just below the knee. Again, there was a practical consideration, as Howsam thought that Cincinnati hitters got more consistent strike-zone calls on the low pitches. In fact, while running the minor-league Denver Bears in the 1950s, Howsam had experimented with a "strike-zone uniform" that featured a color scheme matching the ball and strike areas.

My favorite Howsam story is from 1968, his second year in Cincinnati. For years, the Reds' logo had featured a uniformed runner with a baseball for a head. In honor of the franchise's status as (supposedly) baseball's first professional team, the baseball head was highlighted by an old-style cap and a handlebar mustache.

Howsam would have none of it. In '68 the old hat was replaced by the new style, and the mustache ... gone like yesterday's news. The new Mr. Red was substantially neater and, it might be said, also somewhat less manic (the old version looked like he was hopped up on something).

Howsam believed, right or wrong, that the good people of Cincinnati didn't want to see a troop of hirsute athletes wearing the local colors. As he later remembered, "I was working in a market that wanted clean-cut athletes who would have what was considered a good effect on youth. If I were promoting in Aspen, Colorado, I'd say everyone should have beards and long hair."

Bob Howsam left the Reds after the 1985 season, and some of the old ways left with him. Pete Rose was managing the club by then. He never really agreed with the policies in the 1970s, so he didn't mind if players wore their hair a little longer or wore red shoes.

But still, no facial hair. Until last year. And no earrings. Until this year. And now, for better or worse, the Reds will look like every other baseball team.

THURSDAY, FEB. 24
Frankly, Darryl Strawberry's latest "setback" isn't particularly interesting.

What's interesting is that even though we've seen this exact story at least three or four times already, the mass media will undoubtedly treat Strawberry's suspension and inevitable comeback attempt like it is interesting.

No, when it comes to Darryl Strawberry the only truly interesting question at this point is, "What might have been?"

Well, in the latest issue of "By the Numbers: The Newsletter of the SABR Statistical Analysis Committee," Rob Wood goes a long way toward answering that question.

As Wood notes, Strawberry's last good full season was 1991, at the end of which he was still only 29 years old. Here are his career stats at that point:

Age   Hits   HR   SB  Runs  RBI   OBP  Slug
 29   1159  280  201   748  832  .359  .516

The stolen bases might surprise you. It's easy to forget, but in his prime Strawberry was an outstanding athlete. From 1984 (his first full season) through 1988, he averaged 32 home runs and 29 steals per season. Strawberry's arm scared opposition baserunners, though in truth sometimes he seemed less than completely interested while playing right field.

Fortunately, Strawberry's swing is still just as pretty as always, so even young fans have lately been able to see what made Strawberry the great hitter that he once was.

But getting back to how good he might have been ... according to Total Baseball, through age 29 Strawberry compiled a 28.0 Total Player Rating (TPR), which means that he had been roughly 28 games better than an average right fielder to that point in his career. In other words, if Strawberry's teams had had an average right fielder instead of him, they'd have won 28 fewer games than they did.

A dozen Hall-eligible players compiled TPRs of better than 40 before turning 30; those dozen players include Ruth, Mantle, Cobb, Mays and Aaron, and all 12 are in the Hall of Fame. (This list does not include active players; Barry Bonds (49.5) and Rickey Henderson (45.7) were also plus-40 before their 30th birthdays.)

Seven players compiled pre-30 TPRs between 35 and 40; six of them are in the Hall of Fame, the lone exception being Ron Santo.

Nine players compiled pre-30 TPRs between 30 and 35; seven of them are in the Hall of Fame. The other two are Bill Mazeroski and Cesar Cedeņo. Both suffered injuries that limited their effectiveness afterward, Mazeroski finishing with a 36.3 TPR, Cedeno 28.3 (yes, his career mark actually dropped after he turned 30).

Next, we've got Strawberry's "group," the players who compiled pre-30 TPRs between 25 and 30. There have been 13 such Hall-eligible players, and 12 of them actually have been elected. That's right, the percentage of 25-30 who've made the Hall (92 percent) is higher than the percentage of 30-40 who've made it (81 percent).

Given the small sample, of course, the difference is meaningless. But it does suggest that Strawberry, had his career taken anything like a "normal" path, would now be thinking about his big day in Cooperstown. (Again, thanks to Rob Wood for doing the leg work on this.)

On a more practical level, the Yankees are now in something of a bind, as the almost certain loss of Strawberry leaves them without a great option for lefty DH. My guess is that they'll leave Ricky Ledee in left field to platoon with Shane Spencer. Tim Raines should get first crack at Strawberry's old job, but if he's not hitting after a month or two and super-prospect Nick Johnson is handling Class AAA pitching like he should, then we might see Johnson earlier than expected.

And speaking of super prospects, The "STATS 2000 Minor League Scouting Notebook," authored by ESPN.com contributor John Sickels, arrived in my mailbox yesterday. This happy event occurs annually, and each new edition brings back little pangs of fatherhood within me, as the first edition was published when I was working at STATS, Inc., and in fact I had a hand in its creation.

I may be giving myself too much credit here. But at least according to my warped memory, I was the one who conceived this book roughly six years ago. Initially I proposed myself as the author, but my superiors nixed that idea (in retrospect, almost certainly a good decision), preferring instead that I only be allowed to edit the book. Next on our list of prospective authors was Eddie Epstein, who had just left his job with the Baltimore Orioles. That first book, the "STATS 1995 Minor League Scouting Notebook," written and edited on the fly and thus was something of a modest effort, was only 180 pages and moderately priced ($12.95). But it exceeded, in both scope and quality, any similar books that had come before.

Shortly thereafter, Eddie went to work for the San Diego Padres, so in 1996 we turned to John Sickels, my successor as Bill James' research assistant and a long-time minor-league aficionado. I again served as editor, and we expanded the second edition of the "Minor League Scouting Notebook" to 224 pages (and a $16.95 price tag).

I left STATS, Inc. for ESPN.com shortly after John's first book. He's written four editions since, and I have to admit that the book has only improved with my absence, and now comprises better than 300 pages every year. John's a better evaluator and a better writer than he was five years ago, he has a better editor, and I really can't recommend his book highly enough. These days it costs $19.95, and is worth every penny.

FRIDAY, FEB. 25
When I meet people for the first time and tell them what I do for a living, they almost always assume that I spend a lot of time hanging around in locker rooms, talking to baseball players.

They're wrong, as anyone who's been reading this column for long probably knows. I don't spend much time in locker rooms, for a couple of reasons. One, I'm not particularly comfortable there. And two, the great majority of things baseball players tell baseball writers reveal little about the sport. Sure, there's plenty of stuff about "chemistry" and being "in a groove" and taking things "one day at a time," but does any of that really mean anything?

What really gets me is when ballplayers expound on what makes for a winning ballclub, because they rarely have any idea what they're talking about. As evidence, I offer two comments recently made by major league players.

Exhibit A: Mike Hampton
Responding to a question from Baseball Weekly's Deron Snyder, Hampton commented on his reasons for not re-signing with the Astros.

"One of my main concerns was if I sign a long-term deal, I wanted to be sure we were going to have a chance to win each of those years, have a World Series-contending team," Hampton said. "With Carl Everett getting traded, arguably our best player, I decided to take a wait-and-see approach and see where the team was headed."

Nothing against Hampton, but I don't think he's able to objectively and intelligently judge where a team is headed.

You want to build a good team, a team that will still be contending five years from now? Then the last person you should consult is one of your players.

I promise you that on August 31, 1990, virtually every Boston Red Sox player was absolutely thrilled to hear that management had acquired reliever Larry Andersen from the Astros. Shoot, all they had to give up was some kid named Jeff Bagwell!

Of course, that trade now ranks as one of the most lopsided in the history of the game, and it cost the Red Sox an untold number of victories in the decade since.

Players aren't good judges for two reasons: One, they are, like most people, not good at focusing on anything other than the present and the near future; and two, they're too close to their teammates to be objective about them.

Let's get into the specifics. Everett was obviously one of Houston's best players last year. Here he is, along with a couple of other good ones:

        Pos  Games  Runs  RBI   OBP  Slug   OPS
Everett  CF   123    86   108  .398  .571   969
Bagwell  1B   162   143   126  .454  .591  1045
Biggio   2B   160   123    73  .386  .457   843        

Am I the only one who thinks that third column counts for something? Does Mike Hampton really believe that a player who missed six weeks of the season was more valuable than a player with a better on-base percentage, a better slugging percentage, and 39 more games played?

Ah, but perhaps this was a single-season fluke. Except, of course, the only fluke was Everett's outstanding performance. That .398 on-base percentage? His career high, by nearly 40 points. That .571 slugging percentage? Also his career high, and by nearly 90 points.

Bagwell's and Biggio's numbers, meanwhile, were not really out of character with their recent seasons. One might argue that Everett was the Astros' best player last year, at least when he was healthy enough to play, but to argue that Everett is their best player is tough. Real tough.

Exhibit B: Al Martin
Martin said something so obviously ridiculous that within a 30-minute span Thursday morning, six readers brought it to my attention.

As you probably heard, Martin was recently traded to the Padres, for whom he is expected to bat leadoff. Tony Gwynn expressed a bit of discomfort with this notion, but Martin replied (to a writer, not Gwynn), "I try to set the tone by being aggressive and getting on base ... Runs are what wins games, not on-base percentage."

Quite true, Al. Unfortunately, it's difficult to score runs if you're never on base. OK, so "never" is a bit harsh. But Martin has posted a .319 OBP over the last two seasons, and that's just not getting it done. It's unfortunate, too, because he's an excellent basestealer, at least in terms of percentage. Over those same two seasons, Martin has swiped 40 bases and been nabbed only six times.

The speed is nice, and so is the stolen-base percentage. But as someone wiser than I once said, "You can't steal first base."

And getting back to the point I really wanted to make here, there is obviously a correlation between on-base percentage and scoring. A year ago, Cleveland led the American League in OBP, and also led the American League in scoring. Anaheim posted the worst team OBP, and finished next-to-last in scoring.

As it happens, slugging percentage correlates just about as well with scoring, but in Martin's case, we're talking about his suitability for the leadoff spot. Given his career progression, it's likely that his batting average (and probably his on-base percentage) will slowly decline, but his power may well hold steady or increase over the next few seasons. Thus, he's one of the last guys who should be leading off for the Padres this year, and I'll be shocked if he's doing so at the All-Star break.

I suppose this all must sound pretty arrogant to some of you. Who does this scrawny columnist think he is, acting like he knows more about baseball than the men who actually get paid to play the game?

Hey, you want to learn how to throw a curveball? Ask Mike Hampton. Want to learn how to hit a curveball? Ask Al Martin. But if you want to know how it all comes together, most of the time you don't want to ask a ballplayer, any more than you'd ask a tree how to manage a forest, because most ballplayers (and most trees) don't have the necessary perspective. They're too busy worrying about their own little piece of the forest.

MONDAY, FEB. 28
Sunday in The Seattle Times, Jeff Nelson was quoted as saying, "I'm glad Detroit and Kansas City have done some things so they can give Cleveland a run."

To which Times baseball reporter Larry Stone retorted (to the readers, not to Nelson), "Kansas City will contend in the AL Central the day Steve Balboni makes the Hall of Fame."

Regrettably, Stone is exactly right. Nelson is nuttier than an elephant's feed bag, as the Royals will be pushing their luck just to win 75 games this year. But later in his column, he went too far, writing, "Current Royals CEO David Glass remains the heavy favorite to purchase the Royals, though it's not clear why anyone would want to."

Hold on there, pardner. That's going a little too far. Because anyone who really knows baseball knows that, while the club will never have the kind of revenues needed to beat the big boys, the talent in the pipeline will soon make a wild card run possible. So the likely $75 million price on the Royals might eventually be considered a great bargain.

But don't worry, this column's not about the Royals. They may serve as great fodder for Larry Stone's quips, but his condescension is misplaced. The Royals are interesting, whether he wants to admit it or not. But this got me to thinking ... are there any clubs that truly are not interesting?

I love the game, so I would have to argue that the answer is "No." But with all due respect to fans in Wisconsin, I gotta say the Brewers come awfully close.

You look at the Brewers, and one thought comes to mind: "I hope Bud Selig runs Major League Baseball better than he ran the Milwaukee Brewers."

About the best you can say about the Brewers is that they've got a few players -- Jeromy Burnitz, Geoff Jenkins, Ronnie Belliard -- who might be real good. Not great, but real good. Actually, that's not fair to Burnitz, who should be one of the league's best right fielders if he remains healthy.

But does that make the Brewers interesting? Hardly. Sammy Sosa is interesting. Vlad Guerrero is interesting. Jeromy Burnitz is the CD that got a three-star review in Rolling Stone. He's the smart, pretty girl who isn't quite smart enough or pretty enough to give you the courage you need. He's the yellow Camaro. In other words, you're not going to flip back to the Brewers game every few minutes to see what Jeromy Burnitz does next.

At least Burnitz can play. The Brewers are epitomized by the situation at first base, where they've got a rookie (Kevin Barker) who can't hit, and a veteran (Sean Berry) who can't hit.

(If I might digress for a moment, the Brewers' "handling" of Sean Berry ranks as one of the more asinine things in recent seasons. On the strength of half a good season (1998), the Brewers signed Berry to a multi-year deal and shifted him from third to first base, thus committing two cardinal player-personnel sins at once: signing a decent but injury-prone player in his early 30s to a two-year contract, and moving him to a position which negated the value of his offensive contribution. As it turned out, there was no offensive contribution, as Berry hit significantly worse than Rey Ordonez and wound up losing his job.)

Barker's young, but there's no reason to get excited about him. Based on his minor-league stats, he'll hit more like a second baseman than a first baseman.

The pitching? I like Steve Woodard, but if he's your No. 1 starter you're in big, big trouble. No, that's not fair. Woodard as your No. 1 starter means you're simply in big trouble. You're in big, big trouble when Nos. 2 and 3 are Jimmy Haynes and Jamey Wright ... and wouldn't you know it, that's your 2000 Milwaukee Brewers. Oh, and Bob Wickman? The closer? He's a time bomb, always on the verge of blowing three leads in a week and losing his job. This might well be the year.

Ah, but perhaps the Brew Crew will feature some exciting young players, maybe later in the season? Don't bet on it. In his Minor League Scouting Notebook 2000, John Sickels lists the top 55 prospects in the game. None are property of the Brewers. John does analyze 44 apprentice Brewers, and here's how their "grades" come out:

    Grade #Prospects
    A         0
    B+        0
    B         2
    B-        1
    C+        4
    C        17
    C-       20

Granted, the grades are not evenly distributed; that is, Sickels awards far more "C"s than "A"s. Still, that's horrible, it really is. I'm not sure if the Brewers have the least talent of any organization, but they've gotta be close, right down there with the Angels. (The Royals, by the way, have eight prospects rated at B- or better. The Twins have six, which makes them at least marginally more interesting than the Brewers.)

True, John Sickels is just one man. But among David Rawnsley's list of Top 50 prospects, there is also nary a Brewer farmhand to be found.

Offseason additions? Well, the Brewers got a new manager, Davey Lopes. And they got a new general manager, Dean Taylor. Unfortunately, Taylor hasn't gotten Lopes anybody who can play. Quite literally, the Brewers don't have one new player worth mentioning. (Unfortunately, they did lose a couple, Dave Nilsson and Jeff Cirillo.)

I feel sorry for Brewers fans, I really do. Yes, they've got the new ballpark in 2001, and presumably that means they'll spend some money. But adding a couple of mid-range free agents won't make this club a contender. There is, quite frankly, no reason to think the Brewers will compete for anything other than third place for at least three years. So about the only reason to attend Brewers games is to say goodbye to County Stadium. And we did that last year.

TUESDAY, FEB. 29
There are three things every Rookie of the Year needs, and those three things can be summed up with three letters: O-A-S.

Opportunity
Ability
Support

Opportunity is more important than Ability? You bet. Mediocre players have become Rookies of the Year, but nobody ever won the award spending his summer in Omaha. Or Tacoma, which is why you're not going to read about Ryan Anderson any more than you just did.

Ability is obvious. But it's important to distinguish between future ability and current ability. Cubs center fielder Corey Patterson may well be the No. 1 prospect in the game -- personally, I think his lack of plate patience drops him lower than that -- but either way he's at least a year from playing well in Wrigley Field. Here, Ability means the ability to play at a high level as a major league rookie.

And support? If you're pitching for a team that doesn't score runs, you're going to have problems winning enough games to impress the voters. And if you're hitting for a team that doesn't score runs, you're going to have problems racking up the RBI that impress the voters. Preston Wilson slugged .502 last year, but he only drove in 71 runs, in part, because the Marlins batting ahead of him weren't reaching base.

Given all of the above, I've selected seven prime candidates for American League Rookie of the Year (we'll do the National League tomorrow). If someone's missing, it's because they lack either Ability or (more likely) Opportunity. I won't disqualify a player due to Support, but that might be considered at some point.

In alphabetical order ...

Kansas City's Dee Brown is going to be a fantastic hitter in the major leagues, but right now the Opportunity simply isn't there. Brown can play two positions, left field and DH, and right now the are set at both. Plus, Brown hasn't played an inning of Triple-A, so management would like to see him at that level for at least half a season. So unless something happens to Johnny Damon or Mark Quinn, Brown is no Rookie of the Year candidate at all.

Much the same might be said of Nick Johnson, who tore up Double-A last year but has yet to play any Triple-A ball. As a left-handed hitter Johnson may benefit from Darryl Strawberry's latest troubles. I suspect the Yankees will make a move to acquire a lefty DH, but if not then Johnson, an on-base machine, would do nicely, then take over first base in 2001.

You probably know all about Ruben Mateo. He took over in center field for the Rangers last June, but suffered a broken hamate bone just three plate appearances short of losing his rookie status. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here. Mateo's an excellent defensive center fielder, probably a future Gold Glover. And he showed good power last year, hitting 23 home runs in only 375 professional at-bats. There are still some holes, though. Mateo walked only four times in 127 plate appearances after joining the Rangers. And last year's injury wasn't his first. But Mateo is quite similar to Carlos Beltran, the AL Rookie of the Year in 1999.

Pitcher Ramon Ortiz certainly has the Ability and the Opportunity; he can throw his fastball 95 miles an hour, his slider's just as good, and the Angels have already awarded him the No. 3 slot in their rotation. The problem here is Support. Even if Ortiz pitches wonderfully, the Angels probably won't score enough runs for him to win the 15-17 games he'd need to be a legitimate Rookie of the Year candidate.

It's funny, Mark Quinn doesn't make anyone's list of top prospects ... but I found three projections for him, and all three show him slugging better than .500 this season, with a nice OBP to go with it. Yes, he'll be 26 in May, so we're not talking about a future Hall of Famer here. But if I could have any of these guys for just one season, Quinn is the one I'd take. Unfortunately for his Rookie of the Year chances, the Royals don't really know what they have, so Quinn might end up platooning at DH with Paul Sorrento or somebody.

A fair number of White Sox fans are optimistic about the future, and a young right-hander named Kip Wells is one of the reasons. Wells signed his first professional contract a year ago, and breezed through Class A (5-6, 4.57) and Class AA (8-2, 2.94) before landing in Chicago, where he went 4-1 with a 4.04 ERA against major league hitters. That's impressive. Wells gets his sinking fastball into the low-middle 90s (92-93), and he complements the heat with a fantastic curve and a decent changeup. However, Wells' strikeout-to-walk ratio in Double-A was not impressive last year, so he might take a few lumps this year, when he's expected to start the season in the rotation.

Blue Jays center fielder Vernon Wells is a hot pick for Rookie of the Year, probably because he managed to play at all four levels last year, finishing up with 24 games in the majors. Though Wells performed brilliantly in A-ball and Double-A, and credibly in Triple-A, the consensus among analysts seems to be that he could use another half-season in Syracuse. That addresses Ability. As for Opportunity, Jose Cruz Jr. still might have something to say about who plays center field for the Jays in 2000. The Blue Jays don't seem to have a plan yet, but if Cruz gets traded then Wells' stock goes way up.

As the Yankees' probable fifth starter, Ed Yarnall doesn't have to worry about support, that's for sure. Opportunity's another thing, as two things could keep him from pitching enough to earn consideration. One, as the fifth starter he simply won't get as many chances. And two, his spot's not set in stone, so a few poor March outings could land him in the bullpen or even Triple-A Columbus. The Ability is there, though. Yarnall might not have the biggest arm, but he has good command of three pitches, including a moving fastball. Last year in Triple-A, Yarnall went 13-4 with a 3.47 ERA, and a fine 146/57 K-to-walk ratio in 145 innings.

With pitchers, it's so tough. A year ago, we all knew that Freddy Garcia was a good prospect, but who knew he'd be so good so fast? And who predicted that Tim Hudson would be the best rookie pitcher in the American League?

That said, there's really not anybody here who knocks your socks off, no Rick Ankiel. Anyway, here's how I rate the Rookie of the Year candidates (while acknowledging that somebody like Matt Riley (O's pitcher) or Mike Lamb (Rangers third baseman) will almost certainly establish himself as a candidate this summer):

1. Ruben Mateo
2. Mark Quinn
3. Kip Wells
4. Ed Yarnall
5. Ramon Ortiz
6. Nick Johnson
7. Dee Brown

Perhaps Johnson and Brown are rated too high, since both are slated for Triple-A. But if something changes and they get the Opportunity, their Ability will make them great Rookie of the Year candidates, and I don't want to read this column in six months, hit my forehead and say, "D'oh!"