The All-Star Game starters were announced Thursday night, right about the end of the 16th inning at Target Field, where I was sitting. I remember because just as the first couple of names came out, it struck me how long we'd all be in the press box there. It was getaway day, too -- for both teams -- and I scanned my colleagues looking for any acute evidence of distress. It was everywhere.
With a flight looming at the Minneapolis airport and obvious signs that sportswriters were on the verge of cracking in a very disturbing way, I packed up quickly and left. As I neared the gates, I heard a great roar, but it had nothing to do with the merciful end of a Methuselah-esque game. They had announced local hero Jorge Polanco as the starting shortstop for the American League. I listened to the Twins broadcast on my headphones as I speed-walked to get away and learned that Polanco will be Minnesota's first All-Star starter at shortstop since Roy Smalley. So then I knew that, and now so do you.
I was safely at the airport when I found out that the game had, indeed, ended.
So how did the voting turn out? I was curious about that because this is, after all, a new thing -- baseball's first attempt at a good-naturedly cheesy way of making the voting process structurally similar to a presidential election. And what generates more good cheer than a presidential election?
Snarkiness aside, from my through-lens in Minnesota, I thought the actual execution of the idea was a lot of fun. The Twins had four players who had advanced to the final round, so on Wednesday, they had those four players -- Polanco, Eddie Rosario, Nelson Cruz and C.J. Cron -- out on the street doing stump speeches. Before the game that night, injured utility player Marwin Gonzalez was wearing one of those old-timey "vote for" signs that is draped over the shoulders. He was prancing around the batting cage on the field with that thing on. Meanwhile, the Twins' media relations staff was handing out rolls of "I voted" stickers. I did not get one because of, you know, objectivity. I saw similar stunts going on at other parks as I caught glimpses of MLB TV on various monitors around the stadium. All good fun.
As for the actual results, it was actually kind of anticlimactic. That's not to disparage the idea. I hope they keep this format because it can only gain momentum from here and lead teams down new avenues of creativity. But from a surprise standpoint, there wasn't much. That's not necessarily a bad thing, either -- too many surprises in any process is a surefire sign the process is flawed.
In the American League, the players fell into a very similar order to how they finished during the primary phase of the process. There were two exceptions. First, the Angels' Tommy La Stella dropped from first to third, swapping spots with DJ LeMahieu, with both of them sandwiched around Jose Altuve. Also, in a fairly stunning turn of events, Hunter Pence leapfrogged J.D. Martinez and will be the AL's starting designated hitter. Martinez topped Pence by just over 500,000 votes in the primary phase.
It was very similar on the National League side. At second base, Ketel Marte jumped past Ozzie Albies and Mike Moustakas, fairly surprising given the level of Braves fever in Atlanta right now. And that's really about it. The final vote wasn't in lockstep with the primary, but it was pretty close.
So what's it mean? For me, it means this extra step hasn't done anything to undermine the integrity of the selection process. There wasn't a weird groundswell of all Yankees or all Cubs. In fact, the uber-popular Cubs have two starters, and neither one of them is Anthony Rizzo or Kris Bryant. Who would have thunk that?
Of course, the important thing here is how closely the fans' picks mirrored my own. How did you all do?
In the AL, I'll ignore DH. I decided to go rogue and choose Joey Gallo, who wasn't an option on the actual ballot at that position. So forget that. Beyond that, there were two differences. I went with Mookie Betts over George Springer in the outfield. I can't fault the fan choice here at all, and I'm glad that the axe-handle bat will still be in action for the Midsummer Classic. And at catcher, I went with Robinson Chirinos. The fans took Gary Sanchez and it wasn't close. Frankly, it's not a great position right now in the AL, so I have no real quibbles here, either. Good job, fans!
In the NL, Phillies catcher J.T. Realmuto didn't make the final vote, which was a big mistake on the fans' part. Of the finalists, I would have taken Willson Contreras as the fans did, but Realmuto was the choice for me here, narrowly over Yasmani Grandal. I had Moustakas at second base, though when you consider that he, like fan winner Marte, has spent plenty of time at other positions, that's sort of telling about another spot that's not a great position right now.
The biggie is probably my selection of Paul DeJong at shortstop, where the fans went with Javier Baez. DeJong was massively underrated by the fans during the primary process, finishing eighth at what is admittedly a very strong position this season. I ended up leaving Baez off my NL roster altogether, though I felt bad about doing do. Sorry, Javy. But when you start trying to balance positions and getting a player for every team, you have to make some hard choices.
All and all, though, I think the big takeaway from this year's selection of starters is that the fans did a great job. There was more than the usual bit of rumbling from players about unfairness in the process, and taking the time to determine the extent to which that is true would be a worthwhile project. But when it comes to picking the best of the best, the fans' hearts dovetailed very nicely with the brains of the analysts.
In fact, it's almost like the fans used their brains (of course, they did) and it seems there was a lot of fun in the process, making this one of the more enjoyable selection seasons I can remember. Still, next year, how about just a little more love for Paul DeJong?
Extra innings
1. From 1903 to 1953, there were no franchise shifts in Major League Baseball. Sixteen teams in the same places for a half-century. This is often thought of as kind of a classical period in the sport's history, but of course it was not exactly that, not when so many of the best athletes in the country were blocked from playing because of a 19th-century "gentlemen's agreement." Besides, that stability of franchises was misleading, more a sign of complacency than prosperity.
Finally, beginning with the Boston Braves' relocation to Milwaukee for the 1953 season, teams started to move, and at its highest level, MLB gradually spread from coast to coast. Today, six of those 16 classical-era franchises play in different locales than they did for all those decades. Each of them acknowledges its forerunners differently.
The Braves aggressively acknowledge their Boston and Milwaukee roots at SunTrust Park, with everyone from Kid Nichols to Warren Spahn to Dale Murphy honored at different spots around the venue.
The flip side of that is the St. Louis Browns, a long-gone team with an active and enthusiastic fan club still operating in St. Louis. However, if the Orioles acknowledge their Brownie origins in any fashion, it's certainly not evident in their media guide. I could find one mention of the Browns in the entire publication. The Browns have a little bit more, but not much, of a presence at Busch Stadium III. There's a George Sisler statue outside, and that's about the pinnacle these days of being a St. Louis Browns fan.
Elsewhere, the Dodgers and Giants have kept their old Big Apple flames burning through the years, with Brooklyn in particular being omnipresent at Dodger Stadium in various ways, from the recorded voice of Vin Scully to the occasional presence of Sandy Koufax (and, until he recently passed, Don Newcombe) and all the "B" hats you see around the park.
In Minnesota, you don't see much evidence of the Washington Senators around Target Field, and there isn't much in the Twins' current media guide about them. The old Senators have been thoroughly rebranded. The Twins maintain franchise records, of course, but tend to emphasize Twins records over franchise marks, which has the awkward consequence of shorting Harmon Killebrew some of his production. The Killer, no longer with us, would have to make do with the big statue of him outside of the ballpark.
The second version of the Senators enjoyed a brief, completely unsuccessful run from 1961 to 1971 before becoming the Texas Rangers. There's not a lot to recommend those Senators teams, but the Rangers managed to produce a couple of pages in their media guide about them. After all -- Ted Williams was involved, and who wouldn't want to claim a piece of Teddy Ballgame?
On the bright side, the Washington Nationals have been proactive at honoring all previous iterations of D.C. baseball. There are pages and pages on it in the media guide, with year-by-year listings and combined records, for the Nationals alone and the Nationals along with both versions of the Senators and the long-ago teams that also called the nation's capital home. There are statues at Nationals Park of Walter Johnson and Josh Gibson. Really, if they want statues they have to do this, because the Nats simply haven't been around long enough.
The Nationals don't stop there: They also proudly claim the history and records of the team they sprang from: the Montreal Expos. In fact, the Nationals have a throwback uniform day coming up in which they will sport Expos powder-blue uniforms.
And ... that's where we run into trouble.
Ordinarily, I love these kind of throwback initiatives. This one is in bad taste. While it has been 14 years since the Expos became the Nationals, my sense is that there is a fair bit of lingering bitterness north of the border. This I learned from still-enthusiastic Expos fans who have traveled to Cooperstown, New York, the past couple of years for the inductions of Tim Raines and Vladimir Guerrero Sr. The topic moved to the front burner two years ago when the Nationals honored an Expos-jersey-wearing Raines.
When the Nationals wear those powder blues, it's not going to rekindle happy memories. It's going to give everyone (beginning here with me, I guess) a chance to recall the sorrowful set of circumstances that robbed the fans in Montreal of their team. If you need a refresher on those, this is an excellent summation from a credible outlet that happens to also be based in D.C.
That is not a sequence of events that needs to be honored. There is still a baseball community in Montreal, and if anyone needs to have a ceremony to pay homage to the Expos and their players, that's where it should be done. The Toronto Blue Jays play an exhibition game in Montreal each season and that's a good enough time -- for now -- to keep Expos memories alive.
Complicating all of this of course is the fact that Montreal is trying very hard to get a new version of the Expos. MLB still holds all trademark rights to the Expos brand, so if a team relocates there or an expansion team arrives, it's not a crazy notion. Not for nothing, baseball seems very interested in a return there. (I won't get into what I see as the unrealistic two-city solution that emerged this week. From a branding standpoint, that's awkward at best.)
The history here is ugly enough that I'd pose this question: If the Black Sox had distinctive 1919 uniforms, should this year's White Sox wear them for a day? After all -- it's the 100-year anniversary of a pennant winner. But, no, they wouldn't and shouldn't want to go anywhere near that.
As long as bitter feelings linger in Montreal, and the possibility of MLB returning to the city remains in the realistic realm, let's leave Expos history where it belongs -- in Canada. I know the Nats are trying to do a positive thing here, but they should really just leave it alone. The Expos are Montreal's team. And if the Nationals didn't do this, would anybody in D.C. really care?
2. The other day, during the glorious return of Albert Pujols to St. Louis, I wrote a short piece posing the question about whose future you would buy -- the peak version of Pujols or the present version of Mike Trout.
Near the end of that, I referred to Pujols as a second-tier Hall of Famer. I know some people took exception to that, as if it were pejorative to be placed on the second-best level of players among everyone who has ever played the game. This is linguistic semantics. We use the term "second-tier status" as a put-down in numerous other contexts, so I get it. In this case, I was being very literal. A few months ago, I went about the trouble of placing all Hall of Famers into tiers. It's not a criticism -- it's very much a compliment for Pujols, and because I place Trout on the highest tier, even more so for him.
Here are the names of a few second-tier Hall of Famers per the method I designed for that story: Mike Schmidt, Joe Morgan, Lefty Grove, Mel Ott, Jimmie Foxx, Christy Mathewson, Cal Ripken Jr., Joe DiMaggio, Frank Robinson and Johnny Bench. There are 19 altogether, so Pujols would make 20. Trout would be the 15th player in the first tier -- baseball's pantheon.
So when I call Albert Pujols a second-tier Hall of Famer, please don't be irate. That's a tier any of us would be lucky to end up on.
3. All roads toward the palace of wisdom regarding this year's home run surge point to the ball being either too screwed or too perfect, depending on your perspective. Other possible contributing factors to glut of long balls have been floated though, including this one: More hard throwers means more balls hit into play off high velocities.
Is that a thing? This is a superficial look, but I used TruMedia to group this year's fly balls into velocity buckets, then calculated the homer-per-fly ball percentage for each group. Here's what I came up with:
It doesn't track exactly as you think. When you get into average velocity levels, the ball does start to go out more frequently, but then when you get to elite velocities, the percentage drops a bit. That's true even when you reduce the size of the velocity buckets, though with just a half-season of data, the samples are pretty small.
This is not conclusive by any stretch, but it appears to me that elite velocity, among all the other things it does, makes it harder to barrel up the ball, thus the homer-per-fly ball rate is affected. So, again, it's the ball.