It didn't take long for the feelings about Andrew McCutchen to change radically.
In April, people were imploring the Pirates to extend his contract, which currently runs through the 2018 season.
Now it's the end of June, and people are recommending the Pirates trade him, preferably yesterday. What they might get for him is purely an afterthought. If he can be bartered to San Diego for a middle reliever and a truckload of guacamole, so be it.
There's no question McCutchen is struggling badly, the first prolonged slump of his career. If the pitching staff wasn't so bad, this would be even more of an issue. Somehow the offense has learned to function around McCutchen's sub-standard production.
What's wrong? That's a question Clint Hurdle and his coaches must spend 23 hours a day contemplating. Of all the questions the Pirates had coming into the season, McCutchen wasn't one of them.
He was the rock. Except now he's the kind of rock that causes something to sink the bottom of the lake.
That .239 average he took into Saturday's game was lower than the career averages of Clint Barmes (.245) and Jose Lind (.254).
We're long past the point where this can be dismissed as McCutchen's typical slow start. The Pirates have played 73 games.
So what's wrong? At 29, he's not over the hill. In fact, he's in his prime. He had a lousy September last year (.236 average, .743 OPS), but there was no reason to think that should carry over.
Batting second for much of this season shouldn't have mattered, either, just as returning to third spot hasn't made a difference.
The best guess is that the problem is physical. McCutchen's lingering thumb injury is an open secret, even if it's never discussed in detail. It could affect his grip on the bat. Remember the early season games when the announcers kept noticing that he had "just missed" making better contact?
The amount of swing-and-miss is unprecedented in McCutchen's career.
Here's something that might be telling:
On May 5 last year, another 0-for-4 game dropped McCutchen's average to .185 and his OPS to .574, McCutchen stood in front of his locker and defiantly promised better days were ahead.
"I know it's going to come," he said. "Get me while I'm down. Once I get going, I ain't stopping."
From that point, McCutchen hit .312 in his last 132 games with an OPS of .949.
Maybe this is telling: There has been no similar promise this season. Does that mean McCutchen isn't confident he can turn this tailspin around?
---
--MOVING ON
The Penguins finally gave up on Beau Bennett, trading him to New Jersey on Saturday.
Bennett had the cool name, the unlikely southern California background and the worst luck with injuries of any hockey player.
He was always out with something. Last year he got hurt when he slammed himself into the glass to celebrate a rare goal.
Maybe a change of scenery will help him. Or maybe there will just be a different team logo on the injury list that includes his name.
---
--PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE
Peyton Manning has listed six NFL teams he'll be rooting for this season.
The Steelers are not among them.
That settles it. No Primanti's for him. Ever.
Keep eating those chicken parm sandwiches, Omaha.
---
--STATS OVERLOAD
Statistics are taking over baseball. Part of the challenge is determining which ones are relevant.
The Fox broadcast crew dropped this nugget of nothing via John Smoltz: Jeff Locke's numbers are so much better when he pitches into the sixth inning.
He's in the game in the sixth because he's pitching well.
Their version is like saying it feels so much colder when the temperature is below 30.
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Altoona Mirror, June 19, 2016
The Pirates are desperate for starting pitching help, and Tyler Glasnow is winning in the minor leagues.
So what's the hold-up on what would appear to be a logical move?
Hmm, could it be that Glasnow isn't ready?
Based on the need for quality starting pitching at the major league level, it certainly appears that way.
Glasnow pitched six no-hit innings the other night, but he also walked six batters. His walk totals are high (42 in 77 innings), and they've been trending upward lately.
From this considerable distance, it looks like Glasnow is one of those young pitchers who can simply blow away Class AAA hitters with his stuff when he's in a jam. That works that that level, as evidenced by his 6-2 record and 1.75 earned run average.
It's a much more risky proposition in the major leagues.
Bring Glasnow up before he's ready to seriously compete, and there's a danger of damaging his development.
That's the risk, and that's the answer to the "Well, he can't be any worse than Jeff Locke" mob. Getting to the major leagues and getting pounded could actually slow down Glasnow's promising career.
If that's at stake, leave him in Indianapolis until he's ready.
This is not a policy exclusive to the current Pirates' regime. Joe L. Brown, was the team's general manager from 1955-76, believed it was always better to call up a prospect later rather than sooner.
Ballplayers aren't like bananas, and don't spoil if they're left behind to ripen. No one ever claimed a career was ruined by spending some extra time in the minor leagues.
This is not a money issue. The safe date for arbitration has passed. There's no possible financial penalty for bringing up Glasnow before he's ready.
The Pirates' organization has him under constant scrutiny. They get reports from his manager and pitching coach after every start. Other eyes in the organization are on him, too.
They don't think he's ready. They have more information than anyone on Glasnow. They have more reason to want him to be ready than anyone else.
So that must mean he's not ready, no matter how dazzling the minor league stats might be.
---
--ALL ON BOARD
The crowd for the Penguins' Stanley Cup parade was estimated at 400,000 last week. This led at least one of the speakers to proclaim the town was crazy for hockey.
It is whenever the Stanley Cup is present.
Everybody loves a winner, which isn't exactly a scoop.
Pittsburgh loves a party, and loves it even more when it's free.
If anyone didn't mind standing shoulder to shoulder with in oppressive heat and humidity, the parade was a great experience.
---
--WHAT'S THE FUTURE?
A lot of people spoke at the parade/rally.
Franchise owners Ron Burkle and Mario Lemieux were not on that list.
Too bad. Before the season, they announced they were exploring the possibility of selling the franchise. There hasn't been a lot of news on that front since then.
It would be good to have some information.
This has always been a business proposition for Burkle, a California-based billionaire who has no evident affection for hockey or ties to Pittsburgh.
The belief is that Lemieux wants to cash out at age 50 and enjoy life in the mansion he's had built near Montreal, where his extended family still lives. His four children are out of the house and there's nothing to bind him to western Pennsylvania.
---
--GAME SEVEN
Can you really be cruel enough to root against downtrodden Cleveland's Cavaliers tonight?
---
--HAIR TODAY...
Now that the NHL playoff beards are gone, Donald Trump's carefully-engineered comb-over has reclaimed its title as America's most outrageous hair.
So what's the hold-up on what would appear to be a logical move?
Hmm, could it be that Glasnow isn't ready?
Based on the need for quality starting pitching at the major league level, it certainly appears that way.
Glasnow pitched six no-hit innings the other night, but he also walked six batters. His walk totals are high (42 in 77 innings), and they've been trending upward lately.
From this considerable distance, it looks like Glasnow is one of those young pitchers who can simply blow away Class AAA hitters with his stuff when he's in a jam. That works that that level, as evidenced by his 6-2 record and 1.75 earned run average.
It's a much more risky proposition in the major leagues.
Bring Glasnow up before he's ready to seriously compete, and there's a danger of damaging his development.
That's the risk, and that's the answer to the "Well, he can't be any worse than Jeff Locke" mob. Getting to the major leagues and getting pounded could actually slow down Glasnow's promising career.
If that's at stake, leave him in Indianapolis until he's ready.
This is not a policy exclusive to the current Pirates' regime. Joe L. Brown, was the team's general manager from 1955-76, believed it was always better to call up a prospect later rather than sooner.
Ballplayers aren't like bananas, and don't spoil if they're left behind to ripen. No one ever claimed a career was ruined by spending some extra time in the minor leagues.
This is not a money issue. The safe date for arbitration has passed. There's no possible financial penalty for bringing up Glasnow before he's ready.
The Pirates' organization has him under constant scrutiny. They get reports from his manager and pitching coach after every start. Other eyes in the organization are on him, too.
They don't think he's ready. They have more information than anyone on Glasnow. They have more reason to want him to be ready than anyone else.
So that must mean he's not ready, no matter how dazzling the minor league stats might be.
---
--ALL ON BOARD
The crowd for the Penguins' Stanley Cup parade was estimated at 400,000 last week. This led at least one of the speakers to proclaim the town was crazy for hockey.
It is whenever the Stanley Cup is present.
Everybody loves a winner, which isn't exactly a scoop.
Pittsburgh loves a party, and loves it even more when it's free.
If anyone didn't mind standing shoulder to shoulder with in oppressive heat and humidity, the parade was a great experience.
---
--WHAT'S THE FUTURE?
A lot of people spoke at the parade/rally.
Franchise owners Ron Burkle and Mario Lemieux were not on that list.
Too bad. Before the season, they announced they were exploring the possibility of selling the franchise. There hasn't been a lot of news on that front since then.
It would be good to have some information.
This has always been a business proposition for Burkle, a California-based billionaire who has no evident affection for hockey or ties to Pittsburgh.
The belief is that Lemieux wants to cash out at age 50 and enjoy life in the mansion he's had built near Montreal, where his extended family still lives. His four children are out of the house and there's nothing to bind him to western Pennsylvania.
---
--GAME SEVEN
Can you really be cruel enough to root against downtrodden Cleveland's Cavaliers tonight?
---
--HAIR TODAY...
Now that the NHL playoff beards are gone, Donald Trump's carefully-engineered comb-over has reclaimed its title as America's most outrageous hair.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Altoona Mirror, June 12, 2016
No matter what happens in San Jose tonight, the Penguins will move on to the business of their offseason late this week.
Most other teams have been working on these decisions for at least a month, so the Penguins will be playing catch-up. That's one of the side effects of making the Stanley Cup Final, and who wouldn't accept that trade off?
One of the most interesting issues will be how to handle the goaltending position. Rookie Matt Murray, a veteran of 13 regular season games and 20 in the playoffs, is now the starter. In four rounds of playoffs, Marc-Andre Fleury has played four periods.
The assumption is the Penguins will seek to trade Fleury and install Murray as No. 1. He clearly has coach Mike Sullivan's confidence.
Win or lose, and no matter how loudly the offseason clock is ticking, the Penguins might want to thoroughly think this one through.
Fleury's body of work includes the 2009 Cup championship and 357 regular season wins. At 31, he's not old. He's one of the great teammates in the history of the NHL.
He never makes excuses, and he's never thrown a teammate under the bus, even though there have been hundreds of times when that could have been justified.
Murray has done a good job, but he hasn't been spectacular by any means. Do the Penguins trust him with their future based on what they've seen over the last few months?
This team's personnel and contracts make runs at more championships viable.
Back when Craig Patrick was still an effective GM, he had a policy of taking a couple of weeks after the season before making major decisions. He wanted to get some distance from the emotion, whether it was positive or negative.
The Penguins would do well to embrace that idea, even though their offseason time is compromised.
---
--FLABBY MIDDLE
If you think the Pirates have middle relief problems, you're not incorrect. You're just missing a bigger point.
Nobody has good middle relievers. Those are the last pitchers on the staff, usually numbers 10, 11 and 12 on a 12-man staff. It's not a place for prospects to rot, or a role for someone who commands a big contract.
Those pitchers generally get into games because the starting pitchers haven't gone deep enough. That's been the bigger problem for the Pirates.
Starters should ideally pitch into the seventh inning so a team can go to its progression of skilled relievers to finish the game. When pitchers are needed in the middle innings, the call goes to the least-accomplished pitchers on the staff.
Juan Nicasio has worked five innings or less in seven of his 12 starts. That number was five of 11 starts for Francisco Liriano entering Saturday's game. Even Gerrit Cole has exited early in four of 12 starts.
Too many short starts lead to too much mediocrity out of the bullpen.
---
--SPECIAL GUEST
Congratulations to whatever person persuaded Bill Mazeroski to attend the Penguins' playoff game the other night.
TV cameras caught Mazeroski in one of the luxury boxes, merrily waving a rally towel as the Penguins attempted to win a championship in Pittsburgh for the first time since Mazeroski's home run ended the 1960 World Series.
Maz turns 80 in September and usually doesn't go out much unless he gets a chance to golf.
---
--OVERSTATING THE CASE
When Neil Walker visited with the New York Mets last week, there was talk of what his legacy would be with the Pirates.
Legacy? Isn't that a word that should be associated with heads of state, people whose decisions and actions may have changed the course of world history?
Walker was a good player for six seasons on teams that finally broke the Pirates' 20-year losing streak. He conducted himself admirably on and off the field.
He never got a vote for Most Valuable Player, and never made an All-Star team. He was basically very similar to Johnny Ray, who played six seasons at second base for the Pirates. Ray had a better average, Walker had more power.
Nobody ever talks about Johnny Ray's legacy.
Most other teams have been working on these decisions for at least a month, so the Penguins will be playing catch-up. That's one of the side effects of making the Stanley Cup Final, and who wouldn't accept that trade off?
One of the most interesting issues will be how to handle the goaltending position. Rookie Matt Murray, a veteran of 13 regular season games and 20 in the playoffs, is now the starter. In four rounds of playoffs, Marc-Andre Fleury has played four periods.
The assumption is the Penguins will seek to trade Fleury and install Murray as No. 1. He clearly has coach Mike Sullivan's confidence.
Win or lose, and no matter how loudly the offseason clock is ticking, the Penguins might want to thoroughly think this one through.
Fleury's body of work includes the 2009 Cup championship and 357 regular season wins. At 31, he's not old. He's one of the great teammates in the history of the NHL.
He never makes excuses, and he's never thrown a teammate under the bus, even though there have been hundreds of times when that could have been justified.
Murray has done a good job, but he hasn't been spectacular by any means. Do the Penguins trust him with their future based on what they've seen over the last few months?
This team's personnel and contracts make runs at more championships viable.
Back when Craig Patrick was still an effective GM, he had a policy of taking a couple of weeks after the season before making major decisions. He wanted to get some distance from the emotion, whether it was positive or negative.
The Penguins would do well to embrace that idea, even though their offseason time is compromised.
---
--FLABBY MIDDLE
If you think the Pirates have middle relief problems, you're not incorrect. You're just missing a bigger point.
Nobody has good middle relievers. Those are the last pitchers on the staff, usually numbers 10, 11 and 12 on a 12-man staff. It's not a place for prospects to rot, or a role for someone who commands a big contract.
Those pitchers generally get into games because the starting pitchers haven't gone deep enough. That's been the bigger problem for the Pirates.
Starters should ideally pitch into the seventh inning so a team can go to its progression of skilled relievers to finish the game. When pitchers are needed in the middle innings, the call goes to the least-accomplished pitchers on the staff.
Juan Nicasio has worked five innings or less in seven of his 12 starts. That number was five of 11 starts for Francisco Liriano entering Saturday's game. Even Gerrit Cole has exited early in four of 12 starts.
Too many short starts lead to too much mediocrity out of the bullpen.
---
--SPECIAL GUEST
Congratulations to whatever person persuaded Bill Mazeroski to attend the Penguins' playoff game the other night.
TV cameras caught Mazeroski in one of the luxury boxes, merrily waving a rally towel as the Penguins attempted to win a championship in Pittsburgh for the first time since Mazeroski's home run ended the 1960 World Series.
Maz turns 80 in September and usually doesn't go out much unless he gets a chance to golf.
---
--OVERSTATING THE CASE
When Neil Walker visited with the New York Mets last week, there was talk of what his legacy would be with the Pirates.
Legacy? Isn't that a word that should be associated with heads of state, people whose decisions and actions may have changed the course of world history?
Walker was a good player for six seasons on teams that finally broke the Pirates' 20-year losing streak. He conducted himself admirably on and off the field.
He never got a vote for Most Valuable Player, and never made an All-Star team. He was basically very similar to Johnny Ray, who played six seasons at second base for the Pirates. Ray had a better average, Walker had more power.
Nobody ever talks about Johnny Ray's legacy.
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Altoona Mirror, June 5, 2016
Modesty and humility don't have much place in today's sports world.
We're in an environment where a defensive back will knock down a pass, then thump his chest, do a dance and taunt the receiver who didn't catch the ball.
Never mind that his team is trailing by 20 points in the fourth quarter.
A .220 hitter takes his time getting into the batters' box because he wants to make sure everyone hears the walk-up music he's selected.
In this look-at-me environment, where someone is always trash talking an opponent or guaranteeing victory, it might be difficult to appreciate just how outrageous Cassius Clay was when he burst on the scene in the early 1960s.
He had equally great gifts for boxing and self-promotion. Where most fighters were mono-syllabic characters who let their fists do the talking, Clay was composing poetry about his upcoming fights. The verse would usually include a prediction of the round when he would finish off his opponent.
He had taken his lessons from watching wrestling on TV in his home town of Louisville. He talked about how pretty he was, and promised victory.
His behavior was so over the top for the times that he became instantly known. He established his "brand" before anyone ever thought to use that term.
Boxing was still a big mainstream sport then, and Clay figured out a way to distinguish himself in a field crowded with heavyweight contenders. He was brash and bold. He knew that some people would like it and others would hope he got knocked out. Either way, they cared about his fights.
Maybe a lout like Sonny Liston could match him in the ring; it was no contest when it came to hyping a fight.
Columbia Records took note of the new personality and had him cut a spoken word album called "Cassius Clay: I Am The Greatest."
Most sports interviews in that era went like this: A humble hero like Johnny Unitas or Mickey Mantle would stare at the floor and praise the latest opponent as a fine team. "We're going to have to do our best and hope we can get some breaks and come out on top."
That world was rattled when Clay promised to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. Imagine the impact of "My face is so pretty; you don't see a scar,
Which proves I'm the king of the ring by far."
Myron Cope traveled with Clay for a week and came away with a prize-winning magazine article titled "Feats of Clay" in 1964. Alas, it doesn't seem to be available online.
His lone Pittsburgh appearance came on Jan. 24, 1963, when he scored a third-round knockout of Charlie Powell at the Civic Arena. It was Clay's 17th pro fight.
Clay became Muhammad Ali and became controversial for more substantial reasons when he refused to serve in the military. It went unnoticed that most famous athletes met their obligation through reserve assignments that included no chance of combat in the Vietnam era.
His title was taken away and he lost three prime years of his career.
Ali returned to the Civic Arena in an odd way on Feb. 10, 1972, staging a sparring exhibition before a Pittsburgh Condors basketball game. The night drew 4,418 fans, which was about four times what the Condors usually attracted on their own.
A ring was set up at one end of the Arena and most of the spectators crowded in that part of the stands. Ali put on a show, wind milling, shadow boxing and pantomiming. It wasn't competition, it was performance and the fans ate it up.
When Ali left, most of the fans did, too. The Condors played the Memphis Pros before their usual few hundred witnesses.
Ali's methods were sometimes questionable. He identified some opponents, notably Liston and Joe Frazier, as "gorillas." He tossed around the term "Uncle Tom" recklessly. When Ernie Terrell refused to acknowledge his new Muslim identity, Ali cruelly slugged him repeatedly, shouting, "What's my name?"
He fought too long, placing his health in jeopardy to pursue paydays. His long slide into Parkinson's Disease was tough to witness. In recent years, he could barely move, speech was difficult and his face showed no expression.
When the news broke Friday that he was on life support at age 74, no one was surprised.
The retrospectives on TV will cover his career. You'll see a flamboyant character who knew how to push buttons and provoke a reaction.
Unless you were there, you might not appreciate just how much he changed sports.
We're in an environment where a defensive back will knock down a pass, then thump his chest, do a dance and taunt the receiver who didn't catch the ball.
Never mind that his team is trailing by 20 points in the fourth quarter.
A .220 hitter takes his time getting into the batters' box because he wants to make sure everyone hears the walk-up music he's selected.
In this look-at-me environment, where someone is always trash talking an opponent or guaranteeing victory, it might be difficult to appreciate just how outrageous Cassius Clay was when he burst on the scene in the early 1960s.
He had equally great gifts for boxing and self-promotion. Where most fighters were mono-syllabic characters who let their fists do the talking, Clay was composing poetry about his upcoming fights. The verse would usually include a prediction of the round when he would finish off his opponent.
He had taken his lessons from watching wrestling on TV in his home town of Louisville. He talked about how pretty he was, and promised victory.
His behavior was so over the top for the times that he became instantly known. He established his "brand" before anyone ever thought to use that term.
Boxing was still a big mainstream sport then, and Clay figured out a way to distinguish himself in a field crowded with heavyweight contenders. He was brash and bold. He knew that some people would like it and others would hope he got knocked out. Either way, they cared about his fights.
Maybe a lout like Sonny Liston could match him in the ring; it was no contest when it came to hyping a fight.
Columbia Records took note of the new personality and had him cut a spoken word album called "Cassius Clay: I Am The Greatest."
Most sports interviews in that era went like this: A humble hero like Johnny Unitas or Mickey Mantle would stare at the floor and praise the latest opponent as a fine team. "We're going to have to do our best and hope we can get some breaks and come out on top."
That world was rattled when Clay promised to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee. Imagine the impact of "My face is so pretty; you don't see a scar,
Which proves I'm the king of the ring by far."
Myron Cope traveled with Clay for a week and came away with a prize-winning magazine article titled "Feats of Clay" in 1964. Alas, it doesn't seem to be available online.
His lone Pittsburgh appearance came on Jan. 24, 1963, when he scored a third-round knockout of Charlie Powell at the Civic Arena. It was Clay's 17th pro fight.
Clay became Muhammad Ali and became controversial for more substantial reasons when he refused to serve in the military. It went unnoticed that most famous athletes met their obligation through reserve assignments that included no chance of combat in the Vietnam era.
His title was taken away and he lost three prime years of his career.
Ali returned to the Civic Arena in an odd way on Feb. 10, 1972, staging a sparring exhibition before a Pittsburgh Condors basketball game. The night drew 4,418 fans, which was about four times what the Condors usually attracted on their own.
A ring was set up at one end of the Arena and most of the spectators crowded in that part of the stands. Ali put on a show, wind milling, shadow boxing and pantomiming. It wasn't competition, it was performance and the fans ate it up.
When Ali left, most of the fans did, too. The Condors played the Memphis Pros before their usual few hundred witnesses.
Ali's methods were sometimes questionable. He identified some opponents, notably Liston and Joe Frazier, as "gorillas." He tossed around the term "Uncle Tom" recklessly. When Ernie Terrell refused to acknowledge his new Muslim identity, Ali cruelly slugged him repeatedly, shouting, "What's my name?"
He fought too long, placing his health in jeopardy to pursue paydays. His long slide into Parkinson's Disease was tough to witness. In recent years, he could barely move, speech was difficult and his face showed no expression.
When the news broke Friday that he was on life support at age 74, no one was surprised.
The retrospectives on TV will cover his career. You'll see a flamboyant character who knew how to push buttons and provoke a reaction.
Unless you were there, you might not appreciate just how much he changed sports.
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