Painting the Corners (of My Topical Breadth): A Baseball Book Review

With a beer in-hand, rather than devoured prior to a review, I offer now a different review but still on blog-topic - since this is, of course, Malty Tasker.  In response to a request for web reviewers, I received a review copy of Bob Weintraub's Painting the Corners: A Collection of Off-Center Baseball Stories (published by Iguana Books, and available in hard copy for $23.99, shipping included, or $9.99 for an ebook available in diverse formats).

As a fan of both baseball and the short story format, I was excited to devour this short book of eleven stories (even if it meant my personal enjoyment of Dirk Hayhurst's second masterpiece would have to wait!)  Yet, interested as I was, I was simultaneously skeptical since a part of my baseball love stems from its history, its legacy, its stats, its facts, its lore.  All of the baseball reading I do, and have done, is non-fiction and I tend not to get overly into baseball films that are too divorced from historical accuracy (Bull Durham as the remarkable exception in my opinion).

Yet, my reservations were tempered early as the stories drew me in and entertained, not universally, but reliably and enjoyably.

One of the things I like about short stories (and perhaps also their detriment) is that they are just that: short.  A story that doesn't catch you immediately can be completed without an early departure from an entire novel while there are other options forthcoming, and Weintraub's first offering in this series fits this mould for me, though he succeeds far more often than not.  That is, most stories affected me and drew me in deeply; some made me chuckle more than others, some made me feel more, some entertained more, but those that did catch me caught me well and they far outnumbered those that didn't catch me at all (as I would say I truly loved six of the eleven and highly enjoyed three of the remaining five).

Perhaps Weintraub's writing helped me overcome my resistance to fiction with subject matter so inexorably tied to historical continuity insofar as he weaves this history so well throughout the text (in ways not unlike Bull Durham).  Only rarely are the heroes of baseball legend invoked, but the specificities of historical time, place, context, mood, tone, era, style are woven so neatly throughout the stories that one truly gets a sense of the author's knowledge of the game.  Indeed, without quite being 'historical fiction,' these stories cannot help but be enmeshed in the history that informs Weintraub's love of the game as it informs mine.

This history goes beyond the game, bringing Canadian and American cultures and pasts surrounding wealth, racism, war, and more into the context in ways that help bring characters to life; characters that are themselves remarkably diverse.  Weintraub thus demonstrates the diversity of character and characters in the game by exploring the perspectives of managers, players, families, agents, fans, writers, owners, scouts, prisoners, kids and adults alike, and he navigates their differences as deftly as he does the differing eras and professional levels.  This makes it more than a baseball book, but it is truly the baseball historian that will love and appreciate the ways this book can illuminate this diversity through fiction, and to me that is remarkable!

Weintraub is at his best when he manages to bring the personal aspect in in ways such that the baseball aspect is merely that: an aspect.  Specifically, the following stories moved me most by going beyond baseball: "The Autograph" (about a multitude of coincidences that tie lives and baseball together), "Knuckleball" (about a knuckleballer and the social norms of our society), "The Way They Play is Criminal" (about a prison game scouted on Alcatraz), "Blowing Bubbles" (about a family, hard-dealt-hands, life, and baseball), "The Kansas City Kid" (about a player's relationship to management, and management's relationship to the club), and "A Flare for Dan Nugent" (about an old-timer struggling to accept his costly error in the seventh game of the World Series that cost his club the victory).  It is baseball that brought me in, but it is the human element and storytelling that kept me throughout these moments.

One other way that several of these stories succeed where others falter (to varying degrees) in my opinion is by not simply repeating a pattern of remarkable, epic, unique, one-in-a-trillion endings that seem at times a bit too cliché.  Don't get me wrong, baseball thrives on the no-clock, anything-can-happen endings and they should be there.  Likewise, fiction often stands out in accounting for the remarkable, so these epic endings must be present; they simply felt a bit over-used at times and the success of those stories that end more negatively, or in limbo, or with the personal at the forefront demonstrates that the baseball book - unlike the game itself - relies less on the heroic conclusion than it does on the character and context.

There were also those times when I found myself desiring more information at the end and I appreciated Weintraub's refusal to complete the stereotypical, modernist picture.  One specific instance where I wished to have more concerned the detailed lives of the generations in "Blowing Bubbles" and, in this case specifically, I was so invested in the characters that I feel this could become a longer story in itself and that its only real shortcoming was in being too good and substantive for the format.

There is, moreover, a slight dark humour and theme of fate/coincidence that runs through many of the stories, and at this too Weintraub excels.

My few slight and only sporadic misgivings aside, this book was a true pleasure to read and it helped affirm my faith in the capacities of baseball fiction to append, rather than offend, the historicity of baseball lore.  Thus, I eagerly await the planned second volume and encourage you too to check out the first (and then the second as well if so inclined!)

Do the Jays Need a Prince?

On the question of whether the Jays should approach Prince Fielder, crucial questions relate to how one feels about our 1B/DH situation, on the price and years, and on the timeline to competition.

I won't go into each of these in detail, but I have noticed a few comparisons between Vernon Wells and Fielder at this same point in their careers; comparisons that note almost identical WAR numbers at this age, pre-big contract.  These comparisons always end with the implication that we should not go after Fielder.

I am not necessarily disagreeing, BUT this Wells/Fielder comparison raises the question of to what degree that is fair.

One key difference between the two is that Fielder takes walks whereas Wells strikes out and pops up/grounds out on pitches out of the zone at a high clip.  Batters with solid plate discipline tend to age better than their free-swinging counterparts (as do 1B over CF).  Admittedly, Wells acquired some of that WAR by playing CF, a more demanding and difficult position than Fielder's first base, but we have a center fielder and we need a big bat.

Does that inherently make Fielder the guy?  Well, not necessarily, but we are told big guys break down younger, though solid plate approaches might stave that off and, I wonder, have the makers of that argument forgotten about the Big Hurt's of the world who aged fine despite their frames?  My pount here isn't that he will or won't break down, but rather that injuries cannot be predicted with any accuracy, and though results can't either the estimates are often more reliable.

Sure, it must be considered and Fielder MIGHT break down a few years before the norm, but if signed to an under-exorbitant 5-6 year deal it might be fine even so.

Why?  The market for free agents (see Pujols) makes it such that teams must pay extra for later contract years in order to acquire the services during the stronger years.  I don't think it's right, but neither do I think it will  either 1) 'tie our hands' or 2) matter if it does.

That is, 1) is a controllable 28 year old superstar on a 5-6 year deal that involves giving up none of our youth core constraining on the team's well-built future?  No.

2) Here's another question: if he helped (by hitting ahead of Joey Bats) to bring us to the playoffs or, even, hypothetically to the World Series Championships once, twice, a few times... is it not worth the associated cost deferred until later even if any hindrance to the corporate owner should arise?

I am not saying we should sign him unless the final price is viable to the terms of Rogers' budget (and it should be!) but many of the arguments against his signing seem premised on unsupported assumptions and the very logic of perpetuated mediocrity.  As per my post on Santos, though, this trade benefits from a prompter playoff push and, if we are going to go for it, AA needs to do something and a few stars must rise from somewhere!

Is Santos a Saviour?

I admit, I am as big an Alex Anthopolous fan as the next guy, but I haven't quite drunk the 'Sergio-Santos-will-be-our-saviour' kool-aid.  Sure, I am glad he's controllable and anxious to see how he develops as a pitcher, but let's assess the trade for a moment.

Pros:
1) Needed a 'closer' (or at least bullpen help)
2) He's ML ready unlike Molina (possibly)
3) He's controllable

Let's consider the following, though.  Yes, we needed controllable bullpen help, without giving up 'too much,' and the question is, what is 'too much.'  While I don't have the numbers in front of me for the controllable years (nor can I predict the arbitration values Molina might get later) is Santos not less controllable (in terms of cost) than a guy who has yet to tick his ML clock?  That is, it is like the Jays signed a 28-year-old to Santos' 'controllable' (and yes, FAIRLY affordable) contract as well as trading Molina for him, since Molina would have been even more controllable and cheaper for those years.  That strikes me as a dual price.  That must be added into the assessment.

Further, what is the difference between the two?  I am no scout, and I have not seen Molina pitch, but we were told throughout the season of his two excellent, major-league-quality/ready pitches by the Jays' announcers and brass with more pitches developing.  Santos, we are also told, has two ML pitches.  Thus, that difference seems negligible or perhaps weighted towards Molina since he has greater likelihood of developing more quality pitches.

On quality, we can move on to strike throwing.  Both guys miss bats, but Santos misses the zone far too often for what is typically a repeatable success rate, whereas Molina hits it so often he ranks in literally elite company for both BB/9 and K:BB ratio.

Next, Molina is currently a starter (though, yes, some scouts say he might be ML reliever material), whereas Santos will never be and starters have more value.  Yes, Molina could end up the same but might end up with greater value and has greater upside.

So basically, the argument that Santos is affordably controllable is voided by the fact that Molina is more affordable and controllable, Molina has MUCH better control and (while admittedly at AA though at a young age) similar K rates, Molina has purportedly two roughly equal pitches, has greater upside in terms of positional value and pitch effectiveness and, we are told, could be playing in the ML in 2012 (though will be a late call-up probably and a work in progress).

I see one unmitigated plus for Santos there: readiness.  If that is Anthopolous' criteria for this trade, I expect to see a push to win in 2012, else I am willing to bet we regret this trade in retrospect.

Tell me if/where I am wrong... I want to believe!