Stopped at Elsinore, overlooking empty ballpark. Sipping coffee, chewing on Posnanski’s advice to stay humble as a writer…
Don’t preconceive. Don’t hesitate to ask questions that might make you look dumb. Don’t linger too long in your comfort zone.
Bearing this in mind, I ask a question: “With one quarter of the season behind us, what has surprised you most about the 2011 Padres?”
The responses are varied: sloppy defense, Mat Latos’ struggles, Brad Hawpe’s inconsistency, team’s poor play at home…
* * *
The defense troubles me. I am told that the numbers aren’t bad, that there are metrics showing the Padres’ fielding hasn’t changed much from last year. Those numbers haven’t watched Chase Headley bounce throws to first, Hawpe fail to corral said throws, or Eric Patterson look surprised by baseballs headed his way at multiple positions.
Anecdotal evidence may be anecdotal, but it’s still evidence. And even some of the numbers indicate that all may not be well. It is unhip to cite fielding percentage, but the fact that the Padres’ is lower than all but the two teams in Texas disturbs me. At some point, you need to convert batted balls into outs.
Unearned runs? Not a fan:
Year R ER UER UER% 2009 769 704 65 8.5 2010 581 549 32 5.5 2011 178 153 25 14.0
This makes me sound old, which I am. Chronic condition, getting worse every day. No cure.
Latos’ struggles could be related to last year’s workload, which thanks to the Padres’ refusal to bow out of the NL West race until the season’s final day was heavier than planned. His struggles also could be a part of the process that gets him from “dominant for three months at a time” to bona fide ace. Two steps forward, one step back.
We don’t know, won’t know, can’t know until later. The damning thing about the future is that it hasn’t happened yet, which is also its charm.
* * *
Burgers at Barstow… The once thriving outlet mall is gasping its final breaths, clinging to the desperate hope of life on the outskirts of nowhere. Beyond the mall, street signs line the main road, marking dirt paths on a grid that someone once imagined would contain more than dirt paths. The paths are as enigmatic and pointless as Patterson’s in the outfield.
If you look hard enough, you begin to see metaphors for abandoned hope in everything. Paradoxically, this renews hope. We are all in a perpetual state of decay. This is our common link. But hey, the burgers are delicious.
I think about Hawpe a lot these days. It’s an obsession that borders on unhealthy, but I admire the quiet dignity with which he handled this season’s horrendous start even as he worked to improve. Reminiscent of Kevin Kouzmanoff’s demeanor in 2007.
Quiet dignity. That is an underrated skill.
I enjoy watching Hawpe’s offensive numbers climb (.244/.300/.353 at last check — late model David Eckstein), although I wonder how long he can sustain appreciable success with his current approach. The numbers look better than they did a few weeks ago, but they can’t tell that he still fouls good fastballs — assuming he hits them at all — off to the left.
I am reminded that much of Hawpe’s surge has come while playing in hitter-friendly ballparks. The game-winning homer he launched last week at Coors Field, which has been kind to Hawpe and almost every other hitter on the planet, came on a misplaced changeup. Catch too much plate with slow stuff and he’ll hammer it. As battle cries go, that’s not the most inspiring one I’ve heard.
Is Hawpe’s resurgence legitimate or, as Jason Collette suggests, is it merely a “dead-cat bounce”? We can’t know until later, but I watch the swing and have concerns.
I pull for Hawpe despite my understanding that he is a stopgap solution, a replaceable part. There’s another chronic condition, another common link. We are all stopgap solutions, replaceable parts. But what else is there to do?
* * *
A light drizzle falls just south of Baker, home to one freakishly tall thermometer. I can’t make out the temperature from here, but car says 74 F, which is merciful for this area.
One time, about 20 years ago, I stopped in Baker for gas. Paid by credit card. Attendant asked if I was related to Clyde Young or some such. “Sorry,” I said, knowing that Young is one of the most common surnames on the planet. He shrugged his shoulders and sent me on my way. What else is there to do?
The drizzle subsides, yielding to giant cumulus clouds that cast island-sized shadows across the desert floor. How do we know when we are past our prime, when it is time for us to be replaced? We have slumped before and recovered, why not now? We can’t know until later, but the threat looms like clouds across a dream. We shrug our shoulders and go on our way. If our swing is too slow, we will find out soon enough.
* * *
Listening to Greg Laswell croon, “Climb into my dreams and leave nothing.” The Padres’ struggles at home trouble me. Who among us hasn’t struggled at home?
We arrive at Vegas in time for dinner. I pause near the sports book to watch the Padres for a moment. Dustin Moseley holds a 2-1 lead in the sixth inning. Patterson and Chris Denorfia start taking creative but enigmatic paths to fly balls. Outfielders are judged by their ability to track and catch baseballs, not the creativity of their paths. Soon the Padres are losing again at home. I shrug my shoulders and go on my way. Patterson is replaceable. So is Denorfia. So am I.
* * *
The Diamondbacks have recalled Sean Burroughs from Triple-A. The Padres’ former first-round pick has been out of baseball since 2007 and now is here again. The world is a funny place, but it’s all we have.
The defense will improve. Orlando Hudson will regain health and spare us from having to watch Patterson at second base. Cameron Maybin (whose performance Ken Funck calls a legitimate breakthrough) will do the same and spare us from having to watch Patterson in center field.
Headley will stop bouncing throws. Hawpe will discover how to pick balls out of the dirt. And if not, at least the burgers were delicious.