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It is time to shake off some rust on my cerebral membrane and do a little statistical analysis of the Cleveland Indians’ newest starting pitcher, Sir Ubaldo Jimenez.

Much has been made Jimenez’s drop in performance and velocity this season, but his K/9 has remained pretty consistent with his career high and better than his career average:

Career high (2010): 8.69
This year: 8.63
Career: 8.18

Despite that K rate this season, Jimenez’s ERA rose to 4.46 with the Rockies this year. However, ERA is a team dependent stat; the defense behind a pitcher can greatly affect an ERA. This season, Jimenez’s Fielding Independent ERA (FIP) is 3.54. His xFIP (which adjusts for expected HR/Fly ball) is 3.56, the best in his career. This strongly suggests that the defense behind him let him down greatly this year, or he was a victim of bad luck. Unfortunately, despite what the announcers on STO say, the Indians are a bad defensive team, although they improved by shitcanning Cabrera, Buck, etc. Still, a drop in velocity isn’t something that can be waved away, even if the K rates remain high.

Another thing that stands out is Jimenez’s LOB% percentage (strand rate) of 66%. Starting pitchers with very high LOB% (80+%) almost always have unsustainable strand rates. Starting pitchers with very low LOB% (65% and below) have stand rates that usually increase to about 69%-74%, thus improving their ERA. Jimenez is right on the cusp, so the Indians’ bullpen could assist Jimenez’s strand rate. The fly in this ointment is that Jimenez only had two bequeathed runners score this season, so the runs scored were his doing. However, Rockies’ manager Jim Tracy is a well documented moron, so there is a very good chance that Tracy did not use his pen effectively in bailing out Jimenez.

Jimenez also received poor run support while he was in the game (3.8/27 outs while he was in the game). Perhaps he felt he had to be perfect, which led to nibbling around the strike zone, which would explain his command problems early in the season. Unfortunately, the poor run support is not likely to change with the Indians.

The other thing that should be looked at is what impact Jimenez will have on the Indians’ playoff chances this year. Jimenez immediately removes one of the Indians’ starting implosions, but he is only going to make about ten or eleven starts for the Indians this season. Even if he returns to his career highs this year, that is only going to prove the Indians with about four more quality starts than what they would receive the replaced gas can. Plus, a quality start is certainly no guarantee of a victory with the Indians anemic offense.

Most of Jimenez’s value for the Tribe will come after this year. Whether he can propel the Indians into the playoffs this year remains to be seen. The Indians aren’t going anywhere unless the offense improves, and Antonetti’s Savior, Fukudome, didn’t really address that.

The Cleveland Indians current promotional campaign is to show highlights of the current season, most from April and May, asking “What If” those highlight hadn’t happened. This campaign is the sick bastard child of the earlier campaign that asked “What If?” a series of highlights throughout Indians history had never happened. The premise of the new campaign is that this is a magical season, and we the fans should be a part of it. Pretty heady stuff for a team one game above .500.

A more telling “What If?” campaign with the appropriate video would be as follows:

What if the Indians had been able to draft and develop any sort of major league positional player talent over the past decade? Ben Francisco waving from the clubhouse shitter would suffice as the video.

What if Manny Acta hadn’t been seduced by veteran presence and batted Orlando Cabrera too high in the order all season long? A smattering of Cabrera 261 outs in a Tribe uniform could grace the screen (Cabrera only needed seven pitches to go hitless in three plate appearances in his Giants’ debut today).

What if Chris Antonetti had supplied this team with a bench? A still shot of Austin Kearns’ ears would be the only video needed.

What if the Cleveland Indians starters not named Justin Masterson weren’t gas cans? Footage from Pearl Harbor would be appropriate.

What if Alex White hadn’t hurt his finger? Pete Rose flattening Ray Fosse would work as the video.

What if Brandon Phillips hadn’t pissed in Eric Wedge’s Corn Flakes? A Phillips home run trot in Red’s uniform video.

What if the evil spirit of Ryan Garko had not possessed Matt LaPorta’s body? Linda Blair video.

On another note, I have been receiving furious texts from Dodgers’ fans moaning about Trayvon Robinson being moved, as if he were the next superstar because of his AAA numbers this season. I say look at the 43 unintentional walks and 122 Ks thi syear. The guy has struck out 697 times in 668 minor league games while only walking 267 times. Guys like that get almost always carved up in the majors, and Robinson’s plate discipline is getting worse, not better. John Sickels of Minorleagueball.com wrote of Robinson, “He’ll take walks and knows how to work a count, but scouts say he sometimes sells out his hitting approach for power, which has worked in Triple-A but might cause problems once major league pitchers see him a few times.”

In other words, he was the Andy Marte of Albuquerque. That being said, the Dodgers didn’t much in return for him. Juan Rodriguez is the only one with bona fide major league talent, and he is a reliever.

Chris Antonetti flashed the future his bare ass today, trading Alex White, Drew Pomeranz, Matt McBride, and Joe Gardner to the Colorado Rockies for Ubaldo Jimenez. Gardner, a AA pitching train wreck, will be selling tires soon, and while McBride (AAA) has some upside, at 26 there isn’t much sand in his hour glass. White and Pomeranz are a much different story; they are blue chip pitching prospects — the stuff aces from which aces can emerge.

“I dropped some acid to relieve the trade deadline pressure, and when I was peaking, the Deion Sanders fairy in the DirecTV starting talking to me,” confessed a haggard Antonetti after the Indians dramatic victory. “He said, ‘Chris, I look like a damn fool, but the money is right. I seized the moment, as well should you. Plus, you need a nickname. Make the deal, and you will have one. Forget about White and Pomeranz; they probably won’t develop in your organization because you guys are incompetent. Remember Jeremy Sowers?”

Jimenez has a very club friendly contract, so he will be with the Indians through at least 2013, unless the Indians are out of the race this time next year. “If we stink next year, I will still have trade bait, even though I cleaned out the system this year,” bubbled Antonetti. “What more could a GM ask for? When asked about Jimenez’s declining velocity this season, Antonetti shouted, “What? I never heard of that! Shit! I need to make some calls to undo this mess.”

As the trade was hitting the internet, the Tribe’s new savior, Fukudome, hit a deep sacrifice fly in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game, then Matt “Redemption” LaPorta hit a game winning home run that ensured a great many people in Cleveland will be happy drunks tonight.

Kosuke Fukudome, the chosen savior of Indian’s GM Chris Antonetti, had a bad inaugural game with the Tribe, going 0-4 while stranding runners with every plate appearance. “I will get better,” said Fukudome through an interpreter. “I will adjust to the smell of industrial ruin that permeates this city, plus the runners on base confused me. That didn’t happen very much in Chicago, where I hit .311/.516/.467 with RISP this year. However, I only had 66 plate appearance with RISP and was walked 21 times. I only had 103 plate apperance with any runners on (228th in the majors) and was walked 28 times.

I understand that unlike Chicago, this city does not tolerate losers. However, I must ask,’Is my new manager touched?’ I don’t have much power, but he put me in the six spot last night. I have a much better OBP than Michael Brantley, who batted leadoff. .374 is a much larger number than .329. Did my new manager not take math in school? And why did the worst hitter on the team bat fifth? Why did our pitcher throw at that guy’s head? American League is so crazy!”

Despite the thrashing and Fukudome’s poor performance, Chris Antonetti was upbeat after the game. “Jesus H. Christ didn’t make it to Calvary without a few missteps. What if everyone would have given up on him at the Third Station of the Cross? I suppose Easter services wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass, but greatness would never had been achieved. Stay the course, people; Scripture is on our side!”

The Travis Buck era ended in Cleveland today as he was designated for assignment. This bold move means immediate addition through subtraction as Buck was an absolutely atrocious hitter, hitting .228/.275/.342, which is still better than Orlando Cabrera .589 OPS, but Cabrera is willing to massage manager Manny Acta’s feet after games, so he is indispensable. “Your feet are your foundation, which is why I have such nice shoes,” said GM Chris Antonetti. “We can’t have a manager with sore feet. We learned that with Eric Wedge, who was too proud to let a man touch his feet, even Casey Blake. He’d get all Pulp Fiction even we even suggested someone rub his feet. Our bullpen’s success is largely a function of Orlando rubbing Manny’s feet. Manny’s head is right late in the game because his feet feel good.”

The Indians cut ties with Buck to make room for Kosuke Fukudome, who the Indians acquired for minor league fodder Abner Abreu and Carlton Smith. Abreu strikes out so much that even Adam Dunn and Mark Reynolds would get queasy if they saw his totals, plus he walks as much as Gary Disarcina because he thinks all breaking balls have to end up in the strike zone at one point. Smith is a pitcher who only struck out 5.8 batters per nine innings pitched, although he somehow a striking out nine per nine IP this season in AAA. In other words, the Cubs gave Fukudome to the Tribe, especially since they are eating most of his salary.

“Fukudome doesn’t make too many outs,” said Antonetti, “which is important to our concession sales. Our game have been ending too fast because most of our hitters are only adept at getting back to the dugout quickly. We are projecting a 7.3453% increase in beer sales and a 9.1435% increase in hot dog sales with Fukudome’s ability to prolong the game. We can use those increased revenues to pay for the bonus of another draft bust next year, so he helps us short term and long term. I love making those type of trades!”

After the Cleveland Indians Tuesday’s night 2-1 loss to the Los Angeles Angels, GM Chris Antonetti was seen leaving his office with a power drill. “We hit the iceberg, said the somber general manager. “The SS Tribe is sinking fast, and I need to bolt things down. No one will be able to accuse me of just rearranging the deck chairs!” When asked if that meant he was backing off his statement that the Indians would be buyers, not sellers as the trade deadline nears.

“Look, I tried to make trades, but there is nobody in the organization anybody really wants. That is what happens when your entire organization is bereft of talent except for an overpaid DH and shortstop that I refuse to trade. Teams are even leery of Drew Pomeranz because he has pitched over ninety innings with this club, more than enough time to be cursed. That damn video of Scott Barnes screwing up his knee is all over the internet, and teams are afraid, as well they should be. We are developing a bunch of relievers though. Too bad we can’t have a thirty-five man roster.”

The Indians had a very good chance of winning when they loaded the bases with no outs in the ninth as Angels’ closer Jordan Walden continued his “Troy Percival vs. the Indians” imitation (Percival was 1-9 in his career against the Tribe). However, Matt LaPorta, who had homered earlier in the game, had the worst plate appearance in the history of organized baseball, grounding into a 4-2-3 double play on a 3-2 pitch. A lobotomized three toed sloth with a bum limb outraced him to first base.

After the game, LaPorta asked, “What do you mean I am supposed to try to run fast in that situation? It is a 162 game season; I need to pace myself.”

Yogi Berra caught both ends of 117 double headers. I bet Berra wanted to kick Ernie Banks’ ass, ninja style.

I’ve had many a baseball argument over the orientation of baseball stadiums. I wish I would have had this, courtesy of flipflopflying.com Click the link so you don’t have to squint.

I would have saved myself a great deal of time arguing with fools. I could have used that time to illustrate disprove the myth that Styx was just another REO Speedwagon. This has old stadium orientation info, but no cool graphs.

Now please excuse me as I have to illustrate to an old high school friend that the Big Red Machine wasn’t the only dominant team in the 1970’s.

The Cleveland Indians quit winning this past weekend, approximately two weeks after former skipper Eric Wedge’s new club did. Poor, poor Eric Wedge. He shaved his glorious facial hair in hopes of breaking the Mariners’ two week losing streak. How will he ever regain Casey Blake’s affection (or get a guest spot on Game of Thrones) as a clean shaven man?

At this point, following the Indians is like hanging out with your one high school friend who never forsake the band Night Ranger. You show up at his house for a barbecue, and he offers you a Natural Light, then proceeds to tell you that he has finally figured out what Kelly Keagy meant he penned “You’re motoring.” Your pal gives you a slightly different version than he told you the last time you were there, and then tells you Man in Motion is starting to grow on him, and that you should give it another listen.

At this point, you snap, “That album came out twenty-three years ago, and was a piece of shit then. It hasn’t improved with age. I’m not listening to the damn thing! Besides, they died with Big Life anyway.” He then pouts and you feel bad, so you tell him to put on Seven Wishes, and suddenly you are on Sentimental Street, taking a good hard look at ain’t nothing new. You wonder why you keep coming over this guy’s house when you have so many other friends who listen to good music and don’t drink piss water.

As if on cue, your buddy starts talking about Natural Light. “It isn’t one of those pussy beers that you put a fruit in. It’s the type of beer that commands you to drink twenty of. Those candy ass microbrews only tell you to drink two or three, then you are done for the night. Not so with the N-L. You can drink it all night long, and still get it up for the old lady.” You reach for another, knowing it is going to be a long night. Still, you stay because it is the only thing going on.

The first suspect arrested, Giovanni Ramirez, in the Bryan Stow beating appears to have been exonerated in the attack. Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, the self proclaimed savior of Carmageddon, certainly soiled his pants. I’m not a lawyer, although I once led a commando raid on a Holiday Inn Express pool, but I do not think this can be good for the city of Los Angeles and the LAPD. Not much has been released on the new arrests, but I am sure it will play out like a George R.R. Martin plot, sans the amusing dwarf.

There is a video of a cute, little pissed off kid at a Giants’ game showing his displeasure at not getting a foul ball circulating the interwebs now. Someone in the Giants’ organization sent the kid a ball during the game, which is great PR move, but has to break an unwritten rule — one must earn a ball at the game.

I have some stories about my kids getting balls at games. The oldest, now in college, used to get them all the time before her brother and sister came along — from the minors on up, usually in batting practice. Once in Oakland (April 2000), Jaret Wright singled her out among a group of kids and gave her a ball during BP because (I assume) she was wearing Indians gear. The next night, during BP, she had him sign it. The next day, Wright was scheduled to start, and our seats were by the Indians’ dugout. As he was trotting from the pen to start the game, he looked up, saw her, and winked. He then pitched a complete game shutout. Not long after that, his arm fell off.

When she was five, the middle child once spent about three innings at a minor league game in San Bernardino begging the bullpen to give her a ball — to no avail. Near the end of the game, a Dominican pitcher started warming up in the eighth. After some prompting from her uncle, she started putting a curse on the pitcher in Spanish (all my kids are bilingual), using wild gesticulations. The poor pitcher, who wasn’t that good, saw this little white girl with wild, curly hair going all voodoo on him and kind of freaked, causing his mates in the pen to laugh. He entered the game and mowed down the side. After the inning, the guys left in the pen tossed her a ball.

Later in the same game, my son, who was three at the time, decided he wanted a ball because his sister had been given one. His luck was no good, so he took matters in his own hands. While we were packing up to leave, he slipped through the gate from the stands to the pen and went for a ball in the ball bag. About a 1000 people were lined up in the concourse for a post game promotion (women had been given a small shovel to dig in the infield for a buried diamond ring) and let out a roar when they saw him. I turned and saw my son with a ball in the hand and a look on his face that he knew he was busted. I scrambled to get him as a couple of laughing security guards moved towards him. He darted onto the field and tried to bowl over one of the security guards and bounced to the ground, which brought laughter from the fans and earned me a stern glare from my wife. I got him, and we walked out with no ball in his hands. However, in the parking lot, he reached down his pants and pulled out his prize. “Ball Daddy!” he shouted.