Chicago Cubs in Music: Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry

Because I don't know that words will convey my current feelings on the Cubs quite precisely enough (I mean, the pre-Spring-Training pangs are so nebulous, so elusive, so coincidental to the ebb and flow of blogger lethargy), I'll be relying on the power of music to get the point across. First up, fittingly I suppose, Chicago.

Cubs Lose on Octuple Play

Official score on that play: 4-6-6-3-6-6-2-5-2

In what has to be the crowning achievement in the franchise's legacy of fail, the Cubs dropped the final game in the four-game sweep at the hands of the Padres by grounding into a game-ending octuple play in the 7th inning. Cubs manager Lou Piniella was flummoxed.

"Look, I've been around a long time in baseball, and I've never seen anything like this. I don't know what to say to these guys, I really don't," said the weary manager who was ejected and called out two thirds of the way through the play.

With the bases loaded and one out, Cubs second baseman Blake DeWitt hit a soft line drive that skipped in the dirt just before his Padres counterpart Jerry Hairston Jr. caught it. He flipped to short to retire Jeff Baker at second, but Tyler Colvin, who thought the line drive would be caught, was tagged out returning to second as well. The return throw beat DeWitt to first for the seemingly unnecessary fourth out of the inning, the third of what turned out to be eight on the play.

Farewell to Theriot Caption Contest - UPDATE: We Have a Winner

Geo: We just suck.
Theriot: Yeah, but I'm awesome at everything.

Congratulations to Sue the Quiet Riot on her winning caption. In addition to honor, glory, and praise (and, by the way, Riot says, "Hi"), Sue also receives this hair-metal video dedication courtesy of Whitesnake. Yeah, that's right, pay dirt. Thanks to everyone who submitted captions through facebook, twitter, and the comments section. Better luck next time, when something like this could be yours:



If you're a fan of like And Counting on Facebook, you're already aware that there's a caption contest currently underway to come up with the best (as judged by me) caption for the photo of Geovany Soto and the now dearly departed (and herein depicted) Ryan Theriot. The winner will receive glory, honor, praise, and a lifetime subscription to this blog. I'll also mention you by name the next time I talk directly to The Riot.

There are already several entries, so you've got your work cut out for you:

The Economics of the Cubs Dodgers Deal

If the buzz leading up to the trade that sent Ted Lilly, Ryan Theriot, and cash to the Dodgers for Wallach, Smit, and DeWitt, the primary snag prolonging the negotiations was the matter of just how much if any cash should be smuggled along with Lilly's things. The number everyone was throwing around was $4 million. Ignoring the talent of the various pieces being swapped, I wanted to look at how much the Cubs are saving by making this deal.

I don't know how anyone ascertains exactly how much is left on a player's deal, but looking at the regular season alone, the Cubs had about 36% of their games left to play. I know that's not perfect, but it's close enough for me: it would leave Lilly with $4.37 million remaining on his contract and Theriot with $947 thousand (MLB Trade Rumors put them at $4.24 million and $918K). Like I said, it's not perfect, but I'm okay with that margin of error for the sake of argument.

Lilly and Theriot to Become Dodgers, Cubs get Blake DeWhatnow?

UPDATE II: It's Kyle Smit, not Smith and Brett Wallach, not Walch. I interpreted Smit's name as an abbreviation and Walch as the entire name . . . got those two mixed up.

UPDATE: Jayson Stark is saying the Cubs will, along with Blake DeWitt, receive minor leaguers Brett Walch & Kyle Smith, and the Cubs will pay $2.5 million of Lilly's remaining $4 million in salary. I feel it's my duty to pretend to care, and I'll update when I muster up enough feigned emotion to do so.

About a million people are tweeting that the Cubs and Dodgers have completed a deal sending Lilly and Theriot to LA in exchange for infielder Blake DeWitt and prospects. I'll update when it becomes officially official.

Swing Away, Ryan

Yes, Ryan Theriot swung at this pitch.

If I were to rank the complaints of Cubs fans this year on a scale of frequency and intensity of the rants, Ryan Theriot's approach at the plate would probably rank somewhere around the 4th spot in between Zambrano's tumult and John Grabow's existence. Honestly, the objections of this fan base are so voluminous and varied, ranking them would be almost as difficult as addressing them.

Ordered lists of grievances aside, we can all agree that Ryan Theriot's concept of patience has forced Cub fans to lose theirs. He swings at the ceremonial first pitch. He swings at bean balls. When the visiting team hits a home run, his biggest regret is not having a bat to swing when the bleacher bums throw the ball back. There's no question what the perception is: Theriot loves to swing at the first pitch. I guess my only remaining questions are, Does he? and Should he?

Does Ryan Theriot love to swing at the first pitch?
First of all, I think what really bothers everyone (justifiably or not) isn't that Theriot swings at the first pitch so much as that he puts the first pitch in play. You can see from Theriot's plate discipline numbers that he swings at a smaller percentage of pitches out of the strike zone than the rest of the league, so it's not a matter of Theriot swinging at bad pitches. So if he swings at a strike on the first pitch without putting it in play, the act of swinging really has no effect whatsoever other than maybe giving Theriot a better sense of timing. When Theriot swings, though, he makes contact 90.3% of the time (the 13th highest contact rate in the majors), so I really don't think people are complaining about his first-pitch whiffs so much as his short at-bats.

So let's just look at the plate appearances in which Theriot puts the first pitch into play, a pretty frequent occurrence. In 2010, just over 18% of Theriot's PAs have lasted exactly one pitch. League average is about 11%. For his career, almost 16% of Riot's plate appearances are one-pitch affairs, so he has definitely earned the reputation for hitting the first pitch more than the average player (and definitely more than the prototypical leadoff hitter). This year he's been even more slap-happy than normal, but not much. A 2% increase represents about 14 PAs per season, and I highly doubt anyone has noticed that Theriot is hitting the first pitch an additional eight one-hundredths of a plate appearance per game.

That being said, yes, Ryan Theriot does seem to love that first pitch. Is that so wrong?


Should Ryan Theriot love to swing at the first pitch?
There are those who would say no regardless of evidence to the contrary. Since Theriot has been semi-regularly batting in the leadoff position, the unwritten (but oft spoken) rule dictates that he should take as many pitches as possible. It's his job, I'm told, to work the count and get on base as often as possible. And in those cases when the pitcher just made the second out, he is required by law to take at least two strikes and foul off at least three pitches if necessary to give the pitcher at least a five-pitch time span in which to rest.

Forgive me for challenging the conventional wisdom, but I do think his main job is to reach base as frequently as possible and to advance as far along the basepaths as he can. I'd prefer to use wOBA, but without the split information for that particular stat I'll look at OPS first. If Theriot's on-base plus slugging numbers are better when swinging at the first pitch than in other situations, wouldn't it be advisable (or at the very least forgivable) for him to continue in his relative impatience?

Well guess what: they are. For his career, Theriot's AVG/OBP/SLG line is .349/.351/.453 when he hits (or gets hit by) the first pitch he sees, putting his 1st-pitch OPS at .803 (it's .807 this year, so let's just stick with the career numbers for better sample size). Now let's look at those numbers in plate appearances he allows to go more than one pitch. After the count reaches 1-0, Theriot's line is .287/.406/.387. Yes, his OBP goes up significantly, but his slugging plummets as well, yielding an OPS of .793. Keep in mind, that's throughout Theriot's career on all PAs that start with him taking a pitch and getting ahead in the count.

The difference is extremely slight, but Theriot's ability to inflict damage on the opposition has been better when he hits the first pitch than when he gains the 1-0 advantage. What about after a first pitch strike? .266/.306/.309 with a .615 OPS. If  you'd rather see Theriot take that first pitch for a strike, you must really put a lot of stock into the benefit of "showing his teammates what the pitcher has to offer," because the difference between hitting and taking that first strike is pretty damaging to Theriot's chances.

All told, here's Theriot's career line in plate appearances that last longer than one pitch: .275/.352/.343 (.695 OPS). Here's the net difference in his line when a Ryan Theriot PA goes beyond the one-pitch mark: -.074/+.001/-.110. So, yeah, when Theriot lets an at-bat go any longer than the minimum, he actually decreases his OPS by .109.

Complain about Theriot leading off and I'll agree with you. Demand his trade and I won't bat an eye. But to those clamoring for longer Theriot at-bats, I beg of you to find a new tree up which to bark. Theriot's love affair with pitch 1 is well founded. Don't try to get in between those two. They will very likely both hit you.

In Our Own Image

Even I can run hard out of the box (which would be odd after a strikeout).

They make millions of dollars a year. They get paid those millions to play the game we love. They should consider themselves lucky to be professional baseball players and collect the hard earned money we shell out to watch them play the game we love. The least these players can do is to try their best.

Except, actually, that's not the least they can do—that's the most we could do. If we (and by we, I mean society . . . specifically the non-professional baseball playing segment of it) were to play baseball in the majors, we would absolutely suck. We wouldn't be able to hit. We wouldn't be able to pitch. We wouldn't be able to hit the cutoff man. But we could try really hard. We could run out our ground-outs and pop-ups. We could make smart decisions. We could hustle. We could not admire our non-homers. We could dirty our uniforms. We could be scrappy.

For fans who wish we could play, it's hard to forgive a multimillionaire for failing to do the things we know we could do or for making the mistakes we know we could avoid. So when Alfonso Soriano or Aramis Ramirez don't sprint out of the batter's box or when Ryan Theriot gets TOOTBLAN'd or when Lou decides John Grabow should pitch in a game we think the Cubs have a chance to win, we self-respecting Cub fans get a bit angry. I've been trying to figure out the reason behind the outrage, and the conclusion I've come to doesn't reflect on us all too well.

Nothing to See Here. So Let's Do the Wave!

On Saturday, the wave broke out at Wrigley Field. This punky, spray-tanned castoff from the set of Swingers (not Vince Vaughn) served as cheerleader  drum major  douchemaster  moron-in-chief, eliciting a chorus of boos from dozens of onlookers . . . and, you know, the wave from tens of thousands of witless drones.

It's bad enough this happened at Wrigley. Fans do a lot of unforgivable things in Wrigley. They throw peanuts at fans of opposing teams, even if it's the team opposing the Blackhawks later that weekend. They stand on the ramps leading to the upper deck and toss food and water down onto the fans below. They hurl racial epithets at their favorite players. I guess they project quite a few things into the air, but usually they have the good sense not to include a successive parade of their butt-scratching hands in the mix. But here's what made it worse:

All this went down with one out in the eighth inning of a tie ball game with the potential (and eventually the actual) game-tying run at second base. The wave is supposed to be the designated pastime of fans who have become bored with the actual national pastime. But to interrupt the most critical turning point in the game by conjuring the demonic ritual of wavus stupidus maximus takes some serious juevos (and just an extraordinary surplus of dumb). You're telling me there was nothing else to grab the attention of these buffoons?

Allow me to offer up a photodump of evidence to the contrary:

Vince Vaughn set the tone by aiming for the upper deck with his ceremonial first pitch.

2010 Cubs Predictions: They're NOT Gonna Happen

More optimistic than psychic, all hope and no sense, these predictions are guaranteed never to come true. But if even one does, I will brag about it for the rest of my life. Tribune photo by Zbigniew Bzdak (Also posted at LOHO)

This is the last worthless weekend that we'll have to spend. All introductory east-coast-biased Sunday Night Baseball aside (that's right, Yankees and Red Sox, we don't care what happens between the two of you, no matter how much Joe Morgan insists that we must), Monday marks the dawn of the 2010 baseball season. So we're running out of time to make bold  educated  sabermetrically generated half-baked predictions for what the Cubs will be able to accomplish this year.

If the LOHO NCAA Pick 'Em Challenge has taught us anything, it's that my annual tradition of picking Kansas to win it all is guaranteed to go dreadfully wrong every year (except in the occasional instance when I break from tradition and allow them to succeed . . . sorry, Jayhawks). And if it has taught us two things, it's that I suck at predicting things. So here is a list of things I'm utterly confident will not happen, which is precisely why I am prognosticating that they will:

Alfonso Soriano will hit 40 homers. Do you remember last April? Soriano started the season hotter than a Gatorade-machine-bashing tantrum. And then he decided to test his knee reflex on the left-field wall. I'm hoping it was the injury that caused the precipitous production decline and not a failure to renew some Faustian deal with the devil. If I'm wrong (and I usually am) we'll be seeing more of Tyler Colvin in left than anyone is really hoping to get. (Tyler Colvin's mom excluded, of course.) If I'm right, Wrigley could be hosting its fair share of October baseball.

Down with Castro?

Starlin Castro looks like Rudy. That is all.

Pepin le Bref is once again stirring up rumors about players who aren't on the Cubs roster, only this time it's a guy with a solid chance to work his way onto it. Starlin Castro was a non-roster invitee to the Cubs' spring training festivities, but he has looked like a guy you wouldn't mind having on the big-league club.

In 15 plate appearances.

Pepin would have you believe the Cubs brass is conflicted about what to do with the phenom sporting the 1.600 OPS (in 15 PA): start him in AAA or give him a shot on the opening-day roster. As previously reported by his Bref-ness, Lou wouldn't want Starlin to be a bench player; the kid needs to play:

Cubs manager Lou Piniella ended any speculation Sunday that Andres Blanco's knee injury would open up a job for 19-year-old shortstop Starlin Castro. 

...
"No, no," he said. "Starlin is going to start the season in Triple-A (Iowa) and play. The only way Starlin would come into this equation, and I've said this before, is if he shows he's ready to play here and there's a problem physically with Theriot.

"Now, we don't want that. But I'll tell you what, I've been very impressed with Starlin. He's smooth up there, got a nice throwing arm, good hands. He gives you a nice at-bat. But no, we're going to go with Theriot at shortstop, and certainly (Castro) wouldn't be up here backing up under any circumstances. We want this kid to play."

Less than a week after collecting that gem from Lou, le Bref suggests the decision isn't so clear cut, even though Lou hasn't changed one iota of his story:

Manager Lou Piniella continues to insist Ryan Theriot is his shortstop and he's not interested in moving him to second to make room for Castro at short.

Prospects headed to the minors typically get sent to minor league camp midway through Cactus League games. Will the Cubs give Castro a longer look?

"That's going to be up to (general manager) Jim Hendry and (assistant GM Randy Bush)," Piniella said. "Unless the kid is going to start here, their preference in the past has been to send these kids out to get them familiar with where they are going to play."

But few Cubs prospects have performed as well as Castro has early in the games. When he smacked a first-pitch home run to left in the fifth inning, Piniella looked at bench coach Alan Trammell with a wild-eyed grin on his face.

So why manufacture a story that goes against every quote from the people who matter and is supported by nothing but 15 plate appearances and a post-homer smile?

Well, to give Pepi some credit, Castro is an exciting player. He's bigger and faster than Theriot, but he's also a full 10 years younger. Meanwhile, Theriot is having just as much success as Castro this spring (not to mention how ridiculous it is to base any significant decisions on a handful of spring at-bats against a bunch of guys with sub-Silva type stuff . . . oh, crap, I just mentioned it; but it was in parentheses, so it doesn't really count).

But I don't think Piniella, Hendry, or Bush will be making a decision based on Castro's numbers. Frankly, they probably won't be basing that decision on anything other than what they've already said. Their decision is all but made, and if they do change their minds it will be because of what they see of him in person, not on paper. They won't gamble the fate of this season or, more importantly, the future of a could-be superstar, when they're perfectly content with Ryan Theriot at short.

Except that Ryan Theriot isn't really the guy to compare to Castro, because he wouldn't be the one to get bumped out of the lineup. It's the Fontenot/Baker platoon that would get replaced as Castro stepped in at short and Theriot moseyed on to the other side of second base.

That's the question of the moment: would the Cubs rather have a middle infield of Theriot/Bakenot or Castro/Theriot? And would they rather have a batting order featuring Castro's sizzling speed and a font of potential or . . . just Fontebaker? I understand those who think either one of those guys could be solid, but I don't know how often anyone will actually utter the words, "Oh good, Fontenot is up," or "Sweet, it's Baker time!"

Look, I'm excited to see what Starlin Castro can do as the Cubs' everyday shortstop, but I can wait. I'm not setting myself up to become incensed by the impending news of Castro's assignment to AAA Iowa. But I'm certainly not begging the front office to indulge their sense of patience. I think there's a decent chance that Starlin Castro would outperform Theriot in the field, that he'd outperform Bakenot at the plate, and that Theriot would improve the defense at second.

But I also don't know jack, and I trust Lou's judgment. And Jim's. And Randy's. I'm just glad to see Castro pass yet another test on the way to Wrigley.

Random Cubs Facts, Opinions, Fabrications, and Outright Diversions

Firing Jim Hendry is a bad idea.

Jay Leno is not as unfunny as people give him discredit for. He's also not as funny as Conan.

1998 was the best year of my adult life. The home run race was a part (nowhere near all) of that. I wouldn't change a thing.

If the Cubs win the World Series this year by cheating, I will celebrate until I collapse in an unethical heap of exasperation.

If the Cubs win the World Series this year through methods of interrogative torture that cross lines even Jack Bauer wouldn't step over, I would have second thoughts.

I do not endorse cheating, torture, illegal steroid use, or the designated hitter.

Wrigley Field is unique and one of my favorite places in the world. So is the house I grew up in, but I'm glad my parents remodeled.

If Wrigley had a JumboTron that could replay controversial calls, they'd have to stop the game every other inning to rid the playing field of angrily discarded beer cups.

Everyone's at least a little racist.

Ryan Theriot isn't getting any better.

Put an @ before someone's user name to make sure they read your tweet. Use @@ to attack them with a giant 4-legged robot.

Going two-sies in the Wrigley troughs is a breach of etiquette.

The best Cubs-related movie of all time is Die Hard.

Dick Stockton will be the play-by-play guy for every Cubs 1st-round playoff game from now until the end of time.

I looked up the word curse in the dictionary, and I don't see a single definition that doesn't apply to the Cubs.

I love the Cubs, I hate the Cardinals, but to each his or her own.

Former players are entitled to their opinions about steroids, but I expect them to be no more objective than they were when they argued with umpires.

Parking at Wrigley has the exact same cost-to-pain ratio as getting a root canal.

Just once I'd like to catch a foul ball at Wrigley Field.

Alfonso Soriano will be great again.

Carlos Zambrano is the best Cubs pitcher, and he's worth every penny.

The Cubs will win it all in my lifetime.

I am not to be trusted.

Which Chicago Cub Are You? (It's Scarily Accurate)

I hate those Facebook quizzes that make you answer five questions about something as arbitrary as your affinity for or aversion to cured meats and then proceed to tell you which Saved by the Bell character you are. First of all, the questions are always multiple choices, and all of the choices usually stink. Second of all, I am so not Kelly Kapowski.

But I think there's potential in a "Which Chicago Cub Are You?" quiz, because this team is loaded with personalities I recognize from high school, former workplaces, and maybe a family reunion or two. I've probably seen flashes of Milton Bradley in my own mirror . . . partly because I can be moody, too, or perhaps because he's stalking me for making fun of him. Either way, here are some of the possible results. See if any of these people sound familiar outside of Cubdom:

You are Carlos Zambrano. You have loads of potential and unlimited passion for everything you do. You're the life of the party and you love to have fun. But sometimes your passion and intensity get the best of you, causing you to lose focus, lose control, and even lose a few friends. Your friends love you, your enemies fear you, but you have everyone's attention.

You are Milton Bradley. You want nothing more to succeed, and some day that might happen. But you are easily hurt both emotionally and physically. Some people perform better when they're angry; you are not some people. Those close to you regard you as the ultimate team player who is willing to do whatever it takes to win. Those not close to you have good reason. Still, you have plenty of skill just waiting to emerge, and if you're surrounded by people who believe in you, you will be a shining star.

You are Ted Lilly. You generally let your actions speak louder than your words, which is good—saying, "I'm better than you, and you like it," out loud can be rather unbecoming. What you lack in talent you more than make up for with fierce determination and skin as thick as rhino armor. Outside of a Cub uniform or a bar fight, most people wouldn't recognize you in public. You also have a bit of a temper, but you can usually focus that productively. In those moments when you can't, people know better than to get in your way.

You are Derrek Lee. You're a gentle giant, smart, debonair, quick as a fox, and strong as an ox. Not easily ruffled, you measure your words, your responses, and your emotions. You lead not with speeches but by example. You keep things at an even keel, except when you're exploding on a fastball over the plate or pouncing on a screaming line drive headed for the right field corner. Some people wish you'd be more outspoken and demonstrative, but you're big and strong enough not to have to care what some people wish for.

You are Alfonso Soriano. When it comes to performance, you're a human roller coaster, although you never wear your emotions on your sleeve. When you find you're groove, there are none better, but when you get stuck in a rut . . . well, there are few worse. Your preferences and quirks have earned you a reputation as a prima donna, mostly undeserved. It's not your fault if you get preferential treatment, you earned it? Your flair for the dramatic can, unfortunately, fizzle out on occasion. And your easy going style sometimes comes off as lackadaisical. But if you just keep walking softly and carrying a big stick, eventually, people will appreciate your even bigger upside.

You are Ryan Theriot. People don't expect much from you at first, but you thrive on sneaking up on them with your scrappy, fiery approach. You work hard, play hard, laugh hard, and die hard. You try to be blue collar, you really do, but you just can't seem to shed the image of the consensus clubhouse leader. Your biggest weakness just may be a propensity to forget how hard you have to work. Success will never come naturally for you; but when you chase it, it will never outrun you, either.

You are Ryan Dempster. You're a complete goofball, and a scream at parties. But when you're at work, you're all business. Maybe people underestimate you because of your antics, but your professionalism will make short work of any doubters. You thrive on positive vibes and encouragement in a friendly environment, and conversely sometimes falter under intense pressure or adverse conditions. Focus is your best friend; lose it and you will wilt, but maintain it and you will dominate.

You are Lou Piniella. You know perfectly well who you are, and if I try to tell you, you'll shoot a glare at me that says in no uncertain (yet silent) terms, "Shut up or I'll bludgeon you with Santo's prosthetic." Next.

You are Ron Santo. You are 100% emotion. You rise and fall with the performance of those you hold most dear. People thrive on your emotion and sometimes laugh at the pure theater of your reactions. You deserve to be in the Hall of Fame, but this world sucks sometimes.

You are Carlos Marmol. You are equal parts wild, untouchable, breathtaking, and heartstopping. No one can control you . . . even you can't control you. But can you grasp the wind and put it in your pocket? Can you put sunshine in a bottle? Can you tie a rainbow into a knot and tell it, "Stop being colorful"? No. Such is Marmol.

Okay, you get it. I'm not going to go through the entire 40-man roster, front office, and broadcasting booth. Maybe you could help me fill in the blanks. Go ahead, channel your inner Carrie Muskat.

Cubs Stat of the Week: Ryan Theriot on 3-0

Ryan Theriot has never made an out on a 3-0 pitch.

Ever.

When I started looking up an intriguing Cubs stat for this week, I was hoping to find a revelation in Theriot's average with two strikes. His career average in that situation isn't bad (.233) but it's not great this year (.171). And then I stumbled upon something I had never even considered:

You don't want to go to 3-0 on anybody, especially not The Riot. 

In his relatively short career, Theriot has faced a 3-0 count 89 times. And in those 89 career 3-0 counts, Theriot has never made an out on a 3-0 pitch. Actually, he's never even put such a pitch in play. 

That's right. Ryan Theriot has exactly Zero point Zero Zero official at-bats on 3-0 counts. He has had 34 plate appearances decided by a 3-0 pitch, and all 34 have been walks (three of them intentional). I can't exactly say the stat gets better (how can you improve on a 1.000 OBP?) but Theriot's career performance after a 3-0 pitch continues to impress.

In his 89 career plate appearances that began with three straight balls, Theriot has drawn 60 walks. Of the 29 remaining at bats, Theriot has 11 hits, five of them doubles (.379 BA, .552 SLG). But the overwhelming majority of the time (roughly 2/3), when Theriot reaches a 3-0 count, he draws a walk on his way to a .798 OBP after 3-0 counts. 

When Theriot works a 3-ball count of any kind, good things happen. He has a .323 BA, a .631 OBP, and a 1.088 OPS. So how does Theriot compare to the rest of baseball?

In 2009, Major League hitters put almost 5% of 3-0 pitches in play (compared to Theriot's career 0% rate). Here's the general breakdown of Theriot vs. the ML average:

After a 3-0 Count

MLB: .267 BA, .759 OBP, 1.220 OPS

Theriot: .379 BA, .798 OBP, 1.349 OPS

With Three Balls, Any Number of Strikes

MLB: .259 BA, .593 OBP, 1.029 OPS

Theriot:  .323 BA, .631 OBP, 1.088 OPS

This definitely reinforces my opinion that Theriot uses the count to his advantage as well as just about anybody in the game. He just has an impeccable sense of modifying his approach as his at-bats go along. That's why I love watching Theriot at the plate, because he is a textbook example of how to approach each pitch.

Long story short: throw strikes to The Riot, or he'll make you pay.

Stats courtesy of baseball-reference.com.