Edwin Jackson. Rumor has it, we’re looking at him over Roy Oswalt. Which, you know, could answer the question, WHY THE FRICK HAVEN’T WE SIGNED ROY OSWALT?
So- is Jackson worth the Scut monies?
Like in all things, we turn to our trusty friend for the answers.
Edwin Jackson, Wiki says, was born in Germany. Okay. But he’s an American professional baseball player. His father was a German army cook, see. Okay. In 2011, he was both a White Sox and a Cardinal. Mmm-K. He threw a no-hitter in 2010.
There was a time when Jackson was regarded as one of the premiere pitching prospects in baseball (after posting sub-4.00 ERAs in AA and the majors at age 19 in 2003), but poor showings in AAA and MLB after that season ended his status as a “can’t-miss” prospect. He made his major league debut on September 9, 2003, his 20th birthday. In that game, he pitched 6 innings, giving up just one run and out-pitched Cy Young Award winner Randy Johnson to earn his first career major league victory.
He tied with James Shields to lead Tampa to 14 victories in 2008
Jackson is one of a minority of MLB starting pitchers who relies almost exclusively on two pitches, a mid-90’s fastball and an effective power slider..
No interesting personal info, wikipedia? None at all? How are we supposed to make a judgment on numbers alone?!
On July 29, 2011, Edwin Jackson pitched his first game as a Cardinal and threw 7 strong innings, leading St. Louis to a blowout win over their rivals the Chicago Cubs.
Uh oh, guys. He’s another Scott Boras. WE DON’T HAVE 214 MILLION DOLLARS! It’s okay. Breathe, Lauren. Breathe. Sometimes Scott Boras makes mega-fails. Like with Ryan Madson.
What do our friends at Over the Monster have to say?
Jackson isn’t as good as Roy Oswalt, and maybe not as good as Gavin Floyd, but at this stage, he likely would be cheaper than either: Oswalt is reportedly looking for around $8 million per year, and Floyd, while inexpensive monetarily in terms of the luxury tax, will cost the team in prospects. At the least, he is durable, averaging 208 innings per year over the last three years, and 202 over the last four, and his ERA+ since he left Tampa Bay is an above-average 108.
How about the Globe’s Peter Abraham?
For a guy who has been traded six times, the 28-year-old Jackson has pretty good numbers (a fWAR of 11.2 the last three seasons) and is a decent bet to produce a good season. But he’s also a Scott Boras client.
And the folks at Bleacher Report say Jackson is vital to “keep the Cardinals on top.”
Jackson might be a good fit… but what happened to Oswalt?
What are your thoughts, nation? Are we bargain-binning- or is this move something we can brag about on our facebook statuses?
The quest for a new Nomahhhhhh-
It’s dominating the painnnnnnfffulllllyyyyyy boring headlines (if you can call them that) of Sox nation today, as we mourn the passing of Scutaro and quirk our confuzzled eyes at our roster. Seriously. Boston short stop=Spinal Tap drummer.
The kryptonite Nomar Garciaparra left behind when he was traded in mid-2004 has lost none of its potency in 71⁄2 years. Saturday night’s trade of shortstop Marco Scutaro to the Colorado Rockies for $6 million in salary relief — and, don’t forget, pitcher Clayton Mortensen — once again put the spotlight on the Sox’ curiously consistent inability to groom Nomar’s heir.
Other than giving the Herald’s Michael Silverman‘s inner child the chance to use words like “kryptonite,” not much is new.
That’s kind of the story of this off season: Nothing new, folks. Enjoy the cheese plate.
Nick Punto and Mike Aviles are going to tag team shortstop. So. Um. Apparently it takes two to make one Nomar. I hope it’s like those two guys in the Mighty Ducks. Remember the bash brothers? But with less time in the penalty box? Maybe it will be like Batman and Robin. I kind of think Mike is going to be Robin. I’d like to make a Captain Planet reference here, but I’m just not up to it today.
Does it really take TWO players to equal Marco Scutaro? I mean… I dig the Scut, really I do… but the math is fuzzy for me. Is it fuzzy for you? I get the why. Really, I do. But I still don’t understand the math. I don’t understand why we couldn’t unlock Lackey. Or Dice-K. Or a plethora of other money sucking black holes. And I really, really, really don’t understand why we care about luxury taxes. Or taxes in general. Aren’t our wallets supposed to be endless? Maybe you could sell your yacht, John Henry.
Speaking of strange purchases, Detroit wants Johnny Damon. And Roy Oswalt (who, undoubtedly, they will buy. I have no faith in Sox’s shopping department right now). Fascinating.
In other news, Josh Beckett is listed as the #25 “biggest hothead” in sports. Well. He is pretty hot. I don’t think his hotness is confined to his head…
Newly acquired Vicente Padilla (oh goody) is also on the list- number 19.
Red Sox pitcher Vicente Padilla never met a batter he didn’t want to hit with a baseball; he’s pegged an impressive 106 batters in his career so far.
Vicente, do you take requests?
He also apparently shot himself- accidentally- in 2009. Oh, goody.
A nasty temper and a deadly weapon are an excellent combination.
Oh. This is funny. Apparently he nailed Mark Teixera in consecutive at-bats in 2009.
Does Vicente remind you of anyone?
Good job with the bargain binning, Benny C.
No Yankees made the hothead list. And no Kevin Greggs either.
In other news, Doug Mirabelli isn’t even PLAYING and he’s winning. So maybe we should snatch him up too. Why the frick not? Dougie, want to come home?
And, if you want to sigh an audible awwwwww at work today, read this.
So. Um. Just in. We’re. Um. Scut-less. We better get a great pitcher. A GREAT one. We traded with… let’s see… the Rockies. So a great pitcher would be… Oh. Right.
Update- hearing it’s Clayton Mortensen. Clay Mortensen. Okayyyyy.
Let’s meet you, courtesy of Wikipedia.
On the night of 2 October 2009, Mortensen was arrested on suspicion of drunken driving and spent the night in the Santa Clara County jail.
Um. Anyone else feel another beer and chicken joke coming?
Oh no. Don’t read this article on a Rockies loss in June. It sounds too dejavuzy. You will shudder and have Bard-bad-streak-flashbacks. Here’s an excerpt.
Clayton Mortensen, at this moment the saddest man in Colorado, was muttering to himself as he trudged to the Rockies’ dugout.
His shoulders sagged. His right arm was hanging low. He kept talking, with himself as the only audience, as he approached his teammates.
Are you seeing this? Rumors abound that a Scutaro trade could be a-foot.
Scut was actually useful. USEFUL. Could we stop this crazy talk, Benny V?
Let’s talk more imports than exports, guys. Who we can get. Not who we can kick out.
The theory is- Scut would free up the $$$ to get pitchers. Okay. Great. I like pitcher $$$.
Someone explain again why we can’t do that with Lackey? He’d be a GREAT export.
What’s your take on Mr. Marco? Leave the scoop on the Scut in the comments section.
PS- it is snowing in Delaware. See?
I am terrified. Because I have to drive to the Philly airport in the am. Stupid snow. It follows me. I’m telling you…
PPS- I like Delaware. Because you never have to pay for drinks. More on this later.
Inspired by fellow blogger Jup.
Jup, you see, doesn’t like Jacoby Ellsbury (who she calls Pretzels). And is unapologetic about it:
You’re not getting me on that bandwagon. It looks crowded, and I’m not that social. After giving it thirty seconds of thought, Pretzels has Kevin Cash syndrome. No matter what he does, no matter how well he plays, I won’t like him, and I don’t have a legitimate reason.
I get it.
No, I do.
I am a staunch Jacobist. Always will be (as long as he stays anti-juice) thanks to a well-timed home steal against Pettitte that one time.
But it got me thinking…
Who’s that player that you’re unapologetic about? Who’s that player that can’t do right by you, even if they work the win?
I have two, really. You know my anti-Lackeyness… (who I grimace at even on the few outings where he kicks) but unless you’ve been paying close attention- you may not know about my anti-Jed Lowrie-ness. I can’t explain it, really. I think it’s because he’s always injured. But Dice-K is always injured. And much more of a liability. And I find myself missing him, that little smirk he does when he sizzles. You know?
Jed Lowrie? I don’t even miss him when Scut anti-sizzles. You know. That thing he has been doing ALL THE TIME lately.
So who is it that cringes your last nerve? That you force yourself to watch? That you root for BECAUSE he’s on the home team?
And, on the other side of the spectrum… who do you unapologetically defend with every fiber in your fan being, often for no reason? Who will always be on your fantasy team? Even when he’s swinging strikes and falling face first into the baseball dirt on his way back to the dugout?
I don’t have a player like that. Nope.
KEVIN YOUKILIS DOES NOT COUNT. HE IS PERFECT.
Non-Sox fans? Same question.
4:23. At work. Explaining to someone the tradition that is Tim Wakefield.
So, betting time. I’ve got all my imaginary money on a win. That’s approximately 127,450 imaginary dollars. Imaginary dollars that I was saving for my imaginary boat and my imaginary high-interest mutual fund. It’s all I have left after purchasing my imaginary island last week with my imaginary savings. If I lose it, I’ll be marooned.
What do you think, Soxies? Is today the day that Father Time… um… Father Tim will deliver double hundreds?
See you in a few hours!
6:15. Getting off work. Step closer to being able to watch entirety of actual game…
HILARIOUS story about Alex Rodriguez on Deadspin (thanks, Jeb!).
New York Yankees star Alex Rodriguez played in an underground, illegal poker game where cocaine was openly used, and even organized his own high-stakes game, which ended with thugs threatening players.
Check it out while you tailgate.
7:15. Okay. Carlos Carrasco. There’s something funky about the video on MLB.tv today… anyone else experiencing this? Checkerboards? No? Just me.
Jacoby chops to first. First out.
I wish they would stop spitting in public. It’s embarassing.
This is frustrating already. two outs. Sorry, Pedroia. I thought it was a homer too.
Gonz has an extremely dramatic single. Jacoby would have made that a triple. But whatever. The crowd goes silent as Youkie steps up to the plate. Okay. I may have assisted with the mute button on my computer…
Okay. They’re picking on Youkilis. The announcers say they’re picking on Youkilis. STOP PICKING ON YOUKILIS.
Thank you. With that complete and utter fail, Cleveland, you stopped. And helped my husband have one hell of a double. Okay, sound. You can come back again.
Papi at the plate. This MLB feed is really going to annoy me. I can tell. Base hit! Youkie! Gonz! 2-0 lead. 2-0. I like how this is going. Yes. Go team 200. That’s what I will call you all today. Team 200. Do it for Wake. Do it.
Carl Crawford, buddy, pal, friend, let’s widen the cushion, shall we? Let’s spread out that cushion like a picnic blanket. Like throat coating cough syrup. Like… like a home run.
Out. Okay. Um. First inning. Two runs. Okay.
Top of the second. 7:29. Travis Hafner. at the plate. Strike two.
Youkie in the shortstop spot (????) throws him out.
Carlos Santana who has shifted from catcher to first base? What a weird game.
Okay, announcers. I don’t want to know how well the batters hit against Timmy. This is not helpful information for my pro-200 mindset. You will go on mute again. Mute, I say.
Steeeerike. First K of the night.
Knucklin’. Knucklin’ your way to 200. Knuckleballs look so silly. I wonder how they look coming at your face. Judging from the confuzzled expression on Konerko’s face, not pleasant.
Throws it in the dirt again.
Um. Let’s not do that.
Tim turned 45 yesterday? Why didn’t I know that? I would have thrown a party.
A-Gonz shoves in the out.
7:35. I am so tired, guys.
Bottom of the second.
Not. A. Good. Sign for my awakeness…
Cleveland, I’m sorry your pitcher lost his last five starts. Really. And I’m sorry that tomorrow it will be six. Heidi Watney, I really don’t care about this. Thanks.
Reddick. Base hit. At the wall. Dramatic single. One out. But Joshy on first.
That ball almost hit Baltimore… wayyyyyy on the bottom of the wall list.
Marco Scutaro kind of looks like this guy I went out with this this one time. Not sure why I’ve never noticed that… my, what an awkward memory.
Good swing by Marco Scutaro? Um, Remy, a good swing is going to be when it’s out of the park and we’re two runs scarier.
Full count for Scut. See, I’m not worried- because Jacoby’s up next.
Fly to center… catch. Out.
Whatever, let’s see you, Jacoby.
Ball one. Okay. We can walk there. That’s fine. My computer keeps freezing on ridiculous expressions in the audience. Like this guy in a pink plaid shirt with his mouth open. He is clearly a Cleveland fan.
No offense, Bheise. You would NEVER wear that shirt.
In the air to right. Makes the catch. Ends the second. Okay. That’s fine.
0-2. Top of the third. Tim Wakefield is about to be a badass. You’ll see.
Any minute now.
Pop out. Jacoby’s all over it.
Any minute now.
He just smirked. Was that a badass smirk?
Yes. Yes it was. Second strike out for Tim Wakefield.
That’s KK, for those of you paying attention at home.
Ground ball. Easy out.
And then Scutaro kicks it.
Scutaro kicks it?
Scutaro kicks it.
Bunt. Out at first.
Okay. Scut… you better go shake Gonz’ hand.
Up the middle, base hit for Pedroia… our 5th hit of the night, by the by… on a new 5 game hit streak… Okay.
25 game streak broken by the White Sox. That one hurt.
Gonz tries the bunt. Not so much with the success.
Pedroia tagged out. Pedroia!
“That’s a helpless feeling for a baserunner, when you take off too soon,” announcer said.
Caught stealing. Bah.
Gonz grounds into the shift. Obvious out- but he runs for THAT one, notice.
Shut up, Heidi! Youkilis is batting.
Ball and a strike. I just love the Youk chant. It’s like a moan, really. Ball and two strikes. Two outs. Come on, baby. I believe in you. Want me to clap? I’ll clap. I can do that. Hell, it worked in Peter Pan.
Clearly, you are not Peter Pan. End of inning.
39 pitches for you, Timmy. 40th… a strike. And a fast ball.
Okay. Breathe. 200. 200. Just repeat that. You know. 200 times.
Hopefully this won’t take 200 tries.
Ball bounces. Ridiculously.
Clearly witchcraft. 2-2. Tie game.
Yeah, Salty. I think you SHOULD talk to Tim Wakefield. Maybe you should talk to him longer. NO outs. 2-2. 8:05 p.m.
Wild crazy pitch puts the guy to third.
Okay. Wakey. Okay. Let’s just calm down.
This inning is gross. Let’s start over. Or. Um. End it. Or something. Wake?
52 pitches. Tonight a year ago collision at the plate with Santana? Yeah. Let’s not repeat that. I’d rather Wake just strike you the frick out.
Like he just did. Making it KKK.
55 pitches. Okay. Let’s give that lonely out some friends. Two, to be specific.
Thank you. Sit down.
And, in the announcer booth, we’re talking about Tito bobbleheads. I really, really want one. Is that wrong? Will you buy me one?
“Where’s his finger so I can dislocate it again?”
That’s a bit much, announcer. A bit much.
A bobblehead night?
Doesn’t make the catch- Ortiz stopped at third, double for Crawford. Lovely. Kismet.
Second. Third. ZERO outs. ZERO.
BASES LOADED! BASES LOADED!
But BASES LOADED!
Come on, Marco.
Come on, Marco. Stephen King is watching.
I mean, it’s not a grand slam… but… at least we avoided a double play.
2 outs. Carl at third. Marco at first. Jacoby at the plate. Scut steals.
Anddddd we start the bottom of the 6th with an out.
And about fifteen yawns from me.
And two outs. Blast.
That was a dramatic fail… and we’re on first.
Of course, it may be moot, because Marco’s up.
Out. That was fast.
Top of the 5h. 8:30 p.m., but it feels like midnight. Wake… can you do this quickly? Thanks.
Thanks. 1 out.
Crap. And one on first.
2 outs. Okay. Okay. Guy on second. Whatever, guy on second. Wake promised this would be fast.
First and second. Okay. And Asdrubal is up to the plate.
3 outs. Thanks be to Fisk. I’m so sleepy, guys. So sleepy…
Gonz and Pedroia are trying to wake me up. It’s sweet. Thanks, guys. But it’s not working. Youk is going to load up the bases. He will.
And the fifth crashes. Like I am about to…
Tim Wakefield. Please?
Oh no. Alfredo Aceves is warming up.
Oh no. Wakey, you can do it. I believe in you…
200. 200. 200. 200. 200.
Tim. 200. Tim.
He is stressing me out. Are you watching this? Is anyone watching this?
Tito looks stressed out. And Salty, I hope that’s stress, because you are causing some plate scariness with your not catching.
Okay, One on first. One on second. two outs.
Oh. AND IT IS TIED AT THREE-THREE now.
Tim is gone. And I have this sinking sleepy feeling that this is only the beginning of our journey to 200.
Top of the 7th. I am too tired to yell at you, Randy Williams.
It looked fair to me too, Jacoby. It is 9:20.
3-3. top. 8.
This game will clearly last forever.
Youkie. Fix it.
Ball four. Leadoff WALK.
Tony Sipp. Whatever.
Mike Avilles pinching. This is the first time I’ll really see you in action, Mike. Can I call you Mike? Papi. Oh, Papi. Swing and a miss. ‘Course.
Zero outs, Aviles on first.
Aviles steals second. This Aviles, he’s alright.
Pop out. Papi.
Carl. Can I call you Carl?
Seriously. Ties cause me to lose sleep. Fix this, Carl. Be a buddy.
Out on strikes.
Okay. Um. Aviles is still in scoring position. One out left. So. Um. Salty?
Oh no. Justin Masterson tomorrow. Oh no. I am so conflicted. I loved him so.
Right. Back to the actual game.
13-1 Yankees? Really, White Sox? REALLY?
Salty. Yes. Salty.
This game is stressful. I know what will make us ALL feel better:
The 9th. An out.
Crowd on its feet. Wish we were there.
Hi, Darnell McDonald.
FAIL, Darnell McDonald. Go. Sit. Down.
One out left.
ONE OUT or extra innings. And I can’t stay awake, people.
Jacoby, if you CARE about me at all…
OHMYGOD. You… you love me… you… you really love me…
I love you too, Jacoby. I love you too.
“Just want to try to drive the ball.”
You did, Jacoby. You did.
I love Paps’ victory face. I love it.
“We’re going to compete until the last out,” Jacoby said.