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On Friday, I attended the ballpark session of the annual SABR convention, which this year is in New York. The ballpark was Citi Field. The Mets furnished as speakers:
• Tom Goodwin (subbing for Terry Collins, who couldn't make it for some unspecified reason. I was hoping it was because he had to break the news of Neil Ramirez's unconditional release to Neil Ramirez)
• Wayne Randazzo, Steve Gelbs and Josh Lewin
• Sandy Alderson
• Pat Roessler (in uniform pants and recent Friday night free Jose Reyes shirt) with analytics aces T.J. Barra and Joe Lefkowitz
As you might have seen, Sandy made a little news, thanks to at least one reporter (Roger Rubin, stringing for Newsday) who thought to walk a few yards from the press box to left field Excelsior where they had us seated. He was asked about Tebow and he told a story of how the signing scout listed under the outfielder's entry in the media guide is actually the Mets' director of merchandising. I'd say Sandy admitted Tebow is there to sell t-shirts and jerseys and generally contribute to the sport's entertainment quotient, but "admit" implies some form of coercion. Sandy was the personification of a shrug emoji on that count, basically saying, "Yeah...so?"
He also cracked wise about contacting Atlanta to find out if he can get a deal on their excess Bartolo Colon bobbleheads, mentioning he can't address the status of a player still under contract to another organization. Plus some stuff about draft slots (teams are paying more for higher picks and are skimping in the middle rounds); growing the game in India as opposed to Australia (he'd like to see the former get going, because there's more people); David having no timetable for a return (but is still working on it out in L.A.); free agents to be being wise to embrace their versatility (kind of rolling his eyes at Asdrubal's recent outburst, taking credit for making Jay Bruce a part-time first baseman so he can get paid more). He wouldn't commit to Terry or himself for beyond the foreseeable future and didn't imply the foreseeable future is foreseeable. When the moderator, Barry Bloom of mlb.com, framed a question as "you're in it," meaning the race, Sandy basically laughed off the idea before, as Sandy will, calibrating and giving an insightful, balanced, mostly content-free reply.
When you listen to Sandy enough, you are reminded that baseball isn't a state secret. He may not tell you all you want to know, never mind the answer you want, but he will thoroughly talk through your query. Baseball people love to talk baseball, or at least go through the act of talking baseball.
Goodwin (or "Goody" as he refers to himself in anecdotes of others talking about him) was very peppy and positive. Said lovely things about the absent Mr. Wright, endorsed the handling of one's business, told a neato story about Curtis Granderson learning to relax when he played college ball, noted he wears a wristband in honor of Dusty Baker (he praised all his managers, right up to Terry, who will talk to you about anything, unless you're a SABR attendee who was scheduled to hear from him). Like Tim Teufel at this year's QBC, Goodwin was a delightful nuts & bolts listen, except with no 1986 stories. I like hearing coaches talk, mainly 'cause usually they don't have a platform, so when they do, there are usually insights forthcoming.
The announcer trio was sharp, save for the faulty mic Randazzo was stuck with. Josh praised Steve to the high heavens and SNY/the Mets as well for how he is deployed. He recalled that in Texas he'd be directed to go to their field reporter in tense game situations and the reporter would be interviewing a bunch of fraternity bros about how much fun it is to go to a Rangers game. They all attested to the New York market being way different and tougher than anywhere else (Wayne said there was no comparison between Chicago and NY), but that they appreciated it. Both Randazzo and Gelbs, who retain their youthfulness despite hanging around the Mets, have grown in their roles, I believe, and I sense that someday people in this audience will be seeing them doing high-profile stuff a la Burkhardt and be telling whoever will listen, hey, I saw that guy at a SABR meeting once. One other thing they all shared was the revelation that broadcasting is not the cut-throat business they'd assumed, as these guys from different markets help each other out all the time. Josh told his Ernie Harwell couldn't have been nicer in welcoming him to Detroit story, which will make any warm afternoon toasty.
The most interesting take away from Roessler and the analytics guys is how you have to find the players in the right mood to hear about data, though there's definitely more openness to it all the time. Roessler said whereas it used to be "cover the outside pitch so you can hit the other way more," now a player like Conforto will ask for data supporting the suggestion. Jay Bruce is particularly interested in this stuff. Also, Barra said, the Mets send one of them on the road every trip so they can put their findings to immediate use as game situations dictate, which I didn't know. These guys work in proximity with Roessler (and maybe other coaches) during games.
Very worthwhile all around. I was surprised there wasn't a single security guard outside the ballpark at 3 PM telling us to all go away, they don't know what we're talking about. I was also surprised they didn't send everybody out of the building at 5:09 PM to get our game tickets scanned. They took care of that on the Excelsior level and gave us bonus Reyes shirts to go with the night's Cespedes model (must have been a lot of Joses left over from a rainout or something). OTOH, I don't know why the Mets didn't put a WELCOME SABR message on the scoreboard while the session went on. It's the little things. Also, nobody announced to this history-minded audience, "go downstairs and check out our hall of fame and museum," though I took it upon myself to lead a small group down there.
I watched most of the game amid a fairly agnostic crew in the Big Apple Orchard or whatever that section is called where the 7 Line Army waves thundersticks but we brandished slide rules (ha ha). Had a low-key Phillies fan in front of me, a bit of a know-it-all Dodgers fan off my right shoulder (he called Cespedes a clubhouse lawyer, because he read something once). As I will in those lone wolf situations, I plugged in Howie and Josh, who couldn't have been sharper and I couldn't have been happier to have them narrate the surprisingly taut 2-1 game for me. Had a horrifyingly fantastic view of Curtis not catching that fly ball. Also got great sound on Reyes's triple (the ball and the center fielder crashing into the fence) and every reliever warming up. Spied Jeurys and a Phillies reliever fraternizing early. Eventually squeezed my way over to some friends whose tickets had them seated a ways over. If I'd been registered for the whole conference, I probably could have coordinated better, but I did the one-day thing and it was a little random. Anyway, we put it in the books, I got some nice folks from South Dakota onto the Super Express, caught my train at Woodside and somebody somewhere was entertained by Tim Tebow thanks to Sandy Alderson.
Good experience.
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