“Happy baseball teams are all alike; every unhappy baseball team is unhappy in its own way.”
The noted baseball scribe Tolstoy wrote those words sometime back, long before the DH, and they're as true for bloggers now as they were for newspaper men with lots of agate to fill with minute analysis then. (Anna Karenina also has Vronsky's great disquisition to Levin to “hit 'em where they ain't,” but that's another post.)
But you know what? A lack of material isn't such a bad thing.
Pedro fits his pitching to whatever park he's in. Put him in a stadium where anything hit 20 feet up would land in a net for a home run and he'd conjure 23 or 24 ground balls. Put the fences 110 feet from home plate and he'd find 23 or 24 strikeouts. Put him in RFK with its deep fences emblazoned with vaguely accurate measurements and he'll let Nationals hit loud but harmless drives into gloves. And he'll demonstrate that where Jose Guillen is concerned, having a player waiting to be hit with a baseball replaces the need to actually hit him with one.
Anderson Hernandez hangs in on the double play better than most native second basemen. David Wright's glove has gotten a lot better, and his bat remains above reproach. Billy Wagner will find a way. Carlos Beltran healthy is a marvelous thing to watch.
There will be time for agonized appraisals of whatever bad things will befall us. There will be losing streaks and slumps and injuries and better teams to face and double plays not turned. For now, there aren't. If you're thinking this will not last, you're right — it won't. It can't. But that's no reason for poor-mouthing. Just enjoy.
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