So now Theo Epstein’s no longer a genius?
Jack Zduriencik’s not a truly amazin’ exec?
Billy Beane—forever canonized in film and books of creative non-fiction—is finally receiving questioning looks and rightful dissection of his true history rather than what some agenda-driven writer is trying to convey (and adjust on the fly)?
Genius is fleeting and a matter of opinion?
I thought it was either there or it wasn’t; now it’s based on a myriad of factors out of someone’s control? And who’s making the determination as to whom is a genius and who isn’t?
On the other side of the spectrum, Brian Cashman is receiving credit for basically having failed last winter in his attempts to get Cliff Lee and that he scraped the bottom of the barrel for the likes of Freddy Garcia, Bartolo Colon and Russell Martin; those moves happened to have worked.
Here’s news: it was luck; Brian Cashman will tell you it was luck.
Buck Showalter, whose mere presence with the Orioles, was going to craft a full 180 degree turn for that stagnant ship, has also lost his luster.
Know why? Because he doesn’t have any pitching and spent a good deal of the 2011 season using Kevin Gregg as his closer.
Who’s the next genius?
The next moron?
Is Kevin Towers a “genius” for tweaking what was already in place in Arizona with a few extra bullpen pieces?
Is Epstein now a fool because some of his name players haven’t performed?
Are we going to stop with the polar opposites of genius/idiot when it comes to analyzing baseball executives?
The word “genius” is thrown around so liberally and based on absolutely nothing other than factional debates and similar belief systems that it’s lost all meaning.
A genius is someone who creates a life-saving vaccine or builds something out of nothing, not the guy who signed Scott Hatteberg because he walked a lot and has taken endless advantage of a portrayal that is an absolute and utter farce; an image has been notoriously quick to use as an impenetrable shield to protect himself from the fact that his team is terrible.
And don’t you dare come back at me with the “oh, the A’s need a new ballpark and their options are limited”. The same people trying to use that tack were the ones who picked the A’s to win the AL West. You can’t have it both ways.
People are quizzical now as to Beane’s “genius”. It’s simplistic to ask, “well if Beane’s such a genius, why haven’t the A’s ever won a World Series?”
But maybe it’s not so simplistic in a world of genius/idiot.
Maybe if those who are benefiting from the appellation are going to advance because of it, they should decline because of it as well.
And perhaps those who are trying to pompously “explain” the concept of Moneyball as an “idea” rather than a strategy from which one must not deviate for fear of not being part of the herd are being exposed for what they are.
That contextualized version wasn’t the book I read. But you’ll find people who’ll call me a genius and an idiot.
And I don’t care either way.
There are no geniuses in baseball, but the public doesn’t want to hear that; they don’t want to hear about the labor pains, they just want to see the baby. And in the case of Beane and Moneyball, the baby was supposed to be a showpiece—gorgeous, intelligent and perfect.
The movie apparently says so.
But look at the A’s. Look at the desperation with which the myth is being protected and shifted to suit themselves.
By those metrics, it’s easier to have the separate and ironclad labels of either-or.
And under those parameters, where do the media darlings and targets wind up? Are they geniuses? Idiots? Or fantasies based on selfish ends?
You tell me.
I’ve decided: no review of the film Moneyball to be published here. It’ll be in my book, will be aboveboard and based on my own judgments. That’s my plan and I’m sticking to it.
It’s sheer GENIUS!!!!!!!