The untimely second death of Dave Henderson

I was sad to see that Dave "Hendu" Henderson passed away from a massive heart attack this morning at age 57. According to The Seattle Times Hendu had been suffering from kidney problems for several years and had a transplant earlier this year.

Hendu was the first-ever draft pick of the Seattle Mariners, but gained most of his playing fame through playoff heroics with the Red Sox and Athletics. He later returned to Seattle and was a commentator on M's broadcasts for a number of years. I thought he was terrible at first, but eventually it seemed he may have had some coaching, slowed down his delivery a little, and made some good contributions to the games.

The ashes of a 1985 season Dave Henderson APBA card, and
photo of my stadium where the dice were not kind to him.

Hendu actually "died" for the first time back in 1986. He was on my team in an APBA league and was playing dismally; the dice were not kind to him. Hendu had hit .241 with 14 home runs during the 1985 major league season, but the following year in APBA he was batting just .188 with no dingers and just four RBI in 27 games. The real-life Hendu often lost the grip on his bat after a strikeout, and it would go pinwheeling out onto the field or into the stands. I had a number of the 13s on his card circled, designated to be lost-bat Ks, for added realism in the game.

After another agonizing whiff in a key situation, I lost patience, took Hendu's card out to the Hibachi and torched it, then cooked up a tale about his death in a fiery auto accident. I still have his ashes, which were on display in my dice "Big A" stadium for the rest of the season. My Angels won their division that year, going 54-26 behind Ron Guidry (12-3, 2.25) and Tommy Herr, who hit .344. Despite Hendu's disappearance, I had plenty of Henderson on the club, which also included Rickey and Steve.

Hendu's APBA death later turned out to be a ruse; it turned out fans of the team had kidnapped him after a loss in Cleveland, and released him after the season was over. He was soon traded. The authorities are still trying to figure out whose remains were found in that rental car in Cleveland.

It is perhaps testament to APBA mania that I still have the charred remains of a Dave Henderson card that I burned in a fit of pique 29 years ago, and that I still have and could find my team's final stats from that season. I retired from that league after 1991; it is still running, though, and has been continuously since about 1969. They switched to Diamond Mind baseball some years ago.

Rest in peace, Mr. Henderson.

Unlucky M's

Weisenheimer is an admitted baseball stathead.

M's cleanup hitter José Lopez is slugging .278 and his OPS is
.527. Couple of flares drop in for him, he's right back in the
groove. Seattle Times photo by Rod Mar.

As a long-time participant in baseball simulation leagues involving the dice-based board game APBA and then, later, computers, statistical analysis of the game has been a big part of enjoyment of that hobby. I went off the deep end when Bill James was doing his Baseball Abstract in the early '80s. I've given up the sims; this is the first year since 1973 that I haven't been in some sort of baseball replay league. (I retired to devote more time to writing Weisenheimer, Seattle Astronomy Examiner, book reviews for Arches magazine, and to be be board chair at Balagan Theatre. I may be doing something else I can't remember right now.) But I still follow the M's and the Cardinals, and read blogs such as U.S.S. Mariner and Lookout Landing. Both sites are stuffed to the brim with FIPs and wOBAs and wOBArs and BABIPs and UZRs and a bunch of other newfangled statistics that tell us more about players than batting average and ERA.

Thus I read with interest a post yesterday on LL that said, in essence, that the Mariner offense is simply snakebit. Quoting:

We say it every day, this offense isn't this bad. They're getting unlucky. They're getting really freaking unlucky.

This put me in mind of "Bobby," a character in the great film Bull Durham who gets released from A-ball because he can't hit. "Skip," he protests, "I know I'm in a goddamn slump, but I hit the ball hard today. Couple flares drop in for me, I'm right back in the groove."

Sorry. The organization wants to make a change.

I decided to do my own statistical analysis. Even after today's huge five-run outburst (in a loss) the M's have scored just 130 runs in 39 games, a measly 3.33 runs per game. Only the pathetic Houston Astros have scored fewer in all of baseball. Fifteen of the 16 teams in the National League have scored more runs, and they make the pitchers bat over there! (Our DHs hit very much like pitchers, but that's another story.) The Mariners have 21 home runs, again 29th in baseball, ahead of only Houston. And three of those are by Mike Sweeney, so they shouldn't really count. Here's why:

Weisenheimer is convinced that Sweeney is a practical joke played on the M's by the rest of the league. During spring training they said, hey, let's throw a bunch of meatballs to Sweeney, and if he hits .847 or something in March the Mariners might think he's still got it and actually keep him on the roster. IT WORKED! So, mid-May arrives and Sweeney is batting about .172 with no homers and about two RBI. The Internets are calling for his head on a platter, so the league answered with more meatballs, and Sweeney homered in three consecutive games! He can go to lunch on those meatballs for another couple of months. Sweeney is now batting .242 with three home runs and seven RBI. (I know, the Lookout Landing folks would chide me for using these counting stats, but what the heck.) To top it all off, jogging around the bases after those home runs caused Sweeney to get a sore back, and he hasn't been able to play since the big power surge.

In short, Weisenheimer contends the Mariners are not unlucky on offense. They flat out stink. If not for Ichiro and Gutierrez, this might well be the stinkiest Mariner offense of all time. And I'm old enough to have seen some really smelly lineups. I remember Scrap Iron Stinson behind the plate, Dan "Old Whitey" Meyer down at first, Lenny Randle down at third, Pee Wee Briley in left. I saw Mario Mendoza, namesake of the Mendoza Line, play shortstop for a couple of years. (Mendoza actually hit .245, with an OPS of .596, in 1980, so I guess you could say he "erupted" the same year as Mt. St. Helens.) If Mendoza were on this year's team he'd be batting fifth.

The M's are 14-25. If Joe Riggins, the manager in Bull Durham, were here, he'd shake his head, mutter "How'd we ever win 14," and stomp off in a glorious stream of expletives.