Tag Archives: j.p. ricciardi

Studio 60 on Roosevelt Avenue: Episode 2

STUDIO 60 ON ROOSEVELT AVENUE
EPISODE 2
WRITTEN COMPLETELY BY AARON SORKIN TOTALLY ALONE AND UNDER GREAT DURESS
TO RELIVE THE GENIUS OF THE PILOT EPISODE, CLICK HERE

LOGLINE: Once the nation’s best and most respected baseball GM, Sandy Alderson has been reduced to trying to revive a moribund franchise is the depths of deepest, darkest Queens. Along with his sharp-witted and adoring protégés, he fights off the seemingly endless series of controversies and crises that beset him while trying to run a sports team in the country’s most bustling metropolis, and still look fantastic while doing it. Can the pressures of such an important job crush this singularly talented and gifted individual genius?

ACT I

SANDY ALDERSON’s office, looking out over the majestic replica ball field built on a studio backlot at great expense. The grounds crew waters the field, spraypaints the foul lines, and rolls down new sod. ALDERSON sits on one corner of his desk, leaning on a knee, as his star shortstop JOSE REYES sits across from him, slumped in an office chair, his eyes sad and downcast.

REYES: Sandy, there’s no easy way to say this…

ALDERSON: No one ever got anywhere by saying what’s easy. Just spit it out.

REYES: Fine. I’ve decided to reenter the priesthood.

ALDERSON: [wandering toward the window] I had a feeling that’s where this was headed. We always knew this was a possibility when we drafted you out of that Dominican seminary.

REYES: It kills me to let down the team like this, but it would kill me more not to answer the call of The Lord.

ALDERSON: I completely understand. Of course, there are many aspects of your faith that I find absurd, even offensive. However, I fought for my country so people could believe whatever insane notion they wish.

REYES: I appreciate that, although I’m sorry you feel that way about faith.

ALDERSON: I’m afraid I saw too much in the service to cling to faith anymore. I wouldn’t say I’m mad at God, just a little mad at some of his creations.

REYES: You’re a good man, Sandy. I hope one day The Lord can touch your heart again.

ALDERSON: I hope so too.

REYES: What will you tell the press? The fans?

ALDERSON: That’s no longer your concern. Go. And God bless.

As ALDERSON stares off into the middle distance, the camera pans down onto a groundskeeper raking the infield and lingers on him for an entire minute for some reason as a melancholy cello concerto swells.

Continue reading Studio 60 on Roosevelt Avenue: Episode 2

Studio 60 on Roosevelt Avenue

STUDIO 60 ON ROOSEVELT AVENUE
PILOT
WRITTEN COMPLETELY BY AARON SORKIN TOTALLY ALONE AND UNDER GREAT DURESS

LOGLINE: Once the nation’s best and most respected baseball GM, Sandy Alderson has been reduced to trying to revive a moribund franchise is the depths of deepest, darkest Queens. Along with his sharp-witted and adoring protégés, he fights off the seemingly endless series of controversies and crises that beset him while trying to run a sports team in the country’s most bustling metropolis, and still look fantastic while doing it. Can the pressures of such an important job crush this singularly talented and gifted individual genius?

ACT I

Long tracking shot. We transition from ballplayers talking in front of their lockers to earnest reporters, through a long utility tunnel, and into the team’s lush executive offices. Audio: intermingled bits of in-game sound, post-game interviews, and the typical hustle and bustle of office life. Shot should last at least 7 minutes.

Suits scramble back and forth across a hallway lined with framed covers of old yearbooks, blown up photos of World Series celebrations, etc. SANDY ALDERSON emerges from his office and stalks down the carpet, trailed shortly thereafter by PAUL DEPODESTA.

DEPODESTA: You should look happier, considering tonight’s results.

ALDERSON: This is my happy face, you can’t tell?

DEPODESTA: The team came down from 12 runs down in the bottom of the ninth to win.

ALDERSON: There is no “winning” in this game, Paul.

DEPODESTA: I think there is actually winning in baseball, Sandy.

ALDERSON: We don’t play baseball, we play feeding frenzy. Win or lose, you have to face the reporters who want to know why this guy bunted in the third, or when you’re gonna trade for an ace to bolster the pitching staff. Win or lose, they’re back again the next night, hungry for more. If Sisyphus was alive today, he’d be a GM.

DEPODESTA: If it’s all so pointless, just quit.

ALDERSON: Everything’s pointless, Paul. Might as well do hardest pointless thing there is.

DEPODESTA: Is that what you learned in the Marines, Sandy?

ALDERSON: [shoots a withering look]

DEPODESTA: Sorry, Sandy. I forgot you don’t talk about, well…

Continue reading Studio 60 on Roosevelt Avenue

The Baseball Gods Bow to Math

I have done a complete 180 on my feelings about the Mets since the end of the season. 2010 couldn’t have gone worse, but even more frustrating was the fact that it seemed like there was no hope in sight. As necessary as the departures of Omar Minaya and Jerry Manuel became, those moves in and of themselves did not inspire me with confidence, because it seemed the real issue with the team was its tone-deaf, thoroughly unprogressive ownership.

Then they hired Sandy Alderson as their general manager, and my outlook changed from that second onward.

sandy.png* Apologies to whoever crafted my favorite Photoshopping of the 2008 presidential campaign.

Sandy Alderson is the architect of how modern front offices operate. There are
very few teams whose operations are not influenced in some way by what
he did with Oakland in the 1980s. Would Bill James-ian thought and top-down management made its way into the game anyway? Perhaps, but Alderson did it first, and it wasunbelievably revolutionary when he did it. To me, him running the Mets is like getting Frank Lloyd Wright to design my house, or Steve Albini to produce my album. (Full disclosure: I have neither a house nor an album.)

My biggest beef with the Mets in recent years has been how out of touch they were with the way competitive teams are constructed in the 21st century. I was frustrated by their complete rejection of anything remotely sabermetric. I was baffled by their seeming inability to attract top baseball minds to the richest media market in the country. While the Boston Red Sox–a team with comparable financial resources–assembled a juggernaut front office full of some of the best talent evaluators and number crunchers in the game, the Mets had their VP of player personnel challenging minor leaguers to shirtless brawls.

Overnight, all of these gripes were addressed, and then some. The fact that Alderson’s first hires were J.P. Ricciardi and Paul DePodesta, two Billy Beane acolytes prominently featured in Moneyball, is astounding. This not only creates a surplus of brain power in their organization, but also makes the Mets an attractive destination for an up-and-coming executive or talent evaluator, which they definitely were not this time last year. The Mets have already taken a quantum evolutionary leap. One second they were making crude stone tools, the next they were mapping the human genome.

Does the addition of Sandy Alderson mean the Mets will compete in 2011? I haven’t the slightest idea. The answer to that question depends in large part on Johan Santana, whose recovery from shoulder surgery remains a huge question mark. If he misses significant time, or is a shell of his former self, it’s going to be very hard for the Mets to win. I do think Alderson has the ability to improve this team right now. Whether they’ll improve enough to be a playoff team next season remains to be seen.

But even before he’s made a single personnel move (aside from picking up Jose Reyes’ option), I can say I feel more optimistic about this team than I have in a very, very long time. Because in the grand scheme of things, how the Mets do next year is not as important as how they set themselves up for the future, and they’ve already put themselves on the right track to do this.

The selection of Alderson as GM means the team will have a coherent philosophy and direction for the first time in a very long time, perhaps since the days of Frank Cashen. In both Oakland and San Diego, Alderson implemented organization-wide standards and goals, and there’s no reason to think he won’t do the same in New York. This is not as ground-breaking an idea as it once was, but the Mets have not attempted it in a long time, if ever.  After years of being lost on the backroads of baseball, Alderson’s hiring shows the Mets have finally decided to pull over and ask for directions.

The Mets couldn’t have indicated more clearly that they’ve made a break from The Old Way of doing things. Omar Minaya’s approach to building a team was a lot like Ed Wood (as played by Johnny Depp)’s approach to filmmaking: “It’s not about the little details, it’s about the big picture!”

Acquiring big time free agents like Pedro Martinez and Carlos Beltran? No problem. Surrounding those big time free agents with a supporting cast? Not so much. Even his backup/bench signings were “name” guys like Alex Cora and Jeff Francoeur, and he overpaid by several factors for the privilege, getting replacement level (or worse) production for sums that could have brought in several better players.

His administration would not–or could not–multitask. One problem area would be identified and targeted for each offseason, at the expense of everything else. Like 2009, when the Mets reacted to the bullpen woes of the previous year by signing Frankie Rodriguez and trading for J.J. Putz–and doing virtually nothing else, resulting in another lost season (though an injury epidemic of biblical proportions helped).

I have no such fears with Alderson. I have such faith in his abilities, in fact, that I’m totally indifferent to the managerial search. Before he was hired, I worried the Mets would take somebody for ticket-selling purpose, like Wally Backman. Now I feel that if Backman does wind up with the job, it’s because he was deemed the best man for the job.

My biggest concerns with Alderson are external: How will his regime be treated by the headline-hungry, chaos-loving sports press and an impatient fanbase that doesn’t necessarily know (or care) about his résumé? If the Mets are mediocre in 2011 (a distinct possibility), will fans and scribes alike scream MONEYBALL DOESN’T WORK! And will the Wilpons, who seem at times overly sensitive to criticism, get antsy if such an outcry occurs?

We’ll burn that bridge when we come to it. I have no expectations the Mets will sign a big-time free agent this winter, and yet I am filled with hope for their future. Weird, huh?