I have high hopes for the 2012 Brewers, and I think most of these hopes are based on some sort of legitimacy. However, I'm slightly afraid that their success in 2011 sets a precedent too difficult to match, because for me, baseball seasons are remembered for its moments, not necessarily its results. I know that's a very my-hometeam-has-never-been-all-that-successful type of excuse, but I really believe it.

2011, the best Brewers regular season in history based on W/L, had several great moments: Fielder's 14th inning walk-off blast to knock off the Rockies, Lucroy's walk-off squeeze, Braun's pinch-hit game winning HR in Florida, and his division clincher on September the 23rd. Of course, none of which quite equate to Nyjer Morgan's walk-off single to win the deciding game of the NLDS. Let me explain why the 2012 season may never deliver like 2011 did for me, and why that really doesn't bother me . . .

Deer hunting is a season-encompassing activity in our family. We escape to northern Wisconsin, as many do, and operate our buck-facturing enterprise out of a small cabin plopped in the middle of the Nicolet Forest. As the years have gone by, the ancient relic has become increasingly difficult to maintain, so much of our hunting season is spent doing everything except hunting.

Fortunately, the cabin is electrified, and we've recently added the luxury of satellite television. Compared to what it used to be, it's the Taj Mahal; however, it still doesn't contain any plumbing - that's right, we crap in an outhouse.

Needless to say, we (and by we, I mean my Dad and his brothers - I don't do anything) often need to plan 2-4 weekends every fall to prepare the cabin for habitation; inventory, whacking weeds, disinfecting, cobweb clearing, and dead mouse removal being typical tasks. As anyone with family knows, organizing multiple free weekends among several hard-working people is a bastard. Just so happens, the second weekend of October worked for enough of us to be able to schedule a "Lakewood weekend", as we call it.

One can imagine our trepidation as we watched the Brewers fail to clinch the NLDS in Arizona, with a potential game 5 slated for that Friday evening.

For that was our evening of travel. Given the rarity of the get-together, my father wasn't about to cancel the weekend for a baseball game, no matter how meaningful it may be. I think our adoration of Bob Uecker was the unspoken breaking point of the argument - listening to Brewers baseball, as many of you likely know, is as enjoyable as radio can be. It would sure make the four-hour drive go faster . . . or so we mused.

In retrospect, I wonder if witnessing the game on television could have possibly matched the experience we had in the truck that night on Highway 41.

There are two innings in game 5 that stand out in my mind: obviously, the bottom of the 10th, and the top of the 8th. The top of the 8th itself wasn't exactly a do-or-die kind of situation, but was certainly intensified given the fact that the low-scoring affair had that every-run-is-worth-twenty feel to it, and that grand-slamming Paul Goldschmidt stepped to the plate opposite Francisco Rodriguez with runners on the corners and one out.

What really didn't help was the construction-induced stand-still traffic on northbound Highway 41 and the frequent AM-signal-blocking bridges crossing overhead.

A rough transcription of a moment in the longest 5-pitch sequence ever, the Paul Goldschmidt AB:

Dad: Another overpass. We're going to ****ing lose it. Should have stayed home.
Me (hand over face): God, I hate this so much.
Uecker: Two balls, no strikes. Postseason - this guy is hitting .500. And the pitch - SWING and a miss . . .
Me (hand over face): Oh, thank God. I hate this so much.
Dad: Fina****inglly, a strike. Aaand we're stopped again. Here it comes, getting closer. It's gonna go.
Me (hand over face): I hate this.
Dad: Should've stayed home - now we're ****ing moving. Any second now.
Uecker: . . . singled again in the sixth. Two balls and a strike. Now ready. Here it is - swing and a smashcckkckkkcckckckckckckchckchckck . . .
Dad: ****!
Me (hand over face): WHAT?! I HATE THIS!
Dad: WHAT THE - MOVE, PEOPLE, ****ING MOVE!
Me (hand over face): Never in my life have I ever hated anyth-
Dad: We're moving! Should have ****ing STAYED HOME -
Uecker: . . . ckckhkchckcFrankie ready!
Dad: ****!
Me (hands clenching dashboard): AGH!
Uecker: Here it is - HEEEEEEEY STRU-
Dad: AGH!
Me: AAGH!

You get the picture.

Thankfully, the rest of the inning went uninterrupted and K-Rod somehow wiggled his way out of the inning without allowing a run, an ability he's patented. The Win Probability chart for K-Rod's 8th (vintage Frankie - note that the red indicates high leverage):

The ninth inning's excitement was tarnished by a deflating effort from the middle of the Brewers order, and a leadoff double by Gerardo Parra. I don't think me or my father spoke a word in the whole inning; partially in frustration that we didn't feel justified in whining about John Axford blowing his first save in his last 100000 attempts, and partially in exhaustion from the previous inning.

The traffic got moving again, and as the Brewers went quietly in the ninth, we settled into a relative calm - extra innings always feel inevitable in torturous games like this one. We finally exited the freeway, and the calm frustration persisted onto a rural highway, and into the bottom of 10th inning. I got the impression that the outcome of the game would significantly impact the morale of our crew at the cabin over the weekend.

Our attitude throughout the 10th was much like the 9th - I don't think either of us wanted to get too excited in any direction until something extremely consequential happened. It seems silly looking back on it now, but I think we were both so drained from the stress of the previous 9 1/2 innings, we just didn't have the energy to stress any longer.

Cue Carlos Gomez.

As soon as he stole second base, we both fidgeted in our seats - thank God dad didn't have to worry about traffic congestion any longer - all he had to worry for now was this miserable game, and the deer poking their heads out of the woods on either side of the road every three minutes. I swear, I have no idea how he did it.

What's great about Carlos Gomez in this situation is this: the listener knows as soon as a base hit is confirmed, the game is over. When Nyjer tickled Putz's 2-2 delivery over second base, and Uecker exclaimed "BASE HIT TO CENTER!", we both did that ridiculous screaming-while-half-listening thing; Dad, with the fury of Hades, clenched the wheel with both hands, while I frantically clutched his shoulder with my left, gripping the dashboard maniacally with the right.

Somewhere in the chaos we heard " . . . AND THE BREWERS WIN!"

I screamed long, drawn-out screams; screams as long and loud as my lungs and vocal chords could allow. Dad, on the other hand, screamed shorter, more pointed screams, like gunshots. I probably looked like an idiot, limbs flailing in elation while stomping my feet - but the vision in my head of my dad's reaction, two hands wringing the wheel while violently screaming in repetition, is downright iconic, like Gibson's fist pump, Jordan's juke on Russell, or Elway's helicopter-spinny-thing.

I have a hard time believing that in any moment of time I will ever exhibit that much enthusiasm about anything, ever. Usually, I stubbornly deny that sports affect me emotionally, but I'm just not sure that anything can top that experience.

Sure, I was irritated as any Brewers fan when the Cardinals took the NLCS and eventually the World Series, but I have this memory, and it was absolutely worth it.

Good luck, 2012.

Ron Roenicke is once again campaigning the "aggressive baserunning" agenda in 2011. Given the knowledge that the negative effect of an unwarranted out on the basepaths significantly outweighs the positive effect of a stolen or extra base, some of us can feel rightfully queasy; especially for Ed Sedar, who will presumably assume the position under the bus in 2012.

Per Adam McCalvy:

"I'd like to be a little more creative in what we do," Roenicke said. "It's all about how you manufacture runs without Prince [Fielder] in the lineup. We need to do some things to maybe make up for his loss."

You see, Ron believes strongly in a well-known baseball maxim: Force the game to come to you.

"We're going to try to do it, and we'll see how it goes," Roenicke said. "If we're running into too many outs, and I don't like what's going on, then we'll rein them back a little bit. But I think Spring Training is a good test for them to see what they can do, how far we can go with being aggressive."

Of course, this is nothing new; Roenicke made this a priority straight out of the gate in 2011. The Brewers never ended up pushing the envelope in terms of stolen bases, largely based on the personnel, but their decision-making on the basepaths last season were far from conservative. However, there are metrics that indicate the Brewers were actually above average overall on the bases a season ago.

One method of determining baserunning proficiency is in reference to run-expectancy, aptly named as a metric for how many runs an offense scores in an inning on average with a given number of outs, baserunners, and the baserunner's location. The numbers fluctuate year-to-year, but the difference between each specific situation shows consistency.

An example of run expectancy - in 2011, with a runner on first and nobody out, the average MLB offense scored .85 runs in the inning (incidentally, the lowest since 1992). If that runner stole second base, the run expectancy rises to 1.06. If that runner was thrown out, it would have fallen to .26. The risk very clearly outweighs the reward in this scenario. The manager is risking .6 runs in order to gain .2 runs. It really doesn't make a whole lot of sense unless the remaining two or three batters in the inning are all pitchers, or if the base-stealer has a tremendous SB% based on a legitimate sample of SB opportunities and the team is down by a run in the ninth inning.

Here's a quick chart on how the Brewers fared in different run-expectancy based metrics in 2011:

The round-up:

• GAR - Ground Advancement Runs. This tells us the Brewers were far below average in successful movement of runners via the ground ball - for example, scoring from third on a ground ball, or moving to third on a ground ball to the right side.
  
• SBR - Stolen Base Runs. An estimation of overall stolen base effect. Predictably, the Brewers didn't rate too highly here, though keep in mind their total SB OPP came in at 24th in the league.
  
• AAR - Air Advancement Runs. Movement of runners through the air. Yuniesky Betancourt's greatest contribution to the 2011 Brewers: AAR.
• HAR - Hit Advancement Runs. Baserunner's success after a hit (a single or double, basically). By far the Brewers' most run-creating attribute - their ability to successfully take the extra base on a batted ball.
• OAR - Other Advancement Runs. A rather arbitrary stat based on runner's advancement on passed balls, wild pitches, walks, etc.
• BRR - Base Running Runs. Total baserunning success. It must be weighted to favor HAR and perhaps AAR, because it isn't an exact average of these statistics - if it was, the Brewers would be rated much lower.

The Brewers were a top 10 team on the bases, according to BRR. That can be almost entirely attributed to their success on moving after a base hit, as their success on ground balls and on stolen bases fell well below the break-even point. I wonder how much of that success stems from the fact that Ryan Braun and Prince Fielder were the two top sources of singles and doubles. Therefore, the speed of the team (Weeks/Morgan/Braun) were most often asked to take that extra base. However, it would still mean that the other slower players didn't make enough mistakes to counter the extra runs created, a credit to Ed Sedar.

I think the Brewers may be hard pressed to repeat this success on the bases, partly considering how poorly Aramis Ramirez has performed in recent seasons; his 2011 BRR was actually one tenth worse than Casey McGehee's, coming in at -5.3. Then again, that's the man he's replacing, and if Gamel can succeed the -3.3 runs from Prince's legs, I suppose sustainability or improvement isn't out of the question. If improvement can only come from creating runs, or simply choosing to not give them away is up for debate.

In summary - I think the proclivity to steal will fade as the season progresses just as it did last season, and the results are acceptable for a group of players without a ton of team speed.

Also, the Cardinals won the World Series and had easily the worst BRR in the entire league.

So . . . I won't tear my hair out over this one.

All statistics courtesy of Baseball Prospectus.

We've had to hear a lot about the Brewers' miserable offseason, from losing a franchise player to free agency and another to a possible suspension. Now that Ryan Braun is exonerated, I've gotten that extra surge of baseball fever, and my enthusiasm for 2012 just took a significant uptick. So, I decided to try my hand at some novice-level analysis to figure out how well the Brewers replaced what they lost this offseason.

According to just about every national comment I've seen or heard concerning the Brewers lately has had a striking eulogy-type tone; losing Prince Fielder to free agency is considered a tragedy for us, the poor fans of Milwaukee - damned to suffer through watching the likes of Ryan Braun, Corey Hart, Zack Greinke, Rickie Weeks, Yovani Gallardo, John Axford, Nyjer Morgan, Aramis Ramirez, Shaun Marcum, Francisco Rodriguez . . .

The list goes on and on . . .

Here's the idea that's been bouncing around in my head all winter: Would I rather have 2011 Casey McGehee, Yuniesky Betancourt, and Prince Fielder, or 2012 Aramis Ramirez, Alex Gonzalez, and Mat Gamel (or any other possible 1B)?

In order to form a crude representation of the production of the 2011 group, I simply average the non-rate statistics of the three into one hybrid player (pardon the lack of WAR, I'm a man of peace. HA. Puns.):

.259/.327/.433.

Some observations:

• Wow, Casey. Man, alive. Holy, sweet lord.
  
• Yuniesky Betancourt and Casey McGehee each exceeded 150 G, starting 146 and 140, respectively. The obvious result is undeserved PAs further devaluing Fielder's efforts. Yuni trailed Fielder by only 108 in PA, while McGehee's 600 only set him back by 92. It didn't help that they often batted consecutively after Prince in Roenicke's typical batting order. Yikes.
• Besides Fielder, only Ryan Braun started more games (147) and had more PA (629) for the Brewers than these two.

So, we now take the 2011 results for Ramirez and Gonzalez, and line it up with our 1B/3B/SS hybrid:

We can now use this to see what our vacuum first baseman would have had to produce to make our hypothetical 2011 squad identical to the real 2011 squad production-wise:

First off, this is obviously imperfect data. Because of the amount of games amassed by our 2011 starters, the extra average games are simply added past the maximum 162, meaning that the games (and PA) our mystery 1B does not start (and make) would be passed on to presumably inferior players. The non-rate stats are boosted slightly due to this; but done so at an equal rate, so the slash lines are legitimate as a singular entity. Also, as attractive as the idea of negative sacrifice bunts may be, it can't exist. Oh well.

Now, I use Ramirez's and Gonzalez's 2011 seasons to project output in 2012, which just simply won't happen. However, both players are moving to a right-handed hitter friendly Miller Park, which helps Gonzalez in particular, who spent half of 2011 in the cavernous Turner Field. Ramirez is less likely to see an increase in this department, as Wrigley Field is as hitter-friendly as any park in the warmer months. Another factor is age, which is harder to predict, especially considering the risk of injury; though I'm not particularly learned on the subject, I'd estimate age and park factors are basically a wash in this scenario (plus, no league change).

In addition, I don't account for any defense here, and I'm not alone in thinking it can't get much worse than McGehee/Betancourt in this department.

I figured that these calculations would show that we would probably need Mat Gamel to produce above a level that we can fairly expect from him, though not so much that it would be completely unfeasible. I expected to be reasonably surprised by the results - but not to this extent.

The major factor here is the incredible amount of playing time given to two very unproductive players. The assumed consensus is that Prince Fielder's value cannot be replaced - if the definition of replaced is who is manning 1B, then the mantra is probably true. However, I think many of us look at it differently; it's about the overall movement of the team as opposed to one position, and here the data shows that the monumental potential increase of production from the 3B position could make the replacement of Prince Fielder's production very possible.

The "Mystery 1B" is essentially a poor man's Carlos Pena. It tells us that what we'll miss most from Prince is his terrific on-base skills, and of course, his power - but not huge power. Does that skill-set scream Mat Gamel to anybody else? The BB/SO ratio is really the only thing I see here that is probably unattainable for Mat in his first full MLB season, but that isn't a projection of any kind, it's just excess information that I probably didn't need to include in the calculation. I can't imagine him working 100+ walks (remember, it's slightly inflated, and 30 of those are intentional), but considering the assumed increase he'll show in BA compared to .227, the OBP should work itself out.

Who else thinks Mat Gamel can manage a line around .227/.347/.410 to only match the production from these positions a year ago?

Is Prince Fielder replaceable?