On Justin Masterson, Again

If you forced me to guess, I would say that I’ve probably written more words about Justin Masterson than about any other human being on the face of the planet.  Which is kind of weird for me to acknowledge, considering I’ve written a freaking master’s thesis and am, as Denny would say, “allegedly educated”.

But when you consider that I write mostly about baseball these days, and mostly about the Cleveland Indians at that, it becomes a little less weird.  But only by degree.

Why do I find Masterson so interesting?  I’m not sure, actually.  It’s certainly not because I’m convinced he’s the best player we have.  I mean, he might be the best player we have, but I’m not sure of it.  Santana might be the best player we have.  Choo might be the best player we have.  Heck, even Dunkers….well….no….probably not Dunkers.  Sorry Shelly.*

*Though of course, we should remember that Dunkers currently leads the Indians in batting average AND on-base percentage AND slugging percentage among players with more than 10 plate appearances.  He’s drawn walks in nearly 30% of his plate appearances, and leads the team in runs scored, wins above replacement and wOBA.  He also has the highest beard-to-making-me-laugh-out-loud-for-no-reason ratio.  I fully support adding Johnny Damon to the mix.  But it seems odd to take playing time away from Duncan right now, no?  Perhaps regression will show her ugly face in the next week or so, but if not, Acta is going to have to keep running Shelley out there I’d think.

Oh yeah.  Masterson.  Anyway, I think the reason I find him so compelling is that he provides such an interesting example for me to do my SABR-y thing with.  No pitcher I’ve ever studied has demonstrated quite as clearly the mistakes we can make when evaluating pitchers.  And no pitcher has taught me more about my own instincts (and how often they’re wrong) than Masterson.

But before we get there, let me remind you of where we’ve been.

When the Indians first acquired Masterson in the Victor Martinez trade from Boston, he was a 24 year-old middle-reliever/project starter with 160.1 career innings and a 3.76 ERA.  He struck out less than a batter per inning and had started a total of 15 games.  By the time he showed up in Cleveland, Boston had already moved him back to the bullpen as a seventh inning guy because of his platoon issues against left handed batters, effectively giving up on his chances of ever becoming an effective starter.

Shapiro insisted, nevertheless, that Masterson would be in the rotation to open the 2010 season, and would be stretched out as such to close out the 2009 campaign.

Then 2010 happened.  Masterson’s ERA through May that season was 5.87.  He didn’t record a win until June.  Left handed batters hit .290/.370(!)/.414 off him FOR THE SEASON—which is re-gosh-darned-diculous.  And all of us questioned the front office’s bull-headed refusal to give up on their silly experiment and move him to the bullpen.* I think I wrote eleven pieces on that very subject.

*The 2009 season, culminating with the late-July trades of Victor Martinez and Cliff Lee is often remembered as the nadir of Indians’ fandom over the last decade or so.  And those were sad days indeed.  But for my money mid-2010 was FAR worse.  The team was terrible.  And boring.  And seemingly devoid of anything resembling major league talent.  Lou Marson was our everyday catcher.  Our best pitcher was Fausto Carmona, who (a) no longer exists and (b) had a K/BB ratio that year of 1.70!  Outside of Shin-Soo Choo, not one position player had a WAR over 2.0.  At least in 2009 there were some expectations before the air came out of the sails.  In 2010, it was just excruciatingly boring and bad baseball, from beginning to end.  Maybe that’s why I wrote so much about Masterson, come to think of it….

As the off-season between 2010 and 2011 wound to a close and we began to prepare for the 2011 season, we were told again that Masterson was assured a spot in the rotation.  At this point, we were mostly resigned to the notion that Masterson probably belonged in the bullpen on a good team, but since we were decidedly not good, he’d have to serve as an innings eater in the back of the rotation.  Sure enough, Fausto opened the season by allowing 10 runs in the first three innings, and we all prepared for the pain of another long season.

Except, of course, it didn’t go down like we thought it would.  The Indians played well in the first half, but Justin Masterson performed even better.  He won his first five starts of the year, and through the end of July he had 2.56 ERA.  As lost as he looked the year before, he now looked brilliant—ace-like even.  He was in the top ten among AL starters in: ERA, FIP, GB% and WAR.  It was a breakout year.

So how are we here again, worrying about Justin Masterson?  Through his first three starts in 2012, he has a 6.48 ERA and is yet to “win” a game.  The cynics among us would like to point out that if you don’t count his opening day start of 8 innings and 1 run, things would look even worse.*


But before we get too excited here, let’s look to see what’s really going on.  I tried to separate out the data from the three “Masterson Epochs”—his Boston years covering 2008-2009, his 2009 and 2010 time with Cleveland, and his 2011 “breakout” year.  This is how I typically divide the eras of his career.  Have a look:

2008-2009 BOS160.33.767.583.652.080.9552.2%
2009-2010 CLE237.34.667.284.101.780.7259.1%
2011 CLE216.03.216.582.712.430.4655.1%

Obviously, you see the volatility of his ERA, but try to look at the peripherals.  What made 2011 such a breakout performance?  It sure wasn’t his strikeout rate, as 2011 represented the lowest rate of his career.  He also wasn’t any more groundball prone last season.  In fact, looking over this list, I see more consistency among the three samples than divergence.

But I’d argue that it was two remarkably simple attributes that turned a terrible, failed project bullpen arm in 2010 into a dominant starter in 2011.  First, he cut his walk-rate considerably.  Second, he limited home runs allowed.  And yeah, that’s probably one of the reasons I write so much about him: he’s shown me how simple evaluating pitching can be, if you know where to look

So now we look at these numbers in 2012:

2012 CLE16.26.487.

Outside of the high home run rate, the rest of the peripherals look to fall right in line, and in such a small sample, it’s silly to say he’s destined to allow more than one home run per nine innings for the rest of the season.  Nearly 16% of his flyballs have become home runs so far this season, and there’s just no way that’s going to continue all year long.

No.  Justin is exactly who he’s always been.  We were terrified of him in 2010 and enthralled in 2011. His first start of 2012 was “dominant”, but his last two have been “awful”.  It’s odd that a pitcher with such a remarkably consistent thumbprint can inspire such diverse reactions from his fans, based mostly on the vagaries of luck and the random fluctuations of a glorified binomial distribution.

One of my favorite authors once said in an interview that “all writing is autobiography”.  Which, if I understand him correctly, means that what we choose to write about and how we choose to write it says a whole lot more about us than we could ever say about our subject itself.

I still don’t know why I write about Justin Masterson so much.  But every time I look at his line and instinctively reach for my laptop, I have to remember that what I’m about to write is mostly about me—how he’s changed the way I think about the game and how I’m a better analyst and writer for having had him on my team.

There are plenty of players I like on this team.  Vinnie makes me laugh.  Carlos is dripping with talent and potential.  Shelley reminds me that rooting for the underdog feels as good as it always did.

But nobody makes me write like Justin.  And for that, I imagine he’ll always be my favorite.

  • mgbode

    ok, opening day may have been awhile ago, but baseball season is officially back.

    Jon, and no offense to the other guys, but articles like this that seamlessly blend emotion and statistics is why you are my favorite writer here.  Thank you.

  • Ritz

    Masterson also had a pretty darn good second half in 2010. 

    Almost every stat was better: K/BB, ERA, WHIP, Opposing BA and OBP were all much improved.

    So I would say the all-star break in 2010 is a better place to divide the ‘Masterson Epochs’

  • Ritz

    Hit the nail on the head, agreed!

  • WFNYJon

    Thanks guys.

  • BisonDeleSightings

    “He also has the highest beard-to-making-me-laugh-out-loud-for-no-reason ratio”

    So you’re saying he doesn’t make you laugh out loud for no reason?  Or just that his beard massively outweighs the laughing?  I’d think Jairo Asencio or Dan Wheeler, despite their smaller beards, would have a greater beard-to-laugh out loud ratio.


  • WFNYJon

    Would you believe I rewrote that joke to make sense, but didn’t like the way it sounded so I intentionally left it that way? True story.

  • Vindictive_Pat

    We used to run a nerdy joke like this in college… that Wilson-Phillips was pound-for-pound the worst pop band ever.

  • Jon – is there any discernible differenc in his BABIP in those periods?  I’m assuming no, since they weren’t included…but, just wondering.

  • Garry_Owen

    I like stories.

  • Garry_Owen

    That was the precise joke that we made in college about my school’s female to male ratio.  The ratio was 3:1, but we said it was just pound-for-pound.  We were pretty huge jerks.

    And coincidentally, I was also in college when Wilson-Phillips was around (and do I mean “around”! – guess I’m still that jerk).  Man, do I feel old.    

  • kjn

    Great article, as usual.

    My two minute sabermetric evaluation of a pitcher…. If a pitcher is having a surprisingly good/bad year, first look at their K and BB rates to see if they’re out of whack with their past performance. Then, look at their BABIP and HR/FB rate. HR rates for pitchers show large variance year-to-year.

    If you want to spend a third minute, check to see if their velocity has shown signs of increase/decrease.

    That third minute is the only reason I could be a little concerned about Masterson as his velocity has been down rather considerably thus far. Still too early I think to worry. Small sample + early in the season. Lots of guys gain velocity as the season moves on. I also question how dependable single game radar data can be.

  • WFNYJon

    Some for sure, but nothing too overwhelming. I wouldve included it but the mid 2009 team change made combining years a bit difficult.

    Have a look:

  • kjn

    Masterson BABIP’s

    2008- .243
    2009- .314
    2010- .324
    2011- .302
    2012- .288

  • Humboldt

    “all writing is autobiography”.

    Yes Jon, but how can one reconcile this quote with the belief that the author is dead?


  • BisonDeleSightings

    Ubaldo scoffs at Masterson’s drop in velocity.

  • kjn

    Point taken. Though Ubaldo has more pitches to work with. Masterson is fastball, fastball, slider.

  • mgbode

    you have to mix in some GB:FB:LD ratios in there too.  Shows how hard a guy is getting hit.

  • I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘alledgucated’

  • Worth noting that HRs aren’t considered “in play.”

  • BisonDeleSightings


  • Ritz

    Right, thats his best pitch…

    Its a hard sinker, almost more a fastball with late break down.

  • kjn

    I guess we’re getting into semantics, but his sinker is just a two-seam fastball with a lot of downward movement.

    So I guess you can say, “fastball, sinker, slider”. But whatever you want to call the pitch (two-seam fastball or sinker), it still means that 90+% of his pitches need speed- greasy, fast eye-talian speed.

    And for the record, I’m not worried about his diminished speed. I just don’t think Ubaldo is a good comparison since a.) Jimenez throws a variety of pitches and b.) he went from high 90’s to mid 90’s while Masterson would be going from mid/low 90’s to upper 80’s. Of course, doesn’t mean he still couldn’t be effective.

  • kjn

    True. But that would require a 4th minute. I have to work between looking at stats and commenting here, you know.

  • MrCleaveland

     I like “academentia.”

  • mgbode

    so true

  • Ritz

    Exactly, whatever you call it, sinker, fastball, or some made up name like xnxjfejan, it doesn’t matter – its nasty.