SABR members have a perhaps unfair reputation of possessing a nerdy quality, and Thursday's largely white, male, and casually dressed crowd did little to dispel that stereotype.

- Tim Lemke, Washington Times

Let's make one thing perfectly clear right away: There's absolutely nothing "perhaps unfair" about SABR members having a reputation for "possessing a nerdy quality" unless you also believe that it would be unfair to suggest that, say, NBA players have a reputation for being really tall. We're definitely "largely white, male, and casually dressed" and you can also throw in nerdy, fat, pale, and four-eyed to describe many of us (or at least me). And once a year we all get together and have one hell of a good time.

Back in 2004, after attending my first Society for American Baseball Research convention in Cincinnati, I described the experience as "like having a high school or college reunion with a bunch of guys you've never actually met." At the time I was actually still in college, but in the five years since then I've traveled to Toronto, Seattle, St. Louis, Cleveland, and last week Washington, D.C. to hang out with some of my favorite people in the world and dispel zero stereotypes.

The basic story never really changes. We convene at a hotel in some MLB city, spend five days drinking and eating and talking baseball and going to a game, retreat to our respective hometowns for the next 360 days, and then do it all over again. SABR as a whole has as many as 1,000 members attend each convention, but my subgroup of degenerates usually numbers around 25 or so, with a lot of the same faces and a handful of new guys joining us each year.

We know each other from Baseball Think Factory, The Hardball Times, fantasy leagues, blogging, and various other nerd-based endeavors, and while the convention's assorted research presentations and panel discussions always prove very interesting the whole idea of the get-together for me at least is to provide an excuse for everyone to assemble in one spot long enough to ruin our livers, goof on each other, and argue about the best left-handed relief pitcher of all time (my vote: Billy Wagner).

This year was no different, as I was drinking beer and making bets about who was fatter with a dozen SABR members at a bar called the Elephant and Castle within 30 minutes of my Wednesday afternoon flight landing in Washington. Our group quickly expanded to a couple dozen people, and once that bar closed we headed to another place called Harry's for further refreshments and the absolute worst chili cheese fries in the history of mankind (we cleaned the plate, of course).

(I'm the good looking one.)
There was a full slate of presentations Thursday, so I woke up at the crack of noon to see Tom Herlich shed light on Tom Cheney's forgotten 21-strikeout game, Anthony Giacalone discuss how the great depression impacted baseball in the 1960s, Vince Gennaro examine the impact of defense on pitcher usage, Mike Emeigh highlight evolution of bullpen roles, Dave Smith debunk the idea that pitchers are worse after running the bases, and Pat Kilgo look into position players fatiguing during games.

(Emeigh's presentation on bullpen roles.)
Kilgo began his presentation by informing the audience that he was in the minority because he actually likes Tim McCarver, whom he quoted regarding catchers fatiguing, and then 20 minutes later finished the presentation with a list of "conclusions" that began: "1) Tim McCarver is mostly wrong." In the world of baseball research, we call that passing the smell test. Incidentally, Herlich's well-done look at the record-setting 21-strikeout game ended up winning presentation of the year.

(In addition to learning about baseball, I caught up on politics via the hotel bar television.)
After remaining in the hotel bar until they literally began locking up Thursday night I headed downstairs to join a 25-cent/50-cent poker game and proceeded to win $60 in about 90 minutes despite basically check-calling the flop and turn before value betting the river on every hand. I'm apparently the only poker player in the world who gets more conservative after a half-dozen beers and could've won $100 or so if my roommate Matt Rauseo didn't keep folding two-pair to me on the river. Also, he snores. A lot.

(My roommate and his lover.)
Friday's presentation slate included a pair of talks from THT staffers, as Steve Treder examined which farm systems have produced the most talent during the past 50 years and Chris Jaffe profiled Charlie Comiskey. Jaffe has written a book about baseball managers that's due out this winter, so his look at Comiskey was sort of a preview, and Treder's research got me thinking about ways to tailor that study specifically to Twins history. Both were very good, and in fact nearly every presentation I saw was solid.

Lunch back at the Elephant and Castle followed, after which I rode to Baltimore for the Orioles-Red Sox game with Giacalone, Mike Webber, and Joe Dimino. They're three of my oldest SABR friends and we had such a good time shooting the shit that three hours in bumper-to-bumper traffic and being yelled at in a McDonald's bathroom by a guy in a wheelchair didn't seem so bad. The group in Larry Mahnken's car only had to stomach a few minutes in traffic, because he crashed and they went back to the hotel.

(Mahnken's car, presumably after the accident.)
I'd never been to Camden Yards before, so that was pretty great. Beautiful weather, decent seats in the right-field bleachers, a whole bunch of Yuengling lager, a great game, and no giant white roof. The only bad part was the fact that Red Sox fans accounted for at least half and probably closer to two-thirds of the sellout crowd, including the obnoxious idiot in a Carlton Fisk throwback jersey sitting directly to my right who gave David Ortiz a standing ovation before every at-bat (also known as my roommate).

(The view from directly behind me at Camden Yards.)
The ride back to the hotel thankfully lasted just 45 minutes and we immediately crammed into the hotel bar for a few drinks before heading out in search of cheaper alcohol. That led us first to a bar that was announcing last call as we arrived and then to a pool hall/strip club hybrid that seemed to be filled with guys waiting for their girlfriends' shifts to end. Three members of the booze search party called it quits at that point, but not Jay Jaffe's lovely wife. She's from Wisconsin and actually likes his mustache.

(Nine drunk dudes and the woman who tolerated them for a while.)
After several pitchers of beer and some awful bar food we decided it would be a good idea to finish the night with shots, but when a couple people changed their mind I ended up downing my Jagermeister and their vodka before beginning the eight-block trek back to the hotel. As you can see by my face in the picture below the decision-making involved in that process was probably lacking. In fact, I'm told that at one point I actually tried to trade Matt Garza and Jason Bartlett for Delmon Young.

(Jagermeister + vodka + walking = my face.)
I decided to skip the annual Saturday luncheon for the first time in six conventions and instead went for sushi with a big group. After that a handful of us went to the National Mall where tourists into seeing the Washington Monument and Capitol were also treated to the sight of SABR members playing catch. Dinner at Chef Geoff's followed, where we had a group of over 25 people and got into a discussion about the possibility of a non-geographical SABR chapter based around Baseball Think Factory.

(Dial putting on a show for the tourists.)
Chris Dial and Paul Brewer pitched that idea to the SABR board of directors the next morning, but not before we bought a bunch of alcohol, mixers, and foam cups at a liquor store and set up a bar in the bathroom of my hotel room. At one point I counted 24 people in what couldn't have been more than 200 square feet, yet miraculously security never came as folks cycled through all night. More miraculously, at one point there were two women in the room, which is believed to be a first for any SABR convention.

(Believe it or not, this photo was taken before we started drinking in my hotel room.)
As you can clearly see from the above pictures "possessing a nerdy quality" and "largely white, male, and casually dressed" are putting it kindly and I'm certainly not helping to dispel those stereotypes (or bring down the group's average weight), but in six trips to the SABR convention I've yet to have anything less than a spectacular time and I'm already looking forward to everyone getting together in Atlanta next summer.

(Pimpin' ain't easy.)

Despite weeks of rumor-filled newspaper reports and speculation-fueled blog entries about all sorts of potential deals, as usual the trade deadline came and went Friday afternoon without the Twins making a significant move. Even the minor swap that they did make--acquiring Orlando Cabrera from the A's for last year's second-round pick and 32nd-ranked prospect Tyler Ladendorf--was seemingly done as much to appease the frustrated clubhouse and ornery fan base as to actually improve the team.

Or put another way, acquiring Cabrera certainly qualifies as doing something and that alone might be enough to take some of the air out of public complaints from Joe Mauer and Justin Morneau or muzzle the average talk-radio caller, but adding a 34-year-old shortstop with declining range who was batting .280/.318/.365 through 101 games this season, hit .281/.334/.371 last year, and hasn't posted even a .750 OPS since 2003 is unlikely to tip the scales regardless of how weak the division continues to be.

As noted in this space last week when reports first linked the Twins to Cabrera, he's likely an upgrade. However, that upgrade is small and the fact that a shortstop with a rapidly deteriorating glove and .680 OPS can make the team slightly better is an indictment of the people assembling the roster far more than it's a sign that those same people are capable of and willing to improve on the fly. Ron Gardenhire predictably slotting Cabrera into the lineup's No. 2 spot makes the whole thing even less helpful.

Trading for two months of a thoroughly mediocre Cabrera and sticking his measly .322 career on-base percentage in front of Mauer and Morneau is like handing someone trapped in the desert one glass of water and then walking away. Better than nothing? Absolutely. Doing something that you can point to as improving the situation? Sure. But in the grand scheme of things, useless. One glass of water won't get anyone out of a desert and one mediocre shortstop won't get the Twins ... well, anything.

Making a huge, franchise-altering trade at midseason is more often than not a mistake, because the impact of even a star player for just a couple months is usually overstated and contenders are typically forced to pay a premium to improve on the fly. However, for years now the Twins have tried to sell the notion that even minor deals to add solid players and patch obvious holes are nearly impossible to pull off without raiding the farm system. Here's an excerpt from LaVelle E. Neal III's post-deadline recap:

Cabrera was one of several players the Twins inquired about before the deadline. ... The Twins pushed for relief pitching but found the price too steep. Teams requested top prospects in outfielder Ben Revere, catcher Wilson Ramos and third baseman Danny Valencia, but the Twins elected to hold onto them.

San Diego wanted four top prospects from the Twins for reliever Heath Bell. Oakland wanted a couple of top prospects for reliever Michael Wuertz. The Twins also spoke with Arizona about reliever Jon Rauch, but talks didn't get far. ... They also engaged the Orioles about lefthander George Sherrill before he was dealt to the Dodgers.

"It was a tough market for relievers," Twins General Manager Bill Smith said. "There were a lot of conversations. In the end we couldn't get it done."

I'm sure that LEN3 is just passing along information from his various sources within the organization, but some of that stuff should insult the intelligence of any fan with a pulse. We're expected to believe that the Twins just couldn't acquire a reliever because "teams requested top prospects" Ben Revere, Wilson Ramos, and Danny Valencia? Really, the Twins couldn't get a decent setup man because they "elected to hold onto" their top-five prospects? In what universe is that the cost of a middle reliever?

Certainly not this universe, where solid setup men like Cla Meredith, Rafael Betancourt, Joe Beimel, Tony Pena, and John Grabow changed hands for little more than a mid-level prospect or two and a bit of cash. Yet somehow we're supposed to accept that when the Twins asked for those types of guys the only names brought up by the other side were top-notch prospects like Revere, Valencia, and Ramos. After all, according to Bill Smith "it was a tough market for relievers."

Meanwhile, the two teams ahead of the Twins in the division swung trades for Jake Peavy and Jarrod Washburn, plenty of viable setup men changed teams for nowhere near the prices that Smith would have you believe, and several useful hitters were also swapped for modest returns. I'd never blame the Twins for failing to make a huge splash at the trading deadline, but fans have every right to expect the front office to address obvious weaknesses and they've shown zero ability to do that.

Late-inning bullpen options have been an issue since Pat Neshek went down 15 months ago and the middle infield has been a major problem since Smith misguidedly gave away Jason Bartlett just after taking over as general manager, and regardless of the Twins' attempts to spin the situation those clear weaknesses could have been addressed without sacrificing elite prospects or piles of money. Instead we get the same old quotes about sky-high asking prices and the same old flaws aren't addressed.

The bullpen has lacked a quality setup men for going on two years now, yet the team continues to trot out guys like Bobby Keppel, R.A. Dickey, and Jesse Crain after previously burning through Luis Ayala, Sean Henn, Brian Bass, and a washed-up Eddie Guardado. The middle infield has been the worst in baseball this season and a problem for much of this decade, yet bringing in a declining mediocrity like Cabrera while simply shifting Nick Punto to a different position is their sorry excuse for an answer.

Perhaps the Twins will be lucky and Cabrera can put together a strong two months or perhaps they can win the incredibly weak division even if he doesn't, but they failed to improve in any sort of meaningful way at the trading deadline and anyone trying to sell the idea that asking prices for every decent player being through the roof was to blame is insulting your intelligence. A few mid-level prospects and a few million bucks would've gotten the Twins a new middle infield and a new setup man. That's an upgrade.

Instead the Twins made one ultimately meaningless deal that still leaves them trotting out either Punto or Alexi Casilla at second base every day alongside a different mediocre shortstop and will continue to hand the ball to overmatched relievers in key spots down the stretch. Toss in a rotation that appears to be coming apart at the seams and this is a team that would have no business contending for a playoff spot if not for the AL Central boasting zero teams on pace for more than 85 wins.