That’s the headline of this later-than-usual “Jeff Francoeur has figured it all out and is kicking butt and taking names” story from Stan McNeal at the Sporting News. I mean, we’ve come to expect them when Francoeur gets off to his usual fast start following a chance of scenery, but late May is certainly an outlier in terms of the calendar.
That’s especially true considering this one spends the first several paragraphs with “best shape of his life” stuff. Makes me wonder if this wasn’t written in early April and inadvertently posted just now. I dunno, maybe it got caught up in the editing process someplace.
But hey, I always love these, so why not:
He ran every day, two miles and then sprints. Lots of sprints, all by himself, outside the front door of his home in Atlanta. Eighty-yarders, shuttle-runs, gassers. That combined with healthier eating melted off the pounds. Francoeur had reached 237 by the end of last season. By February, he says he was 210. He is playing between 208-210, and the bounce in his step is hard not to notice …
… Besides his improved fitness, Francoeur has refined his approach at the plate under the coaching of Kevin Seitzer. Instead of trying to pull home runs, Francoeur is using right and right-center fields, too. He still has roughly three times as many strikeouts as walks, but he isn’t the free-swinger who went 33 games without walking at the start of his career.
Francoeur had a great April, there’s no denying that. But in May he is hitting .247/.316/.435. For his career he is hitting .269/.311/.430. You tell me whether his great April performance or his May performance is more likely to be replicated as the season wears on. Thing is, he has “returned to form.” Just not in the way McNeal means in the story.
And someone please tell me why Francoeur gets treated differently than every other ~.750 OPS player with some pop, a big swing and a decent platoon split in baseball history.
Emotions are apparently high all around baseball, not just in Miami. In Toronto, the emotion was anger between the Yankees and Blue Jays.
Josh Donaldson was hit by a Luis Severino 1-1, 97 MPH fastball with one out in the bottom of the first inning. In the top of the second, J.A. Happ threw to fastballs back-to-back that were up and in to Chase Headley. The second one hit him. The Yankees, understandably, were not too happy about it, but order was quickly restored and play resumed with home plate umpire Todd Tichenor issuing warnings to both teams. The Yankees would finish the inning without scoring a run.
In the bottom of the second, Severino began the inning with two up and in fastballs at Justin Smoak. Both Severino and manager Joe Girardi were ejected and the benches emptied again, this time with more anger. There was some yelling as well as some pushing and shoving.
It doesn’t appear that Severino appeared to intentionally hit Donaldson, but he very clearly intended to retaliate against Smoak. Happ has issued retaliatory beanballs before in defense of Donaldson. He did so on April 23 against the Athletics. Donaldson hit a home run in the second inning and was hit by a Liam Hendriks pitch in the sixth. Khris Davis led off the next inning for the A’s and Happ hit him with a pitch. Plus, Happ’s two pitches to Headley were both up and in.
Severino and Happ are likely looking at fines. There’s a possibility of suspensions as well. Happ, however, was not ejected from the game.
As expected, the Marlins and Mets paid their respect to pitcher Jose Fernandez prior to the start of Monday night’s game at Marlins Park. It was emotionally charged and very tough to watch without becoming a sobbing mess.
The stadium was as quiet as a library even before the P.A. requested a moment of silence. The Marlins’ players rubbed the chalk line, just as Fernandez used to do. The starters — sans starting pitcher Adam Conley — rallied around the pitchers’ mound. The Mets’ players poured out onto the field and removed their caps as the National Anthem was played.
Once the anthem was completed, the stadium remained quiet. The Mets and Marlins formed lines and went through hugging each player. The fans began chanting, “Jose, Jose, Jose!”
The rest of the Marlins joined the starters and they wrapped around the edge of the dirt on the pitcher’s mound. Some of them drew in the dirt with their fingers. Others rubbed dirt on their pants. Then, they huddled and Giancarlo Stanton gave a motivational speech of sorts. The players came in close and they all put their index fingers in the middle, pointed up at the sky, and broke the huddle to begin the game.
There is crying in baseball.