Strictly on Merritt

The Cleveland Indians did what I didn't think they could: They beat the Toronto Blue Jays in a LCS without their second and third best starting pitchers (Carlos Carrasco and Danny Salazar). They beat the Jays while getting less than an inning from their No. 4 starter, Trevor Bauer.

And kudos to Terry Francona, who probably cemented his Cooperstown credentials with his bullpen mastery in this series. The Jays have a lineup stacked with power, and the Tribe shut them down even when they had to resort to a rookie lefty with one major league start on his resume. Ryan Merritt was pitching in instructional league when the Indians hurriedly added him to the roster for the LCS after learning of Bauer's injury.

If, as is speculated, Salazar will be ready to work in the World Series, Merritt probably won't be on the Series roster. He may not be anyway. Francona didn't let him work deep enough Wednesday night to get credit for the win -- 4.1 innings -- but Merritt should be a piece of Cleveland legend for years to come anyway.

I'm sure that Francona wouldn't have been nearly so quick with the hook in a regular season game. But this wasn't regular season, and he took advantage of the opportunity to close out the Jays and move on to the World Series.

With the Indians headed to the World Series, new Twins Chief Baseball Officer Derek Falvey's start date will be between Oct. 30-Nov. 3.

— Rhett Bollinger (@RhettBollinger) October 19, 2016

Both metro papers this week carried stories on a theme I wrote soon after Derek Falvey was identified as the next baseball ops boss of the Twins, to take the position after the Indians were done with the postseason: Decisions have to be made in October, and not having Falvey on board is something of an impediment.

As I watched Merritt carve up the Toronto lineup with a mediocre fastball, I wondered: How much credit does Falvey deserve for the effectiveness of the Indians pitching? A major part of his duties as assistant general manager in Cleveland is reportedly pitching preparation. Merritt had to make the pitches, and somebody, probably catcher Roberto Perez, called the individual pitches, but Falvey is apparently key in drawing up the plan.

Then the followup question: Even if he does a brilliant job at that, how does that translate into moving into the big job? What he does now, no matter how well, is not what he's going to be doing in Minnesota. I'm not saying he can't succeed as the boss. I do raise the possibility of the Peter Principle (people rise to the level of their incompetence) coming into play.

In Cleveland, Falvey did certain jobs, and presumably did them very well, In Minnesota, he has to find and hire people to do those jobs. There's a difference,

Pic of the Week

Carlos Santana kisses the pate of manager Terry Francona
before Saturday's playoff game in Cleveland.

Ah, the goofy things players will do before games. (Or during them. Or after them.)

Matching up with Chris Parmelee

Chris Parmelee and Cleveland catcher Van Gomes watch
Parmelee's seventh-inning homer head for the right field seats.

Seventh inning Friday night. Cleveland's Justin Masterson has a 5-3 lead and gets the first two Twins hitters out. But then Justin Morneau singles, goes to second on a passed ball, and scores on a Ryan Doumit single.

With the left-handed Chris Parmelee due up, Cleveland manager Terry Francona goes to his bullpen, but not for a LOOGY. He calls on a righty, Cody Allen.

And Parmelee lofts a fly ball that barely sneaks over the right-field wall. Home run, Twins lead 6-5.

The Twins didn't hold that lead, but I'm still intrigued by Francona's choice of relief pitcher. Why did he defy the platoon approach?

Parmelee's career splits might be one factor. He's been a better hitter against left-handed pitchers (.782 on base plus slugging) than against righties (.738) in his brief major league career. But that's just 380 career plate appearances, which is not enough to declare him the rare exception to the platoon rule.

Allen's platoon splits are even more limited — he has just 42.2 career innings — but they carry a hint of "backwards" platoon splits also. Righties have hit .273 off him; lefties .237. Righties have an OBP of .356; lefties, .318.

But ... all four home runs he's allowed have been to left-handed hitters. Right-handers slug .295 off Allen so far, lefties .461.

Francona knows a lot more about Allen than I do, and it's quite likely that Allen has a particular pitch that Francona believes is effective against left-handed hitters. It's also possible that he's just inconsistent enough with that pitch that he's vulnerable to the long ball with it.

Picking a pitcher on that basis makes more sense to me than picking him off the limited statistical evidence available on Parmelee and Allen.

Around the division: Cleveland Indians

Terry Francona is leaving the ESPN booth for the
dugout in Cleveland.

For a manager with dreams of the Hall of Fame, two World Series wins is borderline, three is a lock.

Terry Francona had one foot in the Hall of Fame — still does, actually — with two World Series titles on his resume. That they came in Boston, where nobody else has won the Series since World War I, is a added selling point.

But he also washed out in Philadelphia, and now he's taken the job in Cleveland, where the Indians barely avoided the worst record in the American League.

It's a family thing, at least in part. Francona's father, Tito, was a standout for the Tribe in the late '50's-early 60s, hitting .363 one season. Terry (also known as Tito) worked briefly in the Cleveland front office between the Philly and Boston jobs and thus has a pre-existing relationship with team president Mark Shapiro and general manager Chris Antonetti.

Still, I'm not sure I see the point for Cleveland in hiring Francona, or for Francona to take the job.

Francona's managerial history — not just in Boston and Philly, but in the minor leagues, where he was the skipper of the Birmingham Barons during the Michael Jordan circus — suggests that his strong suit is dealing with voracious media attention. That's not going to matter much in Cleveland.

I'm not sure where Cleveland's front office and ownership think they are in the cycle. It's a weak division, but it's hardly a set-up-to-win-now situation for Francona, and it's also not a total tear-down in progress.

I would have expected Francona to wait for a better shot at immediate success. I don't think this pairing of man and job is going to work out well for either side.

Contemplating Terry Francona

Tito Francona and Theo Epstein, manager and general manager,
face the media on Thursday, the day after the
Red Sox completed their historic collapse.

Terry Francona managed the Boston Red Sox for eight seasons, winning two World Series in the process. Now he's out.

Fired? Pushed? Walked away? What they're saying for public consumption: Francona was encountering a growing disconnect with his team, which collapsed in stunning fashion last month. He told his superiors Friday morning that might be time for him to go. And after spending the day thinking about it, they agreed.

Which leads me to suspect that the Sox will look for a bit of a bully this time around — somebody who's not going to tolerate pitchers drinking beer during games, somebody who's not going to be as accommodating to egos, somebody less publicly passive.

Such a manager, I think, won't last long in the Fens, nor will he be particularly successful. Boston is a high-pressure environment to begin with. Dropping a high-pressure manager into such an environment is a bit like flipping lighted matches at a gasoline can. Maybe the first one won't ignite it, but eventually ... boom.

Francona was successful for years in Boston because he has a knack for dealing with superstars and their egos.  He was an unknown minor league manager who rose to prominence for dealing with Michael Jordan during the basketball star's flirtation with baseball. He got the job in Philadelphia, didn't win, got fired, got the job in Boston — and won.

Curt Schilling and Manny Ramirez, Pedro Martinez and David Ortiz — lots of talent, lots of quirks. It worked under Francona; it hadn't for other managers.

But there's probably a limit to how long a manager can absorb all the pressure and keep it from tearing at the players — and a time when constantly deflecting criticism results in a lack of accountability.

If in fact the players were abusing the freedom Francona's personality granted them, they may well regret it, and soon.