That's More Like It

Last night’s 8-3 White Sox win over the Indians was sweet indeed, eliminating the Tribe from a shot at the Central Division crown.  And hats off to Ross Detwiler, who climbed off the scrap heep to pitch five effective innings for the victory.

Most of all, a tip of the cap to the Minister of Fun, Sox shortstop Tim Anderson, who went 4 for 5 with two runs scored.  Anderson  leads the majors with a .339 BA, which just happens to be 99 points better than what he hit last year.  What happened over the course of a year?

The answer, in part, is that Anderson doesn’t try to pull everything.  Now, he’s consistently taking pitches to right field, beating the shift time after time.  Anderson’s also waiting back on balls better than he ever has.  So, if we know what Anderson’s done, the question then becomes, how did he accomplish it?

Start with the player—Anderson wanted to change.  All too often, players are too stubborn or wed to a certain approach to consider changing.  Not Anderson, and I just hope he preaches this openness to new approaches to his teammates.  Now, for another question:  who helped him?

TV cameras are forever showing Anderson talking to hitting coach Todd Steverson, which implies a student-teacher relationship.  If that’s the case, none of the sportswriters has picked up on it.  As someone who’s studied hitting to help further his daughter’s career, I’m curious what, if anything, Steverson has done to help Anderson make adjustments.  I don’t mean to sound skeptical, and I admit to not being a big Todd Steverson fan.  But maybe I’m wrong.  It does happen on occasion.

What I do know is Anderson is hitting the cover off the ball; ditto Yoan Moncada.  Last season, Moncada hit an anemic .235.  This year he’s up to .313 while cutting back on his strikeouts from an egregious 217 to a nearly tolerable 151.  What or who happened to cause a change here?  Was it the shift from second to third base, the intercessions of Todd Steverson or a combination of factors?  If only beat writers cared to find out.

The same set of questions holds for rookie outfielder Eloy Jimenez, who’s gone from clueless to clued over the last six weeks or so.  Jimenez has raised his batting average to .267 to go with 30 homers and 77 RBIs.  What happened to the rookie who kept lunging at balls low and outside or swinging at pitches up in his eyes?  I’m ecstatic that version of Jimenez is gone, I and want to know how it happened.

Just in case I end up with some grandkids to coach.