#eagerly waits for when we know what the heck happened to tommy]

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Then and Now Pt 1

Happy holidays, all! Here’s some holiday cheer, batfamily style. 

For @tajmah

Then 

The grounds of Wayne manor are covered in more snow than Bruce Wayne has ever seen in his entire six-year-old life. It blankets everything, and there isn’t an end in sight. 

When he clicks on the little radio by his bedside, the DJ on WGCR is gabbing away. 

“-Believe all this snow! It’s like the end of the world out there, folks. Stay safe. Stay home. Have a happy holiday.” 

Bruce lights up as he peers at his calendar. A week to Christmas, and Hanukkah already in full swing. 

The tap on his bedroom door makes him turn around, finding his father standing there, looking amused. “Pretty wild, huh, Champ?” Tommy asks, amused. 

“It’s so much snow!” Bruce cries.

 “Yeah,” Tommy chuckles. “It’s a good thing I already had the week off.” He reaches out for his son, nodding towards the door. “C’mon. Alfred’s got a mountain of pancakes waiting for us and your mother is reassuring all of her friends that it’s not a big deal if they cancel all of their party plans.” 

Bruce can’t help a grin; he hates those parties. 

When they get down to the kitchen, Tommy steps over to Martha - who is still on the phone - and kisses her cheek lightly before settling down next to Bruce on a stool at the island. 

“I know it’s disappointing, Mitsy,” Martha says, winking at Bruce. “But clearly God wanted us all to stay home this year. We can still donate to the children’s hospital, after all. We’ll just be doing it in our house slippers.” 

Bruce grins to himself as his mother says goodbye and hangs up, pretending to faint against the wall, the back of her perfectly manicured hand against her forehead.

“Oy!” she cries jokingly. “What will we ever do without a fancy charity Christmas party? How can we donate to charity without the incentive of booze and gossip?” 

“I see the cancelations are going well,” Tommy jokes. 

“I thought Angela Gastire was going to have a nervous breakdown,” Martha tells them as she sits on Bruce’s other side, reaching out to neaten his hair. “Apparently, the Christmas Eve gala’s cancelation is, and I quote: ‘The worst thing that has ever happened.’” 

Tommy gives her a pained expression. “Please tell me you didn’t bring up the Holocaust.” 

“I did not,” Martha smiles sweetly. “Just for you, I held my tongue.” 

Bruce giggles and his mother winks at him again. 

“What do you say, Boychick. It’s just gonna be us for the holidays. That okay?” she asks. 

He nods eagerly as Alfred sets a large stack of pancakes in front of him, and the snow keeps piling up outside. 

*****

 Now

The snow is so thick, he can barely see where he’s going as he swings from one rooftop to the next. 

“This is ridiculous, B,” Batgirl’s voice chitters in her comm. “There’s nothing going on. Nobody can even see in this, let alone do crime.” 

“She’s right, Boss,” Oracle’s voice chimes in. “There is literally nothing going on. There was an attempted robbery the cops took care of an hour ago, and other than that, zilch.” 

“Hnn,” Batman sighs slowly before tapping his comm. “Batman to all operatives: meet at the cave for debrief.” 

A chorus of relieved groans sound off, and he can’t help his lips from twitching into a slight grin.

On the way back to the cave, he pulls up WGCR. “-Worst snowstorm Gotham’s seen in nearly 35 years! Stay safe, everybody.” 

When he gets back to the cave, everyone is gathered around, warming up, as Alfred distributes cups of hot coffee. 

“So that was a little pointless, huh?” Dick asks, grinning. 

“You said it,” Jason complains. “It is too damn cold out there.”

“It’s good that we got a patrol in,” Bruce tells them as he settles into the chair in front of the batcomputer. “We may not get to go again until the snow lets up. And no one is sure when that will be.” 

“So what do we do til then?” Duke asks. 

“Well, it is the holidays,” Bruce says, sitting back. “And it’s been quite some time since all of us have spent time together outside of our costumed responsibilities.” 

“Tell me you’re dressing up as Santa,” Steph begs jokingly. “Please. Please tell me.” 

“Father would never do something so deeply undignified!” Damian cries. “And we do not need the holidays.” 

“Sure we do,” Tim says. “I know I could use a break. And I would not say no to Alfred’s chocolate peppermint cake roll.”

 “I’m sorry, did you say chocolate peppermint cake roll?” Harper perks up.

 “I suppose I could dust off that old recipe,” Alfred beams.

 “Are we really falling for all of his holly jolly bullshit?” Jason asks, a little bewildered. 

“Heck yeah, we are,” Barbara chimes in, shifting her wheelchair over smoothly. “I even left a sourdough starter here that we can use for fresh bread!” 

Bruce grins to himself, and sits back as everyone chatters around him.

[cant-see-sam]

Electric Love pt1

Ok I guess I gotta do something to gain followers

Y/N POV

I never meant to be a mystery, a freak show, I just wanted peace.  For about three years now I have been chased by people in protective suits.  It just so happened that one day at school I blipped out of reality.  I've been isolated ever since.

**Flashback **

'Yet another boring day at middle school.'  I thought as I walked the dull looking halls.  Kids were walking back and  fourth through the corridors.  I spot my friend in the cafeteria.  I call their  name but they don't respond.  A plot pops into my head as I walk up to them.  I slow my pace and attempt to doge all the other kids.  I creep behind them and place my hands on their shoulders.  "Boo!"  They jump really hard and snap their head back to.  "Ow!  What the heck Y/N!"  I roll my eyes and sit down next to them.  "Stop complaining, it didn't hurt that much"  they rub their shoulder.  "No, it felt like an electric shock"  They pull down their sleeve to reveal a red mark spreading across their skin.  "Woah, we should get you to the nurse"  I grab their bag and help them up.  They give a small thanks and start walking.

We get to the nurses office and knock on the door.  A muffled "come in"  rings through.  We walk into the sterile room.  Bright lights shine down on the white floors almost blinding me.  "What can I do for y'all?"  The nurse, Ms. Prior asks.  I came here a lot in sixth grade so we got to know each other well.  We approach the desk and tell her what happened.  She stands up and gets an ice pack for y/f/n while we sit down.  When Ms. Prior walks over she hands my friend the small bag and smiles at them.  She sits back down at her desk and starts typing on her computer.  She takes a small look at me and looks surprised at something.  "Y/N, I thought your eyes were e/c,"  this confused me.  "Yes ma'am, they are, why?"  She simply sighs and hands me a mirror.  I look into it and see an inhumanly gray pair of eyes looking back at me.

We stayed in the nurses office until the bell rang signaling that we were late.  We say goodbye to Ms. Prior as she hands us excuse slips and we make our ways out.  I head into math class while y/f/n goes to science.  I get many stares as I put the small pink slip on the teachers desk and make my way to my seat.  

The day goes on while I try not to touch anyone.  I still bump into people in the halls though.  They seem to almost cry out in pain when I slightly brush them.  I always apologize and try to avoid anyone else.  Afterwards I see them at the office.

'At last, home'  I think as I walk into the familiar building.  I say hi to Gurtude the desk lady.  I walk up a the stairs and pull out my set of apartment keys.  My mom is waiting on the other side when I walk in.  "Y/N,"  she says in a dangerous tone.  "Come here."  I do as she says, afraid of what to come.  "I got a call from your school today, they said that you were hurting kids."  "No, ma'am, they were just accidents". I knew that  it was pointless to argue but I try anyways.  "That many?"  I look down in shame.  I couldn't help it, I always feel a small weight in my chest when I get lectured.  "Look at me when I speak to you"  I look up at her, making eye contact.  She gasps.   "Your not my daughter"  She murmured "W-what?"  I stutter out.  She grabs my chin and starts examining my face.  Her nails dig painfully into my skin. "Mom! It's me! Stop!" I try to get her to stop.  I grab her arm and she shrieks.  She pulls it out of my grasp.  The same red mark that was on y/f/n shoulder was on her wrist.  Tears well up in my eyes when she grabs her phone and taps the buttons that beep three times.  It rings a few times when the person on the other side picks up.  A muffled "nine, one, one, what's your emergency?"  When I heard those words I sprinted out the door.  Down the stairs and out the doors of the apartment.

End of flashback.

Here I am now, three years later,  hiding out in an abandoned house.  I was only thirteen when I left.  It was for the better.  Now I can't hurt anyone else.  I've learned to control the shocks a little more.  I've practiced on myself to control the pain and power of the shock.  I also learned how to shut off the power all together, the only thing that never changes is the horrific color of my eyes.

I was sat down on the floor shocking my arm.  Whenever I did this I would slowly increase the pain.  Starting with the kind of shock that normal people get after going down a slide, to the shock that you feel when you touch an electric wire, to the type where you feel like you got touched by a taser.   I've desensitized myself to it, it doesn't even hurt anymore.

This went on when I heard a pounding on my door.  The men.  I've had to switch my location so many times because of them.  I grab my scuffed up backpack and run to the window.  I open it up and start creeping along the side of the building.  I get to an emergency exit and start climbing down the ladder.  Every time I move I plan out an escape route.  I'm very careful to make sure I always ended up somewhere hidden.  Apparently I wasn't as careful this time because when I reach the small secret ally I planned to hide there were more.  Some dressed in white lab coats, holding clipboards, looking up at me eagerly.  Others were dressed in protective armor and helmets.  One person caught my eye though, a young boy dressed in jeans and a green collared shirt with a lab coat on the outside.  He seemed to be my age, when we made eye contact the world around me seemed to freeze.  'No' I think.  'You can't be distracted by another thing right now'  I snap out of my thoughts and hop down cautiously.  Everyone just stares at me, not knowing what to do.  

A small smile creeps on my face as a plan forms in my head.  I tilt it to the side, to look like I was surveying them.  "Hey!  Good to see you guys again"  I say in a way that I was sure to catch them off guard.  'Now!'  I think, sprinting out of the small alleyway.  Into the streets.  I follow where my feet take me and keep running.  I start to slow down after a while.  I've lost them.  Or at least that's what I thought until a hand grabs my arm.

My head snaps around to be met with a pair of sorrowful blue eyes.  It's the same kid from before. I wanted to shock him but I couldn't find the strength in me to do it.  Something inside me stops me from doing it.  I look down in his other hand and see a small syringe with a clear liquid inside.  A tranquilizer.  "Please don't do this." I whisper.  "I'm sorry"  he whispers back.  His voice is calm but frantic at the same time.  He has a smooth British accent that calms me down in a way.  He slowly lifts the needle up to my neck.  I try to wiggle my arm out of his grasp.  But it's no use, it's too tight.  I feel a small pinch in my neck as he pushes the liquid in.  I hear voices from behind us.  The kid talks to me as the world starts to spin.  I stop resisting and turn to meet him all the way.  He puts the syringe in his pocket and holds my other arm, keeping me steady.  The last thing I hear before I black out was another voice saying.  "Good job Toby!"

Toby's POV.  A few hours earlier.

My best friend runs through the halls of the foundation his lab coat flying behind him.  His blonde hair is messy and he looks exited.  "Toby!"  he runs up to me and bends over to catch his breath.  "Wil- Wilbur wants you in the garage.  He-"  he pants, trying to finish his sentence.  "He says he has something he wants you to see."  I put my arm on his shoulder.  "go get some water Tommy, I'll go see what he wants."  he nods and runs off into the break room.  I go in the opposite direction.

The garage is a big open room with vans lined up in a neat row.  On the side there are cages for the more dangerous SCPs.  Wilbur is leaning up against a medium sized van.  "Toby, your finally here, did Tommy tell you why your here?"  I shook my head.   "No"  He sighs,  "of course.  Get in the van, I'll explain on the way."   He opens the door to the drivers seat and I get into the passengers.

Wilbur keeps his eyes on the two vans in front of us as he speaks.  "Okay, so, you read the papers on T- 4350, right?"  "Yeah"  T - 4350 is a humanoid who has electric properties.  We don't know too much about it.  Just that every time we are about to catch it, it always finds a way out.  Granted, we would always have too little security.  "Well," Wilbur continues "We got a call talking about someone matching it's description."  "And how do I fit into all this?"  Wilbur taps fingers on the wheel.  "From what we've gathered it seems to be your age.  We thought you, being the calmest of our two juniors, can help distract it."  "Ah"  I guess I'm doing this.

After a few hours we pull up to an abandoned building near the side of the highway.  It looks like it was falling apart.  With rotting wood and some missing bricks.  Definitely the perfect place for someone trying to hide.  We hop out of the van and walk up to the security guards waiting by the side of the building.  We determined that me, Wilbur and the other scientists will wait with some guards at the point where we estimate it uses to come and go while everyone else goes into the apartment.

We wait in the dusty ally for the SCP to be flushed out.  I'm looking around and fiddling with my lab coat when Wilbur taps my arm.  "Look!"  I look to where he's pointing and see a girl climbing down the ladder.  She has a black backpack with some patches hanging off.  Her t-shirt,  jeans and beat up high tops seem ratty.  As she climbs down I take note of her y/h/c pulled back into a high ponytail.  She looks behind her and sees us.  Me, to be exact.  Her eyes are a piercing gray.  She looks scared, dazed, almost.  I couldn't imagine being her, running away from her problems at such a young age.  She steps off the ladder.  A calm demeanor taking over her face.  She breaks a small grin while she looks around at us.  "Hey!  Good to see you guys again!"  She says.  I look at Wilbur.  He seems shocked.

 While we all stare at her I understand what she's trying to do.  I slowly take the pack of tranquilizers from Wilbur's pocket.  I take a syringe from the box.  All of a sudden she takes off running.  I chase after her.  My feet hit the cement hard as I run.  Without thinking I reach out and grab her arm.  She turns to me.  She looks even more beautiful up close.  She sounds terrified when she whispers, "please don't do this."  It almost pains me to respond.  "I'm sorry"  I move my hand up, holding the tranquilizer up to her neck.  Just as it touches her skin she starts to pull her arm.  I keep my grip on her tight though, it's for the best.  I'm surprised she hasn't shocked me yet.  I push the plunger down.  Almost instantly, she starts to calm down.  Facing me fully, she grabs my other arm. I keep my hands under her elbows.  For a second I thought she was going to hurt me but I figured she was too weak to do so.  Instead, she puts all her weight on me.  She almost falls when I hear Wilbur speak behind me.  "Good job Toby!"

Wilbur grabs her from my arms and carries her to one of the cages.  We load her into the van and drive back to the foundation.

Y/N's POV

The first thing I feel when I wake up is a pounding headache.  The blinding lights above me don't help.  I sit up in the small bed I'm laying in and look around.  The first thing I noticed was a giant window. It took up a whole chunk of the wall.  Next to the bed is a small table with drawers.  Theres a table in front of me and a sink to my right.  I do notice a door on the far side of the room. I'm still in my clothes from before.  I throw my legs across the bed and stand up to look for a way out.  I run my hands along the walls.

I continue doing so until I hear a click and a hiss coming from the wall with the door.  I frantically search for what I did until I hear a deep voice coming from behind me.  "Hello 4350, I'm Eret.  I wouldn't try looking for a way out, there is none."  I turn around.  "Okay, first off what did you call me? And second, back the frick up."  He nods head and comes closer.  "Ah, you have some sass.  We can fix that." I put my hand up to seem like I will do something.  I've experimented with my lightning, but never mastered it.  "I said, back up"  even closer.  I try to concentrate all my energy to my hand.  All of a sudden a bright light explodes from my it.  Yes!  I wasn't trying to hurt him, just rock his boat a little.  The light is cut short.

 I see the man, Eret, I think it was.  I saw Eret standing in front of me, unfazed.  He twitches his head and two guards storm the room.  They grab my arms.  Eret walks closer to me and sticks his finger under my chin.  "You won't try that again, do you understand me?"  I don't respond, just tilt my head down and try to bite him.  He pulls his finger away and laughs.  "I'll get something out of you soon sweetheart."  He walks out, his hands behind his back.  The guards walk out soon after him.

For the next few weeks many doctors come in to ask me questions.  Some stay where they are, others get too close for comfort, ending with them getting a small shock.  Not enough to leave a mark, just a warning.  I could tell I was beating them down.  I might have a chance of escaping.

The days were mostly the same, wake up, get served my "breakfast", if you could even call it that.  Next some doctors would come in and ask me questions.  I try to keep it as vague as possible, just to tick them off.  They would try at that for a while, until they realize that it was futile.  I got lunch and dinner somewhere in between all that.  It was like that.  Day, after day, after day.  But today, instead of sending in some doctors they sent in the boy from before, and another.

"Hey,"  the brunette said in a soft voice.  I can feel myself shrink back against the wall.  I got that feeling, the one I had when I first got caught.  Like I wasn't, no, couldn't hurt him.  "Hey, it's me, do you remember me?  I'm Toby, this is my friend Tommy,"  he points to the blonde behind him.  He gives an awkward wave.  I giggle softly at his actions.  "Yeah, that's it.  we're not going to hurt you"  I look back at Toby.  "That's what they all say"  He laughs at this.  "Yeah, I know, I've seen."  He takes a step closer.  Keeping eye contact with me.  When he sees that I don't react he steps even closer.  I thought he was going to come even closer, but he just sits down.  He look back at Tommy and waves him over.  When he sits down next to Toby I slide down the wall.  "Can you tell us about yourself?"  I nod my head.  "Good, what's your name?"  His soft tone convinces me to talk.  "Y/N"  he smiles.  "That's a beautiful name, how old are you?"  "Sixteen,"  his smile gets even wider.  "Same, can you tell us when you ran away?"  "Three years ago"  he nods his head.  "That was very brave, why did you do it?"  "My mom called the cops on me"  "I'm so sorry"

Everyday Toby and Tommy come in.  Everyday they would get a little closer.  And everyday, I let them.  I knew that they wouldn't hurt me.  I trusted them.  We got so far that we shared a group hug.  They have truly became my best friends in this period.  Toby would stay a little longer than Tommy though.  Sometimes he would even be there until I fell asleep in the bed.  Sometimes he would sneak me some food from the lounge.  He makes being here livable.  Not nice, no, never nice, but livable.

One morning I woke up to Eret in my room.  I immediately sat up.  "What are you doing here?"  He chuckles.  "Come with me"  I rolled my eyes and followed him.  Bad idea.  When I walk outside my cell I get swarmed by guards.  I can tell this isn't good.  I'm walked to a bigger room where I'm strapped down on a table.  "What's going on?"  I'm being hooked up to all these machines.  A doctor grabs my arm.  I try to shock them but they don't react.  Stupid protective suits.  The doctor hold my wrist down while he sticks a needle in.  He squeezes the bag it's attached to and I start to feel woozy.  The last thing I see is Eret standing above me.  "Goodnight Y/N"

Toby's POV

Tommy and I walk through the halls over to Y/N's cell.  We've made so much progress with her.  I just can't understand that feeling I get in my stomach when I talk to her.  It feels like my heart just flutters.

I walk past the other cells and over to hers.  I feel the snickers bar in my pocket hit my leg while I walked.  It was her favorite.  I brought her one every morning.  I see Tommy run past me.  He stops at her cell and yells my name.  "Toby, you might want to come see this!"  I pick up my pace and make my way to her cell.  I look through the window.  It was empty.  "No way"  I walk into decontamination and into her room.  "Y/N!?"  "It isn't here"  I hear a deep voice behind me.  Eret's voice.  I  turn around.  "What did you do to her?"  "It, Toby, it"   I feel anger bubble up inside me.  I see Tommy walk in.  Eret spins around to see him.  "Ah, perfect.  Boys, I will need you to come with me."  He says calmly.  "Not before you tell me where she is."  He laughs.  "IT.  You've gotten too attached to it"  

We follow Eret through the foundation.  We are led to a room without cameras.  Guards force us sit down and makes sure we stay down.  Eret walks to the side of the room.  He grabs a small syringe with a purple liquid in it.  "I'm so sorry it had to be like this boys, but it must be done."   He walks up to Tommy.  He uses his hand to push his head up.  "Eret?  What is that?"  Tommy asks frantically.  "Just some memory serum, don't worry though, you won't remember a thing"

He comes to me next.  I feel tears well up in my eyes.  "Eret!  How could you?  I've worked with you for hours!"  He sighs and pushes my head to the side.  "It was never meant to be"  he pushes the plunger and my mind went blank...

[junker-town]

The Cardinals are awful, the Dodgers are the best, and other PECOTA projections

Baseball Prospectus’ projections did pretty well last year, and they’re as quirky and fun as ever.

Once a year, in February, the PECOTA groundhog emerges from its hole and gives us projections. It’s up to us to determine if there are six more weeks of winter, or if the projections can keep us warm until the spring training games start. It’s more than a little sad to wait for them this eagerly, but you should be used to February by now. It’s an awful baseball time, and I’ll take what I can get.

Baseball Prospectus creates fancy projections, then they plug them into the projection blender, and projected standings come out the other side. Last year, they projected the National League postseason teams to be the Mets, Nationals, Cubs, Giants, and Dodgers. Which is what happened. Don’t look at the American League. The AL is always a mess for everyone. But you can pan for nuggets with these projections. They’re imperfect, but usually better than your dumb predictions.

The 2017 projections are out, and we have projected standings. With these simulated standings, I have actual thoughts. Here are some of those thoughts:

The Cardinals are going to be ... bad?

In Dave Barry Slept Here: A Sort-Of History of the United States, the author has a running gag where he writes “This was widely believed to be the end of his career” after every Richard Nixon mention. Project the Cardinals to be awful and finished at your own peril.

Also, take a moment to breathe that Nixon/Cardinals comparison in for a little bit. Mmm, yeah, that is invigorating.

The Cardinals aren’t just projected to be in third place; they’re projected to finish with the same record as the Braves and White Sox. They’re just a game over the Phillies and A’s. A mediocre projection would be a refreshing adjustment, but they’re supposed to be outscored by nearly 50 runs on the season.

The problem? There’s no real star in the lineup, for one, with Matt Carpenter’s bat looking a little less valuable when he’s matched up with Paul Goldschmidt instead of David Freese, positionally. They look like they’ll have troubles getting on base, with only Carpenter and Dexter Fowler projecting for an OBP better than .331, and they don’t have the power to make up for that.

Also, PECOTA is extremely bearish on the rotation, with ERAs all in the 4s and Mike Leake (!) leading the staff in WAR. I’ll take the over on Carlos Martinez, Alex Reyes, and, well, all of them. But for whatever reason, the computers are spitting on the lineup and rotation, even though we know that Dask Underbrow will come up from Double-A and slug .500 this year, if he doesn’t pick up 17 wins. He might do both. Don’t sell the Cardinals or Dask short.

The Rays should contend

The Rays are always hanging around, neither contending or rebuilding, tinkering with spare junkyard parts in the basement of baseball. They traded Logan Forsythe, but they traded him for a majors-ready pitcher. They avoided most of the free agents, as usual, but they signed Colby Rasmus to help win in 2017. They’re a quantum superposition of a baseball team, and they’ll probably finish with 70 or 80 wins, neither in or out of it.

PECOTA has them making the postseason, though. Or, at least, the playoff game to see who makes the postseason. It doesn’t sound exciting, but it’s a step up from last season. It wouldn’t take much, apparently, for them to challenge for the AL East, even though they might have traded their best position player away.

The secret is in not having a secret. Kevin Kiermaier is projected to be a defensive deity again, and Chris Archer and Evan Longoria are still supposed to be excellent. After that, though, they’re stocked with solid players, up and down the roster, from the lineup to the bench to the rotation to the bullpen. Blake Snell blends into Alex Cobb, who blends into Nick Franklin, who blends into Brad Miller.

It doesn’t add up to a 90-win division favorite, and there’s risk in spreading everything around in an even, boring way. But they should keep your attention.

The Orioles are almost projected to be the worst team in the AL?

They’re almost the worst team in baseball, just a couple wins better than the Padres, who are filling their rotation via a reality show on Freeform. It’s one thing for the Blue Jays to get dinged in the projections and slip back to .500, considering they lost one of their best hitters. But the Orioles are projected to go from 89 wins to 89 losses, even though they didn’t really change a whole lot.

Let’s go through a list of players PECOTA hates!

J.J. Hardy

Welington Castillo

Hyun-soo Kim

Ubaldo Jimenez

Dylan Bundy

Chris Tillman

Chris Tillman?

Especially Chris Tillman for some reason

Tillman has an ERA+ of 108 over the last four years, including a 118 mark last year. He’s also performed better than his FIP suggests, though, and apparently PECOTA sees some speed bumps ahead. And one of those speed bumps is apparently Chris Tillman.

Regardless of that dire, second-half-fueled projection, the Orioles are supposed to have troubles pitching, which we might have guessed, and PECOTA isn’t expecting them to get a lot of help from anyone who isn’t Adam Jones or Manny Machado. Zach Britton is a) projected to be one of the best relievers in baseball and b) mortal, which is both the same and different from last year.

I’ll take the over on the Orioles and this projection. But danged if it’s not making me reconsider my preseason predictions. What does that computer know?

The Dodgers are the class of baseball

Well, not the class of baseball. Have you heard Tommy Lasorda tell a story? He’s a repugnant human being, and now Vin Scully isn’t around to balance him out. But the Dodgers are PECOTA’s absolute darlings, and it isn’t even close. They aren’t just projected to win the NL West; they’re projected to blow through it. They aren’t just projected to have the best record in baseball; they’re projected to be five games better than the second-best team, and seven games better than last year’s juggernaut, the Cubs.

A reminder of the Dodgers’ biggest moves this offseason:

Trading for Logan Forsythe

Keep everyone else

Forsythe is a good player, but he isn’t an MVP candidate, so it seems odd that the Dodgers are suddenly expected to improve by a bunch. Until you see who’s getting the boost, that is. Julio Urias, Corey Seager, Joc Pederson, and even Yasiel Puig are getting some PECOTA love, which makes sense when you remember how young they all are. Clayton Kershaw is supposed to be roughly twice as valuable as your standard good pitcher, which is a heckuva head start, and the rest of the rotation is supposed to be above-average or better.

The Dodgers are the best example of the cumulative effect of PECOTA’s projections. It’s not like Kershaw is projected for 17 WARP and, blammo, there’s the difference. It adds up, player over player, and not just for the 25-man roster. The whole organization chips in a little value over a handful of at-bats or innings pitched, right down the line. Are they really that much better than the Cubs? Seems hard to say that definitively. But they’re definitely one of the best teams in baseball, and considering that most of us knew that already, it shouldn’t be that surprising.

There might be one division race worth watching this year

Oh, it probably won’t happen quite like this. We’ll look up in August and, what the heck, the Phillies will be four games back, or some nonsense. The Cardinals will be on their way to 95 wins, just like the Cubs, and we’ll forget all about the preseason projections.

As of now, though, here are the margins of projected victory for the first-place team in every division:

AL East - Six games AL Central - Eight games AL West - Six games

NL East - One game NL Central - 10 games NL West - Eight games

It’s almost exciting to root for wild card races. Almost. But give me the visceral thrill of a close divisional race, with teams that hate each other after 18 games. And it’s worth remembering that a six-game difference can be a three-game difference in August with a different feel, with exciting series and results that mean something.

Still, on the final day of the season, the computers are telling us that we’ll need to pay attention to the Mets and Nationals, but very little else. That’s a shame.

Disappointed in your team’s projections? Note that PECOTA missed the Rangers last year, and they projected the Rays and Astros to win their respective divisions. The Blue Jays were supposed to lead the world in runs scored, and the Orioles were supposed to lead the world in runs allowed. Baseball is a twitchy clown with a nervous grin, and that’s why we love it and fear it. It’ll surprise us. It’ll surprise the computers.

Until then, look at these projections. This was widely believed to be the end of the Cardinals’ decades-long run of success.

You won’t have the Cardinals to kick around anymore.