Announcers usually call Okajima a “deceptive” pitcher, partially because of his oddball delivery—which, as you know if you’ve ever watched any nationally broadcast Red Sox games over the past year, involves a crazy head-dip that just sends Joe Morgan, Joe Buck, Tim McCarver, and Jon Miller into a veritable tizzy.

But there’s another deceptive aspect about him this season—his numbers.

Yesterday, I was watching the game at the gym when bench coach Brad Mills, acting in Terry Francona’s stead, brought Okajima in with the bases loaded and two out. I wondered at this, since Okajima has allowed so many inherited runners to score already this season. In fact, I more than wondered. I lamented. Out loud, right there on the elliptical machine, in front of everyone. And lo and behold, on the second pitch of his outing, Okie gave up a grand slam and, consequently, the lead.

Bizarrely, Boston has continued to use Okajima in these sorts of situations even though he has struggled in them pretty much all year. He comes in, lets everyone else’s runners score, and then promptly gets out of the inning. But of course, due to the wacky rules of earned runs, his 0.93 ERA does not reflect these struggles.

He’s had 14 inherited runners to deal with this season—already half as many as he dealt with in all of last season. Eleven of the 14 have scored. That’s the worst mark in the majors. (Last year, just 4 of the 28 inherited runners scored.) Yet his stats are all pretty much in line with last year’s performance—and in several cases, this year’s numbers actually look better. The one exception? He’s giving up more flyballs:

Disturbingly, that freakishly low BABIP suggests to me that the situation should, by rights, be even worse. [Shudder]

So have hitters finally figured him out? Is the deceptive delivery no longer deceiving anyone? I don’t think you can say that, based on his performance or on his numbers, though that is clearly the worry in the Hub today. The fact is that after Okajima lets those inherited runners score, he promptly goes back to being a badass. Guys don’t have WHIPs of 0.88 when they’ve been figured out. If Okajima’s secret had been discovered, why would his batting average skyrocket from .143 when he’s leading off the inning to .280 when there are runners on? Why would the first batter he faces reach—as has happened in 7 of 18 chances (hat tip to Nick Cafardo)—and the rest go down quietly? If opposing hitters had really figured him out, wouldn’t they be lighting him up across the board? It doesn’t make sense.

I’m not sure what’s wrong with Okajima and his okie dokie, or why the problem only seems to happen with runners on base. But until someone figures it out, I wish the Red Sox would go back to bringing Okajima at the start of the 8th instead of midway through the 7th. It would make this song a lot more fun to sing along to.

Did he just do that?!?

Yes, he did!!!!!

It’s been a morning of giggles this morning here at UmpBump HQ as we try to digest Manny Ramirez’s ridiculous, hilarious, awesome double play from yesterday’s game. The best part may actually be when Manny’s teammates gather ’round to watch the replay in the dugout, and Manny then performs a live reenactment of the now-famous high-five.

As Nick likes to say, Manny plays the game like a giddy five-year old. (Or sometimes an angry five-year old, such as a few innings after yesterday’s catch when he angrily tossed his helmet at the first base umpire, dreadlocks flying in rage.) And clearly, Manny’s defense is potent stuff, because the baseball blogosphere is delightfully tipsy from contact with it this morning. Soxaholix reminds us that even when the team is on a four-game skid, “the glass is half Manny.” Gowanus Rotisserie breaks the play down into “the five stages of being awesome” (hat tip to The Joy of Sox for the link, who in turn called it the “ultimate Manny moment”). Sox and Dawgs has your top ten Manny moments and Babes Love Baseball calls it “Manny being Manny being Awesome.” Manny has often talked of his dream of winning what he sometimes calls the “Silver Glove.” He’s not shy about claiming he’s the best LF Boston has ever had, a claim Surviving Grady suggests he might want to consider retracting considering that Jim Rice is still a very, very large man.

But the most apt turn-of-phrase may be found in this article by Josh Alper for the FanHouse, presciently written earlier this week:

If the Gold Glove was an award for sheer entertainment value, Manny would have a dozen of them by now. Alas, the awards are supposed to be for fielding excellence. I know, I know, Rafael Palmeiro and Derek Jeter have won them but two wrongs do not make a winning argument for Manny.

They should come up with some kind of award for that throw he cut off in the outfield, though. After 100 years it’s tough to do something in baseball that no one has ever seen, or even conceived, before.

“Something in baseball that no one has ever seen, or even conceived, before.” Yes, this is the only proper way to describe the contributions Manuel Aristides Ramirez makes to these Red Sox of Boston. Manny, may the Monster rise up to meet you, the wind be always at your back, may the sun shine warm upon your face, may soft rains fall when you want an off-day, and until you are ready to retire, may Theo always pick up your option.