by Dayn Perry

Comment

It happens every year, like paying taxes or the swallows returning to Capistrano. Teams, frantic for help, cough up contracts that can best be described as "galactically stupid."

Consider some of the grim boondoggles of the past ... Darren Dreifort (five years, $55 million), Kevin Brown (seven years, $105 million), Carl Pavano (four years, $39.95 million), Russ Ortiz (four years, $33 million), Chan Ho Park (five years, $65 million), Mike Hampton (eight years, $121 million), Denny Neagle (five years, $51.5 million), Barry Zito (seven years, $126 million), Carlos Perez (three years, $15.6 million), and Carlos Silva (four years, $48 million).

Lots of belly-itchers in there, and that's but a sampling. Sure, not every winter brings us Dreifortian/Hamptonian levels of irrationality. But you can bet teams are always going to cough up more than they should for pitching help.

There's an economic argument to be made that there's no such thing as an overpaid player — if the market dictates a given contract then that player is, by definition, worth that amount of money. That's true, to an extent. Contracts aren't acts of charity: they cost as much and run as long as it takes to get the player signed. However, as we all know, whether that player provides value on the dollar is another matter altogether. This is especially the case with pitchers.

The Cubs spent a lot on keeping Ryan Dempster. (Pool / Getty Images)

Pitching is a destructive art. The human body simply isn't designed to throw overhanded and at such speeds — it's unnatural and, done often enough, it almost always results in injury. As well, pitching entails much randomness and a level of precision foreign to other elements of the game.

All of these factors conspire to render all but the most elite pitchers wildly unpredictable. Giving them long contracts worth so much money requires a level of faith you won't find even in a convent. It would seem that the above cautionary tales (seriously, Mike Hampton ... eight years) are there for our amusement and not to edify the decision-makers. Otherwise, why would this keep happening?

The current off-season certainly will provide no relief. Already, the Cubs have coughed up $52 million to lock up Ryan Dempster. There's no disputing Dempster's excellence in 2008, but this remains a guy who has exactly twice in his 11-year career put up the kind of numbers that would justify such a pact.

CC Sabathia at some point this winter will sign the richest contract ever for a pitcher. At age 28 and with a fairly positive health history, it's conceivable he'll be worth it. But it's not likely. In fact, it's overwhelmingly unlikely. A.J. Burnett is also headed for an indecent payday (perhaps, get this, five years and $80 million, courtesy of the Yankees), but he's no stranger to injury.

A.J. Burnett is sitting on a big payday. (Lisa Blumenfeld / Getty Images)

Derek Lowe might sign a contract that takes him to age 40. Andy Pettitte reportedly wants at least $16 million to pitch in 2009. Oliver Perez, according to the impartial and rigorously scientific estimations of his agent Scott Boras, is one of the top-five lefties in baseball and should be paid accordingly.

All of this would be funny if the absurd demands, comparisons, and expectations weren't met, abetted, and enabled by clubs who can't seem to help themselves.

Why is this so? Why can't GMs resist these annual calls to madness? Perhaps the old chestnut that baseball is x% pitching (where x >>>>>> 50) is still believed by too many people within the game. Perhaps it's the notion that good pitching is too scarce these days.

Whatever the reasons, it happens every time. In reality, unless you're a team of near limitless resources like the Yankees or Red Sox, you should take no part in helping along these sordid valuations. Hell, for almost every team in baseball, disinterring the four-man rotation would make more sense than throwing $80 million A.J. Burnett's way. The really scary thing? The contracts given to starting pitchers are strokes of fiscal genius when compared to what closers are paid these days.

In a sense, the ideal path to strong pitching is the same as it is with hitting: develop your own talent, identify the keepers, lock them up early. But given the going rates for free-agent hurlers, doing things the right way is even more critical. Otherwise, you end up throwing money — lots of it — at the problem. The historical imperative is that it almost never works. Now watch as teams far and wide ignore that history. Again and again.