November 14, 2001: The Toronto Blue Jays hire Oakland Athletics Director of Player Personnel J.P. Ricciardi as their new general manager, replacing the incumbent Gord Ash (fondly remembered in Toronto for trading away Michael Young, hiring phony Vietnam vet Tim Johnson as manager, and, of course, Wells-for-Sirotka). Michael Lewis’s Moneyball was still two years away from publication, but even without its detailing of the inner workings of the Athletics’ organization, it was clear to see the success that Billy Beane and Ricciardi were enjoying in Oakland. They had just been eliminated in heartbreaking fashion by the New York Yankees in the playoffs once again, but their regular season was astounding; while many of their key contributors, including aces Tim Hudson, Barry Zito, and Mark Mulder, were being paid just six-digit salaries, the team won 102 games, seven more than any other American League team besides the record-setting 116-win Seattle Mariners.

All of these successes are well documented in Moneyball and need not be retread at this time. They only serve as evidence for why the beginning of the Ricciardi Era in Toronto was met with excitement and optimism by fans and media alike (the anti-Moneyball movement still a speck on the distant horizon), who appreciated how much Beane and Ricciardi had done with so little in Oakland.

Oakland’s successes also serve to contrast exactly how underwhelming a job Ricciardi has done in his seven years in Toronto.

When Ricciardi took over the GM role in 2001, he vowed to make the Jays, a team treading water in the years before his arrival, a legit contender by 2005. The farm system would be rebuilt; prospects and young major leaguers would be ready to compete with the juggernauts of the division; things would be different by 2005.

Over the next four years, Ricciardi proceeded to make the following first round draft picks:

2002: Russ Adams (SS) (14th overall)
2003: Aaron Hill (SS) (13th)
2004: David Purcey (LHP) (16th)
2005: Ricky Romero (LHP) (6th)

No team has a 100% success rate when it comes to first rounders, even when they’re drafting, like Toronto did, exclusively college players, but suffice it to say: this is an unimpressive group.

Adams was unable to stick with the major league club after multiple stints there, ultimately compiling a .248 / .314 / .376 line in 864 at-bats over the course of four seasons. Last season in the Rogers Centre as a late season call-up in 2007, Adams is playing in Syracuse, approaching his 28th birthday and showing very few signs that he’ll be back with the Jays anytime soon, barely hovering over the Mendoza line in AAA in 2008.

Hill can be considered a success. While he may never develop into a consistent .300 hitter or 25-homer threat, expecting perennial figures that fall a little short of those marks would not be unreasonable. But consider this: 2003 marked the second consecutive year, the first two of Ricciardi’s GM reign, in fact, that he drafted a shortstop in the first half of the first round. While Hill and Adams were both eventually groomed as potential second base replacements for Orlando Hudson (more on him later), the fact is that Ricciardi used back to back high draft picks on the same position. I don’t have a problem with this approach. The careers of baseball draft picks, even first-rounders, are notoriously difficult to foresee, and as such, taking the best player available, regardless of position, is a sound strategy. In the best-case scenario that each of these picks enjoys success in the minor leagues and develops into a legit major league talent, trades can always be made to clear up logjams. Unfortunately, Ricciardi did an about-face on this line of thinking two years later, in the 2005 draft, when everyone in his scouting room pushed for the drafting of shortstop Troy Tulowitzki. Ricciardi liked Romero, and didn’t want another shortstop in the pipeline, with Adams already in the majors and Hill having recently made his debut as well. Romero is mired in New Hampshire in AA ball this season, walking a batter every other inning, while struggling to keep his ERA below 6, his WHIP below 1.75. Tulowtzki? Well, you know what he’s done. (And is it even worth mentioning that in the years since this draft, the Jays have signed Royce Clayton, John McDonald, and David Eckstein as shortstop stopgaps?)

David Purcey, now 26 and having lost his standing as an exciting major league prospect, made his debut earlier this season; in two starts, he did his best Dontrelle Willis impression, walking 11 in 7.3 IP, allowing nine runs and striking out only three. His return to Syracuse was swift.

Needless to say, the Blue Jays weren’t exactly ready to compete with the Yankees and Red Sox of the world heading into 2005. They were coming off a disappointing injury-ravaged 2004 season that saw them finish 67-95, allowing Tampa Bay to finish out of the AL East cellar for the lone time in their first decade of existence. Ricciardi had, by this point, backed off his three-year plan, proposing that 2007 would now be the year that Toronto would be ready to make a playoff run. When most of us procrastinate like this, we face some sort of consequences; Ricciardi was rewarded with an increase in the team’s payroll and his second contract extension, signing through 2010.

And still the questionable personnel moves persisted. In fact, of the Blue Jays’ most promising young talent on its 2008 roster, seven years after Ricciardi took over, Gord Ash is responsible for more than Ricciardi. Alex Rios? An Ash pick. Ditto Dustin McGowan. Roy Halladay too. And even when it comes to Vernon Wells, Ash was the one responsible for drafting him; Ricciardi the one responsible for his current seven-year, $126 million deal that, even the day it was signed, seemed questionable, if not downright foolhardy.

That the Blue Jays have yet to make a bona-fide playoff run during Ricciardi’s regime, or that they currently sit at an underwhelming 41-43, once again last in the AL East, is almost a secondary concern. So too is the fact that, depending on whose reports you believe, they could’ve acquired players like Eric Gagne (they got Luke Prokopec instead) or Ryan Howard (they stuck with Ted Lilly, then watched him leave in free agency a year later). Every GM makes personnel gaffes, and while Ricciardi has had his share, he has made some admirable moves as well, such as the Koch-for-Hinske trade, or the drafting of Shaun Marcum. Inexcusable, however, is the staggering amount of PR blunders he has made over the years. The Adam Dunn debacle is the latest, and though it’s fresh in everyone’s minds, it’s worth reiterating just how badly Ricciardi has handled the entire situation, from the moment he was asked about Dunn on The Fan 590 until the present.

To state that a player on another team “doesn’t really like baseball that much” and “doesn’t have a passion to play the game” is absurdly inappropriate on multiple levels. We can assume, it’s safe to say, that Dunn never previously made such a confession to Ricciardi over a few drinks, which means that Ricciardi’s claims are dependent on either heresy or flat-out speculation. How could a general manager of a baseball team possibly think that making such a speculation on Toronto’s most popular sports station would be appropriate? Confounding the situation even more is the fact that Adam Dunn is exactly the type of player that the Blue Jays need. He has hit twice as many home runs as anyone on their roster, and it’s not like the value of his walks and OPS is lost on Ricciardi; these stats were at the heart of the Athletics’ strategies as documented in Moneyball, and have since gained a wider appreciation throughout the majors. Ricciardi’s logic then, is baffling. Combine this statement with his offseason signing of David Eckstein and his early-season release of Frank Thomas, and it seems like his newest goal is merely to provide as much material as possible for Fire Joe Morgan. That Ricciardi’s claim to have talked to Dunn personally and cleared the air was negated by Dunn’s insistence that such a conversation never occurred only adds another layer of misguided and downright inexplicable decision-making to the entire saga. But it wouldn’t be the first time.

It was Ricciardi who sent Orlando Hudson to the minors before the 2002 season, despite an impressive spring training, because Hudson referred to him as a “pimp.” While Homer Bush, Felipe Lopez, and Joel Lawrence struggled for the Blue Jays, Hudson played in AAA when the major league team could have used him, if not for Ricciardi’s personal vendetta.

It was Ricciardi who withheld information about B.J. Ryan’s injury in 2007, actually presenting false info to the media and to fans, before later opining, when it was revealed that Ryan needed Tommy John surgery, that “they’re not lies if we know the truth.”

Every few months, it seems, Ricciardi says or does something he shouldn’t, and while having an outspoken figure in management is feasible when he’s successful – just ask the White Sox about Ozzie Guillen – it’s hard to stomach when he’s not. Ricciardi’s tenure in Toronto is on its last legs, and he knows it. How else to explain the appeal to the city’s collective nostalgia, bringing back Cito Gaston to the Blue Jays’ bench? Ricciardi’s contract runs into 2010, but if he lasts until the end of it, it’ll be at least two years too long.