This past Saturday, the city of Portland, Oregon, USA, was treated to the most absolutely fantastic weather conditions that either God or resident billionaire/computer nerd Paul Allen — either one of them — could possibly produce. I mean, I can’t say for sure what it was like in the Garden before Eve partook of the fruit, but I’m guessing it couldn’t have been much nicer than the Rose City was on the most recent of Sabbaths.

Also, Portland has way more breweries than Eden seem to’ve had, so we’ve got that going for us, too.

Of course, as I write this on Monday evening, we in Portland and Vicinity are no longer basking in the sunshine. No, instead it’s showering lightly and about 15-20 degrees cooler. Nor should such weather come as a surprise: summer doesn’t truly descend upon the Pacific Northwest until after July Fourth. The change in weather isn’t ideal, but it has presented the raw material for a sweet analogy I’m about to make in re a kinda anonymous back-of-the-rotation starter.

Allow me to explain.

Last week, I was cordially invited to join the thoughtful gentlemen of Pitchers and Poets on their eponymous podcast. Among other sundry topics, we discussed Seattle Mariner Doug Fister and his season to date. Messrs Walker and Nusbaum — who, against all odds, are not the owners of a New York-style delicatessen — had a question about Fister’s place in the hearts and minds of Seattleites. They wondered, in concert, “Why is it that the more sabermetrically oriented of Mariner fans — why is it that rather than enjoying the run of success that Fister has experienced to date, that they must instead quickly remind any- and everyone who’ll listen that Fister is unlikely to continue such success.”

For those readers who aren’t hanging on every single one of Doug Fister’s sweet changepieces, here’s what you need to know about him: he doesn’t have overpowering stuff, but he’s got an excellent ERA (1.72), but he’s got a less excellent xFIP (4.25), but he’s also young enough (26) to be an interesting piece in Seattle’s rotation.

As to why certain Mariner fans might hasten to express reservations about Fister’s future, I think I might know why. And I think the recent brush with paradise here in Portland can help us understand.

Under the influence of such meteorological perfection as we here in Portland experienced this past Saturday — and with full knowledge that such weather is unlikely to last more than a day or two — a man has two choices: he can either (a) just enjoy the sunshine for what it is, or (b) eye the nice weather suspiciously, fully aware that it’ll be gone just as quickly as it came.

The first reaction is one native to a sort of person whom, for the purposes of the present work, we’ll call a Good Times Charlie (GTC). The GTC is the kind of man, woman, and/or child who, as Thich Nhat Hanh might say, is fully present in the moment. The latter behavior is typical of another sort, one we’ll call a Nervous Ned (NN). The NN, for better or worse, is unable to enjoy present conditions unless he’s pretty sure they’ll continue into the future.

Neither type — the Charlie or the Ned — is inherently good/bad. But recognizing such types can help us understand why certain fans might have reservations about Fister, irrespective of his success to date.

My guess is that the majority of real-live sabermetricians are of the Nervous Ned variety. This isn’t to say that sabermetricians can’t have a good time, but inasmuch as sabermetrics is the scientific method applied to baseball, those who practice it have trained themselves to possess a healthy skepticism. On account of Fister possesses such a considerable split between his ERA and xFIP, on account of he’s got a 2.1% HR/FB, on account of he sports an 88 mph fastball, and on account of said fastball features a pretty bogus 2.2% whiff rate (= not so good) — well, there’re reasons for skepticism.

In his defense, a true Nervous Ned is also a friend of those players — your Jay Bruces, your Derek Hollands — who’ve been disastrously unlucky. While the Charlie might only see Bruce’s .223 batting average from last year or Holland’s 6.12 ERA, the Ned recognizes the role of (bad) luck in those numbers.

The only real problem type is the heretofore unmentioned Jerky Jed. The Jerky Jed is the sort of fan who’ll sing the praises neither of Fister nor Bruce/Holland. The Jerky Jed is — not for nothing — a jerk. Don’t hang out with that guy.