Note: Here is another reposting from the changeover. Again, I'll add the basics of the exchange I had with sportthink.
Now that IJWMFTT is back in the saddle (part time at least), I usually keep the radar on for an interesting topic for discussion. Last night, as I tried to stay awake long enough to see Mariano Rivera bat, Joe Morgan provided not one, but two face palm moments. It were as if Joe had found out about Billy Mays, and wanted to give two for the price of one as a tribute.
The first face palm moment came when Joe spurned the basic tenet of baseball, don't get out. "I know some people in baseball who will disagree with me, but I don't feel that every time you make an out trying to steal, that it's a bad play." If I could channel Michigan State's Mike Valenti for a moment: Outs are not Cingular rollover minutes. You don't get to take two of them in the third, and then say "Okay ump, we're going to use that extra out in the eighth."
In this instance, Joe confused the result with the ideal. Ideally, getting another base takes the decision out of the manager's hands. The bunt is no longer needed. The line drive double play on a hit and run is taken out of the equation. Managing is an easy job when the directive is swing away. To that end, a stolen base is almost always a great idea.
That said, an idea does not always produced the desired result. Outs are outs. In very few situations are outs not considered a bad play. Some will point to the sacrifice fly as an example of that. I point to the guy on third in that situation. If he isn't there, then all you have is a run of the mill fly-out. The sacrifice bunt is also cited as an example. We've been down this road so many times with that play; nonetheless, I guess if you need A RUN and it winds up yielding that result, then the ends justified the means. If it doesn't work, then we get what the idea was, but the result indicated that the idea was a bad one. It's a results driven business.
To the credit of Steve Phillips (yeah I had to read that sentence twice), he cited the Yankees 88% stolen base rate as an example of a team that could take on the risk of more attempts. I have mixed feelings about the concept, especially since agreeing with Phillips seemingly contradicts my criticism of Joe Morgan's position. I guess I'm holding back criticism of Phillips because he cited the number, and I'm filling in his blanks (many have ran the analyses and determined that any stolen base percentage below 75% is detrimental). All that said, the 12% that were outs were still bad plays. Outs are outs.
Context is a huge part of analysis. Take the Yankees, and their 88% stolen base rate. Am I more inclined to send runners at Yankee Stadium or Citi Field? I'm sending those runners at Citi since my line-up is conducive to hitting home runs at Yankee Stadium. This is the analysis that's missing from the analysis of the games. As I stated last week, I wonder if Joe makes blanket statements without context, just to get guys like me in a flutter.
***
Okay I promised two for the price of one. I was incredulous over Joe Morgan's incredulity at the Jeter/Rivera situation. Joe wanted to know the logic behind throwing Derek Jeter a first pitch strike in the ninth inning. After all, a weaker hitter was (presumably) coming to the plate in the name of Mariano Rivera.
Here's the logic: Get ahead in the count. Jeter, assuming a pitch around, isn't swinging at the first pitch. Throw a strike and get ahead in the count. Now, throw two pitches down and away to see if Jeter goes fishing. If he takes both, then put Jeter on base. I thought Jerry Manuel played this right.
Pitching with the bases loaded is a different animal than having a base open. If Rivera decides not to bail out Rodriguez, there's nowhere to put him. And that's exactly what happened. Of course, had Rivera struck out, we'd hear more harping over that first strike to Jeter.
[Columbo]Oh and there's just...one...more...thing. Joe Girardi was well within his rights to pinch hit for Rivera. What if the Mets put Jeter on base, and up comes a more experienced hitter with the bases loaded? After all, the logic could have been employed, that two more runs essentially eliminates the need to have Rivera in the game in the ninth.
And try this on for an aside: has there ever been a situation where a closer was batting in a situation where he could bat himself OUT of a save situation? Had Rivera, by divine intervention, sent one over the left field fence, that would have happened.
Update: Sportthink wanted some clarification on my first point. And yes, it is akin to the ill-advised three pointer that goes in. "Bad play, bad play, yeah, great play!" Sport then provided an instance where a gamble isn't the worst thing. Typically it's the two out attempt with the batter behind in the count, or stealing with the pitcher up soon. Getting out in both instances is bad, but not a mortal sin.
Kudos to Sportthink who provided the analysis that Joe Morgan had the platform to provide, but decided not to provide it. This was the essence of my article. Morgan could have differentiated the idea behind the play from the result. This is typical Morganalysis.
Note: This is a reposting of an article written during the changeover; however, new material was added. If you already read it, you may want to comment on Michael Kay's buffoonery.
Billy Beane never wrote a book. Billy Beane never had a cute name for his tenure in Oakland. But everyone from MLB Network's Mitch Williams to the broadcast crew of last week's Reds/White Sox game would have you believe it.
Most broadcasts rely on that crutch for some lively fifth inning banter. The scenario usually plays out as such: Player x draws a walk. Player x played for AAA Sacramento, and was a September call-up for the Athletics. "Yep, he's one of those players out of the Oakland system."
And the analyst, as was the case last Saturday in Cincinnati, always takes the bait. The response is some variation of, "Well that Moneyball philosophy isn't working too well lately now is it?" The play by play man, sensing a rant bubbling beneath the surface, plays it one of two ways. One is to agree and move on. The other is to encourage it with some variation of, "It hasn't been successful in recent years has it?"
Of course, if I'm the third man in the booth, I come down on a different side. "Moneyball is quite successful. Michael Lewis got a best-seller out of it. And until last week, it was going to be adapted into a comedy on the big screen." I would then receive two cold stares that say to me, "We're talkin' baseball here, son. Dirt in the uniform, stealing bases, hittin' the cut-off man and such. You're talkin'bout book learnin' during a baseball game." Then I'd have to remind them that Moneyball is a book, and no, Billy Beane did not write it. It would just get ugly from that point.
Billy Beane should get credit for his successes, and be admonished for his failures. He should not be worshipped as a demigod, nor cast as a villain. Beane did what any manager of anything should do - exploit inefficiencies in the marketplace for their employer's benefit. That is what "Moneyball" is.
Of course, one could argue that Beane's greatest failure was declassifying all of it. I am convinced that there are a handful of scouts and GMs out there who would still be scratching their heads over what Oakland was accomplishing. Beane's self-congratulating attitude toward his trades kept other GMs away. The "f-ing A trade" was no longer possible. After all, there's got to be a reason Beane is calling about this guy. With this book in hand, the other GMs knew exactly why.
Beane's success should not be minimized. Aside from Oakland's early decade success, the Red Sox employed similar strategies to win the 2004 and 2007 World Series titles. In essence, to use the euphemism, the Red Sox were playing moneyball, only they did it with more money. I do not mean to say that Billy Beane is responsible for those titles; however, I do mean to say to those who use the term "Moneyball" as a baseball strategy, "It can and has worked."
Another Beane success comes from an analysis of marginal wins. Marginal wins are essentially wins over a baseline versus dollars spent. Some may say that there is no room for this in a winning and losing industry. What I say to that is that everyone has a job and tools with which to do it. Managers maximize their outputs using various inputs, all within an environment that has constraints. Beane's job is to use the right combination of scouts and tools to obtain the best possible talent, given the payroll he has been assigned by his employer.
In 2006, the A's won the division with a $49,000,000 marginal payroll (I stripped out the portion that clubs are obligated to pay, vis-à-vis league minimum). In 2008, that figure was $32,300,000. This year, that figure is back up to $46,000,000.
Overall, the constraints have grown, and the wins have decreased. That said, the A's of the past three seasons have been in the top ten in terms of investment needed per win. Each 2006 win above baseline (Tampa) cost the A's $16,520. Each 2008 win above baseline (DC) cost the A's $26,973. One could surmise that the loss in efficiency came from the increase in constraints. That figure, by the way, ranked seventh behind Florida, Tampa, Minnesota, Milwaukee, LAA, and Arizona. For fun, each of Seattle's two wins above baseline cost them $839,243 to achieve.
You will notice that the A's join the Brewers, Diamondbacks, Blue Jays, Indians, and Twins as the only clubs from 2006-2008 to have above average total wins and a below average payroll.
I think that before we deem the Beane regime a failure, let's see how the 2007 and 2008 drafts pan out (when payroll went down, thus Beane knew that future success would have to come from drafting). The big what if has always been, what could the guy be doing in a constraint-free environment?
Update: As I sat down to watch "The Sports Reporters" on the four letter's Sunday line-up, I flew into a Beane-esque rage over Michael Kay's opening line. In essence, Kay talked about Tim Lincecum's awesomeness. Okay, fair enough. Then he lamented the fact that he just doesn't look like a Major Leaguer.
I would like to say that this was tongue-in-cheek. Perhaps this was something that Kay thought would serve as witty, one-line analysis. What it is, is THE reason why people continue to cite "Moneyball" as a relevant script on baseball.
What part doesn't look Major League? Is it the part where he throws the ball past professional hitters on a regular basis. Is it the part where he makes knees buckle? Is it when he comes off the mound to effectively field his position? Was Jim Abbott Major League enough?
Of course, it should come as no surprise to me that a Yankee employee would say such things. After all, this is the franchise that publicly squabbled with its best player of the 1980s over a moustache. Could you imagine if this element of the Yankees coprorate culture had taken hold in the 1920s?
Yanks: "Mr Frazee. I hear you have a play opening down this way. I can deliver some dough, if you can help get this team of mine out of the doldrums."
Sox: "How about Ruth? He's a good player. I could launch plays on Broadway for the next five years if you took him off my hands."
Yanks: "Ruth? That slob? Doesn't he play with hot dogs in his pocket? A smoker too I hear. Eh, he don't look like a Major League ball player. Send him to the White Sox. That team looks like they'll win a lot titles. He could make them worse. If we took him, I don't know when we'd win. 2005 at the earliest."
Alan "Bud" Selig is rooting hard for a certain NL Central team. Specifically, he is rooting for its best player. It stands to reason that Selig likes Ryan Braun of the Milwaukee Brewers. Blog over, right? Wrong! Bud Selig has to be rooting for Albert Pujols right now.
Why does Selig want Pujols to mash himself into the sixty home run range? It's all about the best interest of the game. Remember that clause? Remember the Mitchell Report that grants the Commissioner full authority to deal with the steroid issue (see my Emperor Bud entry from that period)?
Baseball's two sacred records both deal with the long ball. Both are held by a player who appeared in the Mitchell Report, and has ongiong perjury proceedings related to the matter. Assuming that Selig has all the knowledge to determine that Pujols is clean, Little Al has to be waiting on pins and needles for Big Al to hit number sixty-two. At that point, Selig can reestablish the official single-season home run record.
The Bonds defenders will be quick to chime in that Barry did nothing wrong at the time he hit his seventy-three home runs. As I have documented several times on this blogosphere, steroids have been banned from baseball since 1991. Fay Vincent banned them. Testing is another matter altogether.
Nonetheless, some may say, "why wait to re-write the record?" Well, to whom should it go? If not Bonds, then the next man is McGwire. There is a lot of circumstantial evidence surrounding Big Mac. Giving the record back to him could set MLB up for an egg on the face moment, if the smoking gun is ever found. And let's be real folks, that R word will also be tossed around like a beach ball.
So who is next in line? Sosa! Oh that no longer looks like a great idea. So can baseball really roll the record back to Maris? Probably not good PR to tell the fans, "the past thirty years didn't exist." Then again, I have compared Selig to a sith lord on several occassions.
The fact of the matter is that Selig needs a "post" steroid era player to break the Maris mark in order to re-evaluate the record. It's not that far fetched. Ben Johnson never existed, and apparently, I never saw the Fab 5 play in back-to-back title games.
Records are a bitter history lesson. Once they are broken, the former holder is all but forgotten. Babe Ruth is a glaring exception, and understandably, we aren't quite ready to let go of Hank Aaron. But really, name everyone who has been labeled "fastest man in the world." Name the guy who Lou Gehrig beat for his record. Once all is right with the world, Alan Selig hopes that Albert Pujols is who we'll remember the most.
I often wonder if "old school" analysts like Tim McCarver and Joe Morgan are oblivious to the criticism launched in their direction. Or do they read it, and then find new and zanier ways to attract it? I am starting to think that it's the latter, given what was offered to us as analysis of the Subway Series.
On FOX's broadcast of the Mets/Yankees Saturday game, McCarver extolled the virtues of running hard to first base - sort of. Here is how the game played out at the time: Fernando Martinez hits a ground ball to first that has the potential to be a double play. The Yanks get the out at second. Throw to first...safe. We have seen this play a thousand times in our baseball watching careers.
Now the McCarverism (I'll throw quotes around it if someone Tivoed it and can provide it verbatim) - It is less virtuous to run hard to first base for a base hit than it is to prevent a double play. This in and of itself is baffling, but perhaps defensible. Just be quiet now, Tim, and we'll get to the sixth with our credibility intact. When you are running for a hit, that helps you, whereas avoiding the double play helps the team. Face. Palm.
Let me understand this concept correctly. Let's walk through an example. Following the averted double play, had Jose Reyes hit a gapper, Martinez would have scored. One run posted for the Mets. Had Martinez hit a dribbler to A-Rod, and he beat the throw to first, and later scored on the same gapper, is that merely half a run?
Offensively, your goal is to avoid outs. Intuitively, you understand that an inning continues, so long as the offense avoids the third out. Here is the evidence:
Both events would seem similarly virtuous. In fact, if we are assigning virtuousness to baseball acts, then we should see if the base hit is the more virtuous of the plays. Nobody wants to hit into a rally killing double play. Running hard prevents that stigma. It's not exactly virtuous when the intent is to avoid ridicule.
Let's go one step further. Isn't the better team play to allow your teammates to hit in lower pressure situations? For instance, what if Martinez struck out? Now Reyes is batting with one more out than Martinez was, and with the runners in the same position. So now the "nine ways to score from third" philosophy is reduced to a "get a hit" mandate.
Let's try this on for size as well. Let's leave the infield. What if Martinez hit the ball down the third base line? And what if Xavier Nady quickly cuts off the ball, but supplies a half-hearted throw to the infiled. And what if Martinez, having taken the wide turn, takes advantage of this to stretch his hit to a double? Is this not a virtuous play because doing it means a better slugging percentage? It would seem more virtuous, since the next hitter gets to bat with the pitcher at a disadvantage.
I have never understood the concept of selfish hits, homers, and walks. We hear so much (from managers whose names rhyme with Crusty Faker) that some guys need to get "more aggressive at the plate. Walks are nice. Hits are better. Yadda yadda." The problem is that analysts project walks or whatever else is perceived as selfish as something possibly greater had something else been done. Of course, they fail to realize that there are worse outcomes as well, which can be easily realized by jamming square pegs into round holes. Martinez's job was to safely reach base. The ends would justify the means. Barring that, Martinez's plan B was to prevent the inning from ending. Resorting to plan B wasn't more virtuous, but a necessary component of completing his job.
From Baltimore's version of The Fan to DC's 980 to four letter radio, I hear the same thing as it relates to the NCAA tournament. People theorize that what we, the uninformed public want, is a chalk bracket. A television personality was on 1570's "Playmakers" talking about how people want upsets in the first weekend, but chalk after that.
I guess I'm having a hard time reconciling all this chatter about what we want from the tournament. I think we like tournament because it doesn't always provide us with a cookie cutter outcome. If the five always beat the twelve, why watch? What makes the tournament special is its unpredictability, yet at the same time, leaving the viewers satisfied with the conclusion.
Think about it. Since the tournament expanded to include at-large teams, how many winners left us saying "That's an undeserving champ?" The two that I can think of are NC State and Villanova. Even so, recall that in 1985, the Big East had three entrants into the final four. Perhaps Villanova's loss ledger was slightly inflated due to the power of the conference that year. NC State entered the tourney at 20-10 with two wins over Ralph Sampson's Cavaliers and a win over Jordan's Heels under their belts. It should be noted that NC State may have been undervalued heading into the big dance, as Derek Whittenburg suffered an injury during conference play.
Even if "people" do want total chalk after the first weekend, let's examine who these "people" likely are. For one, they're fans of the respective teams still in the field. Fans are agenda driven. You know who else is agenda driven? Office bracket guy is driven by an agenda. If our elite eights are going out in round two, we can't win.
In the end, to say that this tournament is "what the people wanted," is an insult to everyone and the event. This is the first time that the top three seeds have gone this far in the tournament. So if this is what we want, then the ratings will be markedly higher, yes? The one conclusion we can draw is that the selection folks did a good job in seeding the tournament.
Now, if they could have just organized the women's tourney, that would be great. I'm all for Duke losing. Even if it's tac-tac-toe. But why was a #1 seed playing a true road game?
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