Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Someone deflates Gregg Doyel's car tire

Hours after Indianapolis Star columnist Gregg Doyle wrote that the New England Patriots should be removed from the Super Bowl for deflating footballs, someone deflated one of Doyle's car's tires: 
Doyle doesn't provide much more information, other than to emphasize that someone used a knife to pop the tire. Drawing a link between his scathing column and the slashed tire makes sense, although I'm not sure how the culprit knew where to find Doyle's car. 

I obviously don't think anyone should get their tire slashed for something they write, even if I vehemently disagree with the story. It sucks Doyle has to deal with this headache.

But it does give me an excuse to make a parallel to the deflated football controversy, so this incident isn't all bad.  

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Why do fans keep leaving playoff games early?

I'll admit, this headline is a little unfair. One of the two playoff games I can think of where home fans inexplicably left early was, of course, Game 6 of the 2012 NBA Finals between San Antonio and Miami.

The other game happened today (Sunday) in the NFC championship with Green Bay at Seattle

In both cases, the home teams looked doomed before making incredible comebacks.

Miami trailed by five with about 30 seconds left. I don't blame any Heat fan for feeling pessimistic. But while improbable, that was not an impossible deficit to erase. And wouldn't you risk potential heartbreak if there was a chance this happened?



Seattle fans were in a similar situation on Sunday. The Seahawks trailed 19-7 late in the game, and they were lucky to only be down two scores. I wouldn't like those chances, either. But like the Ray Allen shot, incredible plays can occur. Case in point: 



This would be near impossible to prove, but I'm sure home fans left early from dozens, if not hundreds, of playoff games like these two. The only difference was their teams never came back to make them look like fools.

But the results don't excuse the process. Why leave a playoff game early when your team has a chance of winning? 

(Note: I have never attended a professional playoff game in any sport. I attended an Elite 8 game in 2007, but that game was between two teams -- UCLA and Kansas -- I didn't have huge loyalties to. I was with my dad, a UCLA alum, so no, I didn't leave before the final buzzer.)

Avoiding traffic is one of the main points people bring up. Traffic sucks, I get it. If you're at a regular season game that looks like a loss for your team, I totally understand leaving 30 minutes early so you can avoid traffic, or at least be stuck in it 30 minutes earlier than you would have if you stayed until the end.

But these are playoff games. You paid hundreds-to-thousands of dollars to be there, and you know sporting events take four-five hours (often longer) when you factor in travel. If you needed to be somewhere shortly after the game ended, what's the point of shelling out a concession worker's monthly paycheck to go? Your house or a bar can't be that much worse of a viewing location.

Again, I get it if this is a regular season game. You stuck around until the last 1/20th of the game, and the last 1/20th probably won't change your feelings about the game or the money you spent to spectate. Even if your team came back, the majority of those comebacks won't be meaningful in the standings or ignite Twitter with their unbelievability. 

That last sentence doesn't apply to a playoff game. The Seahawks either go to the Super Bowl or go home after Sunday. Those are the only two possibilities. If your team has a chance -- albeit a slim one -- to advance to the biggest game of the year (a game you almost certainly don't have tickets to), why not see if your team can pull of the amazing? Are you superstitious about your affect on your team's performance?

Other than traffic, superstition is one of the few reasons I can come up with for leaving early. Maybe you don't want to see the clock hit zero and see the opponent celebrate. That isn't unreasonable, but is the pain that much sharper when you see the end? 

Whatever the reasons, it's hard to find any (in a general sense) that are excusable.

Last Monday, I watched the entire College Football Playoff national championship game at a bar. I'm an Oregon alum, so I was understandably solemn in the final minutes. But even after Ohio State went up 42-20 with under a minute left, I thought about Oregon's chances to pull off something historic. "Kickoff return for a TD, recover onside kick, quick TD, recover onside kick, quick TD, two-point conversion." Those were the actual thoughts running through my head. Ridiculous thoughts, but fans often think irrationally.

I'm also a terrible Oregon fan compared to many. It's not a stretch to say several fans, even casual ones, hold onto any slice of hope in dire circumstances. Teams have made improbable comebacks, and they will again. 

Some are calling Sunday's NFC championship game one of the best playoff games in years. Seahawks fans who left early got to watch the incredible finish on TV, outside of a rumbling CenturyLink Field. Minutes earlier, they were contributing to the noise. Now, instead of basking in the euphoria that is attending one of the most exciting playoff games ever, they'll feel as much regret as they will joy. All because they wanted to beat traffic.
The best stories I read this week:

The Man Behind The Swag: Nick Young, by Lee Jenkins, Sports Illustrated.

I knew this would be a good piece because Lee Jenkins, but I wasn't totally expecting the depth of character Jenkins illustrates in Young. A must-read.
"Young wears an open-mouthed grin whether opining about high fashion or reflecting on unspeakable tragedy. He is a bright light in a dark corner, a role he assumed and perfected long before he reached the Lakers. All he had to do was flash that smile and shoot that ball, and he could lift everybody’s spirits, sometimes even his own. “My dad tells me I smile to keep from crying,” Young says. “I don’t know about that. But I do think you sometimes smile to hide.""
To Fall in Love With Anyone, Do This, by Mandy Len Catron, The New York Times.

If you have a crush on someone who doesn't like you back, just force him/her to stare into your eyes for four straight minutes, reports the Times. ... Don't be like this me, click the link and upgrade to a much more thought-provoking, insightful line of thinking.

"So it was with the eye, which is not a window to anything but a rather clump of very useful cells. The sentiment associated with the eye fell away and I was struck by its astounding biological reality: the spherical nature of the eyeball, the visible musculature of the iris and the smooth wet glass of the cornea. It was strange and exquisite."
Technology Has Made Life Different, but Not Necessarily More Stressful, by Claire Cain Miller, The New York Times (The Upshot).

A good piece that recalls a larger point I often argue about with other people (usually older, mostly my mom): technology is changing our lifestyles, not necessarily worsening them.

"Just as the telephone made it easier to maintain in-person relationships but neither replaced nor ruined them, this recent research suggests that digital technology can become a tool to augment the relationships humans already have." 
How Headlines Change the Way We Think, by Maria Konnikova, The New Yorker.

I read this last month, but due to the lack of great stories I read this week (sorry) and the excellence of this one, it's worth sharing.

"The headline, it turns out, had done more than simply reframe the article. In the case of the factual articles, a misleading headline hurt a reader’s ability to recall the article’s details. That is, the parts that were in line with the headline, such as a declining burglary rate, were easier to remember than the opposing, non-headlined trend. Inferences, however, remained sound: the misdirection was blatant enough that readers were aware of it and proceeded to correct their impressions accordingly.
The Innocent Man, Part Two, by Pamela Colloff, Texas Monthly. 

I shared Part One last week, and I predicted I'd love Part Two as much. Call me Nostradamus. 

"Having worn only loose-fitting prison whites for as long as he could remember, he stared at them as he was unshackled: a white button-down shirt, khakis, boxers, and a pair of socks. Unaccustomed to buttons, he fumbled them as he dressed himself. As he slid on the khakis, which felt impossibly soft, he began to cry."

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Are the Buckeyes undisputed champs?

Screenshot from YouTube
I didn't notice this until Tuesday -- probably because I was in a sad, drunken haze the night before -- but after Ohio State romped Oregon in the College Football Playoff national championship game, its players and coaches dawned championship T-shirts with the words "Undisputed Champs" splayed prominently on the front

This being the first year of the CFP, not many would dispute those two words. Ohio State responded after an embarrassing loss to Virginia Tech by winning out. Sure, an double overtime win over Penn State didn't look great, but the Buckeyes counteracted that blemish by demolishing a good Wisconsin team and controlling their battles versus top-10 teams Michigan State, Alabama and Oregon. The latter two wins, of course, came in the CFP.


Ohio State's resume is obviously strong. But are they truly undisputed champs?


This is a hard argument for anyone to make. The fact that I'm an Oregon alum who was rooting for the Ducks Monday night doesn't give my opinion much credence. But believe me, I'd say this even if Oregon won.


Any reasonable person can agree that the playoff is better than the BCS. This has been beaten to death, but it can't be said enough: Alabama and Florida State would have played for the national title under the BCS system. That would have been unfair, as the results have shown. But even if you discount that, the playoff system has been wildly more fun than BCS national championship game. The games might not always be as entertaining as they were this year, but most people would prefer three games over one.


The playoff creates more fairness and fun than the BCS. That's indisputable. But it doesn't create undisputed champs.


I'm not saying Ohio State's path to becoming national champs was fluky. The Alabama game was its closest win by a mile after its win over a solid Minnesota team on Nov. 11, and the Buckeyes dominated the Tide after falling early. They looked like the better team in that game as much as they did against Oregon. 


But what happens if Alabama chose to run the ball more in that game? What happens if Oregon isn't missing so many key players? What happens if there were eight or 16 teams in the playoff?


Ah, the playoff expansion argument. Many rightfully point out that four teams isn't the fairest system. TCU and Baylor both had great arguments to be one of the four teams. I think TCU was one of the best four teams in the country, maybe the best. We'll never know. Even Boise State might have pulled off an upset or two if the field was expanded to eight or more. 


But as much as I think an expanded playoff field would be fairer -- in addition to being exponentially more fun -- it wouldn't truly determine the undisputed champs, at least not always. The best example is, of course, the NFL playoffs. Last year, the Seattle Seahawks won the Super Bowl. I'm certainly not going to argue they weren't the NFL's best team. However, the nearly didn't reach the Super Bowl. The San Francisco 49ers were a tipped Colin Kaepernick pass away from winning the NFC championship game (full disclosure: I'm a 49ers fans). The year before, the 10-6 wild dard Baltimore Ravens won it all. Both New York Giants' Super Bowl-winning teams these past eight years were low seeds. 


The NCAA tournament is a decent comparison, as well, and the winner resembles 2014 UConn just as often, if not more, than 2012 Kentucky. 


One-game playoff rounds often result in inferior teams scoring upsets. Hell, even the NBA playoffs, in which one of the best teams consistently exits as champions, involves a ton of good fortune. Playoffs do not guarantee the best team will come out on top. They engender randomness.


This does not mean the playoff system in college football should be eliminated. Even in an impractical world where every Division I team played each other in one season, we still wouldn't know who the best team was. Football can't have 162-, 82-game or even 30-game seasons (and to be an even bigger dork, 162-game MLB seasons often aren't enough to determine the best teams; case in point: the 2012 Orioles).


I realize how absurd this all sounds. Does this mindset take away the fun of sports? A little bit, sure. But I still consume and love sports despite viewing them this way. We don't need to heap gobs of meaning onto sports to enjoy them. My favorite baseball team, the San Francisco Giants, has one three World Series in five years. Have I enjoyed them a little less because I know they weren't the best teams each of those years? A little, but it's still fun as hell to watch your team, or any team, defeat the odds and win a championship. Madison Bumgarner shutting down every breathing batter would be nirvana no matter how "meaningful" the games.


Are the Buckeyes undisputed champs? No, because we can't prove "undisputed" in this limited sample known as college football. But they're still champs. No one can dispute that.


CFP national championship story links:


This is by no means a complete list, but these are the best stories about the championship game I read on Tuesday.


1) Let's Look At All The Shitheads Who Thought A Playoff Was A Bad Idea, by Drew Magary, Deadspin.


This story was one of the reasons I wrote the 800-plus words above.


"In 10 years, this will be bigger than the NFL playoffs. They will find a way to expand this to
eight games, put a quadrupleheader of quarterfinal games on for New Year's Day, foster office pools, and 50 million people will tune in for every matchup. It's gonna be awesome. Players will still be paid in fishsticks, but still: Awesome."

2) Duck Hunt: Watching Ohio State Win the First College Football Playoff National Championship, by Bryan Curtis, Grantland.

Curtis is one of my favorite writers, and he delivers another good story here.

"Ohio State 42, Oregon 20 was bound to be deeply weird. The Buckeyes team that wasn’t even favored in its own conference championship game somehow just beat the two best teams in the country back-to-back. The man under center lost his coaches’ spring competitions for playing time and their various tests of moral character. An Ohio State fan stood outside the stadium before the game, drawing from a Miller Lite can and considering the strange season that had unfolded. 'I was just hopin’ to get to the Outback Bowl,' the guy said. '9-3, right?'"
3) 13 notes on Ohio State's Playoff Championship win in JerryWorld, by Spencer Hall, SB Nation.

No championship game recap list of links is complete without Spencer Hall.

"I also know that Ohio State hired the man who burnt their house down in 2006, the one who sort of started the downward spiral of the program into obsolescence in the first place, to rebuild them back into a national power. He did that, but college football remains the weirdest for being one of those sports where you say, Oh, that arsonist? Let's invite him in and hire him to redecorate our house. 
P.S. It works!"
4) The night it all ended: Oregon Ducks' resiliency runs out in title game loss to Ohio State (game story), by Andrew Greif, The Oregonian.

Those who've read Greif won't be surprised to see him kill another game story.

"Stocked with a roster brimming with talent and a reservoir of resiliency, the Ducks possessed a MacGyver-like knack for digging themselves out of holes and emerging with hope — or at least a first down."
5) Oregon runs out of magic as injury-riddled season comes to a close in National Championship loss, by Tyson Alger, The Oregonian.

Really good work by Alger on one of the biggest what-ifs of the postseason.

"Receivers buzzed with corners on their backs. Marcus Mariota, the best player to ever put on a Ducks uniform, rolled right. Charles Nelson caught his eye along the sideline. He had a step on his defender and Mariota launched a prayer. Nelson out-leapt his defender, then watched as the ball sailed above his 5-foot-9 frame. 
Maybe, at 6-foot-2, Carrington could have made a play. Maybe it was impossible for anyone to reach. But the moment the ball landed in the sidelines, people wondered."
6) National Championship: Ohio State completes the chase, defeats Oregon 42-20, by Joseph Hoyt, Oregon Daily Emerald. 

Hoyt is a friend and former colleague, but I'm not linking this story for either of those reasons. This truly is a great postgame story.

"'Hey Vonn,' (Tyvis) Powell yelled. 'Come take a picture with me and the trophy.' 
Bell stopped, turned to Powell and then kept walking.  
'There’s no time,' Bell said, continuing his trek to the bus. 'I’ll take a photo with the trophy when we win.'”
7) Photos: Ohio State Buckeyes stampede Oregon Ducks 42-20 at College Football Playoff Championship, by Taylor Wilder and Ryan Kang, Oregon Daily Emerald. 

My former colleagues will go far in the photojournalism world (assuming they stick with it) because they're already producing professional work like this... as college juniors.

Monday, January 12, 2015

NYT profile of Mark Helfrich

Screenshot from YouTube
A couple of things from this well-done Tim Rohan profile of Mark Helfrich stood out to me.

1) The photo was taken by Ryan Kang, my former colleague at the University of Oregon's student newspaper, the Daily Emerald. Sad to see Kang struggling so much...

2) This quote: 

"'He always did a good job of not making you feel dumb,' said Rudy Carpenter, one of his quarterbacks at Arizona State."

I covered Oregon football last year for the Emerald. On one of my first media days, a fellow reporter told me (paraphrased), "Helfrich gives substance-less answers as much as Chip Kelly did, only Helfrich makes you feel better when he answers." I didn't cover Kelly, but I can vouch for the Helfrich part. I'd attend media sessions after practices every day, and when Helfrich spoke, I felt like he was giving great answers that would make my post-practice recap shine. Then, I would transcribe his interviews and 99 percent of his answers were in coach-speak. Frustrating for reporters but brilliant for a coach trying to carve a positive image of his program.

But I never got the sense that Helfrich was playing the media. He was simply following his job description: deflect, deflect and deflect some more. And he seemed to respect the media, despite dreading talking to us (which coach doesn't?). Kelly seems to enjoy embarrassing reporters; Helfrich seems to do the opposite. He didn't make you feel dumb.

Tonight will be a big test for Helfrich against a great coach in Urban Meyer. A loss will heap additional doubts on Helfrich's already burdened shoulders. A win will make people say, "Huh, Chip is regarded as a better coach but Helfrich actually won a title." It's a flawed argument, but at least it will confirm what we've seen for a while: Helfrich is a good coach.

Wait a second...

... that's not the President of Hearst Digital.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

New (and improved?) Robbing Homers

On August 8, 2014, the managing editor for the Idaho Falls Post Register sat me down and recited the "spiel," aka -- the introduction to working at the newspaper. It was my first day as a sports reporter for the Register, so the managing editor, Rob, who hired me, walked me through all the employment logistics -- time cards, bill sheets, potential benefits, etc. But he also laid out his hopes and expectations for Register reporters, a fraternity for which I was now initiated.

At the end of his spiel, Rob told me about a writer by the name of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway, Rob said, would party until 4 in the morning, wake up at 8 a.m., write until the evening, rinse, repeat. Rob wasn't encouraging me to become a functioning alcoholic, of course. He was illustrating the importance of writing. Constantly writing. Even a self-destructive force such as Hemingway could master the craft (sure, Hemingway also benefitted from his once-in-a-generation talent). 


Rob's story stuck with me, and I've been writing my fingers off since that day. But I recently read some of my previous work, and I couldn't get past the holes in my stories, even the best ones. I also read this story, written by Tommy Craggs, former Deadspin editor-in-chief who is in charge of all editorial operations at Gawker. I've known for a while that Craggs is a good writer (Grantland nearly snatched him), but Craggs wrote the piece linked above in college. I'm older than he was then, and that college column was better-written than thing I've done. I often feel self-conscious about my writing ability, but this amped my insecurities to 11.


Why am I telling you all this? It's the reason I'm writing this post. I've been spurred to write more. Not that I need to write more, necessarily, but it can't hurt. That's why I'm ending my 16-month Robbing Homers hiatus and vowing to update it frequently. I don't know how often I'll by posting, since my job is  priority number one, and I'm sure I'll encounter days where I'd rather read, watch a TV show/movie or hang out with friends. Unless I build an audience (lol), this blog is purely meant for me to keep the writing juices flowing. 


That written, I do have a plan for this blog, and it diverges from the original goal. This is not going to be a baseball-only blog anymore. In fact, the title will probably change once I think of something else decent. I'll still write about baseball, but I'm going to focus on all sports, or at least the big four (baseball, basketball, football and soccer -- sorry, hockey). And this is going to be more like Outside the Lines than Pardon the Interruption. In other words, the topics discussed on this site will generally veer toward off the field issue (i.e. human interest stories, business, violence and media). Don't get me wrong, I love breaking down on-field happenings and I'll be doing that in this space. But I care more about the off-field issues. What can I say? I'm a reporter.


All of my posts will include links, as well. Some will serve as citations, others will simply be links to stories I enjoyed. On Sundays, I'll provide links to my favorite stories of the week (see below). The volume of links will vary.


I don't expect this blog to turn me into Hemingway, or even an obscure scribe for an average newspaper. But I love to write and I express my thoughts most effectively in this medium. That can't be overstated. I'm doing this for fun more than anything else. Becoming a better writer and building an audience (LOL) would be gravy.


Best stories I read this week*:


1) Suspensions to Oregon players bring NCAA marijuana policy into question, by Pete Thamel, Sports Illustrated. 


Full disclosure: I'm an Oregon alum and I'm rooting for the Ducks tomorrow. But my thoughts would be the same if players from Ohio State were suspended for smoking weed. Thamel provides a well-reported column on an issue that shouldn't be.

"The intention of this column isn’t to offer a pass to Carrington or Forde; both made immature mistakes that could cost their team the national title.
...
Still, no one is sure how much marijuana each smoked to flag the test. As marijuana becomes more integrated in society, it’s probably wise for the NCAA to, well, roll with it."
2) The Blame for the Charlie Hebdo Murders, by George Packer, The New Yorker. 

An excellent reflection on Wednesday's tragedy in Paris.

"Others want to lay the blame entirely on the theological content of Islam, as if other religions are more inherently peaceful—a notion belied by history as well as scripture."
3) The Intercept’s ‘Serial’ Trolling Is Just Mind-Boggling, by Martin Austermuhle, Medium. 

I'm a big "Serial" fan. I've listened to every episode, read several articles discussing it and pondered its quality. Some have done a little more than ponder, as Austermuhle explains.
"Being adversarial is an important trait for a journalist. ... But Vargas-Cooper and Silverstein seem to take being adversarial as its own virtue — truth and evidence don’t really matter, as long as what you’re saying cuts against the grain."
4) Hearing Is Believing, by James Atlas, The New York Times. 

Speaking of podcasts, Atlas dives into the growth of the form. 

"Listening to a podcast is like watching a movie, listening to music and reading a book all at once."
5) The Case for Reparations, by Ta-Nehisi Coates, The Atlantic. 

This is Coates at his best. Thought-provoking, strong and beautiful writing.

"'The reason black people are so far behind now is not because of now,' Clyde Ross told me. 'It’s because of then.'"
6) The Innocent Man, Part One, by Pamela Colloff, Texas Monthly. 

I had been excited to read this two year-old true crime story for months, and it didn't disappoint. I have not finished Part Two, but I have no doubt it is as excellent as Part One.

"When he broke down as Anderson held up a succession of grisly crime-scene photos, his reaction was seen not as an outpouring of grief but as the remorse of a guilty man."
*In Sunday posts, I will mostly link to stories published during the previous week, but I will always include at least one story published previously. Those will usually be old stories I finally got around to. Other times, if I don't read an old story that week, I'll link to a favorite of mine. Also, I'm setting a false precedent this week by providing only one sports link.

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

Brandon Phillips Might be Having the Worst Offensive Season of His Career


We've heard this argument countless times before.

Traditional stat guy says, "RBIs are good! ... Run production! ... Clutch hitting! ... No fear!"

Advanced stat guy counters, "RBIs are pointless! ... A product of teammates getting on base! ... Clutch hitting is a myth!"

Both guys win the argument in their own minds, but in reality, nobody wins. Progress takes another punch to the gut, begging its captors for mercy.

This argument has popped up again this season because of Brandon Phillips, who has a career-high 99 RBIs (fifth in the majors) through Tuesday, Sept. 3 while the rest of his numbers have been mediocre, at best. Phillips yelled at a Reds reporter last week, apparently because the reporter, C. Trent Rosecrans, sent out a tweet criticizing the Reds for putting Phillips and his low OBP in the second spot of the batting order. Phillips' tirade was music to the ears of traditional stat backers who think it's ridiculous to criticize a player who's driven in that many runs. Rosecrans was providing a similar melodic tune to the ears of sabermetric folk, who disregard RBIs and think Phillips is overrated because of that stat.

The truth is, Phillips hasn't simply been overrated. In his eight full seasons in the major leagues, this season might be the worst one he's ever had from the plate.

The traditional stat crowd is obviously going to point to Phillips' high number of RBIs and hold that stance firmly. What's interesting about Phillips, though, is that his RBI total is probably the only batting statistic any baseball fan would say has been good this year.

Look at his other more traditional numbers in 2013 (through Tuesday): .267 batting average, 17 home runs, four stolen bases, 72 runs scored. To put those in context, compare them to his stats from the seven other full seasons in his career.

Besides his .261 average in 2008, Phillips has hit at least .275 since 2006 (his first full season).

His 17 HR total is actually right in line with his per season rate, so it would be unfair to say he's fallen off in that category. That said, unless he hits a bunch of dingers in these final 23 games, his HR total compared to the rest of the league will be nothing more than pedestrian. And that's before you factor in the ballpark he plays in, which is a holy land for power hitters.

It isn't surprising to see that Phillips' stolen base numbers have gone down the past four seasons, considering he's an aging player in his 30s, but he still averaged 15 steals in the three seasons leading up to this one. Unless he channels his inner Billy Hamilton these next few weeks, people will look at Phillips' steals total and think, "Man, he's lost a ton of speed."

His runs scored figure will probably increase by the end of the season, so we shouldn't judge Phillips in that category just yet. But it's going to be hard for him to score if he doesn't get on base*. As Rosecrans noted, Phillips isn't so hot in the OBP department (.316 through Tuesday), but like most of Phillips' numbers this year, his OBP has been even worse than it's typically looked during his career. The only time he's had an OBP below .321 with the Reds other than this season was in 2008.

*By the way, can we stop lumping OBP in with other sabermetrics? Just because Billy Beane and Peter Brand Paul DePodesta valued it in Moneyball doesn't mean it's some advanced stat for loser nerds. It's literally just batting average with walks and hit by pitches included. This isn't an advanced concept.

Phillips has upped his BB% from last year, but at 5.8%, he's still well below average in that area. He's rarely -- if ever -- been an elite hitter, but he's usually performed better than this with the bat. Phillips hasn't put up a wRC+ this low since 2008, either, nor has he struck out as much since then (2008 wasn't his best offensive year, to say the least). He's never had a lower slugging percentage or wOBA during any season with Cincinnati, and his ISO is dangerously close to hitting that "lowest ever" mark.

Whether you like those numbers or more traditional ones, it's hard to find a full season in Phillips' career that's been worse than this one...

... unless you look at his RBIs. Anyone who's read or listened to a sabermetric-minded baseball journalist has probably heard them say something along these lines (like the fake advanced stat guy at the beginning of this piece): "A batter's RBIs are a product of runners getting on base in front of him." It's true. If every batter in baseball history came up to the plate without ever having teammates on base, the all-time single-season RBI leader would be Barry Bonds with 73. Baserunners are as vital to a hitter's RBI total as his bat. If you think performing well with runners in scoring position is a skill certain players like Phillips possess that others don't, you should read this. If you're still not sold, well, you're probably not reading at this point, anyway.

But regarding Phillips, specifically, let's investigate the his runners on base situation this season. Among all of his plate appearances in 2013, 438 runners have been on base for Cincinnati. Since 2006, he's only inherited more baserunners in a season twice -- 461 baserunners in 2007 and 449 in 2009. He has more than a good chance to surpass those numbers this year, especially considering Shin-Soo Choo (.415 OBP) is batting in front of him. His RBI totals in 2007 and 2009, by the way, were 94 and 98, respectively. Those, along with his 99 this year, are by far the highest in his career. Have I mentioned how much baserunners affect RBIs?

Of the 438 baserunners Phillips has inherited, 85 have scored (to be clear, not all those runs have counted as Phillips RBIs). That's also a career-high. His batting average with runners in scoring position this season is currently .349, which is near the top of league. So maybe he hasn't been great in all situations this year, but in the situations that have mattered most, he's delivered. That sentence is 100 percent factual. He's performed much better in run-producing scenarios. But that doesn't mean Phillips has a discernible skill when he comes to the plate with runners on second or third.

Here are his BA with RISP figures from every season since 2006 (his overall batting averages are in parentheses):

2006 -- .297 (.276)
2007 -- .269 (.288)
2008 -- .261 (.261)
2009 -- .291 (.276)
2010 -- .246 (.275)
2011 -- .311 (.300)
2012 -- .305 (.281)
2013 -- .349 (.269)

You could construct a narrative saying Phillips has become more clutch since 2011 because he's hit over .300 with runners in scoring position each of those seasons. I mean, it's your story. Who am I to stop you from writing it?

You could also look at eight years of evidence illustrating that Phillips hasn't consistently performed better or worse in clutch situations than he has overall (another thing: notice that he hit .269 and .291 in his 94- and 98-RBI seasons; say it with me: RBIs are a product of runners getting on base).

The last three seasons do make it seem like he's become more skilled with runners in scoring position, and maybe he has. There's a decent chance not even his teammates or coaches know if he's changed his mechanics and/or mindset in ways that have helped him perform better in those situations. If he keeps improving for years to come, this "clutch" debate surrounding Phillips will even make people like me rethink my stance. At the moment, though, his 2013 RISP average simply looks like an outlier in an otherwise normal major-league career.

Phillips has also had just 163 plate appearances with RISP, good for less than 30% of his overall plate appearances. First of all, that's a small sample size, but it also illustrates just how much Phillips has hurt his team. Sure, getting hits that drive in runs is extremely valuable, but if you're making outs during the majority of your other PAs, you're not giving your teammates chances to drive you in, thus preventing runs from scoring. In other words, for every run Phillips drives in, he's taking just as many potential runs off the board by failing to get on base. Again, this isn't an advanced concept. You need baserunners to score runs.

Phillips is by no means a bum. He's still a plus defender at a position where defense is critical and offense can be scarce. His numbers are actually better than they look simply because he plays second base.

Unfortunately, though, none of that masks the fact that Phillips is having a bad season at the plate. He's not getting on base, he's an average baserunner, he doesn't hit for much power, and he strikes out too much. He's not getting any younger, either. This might be his worst offensive season ever, but it hasn't been too far below his other seasons, so this might not be a fluky season, either. It's entirely possible he reached his peak in 2011 and he's starting to steadily decline. That might seem sad to some people, but baseball aging curves aren't very sympathetic.

Still, if Phillips' career ended today, he could look back on it as an overall success. 2013 would just be a down year in an otherwise healthy baseball life. Unless he finishes on a hitting rampage, that's how people should view this season. He might've set a career-high in RBIs, but that doesn't change the fact that he hasn't been very good. Without guys like Choo and Joey Votto constantly getting on base in front of him, everybody would realize how much Phillips has struggled. Given how bad his other numbers have been, everybody should realize this, anyway.

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Sabermetrics and the Importance of Youth

It’s no secret that people’s opinions as adults are shaped by events during their youth. Whether we’re talking about politics, social issues, entertainment, or baseball, there are many people who believe everything they believe right now because of how they grew up.

In regards to baseball, this is a big reason (maybe the biggest) why so many people disregard the sabermetric point of view. Sure, advanced stats are a little more complicated than pitcher wins or home runs, but if these people grew up during the 21st century reading articles from writers like Rob Neyer instead of writers like Mitch Albom, it’s hard to imagine their views would still be so old-school. They weren’t brainwashed, they just fallaciously trusted the most visible authority figures, and no one else was really providing more accurate viewpoints. At a certain point, the windows for a new way of looking at baseball were slammed shut. Their minds had been made up, and nothing was going to change them. Some people, like Peter Gammons, kept an open mind and eventually embraced sabermetrics, but he’s the exception to most baseball consumers.

ESPN’s Keith Law talked about this concept on his podcast last week, and he’s mentioned it before that. He says that people should question the opinions spouted from the mouths of talking heads and from the fingertips of writers, even saying that he should be scrutinized. He’s absolutely right, but he probably knows as well as anyone that many people are going to keep valuing extremely flawed, outdated stats and utter things like “grit,” “clutch hitting,” and “the will to win” no matter how many columns Law and other sabermetrically-minded people write.

Baseball fans are more than aware of last year’s AL MVP race between Miguel Cabrera and Mike Trout and are probably tired of hearing about it at this point. The arguments between old-school (pro-Cabrera) and new-school (pro-Trout) baseball consumers became so loud and constant that it made sense for people to make WAR puns. It truly was a war, maybe the biggest one the baseball world has ever seen between traditional stat backers and traditional stat detractors.

But the most interesting part about this debate had nothing to do with those two schools of thought. The people in the middle – who had a hard time deciding which player deserved MVP the most – had the most compelling POVs.

Jim Caple wrote an excellent piece breaking down his thought process in what was an extremely difficult award to vote for. He kept going back-and-forth before eventually deciding on Trout, but he still wasn’t sure he made the right choice. Caple also thought the outrage from the louder sides of the debate was ridiculous. This was a refreshing viewpoint on an issue that felt about as refreshing as a crowded bus during a summer day in St. Louis.

Caple seemed to be struggling between the completely logical Trout side of the argument and the more traditional Cabrera side. I don’t know Caple, but I’m willing to bet he grew up constantly hearing things like “RBIs are extremely important” or “a player who gets his team to the playoffs is more valuable than one who doesn’t.” Maybe Caple’s struggles stemmed from the fact that he couldn’t let go of these ideals he grew up hearing and (likely) accepting.

This brings up one of the more interesting examples from the whole debate: Bill Simmons and his buddy JackO on the BS Report this past October.

Here’s JackO’s opinion on the MVP race:

“I think Trout is the better overall player given he can steal bases and play defense,” he said, “but I just think if a guy wins the freaking Triple Crown he’s gotta be the MVP.”

Again, someone sees the arguments from the sabermetric side but has a hard time looking past that shiny Triple Crown. In JackO’s case, he couldn’t look past the Triple Crown at all. Neither could Simmons.

(Related note: Right after JackO made that comment above, Simmons sarcastically said, "But, Johnny, runs batted in don't matter! It's an arbitrary stat!" He was making fun of the advanced stats defenders, and the way he said it sounded a lot like a jock making fun of a nerd in high school. A few minutes later in the podcast, Simmons referred to himself as a "secret stat nerd." I'm a pretty big Simmons fan, but this section of the podcast was not one of his best moments.)

JackO and Simmons made a couple of other points in favor of Cabrera: Cabrera’s team made the playoffs (without mentioning that Trout’s team won more games), and Cabrera “put the team on his back” the last three months (without crediting Trout for playing nearly as well in that span, especially when considering his defense and baserunning advantages).

The whole conversation consisted of "Trout was amazing, but..." arguments. JackO and Simmons both realized how great Trout was and understood the logic from the pro-Trout side, but old-school baseball viewpoints kept clouding their thoughts. They were like cigarette addicts, unable to get over their terrible habit because they've been smoking their whole lives. No number of studies proving their habit was bad for them could ever completely convince them to make a change.

This old way of looking at baseball will surely become endangered -- if not extinct -- in the next few generations. The fact that last year's MVP debate was so heated is actually a step forward for the sabermetric community even though "their guy" didn't win. Still, while some may want to change the opinions of every traditionally-minded person, that's just not going to happen. Hell, Simmons has talked at the Sloan Conference multiple times in the past and often refers to himself as a stat nerd, yet he still has these old-school ideals. 

Sabermetricians still have a way to go, though, as far as getting their message across. Many people still grow up watching programs like Baseball Tonight and reading old columnists who love to bash advanced stats. Although several MLB players have expressed interest in this newer way of looking at baseball, the majority of them still lean on stats created in the 19th century. They were told those older stats and ideas were meaningful, and they, too, have gone on to tell other players and fans to look at baseball that way. Until players start to accept sabermetrics, or networks stop filling 99% of their TV analyst positions with former players, baseball consumers will inevitably believe what they hear.

Not everyone decided to read Moneyball at the age of 19, or started listening to the (now-extinct) Baseball Today podcast at the same age, or had a college buddy who consumed sports in a sabermetric fashion. I'd probably laugh at a piece like this today if I didn't experience those three things. I'm no smarter than anyone else, I just benefited from good timing. People need to experience things like this at a young age if they're going to adapt. 

Sabermetrics certainly aren't perfect, and people should question them all the time, like Law said. People like me prefer them, but if someone would rather look at traditional numbers, they obviously have that right. But that doesn't mean they are right, and their constant rejection of new methods of baseball consumption is extremely close-minded and stubborn.

It's hard to blame these people too much, though, because they probably grew up hearing about the greatness of the traditional baseball viewpoints and can't imagine a world where these values are misleading or flat-out false. You might have more success convincing a devout Christian, Muslim, or Jew to question his/her religion than convincing a traditional baseball fan to embrace advanced stats.

Hopefully, generations in the near future will grow up looking at baseball through the clearest lens available to them, questioning everything they hear, whether it's "old-school" or "new-school." The further they get into adulthood, the less likely it will be for them to change their minds.

Monday, July 8, 2013

The All-Star Game's Identity Crisis


People inside and outside of baseball need to start making some decisions about the All-Star Game. What do we want it -- and the players participating in it -- to be? Someone might say it's foolish to look at an exhibition game and make it sound so meaningful, but people are even torn in this area. Is it just an exhibition game or is it more?

The fact that it determines home-field advantage in the World Series sure makes it seem like more than an exhibition game. Plus, there are managers that seem intent on winning the game like it determines a playoff spot. Look at Jim Leyland, who gave every Final Vote spot in this year's game to a reliever. More deserving players like Evan Longoria, Adrian Beltre, Josh Donaldson, and Carlos Santana won't even get a chance to get voted on in the final ballot, although can you blame Leyland for wanting more relief help? He's managing a Tigers team that has a great chance to get back to the World Series, so he has every incentive to win the All-Star Game and get the all-important home-field advantage. Bullpen depth is always key and All-Star teams go through pitchers faster than position players (playing in the field and getting a few at bats for 3+ innings would not be considered as much of an injury risk as leaving a pitcher in for that amount of time, so managers also feel more pressure to use more arms).

So, even though Leyland's Final Vote decision is ridiculous, he shouldn't be the one to blame. If the game didn't count, maybe he just goes with the more deserving position players or starting pitchers. That's Major League Baseball's fault.

In the other league, Yasiel Puig is causing a similar stir because he's played in a very small amount of games, not just for this season but for his entire career since this is his rookie year. Many people think it's ludicrous for someone with a 32-game track record to make it over someone who's played for twice as many games this season and has been in the league for years. Others think it's the All-Star game is simply a marketing event, so since Puig is such a big, exciting name, he should get a spot.

(Related note: I highly doubt Puig will draw more fans to the All-Star Game if he's voted in, given that he'll play for an inning or two at most. People aren't going to be saying, "I can't wait to hear Puig's name announced, and possibly see him make some nice defensive plays with maybe -- fingers crossed -- two at bats!" Fans will likely vote him in, which is fine. If the fans are so eager to see him, let them decide. That said, the increase in eyes he'll bring to the game will still be insignificant. People who normally don't watch the All-Star Game aren't going to be glued to their TV waiting to see Puig when they're not sure if or when he'll even get in.)

But Puig is just one extraordinary case. What about Bryce Harper, who has missed a lot of time this year in just his second big-league season? He's exciting, but does he deserve a spot over a proven veteran who's played more this year?

What about Chris Davis over Prince Fielder? On last week's "The Baseball Show with Rany and Joe," Joe Sheehan said Fielder should get the nod because he's been better for several more years than Davis. But Davis has been one of the most exciting players during the first half in which he's played much better than Fielder, so should that overrule a better track record?

The same argument could be had about whether Matt Harvey should start over proven guys like Clayton Kershaw or Adam Wainwright.

Every year, we have these debates and they seem to have been magnified this year with Puig and the relievers in the AL Final Vote. One big step towards clearing up this murky situation would be to stop making the game count. Evidence has shown that home-field advantage has a large effect on the eventual World Series champs, so it's moronic to give a team like the 90-win Wild Card Cardinals from 2011 home-field over the 96-win division champion Texas Rangers -- who played in a tougher division and league -- based on one game in which players from both teams had little-to-no impact. The Cardinals, by the way, won that Series in seven games, with the final two wins coming in front of their home crowd.

Getting rid of this home-field advantage rule would also increase the likelihood that managers would pick more exciting, deserving players as All-Stars instead of relievers who no one has ever heard of.

However, there would still be a divide between the "it's a marketing event" group and the track record group. People like Keith Law -- who's in the former group -- and Sheehan -- who's in the latter -- would probably feel just as passionate about their sides of the argument even if the home-field advantage travesty was eliminated. Managers, players, and fans would likely still feel split, as well.

There will never be an All-Star Game in any sport without people complaining about players who are undeserving or snubbed. It's part of what makes it so fun. I personally think Davis's spot as the starter is well-earned but I certainly don't ignore larger samples and better track records. The MLB All-Star Game will always have some type of identity problem, which isn't really a bad thing.

Still, there needs to be less ambiguity. The AL will have six relievers on this year's All-Star team, which is four, maybe five more than are necessary. There are several starting pitchers and position players who are more deserving.

Plus, there's still a divide between the new-school and old-school way of looking at baseball. Guys with gaudy win, save, and RBI totals (*cough* Brandon Philips *cough*) are still making it over players with much better numbers in actually meaningful statistical categories.

The first step towards eliminating some of this ridiculousness would be getting rid of the "it counts" nonsense, but the All-Star Game will still be more frustrating than it should be. The debating is fun but if people involved with baseball can start to agree on more aspects of the game, the outrage over snubs will feel more like a spousal argument over what movie to see instead of an argument about one of them cheating on the other.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

The Orioles and Their Young Stars are Spitting on Regression

Chris Davis launching a three-run homer off the Yankees' David Phelps on Saturday
I feared this would happen. The Baltimore Orioles have not come back down to earth and likely won't for the rest of the season -- not much, anyway -- after vastly overachieving in 2012. I'm certainly not an Orioles hater -- I really like this team, in fact -- but after a such a fluky 2012 season, part of me wanted them to regress to the near-.500 record they should've had last year.

While people like me looked at Baltimore's 29-9 record in one-run games as an unsustainable, once-in-a-generation outlier that wasn't indicative of the team's true performance, other people pointed to the fantastic bullpen (valid argument), Buck Showalter's managerial skills (ditto), magic (oh boy) the Orioles' grit (please stop), and their "will to win" (/barfing). It wasn't as annoying as the Trout vs. Cabrera MVP debate, but it wasn't too far behind.

People were so reluctant to admit that the Orioles were lucky. Teams with winning percentages over .700 in one-run games have been as rare as, well, teams with the same winning percentages for entire seasons. There's just too much randomness involved in games of such a close margin. Sure, having a good bullpen and a smart tactical manager are major advantages going late into games, but plenty of teams have had those two things and not come close to the .763 winning percentage Baltimore had in one-run games last year.

As a sabermetric-minded baseball consumer, I wanted the "will to win" side of the argument to (hopefully) understand this fact by witnessing major regression from the 2013 Orioles. Problem is, the 2013 Orioles have continued to be good, and even if they're average the rest of the season, they still might make the playoffs. Like I expected, confirmation bias has infected the brains of many people in the "2012 wasn't a fluke!" crowd. Here's an example. And another (out-gut!). One more.

These people are like a guy who's convinced a girl is into him even though she's done everything short of saying, "I'm not interested." "But she had this look in her eyes," he says. The Orioles' record hasn't gotten worse because they've made significant improvements this year. Last year, they were an average team playing well above their heads. This year, they're simply a good team playing just about up to their ability (47-36 actual record, 44-39 Pythagorean record).

The biggest contributor, of course, is Chris Davis, who's gone from a decent hitter with power who strikes out too much to one of the best hitters in the game with all of the power who still strikes out, just not as much.

They've also seen Manny Machado make the leap. He's now one of baseball's best young hitters and an absolute phenom defensively.

J.J. Hardy, Nate McLouth, and Adam Jones have also been having solid seasons. As a whole, Baltimore's offense is 2nd in the majors in WAR and 3rd in wOBA. They're also one of the best fielding teams.

The pitching staff has actually been pretty bad so far this season, so if they improve, this team could get close to the 93-win mark. Legitimately.

Baltimore's record in one-run games right now: 12-11. They've already lost more games in one-run contests in 2013 than they did all of last year, and we just started July. So, people who screamed "regression!" before the season have actually been correct, so far, but because the Orioles have improved their talent level so much, the regression in close games hasn't cost them.

Let me reiterate, I really like this team. Davis, Machado, Jones, and Matt Wieters (if he'd ever hit) are some of my favorite players. Camden Yards is gorgeous. In fact, I didn't even hate last year's team; I just couldn't stand the narratives surrounding it.

That's why the 2013 Orioles have also been frustrating. People still don't think the 93 wins from last season were fluky, and the continued success this year has confirmed their false claims in their heads. The Orioles have been building a quality roster for years and are now experiencing the results of good draft picks, trades, and signings.

This is the first season of a prolonged run of excellent baseball in Baltimore. Not last season. It's OK to admit your team got lucky in 2012, Orioles fans. You got to enjoy a playoff team, regardless of how fortunate they were. From the looks of it, that will be one of many Baltimore playoff teams in the '10s.