Thursday, November 15, 2007

Baseball and Phenomenology


Insert "Relationship With Crazy Psycho Girlfriend Joke" here. (I mean seriously people, no one can think of new material?)

News Item: A-Rod back to the Yankees?
Commentary: Yes, do it. Do it now. A-Rod is worth at least 5 Wins Above Replacement Player by any projection method. His bat is irreplacable. Miguel Cabrera will cost the future. A-Rod costs only greenbacks. Do it.

Blogging:

Murray Chass awhile ago wrote that:
""I suppose that if stats mongers want to sit at their computers and play with these things all day long, that’s their prerogative. But their attempt to introduce these new-age statistics into the game threatens to undermine most fans’ enjoyment of baseball and the human factor therein.

People play baseball. Numbers don’t."
First of all, I believe the average sports fan is not a mathematically inclined person. I believe most of them watch professional wrestling, eats pork rinds and is intimidated by the word "algorithm."

Second of all, I believe they are afraid of change. "My daddy believed in RBI's and WINS so I believe in RBI's too! I'm never EVAH gonna change! Nuh uh!"

Third of all, I believe that there is a lot more going on here than even the average sports fan, in all his deep-seated wisdom understands.

The enjoyment of sports lies in the human factor. It lies in having waited a week to see A-Rod hit #500. It's in the incredible heart-pounding tension that we feel when we see Mariano battle against David Ortiz in a 14-pitch at-bat that ends up in a fly ball caught on the right-field warning track. That is the human element. That is where sports writers excel. They excel in commemorating the past, celebrating heroes, honoring them with the immortality of words. That is the realm of phenomenological living.

Sabermetric baseball analysis does not attempt to go there. Objective, rational, scientific analysis does not tell you to join "Grady's Ladies" and squeal everytime Grady Sizemore comes up to bat. I sat next to a girl from Cleveland who did this once and that is totally her perogative. The sports writers are good at that, at the human element.

Where they are so god-awful terrible is that they have no concept of how the game "works" as far as what factors contribute to victory is concerned. Baseball writers and a good number of fans are obsessed with National League Baseball. If they enjoy that, so be it. Different strokes for different folks.

What makes them hate sabermetric analysis though is the fact that it has proven time and time again that "small-ball" is by and large the absolute dumbest way to play the game. Bunt for a hit. Steal a base. Sacrifice bunt to move the runner to third. Sacrifice fly to right field for the run. This is the least efficient way to play the game, the way that scores the least amount of runs. It is a recipe for losing teams. Old-time baseball fans fight this revelation as much as they can.

What the typical fan of the National League ballpark goes for is to watch a circus. They want to see lots of jumping, lots of diving and dirty uniforms and lots of meaningless running. If that is what they want to see then by all means, they can go there.

I am glad that the Yankees don't play a small ball kind of game. Small ball, bunting, sacrifices, stealing bases is the exclusive realm of players who are just not very good. Players like Scott Podsednik, Chone Figgins, Juan Pierre, and so on. Yes, even Phil Rizzuto. Phil Rizzuto, based on accomplishments alone, should not be in the Hall of Fame.

Sabermetric analysis reveals the truth of the game. It is an invaluable tool for understanding what is actually happening, what has happened and what will happen. The way that the fans react to it is more of an indication about what kind of fan that person is rather than what these numbers are and mean.

Personally, I'm a fan who wants victory. I want to see Jorge Posada run out to Mariano Rivera at about this time next year, hoisting him up crying tears of joy for bringing the 27th championship back to the Bronx. This past summer, as I took my little sis out to the Stadium, I sat next to this old African-American gentleman. He was a great fan to sit next to. He told me about the sound of the ball in air as George Brett hit that home run in the pine tar game. He described the whizzing sound it made right before it caromed off the Stadium facade. It was like I was sitting next to history itself. But then A-Rod came up to bat.

"Boy, look at all that space there. He could easily drag bunt for a hit right there."
"But he's A-ROD. The guy's on pace for 65 home runs! Don't you want this team to win?"
"Son, I've been around this game long enough. I've seen them hoist plenty trophies. I came tonight for a show."
"I'm not there yet, old man, I want to see them hoist the Commisioner's cup."
"Hahaha, give it time kid."


And then A-Rod hit a go-ahead double to rescue Moose out of a jam. I smirked at the old man and he just kind of shrugged. To each his own, I suppose. As it is, I love the Yankees for what they represent: the unending thirst for improvement, for progress, for victory. It's the only organizational philosophy that befits a city like New York. There is no success outside of the World Series. We are not the Mets, we are not the Red Sox, Dodgers, Rockies or Brewers. No pennnant means no success. This is why I love the Yankees. This is why I'm a fan.

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