The Underground Insight 3.29.07: Shedding Light on the Stats
Posted by JD Koziarski on 03.29.2007
How the rapidly-forming schism between baseball’s old guard and a new breed of strategists has revolutionized the philosophy of baseball. Plus a look at Wood’s latest boo-boo, Junior no longer the center of attention, an Opening Day poem, and more!
Pre-Introduction Introduction
The following is, more or less, the first in a hopefully lengthy run of weekly columns about baseball. This column will be divided into neat sections to soothe the anal-retentive, symmetry-loving nature of the author. Each of these sections has an appropriate, clever little heading (all clever headings subject to change upon future realization that they aren't clever at all). So, without further ado, let us smoothly segue into the first real section of this column.
The Show
Talk of revolution generates images of grand battles, heroic acts of bravery, and the fight for a cause. Such a loaded word reeks of hyperbole when used in relation to hitting a ball with a stick, however, there is no doubt that a war rages on in the baseball world. This war is relatively young, but it traces back to the days where batters were allowed to instruct pitchers where they wanted the ball thrown.
Even back in the nineteenth century, those in the game understood the importance of the statistics. While they may have been horribly misguided in their creation of many of the numbers the baseball world still uses today, they were on track in attempting to quantify the action on the field. All this speaks to the strategic element of baseball. If the game were as rudimentary as hitting a ball with a stick and running along a diamond-shaped path, there would be no real use in keeping track of much of anything. After all, everybody on the offense has the same goal – Hit ball. Run fast. But baseball is more than that, and everybody who watches the games knows it.
As with any untested, unscientific belief system, the entire philosophy of baseball presented myriad questions for some very smart diehard fans. At some point, these people heard, read, or saw something about the game and could not help but ask, "Why?" Why does that number-two hitter have to move the runner over? Why did the manager just pull the starter? Why is that guy complimented for his base-stealing ability when he's safe just 60% of the time? There are thousands of questions, and until some people sat down to figure out the answers the "truth" of the sport came from lore and superstition. Lying eyes and faulty memory told the "facts". The sport was, to an extent, misleading its fans.
As a child, I memorized the numbers on the backs of my baseball cards. I knew the batting averages for players nobody remembers. This meant I knew baseball. At least, that's what people told me. All I could recite is the answer to a division problem: hits divided by at bats. One of the primary tools for player evaluation is no more than a division problem. But what about all those times at plate that aren't counted as at bats? And about the type of hit, does that not matter? It seems to me like a lot of information is missing from my division problem.
I began to ask those questions a few years ago. In the past three or four years, my perspective on baseball has changed entirely. I grew up as a fan of the Chicago White Sox, but I just could not take it anymore. As a fan of the sport and someone who loves logic and truth above all else, I could not justify rooting for a team that did things I found absurd. My question was, "Why am I rooting for a team just because I grew up in the city in which they play?" I had no answer for that. There is no logic to that. I saw no point in rooting for a team that would trade quality prospects for Carl Everett. Twice.
So I stopped.
To tell the truth, it was easy to stop rooting for them a few years ago. Even if they won, which they did in 2005 because of career years from seven pitchers, it just did not feel right backing an organization that did so many things that simply made no sense based on the empirical data. There was another team out there calling for me. I had read a lot about this team in the most misunderstood and vilified book in the history of baseball. I initially read Moneyball because a friend said I would enjoy it. I had no preconceived notions. I had no Joe Morgan-inspired hatred towards Michael Lewis' work. I went into it with an open mind and when I put that book down I realized just how ridiculous my perspective had been.
When I had finally grown weary of Kenny Williams and the Chicago White Sox organization, I had a new home as a fan of the Oakland Athletics. Is that not being a true fan? Maybe I'm not a "true fan" of one team. After all, if the A's organization took a left turn and changed their entire philosophy – and general manager and part owner – I would probably look elsewhere for a team who did things the right way. That's just how I am. The enjoyment of baseball comes from how a team wins far more than which team wins.
I can guarantee that my column on 411Mania.com will not be for everyone. I will bring the revolution of a new way of thinking about baseball to this column. People do not like being told they have been looking at things the wrong way, but I will do that when necessary. But I will never, ever do that without having hard evidence to support my conclusions.
It's time for the dirty word: sabermetrics. It had to be said, even though the very sight of the word fills the blood streams of old school baseball guys and near-extinct baseball reporters with venomous rage. And you, the reader, probably have your own thoughts about this study of baseball. I have heard all the arguments before. They say baseball is played on the field and not in a computer or only nerds who couldn't hit a ball to save their lives believe in that stuff. My favorite of all is the Ken Harrelson argument that, "You can't reinvent the wheel." Well, Hawk, that may be true. But if baseball is the wheel then the one you use is made of stone and is good for little else than a bumpy ride.
So now you know where I stand. I believe in using all the tools available to evaluate the play on the field. I believe in more than a division problem for measuring success. I believe that a handful of teams do things the right way, including the team of which I have become a huge fan, the Oakland A's. And I also believe that if you can, for a few minutes each week, put aside everything you've been told then you may welcome a new perspective.
I have named this column The Underground Insight because the knowledge that people who are very good at what they do enhances the game, but it is being kept out of the spotlight. And no, I am not a mathematician. I just know a good thing when I see it.
Spraying to All Fields
Kerry Wood finds himself on the DL to start the 2007 season.
I'm shocked. Shocked, I say! The slim, trim Kerry Wood had his arm fall off again. Or something. To be perfectly honest, I haven't even paid attention to the specifics of his latest injury because I've heard that song so many times the lyrics are permanently imprinted on my brain. I apologize for not knowing if the radio is playing the Elbow Verse or the Shoulder Chorus. At first, Wood's penchant for poor health was sad; then it got a little comical. Now, it's barely a talking point.
Craig Biggio can't wear symbolic pin in meaningless games.
Everybody is outraged at Major League Baseball for telling Craig Biggio he can't wear his Sunshine Kids pin anymore. He has been wearing it for nearly twenty years and, until now, nobody has seemed to notice. That is because nobody actually watches spring training games closely enough to spot something like that. So if nobody notices a pin on a cap in a spring training game, are you really spreading the word anyway? And aren't we all pretty familiar with the damage cancer inflicts on victims and their families? I fully support Biggio's charity golf tournaments and other fund-raising programs for cancer research, but the issue here is a pin on a cap. I've already spent too much time on this one.
Ken Griffey, Jr moves to right field.
According to David Pinto's Probabilistic Model of Range (PMR), Ken Griffey, Jr. was the second-worst defensive center fielder in baseball last year. While PMR is not perfect, it meshes well enough with the other defensive metrics out there for me to confidently say that Junior bad. He real bad. Similarly, Mitchel Lichtman's Ultimate Zone Rating (UZR) had Griffey as the worst defensive center fielder in baseball in 2006. Under Lichtman's system, Griffey also rates as one of the ten worst defensive outfielders from 2000-2005. Basically, this move was made a couple years too late. For what it's worth to the folks who remember the days of Griffey winning seventy-one consecutive Gold Gloves, the guy who will take over center field for him is Ryan Freel. PMR rates him the second best center fielder in 2006. The Reds will be fine. They won't win enough games to matter, but this switch won't be the reason.
Some quickie predictions just for fun.
AL East: New York Yankees AL Central: Cleveland Indians AL West: Oakland Athletics AL Wild Card: Detroit Tigers
NL East: Philadelphia Phillies NL Central: St. Louis Cardinals NL West: Arizona Diamondbacks NL Wild Card: Milwaukee Brewers
AL Cy Young: Rich Harden AL MVP: Grady Sizemore NL Cy Young: Chris Capuano NL MVP: Albert Pujols
Do you ever make a set of predictions and then shudder when you look at them later? That just happened to me. Whatever. Nobody gets all their crazy pre-season picks right anyway.
Say What?
"We hit too many home runs. Our situational hitting was horrible. This year we're going back to small ball." – Ozzie Guillen
Ozzie will probably fill this space of the column a number of times this season. You have been warned. Can somebody please deliver the message to Mr. Guillen that there is no better thing you can do on offense than hit a home run? I think Ozzie is the only guy on the planet who would prefer a ground out to the right side with a runner on second and nobody out to a two-run homer. And what exactly does Ozzie mean by "going back to small ball," anyway? You mean like the 2005 season when the Sox offense hit 200 home runs (4th in the AL)? Even the most avid small ball fan couldn't possibly think the 2005 White Sox won the World Series because they liked to sacrifice bunt.
Testify!
"I also will read a lot on the computer and a lot of baseball books. I like to read about other players to see how they think and what they went through." – Julio Franco
You see that? At 49 (or 70, 90, or 114 if you want to exaggerate his age like it has never been done before), Franco is still a productive bench player and he recently explained some of his off-season schedule to Stan McNeal at The Sporting News. The reason this quote is so great is because it speaks to the point of the column. Franco focuses on the mental part of the game. He is studying players and doing everything he can to learn. Franco's skills have obviously declined since his prime, but where he may lack in bat speed he can make up for it with intelligence. He might not have a clue about wOBA, WARP3, or EQA but what he does in the off-season uses the same principles.
You Oughta Know
Travis Buck, LF, Oakland Athletics
Born: 11/18/1983
Birthplace: Richland, WA
Height: 6'2"
Weight: 205
Bats: Left
Throws: Right
College: Arizona State
The first You Oughta Know might be a bit of a homer pick, but you'll have to trust me on this one. I wanted to hold off on including Buck on this list, but with the A's outfield health issues he could see some solid playing time with the big league club before long. In two seasons in the minors, Buck has compiled rate stats of .328/.399/.511. He has recently drawn offensive comparisons to a young Jason Giambi; he even kind of looks like him. If Mark Kotsay's back doesn't heal, Shannon Stewart finally needs a bionic foot transplant, and Dan Johnson's eyes work like they did last season, Buck could be a regular in the A's lineup before the All-Star break.
Money in the Bank
If you happen to be in Vegas before the beginning of the baseball season, you might want to check out the season-long Over/Under bets. I have seen the Cleveland Indians at 85.5 wins and with a revamped bullpen they should not lead the known universe in bullpen suckage anymore. I think they have enough to win the stacked AL Central with around 95 wins. Remember that gambling is illegal in most places so I'm not condoning that sort of thing.
And I also make no guarantees, even if this section is called Money in the Bank. Sometimes banks get robbed.
This story is not getting nearly enough play, so kudos to Red Sox designated hitter, David Ortiz, for a fantastic gesture. Last year, Ortiz met diehard Red Sox fan, Justin Rollins, when Rollins attended a game against the Phillies. Rollins was set to be deployed to Iraq, and Ortiz promised to dedicate a home run to him (his home run that day was a game winner). According to Rollins' family, he said, "'If he hits this ball out of the park, I can go to Iraq and die a happy man."
Earlier this month, Rollins did die while serving the United States in Iraq. Ortiz remembered his visit with the soldier and has sent the family an autographed jersey and two baseballs. One of the balls will be buried with Rollins. A jersey and some baseballs won't bring Justin Rollins back, but the recognition from Ortiz has given this family some comfort and that's really about all he can do anyway.
Link of the Week
My very favorite baseball blog is the only logical choice for the first LOTW. Fire Joe Morgan is a refreshingly witty take on the world of baseball, specifically, but sports in general. If you like me, you'll love FJM. If you think my crazy, newfangled ideas are ruining the sport, then you'll wish the worst plagues of the world on the guys over there. But, in order to wish those horrible things, you have to go there.
The E-mail Game
I appreciate any and all feedback. Of course, I will delete all hate mail with extreme prejudice because that's detrimental to my fragile self-esteem. But the best of the ego-stroking mails o' worship will certainly be printed here.
Enter the Sandman
Writing the first column is a lot like the first day of class. A lot really doesn't get done because of all the little things that need to be established. At the expense of some more compelling baseball commentary, I decided to use this week's column to take the time to stand up in front of the class and tell you a little about myself. I have to disclose every bit of relevant information if I intend to persuade even one person out there. Next week will have a lot more baseball and a lot less prose detailing how I got to be the baseball fan I am today. I wish everybody a very, very happy Opening Day and good luck to all your non-AL West favorite teams. The first edition of The Underground Insight will now conclude with a fun little poem celebrating the beginning of the baseball season.
Opening Day
Arizona is now a memory
the heat of the desert, history.
The people are cheering wildly
and the wind is blowing mildly.
A screaming vendor yells, "Get your beer!"
While the umpire shouts, "Yer outta here!"
I scramble on deck to test my wood;
with donut wrapped 'round, the swing feels good.
A hard, bouncing ball is nicely played.
I tighten my gloves, my hitting aide.
Time for my first at bat of the year.
Ball number one whizzes past my ear.
I peer at the pitcher with wide eyes
and I watch strike one speed past my thighs.
Determined to swing, I take a rip.
The contact sounds like a cracking whip.
The crowd jumps up and the ball soars high.
I watch as it flies through the blue sky.
I trot to first and let out a growl
when to my dismay the ball hooks foul.
One and two count, the pressure's on me.
A swing and miss; the ump yells "Strike Three!"
Back to the dugout, feeling no shame,
no big deal, we will still win the game.
Opening Day brings a new season.
Despite my luck, I smile with reason.
I may have struck out, but I'm no scrub.
Things could be worse: I could be a Cub.
