After a string of about 17 straight years, this was the second year in a row I did not spend Thanksgiving in Las Vegas. In fact, it's been two years since I have been out West at all. That needs to change. Still I got to Florida for the long weekend and spent Thanksgiving at a tiki bar on the waterfront -- so that's almost as good as Vegas.
Sorry to be so late this month -- certainly the latest I've ever been. I was swamped beyond reason for the last half of November and the start of December was no better. I've had an adventure lining up a new insurance carrier, been overwhelmed at my day job, and generally trying to follow up on nine-million other things including travel shenanigans. More on that next month (maybe).
[Books, Baseball] Book Look: Cubs Way
[Movies] Flick Check: The Irishman
[Good Links] Bits and Pieces
Sunday, December 15, 2019
[Books, Baseball] Book Look: Cubs Way, by Tom Verducci
Subtitled "The Zen of Building the Best Team in Baseball and Breaking the Curse", this is the story of how Theo Epstien, the man who found a way to break the Red Sox curse, turned around and did the same thing for arguably an even more deeply cursed franchise, the Cubs.
Most books like this tend to be more like puff pieces; sentimental memorabilia for folks who want to relive some previous glory and while there is some of that, Verducci does a much better job of providing some tactical and strategic angles to building a winner than most authors. You get some valuable glimpses into how much information is available in the contemporary stat-driven game. To wit:
Among the other interesting aspects on display is how Epstien (and presumably his peers) approached building the team in the same way you would build a business. You start with a plan -- a set of strategies and goals and an explanation of how that gets you to win the World Series. Here the book loses the thread a bit. We are given a brief outline of the plan as presented to the organization. We are then introduced to the players acquired to make it happen, often with very affecting biographical info, but we are not really given deep info on how it was decided these players were the ones to fulfill the plan. This leaves fairly sizeable hole in our picture.
And still you need luck. As Billy Beane pointed out in Moneyball, over a 162 games playing the probabilities works out. Over the dozen or so games in the postseason it becomes more of a crapshoot. And so, despite all the sharp and clever scheming and planning to build the team, the Cubs needed in the postseason too. They needed a clutch hit from a veteran on his way out. They needed their top reliever to keep his fragile emotional state in check and pitch more innings than he ever expected.
Should you read Cubs Way? If you are interested in re-living the Cubs World Series championship, then absolutely. I am still amazed at a single statistic: The celebration was attended by 5 Million people. One of the largest gatherings of the human species in all history. If you are looking for insight into the business side of baseball or you are a full on stats-head, it's not quite as satisfying, but still worthwhile.
Aside: If you've been reading along, you know I adopted the Astros as my back up baseball team, as I have been spending some time in Houston, have been to a couple of games, and the Tigers (always my first team) are dead in the water. The Astros lost the World Series to the Nationals -- I think the only Series where all seven games were won by the visiting team. Big disappointment, but the real story came later when they were accused of using electronic means to steal signs from opposing teams. As the narrative is currently formulated, during their World Series championship year, 2017, the Astros used a video camera to relay the opposing catchers signs then someone in one of the stadium tunnels would bang a trashcan to indicate the pitch such that it could be heard by the Astros batter. It is an important scandal, especially since the Astros won the series. As they say: Big, if true.
Most books like this tend to be more like puff pieces; sentimental memorabilia for folks who want to relive some previous glory and while there is some of that, Verducci does a much better job of providing some tactical and strategic angles to building a winner than most authors. You get some valuable glimpses into how much information is available in the contemporary stat-driven game. To wit:
- Video is so detailed that pitchers can be evaluated on the rpms they put on their breaking balls.
- The measurement of Exit Speed, or the speed of the ball off the hitters bat, has taken on a great importance.
- There is so much situational data -- how a player performs in specific circumstances (# of outs, # times through the rotation, how the hitter performs vs. pitcher's strengths, and all these in combination) -- that it needs to be reduced to a few simple numbers so in-game decisions can be made quickly.
- Incredible contortions are made for the psychological well-being of the players -- beyond just making should that all conceivable distractions are eliminated. Whatever elaborate mental preparations a player desires are supported completely -- everything from food choices to high end fitness equipment to personal psychologists.
Among the other interesting aspects on display is how Epstien (and presumably his peers) approached building the team in the same way you would build a business. You start with a plan -- a set of strategies and goals and an explanation of how that gets you to win the World Series. Here the book loses the thread a bit. We are given a brief outline of the plan as presented to the organization. We are then introduced to the players acquired to make it happen, often with very affecting biographical info, but we are not really given deep info on how it was decided these players were the ones to fulfill the plan. This leaves fairly sizeable hole in our picture.
And still you need luck. As Billy Beane pointed out in Moneyball, over a 162 games playing the probabilities works out. Over the dozen or so games in the postseason it becomes more of a crapshoot. And so, despite all the sharp and clever scheming and planning to build the team, the Cubs needed in the postseason too. They needed a clutch hit from a veteran on his way out. They needed their top reliever to keep his fragile emotional state in check and pitch more innings than he ever expected.
Should you read Cubs Way? If you are interested in re-living the Cubs World Series championship, then absolutely. I am still amazed at a single statistic: The celebration was attended by 5 Million people. One of the largest gatherings of the human species in all history. If you are looking for insight into the business side of baseball or you are a full on stats-head, it's not quite as satisfying, but still worthwhile.
Aside: If you've been reading along, you know I adopted the Astros as my back up baseball team, as I have been spending some time in Houston, have been to a couple of games, and the Tigers (always my first team) are dead in the water. The Astros lost the World Series to the Nationals -- I think the only Series where all seven games were won by the visiting team. Big disappointment, but the real story came later when they were accused of using electronic means to steal signs from opposing teams. As the narrative is currently formulated, during their World Series championship year, 2017, the Astros used a video camera to relay the opposing catchers signs then someone in one of the stadium tunnels would bang a trashcan to indicate the pitch such that it could be heard by the Astros batter. It is an important scandal, especially since the Astros won the series. As they say: Big, if true.
[Movies] Flick Check: The Irishman
This one is a bit different for Scorsese. Yes, it's about organized crime. Yes, it has De Niro and Pesci. But this time we throw in Pacino for good measure. And, more interestingly, the arc here is not just a storied event, although there is a main event, but an entire life. It is long -- three and a half hours - and it probably should have been shorter, or longer and a trilogy, or perhaps a mini-series.
To summarize, in the first third of the movie we follow the rise of Frank Sheeran -- an ambitious, corrupt, delivery truck driving tough guy (De Niro) as he climbs in rank in the mob to enforcer and hitman. The second part sees him essentially go on loan to Jimmy Hoffa (Pacino) with whom he develops a bond. In third part Hoffa goes so far off the rails that the De Niro character is ordered by the mob boss (Pesci) to kill Hoffa.
Along the way we are treated to dramatized drive-bys to many mob mythologies: Kennedy being made president by the mob who are then responsible for his assassination, the Bay of Pigs being an attempt to save all the mob investments in Havana, and of course Hoffa's murder. We are also given a glimpse into the effect mob life on the families, especially through the eyes of Sheeran's daughters.
I'll take this opportunity to point out the women play a very small role in this movie. As do any minorities. It's a story almost exclusive of white men, mostly old ones at that. If that bothers you, you should not watch it. If you watch it even though it bothers you, you can't say you weren't warned so at least admit you chose to be bothered. The nice thing about Netflix is your right to press "exit" on your remote and pick something else to watch.
In the canon of Scorsese mob films, this is more contemplative. It breaks no truly new ground -- in fact, I hold a minor suspicion that Scorsese had the idea to remake The Godfather in his image -- the choice of the mob life, the costs beyond the violence, and regrets at the end, all without the Coppola romanticism.
This leads to another interesting aspect of the film: bringing Pacino into the mix with De Niro and Pesci. De Niro is De Niro. He plays a solid, multi-layered character, but it's not a stretch for him. Pacino is well known to have had pretty much one character since Scent of a Woman -- a mildly unhinged, flamboyant loudmouth. That how he plays Hoffa, and it fits since that's what Hoffa was. The real standout is Pesci. Here he plays the opposite of the profane psycho role he normally takes. Instead he's a wizened, hyper-competent mob boss, a figure of respect, in fact, almost like Marlon Brando's Vito Corleone in reputation.
The Irishman is a terrific movie. Scorsese still makes terrific movies. It's human heart is on display, the lack of which is the thing he decried about superhero movies so he's practicing what he preaches. If he's not shaking up the world with Taxi Driver or Mean Streets anymore, he's still one of the great ones. The Irishman is proof.
To summarize, in the first third of the movie we follow the rise of Frank Sheeran -- an ambitious, corrupt, delivery truck driving tough guy (De Niro) as he climbs in rank in the mob to enforcer and hitman. The second part sees him essentially go on loan to Jimmy Hoffa (Pacino) with whom he develops a bond. In third part Hoffa goes so far off the rails that the De Niro character is ordered by the mob boss (Pesci) to kill Hoffa.
Along the way we are treated to dramatized drive-bys to many mob mythologies: Kennedy being made president by the mob who are then responsible for his assassination, the Bay of Pigs being an attempt to save all the mob investments in Havana, and of course Hoffa's murder. We are also given a glimpse into the effect mob life on the families, especially through the eyes of Sheeran's daughters.
I'll take this opportunity to point out the women play a very small role in this movie. As do any minorities. It's a story almost exclusive of white men, mostly old ones at that. If that bothers you, you should not watch it. If you watch it even though it bothers you, you can't say you weren't warned so at least admit you chose to be bothered. The nice thing about Netflix is your right to press "exit" on your remote and pick something else to watch.
In the canon of Scorsese mob films, this is more contemplative. It breaks no truly new ground -- in fact, I hold a minor suspicion that Scorsese had the idea to remake The Godfather in his image -- the choice of the mob life, the costs beyond the violence, and regrets at the end, all without the Coppola romanticism.
This leads to another interesting aspect of the film: bringing Pacino into the mix with De Niro and Pesci. De Niro is De Niro. He plays a solid, multi-layered character, but it's not a stretch for him. Pacino is well known to have had pretty much one character since Scent of a Woman -- a mildly unhinged, flamboyant loudmouth. That how he plays Hoffa, and it fits since that's what Hoffa was. The real standout is Pesci. Here he plays the opposite of the profane psycho role he normally takes. Instead he's a wizened, hyper-competent mob boss, a figure of respect, in fact, almost like Marlon Brando's Vito Corleone in reputation.
The Irishman is a terrific movie. Scorsese still makes terrific movies. It's human heart is on display, the lack of which is the thing he decried about superhero movies so he's practicing what he preaches. If he's not shaking up the world with Taxi Driver or Mean Streets anymore, he's still one of the great ones. The Irishman is proof.
[Good Links] Bits and Pieces
Notes and quotes and links of interest:
*Last month I wrote about the Coming California Crack Up. I'm beginning to think I should make it on ongoing series. To wit, from Slate Star Codex:
*The breaking of the 2-hour marathon sparked a lot of discussion about what counts as a genuine athletic achievement in the wake of technological and strategic manipulation. Are the shoes legal? Was the course realistic? Is drafting and pacing fair? The time was unofficial. And no, it probably shouldn't "count" per se, but the achievement was remarkable. I pulled this off Twitter:
*Very sad, but not surprised, to see Lodge 49 cancelled. Not surprised because it was the only truly character driven show on TV, apart from Better Call Saul which enters its last season shortly, and nobody seems to watch those. It may yet find a new home and survive, but if there were a vibrant market for such shows there would be more of them on the air.
*When I read for pure entertainment I often resort to crime fiction. I'll be delving into this list of great crime fiction from Ethan Iverson for while, I suspect.
*One of the ongoing themes here is how the world is moving beyond me as I age, how all the familiar cultural artifacts and activities slowly drift out of sight. How We'll Forget John Lennon breaks it all down scientifically.
*Last month I wrote about the Coming California Crack Up. I'm beginning to think I should make it on ongoing series. To wit, from Slate Star Codex:
California passes a law saying that freelance journalists may not write more than 35 stories per year, which many freelance journalists argue is not enough to survive on and would essentially destroy freelance journalism as a career option. The story seems to be that California wanted to ban Uber from classifying its drivers as freelancers, and the easiest way to do this was just to ban freelance work and carve out exceptions for any form of freelance work the state didn't want to ban, and whoever was in charge of exception-making randomly chose the number "35" for freelance journalism....Anyway, I think California journalists should feel lucky to be allowed 35 stories; most new housing in the state is limited to two.
*The breaking of the 2-hour marathon sparked a lot of discussion about what counts as a genuine athletic achievement in the wake of technological and strategic manipulation. Are the shoes legal? Was the course realistic? Is drafting and pacing fair? The time was unofficial. And no, it probably shouldn't "count" per se, but the achievement was remarkable. I pulled this off Twitter:
"Amuse yourself at the gym today by seeing how many times in a row you can run 100 meters in 17 seconds. It's pretty easy to begin with! If you can do it 422 times in a row-without breaks-then congratulations, you can run a marathon as fast as Eliud Kipchoge did this morning."
*Very sad, but not surprised, to see Lodge 49 cancelled. Not surprised because it was the only truly character driven show on TV, apart from Better Call Saul which enters its last season shortly, and nobody seems to watch those. It may yet find a new home and survive, but if there were a vibrant market for such shows there would be more of them on the air.
*When I read for pure entertainment I often resort to crime fiction. I'll be delving into this list of great crime fiction from Ethan Iverson for while, I suspect.
*One of the ongoing themes here is how the world is moving beyond me as I age, how all the familiar cultural artifacts and activities slowly drift out of sight. How We'll Forget John Lennon breaks it all down scientifically.
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