[Sports, Baseball, Hockey] Thing Are Getting Interesting

I've been watching a fair amount of sports lately.  Baseball and Hockey.  Both have been wonderful this year.

My local hockey team, the Red Wings, is not in contention.  (Aside: Detroit sports teams except the Lions -- Red Wings, Tigers, Pistons --  tend to be competitive once every 15 or twenty years.  The Lions tend to compete once every century.)  So as a result I spent the playoffs wondering who should be my favorite.  There are a number of ways to assess it. The closest teams to southern headquarters in Savannah would either be the Tampa Bay Lightning or the Carolina Hurricanes. There are two other teams that are related to places I love, the Florida Panthers and the Las Vegas Golden Knights. One other thing I enjoy about all four of these back-up teams is the irony of warm weather hockey.  That must really rub Canadians raw.  

A couple other teams that I hold a certain irrational affection for are the Seattle Kraken, just because I love to roll my Rs and say Krrrrraken.  I also like the Arizona Coyotes because they are the ultimate underdogs.  They are not particularly good, have weak fan support, lost their arena and ended up having to play on a local college campus.  If they were good, they could be like the Indians in Major League or the Jamaican Bobsled Team, or dare I say it, The Mighty Ducks. 

We are coming up fast on the Stanley Cup Finals and it's Vegas versus Florida, so I'm cool with either winner.  Truly there is no sport more fast and exciting than playoff hockey.  Hockey's not-so-secret weapon is changing lines on the fly.  The result is that skaters get on the ice and go all out for ideally 90 seconds and they are replaced on the fly by fresh skaters.  In fitness terms, think of it as 90 seconds of anaerobic exercise.  To compare to football, suppose that instead of after a play everybody stopping and setting the ball and huddling up, a batch of fresh players came on and just kept going where the last play left off.  (Would that be rugby?).  The action is relentless and game stoppages are relatively few -- you can get 4 to 5 minutes without a break; emotions and momentum and fate can turn in an instant.

The average hockey game is 2 hours and 20 minutes.  The average baseball game is 2 hours and 38 minutes this year, down from about 3:10 the last few years.  So in other words about as long as the standard mildly bloated Hollywood movie.  

Truth be told, the pitch clock in baseball has made the games much more watchable.  It's interesting that they were modifying the rules surrounding the 20 second pitch clock almost up to the start of the season.  Technically the rule is that the pitcher must pitch within 15 seconds if there are no runners and 20 seconds if there are runners on.  There is also stress on the hitter in that he must be in the box and prepared with 8 seconds left on the clock.  There has been some getting used to, but mostly it's really moved the games along well.  

I'm less enamored with some of the other rule changes but I understand them.  There is now a limit on trips to the mound, a limit on the number of times a pitcher can throw to hold a runner, and a minimum number of batters a relief pitcher must face in some circumstances.  These remove an aspect of strategy, but perhaps open another, in the name of stopping baseball from becoming like football where you stop after every play and re-adjust to maximize your personnel. One I continue to not like is the forbidding of "the shift", overloading one side of the infield to account for batter tendencies.  This was outlawed in the name of "making the game more athletic", but I don't know.  It does seem to have improved overall batting average so maybe that was the subtle goal.  More offense = more eyeballs?  Maybe.

A couple of narratives have started to build in the season.  One is the Tampa Bay Rays getting off to an enormous start.  One is the comic occurrence where, as I write this, the entire AL East has better records than the entire AL Central (including the Tigers).   Last place in the AL East is better than first place in the Central.  Sheesh.  Another interesting thing to note is that the team with two of the best players in the game and stars of the World Classic from the summer -- Shohei Otani and Mike Trout -- continues to struggle to stay above .500.  Lastly, the Mets, who have reunited the last great Tigers pitching duo of Max Scherzer and Justin Verlander, are also treading water around .500.

In any event it looks like it's going to play out to be one of the more interesting and enjoyable baseball seasons in recent memory.  

Addendum:  The most fun reporting on baseball is generally coming from Jomboy Media on Youtube.  Simultaneously reverent and irreverent.  Both informative and entertaining.  Recommended.

[Baseball, Sports] Baseball Been Berry Berry Good

My attention to baseball has waxed and waned over the years and I haven't picked up a bat or a glove for decades, but I find it quite comforting that baseball keeps plowing forward, evolving, and every now and then grabs my attention again.

There were some truly great performances this season.  I am writing this the day after Aaron Judge hit his 62nd home run, passing Roger Maris for the most home runs by a player without a bloodstream full of anabolic steroids.   He is also very close to winning the triple crown, something that happens maybe once a decade.  Surely one of the greatest seasons in history. Oddly - or perhaps not - there hasn't been the fanfare there was for the record breaking steroid monsters back before the turn of the century.  Perhaps a reaction to it not being officially a new record (although it is an American League record), or perhaps a cynical public is waiting for the steroid shoe to drop.  I don't think it will.  Aaron Judge is a sizable dude, but he doesn't wear the hallmark bloated head and popeye torso of the steroid goons.  Oh and also:  Ruth (60), Maris (61), Judge (62) -- all Yankees.  Why?  Deserves analysis by some stat geek doesn't it? 

The other Ruth-ian performance this year came from Shohei Ohtani. Ohtani is really the first legitimate two way player (pitcher plus something else on non-pitching days) since the years when Ruth was a pitcher for Boston.  Ruth was a first class pitcher and could swing a bat better than just about anyone.  Ohtani is the inverse, an elite pitcher who is also a solid designated hitter on his non-pitching days.  Ohtani came over to the Angels from Japan after a few successful years with the Nippon Ham Fighters (why would anyone want to fight a ham?).  A Japanese import, playing two ways as designated hitter in the National League.  A unique thing that only contemporary baseball could produce.

A surprise feel-good story late in the season was Albert Pujols chasing his 700th home run.  In his prime with the Cardinals he was the best in the game.  He got traded to the Angels and immediately dropped off to be a good, steady, but rapidly aging, hitter.  Still he kept accumulating home runs.  He got sentimentally traded back to the Cardinals for his final season and started pounding the ball and lifted his total to 703, right behind Hank Arron and Babe Ruth for the non-steroidal #3 position (4th overall).  Great story.  I love it when old guys make one last stand.

Performances aside, the evolution of the game and its presentation has been fascinating to me, even if I disagree with most of the changes.  A number of TV outlets are providing advanced stats live, which I can easily geek out for.  ESPN keeps a running list of what pitches are thrown and at what speed as the at-bat progresses.  

There have been attempts to speed up the game. Once you reach extra innings you start the top and bottom of each inning with a runner at second, hopefully making extra-inning games less interminable.  Also, you can now intentionally walk a batter by just signaling to the ump rather than go through the motions of throwing four balls way outside.  Again, an attempt to save a few seconds. Evidence suggests these have been useless in speeding things along.  

This year, there is also the option of using something called PitchCom.  The catcher wears a device on his wrist with a series of buttons which transmit the pitch call to the pitcher via a speaker in his hat.  This is almost certainly a reaction to the Astros sign stealing scandal of a few years back.

All of these, especially PitchCom seem kind of gimmicky.  I understand the intent, but all of these just remove a human aspect of the game.  You no longer have to work to get a runner in scoring position.  You no longer have to worry about a passed ball on a pitch out.  You no longer have to be clever about hiding your signals.  Unlike, replay which is  an attempt to get things right, these just reduce the random variables in the game without any real payoff.  Games still average over 3 hours.  I could do without all of these and kind of hope they go away, but I admit they've been interesting.

Another development in recent years is something called "The Shift" where teams will make drastic changes in the positioning of the fielders based on the proclivity of the hitter. For instance, for a left-handed hitter who constantly pulls the ball a team will position the third baseman halfway between second and third -- roughly where the shortstop usually plays, the shortstop well to the first base side of second, the second baseman between the shortstop and the first baseman -- probably well back into the outfield, and the first baseman right on the line.  It turns out the idea that the batter can cleverly control where he hits the ball is probably false.  For the most part, if you have a tendency to hit the ball a certain way, trying to change that just makes you a worse hitter.  As a batter, Where you will hit the ball is highly predictable.  As a result, The Shift has been enormously successful.  So successful at reducing overall offense (despite the individual performances above) that MLB has banned it starting next year.  Again, I think it's the wrong decision.  If batters don't want to face a shift, they should learn to hit to all fields. Killing The Shift may boost offense, but it will make things a little less interesting for a fan like me.

Back to the duration of games, I'd be remiss if I didn't point to The Savannah Bananas, the Harlem Globetrotters of baseball.  Their games move like lighting because they live by their own rules:

1.) Every inning counts. The team that scores the most runs in an inning gets a point. The first team to five points wins.

2.) A time limit of two hours. No inning starts after the game gets to be two hours old. There’s a tiebreaker format if a game is tied when the limit is up (see below.)

3.) No stepping out of the batter’s box. If a batter steps away from the box at any point, it’s a strike.

4.) No bunting.

5.) Batters can steal first. If there’s a wild pitch or a passed ball during any pitch of an at-bat, the batter can go to first.

6.) No walks. If a pitcher throws a fourth ball, the batter takes off toward first base in a sprint. The catcher then has to throw the ball around to every defensive player on the field before it becomes live. The hitter is allowed to advance to as many bases as possible before the ball becomes live. The ball doesn’t have to touch the pitcher or catcher.

7.) A one-on-one showdown tiebreaker. If a game is tied when the time is up, each team picks a pitcher and a hitter to face off, with the defensive team only having a catcher and pitcher in the field. If a hitter puts it in play, he has to make it home to get a point before the pitcher gets the ball and throws it to the catcher. If a pitcher gets a strikeout or throws the runner out before scoring, there’s no point for the hitting team. The first team to prevent the other from scoring wins.

8.) No mound visits from any coaches or players.

9.) If a fan catches a foul ball, it’s an out. Bring your glove!

Sounds crazy right?  But good luck getting a ticket to one of their games.  I would not want MLB to adopt these rules verbatim, but if they could do something about hitters stepping out of the box or pitchers wandering aimless around between pitches, they could probably cut a half hour of run time on average.

The last thing that I have enjoyed this year is the discovery of Jomboy media on youtube.  They provide highlights and commentary for many sports but mostly baseball and do a great job of digging deep into events, lip reading, and comic observations.  Probably not for the kids, but better than looking for highlights on ESPN.

I'm looking forward to spending some time following the playoffs.  Things are getting interesting.

[Baseball] Houston Asterisks

I have to imagine there are a lot of broken hearts in Houston. As you know I adopted the Astros as my fan-away-from-home team when I started spending time in Houston and going to the games. My proper team is, and will always be, the Tigers so at least I am somewhat insulated from the fallout from the cheating scandal -- although not the slightest bit insulated from 98 losses in '17 and '18 and 114 (!) losses last year.

Well, at least they were honest losses.

Nope, that doesn't help.

Anyway, in case you haven't been paying attention, the Astros were revealed to be blatantly cheating via illegal sign-stealing during their 2017 World Series victory year. Naturally, once word got out, accusations, some highly speculative, compounded. Indignation spiralled, not all of it self-serving. I won't recap everything here.

What is going to be fascinating to me is what happens going forward. The MLB players are complaining that the punishment wasn't enough; that the Series and other awards should be stripped and maybe even rewarded to offended parties. Pitchers who got sent down to the minors after poor showings against the Astros are now martyrs. Pete Rose applied for reinstatement claiming his transgressions weren't as bad. The new Astros manager has asked MLB to take steps to protect the Astros from physical retaliation, both on- and off-field, when they are on the road. Honestly, the Astros might be grateful for the coronavirus as a distraction.

One thing is for sure, as we saw with the steroid scandal, everyone involved is tainted for life. The Astros organization has probably a decade before it recovers, in reputation, competitiveness, and financially. Much depends on how their fans react. If there is a chill in the air in Houston towards the Astros, that points to a long time until recovery. Most of the current players will have to have moved on before things begin to normalize. Would you buy a jersey with the name of a known, admitted cheater on it? You might cheer their achievements but would you pay top dollar for a box seat? (Contrarianism: If you are dedicated to the Astros for life, now might be a good time to purchase season tickets. They may never be cheaper.)

The Astros players may never recover. Have a bad year and everyone will think it's because you stopped cheating. Have a great year and everyone will be suspicious that something shady is going on. Endorsements will plummet. Your wikipedia page will be riddled with references to the scandal. And should you be good enough to be considered for the Hall of Fame, don't hold your breath. Worse this will affect your family right along with you.

Maybe it would have been kinder for MLB to strip them of their prizes and suspend the players. They could have at least claimed to have paid their debt and maybe started with a clean slate. As of now they are doomed to be walking asterisks.

[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:

• 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.

And yet, when assembling his team, Epstien gives as much emphasis to character as skills.

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.

[Baseball] The Tigers of '68

Fifty years ago. Good lord, that's a long time. I had just turned 8. I didn't know nothin' 'bout baseball, but everyone was talking about it. My mom had to explain it to me (she was Red Sox fan). When I first played with the kids in the neighborhood, they positioned me at shortstop, a word I had never heard and thought was made up out of pity to give me, the smallest kid in the world, a place to play where I wouldn't cause problems.

Things were very different then. The old folks who always tell stories about how when they were kids they just went off alone all day, fending for themselves, parents not bothering to keep track of them. They (we) aren't lying. It really was like like that. Maybe around dusk your mom would start to wonder where you were and yell out the back door for you to come to dinner.

We played a lot of tag; wandered the woods across the street catching tadpoles and garter snakes. Occasionally we would get enough kids together for a sandlot game, but usually we played a game we just called "500". One kid would bat (by tossing the ball in the air himself and hitting it), the others would go out and field. A grounder was worth 10, and pop-up was worth 50, and liner or fly was worth a 100. Once one kid got to 500 he got to be the new batter.

Baseball was different too. There were no divisions, just a bunch of teams in the A.L. and N.L. They never played each other during the regular season (other than during the All-Star game) and after 162 games, the teams with the best record in each league played for the championship; no such thing as playoffs. The games all started at 1pm local time. Since the Tigers opponents, the St. Louis Cardinals, played in central time, the 2pm Eastern start time meant I could run home at top speed from school (a little over half a mile) and catch the end of the game on TV. Otherwise, you were stuck sneaking updates from the transistor radio you snuck into school with you.

The game itself was closer to sandlot games too. Nobody worked the pitch count, you grabbed a bat so you could hit. When a pitcher got the ball back they threw another pitch, they didn't dilly-dally. Pitch counts were unnecessary. It was like being on the sandlot, you didn't analyze everything for a statistical advantage, you just played. Runners stole bases and were thrown out. You moved runners along with sacrifice bunts and flys. It was all very instinctive. Don't think, it hurts the ballclub. The players smoked in the dugout.

I won't recount the details of the '68 Series, but it was epic, with astonishing performances and unlikely occurrences. The fact of the Tigers came back from a 3-1 deficit only heightened the experience, winning game 7 against the most frightening pitcher ever (Bob Gibson). It was like a living storybook to an eight-year-old.

I seem to be going down a path of wistful nostalgia, longing for the days of my youth, but I'm not. I would not want to go back to those times either in baseball or in life.

Being outside playing with the other kids was fine and all, but as often as not you found yourself maneuvering through a juvenile world that approached Lord of the Flies. Did it make us tough? Probably. Is it good that we needed to be made tough? Probably not. It may have been necessary, but it's not to be desired. As a small, overly-thoughtful, introverted kid, I can't imagine anything I wouldn't have traded back then for one day's worth of access to something like the Web.

Baseball is a vastly more interesting game now also, especially of late. It is slower, which is annoying, but the players are probably better overall and the strategies are much more varied and intricate (and, yes, statistically oriented). Longtime readers know I was on the sabermetrics train at an early stop. ESPN recently did a test telecast of an Amazon-supported project called Statcast. Instead of inane babbling about who "really wants a hit" and who is "not looking comfortable on the mound" we got primed with deep stats and graphic predictions and intelligent rational analysis in general. It was wonderful. And it was very well received. If MLB provided a cable package of games like that, I would pay for it. There are problems implementing it I'm sure since the skill set of announcers has got to be something more than "just keep the cliches coming" but I think that's a solvable problem. It bodes well for the future.

I watched little of this year's World Series since it was between two teams I don't like: the Dodgers from that execrable city Los Angeles and the pink-hatted Massholes of Boston. The highlight was game 3, a 7-hour 20-minute 18-inning affair that was the longest, and possibly most excruciating, game in Series history. Evidently instead of having to rush home from school to catch end of games, we now pull all-nighters.

Once again, I have droned on in a post without have a clear objective other than to note that since the '68 Tigers were my first exposure to baseball, have officially been a baseball fan for 50 years now. (Of course, it's also been decades since I swung a bat or wore a glove.) Baseball is where I first saw the battle of the objective versus the subjective and realized I am constitutionally predisposed toward the former, an aspect of my personality that has influenced me throughout my life, for better and worse. Although I only follow on the periphery these days, it still brings an image of verdant beauty. The last game I attended was a Tigers spring training game in Joker Marchant stadium in Lakeland, where there is a large green lawn where the left field bleachers would be most places. Sitting in the grass, casually watching the game in the perfect Florida spring weather was true detachment for me; one of those moments that sets itself deeply in your long-term memory.

On the other hand the best pitcher in the A.L. -- Justin Verlander -- and the best pitcher in the N.L.-- Max Scherzer -- both used to play for Detroit. Somehow, the Tigers managed to lose both of them in the course of their careers. Not unrelated, this year the Tigers barely avoided being 100 game losers. Baseball giveth and baseball taketh away. I should see if I can find an Al Kaline throwback jersey.

[Rant, Baseball] Windy City Memories

I have spent more time in Chicago (4 hours away) than Detroit (1 hour away) in the last 15 years. I think in that whole time I have been to Detroit once and that was just to pass through to Grosse Pointe. I have never seen the Tigers at Comerica Park, although I have seen them at spring training in Lakeland. On the other hand I have twice seen the Cubbies at Wrigley, have taken a historic tour of Wrigley, and spent a number of summer afternoons in Wrigleyville watching the games in the bars just outside the stadium.

In fact, one of the most delightful summer activities I can think of is renting a bike at Millennium Park or Navy Pier and riding up the Lakeshore trail along the Lake Michigan beaches past the Lincoln Park Zoo to Addison and then dashing a few blocks inland to Wrigleyville. You can probably scalp a ticket if you want, but I'd suggest just settling in at one many restaurant bars within a two block radius and watching the game on the big screen in comfort. Honestly, I'm sad I didn't get a chance to do it this year.

I was especially envious when I saw the World Series victory celebrations. I should have been there. I read that it was the 7th largest gathering of people in history. 5 million people. If they had decided to form their own State they would have been the 23rd largest. Remarkably, and somewhat surprisingly, there was no rioting, no looting, in a city that is known for an outrageous murder rate. Chicago from The Loop north, and for maybe 6-8 blocks west of the lake is really a remarkably safe city. Angry people accuse the city of herding the bad element into their bad neighborhoods, generally abusing them and ruthlessly and unconstitutionally punishing them if they bring their evil activities into the business and tourist centers. It wouldn't surprise me if that was true. It also wouldn't surprise me if the forces that express such outrage at the practice are the prime beneficiaries and are glad to be the beneficiaries even if they can't admit it publicly or even privately. For better or worse, when you see the population of an average sized State crushed into the area of Grant Park without it turning violent, you have to think something has been achieved, for better or worse.

I can't claim the Cubs as my team, despite my love for their city and their neighborhood and their ballpark. Even if I don't go to Detroit to see them, the Tigers will always be my baseball team since I was 8 years old and the '68 took the World Series in wonderfully dramatic fashion. That started my lifelong interest in baseball which admittedly has waxed and waned over the years. My second awakening of baseball fandom came when I was around 1980 when Bill James' Baseball Abstract came to my attention and rekindled something in me which had previously made me fascinated with the stats on the backs of baseball cards. It was a vision of rationality -- of a minor corner of the universe that made sense, even if the rest of the world wallowed in ignorance. It would be another couple of decades before Billy Beane proved those principles correct (and even longer than that until Moneyball made it common knowledge). Since the Red Sox couldn't convince Beane to come work for them, they went looking for a another stat guy to run things and found Theo Epstein who used those principles to end the Red Sox curse, then moved to Chicago where he managed to lift and even longer curse. You can read about that angle here.

It was an interesting ongoing lesson for me in the resistance of humanity to the rational. Something that the data showed so clearly and definitively, yet the world was quite content to just not believe it. Something that has grown more clear to me everyday I live -- people are not rational, they are emotional, even when they think they are rational they aren't. That includes me, although I hope I am not just making myself feel good when I say I am more aware of it and therefore guard against it more than most people. Even now, evidently, I can't just be glad for the Cubs. I have to look for the sharp angle. Sad.

But not sad. Happy for the Cubs, happy for Chicago, happy for a victory for rationality that is celebrated by 5 million people. Maybe there is hope after all. I must never to let another summer pass without an afternoon in Wrigleyville.