Ah, Tempus fugit.* It's hard to believe that it's already been over a year since I wrote my first real post on this blog begging the Suns not break up their team by trading a star player, but I suppose it's that time again. This year however, rather than the departed Amare Stoudemire, trade rumors involving the Suns center around point guard Steve Nash, the last remaining link to the "Seven Seconds or Less" Suns that dazzled the NBA (in the regular season, at least) from 2004 until 2007.
*That's "time flies" in Latin. As an aspiring Classics minor in his fourth semester of Latin, it was only a matter of time before I incorporated Latin into this blog, since it is dominating every other aspect of my life.
However, this year it is even more tempting to get swept up in the trade talks. Nash will be 37 later this month, far too old to be a legitimate building block for the future, unlike Stoudemire last year. And unlike last year's team, this incarnation of the Phoenix Suns isn't very good. Sure, they could catch fire and sneak into the playoffs as a seventh or eighth seed, but they aren't going anywhere after that. They don't have a starting-caliber power forward (sorry Channing) and their offense runs through Vince Carter, an aging star who takes more ill-advised shots than my roommates on a Friday night.
So, why NOT trade Nash and Hill?* If the team is lousy now, and will presumably continue to be lousy for the twilight of their careers, why not trade them to a contender, give them a shot at a title, and restock for the future? Well, first of all, it might not be all that easy to trade them to a contender. Looking around the league, there really aren't all that many good teams that could use someone like Steve Nash and could provide value in return. Going down the list by record: the Spurs have Tony Parker, the Celtics have Rajon Rondo, the Heat don't really have any young players who would have value in a rebuilding project, the Bulls have Derrick Rose, and the Lakers don't run an offense that meshes with Nash's playing style. If teams with a shot at a championship don't have a use for Nash, they aren't going to trade for him, regardless of how productive he still is.
*Regardless of where you fall on the "free Steve Nash" debate, it would seem to make sense that if the Suns trade Nash, they ought to trade Grant Hill, his (bridge) partner in crime, as well. If the Suns trade Nash, they would be blowing up the team as currently constructed as well as acknowledging to their fans that they will not be a playoff contender for at least a couple of years. And there is absolutely no reason to keep Grant Hill around for that sort of rebuilding.
And even if the Suns do find a suitable trade partner, there remains a huge impediment to making a successful trade: the difference in the perceived value of Nash and Hill among Suns fans and among the rest of the NBA. In Phoenix, both Steve Nash and Grant Hill are incredibly beloved. Grant Hill revived his career here, changing his career narrative from "supremely talented potential superstar who couldn't stay healthy," to "savvy veteran who plays the game the right way (trademark)." He has stayed healthy, been a stabilizing force (by all accounts) in the locker room, engaged the community and played with heart and soul for four seasons in the desert. Steve Nash, of course, is easily the most popular figure in Phoenix sports right now (Larry Fitzgerald is probably a distant second) and probably makes the Mount Rushmore of Arizona Sports all-time. There are simply not many figures associated with Arizona who could have criticized SB 1070 with impunity last spring, but Nash did it and suffered almost no drop in popularity, something that speaks volumes about what this city thinks of him as a player. Suns fans, almost to a man, maintain that Nash is as good as any point guard in the league right now, and that any trade should net a windfall of assets.
Other teams in the NBA don't see it that way. Instead, they see a point guard in his late 30s who can still score and rack up assists, but who's best days are clearly behind him. Obviously no team, even one in need of a point guard, would trade the farm for a guy like that. I'm not advocating or criticizing this view, but it does inhibit a potential trade. If the Suns, in a rush to complete a trade, get too little in return for Nash and Hill, the front office will be forced to explain to angry ticket holders why they traded the heart and soul of their beloved team for a couple of role players and draft picks.
I'll freely admit that I'm biased here. Steve Nash is my favorite basketball player and, even though I certainly watched Suns games before him, I truly become a Suns fan once he was signed. I was 13 during his first season in Phoenix, on a team that I consider the best team (in any sport) I've ever been a fan of. That team defied convention, played up-tempo basketball, and won 62 games with an undersized band of misfits. Even then, in my formative basketball-watching years, I remember being amazed at this scrawny white guy from Canada who managed to always set his teammates up perfectly, make ridiculous shots over players a foot taller than him, and generally run an NBA offense better than all but a few have ever run it. Over time, my amazement hasn't waned at all, as I've been consistently in awe of his ability to play through pain. And of course, I've always been impressed by his humble, although quirky, demeanor off the court.
I'm fairly certain that I'm not the only Suns fan to feel this way. Indeed, there was an entire generation of Phoenicians who became Suns supporters through watching Steve Nash do his thing in the mid-2000s. And of course, that's exactly what makes him (and to a lesser extent, Grant Hill) untradeable, that he simply matters more in Phoenix than he would in any other market, making it impossible to receive equal value. Other fans see him as he is now, while we still have visions of "Seven Seconds or Less" dancing in our heads. I guess what I'm trying to say is this: the 2011 Suns are not going anywhere, and if Nash or Hill don't want to be associated with that, the front office should do their best to accommodate them. But they haven't asked out, so what's the harm of keeping them here, especially since the team is not going to get anything special in return? Nash and Hill are worth more, both financially and intrinsically, than whatever they would garner in a trade. So with that in mind, why not let fans of the Phoenix Suns grow old with their aging stars?
Monday, January 31, 2011
Monday, October 25, 2010
Tampa Bay and Fandom
*Yes, I realize the event that inspired this post happened quite a while ago and that the team involved was eliminated from the playoffs. I just wanted to put my views on the issue out there since it appears that I have a different view from almost everyone else in sportswriting, and because the Diamondbacks may have similar problems very soon, if trending attendance records are to be believed.
As you've almost certainly heard by now, the Tampa Bay Rays made headlines in September by drawing only 12,446* to a game where they had the potential to clinch a playoff berth. This spawned a number of angry, condescending articles by moralizing East-Coast sportswriters who consider loyalty to the hometown team to be an unwavering given. I'm certainly in favor of as many fans going to see games as possible, but it is unreasonable to hold the Tampa Bay Rays to the same standards as, say the Phillies or Yankees.
*To put this number in perspective, consider that the Arizona Diamondbacks, another newer, sunbelt team with its own attendance problems, set their low-attendance record this season during a meaningless August game near the end of a 97-loss season. That record: 15,509, over three thousand more people than the crowd to watch the young, exciting Rays clinch a playoff spot. Though, to be fair, I bet those 12,446 still made more noise than the 15,509 poor souls that watched the Dbacks.
For starters, let's consider the stadiums. Both the Phillies and Yankees, who were ranked 1. and 2. in total home attendance, play in new, state-of-the-art ballparks within the city limits. Both facilities are easily reached by public transportation and are moderately close to the downtown cores of their central city. Contrast that with the Tropicana Field, home of the Rays. Tropicana Field is in St. Petersburg, FL which, for those readers unfamiliar with the Tampa Metropolitan Area, is across the bay from the central city of Tampa. Thus, fans coming from Tampa have a commute of up to an hour just to get to the stadium. And when they do arrive, what fans see is a far cry from the attractive ballparks of their Northern counterparts. Tropicana Field is a multi-use dome built in the early 1990s, meaning that Tampa Bay residents, who live in a city that may have the best weather in the country, have to go indoors to watch baseball.
The economy is also a significant factor that is keeping fans from attending games. Sure, this problem isn't specific to Tampa, but you would be hard-pressed to find an area that has been harder hit by the recession. For a city and state based on tourism, retirement, and cheap housing, the economic crisis has led to a record number of foreclosures in the area. This indicates that people are leaving the area, and that the people who remain are trying to cut unnessessary expenses. For many families, a trip to the ballpark is one of those expenses. And for national columnists with steady jobs to criticize people for spending their limited money on things other than baseball speaks to a disconnect between sportswriters and the people they write for.
But I believe the biggest reason for the lack of support, as well as the outrage from national columnists, is a fundamental misunderstanding of the way that fandom works. Obviously, everyone has their own theories on this issue because everyone supports teams for different reasons. Personally, I disagree with almost everyone that people from certain regions are fundamentally "better" fans than people from other regions (i.e. if the residents of Boston and Tampa were all switched at birth without knowing about it, the fan support for both teams would be exactly the same). Fan support everywhere has to do with the tradition and relative success of a given team, as well as the demographics of that city. For example, cities such as St. Louis and Boston are proud baseball towns because the teams that play there are fixtures in the community. People come by fanhood through different means, but one of the most common methods is inheiritance. People in Boston and St. Louis and other well-established baseball cities become fans of the hometown team because their parents or other relatives were fans. The fact that people from New England and the Midwest tend to stay in their respective regions also helps this cycle.
However, in places like Tampa, there is no cycle. Nobody goes to Rays games because the have visions of fantastic Rays teams in the past dancing in their heads. The Tampa Bay Rays became a team in 1998, meaning that today, any fan over the age of 20 either already had a baseball team that they cared about when the Rays moved to town, or didn't care enough about baseball to bother with supporting a team at all. Is it really fair to expect these people to instantly become die-hard baseball fans? It would be somewhat understandable if the Rays had won right away, the way the Diamondbacks did, but they didn't win more than 70 games until 2008, so their attempt to capture the hearts and minds of Tampa Bay residents open to a new team more or less bombed. Thus, Tampa is left attempting to drum up support from fans who are either a) too young to have a disposable income, b) a converted fan from another team (can't really blame them for being fairweather fans) or, c) people who never cared that much about baseball to begin with.
Baseball is not dying in Tampa Bay, or in any other Sunbelt city that is suffering from poor attendance. Tampa, and state of Florida in general, is still a hotbed for baseball prospects and local college baseball teams are successful and well-supported. Fanhood does not exist in a vacuum, with fans mindlessly flocking to games as soon as the local team posts a record above .500. True fandom is spawned over time, through many heartbreaking and compelling seasons. Well-established baseball towns became that way because the local teams were supported by parents who passed on their fanaticism to their children. But in Tampa Bay, that cycle is just beginning, with thousands of kids watching the Rays on TV, prepared to pass on the love to their own children in the future.
As you've almost certainly heard by now, the Tampa Bay Rays made headlines in September by drawing only 12,446* to a game where they had the potential to clinch a playoff berth. This spawned a number of angry, condescending articles by moralizing East-Coast sportswriters who consider loyalty to the hometown team to be an unwavering given. I'm certainly in favor of as many fans going to see games as possible, but it is unreasonable to hold the Tampa Bay Rays to the same standards as, say the Phillies or Yankees.
*To put this number in perspective, consider that the Arizona Diamondbacks, another newer, sunbelt team with its own attendance problems, set their low-attendance record this season during a meaningless August game near the end of a 97-loss season. That record: 15,509, over three thousand more people than the crowd to watch the young, exciting Rays clinch a playoff spot. Though, to be fair, I bet those 12,446 still made more noise than the 15,509 poor souls that watched the Dbacks.
For starters, let's consider the stadiums. Both the Phillies and Yankees, who were ranked 1. and 2. in total home attendance, play in new, state-of-the-art ballparks within the city limits. Both facilities are easily reached by public transportation and are moderately close to the downtown cores of their central city. Contrast that with the Tropicana Field, home of the Rays. Tropicana Field is in St. Petersburg, FL which, for those readers unfamiliar with the Tampa Metropolitan Area, is across the bay from the central city of Tampa. Thus, fans coming from Tampa have a commute of up to an hour just to get to the stadium. And when they do arrive, what fans see is a far cry from the attractive ballparks of their Northern counterparts. Tropicana Field is a multi-use dome built in the early 1990s, meaning that Tampa Bay residents, who live in a city that may have the best weather in the country, have to go indoors to watch baseball.
The economy is also a significant factor that is keeping fans from attending games. Sure, this problem isn't specific to Tampa, but you would be hard-pressed to find an area that has been harder hit by the recession. For a city and state based on tourism, retirement, and cheap housing, the economic crisis has led to a record number of foreclosures in the area. This indicates that people are leaving the area, and that the people who remain are trying to cut unnessessary expenses. For many families, a trip to the ballpark is one of those expenses. And for national columnists with steady jobs to criticize people for spending their limited money on things other than baseball speaks to a disconnect between sportswriters and the people they write for.
But I believe the biggest reason for the lack of support, as well as the outrage from national columnists, is a fundamental misunderstanding of the way that fandom works. Obviously, everyone has their own theories on this issue because everyone supports teams for different reasons. Personally, I disagree with almost everyone that people from certain regions are fundamentally "better" fans than people from other regions (i.e. if the residents of Boston and Tampa were all switched at birth without knowing about it, the fan support for both teams would be exactly the same). Fan support everywhere has to do with the tradition and relative success of a given team, as well as the demographics of that city. For example, cities such as St. Louis and Boston are proud baseball towns because the teams that play there are fixtures in the community. People come by fanhood through different means, but one of the most common methods is inheiritance. People in Boston and St. Louis and other well-established baseball cities become fans of the hometown team because their parents or other relatives were fans. The fact that people from New England and the Midwest tend to stay in their respective regions also helps this cycle.
However, in places like Tampa, there is no cycle. Nobody goes to Rays games because the have visions of fantastic Rays teams in the past dancing in their heads. The Tampa Bay Rays became a team in 1998, meaning that today, any fan over the age of 20 either already had a baseball team that they cared about when the Rays moved to town, or didn't care enough about baseball to bother with supporting a team at all. Is it really fair to expect these people to instantly become die-hard baseball fans? It would be somewhat understandable if the Rays had won right away, the way the Diamondbacks did, but they didn't win more than 70 games until 2008, so their attempt to capture the hearts and minds of Tampa Bay residents open to a new team more or less bombed. Thus, Tampa is left attempting to drum up support from fans who are either a) too young to have a disposable income, b) a converted fan from another team (can't really blame them for being fairweather fans) or, c) people who never cared that much about baseball to begin with.
Baseball is not dying in Tampa Bay, or in any other Sunbelt city that is suffering from poor attendance. Tampa, and state of Florida in general, is still a hotbed for baseball prospects and local college baseball teams are successful and well-supported. Fanhood does not exist in a vacuum, with fans mindlessly flocking to games as soon as the local team posts a record above .500. True fandom is spawned over time, through many heartbreaking and compelling seasons. Well-established baseball towns became that way because the local teams were supported by parents who passed on their fanaticism to their children. But in Tampa Bay, that cycle is just beginning, with thousands of kids watching the Rays on TV, prepared to pass on the love to their own children in the future.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Stephen Drew
So, to compensate for the utter dearth of activity on this blog over the past 6 months and the entire baseball season, I will be writing useless, completely subjective narratives about individual Diamondback players and their future with the team. Sound like fun? You bet!
First up is Stephen Drew, who has a strong case for being the most important player of the Josh Byrnes administration. During a period of extreme overhaul (from 2006-2010), Drew has been the one constant, playing almost every game at his familiar position of shortstop while his teammates got traded, benched, called down or cut loose entirely. If I told you to close your eyes and imagine one Arizona Diamondbacks' player in Sedona Red, Stephen Drew would be as good a choice as any. And this all makes him fascinating, especially since the Josh Byrnes administration, having abruptly ended, must now qualify as a failure. Stephen Drew is one of the very few players who was with the organization for the entirety of Josh Byrnes' tenure as GM, making him the on-field face of a failed regime, and it is somewhat appropriate that the team is exploring the possibility of trading him in the offseason. It would be fitting if it happened: for the GM, manager and most-used player to leave the team within six months of each other.
None of this is Stephen Drew's fault, mind you. Looking at the numbers, Drew has been an approximately league-average hitter for his career (OPS+ of 96). People differ on his defense, but stat-heads and traditionalists agree that it has improved to the point that he is, at the very least, not a liability in the field. With the exception of a tough season in 2007, Drew has produced approximately 2 WAR, or the equivalent of an average MLB starter every season in the majors. He is also durable and, by all accounts, a great guy in the clubhouse. Players who fit that description do not grow on trees. The mess that has been the Arizona Diamondbacks the past couple of seasons is not Drew's fault, or, at least, no more than anyone else's.
Yet, to accept Stephen Drew as a league-average player is to ignore the narrative surrounding him. Drew went to notable baseball powerhouse Florida State, where he immediately turned heads, as he was named Baseball America's Freshman of the Year as well as the ACC's Rookie of the Year, according to wikipedia. He was taken by the Diamondbacks with the 15th pick of the 2004 draft, and he only lasted that long due to signability concerns. For an organization that was slowly realizing that the future they had mortgaged in 2001 was coming to collect, Stephen Drew was a link to a brighter future, the gem of a burgeoning farm system. When he reached the major league team in 2006 and hit .316/.357/.517 in 226 plate appearances, it seemed that the Diamondbacks had a young star that they could build a team around. Whenever analysts talked about the Diamondbacks core of young players during that period they could never fail to mention that Stephen Drew was likely to be a star and the face of a franchise that desperately needed to redefine itself.
In the four years since that torrid start however, Drew has hit .266/.328/.439. Again, these are not bad numbers, especially for a shortstop. But they are not star-caliber numbers, not by a long shot. And the language used to describe Stephen Drew has changed as well over the years. Where once he was an called a "can't-miss prospect" and an "exciting young shortstop," he is now widely regarded as a complementary player for an offense built around Justin Upton and Mark Reynolds. If he hits like he did in 2008, that's wonderful, but no one expects that to happen again.
And, from a PR standpoint, Drew's career looks even worse. Stephen is a quiet kid, and I have to assume he is not a natural leader. He also has a reputation for appearing stoic and unemotional while he plays. Obviously, there is nothing wrong with walking quietly back to the dugout rather than smashing your bat after making an out, but on a young team starved for leadership that also had rather tepid managers, Drew's apparent indifference was a public relations nightmare. Far from being a clubhouse leader, Drew became the scapegoat for a team that didn't have enough "fire" to please disgruntled fans. Do not mistake this for my saying that Stephen Drew doesn't care about his team or about baseball. I'm sure that, in his own way, Drew cares as much as anyone else on the diamond. The problem that he faces is that of perception. I have no doubt that Stephen Drew could have become wildly popular on an established, veteran baseball team with strong leadership, but the Arizona Diamondbacks of the late 2000s were clearly not that team.
In many ways, Stephen Drew's tenure with the Diamondbacks is a reflection of Josh Byrnes'. What started with great amounts of promise for each has eventually led to dissatisfaction and disappointment. With the Diamondbacks rebuilding for 2012 or 2013, the consensus is that Drew, who becomes arbitration eligible after the 2011 season, to be traded before that time. If and when that happens, it will act as a final referendum on Byrnes' regime, whose hope that Drew would blossom into a star was one of the many things that led to his firing. As for Drew himself, he is still only 27 and may yet become a great player for whatever team picks him up. But his narrative with the Diamondbacks has already been written: a competent major league player who was expected to be a team leader on and off the field but who, at the end of the day, turned out to be just a shortstop.
First up is Stephen Drew, who has a strong case for being the most important player of the Josh Byrnes administration. During a period of extreme overhaul (from 2006-2010), Drew has been the one constant, playing almost every game at his familiar position of shortstop while his teammates got traded, benched, called down or cut loose entirely. If I told you to close your eyes and imagine one Arizona Diamondbacks' player in Sedona Red, Stephen Drew would be as good a choice as any. And this all makes him fascinating, especially since the Josh Byrnes administration, having abruptly ended, must now qualify as a failure. Stephen Drew is one of the very few players who was with the organization for the entirety of Josh Byrnes' tenure as GM, making him the on-field face of a failed regime, and it is somewhat appropriate that the team is exploring the possibility of trading him in the offseason. It would be fitting if it happened: for the GM, manager and most-used player to leave the team within six months of each other.
None of this is Stephen Drew's fault, mind you. Looking at the numbers, Drew has been an approximately league-average hitter for his career (OPS+ of 96). People differ on his defense, but stat-heads and traditionalists agree that it has improved to the point that he is, at the very least, not a liability in the field. With the exception of a tough season in 2007, Drew has produced approximately 2 WAR, or the equivalent of an average MLB starter every season in the majors. He is also durable and, by all accounts, a great guy in the clubhouse. Players who fit that description do not grow on trees. The mess that has been the Arizona Diamondbacks the past couple of seasons is not Drew's fault, or, at least, no more than anyone else's.
Yet, to accept Stephen Drew as a league-average player is to ignore the narrative surrounding him. Drew went to notable baseball powerhouse Florida State, where he immediately turned heads, as he was named Baseball America's Freshman of the Year as well as the ACC's Rookie of the Year, according to wikipedia. He was taken by the Diamondbacks with the 15th pick of the 2004 draft, and he only lasted that long due to signability concerns. For an organization that was slowly realizing that the future they had mortgaged in 2001 was coming to collect, Stephen Drew was a link to a brighter future, the gem of a burgeoning farm system. When he reached the major league team in 2006 and hit .316/.357/.517 in 226 plate appearances, it seemed that the Diamondbacks had a young star that they could build a team around. Whenever analysts talked about the Diamondbacks core of young players during that period they could never fail to mention that Stephen Drew was likely to be a star and the face of a franchise that desperately needed to redefine itself.
In the four years since that torrid start however, Drew has hit .266/.328/.439. Again, these are not bad numbers, especially for a shortstop. But they are not star-caliber numbers, not by a long shot. And the language used to describe Stephen Drew has changed as well over the years. Where once he was an called a "can't-miss prospect" and an "exciting young shortstop," he is now widely regarded as a complementary player for an offense built around Justin Upton and Mark Reynolds. If he hits like he did in 2008, that's wonderful, but no one expects that to happen again.
And, from a PR standpoint, Drew's career looks even worse. Stephen is a quiet kid, and I have to assume he is not a natural leader. He also has a reputation for appearing stoic and unemotional while he plays. Obviously, there is nothing wrong with walking quietly back to the dugout rather than smashing your bat after making an out, but on a young team starved for leadership that also had rather tepid managers, Drew's apparent indifference was a public relations nightmare. Far from being a clubhouse leader, Drew became the scapegoat for a team that didn't have enough "fire" to please disgruntled fans. Do not mistake this for my saying that Stephen Drew doesn't care about his team or about baseball. I'm sure that, in his own way, Drew cares as much as anyone else on the diamond. The problem that he faces is that of perception. I have no doubt that Stephen Drew could have become wildly popular on an established, veteran baseball team with strong leadership, but the Arizona Diamondbacks of the late 2000s were clearly not that team.
In many ways, Stephen Drew's tenure with the Diamondbacks is a reflection of Josh Byrnes'. What started with great amounts of promise for each has eventually led to dissatisfaction and disappointment. With the Diamondbacks rebuilding for 2012 or 2013, the consensus is that Drew, who becomes arbitration eligible after the 2011 season, to be traded before that time. If and when that happens, it will act as a final referendum on Byrnes' regime, whose hope that Drew would blossom into a star was one of the many things that led to his firing. As for Drew himself, he is still only 27 and may yet become a great player for whatever team picks him up. But his narrative with the Diamondbacks has already been written: a competent major league player who was expected to be a team leader on and off the field but who, at the end of the day, turned out to be just a shortstop.
Friday, March 5, 2010
A Treatise on Sabermetrics
Apologies for the lack of activity on this blog of late. I've had a lot on my plate, both school-related and otherwise, which has take precedence. I've got a big Matt Leinart post in the works, but for now I just wanted to clarify my position on one of the most controversial topics in the blogosphere: Sabermetrics. Some of you may have noticed the presence of several bizarre acronyms (WAR and ERA+) in my Josh Byrnes piece, so you probably already think you know how I feel about new statistics. But for the sake of argument, walk through the thought process with me.
Many prominent, old-line newspaper reporters make no secret of their disdain for "statistics," and the blogs that perpetuate them. However, almost to a man, they are lying about hating stats. I have never watched a Joe Morgan broadcast or read a Murray Chass article that didn't use certain statistics (usually Wins or Batting Average) to back up a point about a player. It's rule 1 of journalism: provide evidence for your claims. So what they are actually saying is that they dislike statistics that are new, or overly complicated. And there's some legitimacy to their claim that, if stats like RBI and Win/Loss records have worked for a century and a half, why would we feel the need to change now?
Except that such a claim is not dissimilar from saying that, because typewriters worked for an entire century, we should not have switched to computers. The invention of the computer provided a more effective way of printing words on a page, so it began to replace the typewriter. If we have a more effective way of analyzing the game of baseball, why not let it replace the system already in place? But suppose you believe, for example, that batting average still tells you more about a hitter than, say, on-base plus slugging percentage (OPS). In response to that belief, I would argue that simply watching the game should tell you otherwise, as there are two very clear problems with batting average.
The first problem is that walks are not factored into batting average. Therefore, a batter could potentially have four plate appearances in a game, walk all four times, and not have his batting average change at all despite his reaching base four times. Contrast this with a batter who goes 3 for 4, with all of his hits being singles. The second batter has reached base fewer times, and created more outs than the first batter, yet, assuming that his batting average is below .750, batter #2 will have raised his batting average while batter #1 sees his stay the same. Secondly, batting average does not weight different types of hits, meaning it treats a single with the same amount of importance as a home run. The problems with this should be clear: a player who hits 4 home runs in a game has clearly helped his team more than a player who hits four singles in a game. On-base plus slugging percentage was a concerted effort to avoid these problems, and while it has its own problems, it has proven to have a better correlation with team wins than batting average.
Pitcher wins and losses are an even more foolish and arbitrary way of evaluating performance. For those who don't know, a starting pitcher is awarded a win if the team is winning a game when he exits, and proceeds to hold onto the lead until the end. The obvious problem with this system is that pitchers have almost no control over their own team's offense, which is half the battle for gaining/maintaining a lead. This is obviously favorable to pitchers that happen to pitch for teams with great offenses. For example, if Chien-Ming Wang of the Yankees goes five innings and gives up nineteen runs, but the Yankees' offense scores twenty runs in that same span and holds the lead, Chien-Ming Wang would be awarded a "win." However, if Brandon Webb of the Diamondbacks goes nine innings and allows one unearned run, he would be awarded a "loss" if his offense does not score a single run. Based off of any other stat, Webb was clearly the more productive pitcher in this hypothetical scenario. But going just by pitcher W/L, Wang would appear to have had the better day, despite having given up eighteen more runs.
This website is not going to become fangraphs by any measure. My major is English, not mathematics, and I am not nearly intelligent enough to create mathematically-sound statistics a la Bill James. Statistics do not measure everything on the baseball diamond, and sabermetrics is still a developing field. However, as a writer who will be posting his opinions for the Internet to read, I owe it to you, the reader, to support my subjective assessments with proof in the form of statistics. The last thing that I want as a sportswriter is for my readers to consider me an idiot because of my methodology. I'd much prefer if you consider me an idiot for my points instead.
Many prominent, old-line newspaper reporters make no secret of their disdain for "statistics," and the blogs that perpetuate them. However, almost to a man, they are lying about hating stats. I have never watched a Joe Morgan broadcast or read a Murray Chass article that didn't use certain statistics (usually Wins or Batting Average) to back up a point about a player. It's rule 1 of journalism: provide evidence for your claims. So what they are actually saying is that they dislike statistics that are new, or overly complicated. And there's some legitimacy to their claim that, if stats like RBI and Win/Loss records have worked for a century and a half, why would we feel the need to change now?
Except that such a claim is not dissimilar from saying that, because typewriters worked for an entire century, we should not have switched to computers. The invention of the computer provided a more effective way of printing words on a page, so it began to replace the typewriter. If we have a more effective way of analyzing the game of baseball, why not let it replace the system already in place? But suppose you believe, for example, that batting average still tells you more about a hitter than, say, on-base plus slugging percentage (OPS). In response to that belief, I would argue that simply watching the game should tell you otherwise, as there are two very clear problems with batting average.
The first problem is that walks are not factored into batting average. Therefore, a batter could potentially have four plate appearances in a game, walk all four times, and not have his batting average change at all despite his reaching base four times. Contrast this with a batter who goes 3 for 4, with all of his hits being singles. The second batter has reached base fewer times, and created more outs than the first batter, yet, assuming that his batting average is below .750, batter #2 will have raised his batting average while batter #1 sees his stay the same. Secondly, batting average does not weight different types of hits, meaning it treats a single with the same amount of importance as a home run. The problems with this should be clear: a player who hits 4 home runs in a game has clearly helped his team more than a player who hits four singles in a game. On-base plus slugging percentage was a concerted effort to avoid these problems, and while it has its own problems, it has proven to have a better correlation with team wins than batting average.
Pitcher wins and losses are an even more foolish and arbitrary way of evaluating performance. For those who don't know, a starting pitcher is awarded a win if the team is winning a game when he exits, and proceeds to hold onto the lead until the end. The obvious problem with this system is that pitchers have almost no control over their own team's offense, which is half the battle for gaining/maintaining a lead. This is obviously favorable to pitchers that happen to pitch for teams with great offenses. For example, if Chien-Ming Wang of the Yankees goes five innings and gives up nineteen runs, but the Yankees' offense scores twenty runs in that same span and holds the lead, Chien-Ming Wang would be awarded a "win." However, if Brandon Webb of the Diamondbacks goes nine innings and allows one unearned run, he would be awarded a "loss" if his offense does not score a single run. Based off of any other stat, Webb was clearly the more productive pitcher in this hypothetical scenario. But going just by pitcher W/L, Wang would appear to have had the better day, despite having given up eighteen more runs.
This website is not going to become fangraphs by any measure. My major is English, not mathematics, and I am not nearly intelligent enough to create mathematically-sound statistics a la Bill James. Statistics do not measure everything on the baseball diamond, and sabermetrics is still a developing field. However, as a writer who will be posting his opinions for the Internet to read, I owe it to you, the reader, to support my subjective assessments with proof in the form of statistics. The last thing that I want as a sportswriter is for my readers to consider me an idiot because of my methodology. I'd much prefer if you consider me an idiot for my points instead.
Friday, February 12, 2010
On Josh Byrnes
I'm actually ridiculously optimistic about the upcoming Diamondbacks season. Now, granted, I've been ridiculously optimistic the last two years, and not had a whole lot to show for it, but this season feels different somehow. Like any fan worth his salt, I've managed to convince myself of a whole list of reasons why this season will be so much better than the 92-loss abortion that preceded it. I will post that list at some point before the season, but that's a topic for another day. What I really want to focus on is what this season will mean for Josh Byrnes, the general manager of the Diamondbacks.
The other day, I was chatting with a friend of mine about the Diamondbacks. When the subject of the Diamondbacks' management came up, my friend, who is also from Phoenix and who is quite knowledgeable about baseball, exclaimed, "I fuckin' hate Josh Byrnes!" I was a bit taken aback by this reaction. I mean, I like Josh Byrnes, and I legitimately think he is incredibly intelligent and competent when it comes to running a baseball team. Furthermore, of all the moves he made since taking over the Diamondbacks in 2005, there is only one that I really found fault with at the time it was made.*
*That one move was the Max Scherzer trade made this offseason. Upon reading about this trade, I threw a readily-available book at the wall, and sulked for the rest of the day. A few days later, I began to come around on the trade, and I determined that the trade might not be catastrophic for the team. A few days after that, I decided that Josh Byrnes was a genius for getting two starting pitchers for the price of one. For more information, re-read the opening paragraph about lies that deluded fans tell themselves.
The team that Josh Byrnes inherited in 2005 was a nondescript mishmash of aging veterans and free agents from other teams, signed to mask the team's lack of depth at critical positions. This team had only three starting position players under the age of 28, and any prospects in the minors were at least a year away. The team was also poor, as their splurge of free agent signings inflated their payroll, and would cost them dearly for seasons to come. In short, they were bad, they were uninteresting to watch, and they had little potential to get better in the near future.
Despite these problems, however, Josh Byrnes had a plan, which he set about unfolding in 2006. He began to jettison the entrenched veterans in favor of younger, cheaper rookies like Stephen Drew and Carlos Quentin--rookies that Byrnes believed would provide the backbone of the Diamondbacks' lineup for years to come. He simultaneously signed and traded for cheap veterans (Eric Byrnes and Orlando Hudson), who would supplement the young core. All of his moves seemed, at least to my young eyes, highly methodical and sustainable. Based on everything I knew about sports, this seemed to be the "proper" way to rebuild a team. Byrnes' method was rewarded in 2007, when his young team won 90 games and made it to the NLCS.* The plan seemed to be working: the Diamondbacks were clearly a team on the rise.
*These 2007 Diamondbacks have a very legitimate argument for being the worst 90-win team in baseball history. Not only did they have a Pythagorean win-loss record of 79-83, by virtue of being outscored in the regular season, but their numbers were buoyed by a number of fluke individual performances. The highest WAR (wins above replacement) on the team belonged to Eric Byrnes, who turned in a four-win season from out of nowhere. Previously unknown Micah Owings provided a 110 ERA+. And so on...
Then, regression caught up. Many of Byrnes' patented young stars, who seemed so promising in the minors, stagnated in the majors and cast doubt on their ability. The once-strong farm system was gutted through trades for players (Dan Haren and Adam Dunn) who would put the team over the top. They finished out of the playoffs in 2008, and suffered through a nightmarish season of injuries and bad luck in 2009.
Along the way, Josh Byrnes' style changed along with his team's fortunes. Where he had once been meticulous about acquiring young talent and cheap veterans, his moves this offseason show a distinct desire to "win now." He traded Max Scherzer, under team control for 5 years, for Edwin Jackson, under team control for 2 years. His signings of Kelly Johnson and Adam LaRoche both fill holes, but they reduce playing time for talented young rookies Tony Abreu and Brandon Allen.
Byrnes clearly knows that he is on the hot seat. Even if he doesn't get fired after the season, another season like last year will likely result in a massive overhaul of the team that he constructed. The team has fewer holes than it did at this point last season, and should be better simply through regression to the mean. However, it is a bit disconcerting to see a general manager, who seemed to be doing everything right, rely on a 92-loss team to transform into a playoff contender in order to save his job.
The other day, I was chatting with a friend of mine about the Diamondbacks. When the subject of the Diamondbacks' management came up, my friend, who is also from Phoenix and who is quite knowledgeable about baseball, exclaimed, "I fuckin' hate Josh Byrnes!" I was a bit taken aback by this reaction. I mean, I like Josh Byrnes, and I legitimately think he is incredibly intelligent and competent when it comes to running a baseball team. Furthermore, of all the moves he made since taking over the Diamondbacks in 2005, there is only one that I really found fault with at the time it was made.*
*That one move was the Max Scherzer trade made this offseason. Upon reading about this trade, I threw a readily-available book at the wall, and sulked for the rest of the day. A few days later, I began to come around on the trade, and I determined that the trade might not be catastrophic for the team. A few days after that, I decided that Josh Byrnes was a genius for getting two starting pitchers for the price of one. For more information, re-read the opening paragraph about lies that deluded fans tell themselves.
The team that Josh Byrnes inherited in 2005 was a nondescript mishmash of aging veterans and free agents from other teams, signed to mask the team's lack of depth at critical positions. This team had only three starting position players under the age of 28, and any prospects in the minors were at least a year away. The team was also poor, as their splurge of free agent signings inflated their payroll, and would cost them dearly for seasons to come. In short, they were bad, they were uninteresting to watch, and they had little potential to get better in the near future.
Despite these problems, however, Josh Byrnes had a plan, which he set about unfolding in 2006. He began to jettison the entrenched veterans in favor of younger, cheaper rookies like Stephen Drew and Carlos Quentin--rookies that Byrnes believed would provide the backbone of the Diamondbacks' lineup for years to come. He simultaneously signed and traded for cheap veterans (Eric Byrnes and Orlando Hudson), who would supplement the young core. All of his moves seemed, at least to my young eyes, highly methodical and sustainable. Based on everything I knew about sports, this seemed to be the "proper" way to rebuild a team. Byrnes' method was rewarded in 2007, when his young team won 90 games and made it to the NLCS.* The plan seemed to be working: the Diamondbacks were clearly a team on the rise.
*These 2007 Diamondbacks have a very legitimate argument for being the worst 90-win team in baseball history. Not only did they have a Pythagorean win-loss record of 79-83, by virtue of being outscored in the regular season, but their numbers were buoyed by a number of fluke individual performances. The highest WAR (wins above replacement) on the team belonged to Eric Byrnes, who turned in a four-win season from out of nowhere. Previously unknown Micah Owings provided a 110 ERA+. And so on...
Then, regression caught up. Many of Byrnes' patented young stars, who seemed so promising in the minors, stagnated in the majors and cast doubt on their ability. The once-strong farm system was gutted through trades for players (Dan Haren and Adam Dunn) who would put the team over the top. They finished out of the playoffs in 2008, and suffered through a nightmarish season of injuries and bad luck in 2009.
Along the way, Josh Byrnes' style changed along with his team's fortunes. Where he had once been meticulous about acquiring young talent and cheap veterans, his moves this offseason show a distinct desire to "win now." He traded Max Scherzer, under team control for 5 years, for Edwin Jackson, under team control for 2 years. His signings of Kelly Johnson and Adam LaRoche both fill holes, but they reduce playing time for talented young rookies Tony Abreu and Brandon Allen.
Byrnes clearly knows that he is on the hot seat. Even if he doesn't get fired after the season, another season like last year will likely result in a massive overhaul of the team that he constructed. The team has fewer holes than it did at this point last season, and should be better simply through regression to the mean. However, it is a bit disconcerting to see a general manager, who seemed to be doing everything right, rely on a 92-loss team to transform into a playoff contender in order to save his job.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Amare: To Trade or not to Trade?
Much has been made recently about the possibility of trading Phoenix Suns star Amare Stoudemire. Naturally, the local media has been all over the possibility of a blockbuster trade (for articles by actual credible sources click here and here). Among us casual fans, meanwhile, conversation has run the gamut from "he (Stoudemire) is a bum who doesn't try, get him outta here!" to "He's a cornerstone, he's the face of the franchise, he can cure cancer with his mind!" And since everyone else seems to have an opinion, I may as well give my $0.02.
Does anyone think that trading Amare is actually going to help the Suns, in the short-term or the long-term?
In the interest of full disclosure, I was very intrigued by the trade talk regarding Stoudemire last year. Like many fans last year, I fell victim to the excessive expectations associated with the team and, upon their failure to meet said expectations, wanted Kerr to blow it all up. Plus, the names were sexier last year (Stephen Curry in Purple and Orange? I could dig it.) because the team still had a year of control over Stoudemire. This year, all of the trade talk seems to smack of desperation, of wanting to get something for Amare, rather than letting him walk in the offseason for nothing. This is understandable, since Sarver seems to feel (as I do) that Stoudemire does not deserve the max contract that he covets, and is therefore reluctant to enter negotiations with him.
Going back to the question at the top, let's look at the first part, the short-term benefits of potentially trading Amare. If the only question is, "does trading Amare help the team reach the playoffs this season," then the short answer has to be, "no, no it does not." While the general fan consensus is that Amare does not consistently play up to his immense potential, he still has averaged at least twenty points every season since his rookie year (02-03).* Big men with scoring numbers like these do not grow on trees. Among active power forwards, only Chris Bosh, Dirk Novitzki and Tim Duncan have comparable scoring numbers. Contrast this level of production with the players the Suns could conceivably get in return. Of the players that the Suns could receive, the best individual player is probably the Sixers' Andre Iguodala, who is currently leading Philadelphia with 17.3 ppg. However, swingmen who can score are far more common than pure power forwards who can score. Right now, the Suns look like a no. 4 or 5 playoff seed in the West, who, with a few breaks, could make it into the second or third round of the playoffs. However, with the loss of Amare, the team is resigning itself to have, at best, a low seed and a "one and done" playoff appearance. Even if a complementary player were included in the deal, there would be a significant drop-off in scoring this season--a drop-off that could conceivably drop the Suns out of the playoff race entirely.
*This statistic discounts Amare's 05/06 season, where he averaged 8.7 ppg while playing all of three games.
However, that's obviously not really the point of the potential trade. No one is denying that the Suns are an aging group, and with Nash's contract expiring after next season, many fans believe that the time has come to tear it all up. Trading Amare for a couple of decent role players and a first-round pick in the 2010 draft (which the team does not currently possess) would certainly be an excellent way to begin this process. However, there is one problem with this line of reasoning: the Suns shouldn't be broken up because they are...well...actually still kinda good. I mentioned above that the team as currently constructed could make it to the second round of the playoffs, and it is not outside the realm of possibility that they could beat teams like Nuggets or Mavericks in a 7-game series. Trading Amare means sacrificing the rest of this season (and the revenue that would come from a playoff series) and probably next as well in exchange for a draft pick and some spare parts. Call me crazy, but that doesn't seem to be worth the effort to me.
Holding onto Amare is a risk, but he is a talented enough player to make such a risk worthwhile. He may opt out, and this post may be made to look exceptionally stupid, but you never know for sure. Indeed, some of his recent comments indicate that he is at least considering staying in Phoenix for next year. We may have this same conversation again next year, but for now I simply want to savor the opportunity to watch an entertaining playoff contender led by one of the best power forwards in the NBA.
(All stats from basketball-reference.com)
Does anyone think that trading Amare is actually going to help the Suns, in the short-term or the long-term?
In the interest of full disclosure, I was very intrigued by the trade talk regarding Stoudemire last year. Like many fans last year, I fell victim to the excessive expectations associated with the team and, upon their failure to meet said expectations, wanted Kerr to blow it all up. Plus, the names were sexier last year (Stephen Curry in Purple and Orange? I could dig it.) because the team still had a year of control over Stoudemire. This year, all of the trade talk seems to smack of desperation, of wanting to get something for Amare, rather than letting him walk in the offseason for nothing. This is understandable, since Sarver seems to feel (as I do) that Stoudemire does not deserve the max contract that he covets, and is therefore reluctant to enter negotiations with him.
Going back to the question at the top, let's look at the first part, the short-term benefits of potentially trading Amare. If the only question is, "does trading Amare help the team reach the playoffs this season," then the short answer has to be, "no, no it does not." While the general fan consensus is that Amare does not consistently play up to his immense potential, he still has averaged at least twenty points every season since his rookie year (02-03).* Big men with scoring numbers like these do not grow on trees. Among active power forwards, only Chris Bosh, Dirk Novitzki and Tim Duncan have comparable scoring numbers. Contrast this level of production with the players the Suns could conceivably get in return. Of the players that the Suns could receive, the best individual player is probably the Sixers' Andre Iguodala, who is currently leading Philadelphia with 17.3 ppg. However, swingmen who can score are far more common than pure power forwards who can score. Right now, the Suns look like a no. 4 or 5 playoff seed in the West, who, with a few breaks, could make it into the second or third round of the playoffs. However, with the loss of Amare, the team is resigning itself to have, at best, a low seed and a "one and done" playoff appearance. Even if a complementary player were included in the deal, there would be a significant drop-off in scoring this season--a drop-off that could conceivably drop the Suns out of the playoff race entirely.
*This statistic discounts Amare's 05/06 season, where he averaged 8.7 ppg while playing all of three games.
However, that's obviously not really the point of the potential trade. No one is denying that the Suns are an aging group, and with Nash's contract expiring after next season, many fans believe that the time has come to tear it all up. Trading Amare for a couple of decent role players and a first-round pick in the 2010 draft (which the team does not currently possess) would certainly be an excellent way to begin this process. However, there is one problem with this line of reasoning: the Suns shouldn't be broken up because they are...well...actually still kinda good. I mentioned above that the team as currently constructed could make it to the second round of the playoffs, and it is not outside the realm of possibility that they could beat teams like Nuggets or Mavericks in a 7-game series. Trading Amare means sacrificing the rest of this season (and the revenue that would come from a playoff series) and probably next as well in exchange for a draft pick and some spare parts. Call me crazy, but that doesn't seem to be worth the effort to me.
Holding onto Amare is a risk, but he is a talented enough player to make such a risk worthwhile. He may opt out, and this post may be made to look exceptionally stupid, but you never know for sure. Indeed, some of his recent comments indicate that he is at least considering staying in Phoenix for next year. We may have this same conversation again next year, but for now I simply want to savor the opportunity to watch an entertaining playoff contender led by one of the best power forwards in the NBA.
(All stats from basketball-reference.com)
Saturday, January 30, 2010
A Not-So-Brief Welcome
Hello and welcome to Drunk on Sports. Since you've already taken time out of your undoubtedly busy day to contribute to my page view count, I suppose I should return the favor and tell all of you a little about myself and what I envision for this blog.
My name is Steve and I am a die-hard sports fan (Hi Steve). I am currently a freshman in college in the wonderful new city of Tacoma, Washington. For more information, I comprised a little list about myself as a sports fan. I started this blog because, well, mainly I realized that I don't do much of anything in my spare time and starting a blog seemed like a good way to force myself to write outside of class. But in addition, I tend to have very strong opinions on sports, especially concerning the teams that I care deeply about. Though I have absolutely no ability to play sports myself, not a day goes by when I don't consume some bit of new sports information from ESPN or the like. This blog should provide an outlet for me to express some of my opinions other than yelling them at my (mostly disinterested) friends and family.
Even though I currently reside in Washington, I spent most of my life elsewhere. Like Frank Lloyd Wright and The Meat Puppets, I grew up in the great state of Arizona, and lived there for most of my sports watching life. This means that I (somewhat unfortunately) grew up a fan of the Cardinals, Diamondbacks and Suns.* As such, I've experienced a hodgepodge of joy (Diamondbacks c. 2001), heartbreak (Suns), hopeless futility (Cardinals pre-2008), and everything in between (Diamondbacks 2002-2009).
*I'd be a fan of the Coyotes as well, if I had any knowledge of hockey whatsoever.
While I am reluctant to say that this blog will only focus on sports teams from Phoenix, you can certainly expect a lot of coverage of them, since that's where my interests predominately lie. I will also discuss nationally significant sporting events and whatever else you (the reader) wish to hear about. Let me know in the comments. Anyway, that's about it for now. Hopefully I'll have some actual content up soon. :)
My name is Steve and I am a die-hard sports fan (Hi Steve). I am currently a freshman in college in the wonderful new city of Tacoma, Washington. For more information, I comprised a little list about myself as a sports fan. I started this blog because, well, mainly I realized that I don't do much of anything in my spare time and starting a blog seemed like a good way to force myself to write outside of class. But in addition, I tend to have very strong opinions on sports, especially concerning the teams that I care deeply about. Though I have absolutely no ability to play sports myself, not a day goes by when I don't consume some bit of new sports information from ESPN or the like. This blog should provide an outlet for me to express some of my opinions other than yelling them at my (mostly disinterested) friends and family.
Even though I currently reside in Washington, I spent most of my life elsewhere. Like Frank Lloyd Wright and The Meat Puppets, I grew up in the great state of Arizona, and lived there for most of my sports watching life. This means that I (somewhat unfortunately) grew up a fan of the Cardinals, Diamondbacks and Suns.* As such, I've experienced a hodgepodge of joy (Diamondbacks c. 2001), heartbreak (Suns), hopeless futility (Cardinals pre-2008), and everything in between (Diamondbacks 2002-2009).
*I'd be a fan of the Coyotes as well, if I had any knowledge of hockey whatsoever.
While I am reluctant to say that this blog will only focus on sports teams from Phoenix, you can certainly expect a lot of coverage of them, since that's where my interests predominately lie. I will also discuss nationally significant sporting events and whatever else you (the reader) wish to hear about. Let me know in the comments. Anyway, that's about it for now. Hopefully I'll have some actual content up soon. :)
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