The New Trend That Won't Be

Far be it for me to pass judgment on the latest fashion. I was recently invited to an event in which we were encouraged to wear 90s styles, so I wore my usual attire. I couldn't actually tell you what was fashionable in the 90s, except that I wasn't wearing it then.

I stopped paying attention to pop music way before Justin Bieber was born (though possibly because of that), and see ads for TV shows I've never heard of on networks I've never heard of starring actors I've never heard of. I keep up with the Cashins, not the Kardashians.

And I'm still not clear what birds are angry or why.

So maybe I'm not the great trend spotter, but here's one trend I can publicly dismiss.

The False Narrative
During the World Series, one of the false narratives took shape around the construction of the World Champion Kansas City Royals, a low-payroll juggernaut with the best AL record making a second straight Series appearance.

Unlike the Moneyball A's, built around on base percentage and power, the Royals are a high batting average team without power. They led the league in fewest strikeouts and fewest walks, hit the second fewest home runs and paid no nevermind to "working the count." They put a premium on speed, athleticism and defense. On the mound, they trotted out a series of third and fourth starters and let the bullpen dominate.

And this, it's been suggested, is the next wave of roster-building.

Sigh.

Let's jettison the opening shibboleths before we wade into the facts.

Moneyball is Obsolete
First, there is nothing Sabermetric about OBP and power. What was special about the 2000 A's is that they realized that OBP and power were under-priced in the baseball labor market and therefore they could afford to sign those sorts of players. Walks and homers were cheap; singles and speed were expensive. That, of course, is no longer true.

In addition, the Royals are in a unique situation. Their home park is the size of a National Park. The grassy outfield has a zip code. Speed and defense are especially advantageous in that park; slugging is exceedingly difficult. Walks -- a key component of OBP -- are now appropriately valued, so for a small market team like Kansas City, the more cost-effective way to get on base is by making contact on a field with such wide gaps. In other words, don't try this at home.

Uh-oh: Here Come Facts
Now the facts: the Royals owe their success much less to their approach than to their talent. Lorenzo Cain became an MVP contender this year. Mike Moustakas learned to hit the other way and foiled the shift that foiled him last year. Eric Hosmer fulfilled his potential. Alex Gordon was already a star and Sal Perez rakes relative to his position. So if you want a team construction concept to emulate, here it is -- get really good players.

Lost amid the World Series hype is KC's Achilles heal, one that, largely by luck, avoided exploitation. This was a team reliant on their starting nine like no other, but because the injury gods smiled upon them, their lack of depth was not tested. (I made that very point in May.) Just three non-regulars came to bat 100+ times; the Mets by contrast had nine backups come to the plate that often -- for one less position. There again, building a team virtually free of injury is unquestionably a strategy worth copying.

It might be that GM Dayton Moore has systematically drafted, developed and signed players who make contact and flash leather. It's said (now in retrospect, though I never heard it at the time) that he traded Wil Myers for James Shields in that odd 2013 swap with Tampa Bay because Myers had swing and miss tendencies. But much of this has to be happenstance. The players who prospered in the Minors -- and in Kaufman Stadium -- were these kinds of players, so these are the types who comprise the roster. Teasing out cause and effect is tricky business, especially from where you and I sit.

There may be other franchises that take a swing at the Royals' model, especially those in big parks like San Diego and -- snicker -- Citi Field, where the front office is cost-controlled. It makes no sense in Fenway, Wrigley or Coors, or generally most anywhere else. Which means, you're unlikely to get invited to a 2035 party and encouraged to dress as a contact hitter from 2015.

Depth: The New Inefficiency

Last season, the New York Yankees roster went on the disabled list.  In the absence of players like Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez, Curtis Granderson and Mark Teixeira, the Bombers plugged in whatever they could rummage from the junkyard -- Jason Nix, Eduardo Nunez, Lyle Overbay, Travis Hafner and a cast of thousands who contributed even less. The result was their second playoff absence since 1995.

Meanwhile, the talent-challenged Rays and A's made the playoffs, winning 92 and 96 games respectively. The Athletics featured one star -- the hitherto unknown third baseman Josh Donaldson -- and no one else who either batted over .300 or socked more than 30 homers. On the mound, Bartolo Colon shocked the league with an 18-6, 2.65 record, but you'd be forgiven if you never heard of the rest of the staff.

So how did Oakland win the West? How about this: seven of nine regulars posted an above average OPS, and all nine cleared 90% of league average. Another five backups with 100+ at bats contributed likewise. On the hill, the A's threw six quality arms at the league, the worst of whom was Tommy Milone, 12-9, 4.14 with a K/BB rate over three. The bullpen chipped in well-distributed excellence, with seven above-average pitchers finishing more than 10 games each.

It wasn't just the numbers on the bench. Skipper Bob Melvin slotted 18 different players into the DH role over the 162 games, using it to maximize lefty-righty and offense-defense match-ups. Four catchers shared shin guard duty -- Derek Norris, utility man John Jaso and Kurt Suzuki for their hitting skills and Stephen Vogt for his defense.

This year, Billy Beane inked four solid relievers to longish-term deals, a rarity in MLB and certainly in Oakland. The lead the AL in scoring and in ERA; following a four-game skid they remain atop the AL West.

For a couple of years after Moneyball spilled Beane's beans, the A's lost a bit of their edge. But he has found new inefficiencies to exploit and has Oakland poised to ride their embarrassingly low payroll to a third straight West Division title. And it's easy to see what the inefficiency is.

While the Yankees were reacting to inevitable injuries on their geriatric roster, the A's prepared for it by inking average players to moderate paydays and scattering them around the diamond. The result is a catching platoon of Derek Norris and John Jaso that has limited their plate appearances to opposite-handed starters. Combined they are hitting .302/.397/.482 and earning $2.8 million.

Just three of the A's 13 moundsmen earn more than $800,000 -- closer Jim Johnson, set-up man Luke Gregerson and starter Scott Kazmir. Hitting star Donaldson, still under team control, takes home half-a-million bucks. It's as if the A's, unable to afford George Clooney and Sandra Bullock, entice Jeremy Irons and Emma Thompson to act in their movie for scale, and then ink Annette Benning, Robert Downey, Jr. and Maggie Smith to low-dough deals with the promise of juicy roles. 

It's working, and as soon as the rest of baseball figures it out, Oakland and Tampa will be on to something else.

The Truth About Seamheads

A visit to New York gave me an opportunity to watch the terrific Met TV broadcast team of Gary Cohen, Keith Hernandez and Ron Darling for the first time.

(Full disclosure: Cohen was a college broadcast partner and is a longtime friend. Darling was a subject of a couple of those broadcasts. My friend Mitch has a brother named Keith.)

They talk constantly of on base percentage. Hernandez stresses plate discipline. They seem to understand the massive role of luck. And yet even they -- Hernandez particularly -- (sorry, Mitch's brother) repeated constantly some old shibboleths about new analysis.

Here are some common misconceptions, some of which gained currency on the telecast I saw and others that I hear regularly.

1. "Moneyball" represents stat guys.

Moneyball was a book written by Michael Lewis (not Billy Beane) and a movie sort-of depicting the book. It's about the GM of the small-market A's exploiting inefficiencies in the baseball labor market, particularly with respect to on base percentage. Beyond that, the book and movie (which took the kinds of liberties with the facts that get new head football coaches fired) have no relationship with new baseball analytics.  Calling the work of new analysis "Moneyball" suggests ignorance right from the get-go.

2. Seamheads don't care about batting average.

Batting average is the apple in apple pie. The pie is on-base percentage, which includes other important ingredients, like walks, the crust of the pie.  Carlos Pena can bat .198 and have the same on base percentage as Ichiro, batting .320. In that case, batting average isn't very telling. But if Pena could hit .250, he'd be a star. When Ichiro hits .280, he's a scrub. You need the apples and the crust to make a good pie, and if you ignore the crust, you're not getting the full pie.

3. Stat guys don't like stolen bases.

How can anyone not like stolen bases? Moving a runner from first to second is precious. Stat guys don't like caught stealings. Giving up an out is way more precious. So if you're going to break for second, make sure you've first paid homage to the patron saint of thievery.

Beyond that, even stat guys realize that always playing by the book makes a team predictable, assuming the other team has the same book. (They do. It's on their Nook.) Teams have to bluff ocassionally lest they become transparent.

4. Sabermetricians think they have all the answers.

All the seamheads I read recognize that most of the game is invisible. Hell, R.A. Dickey is 10-1. Dodger backstop A.J. Ellis has a .436 on base percentage. Twins rookie Scott Diamond from Binghamton University has a 2.13 ERA and a 5-1 K/BB ratio. Who had that parlay?

5. The new analysts think the whole game can be reduced to numbers.

What new analysis has shown us is exactly what can and what can't be quantified. Many old schoolers believe RBIs demonstrate how "clutch" a player is. The new analysis proved that "clutchness" is hard to quantify, and however it might be, RBIs are completely unsuited to the task.
 
6. Stat dufuses (the plural of dufus) think they can measure fielding even when their conclusions are contradicted by observation.

Hidebound traditionalists don't realize when they are observing with their hearts. Sometimes the new defensive measures help us to see that. But in 2012, that area of research is still in its adolescence and should not be trusted with the car keys. Right now, the defensive metrics are a tool to help us check our work, but they can't completely replace our eyes, even with all our inherent bias.

7. Seamheads never played the game. They can't possibly know as much as guys who did.

You've obviously never listened to the profound insights of Rob Dibble. Why should a monosyllabic cretin with a live arm see the inner workings of the game more clearly than someone who studies it?

8. The stat goobers don't understand the value of team chemistry.

Maybe the traditionalists can quantify it for the rest of us. Maybe they can explain how the squabbling 1972 A's won the World Series. And then repeated in '73. While they're at it, they might want to do the same for Billy Martin's dysfunctional '77 Yankees and the same primadonnas under Bob Lemon in '78. Those '62 Mets and 2003 Tigers had more good chemistry than Brad Pitt's high school reunion. How'd that work out for them? (NY and Detroit, not the reunion.)

No workplace functions as well when employees prefer splenectomies to each other's company. I wouldn't sign Manny Ramirez to my team with Jamie Dimon's money. But chemistry doesn't replace talent. If you want Veteran Presence and Clubhouse Leadership, hire good coaches.

9. Even with all their numbers, the sabermetrics numbskulls aren't any better at predicting who will succed in the Majors than the teams themselves.

That's because the sabermetrics numbskulls and the teams are one and the same. Every team in the league uses sabermetrics (in addition to scouting) to evaluate talent and avoid losing ground to everyone else using sabermetrics.

10. SABR monkeys don't put much stock in saves, pitching wins, RBIs and other traditional statistics.

Whoops, that one's true. Research shows those statistics correlate poorly with what they are attempting to measure.

There are almost certainly more of these, but I'm on the way to a Met game.
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Thirty-five Years and Counting

There's a scene in Moneyball when Brad Pitt, playing Oakland GM Billy Beane, tells A's players that they should not bunt, and if the other team bunts they should just pick up the ball and throw to second for the out. "If your enemy is making mistakes, don't interrupt him," Beane says.

"I always wondered about that," exclaimed the sweet, blond wife who brings a book to the ballpark, on those rare occasions when she accompanies me to one. "Why do teams purposely make an out?"

And with that, my wife leaped over thousands of professional sportswriters and sports talk show hosts who are still thinking and talking about the game as if it were 1923. Simply by dint of watching this flawed and sometimes apocryphal movie, millions of Americans will know more about baseball than, say Mike Greenberg and Mike Golick, hosts of the most popular national sports radio show, or a Baltimore Sun reporter who wrote an article two years ago for my local paper about the struggles of Jeff Francoeur without ever mentioning walks or on base percentage.

Now that the calendar has flipped, we've moved another year clear of 1977, the year Bill James first published his Baseball Abstract debunking many of the myths that no longer permeate Major League Baseball's backrooms but remain hallmarks of baseball reportage. Writers, announcers and fans who still exalt batting average and RBIs, pitching wins and saves, chemistry and clutch hitting are now 35 years behind the times, and counting.

They are the equivalent of a political reporter who speculates who's going to face President Carter in the next election. (It couldn't have been Sarah Palin; she started junior high school that year.) They are the Catholic Church condemning Copernicus's (and then Galileo's) proof of heliocentrism, before finally acknowledging its truth more than 300 years later. They are my neighbors in South Carolina who still can't bring themselves, 151 years later, to recognize that the Civil War was fought over slavery. The people charged with informing us about baseball know less about the soul of the game than my thoroughly apathetic bride.

I've noted before that the demonizing of scouts and dismissal of defensive value are unforgivably narrow-minded turns in the book and movie. And I've questioned -- just a few posts ago -- Billy Beane's endless rebuilding for a nebulous future. But those who continue to deny the revolution in baseball analysis are on the wrong side of history. Even my wife can tell them that.

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Bollocks to Moneyball

Upon his retirement, Tony LaRussa, a successful innovator and sure-fire Hall of Famer, "ridiculed 'Moneyball' and its emphasis on statistics over human scouting and observation" according to the Associated Press.

Critics have smiled on Moneyball, the movie, but LaRussa has described why I was uneasy about the book and have no plans to see the film.

Moneyball, the book, cast statheads as cowboys and scouts as Indians (feather, not dot or Cleveland varieties). The analogy is apt because the relationships are far more messy and complicated. Scouts, like seamheads, are necessary but insufficient for the proper functioning of a Major League baseball franchise.

The real debate was never between stats and scouts, it was between useful stats and misleading stats. That's why the St. Louis Cardinals employ number-crunchers, just as every MLB team does, to help reveal some of the game's hidden insights. Over the years, new analysis has exploded long-held myths, including Larussa's signature creation, the folly of saving your best reliever for ninth-inning mop-up when you could employ him to put out fires in other innings. Maybe that's why LaRussa is sore.

Or maybe he's sick of the false dichotomy. LaRussa knows better than Bill James' personal guru how Matt Holliday feels today or whether Chris Carpenter can go on short rest or if John Jay can be relied on to drop a bunt. Team number crunchers have a better handle on the general efficacy of a bunt in a given situation.

In fact, LaRussa has been most renowned for his pitching match-ups, a strategy fully infused with both scouting and stats. The guy with the binoculars on LaRussa's left shoulder whispers that the opposing batter hates the high heat thrown by the righty in the pen. The SABR dude on his right shoulder notes that the batter has a .650 OPS against southpaws in day games. LaRussa's particular genius was to be open to surprising information, synthesize it and act on it.

Moneyball correctly cast Billy Beane and his band of mavericks as explorers who had found new worlds and were benefiting from the small competitive advantages they conveyed. There is absolutely no question that statistical research can unlock mysteries and disprove old customs in the game, though those advantages are becoming more nuanced and less impactful as the practice has become widespread. Likewise, there's no doubt that observation can reveal nuances unnoticed by the statistics. But unlike stats, observation can be corrupted by human psychology -- things like confirmation bias and cognitive dissonance -- that has no power over the null hypothesis or a two-tailed test.

Here's a World Series example of the two at work: Mid-year, this blog noted the amazing performance of young Ranger starter Alexi Ogando, who twirled a 9-3, 2.92 line with a .591 OPS-against. Spectacular, but with a .241 BABIP and some other component statistics pointing the wrong way, I suggested a decline was in order. Furthermore, Ogando had reached his professional career high for innings by July. The Rangers  noted this, not to mention his 4-5, 4.48 performance in the second half, and downgraded him to the pen, where innings aren't so readily available.

A statmonger could guess that Ogando was gassed. I'm betting that keen observers like LaRussa and his staff could see it. In any case, the Cards feasted on Ogando for 14 baserunners and four runs in only seven outs. (To be fair, he was great in 9.2 innings of AL playoff service.)

The bottom line is that teams fare best when statisticians and scouts respect and rely on each other for confirmation of what they believe they've found. It's time to forget the false dichotomy perpetrated by Moneyball and just accept stats and scouts for what they are. 

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