You may recall this post back in April. I made a bit of a to-do about the folly of predicting a Cubs playoff appearance. At the risk of quoting that brilliant philosopher, my own personal self, here's what I said at the time:
"...not since 2008, coming off a roaring 97-win season, has hope taken residence so distant from reality."
Right. Well, about that.
See, here's the thing about predictions in baseball: you can be flat wrong about everything and still call the winner. Or you can nail the logic but get foiled by the vagaries of the game. If you placed those two ideas on opposite ends of the street, I'd be standing on the corner of Well-reasoned and Wrong.
The point of that article was that the Cubs were coming off an 89-loss season even while many of their young players; think Jake Arrieta, Anthony Rizzo, Kyle Hendrick and Starlin Castro; had already blossomed. Despite the addition of Jon Lester and Dexter Fowler; not to mention manager Joe Maddon; and the imminent arrival of Kris Bryant, Jorge Soler and that group; it seemed wise to counsel patience. Rookies not named Vida, Fernando, or The Bird don't generally rocket to success immediately. Some veteran acquisitions don't pan out. Sophomores often stumble following promising freshman seasons. And empty rosters don't unempty themselves just because a couple of newbies join the ranks.
So what happened? All the touted met their tout line, plus 235 pounds of Kyle Schwarber arrived mashing. Jake Arrieta got in touch with his inner Superman. None of the top four starters missed a start. Lester and Fowler played as advertised. The squad served as windshield to the injury bug. New manager Joe Maddon thrilled everyone and the team emerged victorious 97 times plus change in the playoffs.
The point is, that post was right. It was unreasonable to expect the Cubs to blossom all at once, maintain the gains of the previous season and enjoy the fruits of veteran labor without some setbacks. That can happen, it does, and it did. But that's not the way to bet.
The stories were similar in Flushing, Houston and Minnesota, which is why I wasn't too sanguine on any of those teams' chances. The Nationals and Angels are more talented than all of those teams, but sometimes, it's more important how much lightning is in the bottle than how much talent. And nowhere was that more obvious than with the Cubs.
Showing posts with label playoffs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label playoffs. Show all posts
10 November 2015
15 October 2015
How's That Home Field Working For You?
"There's nothing I hate more than nothing. Nothing keeps me up at night. I toss and turn over nothing. Nothing can cause a great big fight." Edie Brickell & New Bohemians, 1988
Oh, that home field advantage! It has catapulted two Wild Cards into the division series and four teams into their League Championship playoffs.
Wait, what's that? It hasn't?
If the Dodgers win their tilt with the Mets tonight, the Game One victor from every series will be watching the League Championship Series on television. Oh-for-four. That's the definition of critical, all right.
Finally, there are those mental calculations people do to predict who will win a series. Specifically, let's look at the ridiculous strategy of comparing pitchers and just assigning the win to the ace.
I calculate that the eight teams in the Division Series would have considered these pitchers aces:
Jacob deGrom - Mets
Clayton Kershaw - Dodgers
Zack Greinke - Dodgers
David Price - Blue Jays
Cole Hamels - Rangers
Jake Arrieta - Cubs
Dallas Keuchel - Astros
Johnny Cueto - Royals
We're having a plumbing problem here. I'm not sure the Cardinals would consider John Lackey their ace and you could make a case for the Cubs' Jon Lester. You could certainly argue against Johnny Cueto, but he was brought to K.C. for just that purpose. So that's three Johns at issue.
Let's see how their teams fared when they pitched:
Cueto - 2-0
Price - 1-1
Keuchel - 1-1
Hamels - 1-1
Kershaw - 1-1
Greinke - 1-0
deGrom - 1-0
Arrieta - 1-0
Greinke and deGrom will split tonight's game, so that's a wash. All told, the team sending its ace to the hill went 10-5. That's superb. It's probably unusual. But in any case, it's hardly automatic. You would love 2-1 odds in your favor for the deciding game, but every third time you would lose.
These are still uselessly small samples. But the point is that when you count something as an automatic, as many people do with the #1 arm, the first game winner and the home team, and it turns out to be a 5% advantage, that's a bit of a myth-buster.
And if you know that's a small sample size, then you know enough to examine a large enough sample -- like playoff games all time. In other words, you examine the facts. And that's when you stop predicting games based on who's got the shorter commute.
Oh, that home field advantage! It has catapulted two Wild Cards into the division series and four teams into their League Championship playoffs.
Wait, what's that? It hasn't?
- Road warriors swept the Wild Card play-ins games.
- Road teams have captured exactly half the Division Series wins, not counting tonight's Mets-Dodgers finale. If the home nine wins in L.A., the "advantage" will amount to 5% (a 10-9 record or .526 winning percentage), exactly as noted a fortnight ago in this space.
- Last licks played a role in exactly none of the contests. The team ahead after eight innings won every time.
If the Dodgers win their tilt with the Mets tonight, the Game One victor from every series will be watching the League Championship Series on television. Oh-for-four. That's the definition of critical, all right.
Finally, there are those mental calculations people do to predict who will win a series. Specifically, let's look at the ridiculous strategy of comparing pitchers and just assigning the win to the ace.
I calculate that the eight teams in the Division Series would have considered these pitchers aces:
Jacob deGrom - Mets
Clayton Kershaw - Dodgers
Zack Greinke - Dodgers
David Price - Blue Jays
Cole Hamels - Rangers
Jake Arrieta - Cubs
Dallas Keuchel - Astros
Johnny Cueto - Royals
We're having a plumbing problem here. I'm not sure the Cardinals would consider John Lackey their ace and you could make a case for the Cubs' Jon Lester. You could certainly argue against Johnny Cueto, but he was brought to K.C. for just that purpose. So that's three Johns at issue.
Let's see how their teams fared when they pitched:
Cueto - 2-0
Price - 1-1
Keuchel - 1-1
Hamels - 1-1
Kershaw - 1-1
Greinke - 1-0
deGrom - 1-0
Arrieta - 1-0
Greinke and deGrom will split tonight's game, so that's a wash. All told, the team sending its ace to the hill went 10-5. That's superb. It's probably unusual. But in any case, it's hardly automatic. You would love 2-1 odds in your favor for the deciding game, but every third time you would lose.
These are still uselessly small samples. But the point is that when you count something as an automatic, as many people do with the #1 arm, the first game winner and the home team, and it turns out to be a 5% advantage, that's a bit of a myth-buster.
And if you know that's a small sample size, then you know enough to examine a large enough sample -- like playoff games all time. In other words, you examine the facts. And that's when you stop predicting games based on who's got the shorter commute.
12 October 2015
E-Ump, E-Replay, E-League
What do you call it when everyone gets every possible decision wrong? A grand slam? Taking the collar? E-ump, E-replay, E-league?
That's the dumpster fire that was Chase Utley's leg-breaking slide into Ruben Tejada at second base in Game 2 of the Mets-Dodgers series.
In case you snuck out of the country for a week to a place without a connection to the rest of the world - let's say you were enjoying North Korea's independence celebrations with that nation's inmates -- here's the rundown: With runners on first and third and one out, Utley slid well wide of second on a grounder behind the bag to bust up a double play.
Under any reading of the rules, the slide was illegal. He wasn't aiming for the base but for the fielder and never came in contact with the bag. He should have been ruled out for interference, irrespective of Tejada's broken fibula.
It was also clearly not malicious. Chase Utley has a 15-year record of hard-nosed but principled play. His efforts helped a run score. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, of which there shouldn't be any.
The ump ruled Utley out on a force, but the replay demonstrated that Tejada, because of his awkward positioning, missed the bag. The anonymous replay umpire from behind the curtain in New York overruled the call but didn't propose interference.
No one seems to know what powers the Great Oz in New York has, but someone should have sent Utley off the field. Indeed, they should have ruled the batter out too, because the illegal slide prevented any attempt at turning two. That would have ended the inning and negated the run.
Then, to compound the mistakes, Joe Torre, now an MLB mucky-muck, suspended Utley for two critical games -- maybe the last two of L.A.'s season. That move implies that Utley committed a purposeful act and gave the Mets ammunition for their cries of "dirty play."
There is no evidence for this decision, but plenty to the contrary. The ump, the replay apparition and the suits all got it wrong. Utley and Howie Kendrick should have been out, the inning should have been over, the run shouldn't have scored. And Utley should have been in the on-deck circle preparing to bat against Matt Harvey in Game 3. Sadly, Tejada's leg is broken either way.
Let's hope the rulings don't have much impact on the outcome of the series.
That's the dumpster fire that was Chase Utley's leg-breaking slide into Ruben Tejada at second base in Game 2 of the Mets-Dodgers series.
In case you snuck out of the country for a week to a place without a connection to the rest of the world - let's say you were enjoying North Korea's independence celebrations with that nation's inmates -- here's the rundown: With runners on first and third and one out, Utley slid well wide of second on a grounder behind the bag to bust up a double play.
Under any reading of the rules, the slide was illegal. He wasn't aiming for the base but for the fielder and never came in contact with the bag. He should have been ruled out for interference, irrespective of Tejada's broken fibula.
It was also clearly not malicious. Chase Utley has a 15-year record of hard-nosed but principled play. His efforts helped a run score. He deserves the benefit of the doubt, of which there shouldn't be any.
The ump ruled Utley out on a force, but the replay demonstrated that Tejada, because of his awkward positioning, missed the bag. The anonymous replay umpire from behind the curtain in New York overruled the call but didn't propose interference.
No one seems to know what powers the Great Oz in New York has, but someone should have sent Utley off the field. Indeed, they should have ruled the batter out too, because the illegal slide prevented any attempt at turning two. That would have ended the inning and negated the run.
Then, to compound the mistakes, Joe Torre, now an MLB mucky-muck, suspended Utley for two critical games -- maybe the last two of L.A.'s season. That move implies that Utley committed a purposeful act and gave the Mets ammunition for their cries of "dirty play."
There is no evidence for this decision, but plenty to the contrary. The ump, the replay apparition and the suits all got it wrong. Utley and Howie Kendrick should have been out, the inning should have been over, the run shouldn't have scored. And Utley should have been in the on-deck circle preparing to bat against Matt Harvey in Game 3. Sadly, Tejada's leg is broken either way.
Let's hope the rulings don't have much impact on the outcome of the series.
09 October 2015
The Injustice of the One-Game Play-In
Think about packing a box to send a birthday gift to a friend. It has six sides, all of them solid. We want to fill the box as much as possible to maximize the gift.
We're going to place stacks of flat objects in the box that nearly fill it. Then we're going to squish some fist-sized items the consistency of bean bags into the box. They can be molded to any shape but they still take up room. We're running out of room, but we can tear open a couple of those bean bags and disperse most of the beads before tying back up the bag and stuffing it inside.
Man, we really want to cram more stuff in there. It's a flat fee for shipping, so the more we get in, the better the value. But the box is groaning at the seams. In fact, some of the bean bags are poking above the fold. We'll tape it up best we can. It's pretty jerry-rigged.
We could just bring the gifts to our friend but it wouldn't be the same. Every year since forever we have been shipping a box of goodies and it's a nice tradition we want to keep. We could send fewer gifts too, but that's another great tradition.
And that is the baseball's dilemma in a nutshell, or a box.
Baseball is stuck on a 162-game schedule because it's been that way for 54 years. There's nothing magic about 162 games; in fact, with the elimination of double-headers, they don't really fit between harvests in Northern climes with the populations to support Major League teams. They shouldn't be playing baseball in New York, Chicago, Cleveland, Philadelphia, Detroit, Milwaukee or plenty of other MLB cities in early April or October, particularly at night. But they must. A more sensible 140-game schedule is a non-starter, like Republicans acknowledging that they don't understand science.
So the season spans the months that can barely support a warm-weather sport, and then the playoffs begin and stretch into November, at night, often in places whose winters are debuting. World Series games in those cities are deplorable nonsense. The box is stretched beyond its limit.
Beyond that, baseball has encountered another conundrum. Fans turn tail when their home nine is eliminated in August. It makes for a soul-crushing season and induces them to turn their attention to their alma mater's minor league football team. With the number of baseball teams doubling since 1960, they want more opportunities to get into the post-season tournament. We need to fit ever more into the box.
But the game reveals itself only through the long slog of the season. Any cellar dweller can rattle off a week's worth of wins; any pennant contender can slip up over half-a-fortnight. The tournament, though sometimes enthralling, has lost its ability to determine the "best" team. It merely asserts a champion, whose crown fetches diminishing amounts on ebay.
For the first 68 years of the previous century, the two league winners competed unencumbered by "playoffs" for the World Series crown, with the victor reasonably claiming superiority over all. For another couple of decades, the league split into divisions and each World Series team was forced to defeat its foe from across the Mississippi to earn a slot in the championship. That led to some questionable World Series opponents, but still, they had won a segment of the marathon.
And then the Wild Card, and the playoffs devolved into a series of coin flips. So the regular season is more thrilling but the race to the championship is dishwater. The last teams in are winning the tournament with disturbing regularity. Moreover, the post-season has begun to tear the sides of the box.
To counteract the playoff success of the Wild Card, MLB gave it a twin and ordered a sudden-death play-in. Even more value to the fans and a sense of advantage to the division winners. Alas, the box cannot expand any more.
There is time for but one game, a winner-take-all. It's that last bean bag, drained of most of its beads. The drama builds but the fairness declines.
After the 98-win Pirates succumbed to Jake Arrieta Wednesday night, voices rose again about extending the play-in to at least three games. But the calendar is inflexible. And so Baseball is pushing up against all six sides of the box. It wants more games than the calendar will hold. It wants more teams in the playoffs but that dilutes the championship. Short playoff series accommodate the seasons but eliminate the best teams more often. Longer series present the opposite dilemma.
The center cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
And under-girding the entire enterprise is the constant drumbeat of economics, which is never satisfied with too much and must always demand more, more, more. And so the box is splitting and the sensible course of action -- remove some of the contents -- cannot be considered.
That is the injustice of the one-game play-in. And it is not going away.
We're going to place stacks of flat objects in the box that nearly fill it. Then we're going to squish some fist-sized items the consistency of bean bags into the box. They can be molded to any shape but they still take up room. We're running out of room, but we can tear open a couple of those bean bags and disperse most of the beads before tying back up the bag and stuffing it inside.
Man, we really want to cram more stuff in there. It's a flat fee for shipping, so the more we get in, the better the value. But the box is groaning at the seams. In fact, some of the bean bags are poking above the fold. We'll tape it up best we can. It's pretty jerry-rigged.
We could just bring the gifts to our friend but it wouldn't be the same. Every year since forever we have been shipping a box of goodies and it's a nice tradition we want to keep. We could send fewer gifts too, but that's another great tradition.
And that is the baseball's dilemma in a nutshell, or a box.
Baseball is stuck on a 162-game schedule because it's been that way for 54 years. There's nothing magic about 162 games; in fact, with the elimination of double-headers, they don't really fit between harvests in Northern climes with the populations to support Major League teams. They shouldn't be playing baseball in New York, Chicago, Cleveland, Philadelphia, Detroit, Milwaukee or plenty of other MLB cities in early April or October, particularly at night. But they must. A more sensible 140-game schedule is a non-starter, like Republicans acknowledging that they don't understand science.
So the season spans the months that can barely support a warm-weather sport, and then the playoffs begin and stretch into November, at night, often in places whose winters are debuting. World Series games in those cities are deplorable nonsense. The box is stretched beyond its limit.
Beyond that, baseball has encountered another conundrum. Fans turn tail when their home nine is eliminated in August. It makes for a soul-crushing season and induces them to turn their attention to their alma mater's minor league football team. With the number of baseball teams doubling since 1960, they want more opportunities to get into the post-season tournament. We need to fit ever more into the box.
But the game reveals itself only through the long slog of the season. Any cellar dweller can rattle off a week's worth of wins; any pennant contender can slip up over half-a-fortnight. The tournament, though sometimes enthralling, has lost its ability to determine the "best" team. It merely asserts a champion, whose crown fetches diminishing amounts on ebay.
For the first 68 years of the previous century, the two league winners competed unencumbered by "playoffs" for the World Series crown, with the victor reasonably claiming superiority over all. For another couple of decades, the league split into divisions and each World Series team was forced to defeat its foe from across the Mississippi to earn a slot in the championship. That led to some questionable World Series opponents, but still, they had won a segment of the marathon.
And then the Wild Card, and the playoffs devolved into a series of coin flips. So the regular season is more thrilling but the race to the championship is dishwater. The last teams in are winning the tournament with disturbing regularity. Moreover, the post-season has begun to tear the sides of the box.
To counteract the playoff success of the Wild Card, MLB gave it a twin and ordered a sudden-death play-in. Even more value to the fans and a sense of advantage to the division winners. Alas, the box cannot expand any more.
There is time for but one game, a winner-take-all. It's that last bean bag, drained of most of its beads. The drama builds but the fairness declines.
After the 98-win Pirates succumbed to Jake Arrieta Wednesday night, voices rose again about extending the play-in to at least three games. But the calendar is inflexible. And so Baseball is pushing up against all six sides of the box. It wants more games than the calendar will hold. It wants more teams in the playoffs but that dilutes the championship. Short playoff series accommodate the seasons but eliminate the best teams more often. Longer series present the opposite dilemma.
The center cannot hold. Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world.
And under-girding the entire enterprise is the constant drumbeat of economics, which is never satisfied with too much and must always demand more, more, more. And so the box is splitting and the sensible course of action -- remove some of the contents -- cannot be considered.
That is the injustice of the one-game play-in. And it is not going away.
03 October 2015
The Myth of Home Field Advantage
The Mets and Dodgers are engaged in a great battle, testing whether their team, or the other team, so dedicated to the proposition of winning the World Series, can long endure. They are met on separate battlefields -- the Mets at Citi Field against Washington and the Dodgers in L.A. versus the Padres.
A portion of that home field will serve as a final resting place for one team's playoff hopes so that the other team's might live on.
Is it altogether fitting and proper that they should do this?
Likewise, the Pirates and Cubs do indirect battle for home field in their one-game play-in. Will people little note, nor long remember, who batted last?
The answer, as even a Phillies fan in Gettysburg can see, is that these are very different questions.
For the season, home teams have emerged victorious roughly 55% of the time. Home cooking, familiarity with the field, a partisan crowd and the final at bat conspire to roughly a 10% advantage. That's not an insignificant edge in a game pitting essentially even teams like Pittsburgh and Chicago in a single, sudden-death tilt.
New York and L.A. are also essentially even, having both played .560 ball this year en route to division titles. But home field conveys so much less advantage to them, even though the Dodgers have won two-thirds of their games at Chavez Ravine and just 45% of their games as the visitor.
Their series will be five games long. The home team enjoys an advantage if the series goes three or five games. The margin of that edge can be expressed this way: in a 21-game series, the home team can be expected to win 11 times. Not really a game-changer.
In a seven-game playoff, it's so much less significant. In series that end after four or six games, each team will have hosted half the contests. In a five-game set, the lower-ranked team actually has the home field advantage in a 2-3-2 format.
So home field "advantage" is a small disadvantage in a truncated seven-game series and is a benefit only in the full seven, and even then, worth just 10% in that one game. Because roughly a quarter of series extend to their full measure, homefield accounts for just a 2.5% edge. That's the difference between the Mets at 89-70 and the Dodgers at 90-70, which is where they stand at this writing. Factoring in the home field deficit through Game Five, the total value of the better record is essentially a rounding error.
You'd rather have home field than not, but teams would be much better advised to spend their time arranging their rotations, resting their bullpens, healing the injured and preparing their entire rosters psychologically for the amped emotions of playoff baseball.
And "analysts" would be better advised to just shut up about home field advantage.
A portion of that home field will serve as a final resting place for one team's playoff hopes so that the other team's might live on.
Is it altogether fitting and proper that they should do this?
Likewise, the Pirates and Cubs do indirect battle for home field in their one-game play-in. Will people little note, nor long remember, who batted last?
The answer, as even a Phillies fan in Gettysburg can see, is that these are very different questions.
For the season, home teams have emerged victorious roughly 55% of the time. Home cooking, familiarity with the field, a partisan crowd and the final at bat conspire to roughly a 10% advantage. That's not an insignificant edge in a game pitting essentially even teams like Pittsburgh and Chicago in a single, sudden-death tilt.
New York and L.A. are also essentially even, having both played .560 ball this year en route to division titles. But home field conveys so much less advantage to them, even though the Dodgers have won two-thirds of their games at Chavez Ravine and just 45% of their games as the visitor.
Their series will be five games long. The home team enjoys an advantage if the series goes three or five games. The margin of that edge can be expressed this way: in a 21-game series, the home team can be expected to win 11 times. Not really a game-changer.
In a seven-game playoff, it's so much less significant. In series that end after four or six games, each team will have hosted half the contests. In a five-game set, the lower-ranked team actually has the home field advantage in a 2-3-2 format.
So home field "advantage" is a small disadvantage in a truncated seven-game series and is a benefit only in the full seven, and even then, worth just 10% in that one game. Because roughly a quarter of series extend to their full measure, homefield accounts for just a 2.5% edge. That's the difference between the Mets at 89-70 and the Dodgers at 90-70, which is where they stand at this writing. Factoring in the home field deficit through Game Five, the total value of the better record is essentially a rounding error.
You'd rather have home field than not, but teams would be much better advised to spend their time arranging their rotations, resting their bullpens, healing the injured and preparing their entire rosters psychologically for the amped emotions of playoff baseball.
And "analysts" would be better advised to just shut up about home field advantage.
16 August 2015
Everyone in the Pool!
The baseball team representing my alma mater plays about 40 games in a full season. With 40 games left in the MLB season, it seems pretty clear that the Kansas City Royals will play October baseball, and not the play-in variety. They have a 12-game lead in the AL Central and a formula that worked reasonably well last year without hitting, which they now have, if not in abundance then at least in sufficiency.
The Yankees, Blue Jays and Astros all appear poised to join K.C., but at only 10-13 games over .500, a two-week skid could bury any of them. Consider that Toronto rode an 11-game win streak that ended this weekend to climb from also-ran to favorite. At the same time the Yankees blew an eight-game lead over the Jays to fall temporarily into second. New York is elderly and its mound corps is spotty. For Toronto, spotty is an improvement. The Astros are frightfully young, untested and almost entirely relying on two pitchers.
The Angels own the second Wild Card spot, but just five games clear of .500 and a game ahead of Baltimore, two ahead of Tampa, two-and-a-half in front of Minnesota and Texas. Indeed, everyone but Boston, Oakland and Seattle sits within six games of the Wild Card, including Cleveland, the Central's cellar dwellers. Any one of them could catch a fortnight's rocket ride into that last playoff berth.
Indeed, think of recent years' late season fireworks. The AL Champs themselves were barely above .500 well after the All-Star break before claiming the last post-season spot and then the pennant. The Rangers crash landed in 2013 to miss the playoffs. And the Red Sox and Braves famously choked away the 2011 season by stumbling down the stretch and losing on the last day.
No one knows which team is the one that catapults into the playoffs or slides out of them, which is why, if you peruse Baseball Prospectus's playoff odds calculations, the chances of, for example, the Indians, Twins and Tigers entering the post-season are rated at 8.6%, 3.5% and 3.0% respectively. (The A's and BoSox are listed at under one percent. That's the rough equivalent of good night.) But there is an 80% likelihood that it won't be the five teams now occupying those spots.
So if you have a dog in the fight, be neither complacent nor hopeless. There is a full college season's worth of games remaining.
The Yankees, Blue Jays and Astros all appear poised to join K.C., but at only 10-13 games over .500, a two-week skid could bury any of them. Consider that Toronto rode an 11-game win streak that ended this weekend to climb from also-ran to favorite. At the same time the Yankees blew an eight-game lead over the Jays to fall temporarily into second. New York is elderly and its mound corps is spotty. For Toronto, spotty is an improvement. The Astros are frightfully young, untested and almost entirely relying on two pitchers.
The Angels own the second Wild Card spot, but just five games clear of .500 and a game ahead of Baltimore, two ahead of Tampa, two-and-a-half in front of Minnesota and Texas. Indeed, everyone but Boston, Oakland and Seattle sits within six games of the Wild Card, including Cleveland, the Central's cellar dwellers. Any one of them could catch a fortnight's rocket ride into that last playoff berth.
Indeed, think of recent years' late season fireworks. The AL Champs themselves were barely above .500 well after the All-Star break before claiming the last post-season spot and then the pennant. The Rangers crash landed in 2013 to miss the playoffs. And the Red Sox and Braves famously choked away the 2011 season by stumbling down the stretch and losing on the last day.
No one knows which team is the one that catapults into the playoffs or slides out of them, which is why, if you peruse Baseball Prospectus's playoff odds calculations, the chances of, for example, the Indians, Twins and Tigers entering the post-season are rated at 8.6%, 3.5% and 3.0% respectively. (The A's and BoSox are listed at under one percent. That's the rough equivalent of good night.) But there is an 80% likelihood that it won't be the five teams now occupying those spots.
So if you have a dog in the fight, be neither complacent nor hopeless. There is a full college season's worth of games remaining.
02 August 2015
There Are No Playoff Favorites
Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it.
--George Santayana
Now that teams have re-positioned the linen on a laundry list of free agents and more starkly defined the balance of power in the two leagues, we're starting to hear some of the usual late-season drivel from the baseball media.
Specifically, you're starting to hear about who the pennant favorites are, as if there are no lessons to be gleaned from past post-seasons.
I even read one story by a former general manager calling the Royals the "odds-on favorites" to return to the World Series.
Right, because Kansas City entered last year's playoffs as clearly the best team. Oh wait, no they didn't. In fact, they had a 50% chance of being eliminated even before the playoffs really began.
Which was the same path paved by the World Champion Giants, who entered the post-season with the worst record among playoff teams and a sub-.500 second half.
In 2012, the teams with the four best records -- Oakland, New York, Washington and Cincinnati -- all fell to lesser teams. Indeed, three of the four lost in the first round. The Yankees fell in the ALCS to a Tigers team without a bullpen -- the secret sauce we correlate with post-season success.
In 2011, the Cardinals trailed the Brewers by six games at season's end, but enjoyed the final dogpile of the season.
And so on going back to the advent of the Wild Card. The playoffs are a flat out lottery. Get into the tournament, then get healthy, get hot and get lucky.
So who are the World Series favorites this year? No one, the same as every other year.
Some teams could be said to be favorites in the sense that they will likely make the tournament, which 20 teams won't. But even if they win their division, the odds are 3-1 against them flying a 2015 pennant.
It would be nice if baseball "journalists" and "analysts" could make such calculations. But they're reluctant to remove their shoes in public.
--George Santayana
Now that teams have re-positioned the linen on a laundry list of free agents and more starkly defined the balance of power in the two leagues, we're starting to hear some of the usual late-season drivel from the baseball media.
Specifically, you're starting to hear about who the pennant favorites are, as if there are no lessons to be gleaned from past post-seasons.
I even read one story by a former general manager calling the Royals the "odds-on favorites" to return to the World Series.
Right, because Kansas City entered last year's playoffs as clearly the best team. Oh wait, no they didn't. In fact, they had a 50% chance of being eliminated even before the playoffs really began.
Which was the same path paved by the World Champion Giants, who entered the post-season with the worst record among playoff teams and a sub-.500 second half.
In 2012, the teams with the four best records -- Oakland, New York, Washington and Cincinnati -- all fell to lesser teams. Indeed, three of the four lost in the first round. The Yankees fell in the ALCS to a Tigers team without a bullpen -- the secret sauce we correlate with post-season success.
In 2011, the Cardinals trailed the Brewers by six games at season's end, but enjoyed the final dogpile of the season.
And so on going back to the advent of the Wild Card. The playoffs are a flat out lottery. Get into the tournament, then get healthy, get hot and get lucky.
So who are the World Series favorites this year? No one, the same as every other year.
Some teams could be said to be favorites in the sense that they will likely make the tournament, which 20 teams won't. But even if they win their division, the odds are 3-1 against them flying a 2015 pennant.
It would be nice if baseball "journalists" and "analysts" could make such calculations. But they're reluctant to remove their shoes in public.
01 March 2015
The Aaron Harang Streak That Won't End
I say "Aaron Harang" and you think...what?
Andre the Giant look-a-like?
League-average innings muncher?
Eight-team mercenary?
Active pitcher with the longest career without a playoff appearance?
Yes, Harang has donned a uniform for 13 summers and 352 starts without enjoying firsthand the pageantry of October. Although he has twice entered service for a playoff-bound squad -- first his rookie campaign and then his inaugural season in Cincinnati -- in neither case was he a sufficient staple of the rotation to eat playoff frames. Since then he has endured the Reds' lean years and successive one-year-or-less stints in San Diego, Los Angeles, Seattle, Queens and Atlanta, none of which hosted post-season contests.
This year, at 37, Harang has found work for $5 million before the good people of Philadelphia, or at least what few of them will deign to countenance Citizens Bank ballpark while the home nine kills time until 2019. His streak, so lovingly nurtured across 2,150 innings of regular season action, appears destined to flower further, in large part because Harang can be expected to Rototill innings while Phillies brass contemplate what they can secure in trade for closer Jonathan Papelbon.
The Hardball Times points out that Harang is sixth in baseball in games pitched since he became a regular in 2004, eighth in innings and 11th in strikeouts. That shouldn't obscure what a plug-average hurler he's been over his career. In fact, setting aside his two peak seasons of '06-'07, when he won 32 games with a 3.75 ERA, 24% better than average; consumed 466 innings; fanned four times as many batters as he walked; and added 11.2 wins to the Reds' standing; Harang has enjoyed just one season more than five percent above average and four seasons at least 8% worse.
Over the 13 years, Harang has earned 23 WAR, two-thirds of it in his three best seasons. In Atlanta last year, Harang kept the ball in the park unusually well en route to 204 thoroughly average innings. That is unlikely to occur in Philly's breadbasket ballpark. Don't be surprised if the giant Californian gives back a WAR or two in '15.
Then again, if he continues the third-starter act he reveled in last year, Aaron Harang could find himself trade-deadline bait, perhaps to a contender in need of veteran presence. That's about the only hope he has for the streak to end.
Andre the Giant look-a-like?
League-average innings muncher?
Eight-team mercenary?
Active pitcher with the longest career without a playoff appearance?
Yes, Harang has donned a uniform for 13 summers and 352 starts without enjoying firsthand the pageantry of October. Although he has twice entered service for a playoff-bound squad -- first his rookie campaign and then his inaugural season in Cincinnati -- in neither case was he a sufficient staple of the rotation to eat playoff frames. Since then he has endured the Reds' lean years and successive one-year-or-less stints in San Diego, Los Angeles, Seattle, Queens and Atlanta, none of which hosted post-season contests.
This year, at 37, Harang has found work for $5 million before the good people of Philadelphia, or at least what few of them will deign to countenance Citizens Bank ballpark while the home nine kills time until 2019. His streak, so lovingly nurtured across 2,150 innings of regular season action, appears destined to flower further, in large part because Harang can be expected to Rototill innings while Phillies brass contemplate what they can secure in trade for closer Jonathan Papelbon.
The Hardball Times points out that Harang is sixth in baseball in games pitched since he became a regular in 2004, eighth in innings and 11th in strikeouts. That shouldn't obscure what a plug-average hurler he's been over his career. In fact, setting aside his two peak seasons of '06-'07, when he won 32 games with a 3.75 ERA, 24% better than average; consumed 466 innings; fanned four times as many batters as he walked; and added 11.2 wins to the Reds' standing; Harang has enjoyed just one season more than five percent above average and four seasons at least 8% worse.
Over the 13 years, Harang has earned 23 WAR, two-thirds of it in his three best seasons. In Atlanta last year, Harang kept the ball in the park unusually well en route to 204 thoroughly average innings. That is unlikely to occur in Philly's breadbasket ballpark. Don't be surprised if the giant Californian gives back a WAR or two in '15.
Then again, if he continues the third-starter act he reveled in last year, Aaron Harang could find himself trade-deadline bait, perhaps to a contender in need of veteran presence. That's about the only hope he has for the streak to end.
20 September 2013
The AL East: Your Nose Runs and Your Feet Smell
If you had the AL East this way on your tout sheet to start the season, no one would have even sniffled:
Toronto
Yankees
Baltimore
Tampa Bay
Boston
With 10 games yet to play, your basement dweller has, in real life, clinched a Wild Card berth and is the leading candidate for the best overall record. Your pick for division king has clinched a losing season and lags 12 games behind .500. Indeed, like the man whose nose runs and feet smell , you've got it upside-down.
We all wondered (or fantasized) about the Blue Jays, who cobbled together high-profile parts from failed organizations to create an intriguing roster. Instead, the imports have scuffled either with injury or ineffectiveness or both, leaving Ontarians with a lineup that doesn't get on base and a pitching staff with a 4.65 ERA.
Other than the Jays, the rest of the division is at scraapping furiously for a Wild Card. Tampa Bay, despite its 18-25 August and September, leads the pack. They host Baltimore and visit New York and Toronto in their final 10 games, almost certainly securing a spot with six wins.
For the Orioles, three games short of the Rays, the four meetings in Tampa are critical. Failing to win at least three leaves them dependent on others to take down Tampa and Texas while they exploit last-place Toronto and coasting Boston.
Oh so improbably, the Yankees cling to contention's edge, even as Mariano Rivera and Andy Pettitte prepare for life after baseball, and the Disabled List hogs the services of Mark Teixeira and Derek Jeter. Losers of nine of their last 14, the Bombers have been outscored this year and have auditioned 18 shortstops and 19 third basemen. While the rest of the division engages in internecine warfare, New York can feast on San Francisco and Houston sandwiched around a set with the Rays. Four out in the loss column and trailing four teams for a play-in berth, they probably need to steal seven wins in the last nine to have any hope.
Texas, Cleveland and Kansas City figure into this morass as well. The Rangers, reprising their 2012 role as late season face-planters (they're 4-13 in September), run into hard-charging KC on the road, then host the minor-league Astros and the enigmatic Angels to end the season. The Royals head home for the punchless Mariners and the feckless White Sox. They need at least seven of ten but might have the least resistance of all the contenders to deal with.
Then there is the Tribe, a mere half a game out of the Wild Card after an 11-6 September, but let's face it, they're Cleveland. They're 83-70, they're pounding the ball, their final three opponents (Astros, White Sox and Twins) are a combined 105 games under .500, but . . . they're Cleveland. By all rights they should be favored to nab one of the Wild Card slots. But, as may have been previously noted, Cleveland.
For the record, going into games of Sept. 20, Baseball Prospectus rates Tampa a seven-in-ten favorite to reach the play-in, while Texas is a two-to-one favorite. That means there is a 54% chance that one of them will relinquish their lead, and The Indians are best positioned to accept it. Cleveland is a 50-50 proposition while the Orioles, Royals and Yankees are all rated less than one-in-ten longshots, with New York a one-in-a-100 fantasy. These projections are based on the current roster of each team, their opponents and their current position in the Wild Card puzzle.
Besides determining the winner of the NL Central, it's the only intrigue left in the last two weeks. But from Dallas to the Bronx and from St. Pete to Cleveland, every pitch, every out, every run is magnified, and that's intrigue at the James Bond level.
Toronto
Yankees
Baltimore
Tampa Bay
Boston
With 10 games yet to play, your basement dweller has, in real life, clinched a Wild Card berth and is the leading candidate for the best overall record. Your pick for division king has clinched a losing season and lags 12 games behind .500. Indeed, like the man whose nose runs and feet smell , you've got it upside-down.
We all wondered (or fantasized) about the Blue Jays, who cobbled together high-profile parts from failed organizations to create an intriguing roster. Instead, the imports have scuffled either with injury or ineffectiveness or both, leaving Ontarians with a lineup that doesn't get on base and a pitching staff with a 4.65 ERA.
Other than the Jays, the rest of the division is at scraapping furiously for a Wild Card. Tampa Bay, despite its 18-25 August and September, leads the pack. They host Baltimore and visit New York and Toronto in their final 10 games, almost certainly securing a spot with six wins.
For the Orioles, three games short of the Rays, the four meetings in Tampa are critical. Failing to win at least three leaves them dependent on others to take down Tampa and Texas while they exploit last-place Toronto and coasting Boston.
Oh so improbably, the Yankees cling to contention's edge, even as Mariano Rivera and Andy Pettitte prepare for life after baseball, and the Disabled List hogs the services of Mark Teixeira and Derek Jeter. Losers of nine of their last 14, the Bombers have been outscored this year and have auditioned 18 shortstops and 19 third basemen. While the rest of the division engages in internecine warfare, New York can feast on San Francisco and Houston sandwiched around a set with the Rays. Four out in the loss column and trailing four teams for a play-in berth, they probably need to steal seven wins in the last nine to have any hope.
Texas, Cleveland and Kansas City figure into this morass as well. The Rangers, reprising their 2012 role as late season face-planters (they're 4-13 in September), run into hard-charging KC on the road, then host the minor-league Astros and the enigmatic Angels to end the season. The Royals head home for the punchless Mariners and the feckless White Sox. They need at least seven of ten but might have the least resistance of all the contenders to deal with.
Then there is the Tribe, a mere half a game out of the Wild Card after an 11-6 September, but let's face it, they're Cleveland. They're 83-70, they're pounding the ball, their final three opponents (Astros, White Sox and Twins) are a combined 105 games under .500, but . . . they're Cleveland. By all rights they should be favored to nab one of the Wild Card slots. But, as may have been previously noted, Cleveland.
For the record, going into games of Sept. 20, Baseball Prospectus rates Tampa a seven-in-ten favorite to reach the play-in, while Texas is a two-to-one favorite. That means there is a 54% chance that one of them will relinquish their lead, and The Indians are best positioned to accept it. Cleveland is a 50-50 proposition while the Orioles, Royals and Yankees are all rated less than one-in-ten longshots, with New York a one-in-a-100 fantasy. These projections are based on the current roster of each team, their opponents and their current position in the Wild Card puzzle.
Besides determining the winner of the NL Central, it's the only intrigue left in the last two weeks. But from Dallas to the Bronx and from St. Pete to Cleveland, every pitch, every out, every run is magnified, and that's intrigue at the James Bond level.
09 August 2013
Nothing Certain But Death and Playoff Teams
Why can't you just get it through your head: It's over, it's over now. Yes, you heard me clearly now, I said, it's over." -- Boz Scaggs
While you were busy noticing that the NFL tore its ACL and is out for the season, the Major League Baseball pennant races evaporated. Sorry.
Over the last two weeks, the rich have gotten richer and the struggling middle class has lost ground.
Braves - 14 straight wins
Tigers - 12 straight wins
Rangers - 9 of 10
Pirates - 8 of 10
Dodgers - 15 of 19
----------------------
Yankees - lost 7 of 10
Angels - lost 7 of 10
Phillies - lost 7 of 10
Nats - lost 6 of 10
Dbacks - lost 6 of 10
The result is that, with 50 games left in a season filled with intrigue and mystique, surprises and revelations, breakouts and comebacks, it's largely over but the waiting.
Consider the playoff odds of the teams most likely to see October action, according to Baseball Prospectus:
Tigers - 99.5%
Red Sox - 96%
Rays - 91%
Rangers 80%
A's - 73%
----------------
Indians - 29%
Orioles - 26%
No one else with more than 5% (KC)
Braves - 100%
Pirates - 99.5%
Cardinals - 98%
Dodgers - 97%
Reds - 93%
----------------
D'Backs - 12%
No one else with even 2%
In other words, the NL races are done and only the NL Central division is at issue. (BP gives Pittsburgh the edge.) The nine NL teams with virtually no chance of challenging will get a home version of the game.
There's more to be determined in the AL, with two division races still in play. (Detroit may not have self-government, but it's got the AL Central.) While Cleveland and Baltimore have both shown signs of returning to earth, either is a short winning streak from contention. But that just gets them into the conversation, and neither appears equipped to overtake the teams ahead of them.
We need to be wary of foregone conclusions, of course, but that's not a lot of uncertainty for early August. The Braves have a 15-game cushion. Pittsburgh is 11.5 games clear of the Wild Card. The incumbent World Champs are 12 games under .500, while the two big off-season spenders are a Minor League Astros franchise from occupying last place simultaneously. And that's not even mentioning the consensus best team in baseball, the one with last year's best record. They're all aiming to break even at this point.
Before you wail and rend garments, recall the last few seasons in which the Mets, Braves, Red Sox and Rangers disintegrated in the season's waning days to push Philly, Philly, Tampa and Oakland into the post-season (or in Oakland's case, the division title). Let's hope the lottery known as the playoffs are kinder to us.
While you were busy noticing that the NFL tore its ACL and is out for the season, the Major League Baseball pennant races evaporated. Sorry.
Over the last two weeks, the rich have gotten richer and the struggling middle class has lost ground.
Braves - 14 straight wins
Tigers - 12 straight wins
Rangers - 9 of 10
Pirates - 8 of 10
Dodgers - 15 of 19
----------------------
Yankees - lost 7 of 10
Angels - lost 7 of 10
Phillies - lost 7 of 10
Nats - lost 6 of 10
Dbacks - lost 6 of 10
The result is that, with 50 games left in a season filled with intrigue and mystique, surprises and revelations, breakouts and comebacks, it's largely over but the waiting.
Consider the playoff odds of the teams most likely to see October action, according to Baseball Prospectus:
Tigers - 99.5%
Red Sox - 96%
Rays - 91%
Rangers 80%
A's - 73%
----------------
Indians - 29%
Orioles - 26%
No one else with more than 5% (KC)
Braves - 100%
Pirates - 99.5%
Cardinals - 98%
Dodgers - 97%
Reds - 93%
----------------
D'Backs - 12%
No one else with even 2%
In other words, the NL races are done and only the NL Central division is at issue. (BP gives Pittsburgh the edge.) The nine NL teams with virtually no chance of challenging will get a home version of the game.
There's more to be determined in the AL, with two division races still in play. (Detroit may not have self-government, but it's got the AL Central.) While Cleveland and Baltimore have both shown signs of returning to earth, either is a short winning streak from contention. But that just gets them into the conversation, and neither appears equipped to overtake the teams ahead of them.
We need to be wary of foregone conclusions, of course, but that's not a lot of uncertainty for early August. The Braves have a 15-game cushion. Pittsburgh is 11.5 games clear of the Wild Card. The incumbent World Champs are 12 games under .500, while the two big off-season spenders are a Minor League Astros franchise from occupying last place simultaneously. And that's not even mentioning the consensus best team in baseball, the one with last year's best record. They're all aiming to break even at this point.
Before you wail and rend garments, recall the last few seasons in which the Mets, Braves, Red Sox and Rangers disintegrated in the season's waning days to push Philly, Philly, Tampa and Oakland into the post-season (or in Oakland's case, the division title). Let's hope the lottery known as the playoffs are kinder to us.
22 December 2012
More and More and More Playoffs: Blecch
My newspaper tells me that tonight's NFL tilt between Atlanta and Detroit will help determine whether the Falcons clinch home field advantage on the road to the Super Bowl. The implication is that the contest is significant for this reason despite decades of experience.
In fact, tonight's clash is a near total irrelevance. The last two Super Bowl champs staggered to 9-7 records and slipped into the playoffs in the last week before eliminating all those 13-3 and 12-4 behemoths with home field advantage.
In fact, in American professional sports today simply making the playoffs is the entire goal. Period. After that, flip a coin.
Don't believe me? The football Giants weren't the only team last year to parlay a mediocre regular season into a crown. The L.A. Kings stumbled into the NHL playoffs with more losses than wins, qualified last and then swept through their conference with easy wins over the #1, #2 and #3 seeds before winning the cup in six games.
The 2011 World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals snuck into the post-season on the last day of the regular season with the worst record in the playoffs. (The 2012 World Series champs, the division-winning S.F. Giants, were a legitimate champion.)
During a thankfully truncated NBA season, the Miami Heat faced boobirds and derision because of a 9-8 start before capturing the #2 seed in the East and winning it all.
So when the NHL announces that half its season is lost, even hockey fans should applaud. Forty games seems about right if all they're going to do is eliminate a handful of awful teams. (On the other hand, the league and its players appear on the verge of another Armageddon. All involved have a bright future in Congress, once they earn their American citizenship.)
And we should all laugh when the sport's advocates promote a meaningless match-up like tonight's Falcon-Lion snoozer, as a playoff positioner. Anyone paying the least bit of attention anytime over the last three decades realizes there's no such thing.
A good rule of thumb for playoffs should be this: Qualifying should be sufficiently difficult that some good teams get left out. That ensures that playoff qualifying is an accomplishment and that a good team will win the title irrespective of who catches fire for a couple of weeks in the post-season. Major League baseball and the NFL are both straddling the line, which the NBA and NHL long ago breached.
The NFL is reportedly considering the addition of two more teams to its playoff lineup. It is difficult to overstate how awesomely awful this idea is. Adding two more palyoff slots guarantees that an 8-8 team will parlay a couple of fluke wins into a Super Bowl championship. Blecch.
In fact, tonight's clash is a near total irrelevance. The last two Super Bowl champs staggered to 9-7 records and slipped into the playoffs in the last week before eliminating all those 13-3 and 12-4 behemoths with home field advantage.
In fact, in American professional sports today simply making the playoffs is the entire goal. Period. After that, flip a coin.
Don't believe me? The football Giants weren't the only team last year to parlay a mediocre regular season into a crown. The L.A. Kings stumbled into the NHL playoffs with more losses than wins, qualified last and then swept through their conference with easy wins over the #1, #2 and #3 seeds before winning the cup in six games.
The 2011 World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals snuck into the post-season on the last day of the regular season with the worst record in the playoffs. (The 2012 World Series champs, the division-winning S.F. Giants, were a legitimate champion.)
During a thankfully truncated NBA season, the Miami Heat faced boobirds and derision because of a 9-8 start before capturing the #2 seed in the East and winning it all.
So when the NHL announces that half its season is lost, even hockey fans should applaud. Forty games seems about right if all they're going to do is eliminate a handful of awful teams. (On the other hand, the league and its players appear on the verge of another Armageddon. All involved have a bright future in Congress, once they earn their American citizenship.)
And we should all laugh when the sport's advocates promote a meaningless match-up like tonight's Falcon-Lion snoozer, as a playoff positioner. Anyone paying the least bit of attention anytime over the last three decades realizes there's no such thing.
A good rule of thumb for playoffs should be this: Qualifying should be sufficiently difficult that some good teams get left out. That ensures that playoff qualifying is an accomplishment and that a good team will win the title irrespective of who catches fire for a couple of weeks in the post-season. Major League baseball and the NFL are both straddling the line, which the NBA and NHL long ago breached.
The NFL is reportedly considering the addition of two more teams to its playoff lineup. It is difficult to overstate how awesomely awful this idea is. Adding two more palyoff slots guarantees that an 8-8 team will parlay a couple of fluke wins into a Super Bowl championship. Blecch.
22 April 2011
Everyone in the Pool!
Now that Bud Selig has apparently succeeded in his bloodless Dodger coup, he has turned his sights on his MLB death wish. That, of course, is just a tad bit of hyperbole for the ever-expanding playoffs that now appear to be a fait accompli.
The Commish has suggested that adding two more playoff teams will increase fan interest (provably false), promote the importance of division conquest (obviously true) and advantage the best teams come playoff time (not necessarily true.) Conspicuous in its absence is any mention of lengthening the playoffs into March and November and further diluting the regular season.
Let's take a systematic approach to the 10-team playoff to determine more objectively the value of such a move.
1. Adding a Wild Card play-in raises the likelihood that a division winner advances to the World Series.
Because the differences in baseball teams are only revealed over due course, it's really important for the credibility of the playoffs, and ultimately the championship, for the most accomplished teams over the 162-game schedule to start with a leg up in the post-season.
The added playoff series would seem to disadvantage the Wild Card teams that have to subject themselves to an added level of elimination and possibly burn up a top starter and the bullpen. However, the Wild Card has been the fourth best team in the playoffs just one-third of the time. The Wild Card has been the second best nearly as often, which means that while the division winners will benefit, the best teams won't necessarily. Under Selig's innovation, the embarrassing 1994 Texas Rangers would get a first-round bye for "winning" the West with a 52-62 record while the undeserving Wild Card Indians (66-47) and Royals (64-51) would have been forced to duel an extra round.
2. The play-in series adds urgency to the division title.
This is undoubtedly true, but, so what? What's so special about winning the division? In the anti-climactic 2006 World Series, the 83-78 Cardinals prevailed in their division while the 95-67 Tigers settled for the Wild Card.
3. More teams in contention translates to added fan interest.
Not! Research shows that this phenomenon is isolated and evanescent. It exists almost exclusively for fans of teams long mired in sub-mediocrity, but it dissipates after the first year. It's obvious why: draining the significance of earning a playoff berth offsets the excitement of being in the championship hunt. But if facts don't dissuade you, consider this: if adding teams adds excitement, why not let everyone into the pool? They''ll love it in Pittsburgh!
4. More post-season games inevitably results in more games played in miserable weather -- games that would be postponed in April but have to be played when the championship is at stake. Whatever plan Bud and his buds conjure up for the new format to avoid drifting into November they should apply now to the current format. The post-season is already played way too often in freezing, inclement, non-baseball weather. (See Philadelphia-Tampa Bay World Series.)
5. The more games played after the regular season ends, the less the regular season matters. That might not matter to the NFL, but it presents two major problems in baseball. First, 162 is an awful lot of games to play to codify the inevitable (i.e., Yankees and Red Sox in the playoffs) and second, seven-game series are a crapshoot in baseball. Winning the championship is already more divorced from determining the best team in baseball than in any other sport. Adding the team with the fifth best record in the league widens that gap.
I have a proposal that will boost the magnitude of the regular season, transform division-winning into a critical state, radically improve the quality of World Series combatants and bring the proceedings to a close well before Halloween. It's the most fan-friendly solution, which is to say it's a non-starter with the owners, players and TV networks. It will cost them money in the short run, which seems to be the extent of their vision.
Here's the plan: two divisions in each league, no wild card. One playoff round and then the World Series. Sound familiar? Empty seats didn't start attending playoff games until the Wild Card and its alien spawn -- multiple playoff series -- entered the fray.
It has less chance than Charlie Sheen and a Nobel Peace Prize. But is it too much to ask the lords of baseball to stop the lunacy? Duh...winning!
b
23 January 2011
Retiring A Terrible Idea
There's a political ad running on TV in my town in which a 59-year-old librarian with a torn rotator cuff admonishes our Senator for supporting an increase in the Social Security retirement age. She complains that the constant pain she endures in the hopes of retiring at 62 will be for naught if our Senator is successful.
I am very moved by this ad. I want to find this poor woman. And shoot her.
What is absent from their argument is the cost of allowing people like this apocryphal woman to retire at 62. The cost is that Social Security won't function in 15 years. This ad argues for a handful of people to get all their money right away at the expense of our children and grandchildren ever collecting theirs at all.
This is the rationale currently being pursued by Bud Selig and MLB power brokers with respect to the playoffs. They have embarked on a short-term money-grab that will drag the sport further down the entertainment food chain. It appears likely that, because of the added revenue it will produce, owners and players will approve an expanded playoff structure starting in 2012. They want to add two more teams, and a wild-card round, to the current format.
Apparently Commissioner Bud hasn't noticed that the public is losing interest in baseball's post-season for the following reasons:
1. The team with the fourth (or worse) best record has nearly as much chance of winning the pennant as the team with the best.
2. Too many series = increased chance best teams get knocked off = less compelling championship.
3. Snow showers, sleet, parkas and baseball don't mix. Hello?
4. October belongs to pro and college football. November? Fuhgedaboutit!
More importantly, all the arguments in favor of expanding playoffs -- more teams in the race, more excitement for a larger number of fan bases, blah blah blah -- amount to a smorgasbord of irrelevance in the absence of an accounting of its many costs.
The NBA Effect is this: more teams in the playoffs yield a less meaningful regular season. Under the proposed format, the Yankees, Red Sox and Rays no longer have to worry about winning their division; they can all come to the party! People generally fail to understand that regular season drama is about that last playoff slot. Adding more slots doesn't heighten drama; it reduces its intensity as the best outfits cruise home and weaker teams battle for less significant positions.
The current proposal -- two wild cards play for a berth in the next round -- promises every bit the bone-chilling anticipation of the NCAA hoops play-in game. While the idea correctly tips the scales against division runners-up, it dilutes the accomplishment of getting in.
Worse yet: human beings do not play baseball in Minneapolis (or most of America), at night, in March and November. My yearly Opening Day pilgrimages to Cooperstown were met with closed shops because of the cold. One year it snowed on us. That was when Opening Day was in April. Another round of playoffs? Where you gonna put it? The season needs to be shortened, not lengthened.
All this is irrelevant considering the decision is about legal tender and nothing else. So let's talk cash. Selig is proposing 4-6 extra post-season games -- two best-of-three series. That's 4-6 extra sellouts, 4-6 more televised properties. But again, there's a cost.
Before wild card expansion, the World Series drew 30 million TV viewers in the US. Today, 14 million. There are many reasons, but sucking the life out of the Series is transparently (to me) the most determinative. (The NHL sends its regards.) Offering up a cadaver as your sport's championship does nothing for your sport's overall popularity, as is evidenced by the microscopic TV ratings for baseball's regular season.
MLB's rulers have to look beyond short-term revenue enhancement and focus on the long-term health of the sport. Quick fixes and Band-Aid approaches have slowly degraded the game. A little sacrifice by everyone today might be all it takes to improve the sport's prognosis over time.
Wait, am I talking baseball or Social Security?
b
01 October 2010
Payback Could Be A Bitch
If you're the Philadelphia Phillies, you have to be feeling that what went around has come around on the 2010 season. Buffeted by a rash of early- and mid-season injuries that turned them into newts, the horsies got better and now find themselves uniquely positioned to march through the playoffs.
Payback could be a bitch for the other contenders.
Most likely, Philly will square off with Cincinnati in the division series. The Reds have feasted on the dregs of the league for most of their 89 victories. That is not the formula for ousting Halladay, Oswalt and Hamels (H2O). Las Vegas will be falling all over itself to court wagers against the double defending NL champs.
The Giants and Braves must eliminate San Diego before tussling in the first round. Depending on how long it takes, both teams could use up their best starters. Matt Cain, on the hill tonight, is already out for Game One. The Braves' Jair Jurrjens is hobbled and questionable for the playoffs. Tim Hudson is scheduled to go Sunday if the Braves still need to win, which would push his first start to Game 3.
Anything can happen in a five-game series, of course, but it's easy to imagine Rollins, Utley, Howard and Werth plowing through the Redleg pitching and giving the rotation time to reset against the Giants or Braves. With the home field advantage and a late-season pedigree, Philly would be prohibitive favorites against whichever side wins the other series. The Giants have the mound horses to match, but if they've chewed through them in the NLDS, they might not be quite the asset. Citizens Bank is a homer total's best friend, but San Fran doesn't have the punch to take advantage.
As for the Braves, they are largely a Turner Field phenomenon, and that doesn't play well in Philly, particularly on autumn nights. The Phils made up eight games on Atlanta in September for a reason. Rolling out H2O for six of seven games exaggerates the advantage and ameliorates Philly's bullpen weakness.
None of that accounts for injuries, anomalies, rain delays/postponements and simple luck. The race isn't always to the swift nor the battle to the strong. But that's the way to bet.
b
17 December 2009
Pre-thinking Analysis
In the neighborhood in which I grew up, populated by a heterogeneous mix of wise guys, it was a rare occurrence indeed to achieve the completion of any sentence that began with an exceedingly stupid premise.
For example, suppose while analyzing the Phillies' decision to trade for Roy Halladay and jettison Cliff Lee, someone on your street were to note that Cliff Lee was a great "post-season pitcher." The vapidity of this statement could not be overlooked or remain unchallenged. Barely would the speaker have reached his sentence's conjunction than the entire assembly would be riding him verbally for his badly-misfiring neurons. Were he to persist, a noogie, wedgie or purple nurple would be in order.
Evidently, street rules are not in force on sports talk radio. All yesterday my radio spat out the knuckleheaded assertion that Philly was giving up a "great post-season pitcher" for one who had not proven himself, as if this were a viable measurement like team winning percentage or doubles. I kept waiting for someone knowledgeable to interject a polite point of information that, well, "post-season pitcher" is a figment of the host's imagination.
To be sure, Cliff Lee has been a lights-out pitcher in the post-season -- that is, in the FIVE PLAYOFF GAMES he has pitched during his six-year career. He's been a lights-out pitcher for most of the past two seasons, when he's posted ERAs of 2.54 and 3.22. Which proves only the following: Cliff Lee is good.
News flash: Roy Halladay's not too shabby either. You might just say he's the mound king of the junior circuit, or was until joining Johan Santana in the NL. In his 12-year career, Halladay has a 3.43 ERA with three times as many strikeouts as walks. If you want to know what kind of "post-season pitcher" Halladay would be, allow me to give you a preview: if he pitched enough innings, he would have about a 3.43 ERA with three times as many strikeout as walks.
Of course there are other variables in the post-season. It always comes at the end of a 162-game schedule, so players who wear out might have less success in the playoffs. The competition tends to improve, so players who feast on the league's bottom-dwellers and hangers-on would tend to scuffle. The weather begins to turn cold and there are longer layoffs than during the regular season. Probably least of all the differences is the one sports talk hosts weigh most heavily: there is a lot riding on the outcomes of post-season games.
The spotlight cuddles up to some personalities and repels others, but any athlete who has advanced to the Major Leagues has been through hundreds of "critical" games. It's really quite a rare player who "chokes" or "steps up." Mostly, players play, and the vagaries of the game sometimes loom larger when we're paying special attention than when we're not.
I'll probably have something to say about this intriguing array of interlacing trades, but you can be sure it won't have anything to do with who is a good "post-season pitcher."
b
For example, suppose while analyzing the Phillies' decision to trade for Roy Halladay and jettison Cliff Lee, someone on your street were to note that Cliff Lee was a great "post-season pitcher." The vapidity of this statement could not be overlooked or remain unchallenged. Barely would the speaker have reached his sentence's conjunction than the entire assembly would be riding him verbally for his badly-misfiring neurons. Were he to persist, a noogie, wedgie or purple nurple would be in order.
Evidently, street rules are not in force on sports talk radio. All yesterday my radio spat out the knuckleheaded assertion that Philly was giving up a "great post-season pitcher" for one who had not proven himself, as if this were a viable measurement like team winning percentage or doubles. I kept waiting for someone knowledgeable to interject a polite point of information that, well, "post-season pitcher" is a figment of the host's imagination.
To be sure, Cliff Lee has been a lights-out pitcher in the post-season -- that is, in the FIVE PLAYOFF GAMES he has pitched during his six-year career. He's been a lights-out pitcher for most of the past two seasons, when he's posted ERAs of 2.54 and 3.22. Which proves only the following: Cliff Lee is good.
News flash: Roy Halladay's not too shabby either. You might just say he's the mound king of the junior circuit, or was until joining Johan Santana in the NL. In his 12-year career, Halladay has a 3.43 ERA with three times as many strikeouts as walks. If you want to know what kind of "post-season pitcher" Halladay would be, allow me to give you a preview: if he pitched enough innings, he would have about a 3.43 ERA with three times as many strikeout as walks.
Of course there are other variables in the post-season. It always comes at the end of a 162-game schedule, so players who wear out might have less success in the playoffs. The competition tends to improve, so players who feast on the league's bottom-dwellers and hangers-on would tend to scuffle. The weather begins to turn cold and there are longer layoffs than during the regular season. Probably least of all the differences is the one sports talk hosts weigh most heavily: there is a lot riding on the outcomes of post-season games.
The spotlight cuddles up to some personalities and repels others, but any athlete who has advanced to the Major Leagues has been through hundreds of "critical" games. It's really quite a rare player who "chokes" or "steps up." Mostly, players play, and the vagaries of the game sometimes loom larger when we're paying special attention than when we're not.
I'll probably have something to say about this intriguing array of interlacing trades, but you can be sure it won't have anything to do with who is a good "post-season pitcher."
28 October 2009
Are You (World) Serious?
Could baseball have it any more wrong in the playoffs? It's as if Bud Selig were working for the NFL.
They play 2430 games during the regular season, almost all of them in pristine conditions. If it's freezing or raining, they postpone the game.
In the playoffs, when the World Championship is on the line, they play in rain and cold together. They play in insect infestations. What's next, slaying of the first born? Game One of the World Series this year, and Game Three last year, were both mockeries, with fans huddling and players squinting through the elements in their long sleeves. You think steroids corrupted the great history of baseball? How about outfielders running through ponds during the World Series?
In the regular season, teams play six days out of seven. They need at least a four starters, and often five. In the playoffs, when the mettle of the finest clubs are being tested, they alter the game. Scheduling contests every other day -- as if it were yoga class -- creates an advantage for teams with thin staffs. Scheduling four-five-six-day breaks between series simulates -- what? The All-Star break, perhaps. Think how many showers Manny could take.
The one change MLB should make to the playoffs -- schedule East Coast games at 7:00 p.m. -- is the one overlooked. The result is that only the unemployed -- admittedly a growing cohort -- can watch to the end. When fans can't see the conclusions of the most consequential contests of the season, they lose ownership and interest in the sport.
Maybe it's a coincidence that the last good World Series was eight years ago. Maybe it's not. But let's not argue about it in the freezing rain.
b
They play 2430 games during the regular season, almost all of them in pristine conditions. If it's freezing or raining, they postpone the game.
In the playoffs, when the World Championship is on the line, they play in rain and cold together. They play in insect infestations. What's next, slaying of the first born? Game One of the World Series this year, and Game Three last year, were both mockeries, with fans huddling and players squinting through the elements in their long sleeves. You think steroids corrupted the great history of baseball? How about outfielders running through ponds during the World Series?
In the regular season, teams play six days out of seven. They need at least a four starters, and often five. In the playoffs, when the mettle of the finest clubs are being tested, they alter the game. Scheduling contests every other day -- as if it were yoga class -- creates an advantage for teams with thin staffs. Scheduling four-five-six-day breaks between series simulates -- what? The All-Star break, perhaps. Think how many showers Manny could take.
The one change MLB should make to the playoffs -- schedule East Coast games at 7:00 p.m. -- is the one overlooked. The result is that only the unemployed -- admittedly a growing cohort -- can watch to the end. When fans can't see the conclusions of the most consequential contests of the season, they lose ownership and interest in the sport.
Maybe it's a coincidence that the last good World Series was eight years ago. Maybe it's not. But let's not argue about it in the freezing rain.
b
18 October 2009
Blecch!
The NBA and NHL have ruined their sports with meaningless seasons and endless playoffs that have no connection with each other. The NFL has struck the perfect balance, with a regular slate that culls all but the best teams and significantly disadvantages the stragglers among them in the post-season.
Now, if you were baseball, which road would you head down? It appears the game has chosen the road less thought out.
Last night's Yankees-Angels contest was a microcosm of the problem. Two teams that played nearly all of their 162 games in summer conditions met on a mid-October night in New York in conditions more suitable for the Packers. This abomination is made necessary by three rounds of playoffs that push the end of the World Series into November.
And then it got worse. When players are wearing earflaps, sweatshirts and neoprene hoods under their uniforms, that's a sign the game shouldn't be played. Last night, that wasn't even enough: freezing rain fell during innings eight through twelve.
Here's the bitter irony: such horrible conditions would have led to immediate postponement during a meaningless regular season tilt. But when it really counts, MLB lacks the flexibility to wait until another day. So the players and fans are subjected to discomfort, added potential for injury, and the dramatically increased likelihood that the game will be decided by something unrelated to skill, strategy and desire.
We saw this last year, when the Rays and Phillies played two hours of a world championship game in a freezing downpour. If MLB doesn't care about its most important games, it's no wonder that most fans are watching football.
As long as they are powerless to change the calender, MLB mucky-mucks should consider moving all playoff games to the daytime in cool climates. Better yet, reintroduce doubleheaders to shorten the season, eliminate the wild card and one playoff series, and wrap up the World Series by the Ides of October. Because the way things are going now, we're going to have a Rockies-Twins World Series that gets postponed by snow until the following May.
b
Now, if you were baseball, which road would you head down? It appears the game has chosen the road less thought out.
Last night's Yankees-Angels contest was a microcosm of the problem. Two teams that played nearly all of their 162 games in summer conditions met on a mid-October night in New York in conditions more suitable for the Packers. This abomination is made necessary by three rounds of playoffs that push the end of the World Series into November.
And then it got worse. When players are wearing earflaps, sweatshirts and neoprene hoods under their uniforms, that's a sign the game shouldn't be played. Last night, that wasn't even enough: freezing rain fell during innings eight through twelve.
Here's the bitter irony: such horrible conditions would have led to immediate postponement during a meaningless regular season tilt. But when it really counts, MLB lacks the flexibility to wait until another day. So the players and fans are subjected to discomfort, added potential for injury, and the dramatically increased likelihood that the game will be decided by something unrelated to skill, strategy and desire.
We saw this last year, when the Rays and Phillies played two hours of a world championship game in a freezing downpour. If MLB doesn't care about its most important games, it's no wonder that most fans are watching football.
As long as they are powerless to change the calender, MLB mucky-mucks should consider moving all playoff games to the daytime in cool climates. Better yet, reintroduce doubleheaders to shorten the season, eliminate the wild card and one playoff series, and wrap up the World Series by the Ides of October. Because the way things are going now, we're going to have a Rockies-Twins World Series that gets postponed by snow until the following May.
b
13 October 2009
Now THAT Is Baseball Analysis
For eight minutes and 19 seconds this afternoon, I listened to former Major Leaguer Eric Karros explain the baseball playoffs.
On how the Angels could beat the Yankees: "The Angels are not in awe of the Yankees. No one else can say that."
On why the Yankees might win it all: "The Yankees are more real this year. More relaxed. Expectations are the one thing that will slow them down. There's something to be said for that."
On how the Dodgers might overcome their weak finish to the season and make the World Series: "The Dodgers are like the infantry: they keep coming. Each guy plays like he's the 25th man. They're grinders, but they're superstars."
You see, it's this kind of insight that makes world class athletes the best analysts. They know more about the game than other people because they played it.
I'm not an athlete. That's why I have less informed ideas about these questions.
On how the Angels might beat the Yankees: Score more runs than NY. Win four games out of seven. Get good pitching and timely hitting. It'll help if the breaks go the Angels' way. They're more or less equally matched, so the biggest factor will be luck. No one can predict whom that will favor.
On why the Yankees might win it all: Well, they're the best team.
On how the Dodgers might beat the Phillies: Score more runs than Philadelphia. Win four games out of seven. Get good pitching and timely hitting. It'll help if the breaks go L.A.'s way. They're more or less equally matched, so the biggest factor will be luck. No one can predict whom that will favor. Oh, and throw lefties at that lineup. Howard and Utley are death on righthanders.
Look, these series are best-of-seven. Two hot pitchers can win it for you. One bad closer can lose it. The best team has an edge, but the best teams haven't even made the World Series in at least three years. So let's just sit back and enjoy the pennant races and leave the meaningless cliches for highly-compensated former athletes.
b
On how the Angels could beat the Yankees: "The Angels are not in awe of the Yankees. No one else can say that."
On why the Yankees might win it all: "The Yankees are more real this year. More relaxed. Expectations are the one thing that will slow them down. There's something to be said for that."
On how the Dodgers might overcome their weak finish to the season and make the World Series: "The Dodgers are like the infantry: they keep coming. Each guy plays like he's the 25th man. They're grinders, but they're superstars."
You see, it's this kind of insight that makes world class athletes the best analysts. They know more about the game than other people because they played it.
I'm not an athlete. That's why I have less informed ideas about these questions.
On how the Angels might beat the Yankees: Score more runs than NY. Win four games out of seven. Get good pitching and timely hitting. It'll help if the breaks go the Angels' way. They're more or less equally matched, so the biggest factor will be luck. No one can predict whom that will favor.
On why the Yankees might win it all: Well, they're the best team.
On how the Dodgers might beat the Phillies: Score more runs than Philadelphia. Win four games out of seven. Get good pitching and timely hitting. It'll help if the breaks go L.A.'s way. They're more or less equally matched, so the biggest factor will be luck. No one can predict whom that will favor. Oh, and throw lefties at that lineup. Howard and Utley are death on righthanders.
Look, these series are best-of-seven. Two hot pitchers can win it for you. One bad closer can lose it. The best team has an edge, but the best teams haven't even made the World Series in at least three years. So let's just sit back and enjoy the pennant races and leave the meaningless cliches for highly-compensated former athletes.
b
04 October 2009
Snoozing Through Elimination
For the second year in a row, it's coming down to the last day of the season for the Twins...and no one outside of Minnesota and Michigan much cares.
Last year, the Twins and and White Sox needed a 163rd game to settle the AL Central, which the Sox captured in a thrilling 1-0 game, only to be obliterated by Tampa in the first round of the playoffs.
This year, it's the Twins and Tigers knotted after 161 games and possibly headed for seasonal overtime. This should be high drama, but even the one tight race is failing to capture our imagination. The reason is obvious: the victor simply earns the right to become Yankee cannon fodder.
The squad that prevails in this race will stand alone among playoff teams without 90 wins. Moreover, they will sport just the fifth best record in the American League, and arguably occupy just sixth place in team quality, behind Texas, Tampa and the contenders.
Just look at the pitching options facing Jim Leyland and Ron Gardenhire in the critical last days of the season. Gardenhire has sent to the mound Jeff Manship, a rookie with a 5.68 ERA, and Francisco Liriano, who is still recovering from TJ surgery and sporting a 5-13, 5.84 line. Leyland was forced to counter with the likes of rookie Alfredo Figaro, a rookie with 17 inings of experience and a 6.35 ERA, and Eddie Bonine, whose 61 lifetime innings and 4.81 ERA make him the star of the group. You think the Yankees are even scouting these two teams?
On the other hand, the rest of the playoffs could be a doozy. The Rockies won the right to avoid the Cardinals by virtue of their loss to the Dodgers last night. That leaves two first-round NL series -- LA-St. Louis and Colorado-Philly -- that are as wide open as Ozzie Guillen's mouth. The remaining AL series -- Boston-L.A. -- also promises fireworks. It's shaping up to be a fabulous post-season, which, as I've mentioned before, seems to vary inversely with the quality of the regular season.
The Yankees and, to a lesser degree, Cardinals have to be viewed as the favorites, particularly considering the special importance of the top three starters, the closer and experience in the postseason. As someone who finds nothing intriguing about one team dominating the sport by signing all the best free agents, I can think of much more compelling matchups, including any Phillies redux and a freeway series in LA. First though, we have to find out who survives that last elimination game.
b
Last year, the Twins and and White Sox needed a 163rd game to settle the AL Central, which the Sox captured in a thrilling 1-0 game, only to be obliterated by Tampa in the first round of the playoffs.
This year, it's the Twins and Tigers knotted after 161 games and possibly headed for seasonal overtime. This should be high drama, but even the one tight race is failing to capture our imagination. The reason is obvious: the victor simply earns the right to become Yankee cannon fodder.
The squad that prevails in this race will stand alone among playoff teams without 90 wins. Moreover, they will sport just the fifth best record in the American League, and arguably occupy just sixth place in team quality, behind Texas, Tampa and the contenders.
Just look at the pitching options facing Jim Leyland and Ron Gardenhire in the critical last days of the season. Gardenhire has sent to the mound Jeff Manship, a rookie with a 5.68 ERA, and Francisco Liriano, who is still recovering from TJ surgery and sporting a 5-13, 5.84 line. Leyland was forced to counter with the likes of rookie Alfredo Figaro, a rookie with 17 inings of experience and a 6.35 ERA, and Eddie Bonine, whose 61 lifetime innings and 4.81 ERA make him the star of the group. You think the Yankees are even scouting these two teams?
On the other hand, the rest of the playoffs could be a doozy. The Rockies won the right to avoid the Cardinals by virtue of their loss to the Dodgers last night. That leaves two first-round NL series -- LA-St. Louis and Colorado-Philly -- that are as wide open as Ozzie Guillen's mouth. The remaining AL series -- Boston-L.A. -- also promises fireworks. It's shaping up to be a fabulous post-season, which, as I've mentioned before, seems to vary inversely with the quality of the regular season.
The Yankees and, to a lesser degree, Cardinals have to be viewed as the favorites, particularly considering the special importance of the top three starters, the closer and experience in the postseason. As someone who finds nothing intriguing about one team dominating the sport by signing all the best free agents, I can think of much more compelling matchups, including any Phillies redux and a freeway series in LA. First though, we have to find out who survives that last elimination game.
b
25 September 2009
The Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild Card
Woe is us. Peter Gammons has spoken, and when he speaketh, the Lords of Baseball doth listen.
Let's stipulate that Gammons is a great reporter, respected and beloved across the sport and the media. But he has proposed such a terrifically bad idea it has got to be killed, bludgeoned to death with logic. I volunteer with the club.
Gammons, like the rest of Baseball Nation, is underwhelmed by this year's playoff races and disheartened by the way football has shoved the national pastime into the shadows. The result is a jerking of the knee that will expedite the sport's path to irrelevance, not forestall it. He suggests that baseball add yet another playoff round just for the Wild Cards.
Oy. Caramba. Yeesh. Take your pick.
Here's the fundamental misconception people have about playoff races. They think that making more teams eligible for the playoffs increases the number of playoff races. It categorically does not. The race is only around the last qualifying spot, regardless of whether two teams qualify, or 20 teams do.
The real difference is that when only the two best teams qualify, the battle is fierce and the consequences momentous. When 20 teams qualify, the contestants are feeble and the prize is simply a short postponement of their ignominy.
Take this year as an example. There's one wild card race -- in the NL, among Colorado, SF, Atlanta and Florida. Adding another wild card would do nothing in the AL, where Texas is the clear next best team, and nothing in the NL, where Colorado would be a lock and the three teams chasing them would be vying for the next spot. It's a wash.
That doesn't account for the additional downside of the extra playoff round -- putting aside the scheduling headaches involved. A team like the Red Sox, the second or third best team in the league, would be severely disadvantaged, particularly with respect to the significantly inferior Tigers/Twins.
Suppose instead, we returned to the old way -- two divisions, one playoff round per league. The Yankees-Red Sox tilt this weekend would matter (a little). Better yet, the Phillies and Cardinals would be waging holy war for the Eastern Division title, with everything at stake. The victor would be four wins from the World Series; the loser is done. What we have instead is each team, a month before season's end, arranging its playoff roster and hotel room assignments.
There is a direct and inverse relationship between the importance of the regular season and the number of teams in the playoffs. Certainly more playoff slots allows more teams to feel that they can contend, particularly in a sport like baseball where any team can take three of five against another. But when the fifth best team is given a nearly equal chance to claim the title in a handful of games over the first and second best, what was the point of the 162 contests that preceded them?
Does baseball really want to be like the NBA and NHL, where they play 80-game seasons for no apparent reason? In the NBA, 16 teams -- many of them godawful -- make the playoffs, but only four of them have any realistic hope of raising the trophy. In hockey the regular season is so utterly irrelevant that the top regular season team HAS NEVER won the Stanley Cup since they went to the 16-team format.
The Wild Card has added a degree of hope to half the teams in baseball and has detracted a little from the playoffs and World Series. We can live with the tradeoff. Adding lesser teams to the mix adds no more hope, but further cheapens the championship. Bud, this time, don't listen to Gammons.
b
Let's stipulate that Gammons is a great reporter, respected and beloved across the sport and the media. But he has proposed such a terrifically bad idea it has got to be killed, bludgeoned to death with logic. I volunteer with the club.
Gammons, like the rest of Baseball Nation, is underwhelmed by this year's playoff races and disheartened by the way football has shoved the national pastime into the shadows. The result is a jerking of the knee that will expedite the sport's path to irrelevance, not forestall it. He suggests that baseball add yet another playoff round just for the Wild Cards.
Oy. Caramba. Yeesh. Take your pick.
Here's the fundamental misconception people have about playoff races. They think that making more teams eligible for the playoffs increases the number of playoff races. It categorically does not. The race is only around the last qualifying spot, regardless of whether two teams qualify, or 20 teams do.
The real difference is that when only the two best teams qualify, the battle is fierce and the consequences momentous. When 20 teams qualify, the contestants are feeble and the prize is simply a short postponement of their ignominy.
Take this year as an example. There's one wild card race -- in the NL, among Colorado, SF, Atlanta and Florida. Adding another wild card would do nothing in the AL, where Texas is the clear next best team, and nothing in the NL, where Colorado would be a lock and the three teams chasing them would be vying for the next spot. It's a wash.
That doesn't account for the additional downside of the extra playoff round -- putting aside the scheduling headaches involved. A team like the Red Sox, the second or third best team in the league, would be severely disadvantaged, particularly with respect to the significantly inferior Tigers/Twins.
Suppose instead, we returned to the old way -- two divisions, one playoff round per league. The Yankees-Red Sox tilt this weekend would matter (a little). Better yet, the Phillies and Cardinals would be waging holy war for the Eastern Division title, with everything at stake. The victor would be four wins from the World Series; the loser is done. What we have instead is each team, a month before season's end, arranging its playoff roster and hotel room assignments.
There is a direct and inverse relationship between the importance of the regular season and the number of teams in the playoffs. Certainly more playoff slots allows more teams to feel that they can contend, particularly in a sport like baseball where any team can take three of five against another. But when the fifth best team is given a nearly equal chance to claim the title in a handful of games over the first and second best, what was the point of the 162 contests that preceded them?
Does baseball really want to be like the NBA and NHL, where they play 80-game seasons for no apparent reason? In the NBA, 16 teams -- many of them godawful -- make the playoffs, but only four of them have any realistic hope of raising the trophy. In hockey the regular season is so utterly irrelevant that the top regular season team HAS NEVER won the Stanley Cup since they went to the 16-team format.
The Wild Card has added a degree of hope to half the teams in baseball and has detracted a little from the playoffs and World Series. We can live with the tradeoff. Adding lesser teams to the mix adds no more hope, but further cheapens the championship. Bud, this time, don't listen to Gammons.
b
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