World Series Scouts and Stats

I hope the fundamentalist seamheads have been watching the playoffs and World Series. The results have been the perfect elixir for SABR  arrogance. At the same time, every game watched by ordinary fans further burnishes sabermetric credentials.

For one thing, several of the series have been almost entirely determined by defense. One could make a good case -- to which I would subscribe -- that the key difference in the NLCS was defensive. The Brewers were sloppy and sluggish in the field; the Cardinals were crisp. Although little of that was captured in the ordinary defensive statistics, not much more could be with the newest wave of defensive measurements, which really require large samples to mean anything.

In the World Series, the winner of each one-run game was the superior defensive squad. In Game One, Albert Pujols and Chris Carpenter took hits away from Ranger batters while Nelson Cruz slid in exactly the worst way and allowed the winning hit to drop. By dropping to the ground legs first he put his glove the longest distance from the ball and failed to catch it. Had he dived, or perhaps even just reached down, he would have at least reached the ball.

In Game Two, the double play combo of Ian Kinsler and Elvis Andrus slickly quenched a couple of Cardinal rallies before the Rangers finally put their own shrimp on the barbie, with help from Prince Albert's mild mishandling of an outfield throw. Pujols was charged with an error hours after the game's conclusion, but only because it could be understood retrospectively to have aided in the winning run scoring one batter later. It's doubtful that an error would have been charged in a regular season game. Likewise, there is no sabermetric measurement of how the play unfolded, with Elvis Andrus scooting to second on a single that put Ian Kinsler on third with none out and set the stage for a couple of flies to right winning the game.

Much has been made of Tony LaRussa's endless machinations in these games, simultaneously crediting him with genius and blaming him for losses. In fact, LaRussa deserves neither, though he's a lot closer to the former. Specifically, many are wondering why he replaced closer Jason Motte in the ninth inning of Game 2 with antediluvian reliever Arthur Rhodes. The LOOGY Rhodes came in to face lefty Josh Hamilton who swatted the game-tying sac fly. Rhodes came out in favor of Lance Lynn, who "allowed" Michael Young's game winning flyout.

Without going into the details of the move, which seemed perfectly justified to me, judging a managerial decision by its outcome is folly. If we knew the outcomes of our decisions in advance, we'd always make the right one, except perhaps if we're Lindsay Lohan. Instead, it's the skipper's job to improve the odds of his team winning, not to certainty, and often, not even to 50%. It's easy to forget that with second and third and no one out, the average run expectancy is . . . two runs.  (That is, sometimes the pitcher will lock down, sometimes he'll limit the opposition to one run, sometimes both runners will score and sometimes more runners will get on base and add to the total that inning. On average, the offense plated 1.8926 runners in 2011.) So LaRussa was facing long odds no matter what he did in that situation. Whatever the stats say about how Jason Motte, Arthur Rhodes and Lance Lynn have performed in the past, LaRussa is paid to know more than we do about how they might perform in that moment.

Ron Washington faced the same Game One critique for ordering a free pass to Nick Punto with a runner in scoring position and two outs, in order to bring the pitcher to the plate. Punto is a .249/.325/.327 lifetime hitter unlikely to plate Lance Berkman from second, so the walk could be seen as "wasting" Chris Carpenter's at bat. (Carp fanned fecklessly for the third out.) Again, Wash is paid to know his players, and the opposition's too. Perhaps Punto's .292/.388/.421 this year gave Washington sufficient pause to sacrifice the free out that Carpenter would have represented in the next inning.

One thing a seamhead could tell you is why Nelson Cruz crushed Tiger pitching and can't buy a hit in the Series. Cruz is a fastball hitter; turning around Justin Verlander's 100 mph offering is like kicking puppies for him. But St. Louis starters mix it up more, which is less to Cruz's liking. The Cardinals also seem to have a feel for Josh Hamilton's groin (groan!); he's clearly been unable to chase pitches away, particularly in hockey weather, so that has been where Cardinal hurlers been going with him.

We'll see if things change after a day of rest and and a trip south to Texas. The bottom line so far has been a clear indication of why teams need scouts and stats and why managers and general managers have to know the strengths and weaknesses of both.

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Sacrificing...the Game

If the Cardinals miss out on the playoffs by one game, they can look back on August 14th and smack themselves in the head. On that date, they dropped a 3-2 decision to the scuffling Cubs for which they have one bad decision to blame.

Up by that score in the ninth, the overpaid Second City contingent worked its special roar-from-ahead magic. On a leadoff grounder to third, Aramis Ramirez fired the ball into Illinois, allowing pinch hitter Aaron Miles to occupy second base.

At this point, with a runner on second and none out, an average team with average offensive contributors can be expected to score 1.165 runs, with the baserunner scoring 63% of the time. But the next batter, Brendan Ryan, is no average hitter. He brings a lifetime .318 OBP to the plate, tilted heavily towards a .277 OBP this year. So the Cardinals' managerial staff -- Tony LaRussa is serving a suspension -- orders up a bunt.

If Ryan successfully executes the bunt, he trades one of the team's three remaining outs for an opportunity to move Miles within 90 feet of the plate and a tie game. That would increase the odds of scoring to by two percentage points, but reduce the likelihood that any more runs score by a similar margin. Since the Cards can't win until they tie, and they are more likely to win than lose in extra innings, they're willing to trade the possibility of a second run scoring for more certainty about recording the first run.

Still with me?

There's one more factor to consider. Anyone with Internet access can easily discern that Brendan Ryan is a below-average Major League hitter. But unless you're a die-hard Redbird fan, you probably can't parse out his bunting abilities. His hitting coach, on the other hand, should have known exactly how skilled Ryan is with the sacrifice, and never allowed him to square away.

Ryan never laid down a bunt. He laid two of them up. The first one popped foul along the first base line, in and out of Koyie Hill's glove. Hill caught the second one in front of the plate. Watching Ryan, it was easy to see why his attempts went awry. On both plays, he tipped the bat up, leading inevitably to an airborne result. In other words, Brendan Ryan is as adept at the sacrifice as a Hummer driver.

The game ended with Miles still anchored to second and Albert Pujols waiting for his turn on deck. Had the squandered out been put to more productive use, Prince Albert might have been taking his licks with the run already in, or awaiting deliverance from the best player on Earth.

Bunting is a strategy, and like any strategy, we can assess exactly when the odds favor it. Using both scouting and stats in this case should have alerted the coaches against bunting and into some other tactic, like attempting to hit to the right side, or pinch hitting for the shortstop. The wrong decision cost St. Louis the game.

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