Archive for January, 2009

Tek

ESPN has this story about Jason Varitek resigning with the Red Sox. The quote that interests me is this one:

“Friends who spoke with Varitek over the winter say he never understood why the Red Sox wanted to cut his pay, why they were only willing to guarantee his deal for one year, why the economy and his 2008 struggles had cut into his market value or, remarkably, why his decision to decline arbitration was costing him so much money and limiting other teams’ interest.”

I’m really hoping those “friends” were somehow misquoted, because otherwise, Tek might be the dumbest person on Earth. I mean, he already admitted not knowing that when he declined arbitration, any team that signed him had to give up a draft pick. That in and of itself is inexcusable, but you could deflect the blame onto his agent for not explaining all of the details.

This cluelessness borders on criminal negligence. How can you not know why the Red Sox wanted to cut your pay, when you were statistically one of the worst offensive players in Major League Baseball last year, but were making $10 million dollars? How can you not know that the Red Sox, who have an aversion to long-term contracts, wouldn’t want to guarantee more than one year to a 36-year-old catcher who can’t catch up with a decent fastball anymore? How can you not know why other teams don’t want to give you that same guarantee, especially when they have to give up a draft pick to go along with it?

This is like O.J. not knowing why the Goldman family is upset with him, why he’s no longer the spokesman for Avis, why he doesn’t get phone calls from ex-teammates anymore, and why he hasn’t been contacted about appearing in the next “Naked Gun” sequel.

Zero To One-Hundred

I didn’t want to write about this.  I swear I didn’t want to write about this.  Last week this was just a sporting curiosity, but now it’s become a national story.  If you haven’t seen this anywhere yet, the Covenant School defeated Dallas Academy in girls’ basketball by the score of 100-0.  This probably sounds like an absurd score to you, and that’s because it is.  The reason I didn’t want to write about this, is because everything about it should be intuitively obvious to anyone with a modicum of common sense.  The unfortunate truth, however, is that there are people who don’t see anything wrong with a final score of 100-0, or how it was achieved.

I coach youth sports.  I’ve been coaching for more than fifteen years, and I’ve been on both sides of a lot of lopsided victories.  One thing I know is that kids aren’t stupid.  They know when a team is better than they are.  They know when a team is running up the score, and they also know when a team is patronizing them by not trying.  There’s a balance in between than needs to be maintained in this situation, but it’s really not hard to find that balance.

In baseball, you start holding up runners on the bases.  You stop giving steal signs.  You replace your pitcher with someone who needs the work.  You take your starters out of the game.  I’ve even had a coach pull his 3-4-5 hitters out of the game against me, citing “injury”, so that he could put three weaker players who had already been taken out of the game back in.  You’ve got options.

But here’s where the balance comes in: you don’t tell your players to strike out on purpose.  You don’t tell your players to stop running hard.  You don’t tell your players to stop playing defense.  You don’t tell your players to bunt if it’s not part of your normal strategy.  If you do these things, it’s no better than running up the score.

Basketball, admittedly, is a much different sport, and it’s probably more difficult to keep a disparity in talent from showing up in the score book.  Jeff Miller’s piece on ESPN Rise explains that women’s basketball is a sport “particularly susceptible to blowouts”.  You can’t tell your players to stop shooting, and you can’t tell your players to stop playing defense, and you can’t tell your players to stop running.  But there are things you can do.

Various people who were involved with the 100-0 game, both participants and spectators, have mentioned that Covenant kept launching three-pointers even after the game was well in hand.  I don’t really see an issue with that.  While a 3-pointer (obviously) is worth more points than a regular shot, it’s a lower percentage shot, and in my mind it’s probably better to be shooting threes in a blowout than it is to be posting up players in the paint, assuming there’s a shot clock that requires the offensive team to shoot.  What’s not clear from reading the coverage of the game is whether or not Covenant was working the shot clock and firing away only when it was into single digits.  What is clear is that the team was playing a press defense for most of the game, until, as one spectator claims, the team reached 100 points, which is absolutely inexcusable.  By all accounts the Dallas Academy point guard was not very skilled at bringing the ball up the floor, and Covenant’s point guard took advantage of that, stealing the ball away whenever possible.

Covenant’s point guard scored 48 points, in what was described as “Steal and layup. Steal and layup. It was a layup drill.” (which makes me wonder how many threes they were actually taking, if the game was a layup drill).  I’m singling her out only to point out that none of these kids should be singled out.  There is such pressure placed on youth sports in this country, that players will do what their coaches tell them to do or what keeps them on the team, to the detriment of what’s fair and what’s good.  Kids will bean an autistic teammate if their coach tells them to.  Kids will practice until they drop if they’re worried about being cut from a team.  If a coach tells his kid to keep stealing the ball away, that’s what the kid is going to do.  If the coach says “Hey, back off and let her bring the ball up the court,” that’s also what the kid is going to do.  Even better, take a timeout and tell the whole team to drop into zone defense and stop going for steals.

There are a number of differing views about who’s to blame in this game.  Some people think that the opposing coach is at fault, for a variety of ridiculous reasons including not pulling his team off the court at halftime, or not confronting the coach of the other team while the shellacking was taking place.  Others blame the administration from the losing team for scheduling teams that are vastly superior to them (most of these people ignore that the boys’ team from Dallas Academy beat Covenant the last time out), or for even fielding a girls’ team at all when their total female enrollment is only twenty.

All of this is deflecting blame from the coach who pushed his team to not only shut out an opposing team in basketball, but drop 100 points on them in the process.  And there’s no way anyone can possibly defend that.

Jim Ed and Wowee*

This year’s ballots are in, and Jim Rice and Rickey Henderson have been elected to the Baseball Hall Of Fame, Rice on his fifteenth and final time on the ballot, Henderson on his first. There’ll be a lot written about Henderson’s greatness and whether or not Rice deserves to be in the Hall, so I’m not going to bother with either of those. I’m going to touch on something that’s never discussed.

It’s the bottom of the ballot.

Because the following players got the following votes:

  • Mark Grace (22 votes)
  • David Cone (21 votes)
  • Matt Williams (7 votes)
  • Mo Vaughn (6 votes)
  • Jay Bell (2 votes)
  • Jesse Orosco (1 vote)

Personally, I find this trend of voting far more egregious than voting for or not voting for a borderline Hall of Fame candidate (as Rice is generally considered).

Mark Grace won four gold gloves at first base and a ring with Arizona, got on base a lot (.383 OBP), didn’t strike out, and had a little pop in his bat.  He also never had a 200 hit season, never drove in 100 runs in a season, scored 100 runs in a season once, and never finished above 13th in the MVP balloting.

David Cone won a Cy Young Award, several rings with the New York Yankees, made the All-Star team five times, and led the league in strikeouts twice.  He also never won the ERA title, struck out fewer batters than Frank Tanana, and came up short of 200 wins.

It gets much worse from here…

Matt Williams had four seasons with 100 RBIs, won four gold gloves, lead the league in home runs in 1994 (and was on pace to break Roger Maris’ record when the strike ended the season), and made the All-Star team five times.  He also never won an MVP, finished his career with a .317 OBP, and came up short of 400 home runs.

Mo Vaughn won an MVP trophy, made the All-Star team three times, and came a point short of winning the batting title in 1998 (losing it to Bernie Williams).  He also had only nine productive years, hit only 328 home runs, and struck out 1429 times, ranking him in between Jack Clark (who had 1300 more ABs) and Rice (who had 2700 more ABs).

Jay Bell won a ring with Arizona, a gold glove at shortstop in 1993, and had one season where he went 132/38/112 (R/HR/RBI).  He also only appears on the leaderboard for outs and sacrifice hits, batted .265/.343/.416 for his career, and despite that 38 homer season, hit only 195 for his career (without any notable speed or average).

Jesse Orosco was the first person to try Coca-Cola (that’s a joke, although he was the oldest player in baseball for six years).  He won a ring with the Mets in 1986, was a two-time All Star, and is the all time leader in pitching appearances.  He also saved only 144 games over his twenty-four year career, and didn’t compile any meaningful leaderboard statistics.

Aren’t I cherry-picking stats?  What’s the point here?

Yes, I am cherry-picking stats here, but the point I’m making is that while none of these players should ever be embarrassed by their career credentials – they’re certainly better than almost anyone who has ever played the game – none of them deserved even a single Hall Of Fame vote.

In order to put a player to be in the Hall Of Fame, I believe you can’t just make the argument that he belongs in the Hall, but also that he can’t be excluded.  Mark McGwire received 118 votes this year, and on his career alone, he should be in the Hall Of Fame.  But voters still have questions about whether he used illegal performance enhancing drugs or not.  Lee Smith received 240 votes, is third on the all-time saves list (having been passed by Trevor Hoffman and Mariano Rivera, but none of his other numbers are particularly noteworthy, and voters still question the value of closers.

From Grace on down, the negatives vastly outweigh the positives.  For every “Well, hey, he did this…” there are several “Yeah, buts”.

I suppose there’s no reason to get too upset about this.  The balloting process requires players to get at least 5% of the votes cast in order to remain on the ballot, so Grace and the others won’t be on the ballot next year, and the guys in between will likely drift closer to the Hall or closer to being dropped from the ballot.  It’s just unfortunate that some voters clearly don’t take their responsibility seriously.

* From the late 80s commercial wherein an excited boy exclaimed “Wowee, Rickey Henderson!”, earning the enduring scorn of me and all of my friends.

Divisional Weekend

Four Paragraphs About Four Games

Tennessee/Baltimore… yawn. Tennessee’s defense outplayed Baltimore’s, but the Titans turned the ball over three times, at crucial points in the game. I’m still not ready to crown Joe Flacco as anything great, especially since he’s essentially playing the role of Trent Dilfer for this year’s Ravens team. 11-of-22 for 161 isn’t exactly the stuff of legends.

I’m still searching for reasons why the Cardinals are legitimate. The Panthers probably feel like Marshall Van Cleef after being shot by Roy O’Bannon – “How the hell did that happen?” The team that was 3-5 on the road, 3-7 outside of their own division, 2-6 against opponents with winning records, and 0-5 on the East Coast played a team on the road, outside of their own division, with a winning record, on the East Coast, and not only won the game, but thoroughly dominated both sides of the ball. Carolina, who was 8-0 at home, laid maybe the biggest egg in playoff history. If you took the Cardinals +10, you were pretty happy. If you took the Cardinals and the money line, you were even happier.

The New York Giants and Eli Manning were exposed in the early game on Sunday afternoon. The Eagles proved that if you can force the Giants to pass, and you have a decent defense (that, for example, doesn’t leave a 5′9″ corner on an island to cover a 6′5″ Pro Bowler in the last minute of the Super Bowl), Eli Manning can’t beat you. It’s also worth pointing out that when my father can predict what plays you are going to run, and also what the result of running those plays will be, you might want to rethink your fourth down strategy.

OK, I admit I was a little worried when San Diego scored a touchdown two minutes into the late game against Pittsburgh, but a tiny bit of sanity returned to the NFL playoffs when the Steelers took the touchdown as a wakeup call and proceeded to dominate the rest of the game. Early in the third, with the Steelers driving, my dad claimed that if the Steelers scored a touchdown here, “the game [was] over”. When I reminded him that an 11 point lead with a ten minutes left to go in the third isn’t exactly a sure bet, he shot back with “The Chargers haven’t done a thing on offense since that first touchdown pass.” Touché.

How (And How Not) To Get Your Point Across

The Titans were the victims of some poor officiating when the men in stripes failed to call a delay of game penalty on the Ravens during a fourth quarter drive that resulted in a field goal. While the offense is generally allowed an extra second after the play clock hits zero, the time afforded Joe Flacco seemed excessive. Said Tennessee coach Jeff Fisher after the game:

“I’ve always maintained that there’s a human element in the game as far as officiating is concerned. [They're] going to make mistakes; it is part of our game. But this particular mistake was unacceptable. There is no excuse for it, it was a mistake, and it was a costly mistake. It was not the reason we lost the game, but it was a mistake, an error.”

Pay attention to that last sentence: it wasn’t the reason they lost the game. Contrast that with Dwight Freeney’s assessment of the officiating in last week’s Colts-Chargers game:

“Those were the worst [expletive] calls I’ve seen in a long time … To have a game of that magnitude taken out of your hands, it’s just disgusting. It’s not like they made one [expletive] bad call — it’s three calls, in overtime … They need to start investigating some other [expletive].”

Freeney was fined $20,000 for his comments, which is the equivalent of you and I being fined one item off the Extra Value Menu at Wendy’s. Frankly, the trend of blaming something other than on-field performance for a loss is getting old hat. Joey Porter claimed that the only reason why the Patriots beat the Steelers while he was there (note: this happened multiple times) was because the Patriots were cheating. This was sort of a common them among football players after the so-called SpyGate Incident (in which it was revealed that every NFL team cheats, but only one got caught). It continued even after SpyGate, as Porter insinuated that the Patriots had found another way to cheat in going 16-0 (but didn’t give an explanation as to why a team that cheated to go 16-0 could lose the Super Bowl), and the Baltimore Ravens chalked up their regular season loss to the Patriots in 2007 as a conspiracy on the part of the league to keep the Patriots undefeated.

It’s OK to criticize officiating – it’s seldom perfect. But it’s almost never the reason why one team loses and the other team wins.

Stupid Challenge #1

It’s pretty clear that coaches still have no idea when a challenge is prudent and when it’s a dumb idea. Both Tom Coughlin and Norv Turner turned in dumb challenges yesterday.

Coughlin’s challenge came with 13:03 left in the game. The Giants, trailing 20-11 and in need of two scores, came up short on 3rd-and-3 and decided to challenge the spot of the ball. This would have made sense had it been a fourth down play, with the Giants turning the ball over on downs. But it was third down, and everyone in the stadium knew that if the challenge failed, the Giants would go for it on fourth down.

The Giants lost the challenge, tried a quarterback sneak on fourth down, and Manning got stuffed (oddly enough, Coughlin didn’t challenge the spot this time around). To add insult to injury, the failed challenge cost New York its second timeout, leaving the Giants with one timeout left, without the ball, and still needing two scores.

Stupid Challenge #2

Norv Turner made a similar challenge under even dumber circumstances. Coughlin’s decision at least had some desperation behind it. Turner challenged a spot with 13:42 left in the second quarter with the score tied 7-7. The ruling was upheld, and the Chargers lost a timeout. It was only their first of the half, so it was no big deal, right? Wrong. The Steelers duped the Chargers into taking their second timeout by pretending to go for it on fourth down, and then San Diego was docked their final timeout when Shaun Phillips was injured during a Steeler drive near the end of the half. When San Diego got the ball back with :40 on the clock, they had no timeouts to work with, and had to retreat to the locker room down three at the half.

San Diego’s only play of the third quarter resulted in an interception, and Turner made a wise decision in challenging the play, because it wasn’t clear whether it was an interception or an incompletion (in fact, the replay was probably ruled an interception only because that was the call on the field). It was a good time to challenge, but he lost it, and because of the boneheaded challenge in the second quarter, the Chargers lost the ability to challenge for the remainder of the game.

In retrospect, maybe that was a good thing.

And Finally…

In case you haven’t heard… the Arizona Cardinals will be hosting the NFC Championship game.

The key quote from Mark Teixeira’s press conference

Mark Teixeira was introduced as a Yankee the other day in a tremendous dog-and-pony show at the new stadium. He said a lot, and if want to hear another athlete trying to explain how it isn’t about the money, you can find the video on ESPN or CNNSI or any one of a number of other sites. If you want the key quote from Teixeira himself, here it is.

“I was very impressed with Cash”

Taken out of context? Yeah. Unfairly? Nope.

Sudden Death (of excitement)

A few years ago, the subject of changing the overtime rules came up in the Competition Committee, and it was shot down.  Here’s what Bill Polian had to say about the current overtime rules:

“The current system presents a tremendous reward or risk. That’s something that adds a lot of excitement to the game.”

Bill Polian’s a smart guy.  He drafts good players.  He convinced the NFL to change the rules on pass interference so that this team could win the Super Bowl.  So it makes me wonder why he’d say something of such abject stupidity.

NFL overtime is easily the most boring of the three major American sports, because sudden death only makes sense when possession is fluid and scoring is difficult.  That’s why it works in soccer, and that’s why it works in hockey.  That’s also why it doesn’t work in baseball or basketball.

Imagine if basketball changed its overtime rules.  Imagine that a coin flip determined which team got to take the ball out-of-bounds to start the period.  The first team to score in any way, even on a free throw, would automatically win the game.  That free throw would probably be pretty damned exciting, but it would leave a really sour taste in the mouths of both team’s fans, because that’s not the way to decide who wins a basketball game.

The NFL works the same way.  Earlier this season, the Jets and Patriots slugged it out for sixty full minutes.  The Jets stormed ahead early.  The Patriots battled back and tied it.  Again the Jets jumped ahead, and tried to run the clock out, but the Patriots held on defense, got the ball back with just over a minute left, and then scored with one second left, as Matt Cassel hit a falling Randy Moss on the sideline of the end zone, and the ensuing extra point tied the game and sent it to overtime.  From the start of regulation to the end of regulation, the game was exciting.

In the overtime, the Jets won the coin toss, played ball control, opting for runs and safe, short passes downfield, got into field goal range, ran the ball up the middle until they fourth down, then asked Jay Feely to kick a chip-shot field goal to win it for them.  Boring. If you were a Patriots fan, all you could hope for was a fumble at some point, or a shank on the field goal.  But more importantly, if you were a Jets fan, you were excited that the Jets won, but you couldn’t be excited about the way that they won it.

This past week saw a playoff game decided by a coin flip.  Costly turnovers found the Chargers behind late, but good defense and an outstanding performance by their punter kept them close enough to tie the game with a late field goal and set up sudden death overtime.  The Chargers won the coin toss, started at their own 25, and completed a drive that ended in a Darren Sproles touchdown, and included 25 yards of Colts penalties.  That’s right, without any help, the Chargers were given half the length of the field for position, which meant they only had to gain twenty yards on their own to be in field goal range.  It just so happens that Sproles busted a long run to end the game.

Tony Dungy has been a proponent of the sudden death system, claiming that if you lose the coin toss, you still get a chance to get the ball back by playing good defense.  And that’s true.  You get the ball back if you play good defense.  But for whatever reason, nobody does.

To this point in the NFL season, there have been fifteen overtime games that did not end in a tie (the now-infamous Philadelphia-Cincinnati game).  The team that won the coin toss won the game eleven out of fifteen times (73%).  Eight out of fifteen times (53%), the team that lost the coin toss never had an offensive possession.  Think about that.  More than half the time you lose the coin toss, you never even have a chance to score, and your odds of winning are about 1-in-4.  How is this fair to anyone?

It’s clearly unfair to the team that loses the flip.  You could argue that it’s also unfair to the team that wins the flip, because they have to hear about how they won because of the flip.  And it’s unfair to the fans when twelve of the fifteen games ends in a field goal.  Fans pay to see football games decided by football, not by coin flips.