Stats vs. Aesthetics: How do you watch a game?

Baseball-reference.com is an incredible site for baseball junkies like myself. It has every stat of every player who has ever played the game for any stretch of time, including minor leaguers. Fangraphs and Baseball Prospectus have similar type-sites that list all sorts of advanced metrics. Every time you visit one of these sites there seems to be a new number to describe a player. It’s great. Gone are the days when the best ways to evaluate a player were with batting average, home runs, and runs batted in. They only tell a small part of the story on a player. Better stats are out there that I have come to embrace as being a greater indicator of a player’s value, on-base percentage, on-base-plus slugging (OPS), OPS +, and WAR are all great indicators of a players value to their team. They aren’t perfect but they are helpful to those of us who like to compare players of today with players from the past.

There are a plethora of other stats that help to complete the picture, as statisticians and baseball talent evaluators continue to look at ways in which to determine player value. Defensive metrics seem to be flawed to a degree and require a large sampling over time. With defense it helps to actually watch the games. Which brings me to the essential point of this post. Baseball has always been a statistically driven game because of its nature as a largely, individualized team sport, if that makes sense. A baseball player’s stats at the end of the year are largely a reflection of their own individual contribution to its team, with the notable exception of RBI’s, but even that has an individualized component. You can look at a player’s numbers at the end of the year and determine, for the most part, how their season turned out. But, you still need to watch the game to appreciate the value of a player. Stats can show that you had a lot of assists from the outfield. But does that mean you have an accurate arm, an accurate and strong arm? Or do teams test you because they haven’t seen you enough? Stats cannot show how smooth a player looks when he turns the double play or how he glides to cover balls in the outfield. It does not tell you how sharp a guy’s curveball is, or how filthy that sinker that he throws. You have to watch the game to truly appreciate what each player brings to the field and how they contribute to the teams’ success. Sometimes I fall into the trap of just looking at what certain numbers say and not the aesthetic things.

There are just so many stats out there and you don’t get to see every player, so if you are into comparing players on different teams, sometimes stats are the best way to go. When it comes to players who played long before I was born, stats are the only way to go cause obviously I never got to see them play. This is where the stories from players who played the game back then are so important to help quantify how good some of the players of the past were. Stories from relatives and old family friends are a key ingredient to baseball’s past, sharing stories of a time where baseball was the America’s past time. One day I hope to be able to share stories of how good players such as Chipper Jones, Albert Pujols, or Derek Jeter to future generations who never got to see them play. Numbers cannot show you how sweet the swing of Adrian Gonzalez is, or the opposite field power that Ryan Howard shows. It doesn’t tell you how Ichiro can throw a guy out at 3^rd from the warning track in right field. Stats don’t tell you how good the 2-seam fastball of Greg Maddux was or how intimidating Randy Johnson was out on the mound. J.D. Drew is a classic example of a guy who has good peripheral numbers, solid OPS, decent batting average, but he’s just missing the “it” factor.

When I first listen to a song, I am not trying to break down the lyrics and find out what the meaning of the song is. I am listening to the rhythm and the beats and then I check the lyrics afterwards if I am still interested. I don’t try and do both. This concept applies to my sports viewing where sometimes I consume stats too much and don’t appreciate the feel and the pure athletic beauty that the game provides to us. I have found the most enjoyment when I forego the statistical approach and just watch for the sake of watching. Watch for that beauty because stats don’t say at all. 

Long and Winding Road Part III

The light creeped into the room. The alarm clock had been pulled the night before in order to charge up a phone. The A/C in the room was doing its job but making a lot of noise doing so. At this point the time was unknown, by me at least. I had no idea if it was 9am or 2 in the afternoon. After a quick check of the phone realized it was 10am, or approximately that time. My mind was still foggy from the night before. 6 hours of not-so-quality sleep does not put me in the most pleasant of moods as I am sure this would apply to just about anyone. So minimal words were spoken, a few grunts were made, and a couple of showers were taken. A knock came on the door, not shortly after the 2nd shower had been completed. Our two companions from the other room were there to greet with their fair share of what I will call "mimics" of LMC legends from the past.

It was beach day. Our stomachs were growling so we headed out the door and piled into my little Corolla. Which is barely big enough for 3 adults, but 5 were crammed in there on our way to Folly Beach. After a few missed turns, a trip to Wal-Mart, and trying to find somewhere to park (this is important to remember for the future). As you would expect on a major holiday weekend, it was pretty crowded. We found a "clutch" food and drink stand and scarfed down our first meal of the day. The time was around 11:30am but I cannot be sure of this as I had no time piece available and really was not concerning myself with time on this trip. After this, we gathered our gear and located a spot on the sand. Lotions were applied and a trip into the water was in hand. Although I should note that one particular person, I won't mention his name, had to wait a few extra minutes to make sure his lotion had set in before he headed into the water. A soul of caution this lad was and is. We proceeded over the next few hours to hang out in the water, which was a perfect temperature, take a stroll across the beach doing some babe watching if you will, drink some canned beverages and just hang out enjoying each others company. After awhile some dark clouds began to gather and we headed on back to the car. I discovered a yellow ticket on my windshield. A parking violation. Unbeknownst to us all, you are not allowed to have any part of your vehicle hanging out on the road. I had pulled over on a side street and had left 2 wheels on the road. A road that couldn't have been well traveled, but thats neither here nor there. The fine was paid and we were on our way back to North Charleston to clean up and ready ourselves for the nights events.

After everyone had showered and napped (our room of 3 for that matter). Our stomachs growling let us know that it was time to eat again. After a long wait we piled into this lime green cab. And when I say piled in I mean literally we had 4 guys crammed into a made for 3 seat back seat (probably illegal). We had to pull over to a nearby gas station as our cab had smoke coming from its engine. Not sketchy in the least bit. So after about 20 minutes or so we were on our way. The cab driver decided it was a good idea to try and talk on his phone, place a dispatch and try to put one hand on the steering wheel, all the while driving 70 mph on the interstate. Not sketchy at all. We arrived in Charleston and walked over to Wild Wings to settle in for dinner.  The place we visited the night before that took it awhile for people to recall that it was indeed the last place we had been. After heartily shoving down some quality greasy food. We decided to walk it off for about an hour through the various streets in the city. After about an hour of continuous walking we settled down at last nights drinking establishment. A cover band was playing, finishing up their set as another band was set to arrive not shortly after. The mood had continued to be positive as we settled in at a table close to where the band was playing. It was a small bar. Minimal lighting with some candles set up at all the tables for effect. It was a cool place. I liked it and I think everyone else did as well as we settled in for what would be about a 5 hour stay. The second played a lot of quality songs, bouncing around various genres and decades of music. They played a fair amount from the 90's as I recall. I remember singing along to plenty but my memory fails me at this moment to the specifics of the songs. I remember being happily content and satisfied, other than having to wait 30 minutes in between drinks. The laughs were plentiful that evening. As were the trips to the bathroom (where the handle stopped working and thus wouldn't flush), long-legged scantily clad females, and the amount of numbers seen on the tabs at the end of the night. After awhile our table would rarely see all 5 people at it once as people be up for various reasons, getting fresh air, going to the bathroom, whatever the case may be. The band continued to play up until the last call. It was noted by several compatriots that some of the speciality beverages were light on substance, if you know what I mean. I stuck with my traditional drink. For those that know me you know what this is.

After last call was made and we ventured out onto the streets. The easy decision was made to hop into an ever-growing line outside the pizza joint that "Texas" and I had ventured to the night before. The line was a little longer, but moved pretty quickly as customers shuffled past us, pizza in hand. Somehow it ended up that a big round of applause was to be given to anyone who came out with a whole pizza box. This was done several times as pizza flowed out of this local establishment. After awhile the food was consumed and out we went back into the streets in search of a cab. It was widely agreed upon that riding in the lime taxi was not going to be an option. "Fedora" made some calls but to no avail. Turns out a majority of taxi cab services in Charleston are private and have to be called in ahead of time. We did this but were not picked up initially. The call was placed again and we were told that it would be 15 minutes. It was probably 2:45 am at this point. We had been waiting a solid 30 minutes for a cab to come pick us up. Not shortly after the last call was placed, we hitched a ride with this taxi cab van along with 2 others with whom we had no association with and needed a ride to a different hotel in downtown Charleston. After they were dropped off, we headed on back. A 2nd and final night completed.

When it came down to it. The decision to go to Charleston, SC was not really a difficult one. We all put aside any travel difficulty and costs and made this trip happen. It was a memorable trip filled with many laughs and new memories that will last a long time. You do not know when you will have the opportunity to do things such as this so you take advantage of them when you can. You try your darnedest to organize things like this and make every effort to get there. You forego the animosity and you become care free.

This was a successful RALLY and one I hope to duplicate soon.

MB

Long and Winding Road Part II

I was the first to arrive. If I had been anxious or stressed out this could have bothered and in the past in probably would have. You see there were 2 rooms reserved in our "lovely" hotel. None of the two were reserved by me as I had to not committed to this trip until about 10 days prior. So I made a call and got a status report. Two of the attendees were a good 2-3 hours out, one of which had a room in his name. The other room reservee was in plane somewhere between Texas and South Carolina not set to arrive until the 6 o'clock hour. Keep in mind it was just past 4. So after taking care of my bladder and finding something to assuage my hunger I began a text in search of the only other guy who was in the Charleston area. A man I had gotten to know over a 3 year period and whom I had not seen since the Fall of 2008 when he graced us with his presence at a cross country race in this very city in which we were about to embark upon. As if by osmosis, the phone began to ring. I waited a few rings as I had just finished purchasing some food. I picked it up as I walked out the door. To make a long story short, he had turned in his rental car earlier that day and had been stuck at the airport since before noon. He needed a ride. I hesitated only slightly as I had just finished a 500 mile drive not but 20 minutes earlier. What else was I going to do? Sit in the hotel lobby to myself for 3 hours. So I hopped in the car again and drove the short distance over to the airport. As drove slowly through the terminal area I pulled over to the side. Thinking that I had found my man. It was not to be so. Just another bearded young fellow with short black hair. I eventually found my guy and we preceded away. The conversation began with pleasantries and just catching up on our current statuses. Reminiscing soon followed and stories began on all the guys that had passed out way over the years we shared together on the LMC campus. If you weren't there at LMC for these people than it will mean little to you, but if you were there even if for a few short months. These people will be etched inside your minds for eternity. Quirky does not even begin to describe the people we encountered while on the mountainous campus. Any story that was retold to the maximum degree and even when you thought you had heard it all. A new plot line (usually not completely true but entirely plausible ones) would be developed and the conversations would continue. Mimicking others for whom we had known and imagining the things that they would say. No one was off limits in this, especially those that were not part of our party of 5.

We arrived back at the hotel. It was 5 o'clock. We meandered over to the hotel lobby and plopped down into a couple of chairs and continued the conversation, making up for lost time. It was said at some point by some body that it was good to see that nobody had really changed that much in 3 years and how that was a good thing. I couldn't have agreed with that more. It is nice to know that how ever much the world changes around you that some of your closest friends are still as you remember them. About an hour and a half had passed when we got the message that "Texas" had arrived in South Carolina and was awaiting a four wheeled vehicle to come pick him up. We confirmed with our North Carolina travelers of their ETA and made the decision to go get "Texas," as they were still a good 30 minutes out. So back to the airport I went. This time the company was doubled with a man we will call "Fedora." As he was sporting a sweet hat of that style that he had purchased while visiting one of our old compadres on the Left Coast. We found our companion and the party had reached 60% attendance. More stories were swapped and the voice mimicking reached new heights as we proceeded back to the hotel. The laughs were coming in more frequent intervals now as I listened and laughed as my 2 passengers battled each other to see who could make the others laugh more. We arrived at the hotel at the exact same time as the North Carolina duo. More voice mimicking occurred and the oneupsmanship of how crazy the mimics could get would only escalate as the night was beginning. It was 7pm.

After the rooms were divided up. We decided to get a bite to eat at a fine local establishment. You know the ones where you order your food and you have it 2 minutes later with halfway cooked cheese and pickles when you say you wanted just cheese on your burger. Yeah that kinda place. The greasy quality of the food started to settled into our stomachs as the reminiscing continued. Greasy food would be a continuous theme over the next 36 hours. We made a stop at a nearby gas station to pick up "supplies." And headed back to the hotel to begin the nights festivities. Every one was in a good mood and ready to party. Some were a little more cautious in nature, but no one was spoiling anyone elses fun. It had been so long since we all had been together. I think we all came to an unspoken agreement to have as much fun as possible and put all current/past issues behind us. The mood was light and festive as the "games" began. After a couple hours and many trips to the bathroom. The decision was made to venture into the city. The wise decision was made to call a cab/van/taxi to come pick us up as it was a good 15 minutes to drive. After a few minutes, a van had arrived and we piled in. The van windows were cracked open, allowing a nice cool breeze to be blown in. I couldn't tell you what time we rolled out onto the streets of Charleston and at this point I couldn't care less. We walked along Meeting St. in search of a place to settle in and have a good time. The first place we stopped at asked for a small cover fee and we quickly turned that down and preceded next door to a place that was free of charge and had some sweet music pouring out onto the street. Easy choice. We strolled in and took a seat at a table not far from where the band was playing and placed our orders with the server. After everyone had placed their orders. "Specialty" drinks were ordered. You know the ones you consume in about 0.3 seconds. Yeah those drinks. The band continued to play. Mixing in some old school stuff that really got me excited and pumped for the evening. After awhile, more rounds were consumed, the trips to the bathroom became more frequent, and more "specialty" drinks were ordered ending with one that would put hair on your chest and tasted a little like animal urine only if animal urine burned like you know what and made your stomach turned inside out. Heck may be thats what animal piss does anyways. Point is, is that it was gross and a good one to end the night on. At this point, details started to become hazy. I remember picking up the bill for my portion of the rounds, that rent in Charleston was $700, and that it was time to move to a different location. So we walked across the street to a place where the other guys had landed. Turns out we ate at this place the next night for dinner. I say turns out because like I said details were hazy on this night at the memory recall was slow to react upon things. After we hung around for what was probably half an hour. "Texas" and I discovered a local pizza joint that was serving massive pizza by the slice as well as whole pizzas if you so desired. I recalled a tip from my dear ole mother from the other night where she told me that after consuming "drinks" that it is a wise idea to put some food in the stomach. I was happy to oblige this, and was well aware of this tip, and stood in line for a few minutes to grab a slice. Side note: what a genius idea placing a pizza parlor right next to all the bars and staying open to all hours of the note to feed the bar patrons as they close down for the evening. I consumed most of the ginormous pepperoni slice as "Fedora" called our cab and we headed back to North Charleston.

As 3 out of our 5 compadres did not get the pizza. They decided that it was a good idea to go to the Waffle House which was just across the street from our hotel. At this point I was probably more tired than anything else as I had been up for about 20 hours or so at this point. I ordered a glass of water as the others waited on and then consumed their food. I, intermittently would put my head down trying desperately to catch some much needed zzz's. After awhile, too long for a fast food type of diner, we strolled back across the street and crawled into our beds. One night complete in Charleston with more in store the following night.

Day 2 in Charleston will be brought to you in a 3rd and final segment as again I have spared no expense on the details of this trip.