Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Just Win (and Have Your Team Lose), Baby!

W. Ross Clites
Your City Sports-Cleveland


Saint Louis, MISSOURI--At the end of the day, the biggest push back I received from my "Mike Trout for MVP" campaign centered on the indisputable fact that Miguel Cabrera led his team to the World Series and Trout did not even make the playoffs. While I will not dwell on this debate, nor carry it over to this article, it is the fundamental basis of this piece. 

Playoff appearances are so vital to that award and yet so trivial to others, primarily the Cy Young Award. I want to investigate why that is and if it needs to change.

Recent history has shown that pitching for a successful team is not a prerequisite for postseason awards. Since 1995--when making the playoffs got "easier"--actually doing so seemingly became antiquated. Ironically, you are now better served to miss the current expanded playoffs in order to be labeled the game's best pitcher. Is this a coincidence? Have we unknowingly created a new stat: the conditional win, which overemphasizes (and rewards) individual wins on a garbage team?

David Price of the Tampa Bay Rays and R.A. Dickey of the New York Mets were just named the 2012 winners of their respective league's Cy Young Awards. This mirrors what I projected using Pitcher Rating, meaning both are also taking home the (still fictitious) Walter "Big Train" Johnson Award. The latter award is strictly objective; the result of a complicated formula that does not take team record into effect whatsoever. The pitchers involved have a full season to put in the work. Come October 4, 2012, the numbers are what the numbers are. I take the pitcher in each league with the highest value... end of story.

Meanwhile in crazy land, the Cy Young is still voted on by the Baseball Writers' Association of America (BBWAA). This annual process had me assuming Justin Verlander of the Detroit Tigers would capture the AL award. Human instinct remembers the most recent performance and values the eye test. The show that Verlander put on in the 2012 postseason was unworldly. He was everything an ace should be, and looked the part of the game's best pitcher.

But the playoffs always have been, and always should be, discounted from the Cy Young equation. Easier said than done. Unless a writer's ballot was cast before Game 1 of the Division Series, the greatness of Verlander had to be fresher in the mind.

My assumptions were surprisingly wrong. The BBWAA got it "right." In the tightest vote since 1969, by a margin of only 4 points (or the repositioning of a single first-place vote), Price won the award. Whereas I should be happy, I am actually the complete opposite. This is because I am a contemporary BBWAA contrarian. Writers are making it harder to oppose what they stand for--and vote for--when their credentials are a roaming target. 

Just when I thought I had the BBWAA figured out, I am now left wondering--along with all Detroit fans, and most educated baseball fans--why it wasn't Verlander. In an even two-man race, he had the upper hand in WHIP, strikeouts, innings pitched, complete games. You know, everything recent votes have shown the writers value. It should have been (and thus should not have been) Justin Verlander with the Cy Young. How can I argue against it when they pull a statistical 180? They are "getting it wrong" all wrong.

Is this not the same BBWAA that voted for Felix Hernandez and his 13 wins two seasons ago? They are the reason I set out to make an objective, statistically-based postseason award in the first place. It seems that each year what Cy Young voters value changes. Notify the press, wins are back in vogue in 2012. 

Perhaps the writers understood how hypocritical it would be to award Miguel Cabrera the MVP and Justin Verlander the Cy Young. You cannot have the offensive Triple Crown stats carry an MVP candidacy, while the pitching equivalent is overlooked. A voter that says WAR and Runs Saved are not applicable in postseason awards cannot come back at me with WHIP or Run Support. Plus, wins and RBIs are equally dependent on extrinsic factors, mainly the quality of the team around the player. So, I see a situation where votes were backed into a corner. If they wanted Cabrera's RBI supremacy to have merit, they begrudgingly had to give Price's 20 wins their due.
    
Forget Obama/Biden vs. Romeny/Ryan, 2012 was a baseball fan's ultimate showdown. The American League Cy Young and MVP votes were a statistical crossroads. The Cabrera/Price ticket spoke to the old guard, where batting average and wins both maintain meaning. The Trout/Verlander camp was a sleek machine of sabermetrics, where hitting .400 means a player had an atrocious season (using OPS standards) and a pitcher's win-loss record has been eliminated from the baseball vocabulary.

I, for one, will admit I have been talking out of both sides of my mouth--pulling for Price and Trout. I admit it because I see the day when the Jumbrotron at a Major League stadium displays the lineup of a team with Player Name, Number, Position, and OPS (not batting average). But I cannot allow myself to envision a future where pitchers--warming up in the bullpen--do not have their win-loss record displayed. 

It would be nice if the BBWAA followed suit and admitted double-dealing. All we ask is that they share their vision of the future of the sport they care so much about. Pull back the curtain and let the fans see what the rules of the game are. It sure feels like writers wanted Cabrera and Verlander, but could not pull the trigger. If that is true, say so. Help us better understand the process, instead of releasing the voting results (in a zero explanation, take-it-or-leave-it fashion) and disappearing until the Winter Meetings. 

Like Congress, baseball fans must work across the ropes, figure out what standards they want, and demand it of the writers. Taking the guess work out of the vote begins with a simple survey. What consensus statistics do we value the most? The BBWAA will never come out and tell the general public what things they look for, so we either need to lead them to water or change the entire secret-vote process. 

To show you how far we are divided on these issues, I brought in the opinion of a friend--currently working for the St. Louis Cardinals. He recently wrote to me "if we didn't have the wins stat now, and somebody proposed it as a new idea, most people would think it was useless." The unfortunate thing is I agree with his assessment. I do not agree with the stat's fall from grace, but I certainly cannot argue the statement's validity.

I want to use wins, both by a pitcher and their respective team, to dive deeper into the comparison of Cy Young past vs. Cy Young present. After all, we have to see how we got here before we can plan a course of where to go. Let's start by looking at the team these players pitch for.  

Why team wins mean nothing to modern pitching awards:

Fitting, that in a year when more teams than ever make it to the playoffs, two pitchers from middle-of-the-division teams took home the top pitching prize. As time has passed, the bond between playoff appearances and being named the league's best pitcher has become a coin-flip afterthought.

Of the last five seasons of Cy Young winners, only Roy Halladay (2010) and Justin Verlander (2011) pitched their way to the postseason. That means a mere two out of the last ten recipients (20%).  

Take it back farther--to when the playoffs expanded to eight teams--and the numbers barely change. In these 18 years, now counting Price and Dickey, both leagues are dead even with nine playoff-bound Cy Young winners and nine October fishermen. This 50/50 split shows the playoffs are not on the mind's of contemporary voters as much as previously thought.

In that same span, from 1995-2012, the MVP came from a playoff team 81% of the time. This should not be news to anyone, as it was the thrust of most people's Cabrera counter-argument to my Trout campaign.

This is not how it used to be. The first eight American League Cy Young Award winners played on a playoff team, including 1967 and 1968 where there was still only one AL "playoff" team.

In the first 19 years of the Cy Young's existence the recipient(s) came from a postseason contender 21 out of 27 instances--a 78% correlation. The Cy Young was like the MVP voting of present day; you better have some kind of season to win it on a non-playoff team.   

This is why I contest Nolan Ryan was snubbed out of the Cy Young for his career. The precedent had not been set. In 1973 and 1974, Ryan had the best pitching seasons, hands down. But his California Angels were not in the World Series and, at the time, the two were synonymous. It took voters one more year, 1975, to award a pitcher who did not appear in the postseason (Jim Palmer).

So what has changed? How have qualified candidates, ordinarily buried in the standings, risen to elite status? Exposure has sure evolved; our 24/7 sports networks and ability to watch every team coast-to-coast on the internet. But the math is actually simpler than that. Voters finally understand how little responsibility a starting pitcher should bear in a team's 162-game record. In the era of thirty teams (or more) per professional sport, Major League Baseball is not the NBA or NHL in its postseason representation.  

If you exclusively awarded pitchers from playoff teams, selecting the Cy Young could only be drawn from 31% of the league's rosters. If the NHL chose the Vezina Trophy (best goaltender) off the same criteria, 53% of the starting goalies would be eligible. This is why hockey can get away with an unspoken "no-playoff, no award" policy; no matter how terrible the offense is, no one can be the best goalie if their team is in the bottom half of the league.

Baseball, not so much. There is a grey area of being above the midpoint of teams in the league and still not appearing in the playoffs. Being above .500 is not guaranteed a thing in MLB standings.   

There is also the issue of utilization. For the second straight season, the Major League lead in games started was only 34 games (21% of team's games played). Once again seeing similarities between hockey and baseball, this would be the equivalent to an NHL goalie making 25 starts in net. Essentially, this means a starting pitcher is like a back-up goalie; neither of whom should be held all that accountable for the team's end-of-year record.

Not his fault, but Justin Verlander was utilized less often than Jhonas Enroth (an athlete you have likely never heard of) was for the Buffalo Sabres in 2011. This is tongue-and-cheek and certainly not a comparison on their value/quality of play, but something to ponder. The point is, there are other players in the lineup every single day that shoulder the responsibility of team wins far more than pitchers. The past had it wrong; non-playoff pitchers are people too.   

Why individual wins are still meaningful to modern pitching awards:

I am all for the greatest pitchers coming from losing teams, as long as they win their games. The 2010 Felix Hernandez Cy Young, heralded as a victory for baseball nerds like me, was short-sided and frankly a travesty. Pitching in meaningless games is pitching in meaningless games; the difference is what you do in those games. Hernandez (2010) lost a majority of them, while Dickey (2012) won his fair share.  

These days, the modern Cy Young is evolving into something that resembles Andre Dawson's infamous NL MVP win in 1987. There seems to be a new focus on a single starting pitcher's percentage of total team wins. It is as if writers are saying "look at what this guy could do on an inept team, such that no one else on his team could do half as well." 

This is especially ironic when it comes out of the mouth of a sabermetrician who despises the pitching victory stat. They are all about rewarding a 20-game winner on a 60-win team, but hypocritically quick to discount 20 wins from a member of a division-winning team.

Run support is huge factor at play. Losing 1-0 is hard luck, while even the league's worst pitcher can pillage a 5-inning win for a team that puts up 8 runs. These are the extreme anomalies that everyone turns to, but they are also the reason averages exist. Take a look at the RS column in the Pitcher Rating table (below) and you will see that Verlander did more with less, but Price's Run Support Average was not that egregious. This was not a Tampa Bay juggernaut offense, constantly gifting Price 6-run leads. 


It is a given that a pitcher's win-loss record has evolved into something out of their own control. Complete games are on MLB's endangered species list. A starting pitcher can pitch brilliantly, leaving a game in-line for a win, and then helplessly watch from the dugout as the bullpen blows the save. 

But as the game gets more and more specialized, the expectation of perfection from the bullpen grows. For argument's sake, let's say a top-tier closing pitcher records a save nine out of ten tries--11 out of 30 full-time closers had a save percentage above 90% in 2012. Pair that with the fact that starters pitch every fifth day. It means that Price and Verlander (and every other team's ace, for that matter) had a one-in-five chance of running into their closer's one-in-ten bad days. It is negligible dumb luck. 

The modern game is also making the disparity in innings pitched between Price and Verlander a non-factor. Baseball has a mimimum criteria to qualify for a win. As long as Price consistently gets through the fifth inning, he should not be penalized for other player's who go deeper in the game. As a manager, a five-inning victory by my starter and an eight-inning victory by my starter are insignificantly alike. As long as the bullpen is not suffering fatigue from overuse, the innings are just descriptive words to the larger focus--the victory.  

More complete games and 27 1/3 more IPs does not prove to me that Verlander is a better pitcher. It is a sign of manager's assessment of who, at a specific situation in the game, gives the team the best chance to win.  

If nothing else, it leaves Price more susceptible to exiting with a lead and not getting the win. The fact that Price still got to 20 victories, despite this greater vulnerability, proves that Rays' manager Joe Maddon made the correct call more times than not. If Verlander pitched the 211 innings that Price did, he may have saved himself a hard-luck loss here or there, but his win total would not have increased. Verlander has very little excuse for not winning 20 games in a weaker division, with a playoff-bound team. 

The bullpen did not solely account for Verlander reaching only 17 wins and Price getting to 20. Verlander and Price had two of the best in the game (er... in the regular season at least). 

Fernando Rodney had a stellar season--eighth best Pitcher Rating in Major League Baseball--closing games for the Rays. He had only two blown saves in 50 chances. Yet, one of those two missteps cost David Price a win. Meanwhile in Detroit, Jose Valverde had a rockier year than his recent past would suggest and he blew five saves. But only once did a blown save come in a Verlander start (Opening Day). So you can add one victory to each Cy Young candidate's speculative win total and/or chalk it up as a wash.

Even if all of Valverde's blown saves cost Verlander directly--meaning a potential 22 wins--I still give the edge to Price. Postseason awards are not for extrapolation or speculation. It is like comparing pre-tax income and take-home-pay. It doesn't matter what you would have without deductions; it is about what you walk away with. Bullpens strip every pitcher of wins. Price dodged the minefield of a long season with the most to show for at the bottom line.

While win total seems to be the theme of the day, why are we not bringing up losses? It is not like Price went 20-10 on the season. His .800 individual winning percentage was far superior to Verlander's .680. Where was Verlander's powerful offense--led by the MVP--to spare him a loss here and there? 

The next argument I pose plays more to "the baseball gods" than it does hardline evidence. Baseball has natural ebb and flow; for every time that a starter helplessly watches a bullpen blow a win, there is a occasion of a late-game rally pulling a loss out of the fire. Or so it seems (I have no proof that it did, in fact, even out for both American League Cy Young finalists). Even if Price benefited from more "bail-out" no-decision games than Verlander, it was not enough to entirely account for a 12% edge in win percentage. 

And that is my thesis: pitchers makes their own breaks and their individual win percentage is the barometer. Most times the win-loss record gauges a player's success rate of wiggling off the hook. Price did what he needed to do, within the criteria necessary to rack up 20 wins.   

I do not care what external variables are involved; I want the pitcher that has the "it" factor to win a majority of his starts. Call it luck, call it a strong bullpen (one that guarantees a victory after 6 innings pitched), call it a potent offense that "wakes up" when a certain pitcher is on the mound. Call it beating up on weak-division teams and collecting "meaningless games" after being mathematically eliminated. Call it whatever you want. A win is a win is a win. Some pitchers know how to manage the game better than others. 

In a professional sports landscape, with super-economics at play, is it not the ultimate return on investment for a pitcher to win the games they start? Forget the ERA and the WHIP, the K/9 and the K/BB ratio. If you are paying a player five million dollars for 34 starts, winning 17 does not cut it. Simple as that.

Conversely, the pitcher can only blame himself for not executing. We live in a free agent world where aces have the right to shift divisions and chase a World Series championship. The circumstances surrounding him on the mound are all a direct result of the contract he signed.   

At the end of the day, the best pitcher in the game needs to have an intangible ability to win despite the worst of circumstances. Even if it is luck, Price put himself in better position to be lucky. Since joining the Rays, Tampa Bay has perennially over-achieved in the regular season (versus expectations and payroll figures), while the Tigers have under-performed (yes, they made it to the World Series, but their all-star roster suggested a 95-win, division-run-away team). 

The Rays have that something that can boost their ace to Cy Young winner. Put Verlander on the Rays and he would win 23 games a year. Their knack for dramatic walk-offs could at least prevent him for ever losing more than five games. In this, we have learned that a team's total wins is irrelevant to Cy Young voting, but found that it is still a team award. 

A fan of the Rays would never nit-pick how their ace won. Neither should the owner that pays him or the voters entrusted to reward his efforts. You pitch to win the game. Hello! 

Pitcher Rating Finale 2012
                                                                                           

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Let the Debate Begin


W. Ross Clites
Your City Sports-Cleveland


Saint Louis, MISSOURI--I am jumping right in on this one. Mike Trout will not win the American League Most Valuable Player Award... but he should.

Things you will not see in my argument: SABRmetrics like WAR, BABIP or UZR, all which favor Trout over Tigers third basemen Miguel Cabrera. While these mumbo-jumbo stats have merit, they are off-putting to the common baseball fan and, at the end of the day, that is the target audience for postseason awards to appease; MVPs are the people's champ in a given sport. So I will handicap my own argument by not using these figures and still put a convincing argument on the table as to why Trout had the better 2012.

First and foremost, we need to set the parameters on what the term "Most Valuable Player" means in this debate. Based on recent voting trends, the meaning changes year-to-year, depending on the quality of the teams represented by the candidates. Modern voters get into these staunch positions of "most valuable means most valuable to his team," but only when it is convenient. The minute the best player in the league comes from a team in third place in the division, the writers and analysts backtrack and contradict their own policies like a cut-rate politician. This is the only way to explain how Matt Kemp was snubbed last year. 

What voters really want to say is it awards the Most Outstanding Player, conditionally based on the fact that your team has won at least 85 games. And for argument's sake, we will go with that. Both the Angels and the Tigers satisfy the .525+ win percentage clause. Thus, Trout and Cabrera are on equal footing to be the best player in baseball by either definition of value.

We will now move on to the buzzword (phrase) of the 2012 season: Triple Crown. Cabrera and Trout each had historic offensive seasons; this much is undeniable. Cabrera's amalgamation of stats, however, happens to be affixed with a cute name that is easy for even the casual fan to identify with. Am I impressed that one man leads the league in three offensive categories? Honestly, that should be expected out of anyone in the MVP discussion. It is not Trout's fault that his more well-rounded statistical categories are not bundled into a fun phrase. Until they start awarding the runs, steals, and adjusted OPS leader the Golden Triangle, he is at a disadvantage to the media hype machine. 

Look to the Triple Crown namesake in a different sport and you have a perfect metaphor for my stance on the issue. The next thoroughbred horse to win the Derby, Preakness, and Belmont will not necessarily be one of the greatest race horses of all-time. Contemporary context is key. Inherently, any Triple Crown winner (baseball or even horse racing) requires one to be at or near their best, but also needs others around them to be not at their statistical peak. The Triple Crown is what I call an archaeological achievement; others around have to crumble and get brushed aside to appreciate the unremarkable as extraordinary.

Let's say Joe Mauer hits .333 this season and wins his fourth batting title. Now I know he did not and this part of the argument can be quickly dismissed, but hear me out. Cabrera then finishes the year as the home run leader and the RBI champ on a team loaded with offense, and the lineup protection of Prince Fielder. Is he still your Most Valuable Player? I do not believe the voters would say yes.

And that is what I have an issue with. It is proof of how much the Triple Crown feat clouds the judgment. I am not saying his Triple Crown was not earned; he put up monster numbers, even by his standards. I am saying that the Triple Crown has become this shield to protect his MVP candidacy from being scrutinized. That is an unfair reciprocal tolerance: that two out of three would likely mean no MVP for "Miggy," but accomplishing all three suddenly makes you the run-away candidate.  

Case and point: Ted Williams put up .343/43/159 and did not win the Triple Crown. He won the MVP in that 1949 season, but failed to win the award the two times he did lead in all three categories. Numbers need to be looked at independently of titles.

Furthermore, the 45 years separating Triple Crown winners is, in my opinion, being unfairly used in Cabrera's MVP push. His numbers need to stand alone. They do not earn bonus points because the likes have not been seen in decades. In actuality, Cabrera's numbers are seen relatively often. It is the linking of all three simultaneously that is the rarity.

There are seasons where .329/44/139 would not lead any of their respective categories. Without some sub-standard and injury-filled seasons by others (notably Bautista, Hamilton, and even Teixeira), Cabrera could have been buried in second place in all three. In no way is this Cabrera's fault--or something he needs to apologize for--but it does show that numbers are numbers, and fancy titles given to said numbers do not change their quantitative value. 

So if you must talk about the vast distance separating feats accomplished in 2012 and the golden age of baseball, talk about 30/30/.325. As in, Mike Trout was the first American League player in 90 years to hit more than 30 home runs, swipe more (way more) than 30 bases, and have a batting average above .325. If that does not get talked about, neither should 45 years since another assortment of stats.

Look at the last 25 seasons in the American League. Ten times the leader in home runs has also been the leader in runs batted in. My point is the offensive Triple Crown should not be as lauded because it is telling you what you already know. In a sport that prides itself on five-tool players, the Triple Crown casts a narrow net to find the best power hitter, period.

With two of its three categories seemingly redundant in their objectives--RBIs being tethered to HRs--then all the Triple Crown really needs is for one of these power hitters to stumble into a high average. Ironically, people trumpeting the Triple Crown are the same whacked-out SABR guys who want to do away with batting average altogether. Anyone else find that amusing? 

The feat was bound to happen because history shows getting two of the three is "easy" when you are in the middle of a potent offensive lineup on a division-winning team. Leading the league in RBIs and HRs and not winning the MVP happens with astounding frequency: in the last 25 AL seasons alone--Teixeira (2009), Ortiz (2006), A. Rodriguez (2002), Belle (1995), and Fielder (1990 and 1991). 

This year, the only thing Cabrera did out of the ordinary was lead the league in batting average. That is it. His home run and RBI totals were the only new personal best he extended. Cabrera's batting average, doubles, runs, slugging percentage, and OPS have all been higher in his career. I am not saying that to knock him, but it does show that his "usual" figures are in another stratosphere. This was not unworldly for his high standards.

So he turns in another "typical" Cabrera season, but because of how his numbers fell relative to the rest of the league, he is hyped louder than ever. He has never won the MVP award, so how can you argue that his stock numbers put him over the top this year? 

As you move down the side-by-side comparisons and award check marks to the player with the statistical edge, batting average should be a tie. Yes, Cabrera's numbers were percentage points (.003) higher, but to say that Trout is not equally as tough an out is preposterous. Call Cabrera and Trout 1A and 1B, since neither can say they were emphatically superior from a contact hitter perspective. And if you do call that category a deadlock in your voting, it becomes a devastating blow to the Cabrera party--seemingly negating his Triple Crown. 

This season did not see a chase for a momentous record; Cabrera did not need to stress or strain like a McGwire or Sosa in 1998. He was healthy and free to do everything he had already been doing for years. Whereas a record season pops up unexpectedly, long after Spring Training camps break and preseason predictions are in, this should have surprised no one. Cabrera has been a Triple Crown threat for a decade, in both leagues. This should not be as newsworthy as it has become. He leaves this regular season as a favorite to lead the AL in home runs and RBIs (at least) again next year. We would be more surprised if his numbers were not up to a Triple Crown standard.

Now let's turn our focus away from why Cabrera is not MVP and why Trout is. We can get all the quantitative data out of the way first. 129 runs to Cabrera's 109, 48 steals to Cabrera's 8, 89 wins for the Angels (albeit not a playoff team, but a division with two representatives) to Cabrera's 88 wins for the Tigers (much, much weaker division). Trout had six triples to Cabrera's zero, bounced into 21 fewer double plays, and went first to third on a single twice as many times as Cabrera. We get it... Cabrera is hefty these days and Trout is lean and fast.

As you flip to defensive comparisons, it is not even close. Trout will likely win a Gold Glove for his work in centerfield (albeit a far-too-often offensive-minded award). I will not bore you with stats like runs saved and the like; we all have eyes. We know Cabrera moved back to third in order for Prince Fielder to find a home in Detroit. He was terms like "serviceable" and phrases like "better than expected" but he certainly did not add value to his team with his glove. 

This is where I will have some great umbrage in the voting. People are going to say it is "unfair" to hold speed and defense against Cabrera. Are these not key components to the sport--especially when talking about a player's value to his team? Furthermore, how can you say such things as you hold Trout's RBI total (83) against him? 

During the course of the season, Mike Trout was up to bat with 284 runners on base. Compare that to Cabrera's 424 runners and suddenly the RBI comparison falls apart. The percentage of the runners they drove in is not that disparate (29% to 32% in favor of Cabrera). Almost makes you question who should get the check mark in the RBI category, too.

This leads me to my final argument and the creation of a new stat in baseball: achievement versus expectation (AVE). Miguel Cabrera is the commodity in this MVP race; he has looked every bit of a future Hall of Famer. Mike Trout is the rookie call-up. Their expectations--strictly from a managerial perspective--were vastly different. Cabrera was to hit in the middle of the Tigers lineup, hit home runs and knock guys in. He was to play enough defense to not force Jim Leyland's hand, i.e. moving him to full-time DH. Cabrera was also supposed to return his team to the playoffs in a very prominent, captain-esque role. On all accounts, Cabrera's AVE was 1.000--right where his manager wanted him to be. 

Now I am not 100% sure what Mike Scioscia thought he was going to get out of a rookie this season, but allow me to speculate. Trout was to hit lead-off, work some counts, take some walks, acclimate himself to Big League pitching. He was to get on base at all cost because his speed on the base paths is his biggest weapon. His glove is a close second and he was to make all the plays in captaining the outfield. Trout is not a corner infielder, catcher, or corner outfielder so 15 home runs would have been just fine. With huge acquisitions made by the Angels in the offseason, he was supposed to simply blend in with the guys in the clubhouse. Meaning, the veterans like Pujols, Weaver, Wilson, Hunter, Morales et. al. would be the leaders and he was pressure-free to "go play." 

What the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of California actually got was a man-child that shattered all expectations. Seeing that AVE is a stat that has existed for ten minutes, I am not comfortable enough to say that his achievement versus expectation is the highest of all-time, but it has to be close. On a team with some big names, he led the Angels with his .326 batting average and tied a guy named Albert Pujols for second in home runs... in 20 fewer games, from the lead-off spot! By whichever metric you want to define MVP, Mike Trout has been the best player in baseball in 2012--for his team, for your team, for my team, for any team he would have played for. 

He was never the anonymous guy in the clubhouse or the dugout. Never meant to be the best player or the leader of the Angels, he was both. At age 21, Trout carried a team on his back for month-long stretches. He kept a sinking ship afloat in the Wild Card race. His value to the Angels was unquestionably higher than that of Miguel Cabrera's to the Tigers. To many, Cabrera is not even the best player on his own team. They have this Justin Verlander fellow that people seem to think could have carried Detroit to the postseason by himself. And seeing as the AL Central is the worst division in baseball, it could have been possible. 

Understand that expectations are as important to voters as consistency; neither should factor into the MVP. This, and all postseason awards, put the microscope solely on annual accomplishments. Stringing together prior feats should be discounted. EVA is a tongue-and-cheek creation, merely bringing to the attention the shock value that a rookie, of all people, is legitimately in the discussion for MVP against a future Hall of Famer with a Triple Crown year. It is simply amazing. Regardless what either of these two players do with the remaining years of their career, this vote bonds them. 

The only concession I will make from Trout's camp is that he did play in 22 fewer games than Cabrera. That will be the only acceptable explanation I can receive from voters that see Cabrera above Trout. Timing is everything and although it does not officially weigh in the decision-making process, voters will see what Cabrera does in the playoffs. It will undoubtedly be a postseason appearance with some hits and/or heroics, which Trout will not be able to match. No Triple Crown winner was ever snubbed the MVP for any other reason than playoff appearance by the other candidate. Trout does not have his Angels playing in mid-October and the vote will reflect it.  

At its most rudimentary breakdown, the MVP should not be solely reliant on Power and Hitting. It should be Power and Hitting and Running and Defense. And if it is more about the latter, Mike Trout will need to move his Rookie-of-the-Year Award over in the trophy case; making room for the bigger hardware.  

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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

...And Like Like Can Lead to Love

W. Ross Clites
Your City Sports-Cleveland


Saint Louis, MISSOURI--Talk about first-world problems in a child's upbringing. His father was an NBA forward. His uncle was a member of The Beach Boys. His middle name, Wesley, comes from family friend and Basketball Hall of Famer, Wes Unseld, who taught him his patented outlet passes. He was Gatorade National Player of the Year and can't-miss McDonald's All-American. He still holds the record as the state of Oregon's all-time leader in high school points scored, and would have easily made the direct jump to the NBA--rules permitting. Instead, he led his UCLA team to the Final Four and was the cover boy for the video game NCAA Basketball '09. He even asked a UCLA legend to unretire his number, so he could wear number 42 in college. And the crazier part is that Walt Hazzard agreed to.

Who could possibly have that much audacity? What high school kid has done enough to request a banner that hangs in Pauley Pavilion (of all places) to be disregarded as off-limits. Three words: spoiled Kevin Love.

The silver-spooned Love had all your typical teenager dilemmas: Which brand will better my image and NBA draft stock? This tough decision notably played out twice in his road to fame. The summer before his junior year, Love chose a Reebok camp over Nike. The local Oregon brand promptly dropped him from their elite team. Oh well.

That next year, Love decided where he was born felt more like home than where he spent the 17 years of his childhood. He selected UCLA (an Adidas school) over the University of Oregon (the Nike school) to "continue his education." No ill-will, right Oregon fans? It was only going to be for one year, only because the NBA made him pick a college. His "betrayal" and subsequent decision to stay in-conference was not that big of an issue, right?

Get real. In Love's lone Pac-10 trip to Eugene, as a visiting Bruin, his family was pelted with garbage in the stands and his cell number was posted; flooding his phone with death threats. Again, his stance was that of oh well. He wouldn't ever have to go through that again. Kevin Love never had to care, because he was able to run away from rare adversity.

Love was yet another one-and-done player that I have grown to possess heavy animosity towards. It is no secret that I prefer the college hoops game over the "Association" and the one-year minimum certainly hurts fans like me. I empathize with those that need the impending income to give their families a better life. Some people are need-based dollar chasers, and I actually agree that it is unconstitutional to deny their right to work. In those cases, I understand foregoing a sophomore season. But not Kevin Love.

He was a privileged white kid, playing for a prominent college program. These two factors mean he had no business joining the front lines of those trying to break the system. If you are going to leave after one obligatory year, go be a star for a Conference-USA team with little to no tradition or standards. The UCLAs of the world deserve better than being reduced to JuCos for divas. Love needed UCLA, but he had all the leverage in his decision; making it appear that UCLA needed him. That is down-right embarrassing.

The one-and-done rule is for the revolving door colleges where the retention rate is comparable to the staff at Burger King. Fans and administrators of elite teams need to get weaned off the bottle. They should not tolerate/allow their coach to recruit rent-a-players, no matter how talented. They need to take a stance: win with people that respect the history of the jersey they wear and want to be a piece of it (not a fleeting trivia question). Regardless, I feel the rule needs to go away, but that is an article for another day.

While in Westwood, Love made
headlines with his demanding curriculum. If he was going to use the college ranks as an immediate stepping stone, then all the more reason to stay at Oregon. It was the alma mater of Love's father--the perfect situation. Eugene churns out athlete-students (not the other way around) each year. It is a place tarnished with commercialism; there is not a large enough separation of Church (Nike) and State. His leaving after one year would have been expected and not have John Wooden rolling in his grave. This, too, is a topic for a future date.

What made this worse is that Love turned his back on a very good team. The 2007-08 Bruins won the Pac-10 regular season and tournament championships, obtained a #1 seed in The Dance, and appeared in the Final Four. It makes the disloyalty all the more head-scratching.


I went to all these lengths to simply say that I strongly disliked Kevin Love. I felt his attitude towards the game was selfishly backwards. He came out of high school entitled and it only got worse coming out of college. He had a general appearance of laziness and it seemed that his talent was strictly shock-and-awe. I could never figure out how this "ogre" put the ball in the bucket with such regularity. Surely, it was because he outsized everyone in the college ranks. His game would never translate to the pros. I pegged Tyler Hansbrough to be a better NBA player, which is a real insult for how little I thought of the future of the North Carolina standout.


Boy was I wrong. It started when Lov
e was dealt the perfect hand to make me change my mind. Minnesota is not SoCal, in every aspect (remember, there was a reason the Lakers left Minneapolis). Similarly, the TimberWolves are not the UCLA of the pro ranks. His UCLA Final Four team could have probably beat the T'Wolves while Love was still in college. Things were finally difficult in Kevin Love's life. His first-world problems had to feel slightly larger.

Minnesota might as well be Canada. This was the same place where First-Team All-Flop, and fellow one-and-doner, Michael Beasley bashed for its lack of nightlife upon his trade from South Beach. Miami and Minneapolis have different social scenes? Who knew?


And while it is not a proud thing for me to reveal, I was ecstatic that Love was downtrodden. Minnesota basketball is major sport's media purgatory. I believe my exact thoughts were:
Good, we won't see or hear from that guy until his expiring contract is traded back to relevance, or the NBA contracts to 28 teams. Out of sight, out of mind; like a middle infielder getting traded to the Seattle Mariners. "Oh, that's where that guy went? I forgot all about him." I don't wish ill-will on many, but players in this category have/had millions of dollars to pile up and cry into. Not much sympathy.

What makes this story better--in the sadistic way--is that Love was actually drafted by the Memphis Grizzles. A Draft Day trade sent him up to Minnesota, which appeared like
to-ma-toe/to-mah-toe at the time. The two franchises play in the far superior Western Conference, where many lottery-pick careers go to die. Battling hard as an NBA bottom-feeder is like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. But, as luck would have it, the Grizzlies got better and the T'Wolves stayed the same.

Memphis surprisingly stole the eight-seed in the 2011 playoffs, taking on a Cinderella role. Had that trade never happened, Love would have a Western Conference semifinals appearance on his resume. Instead, Love's best regular-season finish is 11th place in the West, finishing last the past two years.

Somehow throughout all of this, Love has stayed freakishly positive and his game has taken off. He has said all the right things. He has strapped a young, untalented team on his back and single-handedly won many a game. He quickly became the star of the last SportsCenter highlight of the night; a title comparable to being the most prolific home run hitter in AAA. He silently collected the Most Improved Player Award in 2011, which accompanied an All-Star appearance. The league began to recognize that the boy could play.

He has had critics his entire basketball life, but he has never gotten mad. Haters say that he is overrated; a product of passing and rebounding ability. In a league where sexy plays sell, his skills are often undervalued. People are quick to point out that a team like Minnesota misses so often that anyone 6' 10" should pull down 15 boards a night without any trouble. Love has used his criticisms to expand his offensive repertoire. In a very short time, he has developed one of the best outside strokes of any NBA big man.

Love's dedication to the weight room is now equally evident. His arms went from flabby (large in appearance, not because of workouts but shear mass) to maintaining serious definition. He slimmed down and shed the
Shrek comparisons with every pound. It also helped his general image that he was no longer the clearly-located tallest man on the court; Love simply looks more athletic than in college. His deep threat ability has made him this hybrid swing man, like a white, non-crazy Rasheed Wallace in his prime.

In 2010-11, Love went on a 53-game double-double streak, the longest since the NBA-ABA merger. He also shot 42% from the 3-point line. Suddenly, he was a match-up nightmare. His versatility will be on full display during this weekend's All-Star festivities in Orlando. He will be the tallest and widest competitor (yet my favorite to win) in the Three Point Shooting Competiton on Saturday, and then a key Western reserve in his second All-Star Game on Sunday. If only the NBA added a rebounding/outlet pass relay. It his best attribute, largely unappreciated in the pace of today's pro game.
The man can nearly throw a full-court chest pass.

Love became especially personable with a series of funny
commercials and pun-filled campaigns. He obviously knew others shared my feelings about his spoiled-kid image. He brilliantly embraced the stereotypes and mocked them. His imitation cologne NUMB#RS pokes fun at everything that he left in California. It makes me think of Bill Murray's title character from "What About Bob?" He would say (in reference to life-threatening diseases), "if I fake it, then I don't have it." To me, SoCal is a disease, but it is not terminal. And Love is proof that you can shy away from that lifestyle and adapt in to whatever Minnesota offers.

Love even turned a noble charity coat drive into a vessel for his
personality to show through. For starters, the coat drive displayed his connection to the locals. There are charitable causes that are not geographically discriminate: things like cancer, MS, diabetes, and ALS are unfortunately found in every corner of the country. They are certainly worthy of celebrity-athlete endorsement, don't get me wrong. But by choosing something that is a Minnesota necessity, especially to the poorer people that cannot afford a ticket to watch him play, it speaks to something more about his character. He has embraced "his town" and now that town is making room for his roots to take hold.

Kevin Love's jests are endearing to me, as a Midwesterner, an area notable for its self-deprecating sense of humor. I really enjoy that he uses the Minneapolis area code in all his branding. He seems genuine and I would love to see him stay in the Twin Cities for his entire career; do what Kevin Garnett never could and hoist a T'Wolves championship banner.

His mentality and leadership are already there. He has a zero tolerance policy for prima donna loafers like Michael Beasley, who will likely be shipped out of Minnesota before season's end. Love made some recent comments about the fluidity of the offense without Beasley on the floor, and I'm sure his opinion carries more weight than you might think. If I were running the TimberWolves, I wouldn't hesitate to say to Love, "tell me who you want to play with."

Currently, that supporting cast is a little weak. I thoroughly enjoy Ricky Rubio and predict superstardom, but the facts are the facts. He has still spent more time playing in Europe as a T'Wolves product than he has in Target Center. Rubio is as silent as a double-double threat can be, but he is hardly on anybody's
top ten point guards going right now.

So, Love
does not have a big name star suiting up with him each night. This is his professional equivalent of his spoiled-kid dilemmas of the past. His reaction is just the same: Oh well. This time around, his apathetic outlook is actually the commendable approach. In the eyes of the nation, it all makes the Wolves even more of his team. It has to be pointed out that last season would have been Love's rookie campaign if he stayed at UCLA for a full four years. He is still a young kid and that gets lost in the shuffle. Show me a player under 25 who has done more with less.

Quick, envision a trade that would send Love to the Clippers for Blake Griffin, straight-up. Suspend your thinking of cap space, cash considerations, and all that nonsense. Simply evaluate how each has become the torch-bearer for the city they play for: Griffin
is L.A. and Love is Minnesota.

This is ironic because Griffin (Midwestern guy) played college ball in his home state of Oklahoma, while Love (Weft Coast guy) played at UCLA, where he was born. Should each player stay in their current location long-term, soon you will swear that their childhood locales were the other way around. Griffin is only going to get more Hollywood, while Love is only going to get more Paul Bunyan, Jr.

My conjecture is not only that Kevin Love belongs in Minnesota, but also that he is a better basketball player than Griffin. The combination of the league's adage of entertainment over sport, and the ever-growing ridiculousness of SportsCenter to value dunks over all else, has made Griffin the superstar. Love should have the upper hand in the argument because he can create his own shot.

Minnesota and Love are only going to get better, year after year. They will do it the fundamental, quiet, dare I say Tampa Bay Rays way. And that is why Love belongs where he does. A Chris Paul point guard would change the dynamic of what makes him my new favorite player in the league. He is a pure two-way player and represents the blue collar mentality that won the Detroit Pistons their 2004 championship.

This year, three particular things have really brought it all home for me. First, Love signed a five-year contract extension to stick it out in the Minnesota winters. With Rubio finally stateside, the decision clears up his loyalty issues and selfishness myth. He showed the city that his heart is in the right place, and dropped 31 points against the reigning champion Dallas Mavericks, the night after inking the deal. The feelings are mutual between Love and the Twin Cities.


Item two: Love had a recent run-in with the league's disciplinarian. In a defense-to-offense transition play, Love stepped on the face of a fallen Luis Scola. Regardless of the intent, he earned credibility in my book. By his account, it was strictly accidental. But I will choose to spin it into a cut-your-heart-out/throw-high-and-inside-in-a-father-son-baseball-game mentality... even if it wasn't. That type of grit or edginess is what he was lacking at UCLA. It was hardly Ndamukong
Suh's explanation for tripping over Packers guard, Evan Dietrich-Smith, but I thought it was just as wryly factitious. If he wants respect for Minnesota, Love knows he has to get physical and claw his way out of the cellar. He will play better as a bad boy and not a SoCal prima donna.

The last item was the final puzzle piece. It recently completed the full 180 degree turn in my opinion of Kevin Love. Admittedly, his approval rating saw small gains in his first two NBA seasons. An unsung role on the 2010 Team USA that redeemed international dominance with FIBA gold aided Love's stock. But the needle on the meter really took off when he threw away his razor. His beard is
legit. He goes from Dopey to distinguished, adding years of perceived experience with every hair.


I am a heterosexual man, but Love turned himself into a good-looking dude. His buzz cut head was awful. And the
pencil-thin, chin-strap beard brought attention to how goofy his jawline really is. All of a sudden, he now has a shaggy mop and facial hair. It is a microcosm of what really has happened to Kevin Love. He is now a Minnesotan, through and through. SoCal is a distant memory and he has adapted to his surroundings and team.

In a free-agent laden professional sports landscape, I root for anyone that is loyal and locally responsive to his fan base. It is also a league
where analysts hedge around the issue of a new-school racial discrimination among executives and scouts. In both cases, it is refreshing that a domestic Caucasian product is doing big things with his original team. And these big things do not involve being a token deep threat, see: J.J. Redick, Kyle Korver, Steve Novak, et. al.


Love is currently among the 20 finalists for the 2012 Olympics. For me to say I would love to see him in London is not only an understatement, but really corny writing. Either way, he belongs.


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Friday, February 3, 2012

Big Train Awards

W. Ross Clites
Your City Sports-Cleveland
Saint Louis, MISSOURI--This is a bittersweet installment. Four years of painstaking solo research, trial and error, gathering data, punching numbers, and formatting graphics has finally come to an end. The bow has been tied on the package, known only to me as the Walter Johnson Awards. The "Big Train" should have his name on the trophy; he won it more than anyone. Trouble is, Johnson died 66 years before anyone could hand him one.

The reason that this moment is bittersweet because it feels like it could be my greatest contribution, or legacy, in the sports world. Why is that all bad? Simply put, I'm nervous that the best thing I will ever do comes at age 25. Or worse, that my best really isn't anything all that great to anyone but me.

I am unveiling a confusing usage of my time at a confusing time in my life... seems fitting. On one hand I am extremely proud. I am confident there are no holes in any of the research; I wouldn't allow it to see the light of day until it was ready. There were nights where assuming the role of personal devil's advocate pushed me to the edge of throwing it all away. I would ask myself, "who is going to care?"

That is the irony of the whole thing: I can defend any of the things on these sheets, but I cannot answer that simple question.

No sane person sets out to create a nerdy baseball statistic and take it as far as I have taken it. On the cusp of an Oscar nomination for Moneyball, it is quick to say that this is an attempt to ride the wave of Sabermetrics in pop culture. In reality, I distance myself from Sabermetrics for it "devalues the artistry and takes the fun out of baseball" (my words).

In Billy Beane's mind, his application of atypical number crunching serves a purpose. He uses unique data for player evaluation and forecasting from a management perspective. Take Sabermetrics out of that "useful" context and their importance to society get questioned. You're not a manager, why do you need to know Ultimate Zone Rating? And don't say "for your fantasy team."

Statistics created by Bill James and Rob Neyer carry ridiculous-sounding acronyms, and the common fan has no clue what a good score is. Go to a baseball game and you may hear the person next to you saying, "His xFIP is one of the best DIPS in the league, but his BABIP is still over .300." Even the biggest baseball fans, like me, want to punch this person in the face.

I have written articles on this site that have challenged ESPN for giving Mr. Neyer a Cy Young Predictor. Everyone is entitled to their opinion and my formula is no better or worse than his, it is just different. In principle I like that team James/Neyer set out to create a vacuum, where arguments sparked by comparing players like Barry Bonds to Babe Ruth could be "settled." Somewhere along the way Sabermetrics fell into the hands of too many people that still live with their parents.

I would like you to believe that my work is not that crazy. My formula is more-or-less straightforward; it does not forecast anything, only summarizes what was done in the past. Its acronym is only two letters, there is a similar stat in circulation in football (thus there is precedent for widespread acceptance among casual fans), and works just like an academic test score (thus approachable because everyone understands the need for a curve). It takes an apples-to-oranges argument and makes it apples-to-apples. That is it. The best part is it never needs to come out of a spectator's mouth at a game.

The double irony is that I hate mathematics and have never been good with them.

This research was done during wars, financial meltdowns, etc. and it hardly helps solve any of the world's travesties. It is quite the contrary: backlogging the past achievements of million dollar athletes. What makes it worse is that the sport has (or had, depending on your stance) a muddled drug problem, so these contemporary stars should not warrant any comparison to the legends of the past. The last thing this world needs is another postseason award to be talked about on the 24/7 sports-focused media outlets.

[Sigh]
Oops. It is what it is.

Pitcher Rating is my baby; a secret Excel formula that will stay with me to my grave (or until someone wants to pay me millions to see it). It has ten variables that were repeatedly checked and double checked against a sample size that filled my notebooks. Needless to say, baseball-reference.com became my homepage quickly. For two seasons I have been using it to post articles on this very site. I went through 122 MLB seasons and still haven't found an underserving leader in the PR category--the winner of a "Big Train" Award.

For those of you who have never spent a Friday night crunching the Run Support Average of a 1920s pitcher, you do not know what you're missing. Maybe I am crazy because I felt it needed to be done. A common complaint among historians is that there are too many different eras of baseball that prevent players today from being measured against the past. Under the same parameters? Absolutely. But that is a weak obstacle that no one truly challenged with anything more than an asterisk.

Pitcher Rating's main goal was to take a pitcher, regardless of role or time period, and grade their season-long contribution against any other. I feel this is achieved with the fluctuating "Points Possible" that reflect changes made to the game. Showing that the Cy Young Award voting has consistently been a joke was simply a joyful byproduct.

It is my humble opinion that the creation of an objective, strictly mathematics-based, postseason award would solve some sports fans' issues. Computers are extremely useful at taking dozens of opinions and statistics and translating them into one value. Few people would have a problem with the BCS rankings if they were used to seed an eight-team tournament. Treating technology like a juicer is a fine solution if the application is right.

It certainly won't bring about world peace or stop hunger, but it might just be the best thing I can do.


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