Yesterday, Tom Verducci of SI was interviewed by Charlie Steiner of Baseball Beat (XM Radio channel 175, "MLB Home Plate"), and in the course of their conversation, the excitement and tension in this year's 15 inning All-Star game came up, and Verducci (originally a detractor of "This time it counts", by his own admission) pointed to the excitement in extra innings not only evident in the stands but also in the dugouts (where even players who had been replaced were still on pins and needles on the top step of the dugout) as proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that "This time it counts" is successful, and anyone who still doubts this is living in an alternate universe and doesn't know it. He might as well have used that famous line that is now regularly used with respect to the Wild Card: "The debate is over."
I found Cook delivers gutsy, memorable effort to be an excellent recap of those tense extra innings. Even better was Tenth inning provides All-Star drama. It is certainly thrilling to read how Miguel Tejada's play for the final out in the bottom of the 10th nearly brought down the house.
It is of course noteworthy that what brought down the house was not the AL (the home team) winning (in fact, this play was one of many that threatened to prolong the game past the endurance levels of both managers and probably many of the fans there), but simply a fantastic play. Let me underscore that again: a play that did not resolve this game that now "Counts!" I wonder if there's an object lesson there ....
At any rate, my response to Tom Verducci would be: I'm not going to seriously argue that Home Field advantage in the World Series hanging in the balance may have heightened the drama last Tuesday at Yankee Stadium. After all, if the players and the managers believe it makes a difference, then it effectively does. I would only mention that famous logical fallacy Post hoc, ergo propter hoc. Just because the game was terribly exciting after Bud Selig made this "tweak" in the All-Star game, does not prove cause-and-effect. More importantly, it does not prove that this "tweak" was necessary to make the players try that hard to win. Surely there are still old time fans alive who can remember when the players went all out to win the All-Star game at a time when the game had zero impact on the post-season.
However, that has never been my argument against this gimmick, though I still question how big a deal it really is, since home field advantage only matters if the World Series reaches the 7th game.
My argument is this: what is so wrong about treating this game like the exhibition game that it is??? To approach it from the opposite end, it is still obvious that this game is still basically an exhibition game when Terry Francona inserts his 3rd pitcher to begin the 4th inning of a scoreless game, and replaced Alex Rodriguez with Joe Crede at about the same time (and I'm a White Sox fan so I loved seeing Crede in there so early). If A-Rod had somewhere else to be later in the evening, then maybe there should be some way to replace him from the start (If the game really matters, then players should be able to adjust their schedules around that game, don't you think?). And if a pitcher is only allowed to pitch one inning, then maybe he should be replaced too. After all, if the game really matters, then everyone on the team should show up ready to play for real, not with a list of exemptions a mile long.
Obviously this is still pretty much an exhibition game. To take what is pretty much an exhibition game and translate it into Home Field advantage in the World Series is illogical.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
I want my All-Star game back
Every year, Kyle Whelliston goes into a self-imposed exile, avoiding at all costs any mention of the Super Bowl, trying his best to live his life as if that particular game does not exist. I had thoughts of doing the same thing this year with the All-Star game, but I was not up to the challenge. I settled for abstaining from watching or listening to it, but I still had to follow the game with MLB Gameday.
Yes, I want my All-Star game back. You know -- back when it was an exhibition game and everyone recognized this unassailable fact. "This time it counts" has kind of ruined it for me. I confess the one reason why I did follow the game on-line as mentioned is because I wanted to see if the NL could somehow win the game for a change. Alternatively, I was fascinated to find out what method to which the NL would resort to blow this particular All-Star game.
When the game reached midnight and went into extra innings, I shut off my computer and went to sleep, dreaming of the game still ending in a tie. I was hoping to wake up the next morning to find out they were still playing. I would have laughed for a good five minutes.
1. Has anyone considered that to assign home-field advantage to the World Series based on the outcome of a game where one league has the home-field advantage is asinine?
2. When Bud "Darth Vader" Selig has to send foot soldiers down to each clubhouse in extra innings, saying, "Guys? You see that padlock on the clubhouse door? You're not getting out of here until one of you wins. You're here for the duration," you know the war has already been lost. You can't force people to play an exhibition game as if it is a one-game playoff for the final postseason slot if they don't naturally want to play it that way. Terry Francona used his third pitcher in the 4th inning (of a scoreless game) and took A-Rod out of the game in that same inning. You don't do things like that if the primary objective is to win the game.
3. The game used to count 30 or 40 years ago. It doesn't anymore. Get over it, Bud. When at least half your pitching staff arrives at the game with little notes pinned to their uniforms: "Dear Mr. Manager, please do not use my pitcher for more than 1 inning or more than 25 pitches, whichever comes first. Thanks very much, signed, Mr. Pitching coach", you can't possibly manage as if your primary objective is to win the game. Face it, the days when you could use each pitcher for 3 innings and guys like Willie Mays could play 15 innings are gone. You can't get them back.
4. It's a baseball game. The fundamental objective is to score more runs than the other team. If any player can't at least treat the game that way, they don't belong there in the first place. That said, there's really no reason to try to reinforce that imperative with band-aid measures like "This time it counts!" Of course Francona and Hurdle wanted to win the game, and so frankly do all the players involved in the game. But there simply are other concerns to be attended to as well, and you're never going to make winning at all costs the theme of this exhibition. So, why pretend to heighten the importance of the outcome -- beyond just the joy of winning the game all by itself?
5. While we're at it, tell me this: Why is it the utter end of the world if the game does end in a tie???? I mean, I get that this is no ordinary exhibition game (ordinary exhibition games end in a tie all the time, every year, by the way, and nobody cares). Sure, it's on the national stage, and it is a little embarrassing. But a catastrophe of biblical proportions?? I don't get that. If you're that ashamed of the 2002 All-Star game, there are things you can tweak about the rules of the All-Star game itself (somebody a long time ago suggested allowing a catcher that has been replaced return to the game in extra innings if necessary), without resorting to this nonsense about home-field advantage in the WS. That's an incentive where none is really needed. What are needed are some special rules that facilitate managing this special game to a desirable conclusion without altering the basic flavor of the game.
6. Billy Ripken was interviewed on MLB Home Plate (XM channel 175) and pinpointed something else that must change: we have to have contingency plans for all these players that show up with this or that restriction on their usage. He didn't make any concrete suggestions, but if a guy is not ready to go a reasonable amount in the game, there ought to be a way to say, "Ya know, come on up and soak up the atmosphere, enjoy your introduction, tip your hat to the fans, enjoy the parade, you earned it, but we're gonna put you on the disabled list for this game and bring someone else up for this game that can go longer so we're not so hamstrung."
7. Billy's interviewer had the temerity to ask if the excitement of this year's game was significantly enhanced by "This time it counts!" Essentially, Billy's response was: "Are you kidding me???" Well put, Billy. If you can't find yourself with one foot on the top step of the dugout feeling the tension while Aaron Cook gets out of a bases-loaded-no-outs situation in the bottom of the 9th, you're not a baseball player. If you are sitting in the stands in that moment feeling the least bit bored, you're not a baseball fan. "This time it counts!" adds absolutely nothing to the excitement that is inherent in the sport itself.
My goal next year is to pull a Kyle Whelliston for real this time: No voting, and completely ignoring baseball for 3 days in July. I don't know if I can pull it off, but Bud, if you're reading this and want me back as a fan of this game, give me my All-Star game back.
Yes, I want my All-Star game back. You know -- back when it was an exhibition game and everyone recognized this unassailable fact. "This time it counts" has kind of ruined it for me. I confess the one reason why I did follow the game on-line as mentioned is because I wanted to see if the NL could somehow win the game for a change. Alternatively, I was fascinated to find out what method to which the NL would resort to blow this particular All-Star game.
When the game reached midnight and went into extra innings, I shut off my computer and went to sleep, dreaming of the game still ending in a tie. I was hoping to wake up the next morning to find out they were still playing. I would have laughed for a good five minutes.
1. Has anyone considered that to assign home-field advantage to the World Series based on the outcome of a game where one league has the home-field advantage is asinine?
2. When Bud "Darth Vader" Selig has to send foot soldiers down to each clubhouse in extra innings, saying, "Guys? You see that padlock on the clubhouse door? You're not getting out of here until one of you wins. You're here for the duration," you know the war has already been lost. You can't force people to play an exhibition game as if it is a one-game playoff for the final postseason slot if they don't naturally want to play it that way. Terry Francona used his third pitcher in the 4th inning (of a scoreless game) and took A-Rod out of the game in that same inning. You don't do things like that if the primary objective is to win the game.
3. The game used to count 30 or 40 years ago. It doesn't anymore. Get over it, Bud. When at least half your pitching staff arrives at the game with little notes pinned to their uniforms: "Dear Mr. Manager, please do not use my pitcher for more than 1 inning or more than 25 pitches, whichever comes first. Thanks very much, signed, Mr. Pitching coach", you can't possibly manage as if your primary objective is to win the game. Face it, the days when you could use each pitcher for 3 innings and guys like Willie Mays could play 15 innings are gone. You can't get them back.
4. It's a baseball game. The fundamental objective is to score more runs than the other team. If any player can't at least treat the game that way, they don't belong there in the first place. That said, there's really no reason to try to reinforce that imperative with band-aid measures like "This time it counts!" Of course Francona and Hurdle wanted to win the game, and so frankly do all the players involved in the game. But there simply are other concerns to be attended to as well, and you're never going to make winning at all costs the theme of this exhibition. So, why pretend to heighten the importance of the outcome -- beyond just the joy of winning the game all by itself?
5. While we're at it, tell me this: Why is it the utter end of the world if the game does end in a tie???? I mean, I get that this is no ordinary exhibition game (ordinary exhibition games end in a tie all the time, every year, by the way, and nobody cares). Sure, it's on the national stage, and it is a little embarrassing. But a catastrophe of biblical proportions?? I don't get that. If you're that ashamed of the 2002 All-Star game, there are things you can tweak about the rules of the All-Star game itself (somebody a long time ago suggested allowing a catcher that has been replaced return to the game in extra innings if necessary), without resorting to this nonsense about home-field advantage in the WS. That's an incentive where none is really needed. What are needed are some special rules that facilitate managing this special game to a desirable conclusion without altering the basic flavor of the game.
6. Billy Ripken was interviewed on MLB Home Plate (XM channel 175) and pinpointed something else that must change: we have to have contingency plans for all these players that show up with this or that restriction on their usage. He didn't make any concrete suggestions, but if a guy is not ready to go a reasonable amount in the game, there ought to be a way to say, "Ya know, come on up and soak up the atmosphere, enjoy your introduction, tip your hat to the fans, enjoy the parade, you earned it, but we're gonna put you on the disabled list for this game and bring someone else up for this game that can go longer so we're not so hamstrung."
7. Billy's interviewer had the temerity to ask if the excitement of this year's game was significantly enhanced by "This time it counts!" Essentially, Billy's response was: "Are you kidding me???" Well put, Billy. If you can't find yourself with one foot on the top step of the dugout feeling the tension while Aaron Cook gets out of a bases-loaded-no-outs situation in the bottom of the 9th, you're not a baseball player. If you are sitting in the stands in that moment feeling the least bit bored, you're not a baseball fan. "This time it counts!" adds absolutely nothing to the excitement that is inherent in the sport itself.
My goal next year is to pull a Kyle Whelliston for real this time: No voting, and completely ignoring baseball for 3 days in July. I don't know if I can pull it off, but Bud, if you're reading this and want me back as a fan of this game, give me my All-Star game back.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Requiem for adverbs
"This team is doing things different than they used to ..."
"He's throwing the ball pretty good right now ..."
How often have I heard statements like these recently?
I can only guess one of two things has happened: (1) the adverbs are on strike, (2) the adjectives banded together and started dressing up like adverbs and nobody noticed the difference.
I need to point out a couple of things: (1) In my experience, the main culprits have not been athletes, for whom fluent communication is not necessarily what they are supposed to major in, but rather the play-by-play announcers and sports analysts (for whom fluent communication is what they are supposed to major in), (2) these statements I'm hearing are coming from people for whom English is their first language.
I was just watching the highlights for tonight's MLB games, and George Grande, "a 39-year veteran of the broadcasting business" and currently the TV voice of the Cincinnati Reds, announced Jerry Hairston's 3rd inning home run, "He hit it pretty good to left..."
George, try this with me: "He hit it pretty well to left..." He announced Griffey's walk-off home run the same way.
Now, I certainly do not expect George, or anyone else calling a home run to double-check a grammar manual while the home run ball flies out of the park and the moment of excitement is gone forever. Obviously, fluent communication is something you learn ahead of time so that it becomes second nature, even in the heat of the moment. I'm thinking that the sports journalism community as a whole has been skipping the lessons on adverbs for some time now.
Maybe we need Tom Lehrer to come out of retirement and help us with his L-Y song:
"You're wearing your squeaky shoes
And right there taking a snooze
Is a tiger, so how do you walk on by?..."
I can just hear a sports announcer answer: "real quiet-like." Ugh. I actually can easily imagine hearing George Grande or John Rooney or Karl Ravech not only using an adjective to describe the verb "walk", but compounding the offense by using the adjective "real" to describe the adjective-masquerading-as-an-adverb "quiet" (the "-like" is added as an unconscious admission that "quiet" is the wrong form to use).
"He's throwing the ball pretty good right now ..."
How often have I heard statements like these recently?
I can only guess one of two things has happened: (1) the adverbs are on strike, (2) the adjectives banded together and started dressing up like adverbs and nobody noticed the difference.
I need to point out a couple of things: (1) In my experience, the main culprits have not been athletes, for whom fluent communication is not necessarily what they are supposed to major in, but rather the play-by-play announcers and sports analysts (for whom fluent communication is what they are supposed to major in), (2) these statements I'm hearing are coming from people for whom English is their first language.
I was just watching the highlights for tonight's MLB games, and George Grande, "a 39-year veteran of the broadcasting business" and currently the TV voice of the Cincinnati Reds, announced Jerry Hairston's 3rd inning home run, "He hit it pretty good to left..."
George, try this with me: "He hit it pretty well to left..." He announced Griffey's walk-off home run the same way.
Now, I certainly do not expect George, or anyone else calling a home run to double-check a grammar manual while the home run ball flies out of the park and the moment of excitement is gone forever. Obviously, fluent communication is something you learn ahead of time so that it becomes second nature, even in the heat of the moment. I'm thinking that the sports journalism community as a whole has been skipping the lessons on adverbs for some time now.
Maybe we need Tom Lehrer to come out of retirement and help us with his L-Y song:
"You're wearing your squeaky shoes
And right there taking a snooze
Is a tiger, so how do you walk on by?..."
I can just hear a sports announcer answer: "real quiet-like." Ugh. I actually can easily imagine hearing George Grande or John Rooney or Karl Ravech not only using an adjective to describe the verb "walk", but compounding the offense by using the adjective "real" to describe the adjective-masquerading-as-an-adverb "quiet" (the "-like" is added as an unconscious admission that "quiet" is the wrong form to use).
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