We're less than two months into the season, and one team has been, in the Nachoman's eyes at least, eliminated from playoff contention. How's that, you say? Take a look at the Baseball Prospectus playoff odds . A computer "plays" each remaining game in the season and computes the final standings. Then the computer does the same thing for another pretend season. Then again and again, a total of a million times. Of those million pretend seasons, the Nationals have made the playoffs just 53,000 times, or 0.5 % of the time.
I call that "effectively eliminated." Why? Baseball in something resembling its current form has been around for just over 100 years. The probabilities computed by BP suggest that the Nationals have well less than one chance in 100 of making the playoffs. My conclusion: the Gnats ain't making the playoffs without a Moses-level miracle.
At the other end of the spectrum, the Dodgers are listed at a 96% chance of making the playoffs, best in the league. What's most surprising: the early-season darling Pirates still have a 9% chance of making it; and both the Royals and the Reds are still in the 20-30% range. Moses level miracle, indeed.
Do you spit in the gruel of your most bitter rival if you can?
The ACC baseball tournament has an unusual structure. The eight qualifying teams are split into two pools. Each pool plays one game against each team in the pool; the winners of each pool face off in a championship game.
With four teams in a pool and only three games to play, it’s highly likely that two teams tie for the top spot in the pool. The tiebreaking procedures are reasonable: If two teams tie, then the head-to-head victor advances. If three teams tie, then the best regular season conference record among the teams gets to the title game.
On Saturday afternoon, the last day of pool play produced a strange situation. At 4:00, Clemson took on North Carolina. Clemson was out of it, at 0-2. North Carolina, 1-1, had to win in order to have any chance of advancing. At 8:00, Duke at 1-1 was to play pool leader Virginia, 2-0. A UVA win obviously put them in the title game. But if Duke were to win on Saturday night, then craziness would ensue.
Carolina had the best regular season record. So, if they, Duke, and UVA all tied at 2-1, Carolina would advance. Look at the timing of the games: the Tar Heels played first. If they won, then Duke would have no prayer of advancing, but must beat UVA for Carolina to advance.
Now, one might expect that a team tries to win in all circumstances. And I do not believe that the Blue Devils would ever purposely lose. But remember the bitter blood feud that exists between UNC and Duke. Knowing that a loss hands UNC the championship, and that a win would be meaningless, might they subconsciously give less than their best effort?
(It turned out to be a mute point, as UNC lost in extra innings in the 4:00 game. Virginia beat Duke to advance to the ACC championship game.)
Why was there a 30 minute no-rain delay in Florida on Sunday?
At the scheduled start time of 1:10 PM, the tarp at Wayne Huizenga’s “It Was Good Enough For Baseball When We Lobbied For An Expansion Team” Stadium still sat on the field. I didn’t expect the game to start on time, because the weather forecast on Yahoo indicated a tornado warning in north-central Dade County, which is the approximate location of the stadium. Nevertheless, the forecast was clear for the rest of the day, and no rain had fallen in the stadium all day. Finally, at about 1:15, the grounds crew began to pull the tarp off the field; the game started at 1:40 or so.
So, why did the game start late if no rain ever fell? The turf at IWGEFBWWLFANET stadium drains extraordinarily well. Knowing that clearing skies were approaching, the tarp could have been left off for warm-ups pending the actual arrival of actual rain.
Problem was, the Marlins bullpen was completely burned out from long outings on the previous couple of days. They couldn’t afford the possibility of their pitcher having to come out of the game due to rain in the second inning. Since the home team, not the umpires, determines whether conditions are suitable to start the game, the Marlins chose to avoid even the remote chance of their starter being forced out of the game early.
And the best way to avoid walks is to throw strikes
I was on dorm duty on Tuesday, during which I watched the Reds-Astros game. Nonetheless, I still had responsibilities as the duty master for the evening. As I walked around the dorm around lunchtime, I found two rooms that smelled really bad. To the residents’ credit, they tried to do something about the odor: they opened their doors and turned on several fans. One person even put some kind of perfume near the fan. While I appreciated the effort to remove the smell, I had to turn off the fans, as fans in unoccupied rooms are considered a fire hazard.
Both rooms had full garbage cans, even after the fans had been on much of the day.
The residents looked at me with interest when I noted that the best way to avoid a smelly room is to keep the trash emptied. This was new, world-changing information.
Oswalt’s meltdown
On Tuesday, for only the7th time in his career, Roy Oswalt walked a batter with the bases loaded. And for only the second time in history, Mr. Oswalt took the loss against the Cincinnati Reds.
Every hit a pitcher ever gave up was the result of a pitch “out over the plate.”[1]
Jeff Brantley: “That’s [Felipe] Paulino’s problem, elevating the baseball.”
Mr. Paulino had just given up a home run to Jay Bruce. The first replay showed the catcher presenting a target above the waist. So Mr. Brantley did a MacCarver:
“Yes, his catcher wanted the ball elevated in this case, but look where that pitch was.” [Brantley drew a line on telestrator.] “Here’s where the catcher wants the ball, WAY up there, and here’s where the pitch is.”
The replay ran... The pitch hit the catcher’s glove right on top of the line drawn by Mr. Brantley, meaning that the pitch essentially hit the target. But Brantley continued with his Bush Administration science: “See he elevated the ball, but not enough. The ball ended up out over the plate.”
Later, on a swinging bunt, Willie Taveras raced toward first base. The throw from the catcher was well wide of first base, allowing Mr. Taveras to reach third base. The Astros protested that Taveras had run out of the three-foot running lane, and thus should be called out for interference.[2]The 2003 Iraqi Foreign Minister made an appearance in the guise of Jeff Brantley, who said “[Taveras is running] on the line.” No he wasn’t. Replay clearly showed Taveras’ feet never touched the white baseline.
Nevertheless
See, for some stupid reason I like Brantley. He’s not afraid to say what he thinks, even when he’s wrong. Sometimes he’s even right. For example, he talked about Jay Bruce. “When he came into the big leagues, he was surrounded by guys who were only concerned with hitting the ball out of the ballpark. Now those two guys are gone. He’s adjusting his approach, because now he’s surrounded by guys who know there’s more to offensive baseball than crushing home runs.”
Now, one could argue with Mr. Brantley about Bruce’s approach to offensive baseball, but it’s about time that someone took Mssrs. Dunn and Griffey to task publicly for the way they played the game.
Then, he suggested that “a team learns a lot about itself through its mistakes. This ballclub got swept in San Diego, and it was an utter embarrassment. Sometimes that’s the best way to come together as a team, to be utterly embarrassed.” Right on! On one hand, the repeated references to teamwork and inter-team relationships has an almost Joe Morgan-like feel; but attitude has more of an effect on baseball teams than many Sabermatricians like to admit, and Mr. Brantley’s insights are occasionally useful.
Brantley kind of reminds me of Joe Nuxhall (RIP), who would have flunked out of broadcast school. No one was a better foil for Marty Brennaman, though. Nuxhall’s folksy delivery, his knowledge of and place in Reds history, and his storytelling made up for his deficiencies in his fundamentals, at least for Reds fans. I can say the some of the same things about “Cowboy” Jeff Brantley.
Replay Fiasco, only three months into the replay system
On Wednesday night in New York, Met Daniel Murphy hit a long fly ball to right field. Adam Dunn, who patrols right field as Frank Drebin patrols Los Angeles, gave up on what he thought to be a sure home run. But the ball landed in the field of play, hitting the top of the fence on one bounce. Mr. Dunn recovered from his surprise, threw back to the infield, and managed to nail a baserunner at home plate.
BUT WAIT! The Mets asked for a replay review, the fourth review in a Mets game in five days. Three umpires headed for the replay room. Six excruciating minutes later, the umpires reversed themselves and awarded Mr. Murphy a tiebreaking and eventually game deciding home run.
On Wednesday night, the Atlanta Cracker wrote to me asking my thoughts.
Sayeth the Nachoman (who didn’t see the play, but watched it on a small-screen highlight):
I didn't at first realize this was a replay review. I thought the umpires just got together to sort it out. If a non-calling umpire had a better angle, then the crew generally would defer to him. Furthermore, if the calling umpire wasn’t totally sure, better to let play go and THEN ask for help than to call a mistaken home run.
Sayeth the Atlanta Cracker:
Yes, it was a replay review. But I'm more interested in what you think of the physics of it. Look at it again and tell me if you think it's physically possible for that ball to hit the Subway sign, then bounce on the field and bounce up high against the wall. I say no, and I think that should have been something the umpires considered. But I bet they just looked at the video around the sign itself and decided that they thought it hit the sign.
Nachoman:
Yes, it's physically possible. I see it now ('cause I got it in high def). The "Pepsi Porch," as I learned when I first watched a game from Ponzi Scheme Field, hangs out OVER the playing surface. It's like old tiger stadium. You hit the "Pepsi Porch," it's a home run.
AC:
I don't think you're understanding my objection. The two MASN announcers debated this, and I actually think one of them had a fairly good idea of the physics involved. The other one seemed clueless.
I realize the porch hangs out over the field. The objection is that a ball that hits the porch would at best (if the collision is fairly inelastic) fall straight down or, more likely (if the collision is more elastic) bounce back towards the infield. It would not fall to the ground and then bounce towards the wall. Look at it again. The trajectory of the hit is very high, which is why I think the umpires guessed it could have hit the Subway sign and fallen down without bouncing back towards the infield much. Fine. But look at how it bounces off the field and then high up off the wall. The only way it could have bounced like that is either by not hitting the "Pepsi Porch" at all or by just barely skimming the bottom edge of it---and of course there's no way to tell from the video if the ball just barely skims the bottom edge.
NM:
Yes, I see... I had the SNY announcers. But I think you kind of agree with my point: if the Porch were not hanging over the field, then the trajectory you indicate would be impossible. But with the porch in front of the fence, then the ball can maintain some momentum toward the wall after the collision, and still bounce further toward the wall. I am thinking precisely of a collision that you would describe as "skimming" the bottom part of the sign.
AC:
OK, but only with the "skimming" collision, right? Is there any way the ball could smack the face of the sign, come down, and then because of some sort of spin from the collision bounce like that towards the wall? I can't imagine it happening, but I could be wrong.
So basically, what the umpires were saying is that the video review shows indisputably that the ball barely skimmed the sign. What a crock.
NM:
You're right, the video is inconclusive from every angle I saw. And the umpires should take physics into account, of course.
By the way, the plate umpire was Sam Holbrook, one of the Wendelstedt School instructors. He has a masters degree... in sports administration. And he didn't look at the replay.
AC:
Interesting. Why would one umpire sit out the replay session? I assume that's standard procedure, not just that he didn't feel like going over to look.
NM:
I think the idea is to keep one umpire in case something untoward happens... like a fight, or someone stealing bases (Lou Pinella style, not Ricky Henderson style).
AC:
Two other points:
#1: The MASN announcers were all over the first-base umpire, to the point that they were suggesting he look into a new line of work. It was really harsh and completely unwarranted, as far as I could see. Apparently they had some complaints about a call from a previous night, but last night it came down to stuff like any time a close call didn't go Washington's way, who was responsible? That umpire, of course!
#2: The MASN sideline reporter actually went up to the "Pepsi Porch" to talk to the Mets fans there about the disputed HR, and they were in agreement that the Mets got a gift there---none of them thought the ball hit the sign.
NM:
You’ve hit on the Nachoman’s entire objection to instant replay, in all sports, not just baseball. Replay exists to rectify obvious errors of judgment. If a call cannot be reversed using one quick look from each camera angle, then the “error or judgment” was in no way “obvious,” nor was it necessarily an “error.” If anyone can say, with even a shred of credibility, “I looked at the replay, and I still wasn’t sure whether the official was right or wrong,” then the call on the field has to stand. Unfortunately, that’s not how replay has actually worked in practice in college basketball, college and pro football, and now baseball. All replay has done in these sports is prolong the already interminable games, interrupt their flow, and cause more arguments than they’ve settled.
Next week:
Amid widespread calls for improving the quality of the Nachoman’s officiating, the Woodberry Athletic Department spends 2/3 of their remaining budget installing an instant replay system for intramural flag football.
[1] The following are approximate quotations written down immediately after I heard them. I don’t claim word-for-word accuracy, but the gist is correct.
[2] The umpires correctly ruled no interference. Since the throw was nowhere near Mr. Taveras, then he could not have hindered the fielder taking the throw at first base. If he doesn’t interfere with a throw to first, a runner can go to first on any path he wants.
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