Reaper16
11-20-2009, 04:29 PM
http://www.stltoday.com/stltoday/sports/columnists.nsf/bryanburwell/story/3C87D5BC1B0134E8862576740017024D?OpenDocument
By Bryan Burwell (bburwell@post-dispatch.com)
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
11/20/2009
Of all the many mysteries surrounding our national pastime, none is more baffling than the rather peculiar obsession by so many who profess a love of baseball who repeatedly try to turn this wonderfully simple game into a mind-numbing, highfalutin' brain twister.
So someone is going to have to help me on this one.
When did pitching victories become passé?
Apparently I have been misled for all these years. Here I was thinking that guys who win 18, 19, 20 or 25 games were some kind of special. I always figured that a guy who was able to go out on the mound every five days and pretty much guarantee his team a victory was one of those Cy Young-type hurlers everyone dreams about. Now I find out that I am wrong. Baseball's new wave of deep thinkers and pseudo-intellectuals have told me so loud and clear with the voting in this year's Cy Young awards. <script language="javascript" type="text/javascript"> <!-- // begin DisplayAds("Frame1","",""); // --> </script>
What was my greatest fear in the past is now upon us. Armed with their "advanced metrics" and clutching their spread sheets, the new-age baseball voters have officially taken over the sport both in the front offices and behind the scenes. Baseball's seamheads have won the battle — and I fear are about to forever dominate the old-school vs. new-school war — with the results of this year's Cy Young voting.
Victories are irrelevant, or at the very least now considered the most grossly overrated statistic available when it comes to evaluating pitchers. I know this now because the National League (Tim Lincecum) and American League (Zack Greinke) Cy Young winners were respectively only 15- and 16-game winners.
Particularly in the NL voting, I am taken aback, because two voters — ESPN.com's Keith Law and Will Carroll of Baseball Prospectus — did not include Chris Carpenter on their ballots. Law also had the NL's winningest pitcher, Adam Wainwright (19-8), in third place on his ballot behind Lincecum (15-7) and Javier Vazquez (15-10). And apparently all of baseball geekdom is perfectly cool with this.
I am not particularly outraged by any of this, but I am confused.
Look, I think Lincecum is a heck of a pitcher, arguably the most gifted hurler in baseball. But I always thought the Cy Young was intended to honor the pitcher with the best season, not necessarily to reward the guy who has the best stuff.
And up until Thursday, I kept hearing from folks with far more baseball knowledge than mine that this was a three-man race in the NL between Carpenter, Lincecum and Wainwright. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had since the middle of August with any number of Cy Young voters who were all wrestling mightily with trying to sort through the merits of this talented trio. I was under the belief that Lincecum, Carpenter and Wainwright had dramatically and definitively separated themselves from the pack.
But sometimes I guess we get guys who just feel like it's their job to show everyone how much smarter they are than the rest of us. Armed with all their sabermetrics, Carroll and Law — and obviously a lot of other voters — were able to determine that winning the most games in the heat of a pennant push was not nearly as important as looking good while losing.
If I lived in Dallas I would have a problem with this NL vote, so don't tell me I'm a homer. And as evidence of that, please refer to my NL manager of the year ballot where I voted for Colorado's Jim Tracy over Tony La Russa with no hesitation (La Russa was second on my ballot).
So here's what I still don't get. How can you look at what Wainwright did from a won-loss standpoint and essentially dismiss it in favor of Lincecum? As gifted a pitcher as Lincecum clearly is, he faltered down the stretch when his team was in the playoff hunt. In his last 10 starts, the San Francisco ace was only 3-4 with a 3.15 ERA. I'm sorry, but that has to mean something, doesn't it? If won-loss records are suddenly obsolete, why do we bother to keep the stat?
Now look at what Wainwright and Carpenter did. Let's start with Wainwright, who had the most wins in the NL with his 19-8 record. In games that he started, the Cards won 23 contests. Over the final three months of the season, Wainwright had an 11-3 record with a stunning 1.90 ERA. In Wainwright's last 11 starts, the Cards lost one game. All of this was done in the heat of a push to the postseason.
Carpenter was equally dominant, with a 10-1 record (2.06 ERA) in his last 15 starts after the all-star break, and the team won 18 games when he was a starter.
So tell me again, why is winning not an important stat anymore?
It makes me feel like they're either trying to out-think themselves or justify their sabermetric fascinations when I hear people tell me that a pitcher's victories aren't all that important.
Victories aren't important?
In the immortal words of that noted sports philosopher Herm Edwards:
"This is what's great about sports. This is what the greatest thing about sports is. You play to win the game. Hello? You play to win the game. You don't play it to just play it. That's the great thing about sports: You play to win, and I don't care if you don't have any wins. You go play to win. When you start tellin' me it doesn't matter, then retire. Get out! 'Cause it matters."
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
By Bryan Burwell (bburwell@post-dispatch.com)
ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
11/20/2009
Of all the many mysteries surrounding our national pastime, none is more baffling than the rather peculiar obsession by so many who profess a love of baseball who repeatedly try to turn this wonderfully simple game into a mind-numbing, highfalutin' brain twister.
So someone is going to have to help me on this one.
When did pitching victories become passé?
Apparently I have been misled for all these years. Here I was thinking that guys who win 18, 19, 20 or 25 games were some kind of special. I always figured that a guy who was able to go out on the mound every five days and pretty much guarantee his team a victory was one of those Cy Young-type hurlers everyone dreams about. Now I find out that I am wrong. Baseball's new wave of deep thinkers and pseudo-intellectuals have told me so loud and clear with the voting in this year's Cy Young awards. <script language="javascript" type="text/javascript"> <!-- // begin DisplayAds("Frame1","",""); // --> </script>
What was my greatest fear in the past is now upon us. Armed with their "advanced metrics" and clutching their spread sheets, the new-age baseball voters have officially taken over the sport both in the front offices and behind the scenes. Baseball's seamheads have won the battle — and I fear are about to forever dominate the old-school vs. new-school war — with the results of this year's Cy Young voting.
Victories are irrelevant, or at the very least now considered the most grossly overrated statistic available when it comes to evaluating pitchers. I know this now because the National League (Tim Lincecum) and American League (Zack Greinke) Cy Young winners were respectively only 15- and 16-game winners.
Particularly in the NL voting, I am taken aback, because two voters — ESPN.com's Keith Law and Will Carroll of Baseball Prospectus — did not include Chris Carpenter on their ballots. Law also had the NL's winningest pitcher, Adam Wainwright (19-8), in third place on his ballot behind Lincecum (15-7) and Javier Vazquez (15-10). And apparently all of baseball geekdom is perfectly cool with this.
I am not particularly outraged by any of this, but I am confused.
Look, I think Lincecum is a heck of a pitcher, arguably the most gifted hurler in baseball. But I always thought the Cy Young was intended to honor the pitcher with the best season, not necessarily to reward the guy who has the best stuff.
And up until Thursday, I kept hearing from folks with far more baseball knowledge than mine that this was a three-man race in the NL between Carpenter, Lincecum and Wainwright. I can't tell you how many conversations I've had since the middle of August with any number of Cy Young voters who were all wrestling mightily with trying to sort through the merits of this talented trio. I was under the belief that Lincecum, Carpenter and Wainwright had dramatically and definitively separated themselves from the pack.
But sometimes I guess we get guys who just feel like it's their job to show everyone how much smarter they are than the rest of us. Armed with all their sabermetrics, Carroll and Law — and obviously a lot of other voters — were able to determine that winning the most games in the heat of a pennant push was not nearly as important as looking good while losing.
If I lived in Dallas I would have a problem with this NL vote, so don't tell me I'm a homer. And as evidence of that, please refer to my NL manager of the year ballot where I voted for Colorado's Jim Tracy over Tony La Russa with no hesitation (La Russa was second on my ballot).
So here's what I still don't get. How can you look at what Wainwright did from a won-loss standpoint and essentially dismiss it in favor of Lincecum? As gifted a pitcher as Lincecum clearly is, he faltered down the stretch when his team was in the playoff hunt. In his last 10 starts, the San Francisco ace was only 3-4 with a 3.15 ERA. I'm sorry, but that has to mean something, doesn't it? If won-loss records are suddenly obsolete, why do we bother to keep the stat?
Now look at what Wainwright and Carpenter did. Let's start with Wainwright, who had the most wins in the NL with his 19-8 record. In games that he started, the Cards won 23 contests. Over the final three months of the season, Wainwright had an 11-3 record with a stunning 1.90 ERA. In Wainwright's last 11 starts, the Cards lost one game. All of this was done in the heat of a push to the postseason.
Carpenter was equally dominant, with a 10-1 record (2.06 ERA) in his last 15 starts after the all-star break, and the team won 18 games when he was a starter.
So tell me again, why is winning not an important stat anymore?
It makes me feel like they're either trying to out-think themselves or justify their sabermetric fascinations when I hear people tell me that a pitcher's victories aren't all that important.
Victories aren't important?
In the immortal words of that noted sports philosopher Herm Edwards:
"This is what's great about sports. This is what the greatest thing about sports is. You play to win the game. Hello? You play to win the game. You don't play it to just play it. That's the great thing about sports: You play to win, and I don't care if you don't have any wins. You go play to win. When you start tellin' me it doesn't matter, then retire. Get out! 'Cause it matters."
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH