Baseball Writers STILL Don't Get It

Steve Henson of Yahoo Sports is the latest baseball scribe to write an article about criminally overpaid San Francisco Giants pitcher Barry Zito based on the false premise that Zito was ever an elite Major League pitcher. In his article, Mr. Henson claims that Zito, whose spot in the team's postseason rotation has been taken by a 21-year-old rookie being paid $250,000, was signed to his ludicrous $126 million contract "based on his mostly seven stellar seasons with the Oakland Athletics." Furthermore, Henson falsely asserts, Zito stopped pitching well "upon collecting paychecks from the Giants."

Both of those claims are patently untrue, as I pointed out in painstaking detail back in this 2008 blog entry during spring training:

http://argyleghost.blogspot.com/2008/03/barry-zito-poster-child-for-medias-need.html

Mr. Henson's Yahoo article all-too-predictably comes with the obligatory picture of the still young, handsome and white Mr. Zito. After all, as I pointed out over two years ago, those were the real qualities for which the Giants organization paid so dearly before the start of the 2007 season.

Sadly, baseball writers - even with all evidence to the contrary at their disposal - still mistake "young, handsome and white" for "outstanding and consistent," which begs the question: if they don't understand this fallacy now, will they ever understand it?

Showboat Virus

Look at the two pictures below:

What the hell is going on in college football?!? Does anybody coach these stupid kids any more? Seriously. If I were the head coach of either one of these knuckleheads I would make them run stadium steps for two straight hours, followed by an afternoon of washing every teammate's jock strap by hand, and then capped off with a night of writing "I will not celebrate a touchdown as long as I attend this university" 1,000 times on the chalkboard in my office.


That's how offensive these mistakes are to me, and I hope they are almost as offensive to each of these players' coaches. There is simply no excuse whatsoever to be so focused on celebrating your touchdown that you forget to finish it.


For the record, both of these morons got very lucky: in both cases the referees were actually worse than the players and didn't even notice the infractions, both of which should have resulted in touchbacks for the opposing teams.

Murray Rizberg’s Super Bowl Prediction (whatever that’s worth . . .)

Personally, I think predicting most Super Bowls is an utter waste of time, which makes me the most qualified guy on the planet to be writing this, of course. Now, I say that predicting the Super Bowl is waste of time because it usually pits two teams that are, at least on paper, fairly evenly matched. Sure there are exceptions: did anybody really believe that the wildcard Patriots had any chance of defeating the Super Bowl-shuffling Bears in 1986 or the extraordinarily average 2000 Giants could score enough (or any) points to defeat the Baltimore Ravens and its ridiculously dominant defense? God I hope not. Despite a history full of blowouts, the Super Bowl usually has fielded two teams that appear quite competitive based on the regular season. Sure, most people expected the San Francisco 49ers to defeat the Denver Broncos in Super Bowl XXIV, but I can assure almost nobody saw the 49ers putting up 55 points on a Denver team that had allowed a meager 14 points per game during the regular season; similarly, anybody who says he predicted Doug Williams would throw four touchdowns in one quarter and that Timmy Smith would run for 204 yards against those same Broncos a year earlier is, simply put, full of poo-poo.

Thus we arrive at the enormously pointless task of predicting this year’s Super Bowl featuring the AFC Champion Indianapolis Colts and the NFC Champion New Orleans Saints. As usual, these teams appear evenly matched on paper: The Saints ranked first in points scored (32.8 ppg, twelfth-most in NFL history) while the Colts finished less than a touchdown behind in seventh (26 ppg); on the other side of the ball the Colts ranked eighth in points allowed (19.2 ppg) while the Saints allowed only two points more per game at twentieth (21.3 ppg). Based on those numbers alone, one would give the Saints an edge since they outscored their opponents by an average of 11.5 points per game to the Colts’ 6.8-point difference. The only problem with basing anything on that statistic should be obvious: the Colts more-or-less tanked their last two games and were outscored by an average of 18.6 ppg (the Saints rested their starters in the last week of the season and were outscored by thirteen points; the difference, however, is that the Saints were not favored to beat the red-hot Carolina Panthers anyway).

A closer look at each team’s offense offers no good basis for predicting the game’s outcome, either. While both teams have elite passing attacks, the Saints clearly have the more complete and more versatile offense: the Saints ranked fourth in passing offense and sixth in rushing offense while the Colts ranked second in passing offense and dead last in rushing offense. Under most normal circumstances I would put plenty of stock in this difference, but the Colts are a strange case. For instance, the Colts ranked dead last in regular season rushing defense three years ago – and then proceeded to shut down every opponent’s rushing attack (including holding NFL rushing leader Larry Johnson to a paltry thirty-two yards on thirteen carries) en route to winning the Super Bowl. In the AFC Championship game, the Colts’ supposedly anemic running game found a way to out-run the Jets’ NFL-best running game, 101-86. Most people are asking this question as a result of that Championship game: how did the Colts run for twenty yards more than their regular season average – against the NFL’s eighth-ranked rushing defense no less? I, on the other hand, think a better question is this: how did a team with as much talent as the Colts not rush for over a hundred yards more often during the regular season? The offensive line, while not spectacular, is definitely above average, and Joseph Addai, when healthy (his fragility is well-documented), is a tenacious and shifty runner. On paper, there’s no legitimate reason this team ever should have finished dead last in rushing in 2009 (and second-to-last in 2008, for that matter). A part of me suspects that Peyton Manning – much like Sean Payton did in 2008 – gave up on the running game too quickly; then again, if you’re as efficient as Peyton Manning, why wouldn’t you call a ton of audibles and take matters into your own hands? Whatever the Colts and/or Peyton Manning decide to call in the Super Bowl, it seems reasonable to expect Joseph Addai will play a much larger and much more successful role than he did in the regular season, especially against a Saints defense that is vulnerable to the run.

The Saints’ rushing attack, meanwhile, averaged fifty more yards per game than the Colts’ did in the regular season. With the Colts’ defense putting the clamps down on its previous two opponents – both of whom ranked higher than the Saints in rushing – it is reasonable to expect the Saints not to run wild over the Colts. What does all this rushing analysis amount to? My guess is that each team is going to finish with between 100-130 rushing yards, meaning neither team has a clear advantage in this predictor, either.

Just as a comparison of the offenses revealed no real clues to help predict the outcome of this game, a similar examination of each team’s defense offers no clues as well. By official NFL rankings – which are based on yardage allowed rather than points allowed – the Colts and Saints ranked 18th and 25th, respectively. Seven spots in a league as competitive as the NFL means virtually nothing, so a closer look is required. The accepted wisdom by experts (both legitimate and alleged) and fans alike is that Indianapolis clearly has the superior defense; a closer examination, however, reveals that such wisdom might not be so wise. For example, it is commonly accepted that the Colts have a decided edge in its ability to put pressure on the opposing team’s quarterback because of bookends Robert Mathis and Dwight Freeney. The numbers, however, tell a different story: the Colts had one less sack than the Saints did during the regular season (35-34). Mathis and Freeney accounted for 23 of the Colts’ 34 sacks; the Saints’ sacks are spread out much more evenly: after Will Smith’s team-leading 13.5 sacks – which just happens to be the same amount the celebrated Freeney had – the next highest number of sacks recorded by an individual Saints player is 5.5, recorded by Charles Grant, who will not be playing in the game. Why is this comparison important? For one, the Colts’ pass defense is somewhat dependant upon the ends’ abilities to put pressure on the quarterback; clearly, if an offensive line can stop Mathis and Freeney, it can give its quarterback plenty of time to dissect the Colts’ secondary – and we all know what Drew Brees and the Saints receiving corps can do when it has plenty of time, even when there are plenty of defenders in the secondary. If Mathis and Freeney – who is battling a severe ankle injury and may not have the same burst that makes him such a headache for opposing tackles – cannot put pressure on Brees (the way DeMarcus Ware and Anthony Spencer of Dallas did, for instance), then the Colts might have to bring more pressure from the linebackers and secondary, which in turn would give Sean Payton and Drew Brees a better chance of finding a mismatch with one (or more) of its talented receiving options.

Defensively, most of the talk leading up to the game has been the same: the Colts are underrated and the Saints are rated fairly accurately. All available evidence, however, says that the Saints’ defense is underrated as well – and, as such, is actually more underrated than the Colts’ defense. (In fact, maybe I’m crazy, but when something is considered underrated by more than half of the population, doesn’t that logically make it overrated? But I digress.) Before the Saints’ defense lost three of its starters – including both cornerbacks (Jabari Greer and Tracy Porter) – it was ranked in the top fifteen NFL defenses; only during this injury-riddled phase did the unit sink to the mid-twenties, where it ended the season. Clearly Greer and Porter are two of the most important pieces in defensive coordinator Gregg Williams' super-agressive style of play-calling, and now both players are healthy and starting in the Super Bowl. Nonetheless, even before those injuries, this defense gave up plenty of yardage, much more than most teams that make it all the way to the Super Bowl. For once, conventional wisdom is correct: this defensive unit has relied heavily upon creating turnovers, which is something no defense can rely upon when trying to prevent Peyton Manning from putting up points. As good as Greer and Porter have been all season long – the only touchdown given up by the duo came on a pass interference by Atlanta’s Roddy White that an official standing five feet away somehow missed – the Saints linebackers are the ones who will face the most pressure to stop a Colts offense that does not rely solely on its first and second receivers to drive down field. Frankly, I’m not sure the Saints’ outside linebackers can stop the Colts' most deadly weapon, which happens to be tight end Dallas Clark. The bottom line – again – is that each of these defenses has glaring weaknesses that should be exploited by their opposing offenses.

In the other two important aspects, New Orleans has a slight edge in its special teams while neither team’s coaching staff seems vastly superior to the other. While special teams play can make a huge difference in any game, the odds dictate that it simply won’t – unless a late field goal is needed to win it, in which case both teams are in capable hands – so the Saints’ edge in this category does not give them much separation. The coaching staffs are both top-notch and will be very well-prepared for this game, so neither team gets and advantage here, either.

So where does this leave my prediction? Well, I just happen to have a Florida state quarter in my pocket that I will now flip nine times, with each heads landing representing a Colts touchdown and each tails landing representing a Saints touchdown. Seriously, isn’t this just as logical a predictor as anything else?

Final score: Saints 38 (five tails + one field goal), Colts 31 (four heads + one field goal).

OK, for the LAST time -

USC did not freakin' win the National Championship in 2004 as the caption on that picture indicates; LSU won it. The official national champion is the winner of the BCS Championship Game - as agreed upon by many influential groups of people including college football coaches such as Pete Carroll - and in 2004 the winner of that game was LSU, which defeated Oklahoma 21-14. Furthermore, USC won its only true national title in 2005, not 2003, as that caption indicates. Has the recession completely obliterated the need for fact-checkers and editors?

Anyway, the mainstream media's adoring obsession with Pete Carroll and his USC regime are typical of its biggest flaw: instead of performing its true task of passing on information, it instead creates a storyline (Pete Carroll's genius) and fits facts (USC's 2005 national championship) and non-facts (USC's 2004 "national championship," which should technically be listed as "USC's first-place finish in the 2004 AP poll" - and nothing more) to support that storyline.

So, mainstream media, for the last time, here are the facts: USC won only one official national championship in Pete Carroll's nine years there (2005); in 2004 it was awarded the top spot in the Associated Press writers' poll, but finished the season as the runner-up to LSU in the official national championship system. Therefore it is technically incorrect to state that Pete Carroll won two national championships during his time at USC. Is that really so difficult to grasp?

Oh, and here's one more fact: I am most certainly not an LSU fan; I am, however, a devoted fan of accuracy.

Dear Mr. Shaughnessy: In what universe is Jack Morris a better pitcher than Curt Schilling?

While I agree with almost everything you wrote in the Edgar Martinez column [http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2010/writers/dan_shaughnessy/01/04/edgar.martinez/index.html], I simply cannot accept your blasé assessment that Jack Morris was better than Curt Schilling. Why? Because it is patently untrue to the point that I am forced to ask: do you know even the slightest bit about these two pitchers' careers?!?

Jack Morris pitched in a much more pitcher-friendly era than did Curt Schilling, whose prime coincided with the "Steroid Era" (which also partially overlaps the "Let's-Build-Little-League-Ballparks-And-Play-Major-League-Games-In- Them Era"). Furthermore, Jack Morris remained almost injury-free his entire career; Curt Schilling, on the other hand, lost a significant amount of games to injury in three seasons (and three more if you count the seasons he made only twenty-four starts). On top of those two advantages, Jack Morris pitched for teams that were more competitive than the teams for which Curt Schilling pitched. So, with all those advantages, how does Jack Morris compare to Curt Schilling? Well, he does have thirty-eight more wins than Schilling; but, then again, he started ninety-one more games than Schilling did – on more competitive teams in a more pitcher-friendly era, remember? OK, but wins aren't everything; let's look at other statistics. ERA: Morris is at 3.90, Schilling 3.46. So not only did Schilling allow fewer earned runs per nine innings in his career, he did it in an era of juiced up players and slimmed down ballparks. Strikeouts? Morris had 638 fewer strikeouts in 563 more innings. OK, but how many guys did Schilling put on base compared to Morris? Hmm . . . let' see: Morris walked 1,390 to Schilling's 711. It stands to reason, then, that Morris's career WHIP – 1.30 – does not measure up to Schilling's career WHIP of 1.14.

OK, the regular season is one thing, but what about the postseason? Well, Morris did have that unbelievable Game 7 in the 1991 World Series; but Schilling's two starts with the injured ankle in the 2004 postseason are at least equal to Morris's 1991 Game 7 start in terms of stature (you gotta give it to Schilling there: the man risked his career to win a couple of games for the Red Sox). Morris's 1984 postseason with the Tigers was remarkable as well, winning all three starts while posting a 1.80 ERA. Schilling's 2001 postseason, however, tops Morris's outstanding effort in 1984: six starts, four wins (with no losses) and a ridiculous 1.13 ERA. Throw in Schilling's 1993 performance for the Phillies – four starts (1-1 record) with a 2.61 ERA – versus Jack Morris's 1992 performance for the Blue Jays – four starts (0-3 record) with a 7.43 ERA – and Schilling was clearly the more dominant postseason pitcher as well.

So, after all of that evidence, Mr. Shaughnessy, I must ask again: do you know even the slightest bit about these two pitchers' careers? I suspect one of two things here: 1) You actually didn't know anything about their careers until just now (which seems unlikely since you’ve been writing about baseball since I was in diapers) or, more likely 2) You did know about these two pitchers' careers, but instead allowed your obvious dislike for Schilling to get in the way of your judgment (a dislike, mind you, that I share but don't let interfere with my judgment)? More importantly, after all of the evidence presented here, do you still believe Jack Morris was a better pitcher than Curt Schilling?

Please. There's a very good reason Jack Morris never finished higher than third in the Cy Young balloting: he was a very good – and occasionally dominant – pitcher who won plenty of games for consistently competitive teams while Curt Schilling, for all his bombast and self-glorification, was unquestionably the better, more consistently dominant pitcher who, for the most of his career, just happened to have pitched for less competitive teams.

Any thoughts, Mr. Shaughnessy?

Sincerely,

Murray Rizberg