David Wadler’s Assorted Thoughts

The recent revelations of steroid abuse by baseball stars Jason Giambi and Barry Bonds has not been surprising as much as it has been affirming. Bonds began the 2000 season at age 36 with a new body and new power. At an age when even superstars typically find themselves on the decline, the Giants’ left fielder would begin the most prolific four-season run in the history of baseball. And despite Bonds’s offers (”They can test me any time they want.”) and claims that he had built his body by working harder than anyone else, the public looked on with as much suspicion as awe.

After reports of Bonds’s admissions made it to the public, we are left to cast a skeptical eye on his new claims.

1. He didn’t know that he was taking steroids and other illegal performance-enhancing drugs.
2. “If it’s a steroid, it’s not working.”

It would be a stretch to believe that a man who has made a living — even before beginning his steroid regimen — by keeping his body in tip-top condition would not know what he was putting into his body. This is a man, who by most accounts, practically lived at the gym, hired a personal chef, and vigorously defended the privacy of his workouts for fear of sharing his weight-training secrets with other players. Although it’s not out of the realm of possibility, it’s well beyond the confines of probability. Besides, this is the same Barry Bonds who, for many years, insisted that he was clean. For a bit more on this excuse, check out Dave Anderson’s piece (and some of my father’s thoughts) in The New York Times.

To accept Bonds’s declaration that the steroids he took had no positive effect is to accept the fact that he hasn’t look in a mirror in several years. A well-conditioned athlete who trained and ate like he did would be fairly close to his genetic potential. How does one explain the addition of more than 40 lbs (almost all of it muscle) at an age when athletes experience a physical decline? The correct answer is likely the simplest one: steroids work.

There are those who argue that Bonds’s homerun numbers can be explained by his illegal performance enhancement regimen, but that his other improvements as a hitter are attributable solely to his natural ability. “Steroids don’t enhance your eyesight,” they say. No, but they can raise your batting average. For simplicity, let’s dismiss the fact that some long fly balls have turned into homeruns. Hitters typically enjoy their peak years between the ages of 28 and 31. At this age, a player has “figured things out” and is still in his physical prime. After this period, the decline in physical prowess begins and usually happens at a greater rate than the increase in mental acumen. Put plainly: a hitter can know what he wants to do, but lack the physical skills to do it. The use of illegal performance-enhancing drugs turns back the physical clock; a player can essentially have the mind of a seasoned 40-year-old veteran and the body of a 28-year-old slugger.

Baseball, like sprinting, is a sport where fractions of a second are significant. Just as the 100-meter dash can be decided by hundredths of a second, the success a hitter has at the plate hinges on his ability to strike a round, moving object that covers 60 feet in the blink of an eye. In fact, a hitter has but .4 seconds to see the pitch, decide whether to swing, and then get the bat to the hitting position. A hitter who can wait an extra 4/100s of a second would actually have 10% more time to calculate the type and location of the pitch. Of course, such a hitter would have to be strong enough to get accelerate the bat head so it’s in the right place at the right time. So the more explosive power one has, the longer one can wait before swinging. That means swinging at fewer bad pitches as well as greater success with pitches in the strike zone. The consequence would be a higher average.

It’s frustrating, but we’ll never be able to accurately quantify the effect of steroids on the performance of baseball players. There are just too many variables. What we do know is that the statistically aberrant offensive numbers posted in the last decade can now be viewed with more than suspicion. Indeed, dismay is probably the appropriate word.

From ESPN, leading purveyor of “the conventional wisdom” and located here.

Player: Tony Batista
Comment: “Quietly put together a great offensive season. Was especially effective after the All-Star break….”
Most inappropriate word: great
Second most inappropriate word: effective

Great
Of the 13 NL third basemen who had enough plate appearances to qualify for a ranking, Tony Batista found himself 12th in OPS. To include a few more players, I dropped the plate appearance requirement to 350. In the new list of 17 third baseman, Batista ranked 15th. In an effort to peer more deeply into the ol’ 3rd sacker’s greatness, I expanded the list to include NL players with qualifying plate appearances at any position. Tony’s ranking? 66 out of 78. And get this, Tony Batista ranked dead last in runs created per 27 outs. Have our standards fallen so far?

Effective
The word, “effective,” suggests that Batista has some impact on the result of the game that benefits his team. Perhaps this is true if one were to go by the parameters of whoever put together that list. However, as I see it, he hasn’t had an effective season in a few years. Batista’s best seasons could both be described as “good.” He posted solid numbers in both 1999 and 2000. Despite the thump in his bat, he doesn’t hit well enough to justify his starting job.

On September 27, 2004, the top two starting pitchers in the National League went head-to-head. The home team’s starter (PITCHER A) went 7 strong innings, allowing just 1 run while striking out 10 batters in earning the win. The losing pitcher (PITCHER B) also notched 7 innings, gave up just 1 earned run and whiffed 8. He was undone by his defense as he allowed 2 unearned runs.

These two pitchers dominated the league. What follows is a list of each pitchers NL ranking in a variety of pitching categories for the 2004 season.

           IP  WHIP  K  K/BB  ERA  Opp OPS  Win %  Run Sup
Pitcher A   2     1  1     2    2        1     28    41/45
Pitcher B   3     2  2     1    3        4     39    44/45
 

These two starters fairly dominated the National League in every significant pitching category except one — win percentage. Interestingly, win percentage is the only one of the statistics listed above that depends as much on how many runs are scored to support a pitcher as the number of runs that pitcher surrenders. In addition, a weak bullpen can certainly negatively impact a pitcher’s wins. In the case of these two aces, however, it’s clear that most of the blame lies with their teams’ (lack of) offensive performance.

           Run Support
Pitcher A        41/45
Pitcher B        44/45

Anyone who has ever listened to sports radio knows that the establishment — in virtually every sport — think certain players just”�know how to win.” Analysts cite intangibles, heart, grit, and myriad other non-quantifiable attributes that make certain players into winners. It is frequently this logic that leads “Joe from Staten Island” and “Chris from Queens” to announce confidently that each would rather have Derek Jeter than Barry Bonds. No matter that the latter’s numbers are other-worldly, he’s never won. On the other hand, where Derek Jeter is concerned, the numbers purportedly don’t tell the whole story. The analysis is simple: swap the performances of each player for the years in question. If you’d like to add a win to Jeter’s value because he plays a premium defensive position (although typically not too well), be my guest. If you think that Barry’s ornery personality is a drag on his clubhouse and costs his team a win or two every year, feel free to subtract from his value. What you’ll find is that the Yankees championship teams go from great to greater, while the Giants of the same vintage go from postseason contention to mediocrity.

Derek Jeter’s best attribute has always been the team assembled around him. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case for either of the pitcher described above. Who is going to win the NL Cy Young? Going into the last part of the season, I would have placed my money on San Francisco’s Jason Schmidt. He was dominant before sustaining an injury that led to his compiling a 5.53 ERA in September. In my estimation, the likely winner will be Roger Clemens, who at age 42, enjoyed an excellent season. He notched 18 wins against just 4 losses, maintained an ERA below 3.00 and fanned more than 200 batters. Although Clemens posted numbers worthy of consideration, I suspect that he wouldn’t be included in the conversation were he to have posted a record of 16-14 or 12-14. Those records belong to Pitcher A and Pitcher B respectively. Who are they? Randy Johnson and Ben Sheets. Johnson toiled for the Arizona Diamondbacks, a team that won the fewest games in the NL. Sheets could hardly call himself lucky though as his Milwaukee Brewers were the second most inept team in the NL. And for good measure, they played even worse when he took the mound.

Who should win the NL Cy Young? I don’t know that I can make a case for Johnson over Sheets or vice versa. Each was outstanding and their numbers are very close. I suppose if I were forced to choose, I would select Johnson as 1A and Sheets as 1B. Following them, I’d rank Schmidt, Clemens, Carlos Zambrano, Oliver Perez (worst Run Support in the NL), Roy Oswalt, and Jake Peavy.

Another rant on baseball writers — this one mercifully brief. Baseball writers, like all people, have their own set of beliefs. In order to reconcile actual outcomes with their projected outcomes, they often make the facts “work for them.” Typically this is done by using only the statistics that support their ideas about how baseball works, even if those statistics are not particularly telling or meaningful. (Think about how many times one closer or another has been praised and the number of saves he’s “earned” is cited as an indication of his success. Then think about the save rule….)

Though that may be frustrating to read, it�s much less so than an article that makes unsubstantiated statements of purported fact in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. If you were to tell me that Shawn Chacon had a solid year, pointing to his 35 saves as evidence, then I would disagree and highlight his 7.11 ERA and nearly 18 baserunners allowed per nine-innings in my counter-argument. However, when a writer makes the following assertion, �Matt Morris was a given and he stepped up his performance over the second half of the season,� it�s hard to discern whether the claim was made negligently or lazily.

I promised brevity, so I’ll let Morris’s numbers speak for themselves.

ERA      WHIP
4.33     1.21     Before All-Star Break
5.35     1.42     After All-Star Break

Stepped up? To me, this looks like an adequate job early in the season and a subpar performance thereafter.