Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
July 29, 2011: Mariners 0, Rays 8 (44-61)
So, it looks like the Mariners aren’t actually going to win all of their games for the rest of the year. They lost their game today. It’s a huge bummer, since it all but certainly indicates that the Mariners are a normal baseball team, and as such will not perform at inhuman levels and miraculously make the playoffs. It's over. Sometimes dreams have to die, and today is one of those times.
The 8-0 defeat that occurred today isn’t really worth talking about. The Mariners got soundly defeated, and not one single good thing happened to make the experience worthwhile. Not even Marylin vos Savant could rationalize any positivity out of this one. I guess the Mariners were nice enough to kill off all hope immediately, instead of lingering like an unopened Christmas present that turns out to contain asbestos. But that’s fairly small comfort.
However, if you are one of those people who really does feel awful about this for some ridiculous masochistic reason, I have good news: it’s not as bad as it seems. I know it seems like the last thirty plus years of Mariners baseball have been nothing but misery and failure, but that opinion is really only based on water-cooler misinformation, vague impressions, and half-remembered dreams. Human memory is imperfect. It builds narratives when nothing’s there, it overreacts to extreme events, sometimes it even just makes stuff up. But statistics… statistics are pure and solid. They are a simple record of the facts, and as such are wholly trustworthy. And the facts don’t actually bear out the whole “Mariners as pathetic losers” storyline.
Ok, so you’re sitting there thinking “Oh no, the Mariners are awful, they’ve never accomplished anything, wah wah wah.” Why do you think that they’re “awful”? What does it mean to be “awful”? The first thing you should know about “awful” is that it’s a relative term. If the Mariners are "awful", it means that the Mariners are bad in comparison to something else. In this case, “badness” entails failing to win baseball games. Who do the Mariners fail to win baseball games in comparison to? Other baseball teams, duh. Especially the New York Yankees. The New York Yankees win many more baseball games than the Mariners do. That’s the evidence for why the Mariners are awful: they lose much more than the New York Yankees.
Except, look at what the statistics say:
Just look at that. The Mariners and Yankees actually have pretty much even winning percentages, relatively speaking. The only real difference is that the Mariners’ win percentage is blue while the Yankees’ is red. Blue is a way better color than red, so score one for the Mariners. The statistical record is clear: quantitatively speaking, the Mariners are really no worse than the Yankees.
“But wait!” you say. “That’s not right! You’re just warping the statistics to prove your conclusion that you already decided on beforehand. The only person who said winning percentage matters was you. Quit building all these strawmen, and be a little bit intellectually honest. You know where I’m going with this: what matters is championships. At the end of the day, that’s all anyone cares about. It's the only true measure of success. The simple fact is, the Yankees have won way more World Serie than the Mariners have. That’s all there is to it. If you can disprove that, I’ll concede your point. You can’t, because it’s impossible, but I’d like to see you try.” And then a mockingbird pecks out the sparkly thread that used to be your mouth and you don’t say anything more. And then I refute your argument with the greatest of ease:
Basically the same. So buck up. Quit with the moping, ya saddo. The Mariners are fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, baseball’s fine, everything is just fine and maybe even also dandy. Just enjoy it. It’s baseball, bro. It’s all good.
The 8-0 defeat that occurred today isn’t really worth talking about. The Mariners got soundly defeated, and not one single good thing happened to make the experience worthwhile. Not even Marylin vos Savant could rationalize any positivity out of this one. I guess the Mariners were nice enough to kill off all hope immediately, instead of lingering like an unopened Christmas present that turns out to contain asbestos. But that’s fairly small comfort.
However, if you are one of those people who really does feel awful about this for some ridiculous masochistic reason, I have good news: it’s not as bad as it seems. I know it seems like the last thirty plus years of Mariners baseball have been nothing but misery and failure, but that opinion is really only based on water-cooler misinformation, vague impressions, and half-remembered dreams. Human memory is imperfect. It builds narratives when nothing’s there, it overreacts to extreme events, sometimes it even just makes stuff up. But statistics… statistics are pure and solid. They are a simple record of the facts, and as such are wholly trustworthy. And the facts don’t actually bear out the whole “Mariners as pathetic losers” storyline.
Ok, so you’re sitting there thinking “Oh no, the Mariners are awful, they’ve never accomplished anything, wah wah wah.” Why do you think that they’re “awful”? What does it mean to be “awful”? The first thing you should know about “awful” is that it’s a relative term. If the Mariners are "awful", it means that the Mariners are bad in comparison to something else. In this case, “badness” entails failing to win baseball games. Who do the Mariners fail to win baseball games in comparison to? Other baseball teams, duh. Especially the New York Yankees. The New York Yankees win many more baseball games than the Mariners do. That’s the evidence for why the Mariners are awful: they lose much more than the New York Yankees.
Except, look at what the statistics say:
Just look at that. The Mariners and Yankees actually have pretty much even winning percentages, relatively speaking. The only real difference is that the Mariners’ win percentage is blue while the Yankees’ is red. Blue is a way better color than red, so score one for the Mariners. The statistical record is clear: quantitatively speaking, the Mariners are really no worse than the Yankees.
“But wait!” you say. “That’s not right! You’re just warping the statistics to prove your conclusion that you already decided on beforehand. The only person who said winning percentage matters was you. Quit building all these strawmen, and be a little bit intellectually honest. You know where I’m going with this: what matters is championships. At the end of the day, that’s all anyone cares about. It's the only true measure of success. The simple fact is, the Yankees have won way more World Serie than the Mariners have. That’s all there is to it. If you can disprove that, I’ll concede your point. You can’t, because it’s impossible, but I’d like to see you try.” And then a mockingbird pecks out the sparkly thread that used to be your mouth and you don’t say anything more. And then I refute your argument with the greatest of ease:
Basically the same. So buck up. Quit with the moping, ya saddo. The Mariners are fine, I’m fine, you’re fine, baseball’s fine, everything is just fine and maybe even also dandy. Just enjoy it. It’s baseball, bro. It’s all good.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
July 27, 2011: Mariners 9, Yankees 2 (44-60)
On July 27, 2011, the Seattle Mariners played the New York Yankees. The Mariners won the game by a score of 9 to 2, a feat that was quite remarkable, considering it was only the 44th time all season that the Mariners had won a game. Nobody expected the Mariners to win this game. I mean, seriously, they had only won 43 games before this! What were the odds that they would win another one? Well... pretty good, apparently.
The actual most surprising thing about the game is that the Mariners won so easily. Nine to two? That’s a blowout! The Mariners amassed a whopping 17 hits, while only allowing six to the supposedly intimidating Yankees lineup. Sheer dominance, that's what that is. Could this be a sign of things to come? After all, the Yankees are a very good team. Possibly the best in the league. For the Mariners to beat them, and beat them so convincingly, in Yankee stadium... that’s a hell of a performance. There’s no way to spin it other than the Mariners played great. Flat-out great. And I’ll tell you what... I think it could continue.
Consider this: in the past 24 hours, the Mariners have won one game and lost zero. That’s a one hundred percent winning percentage, if you haven't figured that out already. That’s incredible. No team in baseball has ever come anywhere close to putting up a one hundred percent winning percentage. It’s unprecedented. But here the Mariners are, doing it. Can they keep it up? That’s less clear. We’ll have to wait for Friday’s game to figure that out. But if the Mariners win on Friday, watch out! They’ll have then won one hundred percent of their games over a stretch of multiple games. That’s a one hundred percent correlation between games played and games won. Here is a graph of what that would look like:
Included is a forecast of future performance, generated via least-squares regression. Note that the r2 is equal to one, the highest it could possibly be. The evidence is all there. Statistics don’t lie: if the Mariners win tomorrow, they can be expected to win every game for the rest of the season. If that happens, they might even make the playoffs!
I know, I know, that's great news. It really is awesome. Don't get too excited, though. I hate to rain on the parade, but, unfortunately, the scientific method and proper statistical analysis requires that I explore alternate hypotheses. And there's one possible scenario that the above chart doesn't account for: Friday’s game still needs to be played, and there’s a chance, just a chance, that the Mariners might lose. And if they do… they just might never win again.
The actual most surprising thing about the game is that the Mariners won so easily. Nine to two? That’s a blowout! The Mariners amassed a whopping 17 hits, while only allowing six to the supposedly intimidating Yankees lineup. Sheer dominance, that's what that is. Could this be a sign of things to come? After all, the Yankees are a very good team. Possibly the best in the league. For the Mariners to beat them, and beat them so convincingly, in Yankee stadium... that’s a hell of a performance. There’s no way to spin it other than the Mariners played great. Flat-out great. And I’ll tell you what... I think it could continue.
Consider this: in the past 24 hours, the Mariners have won one game and lost zero. That’s a one hundred percent winning percentage, if you haven't figured that out already. That’s incredible. No team in baseball has ever come anywhere close to putting up a one hundred percent winning percentage. It’s unprecedented. But here the Mariners are, doing it. Can they keep it up? That’s less clear. We’ll have to wait for Friday’s game to figure that out. But if the Mariners win on Friday, watch out! They’ll have then won one hundred percent of their games over a stretch of multiple games. That’s a one hundred percent correlation between games played and games won. Here is a graph of what that would look like:
Included is a forecast of future performance, generated via least-squares regression. Note that the r2 is equal to one, the highest it could possibly be. The evidence is all there. Statistics don’t lie: if the Mariners win tomorrow, they can be expected to win every game for the rest of the season. If that happens, they might even make the playoffs!
I know, I know, that's great news. It really is awesome. Don't get too excited, though. I hate to rain on the parade, but, unfortunately, the scientific method and proper statistical analysis requires that I explore alternate hypotheses. And there's one possible scenario that the above chart doesn't account for: Friday’s game still needs to be played, and there’s a chance, just a chance, that the Mariners might lose. And if they do… they just might never win again.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
July 25, 2011: Mariners 3, Yankees 10 (43-59)
Mariners baseball game today win no. New York Yankees runs score more Mariners not enough. Good team play baseball good bad team not so good. Jason Vargas runs runs runs. Pitching disaster nightmare total collapse. Yankees dingers because good hitting and lots of runs. Ten runs so many Mariners never do that. Mariners do baseball bad lose.
Sixteen lots of losses in a row. Bright future? No no no. Eric Wedge mustache lose job burn the tree? Team meeting fired up grit hustle effort try hard. No help Mariners hopeless. Talent not enough not enough talent. Lose lose lose. Baseball exciting fun family dreams baseball! Baseball! Mariners Mariners Mariners!
:(
Sixteen lots of losses in a row. Bright future? No no no. Eric Wedge mustache lose job burn the tree? Team meeting fired up grit hustle effort try hard. No help Mariners hopeless. Talent not enough not enough talent. Lose lose lose. Baseball exciting fun family dreams baseball! Baseball! Mariners Mariners Mariners!
:(
Sunday, July 24, 2011
July 22-24, 2011: Mariners something, Red Sox something more (43-58)
So, the Mariners losing streak just hit fifteen. What happened? Why did this team that for most of the year didn’t lose every single game suddenly start losing every single game? The short answer is it’s inexplicable, but that’s not going to stop me from trying to explain it.
Here’s an interesting statistic: over the past fifteen games, the Mariners have averaged 2.67 runs scored per game. Over the same stretch, they’ve averaged 5.8 runs allowed per game. That right there is probably the most direct reason they've been losing. You aren’t going to win many games in which you allow twice as many runs as you score. But you want more. The pain of this losing streak is eating at you, and you’re hungry for answers. Let’s dig deeper.
Why have the Mariners allowed so many more runs than they’ve scored recently? Well, over the same fifteen game stretch, they’ve recorded 7.93 hits per game while allowing 10.27 hits per game. In general, when you get less hits, you get less runs. So that explains everything! Yes!
Except, not really. Why have the Mariners allowed more hits than they’ve recorded recently? One explanation could be that they’ve wilted in the summer heat like so many unwatered petunias. Or, it could be that they’ve always been this bad, and their early-season success was just a luck-fueled house of cards that is finally collapsing. Or maybe they couldn’t handle the pressure of a playoff race and they’re choking like a man trying to swallow a starfish. Or they’re trying too hard. Or they aren’t trying hard enough. The possibilities are endless, and unless you’re a mind reader (I am not) there’s no way to know. However, there is another, stronger possibility: it’s just wild, random chance.
How could that be? A team losing fifteen games in a row is colossally unlikely! Don’t tell me it’s just random chance! Well, that’s actually what I’m going to tell you. Here’s some math: let’s say that, given the relative talent levels of the Mariners and their opponents, the chances of the Mariners winning each individual game was around forty percent (I’m being generous so that nobody can accuse me of warping the stats to fit a narrative). That means that the probability of fifteen consecutive losses is around .047%, or around one in two thousand. That’s pretty low. However, consider this: for each individual team, there are approximately 148 stretches of fifteen games within a season. There are 30 teams in baseball. By my calculations, 148 times 30 is 4,440. Way more than 2,000. So a stretch this unlikely should actually happen to someone about twice a season. Unfortunately, this time the Mariners drew the short straw. C’est la vie.
So, this losing streak can basically be said to be happening because it is a thing that is happening. When looked at that way, who cares? Ride the wave! Go down with the ship! See how low you can go! Or not. Whatever.
Here’s an interesting statistic: over the past fifteen games, the Mariners have averaged 2.67 runs scored per game. Over the same stretch, they’ve averaged 5.8 runs allowed per game. That right there is probably the most direct reason they've been losing. You aren’t going to win many games in which you allow twice as many runs as you score. But you want more. The pain of this losing streak is eating at you, and you’re hungry for answers. Let’s dig deeper.
Why have the Mariners allowed so many more runs than they’ve scored recently? Well, over the same fifteen game stretch, they’ve recorded 7.93 hits per game while allowing 10.27 hits per game. In general, when you get less hits, you get less runs. So that explains everything! Yes!
Except, not really. Why have the Mariners allowed more hits than they’ve recorded recently? One explanation could be that they’ve wilted in the summer heat like so many unwatered petunias. Or, it could be that they’ve always been this bad, and their early-season success was just a luck-fueled house of cards that is finally collapsing. Or maybe they couldn’t handle the pressure of a playoff race and they’re choking like a man trying to swallow a starfish. Or they’re trying too hard. Or they aren’t trying hard enough. The possibilities are endless, and unless you’re a mind reader (I am not) there’s no way to know. However, there is another, stronger possibility: it’s just wild, random chance.
How could that be? A team losing fifteen games in a row is colossally unlikely! Don’t tell me it’s just random chance! Well, that’s actually what I’m going to tell you. Here’s some math: let’s say that, given the relative talent levels of the Mariners and their opponents, the chances of the Mariners winning each individual game was around forty percent (I’m being generous so that nobody can accuse me of warping the stats to fit a narrative). That means that the probability of fifteen consecutive losses is around .047%, or around one in two thousand. That’s pretty low. However, consider this: for each individual team, there are approximately 148 stretches of fifteen games within a season. There are 30 teams in baseball. By my calculations, 148 times 30 is 4,440. Way more than 2,000. So a stretch this unlikely should actually happen to someone about twice a season. Unfortunately, this time the Mariners drew the short straw. C’est la vie.
So, this losing streak can basically be said to be happening because it is a thing that is happening. When looked at that way, who cares? Ride the wave! Go down with the ship! See how low you can go! Or not. Whatever.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
July 20, 2011: Mariners 6, Blue Jays 11 (43-54)
Here is a complete list of facts about this game:
1. The Mariners scored 6 runs.
2. The Blue Jays scored 11 runs.
3. 11 is more than 6.
4. The Mariners lost.
5. The Blue Jays won.
Here is some rigorous analysis of these facts:
If there is a situation in which things are guaranteed to happen, then some combination of things will in fact happen. The facts compiled above are one such combination of things.
1. The Mariners scored 6 runs.
2. The Blue Jays scored 11 runs.
3. 11 is more than 6.
4. The Mariners lost.
5. The Blue Jays won.
Here is some rigorous analysis of these facts:
If there is a situation in which things are guaranteed to happen, then some combination of things will in fact happen. The facts compiled above are one such combination of things.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
July 19, 2011: Mariners 5, Blue Jays 6 (43-53)
My recap of today’s Mariners game isn’t very good. The problems start with the first sentence – it doesn’t say anything about the game, for one thing, but that’s beside the point. Leading with game info is a sure-fire recipe for failure when you’re reporting on the Mariners. The problem really lies in the ideas it sets up – a shamelessly corny gimmick that’s too clever by half. To make it worse, the recap even acknowledges the almost embarrassing nature of the premise, but does nothing to stop the unfolding car wreck. It promises an article that is immediately unsalvageable, no matter where it goes from there.
The second paragraph isn’t much better. There’s still no real baseball related content. Instead, the article does nothing but reveal an author wholly caught up in his own desire to be clever. It looks pretty clearly like a masturbatory ploy to seem creative and self-aware and intelligent, and, while that phrasing is probably a little harsh, it’s hard to argue that that’s not what it is, given the total disregard for the ostensible “purpose” of the article. Obviously, there’s not a lot of respect for the material there. The article is quite hard to read. Not like literally difficult-to-extract-linguistic-meaning-from “hard to read”, but emotionally why-am-I-reading-this-I-feel-embarrassed-for-the-author “hard to read”. I know that I cringe when I look at it.
Finally, after an eternity of self-serving rambling, it gets into some baseball stuff. But it doesn’t actually say anything but the score (6-5, advantage Toronto), and it’s obviously just a token mention with no effort to be interesting. The baseball content is nothing but self-justification, an attempt to seem like there was some kind of point there. It’s an excuse to publish some thoughts that really shouldn’t be shared. And, right there in the article, I point all this out, acknowledge all the problems and the pointlessness and the idiocy, and I keep going anyway.
Eventually I reach a point where it would be natural to go into a conclusion, to end the suffering, but I don’t stop. I ramble away, lost in my own head. It starts to get pretty obvious that there isn’t any kind of mental filter there. All my thoughts are right there on the page, pouring out in all sorts of bore-izontal directions. It’s just tangent after tangent, all of them sort of containing information, but none of them adding up to a purposeful whole. It’s all so self-serving. Certainly not a shining example of the baseball-postgame-recap genre.
By the last paragraph, it’s apparent that I’ve mostly given up, which is actually a reasonable thing to do, since I’d have to be way more egotistical than I am to believe that anyone would have waded through all that preceding drivel and still kept reading. It ends pretty abruptly, without a real conclusion. I couldn’t even be bothered to type a period onto the final sentence
The second paragraph isn’t much better. There’s still no real baseball related content. Instead, the article does nothing but reveal an author wholly caught up in his own desire to be clever. It looks pretty clearly like a masturbatory ploy to seem creative and self-aware and intelligent, and, while that phrasing is probably a little harsh, it’s hard to argue that that’s not what it is, given the total disregard for the ostensible “purpose” of the article. Obviously, there’s not a lot of respect for the material there. The article is quite hard to read. Not like literally difficult-to-extract-linguistic-meaning-from “hard to read”, but emotionally why-am-I-reading-this-I-feel-embarrassed-for-the-author “hard to read”. I know that I cringe when I look at it.
Finally, after an eternity of self-serving rambling, it gets into some baseball stuff. But it doesn’t actually say anything but the score (6-5, advantage Toronto), and it’s obviously just a token mention with no effort to be interesting. The baseball content is nothing but self-justification, an attempt to seem like there was some kind of point there. It’s an excuse to publish some thoughts that really shouldn’t be shared. And, right there in the article, I point all this out, acknowledge all the problems and the pointlessness and the idiocy, and I keep going anyway.
Eventually I reach a point where it would be natural to go into a conclusion, to end the suffering, but I don’t stop. I ramble away, lost in my own head. It starts to get pretty obvious that there isn’t any kind of mental filter there. All my thoughts are right there on the page, pouring out in all sorts of bore-izontal directions. It’s just tangent after tangent, all of them sort of containing information, but none of them adding up to a purposeful whole. It’s all so self-serving. Certainly not a shining example of the baseball-postgame-recap genre.
By the last paragraph, it’s apparent that I’ve mostly given up, which is actually a reasonable thing to do, since I’d have to be way more egotistical than I am to believe that anyone would have waded through all that preceding drivel and still kept reading. It ends pretty abruptly, without a real conclusion. I couldn’t even be bothered to type a period onto the final sentence
Sunday, July 17, 2011
July 17, 2011: Mariners 1, Rangers 3 (43-52)
The darkness is starting to creep in.
The Mariners just lost again. That makes nine in a row. Nine straight defeats, nine straight missed opportunities, nine straight chances that the Mariners will never get back. From now until eternity, the Mariners will have lost every single game they played from July 6th 2011 to July 17th 2011. That’s an immutable fact. There’s nothing, literally nothing, that they will ever be able to do to change that. All these games, all these losses… Sure, there will be more chances in the future, but these ones are gone, gone forever. No matter where they go, no matter what success or happiness these players might someday attain, they’ll have to live with these crushing failures for the rest of their lives. It hurts. It hurts bad.
The worst thing about this recent string of defeats is how hopeless, how thoroughly, well, defeating they’ve been. Over the past nine games, the Mariners have been outscored 41 to 11. It’s been brutal. Bambi Meets Godzilla on a baseball field. Not once in the past two weeks have I gone into a game thinking that the Mariners have had any chance to win. And the team has done nothing but validate that hopelessness. At this point, it feels like the Mariners won’t ever win again. How could they? Seriously, how could this collection of assclowns ever hope to outscore another baseball team? What would that even look like? I can’t imagine it.
Except, no, that’s not right. I mean, come on. Of course the Mariners will win again. Quit with the drama, Pessimismo. This is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why are you getting so worked up over nine bad games? Trust me, the Mariners have played a whole lot more than just nine bad games in their time. This is a drop in the bucket, and the only reason anyone cares is that these nine bad games happened to align temporally. The Mariners have won about 45 percent of their games this season. They’ll probably win about 45 percent of their games the rest of the season, too. That leaves room for them to win about thirty more games, and most likely about thirty more games they will win.
At least, that’s what the math says. After living through these last two weeks of baseball, though, it’s hard to trust the math. It’s hard to shake off two weeks worth of constant hopelessness and despair. It’s hard to really believe that the Mariners aren’t a miserable excuse for a baseball team, that they aren’t doomed, doomed, forever doomed. But you have to believe. What other choice is there? How could you possibly force yourself to keep following this team every. single. day. if there wasn’t at least some glimmer of hope? Stop paying attention? Stop being a fan? Let’s be real, those are not options. In my case, even if I wanted to go down that path (And I don’t. Winners never quit.), I don’t think I could. I can’t stop being a fan. I can’t. The Mariners got a grip on my heart sometime when I was so little I can’t even remember, and they aren’t letting go.
And so I soldier on. One day at a time. It’s dark now, pitch dark, but hope springs eternal. Any dreams for this season are dead and buried, but next year? Who knows? Maybe they’ll win it all. If not next year, then maybe the year after that. It’s got to happen sometime, right? And I know, or at least I tell myself, that if and when that ever happens it will all have been worth it. All the pain and the yearning and the endless suppressed suspicion that this is all just totally stupid will make the euphoria of victory that much sweeter. They say that anything worth doing is worth suffering for. I don’t know if I believe that, but, when it comes to baseball, I’m willing to say I do. If and when the Mariners ever win a World Series, I’m not going to do the “normal” fan thing. I’m not going to take the party to the streets and celebrate with my fellow Mariners fans. What I’m going to do is experience it the way that’s meaningful to me, the way I’ve really always experienced baseball. I’m going to sit alone in my room, and I’m going to smile until my eyes bleed.
The Mariners just lost again. That makes nine in a row. Nine straight defeats, nine straight missed opportunities, nine straight chances that the Mariners will never get back. From now until eternity, the Mariners will have lost every single game they played from July 6th 2011 to July 17th 2011. That’s an immutable fact. There’s nothing, literally nothing, that they will ever be able to do to change that. All these games, all these losses… Sure, there will be more chances in the future, but these ones are gone, gone forever. No matter where they go, no matter what success or happiness these players might someday attain, they’ll have to live with these crushing failures for the rest of their lives. It hurts. It hurts bad.
The worst thing about this recent string of defeats is how hopeless, how thoroughly, well, defeating they’ve been. Over the past nine games, the Mariners have been outscored 41 to 11. It’s been brutal. Bambi Meets Godzilla on a baseball field. Not once in the past two weeks have I gone into a game thinking that the Mariners have had any chance to win. And the team has done nothing but validate that hopelessness. At this point, it feels like the Mariners won’t ever win again. How could they? Seriously, how could this collection of assclowns ever hope to outscore another baseball team? What would that even look like? I can’t imagine it.
Except, no, that’s not right. I mean, come on. Of course the Mariners will win again. Quit with the drama, Pessimismo. This is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why are you getting so worked up over nine bad games? Trust me, the Mariners have played a whole lot more than just nine bad games in their time. This is a drop in the bucket, and the only reason anyone cares is that these nine bad games happened to align temporally. The Mariners have won about 45 percent of their games this season. They’ll probably win about 45 percent of their games the rest of the season, too. That leaves room for them to win about thirty more games, and most likely about thirty more games they will win.
At least, that’s what the math says. After living through these last two weeks of baseball, though, it’s hard to trust the math. It’s hard to shake off two weeks worth of constant hopelessness and despair. It’s hard to really believe that the Mariners aren’t a miserable excuse for a baseball team, that they aren’t doomed, doomed, forever doomed. But you have to believe. What other choice is there? How could you possibly force yourself to keep following this team every. single. day. if there wasn’t at least some glimmer of hope? Stop paying attention? Stop being a fan? Let’s be real, those are not options. In my case, even if I wanted to go down that path (And I don’t. Winners never quit.), I don’t think I could. I can’t stop being a fan. I can’t. The Mariners got a grip on my heart sometime when I was so little I can’t even remember, and they aren’t letting go.
And so I soldier on. One day at a time. It’s dark now, pitch dark, but hope springs eternal. Any dreams for this season are dead and buried, but next year? Who knows? Maybe they’ll win it all. If not next year, then maybe the year after that. It’s got to happen sometime, right? And I know, or at least I tell myself, that if and when that ever happens it will all have been worth it. All the pain and the yearning and the endless suppressed suspicion that this is all just totally stupid will make the euphoria of victory that much sweeter. They say that anything worth doing is worth suffering for. I don’t know if I believe that, but, when it comes to baseball, I’m willing to say I do. If and when the Mariners ever win a World Series, I’m not going to do the “normal” fan thing. I’m not going to take the party to the streets and celebrate with my fellow Mariners fans. What I’m going to do is experience it the way that’s meaningful to me, the way I’ve really always experienced baseball. I’m going to sit alone in my room, and I’m going to smile until my eyes bleed.
Saturday, July 16, 2011
July 15, 2011: Mariners 0, Rangers 4 (43-50)
I believe the phrase I’m looking for here is “gruesome encore”. Hilarious joke, guys. Yeah, I did notice that this was the exact same game as yesterday. What do you expect me to do? Laugh? Newsflash: it wasn’t funny the first time, either. Why must I be subjected to this horrible repetition? Why? I guess this wasn’t a game for the fans. Fundamentally, there are two types of jokes: jokes meant to amuse the audience, and jokes meant to amuse the teller. This game was the latter. Thanks, Mariners. Nothing makes me happier about being a fan than when you use me as a tool for your amusement. It’s been an honor.
Today’s game featured a number of events. How many? I dunno, man. A few. Three of the events were run-scoring sacrifice flies, which doesn’t indicate anything beyond the fact that even when things happened they happened in the most boring way possible. What else? I guess Doug Fister wasn’t very good. He only had one strikeout in 7.2 innings, which might be worrisome if not for the fact that he’s Doug Fister, and he doesn’t get very many strikeouts even in the best of circumstances. These things happen some of the times. Based on the available evidence, I predict that Doug Fister will continue to deliver Doug Fister-esque performances in the future.
I would go on, but it’s obvious the Mariners aren’t even trying, so why should I? It’s not like there’s really anything else to say about this game. Maybe the next game will be better. Maybe the next game will give me something new and interesting to write about. I doubt it, though. Unfortunately, the Mariners are still the ones playing all of the Mariners' games, and that’s not going to change any time soon. Only 93 more games to go. Weeeeeeeeeeee.
Today’s game featured a number of events. How many? I dunno, man. A few. Three of the events were run-scoring sacrifice flies, which doesn’t indicate anything beyond the fact that even when things happened they happened in the most boring way possible. What else? I guess Doug Fister wasn’t very good. He only had one strikeout in 7.2 innings, which might be worrisome if not for the fact that he’s Doug Fister, and he doesn’t get very many strikeouts even in the best of circumstances. These things happen some of the times. Based on the available evidence, I predict that Doug Fister will continue to deliver Doug Fister-esque performances in the future.
I would go on, but it’s obvious the Mariners aren’t even trying, so why should I? It’s not like there’s really anything else to say about this game. Maybe the next game will be better. Maybe the next game will give me something new and interesting to write about. I doubt it, though. Unfortunately, the Mariners are still the ones playing all of the Mariners' games, and that’s not going to change any time soon. Only 93 more games to go. Weeeeeeeeeeee.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
July 14, 2011: Mariners 0, Rangers 5 (43-49)
Jeez, they’re STILL playing these games? Why? Nobody cares anymore. Nobody is getting emotionally invested in these games. Not one person in Seattle harbors any illusion that the Mariners are heading towards anything but failure. The team is finished. Kaput. Dead men walking. And yet, still, they walk. They left the plank a while ago, but somehow their legs keep propelling them forward, gracefully cutting through the air as they descend to the lapping waves and Davy Jones’ Locker below.
People are still watching, too. I would continue beating the high seas metaphor to death, maybe with a line comparing the Mariners’ fans to captured ship’s passengers, standing on the deck watching the original crew march to their deaths and thinking “Wow, I am so lucky that that isn’t happening to me. This is an incredible life-changing experience, and I am going to infuse it with meaning in order to shape my life for the better”, even though they’re just gonna die eventually too anyways, and so on and so forth, but I actually have too much respect for baseball to go down that route.
Today is the start of the best part of the baseball season. There’s no longer any obligation to watch the games, pay close attention to the team, care whether they get humiliated on national television for the infinitieth time. No obligations at all. Now, you can take a step away and just view baseball as background noise. It’s going on. It’s there for you if you want to passively listen to it while trimming the hedges or whatever. Whether you care or not, it’s something that really is always there, no matter where “there” is. And then you take another step away, and you realize that it’s not always there. For starters, there’s the offseason. Six months a year, baseball does not get played. And what about all those cities that don't get to have a Major League Baseball team playing in their backyard, representing the pride of their hometown night in and night out? What about all those countries that don’t even have baseball at all? And hey, let’s not forget, baseball has only been played for about 150 years. The number of years in which baseball has not been played is, um, bigger. We’re incredibly lucky to be living in this infinitesimal sliver of space and time in which baseball is an immediately accessible cultural thing. When you realize that, hearing a baseball game becomes something a bit different. Something a bit more special. It’s the sound of summer. It’s the sound of childhood. It’s the sound of dreams and memories and the greater culture that unites us all. It’s the sound of humanity. It’s beautiful.
Er, today’s game: from a Mariners perspective, this game came as close as possible to having literally nothing happen. It was so good at this that you couldn’t even say that it was noteworthy for having nothing happen. Maybe you could extract some interesting information from this game if you care about what the Rangers did, but the Rangers are just a bunch of people I’ll never meet who happened to play a sports game against some other people I’ll never meet. That isn’t quite enough to make me care. If you reeaaaally want some analysis and statistics, here’s a statistic for you: “0”. That’s quite a round number, isn’t it? Yeah. Think about that one for a while.
People are still watching, too. I would continue beating the high seas metaphor to death, maybe with a line comparing the Mariners’ fans to captured ship’s passengers, standing on the deck watching the original crew march to their deaths and thinking “Wow, I am so lucky that that isn’t happening to me. This is an incredible life-changing experience, and I am going to infuse it with meaning in order to shape my life for the better”, even though they’re just gonna die eventually too anyways, and so on and so forth, but I actually have too much respect for baseball to go down that route.
Today is the start of the best part of the baseball season. There’s no longer any obligation to watch the games, pay close attention to the team, care whether they get humiliated on national television for the infinitieth time. No obligations at all. Now, you can take a step away and just view baseball as background noise. It’s going on. It’s there for you if you want to passively listen to it while trimming the hedges or whatever. Whether you care or not, it’s something that really is always there, no matter where “there” is. And then you take another step away, and you realize that it’s not always there. For starters, there’s the offseason. Six months a year, baseball does not get played. And what about all those cities that don't get to have a Major League Baseball team playing in their backyard, representing the pride of their hometown night in and night out? What about all those countries that don’t even have baseball at all? And hey, let’s not forget, baseball has only been played for about 150 years. The number of years in which baseball has not been played is, um, bigger. We’re incredibly lucky to be living in this infinitesimal sliver of space and time in which baseball is an immediately accessible cultural thing. When you realize that, hearing a baseball game becomes something a bit different. Something a bit more special. It’s the sound of summer. It’s the sound of childhood. It’s the sound of dreams and memories and the greater culture that unites us all. It’s the sound of humanity. It’s beautiful.
Er, today’s game: from a Mariners perspective, this game came as close as possible to having literally nothing happen. It was so good at this that you couldn’t even say that it was noteworthy for having nothing happen. Maybe you could extract some interesting information from this game if you care about what the Rangers did, but the Rangers are just a bunch of people I’ll never meet who happened to play a sports game against some other people I’ll never meet. That isn’t quite enough to make me care. If you reeaaaally want some analysis and statistics, here’s a statistic for you: “0”. That’s quite a round number, isn’t it? Yeah. Think about that one for a while.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
July 10, 2011: Mariners 2, Angels 4 (43-48)
So, here we are at the All-Star break, and the Mariners have just lost their last five games, all of them against division rivals. The team now has a record of 43-48, and sits 6.5 back of the Angels and 7.5 back of the Rangers. At this point, it’s safe to say that the Mariners aren’t going to make the playoffs. Oh, sure, it’s technically possible, but let’s be real: It’s not going to happen. Even if the Rangers and Angels both only play .500 baseball from here on out, the Mariners would need to go 43-28 the rest of the way just to finish in a tie. You’ll note that that’s the same number of wins that the team has right now. You’ll also note that that’s a whopping twenty losses less than the team has right now. It’s not going to happen.
The upshot of this is that Mariners fans are going to have to come to terms with the fact that the outcomes of every single remaining game are virtually meaningless. All of a sudden, it doesn’t really matter who wins the ballgame. That’s a hard pill to swallow. How can you really be a fan of a team if you don’t care what happens? If the games, instead of being invigorating battles of life and death, are instead chilling reminders of the rote pointlessness of so much of human existence? It must be hard. I’m certainly not ready for that. But I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. What other choice do I have?
Quick breakdown of today’s game: the Mariners scored two runs, the Angels scored four runs. The Mariners had five hits, the Angels had eight hits. Mariners batters walked twice and struck out nine times, Angels batters walked thrice and struck out seven times. The Mariners threw 137 pitches, the Angels threw 122 pitches. Why do I tell you all this? Because. These are all things that happened in a baseball game, and things that happen in a baseball game are interesting and worth reporting, no matter how banal. You want me to try to prove my argument? Ok. You just read all those facts. Boom. There’s your proof.
The upshot of this is that Mariners fans are going to have to come to terms with the fact that the outcomes of every single remaining game are virtually meaningless. All of a sudden, it doesn’t really matter who wins the ballgame. That’s a hard pill to swallow. How can you really be a fan of a team if you don’t care what happens? If the games, instead of being invigorating battles of life and death, are instead chilling reminders of the rote pointlessness of so much of human existence? It must be hard. I’m certainly not ready for that. But I guess I’ll just have to get used to it. What other choice do I have?
Quick breakdown of today’s game: the Mariners scored two runs, the Angels scored four runs. The Mariners had five hits, the Angels had eight hits. Mariners batters walked twice and struck out nine times, Angels batters walked thrice and struck out seven times. The Mariners threw 137 pitches, the Angels threw 122 pitches. Why do I tell you all this? Because. These are all things that happened in a baseball game, and things that happen in a baseball game are interesting and worth reporting, no matter how banal. You want me to try to prove my argument? Ok. You just read all those facts. Boom. There’s your proof.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
Friday, July 8, 2011
July 7, 2011: Mariners 1, Angels 5 (43-45)
Today’s Mariners game wasn’t exactly pleasant. It was an awful day for baseball, with temperatures climbing as high as 98 degrees, and the game itself wasn’t exactly an oasis of comfort. The lone bright spot was the debut of new kid on the block Kyle Seager.
Despite the excitement, it wouldn’t be entirely appropriate to describe Seager’s debut as “much anticipated”. Seager had only even been in AAA for two weeks. His callup was less a much-deserved reward for sustained excellence and more due to his hot streak being in sync with the Mariners’ desperate need for a competent third baseman. The truth is, I don’t expect much from Seager right now. He definitely has potential to be a useful player, but it’s unlikely that he’s ready yet. Most likely, Seager will get a couple weeks of action, not be quite up to the challenge, and quickly get shipped back down the street to T-Town with the rest of the minor league boys.
And, like I expected, Seager’s first game wasn’t exactly a revelation. He looked lost, struck out multiple times, and was left black and blue by the pitching of Jered Weaver. It was rough, and served only to encourage my negativity. I’m willing to be proved wrong, though. I’ll hold off a bit before I really judge him. I do see talent there, and he has managed to get this far. It's not like he'll get beat up so bad he'll be knocked out of baseball for good. I’m sure Seager will hang tough and keep fighting. Even if he fails, he’ll learn something. The Mariners are giving him a chance, so I’ll give him a chance, too. No strings attached.
Since there’s not much to say about this game, I guess I should go over some blog issues. I know the schtick might get tiresome. I know that it might be time for me to be real and quit playing games. But it’s not really schtick if it comes from a core of honesty, and right now this is all I have to give. I’m writing the way I’m writing because I want it that way, and I don't particularly care what anyone else thinks. Ultimately, only one person will get to decide what get’s posted here. Who? Well, duh. It’s gonna be me. So this is it. The music of my heart. Where will it go? What will I play next? I don’t know, but this I promise you: I’ll never stop.
Until next time,
bye bye bye
Despite the excitement, it wouldn’t be entirely appropriate to describe Seager’s debut as “much anticipated”. Seager had only even been in AAA for two weeks. His callup was less a much-deserved reward for sustained excellence and more due to his hot streak being in sync with the Mariners’ desperate need for a competent third baseman. The truth is, I don’t expect much from Seager right now. He definitely has potential to be a useful player, but it’s unlikely that he’s ready yet. Most likely, Seager will get a couple weeks of action, not be quite up to the challenge, and quickly get shipped back down the street to T-Town with the rest of the minor league boys.
And, like I expected, Seager’s first game wasn’t exactly a revelation. He looked lost, struck out multiple times, and was left black and blue by the pitching of Jered Weaver. It was rough, and served only to encourage my negativity. I’m willing to be proved wrong, though. I’ll hold off a bit before I really judge him. I do see talent there, and he has managed to get this far. It's not like he'll get beat up so bad he'll be knocked out of baseball for good. I’m sure Seager will hang tough and keep fighting. Even if he fails, he’ll learn something. The Mariners are giving him a chance, so I’ll give him a chance, too. No strings attached.
Since there’s not much to say about this game, I guess I should go over some blog issues. I know the schtick might get tiresome. I know that it might be time for me to be real and quit playing games. But it’s not really schtick if it comes from a core of honesty, and right now this is all I have to give. I’m writing the way I’m writing because I want it that way, and I don't particularly care what anyone else thinks. Ultimately, only one person will get to decide what get’s posted here. Who? Well, duh. It’s gonna be me. So this is it. The music of my heart. Where will it go? What will I play next? I don’t know, but this I promise you: I’ll never stop.
Until next time,
bye bye bye
Thursday, July 7, 2011
July 6, 2011: Mariners 0, Athletics 2 (43-44)
Going into today’s Mariners game, I had guardedly high expectations. The early buzz surrounding the game was positive, and all the ingredients were there for an entertaining time. The protagonist (Jason Vargas) was in the midst of an unprecedented hot streak, and whispers were that today’s game would represent a career breakthrough. Although the antagonist (Guillermo Moscoso) was a relative unknown, his limited track record – bad, but entertainingly so – suggested strongly that he would be an ideal villain. The matchup pointed towards an entertaining, lighthearted romp – the Mariners would win, and, though they might struggle at times, we would never doubt them.
However, I know the Mariners. I’ve seen a lot of their work over the years. Their recent output suggested to me that the story might go another, much darker direction – the Mariners would lose, and they would lose in an excessively hopeless fashion. I was a little apprehensive about this possibility. It’s not that I have a problem with darkness or sadness in baseball. It’s just that that stuff works a lot better when it’s a rare exception. When it’s a common occurrence, it cheapens the emotion, and ends up feeling at best eye-rollingly immature, and at worst dry-heavesingly immature. I was afraid that the Mariners would make me embarrassed to watch them.
Still, though, I’ve had a lot of good experiences with Mariners, and I knew that there was a decent chance they would surprise me. I’m not going to downplay the anxiety, but I was more happy than not to see what the Mariners were doing these days. You never know when they might spit out a masterpiece.
What I got was a refreshingly experimental approach to the baseball experience. The Mariners interspersed two independent and contrasting narratives, rhythmically switching the focus every few minutes to prevent anyone from getting too comfortable. The first narrative was a fun, positive one, of a type we’ve seen a lot in recent weeks. The Mariners pitching cleaned up against the Athletics offense. Batter after batter came up, took a few feeble hacks, and sat back down. Some of them got their licks in, but on the whole the Athletics hitters were resoundingly defeated. In this half of the story, it was never in doubt that the Mariners pitching would triumph, but we still got to see a few token failures and challenges along the way to keep it interesting. Basically a standard, reasonably well-executed feel-good story.
The second narrative was a bit more unconventional. In this, the antagonist took center stage, while the forces of good battled to bring him to justice. Unfortunately for the forces of good, I use the term “battled” very liberally. Not only did the Mariners batters fail, but they didn’t even put up a fight. It was like they didn’t care. They kept voluntarily lining up by the batter’s box, knowing all the while that they were stepping into an execution. It was oddly one-note, and so relentlessly downbeat that it was hard to feel bad about what was happening. It felt extremely detached, and even might have been funny, if you could believe that anyone could create humor so black.
Basically, what we’re talking about is The Stupids mashed up with The Match Factory Girl, switching between narratives every seven minutes or so. It was a blinding contrast, the proximate effects of which were to make the victorious story seem naïve and existentially pointless, and to make the depressive story seem like a comically overwrought satire of adolescent mopiness. Ultimately, both stories were left seeming like essentially false perspectives on humanity. This concept, as I’m describing it now, sounds awesome, and let me tell you, it sure does feel awesome to think about. However, it wasn’t actually awesome to watch. At the time, there was no drama, no suspense, no purpose or direction or semblance of narrative arc. It wasn’t an easy game to engage with. I was interested enough to keep watching, but also fairly detached and more than occasionally bored. That’s always a hard situation to evaluate – I liked the game, I valued it, I’m glad I watched it, but it’s likely not something I would ever bother to watch again.
I think that’s ok though. Even if once is enough, I got something valuable out of that one viewing. The game made me think. It gave me ideas. It expanded my experience of the world. It made me a richer person, became a part of my life. Already it is weaving itself into a tapestry of moments, thoughts, and feelings, all of which I will look back on in my golden years with unreserved happiness. I guess what I’m saying is, I liked it.
Grade: B+
However, I know the Mariners. I’ve seen a lot of their work over the years. Their recent output suggested to me that the story might go another, much darker direction – the Mariners would lose, and they would lose in an excessively hopeless fashion. I was a little apprehensive about this possibility. It’s not that I have a problem with darkness or sadness in baseball. It’s just that that stuff works a lot better when it’s a rare exception. When it’s a common occurrence, it cheapens the emotion, and ends up feeling at best eye-rollingly immature, and at worst dry-heavesingly immature. I was afraid that the Mariners would make me embarrassed to watch them.
Still, though, I’ve had a lot of good experiences with Mariners, and I knew that there was a decent chance they would surprise me. I’m not going to downplay the anxiety, but I was more happy than not to see what the Mariners were doing these days. You never know when they might spit out a masterpiece.
What I got was a refreshingly experimental approach to the baseball experience. The Mariners interspersed two independent and contrasting narratives, rhythmically switching the focus every few minutes to prevent anyone from getting too comfortable. The first narrative was a fun, positive one, of a type we’ve seen a lot in recent weeks. The Mariners pitching cleaned up against the Athletics offense. Batter after batter came up, took a few feeble hacks, and sat back down. Some of them got their licks in, but on the whole the Athletics hitters were resoundingly defeated. In this half of the story, it was never in doubt that the Mariners pitching would triumph, but we still got to see a few token failures and challenges along the way to keep it interesting. Basically a standard, reasonably well-executed feel-good story.
The second narrative was a bit more unconventional. In this, the antagonist took center stage, while the forces of good battled to bring him to justice. Unfortunately for the forces of good, I use the term “battled” very liberally. Not only did the Mariners batters fail, but they didn’t even put up a fight. It was like they didn’t care. They kept voluntarily lining up by the batter’s box, knowing all the while that they were stepping into an execution. It was oddly one-note, and so relentlessly downbeat that it was hard to feel bad about what was happening. It felt extremely detached, and even might have been funny, if you could believe that anyone could create humor so black.
Basically, what we’re talking about is The Stupids mashed up with The Match Factory Girl, switching between narratives every seven minutes or so. It was a blinding contrast, the proximate effects of which were to make the victorious story seem naïve and existentially pointless, and to make the depressive story seem like a comically overwrought satire of adolescent mopiness. Ultimately, both stories were left seeming like essentially false perspectives on humanity. This concept, as I’m describing it now, sounds awesome, and let me tell you, it sure does feel awesome to think about. However, it wasn’t actually awesome to watch. At the time, there was no drama, no suspense, no purpose or direction or semblance of narrative arc. It wasn’t an easy game to engage with. I was interested enough to keep watching, but also fairly detached and more than occasionally bored. That’s always a hard situation to evaluate – I liked the game, I valued it, I’m glad I watched it, but it’s likely not something I would ever bother to watch again.
I think that’s ok though. Even if once is enough, I got something valuable out of that one viewing. The game made me think. It gave me ideas. It expanded my experience of the world. It made me a richer person, became a part of my life. Already it is weaving itself into a tapestry of moments, thoughts, and feelings, all of which I will look back on in my golden years with unreserved happiness. I guess what I’m saying is, I liked it.
Grade: B+
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
July 5, 2011: Mariners 4, Athletics 2 (43-43)
Have you noticed that this season’s Mariners games kind of all seem the same? Don’t answer that. I don’t care what you think. I care what I think, and my opinion is better than yours, for I have data.
Behold, the data: The Mariners have scored between -2 and 17 runs in every game this season. The Mariners have allowed between -1 and 20 runs in every game this season. Every Mariners game has lasted between 12 and 600 minutes. Every game, the Mariners have had between 3 and 40 players take the field. Most crucially, the Mariners have either won or lost every single game. That's right. Every. Single. Game. Yes, the proof is in the pudding. The Mariners have played basically the same game, over and over again, night in and night out, 86 times in a row. And they’re barely even halfway done.
Today, in a game notable mostly for being the most recent one to have been played, the Mariners beat the Athletics 4-2. The most exciting thing that happened in the game was a throwing error.
Closer Brandon League blew a save, embarrassing himself and proving that his All-Star selection was a grievous error, since the blown outing so soon after the All-Star announcement is a clear signal that League is incapable of handling the spotlight. People started to pay attention to him, the pressure built up, and he completely self-destructed. It's a familiar story. I have a feeling that we won’t be hearing much from him in the future. A baseball closer is like a marriage: if even one thing goes wrong, you should immediately chuck it and find someone new.
Also, Felix Hernandez pitched well. Felix Hernandez is good at pitching, as everyone knows. Was today’s game a sign that he might pitch well in the future? I have to say yes, and the data bears it out. Every time Felix has pitched a good game, he has gone on to pitch good games in the future. There’s no reason for the trend to stop now.
Afternoon game against the A’s “tomorrow”. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be a meek defeat in which the A’s only score a couple runs, but the Mariners never come close to even getting one. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m tellin’ ya, I just got a feeling about this one.
Behold, the data: The Mariners have scored between -2 and 17 runs in every game this season. The Mariners have allowed between -1 and 20 runs in every game this season. Every Mariners game has lasted between 12 and 600 minutes. Every game, the Mariners have had between 3 and 40 players take the field. Most crucially, the Mariners have either won or lost every single game. That's right. Every. Single. Game. Yes, the proof is in the pudding. The Mariners have played basically the same game, over and over again, night in and night out, 86 times in a row. And they’re barely even halfway done.
Today, in a game notable mostly for being the most recent one to have been played, the Mariners beat the Athletics 4-2. The most exciting thing that happened in the game was a throwing error.
Closer Brandon League blew a save, embarrassing himself and proving that his All-Star selection was a grievous error, since the blown outing so soon after the All-Star announcement is a clear signal that League is incapable of handling the spotlight. People started to pay attention to him, the pressure built up, and he completely self-destructed. It's a familiar story. I have a feeling that we won’t be hearing much from him in the future. A baseball closer is like a marriage: if even one thing goes wrong, you should immediately chuck it and find someone new.
Also, Felix Hernandez pitched well. Felix Hernandez is good at pitching, as everyone knows. Was today’s game a sign that he might pitch well in the future? I have to say yes, and the data bears it out. Every time Felix has pitched a good game, he has gone on to pitch good games in the future. There’s no reason for the trend to stop now.
Afternoon game against the A’s “tomorrow”. I have a sneaking suspicion that it will be a meek defeat in which the A’s only score a couple runs, but the Mariners never come close to even getting one. I hope I’m wrong, but I’m tellin’ ya, I just got a feeling about this one.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
July 4, 2011: Mariners 2, Athletics 1 (42-43)
Big things are happening in Seattle. As we speak, the teeming masses of Mariners fandom are all atwitter over the All-Star selection of closer Brandon League, who collected his American League leading 23rd save today. Although such a feat is impressive, (by definition, only one person can have the league lead at any given time*), it is not as meaningful as one might like to think. Now, I don’t mean to argue that League isn’t a legitimately good player. He’s a valuable player, and the Mariners should be happy to have him. I’m just saying that Brandon League is not in any way “so good he ought to be illegal”.
The problem is that saves aren’t a very individually-descriptive statistic. They’re heavily driven by team context, managerial decisions, and our old friend Dumb Luck. When you get right down to it, League’s league lead is due as much to the awfulness of the Mariners offense as it is to his own talents. It's like this: A save requires that the winning team be up by three or less runs when the closer enters the game**. On the year, the Mariners have averaged 3.39 runs scored and 3.45 runs allowed per game. Seriously, is it really that surprising that most of the Mariners' wins have come by three runs or less? Of course League is going to get plenty of opportunities to pad his league lead, purely by virtue of showing up to work. Should we really be praising a guy for managing to make it to work when he’s making millions of dollars to play a children’s game and usually clocking in after nine p.m.?
Yes. Yes, we should. Brandon League works very hard and is very good at his job. He’s literally one of the best in the world. Praise him all you want. All I’m saying is, don’t go overboard just because he happens to lead the league in the world’s most arbitrary statistic***. It’s perfectly ok to like League. Just be careful before you let yourself love him.
Oh yeah, the Mariners also won a game today. It was actually a rerun of the game from April 21, though, so I’m not going to dignify it with a response.
*unless there’s a tie
**unless it’s one of a bunch of other arbitrary scenarios that don’t require that
***this is hyperbole. Wins, batting average, and ERA are all at least as arbitrary as saves. And don’t even get me started about holds...
The problem is that saves aren’t a very individually-descriptive statistic. They’re heavily driven by team context, managerial decisions, and our old friend Dumb Luck. When you get right down to it, League’s league lead is due as much to the awfulness of the Mariners offense as it is to his own talents. It's like this: A save requires that the winning team be up by three or less runs when the closer enters the game**. On the year, the Mariners have averaged 3.39 runs scored and 3.45 runs allowed per game. Seriously, is it really that surprising that most of the Mariners' wins have come by three runs or less? Of course League is going to get plenty of opportunities to pad his league lead, purely by virtue of showing up to work. Should we really be praising a guy for managing to make it to work when he’s making millions of dollars to play a children’s game and usually clocking in after nine p.m.?
Yes. Yes, we should. Brandon League works very hard and is very good at his job. He’s literally one of the best in the world. Praise him all you want. All I’m saying is, don’t go overboard just because he happens to lead the league in the world’s most arbitrary statistic***. It’s perfectly ok to like League. Just be careful before you let yourself love him.
Oh yeah, the Mariners also won a game today. It was actually a rerun of the game from April 21, though, so I’m not going to dignify it with a response.
*unless there’s a tie
**unless it’s one of a bunch of other arbitrary scenarios that don’t require that
***this is hyperbole. Wins, batting average, and ERA are all at least as arbitrary as saves. And don’t even get me started about holds...
Monday, July 4, 2011
July 1-3, 2011: Mariners 9, Padres 2 (41-43)
They say that baseball is a game of percentages. That it’s a game of pure talent and productivity, individuals doing as they do night in, night out. They say that heart doesn’t matter, that chemistry doesn’t matter, that willpower doesn’t matter, that grit and hustle and believing big are all totally irrelevant. Watching this weekend’s series, I realized that they’re wrong. There is one thing, one emotion that can make all the difference in the world: hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred.
The Mariners and the Padres don’t like each other. Never have. There’s always been a sense of mutual loathing, but in recent years it’s spiraled into full-blown vitriol. These days, when these two teams play, it’s not just about winning a baseball game. It’s about humiliating the enemy, destroying their personhood and reminding them that you are the bird, and they are the worm. Baseball? This isn't baseball. It’s war. The normal rules do not apply.
That was on full display Saturday night, when the game was decided by the Padres’ Cameron Maybin’s choice to disregard usual protocol and take matters into his own hands. Maybin declared that he had earned a walk and then took first base, despite having received only three balls. Maybin’s confidence, chutzpah, and sheer force of personality paralyzed the stadium. The umpires said nothing. The Mariners said nothing. The fans said nothing. Not one person contested his executive action. Having demonstrated that he could do whatever he wanted, Maybin then chose to score the winning run from first base. It was an incredible heads-up play, a true brilliancy that will likely never be repeated. For that I say, "Cameron Maybin, you are a real man of genius."
Fortunately for the Mariners, Jason Vargas, Doug Fister, and Blake Beavan all channeled their rage into excellent pitching performances. For a few nights, each was able to transcend their usual selves and become something better. They pitched their asses off and beat the Padres into a fine powder, allowing the Mariners to take the series in spite of Maybin’s heroics. Unfortunately for the Mariners, they don’t get to keep playing the Padres. Next time, Jason Vargas will go back to being Jason Vargas, Doug Fister will go back to being Doug Fister, and Blake Beaven will go back to being whatever the hell he is. The Mariners won the war, but all victories are fleeting. Tomorrow, it’s back to the usual grind. Sic transit gloria mundi.
The Mariners and the Padres don’t like each other. Never have. There’s always been a sense of mutual loathing, but in recent years it’s spiraled into full-blown vitriol. These days, when these two teams play, it’s not just about winning a baseball game. It’s about humiliating the enemy, destroying their personhood and reminding them that you are the bird, and they are the worm. Baseball? This isn't baseball. It’s war. The normal rules do not apply.
That was on full display Saturday night, when the game was decided by the Padres’ Cameron Maybin’s choice to disregard usual protocol and take matters into his own hands. Maybin declared that he had earned a walk and then took first base, despite having received only three balls. Maybin’s confidence, chutzpah, and sheer force of personality paralyzed the stadium. The umpires said nothing. The Mariners said nothing. The fans said nothing. Not one person contested his executive action. Having demonstrated that he could do whatever he wanted, Maybin then chose to score the winning run from first base. It was an incredible heads-up play, a true brilliancy that will likely never be repeated. For that I say, "Cameron Maybin, you are a real man of genius."
Fortunately for the Mariners, Jason Vargas, Doug Fister, and Blake Beavan all channeled their rage into excellent pitching performances. For a few nights, each was able to transcend their usual selves and become something better. They pitched their asses off and beat the Padres into a fine powder, allowing the Mariners to take the series in spite of Maybin’s heroics. Unfortunately for the Mariners, they don’t get to keep playing the Padres. Next time, Jason Vargas will go back to being Jason Vargas, Doug Fister will go back to being Doug Fister, and Blake Beaven will go back to being whatever the hell he is. The Mariners won the war, but all victories are fleeting. Tomorrow, it’s back to the usual grind. Sic transit gloria mundi.
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