Value
There exists no consensus on what defines "most valuable" in the awarding of the Most Valuable Player award. At one extreme, Andre Dawson won the 1987 National League MVP while playing for a last-place team. On the other, in 1947, Joe DiMaggio defeated Ted Williams, despite the fact that Williams undoubtedly had the better offensive season: not only did he win the triple crown, but led DiMaggio in every offensive category except stolen bases (the Yankee Clipper had three). DiMaggio, on the other hand, was the better defender (and played a more important position), hit in 56 consecutive games, and played for a better team. The Yankees won the American League by 12 games over Detroit; Boston was 14 games behind.
Stat geeks will argue that the most valuable player is simply the best player in his respective league. Newer statistics like Win Shares or Value Over Replacement total up a player's contributions and allow fans to see who is most outstanding. A baseball player cannot improve the skills of the players around him. Why should that player be disqualified from the MVP award? It's not Derek Lee's fault that the Cubs pitchers have been injured -- he's had an amazing year regardless. The Cubs have disappointed their fans this year, but not because of Derek Lee.
I don't know what to think. The aforementioned Stat Geeks have concluded that clutch hitters do not exist. Great hitters are often clutch, but in the decades of professional baseball, there has yet to be a player who is always better in important situations than in all others. While this debate ranges, it is inarguable that whether or not clutch hitters exist, clutch hits do.
I just finished Alan Schwartz's outstanding book, The Numbers Game, which details the history of baseball's relationship to its statistics. Among the many revelations in the book are the many attempts to quantify clutch hitting. One fan divided each players' batting average with runners in scoring position by his overall batting average to see whose hits mattered. Another fan used a very complex formula (not revealed in the book) and zillions of computer simulations to determine how player's actions improved or damaged his team's chance of winning a particular game.
For example -- and I'm making up the numbers here -- at the start of the ninth inning of a tie game, both teams have a 50 percent chance of winning. If the first hitter for the visiting team hits a homerun, then there's an 80 percent chance his team will win. Using this idea, this player would earn 60 points because he's improved his team's odds of winning by 60 percent ((.80)-(.50))/.50=.60). A player who hits a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth with his team trailing by 3 runs earns a bazillion points because he's completely turned the game around -- a small chance at winning has become 100 percent. I love this idea, even though it's preposterously complex.
I also love this idea because it gets around what I've always called the Palmeiro Index -- certain players only seem to succeed when the game is, for all intents and purposes decided. A 9th-inning homerun in an 8-1 game doesn't really change the likelihood of whose team is going to win, and most statistics -- however simple or complex -- treat each event the same regardless of the score or the situation.
Alex Rodriguez is the best player in the American League. He's a great fielder at a tough position. He's leading his team in batting average, home runs, RBI, runs scored, and OPS. But David Ortiz has been more valuable.
Stat geeks will argue that the most valuable player is simply the best player in his respective league. Newer statistics like Win Shares or Value Over Replacement total up a player's contributions and allow fans to see who is most outstanding. A baseball player cannot improve the skills of the players around him. Why should that player be disqualified from the MVP award? It's not Derek Lee's fault that the Cubs pitchers have been injured -- he's had an amazing year regardless. The Cubs have disappointed their fans this year, but not because of Derek Lee.
I don't know what to think. The aforementioned Stat Geeks have concluded that clutch hitters do not exist. Great hitters are often clutch, but in the decades of professional baseball, there has yet to be a player who is always better in important situations than in all others. While this debate ranges, it is inarguable that whether or not clutch hitters exist, clutch hits do.
I just finished Alan Schwartz's outstanding book, The Numbers Game, which details the history of baseball's relationship to its statistics. Among the many revelations in the book are the many attempts to quantify clutch hitting. One fan divided each players' batting average with runners in scoring position by his overall batting average to see whose hits mattered. Another fan used a very complex formula (not revealed in the book) and zillions of computer simulations to determine how player's actions improved or damaged his team's chance of winning a particular game.
For example -- and I'm making up the numbers here -- at the start of the ninth inning of a tie game, both teams have a 50 percent chance of winning. If the first hitter for the visiting team hits a homerun, then there's an 80 percent chance his team will win. Using this idea, this player would earn 60 points because he's improved his team's odds of winning by 60 percent ((.80)-(.50))/.50=.60). A player who hits a grand slam in the bottom of the ninth with his team trailing by 3 runs earns a bazillion points because he's completely turned the game around -- a small chance at winning has become 100 percent. I love this idea, even though it's preposterously complex.
I also love this idea because it gets around what I've always called the Palmeiro Index -- certain players only seem to succeed when the game is, for all intents and purposes decided. A 9th-inning homerun in an 8-1 game doesn't really change the likelihood of whose team is going to win, and most statistics -- however simple or complex -- treat each event the same regardless of the score or the situation.
Alex Rodriguez is the best player in the American League. He's a great fielder at a tough position. He's leading his team in batting average, home runs, RBI, runs scored, and OPS. But David Ortiz has been more valuable.
posted by Josh at
Thursday, September 15, 2005
2 Comments:
I don't buy it, this anti-DH argument. If David Ortiz played first base as well as Manny Ramirez played left field (and he does, basically, play first about as well as Kevin Millar does), there would be no argument. But he's a DH, and a really good one.
The essential question that has not been answered is whether the award is supposed to go to the player who is most valuable to his team (which might be a guy like Gary Sheffield) or who is the most valuable in the league (which would open up the possibilty for an Andre Dawson to win again).
But in the significant number of games that the Red Sox have won, David Ortiz has been the reason. Alex Rodriguez has a significantly higher Palmeiro Index.
By
Josh, at 5:22 PM
I think Saturday's game was a great example of what I've been trying to say -- even though one game shouldn't be anything more than a cautionary example. A-Rod, stastically, had a great game. Four hits, two runs and an RBI, coming on a homerun. And yet I think anyone watching the game would come away thinking that Sheffield's one homerun in four at bats was somehow more important than anything that A-Rod did.
I like this example because it allows our Yankee-fan rivals to see what we're talking about without the haze of any anti-Sox bias. A-Rod hit a homerun -- yes. It happened. It happened in the fifth inning of 6-2 game with no one on base. It really didn't CHANGE the game at all. Sheffield's homerun was bigger than A-Rod's. More important. More valuable.
Yes, Ham -- all big hits don't happen in the 9th inning of a tie game. I grew up as a Celtics fan, and I remember Larry Bird winning games with last-second shots. But I also remember -- quite clearly -- games that he won in the third quarter so that he wouldn't have to hit a buzzer beater in the fourth. I would never denegrate the achievements of a guy who has hit the more homers as a right-hander than any Yankee ever. I would never denegrate the talent of the youngest man ever to hit 400 homeruns and seems to have an outstanding chance of hitting the most ever.
But this year, I don't think he's the most valuable player in the American League. And yesterday, no matter how impressive his individual achievements, Alex Rodgriguez was not particularly valuable. The Yankees would have won if Luis Sojo had been playing third base. The Yankees might have lost if Raul Mondesi was the rightfielder.
The basic stat -- how many homers have won the game or tied it? -- is too thin, as Neyer's column shows. Fortunately, some dork did the hard work for me:
Ortiz gets BETTER in close games, A-Rod gets WORSE.
"Rodriguez has hit .544/ .613/ 1.177 in games that the Yankees have won by 6 runs or more, while going 1-16 with a SF and no BB or XBH in the Yankees' 4 extra-inning losses. In only 2 of the Yankees' 18 victories by 6 or more runs did Rodriguez's R + RBI total even approach the margin of victory."
Welcome to my world. David Ortiz is the most valuable player.
By
Josh, at 11:15 AM
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