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Currently at Toronto Pearson: 16. High today: 25. Forecast highs for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday: 28, 29, 30. Even if those are off by five degrees, this will be warmer than any Thanksgiving weekend I remember. The highest temperature recorded at Pearson in October is 30.6, on 5 October 1951; at EC's "Toronto" station, which Uncle Wikipedia informs me is in The Annex, which is not far from where I am presently, the October record is 30, set on 7 October 1963.
So, Canadians: you know those Bell beavers? You know how, every now and then, you think, gee, that one beaver sure sounds a lot like Norm Macdonald? I looked it up a few weeks ago. It is Norm Macdonald.
Speaking of people degrading themselves: for some reason, we watched the Simpsons season premiere last week, and after a while, I started to think, that voice, it sounds ... familiar. It sounds like ... one of Jon Stewart's correspondents. Rob Corddry? ... no ... oh, no ... it's Colbert. WHY, STEPHEN, WHY? Moreover, McGirk from Home Movies is on Family Guy. DOES NO ONE HAVE ANY PRIDE?
Today I voted in an advance poll for the first time. I did it because I went to register to vote because I thought they had made registering harder for this election--though, as it turned out, it was exactly the same as it's always been--and there happened to be an advance poll there. It felt kind of imprudent, like, you know, maybe THE TERRORISTS WILL STRIKE before next Wednesday and then I will realize that I should've voted for somebody else. I can't really see what difference THE TERRORISTS would make to who I should vote for, though. Possibly if Jesus came back before next Wednesday then I would realize that I should've voted for the Family Coalition Party. (I came to my senses and voted for MMP, which may be a sign that I am giving up some of the conservative pretensions I have acquired in the last several years. Nothing like an election campaign to clarify that what's good about the current system is good in theory only. Having come to my senses, I feel kind of bad about not having done anything to help the MMP cause before it was lost--sorry,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pnijjar--though it was probably lost from the get-go.)
After I voted, I went to the park and saw mushrooms growing out of trees, and a little white dog named Hector. Hector belonged to an old and very slow man, who very slowly sat down on the bench beside me while Hector poked around in the leaves. The old man called Hector over, and Hector came, and then went back to poke in the leaves; the old man called Hector over again, and Hector poked around in the leaves for a while more, and the old man called again, and Hector came over, and then ran far, far away. He came back eventually. What do they think they are doing, these dogs? They think they are doing things. My sister's baby, my nephew, my stars, what does he think he's doing, lying there and squirming and making noises and not being able to go anywhere or do anything or anything and here is the world all around and only the smallest bits of it only slighly are anything at all--and all you can do is lie there and try to make something of it. It's utterly astounding.
And now, we return you to the conclusion of BASEBALL. First, after I did a bit of number-crunching on my fantasy league yesterday, I was shocked to discover that I would've won it if the last-place team was eliminated--the first-place team's spread against the last-place team was 25-3; my spread against the last-place team was 19-9. So, a very interesting voting-theory analogue there, and another reason never to play fantasy baseball again, or at least to get all that excited about whether I'm going to win or not. It may actually be a reason to play fantasy baseball again, given that it's a reason not to get all that excited about whether I win or not, and that it's an interesting voting-theory analogue.
Now, let's talk some more about range factor, and why Derek Jeter, who has won the American League Gold Glove award for shortstops the last three years, may be the worst defensive shortstop in major league history. This year, Derek Jeter finished thirteenth out of fourteen #1 American League shortstops in range factor. This is, in Derek Jeter's twelve-year career, the fifth time he has failed to finish last. He finished last every year from 1998 to 2003. He finished last again last year, before being nudged out of last place this year by Brendan Harris, who has no business being a shortstop--but then, apparently, neither does Derek Jeter. Apparently, because here's the thing: in 2005, Jeter was third in range factor, after having been eighth the year before, and before plummeting to fourteenth a year later. (In 2005, Jeter was also third among #1 AL shortstops in fielding percentage. Statistically, he actually deserved his Gold Glove that year! But that was the second year, in a row, that he won a Gold Glove. In 2004, he wasn't a terrible choice; he was second in fielding percentage and eighth in range factor. But I strongly suspect he really won it that year partly as a consolation prize for having Alex Rodriguez on his team, and mostly for making that ridiculous diving-into-the-stands catch against the Red Sox (which I have always thought was at least partly motivated by a neurotic need to upstage, impress, or whatever, Alex Rodriguez).)
What in the world can this possibly mean? It appears that what it must mean is that range factor doesn't actually reliably measure anything much about the individual player. A reasonable guess would be that for most of Jeter's career, the Yankees have had flyball pitchers, and then, suddenly, in 2004 and 2005, threw a lot more ground balls, before reverting in 2006. So, who left the Yankees pitching staff after 2003? Most prominently, Roger Clemens and Andy Pettitte, both of whom threw more groundballs than average (which surprises me about Clemens, but it's there in the numbers; for the last several years, he's been close to 50%, until this year); in 2006 and 2007, the Yankees have had Chien-Ming Wang, who throws an extraordinary number of ground balls. It's also possible that in 2004 Jeter took more balls to his right than he had before because A-Rod didn't know what he was doing at third base. You might suppose that 2004 and 2005 were just lousy years for American League shortstops, except that, as a matter of fact, the AL average range factor for shortstops dropped significantly in 2006 and 2007 from what it was in 2004 and 2005.
In any event: the stat-heads now have a stat called "Revised Zone Rating", which measures the number of balls hit into a player's "zone" on the field which he turns into outs. The Hardball Times, which has stats back to 2004, lists Jeter's RZR numbers since then as .801, .792, .805, and .777. (John McDonald's RZR numbers at shortstop last year and this year: .837 and .843.) I can't find anything definite on this, but the average for shorstops is apparently somewhere around the .820s. So, in the year Jeter had his best range factor relative to other American League shortstops (and, in absolute terms, the best number of his career), his RZR actually went down from the year before, and was lower than the next year, when he reverted to having the lowest range factor in the league. So, while I don't know what kind of voodoo they do to come up with Revised Zone Rating, and while the numbers for it are not readily available in many useful forms on the interweb, my guess is that it's a much better indicator of a player's range than range factor is--but if you finish last in the league at your position in range factor for a majority of the years of your career, you probably do actually stink, even if you somehow manage to have a good year in range factor here or there. (In 1999, Tony Batista was third in range factor among #1 AL shortstops. If Tony Batista can be third once, being third once don't mean diddly.)
Next: I finally did some poking around yesterday on my Don't Trust a Knuckleballer in the Playoffs Theory, which I have held since Tom Candiotti killed the Jays in 1991. (My theory: in the regular season, hitters won't generally bother adjusting their approaches to hit the knuckler, but when there's a lot riding on one game, they will.) Tim Wakefield's career regular-season ERA is 4.33. His post-season ERA is 6.12. Candiotti: 3.73 and 6.52. But the ERAs don't split the same way for earlier knuckleballers. Among knuckleballers with nine or more innings pitched in the playoffs, Charlie Hough was a run worse in the playoffs--3.75 vs. 4.82. Phil Niekro: 3.35 vs. 3.86. But Joe Niekro, who had a 3.59 regular-season ERA, didn't give up a single earned run in 20 post-season innings. And some guy called Jesse Haines--who is actually in the Hall of Fame, for some reason, that reason apparently being that he was the first successful knuckleball pitcher--splits 3.64 vs. 1.67 (in 32.1 innings). (Wilbur Wood never pitched in the playoffs, and Hoyt Wilhelm only threw two and a third (scoreless) innings.)
Finally, courtesy The Hardball Times, I have recently learned that two out of the three Cy Young Award winners who failed to get a single MVP vote were Blue Jays, and that Lou Piniella's Mariners had the two worst leadoff-hitters' on-base percentages relative to their team's on-base percentage in baseball history. But I also learned from a Bill James book I picked up last week that Computer Simulations Have Proven that you can pick your batting order out of a hat and it won't make any significant difference in the number of runs you score--although the debate still rages as to whether La Russa is helping or hurting his team by hitting his pitcher eighth.
You could look it up.
(And you thought I couldn't possibly come up with anything more boring than Gettier to go on and on and on about.)
So, Canadians: you know those Bell beavers? You know how, every now and then, you think, gee, that one beaver sure sounds a lot like Norm Macdonald? I looked it up a few weeks ago. It is Norm Macdonald.
Speaking of people degrading themselves: for some reason, we watched the Simpsons season premiere last week, and after a while, I started to think, that voice, it sounds ... familiar. It sounds like ... one of Jon Stewart's correspondents. Rob Corddry? ... no ... oh, no ... it's Colbert. WHY, STEPHEN, WHY? Moreover, McGirk from Home Movies is on Family Guy. DOES NO ONE HAVE ANY PRIDE?
Today I voted in an advance poll for the first time. I did it because I went to register to vote because I thought they had made registering harder for this election--though, as it turned out, it was exactly the same as it's always been--and there happened to be an advance poll there. It felt kind of imprudent, like, you know, maybe THE TERRORISTS WILL STRIKE before next Wednesday and then I will realize that I should've voted for somebody else. I can't really see what difference THE TERRORISTS would make to who I should vote for, though. Possibly if Jesus came back before next Wednesday then I would realize that I should've voted for the Family Coalition Party. (I came to my senses and voted for MMP, which may be a sign that I am giving up some of the conservative pretensions I have acquired in the last several years. Nothing like an election campaign to clarify that what's good about the current system is good in theory only. Having come to my senses, I feel kind of bad about not having done anything to help the MMP cause before it was lost--sorry,
pnijjar--though it was probably lost from the get-go.)After I voted, I went to the park and saw mushrooms growing out of trees, and a little white dog named Hector. Hector belonged to an old and very slow man, who very slowly sat down on the bench beside me while Hector poked around in the leaves. The old man called Hector over, and Hector came, and then went back to poke in the leaves; the old man called Hector over again, and Hector poked around in the leaves for a while more, and the old man called again, and Hector came over, and then ran far, far away. He came back eventually. What do they think they are doing, these dogs? They think they are doing things. My sister's baby, my nephew, my stars, what does he think he's doing, lying there and squirming and making noises and not being able to go anywhere or do anything or anything and here is the world all around and only the smallest bits of it only slighly are anything at all--and all you can do is lie there and try to make something of it. It's utterly astounding.
And now, we return you to the conclusion of BASEBALL. First, after I did a bit of number-crunching on my fantasy league yesterday, I was shocked to discover that I would've won it if the last-place team was eliminated--the first-place team's spread against the last-place team was 25-3; my spread against the last-place team was 19-9. So, a very interesting voting-theory analogue there, and another reason never to play fantasy baseball again, or at least to get all that excited about whether I'm going to win or not. It may actually be a reason to play fantasy baseball again, given that it's a reason not to get all that excited about whether I win or not, and that it's an interesting voting-theory analogue.
Now, let's talk some more about range factor, and why Derek Jeter, who has won the American League Gold Glove award for shortstops the last three years, may be the worst defensive shortstop in major league history. This year, Derek Jeter finished thirteenth out of fourteen #1 American League shortstops in range factor. This is, in Derek Jeter's twelve-year career, the fifth time he has failed to finish last. He finished last every year from 1998 to 2003. He finished last again last year, before being nudged out of last place this year by Brendan Harris, who has no business being a shortstop--but then, apparently, neither does Derek Jeter. Apparently, because here's the thing: in 2005, Jeter was third in range factor, after having been eighth the year before, and before plummeting to fourteenth a year later. (In 2005, Jeter was also third among #1 AL shortstops in fielding percentage. Statistically, he actually deserved his Gold Glove that year! But that was the second year, in a row, that he won a Gold Glove. In 2004, he wasn't a terrible choice; he was second in fielding percentage and eighth in range factor. But I strongly suspect he really won it that year partly as a consolation prize for having Alex Rodriguez on his team, and mostly for making that ridiculous diving-into-the-stands catch against the Red Sox (which I have always thought was at least partly motivated by a neurotic need to upstage, impress, or whatever, Alex Rodriguez).)
What in the world can this possibly mean? It appears that what it must mean is that range factor doesn't actually reliably measure anything much about the individual player. A reasonable guess would be that for most of Jeter's career, the Yankees have had flyball pitchers, and then, suddenly, in 2004 and 2005, threw a lot more ground balls, before reverting in 2006. So, who left the Yankees pitching staff after 2003? Most prominently, Roger Clemens and Andy Pettitte, both of whom threw more groundballs than average (which surprises me about Clemens, but it's there in the numbers; for the last several years, he's been close to 50%, until this year); in 2006 and 2007, the Yankees have had Chien-Ming Wang, who throws an extraordinary number of ground balls. It's also possible that in 2004 Jeter took more balls to his right than he had before because A-Rod didn't know what he was doing at third base. You might suppose that 2004 and 2005 were just lousy years for American League shortstops, except that, as a matter of fact, the AL average range factor for shortstops dropped significantly in 2006 and 2007 from what it was in 2004 and 2005.
In any event: the stat-heads now have a stat called "Revised Zone Rating", which measures the number of balls hit into a player's "zone" on the field which he turns into outs. The Hardball Times, which has stats back to 2004, lists Jeter's RZR numbers since then as .801, .792, .805, and .777. (John McDonald's RZR numbers at shortstop last year and this year: .837 and .843.) I can't find anything definite on this, but the average for shorstops is apparently somewhere around the .820s. So, in the year Jeter had his best range factor relative to other American League shortstops (and, in absolute terms, the best number of his career), his RZR actually went down from the year before, and was lower than the next year, when he reverted to having the lowest range factor in the league. So, while I don't know what kind of voodoo they do to come up with Revised Zone Rating, and while the numbers for it are not readily available in many useful forms on the interweb, my guess is that it's a much better indicator of a player's range than range factor is--but if you finish last in the league at your position in range factor for a majority of the years of your career, you probably do actually stink, even if you somehow manage to have a good year in range factor here or there. (In 1999, Tony Batista was third in range factor among #1 AL shortstops. If Tony Batista can be third once, being third once don't mean diddly.)
Next: I finally did some poking around yesterday on my Don't Trust a Knuckleballer in the Playoffs Theory, which I have held since Tom Candiotti killed the Jays in 1991. (My theory: in the regular season, hitters won't generally bother adjusting their approaches to hit the knuckler, but when there's a lot riding on one game, they will.) Tim Wakefield's career regular-season ERA is 4.33. His post-season ERA is 6.12. Candiotti: 3.73 and 6.52. But the ERAs don't split the same way for earlier knuckleballers. Among knuckleballers with nine or more innings pitched in the playoffs, Charlie Hough was a run worse in the playoffs--3.75 vs. 4.82. Phil Niekro: 3.35 vs. 3.86. But Joe Niekro, who had a 3.59 regular-season ERA, didn't give up a single earned run in 20 post-season innings. And some guy called Jesse Haines--who is actually in the Hall of Fame, for some reason, that reason apparently being that he was the first successful knuckleball pitcher--splits 3.64 vs. 1.67 (in 32.1 innings). (Wilbur Wood never pitched in the playoffs, and Hoyt Wilhelm only threw two and a third (scoreless) innings.)
Finally, courtesy The Hardball Times, I have recently learned that two out of the three Cy Young Award winners who failed to get a single MVP vote were Blue Jays, and that Lou Piniella's Mariners had the two worst leadoff-hitters' on-base percentages relative to their team's on-base percentage in baseball history. But I also learned from a Bill James book I picked up last week that Computer Simulations Have Proven that you can pick your batting order out of a hat and it won't make any significant difference in the number of runs you score--although the debate still rages as to whether La Russa is helping or hurting his team by hitting his pitcher eighth.
You could look it up.
(And you thought I couldn't possibly come up with anything more boring than Gettier to go on and on and on about.)
