As devoted readers of this blog can tell you, I would rather my team get blown out than lose in agonizing fashion. To me this is a self-evident truth, but I understand why there is some misguided opposition. Marquette's miracle comeback in the round of 64 against Davidson provided an excellent case study to my position. Before I begin with that case study I am going to elucidate what I mean by an agonizing loss.
Sometimes your team will get blown out and other times they will just barely suffer defeat. At the latter end of the spectrum exists the dreaded stomach punch loss that leaves you in a daze for weeks. A necessary condition for a stomach punch loss is an error, or series of errors, by the losing team that either directly leads to defeat or significantly increases the likelihood of defeat. Such an error was committed by De'mon Brooks of Davidson in their devastating loss to Marquette. (Highlights can be found HERE)
A lot needed to happen for Marquette to mount a comeback. Trailing 56-51 with 30 seconds to play, Vander Blue hit a three-pointer that cut the lead to two. Had the shot missed, Davidson would have almost been guaranteed victory. Instead they were fouled, hit two free throws, and extended the lead back to four. A few moments later Jamil Wilson hit a three point shot with 10 seconds left that pulled Marquette within one. Up to this point Davidson did everything correct. They forced Marquette, the 318th ranked three-point shooting team in the nation, to take heavily contested shots from downtown: the shots just happened to go in. Also, in between the shots Davidson hit a pair of free throws. So far, so good. After the second three pointer in the sequence, however, Davidson made a crucial error which illustrates why losing stomach punch games are worse than any alternative.
The Wildcats as a team shoot free throws at an 80% rate. Bob McKillop, their fantastic head coach, stresses free throws above anything else. And with good reason: in late game situations they are the key to victory. De'mon Brooks in-bounded the ball after the Golden Eagles pulled within one and was promptly passed the ball. He was immediately swarmed by Marquette defenders who were trying to foul him. As a 75% free throw shooter, Brooks would have been wise to take the foul and go to the line. Doing so would most likely extend the Davidson lead to 3 and force a terrible three point shooting team to do something they are terrible at doing. Instead he sent an errant pass that led Nik Cochran out of bounds and gave the ball back to Marquette. This was a horrible decision that significantly altered the probable outcome of the game. The dynamic Vander Blue was given an opportunity to drive to the bucket, which as St. John's will tell you, is something he's very good at doing. Blue hit the a layup with one second left and gave Marquette a thrilling 59-58 victory.
This was a game Davidson had in the bag. They lost in large part because Marquette got inexplicably hot at the exact right time, but ultimately it was their unforced error that decided the game. It's this error that makes Davidson's loss much worse than a blowout. If a team makes miracle shots and you lose, all there is to do is tip your cap and move on. But the acute errors that lose games are what gnaw away at your will to be. They cause you to dream a dream where you lost by 20 points. In addition to directly facilitating defeat, the acute error committed by Brooks is particularly devastating for three reasons.
First, you must consider the aforementioned philosophy of Davidson: make your free throws. The decision to make a dangerous pass instead of accepting a trip to the line runs perpendicular to Davidson's identity. The final mechanism for defeat was the result of Brooks forgoing a huge component of what the Wildcats are. This cuts deeper than a conventional loss because they did not play Davidson basketball when they needed to most. It's hard to imagine something more frustrating than that.
Second, the Davidson Wildcats are a mid-major that rarely gets an opportunity to accomplish anything of consequence on the national stage of college basketball. This is an unfortunate reality considering the excellent program Bob McKillop has built and maintained, but its true nonetheless. At stake was an opportunity to showcase The Davidson Wildcats to the world. A victory would cause the pundits to sing their praises and, more importantly, allow them to play another game and perform another 40-minute showcase on a more concentrated stage. Davidson did play admirably and earned a lot of praise, but the reality is that their basketball capital was mostly erased when Vander Blue's layup when through the hoop. The conversation focused more on Brook's Boner than the fact Davidson is arguably a better team than Marquette.
Finally, Davidson had a terrific season. They won the Southern League regular season title and post season tournament. They also entered the NCAA tournament with the longest winning streak in the nation (17). Had Marquette won by 15 they would be more able to reflect on what they accomplished in 2012-2013. They can still do that (and they should), but they also will have to deal with the nagging feeling of what could have been. With this in mind, how is losing like they did a better option than a blowout?
The correct answer to the question posed by this post is "I would rather win." Even so, it's impossible to ignore that stomach punch losses are agonizing parasites that stick with you for a long time. Given the choice, it's better to just lose and move on. Of course, that's only if winning is not an option.
Saturday, March 23, 2013
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Where There's Smoke, There's Technicalities
Those familiar with the ongoing Ryan Braun PED saga tend to believe he's a cheater. That his suspension was overturned on appeal is irrelevant because he, as his many detractors will say, won on a technicality. His public image was not helped by his name appearing in the books of known PED peddler Anthony Bosch. The smoke-fire idiom is in full effect with Braun and it's difficult to argue in his favor. But as a overly charitable soul and avid Brewer fan, that's precisely what I'm going to do.
Ryan Braun donated urine prior to Game One of the 2011 NLDS for drug testing. Upon examination it was determined his sample had an absurdly high testosterone-epitestosterone ratio. This generally happens when people take PEDs, which in Braun's case was cause for a 50-game suspension. He miraculously avoided suspension after winning his appeal. The convention wisdom is Braun got off on a technicality and the independent arbitrator that ruled in his favor was insane (and later fired by MLB). You fail a drug test because you cheated, end of story. Then again, maybe not.
Where there's smoke, there's fire, but the fire might be different that you would expect. Though I cannot prove Braun is innocent (and I have my doubts) that fact he won his appeal warrants far more favor for his case than it currently receives. Maybe, just maybe, his victorious appeal is evidence of innocence. Just as you don't fail a test without cheating, you don't win an appeal without a good case. The Braun saga is especially complicated because both things happened to him. Even so, he at least raises a reasonable doubt to his guilt. If you are still adamant that Braun is a cheater that got off on a technicality, I would question your contention that technicalities are bad. In fact, the opposite is true.
The implication of drug testing is that players are guilty until proven innocent. Though this diametrically opposed to the American legal system, the prevalence of doping in high stakes athletic competition makes it a defensible evil. It also makes it extremely important that the rights of the players are vigilantly protected. With massive lumps of money and reputations on the line, strict adherence to due process is absolutely critical, even if it means a guilty person goes unpunished (though I'm not referring to Braun as he's clearly innocent).
The crux of Braun's argument was that the chain of custody with his urine sample was broken. Instead of immediately going to a FedEx it spent the weekend hanging out in the basement of the sample collector. The protocol is that samples are to immediately be taken to FedEx to be shipped the next day. Does this process matter? Yes, and quite a bit. What if the sample was in his house for one week? One month? One year? What if you, humble reader of the blog, failed a drug test at work and later learned your sample was hanging around some dude's basement for a weekend? Does that mean you did not take drugs? No. Does it mean your sample is valid evidence of wrongdoing? Absolutely not. Your right to a fair trail is of utmost importance and anything that compromises that must be discarded. This is how Braun won his appeal, and guilty or not, is absolutely what should have happened.
Finally, let's all just cool it on declaring people cheaters. Gio Gonzalez of the Nationals appeared in the same books as Braun and quickly issued a denial. Those that appeared in the Biogenesis books did so because they were taking PEDs, except for players like Gio Gonzalez that did not receive and PEDs from Biogenesis. Sometimes people actually tell the truth about not cheating. Until everyone is undoubtedly lying, maybe we'd be better holding off judgement until they're proven guilty.
Ryan Braun donated urine prior to Game One of the 2011 NLDS for drug testing. Upon examination it was determined his sample had an absurdly high testosterone-epitestosterone ratio. This generally happens when people take PEDs, which in Braun's case was cause for a 50-game suspension. He miraculously avoided suspension after winning his appeal. The convention wisdom is Braun got off on a technicality and the independent arbitrator that ruled in his favor was insane (and later fired by MLB). You fail a drug test because you cheated, end of story. Then again, maybe not.
Where there's smoke, there's fire, but the fire might be different that you would expect. Though I cannot prove Braun is innocent (and I have my doubts) that fact he won his appeal warrants far more favor for his case than it currently receives. Maybe, just maybe, his victorious appeal is evidence of innocence. Just as you don't fail a test without cheating, you don't win an appeal without a good case. The Braun saga is especially complicated because both things happened to him. Even so, he at least raises a reasonable doubt to his guilt. If you are still adamant that Braun is a cheater that got off on a technicality, I would question your contention that technicalities are bad. In fact, the opposite is true.
The implication of drug testing is that players are guilty until proven innocent. Though this diametrically opposed to the American legal system, the prevalence of doping in high stakes athletic competition makes it a defensible evil. It also makes it extremely important that the rights of the players are vigilantly protected. With massive lumps of money and reputations on the line, strict adherence to due process is absolutely critical, even if it means a guilty person goes unpunished (though I'm not referring to Braun as he's clearly innocent).
The crux of Braun's argument was that the chain of custody with his urine sample was broken. Instead of immediately going to a FedEx it spent the weekend hanging out in the basement of the sample collector. The protocol is that samples are to immediately be taken to FedEx to be shipped the next day. Does this process matter? Yes, and quite a bit. What if the sample was in his house for one week? One month? One year? What if you, humble reader of the blog, failed a drug test at work and later learned your sample was hanging around some dude's basement for a weekend? Does that mean you did not take drugs? No. Does it mean your sample is valid evidence of wrongdoing? Absolutely not. Your right to a fair trail is of utmost importance and anything that compromises that must be discarded. This is how Braun won his appeal, and guilty or not, is absolutely what should have happened.
Finally, let's all just cool it on declaring people cheaters. Gio Gonzalez of the Nationals appeared in the same books as Braun and quickly issued a denial. Those that appeared in the Biogenesis books did so because they were taking PEDs, except for players like Gio Gonzalez that did not receive and PEDs from Biogenesis. Sometimes people actually tell the truth about not cheating. Until everyone is undoubtedly lying, maybe we'd be better holding off judgement until they're proven guilty.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
The Myth of Clutch
The concept of clutch is one facet of sports where I believe I am correct and every one else is mistaken. This is to say that I do not believe that certain athletes have the ability to raise their performance when the game is on the line and their team needs a big play to get the win. There are several compelling reason for this, but in the interest of posting something on this blog I'm going to focus on one.
The common perception of clutch is that it only exists in high-leverage situations. For example, a classic clutch scenario is when a football team is down by six points with the ball on their 20 yard line and 90 seconds to play. If the team scores, they'll most likely win the game (unless they're the Seahawks). If they don't score, they'll certainly lose. Thus, a QB that can lead you on a game winning drive is the guy you want on your team because he comes through when it really counts. The problem with this definition of clutch is that it's far, far too narrow. When you broaden the scope you quickly realize that pretty much every situation in a high-profile sports game in clutch. The idea of "coming though when it counts" is highly flawed because it always counts. A certain performance by the current backup QB of the Seahawks demonstrates this perfectly.
Matt Flynn became an unrestricted free agent after the 2011 NFL season. That year the Packers had everything wrapped up by Week 16 after tearing through the regular season. This allow the Packers to rest starters for the last game of the season against Detroit Lions, a team that was playing to win as they had playoff seeding considerations. The most notable Packer on the bench was Aaron Rodgers, which gave Flynn a golden opportunity to make himself lots of money in the off-season. With a big contract on the line Flynn threw for 480 yards and a team record 6 touchdowns. To cap it off, he led the Packers to a game-winning touchdown with 16 seconds left. Flynn ended up signing a 3-year, $19.5 mil contract with Seattle in March of 2012.
Few people will consider Flynn's performance clutch, but it's hard to find a better example of excellence when so much is on the line. What's more, these hidden clutch performances happen constantly. For starters, there is a tremendous amount of pressure that comes with playing in front of 70,000 fans and millions more on TV. There is also the issue of professional sports being extraordinarily competitive. Clutch situation or not, if you're not playing well you're off the team. A few dropped passes by the wide receiver that's 5th on the depth chart in a pre-season game could be the difference between making the roster and selling cars. This is to say the clutch exists and every athlete on a professional roster is clutch.
Other reasons I do not believe in clutch include the difficulty of proving it exists and the fact that the most clutch athletes also tend to be the best athletes. Assuming there are comments, I'll expand on these ideas more later.
Toodles!
The common perception of clutch is that it only exists in high-leverage situations. For example, a classic clutch scenario is when a football team is down by six points with the ball on their 20 yard line and 90 seconds to play. If the team scores, they'll most likely win the game (unless they're the Seahawks). If they don't score, they'll certainly lose. Thus, a QB that can lead you on a game winning drive is the guy you want on your team because he comes through when it really counts. The problem with this definition of clutch is that it's far, far too narrow. When you broaden the scope you quickly realize that pretty much every situation in a high-profile sports game in clutch. The idea of "coming though when it counts" is highly flawed because it always counts. A certain performance by the current backup QB of the Seahawks demonstrates this perfectly.
Matt Flynn became an unrestricted free agent after the 2011 NFL season. That year the Packers had everything wrapped up by Week 16 after tearing through the regular season. This allow the Packers to rest starters for the last game of the season against Detroit Lions, a team that was playing to win as they had playoff seeding considerations. The most notable Packer on the bench was Aaron Rodgers, which gave Flynn a golden opportunity to make himself lots of money in the off-season. With a big contract on the line Flynn threw for 480 yards and a team record 6 touchdowns. To cap it off, he led the Packers to a game-winning touchdown with 16 seconds left. Flynn ended up signing a 3-year, $19.5 mil contract with Seattle in March of 2012.
Few people will consider Flynn's performance clutch, but it's hard to find a better example of excellence when so much is on the line. What's more, these hidden clutch performances happen constantly. For starters, there is a tremendous amount of pressure that comes with playing in front of 70,000 fans and millions more on TV. There is also the issue of professional sports being extraordinarily competitive. Clutch situation or not, if you're not playing well you're off the team. A few dropped passes by the wide receiver that's 5th on the depth chart in a pre-season game could be the difference between making the roster and selling cars. This is to say the clutch exists and every athlete on a professional roster is clutch.
Other reasons I do not believe in clutch include the difficulty of proving it exists and the fact that the most clutch athletes also tend to be the best athletes. Assuming there are comments, I'll expand on these ideas more later.
Toodles!
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Preferred manner of defeat
On Saturday night the Packers were systematically dismantled by the 49ers. It became obvious early in the 4th quarter that an act of God was required for the Packers to win. Sadly, there would me no miracles for the Packers on this evening en route to a 45-31 throttling.
Less than 24 hours later the Seahawks were in a similar position to the Packers, only this time God made an appearance...that ultimately demonstrated His disdain for Seattle sports teams. Few losses are more crushing than the short-lived inspirational comeback. In fact, if I were a Seahawks fan I would rather there had been no comeback at all.
Nine times out of ten I prefer my teams get blown out rather than lose a close game. The reason is that a close loss always features one or two plays that could have (or perhaps should have) gone the other way. A prime example of this is the Packers losing to the Eagles in the playoffs after allowing a 27-yard gain on 4th and 26. Only when the Packers won the Super Bowl did I stop caring about that play. I would rather the Packers lost that game 45-3 than what cruelly unfolded.
Granted, close games have more entertainment value. However, I don't always watch sports for entertainment. More often I watch games because I want to see my team win.* There is a nice glow I receive when the Packers win a game and I'm not going to get the full glow unless I watch the entire game. Having the glow replaced with a feeling of despair thanks to one or two key plays is very hard to handle. That the plays lend themselves to obsessive rumination only makes matters worse. This is not to say that blowout losses are devoid of despair, but I prefer them because they are easy to forget.
*This perspective has been de-emphasized over the past few years. You miss a lot of amazing stuff if you are only watching to see your team win. That said, I didn't watch the entirety of the Packers' miserable loss to the Colts because I was having fun.
As mentioned earlier, I prefer blowouts to heart-breakers by a 9:1 ratio. I will concede that some games are so epic that I can appreciate what happened despite the outcome. A rare exception to my preference was Green Bay's 51-45 overtime loss to Arizona in the 2010 Wild Card round. The game was arguably the greatest postseason passing showcase OF ALL TIME. That the Packers were involved in something so ridiculous is kind of cool. Furthermore, the manner in which the Packers lost was not that bad, especially considering they did not hold a lead at any point in the game.
In conclusion, it's better to get blown out UNLESS the game itself is outrageously epic and the close plays that don't go your way are not that bad.
What sayeth you?
Less than 24 hours later the Seahawks were in a similar position to the Packers, only this time God made an appearance...that ultimately demonstrated His disdain for Seattle sports teams. Few losses are more crushing than the short-lived inspirational comeback. In fact, if I were a Seahawks fan I would rather there had been no comeback at all.
Nine times out of ten I prefer my teams get blown out rather than lose a close game. The reason is that a close loss always features one or two plays that could have (or perhaps should have) gone the other way. A prime example of this is the Packers losing to the Eagles in the playoffs after allowing a 27-yard gain on 4th and 26. Only when the Packers won the Super Bowl did I stop caring about that play. I would rather the Packers lost that game 45-3 than what cruelly unfolded.
Granted, close games have more entertainment value. However, I don't always watch sports for entertainment. More often I watch games because I want to see my team win.* There is a nice glow I receive when the Packers win a game and I'm not going to get the full glow unless I watch the entire game. Having the glow replaced with a feeling of despair thanks to one or two key plays is very hard to handle. That the plays lend themselves to obsessive rumination only makes matters worse. This is not to say that blowout losses are devoid of despair, but I prefer them because they are easy to forget.
*This perspective has been de-emphasized over the past few years. You miss a lot of amazing stuff if you are only watching to see your team win. That said, I didn't watch the entirety of the Packers' miserable loss to the Colts because I was having fun.
As mentioned earlier, I prefer blowouts to heart-breakers by a 9:1 ratio. I will concede that some games are so epic that I can appreciate what happened despite the outcome. A rare exception to my preference was Green Bay's 51-45 overtime loss to Arizona in the 2010 Wild Card round. The game was arguably the greatest postseason passing showcase OF ALL TIME. That the Packers were involved in something so ridiculous is kind of cool. Furthermore, the manner in which the Packers lost was not that bad, especially considering they did not hold a lead at any point in the game.
In conclusion, it's better to get blown out UNLESS the game itself is outrageously epic and the close plays that don't go your way are not that bad.
What sayeth you?
Greetings!
Hello, friends! I have created this blog as a means to stimulate discussion about various items, particularly sports.
As young professionals that have the world on a string it's hard to find time to discuss our exceptionally intelligent thoughts in person. Being something of a genius myself, it is no surprise I came up with the great idea of starting a forum for us to kick around ideas and make fun of one another.
Enjoy!
As young professionals that have the world on a string it's hard to find time to discuss our exceptionally intelligent thoughts in person. Being something of a genius myself, it is no surprise I came up with the great idea of starting a forum for us to kick around ideas and make fun of one another.
Enjoy!
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