I kind of feel bad about this
but I’m going to do it anyhow, because science is not about your feelings. Or my feelings. Or this guy’s feelings, either, I guess.
Jordan DiPietro is not a baseball writer, and The Motley Fool is not a baseball publication. I guess it’s about stocks or some shit. I don’t really know; it’s not about baseball, so I clearly don’t know anything about it. And he, in turn, clearly doesn’t know anything about baseball. Normally I’d leave this alone, since, as I say, he’s not really a baseball writer, but it’s much too hilarious and adorable.
Growing up, you probably had a favorite baseball player. Being a Philadelphia native, mine was Mike Schmidt. Considered probably the best third baseman of all time, Schmidty led the league in home runs for eight seasons, RBIs for another four, and sits at number 14 on the all-time home run list.
He was a true slugger, and I loved every bit of him.
This is a good start. Made me feel comfortable with the fact that this guy, who is presumably an investment journalist, was going to be slinging around some baseball words. But that was apparently just to get me off my guard, since the very next thing he says is:
Was Schmidt really that good?
Like every baseball fan, I spouted off stats like they meant something, but as Michael Lewis points out in Moneyball, stats are deceiving in several ways. They magnify essentially small differences, they conflate circumstances with skill, and they’re often looking at the wrong thing.
I actually (believe it or don’t) haven’t read Moneyball, though it’s on my to-read list. However, I am familiar with it, and one thing I’m fairly comfortable in saying is that Michael Lewis does not point out that stats are deceiving and don’t mean anything. Stats themselves do not "conflate circumstances with skill" or "look at the wrong thing." Stats always look at the right thing, and always tell you exactly what you asked for. The trick to using stats intelligently is to know what you want to see.
For example, we place absurd emphasis on home runs and RBIs.
No, Jordan, "we" do not. Home runs are pretty important, but aren’t the be-all end-all of hitting ability. I don’t give two dicks about RBIs, and I don’t personally know anybody who does (though, yes, I’m well aware that the law firm of Morgan, McCarver, and Kruk considers them very important).
While RBIs are considered an individual achievement
Only stupid people think that. Like the aforementioned Morgan, McCarver, and Kruk.
to knock runners in, runners have to be in scoring positions. The best swing in the world won’t earn RBI points if the bases are empty.
I appreciate the point you’re trying to make — that RBI is a team-dependent stat — but, really, Jordan, you should try making it without simultaneously being wrong. The best swing in the world — which, for these purposes, results in a home run — absolutely will score you an "RBI point" even if the bases are empty.
And while I’m on the subject, "RBI points?" What’s next? WHIP points?
And it turns out that, in the end, home runs and RBIs are poor predictors of overall success.
Well, not really. They’re pretty good predictors at the team level. The teams with the most RBIs in 2009 were the New York Yankees in the AL, and the Philadelphia Philadelphians in the NL. You might have heard about a series these two teams played against one another, yes? Those two teams also led MLB in home runs. This is because teams that have a lot of home runs and a lot of RBI have really good offenses, and, thus, are good teams.
On an individual level, yeah, RBI is pretty garbage. Home runs are still a useful predictor of playing ability, though. I’d take a dude with a 162-game average of 100 HR even if he, like, never walked at all.
The metrics that matter, however — on-base percentage and slugging percentage, especially in combination — aren’t very well known.
"In combination," Jordan, those two stats are called "on-base plus slugging." Do you see? And OBP, SLG, and OPS are obscure to the point where they’re on the backs of fucking baseball cards these days. They’re really pretty mainstream.
Johnny Bench? Reggie Jackson? They come to mind as some of the greatest players of all time, but what about Stan Musial? Or Mel Ott? Both of the latter players are significantly lesser known, yet the stats that matter are just as good or better.
Don’t you love this part? I love this part. Never mind the crazy idea that Stan Musial and Mel Ott — two players in the Hall of Fame — are unknowns. Never mind the crazy way Jordan overlooks that maybe, just maybe, he’s heard more about Johnny Bench and Reggie Jackson because they played in the 80s rather than in the 40s and 50s like Ott and Musial. Let’s just focus on the fact that he just referred to f(x)ing Stan Musial and Mel Ott as "lesser known" players.
Everybody’s familiar with the baseball-playing abilities of famous baseball player Jimmy Rollins, but I’ve discovered an amazing fact. You probably haven’t ever heard of him, but this obscure player called "George Herman Ruth" actually had better statistics! Astounding!
They’re on the all-time list for walks, and consequently, they have higher OBPs than both Johnny Bench and Reggie Jackson. Oh — and they have World Series rings as well.
Everybody’s on the all-time list for walks, Jordan. You might wish to mention where they rank on said list, which is: eighth (Ott) and thirteenth (Musial). Reggie Jackson is 29th, by the way, which isn’t too shabby. Also, hey, Johnny Bench won two World Series rings with with Cincinnati in 1975 and 1976 (the "Big Red Machine?" No?) and Reggie Jackson has four World Series rings (two with Oakland and two with New York). They called him "Mr. October," yeah? So fuck the heck are you talking about in re: rings?
That’s pretty much it. The rest of it’s boring stuff about stocks. Really the only remaining line that’s worth making fun of on a blog is this one:
Hank Aaron has it all — he’s on the all-time home run list, he’s on the all-time walk list, he has a World Series ring, and most importantly, he has an on-base percentage that rivals most.
Well, no, I would say the most important thing is the home runs. Think about this, people: Jordan DiPietro just mentioned Hank Aaron and downplayed his second-highest-of-all-time home run total of 755 in favour of his fairly pedestrian career OBP of .374.
Insider’s tip, Jordan: if you’re using baseball metaphors in a way that’s intended to downplay the importance of home runs, motherfucking Hank Aaron is not the best choice for your example.
