Ask Rotoman! November 19, 2012

Rotoman:

Would you take Justin Upton and Miguel Sano for Jason Heyward in a long-term keeper league?

“Odd Future Value”

Dear ODV:

Let’s compare what Upton and Heyward have done when they were the same age:

At 21, Heyward earned $20, while Upton earned $6.

At 22, Heyward earned $7, while upton earned $29.

At 23, Heyward earned $28, while Upton earned $20.

Though their paths were different the results of their performances before they turned 24 years old are roughly similar. In his 24th year Upton earned $35. We have yet to see what will happen to Heyward, but no one would be surprised if he had a big year this year.

So, you’re looking at two young players of comparable talents. Heyward appears to have a little more power, Upton a better chance to hit for average, but when discussing future value here I think it’s fair to say that Upton is a bit more established because he’s been around longer, but that has also served to show some of the flaws in his game. Because Heyward is two years younger I’d give him the edge in a head to head comparison. But there is, of course, another body involved.

Miguel Sano is a young power-hitting prospect for the Twins who spent all of 2012 in Low-A, hitting for power, drawing walks and striking out a ton. He’s considered one of the top hitting prospects in the game, but he has a long way to go before he reaches the major leagues. He isn’t helped by the fact that he’s a third baseman who doesn’t play his position all that well.

I don’t see a huge difference between Heyward and Upton over the next few years, but Heyward’s long-term prospects are better. Sano is considered a top prospect, but he’s likely three years away, and it is prudent to notice the flaws of youngsters playing in Low-A, not because they can’t overcome them, but because they often don’t.

If your league has so many long-term keepers that there is significant value in having guys like Sano to hold onto, trading Heyward for Upton and Sano makes sense. But I think I’d prefer to have Heyward’s career going forward over Upton’s.

Sincerely,
Rotoman

Where I Stand: Miggy v. Trout

First off, a link to Joe Posnanski making some strong points in favor of Mike Trout as AL MVP over Miguel Cabrera this year. My favorite is his suggestion that you vote for whoever Brandon McCarthy thinks should be MVP.

Since the season ended, I eventually came to the idea that Mike Trout was most deserving of the award. The preponderance of the evidence weighs in his favor, even if I don’t think it’s quite so clear a case as some. By that I mean that despite Trout trouncing Cabrera in WAR, the award isn’t solely given to the best hitter or the best player in the league. The MVP is supposed to go the player who was most valuable to his team.

This has led some people to suggest that Cabrera was most valuable to his team because he led it to the playoffs, while Trout was only able to lead his team to third place. These people should note that Trout’s team won more games than Cabrera’s and step away.

But I think a case can be made, sort of, that Cabrera was the more important player on his team. If you use as your measure WAR, and if we’re having this discussion why not, Cabrera contributed 6.9 WAR of Detroit’s hitters’ total of 13.7 WAR, or more than 50 percent. Trout, on the other hand, was worth 10.7 WAR, which was 28 percent of the Anaheim team’s 37.9 batting WAR.

But that’s the best case, and it isn’t that persuasive, since Detroit’s total WAR (they had great pitching, with Justin Verlander worth more WAR than Cabrera at 7.6) was 36.9, while the Angels’ total was 40.5. Trout’s contribution of 26 percent of his team’s total versus Cabrera’s 19 percent of his team’s total is a decisive edge.

Which leaves one final mode of attack: dWAR, defensive Wins Above Replacement, is far from established as a reliable measure of defensive value. Even those who champion it point out that it really takes two years of defensive play to start to establish a fielder’s performance baseline in fielding WAR. In 2012, Cabrera did a decent job playing third base, exceeding expectations but probably not adding to his own value with his defensive contributions (but not hurting it either–some argue that his agreement to play third also helped the Tigers because it meant they didn’t have to play Ryan Raburn), while Trout was simply amazing. Still, if you discount his defense because the measure isn’t reliable (and don’t believe your own eyes), Trout’s contribution in WAR drops to 8.6, or 21 percent of the Angels total, which at least makes it a horse race.

I’ve enjoyed the argument about this MVP race because in discussion new ideas come up. Nate Silver, championing Trout but expecting Cabrera to win, pointed out that Trout was superior to Cabrera while leading off an inning, a not inconsiderable skill that compares nicely with Cabrera’s better stats in the clutch this year.

The bottom line, however, is that the MVP awards are given by voters or judges, and they reflect the values of that constituency. If the BBWA says these 28 voters are the judges, we have to look at who they are to see what values are reflected. They’re the bosses. There was a time when the fans’ access to the records of the game was limited, and some favored Maris while others favored Mantle, for example. Some of that argument was based on numbers, of course, but it was also personality and some ineffable human streak that drew fans to one or the other. And the judges then were Olympian.

We’re now our own best judges, as the ballots of the BBWA so ably demonstrate every time they vote, and this discussion among fans with a much broader understanding of how the game works ideally serves the purpose of helping us better understand baseball, baseball players, baseball teams, winning baseball, and the stats and numbers and opinions that help us describe them. The awards themselves are wan, the judges are suspect, but the discussion is lively, which is just great.

Everybody Hates Chris Johnson.

I just came across this Chuck Klosterman story in Grantland about how fantasy football is changing people’s relations and expectations for players. He concludes the piece with a quote from Bob Dylan, that famous fantasy football player, that simply kills it and is well worth reading the whole thing to get to. (I’m not quoting it here, because that would be cheap.)

But while you’re reading consider that Chuck may not have the changes fantasy sports have wrought exactly right. He says, “What I’m proposing has more to do with how a few grains of personal investment prompt normal people to think about strangers in inaccurate, twisted, robotic ways. It’s about how something fun quietly makes us selfish, and it’s about the downside of turning real people into algebraic chess pieces.”

I don’t think there’s any doubt that a few grains of investment from fantasy players has twisted investors’ thinking in fantasy sports. That happens. If you write about or play fantasy sports you see it all the time, the mocking of a player’s illness (mono!) or his guts (rub some dirt on it!) or delight in his injury (thank god!). But where I think Klosterman misses is in thinking this is a symptom of fantasy sports only, as if a barroom (or stadium) full of Phillies fans might not ride an player for not performing up to snuff, too.

One of the dark secrets of our obsession with sports, all sports not excepting the fantasy version, is the way we as fans invest our time and passion in a player or team and the way that investment can privilege us to strip away the humanity of the players involved and turn them into our entertaining (and sometimes disappointing) pawns.

It can, at times, seem as if the act of putting on a uniform turns the player into some sort of superhero, who is expected to endure the savagery that is heaped upon him in exchange for the veneration and material rewards he receives. This is not a function of the fantasy game, which really takes the original local team relationship and extends it to the entire universe of players in the league. Rather than focusing on our disappointment with our local football team and its players, coaching and management, in fantasy we apply those same emotions to a broader universe of players drawn from across the country, plus we have to confront our own failures of coaching and management layered on top. That’s one horse-sized bitter pill at times to swallow.

Klosterman gets at this in his conclusion, but I think the difference he draws between real fandom and fantasy fandom is without distinction. The danger here is in the competitive gasses sports rooting fracks out of us. In both cases, that’s something we should not be proud of. Instead we might try to root better, though it doesn’t sound like Bob Dylan expects us to.

One time, Nate Silver was wrong!

About politics, anyway, in 2004: “Here, too, there is a useful political analogy. The Democrats in particular have been reluctant to throw their resources behind candidates with appealing skills but unproven track records, which in turn prevents these politicians from gaining the exposure they need (or are perceived to need) to run for higher office. It’s a self-perpetuating problem. So we’re going to get Hillary Clinton running for the White House in 2008. And we’re going to lose again, just as surely as if the Diamondbacks had tabbed Jimy Williams for their managerial vacancy.”

Read the whole story about recycled baseball managers and recycled politicians at Baseball Prospectus.

Nate Silver Really is a Data God.

The lede of this Daily Beast story gets it right: There were two big winners on election night. I don’t recall writing much about Barack Obama on this site in the past, but Nate Silver has made regular appearances over the years, first because of his PECOTA baseball projection system, and then because of his efforts to clarify political polling.

For all the discussion about Nate’s innovations in baseball projection and political polling, one rather significant point has been missed: Nate Silver is much more a marketing guy than a statistician.

In fact, you’ll find critics all over the web who point out that Silver isn’t a statistician at all. But they’re missing the point. What Silver did with PECOTA and fivethirtyeight.com (now fivethirtyeight.blogs.nytimes.com) was to present fairly mundane “projections” and “polls” in an invigorating and easily digested way.

With PECOTA, Silver created fairly traditional weighted-average player projections, similar to Tom Tango’s famous MARCEL projections (so simple to compute they’re named after the monkey on Friends). These are solid middle-of-the-road projections. But Silver went one step farther. He then compared each player to historically similar players and used those similar players’ historical outcomes to create a wide range of possible projections (plus percentage calls for a player to Breakout or Fail) for each current player. He then assigned confidence intervals for the various outcomes, which brilliantly turned the language of predicting on its ear.

Rather than say, “the predictive model failed to account for half the home runs Player X hit,” Nate could say, “Player X hit the 20th percentile of his home run projection, perhaps because pitchers discovered he was slow identifying sliders and saw a steady diet of those all season long.” Suddenly, the predictive model was a benchmark to help identify aberrant player performance, not a faulty prediction.

Sidenote: A great deal of baseball player performance is determined by luck, so all player projections are going to deviate widely from actual performance. Accounting for that deviation while propping up the projection itself was a brilliant stroke.

With 538, Silver did something that was so obvious that others were already doing it–averaging public opinion polls. He also managed to create not only a rather successful business, but also transformed the way people are looking at journalism these days.

No doubt part of his success with 538 was the hard work he put in finding good weights for each of the polls he sampled, but his real innovation was the creation of the Chance of Winning numbers. Chance of Winning is both an easily digested number that tells you something concrete over time, in the Chance of Winning graph, and in the moment, when it lets you know the current odds that a candidate will win on election day.

On election morning this year, Silver gave President Obama a 91 (actually 90.7) percent chance of winning. He says this number is derived by running simulations, which I think must be random resets of each state’s results inside the margin of error for all the state polls he collects (I haven’t seen this process explicitly described, though it may well have been). This is a clever way to create a horse-race number out of a lot of small-differences-in-the-states contests.

There is nothing statistically bold about either PECOTA or 538, but there is lots that is informationally clear and valuable about both. That’s right in line with Silver’s thinking about predicting future events, as he makes clear in his new book, The Signal and the Noise: Why So Many Predictions Fail-but Some Don’t.

Silver’s interest is in identifying and isolating the knowable empirical information in a system, be it baseball, political voting, Oscar voting, or real estate preference, and then creating a model that objectively weights discrete values so that changing conditions lead to useful predictive outcomes.  The most interesting thing about this is that Silver is completely upfront about the limitations. In many cases, as he details in the book, there is not enough signal to escape the noise’s gravity. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to make predictions, or figure out what useful information is known about a system, but that we should honestly detail the limits we’re dealing with. Transparency, up to a point, is king.

Which seems to me remarkably clearheaded and honest and kind of brave, because contingent thinking and analysis is often looked at as dull or unimportant. Shades of gray, except when there are 50 of them, can be soporific, but Silver (almost a shade of gray himself, namewise) is usually a clear and energetic enough writer and correspondent to make his book a pleasure, if you’re ready to hear that there are limits to predictive systems. If you’re not, you should think again, because Silver’s big point is about how much we don’t know.

Which means that most of the noise about his achievements is because he presents such a clean signal. That’s the marketer in him, an affable everyman who isn’t afraid to look like a nerd (maybe he can’t help it, maybe it’s part of his method), who has figured out ways to popularize his way of looking at the data. It doesn’t hurt that he’s careful to make sure that his numbers add up.

A Rule Is A Rule, Unless There’s No Replay

Uh oh. Here we go again. Not necessarily the game, but 1-0 is a lot different than 3-0. Using replays (or replay challenges) on plays like this Robinson Cano tag on Omar Infante in the second game of the ALCS between the Tigers and the Yankees seems like a no brainer. Why won’t MLB do it?

I keep thinking that there must be more complicated game situations that would be further complicated if an umpire’s ruling in the first part of a play were to be overturned. I bet there are some of those. But I bet we can deal with them. ML rules have pages and pages and pages of examples of situations and rules interpretations, meant to interpret the rules in a practical way. One of the reasons we love the game is because every day we see something we’ve never seen before.

The thing we should never see again is an obviously botched call stand when the replay is irrefutable. Let’s argue about how all those contingent events should be handled. That won’t be easy. But getting the calls right, when the video is clear, should be.

Fear the Duck!

Don Drooker goes by the name the Duck, not because he waddles or quacks but because he, um, well, I don’t know. I’ve played with Don in the XFL for ten years now (our 11th draft is coming up in three weeks) and he’s won four times. It turns out that Don waddles and quacks in other leagues, too. He played in three auction leagues this year and won all three. He writes with humor and grace and pride about one of those leagues here.

Reviewing Your Work: Mike’s A Moron Edition

My friends at Roto Think Tank put out a first-rate website full of servicey advice and strategic insight. RTT’s Mike Gianella has been a contributor to the Fantasy Baseball Guide for a number of years now, and today posted his comments about his Picks and Pans in the 2012 edition. How’d they work? Not so hot, which is why he gets to use the funny title. Though he’s way too hard on himself for Bonifacio and a couple others.

What I love about Picks and Pans is that it’s a blank slate. The experts are encouraged to pick and pan whoever they want, which usually means they meant it when they said it. So you get a somewhat objective view of a group of peoples’ subjective judgments about the upcoming season, before the season. And afterwards we get to see just how easy it is to be wrong.

Bravo to Mike for manning up.