Oh say can you C.C.
Posted: November 13th, 2007 | Filed under: Baseball | 33 Comments »
The following is a long, rambling thought about sports awards and (eventually) this year’s American League Cy Young vote. It was supposed to be all about the AL Cy Young vote, but this is the danger of the blog. Give a guy too much space, too much time, and too much editorial freedom and you end up with this mess.
I once had a discussion with Bill James. He had written an article about MVP voting, and he had used a poker game example to explain a point. I’m going to completely mess up his point, I’m sure, but here’s the way I understood the example:
Let’s say the Ace of Spades is the most valuable card in a poker game, the best card there is. Obviously in poker played without goofy wild cards, the Ace of Spades is no better than any other Ace, but let’s not dilute the point just because of my staunch anti-wildcard stance. In this example, the Ace of Spades is the best card. It trumps all other cards. If nobody has a pair, straight or flush, the Ace of Spades is decisive.
OK, so one player has the Ace of Spades. He has the best card in the deck. Unfortunately for him, he has nothing else. The cards are turned over and nothing good comes up — he ends up with only the ace of spades. You might think of this as A-Rod in Texas.
Meanwhile another player has a 7-8 of hearts. The cards are turned over, and the very last card — the River, for you Norman Chad fans out there — is another seven. So she actually wins the hand with a pair of sevens.
OK, you’re voting: What is the MVC — Most Valuable Card?
Bill says it’s the Ace of Spades. It is the best card and, thus, the most valuable card. It is not the Ace of Spades’ fault that his cardmates sucked. The Ace did all he could do to help his hand win. Quality reigns. The Ace of Spades is the MVC.
I say (because I like to be argumentative) that the MVC might be the 7 of hearts. That’s the card that won the hand (thanks to a late-season acquisition). Maybe the 7 of Hearts cannot match the power or statistics of the Ace of Spades. It is, on its own, not nearly as good a card. But on this particular day (or season) that 7 of Hearts was the decisive player in the hand. In my opinion, you can logically vote the 7 as MVC.
This example revolves around the basic question we ask every year around this time: Is there a difference between “most valuable player†and “best player?â€
Like most things, I see both sides. On the pro-Ace side — I tend to think the vast majority of value over quality arguments belong in the dump. You hear people all the time say, “Oh, well, this player may not have put up the same numbers as other guys but he is so much more valuable.†I believe, 99 out of 100, that’s baloney (as my Dad used to say). Baseball stats aren’t perfect. They don’t measure everything. But they are more perfect, I think, than baseball perception, and they measure a whole lot (more all the time). Whenever a manager or GM says, “That’s the kind of play that won’t show up in the box score,†I usually respond by saying, “You know, box scores are a whole lot bigger now than they used to be. It might be in there.â€
So, yeah, I do think — in the grand picture — that the most valuable player is the best player.
But here’s where I see the 7 of Hearts side too: As a voter, you’re not voting on the grand scheme. You’re voting on one season, only one season, and how it turned out. I don’t think it’s silly or wrong to vote for the player who, in your mind, most influenced the season, even if that person is not necessarily the best player.
You can think about it in terms of a single game. Say Albert Pujols goes 4-for-4 but, because of circumstances, does not drive in or score any runs or make anything but routine plays. He’s the best player on the field, no doubt about that. Meanwhile David Eckstein goes 1-for-5, but he hits a three-run homer in the ninth to win the game 3-2. Who is the MVP? I don’t think it’s unjustified to vote for Eckstein.
All of this brings me to my larger point (and I promise a discussion of C.C. as Cy Young winner is coming up … but it may be a few more paragraphs): I think sports awards are as much about sports points of view as they are about the players themselves.
Look: Voters are given pretty vague direction when it comes to MVP, Cy Young, Rookie of the Year. There are not too many regulations. You might recall a few years ago when a couple of writers left Pedro Martinez off their MVP ballots because, they said, pitchers should not win MVPs. There was some outrage and confusion — and I was one of the outraged and confused — because it DOES specifically say on the ballot that pitchers should be considered for the MVP award. And it was difficult, that year, to justify any MVP ballot that excluded Pedro.
Still, honestly, it’s just a sports point of view. The point of view is that pitchers, by virtue of playing only every fifth day, cannot be as valuable as an everyday player. It might be a stupid point of view, but hey, someone else might think it’s stupid to base your MVP vote on OPS+ or Win Shares or counting stats or personal observations or intensive game-by-game study or discussions with people in the game or whatever other method voters use to choose their winners.
The whole philosophy behind award voting is that you will get a fairly large number of voters — and diverse points of view — and while individually the methods and insights and biases and general knowledge will vary (and one voter might even pick Brian Bannister as rookie of the year), the group as a whole will make a good choice (you can see the fascinating book “The Wisdom of Crowds†for further details on this topic).
The key to this working is diversity of opinion. You don’t want a whole group of voters who essentially see things exactly the same way. That’s how you end up with the Heisman Trophy. No award drives me crazier than the Heisman Trophy.
HEISMAN TROPHY RANT: On the one hand, the Heisman should be a great award. You have the simple and necessarily vague instructions (choose the “most outstanding†player in college football). You have hundreds and hundreds of diverse voters from around the country. You have a cherished history. This should work.
But it doesn’t work. Why? Because you really don’t have diversity of opinion. The voters may be diverse, but the way they vote for Heisman is not. The overwhelming majority of voters will not:
1. Vote for a defensive player.
2. Vote for an offensive lineman.
3. Vote for a tight end.
4. Vote for a wide receiver (unless he is an amazing kick returner also).
5. Vote for a player off a losing or mediocre team.
6. Vote for a player from a school that is not in a major conference.
7. Vote for a player that NFL scouts view as the most talented — this is a college award.
OK, well, as you can see … that pretty much cuts off the great defensive players, great offensive linemen, great tight ends, great pass-catching receivers, great players from 4/5 of Division I schools and the players who, by virtue of their tools and skills, will be the stars in the NFL.
Great. So what does that leave you with? The Heisman winner, with almost no exceptions, will be:
(1) The soon-to-be Arena League quarterback from the nation’s best team.
(2) The quarterback or running back who made the signature play of the year (as seen on SportsCenter 384,382 times).
(3) Someone who (probably because of their coach’s system) put up jarringly impressive stats.
(4) The guy television and newspaper and Internet and radio hypes the most.
Yes, the Heisman voting is more or less prescripted. Almost everyone votes off the same list with the same thought process. This is why the Heisman Trophy winner, almost every year, flops in the bowl game and then flops in the NFL. There’s no curse involved. Eric Crouch, Chris Weinke, Jason White, Troy Smith, Danny Wuerffel, Charlie Ward, Gino Toretta, on and on — NFL scouts could have told you that none of these guys were good enough to play quarterback at the next level. And can you really be the most outstanding player in college football when you are not even close to good enough to play in the NFL?
They were system guys — they were 7 of hearts who happened to pair up at the end. Again, it’s perfectly reasonable to vote for them. But it’s a problem when EVERYBODY votes that way. It’s a problem when you don’t have that diversity of opinion — then you get a predictable and often laughable Heisman Trophy winner.
This word (laughable) finally brings us to C.C. Sabathia winning the Cy Young Award over Josh Beckett. You probably saw the lead paragraph in the AP story: “C.C. Sabathia beat Josh Beckett at last.†Yes, it’s a little jab at the voters. And it’s a fair jab because nobody — and I mean NOBODY — would have voted for Sabathia over Beckett had they been allowed to see the playoffs first.
Beckett (in playoffs): 4-0, 1.20 ERA.
Sabathia (in playoffs): 1-2, 8.80 ERA.
But, of course, we were not allowed to see the playoffs. We (and I had a vote this year) had to vote for the Cy Young as soon as the season ended. Personally, as mentioned here before, I think that’s ridiculous, and this is precisely why. You end up trying to guess who the murderer is when there are still 20 pages left in the book.
Anyway, it was a very close vote between Beckett and Sabathia, and based on the season you could see why. Beckett had his advantages (best road ERA in the league, toughest schedule among the Cy Young candidates, most victories), and Sabathia had his perhaps more impressive advantages (40 more innings pitched than Beckett with a lower ERA, amazing strikeout-to-walk ratio). They were both worthy candidates (as were John Lackey and Fausto Carmona). I voted for Beckett, but it was really close. In the end, Sabathia’s innings pitched and that K-to-walk carried the day with voters, I think, and that makes sense.
Were we (as a group) right? In a word: No. We were given a unique gift this season — we were given a chance in the postseason to see which pitcher was best. There is no question in my mind NOW that in 2007 Josh Beckett was better than C.C. Sabathia — no question that if you, as a manager, were given them both, you would start Beckett in Game 7. You might start him in Game 6 too.
So I think we missed. But that’s how it goes with awards. They often say more about us than they do about the people who win and lose.
Postscript: Was about to sign off when I saw this question from brilliant reader Creston about the Cy Young (you are all brilliant readers, my friends) …
As for you saying “NOBODY would have voted for Sabathia if they had been allowed to see the postseason.â€
Maybe. But then you’re saying that the post season’s three starts are more important than the 34 or so starts each of them made during the regular season. And if that’s the case, why not discard the regular season altogether?
Also, if I recall correctly, you’re one of the people who state that A-Rod’s struggles in the postseason are a small sample size and of no real lasting value, that his 600 at-bats during the regular season are far more important.
But somehow Beckett going 4-0 in the potseason as opposed to Sabathia’s 1-2 is more important than their regular season stats? Which is it Joe?
]
So let me clarify: I’m not saying or suggesting that three postseason starts are MORE important than the 34 in the regular season. I’m saying that I do not understand why we don’t count them at all. I’m saying it was a virtual toss-up between Sabathia and Beckett going into the postseason — it’s not like Beckett stunk during the season — but after the postseason there was absolutely no doubt which of them was better.
Sabathia in 2007 (total): 20-9, 3.44 ERA, 256.3 innings, 255 hits, 218 K, 44 walks.
Beckett in 2007 (total): 24-7, 3.00 ERA, 230.67 innings, 208 hits, 221 K, 42 walks.
You tell me, who had the better overall season? Do you see any reason at all in there to vote for Sabathia? And then you consider that the postseason is clearly more important than the regular season … this is not close. We did the best we could as voters considering our limitations, considering that we did not get to see the postseason first. But there ain’t no doubt that Beckett was better than Sabathia over the course of 2007.
I wasn’t going to get into this again (I’ve written about this already) but I do not get why we discount postseason numbers when trying to determine the leagues MVP and Cy Young — especially now that the playoffs are three rounds and take a whole month. I know the argument about how counting playoffs would tilt the awards toward players on the best teams, but you know what? The awards are already tilted that way. The GAME is tilted toward those players too. There aren’t too many MVPs or Cy Youngs on crappy teams. Every so often there’s a 1972 Steve Carlton — and those seasons would still be rewarded.
You will not convince me the awards would somehow be less meaningful or fair if the voters at least had access to watching the postseason.
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“Who is the MVP? I don’t think it’s unjustified to vote for Eckstein.”
In a single game, no. In fact, he’d be pretty much guaranteed to be the “Player of the Game.”
Over a whole season though? If that game repeated itself 162 times? I think it’d be pretty hard to vote a guy who bats .200 MVP – even if he has 486 RsBI – over a guy who batted 1.000.
As for you saying “NOBODY would have voted for Sabathia if we’d be allowed to see the post season.”
Maybe. But then you’re saying that the post season’s 3 starts are more important than the 34 or so starts each of them made during the regular season. And if that’s the case, why not discard the regular season altogetheris more important, or the other?
We could add it all up, and just base the awards off a total season, including the post season, but that’s not really fair, is it? Why should a guy who plays on a great team get an x amount of games more to prop up his stats (or bring them down) than a guy who plays on a crummy team that doesn’t play in October? And baseball as a whole doesn’t really even do this, since nobody’s stats in October count for their career totals.
That is one of the things that drive me nuts in College Football. You have two teams still undefeated after week 10. Only team 1 has just two more games to play, whereas team 2 has to play 3 more games, AND then has to play a championship game which for some reason counts for their normal season stats. Even though not every conference does this.
That championship game is always against (one of) the best team in their conference, and always a big chance for an upset. While the other team sits at home, safe in the knowledge that they “ran the slate” and went undefeated.
Seems really fair…
Okay, I’ve rambled enough.
Wow, I have no idea what happened there, it snipped half of my post. Here’s what that middle part about the awards should read :
Maybe. But then you’re saying that the post season’s 3 starts are more important than the 34 or so starts each of them made during the regular season. And if that’s the case, why not discard the regular season altogether, and just give awards based on post season play?
Also, if I recall correctly, you’re one of the people who state that A-Rod’s struggles in the post season are a small sample size, and of no real lasting value, that his 600 at bats during the regular season are far more important.
But somehow Beckett going 4-0 in the post season as opposed to Sabathia’s 1-2, is more important than their regular season stats? Which is it, Joe? Either one is more important, or the other?
Great entry. I think there is a distinct difference between the Heisman trophy and the MVP — but in my opinion, they are voted on in exactly the opposite way they should be.
The Heisman Trophy should go to College Football’s best player. However, as you noted, it’s almost assured that the award will go to the most notable player on the best team — usually the QB. I have no problem with a player with no NFL potential winning the Heisman because the college game is more accepting of a different skill set than the pro game. Eric Crouch was probably deserving of the Heisman the year he won it (and I’m no Nebraska fan) but the NFL has no use for an option QB. However, I think that many more WRs, RBs and particularly LBs and DEs should be in consideration…but they never are.
The MVP should go to the second 7. A-Rod was undoubtedly the best player in baseball when he was with the Rangers — but you couldn’t give him the MVP because the Rangers would have easily been one of the worst teams in baseball with our without him. Meanwhile, with the Yankees, he may deserve it this year because the Yankees likely wouldn’t have made the playoffs without his efforts…thus, his overall VALUE increased. This is the reason why Albert Pujols deserved the NL MVP last year but not this year…in spite of still being the best player in the NL. If they want it to go to the league’s BEST player, they should call it that. But most valuable, should have different criteria. The crazy thing is that baseball usually votes for the best player as the most valuable, and college football votes for the most valuable as the best. Strange.
While I agree that voting taking place before the postseason is rather silly, don’t you think that if voting took place afterward, the voters would put even more emphasis on the postseason than they already do? By most accounts (that I’ve read anyway) David Wright should be the MVP in the NL, but he’s not going to win because of the Mets’ collapse (even though he was the only one hitting during that time). More than likely the award is going to go to Jimmy Rollins (or hopefully Matt Holliday), simply because their teams made the playoffs. If you push the voting back to take place after the postseason is over, it is those games that are going to be the most fresh in the minds of the voters and I think it will sway their votes more towards those players involved.
I certainly think Troy Tulowitzki would have gotten more votes for ROY after the postseason, given the hype he received.
If the voting took place after the postseason, I think it would only serve to give us more 7s and fewer Aces.
I remember Andre Dawson winning the 1987 NL MVP despite playing for a horrible Cubs team. Jack Clark and Ozzie Smith had huge years for the first place Cardinals, but split votes and came in 2nd and 3rd. I think there is a difference between most valuable player and best player.
In terms of voting once the season ends, that seems fine. We already have post season MVPs to honor the outstanding players outside of the regular season’s MVPs.
I predict that Holliday will win the NL MVP since Tulo missed out on the ROY. There had to have been a few voters that didn’t want to see two Rockies win these awards in the same season because of the perceived influence of Coors Field. A handful of votes will go to Holliday that didn’t go to Tulowitzki and that will make the difference.
There can only be one MVP. How do you decide which 7 to vote for? Is it the second 7 that clinched the win, or the first seven that was there plugging away all along just waiting for some help? There are lots of things that contribute to a win in a game, series or season. How can you isolate a single event or player as more valuable than another when any one could have changed the outcome if different? Why is Eckstein more valuable for hitting a 9th inning homerun than Adam Wainwright who perhaps pitched a complete game, giving up only 2 runs?
What’s interesting (maybe even ironic) is the possibility that the extra innings Sabathia threw in the regular season, which probably tilted the scales in his favor for the Cy Young voting, are also the reason why he looked so gassed in the playoffs.
Oddibe, Holliday will probably be the MVP, but it’s not because voters didn’t want to see two Rockies win an award in the same year.
The writer who votes for ROY does not vote for Manager of the Year, MVP or Cy Young and that’s the same for all awards. I think that it’s to prevent scenarios that you suggest from happening.
Plus, I’m not so sure why a writer would have it in for a Rockie (or Diamondback or Yankee or Royal). If that writer thinks that a player should be an MVP, why would that change their thinking about their teammate winning the ROY?
Joe – What’s your view on the instances where the BBWAA gives an award to someone who was neither the best nor the most valuable? Take the Andre Dawson example above. The Cubs that year finished dead last, so clearly it’s ridiculous to say that Dawson was “valuable” in any way. With him they finished last; without him, they still finish last. Where’s his value?
That only leaves him being the best player to explain why he won the MVP that year. But guess what? He wasn’t the best player either. I don’t have Win Shares handy (and I’m not sure I’d cite it if I did), so here’s some WARP3 scores from the National League in 1987:
Tony Gwynn – 12.2
Dale Murphy – 11.9
Eric Davis – 11.6
Ozzie Smith – 11.3
Mike Schmidt – 11.0
Tim Raines – 10.3
Darryl Strawberry – 9.5
Pedro Guerrero – 8.1
Will Clark – 7.6
Jack Clark – 7.5
…Andre Dawson – 7.3
Dawson wasn’t even the MVC, Most Valuable Cub:
Rick Sutcliffe – 8.1 WARP3
Lee Smith – 7.4
Where’s the collective, groupthink, positive outcome in this particular boneheaded decision? If this was an isolated incident, no big deal. But it’s not. (See: 2006 AL MVP, 2005 AL Cy Young, 2002 AL Cy Young, 1997 NL MVP, 1987 AL MVP, etc., etc.) At what point is it fair to say that the BBWAA has butchered enough of these awards to be relieve of their voting responsibilities?
Creston says, “Over a whole season though? If that game repeated itself 162 times? I think it’d be pretty hard to vote a guy who bats .200 MVP – even if he has 486 RsBI – over a guy who batted 1.000.”
I dunno, f he sliugged .800 and had 162 homers, it might be an interesting race…
Joe, regarding your overall point; I think context matters, and you left out the third major voting philosophy. A player worth 20 wins over replacement is going to get my non-existent vote — unless, of course, he plays for a team that goes 106-56 and wins its division by 22 games, while this other guy over here who’s only worth 12 wins over replacement leads his team to a 91-71 season and a 3-game win in another division. In this case, even without their “best” player Team A is going to manage a season that certain World Series-winning teams have accomplished lately. Team B, on the other hand, doesn’t even finish over .500 without their star, which of course leads to the “who was more valuable to their team?” argument.
Which, of course, always seems to lead me back to Andre Dawson…
(And I think it’s awesome that Paul brought Dawson up while I was composing that.)
I’ve always been a pretty strict “most valuable individual player” guy (i.e., a member of the Bill James wing) vs. the “most valuable team player” guy (the Joe Posnanski wing), mostly b/c I feel that a player’s value — his contributions to wins — isn’t altered much by the players around him. In the single-game example you gave, Joe, I feel that Pujols gave his team more opportunities to win than Eckstein did. And while, yes, it seems like Eckstein’s hit was THE game-winner, it was actually dependent on the two other guys who got on base ahead of him, and so we can’t really credit him and him alone with the three-run homer. (The homer part, yes; not the three-run part.)
What’s more, I’ve always thought that we already have awards for teams — flags, league trophies, World Series trophies, that sorta thing. You say at the end of your post that players from the best teams will be disproportionately rewarded, but that’s okay, you imply, b/c “the awards are already tilted that way.” But the relevant question is: SHOULD they be tilted that way? I say no. Let’s honor players from up and down the standings, as long as they deserve it.
That said, your piece gave me plenty of food for thought and leavened my position on this matter, which is really what’s great about these awards. They give us things to argue about, new ways of seeing things, more cud to chew on. So thanks.
Paul White wrote:
“The Cubs that year finished dead last, so clearly it’s ridiculous to say that Dawson was ‘valuable’ in any way. With him they finished last; without him, they still finish last. Where’s his value?”
I actually think it’s clearly ridiculous to say that Dawson had no value that year. Okay, leave aside that he’s a poor example, for the reasons Paul stated — he wasn’t that valuable individually. But suppose he was. Suppose he was the best player in the league, but the Cubs still finished last. So what’s his value?
I’d say he’s damn valuable. Value to the Cubs, valuable to Cubs fans. Do the wins he contributed to no longer count b/c the team finished in last? Suppose every team in the league that year finished .500 — except the Cards finished in first, a game over .500, and the Cubs finished in last, a game under, 2 games out. (Ridiculous, I know; it’s a thought experiment.) Does that mean b/c the Cubs finished in last that there’s no difference between 80 wins and zero wins? That means, using Paul’s argument, Andre Dawson is as valuable as every member of the Cubs team, even Luis Quinones — i.e., nothing. Hell, it would mean that I’M as valuable as Andre Dawson, b/c had I been playing rightfield, the Cubs also would’ve finished last. It would also mean that no single member of the ‘98 Yankees is worth anything b/c, without him, they still would’ve won the division and the World Series.
You can see how ridiculous Paul’s argument gets when you carry it out to its logical endpoint.
Hey, Joe — Any comment on the tendency to weight RBI heavily in MVP voting?
FWIW, I don’t like the poker analogy very much at all. There are too many differences. Following that logic all the way down, the ace of spades can get beat by a pair of 2’s as well. And given the chance that the 2nd two that comes out (on the river) is the lowest card in the deck (& even if not the lowest, is definitely one of the 4 lowest), I would think you have to make the same argument for that card. Which, to my way of thinking, is like voting for – who? Nick Punto? Juan Uribe?
Anyway, I think there are too many differences in the games (poker/baseball) for that to be a useful comparison. Just my 2 cents worth…
Gee, Brian Gunn, that might just be the most obtuse comment I’ve read this year. Kudos.
I would agree that the argument you say is ridiculous is, in fact, ridiculous, if it was actually, you know, my argument. But since it wasn’t my argument, let me elaborate since you didn’t catch my actual argument the first time.
I don’t care if the BBWAA chooses to give an award to a guy who’s the best player, whether he’s on a lousy team or not. If they had given the award to the best overall player, Gwynn or Murphy or Davis for example, even if they played for a terrible team, that would have been fine by me. Conversely, if they had given the MVP in 1987 to Jack Clark on the theory that the Cardinals won a close race with the grand total of one strong offensive player in the lineup, and since Clark was that player he should therefore be the MVP, that would have been fine with me too, even though there were other players who were clearly better than Clark that season.
But the BBWAA didn’t do either of those things. They gave it to a guy who cleary wasn’t the best player in the league AND also clearly wasn’t really the most valuable player either, even in the context of his crappy team. In other words, the BBWAA abjectly f’d up that award, an all too common occurrence. Hell, that same year they had one of the more slam-dunk decisions they’ll ever get – the league’s best player (Alan Trammell) on the league’s best team (the Tigers) and they STILL f’d up that award, too.
See, my argument had very little to do with Andre Dawson, Brian, and far more to do with the general incompetence of the BBWAA as a voting body.
Get it now?
The Cy Young and the MVP are awards for the regular season, always have been.
The postseason has it’s own awards: LCS and WS MVPs. Plus, you know, pennants and championships (and Hall of Fame inductions, sometimes, Catfish Hunter, Phil Rizzuto).
I have to say, this column really ticked me off. The Indians have been getting screwed out of awards regularly for the last 15 years: Listasch over Lofton, Hamelin over Ramirez for RoY, Vaughn over Belle for MVP, various combinations of Ramirez and Alomar losing MVPs through the late ’90s. Then, as soon as an Indian finally wins an award, Joe wants to change the rules so he wouldn’t have, and he’s a Clevelander!
It doesn’t, though, tick me off as much as Bill Simmons sudden deep conviction that the NBA playoff system MUST BE CHANGED NOW, once Cleveland finally makes the finals. I’m on the verge of not reading him any more.
Don’t worry, Joe, you’re safe, but I still strongly disagree with your column.
Paul, you wrote, “With [Dawson] they finished last; without him, they still finish last. Where’s his value?” I took that at face value, as an argument you were making. Perhaps I read it wrong. Perhaps you were just setting forth a hypothesis in order to shoot it down. If so, I apologize; but honestly, there’s no indication in anything you wrote that would indicate that. In fact, your line — “clearly it’s ridiculous to see [Dawson] as valuable in any way” — seems pretty straightforward to me. Did you not mean that? Are you recanting it? Those aren’t rhetorical questions; I honestly can’t tell.
As for whether or not my post was obtuse, I admitted my examples were ridiculous. I was simply trying to show the logical absurdities inherent in the argument that players from non-winning teams are valueless — an argument which is not only very common (you hear it every year around this time); it is one which, apparently, you yourself made.
(And for the record, yes, I know, the bulk of your post was a dissection of Dawson’s credentials for the MVP award that year, as well as the incompetence of the BBWAA. I acknowledged as much in my original post.)
Gosh Brian, had I known that you would – not just once, but twice – largely ignore the main thrust of my comment and focus instead on the specific wording I used to describe a comparatively minor point about Andre Dawson’s value that year, I would have taken greater pains to be more specific. Please pardon my presumption that my comment would be read in the context of the BBWAA’s traditional views on “value” in relation to good baseball teams. I should have instead stated that Dawson’s lack of value was not absolute, it was just far, far, far, far, far less than anyone who has any right to an MVP award, considering that he wasn’t even the best player on his own, terrible baseball team. How foolish of me not to be more precise in a forum as historically scholarly and well researched as blog commentary.
So Bucky Dent is the AL MVP for 1978? Bobby Thompson NL MVP in 1951? That’s where the 7 of hearts takes you, Joe…
I know you’re being sarcastic, Paul, but I honestly have no idea what you’re trying to say.
Of course I ignored the main thrust of your initial post — not only do I have no problem with it, I thoroughly agree with it. Your main point, about Dawson’s specific value in 1987, did not need to be seconded by me; it spoke for itself just fine.
I did, however, quarrel with one of the more minor points you made up top. I felt it was worth elaborating upon b/c it expressed a common belief regarding award voting. Whether or not you actually hold this belief is beyond me. I’d ask you to clarify, but I’ve done that already (to no avail), and besides, I suspect we’re boring Joe’s readers. In other words, I give up.
I thought I had clarified:
“I don’t care if the BBWAA chooses to give an award to a guy who’s the best player, whether he’s on a lousy team or not. If they had given the award to the best overall player, Gwynn or Murphy or Davis for example, even if they played for a terrible team, that would have been fine by me. Conversely, if they had given the MVP in 1987 to Jack Clark on the theory that the Cardinals won a close race with the grand total of one strong offensive player in the lineup, and since Clark was that player he should therefore be the MVP, that would have been fine with me too, even though there were other players who were clearly better than Clark that season.”
And then:
“Dawson’s lack of value was not absolute, it was just far, far, far, far, far less than anyone who has any right to an MVP award, considering that he wasn’t even the best player on his own, terrible baseball team.”
I really don’t know how I can say that more clearly, Brian. Sorry if you can’t read that and come to an understanding of my thoughts on this issue.
>>>[i]You might recall a few years ago when a couple of writers left Pedro Martinez off their MVP ballots because, they said, pitchers should not win MVPs. There was some outrage and confusion — and I was one of the outraged and confused — because it DOES specifically say on the ballot that pitchers should be considered for the MVP award. And it was difficult, that year, to justify any MVP ballot that excluded Pedro. …Still, honestly, it’s just a sports point of view.[/i]
(sorry, the post got cut in two… anyway…)
For LaVelle Neal, maybe.
For George King, who’d just included Rick Helling AND David Wells on his MVP ballot in 1998– THE PREVIOUS YEAR– not so much.
King was the only one of the 28 voters to include Helling on his ballot. The following year, he was one of just two voters not to include Pedro Martinez.
Far from representing The Wisdom of Crowds, the ‘99 vote was the triumph of The Idiocy of the Lone Gunman.
Joe,
Great post. But I’m confused on one point. If during the season Sabathia was the best pitcher (as many people think), but then you add in the post-season (where Beckett ended up with better overall numbers), doesn’t that mean writers are just basing thier vote on the post-season, and the entire season.
There’s always a complaint about the post-season (especially with the wild card) that the best team doesn’t always win. Its the team that gets hot and plays the best. Isn’t this the same thing?
Before the post-season, Sabathia was the best, but after the post-season, Beckett was better. So voting for Beckett was based soley on his post-season performance.
No one was happier than I was in ‘85 when the Royals finally won the Series, but to call them the best team was insane. Before the post-season, they were chumps who were lucky to make it, after the post-season they were World Champions.
Now, I know someone will say that you can’t compare the Cy Young to a team season, but I think the example fits.
Remember, this are seasonal awards (as you stated so well) and not post-season awards.
Just for the record, I think Beckett was the Cy Young. But that’s just me.
I think a good way to describe how the voting usually unfolds (for baseball) is that the voters go with what they consider the most impressive stat or aspect of a player, be that Dawson’s power numbers in ‘87 over Ozzie’s glove, or George Bell’s power numbers over Alan Trammel’s more across the board performance, or Gibson’s grit over Strawberry’s power in ‘88, or Colon’s league leading wins over Rivera’s third best save total. The problem is that the voters seem to at times be impressed by things that are bright and shiny instead of substantive. It’s a good idea to have the writers vote as they have to watch a lot of baseball, but you only have to read the New York Post to realize that they might not be the most astute observers. Of course, the managers vote for the gold gloves, and you’d think they would be paying the most attention, and those are some of the craziest results of all, so who knows? It’s fun to argue though.
I think it’s good that they vote before the play-offs, because undue value is given to performances during the post-season. Just look at Lew Burdette: ‘57 Series, 0.67 ERA, 27 IP, 3 Wins. One of the best post-seasons ever. ‘58 Series: 1 Win, 2 Losses, 5.64 ERA. Not as good. And Warren Spahn was still the ace of that staff. And I think the writers got it right this time, being more impressed by Sabbathia’s inning’s over Beckett’s wins, which I think in this case are a better indicator of the better season, for it’s the season we vote on, not the pitcher (unless it’s Roger Clemens).
It’s just tricky when you get into high levels of analysis, just look at saber-metrics, or the Eckstein/Pujols analogy. Pujols has the superior overall performance, but his teammates are out of sync with him, and Eckstein is provided with the opportunity to make the difference, which he does. Now, Eckstein came through, which is a fact (in the land of imagination). The likelihood that Pujols would have is an academic consideration, which is useful in evaluating who is the better player, but relate to the real world (and if you were to project that over 162 games, and Pujols would bat 1.00 without driving in or scoring a run, we could really argue over the merits of “clutchness”). I think that sifting through the stats and taking them with a grain of salt is good, as in the ‘06 Cy Young, Colon really didn’t pitch as well as some other starters, but he did get the wins (which is his job), while Rivera was astounding, but didn’t even lead the league in saves, which is out of his hands. But you can get far to carried away with “interpreting” the numbers, and trying to isolate a single players true contributions, and then you have to devalue RBI’s because it’s not his fault if no-one is on base, and you have to devalue runs, because it’s not his fault if no-one drives him in, and you have to devalue wins because he had a lousy bullpen……and it can just go on and on until because you can’t realistically take teammates out of the equation. Even if baseball isn’t a team sport like football (and I would like to try and argue that it is, it’s just the defense holds the ball, not the offense, I’m not saying I could win the argument, but I like arguing these kind of things) it is still a team sport, and I think many of the attempts at isolating players are silly, because you don’t play the game by yourself, you are always at the mercy of your teammates, and to pretend otherwise is to look at baseball in the abstract, and I prefer to look at it on the field.
Homer said:
“Before the post-season, Sabathia was the best, but after the post-season, Beckett was better. So voting for Beckett was based soley on his post-season performance.”
I don’t think you can say voting would be based solely on his post-season performance. You can say they were based partly on post-season performance. While the four post-season starts by each player might have altered the outcome of the vote, it could have just as easily been four regular season starts responsible for the statistical difference. Would you have then said the vote was based solely on those 4 (well,
starts?
I think it’s reasonable for a baseball writer who has to vote on these things to be afforded the opportunity to consider the additional starts made in the post-season to come to a conclusion — if only so they can avoid (in their own eyes) embarrassment.
Not that I think the writers have anything to be embarrassed about on this particular vote. But you can understand how an earnest individual who sincerely wants the award to go to the right player might feel about a situation like this.
That’s a pretty funny AP headline, at least.
I think Morgan made a number of interesting points about trying to isolate players from their teams, which is ultimately impossible (not as impossible as basketball or football, but on some level even baseball players can’t be abstracted or decontextualized). The truth is that all baseball players perform as both individuals and as teammates, and it seems perfectly valid, philosophically, for voters to weigh those roles differently. (Which is exactly what occurs when the BBWAA votes for these awards, which probably means the system is just fine, mistakes notwithstanding.)
As for Joe’s opening analogy — what’s more valuable, a lone ace or a one-half of a pair of 7’s? — I agree with Bill James. Joe thinks the 7 is more valuable b/c it constitutes the winning hand, but that’s not true. It’s only PART of the winning hand. Think of it this way — what’s more valuable: a .350 hitter (the ace of spades) or a .320 hitter (the 7 of clubs)? Obviously it’s the .350 hitter. Now, asks Mr. Posnanski, what’s more important: a .350 hitter whose teammate hits .250 (an ace and a three) or two .320 hitters (two 7’s)? Obviously the more valuable property is the PAIR of .320 hitters (just like it’s more valuable to have two 7’s than an ace and a three). But the most valuable individual player is, just as obviously, the .350 hitter. I don’t see how Joe could possibly say otherwise.
Far from being obvious that the .350 hitter is more valuable, I think it’s impossible to look at batting averages and discern overall player value. Joe (and I and any number of other people) can “possibly say otherwise” because this could be the American League of 1950. That year, the .350 hitter was Billy Goodman, who hit for average but had no power, missed 40 games, and didn’t really have a defensive position. Despite this, he was #2 in the MVP voting over Yogi Berra, a durable .320 hitter with power who played a pretty solid catcher for the ultimate champs. Berra – 32 Win Shares, third in the voting; Goodman – 16 Win Shares, second in the voting. THAT’S how Joe can say otherwise. People often over-value a player based on just one characteristic or stat.
You may have been trying to make a broader point about individual value, but in that case you used a terrbile analogy, because batting average is just about the most misleading individual statistic you could have selected.
Oh yes, I agree. I don’t think batting average is the most important statistic, or anywhere close. I was just trying to illustrate a point. Feel free to substitute EqA or VORP or WARP3 or Win Shares or whatever (although personally I think WARP is very flawed b/c I don’t trust Clay Davenport’s FRAA numbers).
The overall point I was trying to make, if somewhat clumsily, was that in Joe’s analogy a 7 is NOT the most important card. It is the PAIR of 7’s that constitutes the winning hand, in which case you are no longer talking about individual cards but teams of cards. Therefore it is not the best analogy to use when talking about individual awards in baseball.
To be fair, shouldn’t you have Beckett pitch against the Red Sox? Sabathia had to and he didn’t do very well. Not many pitchers did all that well against the Red Sox. Beckett never had to pitch against them all season. They used to argue who was the better hitter, Ted Williams or Joe Dimaggio. Williams had to hit against the Yankee pitchers 22 games each season. Dimaggio NEVER did–he got to bat against the Red Sox staff instead.
I think that’s a fair point, Mike, but actually Sabathia faced even easier competition than Beckett this year, despite the fact that he had to face the Red Sox (even if it was only one time back in July).
As Rob Neyer wrote:
“Last season, 19 American League pitchers finished with at least 200 innings. Beckett was 10th [in terms of quality of batters faced], right in the middle, facing a composite .757 OPS over the course of the season. Meanwhile, Sabathia had the easiest time in the group, as he faced a composite .738 OPS…”
Obviously that should be the ONLY thing we look at when comparing the two pitchers, but I don’t think it’s fair to say that Beckett had an easier schedule than Sabathia.
[...] last season, while talking about the Beckett vs Sabathia Cy Young debate, Joe Posnanski wondered why we don’t count post-season numbers when considering candidates. I happen to agree with [...]