Chevrolet and Major League Baseball have released a ballot for the greatest Latino players ever, and Ted Williams is not on it. Some people are outraged at the omission.
In my opinion, this highlights the problem with classifying people by race or origin. It isn't that simple. And it doesn't matter.
Williams had a Mexican mother and grew up in San Diego. Is he a "latino" player? That depends on how you define latino. If you define it by blood, then yes. If you define it by country of origin, or prejudices suffered, then probably not. The GM press release says they want to honor players of "latino heritage." Does "heritage" mean bloodline, or experiential heritage associated with a particular classification? To me, a list of people that only identifies players with "latin" blood is ridiculous. Who cares? What do bloodlines have to do with quality? Why even bother to classify people by race or bloodline? I thought we were trying to get past all that. What's next, the "All-Irish" team starring Dale Murphy?
Maybe MLB/Chevrolet should have called the list "Players Born in Latin American Countries" or "Players Who Were Not U.S. Citizens" or "Players Who Were Treated as Hispanic Minorities in the United States." Clearly it makes more sense to honor those who have overcome prejudices and similar hurdles, as opposed to those who have "latin" blood in their veins. I don't see the point of compiling a list of every major league player who might qualify as "latino" by blood if they didn't have the same experiences as the latinos who were foreign-born, or non-English speaking, or otherwise identified as a different group.
Although I realize I'm treading on sensitive ground, I'm trying to figure out why it matters whether Williams is included on this list. Do latinos consider Ted Williams to be a source of pride? If so, why, unless he had similar experiences in terms of barriers and prejudices? If what he most has in common with them is a latin american parent, then using Williams as a source of pride is just a statement that bloodlines have something to do with quality. "Look, our guy with some Mexican blood is better than your guy with some Scottish blood."
Was Williams vocal about being hispanic? Did he consider it a source of pride when he played? Was he a great ambassodor for latinos? Maybe he feared prejudice when he was breaking in, but after a couple of years, Williams was the "greatest hitter that ever lived". A player of that caliber had the opportunity to cause people to look past heritage and look at merit. Yet it seems we know about Williams' hispanic lineage primarily because researchers dug up the information after Williams' playing days were over. If I were hispanic, I'd be much more proud of Felipe Alou.
Of course, the reality is that Chevy doesn't care about any of this. This is a PR stunt. They (and MLB) want to ensure they are reaching the broadest possible audience and are "inclusive," particularly in light of the recent controversy involving the San Francisco radio show host's comments about hispanics. They stepped into this morass, and they'll have to deal with those who feel Williams was slighted, but Chevy and MLB should have just left it alone.
And on the other side, if you are upset about Ted Williams being excluded, let it go. I see no point in delivering up another racial or ethnic controversy just for the sake of doing it.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Felipe Alou and Racism
Last night on Outside the Lines Felipe Alou referred to Krueger as "Satan". When Bob Ley asked Alou if Krueger should be fired, Alou said "No, I don't want anyone to lose his job."
Not even Satan?
I understand why Alou and the hispanic players are upset, but Alou has said he is "shocked" that the attitude expressed by Krueger is still alive. Is he really? Does he live under a rock? Is there anyone else here who believes that racism is dead and buried, even in team sports?
Generally, blurting out a comment like this indicates an underlying attitude. It does not mean Krueger walks around overtly hating other races, but it indicates that somewhere inside he sees Latin players as not having the same "baseball intelligence" as other races. His internal conflict slipped out to see the light of day.
Nearly every white person can think of an instance where he or she has had a racist thought, even if not intentional. Some of it is conditioning, because it takes a long, long time to get racism out of the system. Until all parents are free from racism (which is not even remotely close to being true), kids will pick up on those attitudes, whether explicitly taught them or not. In each generation, more and more kids (hopefully) will reject the outdated attitudes of their parents, but inevitably, many will carry them along. It's similar to attitudes we inherit from our parents about religion, politics, the environment, etc., except that racism is clearly an incorrect attitude to hold.
Some will carry the inherited attitudes along accidentally, absentmindedly reaching for the car door lock when a black person crosses the street in front of their car, for example. Then thinking, why the hell did I just do that?
Fortunately, many are wise enough not to blurt out something stupid on the radio...but then, most don't have a radio show.
Not even Satan?
I understand why Alou and the hispanic players are upset, but Alou has said he is "shocked" that the attitude expressed by Krueger is still alive. Is he really? Does he live under a rock? Is there anyone else here who believes that racism is dead and buried, even in team sports?
Generally, blurting out a comment like this indicates an underlying attitude. It does not mean Krueger walks around overtly hating other races, but it indicates that somewhere inside he sees Latin players as not having the same "baseball intelligence" as other races. His internal conflict slipped out to see the light of day.
Nearly every white person can think of an instance where he or she has had a racist thought, even if not intentional. Some of it is conditioning, because it takes a long, long time to get racism out of the system. Until all parents are free from racism (which is not even remotely close to being true), kids will pick up on those attitudes, whether explicitly taught them or not. In each generation, more and more kids (hopefully) will reject the outdated attitudes of their parents, but inevitably, many will carry them along. It's similar to attitudes we inherit from our parents about religion, politics, the environment, etc., except that racism is clearly an incorrect attitude to hold.
Some will carry the inherited attitudes along accidentally, absentmindedly reaching for the car door lock when a black person crosses the street in front of their car, for example. Then thinking, why the hell did I just do that?
Fortunately, many are wise enough not to blurt out something stupid on the radio...but then, most don't have a radio show.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
395 feet vs. 380 ft.
After Guillen and Castilla's complaints about the outfield distances in RFK Stadium, I started thinking about how much an effect 15 feet might have. Someone mentioned a memory that the Astrodome moved its fences a couple of times and it drastically affected the hitters.
I looked at the Astrodome's dimensions over the years, using the data at Ballparks.com. In 1965, the first year of the Astrodome, the fences were, left to right 340-375-406-375-340. For some reason, they lengthened the power alleys by 15 feet, so the dimensions from 1966-1971 were 340-390-406-390.
From 1972-1976 they shortened all the dimensions to 330-378-400-378-330. Then from 1977-1984 they went back to the same dimensions as 1966-1971. Then in 1985 they shortened again to the dimensions from 1972-1976, where they stayed until 1992 when they were reduced a little to 325-375-400-375-325.
In sum, from 1966-1971 and from 1977-1984, the dimensions were longer: 340-390-406-390-340. From 1972-1976 and from 1985-1992, the dimensions were shorter: 330-378-400-378-330 (with a slight reduction in 1992).
Ignoring the first year of the park (1965) and the first year of the new dimensions (1966), the above data provides 13 years of play with the dimensions twelve feet longer in the power alleys (the "Long Years") and 13 years of play with shorter power alleys (the "Short Years"). The 378/390 switch isn't a perfect match for the 380/395 distinction that Castilla and Guillen were complaining about, but it's probably close enough. One of the reasons the Astrodome is a a great example -- apart from the similar power alley dimensions -- is that weather is a non-factor.
Here is how the Houston team hit at home and on the road during the seasons with longer and shorter power alleys. First let's look at how they did on the road during those years (season averages):
Road
The road numbers are remarkably similar for all the years from 1967-1992, so we need not be too concerned about whether the quality or style of the various Houston teams in those 26 years are skewing the home data we are about to see. Because the road numbers are essentially neutral, they will not be of further use below. But in general, it was much much harder for the Astros to hit homers in the Astrodome compared to road parks, and much easier for the Astros to hit triples -- and to some degree doubles -- in the Astrodome compared to road parks, regardless of the Astrodome's dimensions.
Now the home data for the Astros (season averages):
Home
It's a little difficult to tell the effect of the dimension changes by looking at the raw data, articularly since the batting averages are .253 for both the Long Years and Short Years, which might lead to the conclusion that the longer dimensions did not affect hitting. So let's look at some rates.
Home
Now the differences become more obvious:
Doubles: During the Long Years, one out of every 5.73 hits was a double and in the Short Years one out of every 5.63 hits was a double. So, the dimension changes did not appreciably affect doubles.
Triples: During the Long Years, one out of every 20.68 hits was a triple and in the Short Years one out of every 32.53 hits was a triple. So, lengthening the dimensions increased triples by 57%.
Home Runs: During the Long Years, one out of every 22.96 hits was a home run and in the Short Years one out of every 15.28 hits was a home run. So, lengthening the dimensions decreased home runs by 33%.
Total Bases: During the Long Years, the Astros got 1.40 total bases per hit and in the Short Years got 1.44 total bases per hit. So, the dimension changes only slightly changed total bases per hit.
Putting it all together, lengthening the power alleys (and to some extent the foul lines and center field) shifts home runs to triples.
Looking at Jose Guillen's numbers at home in RFK, he has no triples and one home run. Kind of hard to say some of his would-be homers have been reduced to mere triples when he has no triples. As I mentioned in an earlier post, using a park home run adjustment analysis, RFK suppresses home runs by about half. So based on the park analysis and the Astrodome study, at most Guillen might be able to claim he should have one additional home run at RFK. (The other complainer, Vinny Castilla, has 6 homers at home, and one triple, so he may have a claim for another 3 homers. What is odd is that Castilla has only one homer on the road in approximately the same number of at-bats).
Side note on the Houston teams:
Over baseball history, singles have been worth approximately .46 runs, doubles .80, triples 1.02 and homers 1.4. Applying those to the Long and Short Year average seasons, you get approximately 385 runs for the Long Year seasons and 406 runs for the Short Year seasons, or about a 22 run per year disadvantage with the longer dimensions. That means on the hitting side, they should have been about 2 wins worse during the Long Years, all other things being equal.
Generally clubs build their teams to suit the stadium, so during the Long Years, so it is possible the Astros may have had a little less power and more speed, and in the Short Years may have had more home run hitters. However, the road data for the Long Years and Short Years is nearly identical, indicating on balance that the Houston teams in the Long Years and Short Years were equally capable in terms of power.
Houston did not have a significant number of power hitters in the Long Years. The Toy Cannon and Doug Rader were true power hitters, and combined for 5 seasons of 20+ home runs during the Long Years. The Astros also had Bob Watson, Dickie Thon, Joe Morgan and Cesar Cedeno during the Long Years, who had 9 seasons of 20+ home runs in their careers, but only two for Houston during the Long Years. Watson and Thon, strangely, had their only 20+ homer seasons during the Long Years -- and might be stretching the limits of any power hitter definition. In all, there were only 7 player seasons of 20+ home runs in the thirteen Long Years.
In the thirteen Short Years, there were 19 player seasons with 20+ home runs. The power on those clubs was Wynn (again - 2 seasons), Rader (again - 2 seasons), Cedeno (3 seasons), Lee May (3 seasons) and Glenn Davis (6 seasons). They also got 20+ seasons from Cliff Johnson, Kevin Bass and Franklin Stubbs.
It appears, then, that the Astros were at least trying to incorporate a little more power during the Short Years.
-----
*All park data is from Retrosheet.
I looked at the Astrodome's dimensions over the years, using the data at Ballparks.com. In 1965, the first year of the Astrodome, the fences were, left to right 340-375-406-375-340. For some reason, they lengthened the power alleys by 15 feet, so the dimensions from 1966-1971 were 340-390-406-390.
From 1972-1976 they shortened all the dimensions to 330-378-400-378-330. Then from 1977-1984 they went back to the same dimensions as 1966-1971. Then in 1985 they shortened again to the dimensions from 1972-1976, where they stayed until 1992 when they were reduced a little to 325-375-400-375-325.
In sum, from 1966-1971 and from 1977-1984, the dimensions were longer: 340-390-406-390-340. From 1972-1976 and from 1985-1992, the dimensions were shorter: 330-378-400-378-330 (with a slight reduction in 1992).
Ignoring the first year of the park (1965) and the first year of the new dimensions (1966), the above data provides 13 years of play with the dimensions twelve feet longer in the power alleys (the "Long Years") and 13 years of play with shorter power alleys (the "Short Years"). The 378/390 switch isn't a perfect match for the 380/395 distinction that Castilla and Guillen were complaining about, but it's probably close enough. One of the reasons the Astrodome is a a great example -- apart from the similar power alley dimensions -- is that weather is a non-factor.
Here is how the Houston team hit at home and on the road during the seasons with longer and shorter power alleys. First let's look at how they did on the road during those years (season averages):
Road
Seasons AB H 2b 3b HR
Long Years 2751 688 113 18 53
Short Years 2793 697 111 17 60
The road numbers are remarkably similar for all the years from 1967-1992, so we need not be too concerned about whether the quality or style of the various Houston teams in those 26 years are skewing the home data we are about to see. Because the road numbers are essentially neutral, they will not be of further use below. But in general, it was much much harder for the Astros to hit homers in the Astrodome compared to road parks, and much easier for the Astros to hit triples -- and to some degree doubles -- in the Astrodome compared to road parks, regardless of the Astrodome's dimensions.
Now the home data for the Astros (season averages):
Home
Seasons AB H 2b 3b HR
Long Years 2586 655 114 32 29
Short Years 2684 678 120 21 44
It's a little difficult to tell the effect of the dimension changes by looking at the raw data, articularly since the batting averages are .253 for both the Long Years and Short Years, which might lead to the conclusion that the longer dimensions did not affect hitting. So let's look at some rates.
Home
Seasons H/2b H/3b H/HR TB/H
Long Years 5.73 20.68 22.96 1.40
Short Years 5.63 32.53 15.28 1.44
Now the differences become more obvious:
Doubles: During the Long Years, one out of every 5.73 hits was a double and in the Short Years one out of every 5.63 hits was a double. So, the dimension changes did not appreciably affect doubles.
Triples: During the Long Years, one out of every 20.68 hits was a triple and in the Short Years one out of every 32.53 hits was a triple. So, lengthening the dimensions increased triples by 57%.
Home Runs: During the Long Years, one out of every 22.96 hits was a home run and in the Short Years one out of every 15.28 hits was a home run. So, lengthening the dimensions decreased home runs by 33%.
Total Bases: During the Long Years, the Astros got 1.40 total bases per hit and in the Short Years got 1.44 total bases per hit. So, the dimension changes only slightly changed total bases per hit.
Putting it all together, lengthening the power alleys (and to some extent the foul lines and center field) shifts home runs to triples.
Looking at Jose Guillen's numbers at home in RFK, he has no triples and one home run. Kind of hard to say some of his would-be homers have been reduced to mere triples when he has no triples. As I mentioned in an earlier post, using a park home run adjustment analysis, RFK suppresses home runs by about half. So based on the park analysis and the Astrodome study, at most Guillen might be able to claim he should have one additional home run at RFK. (The other complainer, Vinny Castilla, has 6 homers at home, and one triple, so he may have a claim for another 3 homers. What is odd is that Castilla has only one homer on the road in approximately the same number of at-bats).
Side note on the Houston teams:
Over baseball history, singles have been worth approximately .46 runs, doubles .80, triples 1.02 and homers 1.4. Applying those to the Long and Short Year average seasons, you get approximately 385 runs for the Long Year seasons and 406 runs for the Short Year seasons, or about a 22 run per year disadvantage with the longer dimensions. That means on the hitting side, they should have been about 2 wins worse during the Long Years, all other things being equal.
Generally clubs build their teams to suit the stadium, so during the Long Years, so it is possible the Astros may have had a little less power and more speed, and in the Short Years may have had more home run hitters. However, the road data for the Long Years and Short Years is nearly identical, indicating on balance that the Houston teams in the Long Years and Short Years were equally capable in terms of power.
Houston did not have a significant number of power hitters in the Long Years. The Toy Cannon and Doug Rader were true power hitters, and combined for 5 seasons of 20+ home runs during the Long Years. The Astros also had Bob Watson, Dickie Thon, Joe Morgan and Cesar Cedeno during the Long Years, who had 9 seasons of 20+ home runs in their careers, but only two for Houston during the Long Years. Watson and Thon, strangely, had their only 20+ homer seasons during the Long Years -- and might be stretching the limits of any power hitter definition. In all, there were only 7 player seasons of 20+ home runs in the thirteen Long Years.
In the thirteen Short Years, there were 19 player seasons with 20+ home runs. The power on those clubs was Wynn (again - 2 seasons), Rader (again - 2 seasons), Cedeno (3 seasons), Lee May (3 seasons) and Glenn Davis (6 seasons). They also got 20+ seasons from Cliff Johnson, Kevin Bass and Franklin Stubbs.
It appears, then, that the Astros were at least trying to incorporate a little more power during the Short Years.
-----
*All park data is from Retrosheet.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Palmeiro and Steroids
Okay, now my faith is shaken. Bonds took steroids? Who cares, no one likes him anyway. Canseco writes a doping book? Who cares, he was always a jerk and a crybaby. McGwire took steroids? I was never caught up in the McGwire hype, even during the battle with Sammy Sosa. They were so selfish, hugging each other and patting each other on the back. I liked it better when players on the opposing team treated each other as enemies and did not fraternize.
But Palmeiro? This one hurts. Here's a pure hitter who didn't need any help. He's quiet. Modest. Consistent. He doesn't hit .200 like McGwire. He doesn't treat everyone else like they are unimportant, like Bonds. He's not a nut case, like Canseco. He's a classic major league ballplayer.
He says he did not intentionally take steroids. I want to believe him. Especially after his testimony to Congress. But think about it. These guys are professional athletes. Except for 3 hours of "work" during the ballgame, they really have nothing else to do other than focus on what it takes to be a professional athlete. Conditioning and nutrition are normally a big part of that. Most athletes know exactly what goes into their bodies. They know how many grams of protein they've had each day. How many milligrams of each vitamin, etc. You're telling me Palmeiro didn't know something that was going into his body was a banned substance?
I want to believe him, but it's really hard.
In the meantime, I want to begin a player evaluation discount to account for the steroids, so that we can normalize the doped to the un-doped (not unlike a ballpark adjustment). I plan to call it the Genetically Normal Equivalents (GNOMES) or the Biologically Adjusted Discount (BAD), but I'm open to other suggestions.
But Palmeiro? This one hurts. Here's a pure hitter who didn't need any help. He's quiet. Modest. Consistent. He doesn't hit .200 like McGwire. He doesn't treat everyone else like they are unimportant, like Bonds. He's not a nut case, like Canseco. He's a classic major league ballplayer.
He says he did not intentionally take steroids. I want to believe him. Especially after his testimony to Congress. But think about it. These guys are professional athletes. Except for 3 hours of "work" during the ballgame, they really have nothing else to do other than focus on what it takes to be a professional athlete. Conditioning and nutrition are normally a big part of that. Most athletes know exactly what goes into their bodies. They know how many grams of protein they've had each day. How many milligrams of each vitamin, etc. You're telling me Palmeiro didn't know something that was going into his body was a banned substance?
I want to believe him, but it's really hard.
In the meantime, I want to begin a player evaluation discount to account for the steroids, so that we can normalize the doped to the un-doped (not unlike a ballpark adjustment). I plan to call it the Genetically Normal Equivalents (GNOMES) or the Biologically Adjusted Discount (BAD), but I'm open to other suggestions.
Guillen and RFK
So Vinny Castilla and Jose Guillen think they are getting gipped in RFK Stadium and it will affect contract negotiations. See http://sports-law.blogspot.com/2005/07/rfk-stadiums-false-dimensions-are.html. Guillen said "I should have 29 homers. I should be up there with Derrek Lee, Andruw Jones. You see the balls I'm hitting in those ballparks away from here. I just want to find out the truth on my own."
Using the methods described in Bill James' book "Win Shares", the Home Run Park Adjustment for Washington Nationals players would be .785, meaning you'd divide a player's home runs by that amount. Guillen has 19 home runs, so with the adjustment, he'd have about 24 if he played in neutral parks all the time (including on the road). However, only 1 of those extra 5 home runs would be at RFK (RFK itself actually suppresses home runs by half)...the others would come in road parks.
For comparison, the Braves have a Home Run Park Adjustment of .963, so Andruw Jones would have 33 home runs if he played exclusively in neutral parks. The Cubs have a Home Run Park Adjustment of 1.025, so Derrek Lee would have 31 home runs if he played exclusively in neutral parks. Guillen is not even close.
It is easy to see why Guillen doesn't like RFK...he only has 1 home run there, which is tied for 8th best on his team, even though he is the team's best hitter. But why, when the Nationals have gone into a nosedive and have lost the lead in the NL East, is he complaining about whether his personal home run totals are high enough at home? Maybe he should be worrying about the Nationals making the playoffs. In short, he is a head case.
Last year Guillen was the best hitter for the Angels. They were in a pennant race as the season wound down. They suspended Guillen for undisclosed reasons, just when they needed him most. The Angels made the playoffs, but did not put Guillen on the playoff roster and effectively released him. How much of a clubhouse problem must Guillen have been? He was their best hitter, and rather than fine him or something, the Angels basically said "You are such a cancer to this team, we are kicking you off the team, right in the thick of the playoff chase."
Using the methods described in Bill James' book "Win Shares", the Home Run Park Adjustment for Washington Nationals players would be .785, meaning you'd divide a player's home runs by that amount. Guillen has 19 home runs, so with the adjustment, he'd have about 24 if he played in neutral parks all the time (including on the road). However, only 1 of those extra 5 home runs would be at RFK (RFK itself actually suppresses home runs by half)...the others would come in road parks.
For comparison, the Braves have a Home Run Park Adjustment of .963, so Andruw Jones would have 33 home runs if he played exclusively in neutral parks. The Cubs have a Home Run Park Adjustment of 1.025, so Derrek Lee would have 31 home runs if he played exclusively in neutral parks. Guillen is not even close.
It is easy to see why Guillen doesn't like RFK...he only has 1 home run there, which is tied for 8th best on his team, even though he is the team's best hitter. But why, when the Nationals have gone into a nosedive and have lost the lead in the NL East, is he complaining about whether his personal home run totals are high enough at home? Maybe he should be worrying about the Nationals making the playoffs. In short, he is a head case.
Last year Guillen was the best hitter for the Angels. They were in a pennant race as the season wound down. They suspended Guillen for undisclosed reasons, just when they needed him most. The Angels made the playoffs, but did not put Guillen on the playoff roster and effectively released him. How much of a clubhouse problem must Guillen have been? He was their best hitter, and rather than fine him or something, the Angels basically said "You are such a cancer to this team, we are kicking you off the team, right in the thick of the playoff chase."
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