Any
Scoresheet player with a grass blade of nostalgia will relish every chapter of this history of the use of statistics in baseball.
However, The Numbers Game is more than an overdue accounting of when each stat was first used by whom. It’s, also, a
fascinating bit of a character study of the usually eccentric characters who shaped the statistical side of baseball and how
they often broke through fierce resistance from the baseball establishment.
Time
after time, history has shown that the statistics of baseball has attracted the fans at least as much as the action itself
and that player personnel and game strategies can be improved with better understanding of statistics. Yet, statistics have
been always been grossly under-respected. Publishers kept thinking fans wouldn’t be interested. Professors hide their
studies on baseball until after they’ve been tenured. GMs try to hide their statistical advisors, and most managers
haven’t thought they were of any use, anyway. As we all now know, the nay sawyers have been proven wrong on all accounts.
Schwarz draws out the dramatics
of these stories. Considering we already know how popular stats are now and that Major League Baseball and most of the individual
teams to one degree or another have finally embraced the more sophisticated stats of this post Earl Weaver - Bill James era,
Schwarz manages to keep our suspense up. He gives us a good ride from the chaotic 19th primordial baseball stew
to today’s web based instant analyses.
Alan
Schwarz writes for Baseball America, ESPN.com, and The New York Times. However, this is his first book. If I
have any reservation about The Numbers Game is that the tone gets almost mushy. He might have written it for a 12-year-old
girl.
However,
this is not a puff piece – at least, not all of it. Earnshaw Cook’s statistical studies may have turned established
baseball strategies on their head almost two decades before James – and many of his notions were true, but Schwarz clearly
paints him as a pompous phony. Seymour Siwoff brought accuracy to official stat keeping and vastly expanded the Elias Sports
Bureau’s stat keeping into a tool available for major league teams, but he was stubborn, power hungry, and vindictive
and thwarted most all attempts to have his data more available to the public. Even Bill James is not drawn with wings and
a halo, as he has been anything but conciliatory in his feud with Siwoff, which continues today. Lee Allen who worked decades
for the Hall of Fame and was critical for the personal info on the first major baseball encyclopedia is described in very
sympathetic tones along with his chain-smoking and “becoming what we now call an alcoholic”. The cold back-stabbing
amongst the partners of STATS is just faintly brought out amongst the accolades Schwarz bestows upon them. (Pete Palmer is
the only one left unscathed there.) And there was Dan Duquette’s covert stat man Mike Gimbel, who was finally exposed
not just as the baseball insider’s dreaded “statistics psycho, typical of his breed” (as quoted by Schwarz
of Boston writers), not just an eccentric owner of six pet alligators and other reptiles, not just a community college dropout,
but, also, a bragging self-proclaimed “secret power behind the Red Sox throne”. The Boston press practically rode
him out of town with tar and feathers. There are still baseball teams today who won’t acknowledge their stat men for
fear of being “Gimbelized”.
There
are many unsung heroes in this book, too. Canadian military strategist George Lindsey “his wife aghast, watched and
listened to roughly 400 games during the mid-1950s, scoring them with exacting precision so that he could investigate several
questions that dogged him.” Although, he never made a monetary profit from his findings, some of his work is still used
today. For example, he developed this table specifying, “the average total runs scored after each of the 24 possible
situations” (quoting Schwarz not Lindsey):
Bases Occupied
Outs |
|
0 |
1 |
2 |
3 |
1,2 |
1,3 |
2,3 |
Full |
0 |
.46 |
.81 |
1.19 |
1.39 |
1.47 |
1.94 |
1.96 |
2.22 |
1 |
.24 |
.50 |
.67 |
.98 |
.94 |
1.12 |
1.56 |
1.64 |
2 |
.10 |
.22 |
.30 |
.36 |
.40 |
.53 |
.69 |
.82 |
The
Numbers Game did hold a few personal disappointments, however. If you read a history of major league baseball and your favorite
team never gets mentioned, you’d be, at least, be a little disappointed. The statistical based board games All-Star
Baseball, Strat-O-Matic, and APBA each merited plenty of ink. However, the game I grew up on Big League Manager doesn’t
even get a mention. Personally, I’d rate it the superior of the four. Perhaps, because the cards were so easy to update,
they didn’t sell as many games as the others. Nor is my favorite baseball encyclopedia: The Sports Encyclopedia:
Baseball ever mentioned. It is, I believe, derivative the MacMillon encyclopedia which gets an entire chapter. (They share
the same head editor David Neft.) However, I much prefer how the data is laid out in “my encyclopedia”. The players
are shown by position by team by year, so you have a great view of each season and a good context for the stats you are looking
at. Their career totals and plenty of other interesting stuff are summarized in other parts of the book. Third, when it came
to the present day fantasy baseball craze, you’d think Rostisserie was all anyone played. Nope, Scoresheet doesn’t
get mentioned, either. And you know Scoresheet is the best!
For
these crimes, I have to limit Alan Schwarz’s first book to a triple.