The statistical and scientific nature of baseball is incredibly deep, far deeper than any other sport I can think of. You not only have the one-on-one of pitching that many other sports can rival (think cricket for example which is mostly about this match up), but once you start including men on base and positional state, it becomes absolutely beautiful to analyze.
This isn't to say other sports don't have action (basketball, soccer, etc) or chess like transitional strategy (football), but the scientific wealth of information in baseball is fairly unrivaled because of discrete nature and very calculable states. These qualities make it assaultable mathematically and scientifically in ways other sports that have more flowing nature cannot have done to them.
It's good to see the article give a nod to a cricket bowling study though. Cross-pollination is good. But for mathematics geeks, baseball is the Beautiful Game.
As a young child I remember telling my dad I thought baseball was boring because you didn't have to think or use strategy, just hit the ball and run. He gently but firmly corrected me and taught me that baseball is the thinking man's game. I still don't really get in to watching it but I've had more respect for it since then.
To me there is no sport that better exemplifies this idea than curling. To the naive observer it just looks like sliding stones down a sheet of ice. But when you understand the game, and level that professionals are able to play at, the strategy and depth of thought involved is simply astounding. It is like chess on ice.
Tennis serves provide much better statistical information as it's the same two people. Baseball is attractive because there are enough things to look at you end up finding correlations in any sample set, which rarely hold up to further investigation.
I'd take it further, baseball creates more discrete events to analyze than tennis. A strike, ball, and hit by pitch are all independently quantifiable (and represent only a tiny subset of pitching metrics) compared to the outcomes possible in tennis.
It's the thinking man's game because it;s boring. Baseball is unique in that play is limited to brief bursts of activity rarely lasting more than a few seconds. Then the actors return to fixed positions. During these extensive and predictable downtimes everyone has time to calculate and plan. It's like a group of bits all sitting at known energy states waiting for that one random bit to set everything in motion, that being the batter-pitcher outcome. In no other sport are so many of the players physically locked into place every few seconds. In no other sport can observers see and measure them all so regularly. It's the thinking mans game because there is so much downtime in which to ponder so many known values.
Give me the fluidity of soccer, hockey or basketball. That's a very different type of thinking. The great players in those sports are the ones able to keep track of all the motions without the downtime between plays.
> It's the thinking man's game because it;s boring
A very obviously subjective view. What you mean is, it's boring to you. Major League Baseball managed 74 million in total attendance in 2015. Given the 162 games, it manages a remarkable attendance figure per game average (30k).
I like NA Football way more than baseball. I go to dozens of baseball games a year and go to at most one NA football game every few years.
Why? Because baseball is inherently more boring. I can go, drink some beers, eat a hot dog, chat with my friends and have a good time. However I want to see all the activity in the NA football game, and I'll never do that from the 300 level of Gillette Stadium
Something can be boring and popular. In fact, I'd say that the regularity and slow pace of the game allows for a host of activities to occur around it. Chatting, eating, drinking can all be done without missing anything. And it is very suited to broadcast. In the days of radio the downtime allowed the commentator to keep everyone up to speed with everything on the field. Today, television broadcasts display all the stats and the role of color commentator fills the silence. But take all that away and the core game is very slow in comparison to other sports.
I agree - for me, baseball is great as background for other activities. For example, say that you're at a party with your friends. You have conversations that are happening, maybe some beer pong or cornhole or similar party games, and you have the Red Sox in the background. If you hit a lull where your conversation partner goes off to the bathroom or you just lost at beer pong, you can walk over to the TV and relax for a few minutes.
Similarly, bars often have baseball games on for the same purpose.
It's incredibly difficult for many players to sustain high levels of production over an entire season, to the point that there's even been talk reducing the number of games in the season to relieve the strain it puts on players.
It also frequently comes up as one of the main difficulties players have in adjusting to the major leagues. Additionally, it comes up a subject among managers, wiyh effective managers often being ones take care to rest their players during the season.
The length and strain of the long season are ubiquitous subjects that get talked about all the time, to the point that they are practically defining features of baseball.
I mean the individual game isn't that taxing. Compare to the length of any other team sport - only basketball comes vaguely close at 80ish games. Anything physical is taxing if you do it a ridiculous number of times.
American football is very similar in terms of locking people into set states regularly?
It is interesting in that it allows you to create many set plays, where is other football variants are too fluid and only occasionally allow for set plays.
American Football is certainly very similar, but plays involve a great many more people moving at once. I was at a friend's house recently when he suggested watching a game he had DVRed. I said we didn't have time. I was then witness to something I hadn't seen: an entire football game in a few minutes. A wizard with a DVR remote can speed through all the highlights, absorbing all the important parts of the game in perhaps 15 minutes. I don't think that is possible with soccer/hockey/basketball.
> The statistical and scientific nature of baseball is incredibly deep, far deeper than any other sport I can think of
Americans also love to break down and quantify sport metrics and analyze them up the wazoo (see basketball and American football). I have noticed this creep into soccer (not sure if this is to because of the 'America' effect, or because we now have the technology) - only recently did we start getting statistics on number of passes by a player (and success rate) as well as total distance covered in a match.
The traditional 'stats' for soccer were: goals, attempted goals (on/off target), fouls, cards, corners and % possession.
Call me a sport Luddite, but I want to enjoy a good argument with a friend about who the better player is between Messi and Ronaldo without looking up their pass rates.
Baseball stadium effect is studied hugely still and in most complex calculations taken into account in some way (usually as an offset for specific traits or types of hits or plays).
Batting order is thought of to mostly be figured out mathematically at least now. In cricket, if you are talking about 20-20, I expect that to be the case too. If you are talking about match, then I'm not sure.
I'm curious what similarity there is in pitch / bowling selection. That is just starting to get looked at in baseball now.
Apparently baseball learned to some degree from hockey. I remember reading in Roger Kahn's The Boys of Summer that the first man the Dodgers hired to stay on top of statistics had done that job for an NHL team.
baseball also has the most games per season (for American sports). Football ends up being arbitrary, and half the teams will play 15 games a year with a specialized roster. Hockey/Basketball have fewer players, but 80ish games. Baseball doubles that with a mix between specialized and general players. It's just slotting in people and measuring stats for defense, and hit percentage on offense. It's made to be dumped into a spreadsheet and graphed.
Two factors that have aided statistical analysis of baseball and helped it secure this reputation: the long term historical data and the large number of games per season.
MMA has the issue of not having enough data. Fighters only have matches every few months - the wear and tear is too high to have them fighting multiple times per week for half of the year. Another example of this is football - a 16-game season isn't even close to getting the data required to make good analysis.
As a result, even sophisticated commentary on football and MMA tends to be a crapshoot.
Football by _far_ has the best announcers and analystss. Basketball has the second worst. MMA has Joe Rogan - nuf said.
Joking aside. Even your mediocre football analysis is stat filled and the in depth chalk talk on some shows is pretty good.
Some of the basketball play chalk talk is just hideous, contradictory, and stone age in comparison. It really needs a moneyball type thing to happen to it.
One of my favorite moments from Michael Lewis' Moneyball is how Billy Beane's introduces Lenny Dykstra:
> Physically, Lenny didn’t belong in the same league with him. He was half Billy’s size, and had a fraction of Billy’s promise—which is why the Mets hadn’t drafted him until the thirteenth round. Mentally, Lenny was superior, which was odd considering Lenny wasn’t what you’d call a student of the game. Billy remembers sitting with Lenny in a Mets dugout watching the opposing pitcher warm up. “Lenny says, ‘So who’s that big dumb ass out there on the hill?’ And I say, ‘Lenny, you’re kidding me, right? That’s Steve Carlton. He’s maybe the greatest left-hander in the history of the game.’ Lenny says, ‘Oh yeah! I knew that!’ He sits there for a minute and says, “So, what’s he got?’ And I say, ‘Lenny, come on. Steve Carlton. He’s got heat and also maybe the nastiest slider ever.’ And in. Finally he just says, ‘Shit, I’ll stick him.’ I’m sitting there thinking, that’s a magazine cover out there on the hill and all Lenny can think is that he’ll stick him.
---
A little backstory. Billy Beane was a phenomenal baseball prospect that only ever flirted with the major league. As opposed to Lenny Dykstra -- who had very little in expectations as a prospect -- became a 3x All-Star Outfielder, won a Silver Slugger (1993, OF), MVP Runner-up (1993) and a World Series Champion with the 1986 Mets during a 14 year career.
Of course the, Beane\Lewis caricature of Dykstra is merely anecdotal, but it falls in line with the anecdotes at the end of this article. I won't further perpetuate the characterization, but it does seem like there's a _je ne sais quoi?_ ability that allows someone to focus on a task by eliminating all distractions and situational qualifications. Maybe ignorance helps out, but I get the feeling that it has very little to due with long term success.
I played baseball at the collegiate level and definitely agree that color was the biggest indicator of pitch type for me. Curveballs were very red, fastballs were a mix of red and white, and splitters were almost completely white. Before a pitch, I would visualize what color and location I was looking for and if the pitch looked like it matched, I swung and hoped for the best.
If you like the idea of working on this kind of research project, you might check out a local Baseball Hack Day (held annually at the beginning of the season in March or April).
I was told growing up that Ted Williams, the last 400 hitter in baseball, had vision so great he could see the seams on the baseball as it approached him.
While that turned out to be false it is a fact that when he became a fighter pilot during the Korean War and was tested he had vision only one person in 100,000 possessed.
I cannot find the article right now but there is an article about Greg Maddux discussing how he practiced making his motion the same for all his pitches. This cut down on the hitter's ability to judge what to do.
Greg Maddux was one of my baseball heroes growing up!! I'm not sure if this is the article you're talking about, but it has a few paragraphs about what you're talking about:
(If you don't want to click, here are the relevant passages.)
First, Maddux was convinced no hitter could tell the speed of a pitch with any meaningful accuracy. To demonstrate, he pointed at a road a quarter-mile away and said it was impossible to tell if a car was going 55, 65 or 75 mph unless there was another car nearby to offer a point of reference.
“You just can’t do it,” he said. Sometimes hitters can pick up differences in spin. They can identify pitches if there are different releases points or if a curveball starts with an upward hump as it leaves the pitcher’s hand. But if a pitcher can change speeds, every hitter is helpless, limited by human vision.
“Except,” Maddux said, “for that [expletive] Tony Gwynn.”
Because of this inherent ineradicable flaw in hitters, Maddux’s main goal was to “make all of my pitches look like a column of milk coming toward home plate.” Every pitch should look as close to every other as possible, all part of that “column of milk.” He honed the same release point, the same look, to all his pitches, so there was less way to know its speed — like fastball 92 mph, slider 84, change-up 76.
One day I sat a dozen feet behind Maddux’s catcher as three Braves pitchers, all in a row, did their throwing sessions side-by-side. Lefty Steve Avery made his catcher’s glove explode with noise from his 95-mph fastball. His curve looked like it broke a foot-and-a-half. He was terrifying. Yet I could barely tell the difference between Greg’s pitches. Was that a slider, a changeup, a two-seam or four-seam fastball? Maddux certainly looked better than most college pitchers, but not much. Nothing was scary.
"This experience of “blacking out” probably speaks to the lack of frontal-cortex activity during the moment — hitters aren’t using the part of the brain that’s best for mapping out complicated, deliberate decisions, so maybe it’s not surprising they bypass the frontal cortex and use deeper, darker parts of the brain."
That sounds a lot like descriptions of the "flow state" from other domains.
Can somebody explain what is going on in the video? I understand that swinging at this kind of ball is some kind of a loss, but what if he saw it is going to hit the ground and did not swing? Would it be a lost round for the pitching team?
It depends what you mean by 'round.' The batter has a 'strike zone', that is, if the ball is pitched there, it's considered a strike. Generally, this zone is from the knees to the mid-chest.
A batter has two numbers: balls and strikes. When the batter gets 3 strikes, they're out. If they get 4 balls (pitches that aren't in the strike zone), they walk (advance towards first base).
If a batter swings and misses at a pitch that would normally be a ball, it's considered a strike. If he hadn't swung, it would have been considered a ball.
The point of the video is that at the professional level, batters should be able to tell quickly when a pitch will be as 'off' as the one in the video - so why wasn't the batter able to?
I see, thank you! So, not immediate loss probably, but wrong decision that added to the tally of strikes instead of tally of balls. A follow up question: do pitchers intentionally throw this kind of ball, or was it most likely unintentional and the swing was a saving grace?
Sometimes they do - it ultimately depends on the current pitch count (balls and strikes), the batter, and the pitcher. There are certain situations when "off-speed" (non-fastball pitches, like the one in the video) are usually better.
In this case, the pitch was probably further off than the pitcher wanted, but the pitch thrown is generally less accurate and moves a lot, making it difficult to hit.
For example, when a better has 2 strikes they need to "protect the plate" - swing at any pitch that could -possibly- be a strike (while if they had 0 or 1 strikes, they may let a pitch go hoping it's a ball).
If you're interested in the amount of strategy that goes into a pitchers strategy, I recommend watching this[1] 30 second video of an MLB announcer predicting a pitchers pitches. (Notice the pitch count in the bottom right - "1-2" reads as "1 ball, 2 strikes"
That's a fun video and it definitely hints at the strategy involved, but it's worth noting that in-game announcers routinely get these sorts of guesses wrong. Which is just to say it's not quite as predictable as this video implies in isolation.
In this specific case, it was probably further from the strike zone than the pitcher wanted. That said, pitchers throw balls often to see if hitters will swing at them, and some hitters are more apt to swing at bad pitches (and therefore pitchers exploit this).
Pitches at the bottom of the strikezone, or pitches that are low and drop below the strikezone (that would be called balls) are generally hard to hit, so a lot of pitchers throw sinking pitches there hoping to either get a very borderline strike or a swing and miss.
In addition to the good answers of others: sometimes, pitchers even intentionally throw four balls, throwing the ball meters wide, sometimes behind the batsman's back (the catcher will know such a throw is coming, and move to catch the ball)
That can happen, for instance, if second base is occupied and two men are out. Giving a batsman a free run changes that into a situation with still two men out, but first and second base occupied. With first and second base occupied, if the next batsman hits the ball, all three players have to run; that make it easier to get the third out needed to end the (half-)innings.
It also can be done if the man at bat is a particularly good hitter, and the next ones at strike are deemed less of a danger. For example, with third base occupied, it's highly likely that a good hitter will hit the ball in such a way that the man at third base can score a point; that risk is lower when facing a not-so-good hitter. Therefore, the pitching team would prefer giving away that free run and have the lesser player take a go.
Yes, pitchers sometimes intentionally throw those kind of balls, in order to do what happened in the video. The one in the video is an extreme example, with most balls of this type crossing the plate very low, but not hitting the ground. It's also sometimes done with no intention of it being playable, but rather to throw off a batter for the next pitch or two.
There are also situations where a pitcher will intentionally walk a batter, such as if the batter is very good, so that they can pitch to the next player, who may not be as good of a hitter. There are a whole other set of rules though on how to intentionally walk someone. An at-bat can get complicated with the various ways a batter and pitcher can go about trying to get into the headspace of the other in order to achieve their successive goals.
Pitchers do both. The pitch shown in the video almost certainly just got away from him, since it was the first pitch of the at-bat and so far off the plate. But a pitcher who is "ahead in the count" -- i.e. one who is in a favorable position regarding balls and strikes -- will often miss the plate intentionally in an attempt to draw a swing without putting themselves at risk. This is called "wasting a pitch."
Did you see the video? That was even worst that wasting a pitch that might end up in the dirt near the plate, but this was a good 3 feet in front and 2 feet wide of the plate. The only reason the catcher got it was the ball had enough spin to bounce back into the catcher and not away.
Which is why I said that, "the pitch shown in the video almost certainly just got away from him."
But, the main reason I'm responding is to say that this pitch definitely isn't worse (for any reasonable definition) than a pitch that misses closer to the plate. There are no runners on base and this is the first pitch in the at bat.
It doesn't matter if the catcher catches it or not. It's a dead ball.
He could have thrown this pitch 15 feet over Phillips's head and into the stands and the outcome is the same.
Yes sometimes they're intentional. If you can trick a batter into swinging at something they're unlikely to hit (or will hit poorly), that's probably the best kind of pitch you can make. Also it can be part of a psychological strategy.
This pitch was probably unintentionally bad, but maybe not by much.
Yes, if he hadn't swung at it it would have been counted as a "ball". If a pitcher throws 4 "balls" in an at bat then the batter gets to move to first base for free (a "walk").
The pitcher tries to mostly aim at or around the strike zone of the batter: from knees to shoulders and over the white plate in the ground from left to right. This pitch was waaaay off the mark yet the batter still swung. It was so far off it actually bounced in the dirt way in front of the plate.
That is just a really really bad pitch and the batter is laughing at himself for actually swinging at the thing. He probably thought the pitch was something else and completely miscalculated.
This pitch was entirely unintentionally and laughably bad.
Is the ball thrown in the first video "valid" even though it bounces on the floor? If so, how is the hitter supposed to hit that? If not, does his attempt to hit it result in a penalty for him? Thanks in advance!
If the batter hadn't swung, it would have been considered a ball. When a pitcher throws four balls to a batter before they strike out (three swings or balls in the right zone they don't swing at), the batter walks. The batter probably should have realized the ball wasn't in the strike zone and shouldn't have swung.
Reading the other responses here it occurs to me how remarkable it is that so much needs to be defined to fully understand this one pitch. Minimally, you need to know what an "out," a "run," an "at bat," a "ball," a "strike," a "base," a "base hit," and a "walk" are.
First of all, let's understand what the objective is. The offense, that is to say, the batter, is attempting to advance around each of the four "bases" in counter-clockwise order (i.e. score a "run") without being eliminated from play (i.e. make an "out"). The offense is trying to score as many runs as possible before making three outs. Teams alternate turns attempting this.
The batter most typically advances by striking a pitched ball within play such that they are able to safely reach base without making an out. This is called a "base hit." An out is made on balls in play when the ball is caught cleanly off the bat in the air, when the runner is tagged by the ball while not on a base, or when the ball reaches a base ahead of the runner in a situation where that runner is not allowed to retreat to the previous base. This happens when another runner from the same team occupies the base behind the runner (and always on any play between home plate and first base). This last case is called a "force out." (Existing runners also must not attempt to advance on balls hit in the air until they have been caught by a fielder. This rule prevents a runner from setting off on a sprint while a high fly ball lazily floats through the air and into a fielder's glove.) [0]
A given play ends when all runners are accounted for -- that is, when each runner is either safely on a base or has been eliminated.
A batter has limited opportunity to put the ball in play each time he goes to bat (an "at bat"). A zone is defined -- the "strike zone" -- through which any pitched ball not swung at results in a penalty for the batter -- a "strike". This area stretches from left to right over home plate and vertically from roughly the batter's knees to the letters on his chest. However, any swing that misses the ball also results in a strike, no matter where that ball was pitched. Finally, a batted ball that lands out of play -- a "foul ball" -- can also result in a strike. However, such a batted ball can never result in an out (unless, as with balls in play, it is fielded cleanly in the air). It can never be the final strike in an at bat. [1]
Any pitched ball that does not result in a strike is counted as a "ball". A hitter receiving three strikes is called out (i.e. he "strikes out"). A hitter receiving four balls is rewarded first base -- a "walk." In either case, his time at bat is complete.
The batter may also be rewarded first base when a pitched ball strikes his body. However, provided he does not hit the batter, the pitcher is free to throw the ball anywhere he pleases, with the obvious incentive to either make the batter swing and miss or to place the pitch within the strike zone without him swinging (thus (hopefully) generating a "called strike" from the umpire).
So, this pitch is legal and the batter in this case is indeed penalized. He swung and missed, which is always a strike, no matter where the pitch was located. However, it is a minor penalty. This was the first pitch in this at bat and therefore his first strike. He remains at bat with two more strikes remaining to attempt to reach base safely in one of the ways described above.
[0] The runner is actually free to start toward the next base on balls hit in the air, but he must return to his starting base if the ball is caught. He is out if the defense can tag his starting base with the hit ball in hand before he is able to return.
[1] A ball fouled directly back into the catcher's mitt is indeed a third strike (and, thus, an out). It is treated the same as a swing and a miss.
Thanks to everybody for the replies. Yours in particular feels like a whole introduction to the sport! There are multiple rules in this game! Thanks a lot.
Would hitters benefit from more practice against "game situation"-level pitching?
It occurs me that they get a lot of practice against decent batting-practice pitching and pitching machines, but how often do they get reps against high-caliber pitching outside of actual games?
It's called a simulated game and it is used... sparingly at the major league level but very common in the minors either for rehab assignments or as training. There are also fancy pitching machines that can recreate different types of pitches at various speeds for hitters to work with in batting cages.
The answer is an unsatisfactory maybe. Pitchers good enough to throw game-quality pitches and do it often enough are already playing professionally for a team. And teams don't generally want any extra workload being put on their pitchers arms because (1) good pitching is rare and (2) it's expensive to develop (time to majors) and control ($$$ to retain).
Back to simulated games... Starting pitchers throw practice sessions between starts and teams might occasionally put hitters out there to take some cuts. Not sure it actually has a tangible benefit compared to just using a machine. My guess is no.
Edit:
I'll liken it a little bit to golf. Matches are a terrible way to get better at golf. You make the biggest gains through repetition work at the range. Getting your swing to be consistent, working on making good contact, etc. Good mechanics can turn you from a guy who shoots well over 100 to someone that shoots low 90's consistently.
But the range isn't a game situation. Game situation golf teaches you how to get out of jams and situations you just cannot get into on a range... but they're hopefully few and far between. So biggest gains end up coming from repetitive practice while going from good to really good (lets say shooting mid-80's) comes from good mechanics and knowing how to move around a course.
When I was a kid, I remember a conversation about Charlie Hough (knuckleball pitcher). The crux was that hitters would never get practice against a good knuckleball, since once you found a pitcher who could throw a good knuckleball, you'd sign them to a contract and save their arm for real games.
I don't see how they could not benefit. How many pitches a game are they seeing? Like 15? If you had the pitches for it (I don't think they do), it seems like you could do a few hundred a day if you were deliberately practicing.
Assuming situational pitch prediction being one of the biggest batter advantages, one wonders how well a pitcher would perform if they threw a truly random progression of pitches.
Would be funny if they tried that - give the catcher some form of RNG, don't let the pitcher disagree with catcher's first signal. Probably hard to test properly though, since pitchers would be used to not doing it that way for so long.
The problem is some batters are much better at certain locations and some pitchers are much better at certain pitches and locations. The batter could probably lay off until he gets what he's looking for.
But you might be able to get a club like the A's to try it in spring ball or something for a few games a year and gather some stats on it.
More than once: even after knowing the full title from a previous read but glancing and reading it as "Hitler" anyway multiple times. I think it's a result from the uppercase first letter on each word: it's common to read Hitler with uppercase h but not Hitters with uppercase h. And as word recognition is a function of the peripheral letters of the word it gives a cognitive mishap.
Edit: This could very well be a textbook example on why not use uppercase first letters when not needed on UIs.
This isn't to say other sports don't have action (basketball, soccer, etc) or chess like transitional strategy (football), but the scientific wealth of information in baseball is fairly unrivaled because of discrete nature and very calculable states. These qualities make it assaultable mathematically and scientifically in ways other sports that have more flowing nature cannot have done to them.
It's good to see the article give a nod to a cricket bowling study though. Cross-pollination is good. But for mathematics geeks, baseball is the Beautiful Game.