A New Level Of Losing

In his column entitled "The 13 levels of losing," Bill Simmons defines a Stomach Punch Game as "any roller-coaster game that ends with A) an opponent making a pivotal (sometimes improbable) play, or B) one of your guys failing in the clutch ... usually ends with fans filing out after the game in stunned disbelief, if they can even move at all ... always haunting, sometimes scarring."  Simmons does a good job here - every sports fan can remember at least a few times when one of his teams collapsed in the clutch and he was left feeling as if he was punched in the stomach.  For me, my most recent Stomach Punch Game was during last year's NLDS, when the Braves lost Game 4 to the Giants thanks to a series of physical and mental miscues highlighted by three errors by backup second baseman Brooks Conrad.

When that NLDS concluded just under a year ago, never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that the 2011 Braves season would end in not only another Stomach Punch Game, but what I'd like to call a Stomach Punch Season.  The completion of the Braves' historic collapse on Wednesday evening was so painful for me that I honestly thought about not mentioning it on Caught Looking at all, before my sense of responsibility as a legitimate journalist (read: blogger) took over.  This post won't be long, because I can't put into words the terrible taste that the 2011 MLB season has left in my mouth.

A day later, I'm left trying to find any positives that I can in the Braves' disaster.  I've tried telling myself that if the Braves could come so close to the playoffs this year with an extremely young team and a ton of injuries to their pitching staff (Tommy Hanson and Jair Jurrjens each missed the stretch run), they should be great next season when everyone is healthy.  I've tried to convince myself that the collapse will, in the long run, be a good exerience for the young players to build on, and might even convince Fredi Gonzalez that he needs to do a vastly better job of managing his bullpen through a 162-season.  I've even tried to argue that the collapse cements the legacy of Bobby Cox, who took a weaker team to the postseason last year; under his leadership I firmly believe this never would have happened.

I know, however, that none of the above is likely to be true.  More than anything, I'm just glad that it's over.  For two weeks now I've been predicting that the Braves would miss the playoffs - I saw it coming a mile away, and felt helpless as I continued to watch games and check scores and see the Braves lose.  Now that it's officially happened, if there is a positive it's that there will be no more disappointing results for me to check tonight or read about tomorrow morning.  The 2011 baseball season is over for the Atlanta Braves and their fans.  Finally, I can rest.

Moneyball: A Review

Ever since Michael Lewis's Moneyball hit bookstore shelves in April of 2004, I've been a big fan of the story of Billy Beane's transformation from small market GM to baseball revolutionary.  The story, as portrayed by Lewis's book, is one not just about baseball, but also about risk-taking, relationship-building and management style.  It's these themes that have placed Lewis's book in the hands of business executives across the country and motivated countless people, myself included, to pursue professional opportunities on the then-emerging, now-established numerical side of sports.  Shortly after the book came out, I had the opportunity to speak with Michael Lewis on the phone about his experiences while writing it, and I was also fortunate enough to meet Billy Beane himself this past year.  The next logical step in my love of Moneyball was to see the movie, starring Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill, and I took care of that last night.

Overall, I found the film extremely entertaining, both as a baseball / sabermetrics nerd and as a moviegoer.  From my brief interaction with Billy Beane last school year and from what I read in the book, Brad Pitt's representation of the Oakland GM seemed accurate and well-acted.  Jonah Hill did a great job playing the part of the "baseball outsiders" who really lead the statistical revolution popularized by the A's and Moneyball during the early- to mid-2000s; while most people assume Beane is the father of sabermetrics, in reality his contribution towards the movement was using the tools that Bill James had invented and "stat heads" like Hill's character had embraced.  While sports movies typically struggle to find actors who can artfully and realistically portray professional athletes, the cast of mostly no-names who played A's Moneyball poster children Scott Hatteberg, David Justice and Chad Bradford handled the roles well.  I also loved Philip Seymour Hoffman as bumbling and over-praised Oakland manager Art Howe - perhaps the most underrated performance in the movie, in my opinion.

The movie is admittedly slow, and takes a little while to get to its ultimate point - that Beane took a huge risk by transitioning from traditional scouting practices to analytical reasoning and, after early-season struggles and internal conflict with his scouting director and manager, won (at least until the playoffs rolled around).  There are a lot of scenes showing the conflict between Beane and his scouts, coaches and, at times, his own "gut," most likely left in there to ensure that the average movie-goer fully understands the distinction between Beane's Moneyball strategy and the more traditional, career-maintaining strategies of baseball's "old school."  Readers of the book and baseball fans might find all of these scenes a bit repetitive and slow, albeit very entertaining and at times quite humorous.

Brad Pitt does a great job as Billy Bean in Moneyball.

What I liked most about the movie, though, wasn't how it portrayed what Beane did, but instead the way it accurately portrayed what Beane didn't do.  At the end of the movie - I don't think this needs a "spoiler alert" tag because a) the book has been out for more than seven years and b) it's based on historical events that happened almost a decade ago - Beane is left without a World Series championship and caught between staying in Oakland near family and leaving for a much higher paying job with Boston.  The movie acknowledges that while Beane's Moneyball shockingly took the 2002 Oakland A's to the American League playoffs, his methodologies were incorporated even more successfully in places like Boston, which won the 2004 World Series with then-29-year-old GM Theo Epstein adopting Moneyball-esque practices.

Whether or not you've read the book (or even like baseball, for that matter), I would highly recommend the film.  More than just a baseball movie, Moneyball is a great story about leadership, self-transformation and risk-taking - a true underdog story that relies more on mental will than physical strength.  Start by seeing the movie and, when you find yourself enjoying it, you can go back and read the book for the full story on Billy Beane's impressive rise to the top of baseball's list of most wanted General Managers.

Room For HGH In The NFL?

On my way to check my fantasy football roster this morning, I stumbled across an intentionally provocative headline on the CBS Sports website arguing that "In Peyton's case, using HGH to heal is no crime."  The article, written by CBS Sports columnist Gregg Doyel, argues that if doctors prescribe HGH to heal Peyton Manning's injured neck, he should be allowed to take it and, as soon as he's ready, play in the NFL.  Doyel asserts that this would be fair, since it would be for medical (and not performance enhancing) purposes, and would be good for the NFL because it would ensure that one of the league's marquee players returns to the field faster.  Doyel acknowledges, however, that fans are already mentally opposed to HGH, but claims that people are missing the point - that if a doctor says it's OK for Peyton, then we should accept it.

To me, Doyel is missing a lot in his argument.  First, we need to think about what's best for Peyton Manning and his legacy.  As of now, Manning is considered one of the best quarterbacks to ever play the game of football, and one of the NFL's best ambassadors as well.  The way his team has been struggling so far this season without him is further testament to his value, and suggests that he might be an even greater asset than his extremely-impressive career numbers originally lead us to believe.  Manning is a first-ballot Hall of Famer who can't do anything to change the public's opinion of him; except, that is, start using HGH to recover from his off-season neck surgery.

Additionally, we're walking along a very slippery slope here if we agree to let Peyton Manning use HGH to recover from his injury.  This is the National Football League we're talking about - it's the most savage sports league in the world and, despite the league's efforts to protect its players with rule changes, virtually every player is injured every week.  Where would we draw the line between who's injured enough to take HGH and who's just "regular injured?"  You can quickly see every player lining up to take HGH to recover from sore muscles, ankle tweaks and all sorts of very routine ailments, creating a league of suped-up freaks.  And the fact that a doctor prescribes the HGH doesn't really change anything - as we've seen in other sports (baseball, track and field, etc.) there are tons of unsavory characters in the sports medicine community willing to do anything for a buck.  Don't think anything will change when it comes to prescribing HGH to NFLers.

It's easy to say that allowing Manning to take HGH to recover from his neck injury is a "no brainer" when you don't think about the long term consequences of such a move.  Admittedly, neither the NFL nor fantasy football are as fun or exciting without Peyton Manning under center for the Colts every weekend.  But, unfortunately, injuries are part of football; they've derailed the careers of great players before, and they're surely do so again in the future.  There's no reason to risk the NFL's rock-solid relationship with its fans by allowing one of its stars to do what many will perceive as break the rules, though.  At the end of the day, the NFL is an entertainment property, and I think most fans will find an HGH-fueled Peyton Manning more upsetting than entertaining.

Too Much MLB

By now, you hopefully all know that I love Major League Baseball as much as anyone.  I can watch any game at any time and be completely satisfied - I truly believe that each contest brings an opportunity to see something you've never seen before, and I consider magical what other people view as routine.  In light of all this, the title and subject of this post likely doesn't make sense to you - yet.  But hear me out here: The MLB season is a bit too long.

Now, at first blush you might stop me here, and accuse me of some blatant homerism.  After all, my Atlanta Braves are in danger of squandering what was just a handful of days ago seen as an insurmountable NL Wild Card lead, and admittedly a shorter regular season would help their playoff push.  But the Braves struggles aren't my motivation for this appeal for a shorter season.  Keep in mind, for starters, that a 162-game regular season is a relatively recent phenomenon by baseball's standards; not too long ago, in the early 1960s, the season lasted just 154 games.

Like it or not, modern professional sports are driven by star power.  The NBA has grown tremendously over the last two decades (the recent work stoppage not withstanding) because the league and its teams did a great job of elevating key players to stardom.  Baseball has the same potential, but the added injuries, physical exhuastion and mental breakdowns that naturally accompany six straight months of baseball limit the sport's quest to create more stars.  It's not good for the game when some of the sport's top talents are injured for much of the season, especially during the later months.  A shorter season would lighten the load on everyday players and keep them on the field more often.

To be fair, the MLB has a mechanism for helping teams get through the rigorous, 162-game season: On September 1st, rosters expand to give teams more depth.  But while the larger rosters provide teams with enough healthy players to make it through September, they also force unknown former minor leaguers into key roles during a time when MLB should be showcasing its biggest names.  Whether the Braves make the playoffs or not, the fact that starting pitchers Randall Delgado and Mike Minor will decide the team's fate while injured and overworked stars Jair Jurrjens and Tommy Hanson sit on the DL is unfortunate.

The MLB likely sees the situation as an example of "you can't have too much of a good thing," with that good thing being baseball.  While a shorter season might equate to slightly less gate, sponsorship and TV revenue, the league needs to focus on the full ramifications of a longer season.  Though rewarding health and organizational depth is admirable, the average fan doesn't tune in to see which clubs have the deepest bullpens or best utility infielders.  During key, nationally televised matchups (and especially during the playoffs), fans want to see the game's brightest stars playing (the All Star Game voting process, if nothing else, has taught us that).  By reducing the number of regular season games back to 154, but keeping the season the same length date-wise, MLB can add additional off days throughout the year and protect the health of its everyday players that fans pay to see.

Televised Sports To The Rescue

With HDTV, 3DTV and a host of other new ways to consume sports on television popping up recently, more and more emphasis has been put on the video quality of sports broadcasts.  We no longer care as much about what game is on as we do about the coverage itself, and at times we take for granted the fact that we can watch sports - albeit on small screens and in standard definition - from a number of amazing places.  I flew across the country last night and watched Boise State play at Toledo for more than half of the flight, which got me thinking about some of the best places to watch sports on a really shabby screen.

• AIRPLANES: While JetBlue and Virgin America may be considered discount airlines because they lack first class seating, I'll take a JetBlue coach seat with DirecTV over a first class seat without television any day.  In January I watched Stanford play in the Orange Bowl from a JetBlue flight, and nothing makes a long trip better than 36 channels of DirecTV programming.  JetBlue carries ESPN, ESPN2, ESPN News and ESPN Classic (plus the chance of catching sports on ABC, CBS, TBS, etc.), so there's bound to be something good on.

• FITNESS CENTERS:  I'm not a great long distance runner, and don't really enjoy my time on the treadmill.  An iPod definitely helps move a run along, but nothing helps me pump out a long jog like good sports on TV.  Newer treadmills that have individualized screens are ideal (see right).  I like to workout on a Sunday afternoon during NFL football games - pick the time slot where both CBS and FOX are showing games, toggle between the two, and you're all set.  In general, I find faster-paced sports better for the treadmill, so I try to stay away from baseball in favor of basketball, football (the big hits get your adrenaline pumping) or sometimes hockey.  Stay away from NASCAR at all costs, too - nothing makes you conscious of running in circles than watching a bunch of stock cars driving in circles.

• WAITING ROOMS:  I'll never understand why not every doctor's office / hospital waiting room and every airport gate area has a TV in it, but amazingly some don't.  Fortunately, most of the time you can kill some waiting time with TV and, if you're reasonably pushy, can usually get sports on the screen.  I watched some of Team USA's amazing Women's World Cup victory over Brazil from a hospital waiting room, and it made the entire experience much more relaxing.

Of course, it's always best to watch a game on a big HDTV from a nice, comfortable couch.  But when you're on the road and can't make it home by game time, it's nice to be in a place where you can catch some sports coverage.  Now that more and more people have video-enabled phones and tablets and channels like ESPN continue to roll out more live mobile video, the need for TV screens at the gym or in waiting rooms has admittedly shrunk.  But until mobile video is universal, let's show come appreciation for the small screens that bring us sports when we need them most.

Conference Jumping

As I've covered at length here on Caught Looking, I've been a big fan of Ivy League sports for the past decade.  In addition to having attended one of the League's member schools as an undergraduate (so, admittedly, I'm biased), I really admire the consistency that accompanies the league year after year.  The Ivy League is what college sports should be all about - a competitive athletic outlet for students that complements, but is secondary to, a solid college education.  The same eight Ivy League schools compete against each other in every sport every season, and as a fan you know that each year you'll have the same seven opponents on the schedule to look forward to.

I understand that other NCAA conferences lack the Ivy League's tradition, and also have a lot more at stake - unlike the Ivy League, which is known more for its academic strength, other college leagues rely on sports to promote the value of their schools - so it's natural for these conferences to change member schools in the name of strengthening their competition and national footprint.  The Pac-10, for example, became the Pac-12 this year by adding Colorado and Utah chiefly to strengthen the conference's reach in the valuable Denver and Salt Lake City markets.

As a college sports fan, I think the advantages that college football and basketball have over the NFL and NBA are the rivalries.  While Jets vs. Patriots and Knicks vs. Heat are entertaining, they can't compete with Michigan vs. Ohio State football or Duke vs. North Carolina basketball in terms of fan passion and tradition.  While the professional leagues have the higher quality play, the college ranks have always been able to say that they have the heated rivalries that define sports competition.  The question, then, is what will all of the proposed conference realignments do to some of the nation's top rivalries?

With the Big-XII's future in jeopardy, we're in danger of damaging Texas vs. Oklahoma.  The Pac-12's land grab has already taken a bite out of Utah vs. BYU, and, if Texas A&M does move to the SEC, what will happen to its rivalries with Texas and Texas Tech?  Are we now living in a college sports world where Duke and UNC or Michican and Ohio State could at some point be detached in the name of profitability and market diversification?  While it may seem impossible, the same could have been said about splitting up Red River rivals Texas and Oklahoma just a few years ago. 

The idea of powerful NCAA "Super Conferences" might make sense from a media perspective, and there's certainly something attractive about pitting Texas, Michican, USC and Florida against each other in football every year some day.  But if the NCAA isn't careful, it might let all of the conference squabbling destroy the traditional rivalries that make NCAA sports so popular, and profitable, in the first place.  Without its great rivalries, the NCAA is at risk of turning itself into just an inferior version of the NFL and NBA.

The Mets Have Given Up

Once September rolls around, it's not unusual for baseball teams to give up on the current season and start preparing for future ones, as teams out of the playoff race sit veterans in favor of rookies and try new, unorthodox lineups.   Every year, MLB's weaker teams use the September 1 roster expansion date to stock their starting lineups with unproven young players and begin to build for the future.  When I went to the New York Mets' Thursday afternoon doubleheader against the Atlanta Braves at Citi Field, I wasn't at all surprised to see the Mets feature a starting pitcher making his Major League debut; after all, the Mets are struggling this season and seem destined to struggle through 2012 as well. 

What was shocking, however, was the way that the team completely gave up on all aspects of the game presentation for Thursday afternoon's doubleheader, too.  Admittedly, the stadium was virtually empty when the first pitch of game one was thrown - check the picture below for view of the stands from the first inning.  Anticipating the sparse attendance, the Mets did the absolute bare minimum required to open Citi Field for the game.  Thursday's game is the closest I might ever get to seeing two Major League teams play at a minor league ballpark.

With so few in attendance, every ten fans had their own personal player to root for.

Only about one-third of the concession stands were open - most were closed up with metal doors pulled down over the windows.  When we finally did find an open concession stand and bought a hot dog, they didn't have any sauerkraut, which is inexcusable at a baseball game.  On top of it all, the Jumbotron wasn't working until the sixth inning of the first game, and it seemed as if the in-stadium camera operators didn't show up until after the midpoint of game one.  .

It's tough for casual fans to follow the game without a working Jumbotron.

I've never worked for a company that rented out a baseball stadium for some sort of corporate outing, but I imagine going to Thursday afternoon's Mets game was what it would be like.  Sure, the stadium is technically open, but no one is really watching the action on the field, buying anything from the concourses or watching the monitors in the outfield.  While the Mets and Braves played a game at Citi Field, the only part of the stadium in use was the actual, physical playing surface and a few hundred seats.  At this point in the year, I'm OK with the Mets giving up on winning (not shockingly, the Braves swept the doubleheader without much of a fight from the home team).  As a paying customer,* though, I expect a lot more from the Citi Field crew.

*NOTE: I bought tickets to the doubleheader on StubHub just hours before the game for $13 per ticket, including fees.  You'd have to be insane to pay anything near face value to watch a team that features Lucas Duda in the three hole.

Philadelphia Baseball, Gentrified

The last time I went to a Phillies game, I made the drive to Philadelphia to watch the Braves play at Veterans Stadium.  When the Phillies still played at "The Vet," a mixed-use facility that the team shared with the NFL's Eagles, going to a baseball game in Philadelphia was a scary proposition, especially for a fan of a visiting team.  I distinctly remember wearing my Braves gear in and around the stadium and having a series of insults - and sometimes objects - hurled at me from all directions.

What a difference a new stadium makes.  On Wednesday, I once again drove down to Philadelphia for a Phillies vs. Braves game, but this time in the relatively new Citizens Bank Park for the first time.  Citizens Bank is part of a giant sports complex that includes the Eagles' new stadium, Lincoln Financial Field, and the Wells Fargo Center, home of the Philadelphia 76ers and Flyers.  The three stadiums are all within easy walking distance of each other, and the parking lots for all three were open prior to the baseball game, making parking extremely simple.  The area outside all of the stadiums was beautifully landscaped, too.

The area outside of Citizens Bank Park makes the stadium feel very inviting.

Unlike other new stadiums that are all steel and concrete, the interior of Citizens Bank Park is almost entirely covered in red brick.  Not only does this make the stadium match many of the older, classic buildings in downtown Philly (including Independence Hall), but it also makes the park feel more expensive and classy than other similarly recent venues.  The concession signage had an old-school look-and-feel, too, and matched the Phillies banners and posters hanging from the rafters in the concourses.  While the playing surface at Citizens Bank is notoriously small, the entire field is surrounded by beautifully manicured lanscaping.  Overall, the stadium just felt like part of the city, and is a great place to spend a summer night.

The great view from our seats in the upper deck behind home plate.

More impressive than the park itself, though, is the way it has transformed the culture of Phillies baseball.  Not only were there tons of fans in the seats - back in the early 2000s, no one showed up for games at The Vet - but Citizens Bank Park is a family-friendly atmosphere.  The drunken Phillies faithful have likely been priced out (seats aren't cheap at Citizens Bank), instead replaced by families, young couples and businessmen.  In our section in the upper deck, we were surrounded by a nice elderly couple, a young couple with an infant, and a father and his son, none of whom gave me a hassle about my Braves jersey or taunted me when the Phillies won on a walkoff single in the ninth.

I had a great time at the game, despite the Braves loss, and was definitely impressed by the quality of the Phillies' new ballpark.  If there was a negative, though, I have to say that it was almost disappointing not to have been taunted more by the Phillies faithful.  On the way out to the parking lot I did receive a few playful jabs from Phillies fans, but nothing nearly as vicious as what I could have expected had the team still been playing at The Vet.  While it's always nice to go to a beautiful new ballpark, the stadium's high prices seem to have driven away the rough and rowdy Phillies diehards.

Close, But No Cigar for Duke Football

You know how sometimes a family has two children, one a star child and one a well-intentioned doofus?  Even though the weaker kid lags behind his superior sibling in every walk of life, the family continues to support both children equally.  That being said, the standards of excellence differ for the two kids; while the parents expect perfection from their accomplished offspring, the well-meaning-but-struggling child gets rewarded for merely putting forth a solid effort.

Why is this hypothetical anecdote relevant, you ask?  This Saturday I went to a Duke football game at Wallace Wade Stadium in Durham, with Duke football of course being the incompetent sibling to Duke basketball's star child.  While Duke sports fans expect nothing but excellence from their hoops teams (both mens and womens), standards for football are quite different.  Duke fans came out in droves for the football team's opening game at home versus Richmond (the 33,000-seat stadium was virtually sold out), but they weren't expecting much from their squad.  Even though Richmond is an FBS opponent, the ACC's Blue Devils were just looking for a respectable showing against the Spiders.

Unfortunately, they didn't get it.  While Duke tried to put on an impressive, major college football-like performance on opening night, the team fell short on all levels.  On the field, the Blue Devils were sloppy and inconsistent, and actually ended up losing when their kicker missed an easy field goal in the closing minutes.  Off the field, Duke football couldn't really put things together, either.  The team tried to pump up the crowd by surprising them with new, all black uniforms - unfortunately, the new duds were much uglier than their traditional blue and white unis.  They also didn't match - check the picture to the right, and you'll see that different players had different fonts on the numbers on the backs of their shirts (compare the "1" in "41" with those in "11" . . .).  The football team tried to rise to the occassion with sharp new black uniforms, and while the effort was appreciated by the crowd, the results were poor.  

As a venue, Wallace Wade Stadium was adequate, but only because Duke football lacks a ton of regular fan support.  The stadium resembled a large high school facility, and the track that circles the football field adds an extremely amateur feel to the venue.  I'm also not a huge fan of the stadium's horseshoe shape; while there's no way the team could justify adding the other multiple-thousand seats that would accompany a full bowl, the empty area behind one of the endzones allowed any would-be noise to escape.  Not exactly a very intimidating place for visitors to play, and it showed as Richmond seemed to control the Blue Devils from the opening snap.

Wallace Wade Stadium was sufficient, but not what you'd hope for out of an ACC stadium.

Despite the poor results on and off the field, the fans supported their team throughout the game.  It seemed like everyone in attendance was a Duke basketball fan, just there to support their university and root on any effort the football team could muster.  No one was expecting much, just like parents don't expect much from their inferior kids.  Even though Duke football dropped their first contest to an inferior opponent, the fans in attendance seemed reasonably happy that their squad remembered to show up for the game.