Apologies in advance for the absolutely terrible/fantastic title.
The winner of the 2009 contest for the Best Visual Illusion of 2009 is particularly appropriate tonight as the Yankees strive to hand the Phillies their second championship in as many years. The prize was won by a team that has identified the core difficulty in hitting a curveball: it’s not where you think it is.
The illusion arises because the seams on the ball spin sideways when a curveball is thrown. When the ball is seen in the batter’s peripheral vision, the brain infers from the sideways motion of the seams that the ball itself is traveling sideways, even if it is not. Conversely, when the ball is seen by the batter’s central vision system, the sideways visual cue is ignored, presumably because the image of the ball itself on the retina is more a more convincing indicator of it’s position.
Critically, not only does the ball appear to drift when viewed by the peripheral system, but when it transitions from central to peripheral vision it appears to jump from one position to another! So the combined effect is: the ball is physically curving through space AND when it reaches the peripheral vision system it is perceived to jump from one position to another AND while in the peripheral system it appears to drift sideways in addition to its actual curve.
The authors argue that this explains the phenomenon of curveballs “breaking” suddenly. A curveball which hangs – that is, one that doesn’t break – likely isn’t spinning at the right speed to set off the illusion.
But don’t take my word for it: try the illusion out for yourself.
(via Newsweek)
The Times has an article about the Mets Fan’s Dilemma: who to root for in this year’s World Series?
[T]he misery of this uninspired season has been unexpectedly heightened by the indignity of watching their most despised division rival face off against their despised crosstown rival in the World Series
For me, the question is simple: I’ve never rooted for the Yankees and I’m not about to start now. On the other hand, I can remember cheering on the Phillies when they were playing Atlanta (though it’s funny how that has reversed). For all this talk of division rivalry, the Phillies are hardly the reason the Mets haven’t been playing any meaningful baseball lately – the sad truth is that the Mets are their own worst division rival, three years running.
Wikipedia is an incredible resource, but every now and then it gives me pause. Consider the first two sentences about the seventh-inning stretch:
The seventh-inning stretch is a tradition in baseball that takes place between the halves of the seventh inning of any game. Fans generally stand up and stretch out their arms, legs, necks, backs, calves, fingers, elbows, and other muscles and sometimes walk around.
Is the whole list really necessary?
The Mets just can’t catch a break:
On a day when Mets starter Oliver Perez allowed six runs in the first inning, the Mets were in a position to win in the ninth with one swing of the bat, only to be thwarted by one of the rarest plays in baseball.
Eric Bruntlett pulled off an unassisted triple play in the ninth inning, the 15th in major league history and just the second to end a game.
Unfortunately, despite having one of the most advanced online presences among professional sports leagues, MLB’s media lockdown (no rebroadcasting without “expressed written consent”) means I have to send you here to see the play in action.
Seven years ago, the Mets were among the first teams in MLB to adopt a tiered pricing system in which it costs more to see a game against a good opponent than a bad one. At the time, it was the most sophisticated such plan in baseball. Others included simple methods like charging more for weekend games or prime summer games.
The act was a major step toward recognizing that while the supply of tickets was more or less constant for every game, demand could vary wildly. Nonetheless, ticket prices were still set for every game before the season started, and were locked in no matter how attrative (or otherwise) the game ultimately appeared. Rain, cold, chances to see historial achievements, unexpected opponent records (good or bad) – all of these affect demand in ways which can not be anticipated in March.
Now, the Giants have announced a new initiative which will adjust ticket prices up until the first pitch. A software program will estimate demand based on dynamic variables and adjust ticket prices according. The factors include both teams’ records, the stats of individual players (including the starting pitchers), the weather, the number of seats left to sell, proximity to gametime, promotional nights, and other similar metrics. Fans showing up on a rainy weekday night just before the game might be able to snag tickets for $5 that were $30 the week before.
It is likely that the model is not nearly as complex as one might think – in fact I imagine this is a perfect example of a time when a simple model can account for a surprising amount of variance. Not that this approach is revolutionary outside MLB – airlines and hotels have been doing something similar for years – but I think its an exciting and approrpriate use of data and would not be surprised if next season the metric is rolled out in a more expansive manner.
To think it was just a decade ago that the concept of statisticians on the field was inconceivable (but taken for granted today) – and now we have teams employing econometric methods to estimate demand. Quelle journee!
I really enjoyed a new post from Rortybomb that includes a great distillation of the mark to market debate:
So in the early 1990s, when I was in Junior High, there was a craze about collecting and trading baseball cards. Our classroom would have a corner during lunch where we’d all compare, with our binders and those 3×3 plastic containers for cards, who had what, and we’d trade back and forth accordingly. And of course we had our model, The Model, in fact, the Black-Scholes of our trading.
So while other kids were mowing lawns or delivering newspapers, I decided I was going to make my profit by arbitraging the volatile Frank Thomas rookie card market. I took a highly leveraged position in the Upper Deck Frank Thomas rookie card – I borrowed against future allowances, and bought several cards for $7 each from a kid who wanted to get out of collecting baseball cards in order to try hanging out with girls (loser!). Upper Deck is like the AAA of baseball cards. The guide said that these cards were worth $9. Buy at $7, sell at $9, instant money. My dad took me to the convention center, and I was all ready to make some cash money, when I found out that all the tables were only buying them for $5. Sensing my frustration (and also perhaps worried, since, like the FDIC or those with a savings account, he was providing all the leverage for me), he asked me, “wait, what are those cards worth again?”
I answered that they are worth $9. That’s what the guide, my model, says they are worth. No doubt those guide values are created by the most brilliant minds available. My dad, not in business or finance, was very clear in trying to explain to me “no son, they are only worth what someone is willing to pay you for them.” I responded that this card convention center was completely wrong in how they were valuing my baseball cards. I was but a little financial engineer back then; now I would have know to say “Dad, clearly the Soxs are having a bad season, and/or this isn’t the time in the year-long sporting cycle when demand is reasonable for baseball cards. I don’t feel I should get punished for the normal ups-and-downs of the baseball cycle.” I may have also noted that the flood of crap Fleer-brand baseball cards, the Mortgage Backed Security of its day, was destroying liquidity in the market, but that I had the trust of then Treasury Secretary Brady to start buying up those crappy baseball cards and get them transferred onto the government’s balance sheet.
So who was right? Me, with the model of the Baseball Collectors Guide and the excuse of the business cycle, at $9? Or my dad, who says they are worth whatever somone is willing to pay you in an open market, at $5? How you answer that question should color how you are disposed to to marking assets to the model, versus marking them to the market. Mind you, this was not just an academic exercise – at $5, my dad realizes I’ve made some terrible calls, and is probably going to make me start mowing lawns until I can pay him back. If I could convince him they were worth $9, I would not have to mow lawns (which I sincerely did not want to do) but instead could probably borrow some more…
Joe Morgan made the following statement on ESPN tonight:
The NL West is the only division that hasn’t won the World Series in the past seven years. Now, that’s amazing.
Except, as my brother points out (drawing on his years of accumulated baseball wisdom), there are six divisions.
Start with the assumption that each division is equally skilled, and winners are determined purely by chance. In this scenario, each division is expected to win 1.167 World Series (7/6), which in real terms translates into one division winning the Series twice and the other five divisions each winning once.
But let’s gets more specific. If each division is equally likely to win, then what is the probability that one division has no wins in seven years? The probability of any division winning in a single year is 1/6, which means the probability of any division losing in a single year is 5/6. The probability of losing for seven years is 
which equals 27.9%. So, even if every division were equally matched, the chance that one division would have no championships in 7 years is almost one in three.
You might argue this this ignores the wild card! Each division has an extra chance to make the playoffs – so there are 8 teams competing for the title, two divisions in opposing leagues having sent two teams each. But if each division is equally matched, then the wild card is not an advantage unique to any division, and so it does not affect the probability of any individual division winning ex ante. Of course, once it is known whether a division holds the wild card spot (and consequently is sending two teams to the playoffs), then the advantage turns to that division. There have been enough wild card World Series winners (though the total sample is small since the format was introduced) that the effect – conditional on winning the wild card, which is not part of this question – is certainly non-negligible.
We can be more advanced, however, in dealing with the wild card situation. Each division has a different number of teams, so assuming that each division is equally skilled is not the same as assuming each team is equally skilled. If each team is equivalent, the NL West sends one team to the playoffs by definition and has a 4/13 chance of additionally sending a wild card team. 4/13 arises from there being 16 teams in the NL and 5 teams in the NL West. The wild card is fought for among teams that don’t win the division, which implies 4 teams from the NL West out of a total of 13 non-winners.
Once an evenly-matched team makes the playoffs, their probability of winning the World Series is 
or 12.5% (3 rounds, 50% of winning each one). The NL West has two ways to make the playoffs: a division winner with probability 1 and a wild card team with probability 4/13. Thus, the combined probability of the NL West winning the World Series is 
or about 16.3%.
This is slightly less than the naive probability of 1/6, or 16.67%, calculated above because the NL West has one less team than the NL Central, which puts it (and the similarly-numbered NL East) at a slight disadvantage in the Wild Card. We can continue as before, using the formula 
, which yields a 28.7% chance of the NL West not winning a single World Series in 7 years. As expected, the number is slightly higher than the 27.9% calculated earlier, but the interpretation is the same: if every team is equally likely to beat every other team, there is almost a 1 in 3 chance the NL West won’t win a championship in 7 years.
And it’s not for a lack of trying – an NL West team has actually been in the World Series twice in the last 7 years – and that’s right in line with what you’d expect, given 7 berths available to 3 divisions. That they haven’t won either time, however, is just a 1 in 4 event.
But Tampa Bay making the World Series? Now, that’s amazing.
And now the coverage comes rolling in; the Times weighs in with their bit, the Journal has a somewhat sappy goodbye, and Newday finally has something worth linking to.
Choice quotes:
Hints at his HoF choice (NYT)?
“I have to say that my time with the Mets wouldn’t have been the same without the greatest fans in the world,” Piazza said in his statement. “One of the hardest moments of my career was walking off the field at Shea Stadium and saying goodbye. My relationship with you made my time in New York the happiest of my career, and for that, I will always be grateful.”
Why everyone loved him (WSJ)?
But that awkwardness was endearing — it made Mr. Piazza an approachable icon. He always seemed tickled that his sports celebrity let him consort with the musicians he idolized, and watching him try out his metal moves in onstage cameos was like seeing yourself air-guitaring in your room when you think no one’s watching. He had a goofy weakness for terrible hair ideas — after one horrifying summertime loss to the Cubs, he cut his hair short and had it dyed platinum, prompting a huge cheer from Wrigley Field the next day when he shed his helmet chasing an errant ball. Once, he wound up holding the ball after being hit by a pitch and disdainfully tossed it aside. “Did it look cool?” he eagerly asked reporters. (It did.)
And more (Newsday):
Starting on May 22, 1998, when he was acquired in that huge trade with the Marlins, Piazza did what almost no one else could have done. And it’s not just that he hit better and more powerfully than any catcher we’ve ever seen (granted, most of us never saw Josh Gibson). He did something bigger than that. He made the Mets matter when the Yankees owned New York and the rest of the baseball world.
Piazza is finally hanging up his jersey. Now the only question is whether the one he wears into the hall of fame will say Mets on it…