The New Ballgame: Understanding Baseball Statistics for the Casual Fan (3 page)

Both men were superstar outfielders, excelling at bat, on the bases, and
in the field. Both led their teams to several World Series. Both were considered the best players of their day-and, for many fans, the greatest players
ever. Both were elected to the Hall of Fame as soon as they were eligible,
with more votes than any other players being considered with them. So what
is the difference between Cobb's terse tribute-despite setting "more Major
League records than any other player"-and the detailed accounting of Mays'
magnificence? Cobb's plaque was crafted after he was elected with the first
Hall of Fame class in 1936. Mays' plaque was written in 1979.

In 1936, the most devoted adult baseball fans had seen Cobb and almost
every player in modern baseball. Since 1901 the major leagues were confined
to ten host cities no further west than St. Louis. The Hall of Fame electorate
knew Cobb was in an elite class because they had seen it with their own eyes.
His statistics were important, but secondary to what the voters knew about
Cobb's place in the history of the game.

By 1979, the men Mays was compared to were legends-known by
oral histories, written baseball "scripture," and grainy frames of film. Anyone
fifty years old in 1979 would not yet have been born when Cobb played his
last season, and would not have witnessed the play of other superstar outfielders, such as Tris Speaker, Joe Jackson, Ed Delahanty, Sam Crawford, Babe
Ruth and others. Most of all, these greats of the game were known in 1979 by
their major league statistics. To establish Mays' rightful place alongside them
in the Hall of Fame, his numbers had to stand up to theirs. That was the most
ready means of comparison.

With time, baseball has grown ever more dependent on its numbers.

It has now reached the point where it is nearly impossible to watch a game without a player's worth being measured by his statistics-those of the
current season and game, but also the trend over recent seasons and his career.
Statistics dominate ballpark scoreboards and the graphics that flash every inning of every televised game. Trivia questions, typically based on statistics,
accompany almost every game.

Statistics widen baseball's popularity. ESPN's SportsCenter and Baseball Tonight spend about as much time on statistics as they do on filmed
highlights. A growing number of fans (currently estimated at four million)
spend time each day in statistics-driven fantasy baseball leagues than frequently attend games. Preseason magazines devoted to fantasy baseball now
outnumber traditional spring annuals. Those publishers bold enough to offer
a "pure" preseason magazine (The Sporting News, among the very few) offer
a separate magazine exclusively targeting fantasy baseball players, while still
loading their traditional publication with stats. Statistics are the engines for
computer game and board game simulations like Strat-O-Matic. Competing
for bragging rights or money, fantasy leaguers and simulation garners scout
for the next superstars and gain insight about more ballplayers than they ever
would without their games. With the major leagues now in nearly three times
as many cities than in Ty Cobb's day, a fan who knows the talent on every
team is almost certainly a fantasy or simulation player.

It's fair to say that statistics have even saved baseball from its selfdestructive labor problems. When a late-season 1994 players strike had the
ultimate consequence-the World Series was canceled for the first time-bitter fans turned their backs on the game. Major League Baseball didn't fully recover until 1998, when Cardinals slugger Mark McGwire and Cubs power
hitter Sammy Sosa threatened, then overtook, the single-season home run
record that had gone unchallenged for thirty-seven years. McGwire and Sosa's thrilling home run derby invoked fans' memories of the great Yankee
slugging duos-Roger Maris and Mickey Mantle, Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig. Fans turned out in huge numbers hoping to see the statistical record fall.
When McGwire was the first to break Roger Maris' record of 61 home runs,
he earned a prominent place on Page One of hundreds of daily newspapers,
including The New York Times, where sports rarely earn front-page status. For
the record, McGwire ended that season with 70 homers; Sosa had 66.

The statistics pay off, too. Players who produce big numbers get big
paychecks. Teams competing for wins and economic prosperity employ fulltime analysts to determine which statistics are worth investing in. More than
ever, big-league general managers are younger and more statistically savvy.
Michael Lewis' 2003 book Moneyball, devoted to all of these trends, became
a bestseller and a household (well, a front office/locker room/dugout) name.

If this expanding landscape looks like a daunting adventure, we offer
some encouragement. The New Ballgame is organized to help you digest as
much or as little as you want and at your own pace. Use it to expand your
comfort zone at the ballpark, in front of your TV, or in office chatter. While
you might not be able to outdo the greatest baseball statistical minds like Bill
James, Rob Neyer or John Dewan, you will be able to hold your own in a
conversation about the numbers of baseball.

This way, the next time someone takes you out to the ballpark, you'll be
able to truly appreciate the new ballgame.

hese terms are used in casual conversation
among typical baseball fans. Most of these
terms will be used elsewhere in this book, so it's time
to make sure our language is understood.

NOTE: There are rare exceptions to some of the definitions described here.

Every time a player gets into the batter's box, he is at bat. But he doesn't get
credit for an official at-bat unless he gets a hit, makes an out, or reaches base
on an error (which should have been an out if the fielder had handled the play
effectively). When a player reaches base on a fielder's choice (which usually
results in a teammate being out) that also counts as an at-bat.

All official at-bats are plate appearances. So are the other results that don't
count as an official at-bat-mostly this happens when the batter walks, gets
hit by a pitch, makes a successful sacrifice bunt, or hits a sacrifice fly.

This is the most common expression of a player's hitting ability. It is computed by dividing the player's hits (singles, doubles, triples, and home runs)
by his at-bats (Hits/AB). This statistic is expressed as a three-digit decimal,
such as .265 or .300.

A mediocre average in most seasons is .260 to .270. A. 3 00 averagejust 3 hits for every 10 at-bats-is often enough to rank a player among the
top 20 batting averages in his league. A batting average of .330 to .360 is
usually necessary to win the league batting title. The last time any player hit
.400 or more in one season was in 1941, when Ted Williams hit .406 for the
Boston Red Sox in the American League. The last National League player to
hit.400 was Bill Terry, who hit.401 in 1930.

Batting average, however, measures only hits, not all the times a player
helps his team by getting on base, nor how far the batter advances on his hits.
Because of this, batting average is slowly, but steadily, giving way to its cousins-on base-average and slugging percentage.

Divide the total number of hits, all bases on balls, and hit by pitch by the total
number of at-bats, all bases on balls, hit by pitch, and sacrifice flies. This will
yield a number that is expressed like batting average, only it's higher: In a
year when the league batting average is .265, the OBP might be .335.

Individually, an on-base percentage of .400 is very good, but not rare.
An on-base percentage of .500 is supreme-the combination of a high batting average and an extraordinary number of walks. Babe Ruth eclipsed .500
five times. Ted Williams did it three times. Barry Bonds did it every year
from 2001 to 2004. And in 2004, when Bonds was walked intentionally an
unheard-of 120 times, for an equally unheard-of grand total of 232 walks, his
on-base percentage was a record .609.

On-base percentage is perhaps used most in conjunction with-or in
contrast to-batting average. For example, a speedy .270-hitting shortstop
who seldom walks may have an on-base percentage of barely more than.300.
His manager may be tempted to use him as a leadoff hitter, but with an onbase percentage far below the league norm, he isn't on base often enough to
take full advantage of that speed, or to set up enough run-scoring hits for the
powerful hitters behind him.

Aggressiveness at the plate has its virtue, but players with low on-base
averages make a lot of outs. Typically, they do so in the worst way-swinging
at pitches out of the strike zone. In turn, they get fewer good pitches to hit,
because opposing pitchers know that such a batter is not going to be selective
enough to demand one.

This is the sum of all bases achieved by a batter on his hits-and only his
hits. Singles count as one total base, doubles two, triples three, and home runs
four. We need this statistic to compute slugging percentage.

Total bases divided by at-bats (TB / AB). This statistic is expressed as a threedigit decimal (e.g. .450), just like BA and OBP. Slugging percentage describes
a hitter's power. An impressive full-season slugging percentage is .500 or
higher. A slugging percentage of .600 or more is exceptional. Once in a while
a batter will reach a .700 slugging percentage. This feat happens roughly every
three years and is achieved by the most legendary sluggers: Lou Gehrig, Ted
Williams, Mickey Mantle, Mark McGwire, and a dozen others. Only Babe
Ruth and Barry Bonds have had single-season slugging percentages higher
than.800.

This is steadily becoming the coin of the realm to determine a player's value
as a hitter. It adds on-base percentage and slugging percentage to produce a
new number expressed with a decimal.

First basemen and slugging corner outfielders often reach a .900 OPS
(with a.360 OBP and a.540 SLG, for instance). An.800 OPS is a solid mark
for a catcher or middle infielder.

It is possible to exceed a 1.000 ("one thousand") OPS. Barry Bonds,
Todd Helton, Manny Ramirez and Frank Thomas have done so repeatedly.
Therefore, OPS also can be expressed without the decimal - as 1025, for
instance, or 921, or 776.

The most serious statistics analysts multiply OPS by slugging, rather
than adding them. But the much simpler addition produces a number accurate
enough for most stat-minded fans.

The player who crosses home plate before the third out of an inning scores a
run. The player whose batted ball causes the run to score gets credit for a run
batted in. The batter does not get credit for an RBI if his batted ball results in
an error that causes the run to score, nor if the batter hits into a double play. A
batter can get credit for a run batted in without swinging the bat at all-if he
walks or is hit by a pitch when the bases were loaded, which forces the man
on third to home with a run. No run batted in is credited if the run scores on a
wild pitch, passed ball, or balk.