The more you walk, the more you toot
I finally got around to reading Moneyball during my travels, and I’m pretty torn as to how I feel about Billy Beane’s system and the whole stats-driven way of evaluating players.

On one hand, it’s cool and somewhat intriguing to see a team actually put stock in positive college/minor league stats. I’d always go nuts during the NFL Draft when top college players who put up big numbers get ignored, sometimes seemingly for having the stats as if the numbers were inflated to make up for deficiencies the scouts saw. (Although I sometimes think scouts also want to show off their relevance by digging up the diamonds in the rough from small colleges or combine freaks.)

During both the NFL and NBA Drafts, there’s always that inclination to draft “athletes” instead of “football players” or “basketball players.” So, in that sense, putting stock in stat-producing “ball players” is refreshing. Besides, there is a fair share of players notable for not looking like athletes (Babe Ruth, John Kruk, Tony Gwynn in later days).

I also enjoyed Lewis’ player stories, which helped to illustrate how the A’s scouting differed from most of the rest of the league. There are plenty of success stories, that’s for sure, and honestly, it’s the best way to illustrate some of the more arcane statistical arguments at work.

It’s definitely needed, because one thing I’ve come away from reading the book is that I don’t think I’m “worthy” enough to watch or write about baseball anymore. Many athletic types have always said you can't really appreciate a sport if you've never played it. But now the stats people say the numbers they've come up with are gospel and if you follow anything else (especially those from the "establishment"), you're a fool.

The old-school baseball guys have their own ways of evaluating players and approaching the game. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But for the most part, it comes from a love of the game, how it’s played, etc. Yes, they’re stubborn, and it’s an attitude fostered after years of being the lead dog because of their athletic ability.

On the other hand, the growing population of stat-intensive baseball fans/decision makers seem to have taken the fun out of the game. It’s hard to say these days, “It’s just a game,” but in this case it’s true. There’s too much money at stake, so it only makes sense that some would approach it with the same cold, calculating but thoughtful intensity of mathematicians, economists, financiers, etc. It’s somewhat odd to think that Billy Beane would rather watch games on his pager instead of on the field, but when given all he’s gone through, he’s seen the sausage factory and he’d rather not go back.

People like Bill James and his followers definitely have broken some amazing ground on statistical analysis, and it obviously takes a bright mind and passion for baseball to do what they do. We all have our questions about stats (I’ve always wondered why errors on a linescore, for instance), and they’ve taken it to a new level.

However, there’s also an arrogance among many of the disciples that what they’re doing is right and everybody else – the old-school establishment, the media, the fans – is stupid. It’s like an ivory tower approach to baseball. Unfortunately, you can see that Beane has picked up the same attitude. In an odd way, it’s like the battle between the nerds and the jocks, and Beane has crossed over to the nerd side (maybe we should call him Ogre).

The A’s approach as a whole season as opposed to a game-by-game basis is different, but it makes sense and helps to bring sample size and more statistically significant matters into the equation. Unfortunately, this calculating approach has little value when it comes to short playoff series. That's the one glaring hole in the whole approach -- not everything will even out in a short period of time, and things considered anecdotal like luck can actually wreak havoc with the results. Sometimes I wonder if all of those computer simulations of the World Series that used to be a popular staple of coverage in the ‘80s would suit the stat-types better?

Like anything else, Beane’s approach is just one way to look at and run the team. Unfortunately, Lewis got a bit too indoctrinated into the system and in the last few chapters, you can see him sort of acting like an A’s lapdog. If it weren’t for the success stories of underdogs like Jeremy Brown, Chad Bradford or Scott Hatteberg, Oakland comes across as the low-priced version of the Yankees -- nyeah, nyeah, we win because we’re better than you and there’s nothing you can do about it.