Mixed Messages Inhibit Soccer’s Growth In America

It took over two years, but once this post goes up, Fan Interference will no longer call you crazy if you type “soccer” into the search bar to your right. This long-standing void is not a coincidence; I know little about soccer players, teams, and leagues, and even less about soccer tactics. I watch all the major international tournaments as well as some prominent league play, but this does not qualify me to write about the game with the same sort of confidence that I bring to my discussion of basketball, baseball, and (American) football. My distance from the game does, however, afford me a fair amount of objectivity when I observe its coverage. With that in mind, yesterday’s coverage of the Confederations Cup final between the United States and Brazil was disconcerting because of its failure to provide a consistent context. The broadcasters presented conflicting messages to the viewer by subtly but significantly changing the narrative of the match. The result, at least for me, was both confusion about the game’s importance and frustration with its duplicitous framing.

The first half’s narrative was understandable considering the events that had unfolded. Shockingly, the United States scored two goals within the first 30 minutes, leading the fifth-ranked Brazilians 2-0 entering halftime. Play-by-play man J.P. Dellacamera and – more persistently – color-commentator John Harkes lauded the Americans for their aggressive play, feisty temperament, and opportunistic scoring. Throughout the half, both broadcasters (again, Harkes more persistently) latched on to a classic narrative: the ascent of the underdog to a genuine force. According to them, this display was the culmination of years of maturation. The gap had closed significantly, if not completely. The United States could play with anyone in the world, and soccer would receive its long-awaited domestic boost.

Or maybe we just made the Brazilians mad.

One minute into the second half, Brazil scored. Twenty-seven minutes later, they added another and tied the game. Ten minutes after that, they scored their third goal of the second half and established the game’s final score: 3-2. The change in the broadcast booth was as stark as the change in play on the field. Proclamations of competitive equality were replaced with defeated admissions of Brazil’s excellence. The United States’ determination, skill, and toughness were apparently transient qualities, present only when the scoreboard favored the Americans. Now trailing, the Americans were simply outmatched by the supremely talented Brazilians. We never stood a chance anyway; the talent gap is too big. But that’s okay, it’s still an important step for soccer in the United States. We can lose to Brazil by one! It’s a maturation process.

At the end of the match, both broadcasters steadfastly assured the audience that this was an encouraging part of the United States’ development into a soccer power. They claimed that the team would learn from this difficult loss, making them more likely to secure victories in the future. I disagree. I would instead argue that realizing that the United States relinquished a sizable lead in a winnable game – and getting irritated about it – would do more for soccer’s domestic progression than any tired declarations of moral victory. Doomed by sloppy passes, ill-advised forays into the opposing defense, and a total inability to maintain possession of the ball, the Americans simply failed to maintain their significant advantage. A top twenty team should be able to yield at least a tie from a 2-0 lead at the half, talent gap be damned. Admitting the team’s failure to capitalize on a tremendous opportunity would be a drastic and effective change from taking more solace in yet another “important step for American soccer.”

I can’t help but wonder if the changing in-game commentary reveals something about why soccer has been so slow to catch on in the United States. Certainly, other major sports have footholds here and will never be usurped in popularity. But the conflicting narrative is symptomatic of American front-running when it comes to its soccer. When things are good, and we are leading a strong opponent, the oft-cited talent gap has closed, it’s our time to shine, and we cheer loudly. When things are bad, and we snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, we pat ourselves on the back for a good effort and say we never had a chance anyway. We rationalize our futility by rejecting this particular sport as unworthy of serious effort and commitment, but demand praise when we excel within its confines. Perhaps if we got a little more upset about such crushing losses, we could improve the quality of the sport with some permanence. Even for a novice soccer fan, it’s unbecoming and disappointing to see us deem something unimportant solely because we’re not good at it.

Terrence Williams Overcomes Off-Court Problems, Is Picked #11 Overall

Looks like those pesky off-court problems didn’t hurt his stock too much. I am also heartened – somewhat selfishly, I must admit – by Basketball Prospectus’ reaction to Williams’ selection:

Kevin Pelton: “So much for those character concerns.”

Anthony Macri: “Good for T-Will.”

Bradford Doolittle: “I like how because Williams has a distinctive personality he’s constantly referred to as a ‘head case’.”

Curiously, Chad Ford now characterizes Williams’ personality as “eccentric,” which is notably less ominous than previous descriptions. In any case, congratulations to Mr. Williams, who shall remain a favorite of Fan Interference even though he is now a member of the New Jersey Nets.

ESPN’s Adoption Of OPS Deserves Commendation

A quick perusal of Fan Interference’s archives will reveal that I have been quite hard on ESPN for the last two years. One reason for this is the network’s ubiquity; it is everywhere, creating a shortage of other targets for my criticism. Another is its tendency to employ shoddy analysts that produce equally lousy insight, all while maintaining a misguided sense of entitlement. I do not begrudge ESPN for its enormous success, just for its general inability or unwillingness to be a pioneer in sports coverage in a meaningful way.

Recently, however, ESPN has made a small change that has challenged my near-instinctive distaste for the network’s products. The powers that be decided to start including the statistic OPS in the network’s baseball telecasts. Traditionally, graphical overlays have shown an individual player’s batting average (yuck), home runs (excellent), and RBI (gag). Now, it would appear that ESPN is attempting to make OPS an accepted part of our general sports lexicon by adding it to the preceding three statistics.

Having battled every urge to condemn this change as unacceptably tardy, I have decided that I admire the decision-makers for making this adjustment. Taking risks to affect change in the face of overwhelming cultural opposition is a bold act. This is especially true when that cultural opposition is the baseball community, which is not exactly known for its willingness to embrace new ideas. Those responsible for this change must have known that a sizable amount of their audience would look at this new statistic with confusion at best and indignation at worst. But they also probably wagered that there are people out there like me, or, more realistically, people who are comfortable with evaluating information that might conflict with their usual way of thinking. I give the network tremendous credit and my genuine appreciation for taking such a risk.

There are certainly problems with the way ESPN is using OPS, and even problems within the statistic itself. In the former case, the network shows the player’s OPS relative to his league’s average figure. For example, tonight’s Brewers-Indians telecast compared Asdrubal Cabrera’s OPS of .802 to the American League’s average of .759. The unfamiliar viewer could understandably look at this figures and conclude that Cabrera is a slightly above-average hitter, when in fact his OPS is quite good for a middle infielder. This lack of context is a fairly glaring weakness in the network’s admirable use of the statistic. Ideally, the production team would compare the player’s OPS to those of his positional peers. This easy change would impart some valuable context and, consequently, useful information to the audience.

With a little more thought, ESPN could have implemented this change more meaningfully. That should not, however, detract too much from the network’s bold effort to adapt to the changing sports landscape. The reason for this effort matters very little to me. What matters is that they’re trying, and really, what more can you ask of someone?

Two Bullpen-Related Notes From Tonight’s Rays-Yankees Game

In an attempt to distract myself from Joe Girardi’s perplexing decision to remove Phil Hughes in favor of Phil Coke, I would like to share two bullpen-related thoughts gleaned from this game. Because, let’s be honest, I just don’t write enough about bullpens.

Yankees’ broadcasters Michael Kay and David Cone have spent much of the night criticizing the Rays’ bullpen for systemic ineptitude. Kay in particular has continually referred to the lack of clear-cut roles given to Rays relievers, citing their general ineffectiveness as preventing such a delegation. Because there is no “7th inning guy” or “8th inning guy” – as Kay phrases it – manager Joe Maddon’s job is made much more difficult.

I have two problems with this, the first of which is factual. Despite their purported maladies, the Rays’ bullpen hasn’t been bad so far. Its 4.14 ERA ranks 14th in baseball. Opponents have posted a .322 OBP and .396 SLG against Rays relievers, ranking 7th and 19th, respectively. Their 1.84 K/BB ranks 14th. These numbers all reveal an average bullpen – not one deserving of incessant criticism. Perhaps this seems like nitpicking, but I found Kay and Cone’s comments a little disingenuous, especially when they’ve also been praising the Yankees’ poor bullpen for its flexibility and dynamism. Yes, that Yankees bullpen.

My second quarrel is more philosophical. Mainstream analysts are of the uniform opinion that not having clearly defined roles for relievers significantly hinders a team. We are told that not having that “7th inning guy” or “8th inning guy” makes a manager’s life miserable, necessitating the painstaking “piecing together” of a game’s final 9-12 outs. The implication is that clearly defined relief roles – thereby enabling push-button management – allows for the more effective deployment of relievers and a better chance of winning baseball games.

I disagree with this implication. Too often, managers create static roles for their relievers as a means of avoiding criticism. For example, if Team A is up 4-3 in the 8th inning, that team will deploy its “8th inning guy” to protect the slim lead. If the reliever relinquishes the advantage, the manager faces little questioning because, well, he used his “8th inning guy” in the 8th inning. This rigid assignment of roles does more to protect a manager from criticism than it does to win games. It’s unimaginative, lazy, and timid management. Alternatively, it seems likely to me that “piecing together” the final outs of a game can present tactically advantageous opportunities – if the manager is willing to put in the work. I hope that a manager will take that risk some day soon.

John Sterling Knows Not Of Your Fancy “World War II”

Far more successful blogs than this one have beaten me to the punch, but I will share this with you anyway. The Yankees’ Hideki Matsui hit a home run in last night’s game against the Texas Rangers, prompting the insufferable ubiquitous John Sterling to make thousands of historically aware people cringe with this call:

No, I don’t understand the accompanying imagery either.

Mike Francesa & Chad Ford Again Avoid Accountability

One of my most endearing characteristics is my total willingness to latch on to an assessment that I think is erroneous or unfounded and doggedly attempt to disprove it, even if it means jeopardizing my friends’ desire to discuss sports with me. Perhaps you have noticed this trait in perusing this blog. If so, you and my friends will have something to talk about should your paths ever cross. Anyway, since I take a somewhat masochistic pleasure in being insatiably cranky, you can imagine my excitement for the simultaneous events of one o’clock this afternoon: Mike Francesa’s radio show and Chad Ford’s chat. Two of my favorite vignettes – Francesa’s Joba-to-the-bullpen meme and Ford’s curious aspersions against Terrence Williams – were about to develop further.

As of 3:03 PM, Francesa has predictably engaged in nothing but the relentless application of qualifiers to Joba’s recent performance. His caveats vary in type but are uniform in stupidity:

• Joba pitched “okay,” but not “great” last night. Of course, he said this minutes after proclaiming Jeremy Sowers’ 5 IP, 3 H, 1 ER, 5 BB, 3 K performance “good.” 
• This “okay” pitching performance came against the Cleveland Indians, a “last place team” (true) that “can’t hit” (false). 
• Joba has pitched better as a reliever than as a starting pitcher. Other pitchers that would have lower ERAs as a reliever include: CC Sabathia, Johan Santana, Tim Lincecum, and every other good starting pitcher. 
• Jorge Posada thinks Joba should be a reliever, and because Posada has won World Series before, he knows what he’s talking about. Unfortunately for Francesa, Posada admitted he was wrong seven months later and – as far as we know – believes Joba should be a starter. 
• Joba has to have “six or seven straight eight-inning performances” to justify the Yankees’ choice. As far as I can tell, the last pitcher to have done this was Roy Halladay from August 14th-September 10th, 2007. So, the developing, 23-year-old Chamberlain must do something that only arguably the best pitcher in baseball did two years ago for the decision to be a good one. That makes sense.

Ford’s chat was equally disappointing, to whatever extent the realization of a totally expected outcome can be labeled as such. Once again, I asked him to elaborate specifically on Terrence Williams’ off-court problems. This time, however, I asked quite firmly and without the self-deprecating “maybe I missed something” (that’ll show him!) My question was ignored. 

Like a jilted lover, I ran to Basketball Prospectus’ Kevin Pelton, who was holding a chat of his own. Beleaguered and defeated, I asked Pelton a version of the same question I’ve been asking Ford for weeks. I was pleasantly surprised when Pelton chose to respond:

Kevin (New York, NY): I keep seeing certain draft experts citing Terrence Williams’ off-court issues as a major reason for GMs avoiding him on draft day. Do you have any idea what these issues are? I can’t think of a damn thing.

Kevin Pelton (Basketball): No clue. He’s both a Seattle guy and apparently following me on Twitter (@kpelton), so I’m totally positive on Williams.

Unless Ford has an incredibly low tolerance for what constitutes off-court problems and believes Twitter usage warrants public consternation, Terrence Williams’ off-court problems remain a mystery even to Ford’s peers. Really, at this point, I can report no change in my feelings towards Ford and his apparent disregard for his journalistic obligations. It’s just a shame that Williams’ name is being dragged through the mud – however subtly – while his accuser exercises complete control over the process by which the public can hold him accountable for his reporting. 

Joba Makes Diving Catch, Media Calls For His Transition To Late-Inning Defensive Substitute

Just kidding. But wow, what a catch:

Great game for Joba: 8 IP, 4 H, 2 ER, 2 BB, 5 K, and 15 groundouts against a very good offense. Not only did he pitch the pivotal 8th inning, but he got through the previous and less important seven as well. I will be listening to Mike Francesa with great interest this afternoon.