Disclaimer: this post talks about economics, statistics, and football. If you are a curmudgeonly old man who thinks statistics have no place in sports, and are scared of phrases like "expected points value," don't read any further. Just go back to calling David Eckstein the best player in baseball and listening to Joe Morgan make fun of Moneyball.
Tonight, December 1, 2007, the top two college teams in the country are playing football. Missouri is number 1 (I don't mean this like their cheerleaders mean it. I only mean they are ranked number 1). West Virginia is number 2. Remarkably, they both had the same situation early in the game. Both had fourth down and goal to go from the two yard line. Both kicked field goals. Both did the wrong things, at least if you think scoring more points than your opponent is the right thing to do in football.
Here is an article by an economics professor at Berkely (or, as it's known in the college football game, Cal): http://www.econ.berkeley.edu/users/dromer/papers/PAPER_NFL_JULY05_FORWEB_CORRECTED.pdf
The article contains statistics showing that football teams going for it on fourth and goal from the two score a touchdown about sixty-four percent of the time (the figure in on page 16). That means, on average, the expected point value of going for it is 4.46 points, since they will get seven points if they score a touchdown, and 64 percent times seven is 4.46. If they go for the field goal, they have a nearly 100 percent chance of scoring three points, so three is their expected points value. 4.46 is more than three.
But the case for going for it gets more attractive. If you go for it and fail, your opponents will take the ball at the two yard line. If a team starts a drive at the two yard line, they average scoring -0.2 points (because of the possibility of a safety). If you kick a field goal and make it, the other team will take the ball over at around the twenty-five yard line. Teams score an average of 1.86 points from the twenty-five yard line. So the real expected value of going for it is 4.66 points--4.46 plus -0.2--and kicking the field goal drops to 1.14--three minus 1.86.
This guy gives plenty of reasons why coaches usually kick it in the situation Missouri and West Virginia found themselves. But the biggest one has to be this: coaches always go for it in that situation. Commentators call it "a smart play" to take the points you know you will get, and call it "rolling the dice" for taking a sixty-four percent chance of scoring seven points, and a far worse situation for your opponent even if you fail. Fans--even smart fans--usually don't think about these percentages. So if no one is going to call you out on making a far worse call, and they will hassle you for making the far better call, you go for the far worse call.
And, as of this writing, Missouri is losing by eight, and West Virginia only leads 4-7 Pitt by four.
--Paul
Update: Both teams lost; Missouri by a lot, West Virginia by less than a touchdown.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
I guess Kirk gets frustrated easily
Watching ESPN can be frustrating sometimes. They hire terrible commentators like Skip Bayless, John Kruk, and Lou Holtz. Their NBA shoot-around--to which they dedicate a half an hour, three times a week--features Steven A. Smith and Bill Walton.
That said, Kirk Herbstreit is great. He co-hosts College Gameday with Lee Corso (who knows nothing about college football, but who dresses up like the mascot of the team he likes to win the big game of the week.) The show airs once a week, on Saturday mornings, and reviews and previews college football. Kirk is generally well prepared and knowledgable about the subject he gets paid to be knowledgeable about: college football.
But this morning, gameday decided to veer from the game of football, and instead to talk about race; specifically race in college football coaching. The conversation went about how you'd expect. All lamented about how few black men hold the title of head coach for division I football teams. All said we should do more to fix the problem. So far, I had about the same reaction I have when Barbara Streisand endorsed Hillary Clinton. "That's great, but I pay you to sing/discuss football. Your opinion on the subject carries as much weight as do my thoughts on gardening."
Then Kirk said this: "It's not just the head coaches. There are 240 offensive and defensive coordinators [the second rung on the coaching ladder] in division I football. Of those, only 28 are black. That's whats so frustrating to me."
First, kudos on actually giving statistics, Kirk. Most discussions of race and how little progress we've made go like this:
Person: "We have made little progress on race."
Me: "Really? Richard Parsons heads the largest entertainment company in the world. Barak Obama leads polls in Iowa. Billy Martin is, if not the best private lawyer in America, at least in the top ten. They are all black. It seems to me making progress must mean seeing racial minorities in top positions in business, law, and politics."
Person: "You are a racist."
But here is the problem with what Kirk said. 28 of 240 is 11.6 percent. According to the U.S. census, African-Americans make up 13.3 percent of America's population. That is under-representation of 1.7 percent. Or, as the economists call it, statistically insignificant. Is this really enough of an under-representation to make Kirk frustrated? To be fair, I started this post by saying I get frustrated because a sports station sometimes put people on the air I don't like. But I get frustrated easily. I guess Kirk does too.
That said, Kirk Herbstreit is great. He co-hosts College Gameday with Lee Corso (who knows nothing about college football, but who dresses up like the mascot of the team he likes to win the big game of the week.) The show airs once a week, on Saturday mornings, and reviews and previews college football. Kirk is generally well prepared and knowledgable about the subject he gets paid to be knowledgeable about: college football.
But this morning, gameday decided to veer from the game of football, and instead to talk about race; specifically race in college football coaching. The conversation went about how you'd expect. All lamented about how few black men hold the title of head coach for division I football teams. All said we should do more to fix the problem. So far, I had about the same reaction I have when Barbara Streisand endorsed Hillary Clinton. "That's great, but I pay you to sing/discuss football. Your opinion on the subject carries as much weight as do my thoughts on gardening."
Then Kirk said this: "It's not just the head coaches. There are 240 offensive and defensive coordinators [the second rung on the coaching ladder] in division I football. Of those, only 28 are black. That's whats so frustrating to me."
First, kudos on actually giving statistics, Kirk. Most discussions of race and how little progress we've made go like this:
Person: "We have made little progress on race."
Me: "Really? Richard Parsons heads the largest entertainment company in the world. Barak Obama leads polls in Iowa. Billy Martin is, if not the best private lawyer in America, at least in the top ten. They are all black. It seems to me making progress must mean seeing racial minorities in top positions in business, law, and politics."
Person: "You are a racist."
But here is the problem with what Kirk said. 28 of 240 is 11.6 percent. According to the U.S. census, African-Americans make up 13.3 percent of America's population. That is under-representation of 1.7 percent. Or, as the economists call it, statistically insignificant. Is this really enough of an under-representation to make Kirk frustrated? To be fair, I started this post by saying I get frustrated because a sports station sometimes put people on the air I don't like. But I get frustrated easily. I guess Kirk does too.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Yankees fan press conference
The following is a transcript from the press release held by Yankee's fans spokesman, John Simpson, from South Bronx:
Reporter 1: John, what you think about Alex Rodriguez?
John: He's the best. He's hit a homer in each of his last five games, two of which were walk-off. Best player in the game.
Reporter 1: If I can ask a follow-up, though. Last year, in September, you said "A-Rod is a f****** jack a** who's not even good enough to s*** Derek Jeter's d***."
John: I stand by those comments. We Yankee's fans don't have the sense, understanding, or basic thinking skills to understand that player's play in peaks and valleys. Our long-term memory can only best be described as being slightly better than that guy in Memento.
Reporter 2: With your entire pitching staff injured, how do you think the team is going to fare?
John: It's no big deal. So what if our starting pitching was suspect to begin with, and now we have to start a weak version of a weak version of Roger Clemens. Don't you know that we can just buy a championship? We are just going to buy some pitchers. We will pay them a ton of money, and they will just win a world series. Haven't you been watching baseball for the last seven years?
Reporter 2: With all due respect John, and this goes for all Yankee's fans, haven't you?
Reporter 3: John, what do you think of Derek Jeter averaging 2.1 errors per game?
John: Derek Jeter is God. So what if someone replaced his hands with concrete blocks and that now, instead of his own throwing arm, he has the arm of an eleven-year-old girl? He's still the best player in the game.
Reporter 3: You just said A-Rod was the best player in the game.
John: Yep. A-Rod, Jeter, Robinson Cano; all the best player in the game.
Reporter 4: John, last year, you said "Gary Sheffield and Randy Johnson are the best player in the game".
[At this point, John screamed several obscenities and leaped at the reporter. As of press time, he is in New York Federal prison, sharing a cell with Jason Giambi.]
Reporter 1: John, what you think about Alex Rodriguez?
John: He's the best. He's hit a homer in each of his last five games, two of which were walk-off. Best player in the game.
Reporter 1: If I can ask a follow-up, though. Last year, in September, you said "A-Rod is a f****** jack a** who's not even good enough to s*** Derek Jeter's d***."
John: I stand by those comments. We Yankee's fans don't have the sense, understanding, or basic thinking skills to understand that player's play in peaks and valleys. Our long-term memory can only best be described as being slightly better than that guy in Memento.
Reporter 2: With your entire pitching staff injured, how do you think the team is going to fare?
John: It's no big deal. So what if our starting pitching was suspect to begin with, and now we have to start a weak version of a weak version of Roger Clemens. Don't you know that we can just buy a championship? We are just going to buy some pitchers. We will pay them a ton of money, and they will just win a world series. Haven't you been watching baseball for the last seven years?
Reporter 2: With all due respect John, and this goes for all Yankee's fans, haven't you?
Reporter 3: John, what do you think of Derek Jeter averaging 2.1 errors per game?
John: Derek Jeter is God. So what if someone replaced his hands with concrete blocks and that now, instead of his own throwing arm, he has the arm of an eleven-year-old girl? He's still the best player in the game.
Reporter 3: You just said A-Rod was the best player in the game.
John: Yep. A-Rod, Jeter, Robinson Cano; all the best player in the game.
Reporter 4: John, last year, you said "Gary Sheffield and Randy Johnson are the best player in the game".
[At this point, John screamed several obscenities and leaped at the reporter. As of press time, he is in New York Federal prison, sharing a cell with Jason Giambi.]
Thursday, April 19, 2007
"We are Virgnia Tech."
It’s fashionable for the sports media to mine the commonalities of public sentiment for some reason every fan should rally around a given team or player. Peyton Manning has never won a Super Bowl. Jerome Bettis is coming home to Detroit. George Mason is… well, George Mason.
In most instances, the echoes of the rally cry aren’t audible beyond the trivial realm of sports. But there are some exceptions. In 1970, 37 members of Marshall University’s football team perished in a plane crash, giving sports fans and non-sports fans alike a team to pull for in the season to follow. And even in 2002, 32 years after the Kent State shootings, people still seemed to sympathize with the Golden Flashes in their run to the Elite Eight.
I have been blown away by the maturity displayed by every Virginia Tech student who I’ve seen interviewed on T.V. this week, and their character is only accentuated when contrasted with the embarrassing behavior of a media which has callously disregarded the wishes of VaTech students and the families of the deceased by continuing to play this shithead punk’s mindless diatribe about nothing. And I literally had to turn off CNN this morning because the reporter would not stop trying to bait a student into blaming Virginia Tech’s administration. As the student pointed out, at the convocation, VaTech’s president received a thunderous ovation, louder than the reception for both President Bush and Governor Kayne. He also repeatedly asked that CNN stop showing pictures of that shithead punk (well, he didn’t use those words) and start focusing on the surviving students, the families, and school.
I certainly don’t mean to trivialize what’s happened at Virginia Tech by discussing it in the context of sports. But I think that this is one of those unique times the importance of athletics transcends the playing field. For better or worse, Americans’ love of sports has resulted in athletic competitions serving a cathartic role in times of national strife. The sight of NFL players sprinting on to the field holding American flags on their first Sunday back after 9-11 was more uplifting for many Americans than any politician’s words of solace. The thought of it alone still gives me goose bumps. And next fall, the eyes of the nation will be on Virginia Tech’s football team as they take the field. Every year I’m excited about the start of the college football season, but this year, I’ll be even more excited. I have a new team to root for, and I’m looking forward to it. At the risk of sounding Hokie, “We are Virginia Tech.”
(And now for my own diatribe: I am so damn sick of this shithead punk being described as “troubled” and “disturbed”. I’ll send my life savings, all $58 of it, to the first media personality that gets on the hair and says, “You know what: this kid was just a shithead who’s parents should be shot for not using a rubber." Stop describing him in a manner that makes him sound less responsible for what was obviously a premeditated, carefully planned massacre. Also, why do we need to continuously see the pictures of him? First, that’s exactly what he wanted: he knew his life wasn’t going to add up to a damn thing, so he goes on a shooting rampage for posthumous attention and the media is all too happy to cooperate by showing his inane videos against the wishes of the Virginia Tech community. Second, it’s amazing how someone with two Glocks in his hands still looks like a total freakin’ nerd. Again, the media: they act like this shithead is the most intimidating thing they’ve ever seen. No, he looks like a prepubescent choir boy who can’t even look intimidating when he’s got two Glocks in his hands. He epitomizes cowardice and weakness. Stop making me look at his sorry ass and start focusing on the unbelievable acts of heroism, the recovery of those that survived, and the families of those that didn’t.)
-Ryan
In most instances, the echoes of the rally cry aren’t audible beyond the trivial realm of sports. But there are some exceptions. In 1970, 37 members of Marshall University’s football team perished in a plane crash, giving sports fans and non-sports fans alike a team to pull for in the season to follow. And even in 2002, 32 years after the Kent State shootings, people still seemed to sympathize with the Golden Flashes in their run to the Elite Eight.
I have been blown away by the maturity displayed by every Virginia Tech student who I’ve seen interviewed on T.V. this week, and their character is only accentuated when contrasted with the embarrassing behavior of a media which has callously disregarded the wishes of VaTech students and the families of the deceased by continuing to play this shithead punk’s mindless diatribe about nothing. And I literally had to turn off CNN this morning because the reporter would not stop trying to bait a student into blaming Virginia Tech’s administration. As the student pointed out, at the convocation, VaTech’s president received a thunderous ovation, louder than the reception for both President Bush and Governor Kayne. He also repeatedly asked that CNN stop showing pictures of that shithead punk (well, he didn’t use those words) and start focusing on the surviving students, the families, and school.
I certainly don’t mean to trivialize what’s happened at Virginia Tech by discussing it in the context of sports. But I think that this is one of those unique times the importance of athletics transcends the playing field. For better or worse, Americans’ love of sports has resulted in athletic competitions serving a cathartic role in times of national strife. The sight of NFL players sprinting on to the field holding American flags on their first Sunday back after 9-11 was more uplifting for many Americans than any politician’s words of solace. The thought of it alone still gives me goose bumps. And next fall, the eyes of the nation will be on Virginia Tech’s football team as they take the field. Every year I’m excited about the start of the college football season, but this year, I’ll be even more excited. I have a new team to root for, and I’m looking forward to it. At the risk of sounding Hokie, “We are Virginia Tech.”
(And now for my own diatribe: I am so damn sick of this shithead punk being described as “troubled” and “disturbed”. I’ll send my life savings, all $58 of it, to the first media personality that gets on the hair and says, “You know what: this kid was just a shithead who’s parents should be shot for not using a rubber." Stop describing him in a manner that makes him sound less responsible for what was obviously a premeditated, carefully planned massacre. Also, why do we need to continuously see the pictures of him? First, that’s exactly what he wanted: he knew his life wasn’t going to add up to a damn thing, so he goes on a shooting rampage for posthumous attention and the media is all too happy to cooperate by showing his inane videos against the wishes of the Virginia Tech community. Second, it’s amazing how someone with two Glocks in his hands still looks like a total freakin’ nerd. Again, the media: they act like this shithead is the most intimidating thing they’ve ever seen. No, he looks like a prepubescent choir boy who can’t even look intimidating when he’s got two Glocks in his hands. He epitomizes cowardice and weakness. Stop making me look at his sorry ass and start focusing on the unbelievable acts of heroism, the recovery of those that survived, and the families of those that didn’t.)
-Ryan
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Understanding Equality: Where the Sports World's Gifts to Nacho Consumption (Bowling) and the Civil Rights Movement (Jackie Robinson) Intersect
I’ve been yearning for a Vanderbilt team to finally win the university’s first national championship, and this what I get:
http://vucommodores.cstv.com/sports/w-bowl/recaps/041407aab.html
This is incredibl…….LY depressing. Vanderbilt’s first national team championship came with a 4-3 victory over Maryland Eastern Shore. Oh yes, and it’s WOMEN’S BOWLING.
Vanderbilt athletics has been steadily improving over the past half decade, and a few teams, notably the men’s tennis and women’s basketball teams, have flirted with national championships in recent years. Oh, and Vandy’s baseball team is currently ranked #1 in the country. But the WOMEN’S BOWLING team has beat them to the punch, forever enshrining themselves into the shame every Vandy alum will feel when answering the question, “Which team won your alma mater’s first national championship?”
This is beyond anticlimactic - it’s like a woman preserving her virginity until her wedding day and then sealing the deal in a bathroom stall at the reception. Add the fate-cheating element of this taking place the year the baseball team is number one in the country, and the simile’s only fitting if it’s with the best man.
But it gets better. Around the time the women’s bowling team was added at Vanderbilt, a competitive men’s soccer program was dropped. Yep, it’s another example of measuring equality purely in terms of numbers. Take one sport, soccer, in which literally hundreds of thousands of boys participate every year, and replace it with another sport, bowling (and calling bowling “a sport” is an act of Andrew Carnegie-esque charity on my part), where I’m betting you literally have the supply of quota-minded universities creating the demand of interested players, and you have “equality” as its come to be understood in American sports. Unfortunately, complete numerical parity is what counts, not actual opportunity measured against those actually seeking it. Does anyone honestly think that any of those girls started going to the bowling alley as young kids with the hopes that one day it would lead to a full ride at a top-20 university? No, they were there because they were too lame to hang out with the kids at the arcade and too heavy to play softball.
But the confusion between equality opportunity and numerical symmetry does not end with the inane manner in which Title IX has been applied. Consider the outright stupidity of how Jackie Robinson’s legacy has been treated this week. How many ESPN segments have you seen on the decline in Blacks’ participation in baseball, which almost invariably include the narrator somberly asking, “What would Jackie Robinson think about this if he were alive today?”
Seriously, how myopic can people be? Before Robinson broke the color barrier, there were no Blacks in baseball by policy; today, it’s by choice. Black athletes have entered into and excelled at other sports, and they have Robinson to thank. What says more about the progress - or lack thereof – we’ve made in opening doors for black athletes: the fact that blacks, by choice, are taking up baseball in less numbers or the fact that the best golfer in the world is not Caucasian? Tiger Woods has Robinson to thank. Meanwhile, other people of other racial minorities have thrived in Major League baseball. They, too, have Robinson to thank. Black Americans have moved away from baseball, but it’s been out of their own free will. That they have such mobility now is something to be celebrated.
To confine Robinson’s contribution to the sport of baseball is like saying Rosa Park’s enduring legacy is all about getting better seats on public buses. In terms of facilitating the Civil Right movement, the emergence of black athletes into major professional sports leagues and NCAA athletic conferences arguably comes only second in importance to the valiant contributions of Black Americans serving their country in World War II. The glass ceiling Robinson shattered had extended over all athletic opportunities in this country, but more importantly, it extended over equality in public services and facilities, educational opportunities, housing provisions, politics, the courts, and just about any other facet of life where there was an opportunity for racial oppression to manifest itself. Robinson forced America, the Land of Opportunity, to look itself in the mirror and acknowledge pervasive injustice and hypocrisy. So to answer the braindead ESPN reporter’s question on what Jackie Robinson would think about the current face of the Major League, I pose my own questions: Would Robinson be made aware that Blacks, as well as other racial minorities, can and have chosen to participate in any sport they wish, including sports such as golf where minority participation would have been unimaginable when he first walked on to Ebbets Field? Would Robinson be made aware that blacks are not only dominating in other professional sports, but they’ve transcended the courts and playing fields and are now serving as head coaches and front office personnel? Are you going to mention to him that since his death, there’s been an emergence of black CEOs, two black Secretaries of State, and there’s a very real possibility the next American president will be black? And oh yeah, are you going to mention that while yes, there’s been a decline in the number of black baseball players, it’s out of self-selection, not discrimination? Because if you did mention these things, I don’t think Jackie Robinson would share your pessimism.
Workin’ for the weekend,
Ryan
I have my own Title IX story. Ironically, it is also the story of when I knew I was not a liberal. I was nine, and I was the starting shortstop for my little league team. A girl sued our league to play and a judge agreed, forcing the league to accept her. She was put on our team. Up to this point, I did not care. If she could play, I did not care if she was man, woman, or some kind of hermaphradite like Sanjaya from American Idol.
Then it happened. On her second day of practice with our team, we were turning double plays. I was playing shortstop; she was at second base. The coach hit a ball to my right, and I ranged to get it. I turned and threw a perfect ball to her. Rather than gracefully catch the ball and turn the play--what our former starting second baseman, who now started on the bench, would have done--she completely missed the ball and it hit her in the face, cutting her lip. She cried and ran off the field. I did not feel one shred of regret or compassion for her. And I still don't.
--Paul
http://vucommodores.cstv.com/sports/w-bowl/recaps/041407aab.html
This is incredibl…….LY depressing. Vanderbilt’s first national team championship came with a 4-3 victory over Maryland Eastern Shore. Oh yes, and it’s WOMEN’S BOWLING.
Vanderbilt athletics has been steadily improving over the past half decade, and a few teams, notably the men’s tennis and women’s basketball teams, have flirted with national championships in recent years. Oh, and Vandy’s baseball team is currently ranked #1 in the country. But the WOMEN’S BOWLING team has beat them to the punch, forever enshrining themselves into the shame every Vandy alum will feel when answering the question, “Which team won your alma mater’s first national championship?”
This is beyond anticlimactic - it’s like a woman preserving her virginity until her wedding day and then sealing the deal in a bathroom stall at the reception. Add the fate-cheating element of this taking place the year the baseball team is number one in the country, and the simile’s only fitting if it’s with the best man.
But it gets better. Around the time the women’s bowling team was added at Vanderbilt, a competitive men’s soccer program was dropped. Yep, it’s another example of measuring equality purely in terms of numbers. Take one sport, soccer, in which literally hundreds of thousands of boys participate every year, and replace it with another sport, bowling (and calling bowling “a sport” is an act of Andrew Carnegie-esque charity on my part), where I’m betting you literally have the supply of quota-minded universities creating the demand of interested players, and you have “equality” as its come to be understood in American sports. Unfortunately, complete numerical parity is what counts, not actual opportunity measured against those actually seeking it. Does anyone honestly think that any of those girls started going to the bowling alley as young kids with the hopes that one day it would lead to a full ride at a top-20 university? No, they were there because they were too lame to hang out with the kids at the arcade and too heavy to play softball.
But the confusion between equality opportunity and numerical symmetry does not end with the inane manner in which Title IX has been applied. Consider the outright stupidity of how Jackie Robinson’s legacy has been treated this week. How many ESPN segments have you seen on the decline in Blacks’ participation in baseball, which almost invariably include the narrator somberly asking, “What would Jackie Robinson think about this if he were alive today?”
Seriously, how myopic can people be? Before Robinson broke the color barrier, there were no Blacks in baseball by policy; today, it’s by choice. Black athletes have entered into and excelled at other sports, and they have Robinson to thank. What says more about the progress - or lack thereof – we’ve made in opening doors for black athletes: the fact that blacks, by choice, are taking up baseball in less numbers or the fact that the best golfer in the world is not Caucasian? Tiger Woods has Robinson to thank. Meanwhile, other people of other racial minorities have thrived in Major League baseball. They, too, have Robinson to thank. Black Americans have moved away from baseball, but it’s been out of their own free will. That they have such mobility now is something to be celebrated.
To confine Robinson’s contribution to the sport of baseball is like saying Rosa Park’s enduring legacy is all about getting better seats on public buses. In terms of facilitating the Civil Right movement, the emergence of black athletes into major professional sports leagues and NCAA athletic conferences arguably comes only second in importance to the valiant contributions of Black Americans serving their country in World War II. The glass ceiling Robinson shattered had extended over all athletic opportunities in this country, but more importantly, it extended over equality in public services and facilities, educational opportunities, housing provisions, politics, the courts, and just about any other facet of life where there was an opportunity for racial oppression to manifest itself. Robinson forced America, the Land of Opportunity, to look itself in the mirror and acknowledge pervasive injustice and hypocrisy. So to answer the braindead ESPN reporter’s question on what Jackie Robinson would think about the current face of the Major League, I pose my own questions: Would Robinson be made aware that Blacks, as well as other racial minorities, can and have chosen to participate in any sport they wish, including sports such as golf where minority participation would have been unimaginable when he first walked on to Ebbets Field? Would Robinson be made aware that blacks are not only dominating in other professional sports, but they’ve transcended the courts and playing fields and are now serving as head coaches and front office personnel? Are you going to mention to him that since his death, there’s been an emergence of black CEOs, two black Secretaries of State, and there’s a very real possibility the next American president will be black? And oh yeah, are you going to mention that while yes, there’s been a decline in the number of black baseball players, it’s out of self-selection, not discrimination? Because if you did mention these things, I don’t think Jackie Robinson would share your pessimism.
Workin’ for the weekend,
Ryan
I have my own Title IX story. Ironically, it is also the story of when I knew I was not a liberal. I was nine, and I was the starting shortstop for my little league team. A girl sued our league to play and a judge agreed, forcing the league to accept her. She was put on our team. Up to this point, I did not care. If she could play, I did not care if she was man, woman, or some kind of hermaphradite like Sanjaya from American Idol.
Then it happened. On her second day of practice with our team, we were turning double plays. I was playing shortstop; she was at second base. The coach hit a ball to my right, and I ranged to get it. I turned and threw a perfect ball to her. Rather than gracefully catch the ball and turn the play--what our former starting second baseman, who now started on the bench, would have done--she completely missed the ball and it hit her in the face, cutting her lip. She cried and ran off the field. I did not feel one shred of regret or compassion for her. And I still don't.
--Paul
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
The injustice!
I am from Seattle, and I am furious, furious, that the Seattle SuperSonics are likely to move after next season. Everyone probably wants to know, "hey Paul, where do you put the blame for this miscarriage of justice?" Well, let me tell you, the blame falls in this order:
The new owners. Obviously. These a-holes tried to buy the hornets to move them to Oklahoma, and it didn't pan out. Then, they went shopping for a franchise that has had a few rough years and a group of fair weather fans. Read: Seattle Sonics.
Howard Schultz. He is the CEO of Starbucks, a local guy, and the former owner. He sold to these slimey midwesterners knowing they would move the team. That's like selling your soul to the devil and then acting surprised when he sends you to hell. And yes, I just called Oklahoma hell. Which is where Howard Schultz can go, for all I care.
The fairweather fans. Three years ago, the Sonics were in the Western Conferece Finals, and the city loved it. The stadium was packed, people were wearing brand-new jerseys. It was great. Last year, only one year removed from that run, Seattle voters rejected paying even one dime of public money for a stadium. These are the same people who say "hey, did you hear the Seahawks are going the Super Bowl? I better go buy a hat." I wish the hatred in my thoughts could come through in my writing, because if it could, you would feel the vitriol toward fairweather fans jumping off this page.
Fairweather fan politicans. The legislature and Governor Christine 'I make them keep recounting until I win the election' Gregoire told the Sonics to leave. I am putting this out now, today, on April 17, 2007. The Sonics are going to get an amazing draft pick and will go the NBA Finals next year. At that time, the Governor and speaker of the house will be holding press conferences saying how much they love the team. And I will be in the crowd, booing them so loudly that Yankee fans will blush.
Writing with sorrow and disgust,
Paul
The new owners. Obviously. These a-holes tried to buy the hornets to move them to Oklahoma, and it didn't pan out. Then, they went shopping for a franchise that has had a few rough years and a group of fair weather fans. Read: Seattle Sonics.
Howard Schultz. He is the CEO of Starbucks, a local guy, and the former owner. He sold to these slimey midwesterners knowing they would move the team. That's like selling your soul to the devil and then acting surprised when he sends you to hell. And yes, I just called Oklahoma hell. Which is where Howard Schultz can go, for all I care.
The fairweather fans. Three years ago, the Sonics were in the Western Conferece Finals, and the city loved it. The stadium was packed, people were wearing brand-new jerseys. It was great. Last year, only one year removed from that run, Seattle voters rejected paying even one dime of public money for a stadium. These are the same people who say "hey, did you hear the Seahawks are going the Super Bowl? I better go buy a hat." I wish the hatred in my thoughts could come through in my writing, because if it could, you would feel the vitriol toward fairweather fans jumping off this page.
Fairweather fan politicans. The legislature and Governor Christine 'I make them keep recounting until I win the election' Gregoire told the Sonics to leave. I am putting this out now, today, on April 17, 2007. The Sonics are going to get an amazing draft pick and will go the NBA Finals next year. At that time, the Governor and speaker of the house will be holding press conferences saying how much they love the team. And I will be in the crowd, booing them so loudly that Yankee fans will blush.
Writing with sorrow and disgust,
Paul
Friday, April 13, 2007
A great anecdote from Jay Bilas
Jay Bilas came to speak in our class today on the portrayal of lawyers in the media/on television. I thought people may enjoy this story that he shared with us. He told it while addressing the question of whether his status as a former star athlete at Duke ever resulted in different treatment as a lawyer. Brett, feel free to post a reply with any necessary corrections to my story as my recollection conveys it. Where I quote Bilas, I'm paraphrasing.
Bilas is a Duke Law alum. Before he started his career in broadcast journalism, he actually did practice as an attorney. His stint as a lawyer afforded him the chance to argue in front of the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals in Richmond. He was nervous and was glad to be the respondent, since arguing second would allow him to see the behavior of the judges.
{A brief aside, for the benefit of those that don't know much about legal practice (not to imply that I do): when arguing an appellate case, the petitioner (the person who filed the appeal because he/she lost on the issue at the lower court) and respondent (self-explanatory... if not, tough luck) are debating a specific legal issue. Unlike the trial court cases you often see on TV, there is no jury. The presiding judges will read both sides' briefs, listen to both sides' oral arguments, and ultimately make a decision. In court, they listen to both lawyers' legal arguments and will interrupt with questions. The amount of questions vary judge-to-judge. Some, like Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas, rarely ask questions. Others are much more voluble.}
So anyway, Bilas said the first guy argued, and in Bilas's words, "He sucked. I knew then that I wasn't going to be the worst lawyer in the room." Then it was Bilas's turn.
{Second and final brief aside: Traditionally, a lawyer begins an argument with "May it please the court"}
Bilas told us that he barely had gotten out the word "May" before one judge began asking questions. He said the judge was unrelenting, never even allowing Bilas to get to his argument. As Bilas put it, "By the end, I felt like I had just been through a prize fight."
Now, the Fourth Circuit has this cool tradition where the judges get up from behind the bench and come down to shake the hands of the lawyers after the arguments are over.
When the judge that had drilled Bilas came down to shake his hand, he leaned in and whispered, "I went to Maryland. It's a little bit different here than it is on the basketball floor, isn't it?" Bilas said that he wanted to punch him.
If this doesn't prove that ACC fans are insane about basketball, I'm not sure what does.
Workin' for the weekend,
Ryan
Bilas is a Duke Law alum. Before he started his career in broadcast journalism, he actually did practice as an attorney. His stint as a lawyer afforded him the chance to argue in front of the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals in Richmond. He was nervous and was glad to be the respondent, since arguing second would allow him to see the behavior of the judges.
{A brief aside, for the benefit of those that don't know much about legal practice (not to imply that I do): when arguing an appellate case, the petitioner (the person who filed the appeal because he/she lost on the issue at the lower court) and respondent (self-explanatory... if not, tough luck) are debating a specific legal issue. Unlike the trial court cases you often see on TV, there is no jury. The presiding judges will read both sides' briefs, listen to both sides' oral arguments, and ultimately make a decision. In court, they listen to both lawyers' legal arguments and will interrupt with questions. The amount of questions vary judge-to-judge. Some, like Supreme Court justice Clarence Thomas, rarely ask questions. Others are much more voluble.}
So anyway, Bilas said the first guy argued, and in Bilas's words, "He sucked. I knew then that I wasn't going to be the worst lawyer in the room." Then it was Bilas's turn.
{Second and final brief aside: Traditionally, a lawyer begins an argument with "May it please the court"}
Bilas told us that he barely had gotten out the word "May" before one judge began asking questions. He said the judge was unrelenting, never even allowing Bilas to get to his argument. As Bilas put it, "By the end, I felt like I had just been through a prize fight."
Now, the Fourth Circuit has this cool tradition where the judges get up from behind the bench and come down to shake the hands of the lawyers after the arguments are over.
When the judge that had drilled Bilas came down to shake his hand, he leaned in and whispered, "I went to Maryland. It's a little bit different here than it is on the basketball floor, isn't it?" Bilas said that he wanted to punch him.
If this doesn't prove that ACC fans are insane about basketball, I'm not sure what does.
Workin' for the weekend,
Ryan
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