In Defense Of Fantasy Baseball

I believe that the film Knocked Up will turn out to be one of the defining comic movies of my generation.  Sadly though, this will be at the expense of one of America’s greatest institutions—Fantasy Baseball. 

The plot of the movie is irrelevant except for a subplot that centers on a wife’s suspicion that her husband has not been faithful.  She eventually discovers that he has in fact been cheating. But instead of with another woman, she finds him with a group of guys engaging in their Fantasy Baseball draft. 

The game does not get much mainstream exposure, and in one of its rare chances is described by the lead character, “as a bunch of nerds playing fantasy baseball.” 

There is truth to the joke that the Fantasy Baseball goers—the sport statistic jockeys—are nerds of a sort, but the game already suffers from a bad rapport with the general public and is in no need of an exacerbating representation. 

If you’ve never heard of Fantasy Baseball you’re in good company as most of the civilized world is ignorant of its joys and pleasures.  It’s a game where participants build and manage imaginary baseball teams that accrue points based on the real-life performance of professional baseball players. 

While the game connects me to my good buddies across oceans and time zones, entices me to pick up my mitt for a leisurely toss-around, and leads me to stay up at night catching the latest news on ESPN’s Baseball Tonight. It will always endure an image problem, well deserving of its unfortunate forename—fantasy.

What is it about Fantasy Baseball, with its abundance of typical enjoyments (ex: baseball, correspondence) that forces it to remain simply a fringe game, while its cousin, Fantasy Football, enjoys mainstream appeal?  In fact, the two games are incomparable. 

Whereas Fantasy Football requires only casual involvement for an assessment of a paltry sample size with only two statistical categories—packaging an exciting sport with a game of chance—Fantasy Baseball is more of a statistical game, involving no less than a daily flux of ten categories, requiring constant inspection spanning nearly seven months. 

While Fantasy Football may be the darling of the fantasy world, Fantasy Baseball embraces its fringe status, because what makes it misunderstood is what makes it great. 

So why does the baseball fan have such a natural curiosity for baseball statistics? 

To examine this unique obsession we revisit the game of our grandfathers. 

Folks would fill the ballpark grandstands to brave another humid summer day of baseball.  The crowds would cheer their favorite ball players as they stepped up to the plate for their turn at bat, all the while monitoring their scorecards. 

Between handfuls of crackerjacks, the fans would diligently fill out these scorecards—2B for a double, 3B for a triple—the practice as integral to the ballpark experience as the national anthem or the seventh inning stretch. 

These days the scorecard is relegated to the little league baseball game, logging the game’s events for an official scorekeeping.  But we still see those men at the ballparks.  Those fans who look as though they belong to a different age, one that might have seen Joe DiMaggio’s hit streak or Teddy Williams’ miracle season.  They still bring their scorecards to the game, tracking every statistic, jotting down all the action. 

The American culture worships records and statistics, and no sport is richer in numbers than Baseball.

Fantasy baseball is the evolution of the scorecard.  The sheer number of games in a baseball season guarantees a juicy assortment of numbers that would make any statistician sweat. 

A sample size of this magnitude transforms occurrences into trends and replaces randomness with likelihoods.  Of course, the numbers are not produced all at once; they trickle in day after day as a constant flow of information, ready to be interpreted.

Baseball statistics puts into context that which we see on the baseball diamond.  It allows us to compare a player’s present performance with what he has done and make predictions about what he may do.  Fantasy Baseball allows me to collect those results as my father collected baseball cards, connecting me to a game that I was raised to adore.

The vast amount of information is what allows for so many variations on investigating the classic questions: Who will lead the league in home runs?  Who will steal the most bases?  Who is the most clutch?  Even clutch hitting—the term used for a player who always seems to produce a hit at the most opportune moment—loses its magic when discussed together with averages and probabilities. 

The player may have been responsible for the winning run in three recent games—seemingly clutch in the bottom of the ninth—but if he cannot consistently produce worthy numbers, he is expendable.

From a casual perspective, this player seems to be an invaluable asset to his team, but when viewed in the light of statistics, we realize that he was in reality hurting it. Thus, the joy of statistics has greatly improved our understanding of the game.

But if it were just a collection of someone else’s statistics, could I really find such delight?

Like the investigator running a probabilities experiment or the epidemiologist carefully molding a study and interviewing patients, as a manager I have put together a team that reflects my preparation and beliefs, yielding a collection of data that is wholly my own. 

Do I play my favorite hometown pitcher against the Yankees unforgiving offense?  My gut says yes, but my mind—that rational and logical machine that has seen enough statistical proof of Yankee dominance—tells me I’m crazy.  I play him and the numbers are mine, for better or worse. 

Fantasy Baseball is a hobby for the analytic mind.  It is the union of strategy and statistics with a past time that I’ve held dear in my heart since little league and those summer nights listening to Jon Miller’s sweet voice announcing the play-by-play of the Oriole’s game over the radio, slowly drifting to sleep. 

Though I treasure keeping in touch with good friends on a regular basis and while I enjoy digging my fingers into the couch as I anticipate every pitch from my rookie pitcher, there is nothing more exciting than those numbers, the daily accumulation of the five offensive and five pitching categories, and that morning bolt to the daily newspaper with the box scores in the back. 

Nothing—except maybe the Orioles in the World Series. 


Epilogue:

For those of you hoping for some Fantasy Baseball analysis, I include a few tips gleaned from my leagues recent draft.  I am always impressed by the expertise and dedication of my fellow managers. 

Our league drafted for a 5 x 5 scoring system in a ten-team league.  Whether you are preparing for your own draft or just waiting for the season to begin, I present you with the lessons learned from the Mystic Chords:

* Francisco Liriano, the Minnesota Twins hurler, was drafted in the top tier of starting pitchers.  The ace flashed his stuff in 2006 before missing a season and a half to Tommy John surgery.  The league is anticipating a special year from this kid.
 
* Utley is and will be the best second basemen.  His hip surgery will not stop this Philadelphia Phillies superstar. 

* A half a year of Alex Rodriguez is still worth a high second round pick. 

* I love Joey Votto.

* Even in the most disciplined of leagues, a run on catchers will happen early, and Victor Martinez, of the Cleveland Indians, still has a big part in it.

* People still have faith in BJ Upton (I can understand) and Justin Verlander (I can’t understand). 
  
* There will always be that guy who grabs three over-hyped players in three consecutive rounds.  One of them will be Matt Wieters. 

* Chris Ray was taken as a top reliever; George Sherrill is still on the wire.

* Nobody wants to believe in Matt Kemp, but no one wants to miss out on him either.

* Jayson Werth in the top 100? We may be on to something.