Fun With Shutdowns and Meltdowns

Based on a conversation which originated at Beyond the Boxscore and continued over at The Book blog, FanGraphs created two new stats for relief pitchers based on WPA. Fortunately there are no intimidating acronyms. The positive one is "Shutdowns (SD)" and the negative one is "Meltdowns (MD)". I think everyone can understand that.

The Yankees are tied for the fewest meltdowns in the MLB with 8 but they've also had the second fewest appearances by relievers this year primarily due to the length their starting pitchers have provided for them. Yankee starters are averaging 6 1/3 IP per start and on nights when Javy Vazquez isn't pitching that number jumps over 6 2/3.

Looking at it another way, the Yankees' ratio of meltdowns to shutdowns is better than 1:2, which is good for 7th best in the league. Without getting my hands too dirty, that seems like a pretty good way to rank the performance of team's bullpens so far this season. When sorted by meltdowns/shutdowns, the teams fall out into three distinct tiers.

Tier 1: These teams all have a better than 2:1 shutdown to meltdown ratio. Most of them have an ERA better than league average with the exception of the Tigers (13th), Nationals (18th) and Pirates (dead last).

(The columns next to ERA and MD/SD are the

team's league-wide ranks in those categories)

What's apparently right away is that there is a decent general correlation to ERA but some extreme outliers (likely due to the fact that it's still early in the season).

The Tigers have a bullpen ERA that is slightly higher than league average but still have the best MD/SD in the MLB. Detroit has converted 80% of their saves (tied for 4th best in the league) which is a good indication that they have been getting the job done when it matters but giving up a lot of runs in low leverage situations. The Nationals are in the same boat with a bad ERA (19th), high SV% (11/13) and a solid MD/SD (5th). The Pirates are an interesting case, as their ERA is clearly inflated by having eight losses by seven runs or more, including two games they lost to the Brewers by a combined 33 runs. Those big losses have essentially no effect on WPA after a certain point but are given equal weight in ERA.

Tier 2: All of these teams have between a 1:2 and 3:4 MD/SD ratio.

The Reds have the fourth most relief appearances in the league so it makes sense that they have the most shutdowns with 33 and are in the top 5 for meltdowns with 18. They might have a good ratio but their ERA is indicative of the fact that their 'pen is over-taxed. Paging Aroldis Chapman. The Red Sox are in a similar situation with fewer shutdowns but a lower ERA. The Mariners are the only team in this cluster with an ERA in the top 1/3 of the league.

Tier 3: The final tier consists of teams who have more than 3 meltdowns for every four shutdowns. Four of them - the Cubs, Dodgers, Giants and Royals - have more MDs than SDs.

Incredibly, the Giants, who are leading the league in bullpen ERA, have only 10 shutdowns (last in the MLB) and are second to last in terms of their MD/SD ratio.

Clearly, over the course of the season, teams like the Giants and Tigers are going to see their ERA and MD/SD ranks converge on each other. The Giants will get some good performances from their relievers when it matters and the Tigers will see their guys give up some runs when it counts too.

Neither ERA nor MDs and SDs are perfect ways of measuring reliever's contributions but each brings their own unique perspective. And when combined with or contrasted against each other they have a way of teasing out information that we might not have known before. It should be interesting to keep on eye on these stats as the season goes forward and FanGraphs includes them on the player pages.

Is Javier Vazquez Unclutch?

Throughout his career it has been intimated that Javier Vazquez has the stuff of an ace but the track record of a back of the rotation starter. He has excellent peripheral numbers (3.45 K/BB), a better than league average ERA (107 ERA+) and averages well over 200 innings per season. Above average performance and lots of innings should be a winning combination, but Vazquez has always seemed to underachieve when it comes to his won-lost record. His four postseason appearances haven't been pretty either.

Plenty of Yankee fans are worried that he doesn't have the make up to pitch in New York. Vazquez bombed in the second half of his only season with the Yankees and served up perhaps the most infamous home run in Yankee history. But all of that was more than 5 years ago and the latter was the result of one pitch. Ozzie Guillen ran him out of town in Chicago after calling him out for not being a big game pitcher, but Guillen was supposedly responsible for ousting Nick Swisher too and that worked out pretty well for the Yankees.

Does Javier Vazquez's performance get demonstrably worse under pressure, or has he been a victim of marginal teams and bad luck? Is his reputation as someone who shrinks as the expectations grow deserved, or is it the conflation of a few unrelated events?

As I attempt to take a deeper look into these questions, I'm going to go back to something Tom Tango said during his Q & A with Mike Silva last week. In the process of justifying FIP as a useful statistic, Tango pointed out that there is a strong correlation between the best pitchers in the league over a long period of time when ranked by FIP and ERA.

Those familiar with the two stats might take that for granted at this point, but it's fairly remarkable considering all the things that FIP totally disregards that factor into ERA: singles, doubles, triples, runs allowed, etc. What's more intriguing, he contends, is what the significant gaps between FIP and ERA over the long term can tell us:

Tom Glavine’s career FIP is about 0.50 runs worse than his career ERA. This signals that Glavine does something extra, either he can sequence his events better (leaves alot of runners on base for example), or he has better control on his balls in play. And Javy Vazquez’s ERA is about 0.30 runs worse than his FIP, which signals something different, that perhaps he gives up alot of doubles, or doesn’t sequence his events well, etc.

Overall, two-thirds of pitchers will have their FIP and ERA be within 0.20 runs of each other, and almost all will be within 0.40 runs of each other.

That’s the power of FIP: that it’s designed to tell you one specific thing, and it tells you a second, perhaps even more important, thing.

So what's that thing? That's the million dollar question.

One interesting fact is that Vazquez has been extremely consistent in under performing his FIP throughout his career. He's only had an ERA lower than his FIP twice in his 12 professional seasons and only then by the slimmest of margins.

Even in his career year with the Braves last season, his FIP was lower than his ERA (his low FIP was one of the reasons Keith Law included him on his Cy Young ballot). I think we can agree that this not just the result of random chance: there is something about the way that Vazquez pitches that causes him to have an FIP lower than his ERA.

So what is it about Vazquez's pitching that could be causing this? Let's look at the career FIP/ERA differentials for Vazquez, Glavine as well as Andy Pettitte:

Above, Tango says that almost all pitchers will have an FIP and ERA within .4 of each other, so keep in mind that we are looking at two outliers extreme outliers here in Vazquez and Glavine. This is the main reason I chose to include Pettitte, who is closer to the norm.

If you're a Yankee fan, I bet you're a little surprised that Pettitte's differential is closer to Vazquez's than Glavine's. Pettitte has the reputation of being able to bear down and pitch better when it matters and seems to induce a lot of double plays, both of which would lower his ERA but not FIP. But the numbers indicate that he's not as great at controlling his outcomes as many assume.

As Tango mentioned above, one thing that might inflate ERA independently of FIP is giving up a lot of doubles. (Numbers are normalized over 200 IP to account for different career lengths):

Vazquez and Pettitte give up more two-baggers than Glavine does, but four over the course of 200 innings doesn't seem like enough to account for a shift in 3/4 of a run in ERA. Furthermore, Vazquez and Pettitte give up doubles at a nearly identical rate, but the latter has an FIP significantly closer to his ERA. There's something else at work here.

The other possibility that is mentioned above is "sequencing". Maybe Vazquez gives up hits in a way that hurts him. For example, starting an inning with a walk before a double often results in a run scored and a man on second. Conversely, a double before a walk likely means men on first and second without a run scoring. Vazquez gives up his fair share of home runs as well, and they are obviously more harmful with men on base (something that doesn't show up in FIP but does in ERA).

A quick and dirty way of teasing this out of the data is to look at a pitcher's stats with men on base. The numbers below are shown in tOPS+, which compares a pitcher's performance in a given scenario to his performance in other situations. (A score of 100 means is a pitcher is average in that situation while anything lower means they were better and higher means they were worse)

One caveat: the bases loaded data is by far the smallest sample size of the bunch. Vazquez has faced 163 batters with the bases loaded while Glavine and Pettitte have 428 and 237, respectively. That said, there is a major difference between Vazquez and the other two (particularly Glavine) when it comes to their performance with men on base and especially with the bags packed. And those situations are the ones that separate FIP from ERA the most.

Now let's look at how each pitcher performed based on the score of the game, again using tOPS+:

The smallest sample size in this case is "> 4R", but even for Vazquez that includes 811 plate appearances. Pettitte has the most favorable distribution, pitching his best when the game is close and his worst when it is out of hand. Vazquez, however, is just about average in tight games but much better when the lead or deficit is greater than 4.

Now let's put the last two items together. Baseball-Reference's Leverage stats take into account the occupancy of the bases as well as the score of the game, as does FanGraphs Clutch stat:

This tells a slighty different story about Pettitte but affirms what's becoming a trend for Vazquez - he doesn't perform as well in high leverage situations as he does in lower ones.

Does WPA agree?

Yes. It appears that Vazquez has not given his team as good of a chance to win as either Pettitte over Glavine over the course of his career, but this is to be expected to a certain degree because WPA is tied more closely to ERA then FIP. In a sense, we already knew this.

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So what do we make of all this?

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It's tempting to use these stats to claim that Vazquez can't handle pitching in New York. His data seem to trend very uniformly (remarkably so) from good to poor as the leverage increases. However, why didn't he cripple under the weight of the New York media in the first half of 2004 when he had a 3.56 ERA in 118 2/3 IP and won 10 games?

To say that he can't handle New York not only gives too much weight to a small sample size but requires a jump that conflates the pressure of in-game situations to be analogous to the demands of pitching for one franchise or another. Does the weight of overall expectations have the same effect on performance that increases in in-game leverage do?

Well, maybe. As 'Duk from Big League Stew pointed out in September, Vazquez's best seasons in terms of ERA+ have come with teams that were out of contention and his worst years came with teams in playoff races:

Three of his top ERA+ years came in the anonymity of Montreal and one came for the 2007 White Sox, who went 72-90. This year's ERA+ of 139 equals his career-best with the 2003 Expos, but while the Braves stuck around as a potential contender for longer than expected, they didn't occupy striking distance space for long.

Meanwhile, Vazquez's worst ERA+ years — with the exception of his first two seasons — all came with contenders: the '04 Yankees, the '05 D'Backs and the '06 and '08 White Sox.

So what is he doing wrong? As we saw when trying to identify some differences between A.J. Burnett's good and bad starts last week, it's extremely difficult isolate any one underlying factor or find a specific reason that Vazquez's numbers go bad as the leverage of the game increases. Javy's K/BB ratio slips from 4.34 to 3.26 to 2.57 as the leverage rises from low to medium to high. His batting average, on-base and slugging percentages all ascend with the gravity of the situation as well.

Even if you grant that Vazquez gets worse under pressure and will pitch worse just by virtue of being a Yankee, he's still likely to be better than league average and throw more than 200 innings. It would be extremely difficult to do that and not add significant value to a team regardless of how his performance is distributed by leverage.

And of course, there's a big difference between "hasn't" and "can't". I'm willing to say that Vazquez certainly hasn't pitched well under pressure in his career, but not that he can't. He clearly had a great year in Atlanta and some of that has been attributed to an improved change up, giving him a second pitch to miss bats with in addition to his curveball. FanGraphs shows that his curveball was what stood out last year, but his change up looked to be improved as well.

It's certainly not impossible that Javy has a good year and surprises his doubters (and even some of his supporters). Vazquez might be frustrating to watch at times in 2010, but the beauty of the situation is that our expectations for him shouldn't be that high to begin with. Not too many teams have the luxury of acquiring a very good pitcher and hoping that he's just average.

'Tis The Season For Analysis And Reason

Good morning Fackers. One of the positive things about the slow news cycle that we are going through in the baseball world at the moment is that it gives some very smart writers the chance to do long-form pieces that don't get done when the offseason news is reaching its peak. While some may yearn for the heat of the hot stove, a whole lot of writing and thought gets expended on the the same signings and trade with a relatively small amount getting added to the discussion. Without many rumors flying, some have been using their time well and posting tremendously interesting analytical pieces that have in some cases taken on a life of their own.

Joe Posnanski recently cranked out 5,000 words comparing the Baseball Hall of Fame with the Baseball Think Factory Hall of Merit. Larry from Wezen-ball explored the illogical nature of the voting process for Cooperstown. There was an interesting discussion yesterday about putting a third team in New York which began with a piece on SI.com by Tim Marchman, and was picked up by Craig Calcaterra of Circling the Bases and Kevin Kaduk of Big League Stew (among others) before Marchman responded to the responses. Dave Cameron of FanGraphs discussed the diminishing value of a marginal win for the Yankees which was further explored by River Ave. Blues and Rob Neyer. Cameron's colleague R.J. Anderson used a quote from Peter Gammons to explain the Time Value of Money as it relates to Jason Bay's contract.

Perhaps the best example of this analytical collaboration are the Mike Silva Chronicles that Tom Tango is currently posting over at The Book Blog. Silva is notoriously suspicious of advanced statistics while Tango is responsible for creating a great many of them and inspiring still more. Recently, Silva compared the necessity for the newly-created stat wRC+ (just like OPS+ but based on wOBA) from FanGraphs to "Cool Ranch Doritos, New Coke, or a colorful cover for the iPod". Tango replied in the comment section, "As I keep saying on my blog time and time again, summary opinion without evidence is the very definition of bullsh!t. And Mike’s statement here is pure bullsh!t."

What might have spiraled into a war of words has instead turned into something productive. Tango agreed to answer ten of Silva's questions about advanced metrics, ranging from the accuracy and utility of UZR to the concepts of replacement level and win shares, pulling back the curtain a bit in attempt assuage some of the doubts that many have about newer stats.

Although these two guys are coming from ends of the statistical spectrum, they are meeting at an important common ground. One of the reasons old school baseball thinkers like Silva distrust advanced metrics is because they doubt their accuracy. The people who understand these measures the best understand their limits because they created them. It could be argued that the people who use UZR and WAR without understanding their blindspots are just as bad as those who refuse to acknowledge their utility at all.

Even if you aren't a stathead, I'd recommend stopping by The Book Blog and taking a look at Silva's questions and Tango's responses. They did five questions yesterday and I believe the next 5 should be coming soon. Although the names of some of the newer stats make them seem vague and complex, I think you'll find that hearing someone explain what they are and why they were created while simultaneously acknowledging their limitations to be quite interesting.

An Athlete's Memoir David Foster Wallace Might Have Enjoyed

One of the most insightful things I've ever read about sports was written by someone who was never thought of as a "sports writer". It was tucked away behind wandering but focused first-person accounts of the Maine Lobster Festival and Adult Video News Awards, an in-depth look at conservative talk radio through host John Zeigler, a short essay about experiencing 9/11 from woman's living room in Bloomington, Illinois and six other works of varying lengths on a variety of other topics.

Like many pseudo-intellectual non-English majors, my first foray into the work of David Foster Wallace was through Consider the Lobster. Had it not been bundled with those nine other essays, I don't know if I ever would have discovered How Tracy Austin Broke My Heart. The piece was originally published as a book review on August 30th, 1992 in the Philadelphia Inquirer (when I was 8 years old), so I certainly wasn't in position to catch it when it originally appeared in print. I'm not a huge tennis fan and Tracy Austin reached the apex of her game years before I was born so it wasn't the type of subject matter I was likely to seek out after the fact. But when I did stumble upon it 16 years after it was written, it still resonated.

So how did Tracy Austin break David Foster Wallace's heart and why did I find it so interesting?

Austin did her part failing miserably to deliver on the promises made by her autobiography Beyond Center Court: My Story. "The inspirational story of Tracy Austin's long struggle to find a life beyond championship tennis", a note by the publisher on the inside of the glossy cover flap claimed. Wallace was a big fan of Austin, and although he followed her meteoric rise through from child tennis prodigy to U.S. Open champion and was an admitted sucker for sports memoirs, he was left dumbfounded by the emptiness of her supposedly candid book. "The book is inanimate because it communicates no real feeling and so gives us no sense of a conscious person", Wallace explains.

The reason I was captivated by Wallace's reaction was that he not only exposed the comical superficiality of the writing by Austin and her co-author Christine Brennan (and there are few things I enjoy more than making fun of bad writing), but he also found much deeper and broadly applicable meaning through its vapidity.

After reciting some of the more obviously vacant quotes from the "as told to" autobiography, DFW offers a theory as to why this genre is so popular and alluring despite the fact that they are "almost uniformly poor as books":

[Note: In lieu of blockquotes, I've embedded clips from the audio version of the essay.

No text version exists online and it's a whole lot easier than transcribing them.]

Wallace then goes on to recount the reasons that Austin's life had an almost classically tragic story arc but note that almost none of what was truly fascinating about her career was ever adequately described in the book. Austin chose to craft her life story to fit the conventions of the stereotypical rise to glory/fall from grace fairy tale to such an extent that at times it ceased to be believable.

She never addresses the fact that her compulsive work ethic and tireless effort caused her body to slowly atrophy through injuries like hamstring and hip flexors pulls and tendinitis. Austin mentions that her career was finally undone when the car she was a passenger in was blindsided on the JFK parkway literally on the way to the US Open in 1989, but instead of explaining how agonizing or iniquitous it was for her freakish natural athletic ability to be effaced by a freak accident, simply says, "I quickly accepted that there was nothing I could do about it."

In a final flourish, Wallace tries to explain why athletes can seemingly never describe what it's like to be a physical genius. He attempts to rectify how it is possible for one to excel against the highest level of competition under immense pressure but never sufficiently convey it to anyone else:

Wallace is essenitally referring to the psychological concept of flow, which explains that to be fully immersed in any sort of task - "in the zone", to invoke a trite cliche - necessitates a singular focus. And as he points out, it's not specific to Austin, but relevant for any athletic pursuit. I've heard that over-thinking is the greatest enemy of an athlete in competition by broadcasters and writers alike, but never deconstructed with such effortless eloquence.

The reason that I bring up a work that's so old it was published on a day when Sam Militello started for the Yankees, is because of the recent release of an autobiography by an different tennis player. This athlete, partially because of a domineering parental presence - just like Tracy Austin - turned pro before he was able to drive. He too ascended through the professional ranks with incredible speed en route to two US Open titles but hit a wall at an age when he should have been entering his prime.

However, for all the similarities between the backgrounds and careers of Andre Agassi and Tracy Austin, their books couldn't be any different. While Austin declares that her mother "did not force her into tennis" at age three (as if she could remember either way), Agassi admits that his father used chase him around the house with a racket to take any trophy that Agassi received for something less than winning (e.g. sportsmanship) and smash it to pieces. Both hustled adults in matches when they were only children, but only Agassi admits being complicit in the scheme. As opposed to Austin, who flatly denied knowledge of match tanking or drug usage despite both being rampant during her time as a top pro, Agassi candidly admits that he partook in both activities.

We can question the motivations of Agassi and even assume that the reason he was so frank in Open lies somewhere between the narcissistic desire to tell his story in the most public of forums and achieve the goal of selling as many books - and therefore making as much money - as possible. But those were the ostensible goals of Austin, too. The difference is that Agassi delivered on the promise of a tell-all memoir. He truly pulled back the curtain and told the audience things that they never would have known had he not chose to reveal them.

Unfortunately, if you are familiar with David Foster Wallace, you know that he'll never read Agassi's book because he took his own life a little over a year ago. He battled with depression for his entire adult life and, in the process of trying to ween himself of the anti-depressant that enabled him not just to function but to pen brilliant works like Infinite Jest, hanged himself in his California home while his wife was out running some errands.

The most probable reason Wallace read all of those sports memoirs and why he said - however playfully - that Tracy Austin "broke his heart" with hers, was that he deeply wanted to go inside of the mind of a great athlete. It showed up in some of his other work, particularly the profile of Roger Federer he wrote for the New York Times. One of the main story lines in Infinite Jest revolves around the tennis-playing Hal Incandenza and there was even a character reminiscent of a young Tracy Austin. Like many of us, Wallace was a good but not great athlete in his youth and I think he desperately wanted just once, for someone who ascended to the very top to reveal what it was - what powerful mental process - that made them so magnificent.

But as he came to realize in reading Beyond Center Court, that kind of athletic genius could never be revealed in a book. Those innate gifts can't be put into words. In Open, Agassi offers the opposite. Instead of trying to explain what made him so great, he exposes the interior struggles that made him human. That is something that has always been able to be conveyed by prose, but the desire to do so for someone who has achieved unquestioned success is rare indeed.

A Few More Notes From Last Night

Last night's game ran 5 hours and ten minutes and contained 432 pitches spread out over 108 plate appearances. There's still more to be said about it.

Mariano Rivera was obviously excellent last night but much credit goes to the defense played behind him. Johnny Damon made a nice sliding catch on a looper by Chone Figgins. Mo and A-Rod combined to put 4 hands on a popped up bunt by Jeff Mathis (right) and Cano made a ranging snag for the last out in the 10th inning. Mo doesn't usually need good defense behind him, but when he gets it, say goodnight. He's like Phil Ivey hitting a run of good cards. Ya ain't got a shot.

The Baseball-Reference blog puts Rivera's performance as an "Old man on no rest" in perspective. Mo's the man but he's got nothing on Pete Alexander!

Tango from The Book breaks down the final play of the game mathematically. You probably already knew this, but there was essentially nothing to be gained by trying to get the runner at second (if you assume there was no chance they could have turned a double play).

Craig Calcaterra has some thoughts on the game, with some typical Shyster snark, "It takes longer to give up irrational A-Rod hate than it does to learn to be clutch."

Our pals at Halos Haven were not too happy with Joe Buck or the umps last night. The thing is that the biggest call that went against the Angels was questionable but ultimately correct, unlike the double play that Derek Jeter actually beat out in the sixth inning.

Will Weiss doesn't usually do game recaps for Bronx Banter, but he's got a duesy up over there.

Some random musings from the Yankee Universe.

The obligatory wrap up from LoHud.

And pick which quote doesn't fit into this collection.

Enjoy your football Sunday.

Mo Sicka Than Your Average Poppa

Via River Ave. Blues, Mariano Rivera was not 100% when got touched up for 3 earned runs in 2/3 of an inning on Saturday. Tim Brown from Yahoo!, would you please fill us in?

For several hours before Rivera took the ball Saturday afternoon in that tie game, he’d suffered with a stomach ailment that brought aches and repeated vomiting, according to one Yankee. Rivera had rolled off the trainer’s table, where he’d hoped to sleep it off, and into the bullpen in the eighth inning, when he began to warm up.

Joe at RAB directs the attention of his post to commending the fact that Mariano stepped up and took the ball, even though he wasn't at his peak and didn't make excuses about it. Although once the information came out, the media was more than happy to make those excuses for him.

The thing I have a problem with is that according to Brown, Girardi knew that Mo was physically ill and laying on the trainer's table until he started warming up into the eighth inning. Mo is a warrior and a consummate professional, but no one is going to be able to bring their A-Game when they are battling a stomach virus.

I first-guessed the decision to take out Sabathia (without knowledge of Mo's condition) on Saturday. It was a borderline call. It's not like the Yanks were clinging to a one run lead and Phil Coke had just pitched the 8th inning. Sabathia, at 101 pitches, was ready to come back out for the 9th but Girardi went with "the book" even though his closer was vomiting a few innings earlier. I'm sure Mo said he was ready to pitch, but it's the manager's job to get the best performance out of his players, and calling on Mo in that spot was a dicey proposition at best.