Rob Neyer: God Among Men

Finally, someone with readership greater than the Blogosphere has said it. Here it is, in full text, Rob Neyer's article from ESPN.com about why the 'intangibles' in baseball mean absolutely shit (and by doing this, I'm sure I'm violating absolutely no copywright laws whatsoever). Thank you, Rob Neyer, for having some sense. We at YCS salute you.

When asked recently about his team's struggles, Angels manager Mike Scioscia said this: "We have to get better offensively. But I think it can happen. And when we get Darin Erstad back, that is a huge lift. People outside this clubhouse have no idea what he means to this team, how he pushes players, how his intensity rubs off, how he makes everyone else better."

Here's the thing, though: The people who make the important decisions don't actually believe any of this claptrap. Maybe in their hearts they do. But not in their heads, where most of the real work is done. The Angels did sign Erstad to a four-year, $32 million contract extension in 2002, when he was in the midst of a second straight lousy season. But in 2000 he'd batted .355 with 25 home runs, and even two years later, management must have thought the team would be getting some of that production in future years.

But of course it hasn't. Not even close. Erstad's contract -- finally, mercifully -- expires at the end of this season, and it's fair to assume neither the Angels nor any other team will offer Erstad a new contract that even remotely approaches his last one.

Did something happen to his "intangibles" in the last four years? Is he less intense, less of a presence in the clubhouse? Maybe. But probably not. Rather, Erstad simply can't hit -- or remain healthy enough to stay in the lineup -- the way he once could, and thus he's not worth $8 million per season to the Angels or anybody else.

A good player is worth $8 million to the right team, and a good player is two or three wins better than an average player. So if the Angels aren't willing to pay Erstad $8 million just for hanging around -- and with his outstanding defense, he's close to average when he's actually in the lineup -- then essentially they're saying they don't believe his intangibles are worth even two or three extra wins per season. Maybe they do believe Erstad's intangibles are worth one extra win … but then, one win is awfully close to zero, isn't it?

Still, if I ask you for specific evidence that intangibles play a big role in the game, you might, reasonably enough, say, "Well, I don't have any evidence, except this: Everybody in the game talks about intangibles." That's worth knowing, of course … but just because a significant number of people believe something -- or say they believe something -- does not mean it's true. According to a 2003 Harris poll, nearly a third of Americans believe in astrology.
No, not astronomy. Astrology, which is the belief that the alignment of the heavenly bodies on your birthday is linked to your personality and what's going to happen to you tomorrow. Also, roughly half the population believes ghosts exist. Not that ghosts might exist, mind you, that they do exist.

I don't mean to equate baseball's intangibles to the supernatural. I don't believe in astrology or the existence of ghosts. I do believe that intangibles exist, and that they occasionally do play a significant role in a team's fortunes. My point is that you don't have to believe in specific intangibles just because somebody else does. As Michael Shermer writes, "While expertise is useful for separating the wheat from the chaff, it is dangerous in that he might either (1) accept a wrong idea just because it was supported by someone we respect (false positive) or (2) reject a right idea just because it was supported by someone we disrespect (false negative). How do you avoid such errors? Examine the evidence."
And nobody seems to want to examine the evidence. Do Erstad's teammates really play better when he's in the lineup? Or rather, because he's in the lineup? I don't know, and neither does Scioscia. Do teams struggle immediately after suffering a dramatic loss? Do teams thrive immediately after gaining a dramatic victory? No and no, although there are a few hundred baseball writers who will tell you differently. (And I'm not exactly sure what most baseball writers believe, either. People will tell you Terry Pendleton and Kirk Gibson won MVP awards because of their intangibles … but when you actually check, you'll find that both players were deserving based purely on their measurable performance.)

Again, though, it's not that intangibles don't exist. Perhaps they do. It's that very, very few of us have any idea what they are, specifically. For every baseball writer or manager or general manager who really can identify the intangibles that mean something, there are a few dozen who are just guessing. Most of us just aren't that smart.

On this subject, I leave the final words to Sandy Koufax. Not because Sandy Koufax is necessarily right about everything but because he was (and probably still is) a pretty intelligent man, and because he serves as a useful counterpoint to all the other baseball people who are quoted to serve the purposes of people like me. So take it away, Sandy …

"In the end, it all comes down to talent. You can talk all you want about intangibles, I just don't know what that means. Talent makes winners, not intangibles. Can nice guys win? Sure, nice guys can win -- if they're nice guys with a lot of talent. Nice guys with a little talent finish fourth, and nice guys with no talent finish last."

Take that, most of the baseball-reporting world.