YCS staff bicker amongst themselves, Vol. 473

Hey, it's healthy for like-minded people to disagree. Or as the case with Mike, to have one guy in the group that seemingly everyone always disagrees with, all the time, about everything.

Well sorry, Mike--you're being singled out again. And it's for this recent comment on a Nate post:

My dumbass friend: "A-Rod's such a choker. Why can't he be more like Jeter?"

Me: You do realize there's really no such thing as a "clutch" player? It's just something that gets attached to you based on factors out of your control (batting order, defensive stops, etc.) that puts a player in a position to win the game in the closing minutes, and based on that small sample size. If it were a larger sample size, the player would most likely on average perform at the same level as the rest of his career. It's just that no one remembers a game-winning home run if it happened in the 5th inning.

MDAF: But some players just thrive off those pressure situations and rise to the challenge.

Me: (double blink)

Now unless I'm horribly mistaken and "(double blink)" is your way of saying "You know what--maybe I've oversimplified the matter. You just might have a point"--unlikely given your choice of descriptor for your friend, who I hope reads this blog by the way--I'd like to stick up for Mr. MDAF. Even further, I'd like to suggest that you, Mike, may very well be the dumbass.

(And an aside: Do you have any documentation of your friend saying, "Why can't he be more like Jeter?" I honestly can't imagine someone saying this, and without having been there, I'm almost 100% certain that that part of this story is pure embellishment.)

Allow me to make one thing perfectly clear--I absolutely believe in the notion of "clutch" players. I say this almost defensively because I've long been branded this blog's coldly intellectual, Baseball Prospectus-/ Fire Joe Morgan-loving statnick, and I'm afraid that I'm responsible for perpetuating the non-existence of "clutch."

But I have never denied that such a thing exists. Do I believe that the difference between "clutch" and "non-clutch" players is wildly exaggerated? Of course. Do I believe that single outcomes and small samples are too readily attributed to "clutchness"? Absolutely. But I'd really like to know--Why is it reasonable to extrapolate this skepticism into all-out denial of "clutch"? This is like confirming/denying the human impact on global warming on near-certain-yet-still-uncertain evidence that it exists. But of course, no one around this blog would ever do a thing like-- Oops. Nevermind.

Uh, right, staying on topic. I think it would be crazy for anyone who has ever played a sport--nay, anyone who's ever done anything requiring mental and physical coordination--to rule out the notion of "clutchness." Maybe we've never felt it on the free-throw line in the Final Four, but we've at least felt it in sectionals, or rec-league, or during that final showdown with Dr. Wily on Mega Man 2. Because what are we talking about when we say "clutch" is simple--it's performing in situations when stakes are highest, and opportunity to atone is most limited.

Yes, it is extremely hard to define a clutch situation in a sports context and even harder to quantify clutch performance. Does it pertain to big games only? Or big moments within games? Or only big moments late in games? Then where to draw the line? Playoff games? Deciding playoff games? Games in the month of September when leading or trailing a penant race by three games or less? During the final minute with a two-possession or less point margin?

Trying to define this sort of thing has historically put us in a worse spot. It's how we ended up with ridiculous and arbitrary stats like the save, or worse yet, the save's lame spinoff, the hold. (Damn you, Jerome Holtzman.) I think most people would agree that sports need less of these measurements, not more.

And that doesn't even address the problem in analyzing the results. How large is a large enough sample size? Is a certain player's sample disproportionately loaded with events during a certain stage of his career? Or during a certain time in the season? And say a player's numbers suggest he's super-clutch during single-game "clutch" situations but horribly chokey during seasonally-defined "clutch" situations. Now we need more specific terms to define different types of clutch! You hear that--more terms!

Of course, these complications are simply complications. None of them preclude the tangible, psychological effects of "big" situations on performance results. When they work for us, we slip into that distraction-free vacuum where our hands and feet and eyes do their thing in perfect synch without our mental noise to rattle them. When they work against us, we get sweaty palms, ticks in our muscle memory, and occasionally, a tiny discharge of urine.

So the real question we're asking is, could there be certain players who experience the positive effects during "clutch" situations more often than other players do? To that, I respond: Yes!!!!! Of course!!! How could you rule this out?! Players range in ability in every other imaginable way, so why not this one?!

It would seem logical, then, that if players differed in their response to pressure, the impact on their results--as compared to non-"clutch" situations--would differ as well. How much? Who knows. Maybe if we could quantify the results for a particular "clutch" situation, we'd find that major league hitters experience anywhere from a 15% drop to a 15% increase in OPS compared to non-"clutch" situations. Maybe a certain "clutch" NBA player experiences a 5% increase in shooting accuracy from a particular spot on the floor during "clutch" situations as compared to non-"clutch" situations.

Are those reasonable ranges? Again, I don't know. I'm just trying to throw stuff out here. The point being that regardless, this evaluation of "clutch" is inevitably left mostly to our perception and speculation. Our memories would suggest that David Ortiz and Chauncey Billups improve their probabilities for success during high-pressure situations. Is the evidence overwhelming and complete enough to say this for certain? Well, no, probably not. To say so is to say the obvious. But to extrapolate such an obvious observation into something as far reaching as the total and utter non-existence of this thing we call "clutch" is retarded. We need to stop trying to throw this shit out there.

Maybe the truest evidence of "clutch" lies in the place least tangible to us--the player's own mind. Chauncey Billups calls himself "Mr. Big Shot." As absurd as it may sound, this might be our strongest evidence that Billups is, in fact, a "clutch" player. After all, without an overwhelming body of data available, only the player really knows how he reacts to the "big" moment.

For all we know, David Ortiz wets his pants everytime he bats in extra innings, and he becomes so delirious that he's actually swinging at the tail of a floating red serpent instead of a baseball. Maybe David Ortiz is actually the least "clutch" player in the entire MLB, and he's just gotten remarkably lucky so far in his small sample of "clutch" opportunities. But again, this would only point out the inadequacy of a small sample, not disprove the notion of "clutch."

"Clutch" exists, people. Is it all-but-impossible to measure? Probably. Is its effect on particular outcomes wildly exaggerated? Definitely. Can we gauge an individual's "clutchness" well enough to brand one guy "clutch" and another a choker? Ehhh... Not sure.

So there you go. All those words and my big conclusion is "not sure." It may not be ballsy, but it makes a hell of a lot more sense than a bullshit denial.