An Apology for Irrational Rooting

Quick bit of housekeeping before I get on to the actual post. Here is the link to the last opinion I wrote for NESN a little more than a month ago - a glowing piece about the historic season of Mike Trout, in which I suggested he had a good shot to win the MVP. And while I agree with Joe Posnanski in thinking that if Miguel Cabrera wins the Triple Crown, he'll win the MVP, I also agree with him in thinking that Trout has been the better all-around player this year. Cabrera's season to-date (Triple Crown stats of .332/42/131) has been done or bettered 26 other times in MLB history. Trout's of .323/28/122 runs/46 stolen bases? Once. I'd tell you who it was, but I don't have a subscription to Baseball-Reference - so all I can tell you is the guy had 29 homers. And that's not even mentioning Trout's defense. I rest my case. Did I mention he turned 21 in August? Anyways, the real reason I'm writing...

I saw this article by Dbacks beat writer Nick Piecoro of The Arizona Republic on Baseball Prospectus come across my Twitter feed last week. Having met Nick in the Sports and Media class I was a TA for last year (he seemed to be a pretty swell guy) and having an innate curiosity about anything baseball stat-related, I clicked through.

And my initial response, after reading it, was not exactly what I had been expecting.

The conceit of the article, more or less, is that Nick feels divided between enjoying the unexpected in baseball and rooting for the rationality of good process and the best teams enjoying the greatest success. He offers up this year's Orioles as an example, who - when he wrote the article - had a run differential somewhere around -20, yet looked to be in prime position to lock down at least a wild card spot. Meanwhile, the Rays - with their model of a front office and a run differential of +74 - were floundering along on the outside looking in. Where is the justice in that, he wondered. Or, as he put it: "I just want to see the best teams win. I want to see the best decisions—good process—pay off in the end. I want to believe, despite all the things in the world that tell us otherwise, that good work is rewarded in the end. Too often, that doesn’t seem to happen in baseball. But I guess if it did, we wouldn’t have anything left to debate. And what fun would that be?"

Despite the clear conflict he felt, the enjoyment of the unexpected and the overall quality of the article, I was at first a little skeptical of Nick's premise of what he called "rational rooting." Baseball - and sports, for that matter - are not played on paper. They play the games for a reason. We live life for a reason. If life went along as everyone expected it to, with the people who deserved to be rewarded rewarded and those that didn't left wanting, then where would the excitement be? It's a cliche that "life isn't fair," but it's a cliche because it's true. If life and sports were fair, how would we know the true joy in life? To live in a society where everything was definitively meritocratic sure sounds promising but consider this - if everything went according to plan, how could we possibly fully enjoy what we knew was going to come to pass? It's like Garrison Keillor's imagining of Lake Wobegon, where "all the children are above average." If they're all above average, doesn't that make them all average?


We play with the hand we're dealt in life. And as my high school valedictorian noted in his speech (likely drawing inspiration from the many games of no-money poker we played in Calc as the year wound down after the AP test), it's not always the people dealt the best hand who win - it's often the ones who play their cards better than the others. It's sometimes the ones who get lucky. Just as there is no gene for the human spirit, there is no stat for luck.

So that's why, despite liking the article on the merits of its writing and acknowledging Nick's ultimate conflict, I couldn't get onboard with the initial premise. Then a few things happened today that made me rethink all that for a bit - and perhaps unsurprisingly, they all relate to something that is nearly all exclusively statistics.

I may have mentioned once or twice in this space that I play a few fantasy sports, baseball chief among them. And with the baseball playoffs ending in 2 of my 3 leagues today, I was bluntly reminded of the part of me that sometimes can't help but agree with Nick's premise.

The first league was mine nearly the entire year. After a 7-17-2 start through two weeks, I proceeded to absolutely obliterate the rest of the league. Over the subsequent 19 weeks, I went 162-77-8. For those of you scoring at home, I won nearly 68 percent of the categories that weren't a tie during those 19 weeks. That's a 110-52 record in the majors. I won 17 of those 19 match-ups, including 15 straight at one point. I won by 5 or more categories 11 times, and scored double-digit category victories in a week 6 times. Overall, I had a .637 winning percentage, which translates to a 103-59 record in the majors. I was the only team to have more than 160 (169) wins and the only team to have fewer than 100 (94) losses. I finished 9 games ahead of the guy in second place - nobody else was closer than 22.5 games. The last-place teams, which both had winning percentages of a decent .407, were both 63 games back. I was by far the best statistical team, leading the league in 7 of 13 categories. This effectively guaranteed me a match-up victory every week.

I was undeniably the best team in the league. If we played in a roto league, I would have won going away.

But we don't play in a roto league. And I was bounced in the semifinal 9-2, by a team that finished 31 games behind me in the regular season.

In another league, I did not "absolutely obliterate the rest of the league." But after a mediocre start and languishing in seventh place, I went on a tear in the middle of the season, winning 7 straight match-ups with a combined record of 65-16-3. In other words, that's what amounts to approximately an .800 winning percentage. Unsurprisingly, this vaulted me up into the top half of the league, which only had 4 playoff spots for the 8 teams. Although I only led the league in one category, I was the only team to be in the top 4 for each one. Nobody else was even that close. Consequently, I was far and away (even more so than the first league) the best team statistically.

While my record may not have shown it, I had the best team in the league. It was just a matter of hanging on to my playoff spot. Again, if we had had a roto league (which hews much closer to Nick's idea of "rational rooting" by dint of ranking teams based on only statistical performance), I'd have been making space in my imaginary trophy case for a big new 1st-place one weeks ago.

But again, we don't play in a roto league. And I was shut out of the playoffs by 1.5 games, thanks to a sudden onset of streaming pitchers by one team. Not only that, but I was beaten 7-5 in the 5th-place game by the team that finished a game behind me. So my team, the best team in the league, was relegated to 6th place.

Last year, I was seeded 4th and finished 4th. Can't really complain with that, as I ended up where I was supposed to. I had a .581 winning percentage, and was beaten in the semis by what was easily the best team in the league - not really an argument to be had there.

Except I lost the 3rd-place game and my chance at an imaginary trophy to a team that, by the admission of its manager, hadn't been touched in more than 3 months.

A few years ago, I was 10 games clear of the second-place team and at least 21 up on everyone else. I lost exactly 4 match-ups during the regular season.

I was nearly wire-to-wire in 1st. I finished 4th.

It hasn't just been baseball, either. Last year, I went 12-2 in the regular season in a fantasy football league. Didn't lose until Week 7. Was three games clear of the second-place team. Outscored the next closest team by 150 points (2219-2069) - put another way, outscored them by 7.2 percent. One of four teams to crack the 200-point barrier in one week. Only team to break 190 points twice.

My team was an unstoppable juggernaut. Until it lost the title game by 50 points, despite the kicker throwing a TD pass.

In another league, I had the third-most points and was only behind the leader by 20. The next-closest team was 150 points back. The three of us at the top were pretty much equal.

However, I had by far the hardest schedule in the league, scuffled to being seeded 4th, dropped the opening round despite easily outscoring everybody but the person I was playing and finished 5th.

This is all to say that I've had my fair share of moments where - in as much frustration as you can have with imaginary games with imaginary trophies at stake played with imaginary teams sporting names such as "I Just Had Sexson," "TBD" and "The Jets Suck" - I've sided decisively with Nick on the whole issue of rational rooting. My team was by far the better team - it deserved to win! I managed it better, I drafted it better - I deserved to be rewarded for my efforts!

However, that's to miss the point of why we play. I've long said that I prefer head-to-head over roto because it better mimics real life. In real life, the Yankees don't win just because they have the best players money can buy. In real life, the Patriots don't win simply because they are 18-0 and have been the better team over the course of the season. Heck, in real life, McKayla Maroney doesn't win for the mere reason that she is exponentially better at vaulting than any other girl in the world. The judges don't just run over and say "Here you go McKayla, here's your gold medal, you're awesome."

My mom has long been fond of saying "Any given team, any given day." The Patriots were not the better team that February night in 2008 - the Giants were. McKayla Maroney picked the wrong night to fall for once in her life. The Yankees, well, money can't buy everything.

Yes, my teams would have won or at least done better in roto leagues, where merit is more effectively rewarded and the best teams always win. It's what the rational rooter would prefer. But momentary moments of disappointment in a great season gone to waste aside, give me head-to-head and real life any day. The unpredictability only make the victories - in fantasy sports, in real sports and in life - that much sweeter.