F. Scott Fitzgerald once declared "There are no second acts in American lives." The well-read Keith Olbermann--who infamously "napalmed" bridges at ESPN instead of just burning them--is no doubt familiar with that quote and he is attempting to disprove it. Olbermann returned to the self-proclaimed "Worldwide Leader" on Monday as the host of Olbermann, a one hour nightly show featuring Olbermann's perspectives on a variety of sports-related subjects plus interviews with media members and sports figures. Intelligent sportswriting is hard to find and should always be savored;
Olbermann's writing is superb and he is also excellent at delivering
those words on air (which is a completely different skill).
Olbermann is smart, funny and edgy. He does not suffer fools gladly--or at all, for that matter--which is the major reason he always seems to be at war with his bosses, his colleagues and the world in general. I can do without hearing his political views--which are not nearly as smart, funny or edgy as his take on the sports world--but after watching the premiere episode of his new show I realized just how much I missed listening to Olbermann dispense wisdom and wit about both how the games are played and how the games are covered.
Olbermann's blistering but accurate take on the latter subject will not win him many friends in the media world, not that Olbermann cares about that at all; Olbermann spent the entire first segment pointing out how one incompetent New York writer manufactured out of thin air the idea that New York Jets' Coach Rex Ryan's job is at stake because of how Ryan used quarterback Mark Sanchez in a preseason game. That writer, having no source other than his own feverish Twitter rant, then published a story acting as if his groundless speculations have some basis in fact. Olbermann notes that the responsible thing for that writer--and for the other media members working the Jets' beat--to do would be to ask Ryan and/or Ryan's employer about this directly but instead Ryan's postgame press conference turned into a bizarre Kabuki theater performance during which the media members belligerently repeated insipid questions and an exasperated Ryan issued increasingly sarcastic replies. Olbermann lamented that actual, legitimate reporting is dead and that, instead of investigating and covering news, media members now create fake controversies in order to sell newspapers, increase TV ratings and/or generate website hits. Olbermann's critique was savage, hilarious and sad: he put the incompetent writer on blast, he made some very funny (and biting) jokes and he exposed the deplorable state of modern media coverage.
It will be interesting to see the blowback from Olbermann's debut. Incompetent people do not like it one bit when their incompetence is exposed to the world, so Olbermann will catch a lot of flak, but I applaud his willingness and ability to call out people who are not doing their jobs properly; the incompetent media members give all media members a bad name--and they are stealing money as surely as the PED cheaters are stealing money from the fans. The sooner that the sports world rids itself of charlatans, cheaters and fools the better off we all will be.
Of course, Olbermann's new/old employer is as guilty as anyone else of the crimes against journalism that Olbermann so eloquently cited. It is interesting that Olbermann's show is based not at ESPN headquarters in Bristol, Connecticut but rather in New York City. His show is not being aired on the flagship channel but rather on ESPN2, the network that Olbermann helped launch more than two decades ago when he said, with gallows humor, "Welcome to the end of our careers." ESPN is keeping Olbermann at arm's distance from where the sausage is made, so to speak; don't look for ESPN's ubiquitous blowhard Skip Bayless as a guest on Olbermann's show anytime soon.
Catch Olbermann while you can, because I am not sure that his marriage with ESPN will last very long. Olbermann is intelligent and fearless, two characteristics that are not well appreciated in a monolithic bureaucracy. It seems inevitable that Olbermann will say the "wrong" thing and/or offend the "wrong" person but it will be fun seeing how many apple carts he can overturn before he is sent back into exile.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Two Rick Reilly Classics Culled From the Archives
If you are looking for great sportswriting today, you either have to sift through tons of chaff to find a grain or two of wheat or you have to dive into the archives. Rick Reilly used to be the featured back page columnist for Sports Illustrated, consistently producing weekly gems containing insight and wit. Now he has some kind of nebulous role at ESPN, a conglomerate that pays him a lot of money to look very awkward on camera during the postgame show on Monday Night Football. Although Reilly is criminally miscast as an on air personality, four years ago I noted that his literary fastball still hums--and I stand by that contention, based on his recent story about Dayton-based Hall of Fame baseball writer Hal McCoy.
I miss being able to just open up a new issue of SI and find Reilly's latest column. Here are two excellent Reilly pearls from 1998:
Speaking of Class to the Class of '98
Reilly offered some words of wisdom to athletes who were about to enter the professional ranks:
"Thank you, graduates. Please be seated. It's an honor to address the college athletes who are going on to the pros this year. If I may, I'd like to offer just a few pieces of advice."
"This is the career you picked. If you can't handle public scrutiny or deal with strangers graciously, become a taxidermist."
"Read everything written about you, good or bad. Then forget about it. No matter what you do, half the people will worship you and half will detest you. You can't fight it."
"One last thing. Remember when you were a kid? All you dreamed of was playing centerfield for the New York Yankees. Soon, you'll be there. Don't forget to tingle."
Never the Groom, Ever the Best Man
After shooting a 75 in the final round of the U.S. Open and tying for fifth place, Tom Lehman declared that there are things that are much more important than winning a golf tournament: "I think life would suck if you had to be an a------ to be the Open champion. I mean, if I die and all they write on my tombstone is TOM LEHMAN: A GREAT PROFESSIONAL GOLFER, then I'll have missed the whole point of life."
The best sportswriting is elevated by the spirit that animates one of the four quotes that serves as epigraphs for my websites; Tom Callahan--who wrote two of my favorite articles (The Best the Game Offers and Dr. J is Flying Away) about Julius Erving--provided a great credo for those who love to watch sports, for those who love to write about sports and for those who love to read great sportswriting: "It's not nuclear physics. You always remember that. But if you write about sports long enough, you're constantly coming back to the point that something buoys people; something makes you feel better for having been there. Something of value is at work there...Something is hallowed here. I think that something is excellence." As Reilly's story about Lehman demonstrates, "excellence" is not only about attaining victory on the field of play but also about attaining balance in one's life.
I miss being able to just open up a new issue of SI and find Reilly's latest column. Here are two excellent Reilly pearls from 1998:
Speaking of Class to the Class of '98
Reilly offered some words of wisdom to athletes who were about to enter the professional ranks:
"Thank you, graduates. Please be seated. It's an honor to address the college athletes who are going on to the pros this year. If I may, I'd like to offer just a few pieces of advice."
"This is the career you picked. If you can't handle public scrutiny or deal with strangers graciously, become a taxidermist."
"Read everything written about you, good or bad. Then forget about it. No matter what you do, half the people will worship you and half will detest you. You can't fight it."
"One last thing. Remember when you were a kid? All you dreamed of was playing centerfield for the New York Yankees. Soon, you'll be there. Don't forget to tingle."
Never the Groom, Ever the Best Man
After shooting a 75 in the final round of the U.S. Open and tying for fifth place, Tom Lehman declared that there are things that are much more important than winning a golf tournament: "I think life would suck if you had to be an a------ to be the Open champion. I mean, if I die and all they write on my tombstone is TOM LEHMAN: A GREAT PROFESSIONAL GOLFER, then I'll have missed the whole point of life."
The best sportswriting is elevated by the spirit that animates one of the four quotes that serves as epigraphs for my websites; Tom Callahan--who wrote two of my favorite articles (The Best the Game Offers and Dr. J is Flying Away) about Julius Erving--provided a great credo for those who love to watch sports, for those who love to write about sports and for those who love to read great sportswriting: "It's not nuclear physics. You always remember that. But if you write about sports long enough, you're constantly coming back to the point that something buoys people; something makes you feel better for having been there. Something of value is at work there...Something is hallowed here. I think that something is excellence." As Reilly's story about Lehman demonstrates, "excellence" is not only about attaining victory on the field of play but also about attaining balance in one's life.
Labels:
Hal McCoy,
Rick Reilly,
Tom Lehman
Monday, August 26, 2013
Frank Deford's Indelible Portrait of the Beautiful Friendship Between Muhammad Ali and Howard Bingham
"Only love matters to friends. If you have a friend you truly love,
whether you're Howard or Muhammad, well, then you can be a friend to the
world."--Frank Deford, writing about Muhammad Ali and Howard Bingham
Frank Deford and Gary Smith are two of the greatest craftsmen in sportswriting history. They are more than "just" sportswriters; they are artists who specialize in painting the big canvas, telling in-depth stories that transcend who won and who lost a game or a match. I cannot recall reading a poorly written story by either of them but some stories stand out--and one of them is The Best Of Friends, Deford's July 13, 1998 Sports Illustrated tribute to the loving friendship shared by Muhammad Ali and Howard Bingham. Aristotle called such a friendship "philia," characterized by mutual altruistic love--not a romantic love but a love shared by kindred spirits, a deep friendship in which each person can tell the other not what he wants to hear but what he needs to hear.
Ali may be the most famous man on Earth. Bingham made a name for himself as a first-rate, award-winning photographer. The two friends affectionately call each other "Bill." Deford explains by quoting Bernie Yuman, a mutual friend of Ali's and Bingham's: "You see, that's the sign of the most unqualified faith and love and trust. Bill. Simply calling each other Bill. It means, maybe you're a big-deal Muhammad Ali to the world, but that doesn't mean anything to me. To me, you're just Bill. And Howard became Bill too, because that was Muhammad saying, O.K., we're on even ground, so you're Bill too. And names don't mean anything, do they?"
Scroll back up, click on the link and read Deford's story. You won't regret it--and if you have a friend like that in your life, be very grateful.
Frank Deford and Gary Smith are two of the greatest craftsmen in sportswriting history. They are more than "just" sportswriters; they are artists who specialize in painting the big canvas, telling in-depth stories that transcend who won and who lost a game or a match. I cannot recall reading a poorly written story by either of them but some stories stand out--and one of them is The Best Of Friends, Deford's July 13, 1998 Sports Illustrated tribute to the loving friendship shared by Muhammad Ali and Howard Bingham. Aristotle called such a friendship "philia," characterized by mutual altruistic love--not a romantic love but a love shared by kindred spirits, a deep friendship in which each person can tell the other not what he wants to hear but what he needs to hear.
Ali may be the most famous man on Earth. Bingham made a name for himself as a first-rate, award-winning photographer. The two friends affectionately call each other "Bill." Deford explains by quoting Bernie Yuman, a mutual friend of Ali's and Bingham's: "You see, that's the sign of the most unqualified faith and love and trust. Bill. Simply calling each other Bill. It means, maybe you're a big-deal Muhammad Ali to the world, but that doesn't mean anything to me. To me, you're just Bill. And Howard became Bill too, because that was Muhammad saying, O.K., we're on even ground, so you're Bill too. And names don't mean anything, do they?"
Scroll back up, click on the link and read Deford's story. You won't regret it--and if you have a friend like that in your life, be very grateful.
Labels:
Frank Deford,
Gary Smith,
Howard Bingham,
Muhammad Ali
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
Nadal is Dominant Again
Rafael Nadal is unlikely to ever match Roger Federer's durability and grace but the frailties of Nadal's body and the brute force nature of his playing style do not diminish his greatness. Nadal defeated Federer 5-7, 6-4, 6-3 in the Western & Southern Open quarterfinals last weekend en route to claiming his ninth title in 12 ATP Tour events this year. This was Nadal's 26th ATP World Tour Masters title, extending his all-time record. Federer has won 21 such titles and Novak Djokovic, who currently is the top ranked player in the world, is third on the all-time list with 14. Nadal won the Rogers Cup event in Canada two weeks ago, so he has now
captured consecutive hard court titles in back to back weeks for the
first time in his career.
Federer rarely misses an event due to injury and his record of 23 straight Grand Slam semifinals appearances--more than doubling the standard previously set by Rod Laver and Ivan Lendl (10)--may never be broken. Federer's game is very aesthetically pleasing; when he is at his best, he seems to glide all over the court, flicking winners without breaking a sweat.
Nadal sometimes misses months at a time due to injuries and he prowls the court like a hungry predator hunting for food, not a ballet dancer, but Nadal has already surpassed Federer in several important categories. Nadal is the second youngest player to win 10 Grand Slam singles titles (trailing only Bjorn Borg). Nadal owns 12 Grand Slam singles titles in 35 appearances, a .343 winning percentage that is much better than Federer's .298 winning percentage. Nadal has won at least one Grand Slam title in nine straight years, eclipsing Borg's previous record of eight, so if he can string together four or five healthy years while maintaining that winning percentage then he could match Federer's record 17 Grand Slam singles titles.
Federer's durability, consistency and aesthetically pleasing game have inspired many commentators to crown him as the greatest player of all-time but such a designation unfairly ignores the accomplishments of Laver and Borg. Federer's supporters also have to disregard (or attempt to rationalize) Nadal's 21-10 head to head advantage over Federer. While the matchups Laver-Federer and Borg-Federer will only take place in the theater of imagination, there is irrefutable video evidence that Nadal bludgeoned Federer into submission nearly two dozen times; no such footage taints the greatest ever titles that have been unofficially awarded in other sports. It is erroneous to suggest that Nadal only started beating Federer after Federer's overall dominance waned. Nadal is younger than Federer but Nadal defeated Federer five of the first six times that they met, meaning that he took down Federer at the peak of Federer's game (and before Nadal had reached his prime). Federer fans may prefer to view Nadal's most recent triumph over Federer as a sign that Federer has declined but the reality is that Nadal's win is just a reaffirmation of a superiority that has been repeatedly and conclusively demonstrated for several years.
Federer rarely misses an event due to injury and his record of 23 straight Grand Slam semifinals appearances--more than doubling the standard previously set by Rod Laver and Ivan Lendl (10)--may never be broken. Federer's game is very aesthetically pleasing; when he is at his best, he seems to glide all over the court, flicking winners without breaking a sweat.
Nadal sometimes misses months at a time due to injuries and he prowls the court like a hungry predator hunting for food, not a ballet dancer, but Nadal has already surpassed Federer in several important categories. Nadal is the second youngest player to win 10 Grand Slam singles titles (trailing only Bjorn Borg). Nadal owns 12 Grand Slam singles titles in 35 appearances, a .343 winning percentage that is much better than Federer's .298 winning percentage. Nadal has won at least one Grand Slam title in nine straight years, eclipsing Borg's previous record of eight, so if he can string together four or five healthy years while maintaining that winning percentage then he could match Federer's record 17 Grand Slam singles titles.
Federer's durability, consistency and aesthetically pleasing game have inspired many commentators to crown him as the greatest player of all-time but such a designation unfairly ignores the accomplishments of Laver and Borg. Federer's supporters also have to disregard (or attempt to rationalize) Nadal's 21-10 head to head advantage over Federer. While the matchups Laver-Federer and Borg-Federer will only take place in the theater of imagination, there is irrefutable video evidence that Nadal bludgeoned Federer into submission nearly two dozen times; no such footage taints the greatest ever titles that have been unofficially awarded in other sports. It is erroneous to suggest that Nadal only started beating Federer after Federer's overall dominance waned. Nadal is younger than Federer but Nadal defeated Federer five of the first six times that they met, meaning that he took down Federer at the peak of Federer's game (and before Nadal had reached his prime). Federer fans may prefer to view Nadal's most recent triumph over Federer as a sign that Federer has declined but the reality is that Nadal's win is just a reaffirmation of a superiority that has been repeatedly and conclusively demonstrated for several years.
Labels:
Bjorn Borg,
Rafael Nadal,
Rod Laver,
Roger Federer,
tennis
Monday, August 5, 2013
Alex Rodriguez Should Have Received a Lifetime Ban a Long Time Ago
Major League Baseball has suspended Alex Rodriguez for over 200 games--the remainder of the 2013 regular season, the 2013 postseason, the entire 2014 regular season and the 2014 postseason--not only for using performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs) but for actively obstructing MLB's investigation of his illegal conduct. Here is part of MLB's official statement regarding Rodriguez:
Rodriguez's discipline under the Joint Drug Prevention and Treatment Program is based on his use and possession of numerous forms of prohibited performance-enhancing substances, including Testosterone and human Growth Hormone, over the course of multiple years. Rodriguez's discipline under the Basic Agreement is for attempting to cover-up his violations of the Program by engaging in a course of conduct intended to obstruct and frustrate the Office of the Commissioner's investigation. The suspension, which will become effective on Thursday, August 8th, will cover 211 Championship Season games and any 2013 Postseason games in which Rodriguez otherwise would have been eligible to play.
MLB Commissioner Bud Selig broke his arm patting himself on the back: "Despite the challenges this situation has created during a great season on the field, we pursued this matter because it was not only the right thing to do, but the only thing to do." Feel free to print out that statement, shred the paper and spread it over your yard, because it will serve as excellent fertilizer; those words would have sounded great if they had been backed up by action more than a decade ago but this is a case of partially closing the barn door after the PED-using foxes stole hundreds of millions of dollars and rewrote the MLB record book. Rodriguez should have been banned for life at least four years ago, after he admitted that he used steroids from 2001-03. Rodriguez posted the three highest single season home run totals of his career during those seasons--52, 57, 47--after not hitting more than 42 home runs in any of his five previous full seasons. He subsequently hit 48 home runs in 2005 and 54 home runs in 2007. Rodriguez won the AL MVP award in 2003, 2005 and 2007. All of those accomplishments are permanently tainted by his repeated use of illegal PEDs. Even if he had "only" used PEDs from 2001-03, Rodriguez' post-2003 numbers and awards would still be fraudulent because there is good reason to believe that PED usage confers advantages that last long after such usage is discontinued. He and all other PED users should be banned for life not just to provide the strongest possible deterrent to potential future PED users but also because anyone who has used PEDs has a long term advantage over clean players.
Instead, not only did MLB decline to suspend Rodriguez for life but his suspension will not start immediately, nor will he likely serve the full 211 game duration; he intends to appeal the punishment and he will be permitted to play until a ruling is made about that appeal. If Rodriguez hits 13 more home runs to tie Willie Mays' career total of 660 then Rodriguez will receive a $6 million bonus on top of the hundreds of millions of dollars that he already has been paid under false/illegal pretenses. Selig and MLB are doing the "right thing" only if you believe that criminals who defiled the sport's record book should be permitted to keep their ill gotten financial gains and their fraudulently obtained awards. Selig and MLB ignored the PED scourge until a Congressional investigation prompted them to take belated, tentative steps to clean up the game. Rodriguez is near the end of his career; he has already safely banked his money and placed his MVP trophies on his mantle. The sport's Hall of Fame voters will be dealing with the aftermath of Selig's Steroid Era for several decades. Selig trumpeting his own virtues for doing "the right thing" should surpass the old definition of chutzpah--the child who kills both of his parents and then asks the court for mercy because he is an orphan. MLB only knew about the Biogenesis PED users because a disgruntled Biogenesis employee released documentation to a small Miami newspaper; Selig is acting like he is Sherlock Holmes on the PED case but his investigative and policing acumen much more resembles that of Rosco P. Coltrane or Barney Fife.
As part of the same MLB investigation of Biogenesis that belatedly caught Rodriguez, 2011 NL MVP Ryan Braun--who had repeatedly and aggressively denied being a PED user--accepted a 65 game suspension. Braun's suspension began immediately because he reached an agreement with MLB and thus will not file an appeal. Rodriguez and Braun are just the tip of MLB's most recent PED iceberg; most of the media attention will be focused on them because they are big names but today MLB also issued 50 game suspensions to the following players: Nelson Cruz, Jhonny Peralta, Jesus Montero, Everth Cabrera, Francisco Cervelli, Antonio Bastardo, Jordany Valdespin, Fernando Martinez, Jordan Norberto, Fautino de los Santos, Cesar Puello and Sergio Escalona. The latter five players are minor leaguers but Cruz and Peralta are each two-time All-Stars and Cabrera joined them on the 2013 All-Star team. Cruz was on pace to set career-highs in home runs and RBI this season. MLB statistics and records have about as much meaning and credibility as the statistics and records posted by the steroid-fueled East German Olympic swimming teams during the height of the Cold War.
Further Reading
MLB Should Ban Disgraced Braun for Life
Biogenesis Scandal Demonstrates that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Still Have not Contained the PED Problem
Cabrera's Website is as Fake as His Artificially Enhanced Body
Cabrera Suspension Yet Another Sign that MLB's "Steroid Era" is not Over
Two Sports Ilustrated Cover Stories Detail the Sordid Legacy of Baseball's "Steroid Era"
The Baseball Hall of Fame Should Not Honor the Tainted Career of Ivan Rodriguez
The Ryan Braun MVP Fiasco Delivers Yet Another Black Eye to MLB
Rodriguez's discipline under the Joint Drug Prevention and Treatment Program is based on his use and possession of numerous forms of prohibited performance-enhancing substances, including Testosterone and human Growth Hormone, over the course of multiple years. Rodriguez's discipline under the Basic Agreement is for attempting to cover-up his violations of the Program by engaging in a course of conduct intended to obstruct and frustrate the Office of the Commissioner's investigation. The suspension, which will become effective on Thursday, August 8th, will cover 211 Championship Season games and any 2013 Postseason games in which Rodriguez otherwise would have been eligible to play.
MLB Commissioner Bud Selig broke his arm patting himself on the back: "Despite the challenges this situation has created during a great season on the field, we pursued this matter because it was not only the right thing to do, but the only thing to do." Feel free to print out that statement, shred the paper and spread it over your yard, because it will serve as excellent fertilizer; those words would have sounded great if they had been backed up by action more than a decade ago but this is a case of partially closing the barn door after the PED-using foxes stole hundreds of millions of dollars and rewrote the MLB record book. Rodriguez should have been banned for life at least four years ago, after he admitted that he used steroids from 2001-03. Rodriguez posted the three highest single season home run totals of his career during those seasons--52, 57, 47--after not hitting more than 42 home runs in any of his five previous full seasons. He subsequently hit 48 home runs in 2005 and 54 home runs in 2007. Rodriguez won the AL MVP award in 2003, 2005 and 2007. All of those accomplishments are permanently tainted by his repeated use of illegal PEDs. Even if he had "only" used PEDs from 2001-03, Rodriguez' post-2003 numbers and awards would still be fraudulent because there is good reason to believe that PED usage confers advantages that last long after such usage is discontinued. He and all other PED users should be banned for life not just to provide the strongest possible deterrent to potential future PED users but also because anyone who has used PEDs has a long term advantage over clean players.
Instead, not only did MLB decline to suspend Rodriguez for life but his suspension will not start immediately, nor will he likely serve the full 211 game duration; he intends to appeal the punishment and he will be permitted to play until a ruling is made about that appeal. If Rodriguez hits 13 more home runs to tie Willie Mays' career total of 660 then Rodriguez will receive a $6 million bonus on top of the hundreds of millions of dollars that he already has been paid under false/illegal pretenses. Selig and MLB are doing the "right thing" only if you believe that criminals who defiled the sport's record book should be permitted to keep their ill gotten financial gains and their fraudulently obtained awards. Selig and MLB ignored the PED scourge until a Congressional investigation prompted them to take belated, tentative steps to clean up the game. Rodriguez is near the end of his career; he has already safely banked his money and placed his MVP trophies on his mantle. The sport's Hall of Fame voters will be dealing with the aftermath of Selig's Steroid Era for several decades. Selig trumpeting his own virtues for doing "the right thing" should surpass the old definition of chutzpah--the child who kills both of his parents and then asks the court for mercy because he is an orphan. MLB only knew about the Biogenesis PED users because a disgruntled Biogenesis employee released documentation to a small Miami newspaper; Selig is acting like he is Sherlock Holmes on the PED case but his investigative and policing acumen much more resembles that of Rosco P. Coltrane or Barney Fife.
As part of the same MLB investigation of Biogenesis that belatedly caught Rodriguez, 2011 NL MVP Ryan Braun--who had repeatedly and aggressively denied being a PED user--accepted a 65 game suspension. Braun's suspension began immediately because he reached an agreement with MLB and thus will not file an appeal. Rodriguez and Braun are just the tip of MLB's most recent PED iceberg; most of the media attention will be focused on them because they are big names but today MLB also issued 50 game suspensions to the following players: Nelson Cruz, Jhonny Peralta, Jesus Montero, Everth Cabrera, Francisco Cervelli, Antonio Bastardo, Jordany Valdespin, Fernando Martinez, Jordan Norberto, Fautino de los Santos, Cesar Puello and Sergio Escalona. The latter five players are minor leaguers but Cruz and Peralta are each two-time All-Stars and Cabrera joined them on the 2013 All-Star team. Cruz was on pace to set career-highs in home runs and RBI this season. MLB statistics and records have about as much meaning and credibility as the statistics and records posted by the steroid-fueled East German Olympic swimming teams during the height of the Cold War.
Further Reading
MLB Should Ban Disgraced Braun for Life
Biogenesis Scandal Demonstrates that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Still Have not Contained the PED Problem
Cabrera's Website is as Fake as His Artificially Enhanced Body
Cabrera Suspension Yet Another Sign that MLB's "Steroid Era" is not Over
Two Sports Ilustrated Cover Stories Detail the Sordid Legacy of Baseball's "Steroid Era"
The Baseball Hall of Fame Should Not Honor the Tainted Career of Ivan Rodriguez
The Ryan Braun MVP Fiasco Delivers Yet Another Black Eye to MLB
Sunday, July 28, 2013
The Beauty, Wonder, Mystery and Horror of Chess, Part II
In The Beauty, Wonder, Mystery and Horror of Chess, I cited several examples of top level players making ghastly blunders, underscoring just how challenging and heartbreaking this sport can be. One more game can be added to that list; in round one of the ongoing Dortmund Sparkassen tournament, a world-class player overlooked a simple tactic.
Wang Hao, whose 2752 rating places him 15th in the world, had Black in this position against former World Champion Vladimir Kramnik (2784, fourth in the world):
Kramnik's extra pawn is not that meaningful because Hao's major pieces are so active. However, Hao played ...Ra2??, enabling Kramnik to pick off the wayward Rook with Qb8+ followed by Qb1+. This is a classic example of what Grandmaster John Nunn meant when he coined the phrase "Loose Pieces Drop Off." Strong players typically "overprotect" their pieces to prevent such "accidents" from happening.
This is not the first time that Hao lost a game because he overlooked a two move tactic; in the 2012 London Grand Prix he calmly defended a pawn down position, won back the lost pawn and was about to force a draw when he moved his King straight into a helpmate. After that loss, a stunned Hao said, "I can say nothing. It was a simple blunder. Something should have happened with my brain."
Chess can be brutal sometimes, requiring tremendous concentration during a game and often also requiring great resiliency after a game to overcome the psychological devastation resulting from one brief lapse that ruined several hours' worth of hard fought work.
Kramnik, who blundered into mate in one against Deep Fritz nearly seven years ago, can certainly empathize with Hao--as can anyone who has played serious tournament chess.
Wang Hao, whose 2752 rating places him 15th in the world, had Black in this position against former World Champion Vladimir Kramnik (2784, fourth in the world):
Kramnik's extra pawn is not that meaningful because Hao's major pieces are so active. However, Hao played ...Ra2??, enabling Kramnik to pick off the wayward Rook with Qb8+ followed by Qb1+. This is a classic example of what Grandmaster John Nunn meant when he coined the phrase "Loose Pieces Drop Off." Strong players typically "overprotect" their pieces to prevent such "accidents" from happening.
This is not the first time that Hao lost a game because he overlooked a two move tactic; in the 2012 London Grand Prix he calmly defended a pawn down position, won back the lost pawn and was about to force a draw when he moved his King straight into a helpmate. After that loss, a stunned Hao said, "I can say nothing. It was a simple blunder. Something should have happened with my brain."
Chess can be brutal sometimes, requiring tremendous concentration during a game and often also requiring great resiliency after a game to overcome the psychological devastation resulting from one brief lapse that ruined several hours' worth of hard fought work.
Kramnik, who blundered into mate in one against Deep Fritz nearly seven years ago, can certainly empathize with Hao--as can anyone who has played serious tournament chess.
Labels:
chess,
Vladimir Kramnik,
Wang Hao
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Baseball Vision and Chess Vision Function in Very Similar Ways
Superficially it may seem that hitting a baseball and finding the best chess move are completely different activities mentally, psychologically and physically but in fact baseball vision and chess vision are structured the same way--and to a large extent they are both learned skills, not natural talents. A fascinating Sports Illustrated article by David Epstein titled WHY PUJOLS CAN'T (AND A-ROD WOULDN'T) TOUCH THIS PITCH explains that elite performers--whether they are baseball hitters or chess Grandmasters--do not have better vision or quicker reaction times than regular people; in fact, Albert Pujols--one of the greatest hitters of all-time--ranked on the 66th percentile for reaction time when he was tested by researchers from Washington University in St. Louis. So why can Pujols hit Major League fastballs so effectively and why is he not able to hit the pitch mentioned in the article's title, a softball thrown by Jennie Finch?
The answers to those two questions have nothing to do with reaction time and everything to do with how the brain "chunks" data. Epstein explains:
For four decades, scientists have been constructing a picture of how elite athletes intercept speeding objects. The intuitive explanation is that the Albert Pujolses and Roger Federers of the world simply have the genetic gift of quicker reflexes, which give them more time to react to the ball. Except that isn't true.
When people are tested for their simple reaction time--how fast they can press a button in response to a light--most of them, whether they are teachers, lawyers or pro athletes, take around 200 milliseconds, or one fifth of a second. That is about the minimum time it takes for the retina at the back of the human eye to receive information, for that information to be conveyed across synapses--the gaps between neurons, each of which takes a few milliseconds to cross--to the primary visual cortex in the back of the brain, and for the brain to send a message to the spinal cord that puts the muscles in motion. All this happens in the blink of an eye. (It takes 150 milliseconds just to execute a blink when a light is shone in your face.) But as quick as 200 milliseconds is, in the realm of 100-mph baseball pitches and 140-mph tennis serves, it is far too slow.
A typical major league fastball travels about 10 feet in just the 75 milliseconds that it takes for sensory cells in the retina to confirm that a baseball is in view and for information about the flight path and velocity of the ball to be relayed to the brain. The entire flight of the baseball from the pitcher's hand to the plate takes just 400 milliseconds. And because it takes half that time merely to initiate muscular action, a major league batter has to know where he is swinging shortly after the ball leaves the pitcher's hand--well before it's even halfway to the plate.
The window for actually making contact with the ball, when it is in reach of the bat, is five milliseconds, and because the angle of the ball relative to the hitter's eye changes so rapidly as the ball gets closer to the plate, the advice to "keep your eye on the ball" is impossible to follow. Humans don't have a visual system fast enough to track the ball all the way in. A batter could just as well close his eyes once the ball is halfway to home plate. Given the speed of the pitch and the limitations of our physiology, it seems to be a miracle that anybody hits the ball at all.
When Janet Starkes tested the visual perception abilities of elite Canadian volleyball players and novice Canadian volleyball players by showing them still photos for a fraction of a second and asking them if a ball was visible, she made a fascinating discovery: the elite players could tell at a glance whether or not a ball was in a picture, while the novice players could not. She later tested field hockey players and got the same result. Epstein writes:
Not only could elite field hockey players tell in less time than the blink of an eye whether or not a ball was in the frame, but they could also accurately reconstruct the playing field. This held true among basketball and soccer players too. It was as if every elite athlete miraculously had a photographic memory when it came to her sport.
The question, then, is how important these perceptual abilities are to top athletes--and whether they are the result of genetic gifts. And there's no better place to look for an answer than in a type of competition in which the action is slow, deliberate and devoid of the constraints of muscle and sinew.
That brings us straight to chess and the famous study conducted by Adriaan de Groot in the 1940s. De Groot, a Dutch psychologist and chess Master, showed various chess positions from actual games to players ranging in strength from amateur to elite Grandmaster. Grandmasters had instant, almost total recall of the chess positions, while the weaker players had correspondingly less accurate recall--but when William G. Chase and Herbert A. Simon repeated de Groot's experiment in 1973 they also showed the players random positions of pieces that could not occur in a real game and they made an important discovery: the Grandmasters could not remember the random positions any better than the amateurs could. The critical difference between a Grandmaster's recall and an amateur's recall is that the Grandmaster "chunks" information: for instance, instead of seeing a Bishop and three pawns, a Grandmaster sees the formation known as a "fianchettoed Bishop." Similarly, a great hitter is not actually watching a pitched ball--as mentioned above, the human visual system is not capable of tracking the ball in real time--but rather he is picking up subtle cues from the pitcher's body such as shoulder position and hand location. Starkes' elite volleyball players could quickly find the ball based on viewing the picture as an organic whole instead of many disparate parts--and that is exactly how a Grandmaster views a chessboard.
Epstein writes, "Studies that track the eye movements of experienced performers, whether chess players, pianists, surgeons or athletes, have found that as they gain experience, they are quicker to sift through visual information and separate the wheat from the chaff. Experts swiftly discard irrelevant input and cut to the data that are most important in determining their next move. While novices dwell on individual pieces or players, experts focus more attention on spaces between pieces or players that are relevant to the unifying relationship of parts in the whole."
This ability to see "the unifying relationship of parts in the whole" is crucial to the success of a great tennis player like Roger Federer, a great boxer like Muhammad Ali and a great basketball rebounder like Dennis Rodman; a novice waits to see the tennis ball, the incoming punch or the basketball hitting the rim but an expert takes in the whole picture at once by deciphering visual cues learned from hours and hours of practice. I know from my personal experience playing pickup basketball that some players just have an inexplicable knack to go get the ball, a knack that is often not the product of being the quickest player, the strongest player or the best jumper. Similarly, my experience as an Expert level chess player is that I can "see" patterns and tactics quicker than the vast majority of chess players but that Masters and Grandmasters "see" patterns and tactics even quicker; I have a particularly vivid memory of watching a young Hikaru Nakamura--who became the youngest master in U.S. history, a record that has since been broken--glance at an endgame position that had puzzled two strong Masters for the better part of a half hour and almost instantly "see" the best sequence of moves for both sides. There is talent involved in such wizardry but I think that many people underestimate just how much hard work is involved as well.
So, if Pujols is a Grandmaster of seeing baseball pitches then why can't he hit Finch's softball pitches? Epstein notes, "Since Pujols had no mental database of Finch's body movements, her pitch tendencies or even the spin of a softball, he could not predict what was coming, and he was left reacting at the last moment...It is only by recognizing body cues and patterns unconsciously that Pujols can determine whether or not he should swing at a ball when it has barely left the pitcher's hand." Pujols' advantage on a baseball diamond is not physical or genetic as much as it is the product of years of training his mind and his body to perform one specific task; facing Finch is as perplexing to him as it was for a Grandmaster to try to memorize a nonsensical chess position that cannot be "chunked" into logical constituent parts.
Epstein concludes, "...the perceptual sports skills that separate experts from dilettantes are learned, or downloaded (like software), through practice. They don't come standard as part of the human machine. That fact helped spawn the best-known theory in modern sports expertise, and one that has no place for genes."
The theory in question is referred to variously as the "10,000 hour rule" or "deliberate practice" and it suggests that mastery of a sport, a musical instrument or almost any other endeavor is closely linked to putting in 10,000 hours of practice to hone one's perception and technique.
In Basketball, Chess and Boxing, Part II, I quoted Philip E. Ross, who wrote in Scientific American about the importance of this kind of deliberate practice: "To accumulate this body of structured knowledge, Grandmasters typically engage in years of effortful study, continually tackling challenges that lie just beyond their competence. The top performers in music, mathematics and sports appear to gain their expertise in the same way, motivated by competition and the joy of victory."
Does this mean that anyone can become a Major League baseball player or a Grandmaster? Of course not. Many skills and attributes are necessary to reach the highest level in any field. However, it does mean that the seemingly supernatural way that a baseball player quickly "sees" a pitch and that a Grandmaster instantly "sees" a winning move is not in fact supernatural at all but rather the product of hard work. We cannot all become pro baseball players or Grandmasters but we all can become better at what we most love to do if we are willing to work very hard at it; that should provide motivation to keep trying to reach whatever your potential is, as opposed to lamenting that you may not be able to become the absolute best at something: Albert Pujols and Hikaru Nakamura worked very hard to fulfill their respective potentials and they set great examples for all of us to follow: focus on the learning process and the work instead of being preoccupied with possible outcomes.
The answers to those two questions have nothing to do with reaction time and everything to do with how the brain "chunks" data. Epstein explains:
For four decades, scientists have been constructing a picture of how elite athletes intercept speeding objects. The intuitive explanation is that the Albert Pujolses and Roger Federers of the world simply have the genetic gift of quicker reflexes, which give them more time to react to the ball. Except that isn't true.
When people are tested for their simple reaction time--how fast they can press a button in response to a light--most of them, whether they are teachers, lawyers or pro athletes, take around 200 milliseconds, or one fifth of a second. That is about the minimum time it takes for the retina at the back of the human eye to receive information, for that information to be conveyed across synapses--the gaps between neurons, each of which takes a few milliseconds to cross--to the primary visual cortex in the back of the brain, and for the brain to send a message to the spinal cord that puts the muscles in motion. All this happens in the blink of an eye. (It takes 150 milliseconds just to execute a blink when a light is shone in your face.) But as quick as 200 milliseconds is, in the realm of 100-mph baseball pitches and 140-mph tennis serves, it is far too slow.
A typical major league fastball travels about 10 feet in just the 75 milliseconds that it takes for sensory cells in the retina to confirm that a baseball is in view and for information about the flight path and velocity of the ball to be relayed to the brain. The entire flight of the baseball from the pitcher's hand to the plate takes just 400 milliseconds. And because it takes half that time merely to initiate muscular action, a major league batter has to know where he is swinging shortly after the ball leaves the pitcher's hand--well before it's even halfway to the plate.
The window for actually making contact with the ball, when it is in reach of the bat, is five milliseconds, and because the angle of the ball relative to the hitter's eye changes so rapidly as the ball gets closer to the plate, the advice to "keep your eye on the ball" is impossible to follow. Humans don't have a visual system fast enough to track the ball all the way in. A batter could just as well close his eyes once the ball is halfway to home plate. Given the speed of the pitch and the limitations of our physiology, it seems to be a miracle that anybody hits the ball at all.
When Janet Starkes tested the visual perception abilities of elite Canadian volleyball players and novice Canadian volleyball players by showing them still photos for a fraction of a second and asking them if a ball was visible, she made a fascinating discovery: the elite players could tell at a glance whether or not a ball was in a picture, while the novice players could not. She later tested field hockey players and got the same result. Epstein writes:
Not only could elite field hockey players tell in less time than the blink of an eye whether or not a ball was in the frame, but they could also accurately reconstruct the playing field. This held true among basketball and soccer players too. It was as if every elite athlete miraculously had a photographic memory when it came to her sport.
The question, then, is how important these perceptual abilities are to top athletes--and whether they are the result of genetic gifts. And there's no better place to look for an answer than in a type of competition in which the action is slow, deliberate and devoid of the constraints of muscle and sinew.
That brings us straight to chess and the famous study conducted by Adriaan de Groot in the 1940s. De Groot, a Dutch psychologist and chess Master, showed various chess positions from actual games to players ranging in strength from amateur to elite Grandmaster. Grandmasters had instant, almost total recall of the chess positions, while the weaker players had correspondingly less accurate recall--but when William G. Chase and Herbert A. Simon repeated de Groot's experiment in 1973 they also showed the players random positions of pieces that could not occur in a real game and they made an important discovery: the Grandmasters could not remember the random positions any better than the amateurs could. The critical difference between a Grandmaster's recall and an amateur's recall is that the Grandmaster "chunks" information: for instance, instead of seeing a Bishop and three pawns, a Grandmaster sees the formation known as a "fianchettoed Bishop." Similarly, a great hitter is not actually watching a pitched ball--as mentioned above, the human visual system is not capable of tracking the ball in real time--but rather he is picking up subtle cues from the pitcher's body such as shoulder position and hand location. Starkes' elite volleyball players could quickly find the ball based on viewing the picture as an organic whole instead of many disparate parts--and that is exactly how a Grandmaster views a chessboard.
Epstein writes, "Studies that track the eye movements of experienced performers, whether chess players, pianists, surgeons or athletes, have found that as they gain experience, they are quicker to sift through visual information and separate the wheat from the chaff. Experts swiftly discard irrelevant input and cut to the data that are most important in determining their next move. While novices dwell on individual pieces or players, experts focus more attention on spaces between pieces or players that are relevant to the unifying relationship of parts in the whole."
This ability to see "the unifying relationship of parts in the whole" is crucial to the success of a great tennis player like Roger Federer, a great boxer like Muhammad Ali and a great basketball rebounder like Dennis Rodman; a novice waits to see the tennis ball, the incoming punch or the basketball hitting the rim but an expert takes in the whole picture at once by deciphering visual cues learned from hours and hours of practice. I know from my personal experience playing pickup basketball that some players just have an inexplicable knack to go get the ball, a knack that is often not the product of being the quickest player, the strongest player or the best jumper. Similarly, my experience as an Expert level chess player is that I can "see" patterns and tactics quicker than the vast majority of chess players but that Masters and Grandmasters "see" patterns and tactics even quicker; I have a particularly vivid memory of watching a young Hikaru Nakamura--who became the youngest master in U.S. history, a record that has since been broken--glance at an endgame position that had puzzled two strong Masters for the better part of a half hour and almost instantly "see" the best sequence of moves for both sides. There is talent involved in such wizardry but I think that many people underestimate just how much hard work is involved as well.
So, if Pujols is a Grandmaster of seeing baseball pitches then why can't he hit Finch's softball pitches? Epstein notes, "Since Pujols had no mental database of Finch's body movements, her pitch tendencies or even the spin of a softball, he could not predict what was coming, and he was left reacting at the last moment...It is only by recognizing body cues and patterns unconsciously that Pujols can determine whether or not he should swing at a ball when it has barely left the pitcher's hand." Pujols' advantage on a baseball diamond is not physical or genetic as much as it is the product of years of training his mind and his body to perform one specific task; facing Finch is as perplexing to him as it was for a Grandmaster to try to memorize a nonsensical chess position that cannot be "chunked" into logical constituent parts.
Epstein concludes, "...the perceptual sports skills that separate experts from dilettantes are learned, or downloaded (like software), through practice. They don't come standard as part of the human machine. That fact helped spawn the best-known theory in modern sports expertise, and one that has no place for genes."
The theory in question is referred to variously as the "10,000 hour rule" or "deliberate practice" and it suggests that mastery of a sport, a musical instrument or almost any other endeavor is closely linked to putting in 10,000 hours of practice to hone one's perception and technique.
In Basketball, Chess and Boxing, Part II, I quoted Philip E. Ross, who wrote in Scientific American about the importance of this kind of deliberate practice: "To accumulate this body of structured knowledge, Grandmasters typically engage in years of effortful study, continually tackling challenges that lie just beyond their competence. The top performers in music, mathematics and sports appear to gain their expertise in the same way, motivated by competition and the joy of victory."
Does this mean that anyone can become a Major League baseball player or a Grandmaster? Of course not. Many skills and attributes are necessary to reach the highest level in any field. However, it does mean that the seemingly supernatural way that a baseball player quickly "sees" a pitch and that a Grandmaster instantly "sees" a winning move is not in fact supernatural at all but rather the product of hard work. We cannot all become pro baseball players or Grandmasters but we all can become better at what we most love to do if we are willing to work very hard at it; that should provide motivation to keep trying to reach whatever your potential is, as opposed to lamenting that you may not be able to become the absolute best at something: Albert Pujols and Hikaru Nakamura worked very hard to fulfill their respective potentials and they set great examples for all of us to follow: focus on the learning process and the work instead of being preoccupied with possible outcomes.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
MLB Should Ban Disgraced Braun for Life
Liar. Cheater. Thief. That is who Ryan Braun is and that is how he should always be remembered.
Ryan Braun looked into the cameras and lied--boldly, repeatedly and defiantly. He swore up and down that he had never taken performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs). On February 24, 2012 he declared, "I would bet my life that this substance never entered my body at any point." Everyone Braun lied to, cheated and stole from would like to cash in that bet. Ryan also self-righteously said, "I tried to handle the entire situation with honor, with integrity, with class, with dignity and with professionalism because that's who I am and that's how I've always lived my life. If I had done this intentionally or unintentionally I'd be the first one to step up and say I did it." What a sad, twisted, narcissistic, ego-maniacal joke--only no one who has any sense or decency is laughing.
Ryan Braun cheated the game, himself, his teammates, the fans and opposing players. He participated in an extensive, illegal performance-enhancing drug program with the express purpose of outdoing honest competitors and being paid more money than his natural talents are worth.
Ryan Braun stole millions of dollars. He is no different from a bank robber who wears a ski mask and waves a gun. If Braun had not artificially enhanced his performance then he almost certainly would have made much less money, money that would have been paid to players who acquired their skills honestly and who posted legitimate statistics.
For some inexplicable reason, it suits the ideological perspective of certain economists and/or "stat gurus" to assert that steroids do not work but even if one disregards the scientific evidence that steroids and other PEDs work just apply Occam's Razor: why would so many elite athletes go to such lengths to take illegal drugs if these drugs did not significantly improve their performance and thus their earning power? That should be an argument that an economist can understand.
It should not be necessary to mention this but--for the benefit of anyone who may not know--since 1991 it has been against federal law to use steroids without a valid prescription. This is most assuredly NOT just an internal matter to be handled privately by various sports leagues; the PED cheaters are criminals.
Major League Baseball and Braun agreed upon a 65 game suspension that will cost Braun $3.85 million of his $9.61 million 2013 salary--but Braun gets to keep his tainted 2011 National League MVP and the tens of millions of dollars he has already stolen and he will still receive more than $100 million in salary from 2014 to 2021. MLB's settlement agreement with Braun is a sell out; it neither adequately punishes Braun for his egregious offense nor does it provide much of a deterrent for possible future offenders. PED cheaters now know that even if they get caught red-handed they can still make more than $100 million.
Rob Manfred, Executive Vice President, Economics & League Affairs for Major League Baseball, issued this ludicrous statement: "We commend Ryan Braun for taking responsibility for his past actions. We all agree that it is in the best interests of the game to resolve this matter. When Ryan returns, we look forward to him making positive contributions to Major League Baseball, both on and off the field."
What Manfred should have said is something like this: "Major League Baseball will not tolerate it when players cheat the game and cheat the fans. We will act aggressively to prevent such conduct, to punish it severely when it is discovered and to strip any PED offenders of the money and awards that they received under false pretenses. There is no place in our game for cheaters."
The only surprising thing about this is that MLB did not ask Braun what day/time he would like for his suspension to begin. Perhaps there is a certain road trip he would like to make and some cities he would like to visit before he sits out the rest of the season? Actually, since so much of what MLB does is shrouded in secrecy, we cannot be sure that MLB did not in fact let Braun choose when his suspension would start.
MLB Commissioner Bud Selig has repeatedly fumbled the PED ball and now that ball has become a massive avalanche that has destroyed the sport's record book and its credibility. The current so-called crackdown is a farce. MLB should have stripped Braun of all of his honors, awards and records, banned him for life and taken every possible measure to force him to repay his ill-gotten salary.
Until MLB completely disassociates itself from Ryan Braun and all of the other PED liars, cheaters and thieves, the sport is a joke and a sham that cannot be taken seriously by anyone who values honest and fair competition.
Further Reading
Biogenesis Scandal Demonstrates that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Still Have not Contained the PED Problem
Cabrera's Website is as Fake as His Artificially Enhanced Body
Cabrera Suspension Yet Another Sign that MLB's "Steroid Era" is not Over
Two Sports Ilustrated Cover Stories Detail the Sordid Legacy of Baseball's "Steroid Era"
The Baseball Hall of Fame Should Not Honor the Tainted Career of Ivan Rodriguez
The Ryan Braun MVP Fiasco Delivers Yet Another Black Eye to MLB
Ryan Braun looked into the cameras and lied--boldly, repeatedly and defiantly. He swore up and down that he had never taken performance-enhancing drugs (PEDs). On February 24, 2012 he declared, "I would bet my life that this substance never entered my body at any point." Everyone Braun lied to, cheated and stole from would like to cash in that bet. Ryan also self-righteously said, "I tried to handle the entire situation with honor, with integrity, with class, with dignity and with professionalism because that's who I am and that's how I've always lived my life. If I had done this intentionally or unintentionally I'd be the first one to step up and say I did it." What a sad, twisted, narcissistic, ego-maniacal joke--only no one who has any sense or decency is laughing.
Ryan Braun cheated the game, himself, his teammates, the fans and opposing players. He participated in an extensive, illegal performance-enhancing drug program with the express purpose of outdoing honest competitors and being paid more money than his natural talents are worth.
Ryan Braun stole millions of dollars. He is no different from a bank robber who wears a ski mask and waves a gun. If Braun had not artificially enhanced his performance then he almost certainly would have made much less money, money that would have been paid to players who acquired their skills honestly and who posted legitimate statistics.
For some inexplicable reason, it suits the ideological perspective of certain economists and/or "stat gurus" to assert that steroids do not work but even if one disregards the scientific evidence that steroids and other PEDs work just apply Occam's Razor: why would so many elite athletes go to such lengths to take illegal drugs if these drugs did not significantly improve their performance and thus their earning power? That should be an argument that an economist can understand.
It should not be necessary to mention this but--for the benefit of anyone who may not know--since 1991 it has been against federal law to use steroids without a valid prescription. This is most assuredly NOT just an internal matter to be handled privately by various sports leagues; the PED cheaters are criminals.
Major League Baseball and Braun agreed upon a 65 game suspension that will cost Braun $3.85 million of his $9.61 million 2013 salary--but Braun gets to keep his tainted 2011 National League MVP and the tens of millions of dollars he has already stolen and he will still receive more than $100 million in salary from 2014 to 2021. MLB's settlement agreement with Braun is a sell out; it neither adequately punishes Braun for his egregious offense nor does it provide much of a deterrent for possible future offenders. PED cheaters now know that even if they get caught red-handed they can still make more than $100 million.
Rob Manfred, Executive Vice President, Economics & League Affairs for Major League Baseball, issued this ludicrous statement: "We commend Ryan Braun for taking responsibility for his past actions. We all agree that it is in the best interests of the game to resolve this matter. When Ryan returns, we look forward to him making positive contributions to Major League Baseball, both on and off the field."
What Manfred should have said is something like this: "Major League Baseball will not tolerate it when players cheat the game and cheat the fans. We will act aggressively to prevent such conduct, to punish it severely when it is discovered and to strip any PED offenders of the money and awards that they received under false pretenses. There is no place in our game for cheaters."
The only surprising thing about this is that MLB did not ask Braun what day/time he would like for his suspension to begin. Perhaps there is a certain road trip he would like to make and some cities he would like to visit before he sits out the rest of the season? Actually, since so much of what MLB does is shrouded in secrecy, we cannot be sure that MLB did not in fact let Braun choose when his suspension would start.
MLB Commissioner Bud Selig has repeatedly fumbled the PED ball and now that ball has become a massive avalanche that has destroyed the sport's record book and its credibility. The current so-called crackdown is a farce. MLB should have stripped Braun of all of his honors, awards and records, banned him for life and taken every possible measure to force him to repay his ill-gotten salary.
Until MLB completely disassociates itself from Ryan Braun and all of the other PED liars, cheaters and thieves, the sport is a joke and a sham that cannot be taken seriously by anyone who values honest and fair competition.
Further Reading
Biogenesis Scandal Demonstrates that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Still Have not Contained the PED Problem
Cabrera's Website is as Fake as His Artificially Enhanced Body
Cabrera Suspension Yet Another Sign that MLB's "Steroid Era" is not Over
Two Sports Ilustrated Cover Stories Detail the Sordid Legacy of Baseball's "Steroid Era"
The Baseball Hall of Fame Should Not Honor the Tainted Career of Ivan Rodriguez
The Ryan Braun MVP Fiasco Delivers Yet Another Black Eye to MLB
Labels:
Bud Selig,
MLB,
Performance-Enhancing Drugs,
Ryan Braun
Sunday, July 21, 2013
The Best Thing About Sports: The Ever Changing, Unpredictable Narratives
We thought that we knew the story. Mike Tyson was an unstoppable force, a knockout machine so fearsome that he seemed to win many of his fights before they even began as his terrified opponents stared at him through saucer-sized, fearful eyes. Then Buster Douglas came along and Tyson looked less like an all-time great and more like the neighborhood bully who finally met someone who was not afraid of him.
We thought that we knew the story. John Elway and the Denver Broncos could never win the big one. Elway had a rocket arm and nimble feet but he was destined to come up short in the Super Bowl. Then Terrell Davis arrived, Coach Mike Shanahan tinkered with the offense and Elway won back to back Super Bowls as a stirring coda to a Hall of Fame career.
We thought that we knew the story. The 2007 New England Patriots seemed to be the ultimate team of destiny, a squad that had recently won three Super Bowls in four years, had just completed the first 16-0 regular season in NFL history and was now poised to finish 19-0 by winning a fourth Super Bowl. Then Eli Manning and the New York Giants pulled off perhaps the biggest upset in Super Bowl history.
We thought that we knew the story. Tiger Woods was destined to shatter Jack Nicklaus' record for major championships, while Phil Mickelson was a talented but flawed player whose reckless approach would inevitably lead to thrilling moments followed by baffling choke jobs. The same thing was true of Woods that used to be said of Nicklaus: He knew that he was the best, his opponents knew that he was the best and he knew that his opponents knew. Woods never came from behind to win a major championship but he never needed to come from behind because he usually had lapped the field by Sunday. Chess Grandmasters once spoke of "Fischer Fear," referring to the way that Bobby Fischer intimidated other great players to such an extent that those players performed far below their normal standard against him; for many years it seemed like golf's best players suffered from "Woods Fear," collapsing down the stretch of tournaments at the mere sight of Woods prowling the back nine. Then Woods' personal life crashed--literally and figuratively--and he struggled to regain his former dominance; Woods may still believe that he is the best (or he may doubt that at some level, which could be part of his problem) but it is clear that his competitors no longer suffer from "Woods Fear."
Meanwhile, Mickelson--whose personal life seems to be the steady and grounded opposite of his free-swinging playing style--has figured out how to seize the big moments on Sunday at major championships as opposed to shrinking from those moments. Mickelson has won more majors since 2004 (five) than any golfer except for Woods (six) and he seems to be getting better with age, while Woods' game does not seem to be aging well; Woods used to be the ultimate finisher but in his past several majors he has started strongly only to falter down the stretch and it is unclear if the problem is physical, mental or some combination of both factors. It is a tribute to Woods' former greatness that despite his recent drought he still has won more majors in the past nine years than anyone else (and more than Mickelson has won in his entire career) but unless Woods undergoes some kind of revival the narrative of his career--and of his rivalry with Mickelson--will be much different than anyone could have imagined as recently as that fateful Thanksgiving weekend in 2009 when Woods' private life became a source of public mockery and derision.
The great thing about sports is that competition is the ultimate unscripted drama. We may think that we know the characters and we may think that we know the stories but people can change their lives and write new, previously unimaginable tales.
We thought that we knew the story. John Elway and the Denver Broncos could never win the big one. Elway had a rocket arm and nimble feet but he was destined to come up short in the Super Bowl. Then Terrell Davis arrived, Coach Mike Shanahan tinkered with the offense and Elway won back to back Super Bowls as a stirring coda to a Hall of Fame career.
We thought that we knew the story. The 2007 New England Patriots seemed to be the ultimate team of destiny, a squad that had recently won three Super Bowls in four years, had just completed the first 16-0 regular season in NFL history and was now poised to finish 19-0 by winning a fourth Super Bowl. Then Eli Manning and the New York Giants pulled off perhaps the biggest upset in Super Bowl history.
We thought that we knew the story. Tiger Woods was destined to shatter Jack Nicklaus' record for major championships, while Phil Mickelson was a talented but flawed player whose reckless approach would inevitably lead to thrilling moments followed by baffling choke jobs. The same thing was true of Woods that used to be said of Nicklaus: He knew that he was the best, his opponents knew that he was the best and he knew that his opponents knew. Woods never came from behind to win a major championship but he never needed to come from behind because he usually had lapped the field by Sunday. Chess Grandmasters once spoke of "Fischer Fear," referring to the way that Bobby Fischer intimidated other great players to such an extent that those players performed far below their normal standard against him; for many years it seemed like golf's best players suffered from "Woods Fear," collapsing down the stretch of tournaments at the mere sight of Woods prowling the back nine. Then Woods' personal life crashed--literally and figuratively--and he struggled to regain his former dominance; Woods may still believe that he is the best (or he may doubt that at some level, which could be part of his problem) but it is clear that his competitors no longer suffer from "Woods Fear."
Meanwhile, Mickelson--whose personal life seems to be the steady and grounded opposite of his free-swinging playing style--has figured out how to seize the big moments on Sunday at major championships as opposed to shrinking from those moments. Mickelson has won more majors since 2004 (five) than any golfer except for Woods (six) and he seems to be getting better with age, while Woods' game does not seem to be aging well; Woods used to be the ultimate finisher but in his past several majors he has started strongly only to falter down the stretch and it is unclear if the problem is physical, mental or some combination of both factors. It is a tribute to Woods' former greatness that despite his recent drought he still has won more majors in the past nine years than anyone else (and more than Mickelson has won in his entire career) but unless Woods undergoes some kind of revival the narrative of his career--and of his rivalry with Mickelson--will be much different than anyone could have imagined as recently as that fateful Thanksgiving weekend in 2009 when Woods' private life became a source of public mockery and derision.
The great thing about sports is that competition is the ultimate unscripted drama. We may think that we know the characters and we may think that we know the stories but people can change their lives and write new, previously unimaginable tales.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Chess and Religion
Although the chess world includes a broad cross section of races, nationalities and creeds, my subjective impression is that a large number--if not the majority--of chess players are not religious; the tournament schedule does not make it easy for one to regularly attend religious services, though it is of course possible for dedicated people to do so by taking byes or, at the professional level, making suitable arrangements with the organizer.
It is well known that people of Jewish ancestry have been disproportionately represented at the highest levels of chess but very few of those great Jewish chess players actively practiced Judaism. Sammy Reshevsky is the most famous and accomplished Orthodox Jewish chess player, while in more recent times Boris Gulko and Leonid Yudasin reached Grandmaster status while also maintaining traditional Jewish observances.
In the 1940s, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, the son-in-law of the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn), conducted monthly public talks in Crown Heights during which he would explain traditional Jewish concepts in a way that would make these ideas relevant and comprehensible to a lay audience. Sometimes he would connect an audience member's name to that person's job and to certain spiritual/mystical ideas. Reshevsky attended one of these gatherings and Rabbi Menachem Mendel offered this fascinating perspective about the meaning of chess:
It is well known that people of Jewish ancestry have been disproportionately represented at the highest levels of chess but very few of those great Jewish chess players actively practiced Judaism. Sammy Reshevsky is the most famous and accomplished Orthodox Jewish chess player, while in more recent times Boris Gulko and Leonid Yudasin reached Grandmaster status while also maintaining traditional Jewish observances.
In the 1940s, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneersohn, the son-in-law of the Lubavitcher Rebbe (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn), conducted monthly public talks in Crown Heights during which he would explain traditional Jewish concepts in a way that would make these ideas relevant and comprehensible to a lay audience. Sometimes he would connect an audience member's name to that person's job and to certain spiritual/mystical ideas. Reshevsky attended one of these gatherings and Rabbi Menachem Mendel offered this fascinating perspective about the meaning of chess:
The king is the most valuable piece on the chessboard. Protecting the king and attacking the pieces which threaten the king's "dominion" is the objective of the game, and the goal of all the pieces at the king's disposal.
The same thing is true with all of created reality. The king represents the King of the Universe. When G‑d created the world, He had an end-goal in mind--that this G‑d-denying reality be made into a place where His dominion is known. Just as all of the pieces in the chess game exist only to protect the king and further his goal, all components of creation only exists in order to fulfill this deepest desire of the King of kings.
While the king represents the transcendent quality of G‑d, the queen represents malchut d'Atzilut, G‑d's immanent quality. This quality of G‑d generates the rest of the spiritual hierarchy, including all the angels and souls.
The officers--rooks, bishops and knights--represent the angels. They inhabit the spiritual worlds and channel Divine energy to the worlds below and are imbued with great powers.
And on the lowest rung are the pawns, which represent the souls of Jews as they are embodied in physical bodies in this world.
Every level of this hierarchy has a unique position and method of moving, in accordance with its mission.
On the lowest rung, but on the front lines, are the pawns. Like the pawn that can only go forward one step at a time, we make the world into a place where G‑d can feel at home by moving slowly, step-by-step. We do our work with simple actions that are often not very glamorous. Although we can achieve a lot, we must work within the limits of the natural universe.
However, when a pawn finally completes its step-by-step progression and reaches the other side, it can be swapped and promoted to a higher level. It is even possible for a pawn to attain the level of queen.
This is also true spiritually: It is possible for a simple human soul to be united with its source in malchut d'Atzilut, to be charged with the level of G‑dliness that is higher than all the angels and souls. We are the only ones in all the realms of created reality that are capable of this kind of drastic transformation.
This is in contrast to the officers: the rook, bishop, or horse. They can hop and skip, several steps at a time. Yet they can each only move in the way they have been assigned. The rooks only move in straight lines, the bishops only move diagonally, and the knights only go two-squares-vertically, one-square-horizontally, or vice versa.
In the spiritual worlds, each angel has its own unique character and method of transmitting the Divine flow to the lower worlds. But while angels are supernatural spiritual forces, they can "hop and skip," they are limited by their own job-descriptions. Unlike humans, angels cannot act out of character, upgrade or improve themselves.
The queen has more power and freedom than any of the officers; she can move infinitely in any direction. But freedom implies risk, and the queen is often thrown into harm's way for the sake of the game. Paralleling this, G‑d allows an aspect of Himself to go into exile, to become embedded in a world that will not necessarily recognize His presence. G‑dliness can be found everywhere and at any time, even in situations that appear foreign to G‑d.
Interestingly, the king, the most important piece, seems to have the least power. While it can move in any direction, it can only move one step at a time, like a lowly pawn. It does not engage in the fighting, and it moves only when it is most necessary, to win the whole game or in a time of danger.
This is because the king represents the innermost essence of G‑d which is completely removed from the mundane world. This aspect of G‑d does not ordinarily become engaged in the happenings of the world. But in a stunning move of extravagance, when the battle becomes a battle of life-and-death, when the whole purpose of creation is at stake, the King of kings, "G‑d" in the most infinite sense, steps in and joins us. We are never far removed even from that most transcendent aspect of G‑d.
And what does it mean to win a game of chess? What is the future that even G‑d Himself will drop everything to save? It means to win the war of all wars: when the world will be a place of good and harmony, peace and tranquility; when no part of G‑d will be in exile; and when the essence of G‑d will no longer be "removed" from creation.Regardless of one's religious beliefs--or even if one does not believe in any form of organized religion--the allegorical concept of how a lowly pawn can, step by step, transform itself (and the world) is very beautiful.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
How Garry Kasparov Used Simple Counting to Find a Brilliant Combination
National Master Jim Jordan, a two-time Dayton Chess Club Champion, insists that anyone who can count can become a chess master, because he believes that even the most complicated chess position can be reduced to counting how many times each player is attacking a key square. While this is a bit of an oversimplification, there is some truth to Jordan's blunt observation: he may be too casually dismissing how much skill it takes to know what to count and when to count it but counting is certainly an important aspect of chess mastery.
Garry Kasparov played a beautiful Queen sacrifice against Anatoly Karpov in game 20 of the 1990 World Chess Championship in no small part because Kasparov sought to exploit a basic numerical advantage--he could deploy seven attackers against Karpov's King, while Karpov could only mobilize five defenders:
Be sure to check out the end of the video, when the narrator notes that Kasparov is "very excited" but must "restrain himself" in order to accurately calculate the winning line; that is great advice for all chess players: even if you are sure that you are winning, restrain your excitement, refrain from moving too quickly and make sure that you play the best moves all the way until the end.
Garry Kasparov played a beautiful Queen sacrifice against Anatoly Karpov in game 20 of the 1990 World Chess Championship in no small part because Kasparov sought to exploit a basic numerical advantage--he could deploy seven attackers against Karpov's King, while Karpov could only mobilize five defenders:
Be sure to check out the end of the video, when the narrator notes that Kasparov is "very excited" but must "restrain himself" in order to accurately calculate the winning line; that is great advice for all chess players: even if you are sure that you are winning, restrain your excitement, refrain from moving too quickly and make sure that you play the best moves all the way until the end.
Labels:
Anatoly Karpov,
chess,
Garry Kasparov,
Jim Jordan
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Edward Pariants' Poignant and Loving Tribute to Mikhail Tal
"Genius is pain."--John Lennon
In 1992, Edward Pariants penned a beautiful obituary about the incomparable World Chess Champion Mikhail Tal, who had just died at the age of 55 after an all-too brief life plagued by serious health problems. The entire piece is a wonderful remembrance of a great genius--a bon vivant and a good soul who was gifted not only at chess but also as a writer (his autobiography The Life and Games of Mikhail Tal is one of the greatest chess books of all-time)--but these passages are particularly insightful:
A beautiful man was gone, the brightest player of our century was lost. Earth possessed one genius less. Nature is not generous with genius. Should she perchance extend the offer to all, few, if they knew the conditions genius imposes, would readily accept...
Then, of course, there is fate. The monumental question is, Why? Why are there people here on Mother Earth who must live without a kidney or without half their insides. Why did this have to be his fate? This I can't understand. All too often, while the world awaited further sparkling victories a la Tal, he was in an ambulance, angrily demanding that he be made well enough to play chess "sooner, faster, quicker!"...
It goes without saying that Misha was a prodigiously talented player, but the secret of his genius did not lie in his amazing ability to calculate or in his phenomenal memory--he could show you all 40 games played in a simul!--his greatest gift was his love of the game.
I have heard it said that Tal did not know any theory, that he just played "off the top of his head." This is ridiculous. To be a genius in your profession a complete mastery of theory is a necessary starting point. Consider the great Spanish painter Velasquez. Velasquez' deep understanding of classical painting was the foundation that allowed him to diverge from classical theory more profoundly than anyone else of his time.
In 1992, Edward Pariants penned a beautiful obituary about the incomparable World Chess Champion Mikhail Tal, who had just died at the age of 55 after an all-too brief life plagued by serious health problems. The entire piece is a wonderful remembrance of a great genius--a bon vivant and a good soul who was gifted not only at chess but also as a writer (his autobiography The Life and Games of Mikhail Tal is one of the greatest chess books of all-time)--but these passages are particularly insightful:
A beautiful man was gone, the brightest player of our century was lost. Earth possessed one genius less. Nature is not generous with genius. Should she perchance extend the offer to all, few, if they knew the conditions genius imposes, would readily accept...
Then, of course, there is fate. The monumental question is, Why? Why are there people here on Mother Earth who must live without a kidney or without half their insides. Why did this have to be his fate? This I can't understand. All too often, while the world awaited further sparkling victories a la Tal, he was in an ambulance, angrily demanding that he be made well enough to play chess "sooner, faster, quicker!"...
It goes without saying that Misha was a prodigiously talented player, but the secret of his genius did not lie in his amazing ability to calculate or in his phenomenal memory--he could show you all 40 games played in a simul!--his greatest gift was his love of the game.
I have heard it said that Tal did not know any theory, that he just played "off the top of his head." This is ridiculous. To be a genius in your profession a complete mastery of theory is a necessary starting point. Consider the great Spanish painter Velasquez. Velasquez' deep understanding of classical painting was the foundation that allowed him to diverge from classical theory more profoundly than anyone else of his time.
Labels:
chess,
Edward Pariants,
genius,
John Lennon,
Mikhail Tal
Monday, June 24, 2013
Putting Nadal's Shocking First Round Loss at Wimbledon in Proper Historical Context
Just two weeks after capturing his record eighth French Open title, Rafael Nadal lost in the first round at Wimbledon to 135th ranked Steve Darcis, falling in straight sets--7-6 (4), 7-6 (8), 6-4--to a player who has won just two career ATP titles. This is the first time that Nadal lost in the first round of a Grand Slam. Nadal's setback reemphasizes how difficult it is to win both the French Open and Wimbledon in the same year and how rare it is even for an all-time great to make it through his whole career without suffering a first round loss in a Grand Slam.
Bjorn Borg's "triple double"--winning both the French Open and Wimbledon for three straight years (1978-80)--is unprecedented. When Borg retired at 26, he simultaneously held the modern record for most French Open titles (six) and most Wimbledon titles (five); no other player has ever held both records. Borg never lost in the first round of a Grand Slam and he only once lost in the second round; he made the Finals 16 times in 27 Grand Slam appearances, an astonishing .593 percentage.
Nadal has reached a Grand Slam Final 17 times in 35 appearances (.486). Nadal won the French Open and Wimbledon in the same year in 2008 and 2010, while Roger Federer accomplished this in 2009. Rod Laver is the only other male player to win the "Channel Slam" during the Open Era (post-1968). Laver reached a Grand Slam Final 25 times in 55 appearances (.455), but he lost several prime years of his Grand Slam career because prior to the Open Era professionals were not permitted to play in Grand Slam events; without those restrictions, Laver would have notched several more Grand Slam wins and Finals appearances. He lost in the first round of a Grand Slam five times. Federer has reached a Grand Slam Final 24 times in 56 appearances (.429). He lost in the first round of a Grand Slam six times. Federer may be the most durable great player in tennis history but he is not as dominant as Borg, Nadal or Laver.
Nadal's first round Wimbledon loss is surprising, whether or not he is completely healthy (last year he lost in the second round at Wimbledon and then had to take seven months off to rest his balky knees), but his Grand Slam career is not seriously diminished by this one blemish.
Bjorn Borg's "triple double"--winning both the French Open and Wimbledon for three straight years (1978-80)--is unprecedented. When Borg retired at 26, he simultaneously held the modern record for most French Open titles (six) and most Wimbledon titles (five); no other player has ever held both records. Borg never lost in the first round of a Grand Slam and he only once lost in the second round; he made the Finals 16 times in 27 Grand Slam appearances, an astonishing .593 percentage.
Nadal has reached a Grand Slam Final 17 times in 35 appearances (.486). Nadal won the French Open and Wimbledon in the same year in 2008 and 2010, while Roger Federer accomplished this in 2009. Rod Laver is the only other male player to win the "Channel Slam" during the Open Era (post-1968). Laver reached a Grand Slam Final 25 times in 55 appearances (.455), but he lost several prime years of his Grand Slam career because prior to the Open Era professionals were not permitted to play in Grand Slam events; without those restrictions, Laver would have notched several more Grand Slam wins and Finals appearances. He lost in the first round of a Grand Slam five times. Federer has reached a Grand Slam Final 24 times in 56 appearances (.429). He lost in the first round of a Grand Slam six times. Federer may be the most durable great player in tennis history but he is not as dominant as Borg, Nadal or Laver.
Nadal's first round Wimbledon loss is surprising, whether or not he is completely healthy (last year he lost in the second round at Wimbledon and then had to take seven months off to rest his balky knees), but his Grand Slam career is not seriously diminished by this one blemish.
Labels:
Bjorn Borg,
French Open,
Rafael Nadal,
Rod Laver,
Roger Federer,
Wimbledon
Sunday, June 9, 2013
Does Nadal Belong in the Greatest Ever Conversation? Oui, Oui, Oui, Oui, Oui, Oui, Oui, Oui
Bjorn Borg's career numbers are as impressive and dominant as those of any other Open Era player but if--following current fashion--the "greatest" discussion must be limited to what we have seen in the past 10 years or so then Rafael Nadal must be included very prominently in that conversation. Nadal defeated David Ferrer 6-2, 6-3, 6-2 to capture his eighth French Open title; he has not only shattered Borg's French Open record (six titles) but Nadal now holds the record for most wins at any single Grand Slam event. Nadal is tied with Roy Emerson for third on the all-time list for Grand Slam singles titles (12), trailing only Roger Federer (17) and Pete Sampras (14). Emerson held that record for more than three decades, but he was not particularly dominant (winning 12 Grand Slam titles in 59 appearances, a .203 winning percentage) and he racked up those championships in no small part because tennis' ridiculous rules during the pre-Open Era prevented Rod Laver and other professionals from playing in Grand Slam events. Emerson won 10 of his 12 Grand Slam titles from 1963-67 without having to face Laver even once; Laver won all four Grand Slams in 1962, was not eligible to participate in the Grand Slam events from 1963-67 and then he won all four Grand Slams again in 1969. Laver enjoyed a 49-18 head to head record against Emerson, who was just two years older than Laver, and Laver won seven of the nine Grand Slam matches that they played against each other.
In contrast to Emerson, Nadal has been dominant (12 Grand Slam wins in 34 appearances, a .353 winning percentage) and Nadal owns a 20-10 head to head record against Roger Federer, who was prematurely crowned by many pundits as the greatest player of all-time. Nadal has never trailed in his matchup with Federer, even when he was a young player while Federer was at the height of his considerable powers. Federer has won 17 out of the 56 Grand Slam events that he has entered (.304) and Sampras won 14 of the 52 Grand Slam events that he entered (.269). Borg still holds the all-time record (11 for 27, a stunning .407 winning percentage). Nadal has now won at least one Grand Slam in nine straight years, breaking the record of eight shared by Borg (1974-81), Sampras (1993-2000) and Federer (2003-10).
Nadal's 2013 season could end up being one of the greatest ever; he has a 43-2 match record this year, including 22 wins in a row. He has won 21 of his 22 matches against top 10 players. It was hilarious to hear some people suggest in 2011 that Nadal had some kind of "Djokovic problem." While Djokovic won all six of his matches against Nadal in 2011, that was clearly an aberration; Djokovic had one great year during which he pretty much beat everybody--including Nadal--but after his five set win over Djokovic in the French Open semifinals Nadal leads Djokovic 20-15 in their head to head encounters and he has never trailed in his head to head matchup with Djokovic. Anyone who thinks that owning a 20-15 advantage over Djokovic is a "problem" for Nadal should explain why Nadal's 20-10 lead over Federer is not a "crisis" for Federer.
Tennis' official ranking system sheds little light on who should be considered the greatest player right now, let alone who is the greatest player of a particular era or the greatest player of all-time; all you need to know about tennis' official ranking system is that, even after Nadal's straight set victory over Ferrer, Ferrer passed Nadal and is now ranked fourth while Nadal drops to fifth. That is why I do not put much credence into who is ranked number one and/or how many weeks a player has been ranked number one during his career; the most relevant tennis statistics are Grand Slam titles won divided by Grand Slam appearances, match winning percentages in Grand Slam events and head to head results against elite players (provided the sample size is large enough), followed by those same statistics in ATP Masters events, followed by those same statistics in all Tour events.
Another important factor to consider is multi-surface dominance; the three most amazing statistics about Borg are that he won over 40% of the Grand Slam events that he entered, that he at one time held the modern record both for career French Open titles (six) and career Wimbledon titles (five) and that he won both of those events in the same year a record three straight times (1978-80). Nadal now owns the French Open record and both Sampras and Federer broke Borg's Wimbledon record but no one has come close to Borg's winning percentage, his French Open/Wimbledon "three-peat" or achieving simultaneous career dominance of both events. If Nadal can stay healthy, he is the one player who could perhaps approach Borg's standards in all of those categories.
In contrast to Emerson, Nadal has been dominant (12 Grand Slam wins in 34 appearances, a .353 winning percentage) and Nadal owns a 20-10 head to head record against Roger Federer, who was prematurely crowned by many pundits as the greatest player of all-time. Nadal has never trailed in his matchup with Federer, even when he was a young player while Federer was at the height of his considerable powers. Federer has won 17 out of the 56 Grand Slam events that he has entered (.304) and Sampras won 14 of the 52 Grand Slam events that he entered (.269). Borg still holds the all-time record (11 for 27, a stunning .407 winning percentage). Nadal has now won at least one Grand Slam in nine straight years, breaking the record of eight shared by Borg (1974-81), Sampras (1993-2000) and Federer (2003-10).
Nadal's 2013 season could end up being one of the greatest ever; he has a 43-2 match record this year, including 22 wins in a row. He has won 21 of his 22 matches against top 10 players. It was hilarious to hear some people suggest in 2011 that Nadal had some kind of "Djokovic problem." While Djokovic won all six of his matches against Nadal in 2011, that was clearly an aberration; Djokovic had one great year during which he pretty much beat everybody--including Nadal--but after his five set win over Djokovic in the French Open semifinals Nadal leads Djokovic 20-15 in their head to head encounters and he has never trailed in his head to head matchup with Djokovic. Anyone who thinks that owning a 20-15 advantage over Djokovic is a "problem" for Nadal should explain why Nadal's 20-10 lead over Federer is not a "crisis" for Federer.
Tennis' official ranking system sheds little light on who should be considered the greatest player right now, let alone who is the greatest player of a particular era or the greatest player of all-time; all you need to know about tennis' official ranking system is that, even after Nadal's straight set victory over Ferrer, Ferrer passed Nadal and is now ranked fourth while Nadal drops to fifth. That is why I do not put much credence into who is ranked number one and/or how many weeks a player has been ranked number one during his career; the most relevant tennis statistics are Grand Slam titles won divided by Grand Slam appearances, match winning percentages in Grand Slam events and head to head results against elite players (provided the sample size is large enough), followed by those same statistics in ATP Masters events, followed by those same statistics in all Tour events.
Another important factor to consider is multi-surface dominance; the three most amazing statistics about Borg are that he won over 40% of the Grand Slam events that he entered, that he at one time held the modern record both for career French Open titles (six) and career Wimbledon titles (five) and that he won both of those events in the same year a record three straight times (1978-80). Nadal now owns the French Open record and both Sampras and Federer broke Borg's Wimbledon record but no one has come close to Borg's winning percentage, his French Open/Wimbledon "three-peat" or achieving simultaneous career dominance of both events. If Nadal can stay healthy, he is the one player who could perhaps approach Borg's standards in all of those categories.
Biogenesis Scandal Demonstrates that Bud Selig and Major League Baseball Still Have not Contained the PED Problem
Major League Baseball ignored rampant performance-enhancing drug (PED) abuse among its players in the 1990s as Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire--among many others--disgraced the sport and trashed its most hallowed records; in the 2000s MLB asserted that its PED problem had been solved but the fact that high profile players still test positive for PEDs is an indicator both that players believe that they can get away with cheating and that players believe that PEDs work, even though economists/"stat gurus" insist otherwise. The ongoing Biogenesis scandal--which implicates more than 20 MLB players for using PEDs, including admitted PED offender Alex Rodriguez and 2011 NL MVP Ryan Braun--strongly suggests that PED users continue to win major awards and lead teams to championships.
Major League Baseball's late and tepid response to rampant PED abuse illustrates that Commissioner Bud Selig's greatest flaw is that he lacks the toughness to make difficult decisions--or, to put it another way, it seems as if Selig has too much "good" Captain Kirk in his personality. If Selig had been an effective leader then he would have tackled the PED problem head on from the beginning, much like NBA Commissioner David Stern instituted a strong policy against so-called recreational drugs in the 1980s when rampant drug abuse threatened both the league's image and the league's integrity (why should anyone pay to watch people who are literally getting high on the job?).
A few MLB players had the integrity to speak out against PED use even when it was not popular to express such opinions; one of those outspoken players was Frank Thomas, whose physique never changed during his career and who was robbed of at least one MVP (in 2000) by someone who later admitted using PEDs (Jason Giambi). Thomas recently said, "When I played, guys all said, 'Let's get to the Hall of Fame.' Now guys are like, 'Let's do five years and make $150 million, and you're set for life. Who cares?' I think that's the feeling among most of the guys now. It's shameful, what's happened over the last seven, eight years with this whole scandal, but guys continue to try it. I played against Barry and Roger and I know they're Hall of Famers, but what they did at the end of their careers is going to hurt them for life, I believe. It's a sad thing, because I know how good those guys were. Barry could have been a 500-500 [home runs and steals] guy before he started doing this stuff. Really, was it necessary? He could have gone down as one of the greatest all-around players of all time, if not the greatest."
MLB's PED cheaters damaged the game, damaged the careers of the clean players and very likely damaged their own bodies as well; it is wrong to suggest that PED abuse was somehow a victimless crime or not even a crime at all: in 1988 the federal government made it illegal to use steroids without a medical prescription, so MLB's PED users since that time broke federal laws, received their inflated salaries under false pretenses and essentially stole money from the clean athletes who were not competing on a level playing field.
It will not be easy to clean up MLB or any of the other sports leagues/federations that are infested with PED cheaters--but that is no excuse to just give up; not every thief, con man and murderer is caught, prosecuted and sent to jail but law enforcement authorities and the judicial system are still duty bound/honor bound to pursue the criminals who can be caught, prosecuted and sent to jail.
Major League Baseball's late and tepid response to rampant PED abuse illustrates that Commissioner Bud Selig's greatest flaw is that he lacks the toughness to make difficult decisions--or, to put it another way, it seems as if Selig has too much "good" Captain Kirk in his personality. If Selig had been an effective leader then he would have tackled the PED problem head on from the beginning, much like NBA Commissioner David Stern instituted a strong policy against so-called recreational drugs in the 1980s when rampant drug abuse threatened both the league's image and the league's integrity (why should anyone pay to watch people who are literally getting high on the job?).
A few MLB players had the integrity to speak out against PED use even when it was not popular to express such opinions; one of those outspoken players was Frank Thomas, whose physique never changed during his career and who was robbed of at least one MVP (in 2000) by someone who later admitted using PEDs (Jason Giambi). Thomas recently said, "When I played, guys all said, 'Let's get to the Hall of Fame.' Now guys are like, 'Let's do five years and make $150 million, and you're set for life. Who cares?' I think that's the feeling among most of the guys now. It's shameful, what's happened over the last seven, eight years with this whole scandal, but guys continue to try it. I played against Barry and Roger and I know they're Hall of Famers, but what they did at the end of their careers is going to hurt them for life, I believe. It's a sad thing, because I know how good those guys were. Barry could have been a 500-500 [home runs and steals] guy before he started doing this stuff. Really, was it necessary? He could have gone down as one of the greatest all-around players of all time, if not the greatest."
MLB's PED cheaters damaged the game, damaged the careers of the clean players and very likely damaged their own bodies as well; it is wrong to suggest that PED abuse was somehow a victimless crime or not even a crime at all: in 1988 the federal government made it illegal to use steroids without a medical prescription, so MLB's PED users since that time broke federal laws, received their inflated salaries under false pretenses and essentially stole money from the clean athletes who were not competing on a level playing field.
It will not be easy to clean up MLB or any of the other sports leagues/federations that are infested with PED cheaters--but that is no excuse to just give up; not every thief, con man and murderer is caught, prosecuted and sent to jail but law enforcement authorities and the judicial system are still duty bound/honor bound to pursue the criminals who can be caught, prosecuted and sent to jail.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Craig Carton's Book "Loudmouth" Lives up to its Name
Craig Carton and Boomer Esiason's Boomer and Carton morning show on WFAN is the number one ranked morning show in New York--and in his new book Loudmouth, Carton often reminds the reader of that fact. Carton comes across as a combination between an immature little boy desperately seeking praise/approval and an introspective man struggling to understand how the challenges he faced during his childhood shaped the person he ultimately became. Carton writes, "I was, and am, confident--but hardly cocky or full of myself...I laugh on the outside and put on a good show. Life is like day camp to me. That's my personal mantra, and I try to live up to it as much as I can. But on the inside, I'm still a somewhat insecure child who worries about ratings, about when my show will come to an end, and about not being good enough for my boss, my partner, my wife, and my family."
Carton's life story does not read like a tale from a "day camp"; he complains about how his parents did not show him overt affection and how they disregarded what he wanted to do--play sports--and what he did not want to do--go to Sunday School. Carton whines about typical childhood experiences that most adults have either long forgotten or never dwelled on in the first place. I don't begrudge Carton his pain or his right to explore the origins of his pain but I suspect that many readers will grow tired of hearing a successful radio host drone on about how his game-winning soccer goal as an eight year old was disallowed and about other similar youthful traumas that Carton still remembers in vivid detail. I have a similar kind of elephant's memory for real and imagined slights but reading Carton's book made me more aware of how such stories sound to other people's ears; life is best lived in the present, with an eye toward future goals, as opposed to trapping oneself in an endless cycle of revisiting the past.
Carton's radio career began in Buffalo shortly after he graduated from Syracuse. He quickly moved up the food chain during stints in Philadelphia, Cleveland and Denver before he scored the job at WFAN in the wake of the infamous Don Imus scandal. Carton's brash on-air style has been compared to Howard Stern's and Carton takes that as a great compliment even though Carton's critics intend it to be an insult; Carton has a low opinion of straight, just the facts radio shows: he believes that they are boring and that in order to attract a young audience it is necessary to say and do outlandish things.
Overall, Carton has had a good life; perhaps he will eventually learn to appreciate the positive aspects instead of focusing on the negative aspects.
Carton's life story does not read like a tale from a "day camp"; he complains about how his parents did not show him overt affection and how they disregarded what he wanted to do--play sports--and what he did not want to do--go to Sunday School. Carton whines about typical childhood experiences that most adults have either long forgotten or never dwelled on in the first place. I don't begrudge Carton his pain or his right to explore the origins of his pain but I suspect that many readers will grow tired of hearing a successful radio host drone on about how his game-winning soccer goal as an eight year old was disallowed and about other similar youthful traumas that Carton still remembers in vivid detail. I have a similar kind of elephant's memory for real and imagined slights but reading Carton's book made me more aware of how such stories sound to other people's ears; life is best lived in the present, with an eye toward future goals, as opposed to trapping oneself in an endless cycle of revisiting the past.
Carton's radio career began in Buffalo shortly after he graduated from Syracuse. He quickly moved up the food chain during stints in Philadelphia, Cleveland and Denver before he scored the job at WFAN in the wake of the infamous Don Imus scandal. Carton's brash on-air style has been compared to Howard Stern's and Carton takes that as a great compliment even though Carton's critics intend it to be an insult; Carton has a low opinion of straight, just the facts radio shows: he believes that they are boring and that in order to attract a young audience it is necessary to say and do outlandish things.
Overall, Carton has had a good life; perhaps he will eventually learn to appreciate the positive aspects instead of focusing on the negative aspects.
Labels:
Boomer Esiason,
Craig Carton,
WFAN
Friday, May 24, 2013
Chess as Art, Chess as Violent Sport
Grandmaster Lubomir Kavalek, a two-time U.S. Champion who once ranked among the top 10 players in the world, used to write a weekly chess column for the Washington Post but now his writing is regularly published by the Huffington Post. His most recent column begins with a famous quote from artist (and chess player) Marcel Duchamp: "While all artists
are not chess players, all chess players are artists."
GM Kavalek notes that the fourth World Chess Champion, Alexander Alekhine, also saw a connection between chess and art: "To me, chess is not a game; it is art," Alekhine declared.
With all due respect to Alekhine, these categories are not mutually exclusive; chess is both an art and a violent sport. Later in his column, GM Kavalek offers a vivid description of chess' brutal nature--and its tremendous allure:
It doesn't hurt your body, but your brain, your ego. Instead of concussions chess players suffer humiliation after a terrible loss. They start to question their confidence, doubting the worthiness of what they do. But in the end, they collect themselves and go back to the chessboard. And some of them may remember Alekhine's words: "I consider chess an art and accept all the responsibilities that art places upon its devotees."
Here are two other notable Alekhine quotes that fit in with GM Kavalek's exploration of the dual themes of chess as art/chess as violent sport:
"For success I consider three factors are necessary: firstly, an awareness of my own strengths and weaknesses; secondly, an accurate understanding of my opponent's strengths and weaknesses; thirdly, a higher aim than momentary satisfaction. I see this aim as being scientific and artistic achievements, which place the game of chess on a par with other arts."
"During a Chess competition a Chessmaster should be a combination of a beast of prey and a monk."
Achieving chess mastery involves much more than simply acquiring basic technical knowledge about how to play; a master must have an artistic sense, a great fighting spirit and very stable nerves in order to withstand the highs and lows that inevitably occur in a chess game and in a chess tournament. Chess is highly respected as both an art and a sport in many cultures, though Americans often dismiss chess' artistic value and scoff at the notion of chess as sport.
Basketball, chess and boxing share fascinating similarities in terms of preparation, intensity and skill development but some people insist that chess is not a sport because it lacks the obvious physical component inherent in basketball, boxing and other activities that are universally considered to be sports. This way of thinking ignores two important points: (1) there is a physical component to chess in terms of energy exertion and mental/physical/emotional stress and duress; (2) it has not always been the case that sport is defined exclusively as an activity involving a certain amount of physical movement. Rune Vik-Hansen asserts that the idea of chess as sport should not be summarily rejected:
Claiming chess "is just a game," because it is rule based, and therefore unworthy of undue attention, is a tautology and explains nothing. Mind you, the activity we call life may also be perceived to be a game with rules and recipes. When asking if chess is a sport or athletics, what we're really asking is if chess players perform, and more so, in the physical sense of the word...Despite agreeing in newspapers' commentary fields that games and activities like chess, bridge, archery, dart, shooting etc., involve performance of some kind, still, the physical aspect seems to saturate contemporary understanding of what a sporting or athletic performance is. In a country obsessed with countables and quantifiables--what cannot be measured does not exist--we may ask if not the accent on the physical excludes the possibility for a finer perception of what "performance" or "achievement" might be. Few doubt mental gladiators perform, but what, where and how? Is "blood, sweat and tears" (Johan Kaggestad, Norwegian athletics coach and TV commentator) or "motion" (1500-meter runner, Henrik Ingebrigtsen) the only criterion in a sporting or athletic performance or achievement?
I think that many people have a deeply ingrained bias against sustained intellectual concentration and against finding value in people who spend a lot of time thinking; that is why people who do well in school and/or express interest in non-mainstream subjects are often ostracized as "nerds." It is not considered normal to think too much or too deeply, so an activity like chess--which takes place in the minds of two competitors before being expressed physically/symbolically by the movement of chess pieces--is viewed with suspicion and even mockery in many quarters. Chess is difficult, chess involves thought and concentration, so it inevitably arouses suspicion among people who would prefer to think as little as possible and who see more value in running, jumping and throwing.
Instead of limiting the definition of sport to only include activities that generate "blood, sweat and tears," any rule-based activity that relies on skill should be considered a sport; some sports are mainly physical activities that include a mental component (such as basketball, boxing, football, etc.), while chess is a sport that is mainly a mainly mental activity that also includes a physical component in terms of energy exertion. It is not accidental that top level chess is dominated by young players; chess is very strenuous and thus energy and physical conditioning often outweigh the value of accumulated experience/wisdom.
GM Kavalek notes that the fourth World Chess Champion, Alexander Alekhine, also saw a connection between chess and art: "To me, chess is not a game; it is art," Alekhine declared.
With all due respect to Alekhine, these categories are not mutually exclusive; chess is both an art and a violent sport. Later in his column, GM Kavalek offers a vivid description of chess' brutal nature--and its tremendous allure:
It doesn't hurt your body, but your brain, your ego. Instead of concussions chess players suffer humiliation after a terrible loss. They start to question their confidence, doubting the worthiness of what they do. But in the end, they collect themselves and go back to the chessboard. And some of them may remember Alekhine's words: "I consider chess an art and accept all the responsibilities that art places upon its devotees."
Here are two other notable Alekhine quotes that fit in with GM Kavalek's exploration of the dual themes of chess as art/chess as violent sport:
"For success I consider three factors are necessary: firstly, an awareness of my own strengths and weaknesses; secondly, an accurate understanding of my opponent's strengths and weaknesses; thirdly, a higher aim than momentary satisfaction. I see this aim as being scientific and artistic achievements, which place the game of chess on a par with other arts."
"During a Chess competition a Chessmaster should be a combination of a beast of prey and a monk."
Achieving chess mastery involves much more than simply acquiring basic technical knowledge about how to play; a master must have an artistic sense, a great fighting spirit and very stable nerves in order to withstand the highs and lows that inevitably occur in a chess game and in a chess tournament. Chess is highly respected as both an art and a sport in many cultures, though Americans often dismiss chess' artistic value and scoff at the notion of chess as sport.
Basketball, chess and boxing share fascinating similarities in terms of preparation, intensity and skill development but some people insist that chess is not a sport because it lacks the obvious physical component inherent in basketball, boxing and other activities that are universally considered to be sports. This way of thinking ignores two important points: (1) there is a physical component to chess in terms of energy exertion and mental/physical/emotional stress and duress; (2) it has not always been the case that sport is defined exclusively as an activity involving a certain amount of physical movement. Rune Vik-Hansen asserts that the idea of chess as sport should not be summarily rejected:
Claiming chess "is just a game," because it is rule based, and therefore unworthy of undue attention, is a tautology and explains nothing. Mind you, the activity we call life may also be perceived to be a game with rules and recipes. When asking if chess is a sport or athletics, what we're really asking is if chess players perform, and more so, in the physical sense of the word...Despite agreeing in newspapers' commentary fields that games and activities like chess, bridge, archery, dart, shooting etc., involve performance of some kind, still, the physical aspect seems to saturate contemporary understanding of what a sporting or athletic performance is. In a country obsessed with countables and quantifiables--what cannot be measured does not exist--we may ask if not the accent on the physical excludes the possibility for a finer perception of what "performance" or "achievement" might be. Few doubt mental gladiators perform, but what, where and how? Is "blood, sweat and tears" (Johan Kaggestad, Norwegian athletics coach and TV commentator) or "motion" (1500-meter runner, Henrik Ingebrigtsen) the only criterion in a sporting or athletic performance or achievement?
I think that many people have a deeply ingrained bias against sustained intellectual concentration and against finding value in people who spend a lot of time thinking; that is why people who do well in school and/or express interest in non-mainstream subjects are often ostracized as "nerds." It is not considered normal to think too much or too deeply, so an activity like chess--which takes place in the minds of two competitors before being expressed physically/symbolically by the movement of chess pieces--is viewed with suspicion and even mockery in many quarters. Chess is difficult, chess involves thought and concentration, so it inevitably arouses suspicion among people who would prefer to think as little as possible and who see more value in running, jumping and throwing.
Instead of limiting the definition of sport to only include activities that generate "blood, sweat and tears," any rule-based activity that relies on skill should be considered a sport; some sports are mainly physical activities that include a mental component (such as basketball, boxing, football, etc.), while chess is a sport that is mainly a mainly mental activity that also includes a physical component in terms of energy exertion. It is not accidental that top level chess is dominated by young players; chess is very strenuous and thus energy and physical conditioning often outweigh the value of accumulated experience/wisdom.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Nadal Destroys Federer, Takes 20-10 Lead in Head to Head Series
Rafael Nadal smashed Roger Federer 6-1, 6-3 in the Italian Open finals, improving his record against Federer to 20-10 overall and 14-6 in finals. No one consistently outslugged Babe Ruth in Ruth's prime, no one consistently outgained Jim Brown in Brown's prime, no one consistently outplayed Wayne Gretzky in Gretzky's prime and no one consistently outplayed Michael Jordan in Jordan's prime. Ruth, Brown, Gretzky and Jordan are widely considered to be the greatest players of all-time in their respective sports and--even though there are other valid claimants to the throne in each sport--those players clearly dominated their own eras. Roger Federer has been called the greatest tennis player of all-time, so it is jarring to see him repeatedly not just beaten but often dominated to the point of humiliation by Rafael Nadal. If Karl Malone had outdueled Michael Jordan in the 1997 and 1998 NBA Finals instead of the other way around then Jordan would still be considered great but he would not be the icon that he is now with six titles in six Finals appearances.
Federer's advocates like to point out that a big part of Nadal's head to head advantage stems from his 13-2 record on clay versus Federer but (1) it makes no sense to call Federer the greatest of all-time when one player completely dominates him on a particular surface and (2) Nadal also has a good head to head record against Federer on other surfaces: they are tied 6-6 on hard courts--with Nadal leading 6-2 on outdoor hardcourts--and Nadal also owns a Wimbledon win against Federer, proving that Nadal can beat Federer on Federer's absolute best surface even though Federer is almost completely helpless against Nadal on Nadal's best surface.
If this were just some small sample size fluke--if Nadal owned, say, a 3-0 record against Federer on clay but had never beaten Federer anywhere else or won any other Grand Slam titles--then it could be dismissed as insignificant in the context of Federer's entire career but the sample size is sufficiently large and Nadal's career is very impressive in its own right: Nadal owns a career Grand Slam just like Federer and Nadal has a better Grand Slam event winning percentage (.333 to .309) and a better Grand Slam match winning percentage (.877 to .869). Is Federer more durable than Nadal? Yes, unquestionably. Will Federer finish his career with more Grand Slam titles than Nadal? Probably--Federer leads 17-11 and could conceivably add to his total, making it very challenging for Nadal to catch him even if Nadal does not miss any more Grand Slams due to injury. Federer is tennis' Emmitt Smith; Smith is the NFL's all-time rushing leader but no serious football analyst considers Smith to be the greatest running back of all-time: Smith was great and he was very durable but his per game and per season rushing averages do not match up with Jim Brown's.
The greatest player of all-time discussion in tennis really must be split into at least two parts--Open Era and pre-Open Era--because if Rod Laver had been permitted to play in the Grand Slam tournaments throughout his prime before the Open Era then he likely would have set records that never would have been broken. The equipment, rules and playing surfaces have all changed so much over the years that it may be more difficult to make meaningful cross generational comparisons in tennis than in any other sport.
Setting aside any discussion of Laver and the other pre-Open Era greats, is Federer the greatest player of the Open Era? Is Nadal the greatest player of the Open Era? With all due respect to those two tremendous champions, the correct answer may be "Neither": a strong case can be made that Bjorn Borg is the greatest player of the Open Era. It is hard to pick Federer after he has been so thoroughly dominated for his whole career by his main rival and neither Federer nor Nadal have matched the winning percentages and the simultaneous grass court/clay court dominance that Borg established during his reign.
It is somewhat speculative to compare Borg to Federer and Nadal since Borg never competed against either player, but we have seen Federer and Nadal compete against each other many times--and, while it can be debated exactly where to rank each one on the Open Era list, it is increasingly hard to justify placing Federer ahead of Nadal: we have no video of anyone consistently beating Jim Brown and the only footage of Ruth, Jordan or Gretzky being outdueled comes from the tail end of their respective careers. Federer has been number one in the world as recently as October 2012 and he still maintains a number two or number three ranking depending on the week; Federer's fans trumpet his every tournament win as further "proof" of his greatest of all-time status so, by the same token, every crushing loss to Nadal further proves that said status should never have been granted by the media in the first place.
Federer's advocates like to point out that a big part of Nadal's head to head advantage stems from his 13-2 record on clay versus Federer but (1) it makes no sense to call Federer the greatest of all-time when one player completely dominates him on a particular surface and (2) Nadal also has a good head to head record against Federer on other surfaces: they are tied 6-6 on hard courts--with Nadal leading 6-2 on outdoor hardcourts--and Nadal also owns a Wimbledon win against Federer, proving that Nadal can beat Federer on Federer's absolute best surface even though Federer is almost completely helpless against Nadal on Nadal's best surface.
If this were just some small sample size fluke--if Nadal owned, say, a 3-0 record against Federer on clay but had never beaten Federer anywhere else or won any other Grand Slam titles--then it could be dismissed as insignificant in the context of Federer's entire career but the sample size is sufficiently large and Nadal's career is very impressive in its own right: Nadal owns a career Grand Slam just like Federer and Nadal has a better Grand Slam event winning percentage (.333 to .309) and a better Grand Slam match winning percentage (.877 to .869). Is Federer more durable than Nadal? Yes, unquestionably. Will Federer finish his career with more Grand Slam titles than Nadal? Probably--Federer leads 17-11 and could conceivably add to his total, making it very challenging for Nadal to catch him even if Nadal does not miss any more Grand Slams due to injury. Federer is tennis' Emmitt Smith; Smith is the NFL's all-time rushing leader but no serious football analyst considers Smith to be the greatest running back of all-time: Smith was great and he was very durable but his per game and per season rushing averages do not match up with Jim Brown's.
The greatest player of all-time discussion in tennis really must be split into at least two parts--Open Era and pre-Open Era--because if Rod Laver had been permitted to play in the Grand Slam tournaments throughout his prime before the Open Era then he likely would have set records that never would have been broken. The equipment, rules and playing surfaces have all changed so much over the years that it may be more difficult to make meaningful cross generational comparisons in tennis than in any other sport.
Setting aside any discussion of Laver and the other pre-Open Era greats, is Federer the greatest player of the Open Era? Is Nadal the greatest player of the Open Era? With all due respect to those two tremendous champions, the correct answer may be "Neither": a strong case can be made that Bjorn Borg is the greatest player of the Open Era. It is hard to pick Federer after he has been so thoroughly dominated for his whole career by his main rival and neither Federer nor Nadal have matched the winning percentages and the simultaneous grass court/clay court dominance that Borg established during his reign.
It is somewhat speculative to compare Borg to Federer and Nadal since Borg never competed against either player, but we have seen Federer and Nadal compete against each other many times--and, while it can be debated exactly where to rank each one on the Open Era list, it is increasingly hard to justify placing Federer ahead of Nadal: we have no video of anyone consistently beating Jim Brown and the only footage of Ruth, Jordan or Gretzky being outdueled comes from the tail end of their respective careers. Federer has been number one in the world as recently as October 2012 and he still maintains a number two or number three ranking depending on the week; Federer's fans trumpet his every tournament win as further "proof" of his greatest of all-time status so, by the same token, every crushing loss to Nadal further proves that said status should never have been granted by the media in the first place.
Labels:
Bjorn Borg,
Rafael Nadal,
Roger Federer
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
What it Means to be the Best
After the New England Patriots lost 28-13 to the Baltimore Ravens in the 2013 AFC Championship,
Kurt Warner sent this text message to New England quarterback Tom
Brady: "Being the best doesn't mean you always win. It just means you
win more than anybody else." This quote is cited in a Seth Wickersham
article the 5/13/2013 issue of ESPN the Magazine. Wickersham
described what that brief message meant to Brady: "It touched Brady not
because Warner called him the best. No, it meant a
lot because in a bottom-line profession someone recognized the virtue in
striving, even if it's a consolation prize."
In sports--and in life--it is not always possible to control outcomes, no matter how dedicated, determined and talented that you are. The challenge and the opportunity is to always do your best; a person who can honestly say that he has fully committed his mind, body and soul to excellence is a champion even on the days when the scoreboard says that he has been vanquished.
In sports--and in life--it is not always possible to control outcomes, no matter how dedicated, determined and talented that you are. The challenge and the opportunity is to always do your best; a person who can honestly say that he has fully committed his mind, body and soul to excellence is a champion even on the days when the scoreboard says that he has been vanquished.
Labels:
Kurt Warner,
Tom Brady
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Why is Chess Not More Highly Respected in America?
Chess masters are viewed as athletes and even heroes in many countries--the current Armenian champion is featured on billboards and receives a salary from the national government--but, with rare exceptions such as Bobby Fischer and perhaps Paul Morphy, that has not been the case in America. It is both rarer and more difficult to achieve chess mastery than it is to earn a doctoral degree but in America chess masters are not accorded the respect or the financial compensation commensurate with reaching the 99th percentile in their chosen endeavor.
Stuart Rachels became the youngest National Master in American history (a record previously held by Fischer and that has since been broken several times, most recently by Awonder Liang) before earning the International Master title and tying for first place in the 1989 U.S. Championship. Rachels retired from professional chess in 1993 to follow in his father's footsteps by becoming a philosophy professor. Rachels' life experiences and his training as both an elite chess player and a philosopher provide him a unique perspective regarding how chess and chess players are perceived in America. In The Reviled Art, Rachels laments chess' low status in America: "My proudest moment--winning the U.S. Championship--brought me satisfaction but no glory. By then I knew that my victory was not a national news story, but I was disappointed to discover that it was not even considered local news. In Atlanta, where I was then a college student, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution declined to run a story about the tournament, while my college newspaper ran a story on page thirteen, devoting its front page to the minor accomplishments of a Division III college swimmer."
The preface to The Reviled Art is a quote from Rachels' father, James Rachels: "If chess is an art, it is hardly treated as such in the United States. Imagine what it would be like if music were as little known or appreciated. Suppose no self-respecting university would offer credit courses in music, and the National Endowment for the Arts refused to pay for any of it. A few enthusiasts might compose sonatas, and study and admire one another's efforts, but they would largely be ignored. Once in a while a Mozart might capture the public imagination, and like Bobby Fischer get written about in Newsweek. But the general attitude would be that, while this playing with sound might be clever, and a great passion for those who care about it, still in the end it signifies nothing very important."
During the early 1970s, it seemed like Bobby Fischer's dramatic World Championship victory might elevate the status of chess in the United States but Fischer was a tormented genius who did not defend his title and after Fischer disappeared from public view the "Fischer Boom" became a whimper. However, Stuart Rachels does not believe that chess would have become a mainstream activity in the United States even if Fischer had stayed on the scene:
The Fischer-Spassky frenzy was about a Cold War clash, and about the public's interest in Fischer himself; it had little to do with chess. If Bobby had kept playing, it would have been great. Professional chess players might now make a decent living in America. The U.S. Chess Federation might have as many members as the American Contract Bridge League (USCF: 90,000; ACBL: 160,000). But Fischer could not have made chess popular in the United States. There are three reasons for this.
The first, peculiar to the U.S.A., is our country's deeply-engrained anti-intellectualism. In America, chess is regarded as the premier strategy game, but this accolade earns the game little respect...
The second reason is that chess is an anti-social activity--or rather, tournament chess is. Casual games can be social affairs, but serious chess is quiet and solitary. Tournament games typically last for hours, and though you are playing against a human being, you do not speak to him, and you are not working with him--you are trying to beat him. Not many people want to spend hours alone with their own thoughts.
The third reason Fischer couldn't have made chess as popular as golf or tennis is that the game's beauty is invisible to those who haven't labored over a chessboard for untold hours.
Stuart Rachels gives an in depth explanation of both why chess games can be beautiful and why it is difficult for the uninitiated to appreciate this beauty. He begins by noting that when his father decided to reduce his personal library he found it easy to discard his books about bridge but he could not so blithely get rid of his chess books: "Throwing away Fischer's games," James Rachels said, "would be like throwing away Shakespeare's plays." Such a sentiment is readily understood by any chess player but may be incomprehensible to someone who does not play chess: how can moves from a board game be compared to great works of literature?
Stuart Rachels offers this description of chess beauty:
Great chess games are breathtaking works of art. What does their beauty consist in? Some facets of a game's beauty can be grasped only by considering the game as a whole. For example, an entire game can embody the flawless execution of a plan (as when, in a Queen's Gambit Declined, White launches a minority attack on the queenside, creates a weak black pawn on c6, organizes his forces around that pawn, wins it, and displays good endgame technique). Or, the protracted struggle of a long game, with its tensions, its clash of styles, and its shifting fortunes, can have aesthetic merit. Or, a whole game can be satisfying because the victor made no detectable errors; reflecting on the game as a whole, we can see that the victor's performance was unspoiled...
Explanations of beauty, however, ring hollow in chess, much as they do elsewhere. In the end, the beauty of chess is something you grasp visually, if you grasp it at all. The move, the combination, the final position, look beautiful. You see it. Even when a Grandmaster thinks about a beautiful move while he's watching a dull movie, he "sees" the board in his mind...
Chess provides a striking example of how knowledge can influence perception. When a novice and a master look at a position, there is a profound difference in their experience. The master sees the power of the pieces: he immediately knows which squares the bishop attacks; no conscious thought is required. More complicated matters can also be perceptual. A master can immediately perceive that a square is weak, a bishop is bad, a pawn is backward, and a queen is pinned. He can perceive all this in one or two seconds of scanning the board, while the novice has only taken in the fact that chess is being played on the board rather than checkers...
Once, when I was giving a thirty-five-board simul, I noticed at one board that a piece had been moved to a different square while I was concentrating on other games. My opponent immediately apologized and put the piece back, blaming the error on his small child, who was watching. This was not a matter of "memorization"—I do not have a trick memory—the position just didn't make sense with the piece misplaced.
A person does not have to possess Rachels' fine-tuned sense of the board to appreciate chess beauty but it takes a certain amount of knowledge to make sense of a chess game; as Rachels put it, a master may be able to instantly grasp the essence of a position in a glance but in that same glance most people will only be able to determine that the game being played is chess, not checkers. It is not difficult for anyone to understand the beauty and grace of a soaring slam dunk, a majestic home run or a long touchdown pass but the concept of chess beauty cannot be expected to make sense to someone who does not play chess.
After providing many examples of chess beauty and of the way that masters perceive the game differently than amateurs, Rachels concludes:
When art lovers talk about what they "see" in a painting, I usually don't believe them. I usually think they're just being pretentious. If you suspect this of me, please know this: any chess expert can confirm what I've said about chess perception. And there is no issue about determining who the experts are. In chess, the experts are the ones who win. In other artistic areas, experts are harder to discern, and so claims about perception and beauty are harder to verify.
In Mano a Mano Competition is Pure, I expressed a similar sentiment:
I love chess for many reasons--the game is part art, part science, part raw blooded competition--but one of the best things about chess is that your performance can be immediately and objectively quantified: you win, lose or draw and your rating is adjusted accordingly (often within 24 hours thanks to the internet/computers). Facing someone over the chessboard is much like going into a boxing ring--you are battling one on one against your opponent and it does not matter how rich you are, how popular you are or who you know: if you don't bring everything you've got then you will get knocked out...
Unfortunately, the writing business--like the music business--does not have objective ratings. There is no mano a mano competition; people who are completely unqualified to analyze either writing or basketball often determine who "wins" and who "loses."
While chess expertise can be accurately quantified, Rachels believes that chess beauty is too abstract of a concept for most people to grasp:
Most of the fun in chess comes from appreciating the game's beauty. This requires being able to see it. And being able to see it requires time and effort: it takes most people years to develop a competent perception of the board. This is the main reason why chess will never become popular in America--it's too hard. And this is why Fischer could not have been Caissa's Arnold Palmer.
Rachels is probably being a bit too pessimistic here and he later backs off a bit by conceding, "Weaker players can enjoy the game, and it doesn't take years to become weak. Different things are enjoyed at a lower level than at a higher level. For example, a novice might get excited by a simple knight fork, which a stronger player would find routine. But this is enjoyment nonetheless." I know from firsthand experience that in just one evening an attentive and enthusiastic student can go from knowing virtually nothing about chess to being able to appreciate, at least on a rudimentary visual level, the beauty of one of Morphy's most famous games.
Rachels devotes a significant portion of his essay to discussing chess composition. Rachels asserts, "The composed problem is the highest form of art in chess" and he is disappointed that chess problem composers are accorded so little respect even within the chess community itself:
The world of chess compositions is like the chess world writ smaller. Society ignores chess players; chess players ignore composers. Chess players don't like problems for the same reason that greengrocers don't like chess: because it strains the brain. Humans can grasp a lot about chess, but most people don't want to; chess players can grasp a lot about problems, but most aren't interested. The chess composer is a tragic figure, even compared to the chess player. Kasparov and Fischer enjoy fame, and even players who haven't penetrated the public consciousness are renowned in chess circles. Yet the Kasparovs and Fischers of the composing world are largely unknown even to chess players.
Although Rachels wishes that chess artistry in all forms were better appreciated, he rejects attempts to popularize the game by classifying chess as a sport because Rachels believes that physical exertion is an essential aspect of any sport. I disagree with Rachels; sport is not defined purely by the level of physical exertion required but rather by how much skill is utilized: that is why chess can rightly be called a sport but board games that rely on rolling dice or other elements of chance cannot rightly be called sports. Chess is a mind sport, a sport that requires extraordinary concentration, focus and mental/physical stamina; contrary to popular belief, it is very much a young person's game at the highest levels, precisely because of the sustained intense mental, physical and psychological effort that competitive chess requires.
Chess is a unique human endeavor, combining art (beauty), sport (skillful competition) and science (a strong player must know how to identify important patterns, utilize logic and employ proper technique). It is a shame that chess is not more widely appreciated and that it is not utilized as an integral part of the education process; as former World Chess Champion Garry Kasparov recently stated, learning chess can provide "a self-confidence that transforms a child's view of his or her potential."
Stuart Rachels became the youngest National Master in American history (a record previously held by Fischer and that has since been broken several times, most recently by Awonder Liang) before earning the International Master title and tying for first place in the 1989 U.S. Championship. Rachels retired from professional chess in 1993 to follow in his father's footsteps by becoming a philosophy professor. Rachels' life experiences and his training as both an elite chess player and a philosopher provide him a unique perspective regarding how chess and chess players are perceived in America. In The Reviled Art, Rachels laments chess' low status in America: "My proudest moment--winning the U.S. Championship--brought me satisfaction but no glory. By then I knew that my victory was not a national news story, but I was disappointed to discover that it was not even considered local news. In Atlanta, where I was then a college student, the Atlanta Journal-Constitution declined to run a story about the tournament, while my college newspaper ran a story on page thirteen, devoting its front page to the minor accomplishments of a Division III college swimmer."
The preface to The Reviled Art is a quote from Rachels' father, James Rachels: "If chess is an art, it is hardly treated as such in the United States. Imagine what it would be like if music were as little known or appreciated. Suppose no self-respecting university would offer credit courses in music, and the National Endowment for the Arts refused to pay for any of it. A few enthusiasts might compose sonatas, and study and admire one another's efforts, but they would largely be ignored. Once in a while a Mozart might capture the public imagination, and like Bobby Fischer get written about in Newsweek. But the general attitude would be that, while this playing with sound might be clever, and a great passion for those who care about it, still in the end it signifies nothing very important."
During the early 1970s, it seemed like Bobby Fischer's dramatic World Championship victory might elevate the status of chess in the United States but Fischer was a tormented genius who did not defend his title and after Fischer disappeared from public view the "Fischer Boom" became a whimper. However, Stuart Rachels does not believe that chess would have become a mainstream activity in the United States even if Fischer had stayed on the scene:
The Fischer-Spassky frenzy was about a Cold War clash, and about the public's interest in Fischer himself; it had little to do with chess. If Bobby had kept playing, it would have been great. Professional chess players might now make a decent living in America. The U.S. Chess Federation might have as many members as the American Contract Bridge League (USCF: 90,000; ACBL: 160,000). But Fischer could not have made chess popular in the United States. There are three reasons for this.
The first, peculiar to the U.S.A., is our country's deeply-engrained anti-intellectualism. In America, chess is regarded as the premier strategy game, but this accolade earns the game little respect...
The second reason is that chess is an anti-social activity--or rather, tournament chess is. Casual games can be social affairs, but serious chess is quiet and solitary. Tournament games typically last for hours, and though you are playing against a human being, you do not speak to him, and you are not working with him--you are trying to beat him. Not many people want to spend hours alone with their own thoughts.
The third reason Fischer couldn't have made chess as popular as golf or tennis is that the game's beauty is invisible to those who haven't labored over a chessboard for untold hours.
Stuart Rachels gives an in depth explanation of both why chess games can be beautiful and why it is difficult for the uninitiated to appreciate this beauty. He begins by noting that when his father decided to reduce his personal library he found it easy to discard his books about bridge but he could not so blithely get rid of his chess books: "Throwing away Fischer's games," James Rachels said, "would be like throwing away Shakespeare's plays." Such a sentiment is readily understood by any chess player but may be incomprehensible to someone who does not play chess: how can moves from a board game be compared to great works of literature?
Stuart Rachels offers this description of chess beauty:
Great chess games are breathtaking works of art. What does their beauty consist in? Some facets of a game's beauty can be grasped only by considering the game as a whole. For example, an entire game can embody the flawless execution of a plan (as when, in a Queen's Gambit Declined, White launches a minority attack on the queenside, creates a weak black pawn on c6, organizes his forces around that pawn, wins it, and displays good endgame technique). Or, the protracted struggle of a long game, with its tensions, its clash of styles, and its shifting fortunes, can have aesthetic merit. Or, a whole game can be satisfying because the victor made no detectable errors; reflecting on the game as a whole, we can see that the victor's performance was unspoiled...
Explanations of beauty, however, ring hollow in chess, much as they do elsewhere. In the end, the beauty of chess is something you grasp visually, if you grasp it at all. The move, the combination, the final position, look beautiful. You see it. Even when a Grandmaster thinks about a beautiful move while he's watching a dull movie, he "sees" the board in his mind...
Chess provides a striking example of how knowledge can influence perception. When a novice and a master look at a position, there is a profound difference in their experience. The master sees the power of the pieces: he immediately knows which squares the bishop attacks; no conscious thought is required. More complicated matters can also be perceptual. A master can immediately perceive that a square is weak, a bishop is bad, a pawn is backward, and a queen is pinned. He can perceive all this in one or two seconds of scanning the board, while the novice has only taken in the fact that chess is being played on the board rather than checkers...
Once, when I was giving a thirty-five-board simul, I noticed at one board that a piece had been moved to a different square while I was concentrating on other games. My opponent immediately apologized and put the piece back, blaming the error on his small child, who was watching. This was not a matter of "memorization"—I do not have a trick memory—the position just didn't make sense with the piece misplaced.
A person does not have to possess Rachels' fine-tuned sense of the board to appreciate chess beauty but it takes a certain amount of knowledge to make sense of a chess game; as Rachels put it, a master may be able to instantly grasp the essence of a position in a glance but in that same glance most people will only be able to determine that the game being played is chess, not checkers. It is not difficult for anyone to understand the beauty and grace of a soaring slam dunk, a majestic home run or a long touchdown pass but the concept of chess beauty cannot be expected to make sense to someone who does not play chess.
After providing many examples of chess beauty and of the way that masters perceive the game differently than amateurs, Rachels concludes:
When art lovers talk about what they "see" in a painting, I usually don't believe them. I usually think they're just being pretentious. If you suspect this of me, please know this: any chess expert can confirm what I've said about chess perception. And there is no issue about determining who the experts are. In chess, the experts are the ones who win. In other artistic areas, experts are harder to discern, and so claims about perception and beauty are harder to verify.
In Mano a Mano Competition is Pure, I expressed a similar sentiment:
I love chess for many reasons--the game is part art, part science, part raw blooded competition--but one of the best things about chess is that your performance can be immediately and objectively quantified: you win, lose or draw and your rating is adjusted accordingly (often within 24 hours thanks to the internet/computers). Facing someone over the chessboard is much like going into a boxing ring--you are battling one on one against your opponent and it does not matter how rich you are, how popular you are or who you know: if you don't bring everything you've got then you will get knocked out...
Unfortunately, the writing business--like the music business--does not have objective ratings. There is no mano a mano competition; people who are completely unqualified to analyze either writing or basketball often determine who "wins" and who "loses."
While chess expertise can be accurately quantified, Rachels believes that chess beauty is too abstract of a concept for most people to grasp:
Most of the fun in chess comes from appreciating the game's beauty. This requires being able to see it. And being able to see it requires time and effort: it takes most people years to develop a competent perception of the board. This is the main reason why chess will never become popular in America--it's too hard. And this is why Fischer could not have been Caissa's Arnold Palmer.
Rachels is probably being a bit too pessimistic here and he later backs off a bit by conceding, "Weaker players can enjoy the game, and it doesn't take years to become weak. Different things are enjoyed at a lower level than at a higher level. For example, a novice might get excited by a simple knight fork, which a stronger player would find routine. But this is enjoyment nonetheless." I know from firsthand experience that in just one evening an attentive and enthusiastic student can go from knowing virtually nothing about chess to being able to appreciate, at least on a rudimentary visual level, the beauty of one of Morphy's most famous games.
Rachels devotes a significant portion of his essay to discussing chess composition. Rachels asserts, "The composed problem is the highest form of art in chess" and he is disappointed that chess problem composers are accorded so little respect even within the chess community itself:
The world of chess compositions is like the chess world writ smaller. Society ignores chess players; chess players ignore composers. Chess players don't like problems for the same reason that greengrocers don't like chess: because it strains the brain. Humans can grasp a lot about chess, but most people don't want to; chess players can grasp a lot about problems, but most aren't interested. The chess composer is a tragic figure, even compared to the chess player. Kasparov and Fischer enjoy fame, and even players who haven't penetrated the public consciousness are renowned in chess circles. Yet the Kasparovs and Fischers of the composing world are largely unknown even to chess players.
Although Rachels wishes that chess artistry in all forms were better appreciated, he rejects attempts to popularize the game by classifying chess as a sport because Rachels believes that physical exertion is an essential aspect of any sport. I disagree with Rachels; sport is not defined purely by the level of physical exertion required but rather by how much skill is utilized: that is why chess can rightly be called a sport but board games that rely on rolling dice or other elements of chance cannot rightly be called sports. Chess is a mind sport, a sport that requires extraordinary concentration, focus and mental/physical stamina; contrary to popular belief, it is very much a young person's game at the highest levels, precisely because of the sustained intense mental, physical and psychological effort that competitive chess requires.
Chess is a unique human endeavor, combining art (beauty), sport (skillful competition) and science (a strong player must know how to identify important patterns, utilize logic and employ proper technique). It is a shame that chess is not more widely appreciated and that it is not utilized as an integral part of the education process; as former World Chess Champion Garry Kasparov recently stated, learning chess can provide "a self-confidence that transforms a child's view of his or her potential."
Labels:
Bobby Fischer,
chess,
Garry Kasparov,
James Rachels,
Stuart Rachels
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)

