The Validation Of Data Analysts - A Change Is Coming

Basketball TV broadcasts frustrate me when they present statistics like this:

"Offensive rebounds: Michigan State 9, Wisconsin-Green Bay 9."

The broadcast team presents statistics to give the viewer an understanding of how teams or players have performed. If the above statistic were presented, though, the viewer would likely take away the message that the two teams rebounded equally well on the offensive end (and, therefore, on the defensive end, too). While each team did secure the same number of offensive boards, Michigan State did so in only 25 opportunities (22 missed FG, 3 missed FT) while UWGB did so in 41 opportunities (35 missed FG, 6 missed FT). This statistic would convey a much stronger message:

"Offensive rebounding percentage: Michigan State 36%, Wisconsin-Green Bay 22%"

In the past couple years, Ken Pomeroy, Kyle Whelliston, John Gasaway, and others have evaluated players and teams using statistics that measure efficiency (usually named "possession-based stats" or "tempo-free stats") rather than "totals" that depend in part on the number of opportunities a player or team has to obtain them (points, rebounds, assists, etc.). Mainstream media, meanwhile, have continued to focus on totals. Or is there some other explanation for Bracey Wright's selection to the 2004-2005 All-Big Ten first team?

The old guard of sports-talkers is vulnerable to the new breed of data analysts. Dick Vitale's skill as an analyst lies in watching players and teams perform and passing judgment on their ability to compete against other players and teams. I won't dispute his skill in this regard. What data analysts have taught us, though, is that there are tools that predict success with greater accuracy than Dick Vitale. Or just about any other analyst who insists on using his own judgment of specific situations and performances without considering the value of overall statistics.

I refer to Dick Vitale, Bill Walton, Charles Barkley, and others like them as "sports-talkers" because (1) the word would have an entirely different meaning without the hyphen, and (2) their most important skill lies in their ability to perform on live television when they have nothing to say. Data analysts can show so many things through statistics, though, that they would almost always have something to say, even without relying on mentioning J.J. Redick.

Data analysts threaten sportswriters more directly. Sportswriters can make their mark as a reporter (Chris Mortensen), an analyst, or a writer (Bill Simmons). I don't have a good example for the sportswriter-analyst because I really can't think of one. Sportswriters break stories or produce feature articles, or they entertain readers through their writing. Data analysts have a niche waiting for them, because they can make their mark through analysis alone.

The key to writing as an analyst is clarity. An analyst's purpose in writing is to convey to the reader the meaning of the analysis. If the reader can't understand the message, the analyst has failed. Beyond that, it's all good, as long as the analysis is sound and the matter holds significance for the reader. Just because Gasaway, as Big Ten Wonk, is entertaining doesn't mean he has to be to get his point across.

ESPN.com has recognized the analyst niche and begun to fill it -- Pomeroy and Whelliston have, quite recently, joined the payroll. Sportswriters that masquerade as analysts are now officially endangered. Thankfully, most sportswriters are true reporters as well and don't feel threatened. Grant Wahl and Luke Winn from SI.com each endorsed the aforementioned data analysts in an online column earlier this month. And sportswriters like Bill Simmons (not such a large group, is it?) are writers first, so they're not going anywhere, either.

I find the articles from Wahl and Winn encouraging because they signal a shift in the attitude of mainstream media. It's only a matter of time before television broadcasters start citing effective field goal percentage, rebounding percentage, and points-per-possession in their pre-game analysis instead of things like "Shoot The 3; Avoid Foul Trouble; Run, Run, Run." From there it's a hop, skip, and a jump to seeing these figures show up in box scores and in mid-game analysis.

Statistics have analytical and predictive value that rivals and often exceeds the judgment of even the most talented individuals. The next time you read or hear someone disregarding statistics in favor of personal judgment, without any sort of qualification, consider the source and his motivation. Self-preservation is a powerful instinct.

Microwave squares

When my mom reheats a mug of coffee in the microwave, she'll mike it for 12 seconds, or 16 seconds, but not something "normal" like 15 seconds. This works for longer times, too -- I've seen her mike frozen vegetables for something like 2:43. I'm not normal, either, because when I wanted to mike something for 2 minutes and 30 seconds, I used to enter 1:90. The microwave that today I own seems to only accept whole increments of 30 seconds, which disappoints me. In any case, here is a math problem I came up with while waking up on Saturday morning.

The display on a microwave contains four digits, two for minutes and two for seconds (mm:ss). Because there are only 60 seconds in 1 minute, the number that can be read from left to right does not represent the true number of seconds that will be counted down by the timer -- 210 (2:10) represents 130 seconds, while 210 seconds can be represented by either 330 (3:30) or 290 (2:90). If the displayed number is one or two digits only, then the displayed number and true number of seconds will be the same (i.e., this is the trivial or uninteresting case). When the two numbers are different, they still may share interesting properties in some cases...

For what three- or four-digit displayed numbers are the displayed number and true number of seconds both perfect squares?

Curious about the can

I have three questions about the bathroom and related activities:

1. Why do some men wash their hands before doing their business in the restroom? Or am I the weird one for even asking this question? I've done it a couple of times, but only if I've just eaten and I know there's something on my hands that would get smudges on my clothes. So is this also the case each time I see someone wash his hands first? I'd really like to ask a total stranger why he does this -- not someone I know, because I'd have to talk to him again afterwards -- but I've never felt comfortable sticking around until the guy comes out of the stall. And having a conversation with a total stranger who's in a bathroom stall is something I don't do while sober. Actually, there's a better reason to stick around until he's done -- to see whether he washes his hands after as well.
   
   
2. Do you leave the toilet seat up or down? When you replace the toilet paper roll, do you have it roll forward (pull over the top and down the front) or backward? I know what I do (down; forward) but I'm not qualified to tell you that you're wrong if you do it differently. I wonder, though, whether there's a correlation between the two. Are people that leave the toilet seat up more likely to have the toilet paper roll face forward than those that leave the toilet seat down? And so on. This is the kind of research I'd do if there were 87 hours in the day.
   
   
3. What goes through a dog's mind when his owner cleans up after him with a plastic bag while taking a walk? I can imagine just about anything:

• "My owner is one sick ____."
• "Hey, leave that! I was marking my territory! Kind of like what you do with your dirty clothes."
• "As long as you're going to pick up after me, would you mind cleaning my _______ with your tongue, too?"
  
• "If I had known this stuff was so desirable, I wouldn't have eaten it all these years."
  

Boxing Day -- not quite brownies, but close...

Just now I discovered the true meaning of Canada's Boxing Day. And I don't mean in the sense of how the Grinch discovered the true meaning of Christmas. I mean in the sense of why the day is named Boxing Day. It took me so long only because I never drove myself to resolve the uncertainty I felt when considering the name. "Why is it called Boxing Day?" is a question easily displaced by "How many strips of bacon can I have?" and "What do you mean, we're out of batteries?" It wasn't until today that the true meaning was shoved in my face.

The day has nothing to do with prizefighting, as I may have supposed in my early years. The day has nothing to do with Chinese anti-imperialism, as I may have speculated in high school. Boxing Day has to do with the practice of attending church on Christmas Day and leaving the distribution/receipt/opening of gifts (depending on whose story you believe) until the following day. The name arises from the boxes that contain the gifts.

Now that, my friend, is a lightbulb moment.

To do list...

Things to do in the near future:

1. Put up links to this blog's archives. You know, for all my readers. Which leads me to wonder, in today's increasingly virtual world, do people invent imaginary online friends?
2. See that someone gets jail time for the thousand messages my spam mailbox has received in the past 24 hours for "The Bouncer."
   
3. Find the web's best-formatted single-page listing of all World Cup matches (this will have to do until the Sun-Times devotes a full page to it next summer), print it out, and thumb-tack it to my cubicle at work. Right next to my inspired diagram for Feature Group traffic. Ah, Microsoft Visio...it is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up...I mean, finding out if your company has a corporate license. But after spending an hour in 2002 fruitlessly trying to put my own spreadsheet together -- unfortunately, even conditional formatting has its limits -- I'm willing to let sports websites do the work for me this time around.
4. Decide whether I should stop listening to the latest Jamiroquai album before I feel the need to officially declare "Starchild" my current favorite song, which would pretty much guarantee that I'd stop liking it within the next month. From another perspective, though, it could be my fourth favorite song on the album -- like an ACC team that finishes way back in conference, but everyone knows they still have a shot to win the national title -- so I should be in the clear.
5. Go see Aeon Flux before I get talked out of it by the reviews I haven't read. [And yet somehow I know what they say. Damn news website leads.]

At least we have Ghana

It's the World Cup, baby! Today's draw...could have gone better for the United States. Making the second round shouldn't come cheap, though...and in Group E, it definitely won't.

Group A - Almost History

Poland was one ping-pong ball away from facing Germany in the opening match (!). After being drawn first from Pot 3, Poland was to be placed in one of the two remaining spots in Group A, A2 or A3 (Ecuador had already been placed in A4). Alas, the historic match-up was not to be. Germany will likely reprise its opening match from the 1994 World Cup, an instantly forgettable 1-0 victory over Bolivia, when facing Costa Rica in Munich on June 9.

As the host nation, Germany should run away with this group. Second place will earn a spot against England, with a chance of Sweden, in the second round.

Group B - The Afterthought

Barring some remarkable performances from Paraguay, this group's top spot should come down to who can score the most against Trinidad & Tobago. England and Sweden should reach their end-of-round match with six points each, leading to a meaningless 1-1 draw in which Wayne Rooney and David Beckham strive desperately to avoid yellow card suspensions.

Group C - 9, 6, 3, 0

I'm calling it now -- someone will win the Argentina-Netherlands match. It won't really matter, though, because each of them will make it to the final eight, and neither of them can face Brazil until at least the semifinals. I'm also calling this now -- the Ivory Coast-Serbia & Montenegro match will have more red cards than any other in this tournament. Think about it -- two teams coming in with no points; an African team that has probably turned on its manager (they qualified over Cameroon, so they may as well follow in the Indomitable Lions' footsteps); and, as Turkey didn't qualify, I think S&M has what it takes to be the 2006 sending-off champ.

Group D - Even Portugal Can't Screw This Up

Mexico must be happy. Iran and Angola, meet Jared Borgetti's head. This is why it's good to be seeded...especially when the only threatening team in Pot 4, the United States, can't be placed in your group. But Portugal must be even happier. After being overwhelmed in the first half-hour by the United States and giving up a weak goal to South Korea to choke their way out in 2002, the Portuguese have received valet parking and a red carpet on their way to a round-of-16 defeat.

Group E - And I Like The Chicago Bears' Chances, Too

It's not a true Group of Death -- unless Ghana turns out to be really good, that is -- but it does have the Czech Republic, ranked second in the world, and Italy, against whom I'll be amazed if DaMarcus Beasley doesn't get injured. (I just can't imagine the Azzurri letting him run by them for 90 minutes without incident.) If the United States knew they would end up with this draw, they would have been much more upset about missing out on a seed by one lousy point.

The path to the second round for the United States is clear -- don't lose either of the first two matches, and then take Ghana out behind the Holzhütte (bastardized German for woodshed). No injuries. (Claudio, J.O'B., this means you.) No suspensions. (Entire backline, this means you.) Donovan actually converting a breakaway. Keller playing as out-of-his-mind as Friedel did four years earlier. Gooch frustrating strikers. Beasley driving defenders insane. And McBride justifying my jersey purchase.

Group F - Ronaldinho reminds me of Tori Spelling. There, I said it.

Brazil's offensive depth -- all-world Robinho (which is pronounced Rob-EEN-yo, not ROB-in-ho...) probably won't even start -- could be the best thing to happen to Australia or Croatia, because even the Brazilian subs will still be able to light up Japan at the end of the group stage. Whoever takes second place in this group will end up being one of those "Wow, I didn't realize they made the second round in 2006" teams. You know, like Paraguay in 2002 or Paraguay in 1998. [Hmmm, maybe Paraguay won't be quite the walk-over I think they will in Group B.]

Group G - Even France Can't Screw This Up

Repeated heading, yes. But, seriously -- Switzerland, South Korea, and Togo? France should thank their lucky stars that they've been handed a waterslide to a penalty shootout with Italy in the quarterfinals. [Did that Bill and Ted's reference fly by too quickly?] I would like Togo's chances to go through -- if the three teams other than France all play to draws, Togo could advance by knocking off France, who will likely have wrapped up the group by then, on the last day of group play. However, after getting embarrassed by Senegal in their first match in 2002, France simply can't blow this game against another African unknown...can they?

Group H - The Big East Conference

Seriously, folks...this is West Virginia in a BCS bowl. Except if the conference got to send two teams.

I've never been a believer in Spain, even though I'd be surprised to see them fail to advance. I'm not much of a believer in Ukraine, either, even though they were the first side to qualify from Europe. As usual, I have no idea what to expect with Tunisia or Saudi Arabia. (That should reflect on them, not on me, I hope.) But as the group winner gets Brazil in the quarters and the runner-up gets France in the next round, this may be one of the groups whose games I don't stay home from work to watch. [After all, that's what live web updates are for.]

Choosing among outcomes, not methods

On Tuesday FIFA announced the eight teams, out of the 32 that have qualified for the World Cup finals next June, that will receive a top seed in one of the eight groups. After round-robin play within the groups, the top two teams from each group advance to a 16-team single-elimination bracket to determine the World Cup champion. Being seeded allows a team to avoid facing any of the other top seeds in the group stage of the competition, giving the team a more certain path to the second round.

The seeds are determined using a method that is dictated in general terms by FIFA guidelines. The specific implementation of those guidelines, though, is up to the Organizing Committee for each World Cup. The fine-tuning of these guidelines is announced at the same time as the seeds -- the Committee does not announce in advance the specific criteria it will use. This makes sense from the standpoint of event promotion, because the seeds would no longer be a mystery once the criteria were announced. Of potentially greater importance, it also allows the Committee to select a set of criteria that produces the most desirable set of seeded teams.

FIFA is running a business, so it would like to make decisions and take actions that produce the largest profits. Certain teams have larger fan bases with larger potential television revenues, so it would be beneficial to smooth their path to a longer stay in the tournament. And in the 1994 World Cup, two of Italy's first-round matches were played as relative home games, in Giants Stadium just outside of New York City, which boasts a huge Italian population. However, allowing economic and other off-field issues to override other measures of teams' relative quality on the field would make for very bad press. Given the choice, then, the Organizing Committee would prefer that the seeds turn out as desired by economic considerations alone, while using a method that utilizes only performance-based measures.

This wasn't as complex a problem as it may sound, at least this time around. Of the eight seeds, one is given to the host nation, in this case Germany. A second belonged to Brazil, unquestionably the strongest team in the world. There are another 10 teams that could reasonably have been seeded (Argentina, Czech Republic, England, France, Italy, Mexico, Netherlands, Portugal, Spain, United States), so there is a relatively limited set of potential outcomes.

[If you're thinking of a number, and it's 210, you're probably as big of a dork as I am.]

There is also a relatively limited set of methods, or selection and weightings of criteria, that are available for use in determining the seeds. Because the seeds will be definitively determined by the method chosen, the Committee knows the outcome that would result from each method. This means that the choice for any particular method is really a choice for its resulting outcome. The Committee is really choosing among outcomes, not methods.

Rather than comparing the possible methods to determine which is the fairest, the Committee can rank the derived outcomes in order of their projected economic value. Starting with the most favorable outcome, the Committee can proceed down the list until it finds one that is associated with a method that will withstand scrutiny.

This time around, if the Committee had decided to give slightly more weight to FIFA rankings, the United States would likely have displaced Italy as the 8th seed. However, if the Committee had incorporated the teams' performance at the last three World Cups (as the Committees for 1998 and 2002 did), instead of just the last two, Italy may have finished even further ahead of the United States (in 1994 Italy made the final, while the United States lost in the Round of 16). The Committee may have had a choice among several methods that all produced the same outcome -- the same set of seeded teams -- and settled on a method that caused the United States to finish a close 9th, rather than a distant 9th or 10th, with an additional selling point being that the method was only a slight tweak from that used at the previous two World Cups. [I'm probably understating the political desire to maintain consistency over time, as significant change is always subject to greater critique than maintenance of the status quo.]

When the outcome of a particular process is automatic, any choice involving modification of that process is effectively a choice among the potential outcomes. The seeding of teams at the World Cup finals is such a process, so an analysis of the choice of methods is not complete unless it considers the possible outcomes as well.

The Supermen among us

This Saturday afternoon I saw a firetruck back into its station. Traveling south on Ashland, Engine 30 briefly sounded its siren to stop traffic and then did a big S-move, positioning itself at a 90-degree angle to the street. The driver then hurled the engine, starting from a standstill, backwards across the street and through the doorway at over 20 miles per hour. I had two simultaneous thoughts: "Wow, I can't believe he did that!" and "That was pretty impressive." I guess I was awestruck. I'm not saying I was 15-point-comeback-against-Arizona awestruck, but I think that's the right word to describe those two quotes.

I don't know why the fireman driving the engine sped into the station. Maybe he wanted to clear the street as quickly as possible to allow traffic to continue moving. Maybe he had backed in the engine so many times that speed wasn't a concern. And maybe it just doesn't faze him at all because driving a truck in reverse pales in comparison to racing into a burning building.

I'm not saying firemen are my heroes. When I was little, my heroes consisted of astronauts, football players, and anyone that carried a lightsaber. And, of course, my dad. [Who occasionally carried a lightsaber.] But firemen are among the heroes of our society as a whole, and I certainly recognize and admire them for what they do. And when I think of heroes, I imagine that everything they do is extraordinary, even the most basic aspects of life. When a football player reads a book to kids, he does the evil wizard's voice perfectly. And when a fireman backs his car into the garage, he does it at break-neck speed.

It helps us believe. We rarely get to see a fireman do what makes him so special. So when we get the chance to see him do something completely ordinary, it bolsters our faith to see it done in an extraordinary way. Knowing that a potential hero can do what we probably couldn't do when it comes to ordinary things gives us hope that he can do what we almost certainly couldn't do when it comes to matters of life and death.

I'm glad I got to see what I did on Saturday. The older I get, the less I tend to rely on others. It feels good to be reminded that there are people in the world that can do the things I can't do, and that they're out there waiting to help me if I need it.

Bring back symbolic dreams

My high school reunion is tonight. Naturally, then, last night I dreamed about...being at my high school reunion. Sure, it had the usual dream elements -- my Indian friend looked surprisingly like Katsumoto from The Last Samurai, for example -- but aren't dreams supposed to be more symbolic than this? If I'm anxious about seeing people I haven't seen in ten years, shouldn't I dream about being parked under a 9th-inning pop-up that is taking forever to drop out of the sky? If I'm nervous about what I'm going to say in the 15 seconds that I talk to people I wasn't friends with in high school, shouldn't I dream about going to a job fair? I guess I should be happy, at least, that I didn't dream about being at my reunion and suddenly discovering I was naked.

Hey, maybe that is what I should wear.

Immutable Cartoon Law #17

Breaking open the main gate of a zoo simultaneously frees all large, non-aggressive animals, causing them to escape within mere seconds and run wild through the town.

On the day they were handing out brevity...

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Thursday, November 17:

two-graf

Well, folks, this is a first...I was unable to find the answer to a question on the internet.

I hope you were sitting down for that.

I gather the above term is used to convey a sense of brevity. It's commonly used as an adjective -- among the links I found -- but Wonk used it as a noun, or at least one of those other-type-of-word-used-as-noun things. Furthermore, Wonk preceded the word with "money," used as an adjective. Sort of a linguistic cross-up (which was a sweet play in Madden '92 when you had a fast third wideout, or just decided to put your halfback in the slot by running the shotgun with your normal offensive package on the field...although technically it was a pick play and should have been illegal...but then again, this was the game in which you could review and overturn pass interference penalties).

However, I could not find one reference that explained the true meaning of the term or its origin. I was going to ask this guy -- because (1) he's a journalist, and (2) he used the term last month in a way that implied he once learned its origin -- but his latest post mentioned how he is currently too busy to respond to e-mail. See, sometimes when a person writes stuff like that, a reader notices and decides not to send him mail he won't read! Kind of like how neurochemicals work.

From what I can tell, "two-graf" comes from print media; from a grid-like arrangement of content; and from the need to fill a small area that remains after the more important content has been arranged. And so far, it's my leading candidate, among Wonk Words Of The Day, for the Underutilized Inigo Montoya Quote Award ("I do not think it means what you think it means").

Of course, Faulkner once criticized Hemingway for hardly ever using a word that required the reader to look it up in the dictionary to see if it had been used correctly. Yes, I happen to know just about everything that is not the answer to a Trivial Pursuit question. [I knew you were wondering. See?]

One actress to bind them

Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was a brave fighter, a compelling leader, and an honorable man. An all-around smart guy, I would say. But I'm still trying to figure out what he saw in Arwen.

Granted, it has been several life-ages since I read The Lord Of The Rings. But in the books Arwen was a character with virtually no depth. Her role in the movies is oddly beefed up, but there is still no explanation of why she and Aragorn fell in love. And for some reason, Peter Jackson decided to cast Liv Tyler as Arwen, to whom this Brian Griffin quote certainly applies: "I leave more personality in tightly-coiled piles on the front lawn."

I have no issue with Aragorn's fidelity to Arwen -- aside from being the right thing to do, it's completely in character for him. But don't you think he must have been struggling for a while after meeting Éowyn? And not just because she iced the Witch-king. Aragorn will be king -- which of these two women seems more like a queen?

Something tells me that when Aragorn became betrothed to Arwen, he was still of the young mindset, "Hey, I landed an Elf chick, I could definitely live with this." For his sake, I just hope there really was more to it than that. Personally, I'd rather be Faramir. Yes, he was almost burned alive by his own father, but he also lived out his days with Éowyn. I'd say it was worth it.

And in retrospect, maybe casting Liv Tyler was the best possible decision. After all, there are few actresses that can successfully portray a porcelain doll.

Vodka defeats the king of the beasts

As I never can recall what nittany means, one would think I'd use Wonk's review of Penn State as an excuse to unravel the mystery of the word. But a mere 30 seconds of online research has reminded me about Pennsylvania's Mount Nittany. So much for that.

However, always one to rise to the occasion, Wonk came through with a gem that, mysteriously, was among the subjects I discussed while at Lemming's on Friday evening. [Brief review of Lemming's: Good draft beer selection, nice "atmosphere" with local artists' work on the walls, but poor actual atmosphere -- the smoke all but wafts out the front door.] Already aware of one use of the word -- the drink with vodka and lime juice -- I learned of another. Wonk has now introduced me to a third.

gimlet adj. having a piercing quality. (more)

Extra credit to anyone that can elegantly use this word in reference to something other than eyes.

For fantasy aficionados (of a sort), I also stumbled across one more meaning. [My favorite Lord Of The Rings-related joke is the Tolkien version of "Why did the chicken cross the road?" from the e-mail that circulated in 1996. Good luck finding it online, though -- it must have split off rather late in the forward evolutionary tree.]

Painting a picture with words

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Friday, November 11:

limn (LIMM) v. illustrate. (more)

My spidey sense told me there was something funny about this word. Sure enough, I looked into its origins and discovered it was first used in 1948, mere months after the widespread distribution of the board game Scrabble.

Yao makes me feel small

If you've ever wondered just how tall Yao Ming is, I think I can explain it to you. You know those green Gatorade bottles that you see on the sidelines at NBA and NFL games? I have one of them that I use to water my plant. [You can order them directly from Gatorade in packs of four for about $10, including shipping.] Anyway, I know how big it is. And tonight, after Yao picked up his traditional second foul of the game before reaching the first TV timeout, he sat down on the bench and was handed one of these Gatorade bottles.

It looked like a normal person holding a salt shaker.

Yao is 7'6", which means he probably sleeps sideways on a king-size bed because he has to, rather than for the novelty of it.

Yao is so tall that ESPN is now televising Rockets games in "expanded widescreen format" -- 16:12.

Yao is so tall that he was born on September 12th and 13th.

Yeah, that's a good one to go out on.

Memories of Welsh-Ryan Arena

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Thursday, November 10:

semiotic adj. indicative...? representative? noteworthy? I think I had a better feel for this word before I looked it up. I'm not even sure how it's best pronounced.

Rather than continuing to be puzzled by this word, I'll talk about Northwestern. Specifically, their team (Dan Shanoff's sleeper? I got a laugh out of that after reading Wonk today, NU has some work to do) and their arena. Actually, I'm done talking about their team, so let's move on to my four distinct memories of Welsh-Ryan Arena...

1. Age: really young. Event: college football pre-game band show. Which band: not sure. Take-away: really loud.
   
2. Age: 17. Event: regular season high school basketball game between Deerfield and New Trier, both elite teams at the time. Highlight, objectively speaking: A New Trier player hit a three-quarter court shot to beat the buzzer at the end of the third quarter. Lowlight: New Trier won. Upside: Deerfield lost.
3. Age: 18. Event: my high school graduation. Support for the argument that being memorable is more worthwhile than being good: My parents still mention the girl whose graduation speech was about her ratty old gym shoes. Recessional: the song from the last scene in Star Wars. That's right. For one moment in time, I was cooler than you.
   
4. Age: 19. Event: women's volleyball game between Illinois and Northwestern. Total attendance: not many. In practically empty gym, seat location chosen: front row, on the baseline. (No reason.)
   

We are living in a rectangular world

Using the power of deductive reasoning (although power may not be the best word, considering how long it took me), I arrived at the hypothesis that the floor in the corner of my living room is slightly slanted, causing my end table to lie slightly slanted as well. To test this hypothesis, I proposed to place a sphere on top of the table and observe whether and in which direction it rolled. Naturally, I expected prompt results. Sure enough, within fifteen minutes I was able to conclude that I do not own anything in the shape of a sphere.

How is this possible?

Now I know why I used to keep all those superballs in my "random stuff" box. Now I know why I used to keep a random stuff box to begin with. It's not a matter of cost, because the contents of my entire random stuff box could have been replaced for under $20. It's not a matter of nostalgia, because my random stuff was either nondescript or so old that I forgot why it would have had meaning. It's a matter of convenience -- of having that random piece of junk on hand just when I need it.

I think it may be too late to start up a new random stuff box. The only random stuff I encounter these days has some company's name printed on it, and it usually has a real function (refrigerator magnet, ballpoint pen, four-door sedan) that detracts from the ability to make-believe.

In some ways I long for the days when I built towers out of inverted 2-oz. plastic cups instead of filling them with modified Jell-o.

What does it all mean, Basil?

Today's Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day is another Wonk favorite:

oracular (or-ACK-yuh-lurr) adj. obscurely prophetic. (more)

I think Wonk focuses more on the ability of subjects (fellow bloggers and other writers) to deliver prophetic analysis and commentary, rather than the tendency to do so in an opaque and puzzling manner. Of course, I understand the statistics and methods being used, so perhaps to the less mathematically inclined, the methods used by these analysts may be inscrutable.

At the very least, though, I think we can be sure that Mark Tupper is more than just a sentient program.

Feedback inflation

"A+++++++++++++++++++++++++"

Let's get one thing straight. The only time this many plusses should appear after an A is in a Christmas Story fantasy.

Feedback on eBay should answer two questions:

• Were you generally satisfied with the transaction?


• What -- product quality, communication, delivery, packaging -- if anything did you find to be most noteworthy about the transaction?

Anything else -- like ALLCAPS, +++++++, or !!!!!!!! -- is equivalent to Amanda Peet's nude scene in The Whole Nine Yards. Unprovocative, purely distracting filler that has no reason for being there and signals everything is about to go downhill. If you appreciated how quickly I paid, just say so. If you want to kill Yanni Go-Go, just shoot him. And if you want to make a sequel...don't.

Rebounding really is one for all and all for one

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Tuesday, November 8:

congeries n. a sum total of many heterogenous things taken together. (more)

And get this -- it's used with a singular verb.

Congeries is the Rickey Henderson of English grammar.

[Most players either bat left and throw left or bat right and throw right. There are a few that bat left and throw right. And then there are Rickey and precious few others that bat right and throw left.]

My favorite grammatical anti-Rickey is the way in which Europeans (or probably all non-Americans) describe the actions of sports teams: "Chelsea sit comfortably atop the Premiership." One of my many pet peeves about American sports is how teams such as the Miami Heat and Utah Jazz are used with singular verbs. "The Heat rides a three-game winning streak into tonight's game." No. Please. Plural verbs for all. "The Jazz are coming to Chicago this Saturday, and I will be there." Ah. Better.

[By the way, today's runner-up: Obeisance. But I actually knew that one.]

Princess Leia's big risk

Princess Leia took an excessive risk, one that jeopardized the entire Rebel Alliance, as highlighted by a scene that should have been rewritten to make her ignorant of the situation instead.

"They're tracking us."

After Han, Luke, Chewie, Leia, and the droids escaped from the Death Star, Leia asserted that the Imperial forces allowed them to leave because they were tracking the Millennium Falcon, hoping to be led to others in the Rebel Alliance. She suddenly dismisses this belief, however, even though she has no reason to risk leading the Imperials to their quarry. As the only person onboard to know the location of the rebel base, as well as the person on whom Han was counting for payment, Leia held all the cards. If she suspected they were being tracked, she should have insisted that they land the Falcon and board another ship.

Switching ships was not a dominant strategy, but as the Imperials had no other leads on the location of the rebel base, there was no immediate need to reach the base and analyze the data carried by R2-D2. A delay if not being tracked would be a minor nuisance and would be greatly outweighed by the risk of having the base destroyed if indeed being tracked, given that Leia felt the tracking to be relatively likely (at least enough to mention). Everything that had been shown about Leia's character, to that point, indicated that she was astute enough to understand these risks and take the precautionary route.

And yet she allowed them to proceed to the rebel base, to where the Imperials did indeed track them. This out-of-character moment could have been avoided by simply removing the relevant lines of dialogue and focusing on Leia's hope that a weakness could be found, once the Death Star plans were analyzed. Ignorance isn't flattering, but it's easier to justify.

Of course, the rebels did find a weakness, which they were able to exploit, in part because the Death Star had to maneuver around a planet to get a clear shot at the moon on which their base was located. Quite ironic that the Death Star, which was designed solely to house a laser capable of destroying a planet, had to wait because a planet was in its way. [Yes, Alanis, this is irony.]

If you use it enough...

Because I was actually familiar with every word used in today's Big Ten Wonk post, the Word Of The Day will be a Wonk favorite:

indefatigable adj. showing sustained enthusiastic action with unflagging vitality. (more)

I believe the intent of the word is to emphasize passion and dedication, not endurance. Unfortunately, an alternate definition -- simply "tireless" -- is much more readily assumed by the unfamiliar reader upon first encountering the word. At least, that's how I first interpreted it last spring. What the word has going for it, though, is that it's slightly obscure enough to make one wonder, "Is that what it really means?"

Even the little people count

It's a cool feeling to write to a mainstream-media sports journalist and get a response.

In almost all cases, because of the volume of comments these people receive, the response is limited to one sentence, two tops. I'm aware of at least three types of responses along those lines:

1. The "briefest of acknowledgments, in case this reader is crazy" response. For example, a couple years ago I decided to write in to John Buccigross about hockey at the University of Illinois. However, I accidentally sent four copies of the message because I did something wrong with Web Mail. On the plus side, it does show that Bucci cares about his readers. Or at least his own safety.

2. The "I'll keep it in mind" response. This can occur when one actually has something concise, unique, and of interest to say. For example, I thought Jayson Stark's "Useless Info Dept." column could have run this question: "Who is the only player in major American sports who will be the last player in his league to wear a particular number, even though that number is not retired for him?" The answer: Mariano Rivera (Jackie Robinson's number 42). Never ran in the column, though. I think I've only encountered one mention of this by anyone, anywhere, in the several years since it became fact...so I guess no one really cares about this, no matter how unique it is.

(Speaking of which...something is either unique or it isn't, right? Are there degrees of uniqueness? And shouldn't unique have a much weirder-sounding nominalization, like uniquity?)

3. An actual response, despite its brevity. This usually only occurs with lesser-known writers that can actually spend the time to read all of their mail (i.e., definitely not Bill Simmons). The funny part about these is that they're usually one-liners -- like what you'd say in a men's room to complete strangers, never intending to speak with them again.

The funniest response I've ever received, though, is the kind of thing that no professional writer should ever send to a complete stranger. Unless, I guess, he realizes that he's not a big enough writer that anyone would take notice, even if what he said got out. Believing as I do in the sanctity of private communication, all I will say is that the subject of our discussion was Tiger Woods, and in a mere 2.5 sentences the writer used prick and a-hole in referring to the prominent golfer.

I still laugh at this.

There's at least one other category of response -- the detailed, well-considered response -- that I have witnessed on occasion. However, I'm still trying to understand what Aaron Schatz wrote. Still, I appreciate the effort, and maybe one day I'll really understand why successful third down plays are inherently more valuable than successful first down plays. (Rereading it, I think I'm almost there. Almost.)

"The Hawkeyes of Iowa"...actually sounds cool

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Friday, November 4:

synecdoche (sin-ECK-duh-kee) n. A figure of speech substituting a more inclusive term for a less inclusive one or vice versa. (more)

To get a better feel for it, I recommend reading the full definition/explanation, to which I've linked. It's a cool word and concept, and it would break some 12-year-old's heart at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. I mean, I'll probably never use the word in writing because of its unfathomable pronunciation. Conversely, I don't know how a kid, no matter how much home schooling he or she has had, could spell this based on the pronunciation. [Like country of origin is going to help.]

The metaphor of POY balloting

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Thursday, November 3:

ratiocinative (rash-ee-OSS-in-ay-tiv) adj. Marked by methodical and logical reasoning; based on exact thinking. (more)

I still think Bracey should have left school after his freshman year.

Warren needs to get nasty

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Wednesday, November 2:

irenic (eye-REE-nik) adj. Promoting peace; conciliatory. (more)

Kind of like Cerrano for the bulk of Major League 2.

Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day

Coinciding with the start of a new season for Big Ten Wonk, here's the inaugural Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day (messy acronym, so maybe I'll come up with a different name for it) for Tuesday, November 1.

ukase n. An authoritative order or decree. (more)

Jury's still out on preferred pronunciation. I'll pretend I'm my little brother and go with the definitely-wrong "yoo-KAH-see."