Today Big Ten Wonk opined that defensive rebounds are more important to defense than offensive rebounds are to offense. As everything comes back to Points Per Possession (PPP), I wondered whether teams score more points after an offensive rebound than they do on an average possession. This is difficult to track down because "second chance points" don't always appear in the box score. Only eight of Illinois's box scores to date have included second chance points. The numbers below are PPP / PPrP (the latter being Points Per rebounded Possession, calculated as second chance points divided by offensive rebounds). The first set is Illinois's defense (the other team's PPP) and the second set is Illinois's offense.
11/19 Florida A&M 1.04 / 0.80
11/21 Savannah State 0.53 / 1.40
11/25 Bradley 1.03 / 1.08
11/28 Maryland 1.01 / 1.11
12/06 IUPUI 0.86 / 1.00
12/17 Belmont 0.70 / 0.80
12/19 Missouri 1.06 / 1.22
12/21 Idaho State 1.10 / 1.18
11/19 vs. Florida A&M 1.39 / 1.16
11/21 vs. Savannah State 1.26 / 0.77
11/25 vs. Bradley 1.08 / 1.20
11/28 vs. Maryland 0.92 / 0.95
12/06 vs. IUPUI 1.27 / 1.25
12/17 vs. Belmont 1.06 / 0.78
12/19 vs. Missouri 1.11 / 1.29
12/21 vs. Idaho State 1.30 / 1.62
The weighted averages on defense are 0.91 / 1.07 -- Illinois gives up 0.16 more points per possession on opponents' offensive-rebounded possessions than on opponents' possessions overall. The numbers for Illinois's offense are more difficult to grasp. I think the weighted averages of 1.16 / 1.10 are misleading, due to early-season rebound fests.
As Wonk often observes, offensive rebounding and defensive rebounding are different skills. Lumping the two together is like using assist-to-turnover ratio -- it provides some insight, but the two aren't that intimately linked. But my point is that if a team's (take a deep breath) offensive marginal points per rebounded possession exceeds its defensive marginal points per rebounded possession, then its offensive rebounds are more important to its offense than its defensive rebounds are to its defense. And if Off mPPrP < Def mPPrP, then its Drebs are more important to its defense than its Orebs are to its offense.
In Illinois's case, right now I'd say that defensive rebounds are more important to the team's defensive consistency than offensive rebounds are to the team's offensive consistency. [It's great to change the question while giving the answer.] We know what's going to happen from game to game when Illinois gives up a defensive rebound -- the other team gets a small boost on the continued possession. When Illinois gets an offensive rebound, though, we really have no idea what's going to happen from game to game.
Friday, December 29, 2006
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Appealing a suspension should not be a negotiation
Carmelo Anthony was suspended for 15 games, and now he may appeal his suspension. He must be thinking like Cher in Clueless: "Well, some teachers are trying to low-ball me, Daddy. And I know how you say, 'Never accept a first offer,' so I figure these grades are just a jumping off point to start negotiations."
I once had a professor that told his students that a request for a regrade would open the exam up to any re-evaluation, not just on the issue for which the student thought he was unfairly graded. The insinuation was that a student could end up with a lower score after the regrade.
A 15-game suspension is not inherently unfair. What Anthony's representatives would argue is that it is unfair in the context of the collective bargaining agreement and case law (the league's past disciplinary measures). As the appeal should be handled by a neutral party -- thanks, AP writer, for failing to mention who would handle a prospective appeal -- the NBA Office of Discipline (that would look so great on a business card) would present its own argument. Who's to say whether 15 games is actually an insufficient punishment, and that the arbiter of the appeal could order a longer suspension? [*cough*Stephen Jackson*cough*] I get the feeling this would never happen in the NBA, but we don't hear anything from the players that think, "You know, I got off light, I'll shut my mouth and do the time."
Maybe the NBA could end up where the English Premier League is. On a corner kick in the waning moments of Saturday's match against Sheffield United, Wigan's Lee McCulloch freed himself from his defender with a punch below the right eye. The referee didn't catch it, but the TV cameras did. The FA charged McCulloch with violent conduct, meriting a three-game suspension, and he accepted the suspension. Perhaps this is because the FA gives players under 48 hours to respond. Good luck drafting an argument based on case law in that time. And the FA deals with more extreme cases in the same way: "This is what you did. It was bad. If you can possibly justify it, tell us now, but...I mean, come on."
I know little about NBA case law, but I do remember Michael Barrett clocking A. J. Pierzynski and getting only 10 games (6% of the MLB season...and he didn't appeal). Hockey players fight all the time and usually end up with just a game misconduct. But basketball is different. Closer. More intimate. And case law may not be as applicable here. Fighting is bad, and David Stern wants it out of the game. Why shouldn't Carmelo's actions cost him 18% of the NBA season? Why shouldn't it be more? Is there anything in the CBA that actually supports fighting? What Carmelo did was bad. I know he was egged on, but if fighting is bad, how can he possibly justify what he did?
[Update: Carmelo decided not to appeal, and Marc Stein did mention who handles which appeals.]
I once had a professor that told his students that a request for a regrade would open the exam up to any re-evaluation, not just on the issue for which the student thought he was unfairly graded. The insinuation was that a student could end up with a lower score after the regrade.
A 15-game suspension is not inherently unfair. What Anthony's representatives would argue is that it is unfair in the context of the collective bargaining agreement and case law (the league's past disciplinary measures). As the appeal should be handled by a neutral party -- thanks, AP writer, for failing to mention who would handle a prospective appeal -- the NBA Office of Discipline (that would look so great on a business card) would present its own argument. Who's to say whether 15 games is actually an insufficient punishment, and that the arbiter of the appeal could order a longer suspension? [*cough*Stephen Jackson*cough*] I get the feeling this would never happen in the NBA, but we don't hear anything from the players that think, "You know, I got off light, I'll shut my mouth and do the time."
Maybe the NBA could end up where the English Premier League is. On a corner kick in the waning moments of Saturday's match against Sheffield United, Wigan's Lee McCulloch freed himself from his defender with a punch below the right eye. The referee didn't catch it, but the TV cameras did. The FA charged McCulloch with violent conduct, meriting a three-game suspension, and he accepted the suspension. Perhaps this is because the FA gives players under 48 hours to respond. Good luck drafting an argument based on case law in that time. And the FA deals with more extreme cases in the same way: "This is what you did. It was bad. If you can possibly justify it, tell us now, but...I mean, come on."
I know little about NBA case law, but I do remember Michael Barrett clocking A. J. Pierzynski and getting only 10 games (6% of the MLB season...and he didn't appeal). Hockey players fight all the time and usually end up with just a game misconduct. But basketball is different. Closer. More intimate. And case law may not be as applicable here. Fighting is bad, and David Stern wants it out of the game. Why shouldn't Carmelo's actions cost him 18% of the NBA season? Why shouldn't it be more? Is there anything in the CBA that actually supports fighting? What Carmelo did was bad. I know he was egged on, but if fighting is bad, how can he possibly justify what he did?
[Update: Carmelo decided not to appeal, and Marc Stein did mention who handles which appeals.]
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
We were going to redshirt this guy?
It's halftime of the Maryland-Illinois game, and I have one question: We were going to redshirt Brian Carlwell?
BC (yes, I've already nicknamed him) looked really raw against Georgia Southern, but a mere two weeks later against Maryland he looks like he belongs. He showed good awareness and control under the basket on both ends. My only complaint is that he dunks just like my high school classmate Carl Claxton: jump straight up, pause in air for split second, dunk by placing full body weight on rim. Better is this: jump at rim, dunk immediately without hanging on rim.
BC (yes, I've already nicknamed him) looked really raw against Georgia Southern, but a mere two weeks later against Maryland he looks like he belongs. He showed good awareness and control under the basket on both ends. My only complaint is that he dunks just like my high school classmate Carl Claxton: jump straight up, pause in air for split second, dunk by placing full body weight on rim. Better is this: jump at rim, dunk immediately without hanging on rim.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Give me three inconsequential wishes
If I were given three wishes, but I could only wish for changes of negligible consequence...
- Michigan State center Goran Suton would do nothing on offense but set baseline screens.
- No NHL team other than the Detroit Red Wings would be allowed to wear red pants with red jerseys. Carolina, stop fighting it; embrace the blue-green Whale. Phoenix...you're freaking Phoenix. No hockey team in Arizona has a claim to anything.
- The Boston Red Sox would sign Sammy Sosa.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Is the 1 seed a better team?
SI.com's Don Banks wrote this piece pointing out that earning the top seed in a conference is no guarantee of a Super Bowl birth. He's right, although he fails to state that the top seed still has a heck of a better chance to make the Super Bowl than any other team. But have 1 seeds actually played to a level that says they're better than other playoff teams? Is the regular season champ really the best team?
1 seeds have a first-round bye, and second-round games significantly favor the teams with a bye week, but there is no bye-week effect on third-round games. For the 1 seed, third-round games are always at home, but does the 1 seeds' winning percentage exceed that which we would predict from home field advantage alone?
Since the playoffs first admitted 12 teams in 1990, 1 seeds have won 62% of their third-round games (16 of 26). During the 2002-2005 regular seasons, home teams won 59% of their games. Based on this alone -- and this is the level of complexity I would like to see in a weekly lead item for a major sports website -- I would suggest that, on average, 1 seeds have played third-round playoff games as though they were slightly better than their opponents.
Look how simple that was! I didn't even have to take a jab at Peyton Manning's laser-rocket arm.
Other stuff:
1 seeds have a first-round bye, and second-round games significantly favor the teams with a bye week, but there is no bye-week effect on third-round games. For the 1 seed, third-round games are always at home, but does the 1 seeds' winning percentage exceed that which we would predict from home field advantage alone?
Since the playoffs first admitted 12 teams in 1990, 1 seeds have won 62% of their third-round games (16 of 26). During the 2002-2005 regular seasons, home teams won 59% of their games. Based on this alone -- and this is the level of complexity I would like to see in a weekly lead item for a major sports website -- I would suggest that, on average, 1 seeds have played third-round playoff games as though they were slightly better than their opponents.
Look how simple that was! I didn't even have to take a jab at Peyton Manning's laser-rocket arm.
Other stuff:
- Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day: risible -- it's pronounced RIZZ, but it means capable of getting a RISE out of people through humor. I get the feeling that risible refers to actual humor, as opposed to laughable's derisive connotation. My attempt: "Futurama occasionally and unexpectedly paperclips a moment of poignancy to the denouement of a thoroughly risible episode."
- I was going to compile with a "Were you really paying attention?" quiz on 2006 sports trivia, but all I could come up with was this: "What was the St. Louis Cardinals' regular season record?"
- Mike Tanier's last Too Deep Zone article was so awesome that I now want to see a distribution graph for each running back. Eventually we'd get to the point where we'd say, "Ahman Green? Yeah, he's a :: whoosh :: runner." [Making the appropriate hand motion.]
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
First thoughts on the Freshman Album Theory
Actual (yet fleeting) sports content alert! I wonder how Tom Izzo's conditioning program compares to Bruce Weber's. I also wonder why Bruce Weber doesn't take advantage of his team's potentially superior conditioning by running teams out of the gym in the second half when playing with a lead. Last year's Penn State game was the college basketball equivalent of Martyball.
Brief follow-up on last week's note -- I accidentally clicked a link that took me to Big Ten Wonk's March 2, 2006, entry, in which Wonk used Hegelian to describe the existence, or perhaps the perpetuation, of extreme home field advantage in the Big Ten. Unfortunately, I now have even less of a clue about the word means. At least as Wonk uses it.
This week Wonk broke out quite the arsenal of big words, although I attribute this in large part to my Freshman Album Theory. The sophomore album of many bands fails to match the quality of the first (i.e., freshman) album. I believe this is because most bands spend at least five years writing and performing their music before they get to release an album with a major record label. Over these years a band has ample opportunity to write for quantity and choose for quality -- the band learns what songs are objectively good and has enough to choose from to put together a solid album. After the album's release, the band goes on tour to support the album, and then may take time off to celebrate newfound popularity. Suddenly the band realizes the label wants to release another album in six months, giving the band just four to six weeks to write new material for the album. The band faces an uphill battle to capture in such a short time the same creativity and quality that went into the first album.
Wonk undoubtedly spent much of September and October putting together his alphabetically-sensitive preseason walk-arounds, meaning he had ample time to include references to all sorts of philosophers unknown to those of us with conservative arts degrees. [Grammar doesn't accommodate that type of NOT statement. Besides, it's election week. Anyway, you understand me.] I doubt that similar references will be as frequent when Wonk has to generate a new post daily over the next five months. Although perhaps that entry from
March should make me think again.
Of course, I expect the references to indefatigable columnists and oracular bloggers to remain consistent throughout.
The two winners for this week, along with what I think they Wonk is using them to say:
Brief follow-up on last week's note -- I accidentally clicked a link that took me to Big Ten Wonk's March 2, 2006, entry, in which Wonk used Hegelian to describe the existence, or perhaps the perpetuation, of extreme home field advantage in the Big Ten. Unfortunately, I now have even less of a clue about the word means. At least as Wonk uses it.
This week Wonk broke out quite the arsenal of big words, although I attribute this in large part to my Freshman Album Theory. The sophomore album of many bands fails to match the quality of the first (i.e., freshman) album. I believe this is because most bands spend at least five years writing and performing their music before they get to release an album with a major record label. Over these years a band has ample opportunity to write for quantity and choose for quality -- the band learns what songs are objectively good and has enough to choose from to put together a solid album. After the album's release, the band goes on tour to support the album, and then may take time off to celebrate newfound popularity. Suddenly the band realizes the label wants to release another album in six months, giving the band just four to six weeks to write new material for the album. The band faces an uphill battle to capture in such a short time the same creativity and quality that went into the first album.
Wonk undoubtedly spent much of September and October putting together his alphabetically-sensitive preseason walk-arounds, meaning he had ample time to include references to all sorts of philosophers unknown to those of us with conservative arts degrees. [Grammar doesn't accommodate that type of NOT statement. Besides, it's election week. Anyway, you understand me.] I doubt that similar references will be as frequent when Wonk has to generate a new post daily over the next five months. Although perhaps that entry from
March should make me think again.
Of course, I expect the references to indefatigable columnists and oracular bloggers to remain consistent throughout.
The two winners for this week, along with what I think they Wonk is using them to say:
- epistemological = challenging the accepted explanation for what something means (used mockingly)
- Manichaeism = a philosophy that explicitly divides the world into good and evil (used to emphasize the extremes-with-no-middle-ground nature of the beliefs concerning prospects for Michigan's season)
Thursday, November 02, 2006
John Clayton hearts the Raiders
Each Thursday ESPN.com publishes John Clayton's "First...and 10" column, which previews 11 of the weekend's NFL games. In any given week there are at least 13 games with 26 teams playing, meaning that each week not every team that is playing is included in the column. Last year I found it funny that Clayton continued to leave the Bears out of his column, even though they were on their way to a first-round bye. So this year I've kept track.
As weeks 3-9 of the NFL season include byes, only four or six teams per week were excluded from the column for those weeks. In the second half of the season, five games and ten teams per week will be excluded from Clayton's column, but at least things can't get much worse for the Texans than they already are. From the column's standpoint, at least.
Through the first nine weeks (eight games) of the season, here is how often each team was included in the column, and how often each team was chosen for the first/headlining game:
Some of this has to do with a team's opponent as well as the team itself; the Bears made the column for their first six games but were left off for their last two, home dates against the 49ers and the Dolphins.
The usual suspects appear toward the bottom: Texans, Titans, 49ers, Dolphins, Packers, Browns. The Colts lead in headliners, followed by the Terrell Owens Experience in the NFC East. Perfect teams include the Steelers and Seahawks (last year's Super Bowl participants), the Cowboys (all T.O., all the time), the Bengals and Buccaneers (last year's two division winners for which, in PFP 2006, Football Outsiders predicted a significant drop), and...
The Oakland Raiders?!? This can't be entirely opponent-based, because here were the Raiders' first four games:
As for the second half of the season, I predict the Bears will finally make the headliner game at least once in November, and probably twice: at the Giants in week 10 and at the Patriots in week 12.
Also, this would be quite possibly the lamest excuse for a suicide pool, but next week I very well may start picking a game I think will be excluded from the column that week.
As weeks 3-9 of the NFL season include byes, only four or six teams per week were excluded from the column for those weeks. In the second half of the season, five games and ten teams per week will be excluded from Clayton's column, but at least things can't get much worse for the Texans than they already are. From the column's standpoint, at least.
Through the first nine weeks (eight games) of the season, here is how often each team was included in the column, and how often each team was chosen for the first/headlining game:
| Team | Included | First | ||
| DAL | 8 | 2 | ||
| SEA | 8 | 1 | ||
| CIN | 8 | 0 | ||
| OAK | 8 | 0 | ||
| PIT | 8 | 0 | ||
| TB | 8 | 0 | ||
| NYG | 7 | 2 | ||
| PHI | 7 | 2 | ||
| ATL | 7 | 1 | ||
| BAL | 7 | 1 | ||
| CAR | 7 | 1 | ||
| DEN | 7 | 1 | ||
| JAX | 7 | 1 | ||
| NE | 7 | 1 | ||
| DET | 7 | 0 | ||
| MIN | 7 | 0 | ||
| NYJ | 7 | 0 | ||
| IND | 6 | 3 | ||
| SD | 6 | 1 | ||
| STL | 6 | 1 | ||
| ARI | 6 | 0 | ||
| BUF | 6 | 0 | ||
| CHI | 6 | 0 | ||
| KC | 6 | 0 | ||
| NO | 6 | 0 | ||
| WAS | 6 | 0 | ||
| CLE | 5 | 0 | ||
| GB | 4 | 0 | ||
| MIA | 4 | 0 | ||
| SF | 3 | 0 | ||
| TEN | 2 | 0 | ||
| HOU | 1 | 0 |
Some of this has to do with a team's opponent as well as the team itself; the Bears made the column for their first six games but were left off for their last two, home dates against the 49ers and the Dolphins.
The usual suspects appear toward the bottom: Texans, Titans, 49ers, Dolphins, Packers, Browns. The Colts lead in headliners, followed by the Terrell Owens Experience in the NFC East. Perfect teams include the Steelers and Seahawks (last year's Super Bowl participants), the Cowboys (all T.O., all the time), the Bengals and Buccaneers (last year's two division winners for which, in PFP 2006, Football Outsiders predicted a significant drop), and...
The Oakland Raiders?!? This can't be entirely opponent-based, because here were the Raiders' first four games:
- vs. SD (no byes this week)
- at BAL (no byes)
- vs. CLE
- at SF
As for the second half of the season, I predict the Bears will finally make the headliner game at least once in November, and probably twice: at the Giants in week 10 and at the Patriots in week 12.
Also, this would be quite possibly the lamest excuse for a suicide pool, but next week I very well may start picking a game I think will be excluded from the column that week.
Conflicting opinions are to be embraced
That's right, the Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day is back. Although this time without hyperlinks, because (1) I'm lazy, and (2) if you can't find Wonk's blog or a dictionary site, I'm amazed you found this one.
Hegel was a scientist of philosophy, and I get the feeling I'd need about two semesters to understand his theories. I think basically what he was saying was that contradictions and implications on reality should be explored to reach a more comprehensive understanding of the original concept. So while Illinois lost Deron Williams, Luther Head, Roger Powell, and Jack Ingram, which everyone would expect would make the team worse, their defense was just as good the following year.
Or something like that.
Let's just say I'll never use the word Hegelian on my own.
The past two seasons of Illinois basketball provide a handy illustration of how continuity can coexist happily alongside change. (How Hegelian!)For those unfamiliar with this theme of mine...Big Ten Wonk has a penchant for using roughly one word per day with which I am unfamiliar (for whatever that's worth); and whether intentionally or not, he uses the word in a manner outside its traditional meaning.
Hegel was a scientist of philosophy, and I get the feeling I'd need about two semesters to understand his theories. I think basically what he was saying was that contradictions and implications on reality should be explored to reach a more comprehensive understanding of the original concept. So while Illinois lost Deron Williams, Luther Head, Roger Powell, and Jack Ingram, which everyone would expect would make the team worse, their defense was just as good the following year.
Or something like that.
Let's just say I'll never use the word Hegelian on my own.
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Recipe: Korean BBQ shrimp stir fry
Prep time: 10 minutes
Cooking time: 10 minutes (excluding rice)
Serves: 2
Ingredients:
1/2 lb. 41-50 count precooked shrimp
1 orange bell pepper
6 oz. snap peas
4 oz. mushrooms
cooking spray
1/2 cup Trader Joe's Korean Style BBQ Sauce
rice
Preparation:
From largest pieces to smallest, after preparation: shrimp, bell pepper, snap peas, mushrooms.
Cut shrimp in half.
Chop bell pepper into 2/3-inch squares.
Cut snap peas in thirds.
Finely dice mushrooms.
Cooking:
Preheat frying pan at medium-to-high heat.
Cover pan with cooking spray.
Add shrimp. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add bell pepper, snap peas, and mushrooms. Cook for another 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Once all ingredients are hot, but while snap peas are still crunchy, stir in sauce. Cook for 1 more minute, then serve over rice.
Cooking time: 10 minutes (excluding rice)
Serves: 2
Ingredients:
1/2 lb. 41-50 count precooked shrimp
1 orange bell pepper
6 oz. snap peas
4 oz. mushrooms
cooking spray
1/2 cup Trader Joe's Korean Style BBQ Sauce
rice
Preparation:
From largest pieces to smallest, after preparation: shrimp, bell pepper, snap peas, mushrooms.
Cut shrimp in half.
Chop bell pepper into 2/3-inch squares.
Cut snap peas in thirds.
Finely dice mushrooms.
Cooking:
Preheat frying pan at medium-to-high heat.
Cover pan with cooking spray.
Add shrimp. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add bell pepper, snap peas, and mushrooms. Cook for another 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Once all ingredients are hot, but while snap peas are still crunchy, stir in sauce. Cook for 1 more minute, then serve over rice.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Let me explain this in plain English...um...
Sammy Sosa can't believe he was not included in a list of five Chicago Cubs "Hometown Heroes."
That's great, Sammy. Whom would you bump from the list?
Ernie Banks -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
Ferguson Jenkins -- Hall of Famer
Ryne Sandberg -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
Ron Santo -- number retired by Cubs
Billy Williams -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
The Cubs have only retired the numbers of four players, and all four of those players made the list. The Cubs also have had only four players in the past 50 years that spent more than two years as a Cub and were elected to the Hall of Fame, and all four of those players made the list. So when you pull off one of those, Sammy, I'll listen to you.
That's great, Sammy. Whom would you bump from the list?
Ernie Banks -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
Ferguson Jenkins -- Hall of Famer
Ryne Sandberg -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
Ron Santo -- number retired by Cubs
Billy Williams -- Hall of Famer; number retired by Cubs
The Cubs have only retired the numbers of four players, and all four of those players made the list. The Cubs also have had only four players in the past 50 years that spent more than two years as a Cub and were elected to the Hall of Fame, and all four of those players made the list. So when you pull off one of those, Sammy, I'll listen to you.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Not a good year to receive AP Coach of the Year votes (and why Bruce Weber still rocks the house)
I got a chuckle out of how this year's AP Coach of the Year vote recipients' teams performed in the NCAA tournament, with respect to their seed:
Roy Williams, North Carolina (29 votes, -1 round*)
Jay Wright, Villanova (15, -1)
Bruce Pearl, Tennessee (11, -2)
Bill Self, Kansas (7, -2)
Thad Matta, Ohio State (5, -2)
John Calipari, Memphis (2, -1)
Karl Hobbs, George Washington (1, 0)
Ben Howland, UCLA (1, +1 or more)
Al Skinner, Boston College (1, 0)
*[I'm defining this as the number of games a team wins in the tournament minus the number of games the team is originally (i.e., ignoring upsets) supposed to win within its region based on seeding. Anything in the Final Four is a bonus, even for 1-seeds, because in theory the Final Four should be all 1-seeds.]
So of the teams with the top six vote-getters, not one lived up to its seed in the tournament.
Last year, you ask?
Bruce Weber, Illinois (54 votes, +1 round)
Mike Krzyzewski, Duke (6, -2)
Al Skinner, Boston College (5, -1)
Lorenzo Romar, Washington (4, -2)
others (3, unknown...because some AP writer decided these votes weren't worth mentioning, and now they've vanished into the mists of antiquity)
In 2004 the teams of the top two vote recipients, Phil Martelli (29, -1) and Eddie Sutton (13, +1), were cast as the 1-seed and 2-seed in the same region.
And as it's not quite 5:00pm, here is how the teams of each of the past winners performed in the tournament, back to 1985:
2006 Roy Williams, North Carolina 3 seed, -2 rounds
2005 Bruce Weber, Illinois 1, +1
2004 Phil Martelli, Saint Joseph's 1, -1
2003 Tubby Smith, Kentucky 1, -1
2002 Ben Howland, Pittsburgh 3, 0 (although the loss was to 10-seed Kent State)
2001 Matt Doherty, North Carolina 2, -2
2000 Larry Eustachy, Iowa State 2, 0
1999 Cliff Ellis, Auburn 1, -2
1998 Tom Izzo, Michigan State 4, 0
1997 Clem Haskins, Minnesota 1, 0
1996 Gene Keady, Purdue 1, -3
1995 Kelvin Sampson, Oklahoma 4, -2
1994 Norm Stewart, Missouri 1, -1
1993 Eddie Fogler, Vanderbilt 3, 0 (although the loss was to 7-seed Temple)
1992 Roy Williams, Kansas 1, -3
1991 Randy Ayers, Ohio State 1, -2
1990 Jim Calhoun, Connecticut 1, -1 (Laettner I)
1989 Bob Knight, Indiana 2, -1
1988 John Chaney, Temple 1, -1
1987 Tom Davis, Iowa 2, 0
1986 Eddie Sutton, Kentucky 1, -1 (11-seed LSU)
1985 Bill Frieder, Michigan 1, -3 (8-seed, and eventual champion, Villanova)
Sure, the higher a seed a team has, the more games they have to win to live up to their seed. Still, in the past 22 years, Bruce Weber is the only AP Coach of the Year to lead his team to additional victories beyond validating their seed. In fact, only two the past thirteen 1-seeds led by an AP Coach of the Year validated their seed with a trip to the Final Four.
Roy Williams, North Carolina (29 votes, -1 round*)
Jay Wright, Villanova (15, -1)
Bruce Pearl, Tennessee (11, -2)
Bill Self, Kansas (7, -2)
Thad Matta, Ohio State (5, -2)
John Calipari, Memphis (2, -1)
Karl Hobbs, George Washington (1, 0)
Ben Howland, UCLA (1, +1 or more)
Al Skinner, Boston College (1, 0)
*[I'm defining this as the number of games a team wins in the tournament minus the number of games the team is originally (i.e., ignoring upsets) supposed to win within its region based on seeding. Anything in the Final Four is a bonus, even for 1-seeds, because in theory the Final Four should be all 1-seeds.]
So of the teams with the top six vote-getters, not one lived up to its seed in the tournament.
Last year, you ask?
Bruce Weber, Illinois (54 votes, +1 round)
Mike Krzyzewski, Duke (6, -2)
Al Skinner, Boston College (5, -1)
Lorenzo Romar, Washington (4, -2)
others (3, unknown...because some AP writer decided these votes weren't worth mentioning, and now they've vanished into the mists of antiquity)
In 2004 the teams of the top two vote recipients, Phil Martelli (29, -1) and Eddie Sutton (13, +1), were cast as the 1-seed and 2-seed in the same region.
And as it's not quite 5:00pm, here is how the teams of each of the past winners performed in the tournament, back to 1985:
2006 Roy Williams, North Carolina 3 seed, -2 rounds
2005 Bruce Weber, Illinois 1, +1
2004 Phil Martelli, Saint Joseph's 1, -1
2003 Tubby Smith, Kentucky 1, -1
2002 Ben Howland, Pittsburgh 3, 0 (although the loss was to 10-seed Kent State)
2001 Matt Doherty, North Carolina 2, -2
2000 Larry Eustachy, Iowa State 2, 0
1999 Cliff Ellis, Auburn 1, -2
1998 Tom Izzo, Michigan State 4, 0
1997 Clem Haskins, Minnesota 1, 0
1996 Gene Keady, Purdue 1, -3
1995 Kelvin Sampson, Oklahoma 4, -2
1994 Norm Stewart, Missouri 1, -1
1993 Eddie Fogler, Vanderbilt 3, 0 (although the loss was to 7-seed Temple)
1992 Roy Williams, Kansas 1, -3
1991 Randy Ayers, Ohio State 1, -2
1990 Jim Calhoun, Connecticut 1, -1 (Laettner I)
1989 Bob Knight, Indiana 2, -1
1988 John Chaney, Temple 1, -1
1987 Tom Davis, Iowa 2, 0
1986 Eddie Sutton, Kentucky 1, -1 (11-seed LSU)
1985 Bill Frieder, Michigan 1, -3 (8-seed, and eventual champion, Villanova)
Sure, the higher a seed a team has, the more games they have to win to live up to their seed. Still, in the past 22 years, Bruce Weber is the only AP Coach of the Year to lead his team to additional victories beyond validating their seed. In fact, only two the past thirteen 1-seeds led by an AP Coach of the Year validated their seed with a trip to the Final Four.
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Even in politics, two wrongs still don't make a right
Today U.S. Rep. Bill Young (R-Fla.) took the floor of the House of Representatives to condemn the treatment of his wife, Beverly, at last night's State of the Union address. Great job, Bill. Here's why this was a political stunt, pure and simple.
"House rules bar demonstrations in the galleries." This is Rep. Young's 18th term in the House; I'm sure both he and his wife are aware of the rules. This is also George W. Bush's sixth State of the Union address, and he's held office for five years; I think the entire nation knows how his administration feels about letting people do things in their own way. Additionally, it isn't too far-fetched to suggest that Rep. and Mrs. Young knew that anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan had been invited to attend, and would likely attempt to make an unspoken statement of some kind (which she did).
Putting all this together, Mrs. Young showed up to the State of the Union address in a shirt that would undoubtedly be censored, just so her husband could feign outrage the following day to drown out any backlash over Mrs. Sheehan's arrest (although I'm surprised they actually arrested her...it's not like this was the Final Four or anything).
I have no problem with the message on Mrs. Young's shirt -- "Support the Troops Defending Our Freedom" -- but there's a difference between wearing a symbolic ribbon and wearing a shirt with text on it. There are times to make an overt statement, and last night was not one of those times. All attention at the State of the Union should be on the president, and any attempt to draw attention away from the president during the event is inappropriate. I believe the motivation for Mrs. Young to wear her shirt came in part from the desire to cancel out the impact of anything Mrs. Sheehan might do, but that doesn't justify it. Doing something wrong isn't the way to make something else right.
"House rules bar demonstrations in the galleries." This is Rep. Young's 18th term in the House; I'm sure both he and his wife are aware of the rules. This is also George W. Bush's sixth State of the Union address, and he's held office for five years; I think the entire nation knows how his administration feels about letting people do things in their own way. Additionally, it isn't too far-fetched to suggest that Rep. and Mrs. Young knew that anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan had been invited to attend, and would likely attempt to make an unspoken statement of some kind (which she did).
Putting all this together, Mrs. Young showed up to the State of the Union address in a shirt that would undoubtedly be censored, just so her husband could feign outrage the following day to drown out any backlash over Mrs. Sheehan's arrest (although I'm surprised they actually arrested her...it's not like this was the Final Four or anything).
I have no problem with the message on Mrs. Young's shirt -- "Support the Troops Defending Our Freedom" -- but there's a difference between wearing a symbolic ribbon and wearing a shirt with text on it. There are times to make an overt statement, and last night was not one of those times. All attention at the State of the Union should be on the president, and any attempt to draw attention away from the president during the event is inappropriate. I believe the motivation for Mrs. Young to wear her shirt came in part from the desire to cancel out the impact of anything Mrs. Sheehan might do, but that doesn't justify it. Doing something wrong isn't the way to make something else right.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
The treatment of Intelligent Design
Is the theory of Intelligent Design held to abnormal standards by the scientific community?
ID exists in the environment of today, and that environment that can be characterized by multiple, distinct dimensions. These dimensions include time (the year 2006) and field (biology). The comparison of ID to the early years of evolution theory holds all dimensions constant save time. The inherent uncertainty in reliance on historical records presents a challenge in our development of a full understanding of the environment of evolution theory in its early years. Any comparisons we may yet draw will suffice only to describe how the environment may change along this one dimension -- a partial derivative, so to speak, with respect to time.
It is certainly valid to consider a comparison that holds all dimensions, including time, constant save the field of study. To what standard are other scientific theories in their early stages held in the present day? How does the treatment of ID compare with the treatment of new theories in anthropology, seismology, or quantum physics? In other words, what is the partial derivative with respect to field?
Does the theory of Intelligent Design receive abnormal promotion from its supporters?
In the present day there are undoubtedly individuals and groups whose passion for their own theory, in their own field, is as great as or greater than ID proponents’ passion for ID. How does ID compare to other theories with respect to the following:
- production of for-profit books and other items in support of the theory;
- appearances in mainstream media reports; and
- funds allocated for research and awareness?
If ID does receive abnormal promotion, there are two possible reasons why. First, ID’s proponents may have ulterior motives. The terms “for-profit” and “awareness” hint at this possibility. Second, ID’s proponents may feel that ID is more important, socially and culturally, than other new theories. Quite simply, why? Why is ID so important that it should be thrust into the public consciousness prior to the development of a scientific core of evidence?
Thursday, January 19, 2006
Worth the stretch
Big Ten Wonk Word Of The Day for Thursday, January 19:
lacuna (luh-CUE-nuh) n. An empty space or a missing part. (more)
At first glance, I thought this word would describe a sexual position to be used during a full moon. Or maybe a combination of the two. Guess I was wrong. Bonus points for the add-an-"e" pluralization, though.
A defining characteristic of a Wonk Word Of The Day is its debatable usage. Is it too much of a stretch to use an anatomical term to describe a player's failure to contribute? The fact is that any difficult word that appears in a discussion about sports is probably a stretch simply because it appears in a discussion about sports. At least when Wonk does it, he uses a word that's so far beyond the sports landscape that it's obvious he knows what it really means. Even if it's not always a perfect fit, sometimes it's more descriptive to grasp at a distant comparison than to use a more common, accepted, boring turn of phrase.
Plus I'm always in favor of learning a new word.
lacuna (luh-CUE-nuh) n. An empty space or a missing part. (more)
At first glance, I thought this word would describe a sexual position to be used during a full moon. Or maybe a combination of the two. Guess I was wrong. Bonus points for the add-an-"e" pluralization, though.
A defining characteristic of a Wonk Word Of The Day is its debatable usage. Is it too much of a stretch to use an anatomical term to describe a player's failure to contribute? The fact is that any difficult word that appears in a discussion about sports is probably a stretch simply because it appears in a discussion about sports. At least when Wonk does it, he uses a word that's so far beyond the sports landscape that it's obvious he knows what it really means. Even if it's not always a perfect fit, sometimes it's more descriptive to grasp at a distant comparison than to use a more common, accepted, boring turn of phrase.
Plus I'm always in favor of learning a new word.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Superstition ain't the way
sports fan : superstitious :: dog : licks self
It only takes one. One event so "traumatic" that it forever alters the way you think.
The sports fan in me wasn't superstitious until Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS. I was at home, lying down on my couch, for the first seven innings of the game. Then before the top of the eighth, I sat up. I don't blame myself (wait, that's not 100% true), and I don't think that I caused events a half-mile west along Addison to happen as they did. While Big Ten Wonk has mentioned the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy, I think sports fans fall somewhere between Vulcan logic and fantasy. Between causality and coincidence lies superstition.
Superstition happens after just as much as it happens before. When Illinois coughed up a 17-6 lead in the blink of an eye, I thought to myself, "Should I have waited until the TV timeout to start eating my buffalo wings?" When Charles Tillman fell down on the second play from scrimmage, I tried to figure out what I should have done differently. Superstition means second-guessing as much as it means preparing.
I don't really think that I caused any of those things to happen. I understand the concept of the butterfly effect, but I believe that chaos outweighs anything I could do. [The random -- yes, apparently it is random, on a quantum level -- nature of interactions of atomic and subatomic particles means that nothing I would be likely to do could be "heard" above the "noise" of randomness by the time it reached the subject of my attention.] That's the scientific rationalization. But I do second-guess myself all the time. Yes, James probably should have made that jump-hook. But if I had been standing up at the time, would it have gone in?
I'm used to being in control of much of what goes on in my life. My brain constantly evaluates how I do in these matters. I try not to care about the things that I don't control, but with sports, I have decided to care. Caring leads to evaluation, which leads to second-guessing. I don't second-guess whether I should have been sitting in a different seat when Vanderjagt pushed that field goal attempt into immortality. But I do wonder whether Shaun Pruitt would have hit those free throws if I had only used my straw rather than drinking straight out of my water glass.
It only takes one. One event so "traumatic" that it forever alters the way you think.
The sports fan in me wasn't superstitious until Game 6 of the 2003 NLCS. I was at home, lying down on my couch, for the first seven innings of the game. Then before the top of the eighth, I sat up. I don't blame myself (wait, that's not 100% true), and I don't think that I caused events a half-mile west along Addison to happen as they did. While Big Ten Wonk has mentioned the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy, I think sports fans fall somewhere between Vulcan logic and fantasy. Between causality and coincidence lies superstition.
Superstition happens after just as much as it happens before. When Illinois coughed up a 17-6 lead in the blink of an eye, I thought to myself, "Should I have waited until the TV timeout to start eating my buffalo wings?" When Charles Tillman fell down on the second play from scrimmage, I tried to figure out what I should have done differently. Superstition means second-guessing as much as it means preparing.
I don't really think that I caused any of those things to happen. I understand the concept of the butterfly effect, but I believe that chaos outweighs anything I could do. [The random -- yes, apparently it is random, on a quantum level -- nature of interactions of atomic and subatomic particles means that nothing I would be likely to do could be "heard" above the "noise" of randomness by the time it reached the subject of my attention.] That's the scientific rationalization. But I do second-guess myself all the time. Yes, James probably should have made that jump-hook. But if I had been standing up at the time, would it have gone in?
I'm used to being in control of much of what goes on in my life. My brain constantly evaluates how I do in these matters. I try not to care about the things that I don't control, but with sports, I have decided to care. Caring leads to evaluation, which leads to second-guessing. I don't second-guess whether I should have been sitting in a different seat when Vanderjagt pushed that field goal attempt into immortality. But I do wonder whether Shaun Pruitt would have hit those free throws if I had only used my straw rather than drinking straight out of my water glass.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
It's More Fun Being Green
It's like professional wrestling, in a slightly more noble setting.
Medieval Times: Dinner and Tournament is a journey to a time and place that may not have existed. Brave knights, Andalusian horses, Dragon's Tail soup, an arena full of weapons, and a dungeon full of implements of torture. Courage. Treachery. Skill. Intrigue. Romance. Oracles. Spotlights. Reverb.
You get the idea.
Above all else, it's a performance, from start to finish. All employees -- whether king, herald, bartender, or wench -- remain in character throughout. They all need to play their roles to create this world for the audience. The audience, in turn, has a part to play...but not necessarily a role. Cheering when you're supposed to doesn't, in itself, convert you from an observer to a participant in this world. Many adults that return to Medieval Times, though, have found one true way to play a role -- supporting the Green Knight.
First, a little background. There are six knights, each identified by his colors -- Red, Black-and-White, Yellow, Blue, Red-and Yellow, or Green -- and each representing a fictional kingdom. Each knight and kingdom has its own backstory, for anyone paying close enough attention. Unique among these is the wicked Green Knight, who hails from the kingdom of Leon, a land known for its liars, cheats, and charlatans. The inhabitants of Leon are unsavory and belligerent characters, despised by the other citizens of the realm, and openly mocked by the king's servants and guards.
A great number of audience members are children, awestruck by the spectacle and indifferent to their knight and kingdom affiliation. Many adults are indifferent as well. But a few adult guests, returning visitors no doubt, request to sit in a particular knight's section. And no one requests the Yellow Knight.
Supporters of the Green Knight are free to play a role that casts them directly into the world created at Medieval Times, time and time again. Adults cheer the Green Knight with passion and devotion that border on the surreal. Whether this is due to an us-against-the-world mentality, or perhaps a desire to play the bad guy, I don't know. Through this role, though, we as adults transport our emotions into this fantasy world, even as our eyes and body remain rooted in reality.
The Green Knight benefits from this expression of emotion as well. All knights salute their supporters, but the eyes of the Green Knight betray the rush he feels when showered with affection. The other knights' supporters came to cheer the spectacle; the Green Knight's supporters came to cheer him. He's Hulk Hogan on horseback.
It's more fun being green. No matter who you are.
Medieval Times: Dinner and Tournament is a journey to a time and place that may not have existed. Brave knights, Andalusian horses, Dragon's Tail soup, an arena full of weapons, and a dungeon full of implements of torture. Courage. Treachery. Skill. Intrigue. Romance. Oracles. Spotlights. Reverb.
You get the idea.
Above all else, it's a performance, from start to finish. All employees -- whether king, herald, bartender, or wench -- remain in character throughout. They all need to play their roles to create this world for the audience. The audience, in turn, has a part to play...but not necessarily a role. Cheering when you're supposed to doesn't, in itself, convert you from an observer to a participant in this world. Many adults that return to Medieval Times, though, have found one true way to play a role -- supporting the Green Knight.
First, a little background. There are six knights, each identified by his colors -- Red, Black-and-White, Yellow, Blue, Red-and Yellow, or Green -- and each representing a fictional kingdom. Each knight and kingdom has its own backstory, for anyone paying close enough attention. Unique among these is the wicked Green Knight, who hails from the kingdom of Leon, a land known for its liars, cheats, and charlatans. The inhabitants of Leon are unsavory and belligerent characters, despised by the other citizens of the realm, and openly mocked by the king's servants and guards.
A great number of audience members are children, awestruck by the spectacle and indifferent to their knight and kingdom affiliation. Many adults are indifferent as well. But a few adult guests, returning visitors no doubt, request to sit in a particular knight's section. And no one requests the Yellow Knight.
Supporters of the Green Knight are free to play a role that casts them directly into the world created at Medieval Times, time and time again. Adults cheer the Green Knight with passion and devotion that border on the surreal. Whether this is due to an us-against-the-world mentality, or perhaps a desire to play the bad guy, I don't know. Through this role, though, we as adults transport our emotions into this fantasy world, even as our eyes and body remain rooted in reality.
The Green Knight benefits from this expression of emotion as well. All knights salute their supporters, but the eyes of the Green Knight betray the rush he feels when showered with affection. The other knights' supporters came to cheer the spectacle; the Green Knight's supporters came to cheer him. He's Hulk Hogan on horseback.
It's more fun being green. No matter who you are.
Monday, January 02, 2006
A half-assed running diary of the Fiesta Bowl
My pledge to you: This post will contain no analysis of the game itself.
During a pre-game interview, Ohio State head coach Jim Tressel hands sideline reporter Jack Arute a collar stay. My immediate reaction: "One collar stay?" Later in the broadcast, Arute is shown head-on, sporting one sharp-looking point and one awful-looking point on his collar. Did he really need two collar stays and used just the one that Tressel gave him? Did he just need one, but the one Tressel gave him didn't fit his shirt? And is ABC so business-casual that not one off-camera employee is wearing a shirt with collar stays? Is there no VIP wearing a suit today? Couldn't an intern run out to the nearest shopping mall? Shouldn't the hotel concierge have been able to track down a collar stay this morning? And what did Arute do to his shirt in the first place to screw up the collar?
Quite the flashy graphic on the roles played by Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn. My favorite part? They misspelled the last name of head coach Charlie Weis (added an extra "s"). There are 8,643 unemployed college grads in Cook County, Ill., alone that would love to earn $12 per hour as a spell- and fact-checker for ABC Sports. Doesn't a major telelvision network understand the benefits of interns?
Late in the first half, Arute mentions that Ohio State's top three linebackers have been growing their hair long in tribute to Pat Tillman. All well and good...except that Bobby Carpenter, A.J. Hawk, and Anthony Schlegel originally made an agreement not to cut their hair until they won a national championship...as reported by ABC on their September 10, 2005, broadcast of the Texas-Ohio State game. Selective reporting doesn't get any better than this.
Well, it took Brent Musburger until the third quarter to mention that A.J. Hawk is dating Brady Quinn's sister, Laura. And it took another ten minutes for the announcers to stop talking about it. We've seen a pre-recorded clip with Hawk; a replay of Laura's anguished reaction in the crowd when Hawk sacked Quinn a few moments ago; a pre-recorded clip with Ohio State quarterback Troy Smith; and a sideline interview with Laura, in which she admitted her protective instinct as an older sister, as well as the 21-7 deficit faced by Notre Dame, has her pulling for the Irish.
Ever play the "Which celebrity does he/she look most like" game? Well, it's not really a game, but I find it easier to use a well-known person as a starting point and then modify as appropriate. For example, one of my friends looks like Dina Meyer except about 5'4" with darker, straighter hair. I used to think that another of my friends looks like she could be Brady Quinn's sister. Now that I've seen Brady Quinn's real sister, though, I can no longer use that comparison. I broke even this weekend, though, because after seeing a friend's blond highlights, I decided he looked like he could be the bad guy in a Die Hard movie. My brother was the only one to get that.
Abrupt ending in three, two, one...
During a pre-game interview, Ohio State head coach Jim Tressel hands sideline reporter Jack Arute a collar stay. My immediate reaction: "One collar stay?" Later in the broadcast, Arute is shown head-on, sporting one sharp-looking point and one awful-looking point on his collar. Did he really need two collar stays and used just the one that Tressel gave him? Did he just need one, but the one Tressel gave him didn't fit his shirt? And is ABC so business-casual that not one off-camera employee is wearing a shirt with collar stays? Is there no VIP wearing a suit today? Couldn't an intern run out to the nearest shopping mall? Shouldn't the hotel concierge have been able to track down a collar stay this morning? And what did Arute do to his shirt in the first place to screw up the collar?
Quite the flashy graphic on the roles played by Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn. My favorite part? They misspelled the last name of head coach Charlie Weis (added an extra "s"). There are 8,643 unemployed college grads in Cook County, Ill., alone that would love to earn $12 per hour as a spell- and fact-checker for ABC Sports. Doesn't a major telelvision network understand the benefits of interns?
Late in the first half, Arute mentions that Ohio State's top three linebackers have been growing their hair long in tribute to Pat Tillman. All well and good...except that Bobby Carpenter, A.J. Hawk, and Anthony Schlegel originally made an agreement not to cut their hair until they won a national championship...as reported by ABC on their September 10, 2005, broadcast of the Texas-Ohio State game. Selective reporting doesn't get any better than this.
Well, it took Brent Musburger until the third quarter to mention that A.J. Hawk is dating Brady Quinn's sister, Laura. And it took another ten minutes for the announcers to stop talking about it. We've seen a pre-recorded clip with Hawk; a replay of Laura's anguished reaction in the crowd when Hawk sacked Quinn a few moments ago; a pre-recorded clip with Ohio State quarterback Troy Smith; and a sideline interview with Laura, in which she admitted her protective instinct as an older sister, as well as the 21-7 deficit faced by Notre Dame, has her pulling for the Irish.
Ever play the "Which celebrity does he/she look most like" game? Well, it's not really a game, but I find it easier to use a well-known person as a starting point and then modify as appropriate. For example, one of my friends looks like Dina Meyer except about 5'4" with darker, straighter hair. I used to think that another of my friends looks like she could be Brady Quinn's sister. Now that I've seen Brady Quinn's real sister, though, I can no longer use that comparison. I broke even this weekend, though, because after seeing a friend's blond highlights, I decided he looked like he could be the bad guy in a Die Hard movie. My brother was the only one to get that.
Abrupt ending in three, two, one...
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