I've never read "The Numbers Game." However, I'm currently in the middle of a book called "The Book on 'The Book.'" Interesting stuff, but the numbers start to overwhelm after awhile. "Moneyball" was the most fascinating read of my life. "The Book" is good, but not in the same league, entertainment-wise.

Yeah, one of the things I really liked about this was the people. I'm not so into stats, though it was all interesting, but the characters were really what made the book for me.

For the record, this book is positively fascinating to me. I heart stats (especially sassy stats).

I think baseball took to statistics because it can easily be done. It's easy for anyone in the stands to keep score--both offense and defense. Just keep your eye on the ball. Because the events happen in relatively controlled circumstances (one runner per base, they can only run in the baseline), even if you don't see how a runner got somewhere, you can tell what happened by where they end up. (How did Jason Tyner get to third base on Ford's single? Obviously he ran it out. LNP was at second and is no longer on the field--he probably scored (a quick check of the scoreboard will tell you).) Not to mention that simply looking at a box score is really all you need to get a vague idea of the game--who played well, who got the breaks they needed, and who played poorly. Baseball can easily be turned into numbers, for the scientists (and turned into poetry by the artists).

I think the numbers were always there. Every sport has some statistics in the paper--whether assists, yards, etc. If Chadwick hadn't been around, someone else would've started looking at the game and turning it into numbers--there were plenty of men after him who added onto what he started, and there were plenty of men independent of each other coming up with similar formulas.

In terms of Moneyball, I think the problems that keep popping up are the things that are a bit more objective. There will always been the debate of power-hitters versus on-base percentage--who's more valuable? There are some things that are still a little bit intangible--the guy who takes a lot of pitches, or the guy who does something good with whatever pitch he gets? Fielding is still something that's not quite defined completely in stats (the current range factor is called a bit suspect by some). Not to mention the fact that errors will always be up to the whims of the scorekeeper. The biggest problem, of course, is that some men completely refuse to look at statistics, and some men rely too heavily on them.

I don't have the book on-hand right now, but if I recall, Chadwick got kinda cranky about his stats, so he either would've been grateful that someone (Billy Beane in Moneyball) actually paid attention to stats, or he would've been cranky because Beane wasn't using HIS stats but some new-fangled ones that were "useless".

I think that the love of statistics comes from people's desire (need, perhaps?) to quantify things around them. Trust me, I'm an engineer... As Beth noted, the problem is that stats never tell the whole story - some guys are a cancer in the clubhouse, some guys just have a knack for coming through in the clutch. You don't need to look any further than this year's AL MVP arguments to see some of that. Some guys make the players around them better by being teachers or leaders. But for a player or fan to make the case that one guy is better than another (especially at contract time), it's easiest to look at the numbers. That said, some of the guys in Numbers really did scare me with their obsession. Frankly, I'd rather be safe from Russian bombers than know whether Babe Ruth was better than Ty Cobb...

To make a meaningful comparison of baseball's obsession with statistics (which I think can safely be said to be larger than that of football, hockey, basketball, or soccer), one has to look at the fundamental differences between the sports. Hockey and soccer have very few dead states (times when the action stops and an accountant of the game's state can be easily made). Basketball has somewhat more, but still fewer than baseball.

The differences between baseball and football are more subtle. Each has "plays", between which the state of the game can be described. Baseball, however, has two things that football does not. First, a larger number of things can happen: Ball, swinging strike, called strike, wild pitch, passed ball, intentional ball, hit batter, bunt-for-hit, bunt-for-sacrifice, single, double, triple, home run, and the variations thereof. In football, only a handful of things can happen, and the outcome is not random in any way (e.g. there is a 0% chance of a completed pass on a running play).

(Mathematical) Statistics work best with studies of random events, and (with the exception of bunting and stolen bases), baseball events are essentially random. This makes the "problem" of predicting game results solvable - the tools of statistical analysis can be brought to bear on it. Meanwhile, the number of events makes the problem very complex - meaning that while it is solvable in theory, it has not yet been solved. From this comes the large number of statistics we see today.

I think the individual players in the drama of statistical evolution determined which statistics entered baseball lexicon (and baseball canon) and when, but many of them still would have been invented anyway.

An interesting read, but unlike Moneyball I didn't find it a book that I just couldn't put down.

Although I started 'scoring' baseball games almost before I could read (my father was a HS baseball coach) and an avid collector and analyst of baseball cards, I never have been one to focus that much on statistical analysis.

I find the explosion of statistical analysis amusing, interesting and, to a certain degree, helpful in analyzing relative value of players, but I guess I'm "old school" enough to believe that evaluating talent is as much an art as it is a science.

That said, baseball lends itself more to this sort of statistical analysis than any other sport (ok maybe golf, but who cares?). You can look at any scorecard and perfectly recreate every event. It's not just numbers. Not to be mean-spirited, but it also allows those who have limited talent at "playing the game" to participate in what, they at least, consider to be a significant manner. There were certainly ample examples in the book of stat-heads who admittedly had no talent for playing the game they love.

With or without Chadwick, statheads would have come forward. The one thing that is consistent is that there is always someone who seeks (and thinks they've found) a more meaningful way to measure SOMETHING. I have NO doubt that what Chadwick would have enjoyed most about Moneyball is the opportunity to argue its relative merits one way or another.

Nice observations and good questions. And fine book, too, by the way. I agree that The Numbers Game is more interesting because it is focused on baseball fanatics obsessed by statistics, rather than on the statistics themselves.

In taking on the broad subject of baseball’s 150-year “fascination with statistics,” Alan Schwarz covers several themes, each worthy of its own book – (1) the creation of traditional baseball statistics; (2) maintaining official statistics for the wider, statistic-craving public (including digging up statistics from MLB’s early, more informal era); (3) generating and using new statistics to more accurately measure performance and strategy.

Batgirl, you describe the book as something of a prologue to Moneyball. I wondered while reading if the author wrote the book in part to shrink Moneyball’s heroes, Billy Beane and Bill James, into proper historical perspective.

Would the original stat geek, Henry Chadwick, approve of Moneyball? If Schwarz’s characterization is correct, I think Chadwick, would be okay with the proliferation of statistics – it seems like he was always trying to improve measurement. 21st century baseball, however, might not please a man whose “model game was a taut, 1-0 scientific chess match.” DHs, juiced-up sluggers, short fences, lively balls, even giant webbed gloves, I think, are evolutions he would not have endorsed. But tough buns.

In response to your question on what about baseball that has encouraged a mania for statistics, I think, first, fans of every sport share a desire to compare their athletes to others, it’s not something unique to baseball. Baseball, though, I would agree, has “gone the extra mile” or two - or 100 - in quantification. I recently read a quote from a football receiver who cut off a reporter who was confronting him with statistics by saying, “I don’t do baseball statistics.”

Is it something about baseball that brings out the numbers nuts? Schwarz thinks so, and I agree. On page 64 he writes about “baseball’s double-entry personality”:

The sport’s symmetry leaves every hitting event part of a pitcher’s record and every pitching event part of a hitter’s record…Other sports can’t match this: a 10-yard run by a halfback or a point guard’s breakaway layup cannot be assigned against any particular defensive player, leaving football and basketball immune from such crisp-and-clean scorekeeping.

The Numbers Game helped me understand why number geeks are all around in baseball, from management to the Internet. Even though I don’t have the time or will power to immerse myself in statistics, I basically agree that the latest measurements are very enlightening. Although I believe I love baseball as much or more than any young sabermatrician, I have to admit that I can’t match their statistical knowledge. (“When you can’t express it in numbers, your knowledge is of a meager and unsatisfactory kind.” Lord Kelvin, p. 3.)

What I want to know is why, even with the so-called experts’ understanding of statistical randomness, probability, and the small differences between a .270 hitter and a .300 hitter (Chapter 10), do managers and pundits insist on turning some major league players into demigods and others into sinister cartoon characters?

I subscribed to Baseball Prospectus in the hopes to explore that more, using the over-maligned Luis Rivas as an example, before this discussion ends.

This sounds like an interesting book! I wish I had time to read it and join the discussion in the coming week! Well, thanks for the recommendation, at least...

Hi there, bat-girl.com fans. A friend told me you were discussing my book ("The Numbers Game") on your site, and sure enough, you are. I truly appreciate the kind words, and am glad you seem to have enjoyed the book so much. Have a great offseason.
--Alan Schwarz.

Still reading the book. I am impressed how interesting the book is considering the topic. All of the historical tidbits and descriptions of the people involved-not to mention the squabbles make it a good read. Never dreamed there was so much drama! Linda

This book is fascinating, I agree with the above poster that it's the characters that made it for me (similar to "Moneyball," actually). I actually like it better than "Moneyball" so far. This book has more of an academic tone to it, less of the jock.

Like several others, I enjoyed the stories of the people in this book. It gave me an interesting perspective on baseball history. I'm not ready to comment on the big picture view of the interplay between the statistics and the game, although I think some statistics created some strategies. As Nationals fan, it's easy to convince me that the save statistic is a case in point.