Finally, an honest agent

Fun with Google News

84 newspapers' online editions are currently running a story containing the phrase 'busy festive period'.

34 contain the phrase 'fixture pile-up', with 36 favouring to refer to a 'fixture backlog'.

55 contain the phrase 'fixture congestion'.

The bulk of Premiership and Championship teams are playing three games in nine days (including F.A. cup commitments). Really, it's no different than many weeks during the season, but the clichés of football reporting dictate otherwise.

The Stuff that Dreams are Made of: Part III

This is getting disturbing.

I recently had a dream about what the M's might do with $9.5 million flop Miguel Batista.

Batista is a novellist and one of the more articulate players about. By rights I should like him.

Batista is also a huge fan of Kenny G and a terrible pitcher. So in fact I can't stand him.

My suggestion: throw him off a bridge somewhere. Hopefully that'll stop these bloody nightmares.

Process and Outcomes

Former Los Angeles Dodgers General Manager Paul DePodesta has a very interesting post on his blog where he talks about the importance of process in the running of his current team, the San Diego Padres. This he does with specific reference to the draft, noting that it takes so long to actually assess the outcome of the baseball draft that one must follow a sound process, and also, that luck can and does play a huge part in these decisions. One can follow a sound process and be the victim of bad luck, and vice versa. He uses the following model:

What makes this model so appealing is that it can, quite literally, be applied across the board. DePodesta acknowledges that one cannot win all the time, but that by following the correct process, one can at least increase their chances of being successful. After all, in baseball, a successful season is pegged at a 60% winning percentage. The question that occurred to me was this: how such a model be applied to football?

First of all, it needs to be noted that there can be more than one 'correct' process. This depends upon the resources available to clubs, and their relative aspirations (these factors are generally linked). In baseball, it is much easier to identify a tangible 'organizational philosophy' than in football, as has been mention on this blog before. I would argue that this is because baseball is at its essence much more quantifiable than football, or many sports. Football can be quantified, however, in certain ways. After all, that is what league tables seek to do.

The Premier League has had its top four spots yield a Champions League berth for six years now. Lets define finishing in the top four in the period between 2002/3 - 2007/8 as success (yes, all success is relative). In that period, the top four teams have had an average win percentage of 61.1% (never going higher than 65.1% or lower than 57.8%). So, the most successful teams are still only winning 60% of the time, in general (and yes, there are differences between those teams finishing first and fourth). It seems to leave a lot of room for failure (in the form of a tie or a loss), and for bad luck.

You can not win all the time, but you can follow the correct process to facilitate winning more consistently. It seems that the centrality of luck and randomness are still underestimated in football, however. A cluster of three or four defeats in a row and teams ditch their manager. This can be attributed to the much smaller sample size in Premiership football (a 38 game season versus a 162 game regular season in baseball). The stakes become higher in each game.

Ideally, teams would like to reside in the top left corner of the model, receiving deserved success. Within the top four, there are two examples of vastly differing processes, both of which have received 'deserved success' (relatively speaking). Chelsea put a structure of experienced and savvy football executives in place to make sure that there was a powerful link between Roman Abramovich's money and the direction of the first team, and that money was not merely being splurged for the sake of it (yes, the latter happened, but they still won two Premiership titles, so I, for one, will not argue). Essentially, the team was constructed with expensive signings, however. This is the process that Man City should be aiming for, in my opinion.

A second example of a good process would be Arsenal, who have built some successful teams (no Premierships, alas) on the basis of player development. Acquiring the best young talent from across Europe had two advantages, as far as I can see: it was cheaper, and it allowed the players to develop a certain style of play with Arsenal. The problem with this process is that, as DePodesta noted with respect to the draft, Arsenal will only discover the outcome a number of years down the road, and this is not always positive. However, Arsene Wenger has done a good job of managing it thus far.

So, in a basic sense, one can talk of processes in terms of the superficial policy of a club in player acquisition. Processes on the pitch are a much murkier question. Randomness and luck again rear their heads. Contradictions emerge. For example, in terms of football tactics, the area in which most number crunching was done led to the development of 'pressing' and the long-ball game (a notable exception would be Lobanovskyi's Dynamo Kiev, but they were exceptional). The idea was that you maximize the resources you have available to you by using somewhat counter-intuitive logic. Unsurprisingly, one of the modern advocates of this approach, Aidy Boothroyd, claimed to be a disciple of Billy Beane.

Another proponent, Jack Charlton, used to tell two stories about his management style. Firstly, he often quoted Alf Ramsey, who always picked the best team, not necessarily the best eleven individuals. Secondly, he pointed out that the opposition could not score when the ball is in their half (ie, advocating the long ball out of defence). There is an inherent contradiction in this approach, as the long ball is premised upon what are oftentimes random outcomes. This can work in positive and negative ways, but it is no guaranteed way of retaining possession. And the opposition also cannot score when they do not have the ball. Perhaps it's a sound process to stop the opposition, but it does not facilitate winning.

On the other hand, there are many apocryphal stories about some of the most successful managers simply telling their players to 'go out and enjoy/express themselves.' This probably needs to be taken with a huge grain of salt, although in the situation where one has eleven immensely talented individuals on the pitch, there is every chance they can play more instinctively than the eleven journeymen, for example. The dalliance with long ball in the 1980s and 1990s has mostly come to an end, and the arrival of more technically gifted players into the Premiership has ensured that keep-ball tactics are the norm (although not without the odd exception, usually a promoted team).

Processes are a little messy then when we try to apply them to how teams line up on the pitch. Tactics are like the latest fashions: they come and go. 4-4-2, 3-5-2, 4-5-1, 4-2-3-1, and variations thereon have all dominated for periods in the recent past. The only exception to this is with away games or in knockout play, where teams may alter their lineup in the hopes of getting a desired result. Given that, in many ways, teams will follow very similar processes when their teams take to the pitch (similar formations, similar passing games, similar philosophy - note the newfangled fetish for the 'Makelele role'), perhaps it is best to think of processes and the model best in terms of how teams acquire and evaluate their talent. Luck will always conspire against you at some point, but smart squad construction will generally get you a long way. Not exactly a revelation, but something that an increasing number of managers have failed to master.

Pessimism

101 losses will engender pessimism. This is a poll, taken from the ESPN website, which asked whether people felt their team would be competitive in MLB in 2009. Red denotes a negative response. Of course, the irony is that the Seattle Mariners could very will be competitive a lot sooner than people think, thanks to the savvy makeover currently being undertaken by new GM Jack Zduriencik. But that's another story....

Premier Soccer Saturday is actually the same programme as The Premiership and Jimmy Magee still can't commentate for shit

I have been out of the country for the past few months. During that time, I have missed out on one (well, many) of life's simpler pleasures, namely, watching The Premiership on a Saturday evening on RTE (The Premiership is preferable to MOTD because it's on earlier - for me, this is an important part of the lazy-Saturday routine). An hour and a half of football highlights, hot off the press: what's not to like?

I called my local Chinese takeaway just before 7pm, and got myself settled in for an enjoyable evening of sloth. My food arrived at around 7.15, but when 7.30 rolled around, the time when the Premiership normally starts, nothing. I shouldn't have been so quick to assume, but after many years, it is easy to grow accustomed to certain routines in life. The Premiership at 7.30 was one of them. Consulting the TV guide, I discovered that a show calling itself Premier Soccer Saturday was instead scheduled for 9 o' clock. That would have to suffice.

It seems that I missed some sort of rebranding of RTE's football coverage during my Parisian exile. Let me offer some belated commentary on it now. Premier Soccer Saturday is the worst name for a football show I have ever heard of. It sounds like a cheap imitation of the real product, much like when supermarkets pitch their own brand cereal as 'corned flakes' or 'wheat biscuits'. Better still, it is like regional Irish fast food outlets who hanker after even the most tenuous connection to a legitimate chain such as McDonalds or Burger King and thus, in certain parts of the country, one can frequent BurgerMac's if sufficiently tanked. But I digress. Premier Soccer Saturday seems like contraband.

Once it began, at the New And Improved time of 9pm, I discovered that in fact, nothing had changed. Same old Darragh Moloney presenting. Same old Ray Houghton and Trevor Steven offering 'analysis' before heading back to the pub to hit on teenage girls (probably). And the same old Jimmy Magee 'commentating'. Fuck.

In a utopia, some RTE executive would've taken Jimmy aside, thanked him for his 'years of service' (that's the most diplomatic way I can put it), and given him some spiel about how Premier Soccer Saturday was a fast paced and dynamic new show which, at age ninety-seven, Mr Magee couldn't possibly be expected to relate to. Give him a golden handshake (and a cockpunch) and send him on his way. The powers that be at RTE didn't do that, of course.

So, I'm bloated with Chinese food (middling, as usual - I need to find another takeaway in close proximity), and confronted with the Sunderland-West Brom game, Jimmy on commentary. I haven't heard the man's senile ramblings in a few months, and quite the culture shock it was. Darragh Moloney introduced the game, informing us that Magee was behind the mic. They then cut to the game.

There forllowed a silence for twenty seconds. Had the old fella kicked the bucket right there and then? Finally, his voice croaked up, informing us that the player in possession was Cisse. Of course the problem was that Cisse was pretty much the only player in possession during that opening passage of play having taken the ball on a long run. Jimmy normally doesn't take this long to label players. Surely he could've piped up that it was Paul McGrath while he rummaged through his notes. Naming one coloured player is usually good enough for him when another is on the ball.

However, what really annoyed me was Magee's analysis of Andy Reid's goal for Sunderland, which I will have to paraphrase from memory here as I was in such a murderous rage when I heard it that I temporarily blacked out and cannot remember the rest of the night (I woke up in a ditch somewhere outside of Wicklow Town). Magee commented that 'Reid is not known for being a great header of the ball [note: his goal was headed] but he can pass, he can shoot, he plays the guitar, plays the banjo, has a great singing voice, and can head the ball. He can do everything, except get in the Ireland team.'

Seriously. There is so much wrong with that sentence that I don't know where to start. In most advanced cultures, this man would have been put out to pasture long ago. Can't we just sack him and blame it on the credit crunch?

Private Lives

For all the talk in the press of spitroasting, drug abuse, dog fighting rings, guns, and nightclub misdemeanours, sometimes, just sometimes, sportspeople reveal themselves to be worryingly boring. I was reminded of this by the recent interview with surly Seattle Mariners disappointment Erik Bedard which appeared in the Tacoma News Tribune.

“There wasn’t much reason to [smile in 2008], was there?” Bedard said this week.

He had a point. Bedard also had the wrong personality for an ace. His idea of a good time?

“Hanging out with my friends at home, changing the oil on my car …"

Bedard's revelation was reminiscent of Alan Shearer's confession that he creosoted his fence to 'celebrate' winning the Premiership in 1995. Earlier this year, David Bentley admitted that he is addicted to DIY:

At the minute I'm obsessed with DIY. I've been taking up tiles and knocking down walls, mending the potholes in my driveway - although I've got a strict DIY 24-hour ban before a match because it knackers you out.

In a world where even administrators are getting up to no good (yes Max Mosley, I'm talking about you), there is something oddly refreshing about quirks such as that of Shearer, Bedard and Bentley. After all, there is only so much one can say about a five-in-a-bed-drug-fuelled-romp - or whatever Premiership footballers do in Ayia Napa - before it gets clichéd.

How would the career of Diego Maradona have turned out if he liked nothing better than grouting tiles in his spare time? Or if Doc Gooden enjoyed putting flat-pack furniture together? Or if Marco Pantani was into gardening? How about if Rio, Fat Frank and Kieron Dyer had made a video in which they nailed some shelving into the wall? If only.

The Stuff that Dreams are Made of: Part II

It has been quite a month and a half for fans of the Seattle Mariners. Jack Zduriencik has taken over as general manager, and immediately gone about righting all the wrongs of the last administration. Deadwood is being cleared out of the front office. A department of statistical research is being set up (woo hoo!). 'Grit' is no longer the deciding factor in whether this team decides to offer you a long term contract (thank Christ). On a very basic level, the new administration is talking a lot of sense these days, and Zduriencik seems not only to have a detailed plan of what he wants to do with the team, but to be bloodyminded in implementing it.

Baseball's winter meetings begin today in Las Vegas. This is the week where, traditionally, the Big Deals Get Done. Free agent contracts are signed, trades are hammered out, and stories break. Superagent Scott Boras takes centre stage and hype is through the roof. In short, it is probably more eventful than the average week of the baseball season (well, perhaps in May). For the discerning Mariners fan, it figures to be a very eventful week. With the exception of Ichiro, Zduriencik has essentially made everyone on the roster available for trade. Well, anyone with half a brain (nevermind a terrifying buzzcut) would do the same if they inherited a 101 loss team with a $117 million payroll. Perhaps not Bill Bavasi, the author of this disaster, but that's another story.

Mariners blogs have been rather preoccupied with how Zduriencik will tackle the M's problems this week, and in a larger sense, whether this will mean the team enters a phase of rebuilding (ie, trade big names for young players and endure a few seasons of losing before reaping the rewards) or whether a few tweaks will do the trick. What seems to be beyond debate is that one of the most pressing areas requiring attention is the team's infield defense, specifically at second base and shortstop.

Shortstop is currently manned by onetime Cuban defector Yuniesky Betancourt. When he came to the United States, he was known as a defensive wiz. He backed this up in his first couple of years with the M's but recently has gotten a little pudgy and rather complacent. By most defensive metrics, he is one of the worst defensive shortstops in the game, and routinely costs the team with his lack of range, in addition to his infuriating lack of drive. The latter point begs the question of how he ever got out of Cuba in the first place. Presumably, there were no pies to distract him.

Oddly enough, while to fans of Seattle baseball Betancourt was possibly the most infuriating player on a bad team last year, there still is a conception around baseball that he is actually any good. This is symptomatic of two things. First of all, so many baseball people are ignorant of more advanced statistical analysis and think that because they saw Betancourt or Derek Jeter or someone else make a flashy play on ESPN one time, he must be good. Secondly, nobody pays much attention to the Mariners and thus they don't read too much into these things (There is a third point to mention which is that Betancourt has one of the better nicknames going - the Yunibomber). However, the upshot is that there is the potential that Zduriencik might, just might, be able to trade one of his worst performing players and actually get something of value in return. Imagine!

It seems that the more fantastical ideas really take hold of me when I am sleeping. So to follow up my meeting with Steven Strasburg a few months back where I tried to talk him into opting for the (then) hopeless Mariners over other competitors, the other night I had a more vexing dream where I was trying desperately to trade Betancourt to anyone who would take him. It was not easy. It took time. And it got nowhere. I woke up, exasperated. Last I recall, I was in talks with the Detroit Tigers about a possible deal. The trouble is that one needs a poker face of steel to pull something like that off. Even in dreamland.

I think we're stuck with him.

Time for a juvenile snigger

They're giving awards for the oddest things these days. Perhaps this is where Ronaldo's much vaunted end product shines through. Question: did he do both at the same time?