Showing posts with label flubber. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flubber. Show all posts

Thursday, November 11, 2010

"Just put points on the board"


It's nearly blasphemy to criticize the Michigan offense this year. By all accounts, it's one of the most prolific in the country. But there's one area in which it fails miserably: getting up by more than one score. I don't know if it's a play calling/coaching issue, an opponent's will to live, or just bad timing, but repeatedly this year, I've found myself saying, "Now just put points on the board" only to see a punt or turnover.

I went back through Michigan's games this year and, excluding the two blowouts (UConn and Bowling Green) tabulated how many attempts Michigan had to take a two-score lead, how many times they succeeded, and the game time that Michigan held a lead of 8+ points. The results are terrifying:

Opponent Attempts Success Game time with 2-score lead
Notre Dame 10 1 4:09
Umass 1 1 25:24
Indiana 5 0 0
MSU 1 0 0
Iowa 1 0 0
Penn State 0 0 0
Illinois 4 0 0
Totals 22 2 29:33

The most egregious example in the chart is the Notre Dame game, where Michigan had countless chances to put some distance between them and the Irish but failed to do so time and again. Some of these instances were the function of turnovers: against Indiana, Denard fumbled at the one yard line, and the Illinois game saw Denard throw an INT on the first play of one such drive, as well as a fumbled kickoff. Just as bothersome, however, is that in every game aside from Penn State--even Michigan's other two losses--Michigan had a lead, forced a defensive stop, and then had the ball with an opportunity to put more points on the board and almost always failed to do so.

There's something a little more revealing though: You can probably blame the three losses pretty heavily on the defense. Through two games, Michigan was only afforded the chance to go up by 8+ points twice, which means the defense was completely unable to stop the opposing offense. But the 0/4 and 0/5 efforts against Illinois and Indiana, respectively, paint the picture of a team forcing defensive stops but an offense that seems to slow down when they have the chance to put their foot on another team's throat. So the games become either a direct back and forth or a game of catch-up for the offense.

I think part of the blame here has to fall on Rodriguez. When Michigan has a chance to go up by two scores, playcalling immediately becomes QB sneak, QB sneak, pass. Rodriguez looks like he's trying to play ball control and run out the clock without actually having the comfort zone to do so (not unlike 3rd and short situations where Rodriguez goes into the I-formation). Other times, like against Illinois, it's just bad timing (Denard's second INT and the kickoff return fumble accounted for two of the four missed opportunities). Regardless, Michigan's offense looks to stall when it should really kick into gear.

For what it's worth, against UConn and Bowling Green, the offense was given one chance to go up by two scores, did so, and never looked back. But against everyone else (seven games), Michigan has only been up by 8+ points for 29:33. Part of that is Michigan's defensive woes, but even that doesn't explain the woeful 2/22 success rate. For a team that scores as often and as much as Michigan does, this stat is simply mind boggling. Not only will getting up 8+ points give a little breathing room for the offense, it'll help the defense by forcing opponents to get out of their gameplan. Whether or not that will translate to more wins is yet to be seen, but if Michigan is going to have any chance going forward, they're going to have to capitalize on opportunities like these.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Why you shouldn't be encouraged by 383 yards


After reading through the myriad game recaps yesterday, something that The Wolverine Blog said stuck out in my mind:
Sometimes I think I’d be able to make a better assessment of this team if I didn’t watch the games... I’d even be encouraged by the defense, which faced a senior quarterback and a very good pair of receivers and allowed under 400 yards — that would qualify as progress this season...

Watching the game, however, it’s tough not to dwell on the bad penalties, shanked kicks, turnovers, and far-too-easy Hawkeye passing touchdowns and think this team is just spinning its wheels, especially when placed in direct contrast with an Iowa team that played mistake-free football and capitalized on Michigan’s mistakes time and again.
When you look at the box score, Michigan dominated several offensive categories (522 total yards vs. 383 total yards, 4.5 YPC vs. 3.8 YPC) and were close in most others (10.3 YPA for Iowa vs. 7.6 YPA for Michigan). And at face value, that's a pretty significant upgrade from the Indiana, Michigan State, and even UMass contests. But for those actually watching the game, the defensive performance looked just as soul crushing as it had earlier in the year. There's only one reason the numbers don't agree: field position.

Iowa starting
field position
Result
Iowa 387 yards, punt
Iowa 445 yards, punt
Iowa 1684 yards, TD
Mich 4949 yards, TD
Mich 4848 yards, TD
Iowa 11 yard, End of half
Iowa 297 yards, punt
Iowa 144 yards, punt
Iowa 3763 yards, TD
Iowa 4060 yards TD
Iowa 205 yards, punt
Iowa 4060 yards, FG
Mich 43End of game
Surely penalties and the four turnovers Michigan coughed up also played a big role in the difference between total yardage gained and points scored, but more importantly, Iowa just didn't have to go as far to score. The chart on the right is Iowa's starting field position and the result of the ensuing drive. If you exclude the two "drives" to end the first half and the game, Iowa's average starting field position was at their own 34 yard line. Michigan's average starting field position, meanwhile, was at their own 23 yard line.

While that 11 yards may not seem like a ton, extrapolated over the course of a game (and especially one in which each team saw double digit possessions), that amount of yardage really adds up. For example, Iowa had 11 real drives, meaning that the 11-yard difference in field position equaled 121 yards difference. And when you add that in to Iowa's 383 total yards on the game, that gives them 504 yards, a mere 18 short of Michigan's total.

This is obviously not an exact science. You can't just add those yards onto Iowa's total and come out with Why It All Happened, least of all because that extra yardage could've changed the complexion of the drive--Michigan might've forced a stop. But given that Stanzi completed 70.8% of his passes and what we know about the Michigan defense, it's safe to say that moving Iowa back 11 yards on each possession likely wouldn't have changed the outcome of any of those drives. It may seem encouraging that Michigan forced 5 punts on the 11 drives, but they also forced 4 punts on 10 Michigan State drives. The point being, there wasn't really anything about the Iowa game that should inspire confidence in this defense.

Fortunately, the difference in field position has no bearing on how well Michigan was able to move the ball offensively. It was clear that Michigan was marching up and down the field against Iowa and were it not for turnovers, the score likely would've been much different, and may have even swung in Michigan's favor. Then again, without those same turnovers, Iowa's advantage in field position shrinks, they probably hold onto the ball longer, rack up a lot more yardage, and lower the amount of possessions by each team, all of which is to say that Michigan was decidedly behind the 8-ball in this game. And for as much as we'd all like to use this game as a stepping stone for the defense, it's really difficult to look at the numbers and do so. This defense is sunk.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Results of man coverage against Indiana


Anyone who's read this blog in the last three weeks knows that I've been manically calling for more man coverage on defense. Arguments to the contrary usually range from "Do you really want to see James Rogers in man coverage?" to "Do you really want to see JT Floyd in man coverage?". In short, yes. I rewatched the Indiana game and counted every time that Michigan showed a man coverage front against a passing play. (I removed all run plays because it's difficult to tell if Michigan is or isn't in man coverage as the receivers usually run up to block the corners and the linebackers, if they're doing their job, don't drop into coverage.)

Of the 96 offensive plays that Indiana ran, Michigan showed a man coverage front 12 (12!) times. In chronological order are the results of the plays:
  • throw away
  • incompletion
  • incompletion but a holding penalty on Rogers
  • incompletion
  • completion (screen 6 yards)
  • completion (screen 8 yards; Roh covering slot receiver. Offensive personnel: 3 WR, TE, RB)
  • completion TD (end of 1st quarter; tight coverage but a good thrown and catch)
  • completion (45 yard completion to Doss; good throw over the top against Rogers. Appeared to be blown coverage by Cam Gordon in cover-2)
  • completion (9 yard; Terrence Talbott on coverage)
  • throw away (3rd and 11)
  • sack (Banks sack on 1st and 10)
  • incompletion (quick throw because of blitz; out of rhythm)
So in 12 attempts, Indiana had six incompletions, one sack, and five completions for approximately 69 yards. Is this statistically significant or proof that Michigan should use more man coverage? Probably not and no. But rewatching the game revealed a couple of things:
  • When Michigan was in man coverage, the three-man defensive front was far more effective. One of the reasons the three-man front has been so ineffective this year is because opposing receivers have been settling down on short hitch routes making it difficult for the defensive line to get any pressure. Whether or not the receivers eventually got open on their routes, is beside the point; they were covered closely near the line of scrimmage forcing Chappell to go through his reads. As such, the defensive line was usually able to get to Chappell, forcing him to move out of the pocket or change his angles.
  • Michigan got beaten over the top twice: one incompletion to an Indiana tight end that Jordan Kovacs was trailing and the 45-yard completion to Tandon Doss, who Rogers was covering--though I'm not totally sure that it was all his fault because I think Cam Gordon had blown his deep coverage in cover-2.
  • Michigan can't play man coverage against stacked receivers. We first saw this problem against UMass when they would stack receivers, usually forcing Kovacs to play man coverage and starting off the line of scrimmage. It ended poorly each time.
  • Rogers, Floyd, Avery, and Talbott can all cover for at least limited amounts of time (Avery might be the best cover corner on the team that's currently healthy, about which more this week). Never did they get blown off the line and completely lose coverage. As such, Michigan can blitz more often. I think part of the reason Michigan hasn't blitzed as much as we'd all like to see is because, as porous as the zones are with eight defenders, they'd be even more open with five or six. Teams have decided to run quick routes against a Michigan defense that has shown it will give up five or six yards at will. If they drop less than eight into coverage, we'll probably start seeing more YAC.
In the end, my thoughts stay the same: Michigan needs to show far more man coverage defensive fronts if only to confuse quarterbacks and help stop the short hitches and slants that have become a staple of opposing offenses. Last year, Michigan sat back in a zone against MSU, who threw bubble screens that netted about seven yards per play. MSU ran the same play against Notre Dame this year to the same effect. Michigan needs the ability to counter this play and to give MSU looks that they haven't seen from this defense yet. And given that no team in the Big Ten has as many quality receivers as Indiana, putting Floyd, Rogers, and Avery (please, more Avery) in man coverage with over-the-top safety help could be really effective when adequately sprinkled in among the various zone drops.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Fortune cookies


2010 has been undoubtedly the most difficult year of my adult life. In the span of just a few months, my best friend was diagnosed with cancer, my long-term girlfriend left me, Michigan sports were dissolving, I was increasingly unhappy with my job and friends, and I encountered various issues with my car, taxes, and other pitfalls that a poorly paid editor is unfit to deal with financially. At one point, I had a running count of “wins”; 2010 is holding a commanding lead over me. Since then, I quit my job, moved to Los Angeles, have attempted to get over said ex-girlfriend, and have scraped together enough money to temporarily deal with said tax and car problems.

I lost my first grandparent when I was in seventh grade. My parents woke me up before school, pulled me into the living room, and told me that my grandfather had passed away. He had been in the hospital because he fell off a ladder trying to clean the gutters of his house, and his health worsened after surgery. Of my four grandparents, I was probably closest with him, or at least enjoyed his company the most. He showed all of the grandchildren how to play solitaire and would carve intricate wood sculptures for all of us. His funeral was a solemn affair; it was the first funeral I had ever been to. Before the service, one of my parents, unbeknownst to us, went to the church organ player and requested that as the casket was leaving the church, she play “You Are My Sunshine”. The organist was confused and not entirely sure it was appropriate. My grandpa used to play “You Are My Sunshine” for the family on something that’s like an accordion but not quite an accordion.

Last year was supposed to be the year that everything came together for Rich Rodriguez after the disastrous 2008 campaign. There was Tate Forcier, Weapon of Choice. Next came Western Michigan and Notre Dame. By mid-October, a month later, what had looked so promising was a hollow shell. The team was in ruins and needed to start again next year.

The weekend that my ex-girlfriend and I broke up was difficult for me. We had been making a long distance relationship work (she in Los Angeles and I in Cleveland) for nearly 15 months and things had started to splinter. I flew to California knowing full well that we had to have a Talk and that it might very well end with us not being together anymore. We broke up shortly after my plane landed. On the last day that I was in California, she and I were getting dinner together at P.F. Chang's--yes, in Los Angeles, where there are certainly better Chinese restaurants, but I digress. After dinner, I cracked open my fortune cookie and it told me, “Remember this date. Three months from now something good will happen to you” (or something to that effect). I’m not superstitious, but this was obviously a good sign as I wasn’t the one that initiated the breakup. A month and a half later, we were having a discussion about her new boyfriend. We stopped talking shortly after that.

In two games, more than leading the Wolverines to impressive, imperative victories, Denard Robinson has inspired hope in the Michigan faithful. After two years of endless piling on, there seems to be light at the end of the tunnel. People said that last year about Tate Forcier, but this feels different. You can see it in the childishly playful way Brian Cook, leader of the Michigan faithful, Tweets or the two-part comic strip that Denard’s UConn performance pulled from the depths of his crazies. Or in Denard's brilliant smile that everyone who’s seen in him a press conference raves about. Denard is the promise of Pat White, 11-1 conference-winning seasons, contending for a national championship; everything that people have come to know Rich Rodriguez for seems to be possible with Denard. Whether or not that comes to fruition is beside the point. Right now, there’s hope.

Through a collection of mutual friends, I now watch football games with my ex-girlfriend. I spend most of the day trying not to look in her direction--which isn’t too terribly difficult as I’m glued to the TV, yelling at random linebackers to tackle people--due in large part to my not being totally comfortable with her there for various reasons. After Denard's performance in the Notre Dame game, we shared a two-handed, over-the-head high five.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

A note on transfers


When I was a junior in high school, on the first day of school, I got a note in homeroom that requested my presence in one of the counselor's offices. This wasn't my academic counselor, but he was the head coach of the hockey team. The previous year, I had played junior varsity hockey and was essentially on the varsity scout team: I would practice with the varsity squad and was held on retainer lest anything tragic happen to any of the varsity players. I sat down in his office and he made small talk before getting to the real issue, "So we've got a new season coming up now. I presume you'll be playing for us this year?" This was an abrupt invitation to play for the varsity hockey team but my mind had already been made up. "Actually, I think I'm just going to play on a club team out of Dearborn," I told him.

The rationale behind my decision was simple enough: aside from some small sense of vengeance I felt for various friends who the coach had strung along, I knew that I only had two more years of playing organized hockey. If I played varsity for an admittedly sub-par program, it very easily could have ended with an uninspiring recruiting process, followed by passing on a Michigan education in favor of playing four years of college hockey at a small school and still not making it to the pros (shock). When I told my parents the story that night at the dinner table, I told them basically the above, but added that I just didn't feel like working that hard (it's easier to play club hockey where you practice twice a week and never see a weight room) in my final two years. They responded that I shouldn't have said that; it reflected poorly on me. Regardless, this was my reasoning.

Why is any of this important? With the news that Vlad Emilien is leaving Michigan, I'm left contemplating the recent rash of transfers, and more alarmingly, what seem to be other obvious flight risks. I don't know why Emlilien left. Or why Turner or the various others have fled the program. Maybe it's a lack of playing time or just not the right fit. I don't want to project anything on these players. But it seems problematic that they keep leaving. Is it how Rodriguez coaches? Is it a different brand of player that he's recruiting?

Sadly, these aren't questions that I can answer, and they're probably different for each player. The most logical answer is probably that they aren't getting the kind of playing time they think they deserve. But for a program and coach that prides itself on competition and the ability to earn your place on the team, it seems hard to believe that these players are leaving solely because they're not playing. Is Barwis' strength program too difficult to endure when you're relegated behind a few walk ons on the depth chart? Does Rodriquez take out personal gripes against players by sticking them on the bench despite more logical choices (see: Tate sitting against UConn as Devin Gardner frustratingly burns a redshirt).

Whatever the issue, it's tough not to look at Michigan's roster right now and turn the panic level to EXTREME on a few other players not getting the kind of playing time you might expect, most notably: Tate (obviously) and Will Campbell. Panic about others seems misplaced right now, but it's hard not to look over your shoulder for the next sign of discontent.

On a more emotional level, it's difficult not get get upset with the players themselves. If it really is a lack of playing time, you have to ask yourself what makes true sophomores or redshirt freshmen feel entitled to early playing time. It may have been something Rodriquez promised them in the recruiting process; it wouldn't surprise me if Rodriguez, looking at the harrowing secondary depth chart, told Emilien and Turner they'd be on the field early, only to settle for lesser recruits/walk ons who were better prepared at the time. If that's the case, you can only hope that this is a self-remedying problem that will disappear when Michigan's depth is a less terrifying, which isn't going to happen with constant transfers.

Whatever the reasoning, this appears to be a very real problem and one that Rodriguez has brought with him. At this point, you can't place the blame on a few players who have flaked out after being recruited or blame Lloyd Carr recruits that got more than they signed up for. We now once again have to pray for health, which after the UConn game was problematic, and hope that somehow, Michigan's piecemeal defense manages to scrape through the year.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Division alignment announcement


So, much to the chagrin of, well, everyone, it appears as though the Big Ten has decided to split Michigan and Ohio State into opposite divisions in the upcoming alignment, expected to be announced today. Without further ado, your projected divisions are:

Wet OwlHates This
MichiganOhio State
NebraskaPenn State
IowaWisconsin
Michigan StatePurdue
MinnesotaIndiana
NorthwesternIllinois

Initial thoughts: Ugh, what a terrible decision. Aside from splitting up OSU and Michigan, which is obviously the cardinal sin, I don't see any way that this comes close to competitive balance. Excluding the top three (which still seem slightly more difficult in the Wet Owl division), Michigan State clearly trumps Purdue; Minnesota is better than Indiana; and Northwestern and Illinois, at least currently, are no where near equals. This appears to give Michigan a much harder road to traverse, but we'll get to that later. There are other problems I see here that I don't really feel like going into until this is all official, which well....

Is there any silver lining?
Yeah, maybe. Given ESPN's recent track record with breaking news of this nature (Reggie Bush, Big Ten Expansion, Brett Favre, etc.), this may very well just be words in the wind. It feels a little more permanent to me, but there's always a hope that this is one reporter's/blogger's "insider" spouting off about some cooler talk. Let's hope.

UPDATE
Andrew at The Sports Journalists sent me this picture about the announcement and jokingly asked that I find some hidden meaning in it:

I'm not going to read anything into it but, yeah.

Monday, July 26, 2010

Amateurism, Jason Whitlock, and Twitter arguments


Sometime last week, Ace of The Wolverine Blog and I got into a lengthy Twitter debate--as lengthy as Twitter debates can be anyway--on Fox Sports columnist Jason Whitlock's latest article on Reggie Bush, amateurism, and the broken NCAA system. Ace, while taking exception to some of the rhetoric Whitlock uses, agrees with his general sentiment, while I, as I'm wont to do re: Jason Whitlock, went into a mild tantrum because someone actually pays Jason Whitlock to write about sports*.

The crux of Whitlock's argument is such:

The NCAA rule book is not the United States Constitution.

If anything, the rule book supporting the bogus concept of “amateur athletics” is akin to the laws that supported Jim Crow, denied women suffrage and upheld slavery.

No joke. This is how he starts his column. This is how you draw traffic to a website, not create a reasonable argument about the trappings of the current NCAA system in regards to amateurism and agents. He never goes all the way to completing the idea that he hints at here--that college football is an enterprises that gets old white men rich on the backs of stereotyped young black males (because black males are the only ones playing college football)--but it's blatantly obvious, enough to submarine any rational thought on the topic he might have therein. Not to mention, that if Reggie Bush was white, you can be assured there would be a different lede to this story.

A note before I go further: I am not against the idea of paying college athletes and abolishing the idea of amateurism as might be implied by this column or the aforementioned Tweeting. My main objection is to Whitlock's argument and the various problems his thinking presents.

*Full disclosure, I loathe Jason Whitlock. He's the kind of writer who, when discussing the Tiger Woods scandal would refer to Tiger's indiscretions as "Pussy Galore" and other half-baked catch phrases that, if you said were catering to the lowest common denominator, would actually be insulting to mathematics and Joe Sixpack alike. He writes for a hit count, not for full-fledged ideas.

College athletics is not slavery
Contrary to what Whitlock may have you believe, college athletics is not slavery. Having to enumerate on this fact that to anyone other than Whitlock seems like a fruitless affair, but seeing as we're using him as a base, we'll debunk the idea.

You can see what Whitlock is trying to say here: college athletes don't get paid but their respective universities see serious dollars because of their performance. He goes on to say,

The athletes are being compensated in a currency (a shot at a compromised education in their spare time) many of them don’t respect and haven’t been properly prepared to use.

The fallacy and complications in this sentence alone are numerous. First of all, Whitlock acknowledges that the athletes are being compensated, handsomely so (upwards of hundreds of thousands of dollars). And like magic, he ignores this part of the deal by passing it off as a) "a compromised education" and b) something that "many of them don't respect". Both of these statements are wildly presumptuous and in many cases, probably wrong. For example, Myron Rolle was a Rhodes Scholar in his time as a productive safety at Florida State. Not every college player is Myron Rolle, but to claim that students are given a compromised education is flatly false; they are given every opportunity and it's their decision whether or not to fully and seriously pursue that angle of their college life. And to say that "many" college athletes don't respect their education is downright offensive.

What Whitlock fails to understand here, is that highly talented young athletes are not unlike other young adults that go to college: go to school, specialize in something, get a job. For a lucky few students, "getting a job" means playing on Sundays under the bright NFL lights. To value football above a traditional education is not something that should be passed off as irresponsible for the select group of students who have a realistic opportunity to do so. The idea of "majoring" in your sport of choice should not be a dismissed option. What sets these students up for a better life and a better future? English classes or weight training and being in the film room?

Say what you will about the ethics of it all and whether or not you think these students should leave college with a "real-world" degree, but it's nearly impossible to make the argument that these students are not being fairly compensated, whether it be through training them for a career in the major leagues or giving them a free education--if they choose to seriously pursue it--that hundreds of thousand of similar students could only wish to receive let alone afford.

To people who aren't the worst sports writer on the planet
Ace at The Wolverine Blog adds to Whitlock's argument saying that football in particular is a dangerous sport that carries inherent risk--risk that may make a football education null and void on any given play; allow student athletes to cash in while they can--and the restrictions on student athlete jobs is unfair.

To the latter (because it's easier to answer): student loans exist for a reason. That college athletes shouldn't leave college without having to pay back loans is silly. We're conditioned to think that a full scholarship means that everything is paid for, but there are very real things--food, rent, etc.--that college athletes have to pay for out of pocket. To which I say, student loans exist for a reason.

Football is indeed a violent sport, and one in which your career (and possibly life) can be ended on a single freak play. But if you were to ask any college football player whether or not they were aware of this, 100 out of 100 would tell you they are. They've been aware of it since they were 5 years old and watching SportsCenter and saw that terrifying Joe Theismann video. There's also a lot of reward that comes with a professional career in football. Using the game's violent nature or the difficulty to actually cash in on the career (such a small percentage of college football players ever see a legitimate NFL career) without talking to the players themselves is a straw house. I realize I'm making similar assumptions, but college football players are well aware of the risks and rewards of playing the game. Paying them because of those risks (while also paying for their education and ability to get the highest level of athletic training) is redundant.

But what about Bill Martin's yacht?
OK, so Bill Martin has a yacht that he sails on--or at least a really big sailboat--that we were all made of aware of when he took a noted leave of absence during the coaching search. The yacht was paid for by his salary which came from the school/athletic department, which gets its money from football revenue, which comes from on-field play by the student athletes in question and OH MY GOD SLAVERY. (Remember, Jason Whitlock was compensated, probably well, for extrapolating this revelation into 1,000 words and calling Reggie Bush Kunta Kinte.)

You can't deny the benefit that the university sees from the students that have chosen to attend their institution free of charge and with some of the most advanced, prominent training anyone on the planet can receive. People like Jason Whitlock will contend that this is slavery and these students are being used. But let's look at this hypothetically: Let's say every football ticket, jersey, and piece of athletic clothing were free to fans and the university made no money on sports. How does that in any way change the student athletes' decision to go to a university in an attempt to follow their dream of playing professional sports if they're still given free tuition and training?

More importantly, it's not like Mary Sue Coleman is going Scrooge McDuck money-pit-diving in athletic department money. A lot of that revenue goes to new facilities, paying for coaches salaries, etc., the kinds of things that directly benefit the players. The fact that football revenue doesn't go into the players' pockets doesn't harm the players, but rather it benefits the university. And isn't that why they have the team in the first place? The school has a team to make money. Students come to play for that school because it will give them a shot at the career/life they want. The school can give them that opportunity because they make money and can pay for the best training. It's a cycle.

This is too long
I guess the ultimate point here is that a) college football isn't slavery and b) Jason Whitlock gets paid money. I'm not advocating not paying players--though I am advocating not paying Jason Whitlock--but these are students who have purposefully bought into a system that has very rigid rules about "amateurism" and must abide by them. The rules are not nearly as arcane as "progressives" like Whitlock contend (he goes so far as to chastise journalists for falling in line behind the NCAA, in the process, commending himself for being such a visionary), but they're also not perfect.

Most importantly, college football is not slavery.

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Decision aftermath


I have a strange relationship with the city of Cleveland. I’ve lived here for two post-college years, working a job that I landed with the help of an acquaintance who happens to be my current boss. I’ve found the bare minimum of friends (the few that I have don’t like me very much, as evidenced by an e-mail I received earlier today from one of them telling me I was being an ass or some such at the bars last night). I’ve found very few activities—aside from my hockey team, I don’t really do much but golf, both of which can be performed elsewhere. And the city is at least partially responsible for the recent dissolution of a long-term, long-distance relationship that I realistically thought was Going Somewhere—this being the main impetus for my social collapse and general absence from this blog during the offseason.

For two years, I’ve spent a large amount of time following the Cavaliers, a team that I openly root against (I’m a Pistons fan; divisional rivals, etc.), to the point that I seriously contemplated starting a blog called “In the Enemy’s Corner” and taking a legitimate approach to reporting on and analyzing the team. The organization fascinated me for one reason: LeBron James.

“He doesn’t exist. He’s not real,” is my common refrain when describing James. He’s omnipotent. The things he’s physically capable of don’t exist in the lexicon of basketball, and watching him is like watching a demigod descend onto a waxed, hardwood floor; he’s a Shakespeare play. And as I decried for the last two years only to be told I don’t know anything about basketball, on the court he was surrounded by the equivalent of high-paid grade schoolers that couldn’t make a lay up.

I watched The Decision last night on ESPN in my apartment with a friend who has, for the last several years, been a Cavaliers season ticket owner. When LeBron announced he was taking his talents to South Beach, she let out a four-letter word loud enough that I was worried that the children who live in the house across the street might hear. She was upset. She was broken. Mostly, she was angry that she had already bought season tickets and owner Dan Gilbert had raised the price of tickets $3 per seat, per game (an extra $120 or so, but it’s the principal of the thing). At the bar later she showed me Gilbert’s rant to which I responded, “What an embarrassment. Who goes to the internet to post something like that publicly moments after something like this.” I didn’t realize that Dan Gilbert had written it.

In the streets, people were crying and burning James jerseys.

I’ve been mostly appalled today watching the reaction of the city, coworkers, friends, and the general public. LeBron is selfish and arrogant and he betrayed the city. This is the refrain of everyone in earshot. How could he do this to Cleveland?

I was talking to a friend about the impending decision two days ago. He said, “None of those guys is a legacy player in the same way that LBJ wants to be,” when I compared the Celtics Big 3 to the current situation in Miami. I responded, “Is he really itching to become what you want him to be? That's a bullshit conclusion to jump to, especially because there's a very real chance he joins Wade and Bosh in Miami, which says that maybe he doesn't give a fuck about being whatever it is you and Michael Wilbon think he wants to be.” (As an aside, I hate Michael Wilbon. That’s all.) A lot has been imposed on James, unfairly too.

What the city of Cleveland has failed to realize is that this is not about them. That’s not meant to be consolation: this is not an It’s Not You It’s Me situation. I mean it very literally: LeBron James going to Miami and no longer playing for the Cavaliers has nothing to do with the city of Cleveland. It’s about LeBron James and basketball, not curses and betrayal. Much like James, this whole situation is being saddled with a bunch of storylines similar to, “If MSU wins the NCAA Tournament in Detroit, it saves the city.” That sort of shark-jumping, begging-for-drama storyline that’s imposed on far too many sports stories.

So now LeBron James is essentially banished from his home state of Ohio. And that’s fine. That’s everyone’s right. He’ll be booed across the country for the way he handled the whole situation—rightly so, to an extent—and he’ll probably win multiple championships. Most importantly, maybe now, LeBron James can just be LeBron James.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

'The Decision'


Sometimes on my lunch breaks, I write about Michigan football. Sometimes I do this.


Tuesday, March 2, 2010

The evolution of goaltending and offensive strategy


 
After watching USA's 5-3 victory over what was clearly a far superior Canadian team in the Olympics a few weeks ago, the one thing that really struck me--besides Martin Brodeur's atrocious goaltending--was that the Canadian team lost the same way that Mike Babcock teams always lose: dominate the stat sheet in almost all meaningful categories but get beaten in the one that counts. It stuck with me to the point that, when the US tied the gold medal game to send it into overtime, I tweeted, "USA has to win. As a Red Wings fan, I've seen too many Mike Babcock teams in overtime."

One of the key tenants of Babcock's strategy--and seemingly Red Berenson's, one of the main reasons I'm writing this here--is simply to get pucks on net. Much of the offense works from the defense, down, with players screening the front of the net and looking for rebounds. (Note that what follows is not necessarily a condemnation of this system, but a few musings on its practicality in Hockey 2010.) The problem is, while this was an adequate strategy 15 years ago, the evolution of goaltending, and more specifically, goaltending equipment may be making this system mostly obsolete--during even strength play, about more which later.

The pictures above are of Dominik Hasek circa 1992 and US Olympic darling Ryan Miller, respectively. In recent years, the NHL has made a move to try and limit the size of goalies' pads, primarily, the size of the blocker, catcher, and leg pads (specifically how wide they are, as well as how high they extend beyond the knees). Aside from being physically larger (Miller is about three or four inches taller than Hasek), you can plainly see that the padding each uses is drastically different in size.

The point of Babcock and Berenson's systems is to get pucks on net with screens set up in front of the goalie, and look for tips and rebounds. This works well when a goalie is scrambling to try and find the puck and get in front of it. Rebounds are hard to control and often, you'd see a puck just slide into the net untouched because the goalie was unable to find it at all. But with today's goalie technology and the extensive training that goes into teaching goalies the butterfly style (you rarely, if ever, see a goaltender playing anything else), goalies can now basically take up the entire net and not worry about finding the puck, setting up a virtual wall behind the screen. As you can see in the picture above, Miller's extended leg pads cover almost the entire bottom of the net, while also covering his five hole, something older pads were unable to do. What this means is that while shots might get to the net with screens in front of the goalie, there's a bare minimum of space for the puck to actually get past him. And professional and collegiate goalies are so well trained that the few rebounds they do allow, they kick to the corner. Simply put, all of the advantages this system afforded 15 years ago are mostly tossed by the wayside.

And yet, this still seems to be the most effective offensive strategy on power plays. Why? One thing you'll probably notice from Red Wings/Michigan games is the influx of block shots by the opposing team. NHL and college players know their positions and for the most part, play them crisply. This means defensive wingers will be near defensemen in the offensive zone at almost all times. And in the Babcock/Berenson systems, you tend to see a lot of defensemen shooting the puck into the shins of the opposing wingers. The few shots that do get through to the net are often cancelled out by 1-on-1 matchups in front of the net, oversized goalies, and hapless rebounds that end up getting swept out of the zone, or at least out of harms way. The point being, with goalie technology and disciplined players, long--even screened--shots from the point are becoming increasingly low quality.

This strategy, on the power play, however is completely different. For the sake of argument, we'll say that a team on the penalty kill plays what's known as a the box or diamond, essentially a zone defense in which defenders try to take away passing lanes and attack when the offense looks out of sorts of loses the puck. The first advantage is that, obviously, teams are no longer playing 5 vs. 5, meaning that not only are shots from the point less likely to be blocked, the offensive team is more likely to get favorable numbers in front of the net should a rebound or tip occur. Next, efficient passing bends and breaks the box, further opening up lanes for the offense to shoot through and creating more matchup problems for the defense. With numbers, the system's advantages are restored.

So what's the point? The point is that shots on goal is not necessarily an indicator of how well a team has played, especially in this system. Babcock and Berenson have both run into these issues in the last year or so, seeing their teams significantly outshoot their opponents but lose by one or more goals because of the quality of shots. In all honesty, with the way goaltending is trending (not only are the pads getting bigger, but the goalies themselves are getting bigger, faster, and stronger), I'm not sure that this style of play is a sustainable winning offense in the future.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

How did we get here?


 
Bo Schembechler died the day before Michigan's last meaningful football game to date. Bowl games are fun but ultimately meaningless. Appalachian State wasn't meaningful either, and neither was anything thereafter. Since then, Michigan hired Rich Rodriquez and stumbled through two of the program's worst seasons while it watches a proud and diverse fanbase splinter and divide.

I've spent the last few days mostly ignoring the media on the topic of NCAA allegations and Michigan. I read a few trusted and collected writers and begrudgingly decided to listen in on the Wilbon recoil via PTI--which was surprisingly rational--but otherwise, I've steered clear. I don't want to get angry anymore, and I know reading about the situation will do only that. Angry and disappointed seem to be the two emotions I've felt most often over the last two years, and I can openly admit that far too much of my emotional wellbeing is tied up in the success of Michigan athletics.

But as a fan, that's what we're supposed to do. Fans without any emotional investment are no fans at all, and college athletics brings that attachment more than any other sporting event. Because I'm part of Michigan, the tradition, the University. My name is forever associated with that school and that's not something that I neither regret nor take lightly. Michigan is a pretty essential part of my identity, to the point that even my brother, a fellow Michigan alum, gets annoyed at how often I talk about the school and its athletics.

But now we're all stuck looking for answers--some more maliciously than others. Why hasn't Rich Rodriguez been successful? Why has the fanbase splintered so significantly? What's wrong with our basketball and hockey teams? Logic has mostly been tossed out as is often the case with athletics. And anger, disappointment, and mistrust begin to take over many's feelings toward the program. The point is, I understand why Mark Snyder wants Rich Rodriguez out of Michigan. I don't agree with him, his methods, or his lack of self-control--because that's what this whole fiasco has been about--but I do understand him. He's looking for answers and believes those begin with the ousting of Rich Rodriguez. We should all be so lucky so as to having the backing of a major metropolitan newspaper.

The spread offense can't work in the Big Ten and Rich Rodriguez can't win at Michigan because he's not from the Schembechler coaching tree. These are not logical ideas and yet people are willing to accept them as reasonable because it's an answer. They're answers to why Michigan is struggling and how to make everything better. Because for a lot of people Lloyd Carr's Michigan wasn't broken or out of date, it was perfectly suitable for the contemporary college football environment. Eight to ten wins a season, a middling national storyline punctuated by a win or loss to Ohio State. This is Michigan and it doesn't need fixing or reworking. But Appalachian State doesn't just happen, and trying to logically explain it returns only that things were not quite as settled in the Carr camp as decendents and alums of the Schembechler school want to imagine. And then there's the divided former players. Morgan Trent and Braylon Edwards standing staunchly on one side of the line and everyone else cautiously and reasonably waiting in the middle. Very few have crossed the line to the Rodriguez camp.

The question is why, though. Why did so many people dislike Rich Rodriguez from the outset? Why have the former players so completely turned their backs on the program, and more importantly, the University which they represent? This is a concept I can't imagine. Michigan will forever be my University, regardless of what they do.

I started this blog as a place where I could talk about sports, primarily Michigan sports, and really go in depth into the ideas and people that matter to me. And yet I've spent most of my time angry and disappointed, lost amid game film, staring at coverages and techniques and wondering why we can't get it right. My way of coping with all of this is to post electronic music on Fridays rather than write up another column about how our once-hyped basketball team can't win games against Big Ten basement dwellers and doing statistical significance analysis of shooting percentages.

So I avoid the discussion of all of this because it's only going to get me angry. I'm already disappointed that it happened but it's over with. Just like 2008 and 2009, these are things that happened and now it's time to just go forward. Rationally.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Shooting and statistical significance


Sparked by a conversation I had on UMHoops yesterday, I sought out to figure out if the poor three-point shooting from Michigan this year is a regular statistical fluctuation or an accurate reflection of a team that's objectively worse than they were last year. My point of view is that the difference in the 33.4% shooting last year and this year's 29.7% is not really that out of the blue, and in fact, a fairly reasonable output given the data we have. And a random statistical significance calculator I found online seems to agree with me.

(DISCLAIMER: I did particularly poorly in Stats at Michigan and my logic herein might be flawed or flat-out wrong. I don't think it is and had someone much more knowledgeable on the topic look it over. A few times. I am also trusting that this calculator is doing the math correctly. My numbers come from the ESPN Michigan team page, so if they don't quite match the numbers you've seen elsewhere, this is where I'm getting them. But if my logic is correct here and this is a reputable calculator, then, well, read...)

I went into this experiment assuming that the difference in shooting percentage between the 2008-2009 Michigan hoops team and the 2009-2010 team--33.4% to 29.7%--was not statistically significant. Simplistically, this means that given the data, the 29.7% performance this year is a reasonable and unexceptional fluctuation in the team's output from last year. Furthermore, this would go to show that Michigan may just be the recipient of bad luck and experiencing a regular deviation from their performance last year, rather than being outwardly worse, as some suggest.

Now, someone who is really good with these sorts of things would be able to show you the formulas and explain what everything means. I can give you this:


So this nifty little program tells me I was right and the difference between these two shooting percentages is not statistically significant. But what does that mean exactly?

Well, like I said above, it means that we can likely say--albeit not definitively--that the 29.7% three-point shooting performance the team has shown this year is within the team's reasonable capabilities. That is, we can say that the performance this year is quite likely representative of the team's skill and performance given their outcomes last year. Again, this is not an exact process and is something to keep an eye on going forward, but we can't say definitively we're worse yet.

So my post At what point do we say: They just can't shoot, is mostly right. Though the performance this year may not indicative of the team's talent, it's difficult to say yet whether or not they're objectively worse this year than they were last year, at least for the time being.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Where did it all go?


I've been trying to figure out what's wrong with Michigan hoops this year. It's been tough. Ad nauseum, I've talked about Manny, and even lately, I've gotten on Beilein who, IMO, has been mostly absent in games this year. But I decided to look a little deeper into just the numbers, and where the team might be missing whatever it had last year.

The first thing that struck me when I looked at the sheer numbers is just how similar (or better) this season is to last. The assist/TO ratio of 1.5/1 bests lasts year 1.3/1, even with the loss of sure-handed Kelvin Grady and the two senior guards. Turnovers per game were down, too, 10.7 last year to 11.5 this year. Blocks per game were up slightly and personal fouls were down slightly. The shooting percentage is even higher this year than it was last year. But that doesn't really paint an accurate picture.

Let's start with points for and against. This year, Michigan is averaging 69.6 points for and 63.6 points against. In the 2008-2009 season, the team averaged 66.8 points for and 63.2 points against. By this measure, Michigan is scoring at a slightly higher clip than they were last year and allowing less than a half-point more against opponents. These numbers, as it stands right now, might be a bit misleading, though. Michigan has only played 15 games this year, and a number of them have been of the cupcake variety. They played the same kinds of games last year too, but in last season's numbers, those cupcake games are significantly more balanced by the rest of Michigan's schedule. As such, we can probably assume that both Michigan's points for will drop and points against will rise marginally, at least theoretically. But to that end, they're still remarkably similar to last year's numbers.

Next up: shooting percentage. Much has been made this year of Michigan's struggles from beyond the three-point arc. Last year, the team shot a pedestrian 33.4% from the outside. At this point of the season, they've gotten their three-point percentage up to 29.7%, which is still a marked decline, but not necessarily one that should result in a four game difference in the win column. More interesting, however, is that Michigan's overall shooting percentage is actually up this year: 43.4% this year to 42.5% last year. A small difference, sure, but given the struggles from beyond the arc, this means that Michigan is making their two-pointers at a significantly higher clip or taking noticeably less three pointers. And through the wizardry of math, we find that Michigan made 50.8% of it's two-point shots last year, compared to 54.0% of their two-point shots this year. As we've seen above, this actually comes out to a 2.8 PPG differential in favor of the 2010 season (given that Michigan is taking more shots per game--almost four--and less 3s per game).

So again, it doesn't look like shooting is what's killing Michigan. One of the only statistical categories that Michigan 2010 is trailing Michigan 2009 is points per shot: 1.20 to 1.23 respectively. This stat, while importantly, seems to be highly variable and may not, when you get down to differences like .03, have much of an impact on wins and losses. For example, the 2006-2007, 20-11 Michigan team scored 1.26 PPS, the same .03 difference the 2010 team has from the 2009 team. But in the case of 2007 vs. 2009, the win/loss difference is only one game, as opposed to the four game difference the 2010 Michigan is currently experiencing.

The point being, by most statistical measures, 2010 Michigan is at or exceeding 2009 Michigan. And on the defensive side of the ball, the trend continues. As noted above, blocks are up this year, and so too are steals. After some digging through the NCAA web site, I even uncovered that Michigan's defensive field goal percentage is almost identical to last year: 43.6% this year compared to 43.5% last year.

So after looking through all of this, I can't really come to a conclusion. One of a few different things has happened: Michigan has a few games that stand as drastic statistical outliers and their numbers are inflated this year, they've been wholly unlucky, or they're failing to manufacture wins. The first of these, we'll have to wait and see. If Michigan's season averages dip significantly as they traverse the Big Ten schedule, we can assume that they're just not as good a team. In terms of luck, the team has only had two games that, had they gotten one or two more rolls, would have tipped their way (2 point loss to Alabama and the 4 point loss to Utah).

And at this point, I think you have to turn to the fact that Michigan hasn't manufactured any wins, and that falls squarely on the shoulders of Beilein. His in-game presence has been lacking and the team hasn't really looked prepared or able to adapt. And at some point, some of that blame needs to go to Beilein. Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to run him out of town. He's a great coach. But he's going to need to start proving it.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Manny Harris diatribe (cont.)


I don't care that Manny didn't have a great game last night. That's not what this is about. Anyone who's been reading this blog knows that I haven't been particularly impressed with Manny Harris this season. I tried to explain why and everything I said came off as pretty circumstantial--inflated numbers because there wasn't much help on the roster, unable to take over games, whatever that means, and inconsistency regardless of averaging nearly 20 points a game. But watching the team last night completely regress in the first half, it finally hit me what bothers me so much about Harris' game.

A while ago, I said this of Harris,

Stars make their teammates better and Harris rarely does so. I'm not expecting him to run the point because that's not his position, but he doesn't flow with this team, working within their system. Simplistically, DeShawn Sims is the post presence and all the other players are the three point shooters, except Harris, who's schizophrenic and often plays with blinders on. But whatever the case, Harris seems to transcend Beilein's system and work on his own set of rules.

That was painfully apparent last night in the first half, and thinking back to the rest of the season, this is exactly the problem. On most offensive possessions, Harris stands on the shoulder of the three point line. He does half-hearted back cuts and tries to pop back out to get the ball in his hands. And the guards, inexperienced and not knowing what else to do, wait for him. They stand and stand and stand and wait until they can pass Harris the ball, at which point, there's about 10 seconds left on the shot clock, and Harris has the ball at a standstill 25 feet from the basket. And worse, Harris isn't Kevin Durant or Carmelo Anthony. He simply can't be relied to make a play on every possession.

There was a period of a few minutes in the first half against Penn State that Michigan pulled Harris, mostly because Taylor Battle was taking a breather (they both returned at the same time). The lineup was Sims/Novak/Douglass/Vogrich/LLP(?). The few possessions they had together ended poorly. Vogrich jacking up an airball. A few missed shots. But their play together looked great. There was movement by all five players on the floor. Lots of screens and cuts. And they actually produced some open shots that, were it not the first half and, well you know,  probably would've gone down.

When Harris is on the floor, the team plays a different system, and it unfortunately starts and ends with Manny Harris. The creed that this team "lives and dies by DeShawn Sims" is no joke. And there's a reason it's Sims and not Harris: Sims fits into the Beilein system in a way that Harris simply doesn't. When Sims is working on the block, the three point shooters can get open and produce good looks. When the game runs through Harris, the point of attack begins at the three-point line and the shooters have really no options besides swinging the ball around the perimeter.

This is, again, not supposed to be a condemnation of Manny Harris who is a great player and likely an NBA Draft-level talent. But in the system that Michigan runs, he just doesn't fit.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

A playoff proposal


I've been thinking about the BCS a lot lately for obvious reasons, and just this morning had a conversation with a friend who was wondering whether or not Boise State's schedule next year would put them in National Championship contention (if they win out), because they'll be ranked relatively high preseason. My general feeling toward it is no, they wouldn't, based on the strength, or lack thereof, of the WAC.

He then asked what I thought should be the NC game when I roundly dismissed the possibility of BSU or TCU playing in the game legitimately this year. A rematch between Alabama and Florida (although such a rematch can never happen because OSU/Michigan was denied one in '06) or Alabama and Georgia Tech--winners of the two best conferences in college football this year.

It was at this point that the idea of a reasonable college playoff system came into my mind. I already sort of addressed this issue and came to the conclusion that,

A playoff still brings controversy, though, as the teams that make it into the playoffs are still ranked on a computer-generated basis a la RPI or BCS computer polling and there will be a debate as to what 10-1 teams should get the final playoff spot etc. etc.

But giving the major conference champions automatic bids into an 8-team playoff seems perfect to me. Take the six major conferences' (ACC, Big Ten, Big East, Big 12, SEC, Pac-10) conference winners and have two at-large births for independents and mid-majors.

What I like about this system is that it eliminates the drama that a playoff system of "the best 6 (8) teams in the country" would inevitably bring. If a 6-team playoff system were in place right now, whose to say that Ohio State or Oregon should be left out instead of TCU or BSU, based on the strength of the teams respective conferences--BSU has the edge over Oregon due to a head-to-head win, but after seeing the game last night, are you so sure that OSU couldn't beat TCU or BSU? (Simply, I'm not sold on the idea that going undefeated in the WAC > One or two losses in the SEC/Big Ten/etc.)

This would bring in a few issues, though, namely that nonconference play seems completely worthless now. But seeding in the playoff could be determined by record and strength of schedule in nonconference play. The seeding would look something like this:


What this system will also do is encourage teams to schedule strong nonconference slates without the fear of losing a/multiple game(s) and being completely forgotten in the national picture. But, that's not to say that there's not a premium on winning these games. The primary focus is on winning your conference, however, as that gets you a bid into the playoff. This may necessitate a conference championship game or it may not. Either way would be fine with me. Seeding would also dictate home-field advantage until the National Championship game, which would be played at a neutral site.

In the end, this system would eliminate any griping from the major conferences (and probably most from the mid-majors/independents as there's unlikely to be more than two teams from those conferences worthy of such an at-large bid). It would give each conference a chance to settle it on the field, and would avoid the rematches that the BCS is so clearly opposed to. It would also remove any drama from the selection process and bickering over who gets in among the major programs.

As for the rest of the bowls, I don't quite know how this would pan out. This is the biggest issue against this system. Without a national ranking system, it would be difficult to match teams appropriately, but with all of the conference tie-ins that the bowls currently have, something could easily be established. The #2s of each conference meet somehwhere, etc. The point being: It could be done with the most important issue--the playoff--set in place. And if you were to match teams by their conference rank, you wouldn't end up with terribly overmatched Big Ten teams getting blown out in bowls.

It's basically the NFL model, but instead of wildcards and first-week byes, you have at-large bids being matched up against the conference champion with, presumably, the best resume. By the end, you have a champion who has beaten three conference champions, the final being on a neutral site. Opposition may come in the form of universities complaining that teams are playing too many games or too long, but, well, deal with it. It's three more games than the current system and, in some cases, only one more than a national champion would play in a 6-team playoff scenario.