It wasn’t drawn up like this

In better times I’m fond of noting the fickle nature of baseball, that a team who loses 10-0 one day can win 10-0 the next, that some games end 2-1 and others end 14-12, and that sometimes the worst team in the league can beat the tar out of the best.

Well, my hometown team–that would be the Washington Nationals–are not the worst team in baseball, but their starting pitcher Tuesday night does lead the National League in losses. Actually Patrick Corbin is tied for the league lead, and could have moved into sole possession of first with an L at the hands of the New York Yankees. The Yankees, by the way, have the best record in the American League, and have won an astonishing 42 games on the road this season.

Last night the Yanks had their best starting pitcher on the mound: Gerrit Cole. He’s the reigning Cy Young award winner and he makes a million dollars a start.

But Tuesday in Washington he was outdueled by Patrick Corbin, and the best hitters in the game made Corbin look like Sandy Koufax.

It’s a fickle game but it’s also a long season, and a new win streak is never more than a day away. With my hometown team relegated to the role of spoiler, I’ll take a few more wins for the team of my youth, thank you very much.

Rejudging this

I thought I was so clever last Monday when describing the relative unlikelihood that Yankee slugger Aaron Judge would one day break the all-time home run record.

I didn’t realize that he would hit one or two every day following this.

Might have to reevaluate some of that data.

Two things to remember: 1.) “on pace for” changes over time; and 2.) I’ll never be happier to admit I was wrong.

Seinfeld brings it at Wolf Trap

I’ve been a fan of Jerry Seinfeld for over 30 years, but until last night I’d actually seen him perform live only twice.

(Pause for effect.)

Make that now three after last night’s show at Wolf Trap, conveniently located 10 minutes down the road from my house.

There’s not much I can say at this point about why Jerry’s musings upon life are and have been so spot on the past few decades. He’s got a certain comedic insightfulness and has been poking fun at the world now professionally for 50 years. He knows what he’s doing in pointing out our flaws. He’s very happy… hating everything.

As many of us do, I find myself thinking the same quite often.

And even though I was in the last row and could barely see the stage (thank God for the jumbotrons because basically I was at a drive-in movie) I enjoyed hearing every bit. The new ones about AI, etc. were good, yes, but it was the classics I came to hear. (Nobody goes to hear the Rolling Stones for their new stuff.) Bits about ’90s TV shows and latenite infomercials? That’s gold, Jerry. Gold.

Though we’ve never actually met, Jerry Seinfeld to me is like the good friend I get to hang out with once every few years.

Hope to do it again soon.

My own Judgement

Last Wednesday Yankee slugger Aaron Judge hit his 300th career home run. It was only his 955th game and 3,431st at bat. Both of these were records.

Before the ball even came down (it was up there a while) fans and statheads were wondering the same question: does he have a shot at the all-time record of 762?

I love using the phrase “on pace for,” but the trouble with this on pace for is that there’s no set number of games or at bats any player will reach. The only number we know is the number of home runs that would give Judge the record: 763. Everything else is an unknown.

Consider the number of games played. In a season it’s obviously 162. At most. For a career, that finish line is a variable, and you can’t solve an equation with more than one variable… except to describe it in terms of another variable. For example, I can say that x is half of y, or y is twice as big as x, but unless you tell me what one of them is I can’t tell you the other.

In the Judge example, the only thing set is that we want him to finish with 763 home runs. We could look at his “pace” for his first 955 games and see how long it would take him to get to 763, but there’s no guarantee he would play that long, nor that he would keep up this pace.

For what it’s worth it’s 2,429 games. This is the total number of games needed, about 15 full seasons (that number divided by 162). Subtract the 955 he’s already played and you have 1,474, or a little over nine full seasons. Nine full seasons playing every single game at the rate he’s hit home runs in his relative youth. Trouble is, everyone slows down towards the end of his career. The pace really does change, whether you’re looking at a full career, just a few seasons, a single year, a single week, etc. 

If we knew Judge were going to play until he was x years old or knew that he’d never be injured it would be a lot easier to say whether he could set the all-time record. The math can show us only when we’ve set a few factors in place. The human side of things makes it impossible without making a few assumptions. The thing Judge has working for him is that he’s a great hitter; the thing he has working against him is that he didn’t play his first MLB game until he was 24, and even at age 29 he had only 123 home runs. (Like this is easy.) For a little contrast, on his 29th birthday Alex Rodriguez hit his 370th career home run. It was the 1,374th game of a career that started when he was 18.

At this point we can sort of forget the “on pace for” and recognize what we all race against: Father Time. Let’s say Judge plays 10 more years from the day he hit his 300th home run. That would make him 42 years and a few months old, just about the same age Bonds and Hank Aaron played their final games. The math on this one is easy: 463 more home runs to go divided by 10 years is 46.3 homers a season.

Neither Aaron nor Bonds nor A-Rod nor Albert Pujols (the closest anyone’s come to the record since Bonds) ever averaged 46 in a 10-year stretch. Not in their youth, not in their later years, not ever.

Hmm.

It’ll be a tall order for Aaron Judge to pass Barry Bonds on the all-time home run list, given his relatively late start and realization that, well, we all age. If he does set the record and I have to eat crow in a subsequent post…

I’ll never be happier about admitting I was wrong.

It’s all fun and games until…

This summer I’ve really enjoyed listening to the “new” musical release from Lee Mendelson Film Productions, the soundtrack to It Was a Short Summer, Charlie Brown.

It’s Vince Guaraldi and company, doing what can be described simply as “Charlie Brown jazz.” Some pieces were used in the short film and some are previously-unreleased material, but it’s all top notch.

Though I’ll admit the title is hitting a little close to home today.

And now… real life

I’ve picked up a few French phrases the past deux semaines watching les Jeux Olympiques. Among others I’d say “apropos” and “touche.”

These are the sentiments that came to mind when reading the viral Tweet of American sprinter Quincy Wilson, 16 years young. After running in the 4×400 relay he reminded us that he has school starting in a couple weeks.

Touche, young Quincy.

And for me it’s actually deux jours.

As Quincy said… dang.

Back in New York

Today on Math and Musings Franklin and I discuss our recent trip to New York City.

Actually the trip was like a month ago and I’ve been to several other cities and states since, but for better or worse the podcast is only once a week.

Nice to reminisce a bit as I listen today.

Hope you do too.

39 down, 11 to go

Someday I’ll enjoy saying that I’ve been to all 50 states. I’d been stalled at 38 for several years, actually, not just because of Covid but because, well, they just get harder and harder to collect. Two days ago I drove to Tennessee because… it was the closest state on my list of states I’d never been to.

Yup.

Remember, the best gift you can give yourself is a good story to tell.

I ever tell you about the time I drove to Tennessee just to say I’d been to Tennessee?

Great way to spend a Monday.

Like George Mallory and Mount Everest, I went because it was there. And someday, yes someday, I’ll say that I’ve been to all 50.