During the miraculous summer of 2009 when Red Sox right fielder JD Drew posted the second-highest OPS among all AL outfielders, my girlfriend (affectionately referred to as the Franchise on How Youz Doin Baseball) worked at the local Bath and Body Works as one of her summer jobs. Now anybody who knows me knows how I get down, so therefore you know that I’m really not too big into body lotions, bubble baths, or pretty much any product that the Franchise was selling.
However, I was interested in visiting the Franchise from time to time while she was logging her hours at B&BW. So I did.
What was problematic about my visits is the fact that a high priority is placed on a statistic called “conversion.” The corporate heads have mandated that this location should have 70% conversion, i.e. 70% of people who walk through the threshold of the store have to buy something. They don’t have to buy $10 worth of goods; they just have to buy something. And if a location does not reach its conversion goal, the managers get chewed out and the misery is passed all the way down to people like the Franchise.
As I am one who always likes to take one for the team, I sometimes visited the Franchise at work and I agreed to buy something so I wouldn’t screw up the conversion statistic. So every time I went in there, I bought a $1.50 mini-sized bottle of hand sanitizer. Not because it would protect me against swine flu, but because it was the lowest-priced item in the store. So my presence there created next to nothing in terms of revenue for the store or the organization. By wasting the Franchise’s time, my being there was probably flat-out detrimental to the well-being of the store.
But I helped their conversion statistic. I’m not positive if the Franchise’s B&BW had the second-highest conversion of all B&BW locations in Massachusetts, but my unprofitable visit helped their statistic. This statistic is certainly a helpful metric, but placing so much emphasis on it that the firm thinks my visit was helpful is foolish.
The metaphor is pretty obvious. If an organization values JD Drew’s production so highly because he has a high OPS fueled solely by the fact that he goes to the plate looking for walks instead of trying to drive runs in, they are the same as B&BW determining that the 6-7:00 hour was successful because my $1.50 purchase was enough to get them over 70% conversion. Just as the conversion doesn’t tell the whole story because the firm only took in $1.50 revenue, Drew’s OPS doesn’t tell the part about how a walk doesn’t get a run in from second or third base because the guy behind him struck out or about how batters grounded into countless double plays directly after JD Drew walked. I love walks and I understand they’re useful. But for metrics like the one that Epstein valued JD’s worth with, a two-out walk with Varitek on deck is worth as much as a bases-clearing double. Just like some idiot from Lynnfield could be walking out of the store with $2000 worth of merchandise and I help the statistics more because I have several 1.5-ounce bottles of Cucumber Melon, Warm Vanilla Sugar, and Nectarine Mint hand sanitizer sitting in my car.
Sabermetrics speak volumes about the stochastic nature of baseball, and they have changed the game for the better in a big way. But after the Theo Epstein Obama-Style Radio Tour, it has become clear that sabermetrics have gone way off the freaking deep end. People have clearly started to look at one column of the stat sheet (OPS) and that’s a delusional way to evaluate baseball players. That’s why this winter, you will see a series on HYD Baseball called Death of Sabermetrics. Who could imagine that such venom is going to come from hands that are so germ-free and pleasant-smelling?