Posted by burnsy483 on 11/20/2013 5:17:00 PM (view original):
Posted by bad_luck on 11/20/2013 5:11:00 PM (view original):To anyone who isn't clinically insane, those 10 wins would be MUCH more valuable to the Rangers than they were to the Angels.
Posted by burnsy483 on 11/20/2013 5:09:00 PM (view original):You asked how valuable those 10 wins were to the Angels and Rangers.
Posted by bad_luck on 11/20/2013 5:07:00 PM (view original):Yes, it's not what I'm asking.
Posted by burnsy483 on 11/20/2013 5:03:00 PM (view original):Those 10 wins are worth 10 wins. To the Angels, Mets, Cubs, Yankees, Orioles, Blue Jays, Rangers, Astros, Marlins, Braves...
And how valuable would those 10 wins have been to the Angels? And to the Rangers? ....TO THE TEAM
Worth and value can mean the same thing in certain circumstances. But they are 2 different words for a reason.
The answer is 10 wins. Trout's value was 10 wins.
I'll let Posnanski
respond to this:
No, actually, I think “most valuable” and “best” are just about perfect baseball synonyms. The most valuable player is the best player. The best player is the most valuable one. Sure, I have read countless times about “valuable” being a magical word imbued with intangibles and leadership qualities and heart and grit and all sorts of other things that “best” simply does not cover. I believed them too. Heck, in my early days as a columnist, I probably even wrote some of those columns. I don’t buy it now.
Funny thing, even four or five years ago, I got into a mild argument with Bill James about what “valuable” really means. Bill had used a poker analogy — his point was that in basic Texas hold ‘em poker the ace of spades is ALWAYS more valuable than the seven of diamonds. Always. The seven never wins when matched up with the ace. Two sevens loses to two aces. An ace-high straight or flush always beats a seven-high straight or flush. If you and someone else have the same two pair, a fifth card ace beats a fifth-card seven every single time.
Bill was making the point that we know — absolutely know — that an ace is more valuable than a seven. And yet sometimes, because of the arrangement of the cards, a seven of diamonds may SEEM more valuable than an ace of spades. Let’s say the seven of diamonds comes in as the last card and it completes a winning straight or finishes a victorious flush. That’s a huge moment. The winner celebrates. The loser complains to bored spectators for the rest of his or her life. And you would think the seven was the most valuable card in the deck.
But Bill’s point was that the ace of spades is still more valuable than the seven. It just happened to be in a losing hand.
Well, back then I mostly agreed with Bill, but a small part of me could not escape the hypnotic powers of ALL THOSE COLUMNS telling me that valuable was something other than best. I said, OK, the overall point is true, but could you not argue that for THAT ONE HAND the seven of diamonds is more valuable than the ace? After all, the ace would not have finished the straight or the flush. So the seven, in that one hand, is more valuable.
And he responded with something that still makes sense to me: If the seven completes a straight or a flush then it is no more valuable than any other card in that hand. It’s only an illusion of timing — the seven of diamonds coming as the last card — that makes it seem more valuable. And no matter how you dress it up or how many good cards you put around it, the seven of diamonds still ain’t an ace of spades.