Bill James And Music? Read On.

This actually isn't another post about baseball, but it will use a baseball analogy. Allow me to explain.

In a recent blog post about Luke Hochevar's 13 strikeouts, no walk performance last weekend, Joe Posnanski brought up an old Bill James theory called "signature significance." The idea is that you typically can't glean too much from one pitching performance, but there are some performances that are so dominant, that they are indicative for greatness. In James' example, if a pitcher strikes out 15 without walking anyone, that probably means the pitcher is a star. In fact, it's more indicative than a no-hitter would be. There have been 21 pitchers in history to turn the 15 K, 0 BB trick, and 20 of them were either Hall of Famers or All-Star quality. The odd man out is Sterling Hitchcock, and even he pitched in the big leagues for more than a decade.

Anyway, I've started to wonder if "signature significance" applies to other walks of life. I'm headed to the All Points West music festival tomorrow, and while there a number of acts that I am quite familiar with (Heartless Bastards, Q-Tip, Vampire Weekend, Jay-Z), I've been trying to check out some of the other performers who I don't know nearly as well. One of those acts is Ra Ra Riot, and I was immediately blown away when I went to their MySpace page and listened to "Can You Tell." Quite simply, it's a fucking amazing song. If you disagree, I'm not sure we can be friends. Great melody, simple, yet affective, lyrics, and a fantastic arrangement. I've probably listened to it roughly 25 times in the last two days.



(My only question is, what does "I'm standing by your sister fair," mean? Every other lyric makes perfect sense besides that one.)

So this song got me thinking, does the ability to produce one song on this level indicate a truly special ability to create music? I downloaded the rest of Ra Ra Riot's album, and though I haven't listened to it intently, I can say with confidence that it's good. But does one transcendent song guarantee a band is going to be great? And even if for some insane reason you don't think this song is great, I think you get the point.

I know what you're probably thinking. There are tons of one-hit wonders out there, and none of those are great artists. However, let's be honest about most one-hit wonders, the songs are usually catchy, but they're not great. I can listen to "Walkin' On Sunshine" everyday for the rest of my life and I won't tire of it, but that doesn't mean that it's a great song, and Katrina And The Waves a great band. It's a fun song that's incredibly catchy, but not transcendent. There is a difference.

(Sadly, YouTube won't let me embed the video for "Walkin' On Sunshine," but here's the link if you're interested.)

Obviously, judging signature significance for bands is far more subjective than it is for baseball. I'm actually inclined to think it doesn't exist, but I can't think of a good example. However, that doesn't mean it's not out there. Typically, when someone is trying to get me hooked on a new band, they will play me that band's best song. And if I think that song is worthy, then I will decide that the band must at least be decent if they made at least one song that good. So maybe, to borrow a phrase from the Geto Boys, my mind's playing tricks on me.



I can say with certainty that "signature significance" does not exist for filmmakers, and I can think of two examples. "Swingers" is an iconic movie, and Jon Favreau hasn't made a good one since. The same goes for "The Sixth Sense," which is the only M. Night Shyamalan movie worth a crap.

Anyway, I'm pretty fucking pumped for All Points West. I was disappointed when The Beastie Boys had to cancel cause of cancer (feel better, MCA!), because I have never seen them before. And like every white kid who grew up in NYC from 1986-2001, I went through a huge Beastie Boys phase during high school. Maybe teenagers are still going through Beastie Boys phases, but I doubt it. Since Q-Tip will also be at APW, I figured he would come on to do "Get It Together" with the Beasties. I'm disappointed that won't happen. Jay-Z, however, is a more-than-adequate replacement. I was at Hot 97 Summer Jam in 2001 when he first performed "The Takeover" and started his beef with Nas, so he's got a lot to live up to. Maybe he'll start shit with Soulja Boy. That would be awesome.

No Charge

There are few certainties in life. But for me, one of the few I can count on is this: When a non-sports oriented mainstream publication runs a major sports-related story, it will get e-mailed to me by at least four different people. I'm not complaining about this phenomenon, it's just a fact. People who know me know that I love sports, and therefore they think I will enjoy the story, or at least like to know what kinds of stories non-sports publications believe are worthy of publishing. And this goes both ways. I have a friend who loves, LOVES, Tom Waits, so if I see a story about Waits (or one that references him in any meaningful way), I will always send it to him in an e-mail that begins, "I'm sure I'm like the 20th person to send this to you, but . . ."

This is a long way of saying that when I heard Michael Lewis had a story about Shane Battier and the use of sabermetrics in basketball in The New York Times Magazine, I knew that a bunch of people would send it to me. And they did. Say what you want about Lewis, and some of the embellishments in "Moneyball," but he's an excellent storyteller. And as someone who has been really interested in the growing use of sabermetrics in basketball, I loved the story. Not only did I learn something about the Rockets' progressive methods, but Battier came off as affable, intelligent and self-aware. The one downside of the story is that it reminded me of why I used to hate Battier—drawing charges.

As someone who worshipped the Knicks of the early 1990s, it might seem a little hypocritical to knock a guy for his ability to draw charges. Heck, John Starks, Derek Harper and Charles Oakley were the Three Tenors of drawing charges. They made it in an art. And as the Knicks mastered the art of drawing charges at the pro level, the Duke Blue Devils were at the forefront of the movement in the college game, with Battier leading the way. I dislike Duke basketball (except for Grant Hill) for a variety of reasons, and their flopping is right up there at the top of the list.

I was discussing this phenomenon with my roommate, and he brought up a good point. "Has Stuff White People Like done a piece on drawing charges?" he asked. Seriously, is there anything white/Duke basketball players like more than drawing charges? I'm guessing it has something to do with making up for physical limitations, because I remember once drawing a charge in a middle school basketball game, and it was orgasmic. However, since I was playing against a bunch of other pudgy, Jewish kids, I'm not exactly sure if I was making up for any biological shortcomings.

The greater point of this whole thing is that charges are dumb, and I didn't come to this realization until long after Oakley had retired. By simply in getting in someone else's way, you can draw a foul, but shouldn't we encourage defenders to be making a play on the ball? Instead, we've created this culture where defenders try to calculate when they can step into someone else's path so as to draw a charge. Then they flop backwards like they've been shot to try and get the whistle, and they usually do. Then said player is embraced by their coach and verbally fellated by the TV announcers because of "good fundamentals." You know what is actually good fundamentals? Defending (and possibility blocking) the shot or pass.

It's funny, I've heard a lot of American criticize soccer because of all the diving to draw fouls, but that's exactly what every single basketball player is doing when they try to draw a charge. The only time a charge should be called is if the player with the ball is out of control. That's it. Otherwise, the onus should be on the defender to make a play on the ball.