Topical article by Greg Baum in today's
Age.
Footy's stat obsession doesn't add up
IT USED to be that possession was nine-tenths of the law. Now it is the law. Ten-tenths of it. You know, that's a lot of tenths in a single paragraph. It might even be a record, the most in one paragraph since decimalisation.
Too often, this is the way football is looked at nowadays: in terms of the possessions, in terms of stats. Watch and listen this weekend. It sounds sometimes as if some commentators are not so much observing the game as monitoring a bank of meters in a cockpit.
When Shane Wakelin was interviewed after Collingwood had beaten Sydney last Saturday, the first question put to him was not about his triumph over Barry Hall, a considerable feat, but about his statistics; they were a personal best.
Two weeks ago, it was if there was a race between Daniel Kerr, Matt Priddis and the record books. Every touch either player had of the ball was given a number, like a label. That's number 39, that's 40, that's 41.
On Channel Seven, even Nathan Buckley was sucked into the escalating, but faux drama; it was some record of his they were threatening, after all.
That night, the high numbers came to represent a sort of victory in themselves. But I doubt West Coast saw all those gets as a gain; it lost by a wide margin. In any case, the figures were distortions, somehow conveying that Kerr and Priddis had played games to compare with Greg Williams in his heyday.
Really, they were functions of the way the modern game is played. You can be damned sure that when Williams got 40 touches, Carlton did not lose.
On Friday night last week, it was Geelong that was on the clock. With Adelaide quickly out of the picture, the match was boiled down to a contest between Geelong and the record for most possessions in a game. On such terms, the Cats were up narrowly at half-time, then faded slightly to finish third.
This week, one can only imagine, they have been working on their negative splits.
Again, this narrow context served only to cheapen another sublime Geelong display. Of course the Cats have high numbers; they are the best side in the game, and by a margin that does not need to be quantified to be understood and appreciated. High numbers are used now as a drunk uses a lamp post, for support rather than illumination.
At the end of a previous match this season, against Essendon, Geelong also was declared to have broken the all-time possessions record. Then there was a correction; it was only the second-most, as if that changed everything.
Mark Thompson put it in perspective when he said it meant only that the Cats had over-used the ball that night. Some looked at him weirdly.
It's not just possessions. Stats are kept in every imaginable category: goals, behinds, points. Kicks — long and short, effective and ineffective — handballs, handball receives. Marks — contested and uncontested — marks inside 50, marks Thompson, Williams and Harvey. Inside 50s, rebound 50s, 50 metres, run-a-ball 50s, new 40 50s.
Tackles, clearances, stoppages, arrests. Spills, spoils, spoilt. Hard-ball gets, loose-ball gets, forgets, can't forgets, won't forgets. Running bounces, running away from bouncers.
Clangers, bangers, frangers, sangers. Drug tests, blood tests, urine tests. Inside urinations, outside urinations, rebound urinations (aka splashes). Drink cards, drink card receives. Hit-outs, knock-ons, knock-backs, bail-outs, stuff-ups, punch-ups, p!ss-ups and throw-ups.
Still they don't capture the game's essence. You could describe the opening of the Geelong-Adelaide match by saying the Cats had eight possessions — six handballs, two kicks — and a shot at goal before the Crows touched the ball.
Or you could simply say, as John Harms did in these pages on Wednesday, that regulars in his bar watched, shook their heads and laughed. Nothing was lost. Experts sift through these piles for meaning when in truth they have never been more meaningless.
It is not how fans in the stands watch the game, clicker in hand. It is not how clubs watch the game: they look at other trends and indications.
Surely it is not how superstars watch the game. Buckley has forgotten more about what goes on out there than I can ever begin to know. It's his insights I value, not variations on the six-times table.
I blame Allan Jeans. When he was coaching Hawthorn to flag after flag, he would invariably begin his post-match news conferences by saying: "I'm happy to help you boys with your stories, but I don't want to be quoted."
His overview was fascinating, but strictly off the record. Jeans would always have in his hand a rolled-up sheaf of statistics. I doubt he ever looked at them. But at the end of the conference, as a kind of closing formality, Jeans would push his glasses down to the end of his nose, look meaningfully at the papers and ask: "Wanna see the stats, boys?" Of course we did: we had no quotes to go on with.
So it began. Now it is an industry, competitive, cut-throat even. Stats have their place, undoubtedly. But they need to be used selectively, not as a kind of blitzkrieg. They need to be analysed, not simply amassed. Clearances usually tell a tale. So do inside 50s, contested marks and, perhaps, the kicks-to-handballs ratio.
Stats must be put in context. On paper, Gary Ablett and, say, Joel Bowden might both have 30 possessions, but you know they will have played very different games.
I'm afraid this obsession with possession is a manifestation of the modern syndrome by which only what can be counted counts. It is the triumph of economic rationalism: is 35-plus possessions, is bankable, is good.
Perhaps Geelong might be able to trade some of its many excess possessions this season for carbon credits. That way, we would be rid of at least some of the hot air.
Mark Thompson put it in perspective when he said it meant only that the Cats had over-used the ball that night. Some looked at him weirdly.
It's not just possessions. Stats are kept in every imaginable category: goals, behinds, points. Kicks — long and short, effective and ineffective — handballs, handball receives. Marks — contested and uncontested — marks inside 50, marks Thompson, Williams and Harvey. Inside 50s, rebound 50s, 50 metres, run-a-ball 50s, new 40 50s.
Tackles, clearances, stoppages, arrests. Spills, spoils, spoilt. Hard-ball gets, loose-ball gets, forgets, can't forgets, won't forgets. Running bounces, running away from bouncers.
Clangers, bangers, frangers, sangers. Drug tests, blood tests, urine tests. Inside urinations, outside urinations, rebound urinations (aka splashes). Drink cards, drink card receives. Hit-outs, knock-ons, knock-backs, bail-outs, stuff-ups, punch-ups, p!ss-ups and throw-ups.
Still they don't capture the game's essence. You could describe the opening of the Geelong-Adelaide match by saying the Cats had eight possessions — six handballs, two kicks — and a shot at goal before the Crows touched the ball.
Or you could simply say, as John Harms did in these pages on Wednesday, that regulars in his bar watched, shook their heads and laughed. Nothing was lost. Experts sift through these piles for meaning when in truth they have never been more meaningless.
It is not how fans in the stands watch the game, clicker in hand. It is not how clubs watch the game: they look at other trends and indications.
Surely it is not how superstars watch the game. Buckley has forgotten more about what goes on out there than I can ever begin to know. It's his insights I value, not variations on the six-times table.
I blame Allan Jeans. When he was coaching Hawthorn to flag after flag, he would invariably begin his post-match news conferences by saying: "I'm happy to help you boys with your stories, but I don't want to be quoted."
His overview was fascinating, but strictly off the record. Jeans would always have in his hand a rolled-up sheaf of statistics. I doubt he ever looked at them. But at the end of the conference, as a kind of closing formality, Jeans would push his glasses down to the end of his nose, look meaningfully at the papers and ask: "Wanna see the stats, boys?" Of course we did: we had no quotes to go on with.
So it began. Now it is an industry, competitive, cut-throat even. Stats have their place, undoubtedly. But they need to be used selectively, not as a kind of blitzkrieg. They need to be analysed, not simply amassed. Clearances usually tell a tale. So do inside 50s, contested marks and, perhaps, the kicks-to-handballs ratio.
Stats must be put in context. On paper, Gary Ablett and, say, Joel Bowden might both have 30 possessions, but you know they will have played very different games.
I'm afraid this obsession with possession is a manifestation of the modern syndrome by which only what can be counted counts. It is the triumph of economic rationalism: is 35-plus possessions, is bankable, is good.
Perhaps Geelong might be able to trade some of its many excess possessions this season for carbon credits. That way, we would be rid of at least some of the hot air.
http://www.realfooty.com.au/news/news/stats-obsession-doesnt-add/2008/07/11/1215658137175.html