This coming baseball season is shaping up to be strange in at least one way: how few teams are trying to win. I saw one article that pointed out that fewer than half of teams will actually be putting in an effort to compete, with the rest in mid-rebuild, and going through the motions while building up a collection of prospects.
That's a bit of an exaggeration, since their list of rebuilding teams counted teams like the Blue Jays that are half-heartedly competing, neither trying to improve the roster nor rebuilding. But then, you know that if they aren't fast out of the gate, the clearance sale will begin.
It's not hard to see why this is happening. The last three World Series winners (Royals, Cubs, Astros) have shown us the optimum strategy: grooming a generation of prospects to peak at the same time. Teams that do this have a clear enough advantage that there isn't much point shuffling along with a mediocre line-up and hoping for the best.
On the one hand, that's refreshing: we went through twenty years of feeling it was futile to compete with big spending teams, so a change is welcome. Now it's futile to compete with great farm systems. The problem is that while this trend has produced some impressive teams - and allowed some smaller markets a better chance to compete - it's not very entertaining if half the teams are just biding time while they wait for tomorrow's stars to mature. And people are starting to notice.
To understand this, we have to go back to the question of why we watch sports. We may want to see our favourite teams win, and we may enjoy it when they win championships, but the truth is that most of the enjoyment of sports comes from seasons where your team is somewhere in the middle. They aren't world-beaters, but they aren't terrible either. You feel like you might compete if things line-up right for you. And it's good that you can enjoy those mediocre seasons, because that's where teams usually spend most of their time.
But if you're in a cycle of compete-selloff-rebuild-compete, then you never have those seasons. You have meaningless seasons of waiting punctuated by a few seasons of greatness. Those winning periods are nice, but the point is that you never go into any seasons with any intrigue. And if the whole league is using that same strategy, then there's not much to talk about, other than asking which of the four teams peaking this year are going to win.
It's similar in basketball, though not for the same reasons. Here in Raptorland, it's pretty strange. The team is first in their conference, in a season where the big obstacle, the Cavaliers, are looking beatable. You'd think that any team in our situation would be dreaming about winning it all. And yet, no one is talking about that. The most you hear is discussion of how we have a realistic chance of winning the Eastern Conference. No one is planning a championship parade; no one is even acknowledging the possibility.
The NBA may not be locked into baseball's extreme-makeover pattern, but in the same way that it's remarkable how few baseball teams are trying to compete, it's amazing how few basketball teams are true contenders.
But the other two big-four sports are at the opposite ebb. The NFL has had a great deal of parity for a while now. But this year we saw breakthroughs by the Eagles, Jaguars, Bills, Saints, and my Rams. That underlined the fact that coaching changes and under-the-radar personnel choices can have a big effect on a team's fortunes. For an NFL fan - as long as your team doesn't rhyme with "frowns" - You know that competitiveness could be right around the corner.
Meanwhile, hockey has so much parity that an expansion team is contending for first overall. That's got to have fans everywhere thinking that getting a competitive team is easier than they suspected.
For the last decade plus, the formula for success in the NHL has been to draft and develop a few superstars, keep them for the long-term while cycling through a succession of supporting players, holding on to them for as long as you can afford them. It was a nice system, since it rewarded planning by a well-run team, but unlike baseball, you could keep the core of a successful team together for a while, instead of selling-off the entire team and starting over after just a few years of contention.
But now, some teams with stars are failing. The aforementioned expansion Golden Knights are essentially a team that's nothing but a supporting cast, and it is succeeding. It could just be a fluke, or maybe they've stumbled across a while new way of building a team. Who knows where that's going to go, but it certainly sounds more interesting than the baseball situation.
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Friday, March 2, 2018
Keep Listening
Like a lot of Canadians my age, I have fond memories of Muchmusic. Not just silly, embarrassed memories, but some genuine appreciation. Although it could be juvenile and amateur, they offered a wider variety of music than any radio station, and so cultivated a more mature appreciation of music that we would otherwise have had. Also, their many genre-based shows allowed young music fans a deeper dive into their favourite music than you could get anywhere else at the time.
As a young proto-hipster, I especially enjoyed their alternative music show, The Wedge, and its predecessor, City Limits. They introduced me to musical possibilities a kid in small-town Ontario would never have had a chance to be exposed to, some of which would become life-long favorites.
But like I say, it wasn't perfect, and I think it's time for a reckoning of some of Muchmusic's crimes. For instance, they sometimes gave musicians a poor introduction. I'm still kind of ticked that I didn't get into The Smiths until years later because Much convinced me they had nothing more to offer than "Girlfriend in a Coma." Is not a bad song, but not the catchiest in their catalogue, and surely not the one you would use to introduce people to the band.
But that sort of thing tended to happen: they'd arbitrarily overplay one song in a bands ouvre, denying viewers the chance to get a better idea of their music. To be fair, they were limited by the fact that is a video channel, and have a mandate to choose good videos. But I suspected that we were also at the mercy of taste-makers behind the scenes, and if someone at the station had a thing for a particular song, then we were just kind of stuck with it.
Which brings me to fellow Mancurians, The Fall. The only song of theirs that I ever recall appearing on Muchmusic was "Eat Y'self Fitter," which I thought was one of the worst songs I'd ever heard. So for years, I had a very negative view of them.
Occasionally, I'd see The Fall mentioned alongside legends of the Manchester Scene, which would confuse me, having written them off as talentless weirdos. Eventually, though, between Internet radio and YouTube, I got to hear some of their other songs, and was surprised to find that they were much better.
After the recent death of The Fall's singer-songwriter Mark E. Smith, there were more accolades for the band, so I checked out some more of their songs on YouTube, and again, they fit into a fun, creative flavor of post-punk that I appreciated. After a few songs, I noticed that "Eat Y'self Fitter" appeared in the list of suggested videos, so I tapped on it to see if it was really as bad as I remembered.
Indeed it was. I'd describe it as the musical equivalent of one of those terrible Saturday Night Live sketches where they repeat the same joke over and over, and it's not just unfunny, you're not even sure why it was supposed to be funny. So I Googled the song to see if I was the only one that had the same reaction, and I was shocked to find that it is one of the all time favorites of British uber-DJ John Peel.
So I guess the lesson here is that not everyone's tastes line up. And never judge a musician by one song.
As a young proto-hipster, I especially enjoyed their alternative music show, The Wedge, and its predecessor, City Limits. They introduced me to musical possibilities a kid in small-town Ontario would never have had a chance to be exposed to, some of which would become life-long favorites.
But like I say, it wasn't perfect, and I think it's time for a reckoning of some of Muchmusic's crimes. For instance, they sometimes gave musicians a poor introduction. I'm still kind of ticked that I didn't get into The Smiths until years later because Much convinced me they had nothing more to offer than "Girlfriend in a Coma." Is not a bad song, but not the catchiest in their catalogue, and surely not the one you would use to introduce people to the band.
But that sort of thing tended to happen: they'd arbitrarily overplay one song in a bands ouvre, denying viewers the chance to get a better idea of their music. To be fair, they were limited by the fact that is a video channel, and have a mandate to choose good videos. But I suspected that we were also at the mercy of taste-makers behind the scenes, and if someone at the station had a thing for a particular song, then we were just kind of stuck with it.
Which brings me to fellow Mancurians, The Fall. The only song of theirs that I ever recall appearing on Muchmusic was "Eat Y'self Fitter," which I thought was one of the worst songs I'd ever heard. So for years, I had a very negative view of them.
Occasionally, I'd see The Fall mentioned alongside legends of the Manchester Scene, which would confuse me, having written them off as talentless weirdos. Eventually, though, between Internet radio and YouTube, I got to hear some of their other songs, and was surprised to find that they were much better.
After the recent death of The Fall's singer-songwriter Mark E. Smith, there were more accolades for the band, so I checked out some more of their songs on YouTube, and again, they fit into a fun, creative flavor of post-punk that I appreciated. After a few songs, I noticed that "Eat Y'self Fitter" appeared in the list of suggested videos, so I tapped on it to see if it was really as bad as I remembered.
Indeed it was. I'd describe it as the musical equivalent of one of those terrible Saturday Night Live sketches where they repeat the same joke over and over, and it's not just unfunny, you're not even sure why it was supposed to be funny. So I Googled the song to see if I was the only one that had the same reaction, and I was shocked to find that it is one of the all time favorites of British uber-DJ John Peel.
So I guess the lesson here is that not everyone's tastes line up. And never judge a musician by one song.
Tuesday, February 27, 2018
Nevermore
I recently saw a trivia question asking what a group of ravens is called. You may already know that a group of crows is a "murder," which is one of the most famous of the oddball animal group names. But I hadn't heard of a group of ravens before, so I had to look it up. It turns out that a group of ravens is an "unkindness," or a "conspiracy." That's certainly better than my deduction that it's a "manslaughter" of ravens.
What's interesting is that my Google search also turned up this article from the Audubon Society, arguing that it is, in fact, a "group" of crows, ravens, and whatever, since that's what people actually call them. As a birder, he's never used or heard any of the obscure group names, so you can't really say that a group of ravens is called an unkindness, since people in real life call it "a group of ravens." At most, you're just saying that people centuries ago called it by the obscure word. He goes further and asks experts on various animals if they've ever used or heard the group names, and not one had.
Most interestingly, the wombat expert pointed out that wombats don't get into groups, thus begging the question of how anyone devised that they should be a "wisdom" of wombats. I would further point out that although these group names come from the middle ages, no English-speaker set eyes on a wombat until centuries later. So someone out there is just arbitrarily coming up with more of these names, and now has slipped up by including animals that don't group together.
But back to the original idea that these names aren't real. I hadn't really thought about it before, but he's got a point. I mean, here I am, a trivia fan, and yet I've never found the groups of animals interesting, or made much headway in remembering them. I guess that's why; trivia isn't just random info, it has to have at least some importance to be interesting, say, by linking to some other facts. I can remember that the Baltimore Ravens football club is named after the poem because it was written by local boy Edgar Allan Poe. But I'm never going to remember an unkindness of Ravens, even after writing this blog entry about it.
On a similar note, can we lay off the phobia name trivia? I hate it when people ask, "What is 'flentaphobia' a fear of?" I think what you mean is, theoretically, what would it be a fear of if it actually existed. Yes, that's what it theoretically would be called, but just because you can put some Latin roots together, doesn't mean it's an actual thing. I could just say that I have inaniaephobia, the fear of inanity.
What's interesting is that my Google search also turned up this article from the Audubon Society, arguing that it is, in fact, a "group" of crows, ravens, and whatever, since that's what people actually call them. As a birder, he's never used or heard any of the obscure group names, so you can't really say that a group of ravens is called an unkindness, since people in real life call it "a group of ravens." At most, you're just saying that people centuries ago called it by the obscure word. He goes further and asks experts on various animals if they've ever used or heard the group names, and not one had.
Most interestingly, the wombat expert pointed out that wombats don't get into groups, thus begging the question of how anyone devised that they should be a "wisdom" of wombats. I would further point out that although these group names come from the middle ages, no English-speaker set eyes on a wombat until centuries later. So someone out there is just arbitrarily coming up with more of these names, and now has slipped up by including animals that don't group together.
But back to the original idea that these names aren't real. I hadn't really thought about it before, but he's got a point. I mean, here I am, a trivia fan, and yet I've never found the groups of animals interesting, or made much headway in remembering them. I guess that's why; trivia isn't just random info, it has to have at least some importance to be interesting, say, by linking to some other facts. I can remember that the Baltimore Ravens football club is named after the poem because it was written by local boy Edgar Allan Poe. But I'm never going to remember an unkindness of Ravens, even after writing this blog entry about it.
On a similar note, can we lay off the phobia name trivia? I hate it when people ask, "What is 'flentaphobia' a fear of?" I think what you mean is, theoretically, what would it be a fear of if it actually existed. Yes, that's what it theoretically would be called, but just because you can put some Latin roots together, doesn't mean it's an actual thing. I could just say that I have inaniaephobia, the fear of inanity.
Sunday, February 25, 2018
Things The Teenage Me Would Never Have Believed About Life In The Future, #39
You'll see Moe Berg of The Pursuit of Happiness perform "I'm an Adult Now" on TV at age 58.
Sunday, February 11, 2018
Das Boo
It's an occasional custom in hockey for fans to boo a hated player whenever he touches the puck. There are numerous reasons why this can happen. Usually it's because the target has committed some sort of dirty play against a member of the home team.
But often, the booing has a mob-mentality to it that waters down its meaning. Years ago, Toronto Maple Leafs captain Mats Sundin was suspended for throwing a stick into the stands. Later, Ottawa captain Daniel Alfredsson broke his stick mid-play, and jokingly mimed throwing it into the stands. Leaf fans took offense, and gave Alfredsson the booing treatment for years to come. For one thing, the original act wasn't really offensive. But also, hockey is a sport where grave injustices are often left to stand, and booing is the only recourse for fans. It's depressing to think that the punishment given to an unstable cheap-shot artist is the same one given to a guy who did a mildly insulting joke.
Even more unfair is when the crowd turns on a member of the home team. One of the most embarrassing experiences I've had as a sports fan was when the Leafs "fans" decided veteran defenceman Larry Murphy was so personally responsible for the team's woes that they began booing him every time he touched the puck. It was one of the great justices of the game that he was traded to Detroit just in time to win a couple of Stanley Cups.
And this week, the Leaf faithful extended the booing treatment to Nashville's star defenceman PK Subban. Of course, that was a little awkward, booing a guy who's not known for dirty play, and happens to be the only black guy on the ice. To be fair, there's never been a clear, irrefutable explanation for why many people don't like Subban. He may be a different race than most hockey players, but he also differs in other ways: he's a very outgoing individual in a sport that usually values people who fit in. In the past, I've argued that is actually an interaction between the two causes: people cast an especially critical eye towards him because he's of a different race.
So was there an element of racism in the fans' booing? We can't say definitively, so instead, I'd like to look at a different question, which may also say some disturbing things about the sport's culture. I may think there is a racial component to the hockey culture's treatment of Subban, but for the sake of argument, let's say I'm wrong. Let's say this is nothing to do with race. That still leaves the question: why do so many people in hockey hate PK Subban?
Like I said, he's not known for dirty play. He also seems quite friendly in interviews, and is famous for being very charitable. So the only way left to explain it is his personality. Or more specifically, we're talking about the way he expresses it. The hockey world is okay with players like Brent Burns, who are eccentric in ways that fit the hockey culture better, with beards and good-natured oafishness. But charismatic fashionistas are not welcome.
This could be a problem for the sport in the future. For all its dominance in Canada, you can see that the powers that be in hockey are worried, given how many ad campaigns are trying to encourage kids and their patents to get into the sport.
If Subban's treatment is racist, that's bad news for these recruitment drives. We're talking about a sport that's hugely white, in a country that's becoming less so. It's clear that hockey's long-term health requires getting more diverse. But if Subban's treatment is not racist, that may be less bad morally, but it would actually be worse for the sport. If kids don't perceive the rejection as being about colour, they'll see it as being about personality. The lesson will be that if you want to be your own person, then you're not welcome here. To generations that will grow up with more and more avenues of self expression, we'll be selling a sport where your individuality may only be expressed through degrees of aggression.
But often, the booing has a mob-mentality to it that waters down its meaning. Years ago, Toronto Maple Leafs captain Mats Sundin was suspended for throwing a stick into the stands. Later, Ottawa captain Daniel Alfredsson broke his stick mid-play, and jokingly mimed throwing it into the stands. Leaf fans took offense, and gave Alfredsson the booing treatment for years to come. For one thing, the original act wasn't really offensive. But also, hockey is a sport where grave injustices are often left to stand, and booing is the only recourse for fans. It's depressing to think that the punishment given to an unstable cheap-shot artist is the same one given to a guy who did a mildly insulting joke.
Even more unfair is when the crowd turns on a member of the home team. One of the most embarrassing experiences I've had as a sports fan was when the Leafs "fans" decided veteran defenceman Larry Murphy was so personally responsible for the team's woes that they began booing him every time he touched the puck. It was one of the great justices of the game that he was traded to Detroit just in time to win a couple of Stanley Cups.
And this week, the Leaf faithful extended the booing treatment to Nashville's star defenceman PK Subban. Of course, that was a little awkward, booing a guy who's not known for dirty play, and happens to be the only black guy on the ice. To be fair, there's never been a clear, irrefutable explanation for why many people don't like Subban. He may be a different race than most hockey players, but he also differs in other ways: he's a very outgoing individual in a sport that usually values people who fit in. In the past, I've argued that is actually an interaction between the two causes: people cast an especially critical eye towards him because he's of a different race.
So was there an element of racism in the fans' booing? We can't say definitively, so instead, I'd like to look at a different question, which may also say some disturbing things about the sport's culture. I may think there is a racial component to the hockey culture's treatment of Subban, but for the sake of argument, let's say I'm wrong. Let's say this is nothing to do with race. That still leaves the question: why do so many people in hockey hate PK Subban?
Like I said, he's not known for dirty play. He also seems quite friendly in interviews, and is famous for being very charitable. So the only way left to explain it is his personality. Or more specifically, we're talking about the way he expresses it. The hockey world is okay with players like Brent Burns, who are eccentric in ways that fit the hockey culture better, with beards and good-natured oafishness. But charismatic fashionistas are not welcome.
This could be a problem for the sport in the future. For all its dominance in Canada, you can see that the powers that be in hockey are worried, given how many ad campaigns are trying to encourage kids and their patents to get into the sport.
If Subban's treatment is racist, that's bad news for these recruitment drives. We're talking about a sport that's hugely white, in a country that's becoming less so. It's clear that hockey's long-term health requires getting more diverse. But if Subban's treatment is not racist, that may be less bad morally, but it would actually be worse for the sport. If kids don't perceive the rejection as being about colour, they'll see it as being about personality. The lesson will be that if you want to be your own person, then you're not welcome here. To generations that will grow up with more and more avenues of self expression, we'll be selling a sport where your individuality may only be expressed through degrees of aggression.
Thursday, February 8, 2018
With The Price Cut, It's Less Frivolous
Yesterday, I strolled through The Bay. Do people still call it that? The store wants to be called "Hudson's Bay," so I don't know if any normal people call it that. Anyway, I often do this, even though I never buy anything. I guess I find it relaxing; I can go through looking without pressure, knowing I probably won't find anything tempting enough to force a difficult decision.
I can't remember the last time I bought something there. For one thing, the prices are pretty high. I find that when they have a sale, all it does is reduce the prices down to what would sound like a good starting price.
And then there's the brands. I think I've made clear that I don't really understand rich-people brands. Surely buying explicitly expensive stuff makes you look desperate. Buying a brand that everyone knows is associated with wealth? That's something poor people would do. So it doesn't make sense for them to exist. But apparently, lots of people will pay big bucks for Ralph Lauren, game theory be damned.
But on this day, I did find a shirt which met all the criteria I was looking for:
So I took it off the last-chance clearance rack and headed for the fitting rooms.
And they were locked, with no one in sight. Of course, there's no bell like there was at Sears. I wondered around for a bit looking for an employee, but couldn't find one. In retrospect, I suppose I could have just gone back to the cosmetics department at the entrance; there's always plenty of people waiting there to pounce. But of course, that would have been futile. One of the many perks of masculinity is being invisible to them.
So in the end, I gave up and went home, with my never-buying-anything-at-the-Bay streak intact. But on my way out of the store, I happened to notice another shirt on a sale rack, which I took a photo of for posterity:
I'm sure I've seen that pattern before somewhere. Now where could it be?
Not cool, Hudson's Bay. My generation doesn't have much, don't commoditize our touchstones. I should have gone to the women's section to see if they were selling the anarchist cheerleader outfits from the video.
Hey, does this count as cultural appropriation? Excuse me while I call some human rights lawyers.
I can't remember the last time I bought something there. For one thing, the prices are pretty high. I find that when they have a sale, all it does is reduce the prices down to what would sound like a good starting price.
And then there's the brands. I think I've made clear that I don't really understand rich-people brands. Surely buying explicitly expensive stuff makes you look desperate. Buying a brand that everyone knows is associated with wealth? That's something poor people would do. So it doesn't make sense for them to exist. But apparently, lots of people will pay big bucks for Ralph Lauren, game theory be damned.
But on this day, I did find a shirt which met all the criteria I was looking for:
- reasonable price
- looked good
- non-bourgeois brand
- doesn't make me look retired
So I took it off the last-chance clearance rack and headed for the fitting rooms.
And they were locked, with no one in sight. Of course, there's no bell like there was at Sears. I wondered around for a bit looking for an employee, but couldn't find one. In retrospect, I suppose I could have just gone back to the cosmetics department at the entrance; there's always plenty of people waiting there to pounce. But of course, that would have been futile. One of the many perks of masculinity is being invisible to them.
So in the end, I gave up and went home, with my never-buying-anything-at-the-Bay streak intact. But on my way out of the store, I happened to notice another shirt on a sale rack, which I took a photo of for posterity:
I'm sure I've seen that pattern before somewhere. Now where could it be?
Hey, does this count as cultural appropriation? Excuse me while I call some human rights lawyers.
Monday, February 5, 2018
This Post Might Be A Tide Ad
After the Superbowl is over, you can tell how good a game it was by how much talk is about the game and how much is about the commercials. This year it was a great game, so there's relatively little talk about the ads, but here's a few thoughts.
First, can we declare a moratorium on meta ads? They can be funny, But enough already. Let's admit that Tide made the ultimate meta ads this year with their ads disguised as other ads, and leave it at that. I hope all the other advertisers appreciated what that did for them, forcing viewers to pay attention to each new commercial for a surprise switch.
But I was also surprised by the Very Serious commercials. For instance Budweiser highlighted their supplying of water to disaster-afflicted areas. They demonstrated this by showing some engineer flip a switch causing the machinery to go from producing cans of Bud to cans of water. I had trouble hearing the rest of the commercial over the sound of everyone in Canada making "what's the difference" jokes, but I saw them list the various places they've provided water. I was pleased to see they included Puerto Rico, despite it being an embarrassing point for the current administration. Now if they'd also included Flint, I'd have gone right out and bought a case just for that.
The biggest fumble had to go to Dodge Trucks - oh, I'm sorry, "Ram" - who set their ad to a recording of a Martin Luther King speech on the importance of service. How could they possibly think that was going to work out for them? Did they somehow find that the demographics of their market happen to line up with the people who look up to King, but wouldn't find it tacky for a corportion to co-opt his image?
There was a similar problem with an ad for Hyundai, bragging about donating a portion of sales to cancer charities. It was a hold-nothing-back heartstring-tugger, but it really felt awkward. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they are donating money to a good cause, though I am troubled by the fact that they just paid $5 million to tell us that they give to charity. But besides that, it seemed almost as tone-deaf as the Ram ad. In both cases, they didn't understand that as a corporation, there's going to be a certain cynicism inherent in the audience, and they have to respect that. It's okay to show your company doing good things, and even congratulate yourself a little for it. But when you go into full tearjerker mode, no one's buying the idea that you're that idealistic.
First, can we declare a moratorium on meta ads? They can be funny, But enough already. Let's admit that Tide made the ultimate meta ads this year with their ads disguised as other ads, and leave it at that. I hope all the other advertisers appreciated what that did for them, forcing viewers to pay attention to each new commercial for a surprise switch.
But I was also surprised by the Very Serious commercials. For instance Budweiser highlighted their supplying of water to disaster-afflicted areas. They demonstrated this by showing some engineer flip a switch causing the machinery to go from producing cans of Bud to cans of water. I had trouble hearing the rest of the commercial over the sound of everyone in Canada making "what's the difference" jokes, but I saw them list the various places they've provided water. I was pleased to see they included Puerto Rico, despite it being an embarrassing point for the current administration. Now if they'd also included Flint, I'd have gone right out and bought a case just for that.
The biggest fumble had to go to Dodge Trucks - oh, I'm sorry, "Ram" - who set their ad to a recording of a Martin Luther King speech on the importance of service. How could they possibly think that was going to work out for them? Did they somehow find that the demographics of their market happen to line up with the people who look up to King, but wouldn't find it tacky for a corportion to co-opt his image?
There was a similar problem with an ad for Hyundai, bragging about donating a portion of sales to cancer charities. It was a hold-nothing-back heartstring-tugger, but it really felt awkward. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they are donating money to a good cause, though I am troubled by the fact that they just paid $5 million to tell us that they give to charity. But besides that, it seemed almost as tone-deaf as the Ram ad. In both cases, they didn't understand that as a corporation, there's going to be a certain cynicism inherent in the audience, and they have to respect that. It's okay to show your company doing good things, and even congratulate yourself a little for it. But when you go into full tearjerker mode, no one's buying the idea that you're that idealistic.
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