In four parts:
• Why Rebecca Lobo and Nancy Wilson Were Wise to Marry Journalists
• Teaching chess and basketball as metaphors for each other
• Jayne Appel fanboy squealing
• Stats geekery: How reliable is the Rebound Rate metric?
There's a new book out there:
I Hate Myself and Want to Die: The 50 Most Depressing Songs of All Time, which includes several of my all-time favorites, like Goodbye to Love by the Carpenters, People Who Died by the Jim Carroll Band, and Without You by many.
Not only is "Without You" a woeful tale of a failed relationship, it's made sadder by the stories of the suicided Badfinger leaders who wrote it, and the bankruptcy-fueled demise of Harry Nilsson, who made it a no. 1 hit. Saddest of all, said the writer, is that the people who made the song great suffered bad fates, while Mariah Carey and Air Supply, who butchered the song, got off with karmic slaps on the wrists.
After Nilsson, the next artist I knew to cover "Without You" was the band Heart on their 1978 album "Magazine". Before Sue Bird and Lauren Jackson, and Seattle Pacific's three-point shooter Lynne Roberts (who went on to coaching excellence at the University of the Pacific), rising from the Northwest were Heart's leaders Ann and Nancy Wilson. Nancy Wilson is one of the most desirable women ever for rocking hard and rocking well, for strongly surviving the worst kind of romantic relationship (with a bandmate), for being a killer babe, and for being intelligent and foresightful enough to marry a geek journalist. If every marriage eventually and unfailingly comes down to having something to talk about, then a career woman seems to be doing well by choosing some guy with lots of stories to tell, and who writes about what the woman does for work. Nancy Wilson and Cameron Crowe, still married. Rebecca Lobo and Steve Rushin, still married.
***
The Weibel Elementary girls' basketball team attended the South Carolina at Stanford game Monday night, plus at least one of the boys from the
nationally-recognized Weibel chess team.
Since I have dropped from 100 students and 20 hours teaching per week to two students and six hours per month, I'm leaping at any chance I get to talk to students, even if I have to chase them through basketball arenas.
"Hey! Do you remember me?" That kid had better know me. I once gave his class the lesson about how backward attacking moves are the hardest to find on the chessboard, while MVP Steve Nash makes them regularly on the basketball court (I gave that lesson in the gym, running from basket to demonstration board). "C'mere. Sit down." I put the kid right beside his basketball coach.
"What's the first thing -- the most important thing -- that your basketball coach tells you!?" I said. (Coaches have very little to say, but if players do those few things, they *will* improve.)
"Teamwork," said the kid.
"Good! OK, who's your chess coach at Weibel?"
"Micah," the kid said. Micah Fisher-Kirshner is an ex-state high school champion. We played for the same coach.
"What's the most important thing that he tells you to do at chess!" Admittedly, the analogies I was hoping to make were probably not going to come together. Teamwork on the floor can be analogized as piece coordination on the board, but while little kids can coordinate the pieces, the concept might be out of reach. (The two things I tell kids endlessly are "make threatening moves!"/"attack the ball!" and "bring up new force!"/"move!".)
"I don't know," said the kid.
"You don't know!? Then what are you trying to do at the board? What does Coach tell you to do?"
"I don't remember.... sit down?" This could very easily be true, and if Micah is mostly telling this kid to sit down, he's got a long way to go before becoming a chessplayer.
"When your pieces coordinate... when your pieces work together... what's that?"
"Teamwork," said the kid.
"Very good!!" I said.
Someday I'm going to have a group of chess students who like basketball well enough so that I can teach the whole class through basketball/chess metaphor. The winning side attacks. The winning side defends by attacking. The winning side puts everyone in motion. The winning side is quick, but does not hurry. The winning side sees the whole board. The winning side understands that the losers must be faked left before they can go right -- the essence of basketball, said Hall of Fame writer Koppett, is deception. Excellence at chess, said Sherlock Holmes, is the mark of a scheming, deceptive mind. All warfare, said Sun Tzu, is based on deception. Basketball and chess, you must understand, are so much alike, and that is precisely why I love them as one.
***
I was hoping South Carolina of the Atlantic Coast Conference would put up a fight Monday, because I don't like the thought that Stanford has little difficulty until tournament time. My other thought was which of Stanford's three towers would be most towering.
It was Brooke Smith, whose 14-for-17 shooting performance had the undesired effect of making 2,700 people sick of the public address call "Brooke with the hook!".
I make peculiar datagathering tasks for myself at Maples Pavilion, since they make me sit in the bleachers in the dark. I thought I would record the number of assists Jayne Appel would've made if every shot went in -- because I am enchanted by Appel's passing ability from the low post.
Marvelously, two of Appel's assists resulted from her rumbling down the court while directing the fast break and dishing on the open floor (forget that Charles Barkley is now a Ringling Brothers clown; he used to be a great, wide basketball player who could pull a defensive rebound, and drive the fast break himself -- Appel leading two fast breaks evoked Barkley in his prime).
At 13:11 of the second half, Appel blocked a shot 15 feet into the air, knowing before anyone else where the ball was coming down. While Candice Wiggins released from the backcourt, Appel caught the loose ball on the run, beat everyone down the floor with her dribble!, and fed Wiggins for a layup with a bounce pass.
At 10:22, Appel made a steal to trigger another break, split two defenders with her dribble, and found Wiggins again for the basket.
Appel plays reserve minutes because she's a freshman, yet she led Stanford in steals and blocked shots, tied for the team lead in rebounds, and was third in assists; the reason Appel was in my newspaper daily -- even though her high school was two counties away on the other side of the bay -- is that she's fantastic.
Those two assists in the open floor more than made up for the two passes she made from the low post that could've led to assists, but did not.
***
I also found myself recording the number of available rebounds while Appel was in the game. How exact is the Rebound Rate statistic, which measures a player's percentage of rebounds from available misses?
The formula for Rebound Rate is [(Rebounds * Team minutes) / (Player Minutes * (Team rebounds + Opponents' rebounds))] / 5.
During Appel's 19 minutes, 42 rebounds were available, of which the freshman grabbed seven, or 16.7 percent.
Using the Rebound Rate formula, we get [(7 rebounds * 200 team mins.) / (19 minutes * (47 team rebounds + 36 opponents' rebounds))] / 5, or 17.8 percent.
The difference stems from the Rebound Rate formula making an estimate of the number of rebounds available, while in Appel's case, we knew exactly how many rebounds were available. Suppose we adjusted the formula so that it only accounted for Appel's time on the floor:
[(7 rebounds * 95 team mins.) / (19 minutes * (42 rebounds))] / 5, and that gives us the true 16.7 percent.
Does this mean that Rebound Rate is more reliable for players who play more minutes? Yes, because the estimated number of rebounds available is likelier to be closer to the truth in a larger sample of minutes and rebounds.
Look at Santa Clara's Maggie Goldenberger on Sunday against St. Mary's. The freshman forward played the last two minutes of the game, and collected one rebound. Five rebounds were available, so Goldenberger's true rebounding percentage was 20.
According to the RR formula: [(1 rebound * 200 team mins.) / (2 minutes * (34 team rebounds + 34 opponents' rebounds))] / 5, or 29.4 percent.
Far fewer rebounds were available per minute in the 38 minutes that Goldenberger didn't play. The Rebound Rate formula greatly favored the player whose two minutes presented five rebounds. Suppose there were only three rebounds available in Goldenberger's two minutes -- then the RR formula works against her. Her true rebound rate would have been 33%, but the formula would've credited her with 30%.