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Authors: Tobias Moskowitz
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Shaughnessy
“Is there an insanity defense for football coaches?”
–Boston Herald
columnistRon Borges
“I hated the call. It smacked of ‘I’m-smarter-than-they-are’ hubris. This felt too cheap.”–Peter King, SI.com
“My vocabulary is not big enough to describe the insanity of this decision.”–former NFL quarterback and ESPN analystTrent Dilfer
“Fourth-and-jackass. That’s our name for a now-infamous play in New England Patriots’ history.”–Pete Prisco, CBSSports.com
“So what was more satisfying Sunday night, watching good guy Peyton Manning rally the Colts or bad guy Bill Belichick choke as a tactician?”–Jeff Gordon
, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Of course none of these criticisms mentioned that punting was statistically inferior or at best a close call relative to going for it. In fact, they claimed the opposite, that punting was the superior strategy. It wasn’t.
It wasn’t just that the Patriots had lost. It was that Belichick had dared to depart from the status quo. He was the geek with the pocket protector, and damn if it didn’t feel good when he was too smart for his own good. It had all the ring of the cool kids in school celebrating when the know-it-all flunked the test.
Unless blessed with clairvoyance, you make a decision before you know the outcome. The decision to go for it was the
right
decision. That it didn’t work out doesn’t change the soundness of the decision. Yet people seldom see it this way. They have what psychologists callhindsight bias. If you did the right thing but failed because of bad luck, you’re stupid. If you did the wrong thing but succeeded because of good fortune, you’re a genius. Of course, it’s often the opposite. If your buddy is playing blackjack at the card table and takes a hit (an extra card) when he has 19 and the dealer is showing 4, you should call him a moron. The statistics tell you to stick (decline a card) because the most probable event is that the dealer will bust (get more than 21) or have less than 19. If your buddy takes a card anyway and gets a 2, giving him 21, and wins, should he be hailed as a genius? No, he’s still a moron—just a lucky moron. The same holds for any decision we make in the face of uncertainty. Luck doesn’t make us smarter or dumber, only lucky or unlucky.
The very next week the Patriots hosted their division rivals, theNew York Jets, who had beaten the Pats a few weeks earlier. On their second drive, New England faced fourth down and one on the Jets’ 38-yard line. Despite the beating he’d taken in the media, among fans, and even from former Patriots players, Belichick again went for it, which is exactly what the numbers tell you to do. In the broadcast booth, the announcers were leery, already questioning the coach’s tactics, “especially after what happened the previous week!” they intoned. This time, however,Laurence Maroney, the Pats’ bruising running back, busted over the left tackle for two yards. First down. The announcers said little. Belichick was notpraised for this strategic success commensurately with how he’d been blasted the previous week.
Again, this is Bill Belichick. If the most secure coach in the league, whose cerebral analysis is thought to be unmatched, could be subjected to such a severe beating over a well-calculated risk, imagine how a rookie coach or a coach on the hot seat is going to be treated.
And it’s not just football coaches who face a difficult time departing from convention. In 1993,Tony La Russa was managing theOakland A’s and was dismayed as his team was last in the division. Pitching was particularly problematic. Oakland’s earned run average (ERA) had swollen to more than 5.00. After a particularly brutal weekend series during which the A’s gave up 32 runs, La Russa and his longtime pitching coach,Dave Duncan, asked themselves, “Who made the rule that teams need four starters who throw 100 or so pitches, followed by a middle reliever and a
“Is there an insanity defense for football coaches?”
–Boston Herald
columnistRon Borges
“I hated the call. It smacked of ‘I’m-smarter-than-they-are’ hubris. This felt too cheap.”–Peter King, SI.com
“My vocabulary is not big enough to describe the insanity of this decision.”–former NFL quarterback and ESPN analystTrent Dilfer
“Fourth-and-jackass. That’s our name for a now-infamous play in New England Patriots’ history.”–Pete Prisco, CBSSports.com
“So what was more satisfying Sunday night, watching good guy Peyton Manning rally the Colts or bad guy Bill Belichick choke as a tactician?”–Jeff Gordon
, St. Louis Post-Dispatch
Of course none of these criticisms mentioned that punting was statistically inferior or at best a close call relative to going for it. In fact, they claimed the opposite, that punting was the superior strategy. It wasn’t.
It wasn’t just that the Patriots had lost. It was that Belichick had dared to depart from the status quo. He was the geek with the pocket protector, and damn if it didn’t feel good when he was too smart for his own good. It had all the ring of the cool kids in school celebrating when the know-it-all flunked the test.
Unless blessed with clairvoyance, you make a decision before you know the outcome. The decision to go for it was the
right
decision. That it didn’t work out doesn’t change the soundness of the decision. Yet people seldom see it this way. They have what psychologists callhindsight bias. If you did the right thing but failed because of bad luck, you’re stupid. If you did the wrong thing but succeeded because of good fortune, you’re a genius. Of course, it’s often the opposite. If your buddy is playing blackjack at the card table and takes a hit (an extra card) when he has 19 and the dealer is showing 4, you should call him a moron. The statistics tell you to stick (decline a card) because the most probable event is that the dealer will bust (get more than 21) or have less than 19. If your buddy takes a card anyway and gets a 2, giving him 21, and wins, should he be hailed as a genius? No, he’s still a moron—just a lucky moron. The same holds for any decision we make in the face of uncertainty. Luck doesn’t make us smarter or dumber, only lucky or unlucky.
The very next week the Patriots hosted their division rivals, theNew York Jets, who had beaten the Pats a few weeks earlier. On their second drive, New England faced fourth down and one on the Jets’ 38-yard line. Despite the beating he’d taken in the media, among fans, and even from former Patriots players, Belichick again went for it, which is exactly what the numbers tell you to do. In the broadcast booth, the announcers were leery, already questioning the coach’s tactics, “especially after what happened the previous week!” they intoned. This time, however,Laurence Maroney, the Pats’ bruising running back, busted over the left tackle for two yards. First down. The announcers said little. Belichick was notpraised for this strategic success commensurately with how he’d been blasted the previous week.
Again, this is Bill Belichick. If the most secure coach in the league, whose cerebral analysis is thought to be unmatched, could be subjected to such a severe beating over a well-calculated risk, imagine how a rookie coach or a coach on the hot seat is going to be treated.
And it’s not just football coaches who face a difficult time departing from convention. In 1993,Tony La Russa was managing theOakland A’s and was dismayed as his team was last in the division. Pitching was particularly problematic. Oakland’s earned run average (ERA) had swollen to more than 5.00. After a particularly brutal weekend series during which the A’s gave up 32 runs, La Russa and his longtime pitching coach,Dave Duncan, asked themselves, “Who made the rule that teams need four starters who throw 100 or so pitches, followed by a middle reliever and a
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