Rough week for the local nine. Just when it seemed like the Twins were doomed to face a sweep at the hands of the Phightin’ Phils, Joe Mauer hit a clutch, game-tying home run in the ninth inning, Jim Thome and Drew Butera each went deep in pinch hit at bats, and the Twins rallied for a dramatic win Saturday in Philadelphia. Carl Pavano followed that up with perhaps his best performance as a Twin, and the Twins unexpectedly took two of three in Philly . . . only to follow that up by dropping a total stink bomb in Milwaukee, getting swept by a team that seemingly has no interest in being relevant.
The frustration of the Milwaukee series was only compounded by the fact that the White Sox and Tigers continue to eat into a division lead that for most of the season has seemed safe. The Sox have won eleven straight to pull within two games, and the Tigers are 7-3 over their last ten to have closed the gap to a half game. This has led some to act as if the sky is falling over Target Field. Fans, take a deep breath, crack open a beer, smile, chill out, and/or just relax. There is no reason to panic (at least as far as the division is concerned).
There’s a simple reason not to worry that the Twins are in any danger of actually losing control of the division: run differential. A closer look at the standings shows that, while the Twins have outscored their opponents by 46 runs this year, the Tigers have outscored their opponents by only two, and the Sox, owners of that impressive eleven game win streak, have actually been outscored by their opponents by three runs. Obviously, a season is decided by wins and losses and not by run differential, but run differential can give a good clue as to how well a team can be expected to perform, and this much is clear: the Sox and Tiger records are well-above their expected performance.
Over at the indispensable baseball-reference.com, one can easily access a handy, under-used statistic called “Pythagorean Win/Loss,” which calculates “expected” winning percentage by virtue of run differential. I won’t bore you with the technicalities, but the idea is simple enough: by comparing the runs scored against total runs allowed and scored, one can estimate a team’s record. Generally, by season’s end, the Pythagorean W/L matches a team’s actual record pretty closely. Consider the Twins’, Tigers’, and Sox’s Pythagorean W/L records (or “expected records”):
Twins: 41-31 (40-32 actual)
Tigers: 36-35 (39-32 actual)
White Sox: 35-36 (37-34 actual)
These differences don’t look all that significant, but the point is to realize how far off the Tigers and Sox are already playing. A two-three game differential over 71 games is a 4.5-7 game differential over the course of a full season. The takeaway is that, if the teams keep scoring runs and allowing runs at roughly the rate they have been, it’s likely that the Sox and Tigers won’t be able to keep up their current winning percentage and will regress toward their expected winning percentage (about .500). The Twins, for their part, may increase their’s, albeit slightly. (Of course, they could increase it by a LOT if they make a trade for a certain record-pace pitcher.)
Expected W/L certainly isn’t perfect. The 2002 Twins are an example of an extreme outlier, finishing 8 games above their expected W/L (86-75 Expected/94-67 Actual). It’s probably worth considering, though, that the 2002 Twins were the squad that actually earned the franchise reputation for doing the little things right; perhaps this allowed them to steal an inordinate number of games with smart, scrappy play. That squad also played in an extremely weak division, which might have made it easier for them to outrun their expected win/loss for a full season. Because neither the Tigers nor the Sox are particularly adept at “the small things,” and given that the division is certainly stronger than, say, 2002, I wouldn’t bet on them to maintain their pace.
So, in sum, don’t panic. It’s a long season. The Twins really should be just fine.
(Oh, and please go get Cliff Lee. Thanks guys.)