On June 12, 2009, the New York Mets and New York Yankees faced off in a baseball game.
The teams had played each other plenty over the years. But this was the first matchup in the Yankees’ new home ballpark.
Plenty of mayhem ensued. Home runs, bases loaded walks, and lead changes aplenty.
But as the 9th inning approached, the Mets held an 8-7 lead. As their closer took the mound, things looked bleak for the Yankees.
The home side did manage to get two runners on base, but they also made two outs. Their final hope for salvation was struggling superstar Alex Rodriguez.
Rodriguez took a mighty swing — and popped the ball high up in the air. He slammed his bat down in frustration as Mets second baseman Luis Castillo – an elite defender – drifted toward the edge of the outfield grass.
As Castillo waited for the ball to come out of the sky, everyone in the stadium thought the same thing.
This game is over. The Mets have won it.
But then, a strange thing happened. Castillo dropped the ball. Flustered, he threw the ball toward second base – even though both baserunners were already rounding third base. Another infielder quickly shuttled the ball to home plate, but it was too late.
Both runners scored. The Yankees won.
As the home fans roared, one thing was evident.
The sure thing wasn’t that sure at all.
In the years since Castillo’s infamous flub, three trends have enveloped sports.
First, advanced analytics have entered the field. Everything from the angle of Rodriguez’s pop up to the speed of Castillo’s frantic throw to second base would be tracked in the modern day.
Second, wagering has gone from taboo to mainstream. Fans don’t need to travel to a Las Vegas sportsbook to post a legal bet on sports action anymore. These days, they can even wager on little slices of a game – such as a single at-bat.
Add those two trends together, and you find the third trend. Sports broadcasters now track Win Probability within games. Indeed, there are graphs throughout the action showing the likelihood that one team will go on to win the game. Those graphs fluctuate due to factors like time remaining, score, and situational elements (runners on base, field position, penalties, and so on).
If that Mets-Yankees matchup took place 15 years later than it did, the Mets would likely have held a 97% Win Probability when Rodriguez strode to the plate. Yes, the Yankees had the tying and winning runs on base, but they only had one out left to work with. The chances of making that one opportunity count were slim.
The Mets’ Win Probability would have dropped a bit — perhaps to 95% — by the time Rodriguez took his fateful swing. He was in a favorable batting count at that point, with the Mets pitcher virtually assured of dealing him something hittable.
But as soon as the ball went into the air, and Rodriguez’s bat slammed to the ground, the Mets’ Win Probability would have spiked back to 99%. Even the analytics would have agreed the game was in the bag for them.
And yet, the 1% chance of failure became reality. The Yankees would have literally defied the odds.
This type of narrative happens frequently now. If a basketball team overcomes a 20-point deficit in the fourth quarter, or a football team wins a game they trailed by 17 points in the second half, pundits will cite Win Probabilities to show how unlikely the comeback was. The word miracle — once reserved for a famous Olympic hockey match — is now a commonplace sports descriptor.
But it’s a misnomer. In sports and in life more generally.
Several years ago, I attended an all-company meeting on the Tuesday before Thanksgiving.
It was several months after the COVID pandemic had broken out, so the meeting was held via videoconference. Unease was in the air due to the impending holiday devoid of its usual large gatherings.
The meeting started as they always did – with the head of our company reading out the organization’s mission statement.
But the next slide contained a bombshell. The company was getting acquired.
The Chief Executive Officer of the acquiring company then joined the meeting to explain the situation further. He made sure to mention that while the deal hadn’t formally closed, it would take “a meteor hitting the earth for it to not happen.”
As I took in the news, I couldn’t get past that statement.
What a stupid thing to say, I thought. There’s no certainty until the final papers are signed.
I would know.
Over the years, I’d seen my fair share of sure things fall through. I’d been stood up on dates, rejected from job opportunities after final round interviews, and seen family outings get canceled. I knew better than to consider anything the real deal before it came true.
Pen did eventually meet paper, and the deal went through. But it did nothing to quell my unease.
For this was but one example of preemptive certainty of outcomes. Indeed, our society seems fixated on calling the race before the first contestant crosses the finish line.
In some ways, this trend was inevitable. Americans have never been known for patience, and the smartphone era has vanquished the last frontier of our restraint.
But that doesn’t make it right.
For life can be cruel and irrational. Even if we’re a foot from the front gate with a 30 mile per hour wind at our back, there’s still a chance for nature to bar us entry.
That’s just the way of the world. And we need to come to terms with it.
Numbers are the universal language.
I can’t recall who imparted this wisdom on me. But I’ve never forgotten the advice itself.
So much of our lives remains up for interpretation. What we see. What we say. What we write. It can vary from culture to culture, or region to region.
But the rules of numbers are finite. 1 + 1 will always equal 2. And a 95% chance is better than a 5% one.
It’s time we reacquaint ourselves with this practice. That we stop equating a 98% chance with a 100% one. That we stop proclaiming false certainty of outcomes.
Sure, this might take the wind out of our sails a bit. And yes, it will make the journey seem a bit nervier.
But we’ll spare ourselves the egg on our face if we save the celebration for the destination. We’ll find the security we seek, and we’ll become less vulnerable to last second plot twists.
It’s a high reward, low-cost proposition.
Let’s make it a reality.