Here are a select few to get you going:

This was the last picture I took in the country! Fitting, I suppose.

My adorable first cousin once removed, Sima.

My dad getting initiated into the Black Hat Gang.

The Dome of the Rock and the Western Wall.

The Al Aqsa mosque, third-holiest site in Islam.

A tourist spot at The Dead Sea.

Some people walking along the beach after sunset in Tel Aviv.

A yummy salad!! Look at all that feta.

A kite surfer on the beach in Tel Aviv.

The cliffs of Masada.

Hope that whetted your appetite. Now view the full set!

• It does not recognize how different types of hits (singles, triples, etc) contribute differently to a player’s value or team’s performance
• It counts at-bats and not plate appearances (and thus  pretends sac flies, walks, errors, hit-by-pitches, fielder’s choices, etc do not happen)
• Seemingly significant differences between averages (such as between .290 and .300) are, in reality, the difference of only a few hits

This post was inspired by a blog post that Joe Posnanski wrote about F.C. Lane, a baseball enthusiast in 1916, who argues how BA is useless. Here is Joe summarizing Lane’s four-punch syllogism:

Punch 1. Question: Is a scratch single with nobody on base worth as much as a grand slam?

Punch 2: Batting average says yes.

Punch 3: Phelon says batting average can’t be improved upon.

Punch 4: Phelon is saying that a scratch single with nobody on base is worth as much as a grand slam.

I understand where Joe/FC are going with this, and I agree that they are headed in the right direction, and I agree with their destination. My problem here is with the wording of punch (premise) 2.

Batting average does not ”say” that a bases-empty single is worth as much as a grand slam. Batting average is not a person with ideas and a mouth. It cannot say anything. It is a statistic, hits divided by at-bats, invented by humans about the performance of other humans. It describes how often a batter has hit safely.

These humans are the ones that say things. Many humans use batting average to do so. Therefore, it is people who cite BA as an important or relevant stat that are saying all types of hits are equal.

The full syllogism becomes: “Batting average does not measure the differences between types of hits. Many people feel that batting average is a useful indicator of a player’s performance. People who feel this way are arguing, indirectly, that all hits are worth the same, e.g. that a single is as important as a grand slam. However, all hits are not the same. Therefore, batting average is less useful than other stats in determining a player’s worth.”

Wordier, for sure, but more precise

It is impossible for a statistic to be flawed. It is only possible for a statistic to not measure what we want it to measure. Sometimes it takes decades before we figure out whether our statistics are useful — hence the current revolution underway in baseball.

When a statistic turns out to be not as useful as we’d though, the statistic can’t change. It’s just math based on a batter’s performance. Instead, we must change how (or whether) we use it to measure something. In that sense, a statistic can be not useful or irrelevant – but never flawed in and of itself.

I haven’t traveled internationally since returning from China in January of 2009. 12-hour plane rides and the enormous jet lag that follows are not my idea of a good time, but when my cousin invited me to her wedding in Jerusalem, I jumped at the chance to visit the holy land. (part of me wanted to capitalize that as Holy Land, but I didn’t. Hm. Should I have?) I am not a religious person, but I feel very culturally Jewish (this attitude, I’ve come to find out, is very common among Jews these days — at least those in my social circle) and I’d missed my chance to go to Israel for free with the Birthright organization (which provides free trips for 18-26 year olds). Also I would be turning 30 on December 21st, and my office essentially shuts down from Christmas to New Year’s, so a winter wedding would be the perfect trip to make.

Plans didn’t get settled down until September or so. I talked with my parents, who would also be going, to coordinate our schedules. It was agreed: we’d take advantage of cheaper airfare on Christmas to leave that morning, putting us on the ground on December 26th in Tel Aviv, where we’d made arrangements to take a taxi to Jerusalem (about an hour or so drive). My aunt knows several people in Israel; she lives in a very Jewish neighborhood in Maryland, and several of her neighbors have made aaliyah (which is what it’s called when a Jew from abroad chooses to settle in Israel). Through these connections we had access to both a taxi driver and a tour guide, both of whom we used extensively. It is so nice and pleasant to hit the ground in a foreign country knowing you have locals to guide you around.

My parents made plans with these folks and others, and it was settled. We’d visit the Old City of Jerusalem on the 27th. On the 28th, we’d visit Masada, the Dead Sea, and Qumran (where the Dead Sea Scrolls were found). The 29th was the wedding. (We ended up visiting the sprawling Israel Museum that morning, also.) Friday the 30th was a free day, but here’s the kicker: in Israel, many businesses close Friday at 2 PM in advance of Shabbat (which starts at sundown). This is especially true in a religious city like Jerusalem. So we weren’t entirely sure what was going on that day.

I did not want to go all the way to Israel just for five days, and I also wanted to see Tel Aviv, which had been described to me as a modern, hip, happening, fun city. So I made plans to travel to Tel Aviv on Saturday the 31st and stay there for a few days, leaving on January 4th. Which is exactly what I did. My parents and some other family tagged along, and we all made a big date of it.

Here are some quick observations in advance of the pictures:

Being Jewish

• It started at Newark airport at the departure gate for the Tel Aviv flight. I’d not seen so many Jews in one place in such a long time. Many people I could tell were Jewish just be looking at their faces. It is a stereotype, but the prominent (‘big’, if you wanna be a dick about it nose, full lips, and dark hair are features that many of us share. Of course there were many men wearing kipot, many with black hats and beards, many with payot (extra-long locks of hair on the sides of the head), many with tzitzit (fringes of prayer shawls) poking out from under their shirts, and women with headscarves. These people obviously were much easier to identify as Jews  In addition some of us just have a certain way of speaking that is recognizable to me.

  It felt … odd but comforting to be around so many people with a single purpose of going to Israel, ‘back home’. Many of the men davened (prayed) before the flight. This must have been their observance of the afternoon prayer service Mincha. Again, it was strange but also comforting to see this going on in an airport lounge. Since I am a Bar Mitzvah, I was able to help form the minyan (quorum) necessary for prayer. But I just stood there feeling awkward.

• It was strange but familiar seeing so much Hebrew in Israel. I am used to seeing, hearing, and speaking Hebrew only in a religious context while praying — not calling a cab or ordering two cups of coffee in a restaurant or remarking on the weather. Luckily for us, unlike China, good-quality English is prevalent among the Israeli rank-and-file.
• I learned Hebrew growing up as part of my religious education leading up to my Bar Mitzvah, but that was a long time ago, so my Hebrew is extremely rusty. But if you put some words in front of me, I can sound them out — so long as those words have the vowels in them. (Vowels in Hebrew are not separate characters but diacritical marks below the letters.)

  But everyday Hebrew in Israel, on signs and restaurant menus, doesn’t have any vowels. So I was unable to read most of the Hebrew I saw, leaving me feeling a little — just a little – ashamed and embarrassed. After all, this language is my heritage, even if I don’t use it to worship (or to ask where the bathroom is!), yet I can barely read it and certainly cannot understand it. I understand logically that I am not expected to know Hebrew. Not even my parents know a lot of it, and they are more religious than I am. But still.

• Similarly, it was strange and yet familiar, let’s say ‘oddly comforting’, to be surrounded by so many Jews. In America I am used to feeling like the oddball when I say things like “oh I’m visiting my parents for Rosh Hashanah” or whatever. Actually, above, when I talked about people praying at the departure gate, I am sure that the security guards were looking on with curiosity. (But maybe not, since I’m sure they are used to seeing that.)Many people in America have never met a Jewish person, or if they have, they haven’t seriously inquired into the Jewish faith or holidays or anything like that. They are concerned with their faith, meaning most often Christmas and Easter and so on. When you add to that all the stereotypes of Jews that I constantly hear, you are reminded daily that Jews are a minority, often a curiosity, in America. I have come to accept this feeling and even relish it a little bit, but it is there nonetheless.

  So obviously that’s not the case in Israel. You can assume that anyone you meet is Jewish. Now this doesn’t mean they are devout Torah scholars – in the same way that most of my friends in Austin are Christian but not Bible worshipers - but again these people are Jewish.  That realization immediately put me at ease. I felt like everyone was my friend because we had something in common. I’d be walking past people on the street, passing people, and just being like “He’s Jewish! She’s Jewish!” was a delightful feeling. Especially in Jerusalem, which has more religious overtones that Tel Aviv. But even there, I’d be talking to a cabbie and when they learned I was from America, they’d be like “I’m Jewish, are you?” Yes, yes I am. Haha. It was a nice feeling.

• Chanukah was everywhere. Tinsel menorahs attached to the streetlights (the way you see tinsel Christmas trees here), big light-up menorahs in plazas, stone menorahs at the entrances to buildings, bronze and silver menorahs displayed in window shops, “Chanukah! 50% off!” sale signs, sufganiyot in bakers’ window displays — you name it, there was a menorah attached to it. Contrast this with the obviously Christmas-centric nature of America, and you have, for me, an interesting experience.

Security

• There are armed military everywhere. They might not be on patrol (officially); it might be one IDF (Israel Defense Force) member walking to a bus station with their gear, but it was very common to see men and women with assault rifles walking down the street. Even at my cousin’s wedding they had to hire security; there was a kind of schlubby looking guy with an assault rifle or whatever just walking around. This is par for the course, I was told, at any gathering of Jews in Jerusalem. Perhaps less so in Tel Aviv, as I didn’t see very many military there. But I was assured they are around, many of them in plainclothes. When I was waiting at the airport I tried to play ‘spot the army’. Any thick-necked guy reading a newspaper or just chilling leaning against a railing by himself was a candidate!
• Along the same lines, many stores, shopping malls, tourist spots (like the Western Wall), and public street markets have metal detectors and security guards (not military) out in front. You can expect to have your bags searched a few times each day as you wander around — even if you just walk into The Gap! And there are outposts on the major highways leading to and from the cities, surrounding countries like Jordan, and especially the airport.

  The guards will be less uptight if you are white and maybe have a big Jewish nose, like me, but still you will be searched. This is called ‘racial profiling’ and it is a cornerstone of security in Israel, while if you tried it in America, you’d get crucified. I’m not commenting one way or the other — I just think the different tactics are interesting. I’m sure they don’t help Arabs feel any more dignified, though.

• Everybody warned me about airport security. Coming in, it was not so bad. At Newark Airport, there is a special, more secure gate for a flight to Israel. This is after you pass through regular security. When you get to this gate, they pat you down and wave a metal detector over you. Then your carry-on luggage is searched by hand. All this while your passport and boarding passes are scrutinized not once, but twice.When I went through immigration I was subjected to a quiz that was only a little more intense than what I got coming into China. ‘Where are you from, what is your purpose in Israel, what is your cousin’s name, where is the wedding’, etc.

  Leaving the country involved a more thorough exam. As you enter the airport, before you get to ticketing, you have to put your baggage through a scanner and get quizzed by a security officer. This guy went into much more detail ‘What were you doing here, where did you grow up, do you attend synagogue, in what congregation did you have your Bar Mitzvah’, etc. Then you get to ticketing, then you go through security, and then you go through immigration again (I guess at this point it’s actually ‘emigration’). At each point you’re subjected to more questioning before being let out in the main hall. It doesn’t take a lot of energy, but again, I think it’s interesting. And the security record of Ben-Gurion Airport speaks for itself.

The Charedi

The Charedi are a sect of ultra-Orthodox (meaning, extremely religious) Jews living in Israel (and abroad as well, but obviously concentrated in Israel). The name “Charedi” means “to tremble” (as in, in fear of God). That should give you an idea of how they think.

The social, political, and religious conflict with the Charedim is interesting to me. They devoutly follow scripture and one of their main sticking points is the separation of men and women. To give you an idea of the depth of these beliefs, there was a scandal some years ago when a Charedi newspaper printed a picture of the Israeli cabinet that included all male ministers. This might not have been a problem, except there are two female members who were changed to men in the picture! Ads aimed at Charedim will never show women. Women must dress modestly, long sleeves and dresses, cover their hair at all times, etc. There used to be a city bus line that ran between mostly Charedi neighborhoods – these buses were officially segregated between men & women.

Israel seems to be struggling to integrate Charedi into a modern society. Charedi men generally don’t work; they study the Torah all day. They are exempt from compulsory military service. And due to the “be fruitful and multiply” belief, they have many many children. Yet because of the pious purpose of their lives, they receive government stipends on which they live. For these reasons they are sometimes perceived as a drain on modern society. I heard more than one Israeli opinion along these lines. (Of course I would have heard opposite opinions in a Charedi neighborhood.)

Anyway, I bring this up because there have been a series of recent incidents involving clashes between the Charedi community and the less-religious-but-not-quite-secular population. I read the Jerusalem Post most mornings at the hotel and these incidents were front-page news. You can read about this conflict here. It mostly revolves around the segregation aspect. There is even an ‘Israeli Rosa Parks’ story, a women who refused to sit at the back of a traditionally segregated bus!

What is perhaps most fascinating to me is that on NYE, a bunch of Charedim gathered in Jerusalem to protest this secular push into their religious community. As you can read in the Wikipedia article linked above, several of them dressed in Holocaust-style garb (yellow star that says ‘Juden’, etc), likening their to treatment to that of Holocaust victims. This choice of dress seems likely to widen the split further. You do not invoke the Holocaust lightly in Israel, for obvious reasons!

The whole thing seems very similar to how evangelicals seem to feel in modern America. Like they are the ones who are sane in a crazy world, beset on all sides by the forces of evil, including the government of the country they live in. It’s the kind of feeling that leads to partisan factions shouting at each other and sometimes violence.

I am all for people worshiping how they want to worship, unless it infringes on the freedoms of others, which Charedi customs do. Additionally, it’s scary to me to think that such beliefs can come to dictate policy, such as in the largely-Charedi neighborhoods or towns in Israel. I just don’t understand all this religious domination of women by men. It comes in all shapes and sizes and permeates many religions. It makes no sense to me. In other ways, it is oddly comforting to know that Jews have their fundamentalist zealots just like all other religions do.

Anyway, that bit about the Charedim was longer than I’d planned, but the issue is fascinating to me. I typically don’t think of Judaism as an extreme religion. But it seems you can’t have religion, beliefs of any kind really, without having a split between traditional fundamentalists and modern liberals. People seem unable to take the ‘you do things your way, I’ll do things my way, and even if I don’t agree with you, I respect your right to do so’ route. We seem to want to tell everyone that what they are doing is incorrect and misguided. Silly humans, diversity is for microorganisms!

I don’t really have a conclusion to this post I just wanted to get some things out of my head and into my blog. Stay tuned for pictures and perhaps another few posts talking about some of the specific places / things I did while in the motherland!

I have been hearing about the Occupy movement since it began, just like everyone else. Through reading reports and generally being down with the kinds of people who support what they are doing, I became relatively familiar with, uh, what they are doing and why they are doing it. I’ve had a few discussions with friends about the issues surrounding the protests and read a lot about them, but I hadn’t taken the time out to check it out for myself. I’m not in NYC or LA or Chicago or Oakland or Berkely where most of the headlines are being made. But luckily for me, there is Occupy Austin. So on a bright, chilly Sunday afternoon (November 27th) I headed down there to check it out. The following is adapted from an email I sent my girlfriend, so it jumps around a bit:

It was cold (in the 50s), so nothing was happening. The place had the air of a homeless camp. Lots of the people there were of the crust/punk variety, a lot of dreadlocks & scraggly beards & tattered clothes, a tent piled high with junk and cardboard, etc. There were a shitload of sleeping bags on the raised steps leading up to the City Hall ledge, and perhaps 20 people hanging out in & around them, reading, sleeping, talking, eating, etc. People were holding up signs like ‘Jesus Would Be Here’ and ‘We Have the Right to Not be Silent’ and selling donated baked goods along Cesar Chavez Street, talking to joggers and families who’d parked in the City Hall garage and who were wandering by. Cars on the street honked; whether in support or ridicule was left undetermined unless we happened to glimpse a raised middle finger.

The occupants were obsessed with cleanliness; I saw two people get in a fight because one guy was taking coffee but he hadn’t cleaned the machine, or something. There was a set of plastic drawers filled with toiletries and hygiene products. It hit home that these people are literally living outdoors. One protester was upset at a homeless guy who was wandering around (the open-air nature of the camp is attracting lots of homeless) with some sort of growth on his hand.

So there wasn’t much activity — just hanging out, like I described above. Whatever you’d do in your home, but just outside at City Hall with whatever amenities are available there, like skateboards and traffic cones and donations from passers-by and cell phone service. It is literally an occupation. At first I felt unsure about what I was supposed to do. No direction. Then after like 20 minutes I realized it was enough to just be there, and I felt better.

More!

This is my girlfriend. (I like to imagine she is saying: “Really, Ryan? Really?” Although I’m not sure what she’s referring to …)

Not-so-pleasant (but still awesome):

This is the lead singer of GWAR.

Also from that night, the two guitarists in Warbeast:

This is black & white to avoid the unpleasant red stage lighting.

View the full set!

Click an image to see the full set!

List of bands I saw:

• Brandt Bauer Frick
• Captured by Robots
• Dead Horse
• Death Grips
• Hot Snakes
• Negative Approach
• Paint it Black
• Shapes Have Fangs
• T Bird and the Breaks
• Touche Amore
• tUne-yArDs
• World Inferno Friendship Society
• Wugazi
• Youth Brigade

I’m avoiding coverage of the Cardinals at the moment. It might be a few days until I return to reading about baseball! I assume Freese was named MVP of the World Series. He certainly deserves it.

So in the meantime, enjoy what I wrote after the rollercoaster ride of Game 6.

* * *

If I live to be 100, I doubt I will ever see such an up-the-wall-and-around-the-bend baseball game as I did last night. Errors, clutch hits, terrible pitching, brilliant pitching, several game-tying and go-ahead hits, heart-stopping two-out/two-strike hits, managerial mistakes, silly defensive strategies, a bases-loaded pickoff at third, three — count’em — THREE BLOWN SAVES IN ONE GAME by Rangers’ pitching, and one disgusting turn of Mike Napoli’s ankle. (Yuck.)

I went to bed a sweaty, deranged mess.

People who say baseball is boring should be forced to watch this game over and over again. As it is, this game will stand for the ages, especially if the Cardinals go on to win Game 7. If they do, Freese’s triple will stand alongside such memorable plays as The Shot Heard ‘Round The World, The Catch, Kirk Gibson’s ’88 home run, The One that Got Through Buckner’s Legs, Bucky Dent’s 1978 home run, the Bloody Sock, and Luis Gonzalez’s Bloop Single. Even clutch plays that ultimately end in a series loss — such as Jeter’s 2001 home run — can end up as part of storied baseball lore.

That Freese is a St. Louis native only adds to the cachet. He can go the way of Aaron Boone in 2003 and still never have to pay for a beer in this city again.

However, if the Rangers win it, they will have done so despite the horrendous, inept, by-the-book, situationally-unaware managing of Ron Washington. One of my favorite baseball tirades is that “the manager doesn’t matter much.” That’s true over the long haul of the regular season, when the players’ talents on the field tend to outweigh chance. However, in the context of a single game, with all its reliance on chance and luck, and especially in the win-or-go-home World Series, the importance of managers’ decisions is magnified greatly.

Washington showed us that last night:

• See his refusal to remove Colby Lewis with a one-run lead, the bases loaded, and two outs earlier in the game. Colby had been pitching well, but not well enough to justify staying in the game in that situation, especially not with the Rangers’ (normally lockdown) bulllpen. He struck out swinging as AL pitchers are wont to do.
• See his stubborn reliance on Ogando, who has clearly lost what skill he had after starting games for most of the season. Ogando walked two and forced in a run.
• See his removal of Feldman, absolutely his best pitcher remaining, in favor of … Esteban German … with Napoli at first, to play for one measly base, forcing Lowe into the game.
• See his stubborn refusal to bat his best hitter (NAP-OH-LEE) higher in the order.

Yes, it still comes down to the players. Ogando, Feliz, and Feldman were not up to their tasks. Mark Lowe is who he is. Cruz dropped a key fly ball, and let’s not even talk about the errors Michael Young made at first.

But this is Washington’s deal. Either he felt Game 6 was not necessary due to some confidence in Matt Harrison for Game 7 or he just cannot manage in NL ballparks. Maybe he has some secret knowledge of Chris Carpenter that we do not, some kryptonite weakpoint that he feels will be Carp’s undoing. More than likely, he is just who he is, a manager who gets by on the strength of his players, so when they falter or go through slumps as sometimes happens, he has no recourse for victory.

The nail in his coffin is that, to the media at least, he absolved himself of any blame, saying things like “It just wasn’t meant to be.” Notice the passive voice in that statement, rivaling the infamous “mistakes were made.” Um, that’s bullshit dude. No higher power or force of fate is controlling this game (despite Hamilton’s insistence that God told him he’d hit that home run). Nothing is meaning this game to be anything. You are in control. Man the fuck up and take some responsibility for your actions. If you can’t recognize your own weak points, especially in situations like these, you are doomed, just doomed.

I didn’t see the game, but I read a detailed summary and facepalmed a number of times. Both Wash and TLR seemed intent on giving the damn game away — asking players to bunt or steal when it didn’t make sense, intentionally walking players with nobody else on base, and other blunders (such as Wash batting his best hitter — Napoli — eighth). We baseball nerds call those moves “giving away outs,” which is never a good strategy. Outs are like crisp $100 bills — they are the currency of baseball. You only have a few and should only give them up if you get something of equal or greater value in return. Otherwise, hold them close and don’t let them slip out of your wallet.

Despite that, we find ourselves up 3-2 in the series, able to clinch it Wednesday if our pitching can hold the Cards at bay and somebody besides Napoli can squeak a few hits out of the infield. Jaime Garcia is on the mound for the Redbirds; he struck out 7 last Thursday but we had Colbayashi on the mound to do the same to them. Since we’ve seen Garcia a few times now, we’ll hopefully be able to hit him better this time. Of course the same danger is there for Colby, and the Cards will be on their home turf, making the climb a tough one — home teams win 52% of the time, controlling for everything else.

Related Links:

• Joe Posnanski’s post on the bullpen phone fiasco
• Timely NYT article on this antiquated technology, involving Lance Lynn, who was also involved in last night’s bullpen-phone-related incident/fiasco, and the Philadelphia incident that TLR also mentioned in his post-game press conference after Game 5