OE SCAROLA is not one of the big names with the
New York Mets. His name is never in lights. There is no Joe Scarola
fan club. Many reporters who cover the team have no idea he
exists.
Day to day, however, Joe Scarola may do as much as anyone outside
the dugout to try to reverse the Mets' losing ways. And players like
Mike Piazza say the Joe Scarolas of the baseball world are changing
the way major league players approach the game.
Scarola, 29, is the Mets' video coordinator. From now until the
season ends in the fall - with the exception of Saturdays and
Sundays when the team is on the road, he said - his domain is a
windowless linoleum-tiled cell in the bowels of Shea Stadium.
It is an odd hybrid of a television control room and a computer
data center. There at the end of a dank hallway packed with crates
of Technicolor sports drinks, Scarola and his assistants record
almost every major league game - more than 2,000 a year - off the
DirecTV satellite service onto Hi-8 videotape. Hundreds of those
tapes are fed into a PC-based video editing system. Then comes the
hard part: Scarola and his crew break down each game into separate
video clips for each pitch. They annotate more than 40 variables for
each play, including the type of pitch, its location, which bases
were occupied, whether the batter was right- or left-handed, the
result, and so on.
The product is a searchable database of video - a baseball fan's
dream, perhaps, but increasingly a player's workaday tool.
Piazza, the Mets' slugging catcher, says technology has been at
least partly responsible for baseball's offensive explosion over the
last decade. "The fact that you can easily see how you've performed
against a certain pitcher in a certain situation is a big help now,"
he said. "I've had pitchers like David Cone tell me that the hitters
today are just better. They cover the plate better. They're smarter.
It's not the whole story, but video is a big part of that."
Scarola's operation is merely a reflection of a broader influx of
digital technology into the game. Major League Baseball is already
dispatching scorers to record each game on laptop computers. And now
the game's officials are encouraging teams to track each pitch on
Palm hand-held computers, looking to add those details to the
digital repository as well. Team executives following a prospect in
a small rural town log into huge databases that track thousands of
players. And Major League Baseball is making live Webcasts of
hundreds of games available to fans by subscription on the Web.
Fans in the ballpark, too, can benefit from the technology.
Scattered around Pacific Bell Park in San Francisco, for example,
are stations where Palm users with infrared connections can beam
themselves information about the day's lineups and statistics on a
game in progress.
The world of computer-driven baseball statistics has become so
serious, in fact, that Steve Hirdt, executive vice president of the
Elias Sports Bureau, a private firm that is a font of sports
information, will not discuss the technical systems his company
uses. "For competitive reasons," he explained.
For the same reasons, some teams refuse to discuss in detail
either their video systems or their statistical analyses. "If we
have stuff that other teams don't, we don't want them knowing about
it,'' said Matt Hodson, a spokesman for the San Francisco Giants.
Consulting and devising statistics to anticipate every potential
situation has long been a particular obsession in baseball: how,
say, Kevin Brown of the Los Angeles Dodgers pitches against
right-handed batters with runners in scoring position. With the
addition of video, the computer-generated answer to that question is
not only a number but a veritable highlight reel.
Denny Walling, the Mets' hitting coach, and Roger Cedeño, an
outfielder who has been struggling at the plate, were squeezing past
cases of Gatorade one recent afternoon to reach Scarola's lair for a
video consultation.
"There wasn't any of this stuff a few years ago, and it's really
helped us work with the hitters to identify tendencies and help to
work through an opponent's rotation," Walling said. "Up until a few
years ago, we could just talk to a hitter. Now, they can see what
we're talking about."
Perhaps an hour later, after a session in the batting cage,
Cedeño said he had been trying to work on some of the issues that he
and Walling had identified.
"Today when I'm hitting good I stand up a little more, and when
I'm struggling I get down with my shoulder, see?" said Cedeño,
demonstrating with a swinging motion. "You can see all that on the
computer. They can show you side-by-side the pictures of when you
are doing well and when you are struggling. It's a big help."
Digital technologies are a big help in the front office, too.
Despite the reluctance of some teams to reveal their technological
arsenals, Gary LaRocque, the Mets' assistant general manager and
director of scouting operations, was happy to demonstrate a custom
I.B.M.
Lotus Notes application that helps him keep track of the information
generated by the organization's 40 or so scouts.
With the professional baseball draft coming up in a few weeks,
the Mets' system is tracking statistics for 10,000 to 12,000 amateur
players, in addition to about 8,000 professional players, LaRocque
said.
As his hands danced across the keyboard of his office PC (which
has a quaint 15-inch screen), LaRocque demonstrated how the system
tied together the data generated by Major League Baseball's
centralized information system, reports entered each day by the
club's scouts and minor league analyses generated using software
from Inside Edge, an independent company based in Minnesota.
With a click, he pulled up information about one of the Mets'
stars: career statistics, length of service, Social Security number
and off-season address. With another click a screen showed that one
of the team's minor league pitchers threw first-pitch fastballs 71
percent of the time against right-handed batters but only 60 percent
of the time against lefties.
"I have access to whatever happened the previous day in the minor
leagues, the major leagues, with all of the amateur scouting that's
happening prior to the draft," LaRocque said.
The players rarely see all of the megabytes of statistics that
interest the front-office staff. For them, the No. 1 new technology
remains the digital video.
"We always had tapes, but you might have had to sit there for
three hours, fast-forwarding, " said Steve Trachsel, a veteran
pitcher for the Mets. "Now you can really focus on what you need,
and you might only have to spend one hour doing it."
Many clubs are installing additional cameras in their stadiums so
players and coaches can review angles that are never seen on
television. The Mets, for instance, have installed at least three
additional cameras along the first- and third-base lines and behind
home plate. Other teams have even more. Dan Feinstein, video
coordinator for the Oakland Athletics, said his team records up to
seven angles for home games.
Piazza and other players say the ability to study video is a
particular boon to hitters. Pitchers have always been better
prepared than batters, some baseball experts say, because starters
have several days' rest between starts, giving them the opportunity
to study batters they are scheduled to face.
Now with computerized video systems, players can study pitchers
more efficiently.
"Of course," Piazza said, "you still have to produce on the
field."
For all of their added technology, the Mets have been having
trouble with that part of the equation. As in so many other areas of
life, technology is merely a tool, not a solution.
Tom Glavine, the pitcher who joined the Mets this season after
years with the Atlanta Braves, said the Braves were far less
aggressive than the Mets in using video technology. But that has not
stopped the Braves from dominating the Mets in recent years.
In the end, technology is only as useful as people choose to make
it. A laptop in the Mets' clubhouse is tied into Scarola's video
cave. Some players use the laptop all the time; others do not.
A few hours before a recent night game, that laptop collected
dust while one of the team's underachieving stars reclined on a
couch watching "Beverly Hills Cop" on a flat-screen television.