Ray Bradbury died this week at the age of 91, leaving behind an enormous legacy in literature, one that I fear will be excessively defined as a canon of science fiction, rather than merely of great writing.
My favorite Bradbury novel is the gothic horror story Something Wicked This Way Comes
He laughed, then stopped.
For he though he heard a soft tread
Off in the subterranean vaults.
But it was only his laughter
walking back
through the deep stacks
on panther feet.
That last sentence has stuck with me for over a decade since I first read the novel. Not only is the idea of walking “on panther feet” a phenomenal, evocative image, but there’s poetry in the sentence itself: The rhyme between “back” and “stacks;” the assonance with those two words, “laughter,” and “panther;” the way the sound recedes as you read (or say) the sentence, almost like the words are descending a staircase away from you. It’s just one line in a 200-page book, not even a critical line in the story, but it’s one bit of evidence that Bradbury was more than just a great writer of speculative fiction – he was a great writer of prose.
To the links…
First, my own content:
* American League draft recaps.
* National League draft recaps.
* My day one recap.
* My June 5th chat, which took place during rounds 2 and 3.
* Where each team’s top drafted prospect ranks in their farm system.
* Podcasts: Thursday and Tuesday, plus my Tuesday hit with Colin Cowherd.
And from others…
* Why It’s Ethical to Eat Meat, by Michael Ruhlman. I’m on board with all of this except the quotes from the farmer about the animals being “good with it.” If they had that kind of cognitive ability, we wouldn’t eat them at all, right?
* The New Neuroscience of Choking, by the superb Jonah Lehrer. I have two main problems with applying that study to the question of whether clutch or un-clutch players exist in MLB. The larger one is that the subjects were not highly trained since youth to perform the task they were then asked to perform with the reward promised to them. The smaller one is that my longtime argument about choking isn’t really addressed here – that players who are unable to perform under pressure would likely be weeded out long before reaching the majors, because pressure situations exist at all levels of baseball, and merely playing baseball at all in front of a crowd, knowing that your career hinges to some extent on your performances in front of scouts and your statistics, is in and of itself a pressure situation. That stance, of which I believe Occam would approve, is fully compatible with the study’s findings.
* To Grow A Craft Beer Business, The Secret’s In The Water, from NPR. Have they stepped up their coverage of food/drink subjects, or was I just behind the curve in noticing it?
* Cuisines Mastered as Acquired Tastes. Are non-native chefs who learn “ethnic” cuisines somehow at an advantage because they are more willing – or able – to think outside of the box?
* McSweeney’s Ultimate Guide to Writing Better Than You Normally Do. Very witty but with some useful tips in here … including some I should probably try myself.
* Bonus link: An interesting infographic on how healthful, local food creates jobs. I can’t vouch for the accuracy of the report and data behind it, though.
Might be a wrong word in the Bradbury quote.
Love your work.
Bradbury’s “Zen in the Art of Writing: Essays on Creativity” is a must for anybody interested in the man, his works and the craft he loved.
My first reading of Bradbury was “The Illustrated Man”. Still my favorite, but have got about 20 of his books now, and love them all. A great writer, may he rest in piece.
“one that I fear will be excessively defined as a canon of science fiction, rather than merely of great writing. ”
If all Bradbury had wrote could be easily classified as SF (not all of it can of course), it would still be great writing. Of course as a SF&F geek, I’m a bit reflexively defensive of our genre, so ymmv.
Keith,
I understand your point about pressure situations and “choking’ (i.e. there being pressure situations at all levels), but there are countless examples of athletes who (through talent or youthful naivte) succeed until the highest level and then crack (or stagnate).
Golf is perhaps the most obvious example of this, it being such an individual and mental game. Some guys shoot 80 in a final round of the major (Dustin Johnson, Rory Mcilroy) despite dominating as youths… and then have issues later on. Johnson hasn’t really recovered (yet) while Mcilroy went on to take a major immediately afterwards. Both are immensely (one might say similarly) talented. Greg Norman famously struggled in final rounds at majors, and got somewhat progressively worse the more defeats he suffered.
But the most interesting example, I think, is Novak Djokavic, who basically changed overnight from a very good player (but clearly 3rd best behind the immense Nadal and Federer) to a guy who is dominant and constantly plays well on big points. Yes he got fitter, but he summoned up immense belief in himself (both he and others talk about this a lot) and simply wins a far higher number of big points where he used not to.
Baseball isn’t quite as 1 v. 1 as tennis, but it clearly has some elements of mental concentration and belief. We struggle to test or measure clutch performance, especially over a group sample, but I think there are enough examples of the individual and the mental evolution of an athlete (over a wide range of individual sports) that would suggest that while we can’t exactly test for it (or even always statiscially identify it) the mental fortitude/progression of athletes is nonetheless a very real thing and does interact with this anecodal notion of “pressure.”
As a vegetarian, and one who doesn’t really care too much about carnivores food choices, I should point that out Ruhlman juxtaposes his examples of ethical farmers who sell to restaurants where I cannot afford to eat, and then points his accusing finger at those who choose a cheaper meat raised in a less than sustainable and ethical way.
I get the circular argument I’m making with supply and demand models, but ultimately my family and I decided to become vegetarian when we realized that ethical sourced meat is really, really expensive.
Nick, I’m not sure I find your Djokavic argument convincing – he’s also six years younger than Federer and a year younger than Nadal (who’s also had some significant injury problems) – couldn’t he just be hitting his natural peak at just the right time, and he’s winning more big points simply because he has now become a better player?
You may have a point about golf, but I think there is an important difference between golf and every other major sport I can think of – it is NOT a reactive sport; you don’t make adjustments in the middle of a play or decide what to do in a split second. With the exception of the pitcher, baseball is an entirely reactive sport, which suggests to me that instincts/muscle memory take over in those big moments. As far as pitchers go, I think Keith’s argument is going to cover the vast majority of cases; clearly there are exceptions, or we wouldn’t have Steve Blass ‘disease,’ but for almost all pitchers, the good and bad outings in clutch situations are most easily explained by small sample size and random variation.
To play devil’s advocate for a moment, though – if I were to question Keith’s logic, I might argue that the greatest pressure is found when you have an opportunity to attain the pinnacle of your career. In other words, some pitcher on Stony Brook (or LSU, for that matter) whose career will end with the College World Series has a lot more pressure on him than Kevin Gausman, who knows that even if LSU loses, he will have even bigger opportunities in the future. Most players who reach the pros have been stars their whole lives and have a good idea that they have a future at the next level, so they don’t reach their personal pinnacle of pressure until they get to an important spot in the big leagues. But I don’t really buy that there’s a meaningful difference in results.
I didn’t read the article, but based on Keith’s brief description here, that is what I have long held to be true about “clutch” performance. I think part of the problem is that many folks can think of instances where they choked. Maybe they botched two free throws during the high school state championship. Or get all flustered when giving a presentation in front of the boss. Which I’m sure no doubt is somewhat based on a human reaction to pressure. BUT, the reason that most of us aren’t professional athletes or world-renowed public speakers is because we struggle in those pressure situations. The folks who become the elite of the elite thrive in spite of them. They don’t necessarily become better in the “clutch”, they simply don’t succumb to pressure as some might.
I imagine there is the rare possibility that individuals can make it to the pinnacle of their sport while still struggling with intense pressure, but they would have to be so supremely talented that their achievements during other times far outweighs their struggles. Though I think the narrative about him is overwrought and myopic, a person like LeBron James could potentially fit this description. Even if he chokes in every clutch situation, clutch situations make up such a small percentage of the game, and a percentage made that much smaller by his brilliance and dominance elsewhere, that he could still become an elite professional despite being a “choker”. I don’t think LeBron is one, but his sheer force of talent is the type that could overwhelm a tendency to choking. Of course, he is also a once-in-a-lifetime talent and nothing should be generalized from what *might* be true about him.
Basically, if you can’t hit in late game situations or with folks watching, that catches up with you long before you make the show.
Keith,
Any verdict on that Fenugreen product? The paper that’s supposed to keep your fruit healthy longer? The only information I can seem to find on it might all be marketing by that company, so it would be nice to hear from another source how it worked.
Preston,
Not to make this a tennis chat, but I think Tennis is very illustrative of a dichotomy between “talent” and mental toughness. Djokovic himself has said repeatedly, that yes he got in better physical health (and yes Federer’s not quite the same player) but that his success is principally because of now being able to come back in matches that he used to fold in (i.e. down a set, down a few breaks, and not in positive mindset on the court).
But leaving aside Djokovic, we have guys like Marat Safin. There is hardly a more talented guy in the history of the game. He won the U.S. Open at age 20 after trucking Pete Sampras in straight sets… and then only won one other major (a thrilling Australian Open where he took out an in-his-prime Federer in 5 sets and then Lleyton Hewitt, hometown favorite in the final). Safin was notorious for being “unclutch” i.e. not being able to get outside his head in big matches, i.e. at the slams. He was a miss on the court, and often tentative (not hitting at his best) in big matches in slams.
The women are even worse. In no other sport does someone drop so precipitously from No.1 in the world to also-ran… Ana Ivanovic, Safina (Safat’s sister), and others. Martina Navratilova has famous said that the female player seem to lack confidence at truly tragic levels (“The men always think they’re even better then they are; the women always seem to think they’re worse.” Which affects them greatly).
Anyway, the point is that in tennis, it’s clear that the best players, no matter how “talented” with their game, have huge issues with the mental part of the competition, particularly in righting their game when things are going south. Now, this mental skill sometimes gets grouped with “talent” but it’s clear that this belief to play to the full calibre of your skills has a lot to do with things beside physical ability and time spent on the practice court honing strategy.
My point, as to baseball, is that the mental part of the game has to be a factor (potentially a large factor) and that “clutch” ability certainly seems to exist in certain other sports with 1 v. 1 competion; hence, I’d think it’d exist in various forms in baseball when it’s 1 v. 1 batter v. pitcher.
Keith,
Yah, NPR has a new podcast called Salt, which is dedicated to all things food and drink. I have only listened to slices of it but so far seems to have good potential.
I guess it’s actually called The Salt.
That’s a pretty cool study, but the New Yorker article actually has a handful of inaccuracies that make it very frustrating to read. I guess that’s pretty common in popular press summaries of science literature though.
Anyway, both of your points are good ones, Keith, and not exclusive from the findings of the study. While the authors did account for individual differences in the relationship between incentive peak and performance, it’s highly likely that none of the subjects in the study had such expertise in the behavioral task that the relationship approached a comparable ratio to what a professional athlete would show in their respective sport.
So, either the inverse relationship doesn’t exist in experts (i.e., that there’s no point at which incentive hurts performance), which I’d suggest is highly unlikely, or the training that it takes one to become an expert in an area alters the relationship between incentive and performance in such a way that most professional athletes will never be in such an extreme situation where their performance would decline because of the incentives. I’d buy the latter, and I’m pretty sure that scenario fits with your idea that players whose performance would quickly decline with slightly higher incentives (or pressure) than usual would be weeded out earlier.
With the season getting underway, anyone I should make a point to see in the NY-Penn League this year?