The Mystery and Myth of Motivation
I heard Joe Benigno say on a radio ad that he had single-handedly motivated the Mets (by dissing them roundly in an opening monologue). I heard Howie Rose say, near the end of Wednesday’s 7-0 loss to Cincinnati, that the Mets had seemed lackluster all day. Why wouldn’t the Mets have wanted, for their own reasons, to win the NL East title? Why would they have needed Joe Benigno to motivate them? Why wouldn’t the Mets have wanted to win on Wednesday as much as they wanted to win on Tuesday?
You know, at the end of Philadelphia’s four-game sweep of the Mets, I came to the frightening conclusion that the Phillies really wanted the division title and it might be impossible to deny it to them. Then I speculated on my blog that the epic 11-10 game (and not Joe Benigno) had finally lit the fires under the Mets. I marveled at the weekend evidence that maybe Philly didn’t really want it. I marveled, during the weekend series in Atlanta, at how little the Braves seemed to want something that was plausibly within their grasp.
Why would Philly want it so badly during the Series with the Mets, and then lose their desire over the weekend? Why wouldn’t the proud Braves want to regain their title? Why wouldn’t Philadelphia, on the verge of virtual elimination, want Wednesday’s game against Atlanta really badly? Now that Atlanta had virtually eliminated themselves, why would they want Wednesday’s game so much that they’d stage a titanic comeback? Why wouldn’t they have wanted to come back against the Mets over the weekend? Why could they manage only one measly run per game?
Why, I can’t help but ask, do we talk so much about “wanting?” Surely the degree to which the Mets, the Phillies, and the Braves want the NL East title doesn’t vary THAT MUCH from day to day. Why would it? How could it?
Well, you may say, the 2007 team, good as it is, has had a motivation problem all year. Okay. Name me a team that didn’t or doesn’t have a motivation problem. The 1986 Mets, you say. Okay, why couldn’t the 1986 Mets, with all their scrap and guts and nails, beat Mike Scott in the playoffs against Houston? Didn’t they want to? The 1986 Mets came, as you may remember, THIS CLOSE to losing to Boston in 6. What if they had lost that series? Would you have said that they didn’t want it? How could you have said that? Well, you say, the Mets beat the Red Sox in 7, didn’t that show that they wanted it? Maybe, or maybe that simply showed that Stanley was tired and Schiraldi was inexperienced. I have to be honest. I think that the amount that the Mets wanted to win the 1986 World Series would have been the same if they had lost it in 6 as it was when they won it in 7.
I honestly think that the Mets wanted to win Wednesday’s game against Cincinnati. But I think that John Maine didn’t have it and I think that the Mets hitters simply couldn’t figure out that Cincy pitcher who was living out of a trailer in the minor leagues last week.
When a player or a team is trying really hard to break out of a slump and can’t do it, we say that they are pressing, that they need to relax. But if they relax when they’re doing badly, we say that they don’t want it. I think that if we’re honest with ourselves, we can see that none of this makes any sense.
I do think that motivation is important in baseball, as it is in everything in life. But I think that we rely too much on the idea of a lack of motivation to explain disappointing performance and I think that we rely too much on the idea of motivation to explain good performance. This is why I think it is wrong to boo people who are trying.
It’s not that motivation is irrelevant. It’s just that there are too many other factors involved. When an enormously talented pitcher gets into the right groove, no amount of motivation is going to make it possible for you to hit him. When a batter gets so keyed in that you can’t get him out, motivation is not going to make it possible for you to get him out. Somebody could say that motivation accounts for what Atlanta did to Philly on Wednesday, but to me it had all the marks of a Philly bullpen meltdown. If motivation could do what we imply it can do, players would get out of slumps by desiring to. Everybody would win the pennant when they really really wanted to. It doesn’t work like that. The universe does not bend so easily to human will.
I’m declaring a moratorium on speculating about how much the Mets want anything. I think they want to win the World Series. And I think that all the other teams that make it to the playoffs will too. And I think that the Series will be won by the team that somehow manages to win the most games, and not necessarily by the team that wants it the most. It will be won by the team that manages to grab onto and hold onto the slippery beast that will try to slither away. It will take desire to do this, but it will take a whole hell of a lot more than desire.
What will it take? We don’t know and the Mets don’t know. And it is because no one knows that baseball is so interesting. None of our explanations work. And this is why baseball is so beautiful, wonderful, and mysterious.
September 11th, 2007 at 7:33 pm
Yes, it’s preposterous to think that a team actually does not want to win…some may be more afraid of losing than others, which can be counterproductive.
I’m amazed at the recent turns of events–the sweep by Philly followed by our astounding resurgence. What a difference this year from last, when we limped into the postseason with just 2 pitchers from our original rotation. If Delgado can return at 100%, pretty much every cylinder will be firing at once.
September 13th, 2007 at 2:34 pm
That’s one way of looking at it. I don’t see the winning problem as a result of motivation, as much as it is a result of no solidarity in the bullpen. Maybe there is a trust factor, or a motivation factor that falls off when those guys come out. It’s an interesting concept, but I don’t think that a team voluntarily elects to lose because they just don’t feel like playing…unless you’re out of the playoffs and your team name ends with ‘irates.’
September 14th, 2007 at 12:46 am
Love the site, and I just bought your book.
Let’s Go Mets.
September 14th, 2007 at 12:47 am
Forgot to link to my blog - my blog is not exclusively Mets, but it almost is.
September 27th, 2007 at 2:46 pm
[…] You’re in the same mood. But you may or may not be thinking what I am thinking. Look, the game was a genuinely lousy experience. I’m not going to deny it. But do you know what’s even worse? What’s worse is having to listen to people’s mouths. Not everybody’s mouth. I’m talking about the brain-dead 10% at most. That’s all it is. Next time you go to a game at Shea and somebody like Billy Wagner gives up a couple of runs and is taken out look around you and see what proportion of people are booing him. It’s never any more than 10%. It’s even less. But you hear them loud and clear. I’ve said it before about booing. I’ll boo genuine jerks. But I won’t boo struggling ballplayers. And I certainly won’t boo excellent ballplayers having a slump or a bad outing. Booing never helps. Booing often hurts. If the Mets lose a playoff spot by a game or two, you can blame the team if you like. I’m blaming the loud minority of morons in the stands. One of the losers who dared to open his mouth on our sacred ramps observed that “This team sucks!” If this team sucks, how would you have liked to have rooted for the 28 teams in the league that haven’t won as many games as we have? Go down the lineup. Okay Jose Reyes has had a mysteriously unsatisfying second half but taking everything into account would you say that Jose Reyes sucks? Does Luis Castillo suck? Does David Wright suck? (I’m surprised he wasn’t booed when he popped up and when he hit into a double play, but I think I heard some of the boo-ers thinking about it). Does Carlos Beltran suck (you know for a guy who’s hit 32 home runs and 109 runs batted in, he’s heard a lot of boos this season, so maybe he does)? Does Moises Alou suck? Does Carlos Delgado (the answer is no in case any of you are thinking that you want to jump on this one)? Do any of our other outfielders actually suck? Does LoDuca suck? Sure he hasn’t had a year like last year, but that was by far his best year ever. Who has a complaint about a scrappy catcher who hits .280 with some power? Does our bench suck? Does Pedro or El Duque? Glavine is giving us the same year he gave us last year. Ollie has had a terrific comeback year. Maine has slumped in the second half but has, overall, given us an excellent second season in the majors. Wagner has had a spectacular year. Heilman and Feliciano have done decent jobs, just as they did last year. So who sucks? Well our middle relief this year is nowhere near as good as it was last year. That’s the crux of it and it’s perfectly obvious. Yes, some of our starters are slumping or incapacitated as we get to the end but that happened last year too. The only really significant difference I can find between this year’s team and last year’s is that this year’s middle relief do not measure up to last year’s Mota, Bradford, Oliver, Sanchez, and Hernandez. There’s the reason, right there. That explains it, that accounts for the seven games difference. That’s all you need to explain it. Oh yeah, and the other difference is that the Phillies and Braves are better than they were last year, which creates a race. And this year we’re used to the Mets being good so it’s not a novelty. So when the mediocre middle relief cannot hold a lead built for a tired starter who implodes (as they did many times last year), we feel anguish, because it counts and it hurts, and nothing causes a fan to lose faith more than repeatedly blowing leads. It gives you a sense of total insecurity. As I’ve said before, I think the “they just don’t want it enough” theory is bullshit. They want it. They fight. They do what they can to come back. They don’t suck. They are an excellent team, probably the best in a relatively weak league, and they have one particular glaring flaw. And that flaw is difficult to correct, because if someone really shines as a middle reliever, there is a logical temptation to turn them into a starter or a closer. As Donald Rumsfeld observed (bear with me, this is the first time I’ve ever quoted him approvingly), you go to war with the army you have. I like these guys. Maybe you don’t, but if you don’t, please try to examine the reasons you don’t. Please don’t just go with your impressions that they lack this or that intangible manifestation of “guts” or “spirit” or “heart.” I submit that you don’t really know that. Nothing they’ve said would actually suggest that. Willie Randolph is not going to be able to change his personality just so you won’t say that. I’m going tonight. I’m going to cheer them on. And nothing short of them waving white flags would get me to boo them. […]