Setting the Bar for Mediocrity
I’m trying out something kind of new here and venturing into the world of sports. I’m hoping it won’t turn out horribly. This may be something you know already, in which case I subtly encourage you to discover another interesting post here or join the email list and come back next time. If you don’t, then allow me to introduce to you the best worst (and my personal favorite) baseball player.
Since I started out this research journey as a mostly uninformed outsider, I feel like I need to drag you through the process too. So there’s one main baseball statistic you need to know: batting average.
Look. It probably sounds incredibly condescending for me to to even explain this, but it’s the explanation I wish I had when I started writing this article. Batting average is essentially the number of times a batter advances to first, divided by
“Number of times batted, except that no time at bat shall
be charged when a player
(A) hits a sacrifice bunt or sacrifice fly;
(B) is awarded first base on four called balls;
(C) is hit by a pitched ball; or
(D) is awarded first base because of interference or
obstruction.”
Since we’re apparently quoting from MLB now…
“In recent years, the league-wide batting average has typically hovered around .260.
The game’s best hitters can surpass .300, and a handful of players throughout history have even finished a season with a batting average higher than .400, meaning four hits in every 10 at-bats — although no one has done so across a full season since Ted Williams batted .406 in 1941.”
So according to the higher powers of baseball, getting .260 is a pretty decent showing for a batter. So what happens when you don’t? What happens when you get .200? What happens when you set the bar for mediocrity?
Mendoza happens. So here he is, potentially my favorite baseball player. It’s always nice to tell story to keep peoples’ attention, but I’m not sure there’s much story to tell.
Mario Mendoza, as you may have gathered, was a shortstop, which I’m told is a defensive position on the team. I don’t think he was necessarily expected to be a great hitter, and a great hitter he was not. In his 1979 season with the Seattle Mariners, he batted an average of .198. Not good. And he was immediately on a new team the following season.
In subsequent years, that average (rounded a bit to .200) haunted him and became the benchmark of untenable baseball. He would bounce around teams for a few years before returning to the Mexican League.
For the record, once he was back in the Mexican League, he improved substantially. Over the next seven years, he held a batting average of .291.
So, if anything, this isn’t really an article about a person (despite the interesting story). I guess this is about…a lesson? Don’t let other people…underestimate you?
Maybe one day I’ll take another crack at this sports thing. Right now, I’m feeling right about at a 0.000.
