Hamburgers, handjobs and the BCS

Welcome back to barguments, a series of short posts designed to help you sound like a genius while discussing sports around the water cooler or win an argument at a bar, a bar argument, or bargument, if you will.

Don't get me wrong. You don't need the help. The mere fact that you're reading the JBorhood suggests you possess a mighty intellect and staggering good looks, however, I'm going to kick it up a notch (the intellect, not the looks; not that you need any help, you sexy beast). That way, you can devote more of your free time to your true pleasures, like go-cart racing, monkey jousting, and iambic pentameter poetry writing.

Today's bargument is about hand jobs, hamburgers, and swift kicks in the nuts.

A hamburger is better than a swift kick in the nuts. Not exactly groundbreaking news.

A hand job is better than a hamburger in almost all cases. However, if made correctly, a burger can approach, though not exceed, a poorly executed digital pleasuring.

By the transitive property, a hand job is better than a swift kick in the nuts, not that it was up for debate.

The relative merits of the items in question shouldn't raise too many eyebrows, however, they're important for establishing our baseline.

Hand Job > Hamburger > Swift Kick in the Nuts

You'd think this was straight forward, but that's because you're a devastatingly beautiful, astute reader of the JBorhood and not a BCS apologist.

One of the most common arguments levied in favor of the BCS is, "It's better than the old system!" Yes, that's true. Any system that matches the two (arguably) best teams in the country is better than one that does not. Nearly everyone agrees that Oregon and Auburn are the best two teams in the country, in some order, and are excited to watch them play for the National Title on January 10th. But then, nearly everyone agrees that a hamburger is better than a swift kick in the nuts.

That doesn't make a hamburger better than a hand job.

A playoff system (4 team; 8 team; 128 team; whatever) is better than the current BCS system. There is no single convincing argument supporting a bizarre, black-box ranking system that concludes that the #10 team in the Country is better than the #11 team because Appalachian State beat Western Illinois unconvincingly -- No, really -- over a playoff, the method employed by every single other sport on the planet. None. So people need to stop trumpeting the mind-numbingly trite fact that a BCS system is better than the original Bowl system as evidence against the need for a playoff.

Yes, the BCS is better than the nothing, but that doesn't make it better than a playoff (or a hand job, for that matter).

So, the next time a smug, ironic college football hipster tries to pass off the superiority of the BCS over the Bowl system as a pseudo-intellectual argument against a playoff, ask them how they feel about hamburgers and hand jobs. Better yet, just give them a swift kick in the nuts.

What safe sex can teach us about the NFL

I'm going to start a new running feature on the JBorhood called Barguments. It will consist of a series of short posts, each highlighting a snippet of information designed to help you sound like a genius while discussing sports around the water cooler or win an argument at a bar, a bar argument, or bargument, if you will.

Don't get me wrong. You don't need the help. The mere fact that you're reading the JBorhood suggests you possess a mighty intellect and staggering good looks, however, I'm going to kick it up a notch (the intellect, not the looks; not that you need any help, you sexy beast). That way, you can devote more of your free time to your true pleasures, like go-cart racing, monkey jousting, and dispensing spirit tasting information while drinking vodka in the shower.

You can thank me later.

Today's topic: Does running the football more increase a team's likelyhood of winning?

The short answer? No.

The mere act of handing the ball to the running back again and again does nothing to help a team's chance of winning. In fact, the frequency of almost any event, except for scoring and turning over the ball, has virtually no effect on the probability of winning or losing. The effectiveness of each action, not the action itself, is the determinant of success in football.

The New England Patriots are streamrolling the entire NFL with an offense that views running the football the way I view getting a colonoscopy. Meanwhile, the Kansas City Chiefs are improbably leading the AFC West with an offense that passes the ball for the sole purpose of giving their running backs a breather. These offenses succeed through superior execution, not a devotion to a specific type of play.

This should be clear. But it's not.

Week after week, football commentators regurgitate the same misguided idea that struggling teams need to run the football more because, on average, winning teams average more rushing attempts than losing teams. And that's a legitimate truth. This year's top four teams in rushing attempts -- Kansas City, New York Jets, Jacksonville, and Atlanta -- are a combined 37-15. The bottom four -- Denver, Seattle, Washington and Arizona -- are a combined 18-34. And it's the same story every year. Winning teams rush the football more than losing teams. So it's understandable why people jump to the conclusion that teams should rush the ball more often if they want to win.

But this brings us to the idea of correlation vs. causation. Correlation is a relationship between two variables. When one changes, we see a corresponding change in the other. Causation goes a step further. It says that one of the variables is responsible for the change in the other.

For example, when I was in college, a strong correlation existed between my prophylactic use and the frequency with which I got laid. Clearly, my Trojan application was a direct result of getting lucky. When I got laid, I used protection. When I didn't, I wasn't strutting around my dorm room ready for action (as far as you know, anyway). But, if I'd been friends with an NFL announcer in college, they would have no doubt suggested that I start each day by putting on a Durex Pleasuremax (for the record, I had to Google that) before my boxers, since every day I used a condom I ended up with a lady in bed.

Now, think of NFL Teams winning as getting laid and running the football as the application of a prophylactic. Teams don't win the game because they wear protection, err... run the football. They run the football because they win games.

When a team is winning, it wants to take care of the football and run out the clock. The safest way to do that is to run the football. Running reduces the chance of turnovers and keeps the clock moving on every play. The more a team is ahead, the more they'll run. It's that simple.

Granted, there are certainly situations where teams need to run the ball more. Mike Martz tried to turn this year's Chicago Bears into the 1999 St. Louis Rams before realizing they had the offensive line of the 1999 St. Louis Crusaders (In fairness to the Crusaders, they had a better O-line). When he eventually called more running plays, it gave the offense more balance, slowed down the pass rush of the defense and gave Jay Cutler (some) time to throw the football.

But that's the exception, not the rule.

The next time someone tells you that their favorite team needs to run the ball more to win, tell them about correlation, tell them about causation, and tell them about how using more condoms won't help them get laid. On second though, maybe you should just stick to the statistics.

It Has Begun

Embarrassing disclosure time: Last night was only the third UH Men's Basketball game I've attended since 2008. The unfortunate confluence of fatherhood and the borderline unwatchable Bob Nash era teams caused UH hoops to fall off my radar. I still paid attention - looked at box scores, tuned into K5 from time to time, openly wondered why Rod Flemings drove to the basket with the enthusiasm of a colonoscopy patient - but I never fully embraced the team after Riley Wallace left, or, more accurately, since Julian Senseley graduated.

But, new UH Men's basketball coach Gib Arnold has me excited. Very excited. Exact-opposite-of-Rod-Flemings-on-game-day excited. Seemingly every day, The Star-Advertiser or Warrior Insider (the must-read UH men's basketball blog) run a story about another incredibly tall, athletically gifted, would-never-possibly-consider-playing-basketball-in-Hawaii player committing to the Rainbow Warriors. Riley Wallace was allergic to athletically talented freshman. Gib Arnold attracts more college freshman than dollar night at Pipeline Cafe. So, when I heard that the undefeated Rainbows were playing a nationally televised game as part of ESPN's College Hoops Tip-Off Marathon at 11pm, I was in like Flynn. (Random note: I love outdated colloquialisms that endure past the point of relevancy. I have no idea who Flynn is or why he always seems to be in, but dammit, it sounds awesome.)

Undefeated Rainbow basketball team?

Talented group of exciting freshman playing up-tempo basketball?

11 pm start time (i.e. a loud, drunk, rowdy student-heavy crowd capable of influencing the outcome or, as other colleges like to call it, a normal college basketball atmosphere)?

32 ounce beers and garlic fries?

Check, check, check, and, surprisingly, check.

That's right. The University finally listened to the JBorhood. After I famously called out the school for the glaring lack of malted, hoppy liquid refreshment and garlic laced fried carbohydrates at the 11pm ESPN game in 2008 (Since we all agree that my fame is assured, I safely assume that everything I write is famous), someone in the UH athletic department got the memo and opened the requisite concession stands for last night's game. Judging from the intensity of the crowd, the gesture did not go unappreciated. And make no mistake about it, that crowd was intense.

The crowd was loud, positive, and had a big impact on the game.

Every time the game got close, every time the Rainbows needed a defensive stop, every time the opponents took a big free throw, the crowd took the noise to another level. 3,000 sounded like 30,000. You could see the impact on the faces of the UH players. When they made a big play, and they made a lot of big plays -- this team gets up and down the court in a hurry and probably threw more alley-oops last night than the sum total thrown in the Bob Nash era -- they'd look to the crowd for a reaction, throw their arms up, and encourage the crowd to kick it up a notch. It was the perfect symbiotic relationship: Fans begging their team for a reason to scream and a team only too happy to oblige. It was the most fun I've had at a UH Basketball game since AC Carter was throwing no-look outlet passes to Alika Smith.

But, ultimately, this game was not about the crowd, it was about the team. This team can flat out play. Gib Arnold deserves our respect, congratulations, and support for the job he did overhauling the roster and culture of the Hawaii basketball program. This is not your father's UH team. This team is athletic, deep, and young. Really young. UH trots out a cavalcade of freshman that deserve minutes at the Division I level and I can't remember the last time I could say that about any incoming first year player.

Bo Barnes and Zane Johnson can shoot the lights out. They don't dim the lights, these kids are CFL. When they get open looks... Lights. Go. Off. The Stan Sheriff Center is going to have to start buying bulbs from Costco.

I don't know what to say about Jostin Thomas. He renders me speechless. If he manages to harness his freakish athleticism, soft shooting touch, interior strength, and incredible ferocity, he will go down as the best basketball player in UH history. He is unlike anyone I can remember. Guys that fast, strong, talented and young don't come to UH. Ever. He takes too many bad shots, turns the ball over too frequently, and does not consistently dominate the boards the way you'd like a player with his size and leaping ability to do, but he has staggering natural talent, coupled with incredible drive and attitude -- something noticeably absent in recent supposed "stars" (Sensely, Flemings, et al). He is Neo. If he figures it out, he will be the one.

This team still has a lot of work to do. They need to take better care of the ball. They need to remain focused. They need to keep the foot on the accelerator. They need to be more disciplined in their defensive rotations. But, unlike any team in recent memory, this team has the time to make those adjustments. Barring injury, transfer, or ineligibility, these kids have four years to learn, grow, and improve. That's downright terrifying.

If the rest of the WAC isn't worried yet, they will be soon.

If you're like me and you let UH Basketball fall by the wayside in the past few years, it's time to start paying attention again. Come for the basketball. Come for the breathless displays of athleticism. Come for the 32 ounce beers and garlic fries. Just come.

That way, when the University of Hawaii wins their first ever NCAA tournament game in two years, you'll be able to say you were there from the beginning.

Make no mistake about it, it has begun.