Dobrow: Stats are great, but intangibles move baseball’s true barometer

Barnald de Funk, please don’t bother me with this grist-grimm?ning gunk while I’m dl’ing Moonstompa’s ‘Witch Doctor’ EP. Thanks.

Not to dump on the stathead set, currently holed up in their fathers’ attics hand-printing “Why I Hate Baseball” pamphlets, but such sober-minded analyses leaves out the most crucial part of all: The intangibles.

It’s all well and good that the Giants have surrendered a sum total of 89 runs in 39 games since September 1, but that says nothing about the moral fiber that underlines such stingy run-prevention. The Rangers might glove every ball hit within their area code, but all the range and instinct in the world wouldn’t matter if they didn’t play as a team—nay, as a family.

Clutchness: You can throw out all the “data” about “hitting with runners in scoring position” and “stranding inherited runners.” What matters is that when the stakes were the highest—in the eighth inning of Game 6 of the NLCS, in the first through ninth innings of Games 1-6 of the ALCS—both teams’ players showed up, not unlike a paycheck-reliant factory peon. Edge: Even

Grititude: This, of course, is the elusive combination of “grit” and “attitude” found in speedy white guys under the height of 5’11”. Neither Giant nor Ranger players slide into first base quite enough for my liking—why get there faster when you can get there dirtier?—but both teams delight in leathery flourishes, like junk-adjustment and aggressive chest-bumps. The Rangers would score higher in this category if Elvis Andrus traded in his pompadour for a Brett Gardnerian buzzcut. Edge: Giants