Certified Legendary Thread The Squiggle is back in 2023 (and other analytics)

[Final Siren]

In that attachment any reason why hawks 2016 is noted?

The article was written in mid-2016, when as I'm sure you recall Hawthorn were on a much-feared quest for their fourth straight flag. The Hawks weren't playing especially well, but they did keep flopping over the line in close games. So the common wisdom emerged that "good teams win the close ones," to fit the narrative that Hawthorn were actually much better than their results suggested.

As the article points out, this isn't great logic considering that the year before, Hawthorn only won 1 out of 5 close games. If good teams win the close ones, why did the threepeat Hawks of 2015 keep dropping them? And indeed, all teams tend to reliably and quickly revert to the mean after having an unusually good or poor return from a season of close games, which strongly suggests that there's a lot of luck and random variation involved.

edit: This is actually a good retrospective read from mid-2016... an article telling us to ignore all the stats that suggested Hawthorn were diminished, because the club's culture and coaching were so good they defied statistics. This did not turn out to be the case.

 

[Holy Rioli]

The article was written in mid-2016, when as I'm sure you recall Hawthorn were on a much-feared quest for their fourth straight flag. The Hawks weren't playing especially well, but they did keep flopping over the line in close games. So the common wisdom emerged that "good teams win the close ones," to fit the narrative that Hawthorn were actually much better than their results suggested.

As the article points out, this isn't great logic considering that the year before, Hawthorn only won 1 out of 5 close games. If good teams win the close ones, why did the threepeat Hawks of 2015 keep dropping them? And indeed, all teams tend to reliably and quickly revert to the mean after having an unusually good or poor return from a season of close games, which strongly suggests that there's a lot of luck and random variation involved.

edit: This is actually a good retrospective read from mid-2016... an article telling us to ignore all the stats that suggested Hawthorn were diminished, because the club's culture and coaching were so good they defied statistics. This did not turn out to be the case.

we did win a lot of close games that year, but we were very much deserving to be in the premiership hunt as well. Isaac Smith makes that kick against Geelong and knows what happens.

In previous years Geelong and Fremantle did similar things where they racked up a lot of home and away wins but their % wasn't that great. I'm not sure why it's only Hawthorn that gets used as an example here.

 

[HTT]

we did win a lot of close games that year, but we were very much deserving to be in the premiership hunt as well. Isaac Smith makes that kick against Geelong and knows what happens.

In previous years Geelong and Fremantle did similar things where they racked up a lot of home and away wins but their % wasn't that great. I'm not sure why it's only Hawthorn that gets used as an example here.

They were the example because they were three time reigning premiers and therefore attracted by far the most interest from supporters of other clubs.

 

[Final Siren]

we did win a lot of close games that year, but we were very much deserving to be in the premiership hunt as well. Isaac Smith makes that kick against Geelong and knows what happens.

In previous years Geelong and Fremantle did similar things where they racked up a lot of home and away wins but their % wasn't that great. I'm not sure why it's only Hawthorn that gets used as an example here.

Fremantle 2015 are actually my all-time favourite example of this phenomenon. They won the minor premiership off the back of 7 wins from 8 close games, then the next year corrected all the way down to 16th.

Hawthorn are a good example too, because they displayed either extreme in consecutive years: 1 win from 5 close games in 2015, then 6 wins from 6 close games in 2016, including a notable threepeat of consecutive 3-point wins. It's essentially the same team, but with very different outcomes.

It also helps that if "good teams win the close ones," we should expect Hawthorn 2016 with their 17 wins including many close wins to be a superior finals performer to Hawthorn 2015, who had only 16 wins plus a bunch of close losses. Yet the flags say differently. It's much better explained by the idea that close games tend to be a bit of a crapshoot.

 

[Final Siren]

Goddammit.

 

[tonygeeks]

Goddammit.

View attachment 1175943

Haha , hoisted on your own petard


On iPhone using BigFooty.com mobile app

 

[tazaa]

If and it’s a big IF 17th or 16th are bad enough I can north winning it’s way out of a spoon.
There just needs to be a small gap in the last 8-9 rounds IMO.
Once Tarrant, Corr, McDonald, Anderson, Polec, Dumont, Hall etc come back after the bye we’ll see a sharp increase in competitiveness IMO

I think you'll win a game or two, but those blokes aren't taking you from Dees 2013 level to 4 or 5 wins which is the minimum you'll need I think to finish 17th.

Since the bye our footy would beat Melbourne 2013 by 10 goals

I can see us leap frogging hawthorn and Adelaide sadly which means we lose Horne

 

[Joao]

Since the bye our footy would beat Melbourne 2013 by 10 goals

I can see us leap frogging hawthorn and Adelaide sadly which means we lose Horne

Yeah full credit, you're way better than you were early. Could get as high 16th as those two are playing ****.

Enjoyed the game tonight for sure.

 

[lewdogs]

Saints in the 8!

 

[Roobs321]

If Eagles get smashed by the Crows next week they could maybe fall to last in normal squiggle form.

 

[Andonis1997]

So we have an 11% chance of making the top 8, or bottom 4 as of Round 17.
I'll take it.

 

[Fat Tony!]

Why does the Squiggle have the WBD defensive rating superior to that of Melbourne? (The Dees have conceded less points against this year and also last year to WBD.)

Do the offensive/defensive ratings factor in points for/against, opposition strength and game location? (And the WBD have had superior opponents and higher scoring grounds?)

 

[Final Siren]

Why does the Squiggle have the WBD defensive rating superior to that of Melbourne? (The Dees have conceded less points against this year and also last year to WBD.)

Do the offensive/defensive ratings factor in points for/against, opposition strength and game location? (And the WBD have had superior opponents and higher scoring grounds?)

Well, they're basically the same, on both counts: the Dogs are only a teensy bit ahead of Melbourne in their defensive rating, and it's 995 Points Against to 991. So call 'em even.

Squiggle does factor in opposition scoring power, yes, and location, although not that some grounds are higher-scoring than others -- just in terms of home advantage.

Another factor is timing: Squiggle's rating is for right now, while Points Against is a simple accumulation where every round counts equally. One of Melbourne's best defensive efforts was keeping Richmond to 6 goals, for example (it was more impressive at the time), but that was back in Round 6. Whereas the Dogs kept the Eagles to 6 goals in Perth just two rounds ago (although that was also more impressive at the time).

 

[Mantastic]

Why does the Squiggle have the WBD defensive rating superior to that of Melbourne? (The Dees have conceded less points against this year and also last year to WBD.)

Do the offensive/defensive ratings factor in points for/against, opposition strength and game location? (And the WBD have had superior opponents and higher scoring grounds?)

The ratings for both attack and defense move based on performance-based against the projected outcome.

So, Melbourne could be projected to concede 40 points and then concede 50 points and their rating would drop. Meanwhile the Dogs could be projected to concede 70 and concede 60 and their rating improves. Even though you may think Melbourne did better, as they conceded less.

 

[Dirty Bird]

Final Siren you made me check the afl fixture when it said GWS vs Port Adelaide in Wellington

Here's wondering if you know something we dont yet. Hmmmmm

 

[Final Siren]

Final Siren you made me check the afl fixture when it said GWS vs Port Adelaide in Wellington

Here's wondering if you know something we dont yet. Hmmmmm

Heh, yes, I use Wellington when the venue is unknown because it assigns both teams zero home ground advantage.

Until this year, we almost never had a game fixtured without a venue, so it was a quick hack... now I should fix it properly, to avoid frightening people.

 

[JohnZ]

Squiggle not quite rating the cats yet. Hopefully the next few weeks sorts that out.

 

[catstorm]

Squiggle not quite rating the cats yet. Hopefully the next few weeks sorts that out.

It rates Geelong as the Joint 2nd favorite for the flag and has us only 3 points away from beating Melbourne in a QF.

 

[Final Siren]

I just posted this on https://squiggle.com.au, thought it might be of interest to people who follow this thread:

---
If you do one thing each day that has a 99% survival rate, you’ll likely be dead in under ten weeks. If boarding a plane had a 99% survival rate, a typical flight would end by carting off at least one passenger in a body bag, perhaps two or three. Ninety-nine sounds close enough to 100, but anything with a 99% survival rate is incomprehensibly dangerous.

Go sky-diving, and you’re over two thousand times safer than if you were doing something with a 99% survival rate. Driving, the most dangerous everyday activity, requires you to clock up almost a million miles of travel before you’re only 99% likely to survive. Even base jumping, perhaps the single most dangerous thing you can do without actively wanting to die, is twenty-five times safer than anything that carries a 99% survival rate.

Ninety-nine bananas is essentially one hundred bananas. Ninety-nine days is practically a hundred days. But 99% is often not even remotely close to 100%. It feels like similar numbers should lead to similar outcomes, but the difference in life expectancy between 99% and 100% survivable daily routines isn’t one percent: It’s ten weeks versus immortality.

It’s simple enough to calculate the probability of more than one thing happening: You just multiply the individual probabilities together. The likelihood of surviving for three days, for example, while doing one thing per day with a 99% survival rate, is 0.99 x 0.99 x 0.99 = 0.9703, or 97.03%.

But we find this deeply counter-intuitive. We prefer to think in categories, where everything can be labeled: good or bad, safe or dangerous, likely or unlikely. If we have an appointment and need to catch both a train and a bus, each of which have a 70% chance of running on time, we tend to consider both events as likely, and therefore conclude that we’ll make it. The actual likelihood that both services run on time is 0.70 x 0.70 = 0.49, or only 49%: We’ll probably be late.

We also prioritize feelings over numbers. Here’s a game: Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll try to guess it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you a million dollars. If I’m right, I’ll shoot you dead. Would you like to play?*

Most people won’t play this game, because the thought of being shot dead is too scary. It’s shocking and visceral, so when you weigh up the decision, both potential outcomes balloon in your mind until they feel roughly equal, as if the odds were 50/50, rather than one being 99 times more likely than the other.

But put the same game in a mundane context — if instead of being shot, you get COVID, and instead of a million dollars, you just go to work as usual — and we tend to return to categorical thinking, where the dangerous-but-unlikely outcome is filed away as too improbable to be worth thinking about. As if close to 100% is close enough.

Between 99% and 100% lies infinity. It spans the distance between something that happens half a dozen times a year and something that hasn’t happened once in the history of the universe. With each step we take beyond 99%, we cover less distance than before: 1-in-200 gets us to 99.50%, then 1-in-300 to 99.67%, then 1-in-400 only to 99.75%. We’ve quadrupled our steps, but only covered three-quarters of the remaining distance. We can keep forging ahead forever, to 1-in-a-thousand and 1-in-a-million and beyond, and still there will be an endless ocean between us and 100%.

You have to watch out for 99%. You have to respect the territory it conceals.

* I pick 73.

 

[Dr Tigris]

I just posted this on https://squiggle.com.au, thought it might be of interest to people who follow this thread:

---
If you do one thing each day that has a 99% survival rate, you’ll likely be dead in under ten weeks. If boarding a plane had a 99% survival rate, a typical flight would end by carting off at least one passenger in a body bag, perhaps two or three. Ninety-nine sounds close enough to 100, but anything with a 99% survival rate is incomprehensibly dangerous.

Go sky-diving, and you’re over two thousand times safer than if you were doing something with a 99% survival rate. Driving, the most dangerous everyday activity, requires you to clock up almost a million miles of travel before you’re only 99% likely to survive. Even base jumping, perhaps the single most dangerous thing you can do without actively wanting to die, is twenty-five times safer than anything that carries a 99% survival rate.

Ninety-nine bananas is essentially one hundred bananas. Ninety-nine days is practically a hundred days. But 99% is often not even remotely close to 100%. It feels like similar numbers should lead to similar outcomes, but the difference in life expectancy between 99% and 100% survivable daily routines isn’t one percent: It’s ten weeks versus immortality.

It’s simple enough to calculate the probability of more than one thing happening: You just multiply the individual probabilities together. The likelihood of surviving for three days, for example, while doing one thing per day with a 99% survival rate, is 0.99 x 0.99 x 0.99 = 0.9703, or 97.03%.

But we find this deeply counter-intuitive. We prefer to think in categories, where everything can be labeled: good or bad, safe or dangerous, likely or unlikely. If we have an appointment and need to catch both a train and a bus, each of which have a 70% chance of running on time, we tend to consider both events as likely, and therefore conclude that we’ll make it. The actual likelihood that both services run on time is 0.70 x 0.70 = 0.49, or only 49%: We’ll probably be late.

We also prioritize feelings over numbers. Here’s a game: Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll try to guess it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you a million dollars. If I’m right, I’ll shoot you dead. Would you like to play?*

Most people won’t play this game, because the thought of being shot dead is too scary. It’s shocking and visceral, so when you weigh up the decision, both potential outcomes balloon in your mind until they feel roughly equal, as if the odds were 50/50, rather than one being 99 times more likely than the other.

But put the same game in a mundane context — if instead of being shot, you get COVID, and instead of a million dollars, you just go to work as usual — and we tend to return to categorical thinking, where the dangerous-but-unlikely outcome is filed away as too improbable to be worth thinking about. As if close to 100% is close enough.

Between 99% and 100% lies infinity. It spans the distance between something that happens half a dozen times a year and something that hasn’t happened once in the history of the universe. With each step we take beyond 99%, we cover less distance than before: 1-in-200 gets us to 99.50%, then 1-in-300 to 99.67%, then 1-in-400 only to 99.75%. We’ve quadrupled our steps, but only covered three-quarters of the remaining distance. We can keep forging ahead forever, to 1-in-a-thousand and 1-in-a-million and beyond, and still there will be an endless ocean between us and 100%.

You have to watch out for 99%. You have to respect the territory it conceals.

* I pick 73.

The magic of compounding. Once you understand it the world is forever different.

 

[Whiskers]

I just posted this on https://squiggle.com.au, thought it might be of interest to people who follow this thread:

---
If you do one thing each day that has a 99% survival rate, you’ll likely be dead in under ten weeks. If boarding a plane had a 99% survival rate, a typical flight would end by carting off at least one passenger in a body bag, perhaps two or three. Ninety-nine sounds close enough to 100, but anything with a 99% survival rate is incomprehensibly dangerous.

Go sky-diving, and you’re over two thousand times safer than if you were doing something with a 99% survival rate. Driving, the most dangerous everyday activity, requires you to clock up almost a million miles of travel before you’re only 99% likely to survive. Even base jumping, perhaps the single most dangerous thing you can do without actively wanting to die, is twenty-five times safer than anything that carries a 99% survival rate.

Ninety-nine bananas is essentially one hundred bananas. Ninety-nine days is practically a hundred days. But 99% is often not even remotely close to 100%. It feels like similar numbers should lead to similar outcomes, but the difference in life expectancy between 99% and 100% survivable daily routines isn’t one percent: It’s ten weeks versus immortality.

It’s simple enough to calculate the probability of more than one thing happening: You just multiply the individual probabilities together. The likelihood of surviving for three days, for example, while doing one thing per day with a 99% survival rate, is 0.99 x 0.99 x 0.99 = 0.9703, or 97.03%.

But we find this deeply counter-intuitive. We prefer to think in categories, where everything can be labeled: good or bad, safe or dangerous, likely or unlikely. If we have an appointment and need to catch both a train and a bus, each of which have a 70% chance of running on time, we tend to consider both events as likely, and therefore conclude that we’ll make it. The actual likelihood that both services run on time is 0.70 x 0.70 = 0.49, or only 49%: We’ll probably be late.

We also prioritize feelings over numbers. Here’s a game: Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll try to guess it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you a million dollars. If I’m right, I’ll shoot you dead. Would you like to play?*

Most people won’t play this game, because the thought of being shot dead is too scary. It’s shocking and visceral, so when you weigh up the decision, both potential outcomes balloon in your mind until they feel roughly equal, as if the odds were 50/50, rather than one being 99 times more likely than the other.

But put the same game in a mundane context — if instead of being shot, you get COVID, and instead of a million dollars, you just go to work as usual — and we tend to return to categorical thinking, where the dangerous-but-unlikely outcome is filed away as too improbable to be worth thinking about. As if close to 100% is close enough.

Between 99% and 100% lies infinity. It spans the distance between something that happens half a dozen times a year and something that hasn’t happened once in the history of the universe. With each step we take beyond 99%, we cover less distance than before: 1-in-200 gets us to 99.50%, then 1-in-300 to 99.67%, then 1-in-400 only to 99.75%. We’ve quadrupled our steps, but only covered three-quarters of the remaining distance. We can keep forging ahead forever, to 1-in-a-thousand and 1-in-a-million and beyond, and still there will be an endless ocean between us and 100%.

You have to watch out for 99%. You have to respect the territory it conceals.

* I pick 73.

That is so true and very well explained.

 

[tonygeeks]

I just posted this on https://squiggle.com.au, thought it might be of interest to people who follow this thread:

---
If you do one thing each day that has a 99% survival rate, you’ll likely be dead in under ten weeks. If boarding a plane had a 99% survival rate, a typical flight would end by carting off at least one passenger in a body bag, perhaps two or three. Ninety-nine sounds close enough to 100, but anything with a 99% survival rate is incomprehensibly dangerous.

Go sky-diving, and you’re over two thousand times safer than if you were doing something with a 99% survival rate. Driving, the most dangerous everyday activity, requires you to clock up almost a million miles of travel before you’re only 99% likely to survive. Even base jumping, perhaps the single most dangerous thing you can do without actively wanting to die, is twenty-five times safer than anything that carries a 99% survival rate.

Ninety-nine bananas is essentially one hundred bananas. Ninety-nine days is practically a hundred days. But 99% is often not even remotely close to 100%. It feels like similar numbers should lead to similar outcomes, but the difference in life expectancy between 99% and 100% survivable daily routines isn’t one percent: It’s ten weeks versus immortality.

It’s simple enough to calculate the probability of more than one thing happening: You just multiply the individual probabilities together. The likelihood of surviving for three days, for example, while doing one thing per day with a 99% survival rate, is 0.99 x 0.99 x 0.99 = 0.9703, or 97.03%.

But we find this deeply counter-intuitive. We prefer to think in categories, where everything can be labeled: good or bad, safe or dangerous, likely or unlikely. If we have an appointment and need to catch both a train and a bus, each of which have a 70% chance of running on time, we tend to consider both events as likely, and therefore conclude that we’ll make it. The actual likelihood that both services run on time is 0.70 x 0.70 = 0.49, or only 49%: We’ll probably be late.

We also prioritize feelings over numbers. Here’s a game: Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll try to guess it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you a million dollars. If I’m right, I’ll shoot you dead. Would you like to play?*

Most people won’t play this game, because the thought of being shot dead is too scary. It’s shocking and visceral, so when you weigh up the decision, both potential outcomes balloon in your mind until they feel roughly equal, as if the odds were 50/50, rather than one being 99 times more likely than the other.

But put the same game in a mundane context — if instead of being shot, you get COVID, and instead of a million dollars, you just go to work as usual — and we tend to return to categorical thinking, where the dangerous-but-unlikely outcome is filed away as too improbable to be worth thinking about. As if close to 100% is close enough.

Between 99% and 100% lies infinity. It spans the distance between something that happens half a dozen times a year and something that hasn’t happened once in the history of the universe. With each step we take beyond 99%, we cover less distance than before: 1-in-200 gets us to 99.50%, then 1-in-300 to 99.67%, then 1-in-400 only to 99.75%. We’ve quadrupled our steps, but only covered three-quarters of the remaining distance. We can keep forging ahead forever, to 1-in-a-thousand and 1-in-a-million and beyond, and still there will be an endless ocean between us and 100%.

You have to watch out for 99%. You have to respect the territory it conceals.

* I pick 73.

Next time I tell someone I’m 99% sure about something I will be doing so with a knowing smile


Sent from my iPad using BigFooty.com

 

[Do the Dew]

I just posted this on https://squiggle.com.au, thought it might be of interest to people who follow this thread:

---
If you do one thing each day that has a 99% survival rate, you’ll likely be dead in under ten weeks. If boarding a plane had a 99% survival rate, a typical flight would end by carting off at least one passenger in a body bag, perhaps two or three. Ninety-nine sounds close enough to 100, but anything with a 99% survival rate is incomprehensibly dangerous.

Go sky-diving, and you’re over two thousand times safer than if you were doing something with a 99% survival rate. Driving, the most dangerous everyday activity, requires you to clock up almost a million miles of travel before you’re only 99% likely to survive. Even base jumping, perhaps the single most dangerous thing you can do without actively wanting to die, is twenty-five times safer than anything that carries a 99% survival rate.

Ninety-nine bananas is essentially one hundred bananas. Ninety-nine days is practically a hundred days. But 99% is often not even remotely close to 100%. It feels like similar numbers should lead to similar outcomes, but the difference in life expectancy between 99% and 100% survivable daily routines isn’t one percent: It’s ten weeks versus immortality.

It’s simple enough to calculate the probability of more than one thing happening: You just multiply the individual probabilities together. The likelihood of surviving for three days, for example, while doing one thing per day with a 99% survival rate, is 0.99 x 0.99 x 0.99 = 0.9703, or 97.03%.

But we find this deeply counter-intuitive. We prefer to think in categories, where everything can be labeled: good or bad, safe or dangerous, likely or unlikely. If we have an appointment and need to catch both a train and a bus, each of which have a 70% chance of running on time, we tend to consider both events as likely, and therefore conclude that we’ll make it. The actual likelihood that both services run on time is 0.70 x 0.70 = 0.49, or only 49%: We’ll probably be late.

We also prioritize feelings over numbers. Here’s a game: Pick a number between 1 and 100, and I’ll try to guess it. If I’m wrong, I’ll give you a million dollars. If I’m right, I’ll shoot you dead. Would you like to play?*

Most people won’t play this game, because the thought of being shot dead is too scary. It’s shocking and visceral, so when you weigh up the decision, both potential outcomes balloon in your mind until they feel roughly equal, as if the odds were 50/50, rather than one being 99 times more likely than the other.

But put the same game in a mundane context — if instead of being shot, you get COVID, and instead of a million dollars, you just go to work as usual — and we tend to return to categorical thinking, where the dangerous-but-unlikely outcome is filed away as too improbable to be worth thinking about. As if close to 100% is close enough.

Between 99% and 100% lies infinity. It spans the distance between something that happens half a dozen times a year and something that hasn’t happened once in the history of the universe. With each step we take beyond 99%, we cover less distance than before: 1-in-200 gets us to 99.50%, then 1-in-300 to 99.67%, then 1-in-400 only to 99.75%. We’ve quadrupled our steps, but only covered three-quarters of the remaining distance. We can keep forging ahead forever, to 1-in-a-thousand and 1-in-a-million and beyond, and still there will be an endless ocean between us and 100%.

You have to watch out for 99%. You have to respect the territory it conceals.

* I pick 73.

I guessed 29. I'll PM you my bank details and you can direct deposit that $1M. Thanks

 

[magic_johnson!]

Squiggle not quite rating the cats yet. Hopefully the next few weeks sorts that out.

We’re on the up! It only had us beating free by a point on the weekend

 

[Final Siren]

North Melbourne are no longer the worst team in the league! That's now Adelaide.



But the Roos are still most likely to finish 18th.