[QUOTE=CJJ*]
This cliche has always bothered me too, but I believe there is a grain of truth to it. Personally I interpret it as “the hardest thing to do among things the athlete is expected to do as a regular part of their participation in the game.”
A little wordy for a cliche, but interpreted this way it is definitely true. A QB with a 30% completion average, a basketball player with a 30% shooting average, and a hockey player with an unblocked shooting percentage of 30% would be pathetic; in MLB the 30% hitter is a millionaire (OK, the hockey one is qualified as “unblocked”, meaning the goalie either saved it or there was a score, but still…).
I’ll also specify that the word “hard” is based solely on this success rate; as RickJay points out, there’s really no other way to measure it. I’ll also concede that other sports may involve routine activities that require more stamina, concentration, strength, or other athletic qualities, but to use some examples cited, gynmasts do not fall off the balance beam on 70% of their moves, a boxer isn’t considered “good” if he survives only 30% of his fights, and a tennis player who completes only 30% of his serves is not playing at Wimbledon.
[/QUOTE]
I still don’t buy this argument, i’m afraid.
Firstly, i think that defining “hard” based on the percentage “success rate” is an inherently arbitrary and flawed strategy. Sure, it means we can quantify something, but it seems to me that the cost of such a strategy is that we fail to take into account the different criteria for success in different sports. This method of evaluation also assumes that difficulty and success are merely binary categories (you get a hit, or you don’t; you get a basket, or you don’t); they take no account of games like, say, rugby, where it is very difficult to measure ability with quantitative statistics at all, and where consistency of high quality general play is a key aspect of the game.
Furthermore, even if we do accept your percentage criterion, there are other candidates for more difficult sporting tasks. Take the position of bowler (sort of like a pitcher) in cricket. Over a five day international match (called a test match), there will be a maximum of 40 wickets, or outs (20 for each team). Each day of a test match, there is a minimum of 90 “overs” to be bowled. At 6 balls (or pitches) per over, that’s over 500 per day, or about 2,500 balls for a five day match. That means that, in this scenario, there will be one out for about every 60+ balls delivered, making the success rate of test match bowlers about 1.6%.
The cricket statistic that measures how frequently a bowler gets a wicket, or an out, is called the Strike Rate (SR), and is measured by calculating how many balls are are bowled per wicket taken. The figures for test match strike rates can be found here. That list, for those unfamiliar with the game, contains the names of the greatest bowlers ever to play the game, many of whom would be shoe-ins for any cricket hall of fame. As you can see, most of these guys bowl at a strike rate of between 45 and 60, and the best strike rate ever is George Lohmann (who played in the 1880s and 1890s) with 34.19. That means that Lohmann took a wicket every 34.19 times he bowled a ball, for a success rate of less than 3%. And most great bowlers hover between 1.6% and 2.2%.
Now, i don’t think this low percentage means that bowling in cricket is inherently harder than batting in baseball. In fact, i’m using it to illustrate how difficult it is make any such evaluation at all. The requirements for each are so different, as is the role that each task plays in its respective game. Cricket bowling, for example, has the non-binary factor (see above), because a bowler in cricket can bowl very well without getting wickets, and can still be a great asset to the team. A bowler, for example, who bowls very economically, allowing very few runs per over, might frustrate the opposing batters and cause them to try and score faster or make silly mistakes, leading to wickets later on. While good bowlers need to get wickets, their success is not evaluated on that alone.
English professional county cricket player Ed Smith wrote a book called Playing Hard Ball: County Cricket and Big League Baseball, in which he compared the two sports. One of his more interesting points was to note that baseball and cricket are, in terms or pressures and expectations on different types of players, almost the mirror image of one another.
In baseball, the immediate pressure of every individual at-bat is felt most acutely by the pitcher, because a single error on his part can mess up the whole thing. Because the hitting average in baseball is so low, with even great players failing two out of every three times, there is less pressure on the hitter each time he steps to the plate. Sure, a long run of outs might lead to concern and to increased pressure, but on any given at-bat even the best players in the world are more likely to fail than to succeed. And the hitter gets multipple chances. If he fails in the first inning, he’ll be back up to try again in the third or fourth.
The pitcher, on the other hand, gets very few opportunities to make a mistake. And every failure by the pitcher has dramatically greater consequences for the outcome of the game. The pitcher is expected to succeed in getting the out more often than not, and if this doesn’t happen he’ll be pulled from the game in short order. And as the end of the game nears, the pressure not to make a mistake gets even greater.
In cricket, by contrast, the bowler (pitcher) is the one who plugs away for long periods of time with infrequent rewards, much like the hitter in baseball. A bowler is not expected to get an out on any given delivery, and, in terms of getting an out, is expected to fail far more often than he succeeds.
For the batter, on the other hand, the pressure is constant, because he only gets one or two appearances in a match, and a single error can cost him his wicket and leave him sitting in the clubhouse for the next few hours or even days. Batters are expected to get a certain number of runs each time they go out to bat (a decent test match average is anything above about 40 runs per attempt, with the great players averaging over 50); they are expected to succeed more often than they fail. The pressure not to fail, and the consequences of a single mistake, are far greater for the batter than for the bowler in cricket.
What does this all mean for evaluating which is harder? Maybe nothing. I think that such comparisons are inherently difficult, perhaps impossible, to make, and i’m still unconvinced that hitting a baseball is inherently or objectively any more difficult than any one of a number of other sporting feats.