It is very, very frequently the case that teams win football games because they kick field goals. Field goals are a critical part of football.
More pertinently, field goals and touchdowns are both a product of the overall team effort to advance the ball down the field (or preventing them is done by preventing the other team from advancing the ball.) You can’t get either a touchdown or a field goal without the team advancing the ball, and the relative value of the two types of score is reasonable well balanced given the difficulty of doing them and relative level of reward for advancing the ball. Rugby, of course, has similar scoring conventions, but control and advancement of the ball is still the primary team goal that leads to tries, penalties, and field goals.
In Quidditch, the seeker is playing a completely different sport from the other positions; they are playing a game of scoring goals that’s kind of a combination of hockey and handball, while the seekers are playing Catch The Snitch. The two competitions are effectively entirely separate; the only connection is that they’re played at the same time.
You don’t need a 15-1 ratio; you need a difference of 15 scores. Very different. In basketball, for instance, it’s not at all rare for one team to score 30 points more than another.
It’s quite clear that the 150 point snitch score exists as a narrative convention to be able to make preteen wimp Harry the most important player in a sport played against high-schoolers, when under virtually any other circumstances he would not only be irrelevant, he’d be destroyed. I’m not sure how it’s tenable to argue otherwise. It’s quite clearly just to make him the star by making all the other players (and the points they score) irrelevant.
As for the sport’s name, I’m of the opinion that if you don’t want to be associated with Rowling, then don’t play the game she made up. You’re quite clearly playing quidditch (or muggle quidditch, or whatever) even if you call it ‘blidditch’ and look the other way while whistling.
Giving her credit where she’s due, Harry is not an expert in magic (or ‘magic jesus’) until at least book 4, if even then. He pretty much never triumphs through superior magical skill. So he couldn’t (and didn’t) start winning acclaim through magical power - instead he stumbled into a seeker job through a series of coincidences, and the game was basically designed in the only possible way that a newbie could win the game by falling off his broom and swallowing the ball. Jesus, he ain’t.
Sure, but looking at the known in-fiction Quidditch scores, the number of goals in a usual Quidditch match are nowhere near the number of baskets scored in basketball.
And don’t forget that all the stories of Quiddich games that ran for days, and losing by catching the snitch, came out as a result of reader feedback. The word got to Rowling that she knows shit-all about playing sports, so she doubled-down and says “oh yeah, well read this!” And then deposited the gazillion-pound cheque while laughing.
“Chess on ice”, aka Curling, is a wonderful sport (I say as I’m playing a game on my tablet).
Back to the silliness, er, sport at hand: quidditch with brooms is not only silly, but quite dangerous. You’re intentionally denying yourself of one half of your personal defense against falling injuries. AIUI, quidditch has a high rate of broken fingers, broken collarbones, and broken arms. The first time I heard of quidditch actually being played as an organized sport, I thought, “Oh, yeah? That’ll last about 10 minutes when all the players have broken their legs.” Luckily, my pessimism wasn’t prophetic.
Oh, and the snitch is simply stupid, in either the fictional or real universe. But, then, so’s running around at full tilt towards another person, both of you with a bloody broomstick b’tween yer pins.
You mean the guy who left (or was pushed out) of TSR in 1985 and hasn’t worked on D&D in thirty-six years now? It isn’t so much that WotC is distancing themselves from Gary Gygax so much as they’re distancing themselves from one of Gygax’s sons who is part of a company using TSR’s name in a story that is so bizarre and convoluted that I’ll spare the thread hijack.
There’s that as well. Right now, it looks to me like the gaming community is trying to come to grips with the problematic aspects of older material and their creators in contrast with our modern values. Or at least that’s what’s happening online. I suspect the vast majority of D&D players in their early 20s barely know why Gygax was and aren’t at all interested in D&D books produced 20 years before they were born.