Team Chemistry – Fact or Fiction?

I am tired of the baseball hacks who get suckered into writing about team chemistry as if it means something. Today, an unnamed Seattle sportswriter whom we all respect, wrote an article which discussed team chemistry, accountability, and the new veteran presence on the ballclub. “Wakamatsu called it chemistry. Zduriencik called it trust. In spring training, they both talked about character.” Whether team chemistry causes winning or whether winning causes team chemistry is a classic chicken-and-egg debate between scouts and sabermetricians, “baseball guys” versus “stat guys.”

Numerous Seattle sports writers wrote about the bad chemistry reeking from the 2008 Mariners and blamed that in large part for the team’s failure on the field. However, often overlooked were the horrific starting pitching, pathetic bench, bad defense, or failure to walk or hit for power. If everyone on the Mariners was having a bad year, why blame chemistry? Why not blame the weather, the glare from center field, the jobs the batboys are doing, or the food in the clubhouse? All of those are equally good reasons as team chemistry, since there’s no evidence whatsoever that any of them is at fault.

What is team chemistry?

Anytime you get 25 people together, there are going to be cliques. Some players will like each other better than others. Players with common interests will gravitate towards each other. Pitchers tend to stick with pitchers. Hitters tend to be friendlier with hitters. Cliques can be formed on the basis of anything: race, religion, music, geography (country versus city, north or south, west or east coast), and so on. Also, there will be players who don’t like each other – which is a reality of having different personalities that must spend time together day-after-day in close quarters.

What is good chemistry?

The 1995 Mariners had it. The 2001 Mariners had it. The 2008 Rays had it. The Red Sox of recent years had it. Team chemistry is the different between a great team on paper and a great team on the field.

Does chemistry breed winning or does winning breed chemistry?

They say that if bad chemistry can make you lose, then good chemistry must help you win. If you win, you have good chemistry, if you lose, you have bad chemistry. Rigorous analysis offers a better explanation – teams that lose just aren’t very talented. Chemistry is probably dependent on field-success as anything else. The correlation is that they help each other. Good morale will help productivity and vice-versa. Obviously, putting together a team full of players who can’t stand each other is a poor formula for winning ball games. However, team morale and performance aren’t always related. There are plenty of baseball examples to draw from where teams won without great chemistry; winning teams who hate each other and losing teams that get along great. To quote the immortal Bill Lee: “Give me 25 assholes and I’ll show you a pennant winner.”

Chemistry is a misused term because it’s nearly impossible to measure. How do you define what constitutes “good chemistry” and how can you compile enough evidence to conclude that good chemistry cause team success and not the other way around? Being nice and friendly and getting along is great, but winning is decided by on-the-field talent than any emphasis on team chemistry. Good chemistry simply a byproduct of winning, not a cause.

An average team will have some people who exceed, meet, and fall short of their talent level regardless of what that talent might be. If you have a team where most of the talent has fallen short of their expected production, the fault doesn’t like with the players. It shows the Manager and coaches aren’t doing their jobs. Isn’t the manager paid to be the guy responsible for creating a winning atmosphere, filling out lineup cards, and putting his people in a position to succeed? The 2008 Mariners had a lethal combination of both: poor managers/coaches and poor talent that underperformed.

A good manager creates a winning atmosphere and puts his people in position to succeed. I think it's fair to call that chemistry. How do you build a great team? Draft well, trade veterans for prospects, buy low and sell high on players; in other words, stock a team with talent.

I’m not saying that chemistry isn’t real; I’m saying it’s a result, not a cause. Unfortunately, the team Chemistry debate takes the attention away from the real issues and ignores the fact that the 2008 Mariners were an ineptly put together club with declining veteran players (Richie Sexson, Jose Vidro) or overpaid veterans (Carlos Silva, Jerrod Washburn, Miguel Bautista, Kenji Johjima). Chemistry suggests that nine Willy Bloomquists behind five Ryan Rowland-Smiths can win the World Series if only they can get together for Parcheesi, sing Kumbaya together, or felt some love in the clubhouse.

The notion that you can field a team of scrappy players who like each other and play well enough together to defeat a more talented team, is appealing, sort of like Davis versus Goliath or the Bad News Bears.

Team chemistry is a meaningless term. No one ever talks about the great team chemistry of a sub. 500 team whose players all love to play for one another. It’s hard enough to make judgments about baseball players but when you start building in irrelevant factors such as “team chemistry”, the process of evaluation goes from difficult to impossible. The lesson learned for 2009 and beyond should be that you need a good nucleus of young players together and allow them to grow and improve. Guys like Felix Hernandez, Brandon Morrow, and perhaps Jose Lopez, Ryan Rowland-Smith, and Franky Gutierrez are a good start in that direction. If the front office can keep them together and add to that core, then the 2010 or 2011 Mariners might finally have a chance to truly compete.