The movie, and to a lesser extent the book, amplifies this debate, portraying Beane as Luke Skywalker and scouts as stormtroopers. That may make for higher drama, but it doesn’t really convey the truth and does something of a disservice to the real people involved.
Beane and Paul DePodesta, Beane’s top assistant during the time Lewis reported the book, weren’t focused on building a better mouse trap. They were simply trying to construct an affordable one. For them, it was never about man vs. machine, because “there are a lot of human emotions . . . that go into the decisions we make,” DePodesta said in a phone interview Monday. “There are human elements that go into the development of players.
“It’s probably a little dangerous if we just disregard that. On the other hand, there’s no question in my mind that the data is important. Virtually everybody in the industry at this point would agree.”
DePodesta wisely chose not to have his name attached to the movie, in which the character based on him is a shy and socially awkward geek. He’s someone who has no place in the sports world — except for what his big brain can offer the cool guys. Actor Jonah Hill did a fine job with the fictional character named Peter Brand, supposedly a composite of several Athletics assistants under Beane. In actuality, he’s DePodesta. Except he really isn’t — not the guy I know, anyway.
DePodesta, who grew up in Alexandria and attended St. Stephen’s and Episcopal High, joined the Athletics after scouting for the Cleveland Indians. The Harvard-educated DePodesta was a key figure in the book, a numbers-crunching whiz kid who provided the blueprint for Beane’s then-revolutionary approach. Utilizing sabermetrics, he helped Beane acquire players who helped Oakland reach the playoffs five times in an eight-year span that ended in 2006. In that period, the Athletics had winning records every year. Other teams with similar financial limitations struggled to finish .500.
When I was a young baseball beat writer in Los Angeles in 2004, DePodesta was a fast-rising baseball executive. After the Dodgers’ new owners failed to lure Beane from Oakland, they took his recommendation, hiring his top lieutenant. Then 31 years old, DePodesta became one of the youngest general managers in baseball history. Dealing with DePodesta on a daily basis, I quickly learned he was as smart as advertised.