It’s been an unseasonably warm winter in Boston, Massachusetts. Compared to last year, the sight of snow has gone from seeing sand at the beach to a legitimate event, and record temperature highs have turned would-be storms into the bittersweet downpours that everyone prefers when weighed against sluggishly falling out of bed an hour early to shovel out their cars. Locals have taken to the season with two different mindsets and a collective holding of their breath. One side sees it as the dodging of a bullet. Both January and February did their job and were spotless of snow; with the bulk of winter finished, maybe someone, somewhere is taking it easy on us. This is the optimistic crowd. The other side patiently waits for the other shoe to drop. It isn’t a matter of “if” the weather will turn for the worse but “when”. These are the realists.
Last Thursday night, on the eve of the 6th annual Sloan Sports Analytics Conference, snow finally began to fall throughout the city and its neighboring suburbs.
As approximately 2,200 men and women descended upon Boston’s Hynes Convention Center to participate in the most interesting, worthwhile, and innovative experience a fan of sports—and information pertaining to understanding all things athletics—can possibly endure, the snow was relegated to a conquered annoyance; dull elevator music. People appeared—despite the unpredictability of pesky Nimbostratus clouds—from all over the world, propelled by the small hope in the back of their head that by Sunday morning their life could be changed for the better. When a grand prize of knowledge and opportunity are presented as one, a near infinite amount of sheer will exists in people to go get them. It’s powerful stuff.
After directly investing about 25 hours beneath the SSAC’s literal roof, I offer this reaction with full confidence: When you combine a rare collection of brilliance with a single-minded yearning to learn, and let it permeate throughout halls and classrooms for two straight days, what you have is a one of a kind actuality. There’s nothing on Earth quite like this conference.
From the moment I stepped through the door, an indescribable excitement jolted through my bones. Everyone within eye sight was obsessed with sports. Everyone around me craved knowledge to help them better understand the very events that, in many ways, consume their lives. What this intuitive feeling told me was that in terms of guided interest and lust for total understanding, everyone was like me. The feeling was a little like college, except “sports” as its own being was the sole topic, and for me, that ambience was never before felt.
After registering and settling in, everyone was directed into the humongous ballroom, like an army of jovial zombies. The atmosphere had a quiet surreality about it, with people fidgeting in their seats, looking around the room with wide eyes that said “nobody pinch me.” From the opening panel to Mark Cuban’s delightful closing interview, the weekend was a whirlwind of innovative people delivering cutting-edge information. The best part? Top decision makers in almost every professional sports league you can think of were visibly transformed into students—including Rockets general manager Daryl Morey, a co-chairman and overall face of the event.
During a research paper presentation on Friday afternoon, I scoured the room for familiar faces. With the always important trade deadline on the horizon, I saw three NBA general managers who weren’t buried in their phones or whispering in their neighbor’s ear. No. Instead they were focused, clinging to the words of unknown teachers who’ve gone above and beyond in attempting to understand the ever complicated game of basketball.
(For the record, nine employees of the Houston Rockets were in attendance, not including Morey.)
Throughout the conference, several basketball related presentations were made. All were fantastic, but some had the hundreds of observers in attendance sitting quietly like school children, with hands on their laps and mouths wide open. They were special.
I sat with my notebook out through everything, jotting down more notes than I have since college. Simple sentences displayed on various power point presentations gave berth to thousands of little ideas throughout the room, and the dozens that trickled into my skull gave it the feeling of an over packed suitcase.
This was PhD graduates sitting beside high school students, with both of them sharing a common love and a genuine desire. Everyone was mutated into the role of student, and by Saturday evening we met the brisk New England air with a feeling that even though this pioneering conference had come to an end, the furthering of each first-rate idea had just begun.
