Just Because You're Stable, Doesn't Mean You're Normal

As so many traders discovered to their individual and often, regrettably, our collective cost over the past few years, betting against longshots, deliberately or implicitly, can be a very lucrative gig until an event you thought was a once-in-a-virtually-never affair crops up a couple of times in a week. And then a few more times again after that.

To put a footballing context on the topic, let's imagine that a friend puts the following proposition bet to you: if none of the first 100 home-and-away games next season includes one with a handicap-adjusted margin (HAM) for the home team of -150 or less he'll pay you $100; if there is one or more games with a HAM of -150 or less, however, you pay him $10,000.

For clarity, by "handicap-adjusted margin" I mean the number that you get if you subtract the away team's score from the home team's score and then add the home team's handicap. So, for example, if the home team was a 10.5 point favourite but lost 100-75, then the handicap adjusted margin would be 75-100-10.5, or -35.5 points.

A First Assessment

At first blush, does the bet seem fair?

We might start by relying on the availability heuristic and ask ourselves how often we can recall a game that might have produced a HAM of -150 or less. To make that a tad more tangible, how often can you recall a team losing by more than 150 points when it was roughly an equal favourite or by, say, 175 points when it was a 25-point underdog?

Almost never, I'd venture. So, offering 100/1 odds about this outcome occurring once or more in 100 games probably seems attractive.

Ahem ... the data?

Maybe you're a little more empirical than that and you'd like to know something about the history of HAMs. Well, since 2006, which is a period covering just under 1,000 games and that spans the entire extent - the whole hog, if you will - of my HAM data, there's never been a HAM under -150.

One game produced a -143.5 HAM; the next lowest after that was -113.5. Clearly then, the HAM of -143.5 was an outlier, and we'd need to see another couple of scoring shots on top of that effort in order to crack the -150 mark. That seems unlikely.

In short, we've never witnessed a HAM of -150 or less in about 1,000 games. On that basis, the bet's still looking good.

But didn't you once tell me that HAMs were Normal?

Before we commit ourselves to the bet, let's consider what else we know about HAMs.

Previously, I've claimed that HAMs seemed to follow a normal distribution and, in fact, the HAM data comfortably passes the Kolmogorov-Smirnov test of Normality (one of the few statistical tests I can think of that shares at least part of its name with the founder of a distillery).

Now technically the HAM data's passing this test means only that we can't reject the null hypothesis that it follows a Normal distribution, not that we can positively assert that it does. But given the ubiquity of the Normal distribution, that's enough prima facie evidence to proceed down this path of enquiry.

To do that we need to calculate a couple of summary statistics for the HAM data. Firstly, we need to calculate the mean, which is +2.32 points, and then we need to calculate the standard deviation, which is 36.97 points. A HAM of -150 therefore represents an event approximately 4.12 standard deviations from the mean.

If HAMs are Normal, that's certainly a once-in-a-very-long-time event. Specifically, it's an event we should expect to see only about every 52,788 games, which, to put it in some context, is almost exactly 300 times the length of the 2010 home-and-away season.

With a numerical estimate of the likelihood of seeing one such game we can proceed to calculate the likelihood of seeing one or more such game within the span of 100 games. The calculation is 1-(1-1/52,788)^100 or 0.19%, which is about 525/1 odds. At those odds you should expect to pay out that $10,000 about 1 time in 526, and collect that $100 on the 525 other occasions, which gives you an expected profit of $80.81 every time you take the bet.

That still looks like a good deal.

Does my tail look fat in this?

This latest estimate carries all the trappings of statistically soundness, but it does hinge on the faith we're putting in that 1 in 52,788 estimate, which, in turn hinges on our faith that HAMs are Normal. In the current instance this faith needs to hold not just in the range of HAMs that we see for most games - somewhere in the -30 to +30 range - but way out in the arctic regions of the distribution rarely seen by man, the part of the distribution that is technically called the 'tails'.

There are a variety of phenomena that can be perfectly adequately modelled by a Normal distribution for most of their range - financial returns are a good example - but that exhibit what are called 'fat tails', which means that extreme values occur more often than we would expect if the phenomenon faithfully followed a Normal distribution across its entire range of potential values. For most purposes 'fat tails' are statistically vestigial in their effect - they're an irrelevance. But when you're worried about extreme events, as we are in our proposition bet, they matter a great deal.

A class of distributions that don't get a lot of press - probably because the branding committee that named them clearly had no idea - but that are ideal for modelling data that might have fat tails are the Stable Distributions. They include the Normal Distribution as a special case - Normal by name, but abnormal within its family.

If we fit (using Maximum Likelihood Estimation if you're curious) a Stable Distribution to the HAM data we find that the best fit corresponds to a distribution that's almost Normal, but isn't quite. The apparently small difference in the distributional assumption - so small that I abandoned any hope of illustrating the difference with a chart - makes a huge difference in our estimate of the probability of losing the bet. Using the best fitted Stable Distribution, we'd now expect to see a HAM of -150 or lower about 1 game in every 1,578 which makes the likelihood of paying out that $10,000 about 7%.

Suddenly, our seemingly attractive wager has a -$607 expectation.

Since we almost saw - if that makes any sense - a HAM of -150 in our sample of under 1,000 games, there's some intuitive appeal in an estimate that's only a bit smaller than 1 in 1,000 and not a lot smaller, which we obtained when we used the Normal approximation.

Is there any practically robust way to decide whether HAMs truly follow a Normal distribution or a Stable Distribution? Given the sample that we have, not in the part of the distribution that matters to us in this instance: the tails. We'd need a sample many times larger than the one we have in order to estimate the true probability to an acceptably high level of certainty, and by then would we still trust what we'd learned from games that were decades, possibly centuries old?

Is There a Lesson in There Somewhere?

The issue here, and what inspired me to write this blog, is the oft-neglected truism - an observation that I've read and heard Nassim Taleb of "Black Swan" fame make on a number of occasions - that rare events are, well, rare, and so estimating their likelihood is inherently difficult and, if you've a significant interest in the outcome, financially or otherwise dangerous.

For many very rare events we simply don't have sufficiently large or lengthy datasets on which to base robust probability estimates for those events. Even where we do have large datasets we still need to justify a belief that the past can serve as a reasonable indicator of the future.

What if, for example, the Gold Coast team prove to be particularly awful next year and get thumped regularly and mercilessly by teams of the Cats' and the Pies' pedigrees? How good would you feel than about betting against a -150 HAM?

So when some group or other tells you that a potential catastrophe is a 1-in-100,000 year event, ask them what empirical basis they have for claiming this. And don't bet too much on the fact that they're right.

Which Teams Are Most Likely to Make Next Year's Finals?

I had a little time on a flight back to Sydney from Melbourne last Friday night to contemplate life's abiding truths. So naturally I wondered: how likely is it that a team finishing in ladder position X at the end of one season makes the finals in the subsequent season?

Here's the result for seasons 2000 to 2010, during which the AFL has always had a final 8:

When you bear in mind that half of the 16 teams have played finals in each season since 2000 this table is pretty eye-opening. It suggests that the only teams that can legitimately feel themselves to be better-than-random chances for a finals berth in the subsequent year are those that have finished in the top 4 ladder positions in the immediately preceding season. Historically, top 4 teams have made the 8 in the next year about 70% of the time - 100% of the time in the case of the team that takes the minor premiership.

In comparison, teams finishing 5th through 14th have, empirically, had roughly a 50% chance of making the finals in the subsequent year (actually, a tick under this, which makes them all slightly less than random chances to make the 8).

Teams occupying 15th and 16th have had very remote chances of playing finals in the subsequent season. Only one team from those positions - Collingwood, who finished 15th in 2005 and played finals in 2006 - has made the subsequent year's top 8.

Of course, next year we have another team, so that's even worse news for those teams that finished out of the top 4 this year.

Coast-to-Coast Blowouts: Who's Responsible and When Do They Strike?

Previously, I created a Game Typology for home-and-away fixtures and then went on to use that typology to characterise whole seasons and eras.

In this blog we'll use that typology to investigate the winning and losing tendencies of individual teams and to consider how the mix of different game types varies as the home-and-away season progresses.

First, let's look at the game type profile of each team's victories and losses in season 2010.

Five teams made a habit of recording Coast-to-Coast Comfortably victories this season - Carlton, Collingwood, Geelong, Sydney and the Western Bulldogs - all of them finalists, and all of them winning in this fashion at least 5 times during the season.

Two other finalists, Hawthorn and the Saints, were masters of the Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biter. They, along with Port Adelaide, registered four or more of this type of win.

Of the six other game types there were only two that any single team recorded on 4 occasions. The Roos managed four Quarter 2 Press Light victories, and Geelong had four wins categorised as Quarter 3 Press victories.

Looking next at loss typology, we find six teams specialising in Coast-to-Coast Comfortably losses. One of them is Carlton, who also appeared on the list of teams specialising in wins of this variety, reinforcing the point that I made in an earlier blog about the Blues' fate often being determined in 2010 by their 1st quarter performance.

The other teams on the list of frequent Coast-to-Coast Comfortably losers are, unsurprisingly, those from positions 13 through 16 on the final ladder, and the Roos. They finished 9th on the ladder but recorded a paltry 87.4 percentage, this the logical consequence of all those Coast-to-Coast Comfortably losses.

Collingwood and Hawthorn each managed four losses labelled Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters, and West Coast lost four encounters that were Quarter 2 Press Lights, and four more that were 2nd-Half Revivals where they weren't doing the reviving.

With only 22 games to consider for each team it's hard to get much of a read on general tendencies. So let's increase the sample by an order of magnitude and go back over the previous 10 seasons.

Adelaide's wins have come disproportionately often from presses in the 1st or 2nd quarters and relatively rarely from 2nd-Half Revivals or Coast-to-Coast results. They've had more than their expected share of losses of type Q2 Press Light, but less than their share of Q1 Press and Coast-to-Coast losses. In particular, they've suffered few Coast-to-Coast Blowout losses.

Brisbane have recorded an excess of Coast-to-Coast Comfortably and Blowout victories and less Q1 Press, Q3 Press and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters than might be expected. No game type has featured disproportionately more often amongst their losses, but they have had relatively few Q2 Press and Q3 Press losses.

Carlton has specialised in the Q2 Press victory type and has, relatively speaking, shunned Q3 Press and Coast-to-Coast Blowout victories. Their losses also include a disportionately high number of Q2 Press losses, which suggests that, over the broader time horizon of a decade, Carlton's fate has been more about how they've performed in the 2nd term. Carlton have also suffered a disproportionately high share of Coast-to-Coast Blowouts - which is I suppose what a Q2 Press loss might become if it gets ugly - yet have racked up fewer than the expected number of Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters and Coast-to-Coast Comfortablys. If you're going to lose Coast-to-Coast, might as well make it a big one.

Collingwood's victories have been disproportionately often 2nd-Half Revivals or Coast-to-Coast Blowouts and not Q1 Presses or Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters. Their pattern of losses has been partly a mirror image of their pattern of wins, with a preponderance of Q1 Presses and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters and a scarcity of 2nd-Half Revivals. They've also, however, had few losses that were Q2 or Q3 Presses or that were Coast-to-Coast Comfortablys.

Wins for Essendon have been Q1 Presses or Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters unexpectedly often, but have been Q2 Press Lights or 2nd-Half Revivals significantly less often than for the average team. The only game type overrepresented amongst their losses has been the Coast-to-Coast Comfortably type, while Coast-to-Coast Blowouts, Q1 Presses and, especially, Q2 Presses have been signficantly underrepresented.

Fremantle's had a penchant for leaving their runs late. Amongst their victories, Q3 Presses and 2nd-Half Revivals occur more often than for the average team, while Coast-to-Coast Blowouts are relatively rare. Their losses also have a disproportionately high showing of 2nd-Half Revivals and an underrepresentation of Coast-to-Coast Blowouts and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters. It's fair to say that Freo don't do Coast-to-Coast results.

Geelong have tended to either dominate throughout a game or to leave their surge until later. Their victories are disproportionately of the Coast-to-Coast Blowout and Q3 Press varieties and are less likely to be Q2 Presses (Regular or Light) or 2nd-Half Revivals. Losses have been Q2 Press Lights more often than expected, and Q1 Presses, Q3 Presses or Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters less often than expected.

Hawthorn have won with Q2 Press Lights disproportionately often, but have recorded 2nd-Half Revivals relatively infrequently and Q2 Presses very infrequently. Q2 Press Lights are also overrepresented amongst their losses, while Q2 Presses and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters appear less often than would be expected.

The Roos specialise in Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biter and Q2 Press Light victories and tend to avoid Q2 and Q3 Presses, as well as Coast-to-Coast Comfortably and Blowout victories. Losses have come disproportionately from the Q3 Press bucket and relatively rarely from the Q2 Press (Regular and Light) categories. The Roos generally make their supporters wait until late in the game to find out how it's going to end.

Melbourne heavily favour the Q2 Press Light style of victory and have tended to avoid any of the Coast-to-Coast varieties, especially the Blowout variant. They have, however, suffered more than their share of Coast-to-Coast comfortably losses, but less than their share of Coast-to-Coast Blowout and Q2 Press Light losses.

Port Adelaide's pattern of victories has been a bit like Geelong's. They too have won disproportionately often via Q3 Presses or Coast-to-Coast Blowouts and their wins have been underrepresented in the Q2 Press Light category. They've also been particularly prone to Q2 and Q3 Press losses, but not to Q1 Presses or 2nd-Half Revivals.

Richmond wins have been disproportionately 2nd-Half Revivals or Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters, and rarely Q1 or Q3 Presses. Their losses have been Coast-to-Coast Blowouts disproportionately often, but Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters and Q2 Press Lights relatively less often than expected.

St Kilda have been masters of the foot-to-the-floor style of victory. They're overrepresented amongst Q1 and Q2 Presses, as well as Coast-to-Coast Blowouts, and underrepresented amongst Q3 Presses and Coast-to-Coast Comfortablys. Their losses include more Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters than the average team, and fewer Q1 and Q3 Presses, and 2nd-Half Revivals.

Sydney's loss profile almost mirrors the average team's with the sole exception being a relative abundance of Q3 Presses. Their profile of losses, however, differs significantly from the average and shows an excess of Q1 Presses, 2nd-Half Revivals and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters, a relative scarcity of Q3 Presses and Coast-to-Coast Comfortably, and a virtual absence of Coast-to-Coast Blowouts.

West Coast victories have come disproportionately as Q2 Press Lights and have rarely been of any other of the Press varieties. In particular, Q2 Presses have been relatively rare. Their losses have all too often been Coast-to-Coast blowouts or Q2 Presses, and have come as Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biters relatively infrequently.

The Western Bulldogs have won with Coast-to-Coast Comfortablys far more often than the average team, and with the other two varieties of Coast-to-Coast victories far less often. Their profile of losses mirrors that of the average team excepting that Q1 Presses are somewhat underrepresented.

We move now from associating teams with various game types to associating rounds of the season with various game types.

You might wonder, as I did, whether different parts of the season tend to produce a greater or lesser proportion of games of particular types. Do we, for example, see more Coast-to-Coast Blowouts early in the season when teams are still establishing routines and disciplines, or later on in the season when teams with no chance meet teams vying for preferred finals berths?

For this chart, I've divided the seasons from 2001 to 2010 into rough quadrants, each spanning 5 or 6 rounds.

The Coast-to-Coast Comfortably game type occurs most often in the early rounds of the season, then falls away a little through the next two quadrants before spiking a little in the run up to the finals.

The pattern for the Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biter game type is almost the exact opposite. It's relatively rare early in the season and becomes more prevalent as the season progresses through its middle stages, before tapering off in the final quadrant.

Coast-to-Coast Blowouts occur relatively infrequently during the first half of the season, but then blossom, like weeds, in the second half, especially during the last 5 rounds when they reach near-plague proportions.

Quarter 1 and Quarter 2 Presses occur with similar frequencies across the season, though they both show up slightly more often as the season progresses. Quarter 2 Press Lights, however, predominate in the first 5 rounds of the season and then decline in frequency across rounds 6 to 16 before tapering dramatically in the season's final quadrant.

Quarter 3 Presses occur least often in the early rounds, show a mild spike in Rounds 6 to 11, and then taper off in frequency across the remainder of the season. 2nd-Half Revivals show a broadly similar pattern.

2010: Just How Different Was It?

Last season I looked at Grand Final Typology. In this blog I'll start by presenting a similar typology for home-and-away games.

In creating the typology I used the same clustering technique that I used for Grand Finals - what's called Partitioning Around Medoids, or PAM - and I used similar data. Each of the 13,144 home-and-away season games was characterised by four numbers: the winning team's lead at quarter time, at half-time, at three-quarter time, and at full time.

With these four numbers we can calculate a measure of distance between any pair of games and then use the matrix of all these distances to form clusters or types of games.

After a lot of toing, froing, re-toing anf re-froing, I settled on a typology of 8 game types:

Typically, in the Quarter 1 Press game type, the eventual winning team "presses" in the first term and leads by about 4 goals at quarter-time. At each subsequent change and at the final siren, the winning team typically leads by a little less than the margin it established at quarter-time. Generally the final margin is about about 3 goals. This game type occurs about 8% of the time.

In a Quarter 2 Press game type the press is deferred, and the eventual winning team typically trails by a little over a goal at quarter-time but surges in the second term to lead by four-and-a-half goals at the main break. They then cruise in the third term and extend their lead by a little in the fourth and ultimately win quite comfortably, by about six and a half goals. About 7% of all home-and-away games are of this type.

The Quarter 2 Press Light game type is similar to a Quarter 2 Press game type, but the surge in the second term is not as great, so the eventual winning team leads at half-time by only about 2 goals. In the second half of a Quarter 2 Press Light game the winning team provides no assurances for its supporters and continues to lead narrowly at three-quarter time and at the final siren. This is one of the two most common game types, and describes almost 1 in 5 contests.

Quarter 3 Press games are broadly similar to Quarter 1 Press games up until half-time, though the eventual winning team typically has a smaller lead at that point in a Quarter 3 Press game type. The surge comes in the third term where the winners typically stretch their advantage to around 7 goals and then preserve this margin until the final siren. Games of this type comprise about 10% of home-and-away fixtures.

2nd-Half Revival games are particularly closely fought in the first two terms with the game's eventual losers typically having slightly the better of it. The eventual winning team typically trails by less than a goal at quarter-time and at half-time before establishing about a 3-goal lead at the final change. This lead is then preserved until the final siren. This game type occurs about 13% of the time.

A Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biter is the game type that's the most fun to watch - provided it doesn't involve your team, especially if your team's on the losing end of one of these contests. In this game type the same team typically leads at every change, but by less than a goal to a goal and a half. Across history, this game type has made up about one game in six.

The Coast-to-Coast Comfortably game type is fun to watch as a supporter when it's your team generating the comfort. Teams that win these games typically lead by about two and a half goals at quarter-time, four and a half goals at half-time, six goals at three-quarter time, and seven and a half goals at the final siren. This is another common game type - expect to see it about 1 game in 5 (more often if you're a Geelong or a West Coast fan, though with vastly differing levels of pleasure depending on which of these two you support).

Coast-to-Coast Blowouts are hard to love and not much fun to watch for any but the most partial observer. They start in the manner of a Coast-to-Coast Comfortably game, with the eventual winner leading by about 2 goals at quarter time. This lead is extended to six and a half goals by half-time - at which point the word "contest" no longer applies - and then further extended in each of the remaining quarters. The final margin in a game of this type is typically around 14 goals and it is the least common of all game types. Throughout history, about one contest in 14 has been spoiled by being of this type.

Unfortunately, in more recent history the spoilage rate has been higher, as you can see in the following chart (for the purposes of which I've grouped the history of the AFL into eras each of 12 seasons, excepting the most recent era, which contains only 6 seasons. I've also shown the profile of results by game type for season 2010 alone).

The pies in the bottom-most row show the progressive growth in the Coast-to-Coast Blowout commencing around the 1969-1980 era and reaching its apex in the 1981-1992 era where it described about 12% of games.

In the two most-recent eras we've seen a smaller proportion of Coast-to-Coast Blowouts, but they've still occurred at historically high rates of about 8-10%.

We've also witnessed a proliferation of Coast-to-Coast Comfortably and Coast-to-Coast Nail-Biter games in this same period, not least of which in the current season where these game type descriptions attached to about 27% and 18% of contests respectively.

In total, almost 50% of the games this season were Coast-to-Coast contests - that's about 8 percentage points higher than the historical average.

Of the five non Coast-to-Coast game types, three - Quarter 2 Press, Quarter 3 Press and 2nd-half Revival - occurred at about their historical rates this season, while Quarter 1 Press and Quarter 2 Press Light game types both occurred at about 75-80% of their historical rates.

The proportion of games of each type in a season can be thought of as a signature of that season. being numeric, they provide a ready basis on which to measure how much one season is more or less like another. In fact, using a technique called principal components analysis we can use each season's signature to plot that season in two-dimensional space (using the first two principal components).

Here's what we get:

I've circled the point labelled "2010", which represents the current season. The further away is the label for another season, the more different is that season's profile of game types in comparison to 2010's profile.

So, for example, 2009, 1999 and 2005 are all seasons that were quite similar to 2010, and 1924, 1916 and 1958 are all seasons that were quite different. The table below provides the profile for each of the seasons just listed; you can judge the similarity for yourself.

Signatures can also be created for eras and these signatures used to represent the profile of game results from each era. If you do this using the eras as I've defined them, you get the chart shown below.

One way to interpret this chart is that there have been 3 super-eras in VFL/AFL history, the first spanning the seasons from 1897 to 1920, the second from 1921-1980, and the third from 1981-2010. In this latter era we seem to be returning to the profiles of the earliest eras, which was a time when 50% or more of all results were Coast-to-Coast game types.

Season 2010: An Assessment of Competitiveness

For many, the allure of sport lies in its uncertainty. It's this instinct, surely, that motivated the creation of the annual player drafts and salary caps - the desire to ensure that teams don't become unbeatable, that "either team can win on the day".

Objective measures of the competitiveness of AFL can be made at any of three levels: teams' competition wins and losses, the outcome of a game, or the in-game trading of the lead.

With just a little pondering, I came up with the following measures of competitiveness at the three levels; I'm sure there are more.

We've looked at most - maybe all - of the Competition and Game level measures I've listed here in blogs or newsletters of previous seasons. I'll leave any revisiting of these measures for season 2010 as a topic for a future blog.

The in-game measures, though, are ones we've not explicitly explored, though I think I have commented on at least one occasion this year about the surprisingly high proportion of winning teams that have won 1st quarters and the low proportion of teams that have rallied to win after trailing at the final change.

As ever, history provides some context for my comments.

The red line in this chart records the season-by-season proportion of games in which the same team has led at every change. You can see that there's been a general rise in the proportion of such games from about 50% in the late seventies to the 61% we saw this year.

In recent history there have only been two seasons where the proportion of games led by the same team at every change has been higher: in 1995, when it was almost 64%, and in 1985 when it was a little over 62%. Before that you need to go back to 1925 to find a proportion that's higher than what we've seen in 2010.

The green, purple and blue lines track the proportion of games for which there were one, two, and the maximum possible three lead changes respectively. It's also interesting to note how the lead-change-at-every-change contest type has progressively disappeared into virtual non-existence over the last 50 seasons. This year we saw only three such contests, one of them (Fremantle v Geelong) in Round 3, and then no more until a pair of them (Fremantle v Geelong and Brisbane v Adelaide) in Round 20.

So we're getting fewer lead changes in games. When, exactly, are these lead changes not happening?

Pretty much everywhere, it seems, but especially between the ends of quarters 1 and 2.

The top line shows the proportion of games in which the team leading at half time differs from the team leading at quarter time (a statistic that, as for all the others in this chart, I've averaged over the preceding 10 years to iron out the fluctuations and better show the trend). It's been generally falling since the 1960s excepting a brief period of stability through the 1990s that recent seasons have ignored, the current season in particular during which it's been just 23%.

Next, the red line, which shows the proportion of games in which the team leading at three-quarter time differs from the team leading at half time. This statistic has declined across the period roughly covering the 1980s through to 2000, since which it has stabilised at about 20%.

The navy blue line shows the proportion of games in which the winning team differs from the team leading at three-quarter time. Its trajectory is similar to that of the red line, though it doesn't show the jaunty uptick in recent seasons that the red line does.

Finally, the dotted, light-blue line, which shows the overall proportion of quarters for which the team leading at one break was different from the team leading at the previous break. Its trend has been downwards since the 1960s though the rate of decline has slowed markedly since about 1990.

All told then, if your measure of AFL competitiveness is how often the lead changes from the end of one quarter to the next, you'd have to conclude that AFL games are gradually becoming less competitive.

It'll be interesting to see how the introduction of new teams over the next few seasons affects this measure of competitiveness.