Tag Archives: Michael Phelps

Yesterday, Norwegian Ole Einar Bjørndalen became the most decorated winter Olympian in history, winning his eighth gold medal in the mixed relay, a new Olympic event in the biathlon. He now stands alone atop the list of individual success…in the winter. American Michael Phelps still towers over Olympians at large; why, Phelps won eight gold medals in the Beijing games alone. Who has the most impressive individual Olympic performance: Bjørndalen or Phelps?

Ole Einar Bjørndalen

In the north, one learns to never f%&$ with someone who can both out-ski and out-shoot you.

Michael Fred Phelps II

Whereas further south people are like “Skiing…on the water?”

Individual Medal Count

For both athletes, there is their individual medal count, and then their individual-medal count. Bjørndalen won eight golds, four silvers, and one bronze; his golds tie for the most and his total medals are the most of any winter Olympian. Phelps won 18 golds (freak), two silvers, and two bronze; his 18 golds are the most of any Olympian by far (next closest is nine from Soviet gymnast Larisa Latynina), and his 22 total medals are the most by four (also ahead of Latynina).

But then, many of those medals came in relays and team events. Group medals should not be forgotten, but they go beyond the control of one person, even if that one person is Michael Phelps. Remember this?

In purely individual events, Phelps has 11 Olympic golds (second-most is 8 from American Ray Ewry in the early 1900s), one silver, and one bronze; his 13 total rank second-most (yes, behind Latynina). Bjørndalen has five individual golds, tied for 11th-most of all Olympians, and tied for 2nd among winter Olympians. With three silvers and one bronze, his nine individual medals rank tied for 5th among all Olympians, tied for 2nd among winter Olympians (with his countryman Bjørn Dæhlie; it pays to be Bjørn).


Inspired by Tuesday’s “What If?” XKCD, Fermi estimation will guide this segment. Fifty-one nations have won 1,561 medals in Olympic swimming, beginning with the first summer Olympics in 1900. Twenty-one nations have won 190 medals in Olympic biathlon, beginning with the official introduction of the event in 1960. Curiously, in the most recent Olympics, about 40 men contested both the 100 meter swim and the 20K individual biathlon. Forgetting differences between men and women, changes over time, etc, on average assume a biathlon and a swimming event have 40 competitors at the Olympic level.

How about the competition in getting to the Olympics? Both sports certainly require gear, facilities, and exposure inaccessible to most throughout the world. Likely there are more aspiring swimmers than biathletes in the United States, though perhaps not in Norway.1 Worldwide, perhaps twice as many people try to compete in swimming than biathlon, per country, on average. And say one percent of all competitors make it to the Olympics. (Likely it is much less, but no matter.)

Roughly, that is 51 swimming countries times 11 individual events Phelps won times 40 Olympic competitors per event times 100 for non-Olympic competitors times two for swimming =

51 * 11 * 40 * 100 * 2 = 4 million competitors (with double counting due to crossover between different events) whom Phelps bested in his 11 individual gold medals.

For overall medals (51 * 13 * 40 * 100 * 2), Phelps’ competition pool was maybe 5 million competitors.

For Bjørndalen, his “golden” competitors total some 0.4 million and his total competitors total roughly 0.8 million. Even dropping the “swimming is twice as popular” assumption, Phelps’ competition would seemingly still be double Bjørndalen’s.


Phelps participated in the Sydney 2000 games, before winning medals in Athens 2004, Beijing 2008, and London 2012, after which he retired from Olympic competition. Bjørndalen participated in the Lillehammer 1994 games, before winning medals in Nagano 1998, Salt Lake City 2002, Turin 2006, Vancouver 2010, and Sochi 2014 (whew!). Bjørndalen won Olympic medals, indeed Olympic golds, for a period eight years longer than Phelps did. Biathletes and swimmers age differently, but Bjørndalen still fended off progressively younger challengers through his 40th birthday.

Is that unusual? Of the 20 Olympians who have eight or more medals in individual events, only 4 (including Bjørndalen) did so over more than eight years. Bjørndalen is the only one of those individuals to win medals (and gold medals) 16 years apart. This cuts both ways; he had more Olympics to win medals in, but he also kept performing at an elite level for sixteen years.

And as they come to the finish, it is…

Michael Phelps, by a nose! Or one one-hundredth of a second, whatever.

Ultimately, Phelps’ dominance–11 individual gold medals–over millions of swimmers around the world for eight whole years is too extreme to ignore. Bjørndalen will always be attached to the modifier: winter Olympian. Being Norwegian, he is probably okay with it.

  1. Norway has one silver and one bronze in 100+ years of Olympic swimming. Norway has 12 golds, 18 silvers, and 9 bronze in 54 years of Olympic biathlon. 

First off I’d like to dedicate this column to Bill Barnwell, writer at Grantland, who has been pushing a nomentum agenda heavily in his columns this NFL season. After “momentum” came up a couple of times in my first Sh*t Announcers Say post, I thought I’d touch upon it a bit more, in a slightly different light. I’m not going to offer a bunch of numbers; plenty of people have already done that.1 No, I’m going to look at momentum theoretically.2

We sports fans have a lot of theories. We love our theories. We have theories for why that $*&%bird referee made a certain call when he did, what enabled Lebron James to finally win a championship (two of them, actually), and how the Fear the Beard movement propelled the Red Sox to their third world series title in ten years. Milorad Cavic and many others have their theories about Michael Phelps’ touch-out in the 2008 100-meter men’s butterfly Olympic final. Some theories even rise to such prominence that they get names, such as Dave Cirilli’s Ewing Theory. Personally, I have theories about which articles I read covering the 49ers during the week will help them play the best on Sunday3, and when they scored twice to take a 20-14 lead over the Saints in the fourth quarter last week, just after a friend had come over for a little bit, I almost begged him not to leave his seat on the couch.4 We see things, and we try to explain them. Conceptually, it’s like a science. We sports fans are just a little more fanatical about it, that’s all.

Unfortunately, that’s the problem. Struggling for objectivity is boring and lame, but it isn’t like science: It is science! When you watch a game and the momentum shifts in your team’s favor, and you go on to win, it sticks in your mind. “The game totally hinged on that play!” we say. “After that, we knew they couldn’t stop us. You could see it.” When you watch a game and the momentum shifts in your team’s favor, but they go on to lose (or the “momentum” shifts back), it’s forgotten or dismissed. “We had something going, but the game got out of hand.” But just because a team’s momentum didn’t come through once doesn’t mean it’s not responsible for all the times they actually won. After all, theoretically it makes sense, right? That team was in the zone! After that play they knew they were going to win. It was a huge confidence boost, and they put the other guys back on their heels.5

Forget sports (just for a second, don’t worry) and think about a coin flip. Say it’s a fair coin, and you flip heads two times in a row. Does the coin have momentum? Is the coin more likely to come up heads on the next flip? You’re smart, you know the answer is no. It’s just a coin! A fair coin, at that. It’ll come up heads 50% of the time and tails 50% of the time. Even if the coin wasn’t fair, there still wouldn’t be any momentum. If you knew a coin flipped heads 75% of the time, but while flipping there was a run of three tails in a row, would you next bet on heads or tails? Heads, of course. It comes up 75% of the time.6 If you think momentum plays a role in a coin flip, you may be beyond help. But if you agree it doesn’t, you’ve got to agree that momentum plays no role in sports as well.


In statistics (like, 101, don’t worry, it’s super simple) we say events are either independent or dependent. Coin flips are independent of each other. The outcome of one event does not change the probabilities of the outcomes of any of the others. Two events that would be dependent are whether I wear a rain jacket and whether or not it is raining. The probability that I wear a rain jacket increases dramatically when it is raining.

So sports. Does the outcome of a certain play, or game, or season, change the probabilities of the outcomes of other plays, or games, or seasons? The 49ers just gained a first down. Are they now more (or less) likely to gain another first down than they were before gaining the original first down? Or, the 49ers just won three games. Are they now more (or less) likely to win the fourth game than they would be otherwise? No and no. No! This is not to say the 49ers (and their opponents) are static. The 49ers may have figured out the other team’s defense. That would improve their chances of gaining a first down. They may have gotten better at playing football. That would improve their chances of winning. Those improvements may be reflected in outcomes (gaining a first down, winning a game), as outcomes are certainly dependent on those improvements. But those improvements are not “momentum”! Future outcomes are not the product of prior ones; they’re a product of what the team is doing. The outcomes themselves are independent of one another.

BUT, you say, WHAT THE TEAM IS DOING DEPENDS ON THEIR PREVIOUS OUTCOMES! Sure, teams respond to what’s happened, and may change their strategy, use different players, employ different techniques, etc. And that’s exactly my point. It’s that process, of evaluating performance and making changes, that drives outcomes.

*Hey, over here! Say we have a fair coin that flips heads 50% of the time. We’re having a coin flipping contest (whoo!) and at halftime, we switch to a weighted coin that flips heads 75% of the time. In the second half we flip heads twice in a row. Are we more likely to flip heads on our third flip than we were on our flips in the first half? Yes. Is it because we flipped heads the last two times? No. It’s because this coin comes up heads 25% more often. The probability of flipping heads was 50%, but now it’s 75%, and we’re seeing the difference.

*Say the 49ers offense scores a touchdown against the Rams (whom we7 play this weekend) 50% of the time. At the end of the first half Robert Quinn is injured, also the 49ers have discovered Alec Ogletree and JoLonn Dunbar get out of position on screen passes. These changes improve the 49ers chances of scoring a touchdown to 75%. They come out of half time and score touchdowns on their first two possessions. Are the 49ers more likely to score on their third possession than they were on their possessions in the first half? Yes. Is it because they scored on their last two possessions? No. It’s because Robert Quinn is injured and they are now exploiting Ogletree’s and Dunbar’s weaknesses! The probability of scoring a touchdown was 50%, but now it’s 75%, and we’re seeing the difference.

That’s all football is. Theoretically, that’s all sports are: a coin flip, and the weight of the coin is always changing. Players practice (and take performance enhancing drugs) to weight the coin in their favor. Head coaches spend hours reviewing tape and game planning to weight the coin in their favor. Peyton Manning makes adjustments at the line of scrimmage to weight the coin in his favor. There are no guarantees, and there are a lot of coins. The probability of Dustin Pedroia getting on base coin. The Lebron James free throw coin. The Landon Donovan penalty kick coin. The Jim Harbaugh challenge coin. There are a lot of coins, and they all contribute to The Coin, the probability of winning coin. It could be weighted heavily towards your opponent, as was the 2008 Detroit Lions coin, or strongly in your favor, as was the 2007 New England Patriots coin. But no matter what you do (as those same Patriots would be sure to remind you), the outcome of The Coin is never 100% certain.

So the game starts and maybe the 49ers will score a touchdown 30% of the time against the Rams. After one drive the Rams change their coverage, weighting the coin in their favor, down to 28%. The 49ers try a new wrinkle, weighting the coin in their favor to 31%. Vernon Davis misses a couple drives with a cramp, weighting the coin down to 22%. So it goes. On and on. And if you think looking at the numbers like that takes the fun out of sports, get some glasses, because you’re seeing sports all wrong. Those changes– the freak occurrences, the constant adjustments in preparation and strategy– are what make sports great. And fun. Win or lose.

  1. Again, to get you started, check out the Hot-Hand fallacy. Also a more friendly Bill Barnwell Grantland piece. And an even friendlier New York Times piece
  2. Jeez, it’s almost like I went to a college where a bunch of people wore “That’s all well and good in practice… but how does it work in theory?” t-shirts. Oh wait, I did! Long live Thompson House, and our blessed cake business! 
  3. Surely reading all of Matt Maiocco’s content before kickoff demonstrates my love as a fan, and will be rewarded? Though actually, I didn’t get to all of it before they beat Washington on Monday. But whatever. 
  4. He did, and the 49ers never scored again, losing 23-20. SEE WHAT I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH? 
  5. They made a statement! Changed the complexion of the game. Dictated the game. Took the driver’s seat. Could smell blood.  Answered the call. Started to make some noise. Fired on all cylinders. Hit their stride. Hit a turning point. Turned the corner. Turned the tide. Set the tone. Raised the bar. Played with swagger. Played with a sense of urgency. Were on a mission. Were off to the races. Made a stand up play. Made a gutsy play. Made a textbook play. I could go on… 
  6. An obligatory link to the Gambler’s Fallacy. Three tails in a row doesn’t make heads any more likely either. 
  7. Yes, I say “we” frequently when talking about the team I root for, in this case the San Francisco 49ers. My San Francisco 49ers. Who are (obviously) Jed York’s San Francisco 49ers. Get over it. 
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