EPL: Mid-Season Review

Going into the November international break, Liverpool are eight points ahead at the top of the Premier League. Defending champions Manchester City have slipped to fourth place following their loss to Liverpool. The question most commentators are asking is if Liverpool can hold on to this lead.

We are two-thirds of the way through the first round robin of the premier league. The thing with evaluating league standings midway through the round robin is that it doesn’t account for the fixture list. For example, Liverpool have finished playing the rest of the “big six” (or seven, if you include Leicester), but Manchester City have many games to go among the top teams.

So my practice over the years has been to compare team performance to corresponding fixtures in the previous season, and to look at the points difference. Then, assuming the rest of the season goes just like last year, we can project who is likely to end up where.

Now, relegation and promotion introduces a source of complication, but we can “solve” that by replacing last season’s relegated teams with this season’s promoted teams (18th by Championship winners, 19th by Championship runners-up, and 20th by Championship playoff winners).

It’s not the first time I’m doing this analysis. I’d done it once in 2013-14, and once in 2014-15. You will notice that the graphs look similar as well – that’s how lazy I am.

Anyways, this is the points differential thus far compared to corresponding fixtures of last season. 

 

 

 

Leicester are the most improved team from last season, having scored 8 points more than in corresponding fixtures from last season. Sheffield United, albeit starting from a low base, have done extremely well as well. And last season’s runners-up Liverpool are on a plus 6.

The team that has done worst relative to last season is Tottenham Hotspur, at minus 13. Key players entering the final years of their contract and not signing extensions, and scanty recruitment over the last 2-3 years, haven’t helped. And then there is Manchester City at minus 9!

So assuming the rest of the season’s fixtures go according to last season’s corresponding fixtures, what will the final table look  like at the end of the season?
We see that if Liverpool replicate their results from last season for the rest of the fixtures, they should win the league comfortably.

What is more interesting is the gaps between 1-2, 2-3 and 3-4. Each of the top three positions is likely to be decided “comfortably”, with a fairly congested mid-table.

As mentioned earlier, this kind of analysis is unfair to the promoted teams. It is highly unlikely that Sheffield will get relegated based on the start they’ve had.

We’ll repeat this analysis after a couple of months to see where the league stands!

Anuroop

Anuroop and I first met when we were three and a half years old. It was way too early in life to know what our first meeting was like, but I do remember that we used to play together in school. Back then, “playing” mostly consisted of running around the residential building that our school used for one section of kindergarten.

However, I think his leadership skills were on display rather early, as I clearly remember another classmate asking when we were five or six whether I was “part of Bunty gang or Anuroop gang”. I don’t remember which gang I was part of then, but over the years, Bunty and Anuroop ended up in the same gang, as other poles emerged in class to take the other side.

Some sort of leadership skill was also evident in fifth or sixth standard, when Bunty and Anuroop decided to run away from school, literally. I can’t comment too much about this incident since I myself had bunked school that day, but I heard that they stepped out during lunch break on the pretext of fetching a stray ball, and ended up walking all the way to Bannerghatta. And then, the story goes (I don’t have first hand information on this) that they started feeling hungry and decided to walk back to their respective homes.

I will leave out talking about what formed a rather large part of Anuroop’s life in our latter years together in school, and his college years. I’m skipping talking about this because I think it’s impolite to talk about that on a day when he is getting married – so I will let you infer what kind of episodes I’m leaving out of this essay. However, you can get in touch with me off the record, and I think these episodes are worth a “three beer conversation”. Among other things, it involves the usage of dictionaries and phone caller IDs (which was a big thing in the days of landlines).

Ninth or tenth standard was around the time when Anuroop and KK and I formed a “club” called NBA (Nammoora Basketball Aatagaararu). We would all get to school early in the morning (two hours before it opened), and spend our time playing half-court basketball. Ninth standard was also the time when I remember having some fight with Anuroop that started trivially, but ended with me getting really physically aggressive. I take this opportunity t0 (highly belatedly) apologise to him for that.

Anuroop had always been good at drawing. And he took it to another level in ninth standard when he started drawing cartoons. I clearly remember his first ever political cartoon – it showed the then Prime Minister HD Deve Gowda sitting on a donkey, and (the then Congress President) Sitaram Kesri lighting the donkey’s tail on fire. I really don’t know if he has preserved that drawing. It’s a classic, let me assure you.

His cartooning went to another level when he was in college, as he won inter-college competitions left, right and centre. I remember this fest at PESIT (in 2001, I think), where he was pissed off because he had won the cartooning contest and got “only” ?150. I had come second in the (much better funded) programming contest and won ?2500 or something.

After college, Anuroop gave up on cartooning and took up wildlife photography. This was possibly a consequence of his passion for wildlife that had started from an early age (in ninth standard, he had gotten into a major fight with another classmate after the latter killed a leech). Trust me, his pictures are absolutely brilliant.

Somewhere in between, I remember asking him if he will stick to photographing wild animals, or if he would take on more lucrative professions such as wedding photography. “I’d rather take pictures of monkeys than humans”, he had declared, before getting into people photography anyway. And he has done a spectacular job of that as well (OK this instagram account is private, because it has pictures of children, I guess).

I’ve known him for over 33 years now, so however much I write, there will always be something or the other I would have left out. I will end with a couple of anecdotes. Ok the first is not really an anecdote – in his school days, Anuroop was an incredibly early sleeper. If you called his house any time after 9, you could at best expect one of his parents to pick and inform you that “puTTu” had gone to bed. Soon we had all learned better to finish our business with him earlier in the evening.

The other story comes from our 10th standard pre-board preparatory exam, when we had copied from each other liberally (thus defeating the purpose of these pre-boards). I remember there was this one question on “habit forming substances” and their ill effects. Anuroop thought it was a bright idea to copy from KK, and asked him what the answer to this question was. KK put a thumb to his lips, indicating drink, specifically alcohol.

However, alcohol is something very foreign to Anuroop (I don’t think he has ever consumed it), so he decided to interpret it as water. And he wrote a 1000 word essay on “habitat forming substances” and on water conservation and all such. He’s always been goofy like that.

He is getting married today, to Chetna. I wish I could have been there in Jalandhar for their wedding, but a combination of circumstances means I wasn’t able to travel. I wish them all the best, and a happy married life. In any case, I’m not missing their wedding completely. They have another “leg” in Bangalore next weekend, and I’ll surely be there for that.

And maybe Chetna will buy me those three beers sometime, even if it’s a habit forming substance.

Lullabies and walled gardens

There’s still a bit of walled gardens going on in the device and voice control space. About two years ago, in London, we acquired an Amazon Echo, and found that Alexa voice assistant could be used to play songs through either Spotify or Amazon Music, but not through Apple Music, which we then used.

And so, we got rid of Apple Music and took a subscription to Spotify. And among the things we would make Alexa do was to play the daughter’s lullabies on Spotify. And that is how, at the age of two, Berry spoke her first complete sentence, “Alexa, use Spotify to play Iron Man by Black Sabbath”.

We don’t have that Echo any more, and as a household are in a complete “apple ecosystem” as far as devices are concerned. Two Macs, two iPhones, an iPad and now a pair of AirPods. However, we had quite got used to Spotify and its playlists and its machine learning, and even though the India catalogue is nowhere as good as the one in the UK, we continued our subscription.

However, bands such as Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and Iron Maiden are critical for us, not least because their songs are part of the daughter’s sleeping portfolio. So we need something other than Spotify. And then we discovered that in India, Amazon Prime Music comes bundled with the Amazon Prime membership. And so we created the daughter’s sleeping playlist there, and started using it for bands not available on Spotify.

It was an uncomfortable arrangement, not least because Amazon Music is a terrible software product. Since family subscriptions are still not a thing with Spotify India, during periods of deep work the wife and I would fight over who would get Spotify and who had to make do with Amazon Music.

And then there is voice. Being in a complete Apple EcoSystem now, we found that Siri couldn’t control Spotify or Amazon Music, and for seamless voice experience (especially given I use it in car, using Apple Carplay) we needed Apple Music. And given how painful Amazon Music is to use, I thought spending ?149 a month on Apple Music Family Subscription is worth it, and took the subscription yesterday.

Since then I’ve been happily using it using voice control on all devices. Except until an hour back when I was putting the daughter to sleep. She requested for “baby has he”, which is her way of saying she wants Iron Man by Rockabye Baby (rather than by Black Sabbath). And so I held down the home button of the iPad and barked “play lullaby renditions of Black Sabbath”.

I don’t know what Siri interpreted (this is a standard command I’d been giving it back in the day when I used to exclusively use Apple Music), but rather than playing Lullaby Renditions of Black Sabbath, it played some “holy lullabies”, basically lullaby versions of some Christian songs. I tried changing but the daughter insisted that I let it be.

And so she kept twisting and turning in her bed, not going to sleep. I soon lost patience. Abandoning voice, I opened the iPad and switched from Apple Music to Spotify, where I knew the Rockabye Baby album was open (from last night – we hardly use the iPad otherwise nowadays), and started playing that.

Before Iron Man was halfway through, the daughter was fast asleep.

Yet another “big data whisky”

A long time back I had used a primitive version of my Single Malt recommendation app to determine that I’d like Ardbeg. Presently, the wife was travelling to India from abroad, and she got me a bottle. We loved it.

And so I had screenshots from my app stored on my phone all the time, to be used while at duty frees, so I would know what whiskies to buy.

And then about a year back, we started planning a visit to Scotland. If you remember, we were living in London then, and my wife’s cousin and her family were going to visit us over Christmas. And the plan was to go to the Scottish Highlands for a few days. And that had to include a distillery tour.

Out came my app again, to determine which distillery to visit. I had made a scatter plot (which I have unfortunately lost since) with the distance from Inverness (where we were going to be based) on one axis, and the likelihood of my wife and I liking a whisky (based on my app) on the other (by this time, Ardbeg was firmly in the “calibration set”).

The clear winner was Clynelish – it was barely 100 kilometers away from Inverness, promised a nice drive there, and had a very high similarity score to the stuff that we liked. I presently called them to make a booking for a distillery tour. The only problem was that it’s a Diageo distillery, and Diageo distillery doesn’t allow kids inside (we were travelling with three of them).

I was proud of having planned my vacation “using data science”. I had made up a blog post in my head that I was going to write after the vacation. I was basically picturing “turning around to the umpire and shouting ‘howzzat'”. And then my hopes were dashed.

A week after I had made the booking, I got a call back from the distillery informing me that it was unfortunately going to be closed during our vacation, and so we couldn’t visit. My heart sank. We finally had to make do with two distilleries that were pretty close to Inverness, but which didn’t rate highly according to my app.

My cousin-in-law-in-law and I first visited Glen Ord, another Diageo distillery, leaving our wives and kids back in the hotel. The tour was nice, but the whisky at the distillery was rather underwhelming. The high point was the fact that Glen Ord also supplies highly peated malt to other Diageo distilleries such as Clynelish (which we couldn’t visit) and Talisker (one of my early favourites).

A day later, we went to the more family friendly Tomatin distillery, to the south of Inverness (so we could carry my daughter along for the tour. She seemed to enjoy it. The other kids were asleep in the car with their dad). The tour seemed better there, but their flagship whisky seemed flat. And then came Cu Bocan, a highly peated whisky that they produce in very limited quantities and distribute in a limited fashion.

Initially we didn’t feel anything, but then the “smoke hit from the back”. Basically the initial taste of the whisky was smooth, but as you swallowed it, the peat would hit you. It was incredibly surreal stuff. We sat at the distillery’s bar for a while downing glasses full of Cu Bocan.

The cousin-in-law-in-law quickly bought a bottle to take back to Singapore. We dithered, reasoning we could “use Amazon to deliver it to our home in London”. The muhurta for the latter never arrived, and a few months later we were on our way to India. Travelling with six suitcases and six handbags and a kid meant that we were never going to buy duty free stuff on our way home (not that Cu Bocan was available in duty free).

In any case, Clynelish is also not widely available in duty free shops, so we couldn’t have that as well for a long time. And then we found an incredibly well stocked duty free shop in Maldives, on our way back from our vacation there in August. A bottle was duly bought.

And today the auspicious event arrived for the bottle to be opened. And it’s spectacular. A very different kind of peat than Lagavulin (a bottle of which we just finished yesterday). This one hits the mouth from both the front and the back.

And I would like to call Clynelish the “new big data whisky”, having discovered it through my app, almost going there for a distillery tour, and finally tasting it a year later.

Highly recommended! And I’d highly recommend my app as well!

Cheers!

Arzoos

Founders, once they have a successful exit, tend to treat themselves as Gods.

Investors bow to them, and possibly recruit them into their investment teams. Startups flock to them, in the hope that they might use their recently gained wealth to invest in these companies. Having produced one successful exit, people assume that these people have “cracked the startup game”.

And so even if they have started humbly after their exit, all this adulation, and the perceived to potentially make or break a company by pulling out their chequebooks, goes to their head and the successful exit founders start treating themselves as Gods. And they believe that their one successful exit, which might have come for whatever reason (including a healthy dose of luck), makes them an authority to speak on pretty much any topic under the sun.

Now, I’m not grudging their money. There would have been something in the companies that they built, including timing or luck, even, that makes these people deserving of all the money they’ve made. What irritates me is their attitude of “knowing the mantra to be successful”, which allows them to comment on pretty much any issue or company, thinking people will take them seriously.

Recently I’ve come up with a word to represent all these one-time-successful founders who then flounder while dispensing advice – “Arzoos”.

The name of course alludes to Arzoo.com, which Sabeer Bhatia started after selling Hotmail to Microsoft. He had made a massive exit, and was one of the poster children of the dotcom boom (before the bust), especially in his native India. Except that the next company he started (Arzoo) sank without a trace to the extent that nobody even knows (or remembers) what the company did.

There is a huge dose of luck involved in making a small company successful, and that someone had a good exit doesn’t necessarily mean that they are great businessmen. As a corollary, that someone’s startup failed doesn’t make them bad businessmen.

Then again, it is part of human nature that we attribute all our successes to skill, and all our failures to bad luck!

 

iPhone

For a long time I eschewed iPhones. The form factor didn’t appeal to me. They were too fat for their size. And so I went with a series of Androids that started slowing down insanely after one OS update. And then the iPhone 6 changed that.

This had a remarkably different form factor to its predecessors. It was thin. It was big (not even the Max version). I saw some relatives using it at a family function and knew that it was the right time to try an iPhone. I bought an iPhone 6S, and still continue to use it, and have no problems with it at all.

My wife had bought an iPhone 6S at the same time as me, and that was doing well as well, until a freak accident a couple of months back. That meant she needed a new phone, and having never used an Android (she jumped “directly” from a cheap Nokia to iPhone 4), decided to get an iPhone.

The iPhone 11 arrived on Friday, brought to us by the sister-in-law. It’s big. Much bigger than my 6S. It has many cameras, and very evidently there is a significant amount of software processing that goes into shooting each photo.

And the photos are brilliant. Through the long weekend (Friday was a state holiday) we were at a wedding, and I kept borrowing this phone from my wife to take pictures (even the sister-in-law, who uses its predecessor XR, kept borrowing the 11 to take pictures)  – often enough to annoy the wife.

But I don’t know what it is with this iPhone, but it seems to “look like an Android”. Maybe it’s the case that we got in a hurry (cheapest on on Amazon). Maybe it’s that we haven’t yet removed the film covering the front. Maybe it’s the size. Maybe it’s the Wi-Fi indicator on the top right rather than top left. But for now I’m yet to “accept” it as an iPhone.

As things stand now, I intend to continue with my 6S for as long as it goes. Hopefully this won’t have a freak accident like my wife’s 6S.

PS: I also treated myself to a pair of AirPods. So far they’re decent, but I find them less effective in shutting off outside noise than some random earphones I used earlier. Maybe they aren’t optimised for my ear?

But I love the technology, though! And the product design.

Ganesha Workflow

I have a problem with productivity. It’s because I follow what I call the “Ganesha Workflow”.

Basically there are times when I “get into flow”, and at those times I ideally want to just keep going, working ad infinitum, until I get really tired and lose focus. The problem, however, is that it is not so easy to “get into flow”. And this makes it really hard for me to plan life and schedule my day.

So where does Ganesha come into this? I realise that my workflow is similar to the story of how Ganesha wrote the Mahabharata.

As the story goes, Vyasa was looking for a scribe to write down the Mahabharata, which he knew was going to be a super-long epic. And he came across Ganesha, who agreed to write it all down under one condition – that if Vyasa ever stopped dictating, Ganesha would put his pen down and the rest of the epic would remain unwritten.

So Ganesha Workflow is basically the workflow where as long as you are going, you go strong, but the moment you have an interruption, it is really hard to pick up again. Putting it another way, when you are in Ganesha Workflow, context switches are really expensive.

This means the standard corporate process of drawing up a calendar and earmarking times of day for certain tasks doesn’t really work. One workaround I have made to accommodate my Ganesha Workflow is that I have “meeting days” – days that are filled with meetings and when I don’t do any other work. On other days I actively avoid meetings so that my workflow is not disturbed.

While this works a fair bit, I’m still not satisfied with how well I’m able to organise my work life. For one, having a small child means that the earlier process of hitting “Ganesha mode” at home doesn’t work any more – it’s impossible to prevent context switches on the child’s account. The other thing is that there is a lot more to coordinate with the wife in terms of daily household activities, which means things on the calendar every day. And those will provide an interruption whether I like it or not.

I’m wondering what else I can do to accommodate my “Ganesha working style” into “normal work and family life”. If you have any suggestions, please let me know!

I miss Google Talk

From the time it launched in 2005 until 2012 or so when it was folded into Hangouts, I pretty much lived my life on Google Talk. The standard operating procedure when I came home from work (back then, I used to have jobs) was to open up my computer, open Google Talk and then ping 5-6 people who were online then.

The beauty of Google Talk was that you know who exactly was online at what point in time. So when you sprayed around your “hey how are you”s, you could target them at people who you knew were (or at least appeared to be) available to chat. This meant this had a high hit rate, and you could have productive conversations.

The problem with other chat mechanisms such as WhatsApp is that there is no “online” and “offline” mode. For example, if i’m working and I’m getting stuck and could use a quick conversation, turning my status to “available” on a chat room can then be a magnet for people to ping me. Or I can see which of my friends is online using their statuses, and then ping them.

With WhatsApp, I need to guess who might be available for conversation at this point in time. And that means lots of messages sent out which get responded to at the most inopportune of times (when I’ve got back my flow of work thought, for example).

In yesterday’s business standard I read about this app (whose name I now forget about ) which is trying to restart this kind of chats, signalling “availability” and chat rooms. Hopefully something like that will take off!

Reliance Jio Tariffs Seem Stupid

For the longest time I used a post-paid mobile phone. The hassle of recharging regularly, combined with the attractive rates available on post-paid “corporate” plans, meant that right from the time I graduated business school (in 2006) till I moved to England in 2017, I almost wholly used postpaid phones.

And then in England, I got a prepaid sim upon landing, and then soon discovered that it wasn’t more expensive than a postpaid (and there was no paperwork), and I kept the prepaid. Upon returning to India earlier this year, I’ve continued with a prepaid phone, with a Reliance Jio number. A few months back, I took an annual plan with Jio, paying for a year what I used to pay Airtel in less than two months before I moved out of India.

One of the reasons I don’t really mind having a pre-paid now is that it is far less of a hassle than postpaid. I have a 12 month program, for which I paid once, and until next May I don’t need to worry at all. There is one less bill to be paid each month.

And one thing that makes this “hassle-free” is that I don’t need to check my usage at all, either in terms of voice and data. It is a nicely bundled plan, with zero marginal cost for either calling or using data (the latter up to a (very high) limit). When there is a per-call charge, the balance notification at the end of each call places a mental cost (even if it is a low marginal cost), and you sometimes wonder if you need to call at all, or when you need to recharge.

The “current” zero marginal cost plan by Jio (I had a similar plan from EE in the UK) means that there is no such mental cost, and you can treat your prepaid mobile like you used to a postpaid.

Now things are changing. There are regulatory issues in India – on the “inter connection charge”. When a Jio customer calls an Airtel customer, Jio has to pay Airtel 6 paise per minute for Airtel’s service of completing the call on its network. This was earlier 14 paise a minute, which came down to 6 thanks to Jio’s lobbying, and was supposed to go away entirely in 2020.

When the entire market has settled on a zero marginal cost plan, like it is the case in the UK, inter connection charges don’t really matter. In India, however, there is massive asymmetry. People on older plans from Airtel and Vodafone still pay a lot for their calls, so they don’t mind paying a high interconnection charge, and want to receive a high inter-connection charge.

So over the last couple of months you’ve had massive lobbying, and hilarious exchanges like the debate among the major telcos regarding “missed calls” and how long the phone should ring.

Anyway, it appears that the inter connection charges won’t go away next year as planned. Jio is not happy. And in order to show its spite, it has decided to start charging for calling. A marginal charge of 6 paise a minute is going to be applied on Jio customers calling non-Jio phones.

I don’t see how this is going to be good for the Jio customer (I’m protected since I’d bought a long term plan earlier this year). The mental cost of calling comes back. You need to start worrying about what network the person receiving your call uses. You start getting that balance notification at the end of your call. You might need to recharge before your validity is over, creating more mental cost.

In other words, it seems like a rather dumb move by Jio. While it has clearly been taken to show that the operator is pissed off with the competition and the regulators, it is likely to hurt Ji0’s own business and drive its customers to the competition.

There were several smarter ways to handle this. Basically the problem is that Jio’s costs aren’t coming down as expected, so it needs to charge more. And there are several ways of charging more without imposing a mental cost.

One, the price point itself can be increased. Instead of Rs. 150 a month, it can charge Rs. 160. Second, instead of “unlimited free calls”, they can offer “1000 minutes of free calling per month” or something like that, with a different plan offering 2000 minutes of free calling per month. And so on.

But no. Reliance is more interested in making a statement than serving its own customers. And so it comes up with hare-brained schemes like charging per call “outside the network”. It will be interesting to see how their growth goes like over the next few months.

Dunzo and Urbanclap

I realise that Dunzo and Urbanclap (and many other apps) grew in a particular way. Initially they weren’t sure of the exact problem that they were solving, and instead focussed on a particular “problem class”.

And then over time, based on pattern recognition and segmentation/cluster analysis of the kind of problems that people were using these apps to solve, they started providing more targeted solutions that made better business sense.

Dunzo started off as a “we’ll do anything for you” app. People making fun of the company would talk about a Dunzo executive who would come home, collect your bean bag, get the beans refilled and bring it back to you, and only charge for the beans.

I’m pretty sure that there were many other such weird use cases in which people sort of abused Dunzo in its early days. However, most of the users of the app, I’m guessing, used it for sending packages across town, and to fetch stuff for them from shops and restaurants. And now, four years down the line, Dunzo highlights these specific streamlined use cases in the app, and has figured out a good way of charging for each of them.

It’s similar with Urbanclap. While I didn’t use them in the early days, I used their competitor HouseJoy. I used the app to request for “a plumber”. A plumber duly arrived and did all sorts of odd jobs in our apartment building, some of which were dangerous. And then at the end we paid him in cash, and he told us that “if someone from the app calls, tell them you paid me only 200 rupees” (we had paid him 2000).

Soon, after being a marketplace for all sorts of odd jobs, Urbanclap and its ilk noticed patterns and started specific services. So last week we got someone from Urbanclap to “repair our water heater” (this had a fixed fee on the app). It is another set of such specific services that UrbanClap offers.

I may not have said much new in this post, but it’s basically a crystallisation of some of my thoughts of late – sometimes it’s okay to not have a particularly precise business plan as long as you know what problem class you’re tackling. If you manage to get funded and are willing to burn money, you can learn the best set of problems from the market (within your identified class).

It’s an expensive process for sure, since until you figure this out you’ll be spending a lot of time and money doing random shit, but if you and your investors are willing to bear this kind of expense, it might be worth it.

The worst thing that can happen to you, though, is that after you’ve burnt your company’s money in learning about the market’s precise problem statement, another well-capitalised firm moves faster than you to address this specific market. The question is how well you can put to use your learnings from the early period for later on.