During this already long winter in Gotham one awakens to a weather report on TV, the Internet or radio and listens to the broadcaster state that the wind chill factor or "real feel" temperature as some refer to it is, say, two degrees - as opposed to the actual, real temperature of 28.

The same holds true in the summer when the meteorologists talk about the "heat index" or dew point, which is a measure of the combined effect of both the heat and humidity. How often has one heard the following tired phrases uttered - "it's not the heat, it's the humidity" or "it's not the cold, it's the wind". So the weather experts have evolved in their telling of the weather narrative and have tailored their stats to more accurately inform us - so they hope - of the conditions outdoors.

It's a new paradigm. Just looking at the big three numbers of temperature, precipitation and wind speed belongs to an earlier era. Sound familiar sports fans? As it's obvious that a new statistical examination has overtaken sports the last decade and has grabbed a firm hold. It's been happening for a while but now it's fully seared into the consciousness of those who follow the games.

Especially in baseball. After all, we are now told that the holy trinity of wins, ERA and strikeouts provide only the surface worth of a pitcher. WHIP, "quality starts", GO/AO (for the uninitiated, that's the ratio of ground outs to fly -"air"- outs) and a bevy of other categories have stolen the thunder from the august stats of our fathers' generation.

But is all of this good and worthwhile? Will these new stats permanently replace the apparent antiquated data that served the sport for a century? Or will it fall the way of New Math (those who went to grade school in the 60's and 70's will get that one) and vanish? It's sort of like revisionist history emerging to challenge and eventually replace the conventional text. Think of the tension between defining Modern and Post Modern art. In most cases, the new assortment of stats truly augment and enlighten perspective when evaluating a player. But is there a risk that the bottom line will be ignored?

And a mini-war of sorts has broken out between the traditionalists and the New Agers. This debate reached a peak in the last few months with both the Cy Young award and Hall of Fame voting. Tim Lincecum nabbed the honor in the National League for the second straight year with only 15 wins to his credit. The runners up both had more wins - Cardinals' Adam Wainright (19) and Chris Carpenter (17). And Carpenter had a lower ERA. The one category Lincecum did lead in was strikeouts. Lincecum was able to win the award as voters were swayed by his "new stats" numbers. So the vote was generally considered fair.

Yet, when judging a player's value isn't winning truly the only key, especially for pitchers. A hurler like Andy Pettitte has never put up gaudy numbers, except in wins. He'll often give up several runs early but then hold the other team in check, allowing his teammates to come to the offensive rescue. But this would never show up in his numbers. Now, to be fair of course if one is pitching for the Yankees it's easier to garner victories. Yet if I had voted this past year, I would have acknowledged that the extremely likeable Lincecum only went 7-7 in the second half of the season, during which the Giants were in the midst of a pennant race.

So, a win is a win. And 30 degrees is always 30 degrees. When I take a quick glance at the weather map and notice ridiculously cold temperatures scattered across the screen, I shudder at how brutal it is outside the house. Ah, but then I realize they're just saying how cold it feels not how cold it really is. It's almost as if they're trying to dramatize or hype up the weather, to make this the coldest day ever. Sometimes it seems, to listen to weather people talk up the dozens of inches in blizzards, they're bragging about their manhood - as, indeed, this current storm must be known as the greatest ever. As in sports parlance, weather talk has gone the way of superlatives over accuracy on occasion.

When it comes to the Hall of Fame the two warring stat factions will forever be at odds. Many have criticized the selection of Andrew Dawson as flawed, as his non-traditional numbers like slugging and OBP were relatively weak. (I too don't think he merited inclusion; though a valid argument can be made that his strong HR and RBI totals were backed up by stellar fielding, something often overlooked). And the deliberations will only become more heated in coming elections as the 300 win, 500 home run thresholds, thought to guarantee inclusion in prior years, will no longer guarantee a spot in Cooperstown (this also has to do with the steroid era).

Baseball is in no way the only sport to exponentially expand the pool of archetype-changing stats; but its number crunchers have been the most effective as it's quantifiably easier to understand baseball's demography.

As opposed to football. For years now, the NFL has used the baffling and indecipherable quarterback rating as the best way to ascribe value to the most important position in the sport. Here is the formula: a = (((Comp/Att) * 100) -30) / 20
b = ((TDs/Att) * 100) / 5
c = (9.5 - ((Int/Att) * 100)) / 4
d = ((Yards/Att) - 3) / 4

a, b, c and d can not be greater than 2.375 or less than zero.

QB Rating = (a + b + c + d) / .06

Yet, find me a fan who knows how they come up with that number. And it's nearly meaningless at that. For, truly, wins and composure in key moments are the only thing that matter in the end for quarterbacks.

It'll be interesting to follow this schism between the two camps of athlete evaluators; those who just care about the raw bottom line - wins, leaders in offensive categories, etc. - and the others who travel a more circular and varied path to judgment.