Photo: USA Today Sports

There's a lot of really strong dynasty analysis out there, especially when compared to five or ten years ago. But most of it is so dang practical-- Player X is undervalued, Player Y's workload is troubling, the market at this position is irrational, take this specific action to win your league. Dynasty, in Theory is meant as a corrective, offering insights and takeaways into the strategic and structural nature of the game that might not lead to an immediate benefit but which should help us become better players over time. (Additionally, it serves as a vehicle for me to make jokes like "theoretically, this column will help you out".)

Allocating our Resources

I wrote last week about how fantasy football, in general, and dynasty leagues, in particular, were essentially just resource-management games. We have limited resources at our disposal-- limited draft picks, limited roster spots, limited weekly starting slots-- and the teams that could wring the most value out of those resources will be most successful at the game.

Thinking about dynasty leagues in this framework is useful because there are entire fields of game theory devoted to maximizing performance in constrained, tightly-bounded, zero-sum, limited-resource situations. For instance, the best way to win a limited-resource game is to increase the resources at your disposal relative to your competitors.

There are lots of ways to do this in dynasty, primarily by exchanging something of lesser value for something of greater value. Whether it's trading for a better player, or using a rookie draft pick on someone who fell further than he should, or acquiring extra draft picks, or trading two players for one and using the newly-opened roster spot productively, there are plenty of avenues to make your dynasty team "better" or "more valuable" (with "value" in this case meaning "whatever it is that leads to winning").

Most dynasty advice (most fantasy advice) falls in that category. Draft this player instead of that one, sell high on this guy, buy low on that guy. It's useful, actionable, practical, and in the long run, leads to success (provided it's good advice). That should always be your primary priority. You should always be asking, "how do I increase the value of my team, how do I gain more resources than my opponents".

But the best-laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley (go oft' awry). Many of our attempts to increase roster value will fail. We'll trade for the wrong player, or cut the wrong player in waivers, or sacrifice future picks for present value. And even if we're successful, our leaguemates are attempting to do the same thing, and some of them will undoubtedly succeed. It's unavoidable that we'll often be competing without a net resource advantage (or even with a net resource disadvantage). And in those cases, how we allocate the resources we do have can make a substantial difference.

So I wanted to look at two resource-allocation strategies I've seen and personally used. In the past, I've been strongly in favor of one of them over the other, but in recent years my feelings have become much more mixed.

Studs. vs. Depth

Back in 2015, I weighed in on the debate over whether it was better to fill your team with lots of solid players or to roster a few superstars with lots of filler around them. I came down strongly in favor of a studs and duds approach, and I think my reasons for favoring that approach are all correct.

Let's say that 8 points per game is about what you can expect to score simply by playing running backs off of waivers every week. Imagine a team with two backs that both average 13 points per game and a second team with one back that averages 18 points per game, but no other RBs to speak of. Both teams will average 26 points per game from the position, but I contended the latter team was better.

For one reason, it's easier for the latter team to improve. If both teams get a lucky waiver claim and grab a running back who instead averages 11 points per game, the "studs and duds" team sees its weekly average improve to 29 ppg, while the "two solid performers" team doesn't improve at all. It's easier to replace a player who is the very definition of "replacement level".

For another, if we assume both teams were going to suffer a severe injury to one of their two running backs, the "Studs and Duds" team would have a 50% chance of shrugging off that injury without any major loss (provided it hit the "replacement level" player and not the star). The "solid depth" team, by contrast, was guaranteed to take a hit from any injury anywhere on its roster.

Now, granted, if the "studs and duds" team lost its star instead of its filler, that would be a catastrophic blow. Studs and duds is a higher-variance strategy with respect to injury; more chance of escaping unscathed, more chance of being decimated entirely. But in dynasty, variance is intrinsically good; if I'm not competing for a title, the best place to be is last place so I can get the 1.01 pick. And if the final goal is "studs at every position", a studs and duds lineup is 50% of the way to that goal, while a "solid players everywhere" lineup is 0% of the way there.

The biggest point to make of all of this analysis is that it's true. I know this because as a dynasty manager, I always strive to practice what I preach (and to preach what I practice).

My home league rookie draft doesn't have a set number of rounds, teams keep drafting until they run out of players they want to cut. For years I was famous for being the last manager left in the draft, setting multiple records for total rounds and total players picked.

Our league has 30-man rosters. In 2012 I finished 1st in points scored, 1st in All-Play win%, and won a championship. After the season, I drafted twelve players in the rookie draft, functionally turning over 40% of my roster. Then in 2013, I finished 1st in points, 1st in all-play win%, and won a title again.

In 2016 I again finished 1st in points and first in all-play win%. After the season, I drafted fourteen new players (47% of my total roster!), and then in 2017, I yet again finished 1st in points and 1st in all-play win%. Any time someone down my lineup started showing promise, I'd package him into a 2-for-1 trade that improved the top of my lineup or packaged him for future picks. I took "studs and duds" to such an extreme that I was dominating the league at the same time that nearly half of my roster was basically waiver fodder.

But a few years back, I started to think more on the subject and realized that while my thoughts on the strengths of a studs and duds approach were correct, I had missed a few key points in favor of a high-depth approach to roster building.