31 January 2010

Defending the Baseball Writers

In 1965, Twins shortstop Zolio Versalles swatted 19 home runs, 45 doubles and 12 triples, swiped 27 of 32 bases, led the league in runs scored and total bases, whiffed just 27 times and earned a gold glove. The BBWAA rewarded him with an MVP award despite a putrid .319 on base percentage.

Was that, asked Andy from Maryland, the worst MVP season of all time? Absolutely not. In fact, not only was it a totally defensible award, it actually demonstrated that baseball writers can make a pretty savvy choice, even if by accident.

Because he batted .271 and walked only 41 times, Versalles' posted just a .319/.462 OBP/SLG line, giving him roughly the 16th highest OPS in the league. Add in the steals and the fielding acumen at the key infield position and it's easy to see that those numbers fail to capture his value.

To some degree, the writers stumbled onto a good choice. They were aided by a lack of high average sluggers in 1965, the kind who usually gobble MVP votes. Only two American Leaguers swatted as many as 30 home runs, with 32 leading the league. Those two players, Tony Conigliaro and Norm Cash, batted .269 and .266, and played corner outfield and first base respectively. In addition, that MVP lubricant, the run batted in, was in short supply in 1965; only two players knocked in even 100. Rocky Colavito, Cleveland's rocket-armed outfielder who led the league with 108, hit .287 and was a legitimate MVP contender. Detroit's slow-footed first baseman, Willie Horton, drove in 104 and batted .273. He came in eighth in the voting.

It didn't hurt Versalles that the Twins ran away with the pennant ahead of the White Sox and Orioles. It might explain why Tony Oliva finished second, although 98 RBI, 19 steals, fine defense and a .321 batting average didn't hurt. Also aiding Versalles was the Red Sox's miserable 100-loss season, which degraded Carl Yastzemski's MVP case in the eyes of the writers, despite a league-best .312/.395/.536 performance.

While you could make a case for Yaz, Colavito, Cash and Oliva, the player who might truly have been most valuable that year finished tied for 17th in the balloting. (See the balloting and player stats here.) Sudden Sam McDowell fanned 325 batters in 273 innings and limited the league to a 2.18 ERA. But McDowell won just 17 games, pitchers had their own award, and no Indians were scalping honors with a fifth place finish.

That left Versalles, a five-tool performer whose failing landed directly in that era's blind spot. 1965 was a full 14 years before Bill James first suggested that OBP was the bomb, and 20 years before anyone paid attention. Blaming sportswriters then for ignoring OBP would have been like blaming them for failing to post their stories on the Internet. In fact, given the run scoring environment that year, Versalles' balanced portfolio may very well have delivered the highest returns to his team.

Baseball writers today get no such pass, of course, because it's their refusal to learn anything since 1965 that makes their ignorance so galling. Today, it's lazy and intentional.

And before we get carried away with the back-patting, five of their NL counterparts deserved to have been drummed out of the corps for their spectacularly dreadful MVP castings.

In 1965, Willie Mays led the majors with 53 bombs and 128 runs scored, and batted a stellar.317/.398/.645. In the field he was ... Willie Mays. Across the California coast that same year, Sandy Koufax confounded NL batters to the tune of 26-8, 2.04 in 335 frames with an astonishing .885 WHIP and 382 strikeouts.

So what did five of the 20 writers do? They rewarded Maury Wills with their MVP votes for swiping 94 bases. Wills ran into outs 40 times, never hit the ball out of the park, and produced a flaccid .660 OPS. He didn't even get on base much: his .330 OBP was 68 points worse than Mays' OBP, and as a Dodger, he never had to face Koufax. (To be fair, batting against Juan Marichal was no picnic either.) Those five should have been stripped of their press passes and sent to do some real reporting in Saigon.

So raise a glass to the baseball writers of 1965 who tripped, faltered, stumbled, back-pedaled and crashed into a sophisticated AL MVP selection. Maybe that wisdom will make a comeback.
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28 January 2010

How About That Momentum!

For all you momentum buffs, which is to say, you believers in UFOs, ghosts, the single bullet theory, and stimulus packages, I would offer a modest proposal.

Entering the NFL playoffs, the Indianapolis Colts and New Orleans Saints had combined to lose their last five games after winning their first 27. 

The San Diego Chargers had prevailed in their previous 11. 

Remember all the analysts pooh-poohing Indy and Norlins because they didn't have any momentum? And touting SD? I wonder what Super Bowl they'll be watching.

Here was the San Francisco 49ers' season: They won their first game. And their second. Lost their third. Won their fourth. Lost their next four. They had momentum going against them, right? But they won their next game, then lost, then won, lost, won, lost, won and won. The 49ers were twice as likely to lose if they won the game before, or win if they lost the game before. Did momentum take every other week off?

Here's the modest proposal: if you still think there is some magic force by which teams and individuals succeed because they succeeded the last time or two, I propose that you need your head examined.

A baseball player doesn't get a hit because he was safe in his last two at-bats. Teams don't win because they swept the previous three game series. They get hits, and win, because they're good, or lucky, or both.

That's not to say that success doesn't breed self-confidence, which leads to more success. But the concept of self-confidence has a name and it's not momentum. So let's let the momentum shibboleth rest in peace, okay?
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23 January 2010

When 50 Equals 2

Finally, someone has assessed Gary Matthews, Jr. at his real value. The Mets swapped out a spare bullpen part for Little Sarge and will pay him $1 million/year for attempting to be their fourth outfielder/defensive replacement this year and next. If anything, they overpaid for a guy who peaked in 2006 and hasn't sniffed respectability since.

After Matthews broke out with the Rangers in '06, posting a wind-aided .313/.371/.495, 19-homer, good defense performance, the Angels rushed to ink him to a delusional five-year, $50 million contract. The deal is back-loaded so most of the cost comes now when Matthews is 35 and can hardly lift a bat, much less swing one.

In his three campaigns in Anaheim, Matthews stretched his game to a new level -- Triple-A -- by batting .248/.326/.379 and producing for the regretful Angels one loss worse than a random guy pulled off the MLB outfielder pile.That's the pile from which the Mets just claimed him.

Anaheim GM Tony Reagins may be dancing the jig that someone was willing to relieve him of this burden, even if $21.5 million of the $23.5 million still being transferred to Matthews checking account comes from Arte Moreno's World Series fund. But the Mets are desperate for outfield play, particularly because of the uncertainty around Carlos Beltran's return, and Matthews might have more success in the weaker league. In any case, he knows where to find his glove. A million bucks, in Major League Baseball these days, is clubhouse tip money, so the Mets have invested little. We'll see if it yields anything.
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17 January 2010

Happy Birthday Prince Albert


Here's something every baseball writer and I will agree on: Albert Pujols will be a Hall of Famer. (Actually, if history is any guide, one or more baseball writer will decline to elect Pujols in his first year of eligibility, but since that will likely be their only opportunity, he will pass into the Hall without their imprimatur. This will say significantly more about the recalcitrant voter than about Prince Albert, but nothing we don't already know.)

Yesterday officially marked Pujols's 30th birthday. The tally on his career during his 20s is staggering and worthy of reflection. Superlatives, get ready for the workout of your lives. His inaugural season set the pace: at age 21 he mashed .329/.403./.610 with 47 doubles and 37 homers and played superb defense, split among third, first, left and right. That performance alone put him in elite company with all-time greats.

Back problems led to a sophomore slump -- .314/.394/.561 with a decline in doubles (40) and dingers (34), and more insidiously, a significant drop-off in defense. He played mostly leftfield that year, a waste of his enormous infield talent. It would be the last time Pujols's OBP would drop below .400. In fact, it would be the last time it would drop under .415. (Rickey Henderson had 20 years with OBP below .415.)

In his first nine years (he's actually not yet Hall eligible), the ghosts of Cooperstown accompanied the Dominican Cardinal. He has compiled a .334/.427/.628  batting line with 366 home runs and several earned Gold Gloves at first. According to MLB.com, Pujols ranks fourth in games played, third in home runs, fourth in RBIs, fourth in batting average, fourth in OBP and third in slugging average all-time among players in their 20s. The names around him read like a rakers' litany: Dimaggio, Ruth, Williams, Rodriguez, Aaron and Foxx. In his 20s, Willie Mays produced an OPS 99 points lower than Pujols's.

Assuming Pujols hasn't ingested illegal substances, which we can't, but about which he asserted he would never affront God so, Prince Albert stands supreme in baseball today, and has done so over the last decade. Baseball Prospectus calculates that Pujols has been worth 85.5 wins to the Cardinals relative to a replacement player, which is to say, he has contributed nine years of unmitigated MVP quality. Despite previous bouts with a balky back and a torn ulnar collateral ligament, he added an astonishing 12.7 wins to St. Louis last year. If you're wondering what got into the Cardinals during an '09 season that promised mediocrity but delivered a division title, they just got themselves more Albert than usual. He kissed a .500 season and it turned into 94 wins. That's historic. BP estimates that Pujols's on-field play alone was worth roughly $36.5 million to St. Louis last year.

How will Pujols fare in his 30s? His back is an ongoing concern, but his athleticism and batting eye suggest that his peak will linger and his decline will be slow and gentle. Unlike Frank Thomas, who compiled similar early career stats and then tailed off, Pujols has tremendous defensive value and sufficient secondary skills to withstand a slowing of his bat.

Except this.

Albert Pujols is 30 like Charles Barkley is a ballerina. His family in the D.R. claims that he graduated high school early. Uh-huh. And I needed marijuana in college for my arthritis pain.

If instead, Pujols is 32 or 33, his prime has danced its last jig. If he's 32 or 33 now, we'll be evaluating him at 36 and 37 when he's really pushing 40. The whole equation is altered.

Which is to say, Albert Pujols's place in history will be at issue. We might debate whether he was Gerhig's equal, or Foxx's or Thomas's. But there won't be any debate about the Hall of Fame.
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16 January 2010

Jolly Well Done!


If you want evidence that the best Hot Stove deals come after all the big wood is burned, this past week provides it.

First, the Astros leave their history of knucklehead contracts behind them and ink Brett Myers to a one-year, $5 million deal. Then, the Dodgers reap the benefit of swimming in the shallow end of the salary pool by nailing down outfielder Matt Kemp for two years at $10.95 million, and starting pitcher Chad Billingsley for one year at $3.85 million.

Then today, speaking of putting knucklehead contracts in the past, the Diamondbacks admit their mistake a cut loose Eric Byrnes, despite owing him $11 million.

Each of these moves will make their teams better. L.A.'s Trolley Hoppers sidestep arbitration and all that entails with their star duo, resulting in raises of $3.4 million for Billingsley and $5 million for Kemp. Billingsley struggled in the second half last year, so the one-year deal gives the Dodgers another season to evaluate him before committing longer-term. In his first four MLB campaigns, he's demonstrated durability, posted a 3.55 ERA, and struck out twice as many as he's walked. The arrow points up.

Kemp has also drawn major league paychecks since 2006, earning notice for his bat, glove and legs. A Gold Glove, a Silver Slugger and 85 steals in 109 attempts is a great way to start a career. The contract covers the rest of his arbitration years -- I think -- so I would have liked to see a longer deal from management's perspective, but they did get some savings in exchange for two years of salary certainty for Kemp.

The Myers deal may or may not net Houston an ace to complement Roy Oswalt, but $5 million is half the going rate for an average #3/4 innings-eater. Meyers has a checkered history, but the white squares look awfully good, and if he's healthy following his injury-flecked 2009 (and I assume the Astros know a decent physician who could do Myers' physical) his contract offers nearly all upside.

The best move of the bunch is Byrnes' goodbye party. Too bad for the fans in Phoenix that it required one of the dumbest signings ever to make it so. Eric Byrnes was a speedy but brittle outfielder with a good glove and an average bat by the time he turned 30. Byrnes is also a quintessential Californian character -- nickname Crash Test Dummy -- whose highlight reel catches and headfirst slides endeared him to fans and obscured the truth about his abilities. After he posted his best season ever at age 31 (.286/.353/.460 with 50 steals, which is pretty average outfield stuff, not withstanding the baserunning), Arizona brass rewarded him with three years and 30 million thank yous for smiling and getting dirty a lot.

Alas, they neglected to notice that 2007 was the first time Byrnes had stayed healthy for even 144 games, the first time he'd posted a .350 OBP and the first time he'd stolen even 30 bases. They paid him for his previous season just as his future began to fade, and in his age 32 and 33 years combined he stayed upright for just 136 games, posting OPS of .641 and .663 and contributing right about the level of a random AAA call-up.

So why cut Byrnes loose when you have to pay him eleven large? Because as long as he's not contributing, you might as well call up the AAA guy and give him a chance. Why waste at-bats on a 34-year-old has-been back-up, when you can let a new guy bob for apples at the company Halloween Party on the off chance that he might get one.

This move directly benefits persons answering to the names Ryan Roberts, Cole Gillespie and Rusty Ryal, a trio of fourth outfielder wannbees who spent '09 plying their trade in places like Mobile, AL and Reno, NV, but mostly it shows that Diamonback GM Josh Byrnes (no relation) understands the concept of a sunk cost. There are plenty of clubs that would have weighed down their rosters with Byrnes just because they're paying him the big bucks, but the money is spent either way, so the D-backs might as well make the optimum move for their pennant chances.

There's still another Adam Dunn '09 deal (two years, $20 million for a guy worth $30-$36 million) to be made out there, but it will take patience, intelligence and some luck. I'll be watching.
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If I Wanted To Get My Facts Straight, I Wouldn't Have Gone Into Journalism...

Whoops! A couple of events have passed me by and rendered some of my comments...ahem...factuallly challenged.

Andy from Maryland points out that Chris Coste, the Phillies' catcher/first baseman whom I suggested could platoon with Ryan Howard, will have to do so in 2010 in different parts of the inning. Apparently Coste has signed a Mets contract without consulting me.

The point stands, of course, that Howard is a homewrecker against righthanded pitching and a weeble against southpaws and ought to sit in favor of virtually any righthanded batter when lefties face the Phils.

I described Mark McGwire going oppo for his 62nd blast in 1998. Andy notes that was a pull job. I must have been remembering another of his one-handed, opposite-field base clearers. You know, the kind he claims would have been a home run even without the added strength provided by steroids.

I appreciate when readers pitch in. You can post your comments below mine, or email me directly if you have the secret code.
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15 January 2010

The Man in the Mirror


Do you remember how exciting the '98 season was with Big Mac and Sammy crashing their way through the magical land of Sixtyone? Remember how thrilling it was when McGwire reached out one of his Popeye arms and deposited a pitch just over the opposite field fence and into the record books before embracing the Maris family? Remember how every time he came to bat thousands of camera flashes would sparkle against the summer night?

Remember what cognitive dissonance we all felt when a reporter found androstenedione in Big Mac's locker? Remember how it threatened to spoil the fun? Remember how the rest of the sports media world attacked --  the reporter! -- and how we all breathed a sigh of relief that we had been given permission to ignore the signs that the home run race was artificially sweetened?

We so wanted the history to be made. We wanted to be there for it. We rooted for Mac over Sosa even though Mac was moody and brooding, while Sosa was joyful and effervescent, because the massive redhead was the rightful heir to Ruth and Maris.

Remember?

No, actually, you've forgotten, particularly if you're a voting member of the BBWAA. All week we've heard the wailing, the gnashing of teeth, and of course, what about the children! In the wake of his quasi-admission that he juiced, Mark McGwire has been called everything but a Tonton Macoutes, and seems to have sealed any chance he might have had of winning free admission into the Hall of Fame.

Now I'll give you this: McGwire's mea culpa was overdue, self-serving, semi-graceless and stinking of denial, and the orchestrated Tony LaRussa follow-on was downright mendacious and insulting. McGwire uncorked that old shibboleth about steroids not giving a guy the ability to hit. He flexed that pathetic excuse that he shot up for a decade to recover from injuries. LaRussa insisted he didn't know his slugger juiced, even after McGwire's admission by omission before Congress five years ago. (It's worth noting that LaRussa is a lawyer. He knows what obfuscating sounds like.)

But here's the truth that no one, particularly those 20-year BBWAA members with HOF votes, wants to acknowledge: we're all collaborators. We liked being on the record-breaking train and we didn't want our trip upended by a hormone scandal. More than that, steroid use was widespread, if not rampant, for years, but not a single reporter whom I'm aware of ever documented it. Many of the very best players of the day -- Jose Canseco, Roger Clemens, Andy Pettitte, Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa, Barry Bonds, Ivan Rodriguez, Miguel Tejada, Jason Giambi and Rafael Palmeiro -- were apparently poking themselves with needles, and not a single reporter knew? Please.

So spare me the righteous indignation. You were in on it. The main difference between you and Mark McGwire is that Mark McGwire has finally taken some responsibility for his role.
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10 January 2010

A Modest Proposal

If you were being set up on a blind date, you'd probably demur at the suggestion that a prospective match had "a nice personality." It's code, of course, for "looks like a cross between Julia Child and Arnold Ziffel."

Imagine how you'd back away if she were described as being ugly, but mean. Imagine further, that you had an alternative offer with a nice young lady described as average looking. In comparison, she'd seem like Helen of Troy.

Not that the juggarnaut known as the Phillies needs my help, but that's the situation facing them when Charlie Manuel writes Sybil, I mean Ryan Howard, in his lineup everyday. Howard, of course, is a truly great hitter, a .279/.376/.576 slugger with 222 dingers on his early career resume. But Howard is really two blind dates in one: Scarlett Johansen against righties and Madeline Albright against southpaws.

Continuing a trend, Howard popped off a .320/.395/.693 line in 2009 against righthanders, with a four-bagger every 10 at-bats. Against lefties, Mario Mendoza stood in for him and accumulated a .207/.298/.356 portfolio with a homer every 37 trips. Coupled with his below-average defense, Howard is a double threat -- against the Phils -- when a lefty takes the mound.

It's worse than even this, because even against right-handed pitching, opponents bring lefties out of the bullpen to face Howard, Utley and Ibanez when the game is on the line. The Phillies lose some of their pop right around the time Brad Lidge comes into the game to inject some energy into the opposition. The Yankees took advantage of this during the World Series with Andy Pettitte and CC Sabathia eating Howard up.

Suppose instead, the Phillies platooned Howard against lefties with whatever detritus they could sweep up off the waiver wire or out of Triple-A. They'd improve on offense and defense, and deflect rotation management by other teams. They'd even give the righty-killing Howard more at-bats, because as the temptation to find lefties from the bullpen declines, Manual could pinch hit Howard against righty relievers and get that 1008 OPS guy into key situations.

A replacement level first baseman hits about .237/.288/.405 with -- maybe counter-intuitively -- above-average defense. It's about a 40 point increase in OPS, plus the glove play, but what if the Phillies could find a better hitter than that? They probably have one on the roster.


Take Chris Coste, their backup catcher/first baseman. Over the last three years, Coste has pasted southpaws at a.297/.349/.465 clip. Replacing Howard with Coste against lefties would win Philadelphia two more games. And Coste is just the first name that jumped to mind. I'll bet Philly GM Ruben Amaro could do even better.


None of this should be seen as an indictment of Ryan Howard. He's a very good baseball player. But why not leverage his greatness and mitigate his weakness? It just makes sense.
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06 January 2010

.323


Guess what these no-hit infielders, fourth outfielders, utility players, bench warmers and general  flotsam and jetsam of the Major League Baseball universe have in common:

Rajai Davis, Daric Barton, Mike Sweeney, Ryan Langerhans, Chad Tracy, Garrett Atkins, Ronnie Belliard, Mark Loretta, Melky Cabrera, Kelly Johnson, Alex Rios, Gregg Norton, Ryan Church, Eric Hinske, Jerry Hairston, Sr. and Jerry Hairston, Jr.

They have all gotten on base more successfully than new Hall of Famer Andre Dawson, who made outs in 67.7% of his plate appearances. The aforementioned luminaries are (or were) superior to new Hall of Famer Andre Dawson in avoiding making outs, of which a team has only a limited supply each game.

Hitting safely has been demonstrated to be the single most important skill in the game of baseball. On base percentage correlates with run scoring better than any single statistic. (This is a fact, proven over millions of at bats, not an opinion or conjecture. It's not debatable.) And Andre Dawson, a newly-elected Hall of Famer, was the equal of Mets' backup catcher Brian Schneider at this skill.

If there were a car hall of fame (there probably is), this would be the equivalent of automotive writers voting in the Ford Pinto because it was inexpensive and got good gas mileage. Sure, it disassembled violently when struck from behind but it was stylish and it never got caught taking steroids.

Baseball writers long ago lost the ability to shock me with their ignorance. Congratulations to Andre Dawson, a pretty good player who has now been enshrined as one of the all-time greats in the sacred museum in Cooperstown.
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And Then There's Mark McGwire...


He crushed 583 home runs at a .394/.588 clip, the most prodigious home run hitter in Major League history. (A tater every 10.6 at bats.)

He may have also used steroids, as did many of his contemporaries, some of whom we know about and some of whom we don't. Maybe Robbie Alomar and Barry Larkin did.

Without better information, I can't make a judgment about steroid use generally or his in particular. So he's in, with plenty of room to spare.

When you're Babe Ruth's superior in the power game, you're a Hall of Famer.
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05 January 2010

The Hall of Fame...?


At the beginning of each semester, I ask my students to write down directions from a mythical street to another mythical street by way of a third mythical avenue. Of course, there are no wrong answers, because if you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there.

There's a bit of the old professor's trick in Hall of Fame voting because it's not clear what the standard is. The original blueprint was Babe Ruth, Walter Johnson and Ty Cobb, but a good frat leader could fit that Hall into a Volkswagen Beetle.

Since then, voters have swerved back and forth between the "big tent" Hall and the "best of the best" Hall. Which leaves us today with no real benchmark.

Bill James of Abstract fame and Jay Jaffe, an author at Baseball Prospectus, both measure Hall credentials of qualifying players against average Hall of Famers at given positions. Inducting only nominees who equal or surpass the overall average at their positions would slowly raise the standard over time.

That's more or less the criterion I use for my (also mythical) Hall of Fame ballot. Inductees have always comprised roughly one percent of players at a given time, and that seems to me like a reasonable guide. Given that, here's a brief summary of my HOF evaluations.

Don't Even Need To Look 'Em Up:
Marvin Miller, Tim Raines, Robbie Alomar

I wrote an impassioned piece last year this time comparing the putrid induction of Bowie Kuhn, likely the least effective commissioner in baseball history, to the snubbing of Marvin Miller. As the union chief who moved the players from virtual slaves to multi-millionaires, Miller tormented Kuhn at every confrontation. Inducting Kuhn and not Miller is, without hyperbole, like putting Jerry Quarry in the Boxing Hall of Fame and leaving out Joe Frazier and Muhammad Ali. Marvin Miller is one of the five most significant figures in MLB history.

I made my case for Raines a few blogs back. His inability to come close is yet another indictment on the baseball media establishment.

You may be remembering the Robbie Alomar who spit on an umpire, or the Robbie Alomar who disintegrated upon arrival at Shea Stadium, never to re-animate. But the Alomar through age 33 was a truly great five-tool player. He posted OBP over .375 eight times and slugged over .450 seven times. That's right fielder territory, but Alomar was a slick-fielding second-sacker. He's the top echelon of second-basemen after the gods -- Hornsby, Morgan, Lajoie, Collins. This one is a no-brainer, which is why the BBWAA should excel here.

Deserving:
Barry Larkin, Edgar Martinez

Like Alomar, Larkin was a five-tooler whose power tools stayed mostly in the closet. (He did hit 33 dingers one anomolous season.) In Cal Ripken, Jr.'s wake, we tend to expect our shortstops to swing big lumber, but Larkin's .295/.371/.444 over 19 seasons, with 379 steals at 83% and Gold Glove defense places him squarely among the greats.

Edgar Martinez is a closer call, in part because the Mariners let him marinate in Triple-A for several years after he'd proven he could knock around Major League arms, and in part because he didn't play the field. Plenty of Hall of Famers past (think Harmon Killebrew) and future (paging Frank Thomas) were lousy fielders who could have benefitted from a seat half the game, so I don't penalize Martinez much for that. But there's no doubt that a hitter who cannot take the field limits his team's flexibility and forces them to play a lesser hitter who can catch.

That said, the guy raked. Anyone who hits .312/418/.515 over 18 years is going to have to have some pretty awesome warts not to make the Hall of Fame. The guy contributed 4-5 wins a season without putting on a glove, which puts him above the average Hall of Famer at first base. (He began his career at third, was a passable fielder, but couldn't be left without adult supervision as his knees deteriorated.)

I guess I'm convinced:
Bert Blyleven, Ron Santo


The seamheads say Bert Blyleven and Ron Santo belong in the Hall of Fame. Blyleven was an effective, rubber-armed curveball specialist who toiled mostly for weak teams in prosperous hitting environments. As a result, we didn't value him correctly contemporaneously. But he did seem to be one of the five best hurlers in his league every year for a long stretch, fanning three times as many batters as he walked.

Santo was a superb, but not spectacular, cornerman for the Cubs during a short career smack in the middle of Deadball II. His .277/.362/.464 seems mundane until placed into the context of his time.  Makes sense to me, but I was five when he had his best year. Santo, of course, is not on the ballot, but the Veteran's Committee, aka Dr. No, could induct him.

Not Enough
Andre Dawson, Dave Parker, Fred McGriff, Don Mattingly, Dale Murphy

Dawson and Parker got on base at .323 and .339 lifetime rates. That is well below average for any outfielder, much less a HOF candidate. Mattingly and Murphy, to different degrees, were superb two-way players for a period of time, and not so superb the rest of their careers. Really, Murphy had five great years and not much otherwise. The argument for Mattingly is really a concession speech: he would have been Hall worthy but for an injured back. Well, I would have been Hall worthy but for a scintillating lack of talent.

McGriff is my toughest out. He was a numbers accumulator for much of his career, what with the seven straight 30-homer campaigns. He hit everywhere he went until age 39, compiling 493 home runs and .284/.377/.509. But he never seemed to equal the sum of his parts. McGriff was a mediocre fielder who ran like tapioca pudding. My qualitative side can't put him in.

Don't Know What To Do With
Alan Trammel

I remember Trammel as Mark Belanger's alter ego, but in fact, he was twice the hitter and nearly every bit the fielder. In 1987 he smacked 28 home runs, knocked in 105, stole 21 of 23, hit .343/.402/.551 and was the best defender in the game. He was the best defender in the game numerous times, but he couldn't (or just didn't) do back flips, so no one noticed. I didn't either. The statheads say he's a stone cold lock. I'm feeling cognitive dissonance, because that's not how I remember him.

You might disagree. Tomorrow, so might I. Because after all, there's no real standard.
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