Hall of Famers Playing Today

Last season I mentioned in this space that there were only three surefire Hall of Famers playing the game today -- Miguel Cabrera, Albert Pujols and Ichiro Suzuki.

It's important to keep in mind that Alex Rodriguez : HOF :: Albert Einstein : high school science fair, but many voters will never cast their ballot for an admitted steroid user.

That there is only a triad of definitive bust-worthies on the field doesn't mean that 2016 won't be as well represented in Cooperstown as any other year. There are many players who are on their way; we just can't yet be sure which of the many candidates will ultimately pan out. Let's take a look:

Adrian Beltre
Current WAR = 84   Age = 36

If you believe the defensive metrics, which say that Beltre is one of the 10 most valuable defensive players of all time, he's a certain HOFer.  If you're skeptical, he's a borderline case. The arc of his career is unusual: six of his seven best seasons have come since age 31. Estimated odds: 75%





David Ortiz

Current WAR = 50   Age = 39
Simply on paper, this is not the curriculum vitae of a HOFer. But a high career peak, demonstrated leadership, World Series heroics and repeated clutch play will get Big Papi into the Hall. Estimated odds: 90%.


Carlos Beltran
Current WAR = 68   Age = 38

The opposite of the first two: Beltran's accumulation of WAR has been slow and steady. The lack of a ring, big home run or batting average numbers, a charismatic personality or signature skill, and a borderline case for the Hall could keep him out, especially because his career appears to be over.  Estimated odds: 33%.




Felix Hernandez
Current WAR = 50   Age = 29
Suffered his worst season in 2015 since age 22 -- and finished seventh in Cy Young balloting. The usual pitcher caveats apply, as his top comparables at age 29 include Vida Blue, Dwight Gooden, Larry Dierker and Fernando Valenzuela . Estimated odds: 40%. (That's not a knock; 40% odds for a pitcher at age 29 is stupendous.)

Clayton Kershaw
Current WAR = 49   Age = 27

If he were an everyday player with these credentials at this age folks in Cooperstown would be chiseling his likeness now for his inevitable induction. His top nine comparables at age 27 include six Hall of Fame-level hurlers -- Seaver, Pedro, Clemens, Palmer, Marichal and Carlton. Pitchers are an enigma but he's the closest thing to certainty. Estimated odds: 75%.




Buster Posey
Current WAR = 29   Age = 29
It's hard to believe that Posey is the same age as King Felix with less than 60% of the WAR. Entering his sixth full season, Posey's HOF case would seem to rest on remaining behind the plate, something the Giants seem intent on preserving -- paradoxically -- by stationing him at first and DH 45 times last season. Joe Mauer serves as a cautionary tale. Estimated odds: 50%

Robinson Cano
Current WAR = 55   Age = 33

Keystone is the least honored position in the Hall, but if past honorees are any guide, Cano is just a few average seasons away from deserving a bust. A couple more five-win campaigns, of which he is eminently capable, puts him in. Estimated odds: 65%.





Zack Greinke
Current WAR = 52   Age = 31
Began his career 21-35, 4.63.  Since leaving KC in 2011 he's 82-26, 2.82. Another five years of that gets him in, of course, but the clock is ticking and there isn't much room for error. Estimated odds: 30%.

Craig Kimbrel
Current WAR = 13   Age = 28

WAR means as much to relief pitchers as to Buddhist monks. Kimbrel was the best reliever in baseball his first four seasons and merely excellent last year. If he reverts to his original form for a few more seasons he's a shoo-in. It will take a full career of last year's performance to make the case. Estimated odds: 35%.

 


Dustin Pedroia
Current WAR = 45   Age = 33
Cano minus 10 wins + a dirty uniform - 121 home runs + an MVP, ROY and four Gold Gloves. He has to stay on the field to have any chance but he's missed 92 games the last two seasons. Estimated odds: 20%.

Joey Votto
Current WAR = 43   Age = 31

First basemen who don't pound homers aren't usually the apple of voters' eyes, but voters' eyesight has been improving in recent years. Votto hits for average, gets on base and fields the position well -- today's Jeff Bagwell without the baserunning. However, he has old player skills that tend to decline precipitously, so his candidacy will be determined by how gracefully he ages. Estimated odds: 33%.



Chase Utley
Current WAR = 63 Age = 37
Utley appears to have run out of gas at the top of Glimmerglass Lake, just short of Cooperstown. He needs to rediscover two more years of mojo for the call. Estimated odds: 20%.

Brian McCann/Russell Martin/Yadier Molina
None is quite on the Hall of Fame track today, but new research on catcher framing and blocking suggests we are underestimating their value. If those revelations are confirmed by further research, we might find ourselves re-evaluating their careers. There's no way to estimate those odds.

Mike Trout/Bryce Harper/Manny Machado and their ilk
They're surefire Hall of Famers, just like other fast starters: Nomar Garciaparra, Al Rosen, Miguel Tejada, George Foster, Denny McClain and Eric Davis. There are so many greats in their formative years today that some of them are sure to earn enshrinement.  Exactly who, now that's the question. That said, it's difficult at this stage to conceive of Trout and Harper failing to achieve all-time greatness.

Anyone else
Someone who isn't a relative newbie and doesn't have Hall credentials is going to defy the normal aging trajectory and sneak into the conversation with a late-career Renaissance. Maybe it's David Price (29 WAR) or Nelson Cruz (22 WAR)?

The Pete Rose Conundrum Is Really Kind of Simple

I'm not the least bit sympathetic to Pete Rose for his continuing ban from baseball, are you? The guy is an inveterate liar and a bit of a dope. He's frittered away numerous kotowing opportunities to the lords of the game that could have polished his reformation credentials.

Besides that, what do I care if he's allowed to serve as a hitting instructor or a first base coach? That's really a Pete Rose problem.

Here's what I do care about: I care about a baseball Hall of Fame that doesn't include the all-time hits leader. That's a bit of a travesty.

Here are some more bits: the Hall of Fame apparently will close its doors to the all-time home run king and the best pitcher of his generation. We appear to be destined to a Hall absent one of MLB's greatest infielders, who has not yet retired. For years the Hall has turned a blind eye to one of the best players of the early 20th century. 

Instead we have Phil Rizzuto and Lloyd Waner.

Having lived down the road from the Hall for 18 years; having made a tradition of annual Hejiras to Cooperstown every Opening Day, where we would hop the fence at Doubleday Field and throw a ball around (it snowed on us once); I want the museum to mean something. I want enshrinement of the game's best, not its nicest or most moral. 

MLB can screw Pete Rose, but I wish it would quit screwing you and me, and this year, new commissioner Rob Manfred made it clear that he is not interested in that responsibility. He announced -- I read it as a suggestion -- that the Hall of Fame could make its own decisions about Rose independent of his decision to maintain the ban.

So here's your chance, proprietors of the realm: disconnect Hall votes from MLB policy and let the voters decide whether Rose and his clay feet belong next to a string of vicious racists (Ty Cobb, Tris Speaker and Kennesaw Mountain Landis, to name three), proven cheaters (Gaylord Perry) and serial adulterers (most notably Wade Boggs).

And voters, don't forget that it's not just about Pete Rose (or Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens, or Alex Rodriguez someday.) Electing them to the Hall of Fame isn't just an honor for them. It's about honoring the baseball fans who remember how Rose stole our hearts with his unprecedented hustle, how Clemens mowed down professional hitters, how ARod played the greatest shortstop we'd ever seen and how Bonds dominated the game like no one who ever played.

You Say Tomato, I Say Tomahto

Andre Dawson enters the Hall of Fame today without altering its accounts much in either direction. He is the quintessential borderline Hall of Famer.

The raw data puts Dawson in the Hall. He alone, save for spectacular company -- Barry Bonds and Willie Mays -- hit 400 homers and stole 300 bases. An all-around performer, he won eight Gold Gloves, an MVP, finished second twice, made eight All-Star games and earned Rookie of the Year in 1977. In addition, he played his first 11 seasons in the cavern in Montreal, which simultaneously dampened his batting exploits and his knee cartilage. Make no mistake, voters do the mental math on two full years' worth of injuries that drained some of his impact.

Peel the skin on his career and the flaws emerge. His .323 lifetime OBP is the worst by an outfielder in Cooperstown and demonstrates that whatever else his talents, The Hawk was below average at the single most important regular player skill -- avoiding outs. He compensated by slugging .500 just four times over 21 years and overall hit 19% better than the average player, adjusting for his ballpark. Because that compares him to second basemen and catchers as well as outfielders, it's not Hall-level impressive. By way of comparison, Jim Rice, whom I've argued was clearly not Hall quality, hit 28% better than average. Is Jim Edmonds a Hall of Famer? He's hit 32% better than average.

In addition, Dawson padded the balance sheet by hanging around long after his skills had departed. His last four years in Boston and Florida got him into the 400-homer club despite failing to contribute wins in either city.

Where Andre Dawson really makes his HoF case is on the basepaths and in the field. The scouts and stats agree that he was an exceptional centerfielder, though the objective data suggests he lost his mojo in right, where he actually spent more of his career. He also swiped 314 bases at a 74% rate, which adds 84 runs of value to his bottom line.

All of which puts Dawson on the teeter-totter for me, a better laureate than Jim Rice, worse than Tim Raines, who hit significantly better and added 500 runs on the base paths. (To be fair, he wasn't in the same stratosphere as Dawson defensively.) But the writers gave him their imprimatur, so he's a Hall of Famer and no one, not even some amateur stat geek who couldn't hit a 40 mph curve ball, can take that away from him. And for all the electrons spilled over his admission, it doesn't add or detract from the Hall of Fame much at all.

b

Missed It By Tha-a-a-t Much

I've been thinking recently whether Jorge Posada's bronze likeness has a future in Cooperstown and if not, how much more he has to save for the secret decoder ring. 

It's an apt question because while Posada has demonstrated remarkable consistency for a backstop, he can't have many more squats left in him at 39. There are also two strikes against him: 1. The Yankees won't Biggio an albatross just so he can reach a milestone like 300 homers or 1,000 RBIs. 2. The class of surefire Famers with eligibility concurrent to Posada's (and therefore competing with him) will likely be impressive.

But first, the preliminaries. Jorge Posada has been a very good catcher for a long time. Every season since he became a regular in '97 he's been an above-average hitter, substantially so whenever healthy. His lifetime .379/.480 OBP/SLG includes 20-30 home runs and 60-100 walks every year. That's a good-hitting left-fielder; it's commendable out of the squat. The defensive metrics, of which I have always been a little dubious, say he's an above-average catcher even as he approaches grizzledom.

What hurts the switch-hitting Puerto Rican is the lack of a keystone season. Posada has posted three spectacular seasons like 2000's .287/.417/.527 with 28 dingers and 35 doubles, but he's hit .300 just once, knocked in 100 runs just once, never scored 100 and never figured real high in the MVP tally.

Clearly, Posada is not in league with the all-time greats like Bench, Berra, Piazza, Carter, Dickey and Rodriguez. Baseball Prospectus rates him roughly the 12th best ever (not including Joe Mauer, who is already 2/3rds of the way to passing him), just behind Mickey Cochrane and just ahead of Ted Simmons. Cochrane was a no-doubt-about-it selection; Simmons was a Posada-type with a long, productive career lacking a spectacular peak.

One finger tipping the scales in Posada's favor is his affiliation with a dynasty. Because HOF voting is still in the hands of people ordering off the wrong menu, he will get credit for his post-season exploits, which are remarkable mostly for their volume. Regardless, I think he will lack the votes based on his current curriculum vitae.

Posada is on year three of a four-year deal and it's hard to imagine the Yankees extending him beyond age 40, particularly when their top minor league prospect, Jesus Montero, is a catcher (for now.) What can he do to stick his nose into the HOF tent between now and then? Two more seasons like 2007 would boost his overall bona fides considerably and catapult him over 1,000 runs and RBIs. (It would also probably induce someone to sign him for another year or two, if he's so inclined.) 

The problem is that the effects of his wrinkle cream have to wear off eventually and age 39 is as good a time as any. The stathead projection systems have him at around .260/.350/.450 with 16-18 homers this year, which made Brad Ausmus wet his pajamas when he dreamed of it, but isn't moving Posada any closer to the Hall.

If he comes up short, there's no shame in being one of the 15 greatest ever to don the shin pads, flashing a championship ring on each finger of his throwing hand and earning $116 million over his career. He can visit Cooperstown for free when he accompanies Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez and Mariano Rivera for their induction ceremonies.

b

Rhymes With Power This Year

While you weren't noticing, the best catcher in baseball came off the DL and began playing like the best catcher in history. In his first 100 at bats, Joe Mauer has been Johnny Bench's daddy.

Mauer has missed half of the season so far, yet ranks 10th in the AL in home runs with 12. In 102 at bats. His BarryBondsian .431/.516/.873 is certainly unsustainable, but if it foreshadows improvement beyond his already notable career splits of .323/.405/.477, he'll win the MVP -- or at least deserve it. You already could have made a case for him in '05 and '08.

Mauer may just be on a tear, but if his 12 dingers mean anything, he's certainly going to slug at a much higher rate than ever before in his career. His season high for home runs prior to '09 is 13 -- in 521 at bats. If there's any wrap against Mauer, it's his lack of power. (Hey, I'm a poet and I had no prior knoweledge of the matter.) But he's unwrapping that criticism so far in '09. On top of that, Mauer's athleticism makes him a first-rate defensive backstop

Actually, there's another knock on Mauer: his health. He's missed more than 200 games since '04, and at 6'5" 215, there's probably just too much lower limb to be squatting for 1,000+ innings a season. It's too bad, because were he able to compile a dozen seasons in that vein, he'd be a lock for bronzing near Otsego Lake. The bar is higher at third base, where he'd probably end up, than at catcher, but if this year's surge is a foreshadowing, that won't be a problem.
b

Between "Rock" and a Hard Place

The new Hall of Fame ballot includes the greatest leadoff hitter of all time -- Rickey Henderson -- who is already being fitted for a bust in Cooperstown.

It also includes arguably the second-greatest leadoff hitter of all time -- Tim Raines -- who has a Palin 2012's chance of being elected. (That is, less than none.)

I don't know if Raines is a HOFer, in part because no one knows what the criteria are, and in greater part because back in the days when we were valuing the wrong things, Raines never cracked our fame consciousness. When we look back on his career, we don't remember a guy who was dominant.

The numbers, however, beg to differ. They tell a now-familiar tale of a player whose performance was exactly matched to our blind spots.

Consider: Tim Raines never hit 20 home runs or knocked in even 80. He won one Gold Glove and never finished higher than fifth in the MVP voting. During the period of his career when he played fulltime, 1982-1995, his teams made two playoff appearances and won no pennants. He stole a lot of bases, but rarely as many as Henderson at the same time. Despite leading off for two decades, he's nowhere near 3,000 hits. That's not the stuff of HOFers.

Raines suffers because the HOF wants specialists at the top of their craft, not brilliant generalists. It wants 500-HR sluggers who took smaller leads than Norm Coleman. It wants leather-flashers who charmed the Gold Glove voters. It wants boppers lucky enough to come to the plate regularly with runners on base to drive in. Or at least that's what BBWAA voters want.

Consider the rest of Raines' CV: He hit double-digit homers seven times, mostly before the offensive era began. He posted 12 seasons of on-base prowess over .380. He racked up 400 more walks than strikeouts. The most efficient base stealer of all time, he swiped an amazing 85% of the 954 bags he chased. Despite playing in a lousy hitters' park, he finished in the top 10 in on-base percentage seven times, runs scored nine times and overall offensive performance six times. He was an excellent left fielder and a passable center fielder, right fielder and second baseman. Baseball Prospectus rates him the sixth best right fielder of all time, but even if he's the ninth or 10th or 11th best, that's still a jaunty stroll into the Hall.

My point is not that Tim Raines is a HOFer, but that failing the smell test is a poor barometer because our sense of smell is so much better -- and different -- now. Let's educate ourselves that HRs, RBIs and BA are only part of the equation when OBP, SLG, and advanced stats like EQA and VORP tell us so much more.