You may have been wondering -- or maybe you haven't. Someone in the last week has posed each of these questions and so I answer them here:
Q. Where will Jose Bautista and Mark Trumbo end up?
A. After years of slamming its finger in the same door, the market is now properly valuing aging, immobile sluggers, and it isn't pretty for their agents. I believed one of the former Blue Jays would wind up back with Toronto because they obviously have a hole to fill at that position. With the parrot carrier now poised to bash homers in Cleveland for millions less than he was seeking, I wouldn't be surprised if Joey Bats re-ups at a discount with the Jays. He isn't exactly winning Miss Congeniality votes from other teams. And Baltimore seems to be in hottest pursuit of Trumbo, but also at pennies on his expected dollar.
Q. What are the Mets going to do with their outfield situation?
A. Give Terry Collins headaches? Best guess, unless something dramatic happens: rotate Cespedes and Granderson through centerfield, giving Lagares spot starts and and shuffling him in as a defensive replacement late in games. Send the non-CF Cespedes/Grandy to right and leave Comforto in left to show he can hit. Jay Bruce is a righty bat off the bench. Lots of options if someone gets hurt or doesn't pan out.
Q. Who are your World Series favorites right now?
A. Answering this question is a fool's errand, but I'm game. The World Champion Cubs are the same team as last year, flipping Dexter Fowler for Kyle Schwarber and Aroldis Chapman for Wade Davis. In the AL, the Red Sox are poised to allow about 400 runs next year. The Cy Young winner is their #3 starter.
Q. Now that Bud Selig, who presided over the Steroid Era, is in the Hall of Fame, shouldn't we vote in guys like Bonds, Clemens and McGwire?
A. I don't really see that logic. Selig didn't cheat. That said, I've always been in favor of putting those guys in the Hall.
Here's the problem: you've got Bowie Kuhn in the Hall of Fame, a guy who had an 0-162 record fighting the players' union and who could hardly name a single accomplishment as the commissioner. You've got Gaylord Perry in the Hall, an inveterate cheater who got caught on the field altering baseballs. You've got Lloyd Waner, a thoroughly average Major Leaguer, in the Hall because he batted .316 for his career even though that was his signature skill and team batting averages topped .300 in the '30s. But you want to exclude the top player and pitcher of their era because there's evidence they took an unfair advantage during a portion of their career. It makes no sense.
Q. With the Braves signing all these old former stars, do they really think they have a chance this year?
A. Puff you're inhaler, Braves fans. These guys are just filler. They're signed to one-year deals. If they play well they'll be shipped out mid-season for more prospects.
Q. What do you make of the Diamondbacks?
A. Much like the United States of America, they hired a pair of amateur hacks to run the organization with predictable results. Now they've gotten professional management in there and find themselves with some promising young assets across the infield. Their task going forward will be to acquire some rotation pieces behind Zack Grienke or they'll never contend. Easier said than done.
Q.Not a baseball question, but what do you think of star college football players skipping their bowl games to prepare for the draft?
A. How dare they act in their own best interest! Major college football is about amateur athletics, not about some money grab, says the Buffalo Wild Wings Citrus Bowl.
Q. If Mike Trout played at replacement level for five more years and then retired after the requisite 10-year career, would he get into the Hall of Fame? How about if he was average over the next five years?
A. No and no, because you need more than five stellar seasons to make the Hall of Fame. But the premise of your question is correct. Mike Trout is the greatest player in baseball history over his first five seasons. (He was also the greatest over his first one, two, three and four.) Give him three more Trout seasons and then five bad or mediocre years and he's in.
Q. What about Sandy Koufax? He was a below average pitcher who made the Hall of Fame with five great seasons.
A. Good point. Koufax got extrapolated credit for all the years he didn't pitch after retiring early. Had he pitched at replacement level for three seasons following that unbelievable run I doubt he gets in.
Q. Will the Red Sox regret trading Clay Bucholz? You can never have too much pitching right?
A. They won't regret getting $10 million closer to the luxury tax cap.
Q. Should the Mets trade Jay Bruce?
A.
Okay, you're the GM of another team who could use a big bat. The Mets
offer you a 30-year-old .250 hitter with 30-homer pop and mediocre
defensive skills. What would you give up to get that? For now, I think
the Mets should be glad that they have some hitting options to back that
pitching staff.
Q. What do you see from the vantage point of San Diego?
A. The ocean.
Q. Come on, I mean what are the Padres' prospects for 2017.
A. At least they have the ocean.
Happy holidays to all!
Showing posts with label Hall of Fame. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hall of Fame. Show all posts
23 December 2016
22 December 2016
Rethinking Lou Brock's Hall of Fame Career
A stalwart of three World Series teams, Brock led the NL in base swipes eight times and at one point held the record for steals in a season with 118. He scored 100+ runs seven times and batted over .300 in eight seasons, finishing within three points or less three more times.
For all this, Lou Brock's likeness smiles brightly upon visitors to Cooperstown, voted that honor in his second year of eligibility.
Tim Raines stands on the precipice of Hall induction in his last
But here's the difference:
Lou Brock didn't walk much. That's a problem for a punch-and-judy leadoff hitter. His lifetime .343 OBP was good, better than average, but not table-setting material. For his career, Brock sported an OPS nine percent better than average. Keeping in mind that average includes all the weak-hitting middle infielders and backstops in baseball, Lou Brock was barely an average left fielder.
Rock Raines earned almost twice as many free passes as Brock in fewer plate appearances, giving him a .385 OBP. His OPS, despite playing half his career in knee-killing Stade Olympique, shone 23% above the median.
Defense!
I glossed over their fielding ability earlier. The metrics suggest Raines was about average in the pull corner for his entire career, about where Brock measured until he turned 30. For half his career, he rated in the butcher category. Brock lost twice as much value from his glove as Raines. (Baseball Prospectus even less sanguine on Brock.)
Then there's the matter of steals. Raines ran into outs 161 fewer times than Brock. That's a huge difference -- about 10 wins against replacement over the course of their careers.
Even without those 10 runs, Raines was still the vastly better player. According to Baseball Reference, Raines earned 69 WAR over his career and Brock just 45 -- about the same as Amos Otis. That 53% gap is the difference between surpassing the average left fielder's Hall of Fame WAR (65) and falling well short.
Why Is Lou Brock a HOFer?
We value what we measure -- in baseball and in life. Because we measured this relatively insignificant skill -- base stealing -- baseball observers in the 60s and 70s vastly over-rated Lou Brock. In addition, we didn't know how to leaven batting average with on base percentage, so Brock's pedestrian OBP was overshadowed by his excellent batting average.
We know better now, and that's why Raines's Hall support rocketed up to 70% in his penultimate year on the ballot. He has none of the milestones like 3,000 hits (he was too busy walking) or an MVP. He's simply the second best leadoff hitter of all time.
Lou Brock was nothing like that. If he were on the ballot today he wouldn't sniff the Hall.
27 September 2016
Was Jose Fernandez Headed for the Hall?
You've no doubt heard by now that Marlins' phenom Jose Fernandez was killed in a boating accident Sunday at the tender age of 24. The All-Star pitcher had a joie de vivre that lit up ballgames almost as much as his mid-90s fastball.
I have nothing to add to the touching tributes and heartfelt expressions of grief from the team and others.
I just have two observations that should be understood as mere fly's eyelashes on the larger story.
Euphemisms Need to Pass Away
First, many media references to Fernandez's death mention his "passing away." Jose Fernandez did not pass away. Life did not ebb out of him as he lay comatose in his bed. He was killed instantly in a high-speed crash against a pile of rocks. Let's stop using euphemisms about the death of a young man.
Second, Fernandez was an amazing talent. Before he even entered the Bigs at 21, he endured a Cuban defection story familiar in its contours if not exactly in its details. The story included jumping out of a boat and into shark-infested waters to save his mother.
On the diamond, he was the cold-blooded killer. In his four years -- two shortened seasons wrapped around TJ surgery -- he earned head-shaking numbers -- 38-17, 2.58 and 589 strikeouts in 471 innings. In his only full season he was voted Rookie of the Year and finished third in the Cy Young voting. This year he was an All-Star and was certain to attract Cy Young support.
Was He Headed for the Hall?
All of which had me wondering -- how much of a Hall of Fame track was Fernandez on? Do pitchers who start like him finish in Cooperstown? He was dazzling and dominating, of course, but he also brought the heat using an elbow held together by surgeon's glue and a hip flexor. The answer floored me.
For some perspective, I checked Baseball Prospectus's Active Player HOF Draft. Two wags picked players from current rosters to compile a team with the most Hall of Famers. (This contest will take years to settle.) You can guess most of the names, with Pujols, Suzuki, Beltre, Ortiz, Cabrera and Trout at the top. Fernandez was the 32nd pick, which means he is a borderline case, at least according to a duo of baseball writers. Past patterns suggest that roughly 30 players today will eventually enter the Hall.
By another measure, though, he's not close. Not one of Fernandez's closest comparables accomplished much of anything, though Jacob deGrom might someday. After him, the names are a who's who -- I mean really, who? -- Dick Hughes, Butch Wensloff, Mark Fidrych, Mark Prior and a slew of 19th century hurlers. Dick Hughes wowed the NL in 1967 with a 16-6, 2.67 performance in 221 innings at age 27 to finish second in the Rookie of the Year race. He threw 86 innings the rest of his career.
The middle two years shredded by ligament replacement are the wild card for Fernandez. If it was just a bump in the road, he was headed for enshrinement. If it was a harbinger of future issues, then Fernandez was the next Mark Prior.
Sadly, it's all moot now.
I have nothing to add to the touching tributes and heartfelt expressions of grief from the team and others.
I just have two observations that should be understood as mere fly's eyelashes on the larger story.
Euphemisms Need to Pass Away
First, many media references to Fernandez's death mention his "passing away." Jose Fernandez did not pass away. Life did not ebb out of him as he lay comatose in his bed. He was killed instantly in a high-speed crash against a pile of rocks. Let's stop using euphemisms about the death of a young man.
Second, Fernandez was an amazing talent. Before he even entered the Bigs at 21, he endured a Cuban defection story familiar in its contours if not exactly in its details. The story included jumping out of a boat and into shark-infested waters to save his mother.
On the diamond, he was the cold-blooded killer. In his four years -- two shortened seasons wrapped around TJ surgery -- he earned head-shaking numbers -- 38-17, 2.58 and 589 strikeouts in 471 innings. In his only full season he was voted Rookie of the Year and finished third in the Cy Young voting. This year he was an All-Star and was certain to attract Cy Young support.
Was He Headed for the Hall?
All of which had me wondering -- how much of a Hall of Fame track was Fernandez on? Do pitchers who start like him finish in Cooperstown? He was dazzling and dominating, of course, but he also brought the heat using an elbow held together by surgeon's glue and a hip flexor. The answer floored me.
For some perspective, I checked Baseball Prospectus's Active Player HOF Draft. Two wags picked players from current rosters to compile a team with the most Hall of Famers. (This contest will take years to settle.) You can guess most of the names, with Pujols, Suzuki, Beltre, Ortiz, Cabrera and Trout at the top. Fernandez was the 32nd pick, which means he is a borderline case, at least according to a duo of baseball writers. Past patterns suggest that roughly 30 players today will eventually enter the Hall.
By another measure, though, he's not close. Not one of Fernandez's closest comparables accomplished much of anything, though Jacob deGrom might someday. After him, the names are a who's who -- I mean really, who? -- Dick Hughes, Butch Wensloff, Mark Fidrych, Mark Prior and a slew of 19th century hurlers. Dick Hughes wowed the NL in 1967 with a 16-6, 2.67 performance in 221 innings at age 27 to finish second in the Rookie of the Year race. He threw 86 innings the rest of his career.
The middle two years shredded by ligament replacement are the wild card for Fernandez. If it was just a bump in the road, he was headed for enshrinement. If it was a harbinger of future issues, then Fernandez was the next Mark Prior.
Sadly, it's all moot now.
15 May 2016
David Ortiz Is Talking To Me
I wrote off David Ortiz's career after a hand injury sidelined him in '08 and robbed him of bat speed in '09.
I've written an open letter to him advising him to shut up.
I've justified the whispers about steroid use.
I've observed how his strict adherence to the DH role has a negative impact on his team's defense.
I've called him a fringe Hall of Famer.
And now, he's answering.
Big Papi's Retirement Tour follows a 2015 campaign in which he posted a .304 True Average. He blasted 37 homers and walked 95 times.
This year, at age 40, he's turned 2015 into a preview. He's on pace* to bat .320, slam 48 home runs and 76 doubles, for a .343 TAv.
* I feel like a doofus just writing those words. But you get the point.
For good measure, he's turned the Clutchalizer to 11. Twice last week he supplied the winning hit in the last inning. On Saturday, he tied the game in the 9th with a triple and won it in extras with a double. He had homered earlier in the game.
Ortiz has joined Barry Bonds and Hank Aaron as the only players in MLB history with 500+ homers and 600+ doubles. He'll likely pass Mickey Mantle in long balls.
And given the ball-crushing hijinx of the RSox, he has a chance to lead his charges to another World Series, or at least make some noise with the lumber in October.
It's as if Big Papi is advising me to shut up. Although in his case, it would be "shut the #@!$%! up, *&%$#@!.
It doesn't really change the equation: by the numbers, David Ortiz is a borderline case. But the narrative is pure Hall of Fame gold and it's getting more golden the more he demonstrates that he's leaving near the top of his game.
I have a new message for Big Papi: Okay, I'm convinced. You're a Hall of Famer.
I've written an open letter to him advising him to shut up.
I've justified the whispers about steroid use.
I've observed how his strict adherence to the DH role has a negative impact on his team's defense.
I've called him a fringe Hall of Famer.
And now, he's answering.
Big Papi's Retirement Tour follows a 2015 campaign in which he posted a .304 True Average. He blasted 37 homers and walked 95 times.
This year, at age 40, he's turned 2015 into a preview. He's on pace* to bat .320, slam 48 home runs and 76 doubles, for a .343 TAv.
* I feel like a doofus just writing those words. But you get the point.
For good measure, he's turned the Clutchalizer to 11. Twice last week he supplied the winning hit in the last inning. On Saturday, he tied the game in the 9th with a triple and won it in extras with a double. He had homered earlier in the game.
Ortiz has joined Barry Bonds and Hank Aaron as the only players in MLB history with 500+ homers and 600+ doubles. He'll likely pass Mickey Mantle in long balls.
And given the ball-crushing hijinx of the RSox, he has a chance to lead his charges to another World Series, or at least make some noise with the lumber in October.
It's as if Big Papi is advising me to shut up. Although in his case, it would be "shut the #@!$%! up, *&%$#@!.
It doesn't really change the equation: by the numbers, David Ortiz is a borderline case. But the narrative is pure Hall of Fame gold and it's getting more golden the more he demonstrates that he's leaving near the top of his game.
I have a new message for Big Papi: Okay, I'm convinced. You're a Hall of Famer.
02 April 2016
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)?
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
David Ortiz
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
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
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
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
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
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)?
23 December 2015
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.
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.
23 June 2015
Pete Rose Colored Glasses
There has been a lot of good, smart discussion about Pete Rose since the most recent revelation that he bet on baseball while a player, and therefore, has never stopped lying. If the door was ever cracked to Rose's return to Baseball, that loud shudder you heard yesterday was the room shaking in the shadow of a slam.
For those still clinging to sympathy for the hit king, the argument against is tough to oppose. Rose is now in league with those inveterate liars -- Lance Armstrong, Alex Rodriguez, Ryan Braun, Bill Clinton, et. al. -- who treated the truth as a strategy to be employed only when effective. MLB did then and does now exhort players endlessly about its absolute prohibition -- and the consequences if violated -- against gambling of any kind.
So therefore, goes the argument, Pete Rose, a 17-time All Star, .303 lifetime hitter, three-time batting champ, 15-time MVP candidate, and contributor of 79 lifetime WAR, that guy should be banned from the game and hence from the Hall of Fame. Smarmy creep. Lying bastard. And all that.
It's a convincing argument. Screw Pete Rose.
But how about me? How about you?
We want Pete Rose in the Hall of Fame because we want the Hall to mean something about baseball. We grew up with a Hall of Fame that welcomed Ty Cobb's virulent racism and Tris Speaker's KKK membership and Babe Ruth's serial infidelity and Mickey Mantle's raging alcoholism and Joe DiMaggio's mob ties and Gaylord Perry's career-long cheating and on and on. Now we're being asked to accept the exclusion of all-time great players like Rose, Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Alex Rodriguez and perhaps others.
It doesn't make sense. It's not just that he Hall shouldn't exclude those wanting in character; it's that it hasn't.
I say screw Pete Rose too. And Bonds, Clemens and the rest of them. But induct them into the Hall of Fame because it's not their Hall of Fame; it's mine. And I want the best players enshrined in Cooperstown.
For those still clinging to sympathy for the hit king, the argument against is tough to oppose. Rose is now in league with those inveterate liars -- Lance Armstrong, Alex Rodriguez, Ryan Braun, Bill Clinton, et. al. -- who treated the truth as a strategy to be employed only when effective. MLB did then and does now exhort players endlessly about its absolute prohibition -- and the consequences if violated -- against gambling of any kind.
So therefore, goes the argument, Pete Rose, a 17-time All Star, .303 lifetime hitter, three-time batting champ, 15-time MVP candidate, and contributor of 79 lifetime WAR, that guy should be banned from the game and hence from the Hall of Fame. Smarmy creep. Lying bastard. And all that.
It's a convincing argument. Screw Pete Rose.
But how about me? How about you?
We want Pete Rose in the Hall of Fame because we want the Hall to mean something about baseball. We grew up with a Hall of Fame that welcomed Ty Cobb's virulent racism and Tris Speaker's KKK membership and Babe Ruth's serial infidelity and Mickey Mantle's raging alcoholism and Joe DiMaggio's mob ties and Gaylord Perry's career-long cheating and on and on. Now we're being asked to accept the exclusion of all-time great players like Rose, Bonds, Clemens, McGwire, Alex Rodriguez and perhaps others.
It doesn't make sense. It's not just that he Hall shouldn't exclude those wanting in character; it's that it hasn't.
I say screw Pete Rose too. And Bonds, Clemens and the rest of them. But induct them into the Hall of Fame because it's not their Hall of Fame; it's mine. And I want the best players enshrined in Cooperstown.
24 May 2015
Where Are the All-Time Greats?
A recent spate of Hall of Fame retirements has transformed today's Major Leagues from a repository of the enshrined to a roster of stars whose exact composition is a mystery. Players who are Hall of Fame locks right now number three: Albert Pujols, Ichiro Suzuki and Miguel Cabrera.
Compare that to 10 years ago when Alex Rodriguez could have cruised into Cooperstown with hardly a dissenter. Barry Bonds, Manny Ramirez, Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Mike Piazza, Derek Jeter, Sammy Sosa, Ken Griffey Jr., Frank Thomas, Randy Johnson, Roger Clemens, Mariano Rivera, Trevor Hoffman, Mike Mussina, Kurt Schilling, Greg Madduz, John Smoltz and Tom Glavine were all dancing their waltzes into baseball history.
Purely on the merits, of course, ARod is a no doubter, just as Bonds and Clemens were. The forecast for any of them seeing their bust carved is partly dubious with a chance of impossible. Illicit performance boosting may also work against the borderline case of David Ortiz. Infielders Chase Utley and Adrian Beltre have to rate as probably nots, barring late career second acts (or third acts in Beltre's case.) Carlos Beltran's candidacy depends on how much voters have evolved to appreciate all-around skills, and then which way their coins toss.
Of course, there are some mid-career probablies out there. You have to like Buster Posey's chances, particularly if he can remain behind the plate. On top of his lifetime .300+ batting average, he owns a Rookie of the Year, an MVP and three World Championships. In his sixth season, at age 28, Posey is at it again, posting a .314 TAv.
Mike Trout, Bryce Harper, Andrew McCutchen, Giancarlo Stanton, Felix Hernandez, Clayton Kershaw and Craig Kimbrel are on promising trajectories as well, though Kimbrel has been lit up in 16 innings this year and Kershaw's powers seemed to have disappeared, Samson-style, with the loss of his hair, in his case facial. Those last three names illuminate how wanting the Majors are today in pitching greatness. The top active hurling careers belong to Mark Buehrle, Tim Hudson, Adam Wainright, Chris Carpenter and Joe Nathan, fine moundsmen all, but hardly bronze material. Other than King Felix, there will not be a single legitimate pitching candidate for a decade or so after the current backlog clears out.
Then there is Yadier Molina, who needs to keep hitting in the sunset years of his career to be considered this generation's Ivan Rodriguez. Twenty-nine-year-old Evan Longoria has a shot if he returns to the form of his first five full seasons. Joey Votto would have to maintain that consistent excellence for another decade to earn Hall stripes. And we can always dream on the second and third-year players like Puig, Cespedes, Harvey, Abreu and their ilk. But potential outnumbers fruition by a healthy margin.
Experience tells us that a couple of those named will slide off the list, just as Nomar Garciaparra, Tim Lincecum and Joe Mauer did. And others will climb on, following a path paved by Paul Molitor and Sandy Koufax, to name two. Still, it's likely that the ballot clogging now vexing Hall of Fame voting will not be an issue a decade or two from now.
Compare that to 10 years ago when Alex Rodriguez could have cruised into Cooperstown with hardly a dissenter. Barry Bonds, Manny Ramirez, Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Mike Piazza, Derek Jeter, Sammy Sosa, Ken Griffey Jr., Frank Thomas, Randy Johnson, Roger Clemens, Mariano Rivera, Trevor Hoffman, Mike Mussina, Kurt Schilling, Greg Madduz, John Smoltz and Tom Glavine were all dancing their waltzes into baseball history.
Purely on the merits, of course, ARod is a no doubter, just as Bonds and Clemens were. The forecast for any of them seeing their bust carved is partly dubious with a chance of impossible. Illicit performance boosting may also work against the borderline case of David Ortiz. Infielders Chase Utley and Adrian Beltre have to rate as probably nots, barring late career second acts (or third acts in Beltre's case.) Carlos Beltran's candidacy depends on how much voters have evolved to appreciate all-around skills, and then which way their coins toss.
Of course, there are some mid-career probablies out there. You have to like Buster Posey's chances, particularly if he can remain behind the plate. On top of his lifetime .300+ batting average, he owns a Rookie of the Year, an MVP and three World Championships. In his sixth season, at age 28, Posey is at it again, posting a .314 TAv.
Mike Trout, Bryce Harper, Andrew McCutchen, Giancarlo Stanton, Felix Hernandez, Clayton Kershaw and Craig Kimbrel are on promising trajectories as well, though Kimbrel has been lit up in 16 innings this year and Kershaw's powers seemed to have disappeared, Samson-style, with the loss of his hair, in his case facial. Those last three names illuminate how wanting the Majors are today in pitching greatness. The top active hurling careers belong to Mark Buehrle, Tim Hudson, Adam Wainright, Chris Carpenter and Joe Nathan, fine moundsmen all, but hardly bronze material. Other than King Felix, there will not be a single legitimate pitching candidate for a decade or so after the current backlog clears out.
Then there is Yadier Molina, who needs to keep hitting in the sunset years of his career to be considered this generation's Ivan Rodriguez. Twenty-nine-year-old Evan Longoria has a shot if he returns to the form of his first five full seasons. Joey Votto would have to maintain that consistent excellence for another decade to earn Hall stripes. And we can always dream on the second and third-year players like Puig, Cespedes, Harvey, Abreu and their ilk. But potential outnumbers fruition by a healthy margin.
Experience tells us that a couple of those named will slide off the list, just as Nomar Garciaparra, Tim Lincecum and Joe Mauer did. And others will climb on, following a path paved by Paul Molitor and Sandy Koufax, to name two. Still, it's likely that the ballot clogging now vexing Hall of Fame voting will not be an issue a decade or two from now.
16 January 2015
Carlos Delgado Deserves This Homage
He slammed 473 home runs and knocked in 1512 runs in his illustrious career. He posted a lifetime OPS of .929, 38% above average. He earned MVP votes seven times. He was beloved by teammates and above steroid reproach. And even in his final season, bedeviled by hip injuries, he continued his on base and slugging ways, with a .914 OPS.
And yet Carlos Delgado fell like a stone from the Hall of Fame ballot after one appearance.
Delgado was a spectacular hitter. He took walks and pounded mistakes, cracking 38 or more homers seven times and knocking home 100+ runs nine times. In 2000, at age 28, he batted .344, with 57 doubles, 41 homers and 102 walks, and posted an 1.134 OPS, 81% better than average, even in the big bat era.
Delgado lifted his teammates; just ask them. When fellow Blue Jay Shawn Green signed a big free agent deal with the Dodgers, he credited Delgado for his success.
Despite the injuries, Delgado continued slugging and served as an eminence grise with the Mets during their 2006 playoff run, the only one of his career. He left the game with 500 homers in sight but his dignity intact. He remains the Blue Jays' career leader in home runs, RBIs, doubles, walks, runs scored and OPS. ESPN's Jayson Stark calls him "the best player in history to get booted off the Hall of Fame ballot after his first year."
Carlos Delgado wasn't a Hall of Famer. History is littered with immobile sluggers at first base; Delgado posted the 35th most WAR among players at his position. The logjam on the ballot, combined with a paucity of post-season heroics, further conspired against him. But Carlos Delgado deserves to be remembered for his near-great career.
And yet Carlos Delgado fell like a stone from the Hall of Fame ballot after one appearance.
Delgado was a spectacular hitter. He took walks and pounded mistakes, cracking 38 or more homers seven times and knocking home 100+ runs nine times. In 2000, at age 28, he batted .344, with 57 doubles, 41 homers and 102 walks, and posted an 1.134 OPS, 81% better than average, even in the big bat era.
Delgado lifted his teammates; just ask them. When fellow Blue Jay Shawn Green signed a big free agent deal with the Dodgers, he credited Delgado for his success.
Despite the injuries, Delgado continued slugging and served as an eminence grise with the Mets during their 2006 playoff run, the only one of his career. He left the game with 500 homers in sight but his dignity intact. He remains the Blue Jays' career leader in home runs, RBIs, doubles, walks, runs scored and OPS. ESPN's Jayson Stark calls him "the best player in history to get booted off the Hall of Fame ballot after his first year."
Carlos Delgado wasn't a Hall of Famer. History is littered with immobile sluggers at first base; Delgado posted the 35th most WAR among players at his position. The logjam on the ballot, combined with a paucity of post-season heroics, further conspired against him. But Carlos Delgado deserves to be remembered for his near-great career.
06 January 2015
The Oddity In Hall Voting
In the wake of the big reveal on this year's Hall of Fame election, we can quibble, even gladiate, over who, among those on the ballot, deserved a bust in Cooperstown. Those whose enshrinement is being debated were among the greatest baseballers on Planet Earth, regardless of whether or not they make your cut or mine.
I can't plausibly argue that Sammy Sosa doesn't deserve consideration, even though he doesn't get my vote. Nor can you argue likewise against Tim Raines or Curt Schilling. It's not as if F.P. Santangelo's immortality is at issue here.
In fact, the one concept about which nearly everyone agrees is that this year's ballot positively bulges with legitimate candidates. It's the very basis of Jayson Stark's complaint. In a previous post, I counted 12 certifiable no-doubters, without even taking into account several who merited further consideration.
Yet the average voter only selected 8.4 names. How could that be?
Some Theories That Don't Hold Up
I understand that a couple of writers handed in blank ballots. However, it would have taken 85 blank ballots to skew the results so low.
I understand that much of the electorate refuses to check the box next to the names of known steroid users, like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, even though they were the best in the game before they evidently began using. (I mean, I don't understand it, but I understand that it is the case.) Nonetheless, there were available down-ballot candidates to fill their spots, like Edgar Martinez (the greatest DH of all time), Alan Trammel (one of the 15 best shortstops of all-time) and Mike Mussina (every bit as good as John Smoltz except he never accumulated stats out of the pen).
I understand that not everyone with a BBWAA card can comprehend, or come to terms with, those newfangled sabermertronics invented by Billy Beane in Moneyball. So they vote on standards -- like 300 pitching wins -- that were actually discredited by Bill James starting in 1977. In other words, before Ronald Reagan was president; before Germany was one country; before Microsoft existed; before today's 54-year-olds graduated high school.
I understand that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for Mike Piazza, or Jeff Bagwell, or Raines. Presumably some of those who would (inexplicably, to be honest) eschew one or more of those three would find some merit in Jeff Kent, Mark McGwire or (the transparently unworthy) Lee Smith. One way or another, it's hard to fathom failing to find 10 qualified candidates from among this gaggle.
The "Me" Decade
So how do these voters average one-and-a-half blank spaces? It appears that as the number of voters has grown, now above 570, the number of voters seeking their own unique identity has ballooned. There is some significant minority of voters who want to stand out, or make a stand, or stand aside. They vote exclusively for steroid suspects, or exclude anyone with a PED whisper in his dossier. (How else to explain the lack of support for Bagwell, a guy with a 149 OPS+, a great glove at first, 202 stolen bases at a 72% success rate and MVP votes after 10 seasons?)
Or they employ some pretzel logic that would make Michele Bachmann blush, so as to appear cooly contrarian, enigmatically erudite, or just plain inscrutable. Swathed in the downy comfort of 570 other votes, their franchise has become an expression of their individuality, rather than a referendum on the players' Hall of Fame credentials.
In short, it appears that for a small but growing number of BBWAA members, the Hall of Fame vote is about the voter and not the Hall. And it's going to cost some all-time greats their place in Cooperstown.
I can't plausibly argue that Sammy Sosa doesn't deserve consideration, even though he doesn't get my vote. Nor can you argue likewise against Tim Raines or Curt Schilling. It's not as if F.P. Santangelo's immortality is at issue here.
In fact, the one concept about which nearly everyone agrees is that this year's ballot positively bulges with legitimate candidates. It's the very basis of Jayson Stark's complaint. In a previous post, I counted 12 certifiable no-doubters, without even taking into account several who merited further consideration.
Yet the average voter only selected 8.4 names. How could that be?
Some Theories That Don't Hold Up
I understand that a couple of writers handed in blank ballots. However, it would have taken 85 blank ballots to skew the results so low.
I understand that much of the electorate refuses to check the box next to the names of known steroid users, like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, even though they were the best in the game before they evidently began using. (I mean, I don't understand it, but I understand that it is the case.) Nonetheless, there were available down-ballot candidates to fill their spots, like Edgar Martinez (the greatest DH of all time), Alan Trammel (one of the 15 best shortstops of all-time) and Mike Mussina (every bit as good as John Smoltz except he never accumulated stats out of the pen).
I understand that not everyone with a BBWAA card can comprehend, or come to terms with, those newfangled sabermertronics invented by Billy Beane in Moneyball. So they vote on standards -- like 300 pitching wins -- that were actually discredited by Bill James starting in 1977. In other words, before Ronald Reagan was president; before Germany was one country; before Microsoft existed; before today's 54-year-olds graduated high school.
I understand that not everyone shares my enthusiasm for Mike Piazza, or Jeff Bagwell, or Raines. Presumably some of those who would (inexplicably, to be honest) eschew one or more of those three would find some merit in Jeff Kent, Mark McGwire or (the transparently unworthy) Lee Smith. One way or another, it's hard to fathom failing to find 10 qualified candidates from among this gaggle.
The "Me" Decade
So how do these voters average one-and-a-half blank spaces? It appears that as the number of voters has grown, now above 570, the number of voters seeking their own unique identity has ballooned. There is some significant minority of voters who want to stand out, or make a stand, or stand aside. They vote exclusively for steroid suspects, or exclude anyone with a PED whisper in his dossier. (How else to explain the lack of support for Bagwell, a guy with a 149 OPS+, a great glove at first, 202 stolen bases at a 72% success rate and MVP votes after 10 seasons?)
Or they employ some pretzel logic that would make Michele Bachmann blush, so as to appear cooly contrarian, enigmatically erudite, or just plain inscrutable. Swathed in the downy comfort of 570 other votes, their franchise has become an expression of their individuality, rather than a referendum on the players' Hall of Fame credentials.
In short, it appears that for a small but growing number of BBWAA members, the Hall of Fame vote is about the voter and not the Hall. And it's going to cost some all-time greats their place in Cooperstown.
28 November 2014
Why I Would Leave Bagwell and Biggio Off My HOF Ballot
Jacque Brel and others have observed that baseball is life. But when it comes to elections, it's the opposite of life.
In the real world, mediocre candidates rise to the ballot and leave us with too few options to choose even one worthy victor.
We can stuff the Hall of Fame ballot with 10 names but still be forced to exclude deserving honorees.
The ballot has been released to the voting coterie and the latest batch of eligibles includes Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez and John Smoltz.
They join Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Craig Biggio, Mike Piazza, Jeff Bagwell, Tim Raines, Mike Mussina, Curt Schilling and Edgar Martinez awaiting their enshrinement.
That's 12 certain HOFers for only 10 slots. And it doesn't even include the line-straddlers -- Mark McGwire, Alan Trammel, Gary Sheffield, Jeff Kent and Sammy Sosa. Or the dark horses: Fred McGriff and Larry Walker.
Of the 12 I'm touting, every one of them has accumulated 59 or more WAR over his career. Piazza is the greatest-hitting catcher of all time. Edgar is the best DH in history, and for what it's worth, maybe the best gap hitter as well. Schilling and Mussina were consistently superb workhorses. Big Unit and Smoltz hardly require an introduction and Clemens is one of the 10 greatest pitchers in baseball history.
Bonds is on the Mount Rushmore of five-tool players with Mays, Mantle, Aaron and maybe Griffey. Bagwell and Biggio were five-tool infielders and Tim Raines the second-best speed-first player in the annals of the game. These 12 are, in my view, all no-doubters.
There's no point in worrying about the borderline Famers right now; I have to pare my ballot, at least in the make-believe world in which I get a vote. I'd leave off Biggio and Bagwell, still both early in their eligibility, and carve their busts together next year.
Obviously the election process is not just about merits on the diamond. Votes will be withheld because of steroid accusations -- some supported and some mere whispers. I don't know what to do with the issue, and I don't know what I don't know about it, so I've decided to ignore it, particularly with respect to players whose lifetime achievements clear the bar by such a wide margin.
Maybe you'd vote differently; that's the beauty of democracy. Though in this case, you would be challenged to make a credible non-drug case against anyone on my list.
In the real world, mediocre candidates rise to the ballot and leave us with too few options to choose even one worthy victor.
We can stuff the Hall of Fame ballot with 10 names but still be forced to exclude deserving honorees.
The ballot has been released to the voting coterie and the latest batch of eligibles includes Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez and John Smoltz.
They join Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Craig Biggio, Mike Piazza, Jeff Bagwell, Tim Raines, Mike Mussina, Curt Schilling and Edgar Martinez awaiting their enshrinement.
That's 12 certain HOFers for only 10 slots. And it doesn't even include the line-straddlers -- Mark McGwire, Alan Trammel, Gary Sheffield, Jeff Kent and Sammy Sosa. Or the dark horses: Fred McGriff and Larry Walker.
Of the 12 I'm touting, every one of them has accumulated 59 or more WAR over his career. Piazza is the greatest-hitting catcher of all time. Edgar is the best DH in history, and for what it's worth, maybe the best gap hitter as well. Schilling and Mussina were consistently superb workhorses. Big Unit and Smoltz hardly require an introduction and Clemens is one of the 10 greatest pitchers in baseball history.
Bonds is on the Mount Rushmore of five-tool players with Mays, Mantle, Aaron and maybe Griffey. Bagwell and Biggio were five-tool infielders and Tim Raines the second-best speed-first player in the annals of the game. These 12 are, in my view, all no-doubters.
There's no point in worrying about the borderline Famers right now; I have to pare my ballot, at least in the make-believe world in which I get a vote. I'd leave off Biggio and Bagwell, still both early in their eligibility, and carve their busts together next year.
Obviously the election process is not just about merits on the diamond. Votes will be withheld because of steroid accusations -- some supported and some mere whispers. I don't know what to do with the issue, and I don't know what I don't know about it, so I've decided to ignore it, particularly with respect to players whose lifetime achievements clear the bar by such a wide margin.
Maybe you'd vote differently; that's the beauty of democracy. Though in this case, you would be challenged to make a credible non-drug case against anyone on my list.
16 November 2014
Where Have All the Hall of Famers Gone?
My friends and I used to play a game that went like this: If they retired today, which current Major Leaguers would be in the Hall of Fame. In the previous decade, the number ran towards 20 -- Maddux, Glavine, Smoltz, Randy Johnson, Bonds, McGwire, Pedro, Manny, Pudge, ARod, Clemens, Frank Thomas and so on.
Try that game today. With Jeter retired, the sure picks left are ARod, Ichiro, Miggy and Prince Albert. (I'm ignoring the steroids conundrum.) Robby Cano's getting close but he probably has work to do. The Trouts and Kershaws of the world may be destined, but patience, grasshopper.
You could make a case, albeit a losing one, for Adrian Beltre, Carlos Beltran and David Ortiz. Beltran's case requires appreciation for sustained very good play over a long time. Ortiz needs help from the "clutch leader" narrative because his greatness, dramatic though it's been, started too late to craft a Hall resume.
As for pitchers, there aren't any far along the pipeline. The top hurlers by wins against replacement are Tim Hudson, Mark Buehrle, CC Sabathia and Johan Santana. None of them is close to the standards set for Cooperstown.
We can certainly dream on a clutch of players. Posey, Mauer, King Felix, Evan Longoria, Joey Votto, Tulo, Verlander, 'Cutch, Bryce Harper, Giancarlo, MadBum, etc. But we remember Dwight Gooden, Nomar Garciaparra and their ilk, who exploded like meteors and burned out quickly well short of enshrinement.
In case you're wondering, the dearth of greats is indicative of nothing. These things come in waves and the most recent wave has passed. Fear not: the next one is already gathering.
Try that game today. With Jeter retired, the sure picks left are ARod, Ichiro, Miggy and Prince Albert. (I'm ignoring the steroids conundrum.) Robby Cano's getting close but he probably has work to do. The Trouts and Kershaws of the world may be destined, but patience, grasshopper.
You could make a case, albeit a losing one, for Adrian Beltre, Carlos Beltran and David Ortiz. Beltran's case requires appreciation for sustained very good play over a long time. Ortiz needs help from the "clutch leader" narrative because his greatness, dramatic though it's been, started too late to craft a Hall resume.
As for pitchers, there aren't any far along the pipeline. The top hurlers by wins against replacement are Tim Hudson, Mark Buehrle, CC Sabathia and Johan Santana. None of them is close to the standards set for Cooperstown.
We can certainly dream on a clutch of players. Posey, Mauer, King Felix, Evan Longoria, Joey Votto, Tulo, Verlander, 'Cutch, Bryce Harper, Giancarlo, MadBum, etc. But we remember Dwight Gooden, Nomar Garciaparra and their ilk, who exploded like meteors and burned out quickly well short of enshrinement.
In case you're wondering, the dearth of greats is indicative of nothing. These things come in waves and the most recent wave has passed. Fear not: the next one is already gathering.
28 March 2014
The Number in Miguel Cabrera's Contract That Makes No Sense
The most surprising aspect of Miguel Cabrera's new extension, which kicks in after the current contract expires in two years, when he'll be 33, isn't that it continues to pay into his baseball dotage (age 41 season) or that it commits the Tigers to shelling out $31 million-a-year until 2024 or that it guarantees his grandchildren another $290 million or that the Detroit pulled the trigger on it a year-and-a-half before they had to.
The most surprising aspect of this story is that a guy who's hit 30%-87% better than league average every year since 2004, a guy who's topped .300 eight times, a guy with 365 home runs and 1260 RBI, who's earned eight All-Star selections and received MVP votes for 11 seasons . . . is just 31 years old. How could this be?
Miguel Cabrera entered the Major Leagues at age 20 in 2003 and outpaced league average with his bat. A fixture at third by season's end, he helped the Marlins win the World Series. It seems like a generation ago, back when Ice Cube was a rapper, Blockbuster video was the hot new thing and Todd Zeile manned the hot corner for the Montreal Expos.
By the following season Cabrera was authoring a line of .294/.366/.512 with 33 home runs. And then he proceeded to improve. Dramatically.
Since 2004 -- that's 10 years ago -- Miguel Cabrera has been one of the five best hitters in the world. In his last three seasons, Cabrera has averaged .340/.427/.609 with 77 extra base hits (38 doubles, 37 homers) in a park not particularly accommodating to offense. That's 77% above league average, a number that's Gehrigian. Or if you prefer aMaysing (except better.)
At age 31, he's two peak seasons from the Hall of Fame, three if he experiences normal decline. And then he'll have eight more years, at $31 million-a-year guaranteed, to gild that Hall of Fame lily.
We're numb to the millions. But Miguel Cabrera's only 31 years old? That's crazy talk.
The most surprising aspect of this story is that a guy who's hit 30%-87% better than league average every year since 2004, a guy who's topped .300 eight times, a guy with 365 home runs and 1260 RBI, who's earned eight All-Star selections and received MVP votes for 11 seasons . . . is just 31 years old. How could this be?
Miguel Cabrera entered the Major Leagues at age 20 in 2003 and outpaced league average with his bat. A fixture at third by season's end, he helped the Marlins win the World Series. It seems like a generation ago, back when Ice Cube was a rapper, Blockbuster video was the hot new thing and Todd Zeile manned the hot corner for the Montreal Expos.
By the following season Cabrera was authoring a line of .294/.366/.512 with 33 home runs. And then he proceeded to improve. Dramatically.
Since 2004 -- that's 10 years ago -- Miguel Cabrera has been one of the five best hitters in the world. In his last three seasons, Cabrera has averaged .340/.427/.609 with 77 extra base hits (38 doubles, 37 homers) in a park not particularly accommodating to offense. That's 77% above league average, a number that's Gehrigian. Or if you prefer aMaysing (except better.)
At age 31, he's two peak seasons from the Hall of Fame, three if he experiences normal decline. And then he'll have eight more years, at $31 million-a-year guaranteed, to gild that Hall of Fame lily.
We're numb to the millions. But Miguel Cabrera's only 31 years old? That's crazy talk.
10 January 2014
Let the Gnashing of Teeth Commence
Your guy didn't get into the Baseball Hall of Fame this year. He was the best player on your favorite team or he once signed an autograph for your kid when he didn't have to. Enlightened voters recognize how great he was but the majority has failed to achieve that exalted state. Or he's one of the greatest players of all time and you feel that the bellyaching about unproven drug use is utterly beside the point.
He didn't get elected by the Baseball Writers this year but he might next year, or the year after, or in 2016.
Or a guy you despise did get in. You hate him. He always killed your team. He cursed out your kid in a parking lot. He wasn't as good a player as that other guy who is still waiting.
Whatever the reason, you are taking it out on the Baseball Writers this year. They're a sclerotic old lot who get positions for life even if they haven't covered a game since Duffy Dyer's Expo season. Their ranks don't include broadcasters, meaning cantankerous Neanderthal Murray Chass has a vote, but Vin Scully does not. They couldn't find their way to enshrine seven or eight surefire Hall of Famers this year after failing to elect anyone last year. Let the gnashing of teeth commence.
At the risk of defending a generally incompetent lot, calm down. The selection committee, whoever they've been over the years, has done a pretty good job of honoring the worthy eventually and declining the rest. Who's the worst player elected in the last 40 years by the writers? (Not by the Veterans Committee, which has an execrable record of throwing the doors open for their friends.) Tony Perez? Andre Dawson? Kirby Puckett? Catfish Hunter? Bruce Sutter? There's a level of nitpicking there, no?
It's not like U.L. Washington earned a spot because of his unique toothpicking abilities. Within a couple of percentage points, the crowd wisdom, even of baseball writers, knows wheat from chaff.
Who is the best player definitively barred in the last generation? (Let's skip Mike Piazza, Mike Mussina, Curt Schilling and their ilk. They are still eligible for election.) Lou Whitaker? Bobby Grich? David Cone?
The BBWAA sometimes takes a circuitous route, but they ultimately get it right 98% of the time. It's a standard we'd be thrilled to apply to government social programs (they'd all disappear), blog predictions and gas gauges. (But not to airplane flights.) Cell coverage is spotty and you have to reboot your computer a lot more than two percent of the time.
So cut the Hall some slack. The backlog will work itself out. Biggio and Bagwell will get in. The steroid guys are a complication whose code no one has yet cracked. And if they crash on Edgar Martinez or Tim Raines, well, we all have our blind spots. As Mets announcer Bob Murphy used to say, that's why they put erasers on pencils.
And in case you're wondering why Jack Morris ultimately fell short, consider this: To end his career with Morris's IP and ERA+, Kevin Appier would need to throw 1228 2/3 more innings with a 6.23 ERA. If you think Kevin Appier's career, with seven full seasons of well below-replacement level pitching added on, equals a Hall of Famer, then you have a right to be upset. But you wouldn't have the acumen of a baseball writer.
He didn't get elected by the Baseball Writers this year but he might next year, or the year after, or in 2016.
Or a guy you despise did get in. You hate him. He always killed your team. He cursed out your kid in a parking lot. He wasn't as good a player as that other guy who is still waiting.
Whatever the reason, you are taking it out on the Baseball Writers this year. They're a sclerotic old lot who get positions for life even if they haven't covered a game since Duffy Dyer's Expo season. Their ranks don't include broadcasters, meaning cantankerous Neanderthal Murray Chass has a vote, but Vin Scully does not. They couldn't find their way to enshrine seven or eight surefire Hall of Famers this year after failing to elect anyone last year. Let the gnashing of teeth commence.
At the risk of defending a generally incompetent lot, calm down. The selection committee, whoever they've been over the years, has done a pretty good job of honoring the worthy eventually and declining the rest. Who's the worst player elected in the last 40 years by the writers? (Not by the Veterans Committee, which has an execrable record of throwing the doors open for their friends.) Tony Perez? Andre Dawson? Kirby Puckett? Catfish Hunter? Bruce Sutter? There's a level of nitpicking there, no?
It's not like U.L. Washington earned a spot because of his unique toothpicking abilities. Within a couple of percentage points, the crowd wisdom, even of baseball writers, knows wheat from chaff.
Who is the best player definitively barred in the last generation? (Let's skip Mike Piazza, Mike Mussina, Curt Schilling and their ilk. They are still eligible for election.) Lou Whitaker? Bobby Grich? David Cone?
The BBWAA sometimes takes a circuitous route, but they ultimately get it right 98% of the time. It's a standard we'd be thrilled to apply to government social programs (they'd all disappear), blog predictions and gas gauges. (But not to airplane flights.) Cell coverage is spotty and you have to reboot your computer a lot more than two percent of the time.
So cut the Hall some slack. The backlog will work itself out. Biggio and Bagwell will get in. The steroid guys are a complication whose code no one has yet cracked. And if they crash on Edgar Martinez or Tim Raines, well, we all have our blind spots. As Mets announcer Bob Murphy used to say, that's why they put erasers on pencils.
And in case you're wondering why Jack Morris ultimately fell short, consider this: To end his career with Morris's IP and ERA+, Kevin Appier would need to throw 1228 2/3 more innings with a 6.23 ERA. If you think Kevin Appier's career, with seven full seasons of well below-replacement level pitching added on, equals a Hall of Famer, then you have a right to be upset. But you wouldn't have the acumen of a baseball writer.
11 December 2013
Roy Hallafame?
By hanging up his cleats at the age of 36, Roy Halladay has set in motion a good, old-fashioned brouhaha over his Cooperstown credentials.
Halladay is credited with winning just 203 games, rarely enough to secure a bust in the august Hall. Bill James established the inadequacy of measuring pitcher wins in 1979, when Jimmy Carter was president, but word hasn't yet reached everyone just 34 years later. Communication is instantaneous in 2013, but only if received.
The shortage of wins are a symptom of a different problem facing Halladay's Hall candidacy. He pitched sporadically for four years until age 25 and threw only 62 innings because of shoulder woes at age 36. In between, he had only 11 years to make his case. That he got close enough to incite debate is a testament to how dominant Roy Halladay was.
Over a 10 year period (2002-2011) the gangly right-hander was the best moundsman in the game. He led the Majors four times in innings pitched, seven times in complete games, twice in wins and five times in K/BB ratio. His .697 winning percentage, for what it's worth, paced the Majors, and his 2.97 ERA trumped league average by a whopping 48%. He captured a Cy Young on merit in each league and finished in the top five of voting seven times.
The obvious comparison for anyone making a short career case for a pitcher is Sandy Koufax. Koufax was far more dominant over his best six years but nowhere near as dominant over 10.
The difference is that Koufax retired at the height of his powers. We mentally extrapolate his career and wonder how long he could have continued frustrating hitters. No need to wonder about Roy Halladay: he was done. His career denouement of 4-5, 6.82 with more walks and home runs allowed in 62 innings than in all of 2011's 233 frames followed his worst season in a decade. Together, they speak to the trajectory of Halladay's pitching skills. At 37 next season, even a bounce-back wouldn't likely last more than a season or two.
And so, Roy Halladay's final wins against replacement tally comes up 42nd all-time among pitchers, squarely borderline in a Hall of Fame currently comprising 70 hurlers. Were he electing to retire with the same accomplishments at age 34, or coming off another stellar season, we could reasonably grant him three or four more seasons of respectability sufficient to inflate his career numbers to middling Hall of Fame territory. That, unfortunately, is not the case.
A Hall vote for Halladay five years hence would certainly be defensible. But without any reasonable expectation that he could bolster his resume, he appears to come up short.
Halladay is credited with winning just 203 games, rarely enough to secure a bust in the august Hall. Bill James established the inadequacy of measuring pitcher wins in 1979, when Jimmy Carter was president, but word hasn't yet reached everyone just 34 years later. Communication is instantaneous in 2013, but only if received.
The shortage of wins are a symptom of a different problem facing Halladay's Hall candidacy. He pitched sporadically for four years until age 25 and threw only 62 innings because of shoulder woes at age 36. In between, he had only 11 years to make his case. That he got close enough to incite debate is a testament to how dominant Roy Halladay was.
Over a 10 year period (2002-2011) the gangly right-hander was the best moundsman in the game. He led the Majors four times in innings pitched, seven times in complete games, twice in wins and five times in K/BB ratio. His .697 winning percentage, for what it's worth, paced the Majors, and his 2.97 ERA trumped league average by a whopping 48%. He captured a Cy Young on merit in each league and finished in the top five of voting seven times.
The obvious comparison for anyone making a short career case for a pitcher is Sandy Koufax. Koufax was far more dominant over his best six years but nowhere near as dominant over 10.
The difference is that Koufax retired at the height of his powers. We mentally extrapolate his career and wonder how long he could have continued frustrating hitters. No need to wonder about Roy Halladay: he was done. His career denouement of 4-5, 6.82 with more walks and home runs allowed in 62 innings than in all of 2011's 233 frames followed his worst season in a decade. Together, they speak to the trajectory of Halladay's pitching skills. At 37 next season, even a bounce-back wouldn't likely last more than a season or two.
And so, Roy Halladay's final wins against replacement tally comes up 42nd all-time among pitchers, squarely borderline in a Hall of Fame currently comprising 70 hurlers. Were he electing to retire with the same accomplishments at age 34, or coming off another stellar season, we could reasonably grant him three or four more seasons of respectability sufficient to inflate his career numbers to middling Hall of Fame territory. That, unfortunately, is not the case.
A Hall vote for Halladay five years hence would certainly be defensible. But without any reasonable expectation that he could bolster his resume, he appears to come up short.
10 December 2013
Hall Monitor: The Veterans Committee Hates Credibility
The Veteran's Committee voted three managers into Baseball's Hall of Fame this week. They passed on the man who made all three rich -- Marvin Miller.
The managers, Bobby Cox, Joe Torre and Tony LaRussa, skippered eight World Champs and led their teams to more than 7,500 victories. Voters like wins and like to attribute them to individuals.
Marvin Miller skippered the players' union out of the Dark Ages and into the Modern Era when players have rights and earn their fair share of skyrocketing revenues. Since he took over the union and won the right to free agency, average salaries have leaped roughly 4,000 percent. Voters liked the Dark Ages and don't like high player salaries.
The three managers captained their teams to 37 losing seasons combined. Voters aren't real interested in inconvenient facts.
Marvin Miller never seemed to lose a single battle with Baseball's establishment. In fact, the main criticism against him is that he won too much power for his constituents. Voters don't like it when guys who aren't as smart as they are make a lot more money.
Tony LaRussa is credited with some innovations that have affected the game long-term, such as the ninth-inning specialist, the LOOGY (left-handed, one-out guy) and the good-hitting pitcher batting eighth. Voters like innovation. Cox and Torre, despite their years of managerial success, are not known for any strategic innovations and are not likely to have long-term impact on the game. Voters like innovation but they like wins better. Wins are easy to count.
Marvin Miller's hot brand is stamped on every Major League game, every Major League team, every Major League player, every Major League front office and every baseball fan literally every single day. His impact is ubiquitous every day and will last as long as Major League Baseball does. Voters who are writers are upset that their own union has no teeth. Voters who were players think they earned their millions on their own.
Miller's critics argue that he went too far and corrupted the game with money. They preferred when owners kept their millions and treated players like indentured servants. How're those same people enjoying the endless pitching changes that are Tony LaRussa's legacy?
Joe Torre had a losing record until he inherited Bernie Williams, Derek Jeter, Tino Martinez, Wade Boggs, Tim Raines, Andy Pettitte, Kenny Rogers, Jimmy Key, Paul O'Neil, John Wetteland, Mariano Rivera, Roger Clemens, David Cone, Jorge Posada, David Wells, Jason Giambi, Alfonso Soriano, Mike Mussina, El Duque, Johnny Damon, Chien-Ming Wang and Alex Rodriguez. Does anyone really know how much of Joe Torre's managerial success resulted from great managing and how much from historically great talent?
In his first nine years of managing, Bobby Cox's teams won six more games than they lost before he inherited Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, John Smoltz, Chipper and Andruw Jones, et. al. There's somewhat more evidence of his aptitude inasmuch as the general manager who brought those players to the team was the very same Bobby Cox. In addition, many fewer of Cox's charges than Torre's arrived with pedigrees already established. Nonetheless, can we really be sure that Hall of Fame team leadership was the key to sustained excellence in Fulton County?
One cannot credibly dispute that Marvin Miller is the greatest sports union chief of all time. One can credibly dispute the aptitude of almost any manager, particularly Joe Torre and Bobby Cox, whose skippering brilliance just happened to coincide with the accumulation of Hall of Fame players.
The Veterans Committee doesn't like credibility.
The managers, Bobby Cox, Joe Torre and Tony LaRussa, skippered eight World Champs and led their teams to more than 7,500 victories. Voters like wins and like to attribute them to individuals.
Marvin Miller skippered the players' union out of the Dark Ages and into the Modern Era when players have rights and earn their fair share of skyrocketing revenues. Since he took over the union and won the right to free agency, average salaries have leaped roughly 4,000 percent. Voters liked the Dark Ages and don't like high player salaries.
The three managers captained their teams to 37 losing seasons combined. Voters aren't real interested in inconvenient facts.
Marvin Miller never seemed to lose a single battle with Baseball's establishment. In fact, the main criticism against him is that he won too much power for his constituents. Voters don't like it when guys who aren't as smart as they are make a lot more money.
Tony LaRussa is credited with some innovations that have affected the game long-term, such as the ninth-inning specialist, the LOOGY (left-handed, one-out guy) and the good-hitting pitcher batting eighth. Voters like innovation. Cox and Torre, despite their years of managerial success, are not known for any strategic innovations and are not likely to have long-term impact on the game. Voters like innovation but they like wins better. Wins are easy to count.
Marvin Miller's hot brand is stamped on every Major League game, every Major League team, every Major League player, every Major League front office and every baseball fan literally every single day. His impact is ubiquitous every day and will last as long as Major League Baseball does. Voters who are writers are upset that their own union has no teeth. Voters who were players think they earned their millions on their own.
Miller's critics argue that he went too far and corrupted the game with money. They preferred when owners kept their millions and treated players like indentured servants. How're those same people enjoying the endless pitching changes that are Tony LaRussa's legacy?
Joe Torre had a losing record until he inherited Bernie Williams, Derek Jeter, Tino Martinez, Wade Boggs, Tim Raines, Andy Pettitte, Kenny Rogers, Jimmy Key, Paul O'Neil, John Wetteland, Mariano Rivera, Roger Clemens, David Cone, Jorge Posada, David Wells, Jason Giambi, Alfonso Soriano, Mike Mussina, El Duque, Johnny Damon, Chien-Ming Wang and Alex Rodriguez. Does anyone really know how much of Joe Torre's managerial success resulted from great managing and how much from historically great talent?
In his first nine years of managing, Bobby Cox's teams won six more games than they lost before he inherited Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, John Smoltz, Chipper and Andruw Jones, et. al. There's somewhat more evidence of his aptitude inasmuch as the general manager who brought those players to the team was the very same Bobby Cox. In addition, many fewer of Cox's charges than Torre's arrived with pedigrees already established. Nonetheless, can we really be sure that Hall of Fame team leadership was the key to sustained excellence in Fulton County?
One cannot credibly dispute that Marvin Miller is the greatest sports union chief of all time. One can credibly dispute the aptitude of almost any manager, particularly Joe Torre and Bobby Cox, whose skippering brilliance just happened to coincide with the accumulation of Hall of Fame players.
The Veterans Committee doesn't like credibility.
30 November 2013
Stuffed Turkey of a Hall of Fame Ballot
The Hall of Fame ballot for 2014 has been released, in much the way hounds are released in a wild goose hunt, with 17 legitimate candidates on the list. With only 10 lines on the ballot, voters are going to be doing some triage.
Players on the ballot fall into five categories. The easy two are those who have earned shoo-in status to the Hall and those who merely played with guys who earned shoo-in status. (That's not to say that anyone actually is a shoo-ins; there's no accounting for taste and the ignorance of baseball writers.) We'll call them the "Lou Gehrig" division and the "Chico Ruiz" division. Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Mike Mussina, Kurt Schilling, Jeff Bagwell, Mike Piazza, Frank Thomas, Tim Raines and Craig Biggio comprise the former group, about which no further discussion is really necessary. They're Famers.
Names such as Armando Benitez, J.T. Snow, Eric Gagne, Mike Timlin, Jacque Jones and Richie Sexson populate the list of merely good Major Leaguers. They will have to console themselves with fame, fortune and a boatload of frequent flyer miles.
Next we have the "Pete Rose" division: players whose membership in the Gehrig clan has been revoked because of drug use. Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire could almost create their own wing in Cooperstown along with Rose and Shoeless Joe Jackson. I would vote for all of these except Palmeiro, who failed a drug test. The rest were so unquestionably spectacular that our suspicions (not to mention a fair bit of evidence) might be overwhelmed the heft of their greatness. It's understandable that voters would exclude all or some of these, though it's not clear what the point of a Hall of Fame without Bonds and Clemens would be.
Then there's the "Sammy Sosa" division, whose members are: Sammy Sosa. Sosa probably took steroids, definitely corked his back and not withstanding all that might be a Hall of Famer. Mix up that witches' brew and there probably won't be much support for his candidacy.
The most taxing decisions concern those players whose numbers don't reflect how we felt about them. This is the "Bobby Grich" division. The advanced stats testify that Alan Trammel was a great-fielding shortstop with a highly respectable .285/.352/.415 slash line, 1200+ runs scored and an MVP season, worth 64 wins against replacement over a 20-year career. Certainly he was a good hitter for a shortstop but most of his career value grades out on the field, about which it's very hard not to be dubious.
Larry Walker hit .313/.400/.525 with 383 home runs and 1311 RBI. He also won Gold Gloves, though the number crunchers can't find any justification for them. On paper, that's a walk-through, but in Coors, there are a lot of questions. In Montreal, Walker was Clark Kent, climbing the corporate ladder slowly but surely with smart reporting and solid management skills. In the thin air of Denver, Walker became Superman, saving the world with his super-strength, flying cape and x-ray vision. In the six years between 1997 and 2002, he posted five amazing seasons, averaging .351/.439/.639. He's credited with 69 wins against replacement, which ordinarily is enough to buy real estate in Cooperstown. It's just that Coors turned Andres Galarraga and Dante Bichette into stars.
By any second-base standards, Jeff Kent was a great hitter. He also wasn't a second baseman. But by first base standards, he was just another guy, posting a .290/.356/.500 line and smacking 377 home runs, including a string of 11 years with 20+ home runs. He knew that his only ticket to the Hall was remaining at the keystone even if his defense was handcuffing his teams. So Kent finished with 57 wins against replacement and a strong argument for inclusion. He makes my ballot with reservations.
On the flip side, Don Mattingly was an awesome hitter until his back began biting into his power. He finished with numbers insufficient for a first baseman to win election, tallying just 41 wins against replacement. Fred McGriff's 493 homers, .377 on base percentage and cool nickname should be enough to vault him to baseball immortality. He smacked 30+ big flies 10 different times. He also DH'd, did nothing on the bases and changed teams six times. The seamheads peg him at 57 wins against replacement, and that might have felt like enough if he'd played most of his career for one or two teams.
So here's my ballot, ignoring the 10-candidate limit, in roughly the order of their greatness:
Barry Bonds
Greg Maddux
Roger Clemens
Mike Piazza
Tim Raines
Frank Thomas
Mike Mussina
Curt Schilling
Tom Glavine
Jeff Bagwell
Craig Biggio
Jeff Kent*
Alan Trammel**
Fred McGriff**
Larry Walker**
Jack Morris***
*probably
**not now but I could be persuaded
***shut up
Players on the ballot fall into five categories. The easy two are those who have earned shoo-in status to the Hall and those who merely played with guys who earned shoo-in status. (That's not to say that anyone actually is a shoo-ins; there's no accounting for taste and the ignorance of baseball writers.) We'll call them the "Lou Gehrig" division and the "Chico Ruiz" division. Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Mike Mussina, Kurt Schilling, Jeff Bagwell, Mike Piazza, Frank Thomas, Tim Raines and Craig Biggio comprise the former group, about which no further discussion is really necessary. They're Famers.
Names such as Armando Benitez, J.T. Snow, Eric Gagne, Mike Timlin, Jacque Jones and Richie Sexson populate the list of merely good Major Leaguers. They will have to console themselves with fame, fortune and a boatload of frequent flyer miles.
Next we have the "Pete Rose" division: players whose membership in the Gehrig clan has been revoked because of drug use. Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Rafael Palmeiro and Mark McGwire could almost create their own wing in Cooperstown along with Rose and Shoeless Joe Jackson. I would vote for all of these except Palmeiro, who failed a drug test. The rest were so unquestionably spectacular that our suspicions (not to mention a fair bit of evidence) might be overwhelmed the heft of their greatness. It's understandable that voters would exclude all or some of these, though it's not clear what the point of a Hall of Fame without Bonds and Clemens would be.
Then there's the "Sammy Sosa" division, whose members are: Sammy Sosa. Sosa probably took steroids, definitely corked his back and not withstanding all that might be a Hall of Famer. Mix up that witches' brew and there probably won't be much support for his candidacy.
The most taxing decisions concern those players whose numbers don't reflect how we felt about them. This is the "Bobby Grich" division. The advanced stats testify that Alan Trammel was a great-fielding shortstop with a highly respectable .285/.352/.415 slash line, 1200+ runs scored and an MVP season, worth 64 wins against replacement over a 20-year career. Certainly he was a good hitter for a shortstop but most of his career value grades out on the field, about which it's very hard not to be dubious.
Larry Walker hit .313/.400/.525 with 383 home runs and 1311 RBI. He also won Gold Gloves, though the number crunchers can't find any justification for them. On paper, that's a walk-through, but in Coors, there are a lot of questions. In Montreal, Walker was Clark Kent, climbing the corporate ladder slowly but surely with smart reporting and solid management skills. In the thin air of Denver, Walker became Superman, saving the world with his super-strength, flying cape and x-ray vision. In the six years between 1997 and 2002, he posted five amazing seasons, averaging .351/.439/.639. He's credited with 69 wins against replacement, which ordinarily is enough to buy real estate in Cooperstown. It's just that Coors turned Andres Galarraga and Dante Bichette into stars.
By any second-base standards, Jeff Kent was a great hitter. He also wasn't a second baseman. But by first base standards, he was just another guy, posting a .290/.356/.500 line and smacking 377 home runs, including a string of 11 years with 20+ home runs. He knew that his only ticket to the Hall was remaining at the keystone even if his defense was handcuffing his teams. So Kent finished with 57 wins against replacement and a strong argument for inclusion. He makes my ballot with reservations.
On the flip side, Don Mattingly was an awesome hitter until his back began biting into his power. He finished with numbers insufficient for a first baseman to win election, tallying just 41 wins against replacement. Fred McGriff's 493 homers, .377 on base percentage and cool nickname should be enough to vault him to baseball immortality. He smacked 30+ big flies 10 different times. He also DH'd, did nothing on the bases and changed teams six times. The seamheads peg him at 57 wins against replacement, and that might have felt like enough if he'd played most of his career for one or two teams.
So here's my ballot, ignoring the 10-candidate limit, in roughly the order of their greatness:
Barry Bonds
Greg Maddux
Roger Clemens
Mike Piazza
Tim Raines
Frank Thomas
Mike Mussina
Curt Schilling
Tom Glavine
Jeff Bagwell
Craig Biggio
Jeff Kent*
Alan Trammel**
Fred McGriff**
Larry Walker**
Jack Morris***
*probably
**not now but I could be persuaded
***shut up
18 May 2013
Alburquerque in Toledo . . .and Other Tales
Alburquerque Now In Toledo
After uncorking 13 walks and six wild pitches in 14 innings, Tiger reliever Al Albuquerque has been optioned to the Triple-A club in central Ohio.
Can't wait for Houston Street to get traded to the Astros.
Brandon Phillips Leads League in RBI
After 40 games, Brandon Phillips leads the NL in RBIs with 36. Has he got some RBI magic or is he swimming in opportunities?
Yes.
Overall, Phillips is hitting just .286 with seven home runs. But he's delivering at a .450 clip with runners in scoring position.
Which is often. Phillips hits fourth in the Reds' lineup behind Shin-soo Choo (.452 OBP) and Joey Votto (.462 OBP).
Phillips is unlikely to renew his clutch-hitting subscription. But his opportunities club card is good for the entire season as long as Choo and Votto remain in the lineup. Barring injury, "Dat Dude" should tally his first 100-RBI season. And then he should take Choo and Votto out to dinner.
Ah, Choo
Speaking of Choo, he's lucky to be playing in this era. The 30-year-old right fielder is exactly the kind of heads-up five-tool player whose body of work was largely invisible in the pre-sabermetric days.
Since he began playing regularly for the Indians in 2008, Choo has averaged .293 with 18 homers and 73 RBI. But today we know that only scratches the surface.
Shin-soo Choo is an on-base machine who has lots of gap power. His .293/.389/.477 performance with an average of 17 steals at a 77% success rate makes him worth 34% more than the average hitter over that five-plus years. He's been worth 23 wins against replacement with the bat during that time, about four-and-a-half per year. That's perennial all-star territory.
By way of comparison, Ryan Howard's best five consecutive years with the stick were worth 18.3 wins, despite pounding 229 homers and bringing home 680 runs. Not to pick on Howard: Joe Carter's best six years added the same number of wins as Howard's five. His 180 homers, 652 RBI and 142 SB belied a .311 OBP. Carter got Hall of Fame votes.
Ten years ago, players like Shin-soo Choo were dismissed as complimentary parts and denied credit for the RBIs accumulated by the batters behind them. Today, we recognize all of Choo's attributes and more fully appreciate him. And when the baseball writers catch up to the rest of us, they'll finally elect Tim Raines to the Hall of Fame.
Bud No Weiser
During baseball games, Budweiser is proudly advertising their new "bowtie" shaped can. They are officially out of ideas.
All Or Nothing In Cincinnati Lineup
Cincinnati has struggled to score runs on occasion this year despite Votto, Choo, Phillips and Jay Bruce. If you're wondering why, here's the rest of the lineup and their OPS (an average starter has about a .750 OPS):
Todd Frazier, .693
Zack Cozrt, .573
Devin Mesoraco, .660
Xavier Paul, .792
And the first two guys off the bench, Chris Heisey and Ryan Hannigan, have OPS in the 400s.
With the starting core and first rate pitching to start and finish games, the Reds are a playoff threat. Another bat could really help.
Fact of the Day
Fox Sports mentioned this on their national broadcast: In 14 years as a Major Leaguer, 10 as a fulltime starter, Bronson Arroyo has never missed a start.
A quintessentially average pitcher throughout his career, (lifetime 104 ERA+) Arroyo's durability and innings consumption have tremendous value to his team. At $11.5 million, his salary is right in the ballpark.
After uncorking 13 walks and six wild pitches in 14 innings, Tiger reliever Al Albuquerque has been optioned to the Triple-A club in central Ohio.
Can't wait for Houston Street to get traded to the Astros.
Brandon Phillips Leads League in RBI
After 40 games, Brandon Phillips leads the NL in RBIs with 36. Has he got some RBI magic or is he swimming in opportunities?
Yes.
Overall, Phillips is hitting just .286 with seven home runs. But he's delivering at a .450 clip with runners in scoring position.
Which is often. Phillips hits fourth in the Reds' lineup behind Shin-soo Choo (.452 OBP) and Joey Votto (.462 OBP).
Phillips is unlikely to renew his clutch-hitting subscription. But his opportunities club card is good for the entire season as long as Choo and Votto remain in the lineup. Barring injury, "Dat Dude" should tally his first 100-RBI season. And then he should take Choo and Votto out to dinner.
Ah, Choo
Speaking of Choo, he's lucky to be playing in this era. The 30-year-old right fielder is exactly the kind of heads-up five-tool player whose body of work was largely invisible in the pre-sabermetric days.
Since he began playing regularly for the Indians in 2008, Choo has averaged .293 with 18 homers and 73 RBI. But today we know that only scratches the surface.
Shin-soo Choo is an on-base machine who has lots of gap power. His .293/.389/.477 performance with an average of 17 steals at a 77% success rate makes him worth 34% more than the average hitter over that five-plus years. He's been worth 23 wins against replacement with the bat during that time, about four-and-a-half per year. That's perennial all-star territory.
By way of comparison, Ryan Howard's best five consecutive years with the stick were worth 18.3 wins, despite pounding 229 homers and bringing home 680 runs. Not to pick on Howard: Joe Carter's best six years added the same number of wins as Howard's five. His 180 homers, 652 RBI and 142 SB belied a .311 OBP. Carter got Hall of Fame votes.
Ten years ago, players like Shin-soo Choo were dismissed as complimentary parts and denied credit for the RBIs accumulated by the batters behind them. Today, we recognize all of Choo's attributes and more fully appreciate him. And when the baseball writers catch up to the rest of us, they'll finally elect Tim Raines to the Hall of Fame.
Bud No Weiser
During baseball games, Budweiser is proudly advertising their new "bowtie" shaped can. They are officially out of ideas.
All Or Nothing In Cincinnati Lineup
Cincinnati has struggled to score runs on occasion this year despite Votto, Choo, Phillips and Jay Bruce. If you're wondering why, here's the rest of the lineup and their OPS (an average starter has about a .750 OPS):
Todd Frazier, .693
Zack Cozrt, .573
Devin Mesoraco, .660
Xavier Paul, .792
And the first two guys off the bench, Chris Heisey and Ryan Hannigan, have OPS in the 400s.
With the starting core and first rate pitching to start and finish games, the Reds are a playoff threat. Another bat could really help.
Fact of the Day
Fox Sports mentioned this on their national broadcast: In 14 years as a Major Leaguer, 10 as a fulltime starter, Bronson Arroyo has never missed a start.
A quintessentially average pitcher throughout his career, (lifetime 104 ERA+) Arroyo's durability and innings consumption have tremendous value to his team. At $11.5 million, his salary is right in the ballpark.
03 March 2013
Just One More Good Year
Sandy Koufax's bifurcated Major League career would have made Henry Jekyll proud: the mediocre first half (seven years, 36-40, 4.06, six wins against replacement) and the spectacular second half (six years, 129-47, 2.24, 44 wins against replacement.)
Considering the totality of his career achievements, Koufax is a pale shadow of the average Hall of Fame hurler. Yet omitting the Left Arm of God from Cooperstown is unthinkable. His peak years, in which he posted ERAs an astonishing 43%, 59%, 86%, 60% and 90% better than league average, were the equal of anyone's, ever.
Where Koufax's career was an avalanche, Don Sutton's was the inexorable drip, drip, drip of a waterfall in drought. Sutton truly excelled in just three seasons, but his reliably good performance across 23 years earned him a bust in the Hall as well.
Thus the premise for the widely used "JAWS" rankings for Hall of Fame contenders: both full career value and peak value are relevant. Whereas some players earn their ceremony for sustained excellence, others get in with bursts of greatness.
This is why 2013 is so important for Robinson Cano's Hall of Fame resume. Cano has not played nearly long enough to accumulate the career numbers for the Hall, but another eight-win season catapults him to average peak WARP for Hall of Fame second basemen. After that, it would just be a matter of accumulating the remaining 30 WARP or so over the second half of his career. That feat is accomplished by playing well, if not spectacularly, for another six-seven years before tailing off in his late 30s.
It's not quite fair to say Cano's age-30 season is a make-or-break campaign for his Hall of Fame resume. He's young enough, after all, to slip for a year or two before rebounding in another season. The Hall is filled with gentlemen who were absent from the discussion at age 30 but sprang into it thereafter. Paul Molitor jumps to mind: although he was a seriously fine player in his first nine seasons, he'd never cracked .842 in OPS before his age-30 campaign. In his 30s, he perenially batted above .300, crossing .850 OPS six times, including three seasons above .900. Molitor also contributed value to the Brewers - and then Toronto and Minnesota -- every year through his age-40 season.
More numerous are the meteors who start their career on fire but flame out just when this discussion might have begun. Dwight Gooden found his cliff at age 25, but Fred Lynn posted five 4+-win seasons in his first seven years, then starting after age-30 never reached that height again.
So it's premature to place the burden of Robby Cano's Hall of Fame case on the shoulders of 2013. But another performance like last year's, or the year before or the year before that, begins to put him in the rarefied air that is breathed only along Otsego Lake.
Injuries limited Roy Halladay to 156 innings and a 4.49 ERA in 2012, adding almost nothing to his Hall pass. A bounce-back 2013 would really solidify the case for old Harry Leroy, because he's right at the standards on both career and peak. He owes some of his voluminous value to durability -- 220 innings or more in each of the six years previous to last -- which Hall voters and the general public seem to esteem less than actual greatness. Another top-five pitching performance this year would make it difficult to deny Halladay entrance in 2020, or whenever. The question is whether at 36 he possesses the might to once again throw 230 frames of sub-3.00 ERA. (There is this hope: it's a contract year for Halladay.)
The noodle just began wrapping around this question and these two names emerged from the goo. If you are thinking of a player whose ticket might be one more good year from getting punched, put his name in the comment section and we'll dig in.
Considering the totality of his career achievements, Koufax is a pale shadow of the average Hall of Fame hurler. Yet omitting the Left Arm of God from Cooperstown is unthinkable. His peak years, in which he posted ERAs an astonishing 43%, 59%, 86%, 60% and 90% better than league average, were the equal of anyone's, ever.
Where Koufax's career was an avalanche, Don Sutton's was the inexorable drip, drip, drip of a waterfall in drought. Sutton truly excelled in just three seasons, but his reliably good performance across 23 years earned him a bust in the Hall as well.
Thus the premise for the widely used "JAWS" rankings for Hall of Fame contenders: both full career value and peak value are relevant. Whereas some players earn their ceremony for sustained excellence, others get in with bursts of greatness.
This is why 2013 is so important for Robinson Cano's Hall of Fame resume. Cano has not played nearly long enough to accumulate the career numbers for the Hall, but another eight-win season catapults him to average peak WARP for Hall of Fame second basemen. After that, it would just be a matter of accumulating the remaining 30 WARP or so over the second half of his career. That feat is accomplished by playing well, if not spectacularly, for another six-seven years before tailing off in his late 30s.
It's not quite fair to say Cano's age-30 season is a make-or-break campaign for his Hall of Fame resume. He's young enough, after all, to slip for a year or two before rebounding in another season. The Hall is filled with gentlemen who were absent from the discussion at age 30 but sprang into it thereafter. Paul Molitor jumps to mind: although he was a seriously fine player in his first nine seasons, he'd never cracked .842 in OPS before his age-30 campaign. In his 30s, he perenially batted above .300, crossing .850 OPS six times, including three seasons above .900. Molitor also contributed value to the Brewers - and then Toronto and Minnesota -- every year through his age-40 season.
More numerous are the meteors who start their career on fire but flame out just when this discussion might have begun. Dwight Gooden found his cliff at age 25, but Fred Lynn posted five 4+-win seasons in his first seven years, then starting after age-30 never reached that height again.
So it's premature to place the burden of Robby Cano's Hall of Fame case on the shoulders of 2013. But another performance like last year's, or the year before or the year before that, begins to put him in the rarefied air that is breathed only along Otsego Lake.
Injuries limited Roy Halladay to 156 innings and a 4.49 ERA in 2012, adding almost nothing to his Hall pass. A bounce-back 2013 would really solidify the case for old Harry Leroy, because he's right at the standards on both career and peak. He owes some of his voluminous value to durability -- 220 innings or more in each of the six years previous to last -- which Hall voters and the general public seem to esteem less than actual greatness. Another top-five pitching performance this year would make it difficult to deny Halladay entrance in 2020, or whenever. The question is whether at 36 he possesses the might to once again throw 230 frames of sub-3.00 ERA. (There is this hope: it's a contract year for Halladay.)
The noodle just began wrapping around this question and these two names emerged from the goo. If you are thinking of a player whose ticket might be one more good year from getting punched, put his name in the comment section and we'll dig in.
09 January 2013
Hall Aflame
At the risk of driving over an old road: I understand how baseball writers can deny steroid users Bonds and Clemens first-ballot Hall of Fame status.
But how do they justify slamming the door in the faces of Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, Tim Raines, Curt Schilling and Edgar Martinez?
And Mike Piazza? If the greatest hitting catcher of all time isn't a Hall of Famer, then Bowie Kuhn really does belong.
Just for grins, let's recap the career that two of every five writers dismissed. In 15 seasons (plus a cup-a-Joe) he hit .308/.377/.545, the highest OPS for any catcher in history. He belted 427 homers, the most all-time by a guy who primarily caught. That's despite playing all but five games of his career in bomb shelters -- Dodger Stadium, Shea Stadium, Petco and whatever they call that monstrosity in Oakland.
He hit 43% above average, which is to say twice as well as an average backstop. He hit .300+ for eight straight seasons and finished in the top 10 of MVP voting seven times. With the lumber, he is the superior of everyone in the history of the planet who has ever squatted behind the plate.
By no accounts was Piazza an asset defensively. Baseball-Reference.com rates his career about replacement level in the field. But that hardly offsets his 63 wins above replacement at the plate. The average HOF catcher is at about 49 wins above replacement.
There has been some sniffing among the voting writers that links Piazza with steroids. Any journalist relying on innuendo to besmirch one of the greatest careers in the annals of the sport deserves to be fired, much less have his BBWAA card burned. Since when is innuendo a credible source?
The writers whiffed this year and the result is a HOF ceremony in August that will induct three men long dead before a crowd of dozens and a flood of empty Cooperstown hotel rooms. Bu Selig has got to be cringing.
The baseball writers have managed the impossible. They've made Gary Bettman look good.
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