The Finalists
Posted: September 17th, 2008 | Filed under: Baseball | 59 Comments »
The Hall of Fame announced on Tuesday that 10 finalists will be considered by the veteran’s committee for election next year. All ten were outstanding players, of course, and this is my only point today. Obviously, none of the ten were voted in by the Baseball Writers, and I’m not entirely certain that I would have voted for many of the ten myself (although I do think, being a little bit more of a Big Hall guy myself, that I would have voted for several of them).
Today, though, I don’t want to make the arguments against Maury Wills or Jim Kaat. I just want to make a short case for each of the ten. Some of us spend so much time writing why someone should NOT be in the Hall of Fame*, that maybe we lose a little perspective that this whole thing is supposed to be fun, that Halls of Fame are there to celebrate the game, to help us remember good times and wonderful ballplayers, and maybe we sometimes forget that anyone whose name seriously comes up for Hall of Fame consideration was, in the least, a wonderful ballplayer.
*I would imagine that there have been 100,000 or so words killed on this site to argue against Jack Morris alone.
It’s also worth mentioning that if any of these ten was elected, he would not be the worst player in the Hall of Fame, not by a longshot.
* * *
Dick Allen
Major achievements: MVP in 1972 … Rookie of the year in 1964 … Seven time All-Star … Led league in slugging (3 times), home runs (2 times), adjusted OPS+ (3 times) and runs created (2 times). …. Nineteenth all-time in career OPS+
What has kept him out of the Hall: Career was short; Was viewed by many as a pain in the neck.
The case: Dick Allen played in probably the worst hitting time after the Dead Ball era. He was Richie Allen when he had one of the great rookie years in baseball history in 1964. He hit .318/.382/.557 with 29 homers, 91 RBIs and 125 runs scored. But even though we all want to believe that baseball is a timeless game, we all realize that the numbers are about context. And 1964 was a hard year on hitters.
If you go to Baseball Reference and neutralize Allen’s 1964 numbers you get this: .339/.405/.594 with 32 homers, 106 RBIs, 145 runs scored.
If you put those numbers in Texas, say, 2003, you get this: .352/.418/.617 with 34 homers, 116 RBIs, 159 runs scored.
If you put those numbers in the Baker Bowl in Philadelphia in 1930, you get this: .367/.447/.663 with 36 homers, 134 RBIs, 183 runs scored.
Allen was one of the great right-handed hitters in baseball history. He started to go south at 33, and was completely done at 35. But from 1964 to 1974 — those dreadful hitting years in baseball — he may have been the best hitter in the game.
* * *
Major achievements: Drove in 100+ RBIs seven consecutive seasons … Eight-time All Star … Won three Gold Gloves, including the first Gold Glove at first base, and undoubtedly would have won more if there had been a Gold Glove award in his prime … Was Top 10 in home runs ten times. … Sixth man to hit four homers in a game* … Managed the Miracle Mets in 1969 … Winner of the Lou Gehrig Award in 1959.
*I originally had that he was the second man, behind Gehrig, to hit four homers. Brilliant reader David in NYC points out that he was actually sixth all-time — fourth since 1900. I’m not precisely sure where I got the statistic, but I stand corrected.
What has kept him out: Late start because he was a Marine gunner during World War II; Career numbers fall just short and he never led the league in any individual category.
The case: With Hodges — as was the case with Buck O’Neil — I think the narrowness of the Hall of Fame comes into question here. Gil Hodges was a very good player. He hit with power (though, admittedly, helped by his cozy ballpark), and he took a walk and played a good defensive first base. But Hodges played a much bigger role in baseball. He was an iconic player in Brooklyn, an ex-Marine, and it was said (perhaps apocryphally) that he was the only Dodger never to get booed at home. He was a leader for one of the greatest and most famous teams in baseball history.
More, he later became the manager of the Miracle Mets. My point with Buck O’Neil always was that the Hall of Fame committee did him and his baseball life a terrible disservice by dividing and conquering his achievements, by looking at him as ONLY a player or ONLY a manager or ONLY a scout or ONLY a pioneer or ONLY a spokesman. He was all those things. I don’t know if Gil Hodges was quite a Hall of Fame player … depends on where you draw the line. But it’s close. Let’s do the math on it:
Hall of Fame line: 100 points.
Gil Hodges as player: 82 points.
Obviously this is just a game, and I’m picking numbers out of the air, but you already know the point. Now there was Hodges as an iconic figure in baseball.
Hall of Fame line: 100 points.
Gil Hodges as icon, leader, representative of the game: 13 points.
Then there was Hodges as the manager of the 1969 New York Mets. He took over the team in ‘68, they took huge strides, and then in ‘69 he led probably the most stunning World Series winner in baseball history.
Hall of Fame line: 100 points.
Gil Hodges as manager: 53 points.
OK, you see where I’m going here. Taken one, he doesn’t get in. But all three put him, in my mind, WAY over the threshold. Now, of course, the Hall of Fame is not a mathematical riddle, and there is no Hall of Fame line, and the only real way to decide if someone belongs in the Hall of Fame is to determine if you believe that his “record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played” is worthy of the Hall of Fame. Taht’s what is written on the official ballot. Gil Hodges sure seems to fit.
* * *
Major achievements: Won 283 games … Won 25 games in 1966 and almost certainly would have won the American League Cy Young Award, but that was the last year of one Cy Young for both leagues, which Sandy Koufax won … Finished Top 10 in walks per nine innings 13 times, twice leading the league … Three time All-Star … Won 16 consecutive Gold Gloves.
What has kept him out: Didn’t quite reach 300 victories … Was viewed by many as more of a compiler than a great pitcher.
The case: Well, the first thing to mention about Kaat is that he has a case as the greatest fielding pitcher in baseball history. Maybe that doesn’t get him into the Hall of Fame. But it certainly is a strong point in his favor, and combined with his 283 victories, there’s a pretty compelling case here.
But Kaat’s case gives us a good chance to discuss the role of awards … and Alan Trammell. I have long believed that:
Point A: Alan Trammell should have won the MVP award in 1987.
I think that point is almost impossible to argue. Trammell lost to award to Toronto’s George Bell, despite hitting for a much higher average, posting a much higher on-base percentage, having a 155 OPS+ (to Bell’s 146), stealing 21 bases (to Bell’s 5), and, oh yeah, playing high-quality shortstop compared to Bell’s bored left field. That one’s not close, a blowout, made all the more so by the fact that Trammell’s Tigers BEAT OUT Bell’s Blue Jays. I don’t have the time or inclination to look it up now, but I cannot off the top of my head remember the last time the CLEARLY INFERIOR PLAYER from the NON-PLAYOFF TEAM won the MVP award over a the CLEARLY SUPERIOR PLAYER who BEAT OUT THAT TEAM FOR THE PLAYOFFS.
I’m sure there are some people I’m just not thinking about now. Anyway, that’s Point A.
Point B: If Alan Trammell had an MVP award, I expect he would be viewed as a more serious Hall of Fame candidate.
I cannot prove this. But I believe this to be true. This whole thing is more art than science, but I suspect Bruce Sutter’s Cy Young is, inevitably, what separated him from Dan Quisenberry (who should have won at least one, maybe two Cy Youngs). I suspect Catfish Hunter’s Cy Young made him a more serious candidate in many people’s minds. I suspect Dennis Eckersley’s Cy Young and MVP award helped him get into the Hall as well.
I should make clear … I’m not saying awards get people in. Jim Rice won an MVP and it has taken him forever. Andre Dawson won a (flawed) MVP and is very much on the bubble. Dave Parker won an MVP, Dale Murphy won two MVPs, Roger Maris won two MVPs, Don Mattingly won an MVP, Fred Lynn won an MVP and Rookie of the Year in the same year and so on, and I suspect none of them will get inducted. I’m not saying awards get people in … Randy Jones isn’t going to get into the Hall of Fame because he won a Cy Young Award. But I do believe that for many who have borderline Hall of Fame cases, a major award can really raise their stature. I feel almost certain that if Bert Blyleven had a Cy Young Award he’d be in the Hall of Fame right now.
Which brings us back around to Jim Kaat. He absolutely should have an American Cy Young Award. His case is even more clear than Trammell’s. There is absolutely no doubt he should have won the award in 1966. He won 25 games — five more than Denny McLain who was the only other 20 game winner. He had an excellent 2.75 ERA. He led the league in complete games, fewest walks per nine, there is absolutely, positively no doubt that the voters should have voted him the Cy.
Trouble is, as mentioned, there was no American League Cy Young Award in 1966. It was that last year of the joint Cy Young, and while Kaat was clearly the American League guy (he finished fifth in the MVP voting, no other pitcher finished in the Top 10), that was the year in the National League Sandy Koufax went 27-9 with the 1.73 ERA and 317 strikeouts.
So, for a fluke of timing, Jim Kaat would have a Cy Young. Would that make difference for Hall of Fame voters. Maybe I’m off, but I say yes. I’m not sure it would have gotten him in, but his candidacy never quite had the spark to take off and I think that might have made a difference.
* * *
Major achievements: Three-time batting champ … Career .304 batting average … Eight-time All-Star … Led league in runs (1 time), hits (5 times), total bases (1 time), doubles (4 times), runs created (1 time). … Was Rookie of the Year in 1964 and twice finished runner up for the MVP.
What has kept him out: Had a short, injury-plagued career so his counting stats do not overwhelm the voters.
The case: Oliva was one of the great pure hitters of his or any other time; Bill James remains convinced that nobody ever more wicked foul balls than Oliva. He did not make it to the big leagues full-time until he was 25, almost 26, but he was awesome as a rookie (.323/.359/.557 OPS+ of 150) and could easily have been MVP in his second year (finished second to his teammate Zoilo Versalles despite having a much, much better offensive season (his batting AVERAGE was better than Versalles’ on-base percentage).
In fact, through his first eight years Oliva was very much a Hall of Famer. He had made the All-Star team every year, he had won those three batting titles (the last one as a 32-year-old), he had a .313 batting average and a .507 slugging percentage despite playing in that savage time for hitters. He had also won a Gold Glove. It’s pretty widely assumed that his all-out playing style broke down his body, and Oliva more or less was done at 33.
* * *
Major achievements: Batting champ at age 35 … Career .303 batting average … Seven-time All-Star … Led league in games, hits, total bases, doubles (2 times) and runs created … Batted .300 or better eleven times.
What has kept him out: Career numbers fall a bit short and he did not walk much or hit with great power.
The case: The 1970s was the heyday for the Al Oliver kind of player. I would describe an Al Oliver type of player like this: High average guy, doesn’t walk much, can’t run much, hits for moderate power (but not enough to get anyone excited), cracks a few doubles.
The most famous Al Oliver type was not Al Oliver. It was Steve Garvey. He and Al Oliver are each other’s top Baseball Reference Comp, though of course they could not have been more different in many ways. Oliver was left-handed, Garvey right-handed, Oliver black, Garvey white, Oliver outspoken and easily offended, Garvey Captain America and political. But the numbers don’t lie.
Oliver: .303/.344/.451 with 2,743 hits, 219 homers, 1189 runs, 1326 RBIs, 84 steals, 121 OPS+.
Garvey: .294/.329/.446 with 2,599 hits, 272 homers, 1143 runs, 1308 RBIs, 83 steals, 116 OPS+.
In other words: Oliver out-Garveyed Garvey. But there were lots of others guys from that era — Lou Piniella, Bill Buckner, Carney Lansford, Greg Gross come to mind — who kind of fit that mold. I originally thought of a few others like Mike Hargrove, Bob Watson, Keith Hernandez, but as brilliant reader Eric pointed out those guys walked quite often so they’re not exact.
For a while, Oliver would talk about how he was the same exact player as George Brett but he was not getting the same attention. He left the reasons to the imagination, mostly, but it was clear where he was going with it.
That was probably not entirely fair to Brett. Oliver’s best year by quite a substantial amound was 1982 when he hit .331/.392/.514 with 22 homers, 109 RBIs and 90 runs scored. He had an OPS+ of 150 that year.That’s one heck of a year. But Brett probably had six years — 1979, 1980, 1983, 1985, 1988 and 1990 — that were about as good as that year or better (he was a lot better in 1980 and 1985).
Still, the point does stand that Oliver at his very best was a great player, and there’s no doubt that year (and a couple of others) could easily be slipped into George Brett’s Baseball Reference Page and nobody would notice.
* * *
Major achievements: Led league in hits twice and runs once … Cracked 2,757 hits in his career, which places him in the Top 50 all-time … Two-time All-Star (though he played in both All-Star Games in 1959 and 1960 … that was back when they had two All-Star Games each year). … Twice led league in doubles and triples … Won Gold Glove in 1961.
What has kept him out: Like Oliver, he did not quite get to 3,000 hits; career tailed off pretty badly after he turned 30.
The case: I realize that I’m supposed to make the case for Pinson here — quickly, he was a terrific combination of power and speed as a young player, he hit .343 in 1960 and posted a 142 OPS+ in 1963 — but I have to share with you quickly the story of how legendary Cincinnati sportswriter Earl Lawson got punched by Pinson and actually put out a warrant to have him arrested for assault. I run across these stories in research (DId I mention I’m writing a book about the 1975 Cincinnati Reds) and I have no place for them in the book.
It began in 1962, and Lawson wrote a scathing column about the Reds. I know it’s popular to say that decorum has really fallen off, but I’ll tell you I think sportswriters could be plenty vicious long before Al invented the Internets and John came up with the Blackberry. From Lawson’s column — this section is about Gordy Coleman.
“The way first baseman Gordy Coleman is fielding his position he might just as well be wearing the glove on his foot. Then again, more balls might wind up in it if he had id dangling from the back of his belt. Coleman doesn’t figure to pick up any ”shiners“ from bad hops, but he may wind up with a few knots on the back of the head.
”And the way he shies away from fences going after pop fouls balls, you’d think they were rigged with high tension wire.“
It is worth pointing out here that Gordy Coleman was NOT the one who hit Lawson. It was Vada Pinson.
”Pinson, gifted with extraordinary speed, should be one of the loops standout defensive players. He’s far from it. The Red centerfielder, first looking over toward Frank Robinson in right field, as if awaiting an OK to chase the ball, permitted a towering fifth inning drive by Sievers to drop into right center for a triple. Result — another Philly run.“
Apparently, Coleman took it hard and did consider going after Lawson — at least according to Lawson’s own account in ”Cincinnati Seasons“ — but he decided to move on. Pinson did not.
”You gutless bleep-bleeper,“ he said to Lawson.
”Vada, if you want a piece of me, then come and get it. I’m not going to run from you,“ Lawson replied.
Again, this is Lawson’s account. Still, nobody really denies what happened after that. In the clubhouse, Pinson said to Lawson: ”That story you wrote, were you kidding or were you serious?“
Lawson said: ”Of course I was serious.“
And Pinson clocked him. Lawson then got up and went after Pinson, though he was not entirely sure what he could do when he got there, but the whole thing got broken up. Lawson went upstairs to write a column which led:
”I got punched again.“
Yeah. Again. Johnny Temple had hit Lawson five years earlier. Popular guy. But believe it or not we STILL have not gotten to the part where Pinson got arrested. That happened late in 1963, when Lawson wrote a column saying, ”Bunts could make champ of Pinson.“ It’s hard to imagine that there was much to complain about Vada Pinson in 1963, his best year. Still, Lawson wrote that Pinson’s ”stubborn refusal to capitalize on his tremendous speed by dragging an occasional bunt probably would cost him the National League batting crown.“
Pinson was so upset — though really, in Lawson terms, that seems pretty tame — that he grabbed Lawson the next day, cocked his fist, ripped his shirt. Lawson burst into the managers office, asked to use the phone, and called the police while, he says, Frank Robinson and Leo Cardenas screamed obscenities at him.
I cannot believe I had never heard this story. The case actually went to trial, and a hung jury was declared. It was going to trial again when Lawson, figuring he had proved his point, dropped the charges.
* * *
Major achievements: Nine time All-Star … Five-time Gold Glove winner … Led league in on-base percentage twice … Finished Top 10 in homers seven times and actually lead league in triples once (I did not know that. Weird, wacky stuff!). … Led league in walks four times and walked 90 or more five times … Three times led league in times on base.
What has kept him out: Odd thing, many people who saw him play seem to think he was not as great a player as his numbers and achievements indicate.
The case: You know there are so many players who, in retrospect, don’t look as good as they did when they were playing. You know, new stats come along, certain talents gain or lose value, it’s just how progress works. Andre Dawson is a great example — he seemed to have few weaknesses as a player in the 1970s and 1980s. He hit for power, he could really run, he won Gold Gloves in the outfield, he generally hit for pretty good averages, he could really throw, he was the Hawk, the complete player.
Then, the years pass. And you look back on Andre Dawson’s career. And you realize the guy did not walk at all. I mean AT ALL. And because he did not walk, his on-base percentages were alarmingly low. And because his on-base percentages were alarmingly low, his career OPS+ is 119, which is lower than a lot of players, including Al Oliver. And then you look back at his defensive stats, and he was probably overrated defensively, at least toward the end of his Gold Glove run. You look at his MVP year, and really there’s no way he should have won that. You look at his career and you see what you see from all of these guys — terrific career, borderline Hall of Fame case.
There are plenty of others who don’t stand up to modern measurements.
Then, there are the rarer cases of players who, based on those same modern measurements, actually look better NOW than they did then. Santo is one of those types. Because he walked a lot, he has a career OPS+ of 125. Nobody knew OPS+ back then, of course. He won those five Gold Gloves, and his defensive numbers do look quite good (even though he made a lot of errors). His overall power numbers look impressive — 342 homers for a third baseman is more than George Brett or Brooks Robinson — especially because when you glance at the numbers you can easily overlook that he hit 216 of those homers at Wrigley, a great hitter’s park. In fact his career home numbers tower over his road numbers:
Home: .296/.383/.522
Road: .253/.342/.406
Point is, looking back there seems absolutely no doubt that Ron Santo is a Hall of Famer. A good defensive third baseman with power and patience is one of the rarest kinds of player in baseball history. But many people who grew up watching him play — many of the ones I talk with — just do not seem as impressed.
* * *
Major achievements: Led league in ERA twice and shutouts three times … Three-time All-Star … Won 20 or more games four times … Started all three games the Red Sox won in the famed 1975 World Series … Has 49 career shutouts, which places him 21st on the All-time list.
What has kept him out: Mostly a numbers game, he came eligible just as a history wave of 300-game winners were sweeping into the Hall of Fame. … Career numbers felt just short.
The case: Well, as mentioned here before, it’s really self-defeating to use someone in the Hall of Fame to make the case for someone outside the Hall. Still, with Tiant is really almost impossible to refer to him without comparing him to his contemporary and No. 1 Baseball Reference comp Catfish Hunter.
Tiant: 229-172, 3.30 ERA, 2,416 Ks, 1104 walks, four 20 win seasons, 114 ERA+.
Hunter: 224-166, 3.26 ERA, 2012 Ks, 954 walks, five 20 win seasons, 104 ERA+.
Catfish had his advantages … namely that he was nicknamed ”Catfish,“ he did win a Cy Young (awards again) and he retired earlier so beat the 300-game rush. Still, Tiant was clearly every bit as good a pitcher, probably better in some ways.
Tiant had nasty injury issues in the middle of his career that also hurt his career numbers. He was beat up in 1969 and lost 20 games that year. He was traded to Minnesota before the 1970 season and started off 6-0, but then badly hurt his shoulder, missed more than two months and wasn’t the same. He got released the next year (released!), was picked up by the Braves, was released again (released again!), signed with Boston and just limped through the year.
The next year, though, he reinvented himself and led the American League with a 1.91 ERA.
I’ve written here before about how brilliant Tiant was in the 1975 World Series, and a couple of people questioned the word. I think he was brilliant. He threw a five-hit shutout in Game 1 — and shutting out the Big Red Machine was pretty good stuff in 1975. In Game 4, he threw 163 pitches (Baseball Reference says 155, and I haven’t counted myself, but most places say 163) and held off the Reds for a victory in Cincinnati. Then he came back for the famed Game 6 and got hit around a bit, but still managed to go seven innings. And the reason I think it was all so brilliant is Tiant had NOTHING then. He was ”34 years old“ but even then everyone suspected he was probably closer to 45. He had long ago lost his brilliant fastball. His back was killing him. And the Red Sox won each time he pitched. I guess it depends on how you define brilliant, but I’m giving it to him.
* * *
Major achievements: MVP and batting champion in 1971 … Nine-time All-Star … Became only the third catcher to hit .310 or better with 35 or more homers (did it in 1966) … Won catcher Gold Glove in 1965 … Did OK as manager for the New York Yankees.
What has kept him out: He has not yet been considered as a manager.
The case: I’m not sure how the Veteran’s Committee (made up of Hall of Famers) will view Torre. Will they take into account his managing career? Hard to see how they can ignore it. If they do take that into account, then he’s a no-doubt, no-brainer, absolute lock Hall of Famer in my mind.
As a player, I always though Torre could have received more consideration. He had a bit of a strange career. He began as a catcher and, obviously, was considered a reasonably good one by some people — he did win a Gold Glove. He was probably not an especially good catcher, though, and starting in 1964 he played quite a few games at first base. But I’ll tell you what, the guy could hit. From 1964-1966, he pumped up a 145 OPS+ — there with McCovey and Kaline, a touch better than Clemente and Stargell.
He was good the next four years, and then he had his amazing year in ‘71. He was a full-time third baseman by then (and not a bad one according to the numbers, though the sense seems to be that he was not great out there) and he hit .363/.421/.555 with 230 hits and 137 RBIs. He was quite good for the next two years, and then went to the Mets and faded from there.
And when you look at it: A career 128 OPS+ for a guy who played catcher more than anything else, an MVP award, some other great seasons, that’s pretty close to Hall of Fame worthy, no? It’s weird, the Yankees will get him into the Hall of Fame, but in some ways the Yankees have caused some people to forget just how good a player Joe Torre once was.
* * *
Major achievements: MVP in 1962 … Led league in stolen bases six straight seasons and was first to steal 100 in a year … Five-time All Star (played in both games in ‘61 and ‘62) … Two-time Gold Glove winner at shortstop … Leadoff hitter for two World Champion Dodgers teams.
What has kept him out: Career numbers fall short; Modern statistics do not put him in great light.
The case: One of my all-time journalism heroes, Jim Murray, was very angry that Maury Wills was not in the Hall of Fame. One of Murray’s great skills was absolute certainty in his words, and whenever I read Murray on Wills I would think: ”Yeah, how the heck is this guy not in the Hall of Fame.“
Once removed from the hypnotic rhythms of Jim Murray, it became much clearer why Wills is not in the Hall: He wasn’t especially good at getting on base, he hit with astonishing lack of power (he never hit 20 doubles in a season), he had a 100 OPS+ the year he won the MVP, his career numbers do not look like Hall of Fame numbers.
But Murray was not saying that Wills was a ”great“ player. He was saying that Willis was a ”transformational“ player. He was saying that Wills, by running at will, changed the way baseball was played. He was saying that Wills, with his great speed and rangy defense, impacted games in ways that are hard to quantify. Murray believed it was a lack of imagination that kept Maury Wills out of the Hall of Fame.
I don’t agree with all of that. But I think it’s worth noting that Jim Murray saw Maury Wills play baseball and I did not. And the beauty of the Hall of Fame is that we all have our own view of what it’s all about.
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The additional weird thing about Trammell being robbed of the MVP in 1987, in addition to the fact that he played for the team that beat Bell’s team at the wire was this:
Trammell was gangbusters the last week of the season (when the Tigers overcame a 4.5 game deficit with 7 to play), and Bell was woeful (3 for 27 those last 7 games, with no XBH and 1 RBI).
The only conclusion that really makes sense is that the voters had already started mailing in their ballots before the end of the year…
As an Tigers fan I was always outraged that Trammell lost out, but it is important to remember that in 1987 the MVP voting was counted before the season ended…And the AL East champion wasn’t decided until the final day.
Trammell still should have won it though.
I have a question for you, Joe. I was browsing http://88topps.blogspot.com/, and I stumbled upon Ted Simmons card. I enlarged the back of the card and looked at his numbers, which got me curious, so i went to his baseball-reference page. I noticed that his numbers were very similar to, and in some cases better than, Gary Carter and Carlton Fisk, two hall of famers. My question is….why didnt Ted Simmons get any love for the Hall of Fame? Am I too young to remember (Only 25) and maybe he did? I never heard of him until I looked at his card and his baseball-reference page.
My go-to lousy MVP vote is always 1958 – Jackie Jensen over Mickey Mantle. Mantle hit for a higher average, OBP, and slugging average. He scored more runs (44 more), had more hits, hit more homers, and stole twice as many bases. He walked 30 more times. He played center while Jensen played right; he played in Yankee Stadium, which was a much tougher park than Jensen’s Fenway. His Yankees won the pennant by 10 games, with the Red Sox 13 games back.
But Jensen had more RBI, 122-97.
Joe, a quick nitpick – Hargrove and Hernandez walked all the time, so it’s debatable whether they really fit that category. On the other hand, I see you’ve switched your high-scoring park of choice to the Baker Bowl. I’ll be happy to take undeserved credit for that one, since I proposed it in a comment a while back. I’m sure that’s totally the reason you made the change…
Good work as always; it’s nice to read a non-argumentative Hall of Fame piece.
Allen, Hodges, Santo, Tiant, Torre.
Bell’s offensive numbers in ‘87 also looked better than usual because offense was up across the board that year. I agree that people must have sent in their ballots when Toronto was 4 games ahead with about 7 or 8 to play.
I agree with Johnny.
I’d vote for Allen, Hodges, Santo, Tiant, Torre.
I’d also vote for Kaat.
And Trammel, Rice, Blyleven.
Torre was probably playing other positions besides catcher to keep his bat in the lineup while simultaneously resting his legs.
Of that list only Santo is the only guy you look at and say “that guys a Hall of Famer”. You can make an argument to keep any of the other players out and in my mind that means thy aren’t worthy of Cooperstown. Torre will get in at some point, but as amanager and not a player.
I forgot – Cocoa Kispies blow Cocoa Pebbles out of the water, or milk.
Veteran’s committee or not at all? Would a player rather be considered as an all-time snub, ie Santo and Trammel, or get elected by the VC despite the fact that the BBWAA and most fans don’t think he is deserving? Maybe that is a two-part question that should be split up.
Maybe Joe can help me the with speaker of the quote my query reminds me of: “I would rather folks ask me why I was never president, than why I was.”
Oh yeah, Cocoa Pebbles in a walk.
I voted for Allen, Santo, and Torre. I think the screening committee did not do a bad job, in that there is at least something interesting you can say about most of the guys they picked. I think the biggest omission was Bobby Grich, who was better than anyone on the list.
Thanks Joe! Great idea to keep it positive. You’re absolutely right, all of these guys are worth celebrating (well, at least for what they did on a baseball field; there are several I wouldn’t want to go bowling with).
Good call on Simmons from Ernie – and Bobby Grich was probably better than any of these guys. But the VC did a good job of picking the candidates who are most talked about.
Boggs was also clearly better than Bell in ‘87. I forgot what a monster year he had that year. I’m no Boston fan, but I’m amazed how good he was from ‘85 to ‘88 and that he got very little MVP support…
It doesn’t seem like the numbers support anyone but Santo getting in. As Joe said, Torre should be in if you take into account his body of work as a player/manager. To a lesser extent, you could probably say the same about Hodges.
I voted only for Hodges, for exactly the same reasons you cited. Then I read your arguments. If I could vote again, I’d add Torre (how could I have missed him), Santo, Tiant. I saw Santo play and never considered him that great a player, but back then walks and OBP ranks were all but impossible to find. So even though he got a lot of benefit hitting in Wrigley, you have convinced me.
I also saw Wills play. A lot. There probably were no more than a dozen games where the Dodgers won 1-0 and the only run came because Wills did something great with his speed, but it seemed like there were a lot more, probably because good things stick in memory (Jack Morris’s WS shutout wipes out the recollection of all those bad postseason outings). Certainly the Dodgers in 1965 have to be about the worst hitting team ever to win the World Series, and it’s not as though 1963 was a whole lot better (but Tommy Davis deserves some credit), and there may never have been a player better at manufacturing runs from nothing. I know, Brock and Rickey and Raines were better leadoff hitters, but none played strong defense at shortstop, and all could hit a ton better; they were manufacturing runs out of talent. So I know exactly what Murray means. Wills was iconic; he changed the game; he probably would have come up years sooner if not for a beloved aging white man ahead of him, and then a lot of his counting stats would, would…. And this is where I decide I can’t vote for Wills. His defense was fine but not astonishing; even late in their careers when they came to LA I’d pick Griffin and Belanger as better fielders, long past their prime. His speed was as good as it got, but was hindered by a complete inability to hit. In order to vote in Wills I’d first want to see Concepcion, Trammell, Grich, Larkin, Vizquel, maybe even Garry Templeton, Tony Fernandez, Alfredo Griffin and Marc Belanger. And when you start comparing Wills’s true value to those last four, well, it’s clear that he doesn’t really belong in the HOF. Yes, he changed the game. But Marvin Miller changed it more, and he’s not getting in either.
Interesting point about Alan T. Of course, we have to remember that the same people that vote for MVP also vote for the HOF. I guess a lot of them just are biased against Alan T. I do not know why. If the Royals would have had Alan T. to go with George and Frank, even dumb old Willie Mays A. would not have been able to screw things up.
There’s no such thing as an “ex-Marine.” Once a Marine, always a Marine.
I think Trammell actually gets hosed by always being mentioned with Whitaker. It’s as if commentators are saying he’s not worthy enough on his own to mention. His numbers don’t pop out at you either, although it’s pretty obvious he should have gotten more consideration.
Ted Simmons absolutely got hosed by the hall voters. Look at this:
BA OBA SLG OPS+
A. .267/.345/.476 126
B. .262/.338/.439 115
C. .269/.343/.457 117
D. .285/.352/.437 117
A, B, and C are Bench, Carter, and Fisk, Hall-of-Famers all. D is Simmons. At the time Simmons was dropped from the ballot for getting less than 5% of the vote, he had more hits than any catcher in history (IRod has since passed him). And his defense wasn’t that bad. Maybe he’d have been better regarded if he hadn’t played at the same time as Bench, Carter, and Fisk, or if he’d made it to the post-season more.
Leo Durocher really slammed Santo for never driving in a run when it counted. Don’t know if that carried any weight with the voters.
Yeah, thats what I was saying. I was shocked that I had never heard of him before after looking at his numbers. The only thing I can think of is he didnt have as many homeruns, and he might have been one of those guys that didnt “feel” like a hall of famer to the voters.
Gil Hodges was not the 2nd player to hit 4 home runs in a game, not even close, not even 2nd in the NL. He was the 6th overall, 4th in the NL. His predecessors:
1894 — Bobby Lowe (NL)
1896 — Ed Delahanty (NL)
1932 — Gehrig (AL)
1936 — Chuck Klein (NL)
1948 — Pat Seeey (AL)
I can only imagine the difficulty of doing this before 1900. We should know more about Lowe’s and Delahanty’s feats.
Umm…you may not be able to remember the LAST time, but you only need to look two years earlier to see an even more glaring example of inferior player from non-playoff team winning an MVP over a clearly superior player on a playoff team. Mattingly over Brett in 1985 is a joke. Put Mattingly in any city other than LA, Boston or New York and he wouldn’t have been in the top five in voting that year. Although, I might be missing some sort of intended irony in your use of all caps…perhaps you were referencing this?
George Bell – 47 HR – 134 RBI
Allan Trammell – 28 HR – 105 RBI
In 1987, those would be the numbers that mattered. All talk of OPS, defensive importance, OBP would have been irrelevant. In fact you could argue that would be the same today for many voters.
Also Bell had finished in the top ten in MVP voting the previous two years.
If you want to talk ridiculous, Eckersly’s MVP in 92 is an all time disgrace. MVP and CY for 80 innings pitched.
So Joe, are you suggesting that Luis Tiant played into his early 50s (he was “41″ when he hung it up). Does that make him the Julio Franco of his era?
I voted for Tony Oliva and Dick Allen. Oliva, because I heard so much about him in my 20+ years living in Minnesota, and the way his career was cut short by bad legs. And Allen….is a sentimental choice. I grew up in the same small town in Pa. that he did. My dad knew him pretty well. (I have his autograph….somewhere.) My uncle employed him as a kid. I think he was a pain because his world turned upside down when he was drafted and sent to the minors…. in the South. The town we grew up in kind of gave a minor acknowledgment that segregation existed, but there wasn’t any. All the kids, whatever color, played with one another, went to school together, etc. I could see how one’s world view might be rocked by having that kind of experience.
Re: Ted Simmons
Can’t say I agree with the idea that Simmons was ‘hosed’ by the BBWAA — sure, he’s got good hitting numbers, but:
a) I don’t think the hitting numbers are as impressive as people think, and
b) it’s not the hitting that didn’t get him in, it’s the other things that kept him out
Perry compares Simmons’s numbers to three Hall of Famers, but here’s another comparison:
A – .285/.352/.437 117
B – .297/.365/.452 128
C – .241/.388/.429 136
D – .247/.354/.409 113
A, if you can do a comparison with Perry’s numbers, is obviously Simmons. B is Joe Torre, who also wasn’t elected by the BBWAA, but will probably be a shoo-in for the Vet’s Committee given his success as Yankee manager. C is Gene Tenace, who is probably nobody’s idea of a great-hitting catcher, but who averaged 21 HR and over 100 walks per year playing in Oakland in the 1970s – his baseballreference ‘neutralized’ numbers have him hitting .273/.429/.484 (yes, that’s an OPS of over 900 for someone not named Mike Piazza), and his 1975 season in particular would have drawn a lot more MVP consideration (with his actual numbers, he finished 18th in the MVP vote in 1975).
D is Darrell Porter, which leads into my next point.
Probably the biggest reason that Simmons didn’t draw much Hall interest has nothing to do with him being a good hitter — it has to do with voters finding his limitations too hard to overlook. Perry notes that Simmons’s defense ‘wasn’t that bad’, but that’s a modern view, supported by modern defensive metrics. In his own era, Simmons was seen as a poor defensive catcher — in 1980, when Whitey Herzog took over in St. Louis, he immediately drew criticism for convincing the Cardinals to ship Simmons to Milwaukee so that he could play Darrell Porter as his catcher instead. The Brewers, with Simmons joining a bunch of other good hitters, were contenders in 1981 and 1982, even going to the World Series in the latter year, where they were beaten by Herzog’s Cardinals with Porter as the catcher. The Brewers then fell off the planet while the Cards remained competitive with good-to-great field, decent-to-poor hit catchers (Tom Nieto, Tony Pena).
Also, when it comes to the Hall, defense matters as a catcher. Here’s the list of current Hall of Fame catchers:
Johnny Bench
Yogi Berra
Roger Bresnahan
Roy Campanella
Gary Carter
Mickey Cochrane
Bill Dickey
Buck Ewing
Rick Farrell
Carlton Fisk
Josh Gibson
Gabby Hartnett
Ernie Lombardi
Biz Mackie
Louis Santop
Ray Schalk
Ignoring the Negro Leaguers, because as Bill James once wrote, I can’t discuss them without revealing my ignorance of them, most of these guys are known as excellent defensive players, and even the ones who are probably weakest on defense (Lombardi and Berra, mainly) were known for having strong throwing arms, which Simmons was not known for.
In other words, the BBWAA didn’t choose to elect a catcher who would likely have been the first player who wasn’t very good at being a catcher, and whose defensive liabilities seemed to be detrimental to his teams’ success on the field. I can’t say I disagree with that logic.
I’d have Kaat third on my 1966 AL Cy Young ballot, after Earl Wilson (if you count his hitting) and Gary Peters. And Versalles was more valuable to the ‘65 Twins than Oliva–it was damn tough to get offense at shortstop in those days, and he was a brilliant fielder and baserunner as well.
Anybody who seriously thinks Maury Wills belongs in the HoF should read this:
http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2008/08/bridge-too-far.html
Seriously, a player whose 162G averages are this:
15 2B
6 3B
2 HR
belongs in the HoF?
How about the fact that his career SLG is .331? OPS+ of 88? Or that despite the two GGs, he was actually a barely average SS, according to BP’s FRAA (+38 FRAA in a 14-year career, including -9 and -7 in his GG seasons)? How about the fact that for the last 7 years of his career, he stole 203 bases and was caught 98 times, barely a wash?
And enough with the “he changed BB with his SBs” nonsense. His SB numbers were impressive, but they didn’t change the overall strategy of the times. That makes about as much sense as saying Roger Maris brought back the HR. Both of the set records and got a lot of press for doing so, especially since the previous record holders were Ty Cobb and Babe Ruth. But neither of them had any lasting effect on overall game play.
This is easier to see in a picture. Here’s a graph of SB activity between 1960 and 1980:
http://alexreisner.com/baseball/stats/stat?s=SB&min=1960&max=1980
As you can see, it’s basically flat from 1960 to 1970, so where was this big Maury Wills effect? In fact, to the extent that there was an increase in SB from the lows of the early 50s, it could more accurately be attributed to Luis Aparicio (check out his SB numbers, starting in 1956; plus he had more SBs than Wills every year between 1960 and 1965, except for 1962).
Not to mention the fact that SBs are the most grossly overrated statistic in baseball. There is almost no correlation between SBs and wins; in fact, on of the first Bill James essays I read, about 30 years ago, was on this topic.
And, if we can aggregate various roles for these guys (e.g., Hodges, Torre), then Wills deserves serious points off for being one of the worst managers in history: career record of 26-56, .318).
Now, he certainly wouldn’t be the worst player in the HoF, probably not even the worst SS (Rabbit Maranville, anyone?), but good grief — he is CLEARLY not someone who belongs in the HoF.
The poll seems to highlight something that Joe, and others, have mentioned before: it’s frickin’ hard to get 75% of the vote for anything.
Ron Santo and Blyleven are the 2 guys that have been passed over that it seems like every sabermetrically inclined fan agrees should be in (I’m sure there are exceptions, but I prefer gross generalizations). And yet even in a poll for a blog that is very sabermetric-friendly, Santo is falling short of 75%.
I also agree that I’d like to have seen Grich on the list. I’m too young to have seen him play, but he’s on the list of players I imagine myself really liking had I been around in their prime.
I was going to comment on Ted Simmons, but then I read David Wintheiser’s post, which pretty much nailed it. My only additions would be that Simmons played over 20% of his games at positions other than C, in particular just shy of 20% at 1b & DH. Also, I think it’s clear that the person ot overcome the bias gainst electing a C who wasn’t strong defensively will be Piazza…
Is anyone else here stunned that, in this type of environment, Santo, at least as of now, is not polling even 70%?
There’s a touch of BS in the “Hodges missed time because of WWII” argument, because he was still only 21 years old when the war ended and was discharged in time for the 1946 season. He didn’t get called up that year because he didn’t have a position; they were trying to make him a catcher and he needed time in the minors to learn it. He got a brief cup of coffee in 1947 as he was still trying to be a backstop, and didn’t get regular time until he finally converted to first base in 1948. None of that had much to do with the war, unless you want to argue that he would have made the conversion faster if not for his time in the Marines. That’s a fair point, but I sincerely doubt that delay cost him terribly much big league time, unless you’re one who feels it fair to expect a 22-year old rookie to be the everyday first baseman for a 96-win team.
Replying to David Wintheiser,
While I feel I can make a case for Simmons as a HOFer, the fact that he’s not in is not necessarily any kind of a grievous oversight.
The fact that he received less than FOUR PERCENT of the vote in his first year of eligibility (and was therefore dropped from the ballot) was an insult to a great player who had a great career.
Simmons was hurt by a long twilight—he hung on for a half-dozen seasons as a part-time player/pinch-hitter—and the fact that he was overshadowed by playing at the same time as three of the 12 MLB catchers on your HOF list (including the man considered at the time as the greatest catcher ever, Johnny Bench).
Like his NL contemporaries Bench and Carter (both HOFers) Simmons was an iron man behind the plate, starting at least 118 games behind the plate 10 times in 11 years (excluding the ‘81 strike season); Gene Tenace started more than 89 games behind the plate once in his career. Bench started 115 games 11 times in 12 years, and Gary Carter made 116 starts in 11 straight seasons.
Carter’s durability was unparalleled at the time, as he started 130+ games behind the plate 8 straight seasons—and though he finished his career with slightly lower OPS than Simmons, he is a Hall of Famer, and deservedly so. But Carter also received more than 40% of the vote his first year of eligibility… playing in New York for a World Series-winning team I’m sure helped him more than had he toiled for a series of good but not great teams in the Midwest during his prime, as did Simmons.
By the time Carter arrived in New York, there were no Johnny Benches catching in the NL any more: his All Star peers were guys like Tony Pena, Terry Kennedy, and Jody Davis.
When Ted Simmons retired he ranked among the top 5 among catchers in a number of offensive categories.
Keeping in mind the concept of offensive peak, Simmons was the everyday starting catcher for the Cardinals for 10 years, and in those 10 years (1971-1980) he hit .301/.367/.466. Those are numbers that are as rare as hen’s teeth over the history of MLB for a full-time catcher, especially considering rhe offensive climate in which they were compiled.
Carter, admittedly far superior defensively, during his best 9-year stretch hit .276/.349/.478. And again, he is a Hall of Famer.
Compare Simmons’ longevity and his offensive peak to the MLB catchers on that list, and only a few hold an edge over Simmons in both.
Your point, though, still holds: Simmons was then and, I’m sure, now, regarded as a below-average defensive catcher, and perhaps that’s not acceptable for admittance into the HOF.
But I imagine there must be at least a couple dozen similarly regarded defensive players who are in the Hall, but perhaps the perception of the importance of defense at their positions isn’t as great as for the catcher.
Still, there aren’t many positions where arguably one of the greatest offensive careers ended up with less than four percent of the HOF vote…
Replying to Jeffsol, who points out that Simmons played over 20% of his career games at positions other than catcher:
Johnny Bench appeared in 19.7 of his career games as something other than catcher, and appeared in (and started) fewer games at catcher than Ted Simmons.
By age 22 Bench was seeing significant playing time every year at the infield/outfield corners. The vast majority of Simmons’ non-catching appearances came during his “long twilight,” when he was a part-time player/pinch-hitter—he made 233 appeances as a pinch-hitter in his career (more than 100 more than Bench).
Replying to Salvo:
You do make good points, and I’ll definitely agree that Simmons’s image was probably lowered given that he was playing next to other Hall-worthy catchers — compared to Bench, any catcher is probably not going to measure up. And it’s also true that there are Hall luminaries who weren’t great defensive players, though the ratio also seems to climb the farther down the defensive spectrum you go. (There are some truly great defensive right fielders and first basemen in the Hall, but also numerous guys who were indifferent with the glove but mighty with the bat.)
I just want to point out one thing with respect to the ‘dropped on the first ballot’ point you make — Simmons’s #2 comp on baseballreference.com is Lou Whitaker.
It’s an accident of history that this is true — I think most observers could easily show that Simmons was a better hitter than Whitaker based on the eras both played in (Simmons missed the truly offense-crushing era of the 60s, but the 70s before Whitaker started playing were clearly not as offense-friendly as the 90s after Simmons retired), and the parks both played in (Simmons played nearly 800 games with over 3000 PAs in Busch Stadium, which while it didn’t exactly kill him wasn’t well-suited to his skills — County Stadium in Milwaukee was far better for him — while Whitaker had over half his career games and nearly half his career PAs in Tiger Stadium, a better though still not ideal fit).
But Whitaker, like Simmons, was also dropped from the Hall ballot for indifference in his first appearance in 2001.
It probably didn’t help Simmons that Joe Torre was also on the ballot in 1994, though Torre wasn’t drawing all that well either. I think both men were the ‘odd men out’ after voters decided that they simply had to have certain guys on their ballot — in 1994 it was Steve Carlton, while in 2001 it was both Dave Winfield and Kirby Puckett. Just my opinion, though, and probably not provable.
Interesting coincidence, at least.
No mention of Carl Mays? Isn’t he a finalist? For what it’s worth, I voted for Santo, Allen, Hodges, Kaat, Tiant, and Oliva. I don’t know why I don’t support Torre. Maybe I feel like his managing success was due in LARGE part to his star studded rosters.
One of the interesting things about Boggs is that he was a great OPS guy back when no one was talking about OPS. As a Sox fan, I used to hate him for walking so much!
Man, the readers on the blog are just as entertaining to read as the blog itself. I think its awesome that a little comment I made formed some interesting arguments for a player I didnt know about until yesterday. David, Salvo, I think both of you make excellent arguments for, and against, Ted Simmons.
Although I’ve always been a big Santo supporter, there does seem to be a bit of a problem with judging third basemen. It’s a bit of a hybrid position, and many fine players have spent part of their careers there, yet are associated more with other positions. You can divide them into three categories.
1. Sluggers who start their careers at 3B, but are moved to easier positions, like Pujols, Cabrera, Sheffield (more or less), Bonilla, Darrell Evans, Allen, Perez, and Killebrew.
2. Stars who move from tougher positions to 3B after they lose a step in the field, like A-Rod (really due to Jeter, but still…), Garciaparra, Ripken, Bench, Torre, Vaughan, Frisch, and Sewell.
3. Molitor and Rose, who played a little bit at a lot of spots.
I’m sure I’m missing several players, but I’m just wondering if we’re limiting the scope of the discussion by only comparing Santo to the small list of players who spent all or most of their careers at third base. Granted, several of the guys on my lists didn’t do much offensively in their years at 3B, but even if you just add in the “legit” ones like A-Rod and Killebrew, it might put Santo’s candidacy into better perspective.
Just a thought….I’d still vote for Santo, along with Tiant and Torre (assuming we can count his managerial career).
Regarding Trammell vs. Bell, how about Ryan Howard over Albert Pujols two years ago?
Glen, Mattingly over Brett was a howler of a choice. But it doesn’t qualify under Joe’s criteria; the Royals didn’t keep the Yankees out of the playoffs, since they were in different divisions.
Hugh, same thing. The Phillies actually had a better record than the Cardinals that year, so it would have been hard for the criteria to apply.
I STILL can’t really grasp how good Torre was as a player. I’m 26, so I’m far removed from having seen him play. But man, he was good. It’s too bad I’ll always only think of him as the Yankees manager (which isn’t such a bad thing I guess, since he had just a little success in that role).
Bobby A:
Carl Mays is one of the ten finalists among the pre-1943 (that is, guys whose careers started prior to 1943) players who will be voted upon, along with Bill Dahlen, Wes Ferrell, and 7 others.
Actually, I would suggest that Joe write a post/hold a poll about that group of ten, but even though this blog attracts alot of astute, knowledgable baseball fans, I’m not sure how many of them know a lot about Bill Dahlen et al.
My votes go to Santo, Allen (although that was the toughest call – I can see those who didn’t think he played long enough keeping him out), Torre (love the story about him and Pat Jordan in False Spring), and Tiant. There is no possible justification for Tiant being out while Catfish Hunter is in; his numbers are almost identical to Jim Bunning’s too, and last I checked he was in the Hall.
I start — not finish, but start — with career Win Shares. If a catcher is over 300, I presume him worthy and wait to hear why he should be excluded. If he’s under 300, I presume him not qualified by career accomplishment and wait to hear why he should be voted in anyway. Maybe he had a great peak, had career cut short by injury, illness, plane crash. . . 300 is a presumption ONLY.
The relevant numbers: Berra 375, Fisk 368, Bench 356, Hartnett 325, I-Rod 325, Piazza 322, Simmons 315, Torre 315, Dickey 314, Cochrane 275, Freehan 267, etc. Of these, Simmons did the most DH’ing, and the presumption for a full-career DH ought to be 400, so. . . .
Torre caught fewer than half the games he played in, and the presumption for 3rd base should be about 350, first base about 370. Of course Torre is one of those — like Hodges, maybe — who should be in as a hybrid, but the Hall seems not to have figured out how to have hybrid voting. It’s been pointed out that Hodges was often batted 7th in the Dodgers lineup (and his win shares total is 263 [first base presumption, 370; Keith Hernandez, 311]).
Surely, special consideration should be given to anyone whose career was shortened by discrimination or war or illness. Injury is tougher to credit and deserves its own essay (Herb Score, Tony Conigliaro, both careers were too short before the injury, I guess). But early-onset diabetes — discovery of which dates to his teen years, I believe — surely helped to end Ron Santo’s playing career at 34, five years before Brooks, six years before Brett or Ripken, eight years before Nettles. At age 34, Santo had more win shares than any of these (324). At 15-20 (at least) a season, he’d have collected 400 (presumption for 3rd base, 350) with an equally-long career.
I see such an illness as more unavoidable than Klu’s or Mattingly’s back trouble, if we have to make distinctions (and we do). And Kluszewski’s 203 win shares or Mattingly’s 263 (at a position for which the presumption should be 370) puts each of them closer to the situation of Score and Conigliaro. Santo is my top choice on this ballot. (And his post-playing career makes him a hybrid, too.)
I am of an age where the 1987 season was formative for me, and I am a lifelong Tigers fan. Tram got absolutely robbed in the MVP voting that year. If MVP means most valuable player to a team’s success, Tram led the Tigers to win the AL East. George “Taco” Bell was truly a great slugger, but not much more. The Tigers defeated the Jays on the last day of the season to win it all. As the post makes clear, Tram hit the cover off the ball the last week when it really mattered . . .
And a generation of young kids in Michigan and elsewhere grew up idolizing Trammell. He was our hero–a hard-working guy who played a great shortstop and hit. In retrospect–you never understand this when you’re 13–he was what a ballplayer should be. (Wishing him luck this year with the Cubs!)
I agree with the comment that Tram has always been hamstrung by his association with “Sweet” Lou Whitaker. Although I believe that Lou should be in the HOF, too. Chiefly because he and Tram had such a long and fruitful career together.
IOW, I think the argument for Whitaker should be aided by Tram’s indisputable case. If life were fair, the HOF would recognize impact and durability, not just numbers.
I’ll add that I am old enough to remember Torre as a player, and also as manager of the Mets (yes?). Torre is pretty much Mr. Baseball, All-Time, and the fact that he doesn’t get credit for that makes me sad. And I hate the Yankees with every fiber of my being. Forever. But not Torre.
I add that Torre is going to lead a troubled Dodgers squad to the playoffs this year. Yes, it’s a weak division, and they added MannyBManny, and the DBacks have collapsed, but Torre’s luck seems to be overrated. One guy shouldn’t get lucky THAT many times, right? He’s managed how many years in a row with making the playoffs?
Let me add that five of the comparable players at Baseball Reference for Torre were HOfers, and one more was Ivan Rodriguez, a solid lock for the HOF. Torre should get in on his playing career . . . .
Tram had a few more career hits than Torre, and one of his comparable players is Jeter. Now Jeter will overtake Tram in hits sometime in 2010, if he stays healthy. But if Jeter went down in 2009 with a career ender, he’s in, no?
Just for the record, Alan Trammell 2365 hits, Derek Jeter (today) 2534. Career win shares (325 presumption for a shortstop) Trammell 318, Jeter (as of 9/7) also 318 — how coincidental is that? It’s not hard to make a case that more than compensates for Trammell’s “missing” 7 win shares, and there are lots of shortstops in the Hall with fewer than 325 for their careers. Barry Larkin (346) should be in the conversation, though.
Bill James credited Whitaker with 351 win shares (my presumption for 2nd base is 350). Some contended that Lou W never played up to his full potential, but 351 seems more tangible than a perception, with Sandberg at 346, Robbie Alomar at 345 (I think), Grich 329. Of course Sandberg sat out a season or two, Alomar mysteriously dropped off a cliff, and Grich is another bad back case. Whitaker played more years than any of them.
Oh beans, in my earlier post about catcher career win shares, I left out Gary Carter 337.
I voted Santo, Hodges, Torre, Allen, and Tiant.
I am one who thinks more is better, and you could do a LOT worse than the Five I chose… Heck, there are worse in the Hall already.
If I had to be a little more strict, I could easily make it just Santo, and maybe Torre…
RE: Players who look better in hindsight
1st name that popped into my head – Dwight Evans. Walked a bunch before it was appreciated – 27th all-time in walks. Pull his top comps and it’s a who’s who of fringe HOF candidates and electees: Dave Parker, Tony perez, Darrell Evans, Joe Carter, Harold Baines, Luis Gonzalez (and cross-reference those guys and you find Dale Murphy, Andre Dawson, Jim Rice and so on)
Another key member of the Al Oliver ’70’s All-stars: The Cobra:
http://www.baseball-reference.com/p/parkeda01.shtml
And his personality “fits in” with Garver & Oliver too.
why all the love for ron santo? take him out of wrigley, and he’s an average third baseman. i can’t get past his .257/.342/.406 on the road. sorry, but that is far from hall of fame material.
Just wanted to add that all this talk about Trammell/Bell reminds me that 1987 was probably the last great “pennant” race. I realize that 1993 (Giants – Braves) was also pretty exciting, but it didn’t feature a team making up a 4.5 game deficit with 8 to play, nor the two top teams facing off in the last series of the year.
One of the things the wildcard has ruined…
Posting without reading all the other comments so maybe someone has already brought this up re: Simmons….
I think playing in old Busch hurt his power numbers. Back in the day, it was second only to the Astrodome in killing homeruns.
I didn’t vote for anyone. The veterans committee has already done enough damage to the Hall of Very Good.
I seem to remember that Simmons was implicated in rather heavy cocaine use as a player in the early ’80s ala Tim Raines, the Berra kid….Could this be something that turned off many voters who voted back then?
I really would hate to think that Earl Lawson is the reason Vada has not only been excluded, but virtually ignored, in Hall of Fame voting.
I remember long ago listening to Randy Galloway, who covered the Rangers for years, about Al Oliver’s first season in Arlington. He said Oliver might have hit .400 that year in another park, but the prairie wind at Arlington Stadium kept shot after shot in the ballpark.
Not that I would vote for Oliver, but he did spend some prime years in a ballpark that wasn’t a bandbox like the current Arlington stadium.
Santo Home and Away
2 observations
1. Given the introduction of new ballparks (and the elimination of old ballparks like Forbes Field) in the majors since Santo played, Wrigley is probably a much less favorable ballpark for hitters, in relative terms, than it was in the 60s. I don’t think there is any doubt of that. Before you attribute it all to Wrigley, try to keep this in mind.
2. This is nothing more than a guess on my part, but I have wondered whether the differential between Santo’s home numbers and his away numbers is in some ways attributable to his illness. I base this on the following: (A) diabetics have some difficulty traveling, in that travel and time changes may mean eating and taking medication at irregular intervals, and during the time that Santo played there had not been the advances in technology that there currently are in managing this chronic condition; (B) the differential between Santo’s home numbers and road numbers was not extreme in the earlier years of his career (and was indeed not bad during his prime years of 1964 through 1967) but worsened significantly as he got older, perhaps suggesting that the disease became more difficult to manage for him as he aged (his home and away numbers in 1964 were H .318/.405/.601., A .307/.392/.531); and (C) other Cubs that played during the same time did not have as extreme a differential between their home numbers and their away numbers (see Billy Williams, for example). What this suggests to me is that Santo may not have benefited so much from playing at Wrigley as he did from playing at home, where he could eat regular meals and be on a regular schedule to manage his disease; that he might have had a similar differential had he been an Oriole, Cardinal, Dodger or Yankee.
I tend to be somewhat cold-hearted when it comes to medical conditions when assessing Hall of Famers. Too many players have injury or health issues, and it is too easy to get in “slippery slope†arguments about speculating what this person or that person would have done had they not been injured, etc. There is no way to determine whether my speculation about Santo is true short of asking him, but if it were true, I would feel differently about the disease aspect in Santo’s case. He showed what he could do when healthy (both at home and, in the early stages of his career, on the road).
Santo aged rapidly. He had less range as a fielder as he got older, and quit relatively early (although after a full career). I think Bill James (who has written often on Santo’s merits) suspects diabetes as a factor in why Santo aged the way he did, as I do. See http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/2008/04/01/bill-james-answers-all-your-baseball-questions/
I would also point out that Santo’s career road OPS+ exceeds the combined career OPS+ of Brooks Robinson, a first ballot Hall of Famer. Santo’s career home OPS+ is in Mike Schmidt territory.
Santo’s sOPS+ (OPS+ of split relative to the major league OPS by split) by year
1960: H 92, A 111
1961: H 152, A 109
1962: H 99, A 67
1963: H 156, A 122
1964: H 184, A 171
1965: H 163. A 155
1966: H 190, A 160
1967: H 186, A 157
1968: H 196, A 89
1969: H 179, A 122
1970: H 138, A 134
1971: H 144, A 109
1972: H 196, A 131
1973: H 142, A 101
1974: H 95, A 52
Santo’s OPS by year and by split
1960: H .702, A .736 (+34)
1961: H .943, A .745 (-198)
1962: H .731, A .587 (-144)
1963: H .903, A .739 (-164)
1964: H 1.006, A .922 (-84)
1965: H .908. A .846 (-62)
1966: H 1.019, A .878 (-141)
1967: H .977, A .836 (-141)
1968: H .968, A .591 (-377)
1969: H .991, A .744 (-247)
1970: H .869, A .820 (-49)
1971: H .849, A .701 (-148)
1972: H 1.015, A .747 (-268)
1973: H .871, A .697 (-174)
1974: H .689, A .513 (-176)
The differential was much worse over time, from 1968 (when he fell off the table on the road) onward.