FIRE JOE MORGAN

This has been a weird JoeChat Year. I don't get these things anymore. I don't know who's speaking, who's typing, who's JoeBaiting, who's who. There isn't even the usual BuzzMaster intro this time, nor any opening salvo from The Great One. We just jump right in.

sean jacksonville,fl: you agree that the reds should trade grifey?

Joe Morgan: That is a tough question for me because I was a Red when he was a little kid in the clubhouse and his dream was ro play for the Reds. I think that dream has not lived up to expectations, so I think they maybe should trade him to a contander so he has chance to play for a World Series. But is has to be mutual; Griffey has to want it and the Reds have to want it.

The Reds are 12 games behind Chicago and have been outscored by 58 runs. Ken Grifey [sic] is old and expensive. Seems like maybe trading him would benefit the team going forward. But: Joe was on the Reds when Griffey was a kid and Griffey's dream was ro [sic] play for the Reds someday. So...there's that.

And as for your last sentence, this is not analysis. Griffey has a no-trade clause. So, yes, by CBA rule, Griffey has to want it, and by virtue of the way businesses work, the Reds have to want it. Well done.

sean (levittown, PA): I think the Phillies should get another starting pitcher like C.C. Sabathia. What do you think?

This is what is known in the on-line chat world as: "a softball."

Joe Morgan: Well I think every team needs another starting pitcher, it's not like the Phillies are the only ones. But they do need anothe rpitchers. Starting piutching is still the No. 1 commoodity in the game and there is still a shortage of top-notch starting pitching in MLB.

Look at these [sic]s and tell me I'm not getting put on. "But they do need anothe rpitchers?!" Are you kidding me? Starting "piutching?" "Commoodity?" I'm being set up.

On a side note, I (still) simply can't believe how little analysis Joe gives in these things. The guy asks if the Phillies should try to trade for C.C. Sabathia. Joe responds that everyone needs pitching, a dusty old aphorism akin to saying "baseball is a game that requires human players," and offers exactly zero in terms of (a) whom they might trade for instead or (b) whom they might offer for him or (c) where else CC might go or (d) any individual subject x where x = (any subject possible to analyze in the known universe)(the sum of all of the billions of observations made about the game of baseball since it was invented by Abner Doubleday as he and Francis Scott Key launched a sneak attack against their own men at the battle of Fort Sumter) [sic].

Joe Chicago: If the white sox do make a trade what and who should they go for?

Joe Morgan: They need more consistent hitting.

ChiSox: 393 runs, 7th in all MLB.

Dye is swinging the bat well, as is Crede, but everyone else has been streaky. Thome jhas not been concistent and neither was Konerko before he got hurt. That is what Ozzie went off about, the incosistent offense. They need offense.

Red alert people. Red. Effing. Alert.

"concistent" and "incosistent" back to back.

Something is happening. And it's not that trees and plants are releasing a neurotoxin into the air.

There are three possibilities here, as I see it.

1. This is just business as usual at JoeChat headquarters.

2. The people who operate the JoeChat 9000 Lifelike SimulTron Turing Machine are having some fun with us here at FJM, since they know how much we like the repetition and misspellings of "consistent."

3. Bill Fremp is being held captive at JoeChat headquarters and is trying to signal that he needs help.

We will monitor the situation closely.

Matt (Oconomowoc): Ben Sheets has been consistently great this year. Do you think the Brewers will be able to lock him up long term?

Joe Morgan: It depends on what they want to spend, and if they are worried about the inuuries. But last night he looked great. Because of injuries, he has not been able to come close to 20 wins, and he has had physical problems, so it comes down to how confident they are about hi health. But having said that, they need to keep him, because when healthy he is a great pitcher.

If this is actually just Joe, isn't it amazing that he never catches on when 5-10 people bait him every week by using "consistent" in their questions?

Speaking of which...we got several emails from readers suggesting that all the JoeBaiting may be having a deleterious effect on the quality of the actual chats. I hate to tell anyone how to live his or her life, but it is possible, I think, that we should all cool it on the baiting, the better to observe Joe in his natural habitat, Meerkat Manor-style. I leave it to you to decide.

Adam (Toledo): With the Tigers playing as well as they are and starting to get their pitching turned around do you think they can catch and pass the Twins and put pressure on the White Sox before the All-Star Break?

Joe Morgan: Well I am not sure how quickly they can do it becaused they dug a deep hole. But I think they can win the division, because they can win 8-10 ball games in a row with that pitching a hitting. The Twins and Sox have kind of waited for them, and that has given them the chance to stay in the race depsite their horrible start. But they need to be more consistent...

Come on. This is insane.

they have been shut out more than any other team in the majors, and yet they can also score 19 runs in a game. So they need consistency.

I now am 90% sure someone is toying with me.

Jacob (Brooklyn): The AL is beating up on the NL in interleague again. Why do you think the gap between the two leagues continues to be so significant?

Joe Morgan: Well for a while there the AL brought in all the young stars, and now the NL is starting to do it. But now those young AL players are maturing and have become great players. Yes the AL is the better league, but these things happen in cycles, and it may change in 5 years. But I do think on a daily basis the pitching and hitting is consistenyl better in the AL.

"Consistenyl" should be the name of a prescription drug you can take to make yourself more consistent.

Eric (NYC): What's wrong with David Wright? Is Willie's absence hurting his consistency?

For the record, if 100 people in a row asked me questions using the same word, I would suspect something were amiss.

Joe Morgan: Well Willie has not been gone that long. I know Wright was a big fan of his and he felt that Willie heleped him become a big leaguer, but David is a strong individual and has got over Willie's absence. There is no consistency in the lineup and that changes his perspective and puts pressure on him. Of the top 4 hitters, he is the only consistent one, and I think that has put extra pressure on him.

If I answered each of those 100 questions using the same word that the questioners had used -- often using it twice in the same answer -- I would resign to spend more time with my family.

Kevin (Boston): Schilling a hall of famer, Joe?

Joe Morgan: I do not like talking about it since I am invovled with the Hall of Fame,

I just tried to play "invovled" in Scrabulous and it claimed it isn't a word. But that program is super buggy. Also, if Joe is true to form, he will follow up his "I can't discuss the HOF" with a lengthy discussion of the HOF.

but I will say that there are pitchers with more wins than him and they are not in. But the game is different now, and people look at pitchers differenly It's a tough call, but 216 wins usually is not enough, and it is a shame he is injured because he would have gotten more wins.

Not quite true to form, I guess. Also, I literally cannot wait for the pro/con articles about Schilling's candidacy in five years. It's going to be wonderful. I don't even know if this blog will exist, still, but if it has gone fallow we might have to revive it just for that discussion.

Also: wins are stupid.

Chris (London, UK): What's your take on the Mariners this season? Are they underperforming, or were they always going to be this bad?

Joe Morgan: I think they are underperforming and a lot of it could be injuries and the bad start which cost them their cofidence.

I just got 102 points on Scrabulous with "cofidence."

I thought they were going to be in it in the West. I think their confidence has eroded due to the bad start and the many tough losses they have suffered in the proccess.

Reasons Cited So Far For Mariners' Underperformance:

1. Injuries
2. Bad start
3. Loss of cofidence from bad start
4. Loss of confidence due to bad start
5. Losses

I thought they were a better team than this and the bad luck continues with the Hernadez injury.

And we come back all the way around to #1 with:

6. Injuries.

The end.

Labels: Consistenyl™, hall of fame, joe morgan, joechat

I mean, it's mind-boggling. Mike Pizza once hit 40 home runs and OPS+ed 185 as a dude who has to sit in a painful crouch for half of a three-hour game every day. Plus he wasn't a Bondsian-level jerkass, just sort of prickly-blah.

Everyone loves Pizza!

Not Paul Lukas, the guy who usually does Uni Watch, a feature I think I enjoy. Lukas also insists on calling Mike Pizza "Mike Piazza," which I don't really understand.

Good riddance, Mike Piazza

For fuck's sake, calm down.

Now that Mike Piazza has retired, people are already debating whether his Hall of Fame plaque should depict him in a Mets cap or a Dodgers cap.

The answer is clear: Marlins.

If you look at the numbers, it's no contest -- his greatest years were in L.A.

Yeah, he had four or five of his best offensive seasons with the Dodgers, no doubt. But he also four pretty amazing years with the Mets, spent more seasons in New York overall, went to that Subway Series with them in 2000, and held baseball's first "I'm not gay" press conference in New York. So there's something of a contest here, Lukas.

And as a lifelong Mets fan who never warmed up to Piazza, I don't want his enshrinement tied to my team, anyway. Here's why:

The truth comes out. This article isn't about Mike Pizza's Hall of Fame cap at all. I just read the whole thing -- it's actually six numbered bullet points about why Paul Lukas hates Mike Pizza.

Which is fine. It just seems a little disingenuous to Trojan horse the thing inside a "Which HOF cap debate?" question. Just call it "Lukas Loathes..." and put it on your personal blog. Come to think of it, this whole piece doesn't really belong on a major sports media outlet's website, now, does it?

1. When it became apparent that he'd have to move from catcher to first base, Piazza's behavior ranged from disingenuous to manipulative. A classy player would've stepped up and said, "I'll do anything to help the team -- where do you want me to play?"

As Derek Jeter did in 2004, leading to the formation of an unbreakable bond between Jeter and new arrival Alex Rodriguez. Together, these lifelong friends and eventual co-captains would go on to win six consecutive championships, with Rodriguez shattering the record for home runs by a shortstop and becoming the greatest of all time at his position.

A-Rod, ever magnanimous, gave all credit to Jeter: "Derek showed true leadership by shifting to third and allowing me to continue to play at short, where I'm most comfortable. I couldn't have hit all of those clutch ninth-inning home runs without his unwavering support."

Jeter: "He's the king of New York. He eats the pressure for breakfast and asks for seconds. That's why they call him Clutch-Rod."

Rodriguez: "I have a strong feeling there would have been a devastating hurricane in the southeastern United States some time in 2005 if Derek Jeter had not shifted to third base. Just one of those feelings, you know."

What were we talking about again?

But Piazza kept playing dumb, tossing out quotes like, "Well, management hasn't said anything to me about it, so I really don't know."

Oh, right, Pizza. I don't know. Let's say you're the greatest fucking hitting catcher of all time, no one from your team has told you directly that they want you to move to first base, and it's not like the A-Rod of catching has just been traded to your squad. In fact, you yourself are the A-Rod of catching, hitting-wise.

Do you preemptively volunteer to play first?

I'm not fucking moving anywhere 'til I'm told to.

Right, the whole city of New York is talking about it but you have no clue. Sure.

You heard it here first: Paul Lukas expects players to switch positions based on talk radio chatter and Post back page headlines.

When skipper Art Howe eventually mentioned to some reporters that Piazza would be taking some infield practice at first base and the reporters then told Piazza, he acted all offended because Howe didn't tell him beforehand.

It seems like this would kind of piss me off too.

2. One reason he didn't want to play first base was that he was obsessed with that stupid record for most home runs hit by a catcher -- a record that exactly one person in town cared about. Can you guess who that one person was?

The ghost of Mohammed Atta?

(Hint: Rhymes with "Mike Piazza.")

Oh. It was baseball historian and NYU Classics professor Ike Miazza. Figures.

3. Of course, once Piazza finally played first base, we found out the real reason why he'd been avoiding the issue: The guy's a horrible athlete.

So horrible he made over $120 million playing a sport professionally while not being a seven-foot-four acromegalic from Madeupeasterneuropeancountry-ovakia-istan.

Great hitter, yes, but not a good athlete.

Ah yes. David Ho: great AIDS researcher, but not a good scientist.

No coordination, no footwork.

Note to all aspiring high school baseball players: it takes zero coordination and zero footwork to play catcher for a Major League Baseball team for nearly 15 seasons. Catcher: the position played by physical dum-dums!

And it went way beyond his inability to play first base. I defy anyone to find one instance -- one single instance -- of Mike Piazza properly executing a slide into second or third base. Never happened. Why? Get this: MIKE PIAZZA CAN'T SLIDE. It's true. When he tried to slide, he'd spaz out and trip. Really!

And because he couldn't slide, Mike Pizza shouldn't...wear a Mets cap...in the Hall of Fame?

I feel like we've gone off the rails a little bit, people.

4. When the New York Post implied that Piazza was gay, he held that little press conference where he declared his heterosexuality. OK, fine. But he missed a huge opportunity to say, "But what if it was true? What if I was gay? So what? What if one of my teammates is gay? What if one of YOU is gay? It's no big deal. Listen, I'm straight, but this whole thing is really a nonissue." In a city with a huge gay population, that was an opportunity to show some real community leadership, and he totally spit the bit.

Yeah, it would've been cool if he had done that. I bet Mike Pizza is a little homophobic. Or maybe he's really gay. I don't know. But I also bet that a good number of the Mets that Paul Lukas absolutely adores are also a little homophobic. It seems like a professional athlete thing to be.

** EDIT **

Also, as many many many readers have just pointed out to me, Pizza sort of did say the whole thing was a nonissue:

"In this day and age, it's irrelevant," he said. "I don't think it would be a problem at all."

So at least at that press conference, he didn't seem all that homophobic at all. He was a gay-friendly Pizza, like one with basil and Roma tomatoes. (Note: I did not say "with sausage" because it's too phallic, I did not say "with pineapple" because it's too fruity, and I did not say "with clam and garlic" because that's too vagina-y.)

** END EDIT **

5. A few days after Roger Clemens beaned him in 2000, Piazza said that the incident had made him reassess the DH. "I thought the DH could be a good thing for me later in my career," he said, "but now I see that it's bad for baseball, because the pitcher can throw at the batter with no fear of retaliation." So what did he do after leaving the Mets? He shopped himself to American League teams with hopes of becoming a DH. None of them were interested, so he signed with the Padres, but then he went to the A's, where he happily DH'd. Hypocrite.

He said that first thing after he got a damn concussion from one of Clemens' 160-mph torP.E.D.oes. Five years later, you want him to end his career out of the mere principle of sticking to an offhand anti-DH comment to the media after he got hit in the head?

6. "The runner goes, here's the throw from Piazza -- and it comes in on two hops."

He was a bad thrower. He was also the best player on your favorite team for years and years. He slugged .941 in the 2000 NLCS. He hit 40, 38, 36, and 33 home runs from 1999-2002, batting in anywhere from 94 to 124 runs in each of those seasons. And yes, he broke the record for home runs hit by a catcher, which is kind of a big deal if you're the type of person who cares at all about what hat a man wears inside the Baseball Men Hall of People Who Hit and Pitched and Fielded Well.

Was Piazza a tremendous offensive player? Yes. Did I sometimes cheer for him? Yes.

Sometimes?

But he never fulfilled his potential as a star, in the fullest sense of that term. Too bad.

star
Pronunciation: \ˈstär\
Function: noun
1 : a player who changes positions as soon as Jesse from Queens calls into Mike and the Mad Dog and asks him to
2 : a player who does not try to hit more home runs than anyone who has played his position ever has in the history of the game
3 : a player who practices sliding, not hitting
4 a : a player who uses his "I'm not gay" press conference as an opportunity to speak out for gay equality, or barring that, b : a gay guy
5 : someone who has never contradicted in action what he or she has once said in words
6 : Yadier Molina, because hey, what an arm!

Labels: dodgers, hall of fame, mets, mike piazza, mike pizza, paul lukas, pizza

Take it away, Mr. Excellence:

Memo to 30-year-old stat geeks combing through Jim Rice's numbers: Get out of the house and look at the sky one time. I know personal contact frightens you, but let go of OPS for a moment and try talking to someone who saw Rice play, or better yet, played against him.

An excellent idea. And excellently presented. I should have thought of this. Here I am, a 30 year-old stat geek, living here in my mother's basement, eyes glued to my computer, playing God by determining who should be admitted to the Hall of Fame via Excel spreadsheets. It never occurred to me -- I mean, it literally never even occurred to me -- that I could go watch these games in person. (Truth be told, I actually didn't know they were live events, presented in front of an audience. I assumed -- and who can blame me, given my half-carbon-based, half Intel© Celeron Processor-based brainputer -- that baseball games were avatar simulations run from a Cray Supercomputer somewhere in Langley.

I should definitely talk to someone about what baseball looks like when human men play it. Perhaps I can ask my friend Walter, whose family has had season tickets to Fenway for like 60 years. Or my friend Dave, who essentially lived in Section 41 for the years 1992-1998. Or maybe I can reprogram my frontal lobe algorithm to access stories from my dad, or any one of the hundreds of Sox fans I know, or even from the dark recesses of my own pre-robotic-conversion brain, where live memories of (rough estimate) around six or seven hundred live baseball games I watched, live or on TV, in which Jim Rice played.

That would certainly help me objectively evaluate Jim Rice's candidacy for the Hall, instead of just analyzing the millions of lines of Matrix-style code that I see when I look at a picture of him.

Please stop writing things like this, Dan. Thanks.

Love,

KT

P.S. I just climbed up the 1000-foot ladder leading out of my basement and looked at the sky for the first time. Holy fucking shit! It's huge!

Labels: dan shaughnessy, hall of fame, jim rice, mother's basement, statistics

Think about that, Buster. Crash.

Jim Rice, Hall of Fame, we're all sick of the argument. He's borderline-ish, probably on the side of not Hallworthy. Buster Olney has this, defending his pro-Rice article (which we'll hopefully get to also) from yesterday:

If you want to quibble with the fact that he won the award in 1978, or with his placement in some particular year, OK, I get that. But to ignore the MVP voting entirely, as if it isn't at least some kind of barometer of his play over the course of his career, is embarrassing. This is like saying, "Hey, forget the Oscar voting of the 1950s. Marlon Brando was clearly overrated."

I don't ignore MVP voting entirely. I take it with a Ganymede-size grain of salt. And I, as do most sentient human beings and well-trained domestic helper animals, do the exact same thing with Oscar voting. Your argument doesn't only rely on Marlon Brando. It relies on Forrest Gump. Crash. Marisa Tomei. You, Buster Olney, are saying that you will be happy when Juno wins the Oscars for Best Screenplay, Best Actress, Best Director, Best Documentary, Best Animated Film and Best Supporting Actor (the film itself will win this award, not a person).

Sure, the MVP is "some kind of barometer." But the kind of barometers that pick Pudge Rodriguez over Pedro Martinez in 1999 or A Beautiful Mind over any movie ever aren't necessarily devices I want to hang in my home.

Labels: buster olney, hall of fame, jim rice, mvp

But I think I have to do it anyway.

Settle in.

Regarding this increasingly hard-to-get-into baseball shrine of ours:

[Super over-the-top sarcastic; leaning in as if transfixed] Uh huhhhhhh?!?!?!?!?

A monument to the greatest ballplayers who ever lived, it is about to bar its doors and deny admittance to baseball's all-time leader in hits (Pete Rose) and home runs (Barry Bonds), as well as to the third-best batting average in history (Joe Jackson's .356) and quite possibly to the gargantuan feats of Clemens, Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire.

Rose: cheated/lied
Bonds: cheated/lied
Jackson: cheated/maybe didn't/made an example of
Clemens: seems to have cheated/seems to have lied/not voted on yet
Sosa: cheated/lied
McGwire: cheated/lied/lied to Congress*

Let me give you a prime example of the absurdity of it all:

[so over-the-top sarcastic I now have a British accent] Would you please?!!?!

Harold Baines received a mere 28 votes in the recently tabulated Hall of Fame election. The former White Sox outfielder fell 380 shy of the 408 required for induction. Fourteen other players from this year's ballot alone received more than Baines did.

OK, are you ready?

Ready!

Harold Baines has more hits than Brooks Robinson, Charlie Gehringer, George Sisler, Luke Appling, Lou Gehrig … (keep going) … Billy Williams, Luis Aparicio, Nellie Fox, Jimmie Foxx, Ted Williams, Reggie Jackson, Ernie Banks … (don't stop now) … Joe Morgan, Tony Perez, Richie Ashburn, Ozzie Smith, Lloyd Waner, Pie Traynor, Mickey Mantle … (tired yet?) … Ryne Sandberg, Carlton Fisk, Orlando Cepeda, Eddie Mathews, Kirby Puckett, Mike Schmidt …

Who on blog's green earth would evaluate HOF inductees solely by hits? What kind of insane cherry pick is that? Not any other stat. Not longevity or era...not even taking position into account. Just: hits. Hits! That's like evaluating pitchers based on saves and deciding Pedro Martinez doesn't get in because he only has three.

I guess the answer is: Mike Downey of the Trib. He would evaluate HOF inductees solely by hits.

So, here's where it gets annoying.

Baines: 120 OPS+

Gehringer: 124 OPS+ (as a 2bman)
Sisler: 124
Appling: 112 (as a SS. .399 career OBP)
Gehrig: 179 (4th all-time)
B. Williams: 133
Aparicio: 82. (I know he was a great fielder, but what the hell is he doing in the HOF? Look at his 1959 season. That must be the worst #2 finish in the MVP voting ever. Can someone who knows a lot about that guy please email me and explain it? I'm willing to learn.)
N. Fox: 93. Must have been a hell of a second baseman.
Foxx: 163
T. Williams: 191 (2nd all-time)
R. Jackson: 139
Banks: 122 (for a guy who played a lot of games at SS)
Morgan: 132 (2B)
Perez: 122 (and probably doesn't belong)
Ashburn: 111 (and probably doesn't belong)
O. Smith: 87, for maybe the best fielding SS ever.
L. Waner: only 99 for Little Poison. But he had like 2450 hits in 2200 fewer AB than Baines, and a .316 career average.
Traynor: 107, but he hit .320 career and had 2400+ hits in 7500 AB.
Mantle: 172
Sandberg: 114 as a very good-fielding 2Bman.
Fisk: 117 as a catcher
Cepeda: 133
Mathews: 143
Puckett: 124
Schmidt: 147

The few people he's named who have career OPS+s lower than Baines are either middle IF or C or something, and/or had far higher BA (and thus many more hits in far fewer AB).

And now he's going to name some more people.

(We're almost done now) … Joe DiMaggio, Kiki Cuyler, Joe Cronin, Joe Medwick, Bill Terry, Pee Wee Reese, Yogi Berra, Duke Snider, Harmon Killebrew, Willie McCovey, Johnny Bench, Gary Carter, George Kell, Bobby Doerr, Bill Mazeroski, Johnny Mize, Bill Dickey, Gabby Hartnett, Jackie Robinson and a couple of dozen other "immortals" whose busts are in the Hall of Fame.

I am so annoyed right now.

DiMaggio: 155 OPS+
Cuyler: 125 (and a .386 OBP)
Cronin: 117 (.390 OBP primarily as a SS)
Medwick: 134
Terry: 136
Reese: 99 as a SS (and a .366 OBP)
Berra: 125
Snider: 140
Killebrew: 143
McCovey: 147
Bench: 126
G. Carter: 115 (might not belong)
Kell: 111 (.306 career, elected in by Veterans Committee)
Doerr: 115 as 2Bman. Voted in by VC.
Maz: 84. Voted in by VC. Probably doesn't belong.
Mize: 158
Dickey: 127
Hartnett: 126
J. Robinson: if you have to defend Jackie's inclusion by any measure into the HOF you're an idiot. But his OPS+ is 132.

So there you have it. Very few of the people Downey has listed had a lower adjusted OPS than Harold Baines. The ones that did either played a much tougher position, or racked up tons of hits in a much shorter amount of time, or were Wizards defensively, or were voted in by that big softie of a teddy bear the Veterans Committee, or probably shouldn't be there at all.

How could you begin to explain who is worthy and who is not?

By using something other than "career hits" to evaluate them. Do you really not know the answer to that question?

How do you justify to people why Goose Gossage and Bruce Sutter are in Cooperstown, with their humble stats, whereas Lee Smith is not and Clemens with his colossal 354 victories might never be?

Sutter was a weak choice. Gossage was somewhat more defensible, and he had years where he threw like 134 innings. I'm not sure what the argument is against Lee Arthur -- he had roughly a K per inning, and his WHIP is just about the same as Gossage's, though Gossage threw like 600 more innings. And Clemens might not be voted in because he seems to have cheated, lied, and then lied again on 60 Minutes, and then (theoretically) lied to Congress. Did you not hear about that? It was in all the papers.

How do you point out to the public—or, for that matter, to the voters—that Baines stands 40th on the all-time hits list? That he had seven fewer hits than Babe Ruth?

Well...you could start by saying that Harold Baines was a very good, but not great, hitter, who is 27th on the all-time at-bats list with 9908. And if a guy is a very good, but not great, hitter who has 9908 AB, he will probably get a lot of hits, but that doesn't necessarily make him one of the greatest players every to play the game. You might cite Al Oliver (9049 AB, 2743 H) as another of these people. Or Craig Biggio (10876 AB, 3060 H).

And then someone might say "But Craig Biggio should be in the Hall of Fame!" and you might say, "I think I agree with you, because although he had a tremendous number of AB, which helped him get those 3060 hits, he played very tough positions -- catcher, 2B, CF -- which make his statistical accomplishments more impressive than Harold Baines's, since Baines played more than 60% of his games as a DH and the others as a corner OF."

And then -- your voice straining, your hands shaking from having to explain these incredibly simple concepts to a grown man -- you could also maybe say that Babe Ruth was the greatest fucking hitter in the history of baseball, that he hit more HR in 1921 than eight entire teams, that he is the all-time leader in OPS+, that he hit .342, that he had those seven more hits in 1600 fewer AB than Baines, that he hit 714 HR playing in an era where there was a HOFer whose nickname was "Home Run" who never hit more than twelve HR in a season, and that comparing Harold Baines favorably to Babe Ruth in anything except "months lived after the year 1948" is the biggest and most disingenuous waste of fucking time anyone could possibly fucking imagine.

Would that help explain it?

Couldn't they contend that Bill Buckner's 2,715 hits also are more than the likes of Ted and Billy Williams had, more than Reggie and Mickey, more than Fox and Foxx, more than Mr. Cub and Joe D and Yogi and the Duke? But that by no stretch of your imagination would Billy Buck strike you as worthy of the Hall?

Couldn't they say that Jose Guillen is a better baseball player than Barry Bonds because Guillen has more hit-by-pitches? Yes -- but they would be insane.

How do you argue with Ron Santo's rabid supporters that, good as he was, he ranks tied for 140th place in hits, 80th in home runs, 82nd in RBIs and that his .277 lifetime average was not exactly the stuff of legends?

You say: "He was really good, but not quite good enough." Or, you don't argue at all, but rather agree. Either way is valid.

Roger Maris is not in the Hall of Fame. As you well know, Maris not only broke the Babe's single-season home run record of 60, he did it on a diet that included beer and cigarettes, not human growth hormone.

What is the point? What are we even talking about? Did I die? Am I dead? This seems like hell.

More and more, you hear nostalgic baseball purists rue the fact that Maris never was deemed worthy of the Hall, the same way a lights-out hitter like Jim Rice repeatedly has been denied entry … this week for the 14th consecutive year.

Who hears this? No one seriously believes Roger Maris is one of the all-time greats, really. I think I'm dead.

Well, permit me to remind these folks something about Mr. Maris.

He had 1,325 hits. That ranks him in a tie for 731st place all-time.

Right. Doesn't deserve it. There's no argument here. (I'm definitely dead. Someone murdered me. And this is my penance. I am consigned to reading and commenting on this article for the rest of time.)

Players who already have more hits than Maris did in his entire career include these giants of the game: Jose Valentin, Tony Womack, Neifi Perez, Cliff Floyd, Juan Pierre, Rondell White, Royce Clayton, Ray Durham, Jason Kendall and Mark Grudzielanek.

No one fucking thinks Roger Maris should be in the Hall of Fame. If they do, they're wrong. You are not proving anything by just citing hit totals. (I think I know who did it. I think it was HatGuy. You know how no one's heard from HatGuy in a long time? He's been laying low and planning my murder.)

I see occasional references to "can't-miss" Hall of Famers among active players. Yet so many can't-missers have missed.

Luis Gonzalez, a fine individual, certainly no immortal, currently stands 85th on the all-time hits list. Did you know that? He has more hits than Mantle and DiMaggio did, more than Sandberg and Sosa and Frank Thomas, more than Rice, a guy Boston Red Sox fans continue to adore.

Who adores Luis Gonzalez? Anybody?

Not for the Hall of Fame, no, dummy, no one does.

Steve Finley has more hits than Gonzalez. Is anyone likely to vote for Finley a few years from now? Not many, if any.

So when those of us who cast ballots are asked to weigh every factor—total hits vs. average vs. power vs. fielding vs. durability vs. character—you can see how we might become discombobulated at times, trying to sort it all out.

You didn't do that. You cited their hit totals. You said nothing of average, power, fielding, durability, or character. Nothing. You talked about hits.

Bert Blyleven is not a Hall of Famer. That is a fact as well as an opinion. I have friends and colleagues who all but crusade for Blyleven's candidacy, year after year, citing his very impressive shutout and strikeout counts.

Yet I cannot bring myself to deem Blyleven any better or more worthy than Jim Kaat, Tommy John, Jack Morris and so many others who have failed to gain admission to the Hall. I can't find the discrepancy in their careers.

I just can't bring myself to do this again. Look at Blyleven's best ERA+ and WHIP seasons, his Ks, his shutout totals, his 15 seasons of 200+ Ks (Morris had 3), his postseason record, whatever you want. Then consider that if the teams he played for, or their bullpens, were just very slightly better, like 1% better, he would have won 300 games instead of 287 and no one would ever for one second consider not voting for him. Do you realize that? If he had won 300 games, he would have been a first-ballot guy. People would have said, "300 wins, 5th all-time in Ks, 13th in innings, awesome postseason pitcher -- he's a lock!" Instead, he has 287 wins and people fall all over themselves telling you why he is not in any way a HOFer. It's insane.

There are three kinds of professional baseball players: good, great and immortal. You need to be a good one simply to reach that level, no matter what kind of Mario Mendoza-like batting average you might have beside your name. Hundreds have been excellent, but how many have been truly legendary?

About 280 or so.

Gossage is the 61st pitcher to gain induction. He won 124 games. Clemens very well could be barred from the Hall because of performance-enhancing drug use that has not been proven. He has won 354 games.

Pay attention, people. A new low has been reached. A new god-damned all-time son of a bitching low, in the history of journalism. Not sports journalism -- journalism of any kind. This last paragraph is worse than the worst war reporting, the worst economic reporting, the worst paragraph from the worst article about the most inane party during the worst Hamptons season by the worst society reporter from the worst Hamptons-based magazine.

Mike Downey discussed Goose Gossage's HOF legitimacy by citing his win total.

Forget for the moment that wins are stupid for pitchers, because pitchers rely on at least 8 (and usually like 12-14) other people in order to be credited with a win. Also please forget for the moment that if a pitcher throws 5 innings and gives up 18 runs on 27 hits, but in those 5 innings his team scores 19 runs, he could get a win. Also, forget that a pitcher can come into a game in the seventh inning with a 3-run lead and the bases loaded, give up a triple that clears the bases, then get one out when his CF robs the next batter of a HR, then have his team score runs in the bottom of that inning and he gets credited with a win. Forget all of that and realize this:

Goose Gossage is a fucking relief pitcher.

He's a reliever.

Relievers don't usually gets wins.

Most people know this.

He's a reliever.

In the words of Jean-Paul Sartre: "Hell is -- other [sports journalists]."

Goose is an immortal but the Rocket is not? What kind of Hall of Fame is this going to be, anyhow? One that excludes the greats but includes the merely good?

1. Again, Gossage was a reliever, so his "immortality" has nothing to do with wins. (Although the fact that he had 124 wins is pretty incredible, when you think about it -- in fact, it probably serves to highlight how many innings the guy threw, and how good he was in those innings.)

2. The "Rocket" is quite cockfaceingly obviously one of the greatest pitchers of all time. The fact that he might not get in -- and of course you know this, you sniveling little muckraker -- has nothing to do with this win totals.

3. The Hall of Fame will include the very best players of all time who didn't cheat and/or lie about stuff.

See you in hell, Downey.

Labels: babe ruth, bert blyleven, craig biggio, goose gossage, hall of fame, harold baines, jean-paul sartre, lee smith, mike downey, roger clemens, roger maris

Geez Louise.

What disturbs me about the Hall of Fame is that it appears to have morphed into a numbers honor. Benchmarks have been set for automatic entry: 3,000 hits, 500 homers, and 300 wins. Blogs allow more analysis from the world of sabermetrics. Pure statistical breakdowns are here to stay in baseball front offices. And they have earned their place. But the view here is their role in the Hall-of-Fame voting should be limited to clarifying one’s achievements, not defining the achievement.

I'm going to go ahead and agree with this. The Hall of Fame should not be just about numbers. But it should kind of be about numbers, right? Because, you know...they're numbers. They tell us things. In fact, it's numbers that should define a player's achievements, and anecdotal reporting that should clarify and elaborate on the numbers. So: you are exactly wrong, Ted Robinson.

Players must only be compared against their peers and within their eras. No number can be truly compared across generations for reasons so obvious they need not be offered here.

Except that there is ERA+. And OPS+, EqA+, and WARP3. And others. So, the reasons aren't so obvious to me.

If a deep study is needed to buttress a player’s case, it is most likely an unworthy argument.

First of all, nice use of "buttress," which is a fancy word that makes people sound smart. Second of all, saying that studying is lame is usually reserved for dumb jocks in John Hughes movies. So, good work aligning yourself with them.

Bottom line: the Hall of Fame is about quality, not quantity.

Why are these things mutually exclusive? Why not say: The Hall of Fame is about quality and quantity? What bad thing would happen if someone wrote that? Hell, I just wrote it and I seem to be -- my eyes!!! No!!! What is happening?!?!?!?1/?!?

Leonard Koppett, the late New York sportswriter who has been honored by the baseball and basketball Halls of Fame, told me repeatedly that his Hall-of-Fame voting standard was simple: if he had to think about the player’s candidacy, then the vote was no. To Leonard, a Hall of Famer was obvious.

Excellent. A new criterion for HOF induction: induce the right answer in a game of word association with Leonard Koppett.

I have immense respect for the passion displayed by those who analyze baseball in new ways. They often present fresh and compelling arguments on Hall of Fame candidates, Rob Neyer being the best of the group. But I hold firmly that my 22 years of traveling with MLB teams provided the best perspectives and judgments on players.

Quick diversion coming up.

Every beat writer/broadcaster has had the greatest education baseball can provide -- the daily intimacy through which we learn about the unique rhythms of the game, the people who play it, and what makes them succeed or fail. Dispassionate analysis can support but never replace or supersede that education. Is there emotion and subjectivity in such an approach? Most likely, but that’s a price well paid in determining an honor so important.

Some diversionary things:

This may neither be here nor there. But. It is, in my opinion, the utter lack of objectivity amongst the entire BBWAA that led to the biggest scandal in pro sports in decades -- widespread, in-plain-air doping amongst a significant portion of the players' union -- going unreported for more than a decade. Emotion and subjectivity are nice if you're you, Ted, and you get to hang out with baseball players who call you "Teddy" or "Slim" or "Thunder Boner" or something. But if you're me, and you rely on the BBWAA for news, information, and judgments about a sport you love, then emotion and subjectivity suck ass.

They are not charming or cool or things to be celebrated and valued. They are a shitty trump card that writers use to tell the world that you just don't understand. You had to be there. I know stuff you don't. You can look at all the numbers you want, but guess what, computer boy. I sat at Jack Morris's feet when he was soaking in the whirlpool before game 7 of the Series and held a plastic tobacco-juice cup to his mouth. And I asked him, "Jack, how do you feel?" And he leaned over and spat into the cup, and some of the juice got on my hand and shirt and stuff, and that juice smelled like...victory. And I stared into his eyes, and he had a look about him that said: I'm gonna throw a shutout. And that: that is the only piece of information I need to know that Jack Morris is a Hall of Famer.

So fuck you, guy who didn't do that.

(My guess is, he didn't hear the question, and the look in his eye was, "Why is this dude sitting so close to me when I'm naked?)

I like subjectivity and emotion. I am a Red Sox fan, and when I watch Red Sox games I get pretty effing subjective and emotional. Before 2004, I often accused Major League Baseball of planning and enacting a conspiracy to keep the Red Sox from winning a World Series -- a conspiracy that included the umpires' union, stadium construction firms, Fox TV, Curt Gowdy, whoever invented the Weather Machine that pushed Bucky Dent's ball over the Monster in 1978, and thousands of others, reaching into the upper tiers of our nation's government. Once, during a Sox-Yankees playoff game in 1999, I emotionally subjectified a glass duck through the window of my apartment. But when it comes to things like permanent enshrinement in the Hall of Fame, can't we tone down the emotional subjectivity? Can't the basis for enshrinement be career numbers, with emotional subjectivity serving as the final dash of icing on top of the delicious objective cake?

No? Okay. Keep going.

With that background, Tuesday can bring legitimacy to the electorate if Goose Gossage and Jack Morris are voted in to the Hall of Fame.

Uh oh.

Let me start by saying I have never met Gossage but he is being dealt a great wrong by not being in the Hall of Fame.

So: recap:

A. You can't really know whether someone is worthy of the Hall of Fame unless you cover baseball and travel with the teams...unless you hang out with the players during their careers...unless you lick the sweat off their foreheads after a game...unless you personally hand-wash their undershirts, deeply breathing in the pungent fumes left by their dirty, subjective bodies. That's the only way you can truly know a man well enough to determine whether he is a Hall of Famer.

B. I have never met Goose Gossage, but he is definitely a Hall of Famer.

Dennis Eckersley and Bruce Sutter belong, but so does Gossage -- the most feared reliever since the closer role developed.

Every time someone makes an argument about a player by saying that player was the "most feared," I barf a little on myself.

Here’s what I know. In 1980, I stood just outside the Oakland dugout as Gossage entered in the ninth inning with a one-run lead. Billy Martin, the A’s manager, turned to summon pinch-hitters but he couldn’t find any. The lefty hitters, most likely to be drafted, had scattered. No one wanted to face Gossage in his prime. Not one batter was anywhere near the bat rack. Martin’s coaches had to round up the available men. I have never seen a similar moment.

I'm calling bullshit here. When a team's closer comes in for the ninth, do you often find tons of guys lingering around the bat rack hoping to get a chance to jump into the game cold against a (usually) really good pitcher? That's a common sight in baseball? And what were the other circumstances? Had one of the A's pitchers hit a Yankee the day before? Was Gossage drunk?

Now, obviously, I wasn't there. Gossage was an awesome pitcher, and guys fear awesome pitchers with fu manchus. But: I just don't think the entire team was cowering under the bench and fainting like a bunch of Southern belles when Sherman's armies closed on Atlanta.

Here's where things get really good.

I spent many hours with Morris during the 1991 season and developed an intense admiration for his pitching as you’ll read below.

I was pleasantly stunned to read a glowing endorsement for Morris in the Sunday New York Times. All the sensible reasons that Morris should already be an inductee were presented. Simply, he was the best pitcher of his time (this seems to surprise some but wins and losses are the prime currency of baseball and Morris was the winningest pitcher of his full decade, the 1980s).

1. If he was the best pitcher of his time, why didn't the hallowed BBWAA -- the selfsame organization you seem to hold in such high esteem because they travel with the players -- ever vote him the best pitcher in his league? Ever? Once?

2. For that matter, why didn't they ever vote him second-best?

3. Morris started pitching in 1977. There were a lot of good pitchers hanging around at that time. Ron Guidry was pretty good in 1978. Bret Saberhagen debuted in 1984. Roger Clemens enters stage left in 1984 and kicks things into high gear in 1986. Maddux didn't show up until 1988, really, and Jim Palmer's last good year was 1982. So, Morris just happened to show up at the right time -- hitting his stride at the age of 25 in 1980 -- to have a very good 1980-1989.

He (-slash his team's batters and relief pitchers) won 162 games in the 1980s. Excellent job. Is your old buddy Jim Kaat a Hall of Famer, Ted? Because from 1966-1975 he won 162 games. That's a decade. From 1962 to 1971 he won 159. That's also a decade. Why aren't we hearing about how Jim Kaat won a ton of games from 1966-1975? Oh -- right. Because completely randomly, 1966-1975 isn't a stupidly arbitrary "clean decade."

Saying that Jack Morris should be in the Hall of Fame because he won the most games in the 1980s is like saying that lots of crazy shit is going to happen the second the clock strikes midnight on Dec. 31, 1999. Because it's the year 2000!! A round number!!! That is significant!!!!!

He was a good pitcher who won a lot of games = okay argument.

Those games are more meaningful as a group because they occurred during years that begin with 198 = irrelevant irrelevant irrelevant stupid stupid come on people we're better than this.

And his postseason exploits in a culture that reveres winners and humbles the runner-up (check on that with Fran Tarkenton, Bud Grant, Jim Kelly or Marv Levy) should be indisputable.

Postseason:

7-4 with a 3.80 ERA overall. 64 Ks and 32 BB in 92.1 innings. Not bad. 3-2 with a 4.87 ERA in LCS play. 0-1 with a 6.57 in the 1992 ALCS in 2 starts. (But he made up for it in the World Series, though, when he went 0-2 with an 8.44 ERA in two starts.)

Jack Morris pitched really really well in several postseason games, including one truly great 10-inning outing. But he also pitched crappily in several postseason games. His postseason exploits, therefore, are eminently disputable.

(Also, Fran Tarkenton, Bud Grant, Jim Kelly and Marv Levy were "humbled" to the tune of: all of them are in the Football Hall of Fame. Weird choices.)

Somehow the numbers folks have dissected Morris and point to his 3.90 career ERA (3.73 if you eliminate his final two over-the-hill years)

Do you get to do that now? It's like figure skating judging? You get rid of the two worst years? Then let's also get rid of his two best years. So, subtract 42 wins and like 450 Ks from his totals. Also, a minor drop in ERA from 3.90 to 3.73, when you get rid of his two highest year totals, highlights the fact that he was pretty consistently between the mid-upper 3's and 4's over his entire career.

or his 254 wins (the benchmark factor. [sic]

Not the benchmark factor if you are a thinking human being.

([sic] is for inexplicable lack of close parens.)

I often read pieces that degrade the presence of players already inducted to inflate another’s candidacy. That tact is distasteful. If you care, just compare Morris with his peers, including those already in the Hall of Fame. In every measure of quality, Morris is a no-brainer. In measures that are more significant to the analysts (ERA, WHIP, etc.), Morris can be tainted.

So:

If you look at "every measure of quality" (or: wins, I guess) he gets in.

If you look at "measures that are more significant to the analysts" (or, by elimination, things that are not "measures of quality") he does not.

Thus: he does not.

Problem with that thinking is that Morris was the top dog on three World Series title teams. Find me a peer who matches that claim.

So, here's your plan: first, challenge me to find a man who was lucky (and skilled) enough to be on three teams that made the World Series. Hard to do, right? And then use that like a club to beat me over the head when I say that Jack Morris might not belong in the HOF.

Also, call Morris the "top dog" of the 1992 Blue Jays Postseason despite the fact that he lost both of his WS starts, including giving up 7 ER in 4.2 IP with a chance to close out the Series in Game Five.

Indisputable!!!!!

Morris wasn’t a stat man’s lover, he just won. Let’s make sure everyone has that one more time. Morris was the number one guy on three World Series winners. And he pitched one of the two greatest postseason games in history.

Bert Blyleven's career postseason #'s: 5-1, 2.47 ERA, 38/8 K/BB ratio in 47 innings. Fuck him.

And if you're going to use that one awesome game 7 to bludgeon me with a pro-vote, I will use that one stinky Game 5 to bludgeon you with my anti-vote. He gave up 7 runs in 4 2/3 innings in a clinching game! He's one of the worst choke-artists in starting pitching history. He let his team down. He blew it. He's Jean Van de Velde. He's worse than Ralph Branca. He doesn't belong in the Hall of Anything. He sucks!!!!!

(Crazy, right? It's what you're doing, only from the opposition party. So cool it.)

But here’s what I remember: late September 1991 and Minnesota is trying to clinch the AL West. The Twins are in Toronto where the Jays are looking to finish off the East. Morris was in the throes of a divorce throughout the summer. Often his mind would wander and the pain that can only be known to those with like experiences would surface. That weekend in Toronto seemed to be a time when the cumulative weight of his personal life crashed down upon Morris. Yet, on a Saturday afternoon, he calmly went to the SkyDome mound and tossed a shutout at Toronto that clinched a division tie for the Twins.

Here's what I just looked up on a computer: Morris's 105 career ERA+ ties him for 460th all-time, with (among others) Zane Smith, Denny Naegle, and Paul Byrd.

After that, Game 7 of the World Series, one month later, was no surprise. And it’s why Morris passes the Leonard Koppett test --no thought needed. He is a Hall of Famer.

Even if I afford you the opportunity to apply the excellently-reasoned Leonard Koppet Test, Jack Morris demands a ton of thought. A fucking ton. He was a very good pitcher who did some great pitching things, but cold hard indisputable facts tell us that his career just does not measure up to "no-brainer" HOFers. Greg Maddux -- no thought. Tom Seaver, Walter Johnson, Steve Carlton, Pedro Martinez, Bob Gibson -- no thought.

Jack Morris? Are you kidding me? No thought?

And by the way, you started your argument with this:

If a deep study is needed to buttress a player’s case, it is most likely an unworthy argument.

Then you talked about Jack Morris's divorce, calculated his ERA if you drop his two worst seasons, referenced Fran Tarkenton, Bud Grant, Jim Kelly and Marv Levy, and cited a game Morris pitched on September 28, 1991. This isn't a deep study?

Congratulations to Goose Gossage, an excellent pitcher who probably deserves to be in the Hall of Fame. My condolences to Jim Rice, who probably does not belong in the Hall of Fame, and was not elected. My congratulations to the BBWAA for not stretching like crazy to elect Jack Morris into the Hall of Fame. And my "Fuck the Heck?" to the one dude who voted for Todd Stottlemyre.

Let's see that argument.

Labels: bert blyleven, food metaphors, fuck the heck, hall of fame, jack morris, ted robinson, todd stottlemyre

Just wanted to direct everyone's attention to Vegas Watch, which has a nicely compiled list of the worst HOF logic of the past year. One wonders whether these BBWAA people are ever actually confronted with their own words, and if so, what they do.

We're still gathering ourselves post-holidays, but promise to post some nonsense soon.

Labels: hall of fame, vegas watch

Hi, everyone. How are you. Good? Awesome. I'm good too. But enough small talk. I'd like to meta-discuss an email I got in some form or another from several persons who shall remain gallimaufry-nameless, after I posted this (in re: should Don Mattingly be inducted into the Hall of Fame of Baseball Players):

Don Mattingly gets into the Hall of Fame, I quit. Everything. I quit everything. He is nowhere close to being in the ballpark of being in the discussion of people who might possibly begin to be considered as potential people who might someday be on a long list of people who should be considered as people who might someday be considered to one day be part of the discussion of who are the players who maybe should be thought about as potential people who might one day be considered by the Committee to Discuss People Who Should Maybe Be Thought Of As Potential Hall of Famers Someday.

I will distill the emails I got into one general email, which went something like this:

Dear Ken,

You are a douche. Mattingly is awesome. Look at this [statistical evidence that shows that Don Mattingly was awesome.] Don Mattingly is at least as good as [man who is in the Hall of Fame]. Don't you think you should apologize to Don Mattingly, his parents, me, my friends, and everyone who has ever read your blog? I do. I think your post was a poorly-baked soufflé.

And for the record I don't even care that much about Don Mattingly qua Don Mattingly -- I just wanted to point out that you are wrong.

Sincerely,

Butch_Wynegar85@cottoneyejoe.utzpotatochips.bleachercreature.yes-network.tv

Let me say a couple things. First of all, .tv? Get a real email address, am I right? Second, nice use of "qua," hypothetical distilled amalgam man. Third, thanks for the soufflé mention -- food metaphor tag! And fourth, here's the thing:

Don Mattingly had some excellent baseballing years. But to me, a few excellent baseballing years does not get you into the Hall of Fame. It just doesn't. You have to be one of the very very best players in the game for a very long time. You have to be extraordinary. You have to get lucky and avoid injuries, yes, but once you avoid them, you have to excel, and you have to excel for a very long time. Mattingly just didn't play well enough, long enough. He just didn't. Neither, I think, did Jim Rice. Or Albert Belle. Jesus -- go look at Albert Belle's numbers from 1992 to 1998. The guy had a 193 OPS+ one year. He had 100 XBH in a season. He was a monster. He was to Mattingly what Mattingly was to Luis Polonia. But here's the thing: he was out of baseball at 33 because of injuries. So...he doesn't quite make it.

And yes, there's Kirby Puckett. (Shows you what some high-profile postseason moments do for you.) And yes, there's also like Phil Rizzuto and people like that whose numbers stink. But in my mind, you don't judge someone's candidacy based on "Who is the worst player currently in the HOF, and is Player X better than he?" If you judge any candidate for anything based on the lowest standards necessary for inclusion, you can keep finding reasons to include more and more people who might have one or two statistical categories that get their heads above those categorical waterlines, even if their overall package does not, and then you just keep re-centering the mean criteria lower and lower, and soon you have what Colin Cowherd would probably call a "Hall of Very Good." (And nobody wants Colin Cowherd to be right.)

In my opinion, you just base it on: do Player X's numbers show that he was one of the very best players in the game for a long time? Because there are a lot of guys who excel for 1-3 years and then kind of fade away. And the Hall should be reserved for the ones who don't fade away. Or, alternately, the guys whose careers were cut short for some tragic reason, but who were so insanely amazing at baseball -- so utterly and completely dominant -- that you cannot deny their outrageous shining brilliance. This is not Don Mattingly.

I would also point out that the criteria for inclusion should focus on the player's position, as well. It is a far tougher thing to be a dominant starting pitcher or great SS for ten years than it is to be a great first baseman. (If Pedro Martinez never threw another pitch after the 2002 season, it would have been hard to deny him entry.)

Anyway, this is almost certainly going to result in more emails from people who take umbrage at my nebulous reasoning. But I haven't found any dumb articles recently, and I had to do something to get rid of the increasingly shameless plugs for that poll thingy.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Labels: albert belle, don mattingly, food metaphors, hall of fame

Okay, fine. More fun from Heyman.

3. Andre Dawson. On ravaged knees, he made eight All-Star teams, hit 438 home runs, drove home 1,591 runs, won eight Gold Gloves and finished in the top two in MVP voting three times, winning for the last-place Cubs in 1987.

I don't understand why Dawson supporters always cite his "ravaged knees" as a like thing that makes his numbers be better than they are. "He had bad knees! He gets bonus points!" You wouldn't say about Tony Gwynn: "The guy hit .320 every year -- and he was fat!" The Hawk had bad knees. That happens to athletes sometimes. Lou Gehrig had fucking ALS and he was still better than basically everyone else.

Despite the fact that The Hawk had bad knees -- which is immaterial -- he was a very very good baseball player. A baseball player who made crazy amounts of outs (evidenced by his career .323 OBP). The Gold Gloves are essentially pointless, the MVP voting is suspect at best, and his career numbers just don't stack up. Sorry. I loved the guy. I watched a lot of Cubs games on WGN and he was super fun to watch hit. But look at his career, man. I crunched all these #s for this post, and I'm too bored to do it again.

4. Rice. An absolutely dominant hitter for a decade in Boston. Like Morris, I think, Rice loses points on personality. And that's not right.

You know nobody loves Jim Ed more than I. But again...he just wasn't as dominant as everyone says he was. Look for yourself. It's true. He was awesome for like 3-4 years, but then his eyesight went south -- which maybe Heyman thinks should work in his favor -- and he had injuries and stuff. Then he had a resurgence later as a DH, but it was too late, and he was done at like 33.

People always say that Rice was "the most feared" and the "scariest guy to see at the plate" and stuff...but for many of the years he played, he wasn't actually the best hitter, or player, on his own team. Look at Rice, and now look at Dewey. And remember that Rice was not the greatest OF, and that he DHed a lot, and that Dewey was an excellent RF. Why Dewey doesn't get more love for the Hall I'll never know. I don't think he should be in, but he never even sniffs a "Consider This Guy" article, and Jim Ed gets them all the time.

Anyway, the point is, Jim Ed = no, not quite, sorry. Love you. First Sox jersey was 14. Saw you hit a mammoth HR at Fenway in 1984 that might still be airborne. Just didn't play long enough, or well enough.

5. Dave Concepcion. This is his 15th and last year on the ballot, and he's probably going to get his usual 10 percent of the vote again. The reason I am in that 10 percent is that I think he was perhaps the best all-around shortstop of his generation and an underrated piece of the Big Red Machine. Great defender (five Gold Gloves) and superb stealer (321 stolen bases), his career looks a lot like Hall-of-Famer Phil Rizzuto's to me -- without the announcing, of course.

Great fielder. Couldn't hit a lick. (And yet, still had the same OBP as Dawson, which should be the thing that closes the book on Dawson. If you're a big feared power hitter and you don't walk enough to have a higher OBP than Dave Concepcion...).

The only thing he has going for him is that he was an excellent fielder. He was not a "superb" stealer -- he stole 321 bases, which is good for 130th all time. Just ahead of Gwynn, who was fat, and just behind Gary Redus. He was also caught 109 times. That's about a 75% success rate. Eh. Pretty good. But the only thing he was "great" at was fielding. If he had 580 SB, like Ozzie Smith did, then maybe you have an argument. But he did not.

6. Dave Parker. He was an MVP,

That's good.

an All-Star Game MVP,

That's almost completely pointless. Jesus Christ. He was 1-3 with a walk and an RBI. This is a credential for the Hall of Fame?! On the same level as like, "He had 3000 hits!" or whatever? Lunacy. (He did have 2 assists, though, which is pretty awesome, to have 2 assists in an ASG. Maybe he should be in.)

(Ironically, BTW, one of them was Jim Rice, at 3rd.)

a two-time batting champion,

Not bad.

a seven-time All-Star

I am asleep. You just put me to sleep.

and a three-time Gold Glove winner.

He has that in common with Minnie Minoso, Joe Rudi, and Eric Davis. Ugh. Now I'm in a coma. Look what you've done.

Here are some people Heyman says are "close, but not quite Cooperstown."

7. Mattingly. Every year, I am more and more tempted to vote for him.

Yes...like a siren song, the pleas of thousands of impossibly under-informed dummies from the Hudson River Valley waft through the air and strike the cochleae of willing BBWAA numbskulls..."He was gooooood...he won a baaaaaaaating title...his nickname has the word "baseball" in it...that has to mean something...".

Don Mattingly gets into the Hall of Fame, I quit. Everything. I quit everything. He is nowhere close to being in the ballpark of being in the discussion of people who might possibly begin to be considered as potential people who might someday be on a long list of people who should be considered as people who might someday be considered to one day be part of the discussion of who are the players who maybe should be thought about as potential people who might one day be considered by the Committee to Discuss People Who Should Maybe Be Thought Of As Potential Hall of Famers Someday.

But this makes it eight years I've resisted so far. One of the game's best players from 1984-89, a back injury sapped his strength and greatness.

Do you get more HOF points for a back injury or bad knees? Can someone look that up?

Won an MVP, a batting title, nine Gold Gloves and the hearts of New Yorkers.

He had some very good years. The Gold Gloves are essentially pointless. And winning the Hearts of New Yorkers is not, the last time I checked, a fucking qualification for anything, least of all the Baseball Hall of Fame. You know who else has won the hearts of New Yorkers? Darryl Strawberry, Lenny Dykstra, Turk Wendell, and Luis Sojo.

8. Raines. He made the All-Star team his first seven seasons, then didn't make it the next 16. Certainly appeared to be on his way to Cooperstown early, and he lasted long enough to compile some impressive numbers, including 2,605 hits and 808 stolen bases. But for two-thirds of his career, he was merely a very good player, not an All-Star player. Good enough for review in future years, though.

I feel bad about how over-the-top I was in re: Mattingly. But as you all know, my computer's delete key is broken. So instead of going back and revising what I wrote about Mattingly, I will simply exercise admirable (yes, I said it) restraint when I argue for Raines.

Rock, who actually had 811 SB according to BP (but 808 according to Baseball-Reference), is lumped into the "maybe someday we'll think it over category." Excellent. Raines stole a crazy number of bases, at like an 85% success rate. His career OBP stands at .386, which is very very very good for a man with 9000 AB. The man had a .307 career EqA. He is borderline, I think, but a much better candidate than many other people on this list.

See? I can be reasonable.

Labels: andre dawson, dave concepcion, dave parker, don mattingly, hall of fame, jim rice, jon heyman, tim raines

It's the most wonderful time of the year -- the time when sportswriters spell out their mostly embarrassing Hall of Fame selections in their columns and pre-emptively get defensive about them, as if they know deep down inside that they're wrong, but they just can't help themselves. With the way some serial FJM offenders have started peppering their work with more nerd-baiting barbs than ever before, I'm beginning to think that they want to be caught -- maybe the traffic they get from our site is, perversely, helping them keep their jobs. Take Jon Heyman.

Enshrinement in Cooperstown shouldn't be about numbers.

It should be about guessing. Waving your hands in the air and shouting baseball players' names. Loud. Getting piss-drunk on Schlitzes, beating up some Finnish guy for looking gay, putting more Schlitzes in your gut and then using that gut to remember who was great. Because who remembers better, guts or numbers? Guts. Guts remember.

If anyone thinks so, let's trash tradition and have a computer select the honorees.

You know who a computer would probably pick? All of his computer friends. Hope you like a Hall of Fame full of Commodore 64's, ENIACs and vacuum tubes, you number-loving asshole.

The Hall of Fame should be about who starred and who dominated. And about who made an impact.

It should be about greatness.

And how do we determine these things? Simple. Jon Heyman's brain matter. It's a little-known fact, but Jon Heyman's brain matter has been scientifically determined to be the most infallible substance on the planet Earth. Jon Heyman's brain matter has retained every scrap of information it has ever received through Jon Heyman's sensory organs. Jon Heyman's brain matter can tell you the number of hairs on the skin of a Lhasa Apso Jon Heyman's eyes saw in 1974, though of course it would prefer not to, because that would be a number, and numbers are insignificant to Jon Heyman's brain matter. Jon Heyman's brain matter specializes in the recognition of domination, star power, impact and greatness. It does not need numbers to aid it. It simply knows. We must trust it.

I know my annual ballot would be rejected by stat aficionados, number crunchers and many Moneyball disciples. I have one player with a .323 on-base percentage on my ballot, and another even lower, at .322. But numbers don't tell everyone's story.

I believe guys should be given some extra credit for miraculous games, postseason heroics, historical performances that become part of baseball lore. They better be pretty damn miraculous to outweigh a .322 OBP, though.

Nobody's ballot is perfect. Like Roger Clemens' overzealous lawyer, I am conducting my own investigation.

This investigation, at least according to the first sentence of your column, "shouldn't be about numbers." So what would it entail? My guess: Jon Heyman, magic mushrooms, a MIDI keyboard and GarageBand.

Also, sure, you say that nobody's ballot is perfect. But what better way to absolutely assure imperfection than to ignore swaths of readily available information? This is like Clarence Thomas blithely throwing reams of legal documents into an In-Sink-Erator while happily chattering "No one's judicial opinions are perfect! La la la la dorp!" I believe this happened in 1998.

It's an inexact science, to be sure, and part of the imprecision involves the few idiots who get to vote.

Again, it's a science made especially inexact when you throw out all of the data before you even begin. I love, of course, the irony of Heyman calling some other voters idiots -- I think this irony isn't even lost on him.

Some may call me an idiot, as well.

You saying that doesn't mean you aren't one.

But one thing I have going for me is that I am old enough to have seen and followed the entire careers of 24 of 25 players on this year's ballot (I was two when Tommy John broke in so I missed some of the pre-surgery John).

I think this is relevant. Watching all these guys can only help augment your careful research of their playing records --

That in mind, I don't feel the need to study the stat sheets too hard. I look, but I don't obsess.

I think I know who was great, who was close to great and who doesn't even belong on the ballot.

Oh. So you're saying you can remember off the top of your head exactly how great 24 of the 25 guys are. How dominant. How starry. How impactful. No obsessing for you! Just sleeping in a hammock, playing the harmonica. Hall of Fame, here we come! No need to study. You just know! Whee!

Bert Blyleven is one Cooperstown candidate who stirs a lot of emotion, sometimes from folks who barely saw him pitch and instead spent the past 10 years with their heads buried in a stat book.

Barely saw him pitch. Wasn't born yet. Then was too busy drawing dinosaurs in crayon. Have spent the past 10 years living and sleeping inside a giant copy of Bram Stoker's Dracula, not a stat book.

Blyleven did some great things in his career, and he pitched a lot of dominating games. Yet he never had a truly dominating season.

158 ERA+, 2.52 ERA, 1.117 WHIP, 258 Ks, 325 IP. Even 20 (bleah) wins. He was 22 years old.

142 ERA+, 2.66 ERA, 1.142 WHIP, 249 Ks. The very next year.

I'll stop boring you, since all numbers should be thrown out. But Bert went on to have four more years of ERA+s over 133. Jack Morris, a man of whom Heyman says "it's an abomination he may never get in," had exactly zero seasons that good. And if ERA+ is breaking your brain with its unbelievable complexity, Morris also never had an ERA under 3. Blyleven did. Nine times.

He threw 60 shutouts --

Wow, that's good!

-- but won 20 games only once in an era when 20-game winners weren't nearly so rare as they are today.

Let me use your own words against you, Jon. "Enshrinement in Cooperstown shouldn't be about numbers -- especially not numbers that are exceedingly arbitrary and almost completely divorced with actual quality (e.g. winning 20 games in a season)."

Your hero, Nobel Prize and Peabody Award winner Jack Morris won 21 games in 1992. His ERA+ was 102 and his plain ol' ERA was 4.04.

I do admire Blyleven's talent, and his longevity as well. But I still think Blyleven falls into that group of great compilers who weren't quite great enough players to make Cooperstown. Lee Smith, Harold Baines and John also fit that category -- though Blyleven's the closest of that group to making my ballot.

Add "compilers" to the list of "words people use when they don't have a substantive argument when talking about the Hall of Fame." I think there is probably some useful way to use the word -- a guy might be a compiler if he is good over a very long career and doesn't have a peak period of sustained greatness. But Blyleven was better than Morris in so many ways for so much longer...it just doesn't make sense here. Bert Blyleven was so much better than Harold Baines, the comparison is almost absurd.

Heyman will go on to spit out the word "compiler" several more times in the article with contempt, as if these guys selfishly chalked up statistics without even playing the games. This also doesn't make sense. Playing is playing. If Bert could've played on better teams, I'm sure he would've. As it was, he did win two World Series and recorded a 2.57 postseason ERA, compared to vaunted playoff performer Morris' 3.80.

Skipping ahead now:

THE CHOSEN

2. Jack Morris. The ace of three World Series teams, it's an abomination he may never get in. Morris made 14 Opening Day starts, tied with Steve Carlton, Randy Johnson, Walter Johnson and Cy Young, behind only Tom Seaver's 16 (the others already are or will be in Cooperstown).

Saying that you hate numbers and then using the number of Opening Day starts made as a criterion is like eschewing movie reviews...except for this one IMDb commenter, SandlerFan1993 -- he has such insightful opinions! Jack Morris made the Opening Day start for the Blue Jays in 1993. He went on to post a 6.19 ERA and a WHIP of 1.664. Inexplicably, he again was named the Opening Day starter the following year, this time for the Indians. At the end of the season, he could look back on a sweet 5.60 ERA and 1.627 WHIP. And we're giving him Hall of Fame credit for these meaningless Opening Day nods?

The only two reasons I can think of for him not making it are: 1) he got hit hard his final couple years and finished with a 3.90 ERA, and 2) he was no charmer. Neither is a good enough reason to omit him. His impact was great.

Well, look, you sort of glossed over the main reason, and that's his ERA, which is a halfway-decent measure of how many runs a guy tends to give up. Shouldn't that sort of be important when you're determining how great, impactful, dominant, or starry a pitcher was? Idly, I'd like to casually suggest some more reasons why Jack Morris might not be the best Hall of Fame candidate (don't take these too seriously -- like you, I don't obsess over these things!):

1. 3.90 career ERA (okay, the first one's yours)
2. 105 career ERA+ (100 is average! Not average Hall of Famer. Average! Jamie Moyer's career ERA+ is 105.)
3. Never finished in the top 4 in ERA in his league. (So undominant!)
4. Never ever ever had an ERA under 3.
5. Zero seasons with a WHIP below 1.16 (an arbitrary cutoff point; Blyleven had nine such seasons)
6. 3.80 postseason ERA (not exciting anyone)
7. 4.87 LCS ERA (6 games, who cares, but if you're going to give him credit for his World Series performance...)

You get the picture.

Moving along...

10. Blyleven. Stat gurus love this guy, and it's understandable. One of the great compilers of his generation, he's fifth all-time in strikeouts, ninth in shutouts and 25th in wins. There's no doubt he was a superb talent who played a long time. But he was rarely among the ultra-elite in his 22-year career.

That's right. Jon Heyman thinks Bert Blyleven is 10th most worthy of the guys on the Hall of Fame ballot this year. And there's "compiler" again. This guy didn't play baseball! All he did was compile! What a jerkbutt. Not voting for this ass-toucan.

Really, though, fifth all-time in strikeouts. Wow. Out of the top 17 guys, I bet all of them except Bert and maybe Curt Schillseph make the Hall. And Bert outpitched the strikeout leader, one Mr. Nolan R., to the tune of seven points of ERA+.

There's more in this article -- Dawson, Rice, Parker, Concepcion (!). Maybe KT will read it and go berzerk later.

Labels: bert blyleven, compiler, hall of fame, jack morris, jon heyman

I'm late to this party -- Deadspin already picked it up -- but I can't resist. FJM Legend Woody Paige wrote an article about his HOF vote. This should give you doubters out there a lot of confidence in the sanctity of the HOF voting system.

I'm sitting here, looking out the window and pondering the snow, the sun, the creek, the peak and the Baseball Hall of Fame ballot. [...]

Do I vote for suspected steroid users, particularly a couple included in the Mitchell report on Thursday, or do I automatically dismiss their candidacy?

Up to you. There is a "character" clause in the HOF voting rules, but hell, Ty Cobb is in, so go nuts.

Do I vote for guys I personally like, or is that not being objective?

...That's the definition of "not being objective," dummy. Vote for them if they're good enough. This is not the Woody Paige Memorial Day Bar-B-Q Jamboree Invite List.

Do I vote for a creep or a man who committed suicide? Do I check 10 players, the maximum allowed, or keep it to one or two? Do I go with pitcher Tommy John because they named a surgical procedure after him?

These are pretty much up to you, but off the top of my head: (a) if he is good enough to get in, (b) up to you, (c) no.

Here are my thoughts about the votes, although you can influence my final decision:

Gossage — During a visit to Yankee Stadium in the late 1970s, I wanted to talk to Goose but was told he was cruel and gruff to reporters. I sheepishly introduced myself and said I was from Colorado, his home state, and he talked pleasantly for 30 minutes. We've been good friends since. I would vote for him even if he wasn't deserving. [...]

Whoops! You're not supposed to say things like that, Woody. It kind of means you're a terrible journalist.

Let's just look at those voting guidelines one more time:

Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played.

Let's see...just going to scan it one more time...nope. Don't see anything about talking pleasantly with people, or journalist-player home state connection.

Knoblauch, McGwire and Justice — I won't vote for them because of the swirl of steroid and human growth hormone accusations, and I also won't vote for them because I don't think they're worthy. Justice had a career batting average of .279 (with 305 home runs and 1,017 RBIs). His teams did win two World Series, but I don't feel it.

Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played, and whether Woody Paige "feels it." (Emphasis mine.)

Knoblauch was a very good second baseman, but this is not the Hall of Very Good.

What a classic fucking strawman. "You seem like a nice guy. I hate nice guys!!!!"

McGwire had 583 homers but a career .263 average.

Reggie Jackson had 563 homers but a career .262 average. There are a lot of arguments against Mac in the HOF. This is not one of them.

The drug suspicions, and his appearance at a Washington hearing examining drug use, haunt him.

This is sort of one of them. But the last one was so dumb I can't even give you partial credit.

(Dale) Murphy — Got my vote, but he won't get in. He was two short of 400 home runs and hit only .265, but he won back-to-back MVP awards, made seven all-star teams and earned five Gold Gloves.

Baseball arguments.

He played 26 games for the Rockies in their first season, 1993, before retiring. I vote for Rockies. He was who a ballplayer should be. And he always remembers my name. I'm a sap.

NON-BASEBALL ARGUMENTS.

Holy shit, are those bad arguments. Those aren't even arguments. Those aren't anything. That's not even English. That is a collection of glyphs scrawled on a cave in Lascaux. You will vote for Murphy because he was a Rockie? And he always remembers your name? Are you kidding me?

If this were politics, and you were a congressman, and you were talking about why you would or would not vote on a certain bill, and you were this frank in admitting your (a) lack of qualifications and (b) absurdly low ethical standards, not to mention (c) how easily you can be bought, you might be impeached. I know baseball is just a game, but jeez, man. Have a little self-respect.

Andre Dawson and Tim Raines — I'm voting for them. Both are borderline. But I was amazed by, and wrote columns about, Dawson and Raines when they played for the Denver Bears. Dawson passed through in 1976 on his way to the Montreal Expos, and Raines was the 1980 minor-league player of the year as the Bears' second baseman. (Raines did have a cocaine addiction problem but overcame it.)

Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played, and whether Woody Paige "feels it." Also, you can chuck the "character" thing out the window if the payer in question ever played for a fucking minor league team in Denver, because somehow that makes up for it. In fact, if the dude ever played in or near the Denver-metro area, at any level, just stamp a big ol' "yes" on the form and go about your business. (Emphasis mine.)

Jim Rice — He has been shut out for 13 years, mainly because he primarily was a DH. That doesn't bother me, but his overall numbers are just shy. Yet, he was an MVP, in the top five in the MVP five other times and made eight all-star teams in 16 seasons. Why not? I'll check his name.

Well, his playing career doesn't really warrant it. But on the other hand, his playing career kinda warrants it. So, okay.

Again, I know these aren't exactly world-changing policy decisions, but Jiminy Christmas, friend. Spend a little time. Do some analysis. Think it over. I mean, did you even research whether Jim Rice has ever visited Denver? Or whether he was ever polite to you?

Don Mattingly — Another former player, now a coach, who I became friends with, so I'm prejudiced.

I am getting to like the flatness with which he describes his own corruption.

I like voting for friends, especially when they hit .307 lifetime, won an MVP, made six consecutive all-star teams and won a Gold Glove nine times in 14 seasons. Class act.

Voting shall be based upon the player's record, playing ability, integrity, sportsmanship, character and contributions to the team(s) on which the player played, and whether Woody Paige "feels it." Also, you can chuck the "character" thing out the window if the payer in question ever played for a fucking minor league team in Denver, because somehow that makes up for it. In fact, if the dude ever played in or near the Denver-metro area, at any level, just stamp a big ol' "yes" on the form and go about your business. Oh -- also, if Woody Paige is friends with him, and if Paige at anytime describes him as a "class act," then pretty much go ahead and let him in. (Emphasis mine.)

Bert Blyleven (287-250) and Tommy John (288-231) — Also on my list. I will give a vote as a salute to Dave Concepcion, in his final year on the ballot.

A vote for Davey C. Yet another thing you and Joe Morgan have in common.

My nine. Your turn.

Well, I have met and spoken with the following baseball players in my lifetime:

Wade Boggs
Kevin Youkilis
Bill Mueller
Derek Jeter
Tino Martinez
Jorge Posada
David Wells
David Cone
Johnny Damon
Kevin Millar
Bronson Arroyo
Jeff Weaver

So, I'll be voting for them. Also, I will vote for anyone who has ever visited, mentioned, or some within 100 miles of Partridge, KS. And finally, I will vote for anyone who has a name that is similar to, or an anagram of, my name. Because that is what I have learned from you, Woody. Vote crazy!

Labels: hall of fame, mark mcgwire, steroids, woody paige