Quick Update

Hello all. Sorry to have been gone for a while, but I just spent a week in Switzerland on business (I know, rough duty), and really didn't have much time to post. I've got a new post in the hopper and should have it up on the site in the next day or two. Until then, thanks for your patience.


In the meantime, as a season-ticket holder, I feel compelled to drop a quick note about the Kansas City Royals. After today's win in Milwaukee the Royals are now 19-20 in their last 39 games. That's just about a quarter of a full season. And it's not some fluke. Their run differential tracks to that record almost exactly; 193 scored, 197 allowed. Extrapolate that out for the remainder of the season, and even with their terrible start the Royals project to win 72 games, which is pretty much where I figured they would be when the year started. A very nice step forward.

Speaking of steps forward, Alex Gordon is hitting .294/.356/.463/.819 in this stretch. That's not spectacular, but it's certainly solid, and shows what might have been in the Rookie of the Year voting if he'd been able to get off to a decent start.

Of Scorekeeping and Controversy

Embedded in an announcement about who will be the umpires for the upcoming All-Star Game in San Francisco was another little tidbit. It seems that two of the three official scorers for this year's game will be members of the BBWAA - Paul Hoynes, president of the BBWAA, and Andrew Baggarly, chairman of the Oakland-San Francisco chapter of the BBWAA.

Does this strike anyone else as a conflict of interest? For some reason, Hall of Fame voters love to note how many All-Star games someone appeared in, blissfully ignoring the fact that All-Star selections are part popularity contest and part mandated beauty pageant where every team has to be represented. As part of this, All-Star game performances are regularly mentioned as part of a player's case for the Hall of Fame, yet here we have the same people who vote on the Hall making determinations about what a player did during one of the key pieces of their Hall of Fame case.

Picture this scenario. Runner on third, two outs, tie game. A player hits a sharp ground ball to the shortstop and it takes a harsh bounce, hitting the shortstop in the glove before bouncing into shallow left field. Runner scores, League X wins the All-Star game, and official scorers decide whether or not the hitter should be glorified with the game-winning hit or the shortstop vilified for the game-losing error.

Now that the All-Star game determines home field advantage in the World Series, such a play can have even more wide-ranging impact. What if the shortstop's team turns out to be champs of their league, but now has to play four of the seven World Series games on the road because their player made that All-Star game error. Suddenly he looks like an even bigger goat, a Johnny Pesky Held The Ball goat, and he's got a black mark on his career resume for all time. That kind of mark almost certainly will be mentioned by BBWAA members when they explain, years later, why they did or did not vote for the shortstop when he appeared on the Hall of Fame ballot.

Maybe it won't matter. Maybe the shortstop will be one of those throw-ins on the ballot that feels honored just to be listed. But maybe not. Maybe he'll be someone with a real case to be considered for election, who suddenly looks much more like a borderline case because that error will keep getting mentioned, often by people who didn't actually see the play and remember that it could have easily been called a hit.

Same goes for the hitter. Give him a hit, a game-winning hard smash to win the All-Star game and possibly give his own team home field advantage in the World Series, and suddenly he's got a nice little chit come Hall balloting time. If this hitter is remembered as having won the All-Star game, that might tip the balance in his favor for some voters, and an otherwise questionable guy is suddenly an all-time immortal.

This scenario is not some fantasy; it's a genuine possibility. It may be a remote possibility, but it could easily happen, in which case I can't help but wonder why anyone would set up such a possible conflict of interest in the first place.

Rock Over Brock - Elect Tim Raines to the Hall of Fame

I am happy today. I'm happy because it's a beautiful day, my wife and kids are healthy, we live very comfortable, active, interesting lives, and have loving friends and family. There are a lot of other reasons, but those are the big ones.

Those, plus Jeff Pearlman's article on ESPN.com. That gorgeous thing (the article, not Jeff Pearlman) moved my happy meter more than anything I've read in a long, long time.

The thrust of Pearlman's article is that Tim Raines, while more than qualified for the Hall of Fame when he comes up for election for the first time next year, is likely to be passed over due to the arbitrary nature of the BBWAA's voting process. Sound familiar? With the exception of his kind comments about Lou Brock, I don't think there's a word of Pearlman's article that I disagree with, so I'd like to take this opportunity to welcome him into the clan of believers in the BBWAA's incompetence.

I won't elaborate much further on the article here, because Pearlman did such a good job that I'd rather you read it yourself, but I will add a few points about Raines that need to be stressed. I will begrudgingly use the Lou Brock comparison Pearlman makes, mostly because it paints the BBWAA into a corner since they elected Brock on his first appearance on the ballot. In truth, Brock was vastly overrated, and I'd much rather show that Raines compares well to some of the more elite left fielders in the Hall. But Pearlman has already laid the foundation, and since the voters will almost certainly slot Raines in with Brock for comparison anyway, it makes sense to walk in their shoes in this case.

Looking at these guys side-by-side, as Pearlman does, sure makes Raines look like a viable candidate. Looking at them a bit more closely, we find that Raines was actually significantly better than Brock. For example, with both men being leadoff hitters, their primary job was to reach base. Do you know how many times each did, by hit or walk?

Brock - 3784
Raines - 3935

Despite totaling about 400 fewer hits, Raines more than makes up for it by walking nearly twice as often as Brock, allowing him to hold a substantial lead in times reaching base. We knew this from the variance in their on-base percentages, .385 for Raines .343 for Brock.

In reality, the gap between them is even larger. When their career stats are neutralized, it allows us to account not just for ballparks and run-scoring environments, but also for Raines' lost time from the strike-shortened seasons. Extrapolating out the 1981, 1994 and 1995 seasons allows us to see that the two careers project to essentially the same number of games - 2607 for Raines, 2621 for Brock. And once that is done, it reveals that Raines was even better than his unadjusted stats indicate. Here's their adjusted totals for times on base:

Brock - 3841
Raines - 4186

Suddenly the gap between them, which already favored Raines, grows from 4% to 9%. Here's what happens to their on-base percentages:

Brock - .354
Raines - .406

A 12% margin in favor of Raines is now 15%. The same goes for slugging percentage, which was a 4% margin in favor of Raines:

Brock - .455
Raines - .484

Now it's a 6% gap. And remember, these are neutralized numbers. These gaps have nothing to do with Brock playing in the famously run-depressed 1960s and therefore having a disadvantage. In truth, that wouldn't matter much anyway because while Brock's leagues generally scored about 4% fewer funs than Raines' in their respective primes, Raines played in ballparks that produced about 3% less scoring than Brock's, making it a near wash.

No, Raines was just a better hitter, and as Pearlman correctly pointed out, he was a better base stealer too, with only a reduced number of attempts caused by the changing nature of the game keeping him from passing Brock's career total. At the success rate he established for his career, had Raines attempted as many steals as Brock he would have totaled 1065 steals, roughly 14% more than the record-setting number Brock amassed.

On top of that, Raines played vastly better defense. While Brock played one of the worst defensive left fields in memory (96 Rate, -72 FRAA), Raines was an above average defender (102 Rate, 39 FRAA), who had a string of years in the 1980s where it would have been fair to consider him for a left field Gold Glove (if such a thing existed beyond Carl Yastrzemski and Barry Bonds).

All of this adds up to a massive difference between the respective WARP3 scores of the two men:

Brock - 87.4
Raines - 132.3

It would be fair, given the rules for voting, to downgrade Raines for his cocaine history, particularly the lurid tale of him carrying his crack vile in his pocket during games. But if the BBWAA collectively feels that Lou Brock was a first-ballot Hall of Famer, then they should ultimately elect Raines as well, because his long-resolved personal problems can't erase the enormous difference between his production and that of a man already considered an immortal.

Baseball's Archaic Access Rules

I came across a really fine column by Tim Marchman in today's New York Sun. The general point Marchman makes is that Major League Baseball is going to have to take action, and soon, to revamp their rules for providing press credentials and access to reporters from online publications. This issue is an adjunct to the BBWAA's archaic rule about allowing non-print journalists to join their fine organization.

It seems both organizations need a lesson in why they exist in the first place.

As far as the BBWAA goes, that group needs to recognize that they don't really exist to vote on awards or have some special cachet that allows them to appear on radio talk shows and "The Sports Reporters" . They exist to make sure that the people who write about baseball are qualified to do so. Sure, it may have started as a labor organization, but I don't really hear a lot of sob stories about what terrible working conditions baseball writers suffer under. (In fact, one of the primary reasons they sought to organize was to force the club owners to build press boxes and grant access to clubhouses, the very things now denied to online writers. My, how quickly memories fade.) Nowadays, the BBWAA should represent the best in baseball writing, but instead they have chosen to foster chronyism in an effort to protect their precious voting rights and front row press box seats. (Check out Joe Posnanski's incredible story on that one. Scroll down to the Tom Glavine entry.) That's yet another abuse of the power they've been granted. To claim that they, and only they, can provide good, insightful writing about the sport we all love, to the exclusion of anyone who isn't paid by a print publication, is the height of arrogance.

(Note: In case you're wondering, I have no desire to join the BBWAA. I would very much like to vote for the various awards and the Hall of Fame, because I honestly think I'm more qualified to do so than most of these guys are. But I don't particularly care to be a full-time baseball writer because, frankly, I make more money than about 95% of those guys, and I really don't want to take a pay cut.)

In the case of MLB, it seems obvious that they're in the business of making money. Anyone suffering under the delusion that they powers who control the sport are in it for the thrill of competition or the love of the game probably needs to seek professional help. The owners, both individually and as a collective entity, are all about cold, hard cash. The more they make, the happier they are. If they happen to actually win baseball games in the bargain, well that's just gravy.

For this group of otherwise savvy businessmen to be shortsighted about online publications is one of the dumber business decisions you'll see them make. They know firsthand the power of online access to their product. They created this Winter's crisis over the MLB Extra Innings package in part to drive up subscriptions to their online service for watching ballgames, MLB.tv. Revenue from ticket sales has been greatly enhanced by online sales, and the memorabilia sold by each club has much greater reach now that they all have online stores for their goods. More All-Star ballots are cast now that voting can be done online, with the final slot on each team being determined entirely by an online vote. Marketing revenues from MLB.com have brought millions of dollars to each club. Take a look at the MLB.com homepage. This morning's ever-shifting version included the following:

• One-click access to the All-Star ballots
• A summary of the recent 2007 Draft
• Links to watch or listen to every game scheduled, or follow it through MLB's proprietary Gameday software
• Advertisements for team-branded travel mugs and All-Star game t-shirts
• A link to MLB's online auction center, where they partner with a variety of memorabilia companies
• A link to their online ticketing center
• A link to their MLB Mobile service that allows users to access MLB.com content, including scores, video highlights, and alerts through their mobile phone or PDA.

Move to any of those pages and you'll find a good portion of the space dedicated to advertising. The one I chose had a full side banner advertising Bacardi, on the right-hand side, and a smaller ad for DHL on the left. Other pages show the All-Star ballot, sponsored by Monster.

Clearly, these guys understand that the Internet is a gold mine of new revenue streams if it's exploited correctly. They know the power of blogs. Hell, they tried to start their own blogging center, with mixed results, so they must know that people are looking for online content that's not limited to their daily newspaper or the bigger online outlets like ESPN. And yet, in the case of online writers, MLB just doesn't seem to get it. This subject, like their archane blackout rules, seems to fall into MLB's blindspot. No matter how obvious it is to most of the world, it seems that the owners, in instances like this, just don't grasp the lost opportunity.

Why not partner with reputable bloggers and online baseball sites? Set a few standards around minimum site traffic, vulgar content, copyright concerns, etc., and give these guys the access they deserve. Take a site like The Hardball Times, run by people who are clearly smart and clearly love baseball, people smart enough about business that they've attracted advertisers and sell their own branded merchandise, and give them a standing press pass. Make them part of the empire, so to speak, another outlet to reach customers.

That's what it's all about, after all; Bringing baseball to the people who want it. Why make that task harder than it should be?

Injustice: How the BBWAA Screwed Alan Trammell

“Injustice - An act that inflicts undeserved hurt. Any act that involves unfairness to another or violation of one's rights”.

- Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary

The full definition of injustice mentions rights, and laws, and issues far more weighty than baseball, and rightly so. It’s a heavy word, not one to be wantonly thrown around in a world where it can be applied far too frequently. If you can find a synonym for “injustice lite”, I’m all ears.

Lacking that, there really isn’t any other word that applies to how Alan Trammell has been treated by the Baseball Writers Association of America. Unless, of course, you go vulgar and say he’s been screwed. That works for me.

What makes Trammell’s case particularly troubling is that the BBWAA has inflicted a double whammy on him. He is currently eligible for election into the Hall of Fame, but has burned through six years of eligibility without cracking 100 votes in any election, or collecting even 20% of the votes cast. For a variety of generally unknown but surely moronic reasons, the BBWAA doesn’t seem to think that Alan Trammell belongs in the Hall of Fame. One of those, sadly and ironically, involves the double whammy I mentioned. Specifically, Trammell’s lack of an MVP award on his resume is seen as a negative, despite the fact that he very much deserved one and it was yet another BBWAA foul-up that denied it to him.

Let’s deal with the MVP issue first. Here are the top-10 vote-getters for the 1987 American League MVP, along with their WARP3 Scores for that season and their team’s win total:

George Bell - 9.2; 96
Alan Trammell - 13.2; 98
Kirby Puckett - 7.6; 85
Dwight Evans - 7.8; 78
Paul Molitor - 8.3; 91
Mark McGwire - 9.0; 81
Don Mattingly - 9.1; 89
Tony Fernandez - 10.1; 98
Wade Boggs - 13.1; 78
Gary Gaetti - 5.0; 85

What’s that old Sesame Street song? “One of these things is not like the others, one of these things does not belong…” You can say that again, Big Bird.

It doesn’t take a brain surgeon, or someone who cares all that much about the so-called “modern” baseball statistics that have become popular, to recognize that Alan Trammell was the best player in the American League in 1987. Forget WARP for a minute and note simply that Bell and Trammell had nearly identical OPS marks (.957 for Bell, .953 for Trammell), meaning they had essentially the same value as hitters even before you consider Trammell’s obvious plusses, like the fact that he posted his offensive numbers in a Tiger Stadium that suppressed scoring by 4% that year while Bell played in an Exhibition Stadium that increased scoring by 2%, meaning that their respective OPS+ marks clearly favor Trammell (155 to 146). Using the most basic formula around for Runs Created, Trammell scores higher than Bell, 133 to 129. What this means is that a team comprised of all Alan Trammell’s could expect to score 8.7 runs per game in 1987, while a team of all George Bell’s would score 7.8, nearly a full run less. And then there’s the little fact that Trammell was, you know, a shortstop, and a pretty good one (106 Rate, 8 FRAA) while George Bell was just an average left fielder (101 Rate, 1 FRAA).

Or how about the fact that Trammell was infinitely better than Bell in September and October as their two teams battled each other to the last day of the season for the division title? Bell was no slouch in those final weeks of the season (.308/.379/.530/.909), but those marks were distinctly lower than his performance for the rest of the year, and they paled in comparison to Trammell (.417/.490/.677/1.167). Read that last stat line again. Alan Trammell, a shortstop, batted .417 and slugged .677 from September 1st through the end of the season in 1987. That stretch included seven games head-to-head against Bell’s Blue Jays, games in which Trammell also hit .417, while slugging .667. Not surprisingly, the Tigers won four of those seven games, including 3-game sweep on the season’s final weekend, to win the division by two games. For the year, Trammell hit .340/ .446/ .723/ 1.169 against Toronto, while Bell hit just .294/ .379/ .431/ .810 against Detroit. Every single so-called “clutch” stat went on favor of Trammell:

2 outs, runners in scoring position: Trammell - .937 OPS; Bell - .832 OPS
Late & Close situations: Trammell – 1.087 OPS; Bell - .951 OPS
Game Tied: Trammell – 1.012 OPS; Bell - .894 OPS

I’ll stop there before I get into severe overkill range. By now it should be obvious to anyone who follows baseball that Alan Trammell out-classed George Bell by a long, long way in 1987. The only player in the league who came close to Trammell’s performance was Wade Boggs, and he played for a team with a losing record, one that finished 20 games behind Trammell’s Tigers.

And yet, thought the voting was close, Trammell was denied the MVP. Only a voting body as screwed up as the BBWAA could fail to give the MVP to the league’s best player when he also happened to play on the league’s best team.

Okay, that’s bad. It’s unfair, or unjust, if you will. Trammell deserved better, and most people who study the game will gladly tell you so. But the BBWAA didn’t stop there. No, they decided to compound their mistake by holding it against Trammell now that he’s eligible for the Hall of Fame. Think for a second; how many players have won the MVP as a shortstop? Damn few. In fact, here’s the entire list:

2003 - Alex Rodriguez
2002 - Miguel Tejada
1995 - Barry Larkin
1991 - Cal Ripken (HOF)
1983 - Cal Ripken (HOF)
1982 - Robin Yount (HOF)
1965 - Zoilo Versalles
1962 - Maury Wills
1960 - Dick Groat
1959 - Ernie Banks (HOF)
1958 - Ernie Banks (HOF)
1950 - Phil Rizzuto (HOF)
1948 - Lou Boudreau (HOF)
1944 - Marty Marion
1925 - Roger Peckinpaugh

That’s it. Just fifteen awards to thirteen players in the history of the award. Of those thirteen, five are already in the Hall of Fame, one certainly will be (ARod), two others will have great cases once they’re eligible (Tejada and Larkin), and two have been proposed as serious candidates for decades (Wills and Marion). Only three shortstops have won an MVP and really don’t have any case for being in Cooperstown, and those three, frankly, either had the fluke year to end all fluke years (Versalles), or just plain didn’t deserve their awards (Groat, who didn’t even have the best WARP3 score on the Pirates, and Peckinpaugh, whose 4.1 WARP3 score was 11th on the 1925 Washington Senators. You may want to read that again.)

In short, a shortstop who wins the MVP has a 50/50 or better chance of being elected to the Hall of Fame, and an even greater chance, something like 80% of receiving considerable support for election. Consider Marty Marion next to Trammell, for instance:

Games – Trammell, 2293; Marion, 1572
At-Bats – Trammell, 8288; Marion, 5506
Runs – Trammell, 1273; Marion, 602
Hits – Trammell, 2365; Marion, 1448
Doubles – Trammell, 412; Marion, 272
Triples – Trammell, 55; Marion, 37
Home Runs – Trammell, 185; Marion, 36
RBI – Trammell, 1003; Marion, 624
Steals – Trammell, 236; Marion, 35
Walks – Trammell, 850; Marion, 470
Batting Average – Trammell, .285; Marion, .263
On-Base Percentage – Trammell, .352; Marion, .323
Slugging Percentage – Trammell, .415; Marion, .345
OPS+ - Trammell, 110; Marion, 81

While it’s fair to note that Marion was an outstanding defender, much better than Trammell, who was good himself, the gap in their offensive abilities and longevity is just too enormous. (And no, Marion doesn’t get any missing wars years as credit. He played throughout all of the WWII years, with his MVP coming in one of them, 1944.) Trammell obviously had the better career. And yet…

Highest HOF Percentage – Marion, 40%; Trammell, 18%

All together now…huh? Are you beginning to sense my frustration? Just wait, I’m not done yet. Check out Trammell against Maury Wills:

Games – Trammell, 2293; Wills, 1942
At-Bats – Trammell, 8288; Wills, 7588
Runs – Trammell, 1273; Wills, 1067
Hits – Trammell, 2365; Wills, 2134
Doubles – Trammell, 412; Wills, 177
Triples – Trammell, 55; Wills, 71
Home Runs – Trammell, 185; Wills, 20
RBI – Trammell, 1003; Wills, 458
Steals – Trammell, 236; Wills, 586
Walks – Trammell, 850; Wills, 552
Batting Average – Trammell, .285; Wills, .281
On-Base Percentage – Trammell, .352; Wills, .330
Slugging Percentage – Trammell, .415; Wills, .331
OPS+ - Trammell, 110; Wills, 88

A few differences, like the fact that Wills was a much better baserunner/stolen base guru than either Trammell or Marion. Plus Wills played in Dodger Stadium in the 1960s, one of the more inhospitable places for a hitter in all of baseball. Still, he had no power, didn’t draw walks, didn’t play terribly long and was a really mediocre defensive shortstop most years (101 Rate, 15 FRAA). So, once the differences are taken as a whole, it’s still really clear that Trammell had the better career. Clear to everyone but the BBWAA that is…

Highest HOF Percentage – Wills, 41%; Trammell, 18%

I’m beginning to see a pattern. Apparently that MVP award carried a lot more weight than it should, to the point of providing significant boosts to the Hall of Fame vote totals of most of the shortstops who received one. Hell, the BBWAA went so far as to list both Marion (68.8 career WARP3) and Wills (81.6) on the Veterans’ Committee ballot, apparently under the delusion that each is one of the top-25 veteran players not currently in the Hall of Fame. They were deemed more worthy than Bill Dahlen (135.1) and Jack Glasscock (107.2) and Stan Hack (104.1) and Dick Bartell (103.7) and Rusty Staub (101.9) and Bert Campaneris (98.6) and Bob Johnson (98.1) and Lave Cross (97.9) and Bob Elliott (97.1) and Billy Pierce (93.7) and Jimmy Wynn (92.7) and Jimmy Ryan (92.1) and Heinie Groh (91.8) and Ken Singleton (90.2) and Norm Cash (89.7) and Reggie Smith (89.5) and Willie Davis (89.3) and Sherry Magee (87.1) and Jake Daubert (81.6) and Buddy Myer (81.6) and Sal Bando (81.1). I’m sure there are others I’m missing, but hey, why should I knock myself out researching guys who the BBWAA has clearly forgotten?

While guys like Marion and Wills apparently enjoy vastly better reputations than they deserve, Trammell is getting little HOF support despite the fact that he more than measures up to the Hall’s and BBWAA’s standards for shortstops. This isn’t some borderline case of a guy who might be a touch better than the two or three worst guys in the Hall of Fame. Trammell could actually raise the standard in some regards. At worst, he’s an average Hall of Fame shortstop. Once all of the numbers are neutralized to account for different run-scoring eras and home ballparks, here are the average career offensive numbers for a Hall of Fame shortstop, along with Alan Trammell’s:

Games – HOF, 2338; Trammell, 2385
At-Bats – HOF, 8809; Trammell, 8769
Runs – HOF, 1349; Trammell, 1395
Hits – HOF, 2543; Trammell, 2595
Doubles – HOF, 428; Trammell, 453
Triples – HOF, 116; Trammell, 57
Home Runs – HOF, 120; Trammell, 199
RBI – HOF, 1160; Trammell, 1130
Walks – HOF, 891; Trammell, 939
Steals – HOF, 291; Trammell, 255
Batting Average – HOF, .289; Trammell, .296
On-Base Percentage – HOF, .358; Trammell, .364
Slugging Percentage – HOF, .403; Trammell, .429

Don’t look now, but it would appear that Alan Trammell’s career would be a very fine fit among Hall of Fame shortstops. Not that the BBWAA cares. To them, he’s apparently missing that one extra thing, the thing that would make him stand out.

That thing they screwed him out of in 1987.

The 1979 AL MVP Award

Let’s play a little game. Let’s see, just by looking at a few numbers, if you can pick the player that received the most MVP votes in the election for the 1979 American League Most Valuable Player. This should be fun.

Johnny, who are our first two contestants?

Player 1 is a second baseman, and a good one at that. He was a multi-time Gold Glove winner, and though he didn’t win it in 1979, he still posted a Rate mark of 108, including 11 Fielding Runs Above Average. He had a .984 fielding percentage in a league that averaged .978 for its second basemen, and had a range factor of 5.08 compared to the league average of 4.80. Pretty good defender. On top of that, Player 1 was a pretty good stick, too. His batting numbers were .294/.365/.537/.902, including 30 homers and 101 RBI. He appeared in his fifth All-Star game and did all of this for an 88-win team. Not a bad candidate at all.

Player 2 is an outfielder/designated hitter, a teammate of Player 1. He combined for 97 games in the corner outfield positions, and wasn’t good at either of them (98 Rate, -1 FRAA as a left fielder, 95 Rate, -1 FRAA as a right fielder). Though he didn’t really contribute much of anything defensively, he did have a solid offensive year, posting a .296/.371/.530/.901 stat line, with 36 homers and a league-leading 139 RBI. He appeared in his first (and only) All-Star game, and, of course, did this for an 88-win team, just like Player 1.

Since I’m sure the only kind of people who read my stuff are basically dishonest, you probably cheated and uncovered the fact that Player 1 (Bobby Grich) was soundly outvoted by his teammate, Player 2 (Don Baylor). To be exact, the final vote tally was 347 points and 20 first-place for Baylor, and 58 points with zero first-place votes for Grich.

Seems kinda stupid, doesn’t it? Other than 38 extra RBI for Baylor, attributable almost exclusively to the fact that Baylor batted cleanup in literally every game the Angels played while Grich batted 6th or lower in 90% of his games that season, what exactly did he bring to the table that Grich did not?

In short, nothing.

Baylor was a poor defender when he played the field and he was also a mediocre hitter in the majority of his playing time. In the 65 games in which he DH’d, Baylor hit .349/.427/.663/1.090, but when he also had to play the field he hit just .261/.333/.441/.774, which wasn’t terribly different from the league average of .270/.334/.408/.742. Meanwhile, not only did Grich provide excellent defense at a key position, but he had essentially identical overall batting stats and was a better player in key situations. With runners on base, Grich hit .320/.397/.575/.972 compared to Baylor’s .302/.379/.527/.906. With runners in scoring position, Grich had an OPS of .995 compared to Baylor’s .981. Against the Royals, the team the Angels battled for the AL West title all year, Baylor hit just .196/.236/.490/.726, while Grich posted a line of .318/.412/.500/.912.

I’d throw in a bunch of more modern stats too, like WARP3 (8.0 for Baylor, 10.4 for Grich), that clearly show Grich was more valuable, but why bother? Those stats didn’t exist in 1979, and no BBWAA voters would have used them anyway. Each player’s RBI total was apparently all they were interested in. Pretty sad.

There were certainly other contenders for the MVP that year, including two guys on the team Baylor’s Angels battled for the AL West. George Brett had a ridiculously good year for the Royals, clearly superior to Baylor’s. In eight fewer games, Brett scored as many runs as Baylor (119 and 120 respectively), and though he hit 13 fewer homers (36 to 23), he had so many additional hits (212 to 186), doubles (42 to 33) and triples (20 to 3), that he easily out-slugged the much burlier Baylor (.563 to .530), while also posting a better batting average (.329 to .296) and on-base percentage (.376 to .371). His adjusted OPS was better (148 to 144), and he absolutely dominated in the stretch run from August 1st through the end of the season (.337/.368/.611/.979). He battered the Angels that season to the tune of .333/.365/.583/.948, and was an outstanding hitter with runners on base (.330/.392/.573/.965) and with runners in scoring position (.343/.424/.618/1.042). Plus, Brett did all of this while playing a really good third base (112 Rate, 17 FRAA). He finished third in the balloting, but if his team had won the division by three games, instead of the other way around, you have to wonder if even the BBWAA could have seen their way to giving him the MVP that he clearly deserved more than Baylor.

If not, maybe they would have awarded Brett’s teammate, Darrell Porter. While playing outstanding defense at catcher that year (111 Rate, 16 FRAA), Porter had the best offensive year of his life. He hit .291/.421/.484/.905, good for an OPS+ of 142. He led the league in walks with 121 and reached base more than any other player in the league, while driving in 112 runs and scoring 101. He was an absolute iron man behind the plate, catching 141 games, while murdering California Angels pitching (.362/.492/.532/1.024). For all that, the writers only put him 9th in the final MVP voting, almost tied with Buddy Bell (52 points or Porter, 48 for Bell). Hmmm, a .905 OPS while playing catcher for a division near-winner, or a .778 OPS while playing third base for the team that finished third. Sounds pretty equal to most voters, I guess.

Forgetting every other position on the field, and forgetting the other players on his own team for a moment, let’s make it clear that Baylor wasn’t even the most valuable outfielder/DH in the league. Any number of outfielders had better seasons for teams that were just as good or better than California.

How about Steve Kemp? He hit .318/.398/.543/.941 for an 85-win Tigers team, and posted almost the same WARP3 score (7.6) as Baylor despite missing 30 games due to injury. He tied for 17th in the MVP voting.

Chet Lemon had a great case, too. All he did was hit .318/.391/.496/.887, good for an OPS+ mark of 139, very close to Baylor’s mark of 144. And he did this while playing a solid center field. Unfortunately, since Lemon played for a bad White Sox team, he didn’t receive a single MVP vote, not even a tenth-place nod.

What about Sixto Lezcano? He hit .321/.414/.573/.987 for a 95-win Milwaukee team and won a Gold Glove to boot. His WARP3 score of 7.9 was also nearly identical to Baylor’s 8.0 mark despite playing only 138 games. He finished 15th in the MVP voting. Lezcano’s teammate, Gorman Thomas, had a better case than Baylor, too. All he did was lead the league in homers while posting an OPS of .895.

And how could we forget Reggie Jackson? His Yankee team won one more game than Baylor’s Angels, and Reggie put up his usual line (.297/.382/.544/.926). His WARP3 score was the same as Kemp’s and he also missed about 30 games due to injury. Despite being perhaps the most famous player in the game at the time, he finished tied for 24th in the MVP voting.

Jim Rice has a much better claim on the 1979 MVP than Baylor also. He was better than Baylor in, well, everything. His team won more games (91 to 88). He scored nearly as many runs (117 to Baylor’s 120) despite playing fewer games. He had more hits (201 to 186), more doubles (39 to 33), more triples (6 to 3), and more home runs (39 to 36). He drove in nearly as many runs (130 to Baylor’s 139) while stealing bases at a better rate (69% to 64%), hitting for a better average (.325 to .296), getting on base more (.381 to .371) and slugging more (.596 to .530). His OPS+ which takes home ballpark factors into account, was also better (154 to 144). He played far more games in the field and posted a better fielding percentage (.984 to .976). His WARP3 score came out a touch better (8.1 to 8.0). His numbers (.336/.387/.645/1.032) during the pennant stretch of August through the end of the season dwarfed Baylor’s (.292/.361/.495/.856), and he hit much better than Baylor with runners on base (.340/.388/.610/.998 to Baylor’s .302/.379/.527/.906). Despite all of this, Rice finished just fifth in the MVP voting, and didn’t receive a single first-place vote.

Part of the reason for Rice’s poor showing was that, despite being considerably better than Don Baylor, he was still not as good as a pair of other outfielders in the American League that season. Ken Singleton got three first place votes and finished as the runner-up to Baylor in the voting, but he clearly had the better season. While slugging at almost exactly the same rate (Singleton - .533; Baylor - .530), Singleton managed to get on base at a significantly better pace (.405 OBP to Baylor’s .371), and did this despite playing in a slightly less friendly ballpark for hitters. His adjusted OPS was 156 to Baylor’s 144, and while he was a poor defender in right field, he did, at least, play the field much more than Baylor did (143 outfield games to 97 for Baylor). Singleton’s WARP3 score of 9.1 pretty much blows the doors off Baylor’s 8.0 mark, and he did all of this for the best team in the league, a Baltimore club that won 14 games more than Baylor’s Angels.

But I guess Singleton’s “measly” 111 RBI just couldn’t stack up to Baylor’s whopping total. I guess it simply didn’t matter that Singleton was hitting behind significantly worse on-base men (Al Bumbry, Mark Belanger, Rich Dauer) than was Baylor (Rod Carew, Dan Ford, Rick Miller, Carney Lansford), and therefore had 25% fewer plate appearances with runners on base (311) than Baylor did (388). If you take Singleton’s RBI total (111) divided by his plate appearances with runners on base (311), you get an RBI rate of .357, which, if you then apply it to the same number of plate appearances with runners on base that Baylor enjoyed (388), gets you a total of 139 RBIs. That, of course, would have given Singleton the identical RBI total the voters saw attributed to Don Baylor at the end of the season. But we wouldn’t want to do our homework before casting our MVP vote, would we? A good BBWAA member never allows himself to be distracted by the facts.

Still, Singleton’s case pales in comparison to the season put up by Fred Lynn. While playing Gold Glove-winning center field, Lynn also hit .333/.423/.637/1.060, good for an OPS+ mark of 176. That .333 average was good enough to win the batting title, and Lynn also led the league in on-base percentage, slugging percentage, OPS, adjusted OPS, and runs created, all while hitting 39 homers and driving in 122 runs for a team that won three games more than the Angels, an important consideration in a league with a completely balanced schedule. It was, in short, a virtuoso season, one that saw him rack up a WARP3 score of 10.9 and 34 Win Shares, the best total in the league. (Baylor, for comparison, had 29.)

Alas, Lynn’s team didn’t win a division title, and though his batting title was sexy, he was just fourth in RBI. The voters downgraded him accordingly, and he finished with just the 4th-best total in the MVP balloting. That would have been okay if the award had gone to someone truly deserving, like Brett or Porter or Grich or Singleton, but it didn’t. It went to Don friggin’ Baylor, who leveraged the one season of his career in which he drove in 100 or more runs, his one All-Star season, into an MVP award he utterly didn’t deserve.

Way to go, BBWAA! I honor your rich tradition of screwing up baseball’s biggest awards.

The Santo Debacle

Hearken back to late February, if you will. The groundhog had failed to see his shadow a few weeks earlier, supposedly an omen that an early spring would find us this year. Pitchers and catchers had been in camp for 10 days or so. Manny Ramirez showed up early, sporting a few red dreadlocks and doing Manny things once more. There was labor peace, and the various clubs around baseball were fat with cash. Even the dregs of the sport looked upon the upcoming season with hope.

And yet, a dark day found its way into the lives of true baseball fans nonetheless.

The Veterans' Committee had spoken.

Ron Santo wouldn't be getting the call. Again.

I will not re-hash yet again the details of the Veterans Committee's idiotic balloting system. I've killed enough brain cells on that one, thank you very much. But I would like to spend a few moments today in debunking one foolish myth put forth by several BBWAA members after this year's VC voting results were announced.

That is, of course, the ridiculous notion that the Committee's failure to elect anyone, far from being an indictment of the system, was actually an affirmation of the quality of work the BBWAA has collectively put forth in past elections. Rather than try to explain their twisted logic, I will let one of the purveyors of this tale tell it in his own words:

"The purpose of the Veterans Committee is not to elect players but to correct oversights that might have been committed in the 15 years a player was under consideration for enshrinement by veteran members of the Baseball Writers' Association of America.

Instead of a slight to any former player, the Veterans Committee not electing any players would seem to mean the BBWAA voters did their job and elected those who belong.

Truly, who better to decide the merits of a player possibly overlooked for Hall of Fame induction than the men who played against him or with him and who are in the Hall of Fame?"

Those, ladies and gentlemen, are the words of Tracy Ringolsby, the man whose Hall of Fame voting practices I pilloried in my last post. He threw a few other nuggets into that column as well, including the claim that he respects any process that requires 75% of the voters to agree. Sadly, he omits to discuss whether or not his stance on that matter would change if the voters in question were clearly unqualified to vote in the first place.

Ringolsby was not the only BBWAA member to express this view. He was joined by

Hal Bodley, Mike Bauman and various other crotchety old farts who happily trumpeted the result as affirmation of their own worth and voting aptitude. They nearly soiled themselves in their various efforts to write the first BBWAA version of Sally Field’s infamous “You really like me!” speech.

All of this self-congratulation made me slightly ill, particularly since I didn’t find a single column by a BBWAA member that stated the obvious alternate conclusion, namely that the continued exclusion of Ron Santo from the Hall of Fame is proof positive that the BBWAA is a failure as a voting body.

I’ll get into Santo’s qualifications in a minute, but first let’s state the obvious. Once all non-voters are considered, people like historians, sabermetricians, the general public, etc., the overwhelming majority of baseball fans consider Ron Santo to be a Hall of Famer, yet he isn’t because two extremely small, non-representative groups don’t agree with that view and happen to be the parties who control admission. That simply has to be somewhat embarrassing for the sport, doesn’t it? When the sport’s most hallowed honor is denied to someone that the majority of fans and baseball researchers feel is qualified, it lessens the meaning of the award. Why bother having it if it isn’t awarded to the people who deserve it?

Without getting into all of the performance metrics that prove, to anyone with a rational brain in their head, that Santo is abundantly qualified for induction, let me instead make just a couple of comparisons that illustrate how foolishly inconsistent the BBWAA’s stance is in this case.

When Ron Santo first appeared on the ballot in 1980, here is how he ranked among all Hall-eligible third basemen in the history of the sport:

Games: 2nd
Hits: 5th
Home Runs: 2nd
RBI: 2nd
Runs: 7th
Extra-Base Hits: 2nd
OPS: 2nd
Runs Created: 2nd
Slugging: 2nd
Total Bases: 2nd
Walks: 4th

Now, combine that with his 5 Gold Gloves, and it’s really, really difficult to make a case for leaving Santo out of the Hall of Fame. But let’s say, just for a moment, that the BBWAA was correct in passing him over. Let’s say that the standards should be so high that someone who ranked in similar fashion to Santo at his position should be kept out of the Hall. In that case, I wish some BBWAA member would tell me why Jimmie Foxx was elected:

Foxx’s ranks at 1st base in 1980 (Santo’s first year on the ballot):
Games: 5th
Hits: 5th
Home Runs: 2nd
RBI: 2nd
Runs: 2nd
Extra-Base Hits: 2nd
OPS: 2nd
Runs Created: 3rd
Slugging: 2nd
Total Bases: 2nd
Walks: 3rd

Hmmm. Looks pretty much the same, doesn’t it? In other words, Ron Santo ranked among third baseman almost exactly the same as Jimmie Foxx ranked among Hall-eligible first basemen.

This is not an isolated case. For instance, here’s a second baseman with similar credentials:

Charlie Gehringer’s ranks at 2nd base in 1980 (Santo’s first year on the ballot):
Games: 4th
Hits: 5th
Home Runs: 5th
RBI: 3rd
Runs: 2nd
Extra-Base Hits: 2nd
OPS: 2nd
Runs Created: 4th
Slugging: 2nd
Total Bases: 4th
Walks: 2nd

If anything, Gehringer’s ranks among his peers were actually a touch worse than Santo’s. Then there’s a certain shortstop…

Joe Cronin’s ranks at shortstops in 1980 (Santo’s first year on the ballot):
Games: 10th
Hits: 8th
Home Runs: 2nd
RBI: 3rd
Runs: 11th
Extra-Base Hits: 2nd
OPS: 2nd
Runs Created: 5th
Slugging: 1st
Total Bases: 3rd
Walks: 5th

…whose ranks were clearly worse than Santo’s. Or how about one of the greatest center fielders ever?

Tris Speaker’s ranks at center field in 1980 (Santo’s first year on the ballot):
Games: 3rd
Hits: 2nd
Home Runs: (Too low to mention, Dead Ball Era and all)
RBI: 3rd
Runs: 3rd
Extra-Base Hits: 3rd
OPS: 6th
Runs Created: 3rd
Slugging: 9th
Total Bases: 3rd
Walks: 3rd

I guess what I’m trying to say is this; If Tris Speaker had been on the BBWAA’s ballot in 1980 instead of Ron Santo, would Speaker have been elected? Or how about Foxx, or Cronin or Gehringer? These are the types of very fair questions the BBWAA has set itself up for by failing to elect Ron Santo, because Santo clearly stood among his peers at his position in the same light as Speaker stood among center fielders, or Foxx among first baseman, etc. Santo was, arguably, the second-best third baseman to have played the sport up to that point (with Eddie Mathews clearly having been the best). And yet, for some really, really stupid reason, the BBWAA not only didn’t elect him, but they gave him so few votes that he was dropped from the ballot.

That begs the kinds of question I just asked, plus another; Is third base somehow less important that first base? Of course not. In fact, it’s demonstrably more important given the defensive skills necessary to play there. And yet the BBWAA happily inducted Jimmie Foxx as soon as their early glut of great players was cleared enough for him, and Foxx clearly didn’t stand any better among his peers at first than Santo did among his peers at third.

On top of that, the BBWAA voted in lesser lights as well, men who clearly had no claim to being the second- or third- of tenth-best player at their position. I mean, was Willie Stargell considered one of the top three or four left fielders in the history of the sport when he was elected in 1988? That would be a hard argument to make, considering that Ted Williams and Al Simmons and Stan Musial and Billy Williams had already been elected by the BBWAA and Ed Delahanty was already enshrined as well, having never appeared on a BBWAA ballot.

Or how about Al Kaline? Was he one of the five greatest right fielders ever when he was elected on the first ballot the same year Santo first appeared, 1980? Of course not. Babe Ruth, Mel Ott, Paul Waner, Harry Heilman and Roberto Clemente were all already elected by the writers and were all arguably better, and that doesn’t even get into clearly better players like Sam Crawford who was a Veterans’ Committee selection, or Hank Aaron and Frank Robinson, who were retired at the time and just awaiting first-ballot induction.

And when we turn to Santo’s own position, third base, we find an utterly ridiculous voting pattern. Did you know that in 1980, when Ron Santo first appeared on the BBWAA ballot, they had elected the grand total of TWO third basemen to the Hall of Fame? Eddie Mathews, who clearly deserved it, and Pie Traynor, who is questionable at best. And, by 1980, the BBWAA should have known that. All they had to do was compare Traynor, who played in a prolific period for all hitters, to Santo, who played in a prolific period for all pitchers.

Pie Traynor’s ranks at third base in 1980 (Santo’s first year on the ballot):
Games: 8th
Hits: 2nd
Home Runs: (Too low to mention)
RBI: 4th
Runs: 6th
Extra-Base Hits: T-6th
OPS: 9th
Runs Created: 9th
Slugging: 10th
Total Bases: 5th
Walks: (Nowhere near the top-25)

It’s painfully obvious that Ron Santo was the better baseball player. He completely outclassed one of the only two third basemen who had been elected by the BBWAA at the time he came up for a vote, this was clear even using the most common statistics of the day, and yet he not only wasn’t elected, but was dropped from the ballot and remains on the outside looking in to this day.

The BBWAA needs to face the fact that omitting Santo will always be one of the voters’ dumbest acts. The current Veterans Committee, which, by the admission of at least one of its members, Mike Schmidt, is motivated to keep membership exclusive, has in no way validated this mistake, whether Ringolsby and his minions want to admit it or not. They can go on claiming anything they want, but that won’t make it so.

The fact is that the baseball writers effectively decided to keep the third base equivalent of Jimmie Foxx or Tris Speaker out of the Hall of Fame, and now some of them are desperately grasping at any possible excuse to make that act look like anything other than what it actually is.

A mistake.

Case Study - Tracy Ringolsby

Okay, enough playing nice. Time to get the muscles working again by dissecting another flawed Hall of Fame voter. Today's selection: former BBWAA president and 2005 recipient of the J.G. Taylor Spink Award, Tracy Ringolsby of The Rocky Mountain News. That's right; we're taking on a Hall of Famer. Hey, just because he has credentials as a writer doesn't mean he's got credentials as a voter.

I decided to target Ringolsby after reading his take on the outcome of the Veterans' Committee voting earlier this year. In short, Ringolsby is one of those guys who feels that the VC's failure to elect anyone validates the past work of the BBWAA. Clearly, according to Ringolsby, the BBWAA must have been doing a stellar job if the Veterans couldn't find a single player worthy of election.

That, my friends, is what I call a crock of crap.

Look, I'm sure Tracy Ringolsby is a nice man who works hard at his job as a writer and puts honest effort into his Hall of Fame ballots. I don't get the sense that he exercises personal vendettas against players he didn't like, and I greatly admire the fact that he has chosen to remain a beat writer and attend games in person on a regular basis. Baseball is clearly his sport, and it's nice that he recognizes that.

That said, I think he's pretty much the poster child for why writers shouldn't be allowed to vote. The fact that his fellow voters not only don't agree with that sentiment, but consider him such a model of sports writing and Hall of Fame voting to elect him president of their association AND elect him to the Hall of Fame, tells me that the BBWAA, collectively, doesn't know a damned thing.

In the future, there will be a post about exactly how moronic it is to argue that the Veterans Committee’s recent actions validate the BBWAA’s past results. For now, let’s look at Ringolsby himself. Here are a few direct quotes from Ringolsby about some of his past voting practices, followed by a bit of commentary from me on each.


"I feel (Dave) Concepcion was a dominant player at his position in his time, very underrated for intangibles…"

Ringolsby must have a funny definition of "dominant". Looking at a 30-year period, from 1965 through 1994, which encompasses Concepcion’s entire career plus a few extra seasons before and after he played, Concepcion just doesn't have any kind of case for being the "dominant" shortstop in his time. For example, he didn't lead his position in, well, anything. There is not one positive offensive statistic in which Dave Concepcion was at the top of the list of all the shortstops who played in his era.

The one thing he did better than anyone else was just stay on the field. He played a lot of games, 2488, to be exact, more than any other pure shortstop of this time period, trailing only Robin Yount among players who were classified as shortstops for their careers. And all of those games did, in fact, let him rack up lots of counting numbers. Among his shortstop peers, he was third in hits and fourth in several categories, including doubles, extra base hits, RBI, stolen bases, and total bases.

But it should also be noted that despite playing the most games of any shortstop of this era, Concepcion was just 9th in home runs, 7th in walks, 6th in runs, 5th in runs created, and tied for 15th in triples. His career batting average was worse than eight other shortstops of this period, including Rick Burleson and Garry Templeton and Tony Fernandez. His career on-base percentage was 16th, trailing such offensive juggernauts as Ivan DeJesus, Spike Owen, Chris Speier, and Bud Harrelson. His career slugging percentage of .357 was twelfth, behind world-famous boppers like Burleson, Templeton and Leo Cardenas. His OPS was .679, good for just tenth among his peers. Rico Petrocelli’s was better. So were Roy Smalley’s and Jim Fregosi’s.

What’s more, while Concepcion was an outstanding fielder (6 Gold Gloves, 107 career Rate and 134 career Fielding Runs Above Average according to Baseball Prospectus), he wasn’t the dominant defensive shortstop of his day. That would be Ozzie Smith, who won all 13 of his Gold Gloves in this time period, including nine while Concepcion was still active, and had better career Rate (111) and Fielding Runs Above Average (270) scores. Heck, Mark Belanger has similar defensive stats during this era (8 Gold Gloves, 107 Rate, 112 RAA) and I don’t see anyone calling his defense “dominant”. The same could be said for Tony Fernandez (4 Gold Gloves, 108 Rate, 119 RAA).

Sorry, but "dominant" just doesn’t apply. Great fielder, good clubhouse guy, a winner in the post-season. All true. But "dominant"? Puh-lease.


"A left-handed hitter at Fenway Park probably has as much a stat edge as any hitter at Coors Field."

This came up in the context of Ringolsby explaining why he didn’t rate Wade Boggs as highly as most voters. More on that in a moment, but for now let’s explore just this statement by itself. Maybe this is the Cheyenne-born and -bred Ringolsby’s “homer” moment, born of a love of all things in the Mountain Time Zone, but what a dumb statement.

Let’s start with the obvious fact that Coors Field is widely considered the most hitter-friendly ballpark in history. It has been open for 13 years, and has never had a park factor for hitters lower than 107 and has been as high as 131. It has averaged a park factor of 120, which means that the park boosts offense in general by 20%. For Wade Boggs’ 11 seasons in Boston, Fenway Park never had a park factor higher than 107 for a full season. The average was 105, so already we see that for Ringolsby’s statement to be true there has to be a massive difference between how Fenway plays for righties versus lefties.

Thankfully, studies on this subject exist. One analysis of Fenway from 1992-2001 showed that while lefties’ batting averages surged by 8% in Fenway, their home run numbers suffered by a much larger amount, about 14% on average. So while Fenway might help with a lefty’s total number of hits, it will sap his slugging percentage by a great deal. In an article earlier this year on the Baseball Prospectus web site, the following was noted: “Fenway rates as a 903 for left-handed power (with 1000 being average); Only AT&T Park has a lower score.” This was confirmed in The Bill James Handbook 2007, where it was noted that during the 2006 season, lefties’ batting averages are helped 5% in Fenway, but their home run power is reduced by 31%.

So, in essence, while lefties do have some advantages in Fenway Park, notably in their batting average and in the number of doubles they hit, they come nowhere close to the average advantage gained by hitters in Coors Field. And that’s before we account for Fenway’s tendency to sap left-handers’ home run power. In other words, Ringolsby couldn’t be more wrong.


"I don't think of Boggs among the dominant players at his position during his era, much less all time."

Before getting into Ringolsby’s iffy definition of “dominant” again, let’s address Boggs specifically when it comes to the Fenway Park factor discussed above. There is no doubt that Wade Boggs was greatly helped by Fenway Park. Not being a power hitter, the disadvantages of being a lefty in Fenway largely didn’t affect him, while he was better able than most to take advantage of Fenway’s benefits. For his career, Boggs stat line in Fenway was .369/.464/.527, compared to .306/.388/.398 everywhere else. Clearly, he loved the Fens.

Now, let’s note exactly what that means. It means that Wade Boggs was a .300 hitter even when he didn’t play in Fenway Park. It means that if you extrapolate his non-Fenway numbers out to the full length of his career (2440 games), you still have a player with 2826 hits (44th all-time, between Charlie Gehringer and George Sisler), 1383 runs (tied for 85th all-time with Tony Gwynn), 440 doubles (tied with Roberto Clemente, among others, for 92nd all-time), 1289 walks (38th all-time, ahead of Al Kaline, Ty Cobb, Dave Winfield, Cal Ripken and a host of other Hall of Famers), a .306 average and .388 on-base percentage. His career OPS would have been .786 at a time when the normalized league average was .750, and that’s without the benefit of playing a single home game.

He would still have a pair of Gold Gloves, would still have a slew of All-Star appearances and would still have a World Championship ring. In his Fenway seasons, here is how some of his road batting averages would have finished in the league standings:

1982 – 1st
1983 – 2nd
1985 – 3rd
1986 – 1st
1988 – 2nd

Gee, “only” two batting titles to go along with three other top-3 finishes. What a sham. He also still would have led the league in on-base percentage twice, with several other top-10 finishes. And, again, this would be on the presumption that he played every single game on the road.

I think it’s pretty clear that if Wade Boggs had never set foot in Fenway Park, his career numbers still would have been worthy of Hall of Fame consideration. At the time of his election, the average third baseman in the Hall of Fame had played 2097 games, with 2289 hits, 1192 runs, 404 doubles, 227 homers, 1210 RBI, 804 walks, a .292 batting average, .359 on-base percentage, .455 slugging percentage and .814 OPS. With the exception of the power numbers, Boggs comfortably exceeds all of those figures. And that brings us to Ringolsby’s next point.


"Boggs was a corner infielder. For him to be dominant, in my opinion -- and it's just my opinion -- he had to be a power guy."

So, in Tracy Ringolsby’s world, only third basemen with power numbers provide enough value to be serious Hall of Fame candidates. Without that, their case is fatally flawed.

This is exactly the kind of thinking that kept Boggs in the minor leagues for so long to begin with. He didn’t fit the stereotype for bashing hot corner players, so the Red Sox didn’t give him any regular playing time until he was 25-years old, despite massive minor league success. In Boggs’ last five minor league seasons, these were his on-base percentages - .424, .403, .422, .401, .438, and these were his batting averages - .332, .311, .325, .306, .335. By the way, the last two of those seasons were full years in Triple A, so I’m not sure where else they expected him to prove he wasn’t a fluke. It could fairly be argued that the Red Sox cost Boggs another 200-300 hits for his career by not calling him up and giving him the third base job when he was clearly ready to play.

But Ringolsby apparently agrees with this logic, feeling that Boggs had the fatal flaw of not having home run power, making him a poor man’s third baseman. According to Ringolsby, these namby-pamby on-base guys can only be afforded at third base if the team is getting power from an unexpected source, like catcher, shortstop or center field. Of course, he then failed to do his homework and uncover that the Red Sox were getting exactly that. In Boggs’ first year as the regular third baseman, the Red Sox got 36 homers out of their center fielder, Tony Armas. They got 43 from Armas the next season, along with 24 from their catcher, Rich Gedman. This was a regular trend. During Boggs’ 11 seasons in Boston, here’s how the team finished in slugging percentage each year:

1982 – 7th
1983 – 7th
1984 – 1st
1985 – 2nd
1986 – 7th
1987 – 3rd
1988 – 2nd
1989 – 1st
1990 – 3rd
1991 – 4th
1992 – 13th, after which the club promptly dumped Boggs.

Gee, that no-power third baseman really sapped the club’s power numbers, didn’t he?

See, it’s this kind of crap I find so irritating about Ringolsby and voters like him. They take a stance on a player, based on some personal set of criteria, and then they never both to check whether those criteria are valid. According to Ringolsby, Boggs didn’t get his Hall of Fame vote because he was a creature of Fenway and didn’t provide enough power for a “power” position. And yet the actual facts, had he bothered to look them up, would have pointed to Boggs having Hall-worthy numbers even if he never played a game in Fenway Park and would have shown that the last thing the Red Sox were lacking during Boggs’ playing days was power.

In other words, he’s just plain wrong, but he’d rather blindly stick to his silly personal criteria than actually give his role of Hall of Fame voter the work and respect that it deserves.


“I never felt Boggs was a threat in game situations, much like Rod Carew, and I'm sure this will be another black mark against me, but I didn't vote for Carew either.”

You’re right Tracy, that is another black mark against you. How can anyone who knows anything about baseball claim that Rod Carew wasn’t a “threat in game situations”? In exactly what kind of situations was Carew somehow not threatening? Here’s a few. I wonder if they meet Ringolsby’s criteria for “game situations”:

• Being a lefty, I can envision opposing managers regularly bringing in a left-handed pitcher to face Carew when they needed an out. Carew hit .310 against lefties for his career. Maybe that isn’t threatening enough for Ringolsby.


• On the road, where clubs typically have a harder time scoring, Carew’s career numbers were .323/.385/.425.


• In September and October, when the games typically have more meaning, Carew’s career numbers were .318/.384/.410.


• When leading off an inning, an obviously key game situation, one in which Carew could have been particularly useful given his speed, his career numbers were .319/.381/.430.


• With runners in scoring position, perhaps the very “game situation” Ringolsby was referring to, Carew was an obvious threat, posting career stats of .339/.428/.438.


• With the bases loaded, a pretty critical game situation, Carew was even better, .366/.382/.546.


• With two outs in an inning, again, an obviously critical game situation, Carew’s career line was .318/.396/.409.


• Regardless of the score, Carew was eerily consistent in his success. When the score was within 4 runs either way, Carew hit .328/.393/.427. Within three runs he hit .325/.392/.423. Within two runs, .327/.394/.426. Within one run, .322/.391/.420. When the score was tied, he hit .323/.391/.417.


• With two outs and runners in scoring position, perhaps the most critical, clutch “game situation” a player can face, Carew hit .310/.427/.394.


• In extra innings, Carew hit .333/.441/.438.


• Versus relief pitchers, who are specifically sent in to retire people like Rod Carew, he hit .332/.410/.424.


• In 1969, when the Twins won the AL West crown, their primary competition was Oakland. Carew hit .329/.365/.543 against Oakland that season. The following year, when that beat out Oakland again for the division title, Carew hit .474/.500/.474 against the A’s.


• In 1976, when the Twins were in a pennant race with the A’s and Royals for most of the season, Carew hit .379/.453/.515 against Oakland and .367/.415/.500 against Kansas City.


• In 1979, when Carew’s Angels team won the AL West title by just three games over the three-time defending division champion Royals, he hit .348/.483/.391 against Kansas City.


• In 1982, when he Angels again beat out the Royals by just three games for the division title, Carew hit .333/.400/.500 versus Kansas City.
  

Maybe Ringolsby is thinking of other “game situations”, or maybe he sees the above numbers and doesn’t consider any of them “threatening”. Either way, it doesn’t speak well of his voting record to leave a man like Rod Carew off his ballot.


"Jack Morris has always been an easy choice for me. He was the pitcher that you wanted on the mound in a big game throughout his career. He had that extra sense of how to win. He didn't let big games get away from him."

Really? Jack Morris didn’t let the big games get away from him? Then, I guess Game 5 of the 1992 World Series wasn’t a big game. You remember that one, right? It was the game where Morris gave up a first inning run to put his team in a hole, only to have them tie the score an inning later. After that, he promptly put his team down again by giving up a lead-off homer to David Justice in the fourth inning. After his team picked him by tying the score in the bottom if the fourth, Morris promptly put his team down for the third and final time the very next inning. He retired the first two hitters and was one out away from getting his team to the plate in a tie ballgame when the next five guys up went single-steal-single-double-walk-grand slam.

The common story that Jack Morris was a money pitcher whose mediocre career ERA was due to him "pitching to the score”, who could turn it on and be a bulldog in big games, is just a myth. To be sure, Morris absolutely had his moments. In seven career World Series starts, he had six quality starts, with just the one 1992 game mentioned above being a bust. But it should be noted that Morris had just two quality starts in six tries in the League Championship Series. (In fact, in one of his poorer ALCS starts, Morris was soundly outpitched by Bert Blyleven. More on him in a moment.)

Morris also failed numerous times in late-season, pressure-filled pennant races. On September 25th, 1981, the Tigers woke up with a one-game lead in a tight AL East race. Morris took the mound that day and gave up eight runs to Milwaukee, the eventual division champion. His horrible outing included him surrendering four runs in the top of the first, only to see his team battle back and take a 6-5 lead into the ninth, whereupon Morris, one out away from victory, plunked Paul Molitor with a pitch and then gave up a game-winning three-run homer to Robin Yount. The Tigers lost their one-game lead and never got it back, ultimately missing the playoffs.

In 1987, with his club holding the slimmest of leads over the Toronto Blue Jays with just a couple of weeks to play, Morris turned in a series of stinkers. On September 20th, be gave up 6 runs and took the loss against Milwaukee, cutting Detroit’s lead to just a half-game. Four days later, with his club having surrendered their lead to Toronto, Morris faced the Blue Jays in Toronto with first place on the line. He walked an astounding eight hitters and after his club had taken a 2-0 lead with two runs in the top of the third, Morris promptly surrendered the lead by giving up four runs on four hits, two walks, and a wild pitch in the bottom of that inning. The Tigers couldn’t recover and lost the game, falling to 1.5 games out of first. Four days later, with his club now trailing by 2.5 games and desperate for a win, Morris took the mound against a bad Baltimore team that was just 2-17 in their previous 19 games. Morris surrendered the lead in the third inning and walked five on his way to a loss to the far-from-immortal John Habyan. In his final game of the season just five days later, after the Tigers had clawed their way back to a flat-footed tie with the Blue Jays, Morris promptly put his club behind in a head-to-head matchup with their rivals by surrendering a run in the very first inning. When his team tied the score an inning later, Morris promptly put them behind again by surrendering another run in the fifth. Though the Tigers eventually tied the score again, and hung on to win the game in twelve innings, Morris was soundly outpitched by Mike Flanagan. Morris gave up eight hits and five walks in nine innings, while striking out just six, compared to Flanagan’s yeoman 11 innings of work, with only eight hits and two walks surrendered while striking out nine. If not for Mike Henneman shutting down the Blue Jays for the final three innings, Detroit likely would have fallen a game out of first with just one to play.

The very next year, Detroit held the lead in the AL East for most of the summer, and on August 21st their record stood at 73-50, in first place by four games over Boston. The team then went 5-19 over their next 24 games, surrendering the lead and falling five games out of first. During this stretch, Morris started five games and posted an abysmal ERA of 5.57. He allowed 52 baserunners in just 32.1 innings.

Yup, a real big-game pitcher that Jack Morris. Never let those big games get away from him.

Ringolsby is guilty of a classic case of selective memory. He recalls Morris’ finer moments, like his ten-inning shutout of the Braves to clinch the 1991 World Series, and stamps him with the “big-game pitcher” label, despite the fact that there really isn’t any difference at all between Morris’ regular season stats and his “big-game” stats, and despite numerous, documented instances of Morris screwing the pooch in big games.

A little research would be a marvelous curative, but I guess Ringolsby don’t need no stinkin’ research. Nope, he’s got Jack Morris slotted for immortality, comfortably oblivious to the fact that the most similar pitcher to Morris in baseball history is Dennis Martinez.

Wins: Morris, 254; Martinez, 245
Starts: Morris, 527; Martinez, 562
Innings: Morris, 3824; Martinez, 3999.2
ERA: Morris, 3.90; Martinez, 3.70
ERA+: Morris, 104; Martinez, 106
Strikeouts: Morris, 2478; Martinez, 2149
Shutouts: Morris, 28; Martinez, 30
WHIP: Morris, 1.296; Martinez, 1.266
Post-Season ERA: Morris, 3.80; Martinez, 3.32

Hey, who knows? Maybe Ringolsby is one of the 16 voters who thought Martinez belonged in the Hall in his only year on the ballot in 2004. In fact, that wouldn’t surprise me at all.


"I felt Blyleven was a pretty darn good pitcher but never felt he was dominating or intimidating or the best in the game."

There’s that word again, “dominating”. Apparently it’s one of Ringolsby’s primary criteria when he casts his Hall of Fame votes, and he doesn’t feel that Bert Blyleven had it.

Now, keep in mind that Ringolsby admits he voted for Luis Tiant. That's Luis. Tiant. Now, I loved Luis. Wildly entertaining. Gutsy. But was Luis Tiant dominating, or intimidating, or the best in the game? Umm, let me just say "no" for all of us and move along.

Also keep in mind that Ringolsby admits he voted for Jim Kaat. Jim “No One In My Life Ever Called Me Dominating or Intimidating” Kaat. I’ve pointed out this discrepancy between Kaat and Blyleven before, but let’s do so again for the sake of clarity.

Wins: Blyleven, 287; Kaat, 283
Starts: Blyleven, 685; Kaat, 625
Complete Games: Blyleven, 242; Kaat, 180
Shutouts: Blyleven, 60; Kaat, 31
Innings: Blyleven, 4970; Kaat, 4530.1
Strikeouts: Blyleven, 3701; Kaat, 2461
ERA: Blyleven, 3.31; Kaat, 3.45
ERA+: Blyleven, 118; Kaat, 107
WHIP: Blyleven, 1.198; Kaat, 1.259
Top-10 Cy Young finishes: Blyleven, 4; Kaat, 1
Oh by the way: Blyleven, two World Series titles; Kaat, one.

For good measure, these are their respective post-season records:

Kaat: 9 games, 5 starts, 1-3, 4.01 ERA, 1.541 WHIP, 10 strikeouts in 24.2 innings
Blyleven: 8 games, 6 starts, 5-1, 2.47 ERA, 1.077 WHIP, 36 strikeouts in 47.1 innings

(Quick aside: Isn’t it funny that Jack Morris’ career post-season mark of 7-4 with an ERA of 3.80 and a WHIP of 1.245 gives him the title of “big-game pitcher”, but Blyleven’s 5-1, 2.47 ERA, 1.077 WHIP gets him nothing?)

Clearly, Blyleven had better numbers than Kaat (I’m not even going to bother with Tiant’s), and there’s no way in the world Jim Kaat fits the Ringolsby criterion of being “dominant” or “intimidating”. So, in essence, he decided to vote for an inferior pitcher for the Hall of Fame because he made one extra All-Star team during his career and won a ton of Gold Gloves. That’s neat, and I’m sure Jim Kaat is every bit the gentleman I’ve always heard, but given the insignificance of defense from the pitcher, I’m afraid I just don’t see how Ringolsby’s stance is justified.

In fact, I think that this kind of random voting pattern, where a good player doesn’t get his vote while a lesser player does, is an abuse of the voting power Ringolsby and the other writers have been granted. In a private moment, I think Tracy Ringolsby, the hardcore baseball fan and personal witness to thousands of games, would tell you that Bert Blyleven was a better pitcher than Jim Kaat. If that’s the case, then he’s abusing his voting power by not casting his vote for the player he thinks is better.

And if he doesn’t admit that Blyleven was better than Kaat, then he’s either lying (which I doubt), or he just has no clue how to evaluate the career accomplishments of baseball players.

Either way, he should have his voting privileges pulled.