The Baseball Hall of Fame has improved the ridiculous structure of its Veterans Committees and corrected the egregious racism that was part of the old structure.
The three rotating committees used the last several years will now become four committees, with more frequent consideration by the committees that review more recent players. In a significant development, the revised process will allow consideration again for Negro League players and contributors.
The three Eras Committees the Hall of Fame has been using could hardly be more absurd. Each had its own nonsensical aspects:
The Pre-Integration Era Committee, as I noted last year, perpetuated segregation in baseball by having one committee that could consider only white players. Consideration of Negro League players of the Hall of Fame ended in 2006, and the rules for the Pre-Integration Era Committee said that it could consider only “major league” players (and coaches, umpire and executives) whose primary contributions came prior to 1947, and that meant whites only.
The Golden Era Committee considered players (and others) whose primary contributions fell from 1947 to 1972. Who the hell proclaimed this the “Golden Era” of baseball? Not Cincinnati Reds fans, whose team’s golden era was just getting started in 1972. Not fans of the Seattle Mariners, Toronto Blue Jays, Arizona Diamondbacks or other teams that didn’t even exist in 1972. Not fans of the Philadelphia Phillies, who won their only championships after the supposed Golden Era. Hey, my childhood fell during this supposed Golden Era. In other circumstances, I might argue that this was the golden era (the Yankees won 10 World Series in the era). Isn’t whenever you grew up the “golden era” of anything? But in designating eras for Hall of Fame consideration, it’s laughable, as though players elected from this era are automatically greater, more golden, than the others. And, you know what ended the Golden Era? Let’s see, what changed about baseball in 1973? That’s when they adopted the designated hitter rule, which self-anointed purists think ruined baseball. Because it’s so much fun to watch pitchers hit.
The Expansion Era Committee considered players and contributors whose greatest contributions came since 1973. But what the hell did 1973 have to do with expansion? It’s the Designated Hitter Era (even though the committee hasn’t admitted anyone who was primarily a DH; the only DH in the Hall, Frank Thomas, was elected by the Baseball Writers Association of America, and the Hall calls him a first baseman, even though he played more games at DH). Baseball expanded in 1961 and 1962, adding two teams each year, then in 1969, adding four. So a majority of the expansion teams, eight of 14, were added before the so-called “Expansion Era” of the Hall of Fame’s absurd Era Committees.
Each year when the Baseball Hall of Fame votes come out, I applaud for the new Hall of Famers (Ken Griffey Jr. and Mike Piazza this year). But then I quickly turn to the players who didn’t make it.
I’ve always been fascinated by the bizarre and inconsistent (or consistently biased) decisions about borderline contenders made by Hall of Fame voters — the Baseball Writers Association of America and the various Veterans Committees that have decided on players not chosen by the writers.
My most frequent topic on this blog is Yankees who belong in the Hall of Fame. But I’m going to roll around baseball in this post to recognize Cooperstown contenders from other teams.
Of course, I’m more convinced by the arguments for the Yankees. And, if a guy’s not in the Hall of Fame, the arguments aren’t persuasive yet to the voters. The best players discussed here are less than automatic. No Griffey, Derek Jeter or Greg Maddux in the group.
In addition, I won’t deal with the all-time greats who are being kept out of Cooperstown because of gambling or drug scandals: Pete Rose, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens. I dealt with them in last week’s post suggesting a Scoundrels Committee to decide how to deal with the great players who are tainted by scandal. I will, though, address the borderline players tainted by drug suspicions: Those whose numbers once would have made them certain Hall of Famers, but they became borderline either because of inflation of power figures during their careers or because of speculation about how much drugs inflated their own numbers.
This look at borderline players around the league will show that the anti-Yankee bias in selection is huge. I will go team by team and mention all the borderline contenders. I doubt I’ll leave out anyone with a real shot at Cooperstown, but your round-up of borderline contenders certainly won’t be identical to mine.
With a few exceptions, I won’t dwell much on the case for a particular candidate, but will look for articles or blog posts where other writers have made the case and link to them. I won’t bother linking to articles about suspicions of performance-enhancing drugs. I presume you remember the accusations, whispers, etc. in those cases.
Some players will show up under multiple teams. I won’t try to name contenders in all the teams where they played, but will mention some on teams where they made notable contributions.
Here’s what I consider a borderline candidate: anyone who doesn’t make the Hall of Fame in his first five years on the writers’ ballot, but whose career achievements resemble at least some Hall of Famers. The time on the writers’ ballot was shortened in 2014 from 15 years to 10 (though three players approaching 15 years were grandfathered in, giving Trammell, Smith and a few others another year or two).
The second path to the Hall of Fame, if the writers didn’t vote you in, used to be called the Old-Timers’ Committee, then the Veterans Committee. Now committees in rotating years consider retired players (and managers and other contributors) from three eras, pre-integration (before 1947), the “Golden Era” (1947-72) and the Expansion Era (post-1972, which is an odd cut-off point, given that baseball expanded in 1961, ’62, ’69 and ’76, but not in ’72. I presume after a while the Expansion Era will be broken into two eras, though I doubt they will call the second one the Steroid Era. I don’t expect the era committees to last long. I anticipate yet another overhaul in the Veterans Committee structure.
For purposes of this post, I consider a player a borderline candidate if he’s likely to have sports writers (or bloggers such as me) making a case someday that he should get consideration by a Veterans Committee.
I won’t deal with managers here, but that might be a topic for a future post.
American League East
Boston Red Sox
Hall of Fame voters love the Red Sox, so Schilling will make it to Cooperstown eventually, but I’ll address him more as a Diamondback.
Luis Tiant (who gave the Yankees a couple decent years toward the end of his career) was one of the candidates rejected in 2014 by the Golden Era Committee.
Some Red Sox fans contend that Dwight Evans should be in the Hall of Fame (a point I discussed last year with Jim Brady), and I really liked Evans. But there are several Yankees (and players from other teams) with stronger cases for Cooperstown. He blossomed unusually late in his career. I think he has a better shot, though, than Reggie Smith, an earlier Boston outfielder who’s definitely in the borderline category.
Red Sox fans won’t think of Bill Buckner as a borderline Hall of Famer, and he just lasted one year on the ballot. More on him in the Dodgers section.
Fred Lynn appeared bound for the Hall of Fame, starting his career with nine straight All-Star seasons. But he flamed out and Hall of Fame voters place an inordinate value on longevity. He has no chance.
Baltimore Orioles
Rafael Palmeiro is remembered better for his defiant assurance to Congress that he never used performance-enhancing drugs, and then failing a drug test, than for his play on the field. It’s interesting that Clemens was prosecuted for lying to Congress, based on the testimony of an admitted drug dealer, but Palmeiro wasn’t prosecuted based on physical evidence. Did the prosecutors think he thought after his testimony that maybe it was time to try performance-enhancing drugs?
Palmeiro is one of those players who moves from automatic to barely borderline, based on drug suspicions. Along with Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Alex Rodriguez, Palmeiro’s one of only four players to pass 500 homers and 3,000 hits, but he played in an era of such performance enhancement that he made only four All-Star teams. Whatever stats he achieved, he was just one of the juicers.
Fun fact about Palmeiro: He won a Gold Glove in 1999 after playing only 28 games at first base and DH’ing 128 times. He’ll have to settle for that as the biggest honor he won but didn’t deserve.
Even after voters start allowing a few drug users in, if they ever do, I doubt Palmeiro will make it. If voters start allowing juicers into Cooperstown, it will be based on speculation of how great they were before they juiced or would have been without juicing. Palmeiro might be the easiest guy to dismiss his Hall of Fame numbers as completely a result of drugs.
Hall of Fame voters love longevity, so Moose definitely has a shot (he polled in the low 20 percents his first two years on the ballot and was up to 43 percent this year). I’d be surprised if either McNally or Cuellar makes it, but not outraged. They were great pitchers, but played in an era of many greater pitchers, and neither achieved the longevity that Hall voters demand (that’s an even stronger bias than the voters’ anti-Yankee bent).
Bobby Grich had a nice career, but was only on the Hall of Fame ballot for a year. He has no shot. Boog Powell won an MVP, but didn’t hit enough homers (339) to make the Hall of Fame as a one-dimensional slugger.
Toronto Blue Jays
Joe Carter probably won’t make the Hall of Fame but probably should. A guy with ten 100-RBI seasons and a World Series-winning homer has a shot at winning support someday from a Veterans Committee. I watched him play in the minors with the Iowa Cubs (he went to the Indians in the Rick Sutcliffe trade), and was a fan his whole career.
Fred McGriff ended seven homers short of 500, which at one time was a sure ticket to Cooperstown. I don’t recall that anyone ever suggested the Crime Dog was a juicer, but he played in an era when homers were devalued. It definitely hurts him that he didn’t quite make it to 500. He hasn’t reached even 25 percent of the writers’ vote yet (21 percent this year). Carlos Delgado finished 20 homers behind McGriff in an era of inflated slugging numbers. He was off the ballot in a year. John Olerud is even a longer-shot Blue Jay first baseman, who didn’t get even 1 percent of the vote his only year on the ballot. But the Blue Jays have had an impressive list of borderline candidates at first base.
This is one of three teams where Jack Morris should get a mention, but his Hall of Fame pitch is based mostly on his years with the Tigers and Twins, so I’ll address it more there.
I don’t see David Wells or David Cone making the Hall of Fame, but both had years with the Blue Jays and Yankees that push them into the borderline territory.
Tampa Bay Rays
The Rays have hardly been playing long enough to have any players awaiting the call from Cooperstown, but Jose Canseco had his last All-Star season in St. Petersburg. And Palmeiro might get the call before Canseco, whose great play was too short-lived. And he gets no credit for admitting his drug use, because he snitched on so many other players.
A.L. Central
Kansas City Royals
Bret Saberhagen’s autograph on a ball belonging to my son Mike.
I love Bret Saberhagen, and few multiple Cy Young winners don’t make the Hall of Fame, but he really had only one other great year. You need a tragic end to your career to get in the Hall of Fame with just 167 wins. (Dizzy Dean won 150, Sandy Koufax 165.) Sabes became just an average pitcher, or worse, most of the final decade of his career.
Cone, won his Cy Young in Kansas City, probably has a bit better shot at the Hall of Fame, but he’s not likely to get there, even with a 20-win season and a perfect game for the Yankees.
Frank White was a great fielder, but substantially less a hitter than two other contemporaries at second base: Willie Randolph (a Yankee for whom I don’t make a Hall of Fame case) and Lou Whitaker (more on him later). White will have to settle for his eight Gold Gloves and the Royals Hall of Fame.
Dan Quisenberry is a long shot for selection by an Expansion Era Committee someday. He made the 2014 ballot, but didn’t win election. He was baseball’s best reliever for a six-year stretch (when Hall of Fame relievers Bruce Sutter, Rollie Fingers and Goose Gossage were in their primes). But voters normally demand a longer career than Quiz had.
Minnesota Twins
Morris absolutely belongs in the Hall of Fame, and he’ll get there someday. He peaked at two-thirds of the writers’ votes (75 percent are required), and players who get that close with the writers always get in eventually. I bet he gets in on his first chance under the Expansion Era Committee.
He maybe pitched the best World Series game ever, a 10-inning shutout duel over John Smoltz that looms bigger in a way than Don Larsen’s perfect game because it was in Game Seven.
Morris is the easiest eventual Hall of Famer to project among those who were passed over by the writers.
Jim Kaat actually might as strong a case for the Hall of Fame as Morris. With 283 wins, he has a record of longevity that normally gets pitchers into Cooperstown.
Bert Blyleven was a contemporary of Kaat’s with just four more wins (Kaat’s wins slowed down when he moved to the bullpen for his final five seasons, robbing him of the chance to reach 300 wins). Blyleven was a borderline candidate who made the Hall of Fame on his 14th year on the ballot. But Kaat had more 20-win seasons and Blyleven never won a Gold Glove. Kaat won 16 Gold Gloves, which was a record until Greg Maddux broke it.
The Golden Era Committee rejected Kaat in 2014, but two of his 20-win seasons came in the Expansion Era, so he might get a shot with another committee.
Frank Viola and Kent Hrbek had some great seasons with the Twins, but neither played long enough or played at his peak long enough to have a valid case for Cooperstown.
Cleveland Indians
I mentioned Tiant in the Red Sox section, but he pitched well for the Indians, too, including winning the 1968 ERA title.
Kenny Lofton‘s primary claim to the Hall of Fame is as a base stealer. He ranks 15th all-time with 622 steals. But steals rarely get a player into the Hall of Fame. Six of the players ahead of Lofton on the list aren’t in Cooperstown yet. Raines, fifth on the list, will probably make it, but gets his last shot on the writers’ ballot next year. Bert Campaneris, just ahead of Lofton on the list with 649 steals, led the league seven times (to five for Lofton) and Willie Wilson and Vince Coleman, outfielders whose careers overlapped with Lofton, had more steals and neither lasted a year on the writers’ ballot. Same as Lofton. None of them will be honored at Cooperstown.
Carter probably has a stronger shot than fellow Cleveland outfielders Albert Belle or Rocky Colavito. I’ll discuss Julio Franco with the Rangers. But I don’t see any Indians likely to move across the Hall of Fame border.
Chicago White Sox
Three White Sox, Minnie Miñoso, Billy Pierce and Dick Allen, were among the 10 players by the 2014 Golden Era Committee. Miñoso belongs in the Hall of Fame, and I think he’ll make it someday.
Allen had some great years, including an MVP season for the White Sox, but his career numbers didn’t reach automatic Hall of Fame standards. I think some African American and Latino players of his time perhaps got unfair reputations as malcontents, but Allen got one, and that holds you back when you’re a borderline contender. Allen had a similar career to Ron Santo (a White Sox teammate in 1974), and Sant0’s in the Hall of Fame. In my series on racial discrimination in Hall of Fame selections, I showed how Allen was easily as good as or better than white first and third basemen who made the Hall of Fame as borderline candidates.
Harold Baines came up 134 hits short of 3,000, which would have ensured him Hall of Fame selection. Instead, the anti-DH bias was too powerful to overcome. He lasted just four years on the ballot. If Edgar Martinez can’t get into Cooperstown, Baines doesn’t have a shot.
Kaat had two of his 20-win seasons for the White Sox.
Detroit Tigers
The Tigers have one of the biggest fields of valid Hall of Fame contenders.
Of course, Morris had more of his great years for the Tigers than any other team.
Frank Tanana won almost as many games as Morris, but has no shot at the Hall of Fame. More on him in the Angels section.
Trammell and Lou Whitaker were the absolute best offense/defense shortstop/second base combo of their time.
My Cal Ripken autograph
Barry Larkin, who overlapped careers with Trammell for 11 years, made it into the Hall of Fame his third year on the ballot. Neither was the best shortstop of their time; that was Cal Ripken Jr. But Trammell and Larkin had highly similar careers (Trammell had more hits, RBI and Gold Gloves, and other numbers were very close). Larkin was probably better, but you simply can’t explain why the writers elected Larkin in his third year on the ballot and never gave Trammell even 50 percent of the vote in 15 years on the ballot.
Whitaker was the best second baseman of his time in the American League. Ryne Sandberg was better in the National League. But you simply can’t defend the fact that neither of the Tiger infielders is in the Hall of Fame. I expect some Expansion Era Committee to admit them together one day.
If you don’t remember the 1960s, you probably think Freehan is a stretch, but he and Yankee Elston Howard were the best American League catchers of their time. And best catchers of an era usually make it. I don’t think any catchers between Yogi Berra and Johnny Bench will make it to Cooperstown (not counting Joe Torre, who was enshrined as a manager and the only N.L. catcher comparable to Freehan and Howard). But you can make a case for Freehan. He wasn’t much of an offensive player, but he was about as good as Rick Ferrell, a Hall of Fame catcher elected mostly for his defense. I could find only one eligible person with more All-Star selections than Freehan (11) who’s not in the Hall of Fame, except those being kept out for gambling or drugs.
Gary Sheffield played for eight teams, including two years with the Tigers. I discuss his Hall of Fame chances under the Marlins.
Darrell Evans got 414 homers. You used to be automatic if you made it to 500, but you needed other qualifications if you were in the 400s and Evans didn’t have strong enough other qualifications. He lasted just one year on the writers’ ballot.
Cecil Fielder, who later played for the Yankees, had a four-year stretch for the Tigers where he appeared Cooperstown bound. But he ended well short of Hall of Fame career standards and didn’t get even 1 percent of the vote his only year on the ballot.
Kirk Gibson doesn’t have Hall of Fame stats, but he has Hall of Fame fame. Though often injured (the reason his stats fell short), he was one of the most feared hitters of his time. And damn, he hit two of the most famous World Series homers, off Hall of Fame relievers Goose Gossage and Dennis Eckersley.
They should rename the place the Hall of Stats if they’re not going to admit a player of Gibson’s actual fame (and I don’t think they ever will).
A.L. West
Oakland A’s
Dave Stewart was a dominant pitcher, winning 20 games four years in a row, and pitching in three straight World Series (he was 10-6 in post-season play). But he lacked the longevity that Hall of Fame voters demand, winning only 168 games.
Mark McGwire and Jose Canseco are being kept out of the Hall because of PED’s. Vida Blue fell short of usual Hall of Fame standards because his cocaine addiction curtailed his career.
If the Baseball Hall of Fame rewarded cornerstone players on championship dynasties the way that the basketball and football halls do, Bert Campaneris, Sal Bando, Joe Rudi and Ken Holtzman might get into Cooperstown, but they mostly didn’t play long enough to compile the career stats the Baseball Hall demands. Campy might have the best shot to get in someday.
California/Anaheim/Los Angeles Angels
Angels Hall of Famers tend to have long careers that include several great seasons in Anaheim but long stretches with other teams as well: Nolan Ryan, Reggie Jackson, Rod Carew (and someday Albert Pujols).
Their best borderline Hall of Fame contender, Don Baylor, would fit that mold, too. He falls a little short of Hall of Fame standards as a player (even not accounting for the anti-DH bias and the anti-Yankee bias he faces for three solid years in New York). And he’s well short of Hall of Fame standards for a manager, despite a Manager of the Year award in 1995. But Expansion Era Committee rules allow consideration of both careers together. With his managing career added to his playing career, and with admiration for the eight times he led his league in being hit by pitches, I could see Baylor finally making it to Cooperstown, though I don’t expect it.
He hit an 11th-inning grand-slam homer for the Yankees in old Comiskey Park (that I called as he came to the plate) to beat the White Sox, 12-6, in 1983 in one of the best games I ever saw live.
Bobby Grich, as I mentioned in the Orioles section, has no chance. Same with Frank Tanana, though he won 240 games. He never won 20 games and didn’t get a vote his only year on the ballot. Chuck Finley made it to 200 wins on the nose, but had no other notable qualifications and didn’t even get 1 percent of the vote his only year on the ballot.
Oddly, I don’t see anyone from the 2002 Angels championship team with a shot at the Hall of Fame. World champions without Hall of Famers, as I noted last year, are rare.
Texas Rangers
I think Palmeiro, Juan Gonzalez and Canseco have no chance at the Hall of Fame unless drug-tainted players start getting consideration, and they might not even make it then. Several juicers will be ahead of them in line. Ivan Rodriguez, also a steroid user from that team, was clearly the best defensive catcher of his generation and a good offensive player, and gets his first shot on the writers’ ballot next year. If voters start letting PED users into Cooperstown, or if a Scoundrels Committee brings some order to consideration of players tainted by scandal, he would probably be in the second or third wave of players accepted. He definitely has the best chance of the drug-tainted Rangers (other than Alex Rodriguez, who’s still playing, but will go into the Bonds-Clemens category of all-time greats who may get a break someday because they were so great before they were thought to start juicing).
As much as the Hall of Fame loves longevity, it does take more than that to get into Cooperstown. Franco played until he was 48 and played 23 seasons. But only three of those were All-Star years, all with the Rangers, including a batting championship in 1991. But he still didn’t get any votes his only year on the Hall of Fame ballot.
Edgar Martinez is the most obvious borderline Hall of Fame candidate from Seattle. But he faces a strong bias of Hall of Fame voters: their disdain for the designated hitter.
Martinez’s .312 batting average is Hall of Fame quality, with 2,247 hits and 309 homers. He got 43 percent of the vote from the writers this year, far short of the 75 percent he needs for election. He has just three years left on the writers’ ballot, and I expect his best shot will be with a Veterans Committee. I expect after years of bias, a committee someday will want to recognize one of the best DH’s ever.
Houston Astros
I think Bagwell will make the Hall of Fame, probably next year (he was tantalizingly close this year, his sixth eligible year, with 71.6 percent). He never was actually accused of using steroids, but suspicion that he might have has kept his Hall of Fame vote totals down. Bagwell was hurt by having his best year cut short by the 1994 strike. He had a shot to catch Roger Maris‘ record of 61 homers before McGwire did four years later.
Rusty Staub has no chance. He was on the writers’ ballot six years without reaching 10 percent of the vote. At 2,716 hits, you might think initially that he could have hung on another 2-3 years to make it to 3,000 hits and punch his Cooperstown ticket. But he topped 100 hits only once in his last seven years and got only 12 hits in 1985, his last year. Staub wrung every hit out of his career that he could, and it wasn’t enough.
Two of the Mets’ best borderline Hall of Famers started their careers appearing to be locks for Cooperstown. The difference between baseball’s drug users of the 1980s and those of the 1990s and 21st Century was that cocaine and other recreational drugs eventually ruined performance, rather than enhancing it.
Dwight Gooden and Darryl Strawberry ended their careers as borderline Hall of Fame contenders (Gooden closer to the border), based on their stats. But based on their wasted potential, they really have no shot at ever getting in. A borderline candidate needs some voters to give him a break, and players who wasted this much potential will not get breaks. (Of course, Gooden and Strawberry count as borderline contenders for both the Yankees and the Mets, but their Yankee years were toward the end, when they were trying to salvage their careers.)
Keith Hernandez is kind of in the same category, though he didn’t soar as high or fall as far. His appearance on Seinfeld is a favorable post-career contrast to Gooden’s and Strawberry’s prison terms. But Hernandez doesn’t have as strong a Hall of Fame case as Don Mattingly, who’s not in the Hall, so I don’t ever expect to see him in Cooperstown.
Jerry Koosman won 222 games, so that makes him a borderline Hall of Fame contender. But he had none of the other qualifications that a pitcher in the low 200s needs, and lasted just a year on the ballot.
Thankfully, Dave Kingman (a Yankee for eight games in 1977) hit only 442 homers. If he had made it to 500 before the PED era, he might have made the Hall of Fame, and such a one-dimensional player really doesn’t belong there. He didn’t get even 1 percent of the writers’ votes his only year on the ballot.
Boston, Milwaukee and Atlanta Braves
With the 1950s underrepresented in the Hall of Fame and today’s old-timer selection structured by eras, Lew Burdette is a top contender to receive the Golden Era Committee’s nod someday. He’d be another Yankee in the Hall of Fame, too, having pitched two games for the 1950 Yankees before being traded to the Boston Braves for Johnny Sain.
Dale Murphy never reached 25 percent of the writers’ vote, but he’s a prime candidate for the Expansion Era Committee. Three of the best hitters of the 1980s — Murphy, Gibson and Mattingly — aren’t in the Hall of Fame. I think Mike Schmidt was the only hitter of the 1980s who was more feared by pitchers and managers than these three. George Brett and Eddie Murray were similarly feared. Murphy, with back-to-back MVP awards in 1982 and ’83, five Gold Gloves, two titles each in homers and RBI, might have a better shot than Gibson or Mattingly to make the Hall of Fame.
Sheffield is unlikely to make the Hall of Fame, but the Braves were one of several teams he starred for. I discussed Darrell Evans with the Tigers, but he contributed to the Braves, too. Bob Elliott lasted three years on the ballot. I don’t think he’ll get Golden Era Committee consideration. David Justice and Terry Pendleton had some good years for the 1990s Braves, but barely reached the borderline area. Neither got a second year on the writers’ ballot.
Philadelphia Phillies
My Steve Carlton autograph
The Phillies’ almost-dynasty that won five division titles and a World Series from 1976 to 1983 included three first-ballot Hall of Famers, Mike Schmidt, Steve Carlton and Joe Morgan (though Morgan was a Phillie only in 1983 and was elected mostly for his achievements on the Reds). Pete Rose would have been a fourth certain Hall of Famer from those Phillie champs if he hadn’t gambled.
Those Phillies don’t have a strong cast of borderline Hall of Fame contenders, though. Kaat, as I noted earlier, will probably make Cooperstown someday. He pitched for the ’76-’79 Phillies, but never won more than 12 games (and that was a losing season for a division champion). If Kaat is elected, it will be for longevity and for his excellence with the Twins and White Sox.
I discussed Dick Allen, a Phillies star from the 1960s, in the White Sox section. If he makes the Hall of Fame, it will be for his White Sox years and his contributions to the 1960s Phillies. But he returned for mediocre 1975-76 seasons toward the end of his career.
Greg Luzinski was a one-dimensional slugger who had four straight All-Star seasons for the Phillies in the ’70s. But he fell well short of Hall of Fame career standards and lasted only one year on the ballot.
Tug McGraw was a closer for two World Series teams, the 1973 Mets and the 1980 Phillies, but he didn’t last a year on the Hall of Fame ballot. His son may make the Country Music Hall of Fame someday, but Daddy’s not making it to Cooperstown.
That Phillies team had four multiple Gold Glove winners (in addition to Schmidt and Kaat and not counting Morgan, who won his with the Reds). Bob Boone, Larry Bowa, Garry Maddox and Manny Trillo combined for 20 Gold Gloves, but only Boone lasted more than one year on the ballot, and he fell off after five, without ever getting 10 percent of the vote.
Maybe Boone is a long shot for Cooperstown, with a similar career to Rick Ferrell, a weak-hitting defensive standout who played a long time and made it to the Hall of Fame. Boone can’t get much extra credit for his mediocre managing career, and you don’t get extra credit for sons who were good players (but also not Hall of Famers).
Boone was, at best, the fifth-best catcher of his time. Johnny Bench, Carlton Fisk and Gary Carter are all in the Hall of Fame. Thurman Munson was a better catcher and belongs in the Hall of Fame, but won’t make it. Ted Simmons wasn’t as good defensively as Boone and caught almost 500 fewer games (he eventually moved to first base and DH). But Simmons was a much better hitter than Boone and played longer (21 seasons vs. 19).
It’s hard to make a case that a guy who was the fifth or sixth best catcher of his time belongs in the Hall of Fame, especially if players ahead of him aren’t there yet. But Hall voters love longevity, and since Ferrell made it, you can’t say Boone won’t. I’d be surprised, though.
Schilling is the only star from the 1993 World Series team with a shot at the Hall of Fame, but I’ll deal with him under the Diamondbacks.
The stars of the 2008-9 Phillies haven’t reached Hall of Fame consideration yet.
Washington Nationals/Montreal Expos
Raines, as I discussed yesterday, might be poised to make the Hall of Fame next year. If not, he’ll be an easy call for an Expansion Era Committee.
Dennis Martinez pitched long enough to rack up 245 wins without ever topping 16 in a season. He lasted just one year on the writers’ ballot.
Florida/Miami Marlins
Sheffield and Kevin Brown of the 1997 Marlins championship team (both also were Yankees) have little shot at the Hall of Fame.
Sheffield passed 500 homers, which used to mean automatic enshrinement. But Sheffield is seventh on the list of known PED users (and likely to be passed in April by David Ortiz) in career homers. He’s not going to see Cooperstown, except as a tourist.
Brown, who pitched for six teams, including the Yankees, didn’t have a great enough prime or pitch long enough to make it to the Hall of Fame.
None of the stars from the 2003 champs are eligible yet for Hall of Fame consideration.
National League Central
Chicago Cubs
The Cubs are a pretty good team on which to be a borderline Hall of Famer (understanding that just being borderline means most of the candidates from any team don’t get in, or wait a long time).
Roger Maris’ autograph, with some St. Louis Cardinals teammates, on a ball belonging to my son Joe.
Both the Cubs and Yankees had an outfielder who had an incredible season in which he set an all-time power record that stood for decades. Each led his league in RBI twice. The Cub led his league in homers more times, but the Yankee had more career homers. The Yankee won two MVP awards; the Cub never did. Both had shortened careers and didn’t reach the career totals that normally get you into the Hall of Fame. Hack Wilson, the Cub, was elected to the Hall of Fame by the Veterans Committee 45 years after his career ended. Roger Maris, the Yankee, is still not in the Hall of Fame 48 years after his career ended.
The 1960s Cubs never won anything. They finished tenth once, ninth once, eighth twice and seventh three times before having their second winning record in 1967 (one of the seventh-place teams finished 82-80). The Cubs finished third in 1967 and ’68. The first year of division play, they had an epic collapse and finished second to the New York Mets. It wasn’t the worst decade a team ever had, and they certainly improved toward the end, but it was an awful decade.
That total doesn’t count Lou Brock, whom the Cubs stupidly traded to the Cardinals for Ernie Broglio in one of baseball’s worst trades ever, before he blossomed into a star (but everyone saw him as a great prospect). And it doesn’t count Robin Roberts, who made his last nine starts for the 1966 Cubs at age 39. And it doesn’t count Richie Ashburn, who had a decent 1960 season for the Cubs at age 33 in 1960 but was pretty bad in 1961 before spending his last year with the hapless 1962 Mets.
Four Hall of Famers played some of their best years with the Cubs of the 1960s. Banks was an automatic Hall of Famer, elected his first year on the ballot. Williams, elected in his sixth year on the ballot, and Jenkins, elected in his third year, were certain Hall of Famers, but Santo was clearly borderline.
And let me be clear: I loved the Cubs in the 1960s. They were my second-favorite team behind the Yankees. My mother grew up in Chicago and we visited my grandmother there several summers, always taking in a Cubs game. Wrigley Field was the first ballpark I visited, and I saw 6-8 games there before I visited my second park. I will weep tears of joy for Mom if the Cubs ever win a World Series.
But I’m talking facts here, not emotion. In that same decade, the Yankees played in five consecutive World Series, winning two of them and taking two more to seven games. That Yankees team had three Hall of Famers: Mickey Mantle, Yogi Berra and Whitey Ford.
The next decade (and the first couple years of the 1980s), the Yankees had a similar stretch, playing in four World Series in six years and winning two, plus winning a fifth division title. That Yankees team had three Hall of Famers, too: Reggie Jackson and Catfish Hunter, both of whom were elected to Cooperstown more for their achievements with the Oakland A’s, and Goose Gossage, who played seven of his 22 years in New York. I don’t count Gaylord Perry, who made eight starts for the 1980 Yankees.
I was glad to see Santo elected to the Hall of Fame. I liked his consistency as a player and loved his goofy enthusiasm as a broadcaster. I admired his courage in living with severe diabetes. But Santo was the definition of a borderline Hall of Fame candidate.
From those Yankees teams of the 1960s and ’70s, Maris, Elston Howard, Ron Guidry, Munson, Tommy John, Sparky Lyle and Graig Nettles were either comparable or clearly better Hall of Fame candidates than Santo. Nettles, in fact, was also a multiple-Gold-Glove third baseman with more homers than Santo in overlapping careers, and a home run title, which Santo never won.
I don’t count Kaat and Tiant, who were borderline Hall of Fame contenders on those Yankee teams, because their Hall of Fame credentials were achieved with other teams.
Santo had the good fortune of playing on a team whose borderline candidates have a better shot at making the Hall of Fame. Everyone loves the Cubbies.
My Bruce Sutter autograph.
This makes it mysterious that Lee Smith, who played eight of his 18 years with the Cubs, has topped 50 percent only once in his 13 years on the writers’ ballot. Writers don’t know what to do with great relievers. Bruce Sutter (Cub on the right side of the Hall of Fame borderline) was elected in his 13th year on the ballot, Goose Gossage (also a Cub, but not for prime years, as Sutter and Smith were) in his ninth year, Rollie Fingers in his second, Dennis Eckersley in his first. (Eck also was a Cub, but as a starter; and his bullpen career was nowhere near borderline.)
All were contemporaries of Smith, and maybe it will be tough to get five relievers from the same era into Cooperstown. But it was the era when closers became dominant and valuable, and, as I documented in yesterday’s post, Smith was as good as any of them, maybe better than some already in Cooperstown.
Smith is unlikely to get elected next year in his final year on the writers’ ballot. But he should be an easy call for a Veterans Committee. He’ll eventually illustrate my point about Cubs having a good shot as borderline Hall of Fame candidates, but he’s already taken longer than he should.
Sammy Sosa is the only other ex-Cub of note I can think of with a shot at the Hall of Fame, and he’s in the PED group. He’s so closely linked with McGwire that I think they might go in together if either of them ever gets a Cooperstown moment.
My Rick Reuschel autograph
I address Buckner under the Dodgers, though he spend eight years each with the Dodgers and Cubs. Mark Grace has no chance and didn’t get a second year on the ballot. Rick Reuschel (a Yankee briefly in 1981) won 214 games but doesn’t have enough other Hall of Fame credentials. He didn’t get even 1 percent of the writers’ vote his only year on the ballot.
St. Louis Cardinals
McGwire‘s shot at the Hall of Fame depends on two things:
Whether Hall of Fame voters ever forgive any PED users at all. Unless they do, he has no shot.
If voters speculate about the careers players would have had without juicing, McGwire probably loses out. Clemens and Barry Bonds appeared headed to sure Hall of Fame induction before juicing, so they could make it someday. But McGwire had leveled off after a couple strong early years, so he’s not going to Cooperstown unless voters eventually forgive drug use entirely and just honor the careers that players had.
Curt Flood should be a Hall of Famer. He had seven straight Gold Gloves, two 200-hit seasons and six seasons hitting better than .300 when he refused to accept a trade to the Phillies. That’s an unfinished Hall of Fame career, but a worthy start. His courage in challenging baseball’s control of players’ careers started baseball down the path to free agency. He should be in Cooperstown for the combination of what he did on the field and what he tried to do in the courtroom. Flood is another example (like Maris and Gibson) of the Hall of Fame voters’ stubborn refusal to consider a player’s actual fame at all.
Flood was a better centerfielder than Jim Edmonds, who did play a full career without topping 2,000 hits or 400 homers. He was on the ballot for the first time this year, not even reaching the 5 percent level needed to stay on the ballot. Willie McGee, another Cardinal centerfielder, lasted two years on the ballot and won’t make the Hall of Fame.
Ken Boyer is the very definition of a borderline Hall of Fame candidate. He played only 15 years, not long enough to cross the performance thresholds than ensure enshrinement. But he was one of the best third basemen of his day, not quite Brooks Robinson or Eddie Mathews, but comparable to Santo, who eventually made it. Boyer was an MVP (for a World Series champ), an RBI champ, a five-time Gold Glove winner and six-time All-Star. But he was rejected in 2014 by the Golden Era Committee. Santo and Boyer both played 15-year careers, with closely similar career numbers across the board. Santo’s career totals are a little better, Boyer’s peak a little better, with post-season success Santo never had a shot at. But Hall of Fame voters value career totals more than peak and don’t value post-season at all. Still, I see Boyer getting in someday.
Ted Simmons wasn’t a good enough catcher or batter to make the Hall of Fame. Longevity might have given him a long shot, but he got only one year on the writers’ ballot. As an indication of how Hall of Fame voters love Cardinals, he actually made the 2014 Expansion Era ballot over several more worthy candidates, but he didn’t get elected.
Tim McCarver is a more famous Cardinals catcher, who won the Hall of Fame’s Ford Frick Award in 2012, despite being perhaps the most annoying, inane broadcaster in baseball history. Despite some longevity as a catcher (a 21-year career spanning four decades), McCarver has no shot at making the Hall of Fame as a player. But the Frick Award reflects the Hall of Fame’s consistent preference for longevity over quality. Simmons had eight All-Star seasons to only two for McCarver, and Simmons’ batting achievements far surpassed McCarver.
I dealt with Hernandez under the Mets, Lee Smith under the Cubs and Reggie Smith under the Dodgers.
Cincinnati Reds
Among borderline Reds contenders, Davey Concepcion may have the best shot, as the greatest shortstop of his era, but he fell short on the 2013 Expansion Era ballot. Ted Kluszewski, Vada Pinson, Ken Griffey Sr. (who spent a few years as a Yankee), George Foster, Randy Myers and perhaps a few more, if they were even borderline, clearly fell on the wrong side of the border.
Lou Piniella had a respectable career as a player (playing his best years for the Yankees) and an even better career as a manager (winning a World Series with the Reds). I’d call him not even a borderline contender for the Hall of Fame as a player, but definitely borderline as a manager. Given the Expansion Era Committee’s ability to consider combined careers, he has a shot.
Pittsburgh Pirates
I wouldn’t complain if Dick Groat someday is a Golden Era Committee selection to the Hall of Fame, but I don’t expect him to get in.
Roy Face lasted 15 years on the writers’ ballot, so I suppose he might make it one day, if the Golden Era Committee starts considering relievers of that time. His 18-1 season in 1959 is his best credential and probably not enough to get him in.
The Pirates’ best two other borderline candidates may be kept out because of recreational drug use:
Bill Madlock won four batting titles and hit .305 for his career, which would put him in Cooperstown for sure, even though he fell short of the long-career totals normally required. But he was involved in the Pirates’ drug scandal of the 1980s. I compared him to white borderline Hall of Famers in October. He was better than them, but I doubt he’ll ever get his Cooperstown moment.
Dave Parker is more in the category of Gooden and Strawberry, a player who appeared Cooperstown-bound early in his career, but declined as he became addicted to cocaine and fell short of the usual statistical standards. He ended up closer to Hall of Fame standards than Strawberry and about as close as Gooden. But in all cases, their deliberate waste of potential will keep them from ever getting the good-will bump that sometimes pushes a player like Santo onto the Cooperstown side of the border. I was surprised that Parker even made the 2013 Expansion Era Committee ballot, but he didn’t come close to election.
And, if you think a player who receives less than 10 percent of the writers’ vote isn’t really a borderline Hall of Fame contender, consider the Pirates’ Bill Mazeroski. He didn’t top 10 percent until his sixth year on the ballot and peaked at 42 percent his final year on the writers’ ballot. But he was elected in 2001 by the Veterans Committee.
Milwaukee Brewers
I discuss Sheffield elsewhere, but the Brewers were the first of his many teams.
I mentioned Simmons in the Cardinals section.
Cecil Cooper is the only other Brewer I can think of with a shot at Cooperstown. But it’s a long shot. He received no votes his only year on the ballot.
N.L. West
Los Angeles Dodgers
The Dodgers contend with the Tigers for second place behind the Yankees among Hall of Fame contenders.
From their 1950s champions, Gil Hodges got Golden Era Committee consideration in 2014, but was rejected. Especially given the explicit instructions that a managerial career can be considered along with the playing career, the manager of the 1969 Miracle Mets and a slugging and fielding star of the 1950s Dodgers who was an eight-time All-Star might finally make it into the Hall of Fame.
The Gold Glove started in 1957, a decade into his career, or Hodges might have won 10-12 in a row, rather than just the first three. But first-base Gold Gloves mean nothing for Hall of Fame selection. Hernandez won 11 and Mattingly nine, and neither is in Cooperstown. In fact, Eddie Murray (with three) is the only first-base Gold Glover in the Hall of Fame.
From the 1960s Dodgers champions, Maury Wills never got the credit he deserved from Cooperstown for transforming the game by the way he stole bases (I compared him last year to white borderline shortstops in the Hall of Fame, and he belongs). Luis Aparicio and Lou Brock are in the Hall of Fame heavily for their base-stealing, but Wills had a more profound effect on how the game was played. He’s one of the most outrageous non-Yankee examples of the Hall of Fame voters’ adamant bias against players who didn’t achieve some elusive standard of longevity and the voters’ stubborn ignoring of actual fame and impact on the game over dry and selective analysis of numbers. He was on the 2014 Golden Era Committee ballot, so he’s getting consideration. But the committee rejected all 10 candidates.
I doubt that Tommy Davis, a two-time RBI champ and offensive star of the Dodgers’ 1960s dynasty, makes it to Cooperstown. He wouldn’t be an awful Veterans Committee choice someday, but Wills and the others turned down in 2014 were better.
Tommy John deserves his place in Cooperstown as much for his Dodger play as for the great seasons he gave the Yankees. And his comeback from Tommy John surgery was as a Dodger. But he was snubbed by the Expansion Era Committee in 2014. He’s gracious enough, though, to visit the Hall of Fame as a guest.
In the same era, it’s kind of surprising, considering the hype they received when they played, that no one from the Dodgers’ fabled infield that stayed together through the 1970s has made it to Cooperstown, and most aren’t even borderline contenders. Bill Russell (three times an All-Star) wasn’t even close to a borderline Hall of Famer. Ron Cey (six straight All-Star selections) and Davey Lopes (four straight) were perhaps within sight of the borderline, but neither has a reasonable case for Cooperstown. Steve Garvey (10 All-Star selections, including eight in a row) appears likely to be a choice someday, but he fell short on the 2014 Expansion Era Committee ballot.
With 2,715 hits, Buckner, a Dodger outfielder in the 1970s, came tantalizingly close to the magical 3,000-hit mark that assures election for players without drug or gambling issues. But he really had no shot at 3,000. Buckner retired at age 40 after the 1990 season, but had only eight hits that year. He hadn’t topped 100 hits since 1987, so he really wasn’t within reach.
Buckner finished in the territory where some players make the Hall of Fame, but others don’t. Lou Gehrig had only six more hits than Buckner, but he had the record for grand slams and that consecutive game streak. And a Triple Crown. Just four hits behind Buckner in all-time hits is Billy Williams, who, like Buckner, won a batting championship for the Cubs. Williams and Gehrig both hit more than 400 homers, more than twice as many as Buckner.
Rusty Staub, just one hit ahead of Buckner, and Dave Parker, three hits behind, are more comparable to Buckner, and neither is in the Hall of Fame.
Buckner hit .289, drove in 100 runs three times, topped 200 hits twice, won a batting championship, all credentials that push him solidly into the borderline area, but not across the line. He was an All-Star only once. It’s not the World Series groundball that’s keeping Buckner out of the Hall of Fame.
Reggie Smith is another borderline contender from the 1970s Dodgers, but didn’t get even 1 percent of the vote his only year on the ballot.
More recently, Fernando Valenzuela and Orel Hershiser were two of the best pitchers of the 1980s, but haven’t come close in Hall of Fame voting.
Even with six All-Star selections and a Cy Young Award, Valenzuela won only 173 games, not enough to meet the Hall’s longevity standard, unless tragedy cuts your career short. He lasted only two years on the ballot. But he was incredibly good for several years and Fernandomania was a level of fame that I could see an Expansion Era Committee rewarding someday. But, as I’ve noted in the cases of Roger Maris, Tommy John and Kirk Gibson, Hall of Fame voters rarely care about actual fame.
Hershiser also won a Cy Young and also spent only two years on the Hall of Fame ballot. But he won 204 games and broke Don Drysdale’s scoreless-innings streak. I think Hershiser has a better shot than Fernando of winning an Expansion Era Committee nod someday.
I discussed Kirk Gibson under the Tigers, but his most famous moment, and his MVP trophy, came as a Dodger.
The Dodgers are yet another team where Sheffield merits a mention.
San Francisco Giants
Hall of Fame voters have been kind to Giants through the years. The most notable Giant contenders are both named Bonds.
Barry Bonds, like Clemens and Rose, doesn’t belong in this discussion of borderline contenders. Read about him in the Scoundrels Committee post.
Bobby Bonds is absolutely a borderline contender, though. He played only 14 seasons (one as a Yankee) and never reached Hall of Fame standards for career stats. But he was the best (until his son came along) at combining power with speed.
His five seasons combining 30 steals with 30 homers were three more than the centerfielder he succeeded and could otherwise never measure up to, Willie Mays. And those don’t include two seasons when Bonds hit 26 homers and stole more than 40 bases. Barry Bonds is the only player who has matched his father’s five 30-30 seasons.
With 461 career steals, Bobby Bonds is only 51st all-time, which won’t get you into Cooperstown. But no one in the top 50 in stolen bases had over 300 homers (except Barry). Bobby Bonds had 332.
I would not be surprised if a Veterans Committee someday recognized Bobby Bonds’ combination of speed and power, matched only by his son.
Other borderline Giants have little shot at the Hall of Fame. I’d be surprised if Jeff Kent, Kuenn, Chili Davis or Darrell Evans ever get elected. Will Clark and Jack Clark didn’t really approach Hall of Fame standards for first basemen. In their own era, Mattingly and Hernandez were clearly better, and neither of them is in Cooperstown yet. Bobby Murcer, the Yankee centerfielder traded for Bobby Bonds in 1974, was an All-Star for the Giants and reached borderline territory, but lasted only a year on the writers’ ballot.
San Diego Padres
For an expansion team that’s played in only two World Series, the Padres have an amazing number of no-doubt Hall of Famers. Only Tony Gwynn played his whole career in San Diego, but a slew of Hall of Famers played significant years for the Padres: Ozzie Smith, Dave Winfield, Rollie Fingers, Goose Gossage, Gaylord Perry, Rickey Henderson, Roberto Alomar, Willie McCovey. There wasn’t a cameo in the bunch. Perry won a Cy Young for the Padres. All but Henderson and McCovey were All-Stars as Padres. Henderson stole 66 bases in less than two full seasons and McCovey had two 20-homer seasons, both past their primes, but still contributing.
By contrast, the Royals were an expansion team the same year, have had a more successful history (winning two World Series, playing in four and winning more division titles). But the Royals have only George Brett in the Hall of Fame, plus end-of-career bows from Perry (four wins for KC), Harmon Killebrew (14 homers) and Orlando Cepeda (one homer).
Despite all their certain Hall of Famers, the Padres have few borderline contenders. Randy Jones won a Cy Young in 1976 and finished second the year before, but he pitched only 10 years and finished with a record of 100-123. He got no votes and won’t get future consideration.
Ken Caminiti won an MVP (even Gwynn never did that; Caminiti is the only Padre MVP), but his career fell far short of Cooperstown standards (didn’t reach 2,000 hits, 300 homers or 1,000 RBI). And if he were close, his drug use would keep him from getting in.
As noted earlier, Kevin Brown and Sheffield have little or no Hall of Fame shot.
Nettles should be in the Hall, but mostly for his Yankee play, and I doubt he’ll ever make it. Garvey, a member of that 1984 Padres World Series team along with Nettles and Gossage, is probably the borderline Padre with the best shot at eventual enshrinement.
Trevor Hoffman was on the ballot for the first time this year and got 67.3 percent of the writers’ vote. He’s not borderline. In another year or two, he’ll add to the ranks of sure-thing Hall of Famers from the Padres.
And I don’t think that’s likely to change for a while. Larry Walker had a similar career to Orlando Cepeda, a Veterans Committee selection. But Walker hasn’t reached 25 percent in the writers’ vote in his five years on the ballot (15.5 percent this year). I don’t think his stats will ever have the value for Hall of Fame voters that Cepeda’s did. I don’t think Walker was ever suspected as a steroid user, but he played in that era, and offensive stats from the 1990s simply don’t carry as much weight as similar stats from other eras. Add a second discount for the Coors Field effect, and I don’t think Walker will make it. But a three-time batting champ who also had a homer crown, seven Gold Gloves and an MVP could be attractive someday to an Veterans Committee.
Andres Galarraga actually surpassed Walker in career homers, hits and RBI (though he had lower batting, on-base and slugging averages). Galarraga led the league once in batting and homers and twice in RBI and won two Gold Gloves. And he returned from cancer treatment to become an All-Star again. I could argue that he should have as good a shot at the Hall of Fame as Walker, but his achievements also received the Coors Field discount, and he lasted only one year on the ballot.
Todd Helton might be the first Rockie to make the Hall of Fame. But he’ll be a borderline contender at best, and I don’t see him overcoming the Coors Field discount on borderline stats.
Arizona Diamondbacks
Luis Gonzalez racked up some good numbers, but they didn’t stand out in an era of inflated power numbers. He didn’t reach 1 percent of the writers’ vote his only year on the ballot.
Schilling is the classic profile of a pitcher who’s certain to make the Hall of Fame but has to spend a few years on the ballot. His 216 wins are low for a Hall of Famer, just seven wins more than Don Drysdale, who was elected in his 10th year on the ballot.
Schilling won 20 games three times and Drysdale did it twice. But Drysdale won a Cy Young Award and Schilling never did. Schilling finished second three times, twice to teammate Randy Johnson. Drysdale also pitched in tandem with a much greater teammate.
Schilling has been on the ballot only four years, reaching his highest level, 52.3 percent this year. Someday, he will make the Hall of Fame. His post-season prowess (11-2, co-MVP of the 2001 World Series, plus the “bloody sock” game) will count in his selection more than post-season performance will ever count for a Yankee.
But he’ll have to wait. And here’s why:
Pitchers with careers like his always have to wait.
Politics aside, Schilling is widely regarded as a jerk, so no one’s going to vote for him earlier than they would have for Drysdale or a similar pitcher.
As non-baseball negative matters go, his government-funded business failure, bordering on a scam and certainly countering his political bombast, is a way bigger deal than his conservative politics, but probably a tiny factor, if at all.
Schilling’s work as an ESPN commentator doesn’t help him one bit. Every time he opens his mouth or tweets, he reminds you of his arrogance, without impressing you one whit with his knowledge. That shouldn’t keep him out of the Hall of Fame, but it’s not going to hurry things up.
On the other hand, people of all political beliefs, certainly every father, cheered how Schilling stood up for his daughter. His outspoken nature is part of the package with Schilling and it’s not all working against him, if that counts at all, in Hall of Fame voting.
Yes, Schilling will certainly have his day at Cooperstown. But you have to be a Diamondbacks, Phillies or Red Sox fan to be bothered that he’ll have to wait a few years.
Yankees’ borderline candidates
The Tigers have 13 borderline candidates who haven’t made the Hall of Fame: Sheffield, Morris, Fielder, Gibson, Trammell, Whitaker, Evans, Tanana, Lolich, Cash, Freehan, Kuenn and Colavito.
The Dodgers are one behind with a dozen: Sheffield, Gibson, Kevin Brown, Hershiser, Valenzuela, Tommy John, Garvey, Buckner, Reggie Smith, Tommy Davis, Wills and Hodges. If you think Lopes or Cey are borderline, the Dodgers might be tied or ahead, but I don’t count them.
I’m not saying those 23 borderline contenders (Gibson and Sheffield played for both) will make it. I’d be surprised if more than seven make it. (I’d guess Morris, Trammell, Whitaker, John, Garvey, Wills and Hodges. Maybe Hershiser.) Borderline contenders don’t make it more often than they do, and take a long time to get there.
My Thurman Munson card
We can argue whether this is an illustration of the fact that the Yankees have produced (or acquired) more great players than other teams, or whether it’s evidence of anti-Yankee bias. It’s probably both. But the Yankees have more valid borderline Hall of Fame contenders than the Tigers and Dodgers combined:
Bernie Williams, Mattingly, John, Ron Guidry, Munson, Nettles, Maris, Elston Howard and Allie Reynolds all have solid Hall of Fame cases. They were among the best of their eras at their positions, match up well with contemporaries in the Hall of Fame and/or others at their positions in the Hall of Fame. And at least John, Maris and Reynolds have unique achievements that add to their fame. All but Mattingly have championship credentials and extensive post-season play (and Donnie Baseball excelled in his only post-season series). These nine Yankees absolutely belong in Cooperstown (and at least two or three will make it eventually).
My Dodger and Tiger lists included players like Sheffield, Brown, Gibson, Morris and Evans whose Hall of Fame credentials included achievements with other teams. So the Yankee list needs to include at least Sheffield, Brown, Mussina, Wells, Cone, Raines, Gooden, Strawberry, Baylor, Tiant and Bobby Bonds. This group is more borderline than those above, but I expect two or three will make it to Cooperstown eventually. Raines looks almost certain. Mussina probably has the next-best shot.
That brings us to 20 borderline Yankee Hall of Fame candidates, but we’re not done yet.
We need to count Yankees who clearly fell short of Hall of Fame standards, but had careers comparable to the borderline contenders I named from other teams: Fielder, Ken Griffey Sr., Lyle, Rogers, Randolph, Murcer, Mel Stottlemyre.
If Piniella ever makes Cooperstown on his combined managing and playing careers, both included important years as a Yankee. He would go in more as a manager than a player, so I’m not counting him here, but he deserves mention.
Even if you dispute a few of these choices (and if you do that, the Dodger and Tiger totals could start dropping, too, as we’d eliminate their most marginal contenders), the Yankees have about 25 or more borderline candidates.
I don’t count Lee Smith, Kaat or Burdette, whose Yankee appearances were just cameos.
If the Yankees had way more Hall of Famers than any other team, this huge lead in borderline contenders might just reflect their huge lead in world championships, the fact that they’ve been the best team in history by far and have had more great players than anyone else.
But you know what? The Yankees don’t even have the most Hall of Famers. Only 19 Hall of Fame players were primarily Yankees, fewer than their 27 world championships (more than double any other team’s total). The list of Hall of Famers linked above will also include seven Yankee managers and executives. The Giants, with eight world championships (three of them too recent to have any players in the Hall of Fame) have 19 Hall of Fame players from their time in New York and another five from San Francisco. And several other teams are in the teens, much closer to the Yankees in Hall of Fame players than in world championships.
Few things are more predictable than which borderline Hall of Fame contenders will finally get their calls from Cooperstown, but I feel confident saying this: Contenders who didn’t play home games in Yankee Stadium will continue to fare better than those who did.
Source note: Unless noted otherwise, statistics cited here come from Baseball-Reference.com.
Who’d I miss? Borderline Hall of Fame candidates are about as subjective as anything you can discuss in baseball. Whom did I miss here?
Style note: The Hall of Fame has had various committees and rules through the years to elect players who were passed over by the Baseball Writers Association of America as well as umpires, managers, executives and other baseball pioneers. I am referring to them all in this series as the Veterans Committee unless the specific context demands reference to specific committee such as the current era committees. Baseball-Reference.com has a detailed history of the various committees.
I remember my amusement in 1998 when sports writers and broadcasters expressed wonder at the Yankees’ dominance without any certain Hall of Famers in their prime.
In retrospect, everyone sees what I thought was pretty clear then: Derek Jeter, 24, and Mariano Rivera, 29, were early in careers that would make each a Hall of Fame lock if they stayed healthy and kept playing well. Each was completing just his third full year, so it was early to proclaim either bound for Cooperstown. But they were moving swiftly along the Hall of Fame path.
I wasn’t blogging at the time, so I scoffed only privately at the suggestion that this was a great team bereft of Hall of Famers. I might have bored a few friends or family members with my seemingly premature predictions of Cooperstown enshrinement. Now, Jeter and Rivera are universally seen as certain first-ballot winners.
In ’98, both were already playing like Hall of Famers. Rivera completed the second of 11 seasons with an ERA under 2.00. Jeter had the first of eight seasons with 200 or more hits. Looking back, we can say absolutely that those Yankees had two of the best ever at their roles, playing in their primes.
So what can we project now about the Kansas City Royals of the past two years? Do they have any players on a path that’s likely to end in Cooperstown?
We were arguing at the time, after the Mets fell behind 2-0, over whether the 2015 Royals were better than the 1986 Red Sox, which also fell behind the Mets 2-0 in a World Series. Of course, the Royals quickly won that argument for me.
They can’t win this argument so quickly. I will be surprised if this Royals team doesn’t have at least one Hall of Famer eventually. I expect two. Three wouldn’t surprise me. Four would be only a minor surprise. But we’re decades from knowing (we were at least a decade in ’98 from knowing whether I was right about Jeter and Rivera).
You would have to say there’s a good chance neither of these teams will have anybody elected to the Hall of Fame.
Before I address whether the current Royals can get any (or as many as three) Hall of Famers, I should note one thing Jim and I clarified in subsequent tweets. He was counting Roger Clemens as one of the ’86 Red Sox’ three Hall of Famers (along with Wade Boggs and Jim Rice). Clemens was a Hall of Fame talent having his best year in ’86. But he’s not in Cooperstown because of suspicions about use of performance-enhancing drugs a decade or so later. We agree that you have to count Clemens as a Hall of Famer in measuring the quality of these two teams, whether he gets eventual recognition or not. You would certainly include Pete Rose along with Johnny Bench, Joe Morgan and Tony Pérez in recognizing the all-time-great talent on the Big Red Machine of the 1970s, even though Rose is barred from Cooperstown consideration for betting on baseball when he was a manager in the 1980s.
The fun of the next decade or so will be seeing what becomes of today’s budding stars (from this KC team as well as other promising teams such as this year’s Mets, Cubs, Astros and Blue Jays and the recent Giants dynasty). We can’t know which budding stars will fizzle because the league figures them out or they don’t work hard enough; which will piss away their talent on drugs or other mistakes of life; which will, as Jim noted, surge later in their careers to the level of Hall of Fame consideration; which surged to brief stardom at the right time to be part of a great team but were not that great overall; which will turn a strong start into a Hall of Fame career.
I’ll start with my 2015 predictions (guesses really) for the current Royals, then examine the chances of various team members. First, I must agree that no one on the Royals is anywhere near Hall of Fame consideration. All of these projections are based on rising stars playing at or above their current level of play for another decade or more:
I expect at least one, but not all three, of relief pitcher Wade Davis, starting pitcher Johnny Cueto and first baseman Eric Hosmer to reach the Hall of Fame.
Third baseman Mike Moustakas and starting pitcher Yordano Ventura are unlikely Hall of Famers, but they are young, their careers are off to strong starts, and neither is out of reach if he continues an upward career path.
Alex Gordon is a long shot, having a good career but well short of Hall of Fame standards. Shortstop Alcides Escobar is younger than Gordon but less accomplished. Both need the career surge that Brady said all the Royals would need.
No other Royals have any chance, based on what we’ve seen so far, to make the Hall of Fame.
Salvador Pérez
Brady was specifically dismissive of my claim that Pérez was substantially better by 2015 than ’86 Boston catcher Rich Gedman, a good catcher who made two All-Star teams in a 13-year career and didn’t receive any Hall of Fame votes.
I made the point in October that Pérez is far better than the ’86 Gedman, and won’t repeat the argument today, but will instead expand the comparison to the Mets’ ’86 catcher, Gary Carter, who is in the Hall of Fame.
At age 25 (this year for Pérez, 1985 for Gedman, 1979 for Carter), the three catchers were clearly peers with solid starts to their careers:
Each was already an All-Star.
Each was strong behind the plate.
Pérez had played five seasons, the other two six.
All had two to four seasons catching 100 games or more.
Each had topped 20 homers in a season (Carter reaching 31).
They had similar batting averages, ranging from .267 to .279.
Same with slugging percentages, ranging from .431 to .450.
Their career doubles totals were tightly bunched, ranging from 102 to 110.
If they all turned 25 in the same season, which one would you say was bound for the Hall of Fame? The one with the highest slugging percentage (Gedman)? The one with the most homers and RBI (Carter)? The one with the highest batting average (Pérez)?
We know what happened to Carter after age 25: He played 13 more seasons, 100 or more games in 10 of them. Nine of those seasons he was as an All-Star. At age 32, his eighth-inning sacrifice fly sent Game Six of the ’86 World Series into extra innings and his two-out, 10th-inning single, trailing 5-3, started the rally that and Mets fans remember so fondly (and Red Sox fans so bitterly). Carter wound up in Cooperstown in 2003, his sixth year on the ballot.
We know what happened to Gedman after age 25: He became a platoon player, then a backup, and played in more than 100 games only the season he was 26 (1986).
We don’t know what will happen to Pérez after age 25.
Carter probably had the best career of the three by age 25. He started at age 21 and had played more than 100 games more than either Gedman or Pérez. So all of Carter’s career totals were better. But when they played full seasons, all three catchers’ performances were comparable, but not yet dominant. None of them had a 100-RBI season (Carter, with 84, had the highest total). Carter also had the best season for homers, 31. Gedman and Carter both tied for the most runs in a season by 86. Pérez had the most hits in a season, 150, and the highest season batting average, .292.
Gedman made one All-Star team by age 25, Carter two and Pérez three. Carter didn’t win the first of his three Gold Gloves until he was 26. Pérez won his third this season. Gedman never won a Gold Glove.
You could argue, as Jim does, that Gedman was better than Pérez: His on-base and slugging percentages were higher, and his batting average just a point lower. But it’s a weak argument. Though Gedman had six seasons in the big leagues by age 25, to only five for Pérez, the Royal catcher became a full-time player faster and played more games, getting more hits, runs, RBI and homers.
I’d project Pérez to have a career more like Carter than Gedman. But you never know until the career unfolds.
Carter was a fun comparison because the Royals were playing the Mets in this year’s World Series and because of Jim’s and my banter about the ’86 Mets and Red Sox. But to truly understand Pérez’s chances, let’s compare him to all Hall of Fame catchers by age 25.
First, we can dismiss the six catchers elected to the Hall of Fame by Veterans Committees, because Pérez is far better at age 25 than any of them:
Roger Bresnahan didn’t play more than 116 games in any season by age 25. Pérez already has three seasons catching 137 or more games. In his full 17-year career, Bresnahan didn’t match Pérez’s career bests already for hits, homers and RBI in a season. And both have career batting averages of .279. Only once did Bresnahan catch 139 games in a season, a figure Pérez has already surpassed twice.
Ray Schalk played more than Bresnahan by age 25, but his most games caught in a season by then were 139. But again, he doesn’t even approach Pérez’s offensive performance. Here’s a fun fact: Pérez is really slow, with just two career steals (though he’s never been caught). Schalk stole 15 bases at age 22 in 1915, but he was thrown out 18 times. So Pérez probably hurt his team less on the bases.
Ernie Lombardi didn’t play more than 132 games in a season his whole career, and he didn’t reach that level until age 26. He played only three seasons by age 25, and none of his offensive totals approached Pérez’s, though his batting average was better.
Rick Ferrell also had played only three seasons by age 25. But take his whole career, and he never matched Pérez’s single-season bests for hits, homers and RBI. His most games caught in a season were 137 at age 27 in 1933.
Buck Ewing and Deacon White were 19th-century catchers whose achievements by age 25 don’t nearly match up with Pérez’s, but they are hardly comparable because of shorter seasons. Ewing caught no more than 80 games in a season by that age, White no more than 56.
Because Negro League seasons and stats were not comparable to major league, I also won’t compare Pérez to the early careers of Josh Gibson, Biz Mackey or Louis Santop. Roy Campanella, who had a Hall of Fame career in the majors, also doesn’t compare, because he started in the Negro Leagues and didn’t reach the “majors” until age 26.
For a more detailed comparison of Pérez to Hall of Fame catchers, I compared him to the seven catchers elected by the Baseball Writers Association of America who played in the majors by age 25: Carter, Johnny Bench, Yogi Berra, Mickey Cochrane, Bill Dickey, Carlton Fisk and Gabby Hartnett. And I threw in Mike Piazza, who got 70 percent of the writers’ vote last year and looks likely to make it in the next year or two.
I ranked those nine catchers, including Pérez, by career stats by age 25. The comparisons are pretty fair. Pérez, Berra, Dickey, Fisk and Hartnett all came up to the majors at age 21. Cochrane was 22 and Piazza 23 when they made the big leagues. Bench was 19 and Carter 20. Pérez ranks third among the nine in career hits and doubles by age 25, behind only Carter and Bench. He’s fourth in homers and fifth in RBI. He’s sixth in runs and batting average, last in on-base percentage and slugging percentage.
Most of the Hall of Fame catchers played before the Gold Gloves started in 1957, and some before the All-Star game started in 1933. But only Bench, with six All-Star games and six Gold Gloves by age 25, had more of either than Pérez, with three of each. In fact, Bench, with 10 Gold Gloves, is the only Hall of Fame catcher with more for his career than Pérez has already. Carter won three in his whole career and Fisk and Piazza never won one. (The other Hall of Fame catchers played all or most of their careers before Gold Gloves were awarded.)
Bench won two MVP awards by age 25 and Cochrane won one. Piazza and Fisk were Rookies of the Year. Pérez did not win either of those awards, but is the only one of the group to be a World Series MVP by age 25 (Bench won that award in 1976 at age 28).
Clearly Pérez belongs in that group and is well on the way to the Hall of Fame if he continues to play well and stay healthy for another decade. He needs no surge, just time.
Iván Rodríguez deserves mention here. Because of his steroid use, he may not make the Hall of Fame or may wait a long time before voters figure out whether or when to elect suspected users of performance-enhancing drugs. But he, like Bench, had six All-Star appearances, six Gold Gloves and superior offensive numbers to Pérez by age 25.
Among active catchers, Joe Mauer, Yadier Molina and Buster Posey are probably the other catchers with the best shots at Cooperstown. Mauer caught 139 games at age 25, the most he has caught in a season. But he won two batting titles and was a two-time All-Star by age 25. Molina won his first Gold Glove (of eight in a row) at age 25. His offensive numbers all lagged well behind Pérez. Posey was Rookie of the Year at age 23, but his numbers were still well below Pérez by age 24. But his MVP season at 25, with a batting championship and his first All-Star appearance pulled him even with, if not ahead of, Pérez by 25.
However you compare Pérez to Hall of Famers or the best contemporary catchers or the best catchers by age 25, he holds his own, better than most, but not the best. It’s way too early to stamp his ticket to Cooperstown, but he’s absolutely one of the best 25-year-old catchers in baseball history and well on his way to a Hall of Fame career.
Wade Davis
It’s hard to find a Hall of Fame reliever who’s comparable to Davis. Five Hall of Famers were relievers all or nearly all of their careers: Hoyt Wilhelm, Bruce Sutter, Goose Gossage and Rollie Fingers. John Smoltz was probably a Hall of Famer just as a starter, but his three years as a dominant closer following Tommy John surgery made him a first-ballot Hall of Famer.
Dennis Eckersley is in the Hall of Fame as a reliever, but, like Davis, began his career as a starter. Eck had a better starting career than Davis, pitching a solid decade-plus as a starter and winning 20 games in 1978. Davis was a mediocre starter for three seasons, so that’s a clear advantage for Eck.
But in their late blooming as relievers, Davis has five significant advantages over Eck:
Davis moved to the Royals’ bullpen at age 28, four years younger than Eck was when he became a reliever.
Davis moved to the closer role at age 29, three years younger than Eck.
Davis was immediately dominant as a reliever and as a closer. Eck had a decent first year in the bullpen in 1987 at age 32, but he didn’t become a dominant closer until he was 33.
Davis’ first two seasons as a reliever were more dominant than all but one season of Eck’s career. Davis has not matched the brilliant 0.61 ERA that Eck posted in 1990, but his ERAs of 1.00 in 2014 and 0.94 in 2015 are better than any other Eck seasons. Eck also never matched the 13.4 strikeouts per nine innings that Davis got in 2014.
Eck had a 3.00 ERA in 28 post-season appearances. His most famous post-season pitch was the homer that Kirk Gibson hit, barely able to hobble around the base path. Davis’ post-season ERA in 23 appearances is 0.84. And he hasn’t given up a run in seven World Series games. Eck was 0-2 with a 5.79 World Series ERA in six games.
A Rivera-Davis comparison also is noteworthy. Rivera didn’t become a big leaguer until age 25, a dominant reliever until 26 or a closer until age 27. He was ahead of Davis at age 29, but Rivera never had full-season ERAs as low as Davis’ for the past two years. If a starter-turned-reliever is ahead of Eckersley and not far behind Rivera, he certainly has a shot at the Hall of Fame.
I place Pérez ahead of Davis as a Hall of Fame prospect because he is further along the Hall of Fame path earlier in his career. But Davis is more dominant, and I could see him appearing the Royals’ strongest Cooperstown prospect after a full year or two as closer.
Also, relievers such as Willie Hernandez, Eric Gagne, Sparky Lyle, Royal Dan Quisenberry, Lee Smith, Bobby Thigpen and Dave Righetti appeared much closer to the Hall of Fame at age 29 than Davis does, and none of them has reached the Hall of Fame. Few catchers ever were as good as Pérez by age 25, and they’re almost all in Cooperstown, if eligible.
Eric Hosmer
Hosmer, who turned 26 during the post-season, doesn’t compare as well to all Hall of Fame first basemen at the same age as Pérez does to the greatest catchers.
But Hosmer compares well to some Hall of Fame first basemen. He ended the regular season at age 25 with substantially more runs, hits, homers and RBI by than Tony Pérez at the same age, and he already has three Gold Gloves, an honor Pérez never won. Willie McCovey didn’t start playing like a Hall of Famer until age 25, when he won the first of his three home run titles, with 44 in 1963. Willie Stargell also started hitting like a Hall of Famer at age 25, his first season with 100 RBI. Through age 24, Hosmer was definitely better than McCovey and Stargell.
Returning to Jim Brady’s comparison to the ’86 Red Sox, let’s compare Hosmer to Dwight Evans. They don’t play the same position, but both are Gold Glove defenders at positions where championship teams need offensive production. And Jim mentioned them both in tweets, Hosmer dismissively and Evans as a Hall of Fame contender:
You lost me when you claimed Perez and Hosmer were clearly better than Gedman and Buckner. At best, it’s a wash. https://t.co/huiba3Rwjo
We do agree that Dwight Evans was a Hall of Fame contender. But he wasn’t close in the writers’ voting, lasting just three years on the ballot and peaking at 10 percent of the vote.
Evans was one of the best defensive right fielders ever. Hall of Famers Roberto Clemente and Al Kaline and certain Hall of Famer Ichiro Suzuki are the only right fielders with more Gold Gloves than Evans’ eight.
Hosmer is a long way from eight Gold Gloves. But he already has three, two more than Evans did at 25.
But Evans isn’t one of those rare defensive specialists who make the Hall of Fame with weak offensive credentials. He wasn’t fully developed yet as a hitter at age 25 (probably like many of the Royals). Still, Evans ended his career with 2,446 hits, 385 homers and 1,384 RBI. If Veterans Committees eventually start adding older players of his era to the Hall of Fame, I think he’s got a reasonable case.
But at age 25, Hosmer is way closer to Cooperstown.
Do you remember the “barring career surge” in Jim’s dismissal of the Royals’ chances of landing anyone in the Hall of Fame, like such a surge is an outlandish possibility? Well, Evans gets discussed as a Hall of Fame contender only because of his career surge.
Evans came up to the majors at 20, Hosmer at 21. But Hosmer became a full-time player immediately, playing over 150 games three of his first five seasons, while Evans only once topped 140. Because Hosmer has played 728 games and Evans had played in only 617, comparisons of career totals aren’t fair (and Hosmer wins them all).
So let’s compare their best figures for any full season through age 25, to see who was blossoming more into a star:
Batting average: Hosmer .302, Evans .287
On-base: Tied at .363
Slugging: Hosmer .465, Evans .456
Homers: Hosmer 19, Evans 17
RBI: Hosmer 93, Evans 70
Hits: Hosmer 188, Evans 130
Runs: Hosmer 98, Evans 61
Doubles: Hosmer 35, Evans 34
Walks: Hosmer 61, Evans 57
No one would have forecast Evans as a Hall of Fame contender at age 25. Maybe Hosmer won’t become one. He’s a long way from Cooperstown. That he got a quicker start on the Cooperstown path than Evans, Tony Pérez, McCovey and Stargell, but lags behind Mattingly, Garvey and Hernandez tells you how impossible it is to project Hall of Famers, especially at first base or the outfield, this early in the career.
A catcher doesn’t have to hit career milestones such as 3,000 hits or 500 homers, or put up strings of batting or home run titles to make the Hall of Fame. Outfielders and first basemen need titles or milestones to make the Hall of Fame without a long wait, if ever.
Hosmer clearly has a shot, but he has further to go than Salvador Pérez and is not yet as dominant as Davis.
Johnny Cueto
Starting pitcher might be the toughest position for which to project Hall of Famers. As I noted when Randy Johnson was elected, no one would have projected him for Cooperstown at 29, Cueto‘s age this year. Cueto also is well ahead of Phil Niekro at the same age, but probably not likely to pitch to age 48, like Niekro did.
With a strikeout title last year and two years in the top four for the National League Cy Young, Cueto has a solid start to his career. But he needs to pitch better in his 30s than in his 20s, and that’s unlikely.
But Moose, who broke in at age 22, was more accomplished by age 24 than Boggs, who was a rookie at that age and played only 104 games. Boggs, another of those ’86 Red Sox, won the first of his five batting titles at age 25 and had two 200-hit seasons by age 26, so I’d place him ahead of Moose on the path to Cooperstown at that age. But not that far ahead. Boggs had been an All-Star twice at age 26. Moose was an All-Star for the first time. They’re not comparable as hitters, because Moose hits for power and Boggs was so great at getting on base. But Moose is a far better fielder. And the point is that Boggs was a long way from Cooperstown at age 26. He had almost 2,500 hits still in his future, as well as four more batting championships and 10 All-Star seasons.
Paul Molitor, like Moose, had only one All-Star appearance by age 26, and also didn’t look like he was heading to the Hall of Fame. Moose had better power numbers, Molitor more hits and runs.
Moose has a solid start to his career. Each of those Hall of Fame third basemen made it to Cooperstown primarily for his accomplishments after age 26. Too early to say whether he can match their full careers.
Yordano Ventura
Ventura is only 24, has pitched just two full seasons and has lots of promise. It would be crazy to say he’s headed for Cooperstown, or that he has no shot. He’s a long shot because every player is a long shot this early in his career. He has no Hall of Fame credentials, but he has the talent to have a Hall of Fame career.
He’s not afraid to pitch inside. Like Clemens, he hit nine batters the season he was 24.
Alcides Escobar
I don’t think Escobar will make the Hall of Fame. He’s 28 and just made his first All-Star game and won his first Gold Glove this year. Ozzie Smith had four Gold Gloves and three All-Star appearances by age 28. But Escobar is far superior offensively at this point in his career. Barry Larkin also had four All-Star appearances by age 28 and was a better hitter (though he hadn’t won a Gold Glove yet). Luis Aparicio had five All-Star seasons and seven straight stolen-base titles by age 28. Ernie Banks, Robin Yount, Cal Ripken Jr. and Jeter all were much further down the Cooperstown path at age 28.
At three years older than Perez and Hosmer and two years older than Moose, Escobar does need a career surge to make the Hall of Fame. But he has time.
Alex Gordon
Gordon‘s 31, and I don’t think he’s making the Hall of Fame. Though he has three All-Star seasons and four Gold Gloves, he hasn’t had the kind of offensive performance that gets outfielders into Cooperstown. No seasons with 200 hits, 30 homers or 100 RBI. Only one season hitting over .300. He needs a better career after age 31, and to play for a long time, to have a shot.
Lorenzo Cain
Cain had his first All-Star season this year at age 29. I can think of no Hall of Fame outfielder who had the kind of late-career surge Cain would need to make it to Cooperstown. Hall of Fame outfielders all become stars younger than Cain did.
Most prospects don’t make the Hall of Fame
Any Royals fan knows that making the Hall of Fame is difficult and unlikely. The franchise has been playing baseball since 1969 and Brett is the only person who played primarily for the Royals to make the Hall of Fame. The Mets have played even longer, since 1962, with only Tom Seaver in the Hall of Fame primarily as a Met (Carter played 12 years for the Montreal Expos, only five for the Mets).
Bret Saberhagen won two Cy Young Awards by age 25 and lasted just one year on the baseball writers’ Hall of Fame ballot.
Frank White won eight Gold Gloves but lasted just one year on the writers’ ballot.
Willie Wilson stole 668 bases (12th all-time) and added a batting championship, five seasons leading the league in triples, a Gold Glove and 13 inside-the-park homers. And he lasted only a year on the writers’ ballot.
Steve Busby pitched two no-hitters and had 59 career wins by age 25, and finished his career with 70 wins.
Dan Quisenberry led the American League in saves five out of six seasons and hasn’t made the Hall of Fame. He’s come closest to joining Brett in the Hall of Fame, lasting just a year on the writers’ ballot but getting consideration on the 2013 Expansion Era ballot.
Those ’86 Mets that beat the Red Sox Jim and I were discussing had only one Hall of Famer, Carter.
But two members of that team looked like sure Hall of Famers in 1986: Dwight Gooden, a 21-year-old three-time All-Star, and Darryl Strawberry, a 24-year-old three-time All-Star. Their stories of drug addiction, wasted potential and prison time are well-known, so I won’t bother with them here.
Accurately predicting or dismissing enshrinement for great (or even promising) young players is impossible.
But here’s my call: By 2045, Perez and Davis will have joined Brett in the Hall of Fame. One other 2015 Royal will join them eventually, most likely Hosmer. But the third Hall of Fame Royal (fourth counting Brett), if ever, will be a selection of whatever veterans committees make Hall of Fame selections decades from now.
In a separate post tomorrow, I’ll show how rare Brett’s Royals were in having just one Hall of Famer, and how exceeding rare it is for a team to win a World Series with no Hall of Famers.
I don’t fault anyone who thinks I’m overly optimistic for these Royals, but I was right about Jeter and Rivera and I’m similarly confident now.
Source note: Unless noted otherwise, all statistics in this post come from Baseball-Reference.com.
Wednesday I paid tribute to the amazing career, life and wit of Yogi Berra, who died at age 90. Today I want to honor Berra again by explaining how he anchored a team with, by far, the greatest tradition of catching excellence.
Hall of Fame catchers
Let’s start by comparing teams’ Hall of Fame catchers: Berra and Bill Dickey make the Yankees one of only four teams with two catchers in the Hall of Fame:
Setting aside other Yankee catchers who belong in the Hall of Fame (more on that later), Berra was elected to Cooperstown in his second year of eligibility. Dickey was elected in his ninth year on the ballot. They make the Yankees the only team with two catchers elected by the Baseball Writers Association of America.
They give the Yankees 26 seasons with Hall of Famers doing most of the catching (15 from Dickey and 11 from Berra, who was an outfielder and backup catcher his final four years). Dickey and Berra gave the Yankees Hall of Fame catchers (at least in a part-time role) for a nearly unbroken string from 1929 to 1963.
Dickey spent the 1944-5 seasons in the Navy during World War II, returning in 1946. He caught only 54 games during that season, becoming a player-manager after manager Joe McCarthy resigned, and turning the catching responsibilities over mostly to Aaron Robinson. But Berra debuted that season, catching seven games. In 1947, Robinson caught 74 games and was an All-Star, but the torch was being passed. Berra caught 51 games that season and 71 the next, splitting time that year with Gus Niarhos, then nailed down the full-time job in 1949.
Bill Dickey’s autograph on a baseball my wife’s uncle used to take to Yankee Stadium for autographs in the 1950s.
Between them, Dickey and Berra caught more than 3,400 games for the Yankees (1,708 for Dickey, 1,697 for Berra) from 1928 to 1963, a 36-season span broken only by Dickey’s Navy service. Both men also managed and coached the Yankees (Dickey, in fact, coached Berra in catching skills).
Berra, with 305 homers as a catcher, is fourth in career homers at the position, and Dickey, with 200, is 13th. Berra leads all catchers in career RBI (1,430) and Dickey is eighth at 1,209. Dickey is second to Mickey Cochrane in batting average at .313. They rank fourth and sixth in slugging at .486 (Dickey) and .482 (Berra).
Dickey had 11 All-Star seasons (the game wasn’t played his first four full seasons), Yogi 15 straight All-Star seasons. And, of course, both won strings of championships: 10 World Series titles (five in a row) for Berra and seven (four in a row) for Dickey.
Dickey played his full career for the Yankees. Berra played his last four games (two at catcher) as a player-manager for the Mets in 1965.
Let’s compare the Yankees to the other teams with two Hall of Fame catchers:
Reds
Bench was a first-ballot Hall of Famer, but Lombardi never got more than 16 percent of the writers’ vote and was elected to the Hall of Fame by the Veterans Committee in 1986, 39 years after his career ended.
They combined for 23 years as the Reds’ primary catchers (13 for Bench, who moved to third base his final three years 10 for Lombardi, who also played for three other teams), and 18 All-Star seasons (13 for Bench) as Reds catchers. All those numbers fall short of the Berra-Dickey numbers. Bench, with 1,742 games caught, was a little ahead of the Yankees, but Lombardi played only 1,203 games for the Reds.
Bench was third all-time in homers as a catcher, with 327, and third in RBI, and Lombardi was third (behind Dickey) in batting average. But the Reds didn’t have near the combined high rankings of the Yankee pair.
The Reds won two championships in Bench’s time and one in Lombardi’s, but that’s not even half Dickey’s championship total.
Bench measured up to either of the Yankee catchers, but Lombardi didn’t, and the pair certainly lags behind Berra-Dickey duo. And that’s as close as any team’s pair of Hall of Famers comes.
Personal note: My only trip to the Baseball Hall of Fame was in 1989 for Bench’s induction, keeping a promise to my son, Mike, a huge Bench fan. Someday I’ll write a post about that trip.
Red Sox
Fisk was elected by the writers in his second year on the ballot, same as Berra. Ferrell never got even 1 percent of the writers’ vote and was elected to Cooperstown in 1984, 37 years after his career ended.
Fisk was the Red Sox’ primary catcher for eight seasons, seven All-Star seasons. Ferrell was the Red Sox’ primary catcher only four seasons, three of them as an All-Star. In other words, their Red Sox seasons combined nearly matched Dickey or Berra alone.
White Sox
Fisk played more years with the White Sox, nine years as their primary catcher, but only four All-Star seasons. Schalk, who played before the All-Star Game, played 13 seasons as the White Sox’ primary catcher. He peaked at 45 percent of the writers’ vote and was elected to the Hall of Fame by the Veterans Committee in 1955, 26 years after his career ended.
Fisk is second in career homers by a catcher and ranks high in other batting categories, but with his career split almost evenly between the two Sox teams, he didn’t do nearly as much for either team as Dickey and Berra did for the Yankees. And Schalk doesn’t rank anywhere among the best-hitting catchers.
Dodgers
Campy’s career was shortened on the front end by racial segregation and on the back end by an auto accident that paralyzed him. In between, he gave the Dodgers 10 years as their primary catcher, eight of them in a row as an All-Star. He was elected to the Hall of Fame in his fifth year on the writers’ ballot.
Piazza played five years as the Dodgers’ primary catcher, all of them as an All-Star. He played more for the Mets. He set the record for career homers by a catcher and ranks high in other categories, but most of that hitting wasn’t for the Dodgers. He got 70 percent of the writers’ vote this year, and I expect him to be elected to the Hall of Fame in another year or two.
Campy’s and Piazza’s combined contributions perhaps exceeded Berra’s or Dickey’s but don’t approach the Yankees’ combined achievements.
Giants
Bresnahan played seven seasons for the Giants early in the 20th Century. He caught 974 career games, only once topping 100 games behind the plate in a season.
Ewing was a 19th-century player who never caught 100 games in a season. He also pitched, played the outfield and played every infield position. He caught 636 games in 14 seasons, 11 of them for the Giants.
The Giants’ Hall of Fame catchers don’t nearly compare to Berra and Dickey.
Mets
If we’re going to count Piazza as a likely Hall of Famer, we should note he’ll give the Mets two catchers in Cooperstown. Gary Carter played mostly for the Expos, but caught five years for the Mets, four of them as an All-Star. Add them to Piazza’s eight years for the Mets (six as an All-Star) and their combined Met careers don’t match Dickey or Yogi alone.
By Hall of Famers, the Yankees have a clear advantage in catching tradition over any other team.
Hilldale Daisies/Giants
Hall of Famer Biz Mackey succeeded Hall of Famer Louis Santop for the Negro League team known as the Hilldale Daisies in Santop’s time and Hilldale Giants in Mackey’s. While their Hall of Fame profiles list Hilldale as each catcher’s primary team, Mackey also played for the Philadelphia Stars, Newark Eagles, Indianapolis ABCs and the Baltimore/Washington Elite Giants and Santop also played for the Fort Worth Wonders, Philadelphia Giants, New York Lincoln Giants and Chicago American Giants.
MVP catchers
Three teams got three MVP awards from their Hall of Famers:
Berra was MVP in 1951, ’54 and ’55, giving the Yankees three. Dickey never won an MVP.
Campy won MVP awards in 1951, ’53 and ’55. Piazza was never an MVP.
Bench won two MVP awards and Lombardi one, to give the Reds three MVPs for their catchers.
However, the Yankees had two more MVP catchers: Elston Howard in 1963 and Thurman Munson in 1976. No Red or Dodger pitcher who isn’t in the Hall of Fame won an MVP, so the Yankees have the most MVP awards won by catchers, with five.
Hall of Famer Mickey Cochrane won MVP awards for the A’s and Tigers, but neither team had another Hall of Fame or MVP catcher. Hall of Fame catcher Gabby Hartnett also won an MVP, but he’s the only Cub catcher to win either honor. (More on Cochrane and Hartnett later.)
Adding Posey to the Giants’ combo of Ewing and Bresnahan, they still fall further behind the Yankees’ MVP and Hall of Fame catchers: Berra, Dickey, Howard and Munson. More on the Twins’ and Rangers’ other catchers later.
I’ve already noted that Munson belongs in the Hall of Fame and will make the case in a future post for Howard. But just adding Hall of Famers and MVPs, the Yankees had either a Hall of Famer or a past or future MVP or both behind the plate, at least part-time every year from 1928 to 1979, except for 1968 (the gap between Howard and Munson) and those two years Dickey was in the Navy. Add another 16 All-Star seasons (nine for Howard, seven for Munson) to the 26 for Berra and Dickey, a total of 42 All-Star seasons by four catchers over a 52-year stretch. No team comes close to that.
Borderline Hall of Famers
Beyond the four I’ve already mentioned, Wally Schang (five prime years a Yankee) has stronger case for the Hall of Fame than Schalk from the same era (higher batting, on-base and slugging averages, more homers, hits, runs and RBI.
Jorge Posada had a better career than several Hall of Fame catchers (he hasn’t been retired five years yet, so we don’t know how he’ll do with the writers, but I’m not optimistic). Still, he added another five All-Star season to the Yankees’ total.
No other team had five catchers with five or more All-Star selections. And I can’t think of another franchise with five catchers who had 10-year (or more) runs with the team.
All-Star catchers
Russell Martin spent only two years as a Yankee, but was an All-Star in 2011. Mike Stanley was an All-Star in 1995. Aaron Robinson was an All-Star Berra’s rookie season, 1947. We’re up to 50 All-Star seasons for Yankee catchers.
Other notable Yankee catchers
Ralph Houk, one of many Yankee autographs from the 1950s my wife’s uncle collected on two baseballs that now belong to my sons.
Ralph Houk spent eight years as Berra’s backup, but is more notable for his 20-year managing career, including 11 years with the Yankees, winning the 1961-2 World Series. He had a 1,619-1,531 record, never finishing first again after losing the 1963 World Series. Still, he ranks 18th all-time in wins.
As I mentioned in Wednesday’s post, Johnny Blanchard joined Howard and Berra in 1961 in hitting 20+ homers, all sharing time behind the plate for the Yankees.
Joe Girardi spent four years catching for the Yankees, starting for the 1996 champions before Posada won the starting role. Of course, Girardi has been managing the Yankees since 2008.
Rick Cerone caught seven seasons for the Yankees, just two years catching more than 100 games.
Rick Dempsey was a Yankee backup catcher before becoming the Orioles’ starter for nearly a decade.
None of the teams with two Hall of Famers has enough other catching excellence to push them close to the Yankees. The Dodgers had John Roseboro starting for 10 years (three as an All-Star), Mike Scioscia for a decade and two All-Star selections and Steve Yeager for 14 years without an All-Star appearance (he caught 100 games only five times), plus Martin for five years, including his first two All-Star games. They might have the second-best tradition.
The Giants got a few All-Star seasons from Wes Westrum (two), Benito Santiago (one, plus for with the Padres), Bob Brenly (one), Dick Dietz (one) and Tom Haller (two, plus an All-Star year for the Dodgers). When you add Posey to the two Hall of Famers, the Giants could pass the Dodgers soon, if they haven’t already. But those Hall of Famers are pretty marginal, and the Giants are nowhere near the Yankees.
Other teams with two Hall of Famers had other notable catchers, but nothing approaching the Yankees’ consistency:
Howard spent his final two seasons with the Red Sox and Jason Varitek had three All-Star seasons in his 15-year career in Boston.
Johnny Edwards was a three-time All-Star catcher for the Reds before Bench arrived.
Other teams without two Hall of Fame catchers had decent catching traditions:
Tigers
Mickey Cochrane is the only Tiger catcher in the Hall of Fame, but he’s in the argument for best catcher ever, so he deserves mention here. Add some excellent catching years from:
Bill Freehan (13 seasons as the primary catcher, including 11 All-Star seasons).
Lance Parrish (eight seasons starting for the Tigers, six as an All-Star).
The best four-year stretch of Mickey Tettleton‘s career, including one as an All-Star.
Rudy York was a five-time All-Star for the Yankees, but only one year as a catcher.
The Tigers might pass some of the teams with two Hall of Famers, but not approach the Yankees’ overall greatness at catcher.
Braves
The Boston/Milwaukee/Atlanta Braves have had some excellent catchers, even if none made the Hall of Fame as a player.
Del Crandall was an eight-time All-Star behind the plate for the Milwaukee Braves.
He was followed by Joe Torre, in Cooperstown for his managing career (primarily his Yankee championships). Torre was an All-Star catcher five straight years for the Braves. (In a game at Wrigley Field in the 1960s, I saw Torre make a Charlie Brown-style error on a popup, parking under it for a seemingly easy out, only to have it bounce out of his catcher’s mitt.) Nonetheless, he won a Gold Glove.
McCann also was a six-time All-Star for the Braves before joining the Yankees.
The Braves might have a stronger tradition at catcher than some of the teams with Hall of Fame catchers, but they don’t approach the Yankees’ continued excellence at the position.
Cardinals
The Cardinals also have a strong catching tradition without a Hall of Famer. Walker Cooper, who peaked at 14 percent of the writers’ vote for the Hall of Fame, had his first three All-Star seasons (of 10) as a Cardinal. (Cooper also was an All-Star for the Giants, Reds and Braves.)
Tim McCarver gets overrated as a catcher because of his long broadcasting career (I couldn’t stand him) and because he was part of a Cardinals team that won two World Series and played in a third over a five-year stretch. He played 21 years and was an All-Star twice, but he was a mediocre hitter, with a .271 average and only 95 homers. Still, he’s the only catcher I can think of who led his league in triples, with 13 in 1966. He spent seven years as the Cardinals’ primary catcher, including both All-Star seasons.
Ted Simmons, who overlapped with McCarver, was a better catcher, spending a decade behind the plate for the Cardinals, including six All-Star seasons. Neither Simmons nor McCarver lasted more than a year on the writers’ Hall of Fame ballot.
Darrell Porter wasn’t an All-Star for the Cardinals (he was for the Brewers and Royals), but he was the 1982 World Series MVP. Tony Peña caught four years for the Cardinals, one as an All-Star. Yadier Molina has seven straight All-Star seasons for the Cardinals.
Like the Braves, the Cardinals could surpass some of the teams with Hall of Fame catchers, but they’re nowhere close to the Yankees.
A’s
Cochrane played longer for the A’s than for the Tigers, and Terry Steinbach was a three-time All-Star, but I can’t think of another A’s catcher worth discussing here.
Cubs
The Cubs’ fall-off after Hartnett is pretty dramatic. Probably Jody Davis (six years, two as an All-Star) or Randy Hundley (one All-Star season) would be their second-best catcher.
Rangers
Rodriguez was the best defensive catcher of his time and a good hitter, too. Add him to Jim Sundberg, a two-time All-Star and six-time Gold Glove, and the Rangers have one of the strongest traditions of any expansion team.
Senators/Twins
Ferrell played eight seasons for the first Senators, which later moved to Minnesota and became the Twins. Mauer has given the Twins six All-Star seasons, but hasn’t caught 100 games since 2010. Butch Wynegar, an All-Star only his first two years, is the only other notable Twins or Senators catcher I can think of. Wynegar started for the Yankees in 1984-85.
Pirates
The Pirates have had several good catchers: the best five-year run of Peña’s career (four seasons as an All-Star); an eight-year run (with three All-Star seasons) by Manny Sanguillen; four All-Star seasons (in six years) for Smoky Burgess; three All-Star seasons in Jason Kendall‘s nine-year run. But not a great catcher in the bunch.
Phillies
Bob Boone was probably the best of a batch of good-fielding, weak-hitting Phillies catchers. He spent nine years in Philadelphia, including their first World Series title. Three time he was a an All-Star for the Phillies, and he ranks third in most games at catcher, behind Rodriguez and Fisk. But the greatest pitcher Boone caught, Steve Carlton, actually preferred pitching to McCarver, who extended his career by being Carlton’s personal catcher.
Carlos Ruiz has given the Phillies a solid decade behind the plate (a record four no-hitters caught), but only one All-Star appearance and a weak bat. Mike Lieberthal played longer (but not as long as a starter), with two All-Star appearances.
Homestead Grays
Of course, the Negro Leagues disbanded a decade or so after the “major” leagues integrated, so any Negro League catching tradition ended more than half a century ago. They are at a similar disadvantage comparing to the Yankees as any of the expansion teams. But, since I’m discussing the greatest catchers ever, I want to mention that Josh Gibson, perhaps the greatest catcher ever, played for the Homestead Grays.
No one’s close
The Orioles/Browns and Indians barely have any catchers worth mentioning here. And I’ve already mentioned the most notable expansion catching traditions. The Yankees have been the best and it’s not even close.
Yogi didn’t start the Yankees’ catching tradition. That started with Dickey, unless you want to go back to Schang. Simply put, no other team approaches that half-century of almost unbroken greatness from Dickey to Berra to Howard to Munson. The 1980s and early ’90s were a significant gap, but Posada’s decade-plus of excellence ran up the score on every other franchise when it came to catching excellence.
And of them all, Yogi was the best.
Ranking the best Yankee catchers
Update: I initially wrote this without ranking the Yankee catchers. But I’m starting the 2016 season with a series ranking the the top five Yankees at each position. Since this post covered the Yankee catchers, except for the rankings, I’m adding rankings:
Berra
Dickey
Munson
Howard
Posada
Berra and Dickey are easy calls. The other three spots were tougher and could have been shuffled differently. Howard and Munson were MVPs. I gave Munson the advantage based on three straight seasons hitting .300 with 100 or more RBI (Howard never drove in 100 runs), more games caught and his stellar .357 post-season hitting (Howard hit .246). Posada played longer than Munson and Howard, and had better career hitting numbers. But they edged him, in my view, on peak performance, All-Star selections, defense and World Series hitting.
Notes
Style note: The Hall of Fame has had various committees and rules through the years to elect players who were passed over by the Baseball Writers Association of America as well as umpires, managers, executives and other baseball pioneers. I refer to them all as the Veterans Committee unless the specific context demands reference to specific committee such as the current era committees. Baseball-Reference.com has a detailed history of the various committees.
Source note: Unless otherwise noted, all statistics cited here come from Baseball-Reference.com.
Correction invitation: I welcome you to point out any errors I missed in my fact-checking: stephenbuttry (at) gmail (dot) com. Or, if you just want to argue about my opinions, that’s fine, too.
Starting pitchers: My series on Yankee starting pitchers will resume Monday with a post on Yankee pitchers who belong in the Hall of Fame. Other posts in the series:
As I noted in a post about Roger Maris, the actual name of the museum where Smoltz will be enshrined is the Hall of Fame.
I often use stats to bolster arguments for inclusion in the Hall (and documented two years ago that John’s achievements were statistically better than most of the pitchers already in the Hall of Fame). But stats shouldn’t be the only factor in Hall of Fame selection. I do think fame should be a factor in considering a player. Or change the freakin’ name.
Here’s how famous Tommy John is: They named a surgery for him. I can think of only one other player whose name is similarly famous in baseball and medicine, and he is in the Hall of Fame: Lou Gehrig.
As I noted in another earlier post, if your name means comebackfor dozens of pitchers who have suffered injuries that formerly would have ended their careers, you’re exceptionally famous.
Before Smoltz injured his elbow, he was nowhere near reaching the Hall of Fame (but well on his way). He had pitched 12 major league seasons, won a Cy Young Award in his only 20-win season and won 157 games. He had led the league once in wins, twice in strikeouts and never in ERA.
That’s not going to get you into Cooperstown, or even keep you on the ballot long. He had a sterling 12-4 post-season record, but as I’ve noted before, if post-season performance counted for anything in Hall of Fame voting, we’d see more Yankees there (see my posts about Bernie Williams or about the Yankees being only third in Hall of Fame).
When he injured his arm, Smoltz didn’t have nearly as strong a case for the Hall of Fame as Jack Morris, who outlasted Smoltz in the one of the best-pitched World Series games ever and one of the best Game Sevens ever.
Morris will make the Hall of Fame someday, but the writers never gave him more than 68 percent of the vote (you need 75 percent to be a Hall of Famer) in his 15 years on the ballot. (Players snubbed by the writers get a later chance through committees honoring players from different eras.)
But Tommy John Surgery (that link is to WebMD, not Wikipedia, but the surgery has its own Wikipedia page, too) saved Smoltz’s career. He came back from the surgery (and more than a year off) to pitch 11 more years. He was the National League’s best closer for a three-year stretch, leading the league in saves with 55 in 2002 and following that up the next year with 45 saves and a 1.12 ERA.
Then Smoltz did something that’s unique in baseball history: He went from being a dominant starter to being a dominant reliever to being a dominant starter again. Only Dennis Eckersley can approach Smoltz’s achievement in both roles, but Eck was never as good a starter as Smoltz and once he went to the bullpen, he stayed there. And Eck never faced as serious an injury.
Smoltz had three more strong years as a starter, including leading the NL with 16 wins in 2006.
He was a four-time All-Star before Tommy John Surgery and a four-time All-Star after. And he’s rightly a first-ballot Hall of Famer. And the pitcher who pioneered that comeback trail never reached 32 percent of the vote from the biased buffoons in the Baseball Writers Association of America.
Another Wikipedia page lists more than 70 players (more than 60 of them pitchers) who have undergone Tommy John Surgery. Smoltz is the only Hall of Famer in the group, but some other pitchers have returned from the surgery to continue impressive careers: A.J. Burnett (who had three good years for the Yankees and won a 2009 World Series game, all post-surgery), Chris Carpenter, John Lackey, Joe Nathan, Adam Wainwright, Jake Westbrook, Kerry Wood (who had a brief Yankee stint).
Brian Wilson‘s brilliant career was bracketed by two Tommy John Surgeries: his first injury ended his college career at Louisiana State University (where I now teach) and he saved 172 major league games and became a World Series hero before his second injury. He returned after the second surgery and had a decent year and a half for the Dodgers, but was unable to return to his dominant form.
It’s too early to know how great young pitchers such as Matt Harvey, Yankee Ivan Nova, Joakim Soria, Stephen Strasburg and Jordan Zimmermann will be, but clearly some of the best arms in the game have been repaired by Tommy John Surgery. If you’ve enjoyed watching baseball in the past 40 years, you’ve probably been a fan of multiple players who followed John’s comeback trail (or tried to; it’s still a serious injury and a difficult trail and not everyone comes back).
Tommy John was not the surgeon who saved these careers (the late Frank Jobe developed the surgery). But he was the first pitcher to take the risk of letting a doctor transplant a tendon from his right wrist into his left elbow, creating a new ligament to replace the one he had torn.
Before John, that injury meant your career was over. And John had a promising one. He blew out his elbow at 31 in his 12th season. He had led the American league in shutouts with the White Sox in 1966 and ’67 and made his first All-Star team in ’68. With a 16-7 record for the Dodgers in 1973, he led the National League with a .696 winning percentage.
In 1974, John was one of the most dominant pitchers in the NL (his 13-3 record again gave him the league’s best winning percentage again that season) when he tore a ligament in his elbow, pitching against the Montreal Expos on July 17. The Dodgers would make it to the World Series without him. At that point, he had only 124 wins and no shot at the Hall of Fame. He appeared to be another good pitcher whose career ended with a torn elbow ligament.
But Tommy John didn’t give up. He underwent groundbreaking surgery, persevered through a daunting rehabilitation and blazed the trail for John Smoltz and the others who would follow.
After sitting out a season and a half to rehabilitate his new elbow, John was an even better pitcher than before. He won 20 games three times after surgery (Smoltz only did that once in his whole career) and reached 288 career wins, plus six more in the post-season. The only pitcher being kept out of the Hall of Fame with more wins is Roger Clemens, and that’s because of suspicion about performance-enhancing drugs.
Even sitting out the whole 1975 season, John pitched for 26 years. That rebuilt elbow pitched until he was 46 (I saw his last win against the Royals in 1989).
I think John will make the Hall of Fame, maybe the next time the Expansion Era Committee considers players spurned by the writers. The era committees include Hall of Fame members. I hope Smoltz gets a seat on the Expansion Era Committee. Who better to make the case for the guy who paved the path to Cooperstown for Smoltz?
(The Expansion Era Committee may eventually correct some of the worst anti-Yankee bias of the writers. Most of the egregious writer snubs of the era were Yankees: Maris, Ron Guidry, Thurman Munson and, of course, John. Several others, including Morris, deserve consideration. But no eligible player left out of the Hall from that era has a stronger case than John, and I expect at least him and Maris to make it someday.)
Tommy John belongs in the Hall of Fame based on his achievements on the pitching mound. And he certainly belongs in the Hall based on his fame.
The opening night of the World Series seems like a good time to consider Jorge Posada‘s case for his election to the Baseball Hall of Fame.
Posada, starting catcher for four World Series champions, belongs in the Hall of Fame, but I don’t think he will get there. As Yankee catchers go, he doesn’t have as strong a case as Thurman Munson. Just as the baseball writers kept Munson out, they will keep Posada out.
Of the “core four” Yankees from Posada’s time, Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter are automatic Hall of Famers whose credentials are so strong they overcome the anti-Yankee bias. Posada is more like Andy Pettitte, worthy of the Hall of Fame, but likely to fall short.
Posada has not retired yet, but it’s likely we’ve seen most, if not all, of his outstanding years, so I think we can evaluate him as a Hall of Fame contender.
For catchers, you have to throw out the milestones that play into consideration for players at other positions. No catcher has hit 500 homers or 3,000 hits. (You can’t count Craig Biggio, who moved to second base before he had 500 hits). So it’s more an assessment of the total package that matters. You really have to measure a catcher against his contemporaries and/or against other Hall of Famers.
Congratulations to Andre Dawson on election to the Hall of Fame. More on that later. With today’s announcement of this year’s Hall of Fame, I want to write about one of the most outrageous failures by the narrow-minded baseball writers who choose their favorite players for the Hall of Fame.
The Hall of Fame should include the greatest players at each position. And you can’t come up with an accurate list of the greatest catchers ever that doesn’t include Thurman Munson.
I should state at the outset that I am not arguing for any breaks for Munson based on his shortened career. He would have accumulated greater offensive statistics if he hadn’t died in a 1979 plane crash. But the Munson argument for the Hall of Fame is not based on what might have been. He belongs in the Hall of Fame based on the career he had.
Here’s my all-time Yankees World Series team (based solely on World Series performance for the Yankees):
Catcher: Yogi Berra, all-time World Series leader in at-bats (259), hits (71) and doubles (10, tied with Frankie Frisch), third in homers with 12, second in RBI with 39. Won nine World Series, played in 14, managed in terrific seven-game series lost to Bob Gibson, Lou Brock and a great Cardinals team. His great numbers weren’t just from longevity. He had great Series performances, most notably three homers and 10 RBI and catching Don Larson’s perfect game in 1956. I have two balls with Berra’s signature, one as Yogi and one, when he was younger, as “Larry Berra.”Read the rest of this entry »
Player A and Player B were as alike as any two great players in baseball history. I defy you to find two with more identical careers.
Player A played 12 full seasons in the major leagues, Player B played parts of 14 seasons, but one was a late cup-of-coffee call-up and he came up to stay partway through the next season. Another season was shortened by injury. They ended up playing nearly an identical number of games, 1,783 and 1,785. Their at-bats were pretty close, too, 7,003 to 7,244.
Their careers overlapped almost entirely, retiring in the same season, so you don’t need any adjustments to compare performance from different eras. They played in the same league and were universally regarded as two of the best players in the league for most of their careers. Each of them played his entire career for one team and each played in a park that mostly helped his hitting. Read the rest of this entry »
I will be blogging through the 2009 post-season and beyond, some observations about the Yankees and my lifelong loyalty to them.
A particular interest is the consistency with which deserving Yankees get the shaft when it comes to Hall of Fame selections. You will get to read about how Roger Maris, Don Mattingly, Ron Guidry, Thurman Munson, Tommy John, Allie Reynolds and Graig Nettles belong in the Hall of Fame. In each case, it’s not even close. These guys are Hall of Famers, kept out of Cooperstown by the voters’ anti-Yankee bias (bolstered by some other ridiculous voter biases, which I will address).
And, of course, I’ll blog about this year’s edition of the Yankees, back in post-season play after a one-year absence.
Hated Yankees 