1. Spliced Careers
I would hate to know how many hours I have spent in my life creating mythical careers for baseball players. I am certain that it comes to work-years, although whether I invested more time in this than Jack Kerouac did, I do not know. I have hundreds of ways of creating mythical careers, and I am deeply ashamed of the time that I waste doing this, but I have to explain it to get to something I wanted to say, so. . .
One simple way to create a mythical career is to splice together the careers of two actual players. The trick here is to find two players whose abilities are so nearly identical that one may simply take the first part of one career and the second part of the other, and when you put them together it makes sense. For example, Alex Johnson and Hal McRae:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
21
|
43
|
109
|
18
|
33
|
7
|
1
|
4
|
18
|
6
|
26
|
1
|
2
|
.303
|
.495
|
.345
|
.840
|
|
22
|
97
|
262
|
27
|
77
|
9
|
3
|
8
|
28
|
15
|
60
|
4
|
4
|
.294
|
.443
|
.337
|
.780
|
|
23
|
25
|
86
|
7
|
16
|
0
|
1
|
2
|
6
|
5
|
18
|
1
|
1
|
.186
|
.279
|
.231
|
.510
|
|
24
|
81
|
175
|
20
|
39
|
9
|
2
|
1
|
12
|
9
|
26
|
6
|
3
|
.223
|
.314
|
.271
|
.586
|
|
25
|
149
|
603
|
79
|
188
|
32
|
6
|
2
|
58
|
26
|
71
|
16
|
6
|
.312
|
.395
|
.342
|
.737
|
|
26
|
139
|
523
|
86
|
165
|
18
|
4
|
17
|
88
|
25
|
69
|
11
|
8
|
.315
|
.463
|
.350
|
.813
|
|
27
|
156
|
614
|
85
|
202
|
26
|
6
|
14
|
86
|
35
|
68
|
17
|
2
|
.329
|
.459
|
.370
|
.830
|
|
28
|
148
|
539
|
71
|
167
|
36
|
4
|
15
|
88
|
54
|
68
|
11
|
8
|
.310
|
.475
|
.375
|
.850
|
|
29
|
126
|
480
|
58
|
147
|
38
|
6
|
5
|
71
|
47
|
47
|
11
|
8
|
.306
|
.442
|
.366
|
.808
|
|
30
|
149
|
527
|
75
|
175
|
34
|
5
|
8
|
73
|
64
|
43
|
22
|
12
|
.332
|
.461
|
.407
|
.868
|
|
31
|
162
|
641
|
104
|
191
|
54
|
11
|
21
|
92
|
59
|
43
|
18
|
14
|
.298
|
.515
|
.366
|
.881
|
|
32
|
156
|
623
|
90
|
170
|
39
|
5
|
16
|
72
|
51
|
62
|
17
|
8
|
.273
|
.429
|
.329
|
.757
|
|
33
|
101
|
393
|
55
|
113
|
32
|
4
|
10
|
74
|
38
|
46
|
5
|
4
|
.288
|
.466
|
.351
|
.816
|
|
34
|
124
|
489
|
73
|
145
|
39
|
5
|
14
|
83
|
29
|
56
|
10
|
2
|
.297
|
.483
|
.342
|
.825
|
|
35
|
101
|
389
|
38
|
106
|
23
|
2
|
7
|
36
|
34
|
33
|
3
|
4
|
.272
|
.396
|
.330
|
.726
|
|
36
|
159
|
613
|
91
|
189
|
46
|
8
|
27
|
133
|
55
|
61
|
4
|
4
|
.308
|
.542
|
.369
|
.910
|
|
37
|
157
|
589
|
84
|
183
|
41
|
6
|
12
|
82
|
50
|
68
|
2
|
3
|
.311
|
.462
|
.372
|
.833
|
|
38
|
106
|
317
|
30
|
96
|
13
|
4
|
3
|
42
|
34
|
47
|
0
|
3
|
.303
|
.397
|
.363
|
.760
|
|
39
|
112
|
320
|
41
|
83
|
19
|
0
|
14
|
70
|
44
|
45
|
0
|
1
|
.259
|
.450
|
.349
|
.799
|
|
40
|
112
|
278
|
22
|
70
|
14
|
0
|
7
|
37
|
18
|
39
|
0
|
0
|
.252
|
.378
|
.298
|
.675
|
|
41
|
18
|
32
|
5
|
10
|
3
|
0
|
1
|
9
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
.313
|
.500
|
.405
|
.905
|
|
|
2421
|
8602
|
1159
|
2565
|
532
|
83
|
208
|
1258
|
703
|
997
|
159
|
97
|
.298
|
.452
|
.356
|
.808
|
That’s actually Alex Johnson’s career up to the age of 27, and Hal McRae from age 28 on, but their skills were so nearly the same that, when you splice them together, you get what looks like it could be one player. McRae and Johnson were teammates with the Reds in 1968. Either or both of them could have or should have been regulars on the Big Red Machine, but it didn’t work out for either of them. Johnson hit .315 with 17 homers for the Reds in 1969, was traded to the Angels and won the American League batting title in 1970, hitting .329 with 14 homers, 86 RBI.
He lost most of the rest of his career, however, with what could charitably be called mental health issues. I guess it would be uncharitable to call them anything else. He couldn’t handle the stresses of being a major league player, and needed some serious psychiatric care in 1971, due to incidents involving not merely bringing a gun into the locker room, but threatening to use it on a teammate. And he liked the teammate; it was one of his best friends. He lost all of his good years from age 27 on.
McRae, on the other hand, got a late start in his career due a very serious broken ankle. He should have been a major league regular from 1970 on, but, due to the injury, didn’t really get his career started until 1974, when he was 28 years old. The Reds traded them both to the American League for pitchers. These are the consecutive seasons which form the splice:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
27
|
156
|
614
|
85
|
202
|
26
|
6
|
14
|
86
|
35
|
68
|
17
|
2
|
.329
|
.459
|
.370
|
.830
|
|
28
|
148
|
539
|
71
|
167
|
36
|
4
|
15
|
88
|
54
|
68
|
11
|
8
|
.310
|
.475
|
.375
|
.850
|
Can’t tell, can you? That’s what’s called a “simple splice”. Another simple splice is Rocky Colavito up to age 31 and Hank Sauer from ages 32 on:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
21
|
5
|
9
|
3
|
4
|
2
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
0
|
0
|
.444
|
.667
|
.444
|
1.111
|
|
22
|
101
|
322
|
55
|
89
|
11
|
4
|
21
|
65
|
49
|
46
|
0
|
1
|
.276
|
.531
|
.372
|
.903
|
|
23
|
134
|
461
|
66
|
116
|
26
|
0
|
25
|
84
|
71
|
80
|
1
|
6
|
.252
|
.471
|
.348
|
.819
|
|
24
|
143
|
489
|
80
|
148
|
26
|
3
|
41
|
113
|
84
|
89
|
0
|
2
|
.303
|
.620
|
.405
|
1.024
|
|
25
|
154
|
588
|
90
|
151
|
24
|
0
|
42
|
111
|
71
|
86
|
3
|
3
|
.257
|
.512
|
.337
|
.849
|
|
26
|
145
|
555
|
67
|
138
|
18
|
1
|
35
|
87
|
53
|
80
|
3
|
6
|
.249
|
.474
|
.317
|
.791
|
|
27
|
163
|
583
|
129
|
169
|
30
|
2
|
45
|
140
|
113
|
75
|
1
|
2
|
.290
|
.580
|
.402
|
.982
|
|
28
|
161
|
601
|
90
|
164
|
30
|
2
|
37
|
112
|
96
|
68
|
2
|
0
|
.273
|
.514
|
.371
|
.885
|
|
29
|
160
|
597
|
91
|
162
|
29
|
2
|
22
|
91
|
84
|
78
|
0
|
0
|
.271
|
.437
|
.358
|
.795
|
|
30
|
160
|
588
|
89
|
161
|
31
|
2
|
34
|
102
|
83
|
56
|
3
|
1
|
.274
|
.507
|
.366
|
.873
|
|
31
|
162
|
592
|
92
|
170
|
25
|
2
|
26
|
108
|
93
|
63
|
1
|
1
|
.287
|
.468
|
.383
|
.851
|
|
32
|
138
|
509
|
81
|
140
|
23
|
1
|
31
|
99
|
55
|
66
|
0
|
0
|
.275
|
.507
|
.349
|
.856
|
|
33
|
145
|
540
|
85
|
148
|
32
|
2
|
32
|
103
|
60
|
67
|
1
|
0
|
.274
|
.519
|
.350
|
.868
|
|
34
|
141
|
525
|
77
|
138
|
19
|
4
|
30
|
89
|
45
|
77
|
2
|
1
|
.263
|
.486
|
.325
|
.810
|
|
35
|
151
|
567
|
89
|
153
|
31
|
3
|
37
|
121
|
77
|
92
|
1
|
2
|
.270
|
.531
|
.361
|
.892
|
|
36
|
108
|
395
|
61
|
104
|
16
|
5
|
19
|
60
|
50
|
56
|
0
|
0
|
.263
|
.473
|
.349
|
.822
|
|
37
|
142
|
520
|
98
|
150
|
18
|
1
|
41
|
103
|
70
|
68
|
2
|
1
|
.288
|
.563
|
.375
|
.938
|
|
38
|
79
|
261
|
29
|
55
|
8
|
1
|
12
|
28
|
26
|
47
|
0
|
0
|
.211
|
.387
|
.286
|
.673
|
|
39
|
75
|
151
|
11
|
45
|
4
|
0
|
5
|
24
|
25
|
31
|
0
|
0
|
.298
|
.424
|
.403
|
.827
|
|
40
|
127
|
378
|
46
|
98
|
14
|
1
|
26
|
76
|
49
|
59
|
1
|
0
|
.259
|
.508
|
.343
|
.851
|
|
41
|
88
|
236
|
27
|
59
|
8
|
0
|
12
|
46
|
35
|
37
|
0
|
0
|
.250
|
.436
|
.354
|
.790
|
|
42
|
13
|
15
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
7
|
0
|
0
|
.067
|
.267
|
.067
|
.333
|
|
|
2695
|
9482
|
1457
|
2563
|
425
|
36
|
574
|
1763
|
1289
|
1330
|
21
|
26
|
.270
|
.504
|
.362
|
.866
|
Rocky Colavito is not a Hall of Famer and Hank Sauer is not a Hall of Famer, but Rocky Sauer, he’s a Hall of Famer. Alex McRae might be a Hall of Famer; not sure. Sandy Vance, on the other hand, is two Hall of Famers:
|
AGE
|
W
|
L
|
PCT
|
G
|
GS
|
CG
|
|
IP
|
H
|
R
|
ER
|
SO
|
BB
|
ERA
|
|
19
|
2
|
2
|
.500
|
12
|
5
|
2
|
|
42
|
33
|
15
|
14
|
30
|
28
|
3.00
|
|
20
|
2
|
4
|
.333
|
16
|
10
|
0
|
|
59
|
66
|
37
|
32
|
30
|
29
|
4.88
|
|
21
|
5
|
4
|
.556
|
34
|
13
|
2
|
|
104
|
83
|
49
|
45
|
122
|
51
|
3.89
|
|
22
|
11
|
11
|
.500
|
40
|
26
|
5
|
|
159
|
132
|
89
|
79
|
131
|
105
|
4.47
|
|
23
|
8
|
6
|
.571
|
35
|
23
|
6
|
|
153
|
136
|
74
|
69
|
173
|
92
|
4.06
|
|
24
|
8
|
13
|
.381
|
37
|
26
|
7
|
|
175
|
133
|
83
|
76
|
197
|
100
|
3.91
|
|
25
|
18
|
13
|
.581
|
42
|
35
|
15
|
|
256
|
212
|
117
|
100
|
269
|
96
|
3.52
|
|
26
|
14
|
7
|
.667
|
28
|
26
|
11
|
|
184
|
134
|
61
|
52
|
216
|
57
|
2.54
|
|
27
|
25
|
5
|
.833
|
40
|
40
|
20
|
|
311
|
214
|
68
|
65
|
306
|
58
|
1.88
|
|
28
|
19
|
5
|
.792
|
29
|
28
|
15
|
|
223
|
154
|
49
|
43
|
223
|
53
|
1.74
|
|
29
|
26
|
8
|
.765
|
43
|
41
|
27
|
|
336
|
216
|
90
|
76
|
382
|
71
|
2.04
|
|
30
|
27
|
9
|
.750
|
41
|
41
|
27
|
|
323
|
241
|
74
|
62
|
317
|
77
|
1.73
|
|
31
|
18
|
12
|
.600
|
36
|
30
|
16
|
|
245.2
|
259
|
122
|
101
|
134
|
94
|
3.70
|
|
32
|
18
|
15
|
.545
|
37
|
35
|
21
|
|
280
|
263
|
127
|
109
|
197
|
100
|
3.50
|
|
33
|
28
|
6
|
.824
|
35
|
34
|
30
|
|
308.1
|
238
|
89
|
74
|
262
|
77
|
2.16
|
|
34
|
22
|
9
|
.710
|
31
|
31
|
26
|
|
265.1
|
247
|
115
|
104
|
221
|
66
|
3.53
|
|
35
|
9
|
10
|
.474
|
24
|
22
|
12
|
|
169
|
172
|
80
|
73
|
140
|
58
|
3.89
|
|
36
|
16
|
15
|
.516
|
34
|
32
|
25
|
|
273.1
|
242
|
98
|
82
|
184
|
69
|
2.70
|
|
37
|
22
|
10
|
.688
|
38
|
32
|
24
|
|
280.1
|
226
|
79
|
65
|
200
|
72
|
2.09
|
|
38
|
14
|
13
|
.519
|
31
|
26
|
17
|
|
231.1
|
244
|
110
|
100
|
126
|
47
|
3.89
|
|
39
|
17
|
15
|
.531
|
35
|
31
|
20
|
|
258.2
|
241
|
97
|
75
|
173
|
55
|
2.61
|
|
40
|
11
|
13
|
.458
|
30
|
29
|
12
|
|
218.2
|
221
|
99
|
82
|
150
|
53
|
3.38
|
|
41
|
12
|
11
|
.522
|
27
|
24
|
9
|
|
175.2
|
171
|
90
|
82
|
103
|
57
|
4.20
|
|
42
|
6
|
2
|
.750
|
28
|
11
|
2
|
|
99
|
105
|
42
|
39
|
67
|
28
|
3.55
|
|
43
|
1
|
3
|
.250
|
25
|
6
|
1
|
|
77
|
90
|
47
|
39
|
42
|
25
|
4.56
|
|
44
|
3
|
2
|
.600
|
20
|
0
|
0
|
|
51
|
55
|
29
|
25
|
28
|
16
|
4.41
|
|
|
362
|
223
|
.619
|
828
|
657
|
352
|
|
5258
|
4528
|
2030
|
1763
|
4423
|
1634
|
3.02
|
I think it was Sandy Vance who suggested this nonsense, actually. Dazzy Vance and Sandy Koufax were both Dodgers, and are both Hall of Famers. In 1970 the Dodgers came up with a good-looking rookie pitcher whose name was Sandy Vance. After his first six starts he was 4-1 with a 2.18 ERA, a bit of a sensation. Somebody—I think it was Jim Murray—pointed out that his name was put together from the Dodgers’ two greatest pitchers, and it occurred to me that, since Koufax retired at age 30 and Vance’ career didn’t really begin until he was 31, one could put together the two careers into one—and Vance’s 1924 MVP season (age 33) looks for all the world like a Koufax season.
Simple splices are hard to do, because there aren’t that many combinations of players who
1) Have essentially identical skill sets, and
2) Have careers that fit together like a tongue and groove.
Easier to do, as a rule, are mixed-year splices, or what I call “Best Ball” careers. Like Boog Powell and Norm Cash:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
Avg
|
OBA
|
SPct
|
OPS
|
|
19
|
4
|
13
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
2
|
0
|
0
|
.077
|
.077
|
.077
|
.154
|
|
20
|
124
|
400
|
44
|
97
|
13
|
2
|
15
|
53
|
38
|
79
|
1
|
1
|
.242
|
.304
|
.387
|
.691
|
|
21
|
140
|
491
|
67
|
130
|
22
|
2
|
25
|
82
|
49
|
87
|
1
|
2
|
.265
|
.317
|
.433
|
.750
|
|
22
|
134
|
424
|
74
|
123
|
17
|
0
|
39
|
99
|
76
|
91
|
0
|
0
|
.290
|
.345
|
.488
|
.833
|
|
23
|
144
|
472
|
54
|
117
|
20
|
2
|
17
|
72
|
71
|
93
|
1
|
1
|
.248
|
.345
|
.467
|
.812
|
|
24
|
140
|
491
|
78
|
141
|
18
|
0
|
34
|
109
|
67
|
125
|
0
|
4
|
.287
|
.351
|
.481
|
.832
|
|
25
|
121
|
353
|
64
|
101
|
16
|
3
|
18
|
63
|
65
|
58
|
4
|
2
|
.286
|
.393
|
.469
|
.862
|
|
26
|
159
|
535
|
119
|
193
|
22
|
8
|
41
|
132
|
124
|
85
|
11
|
5
|
.361
|
.444
|
.572
|
1.016
|
|
27
|
152
|
533
|
83
|
162
|
25
|
0
|
37
|
121
|
72
|
76
|
1
|
1
|
.304
|
.351
|
.469
|
.820
|
|
28
|
154
|
526
|
82
|
156
|
28
|
0
|
35
|
114
|
104
|
80
|
1
|
1
|
.297
|
.358
|
.479
|
.837
|
|
29
|
128
|
418
|
59
|
107
|
19
|
0
|
22
|
92
|
82
|
64
|
1
|
0
|
.256
|
.360
|
.477
|
.837
|
|
30
|
142
|
467
|
79
|
124
|
23
|
1
|
30
|
82
|
77
|
62
|
6
|
6
|
.266
|
.397
|
.516
|
.913
|
|
31
|
160
|
603
|
98
|
168
|
18
|
3
|
32
|
93
|
66
|
91
|
2
|
1
|
.279
|
.390
|
.509
|
.899
|
|
32
|
152
|
488
|
64
|
118
|
16
|
5
|
22
|
72
|
81
|
100
|
3
|
2
|
.242
|
.385
|
.500
|
.885
|
|
33
|
134
|
435
|
64
|
129
|
18
|
0
|
27
|
86
|
59
|
72
|
1
|
3
|
.297
|
.363
|
.469
|
.832
|
|
34
|
142
|
483
|
81
|
135
|
15
|
4
|
22
|
74
|
63
|
80
|
2
|
1
|
.280
|
.379
|
.495
|
.875
|
|
35
|
130
|
370
|
58
|
96
|
18
|
2
|
15
|
53
|
72
|
58
|
0
|
1
|
.259
|
.380
|
.491
|
.871
|
|
36
|
135
|
452
|
72
|
128
|
10
|
3
|
32
|
91
|
59
|
86
|
1
|
0
|
.283
|
.379
|
.495
|
.874
|
|
37
|
137
|
440
|
51
|
114
|
16
|
0
|
22
|
61
|
50
|
64
|
0
|
2
|
.259
|
.376
|
.491
|
.867
|
|
38
|
121
|
363
|
51
|
95
|
19
|
0
|
19
|
40
|
47
|
73
|
1
|
0
|
.262
|
.375
|
.490
|
.865
|
|
39
|
53
|
149
|
17
|
34
|
3
|
2
|
7
|
12
|
19
|
30
|
1
|
1
|
.228
|
.374
|
.488
|
.862
|
|
|
2706
|
8906
|
1359
|
2469
|
356
|
37
|
511
|
1602
|
1341
|
1556
|
38
|
34
|
.277
|
.376
|
.498
|
.874
|
Ten of those are Boog Powell seasons, the other eleven are Norm Cash seasons, but, because Cash and Powell’s skills were the same, you can mix and match. Claude Osteen and Curt Simmons:
|
Age
|
W
|
L
|
WPct
|
G
|
GS
|
CG
|
IP
|
H
|
R
|
ER
|
SO
|
BB
|
ERA
|
|
17
|
0
|
0
|
.000
|
3
|
0
|
0
|
4
|
4
|
1
|
1
|
3
|
3
|
2.25
|
|
18
|
1
|
0
|
1.000
|
1
|
1
|
1
|
9
|
5
|
1
|
1
|
9
|
6
|
1.00
|
|
19
|
7
|
13
|
.350
|
31
|
22
|
7
|
170
|
169
|
110
|
92
|
86
|
108
|
4.87
|
|
20
|
4
|
10
|
.286
|
38
|
14
|
2
|
131
|
133
|
72
|
67
|
83
|
55
|
4.60
|
|
21
|
17
|
8
|
.680
|
31
|
27
|
11
|
215
|
178
|
93
|
81
|
146
|
88
|
3.39
|
|
22
|
8
|
13
|
.381
|
28
|
22
|
7
|
150
|
140
|
62
|
61
|
59
|
47
|
3.66
|
|
23
|
14
|
8
|
.636
|
28
|
28
|
15
|
201
|
170
|
72
|
63
|
141
|
70
|
2.82
|
|
24
|
15
|
13
|
.536
|
37
|
36
|
13
|
257
|
256
|
107
|
95
|
133
|
64
|
3.33
|
|
25
|
15
|
15
|
.500
|
40
|
40
|
9
|
287
|
253
|
95
|
89
|
162
|
78
|
2.79
|
|
26
|
17
|
14
|
.548
|
39
|
38
|
8
|
240
|
238
|
92
|
76
|
137
|
65
|
2.85
|
|
27
|
17
|
17
|
.500
|
39
|
39
|
14
|
288
|
298
|
116
|
103
|
152
|
52
|
3.22
|
|
28
|
12
|
11
|
.522
|
32
|
29
|
9
|
212
|
214
|
92
|
81
|
92
|
50
|
3.44
|
|
29
|
20
|
15
|
.571
|
41
|
41
|
16
|
321
|
293
|
103
|
95
|
183
|
74
|
2.66
|
|
30
|
16
|
14
|
.533
|
37
|
37
|
11
|
259
|
280
|
121
|
110
|
114
|
52
|
3.82
|
|
31
|
14
|
11
|
.560
|
38
|
38
|
11
|
259
|
262
|
108
|
101
|
109
|
63
|
3.51
|
|
32
|
20
|
11
|
.645
|
33
|
33
|
14
|
252
|
232
|
82
|
74
|
100
|
69
|
2.64
|
|
33
|
16
|
11
|
.593
|
33
|
33
|
12
|
237
|
227
|
97
|
87
|
86
|
61
|
3.30
|
|
34
|
15
|
9
|
.625
|
32
|
32
|
11
|
233
|
209
|
82
|
64
|
127
|
48
|
2.47
|
|
35
|
18
|
9
|
.667
|
34
|
34
|
12
|
244
|
233
|
106
|
93
|
104
|
49
|
3.43
|
|
36
|
9
|
15
|
.375
|
34
|
32
|
5
|
203
|
229
|
104
|
92
|
96
|
54
|
4.08
|
|
37
|
5
|
8
|
.385
|
29
|
15
|
4
|
111
|
114
|
56
|
52
|
38
|
35
|
4.23
|
|
38
|
5
|
8
|
.385
|
31
|
18
|
4
|
117
|
144
|
65
|
55
|
44
|
32
|
4.23
|
|
|
265
|
233
|
.532
|
689
|
609
|
196
|
4400
|
4281
|
1837
|
1633
|
2204
|
1223
|
3.34
|
About half of those are Claude Osteen seasons and about half are Curt Simmons seasons, but they all look the same, so you can’t tell. Part of what I like about that one is that that’s Osteen at age 17, and Simmons at age 18. I have a million of those, but I’d better move on.
Much more challenging than that is to take two players who basically have nothing in common, and splice them together by finding seasons to bridge the gap. Let’s take Alex Cora and Stan Musial. You would probably imagine that it is totally impossible to splice together Alex Cora and Stan Musial and make something that looks like a real career, but actually, it can be done. What you do is, you take Alex Cora up to some point of his career when he has a pretty good season—let’s say age 26:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
Then you take Stan Musial’s career from, let’s say, age 30 onward:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
30
|
152
|
578
|
124
|
205
|
30
|
12
|
32
|
108
|
98
|
40
|
4
|
5
|
.355
|
.614
|
.449
|
1.063
|
|
31
|
154
|
578
|
105
|
194
|
42
|
6
|
21
|
91
|
96
|
29
|
7
|
7
|
.336
|
.538
|
.432
|
0.97
|
|
32
|
157
|
593
|
127
|
200
|
53
|
9
|
30
|
113
|
105
|
32
|
3
|
4
|
.337
|
.609
|
.437
|
1.046
|
|
33
|
153
|
591
|
120
|
195
|
41
|
9
|
35
|
126
|
103
|
39
|
1
|
7
|
.330
|
.607
|
.428
|
1.036
|
|
34
|
154
|
562
|
97
|
179
|
30
|
5
|
33
|
108
|
80
|
39
|
5
|
4
|
.319
|
.566
|
.408
|
0.974
|
|
35
|
156
|
594
|
87
|
184
|
33
|
6
|
27
|
109
|
75
|
39
|
2
|
0
|
.310
|
.522
|
.386
|
0.908
|
|
36
|
134
|
502
|
82
|
176
|
38
|
3
|
29
|
102
|
66
|
34
|
1
|
1
|
.351
|
.612
|
.422
|
1.034
|
|
37
|
135
|
472
|
64
|
159
|
35
|
2
|
17
|
62
|
72
|
26
|
0
|
0
|
.337
|
.528
|
.423
|
0.95
|
|
38
|
115
|
341
|
37
|
87
|
13
|
2
|
14
|
44
|
60
|
25
|
0
|
2
|
.255
|
.428
|
.364
|
0.792
|
|
39
|
116
|
331
|
49
|
91
|
17
|
1
|
17
|
63
|
41
|
34
|
1
|
1
|
.275
|
.486
|
.354
|
0.841
|
|
40
|
123
|
372
|
46
|
107
|
22
|
4
|
15
|
70
|
52
|
35
|
0
|
0
|
.288
|
.489
|
.371
|
0.86
|
|
41
|
135
|
433
|
57
|
143
|
18
|
1
|
19
|
82
|
64
|
46
|
3
|
0
|
.330
|
.508
|
.416
|
0.924
|
|
42
|
124
|
337
|
34
|
86
|
10
|
2
|
12
|
58
|
35
|
43
|
2
|
0
|
.255
|
.404
|
.325
|
0.728
|
Now we just have to find seasons that will make a transition between Cora at age 26--.291 with 5 homers, 28 RBI—and Musial at age 30--.355 with 32 homers, 108 RBI. The first step is a quarter-step, so we need to find somebody who, at age 27, hit about .307 with about 12 homers, 48 RBI, a .390 on-base percentage and .479 slugging percentage—75% “Cora at age 26”, and 25% “Musial at age 30”. The season that seems to fit the bill is John Valentin in 1994; Valentin, aged 27, hit .316 with 9 homers, 49 RBI. Let’s append that to Cora’s career up to that point:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
|
27
|
84
|
301
|
53
|
95
|
26
|
2
|
9
|
49
|
42
|
38
|
3
|
1
|
.316
|
.505
|
.400
|
.905
|
That’s not unreasonable, is it? Cora, who hit .291 with 5 homers in 258 at bats at age 26, could have hit .316 with 9 homers in 301 at bats at age 27. Or how about George Shuba in 1952:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
|
27
|
94
|
256
|
40
|
78
|
12
|
1
|
9
|
40
|
38
|
29
|
1
|
3
|
.305
|
.465
|
.395
|
.860
|
I think I like that better. OK, we’ll use George Shuba, 1952, as Stan Cora’s age-27 season. A few other 27-year-olds who could fit in there nicely are Curtis Pride in 1996, Hank Edwards in 1946, Tommy Henrich in 1940, Ryan Spilborghs in 2007, and Randy Ready in 1987.
Anyway, our alternate-reality Alex Cora has, at age 27, consolidated his progress of age 26, proving that that’s a real level of ability. Now we have to go from .305 with 9 homers, 40 RBI to .355 with 32 homers, 108 RBI in three steps. The first step should be somewhere around .322 with 17 homers, 63 RBI.
We start by identifying all 28-year-olds in baseball history who hit between .312 and .332. By my count there are exactly 200 of them. Next we focus on those who hit between 13 and 21 homers; by my count that leaves us with 27 players. We’ll look for 53 to 73 RBI; that will leave us with nine players.
Those 9 players, chronologically, are Ron Northey, 1948, Cleon Jones, 1971, Bake McBride, 1977, Cecil Cooper, 1978, David Justice, 1994, Reggie Jefferson, 1997, Jeff Cirillo, 1998, Alex Ochoa, 2000, and Mark Kotsay, 2004. These are their stats:
|
Player
|
YEAR
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
Avg
|
OBA
|
SPct
|
OPS
|
|
Ron Northey
|
1948
|
96
|
246
|
40
|
79
|
10
|
1
|
13
|
64
|
38
|
25
|
0
|
0
|
.321
|
.420
|
.528
|
.949
|
|
Cleon Jones
|
1971
|
136
|
505
|
63
|
161
|
24
|
6
|
14
|
69
|
53
|
87
|
6
|
5
|
.319
|
.382
|
.473
|
.856
|
|
Bake McBride
|
1977
|
128
|
402
|
76
|
127
|
25
|
6
|
15
|
61
|
32
|
44
|
36
|
7
|
.316
|
.364
|
.520
|
.884
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Cecil Cooper
|
1978
|
107
|
407
|
60
|
127
|
23
|
2
|
13
|
54
|
32
|
72
|
3
|
4
|
.312
|
.359
|
.474
|
.833
|
|
David Justice
|
1994
|
104
|
352
|
61
|
110
|
16
|
2
|
19
|
59
|
69
|
45
|
2
|
4
|
.312
|
.427
|
.531
|
.958
|
|
Reggie Jefferson
|
1997
|
136
|
489
|
74
|
156
|
33
|
1
|
13
|
67
|
24
|
93
|
1
|
2
|
.319
|
.358
|
.470
|
.828
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Jeff Cirillo
|
1998
|
156
|
604
|
97
|
194
|
31
|
1
|
14
|
68
|
79
|
88
|
10
|
4
|
.321
|
.402
|
.445
|
.847
|
|
Alex Ochoa
|
2000
|
118
|
244
|
50
|
77
|
21
|
3
|
13
|
58
|
24
|
27
|
8
|
4
|
.316
|
.378
|
.586
|
.964
|
|
Mark Kotsay
|
2004
|
148
|
606
|
78
|
190
|
37
|
3
|
15
|
63
|
55
|
70
|
8
|
5
|
.314
|
.370
|
.459
|
.829
|
Reggie Jefferson is obviously out, because his strikeout/walk ratio is totally wrong. Cecil Cooper’s strikeout/walk data isn’t as out-of-line as Jefferson’s, but it’s not right, either. Cleon Jones, Jeff Cirillo and Mark Kotsay all have more strikeouts and more playing time than we’re looking for, so we’ll get rid of them. That leaves us with Northey, McBride, Justice and Ochoa:
|
Player
|
YEAR
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
Avg
|
OBA
|
SPct
|
OPS
|
|
Ron Northey
|
1948
|
96
|
246
|
40
|
79
|
10
|
1
|
13
|
64
|
38
|
25
|
0
|
0
|
.321
|
.420
|
.528
|
.949
|
|
Bake McBride
|
1977
|
128
|
402
|
76
|
127
|
25
|
6
|
15
|
61
|
32
|
44
|
36
|
7
|
.316
|
.364
|
.520
|
.884
|
|
David Justice
|
1994
|
104
|
352
|
61
|
110
|
16
|
2
|
19
|
59
|
69
|
45
|
2
|
4
|
.312
|
.427
|
.531
|
.958
|
|
Alex Ochoa
|
2000
|
118
|
244
|
50
|
77
|
21
|
3
|
13
|
58
|
24
|
27
|
8
|
4
|
.316
|
.378
|
.586
|
.964
|
McBride would be perfect except for the stolen bases, but 36 steals would stick out like a sore thumb between Cora and Musial, so we’ll have to dismiss him. Of the other three, I think the best match is Ochoa.
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
|
27
|
94
|
256
|
40
|
78
|
12
|
1
|
9
|
40
|
38
|
29
|
1
|
3
|
.305
|
.465
|
.395
|
.860
|
|
28
|
118
|
244
|
50
|
77
|
21
|
3
|
13
|
58
|
24
|
27
|
8
|
4
|
.316
|
.586
|
.378
|
.964
|
So now we are creating a narrative. Our utility player, after having a surprisingly solid year with the bat at age 26 (.291 with an .805 OPS), stays in the same role for the next two years—but continues to make progress with the bat. Nothing remarkable; from .291 to .305 to .316, some gains in power, but essentially the same player. At age 29, of course, he needs to increase his playing time.
At age 29 we’ll look for someone who hits about .335 with 23 homers, 83 RBI, and also, we’ll need someone who is in the 400s in at bats.
By my count there are 542 29-year-olds in history who had 400 to 499 at bats, so we’ll start with those guys. (My count is through 2007, as I never have gotten around to updating the data base I am using to include 2008.) Anyway, of those 542 players, there are 30 who had batting averages between .320 and .350. Of those 30, there are five who hit between 18 and 28 homers. Those five are Bob Watson, 1975, Bernie Williams, 1998, Carl Everett, 1999, Jeffrey Hammonds, 2000, and Paul LoDuca, 2001:
|
Player
|
YEAR
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
Avg
|
OBA
|
SPct
|
OPS
|
|
Bob Watson
|
1975
|
132
|
485
|
67
|
157
|
27
|
1
|
18
|
85
|
40
|
50
|
3
|
5
|
.324
|
.375
|
.495
|
.870
|
|
Bernie Williams
|
1998
|
128
|
499
|
101
|
169
|
30
|
5
|
26
|
97
|
74
|
81
|
15
|
9
|
.339
|
.422
|
.575
|
.997
|
|
Carl Everett
|
1999
|
123
|
464
|
86
|
151
|
33
|
3
|
25
|
108
|
50
|
94
|
27
|
7
|
.325
|
.398
|
.571
|
.969
|
|
Jeffrey Hammonds
|
2000
|
122
|
454
|
94
|
152
|
24
|
2
|
20
|
106
|
44
|
83
|
14
|
7
|
.335
|
.395
|
.529
|
.924
|
|
Paul Lo Duca
|
2001
|
125
|
460
|
71
|
147
|
28
|
0
|
25
|
90
|
39
|
30
|
2
|
4
|
.320
|
.374
|
.543
|
.917
|
Williams, Everett and Hammonds all strike out too much, so that leaves us with Watson and LoDuca. Either of those will work, but LoDuca had a better year, which leaves us with less distance to go to get to Musial, so let’s use LoDuca:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
|
27
|
94
|
256
|
40
|
78
|
12
|
1
|
9
|
40
|
38
|
29
|
1
|
3
|
.305
|
.465
|
.395
|
.860
|
|
28
|
118
|
244
|
50
|
77
|
21
|
3
|
13
|
58
|
24
|
27
|
8
|
4
|
.316
|
.586
|
.378
|
.964
|
|
29
|
125
|
460
|
71
|
147
|
28
|
0
|
25
|
90
|
39
|
30
|
2
|
4
|
.320
|
.543
|
.374
|
.917
|
The performance at age 29 is essentially the same as at age 28; it’s just that the playing time that has increased—which is reasonable; he’s entitled to increase his playing time after three outstanding years off the bench. Now we put Musial back on there, and we have a career:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
CS
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
|
22
|
29
|
33
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
8
|
0
|
0
|
.121
|
.182
|
.194
|
.376
|
|
23
|
11
|
30
|
2
|
5
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
3
|
0
|
4
|
0
|
0
|
.167
|
.200
|
.194
|
.394
|
|
24
|
109
|
353
|
39
|
84
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
32
|
26
|
53
|
4
|
1
|
.238
|
.357
|
.302
|
.658
|
|
25
|
134
|
405
|
38
|
88
|
18
|
3
|
4
|
29
|
31
|
58
|
0
|
2
|
.217
|
.306
|
.285
|
.591
|
|
26
|
115
|
258
|
37
|
75
|
14
|
4
|
5
|
28
|
26
|
38
|
7
|
2
|
.291
|
.434
|
.371
|
.805
|
|
27
|
94
|
256
|
40
|
78
|
12
|
1
|
9
|
40
|
38
|
29
|
1
|
3
|
.305
|
.465
|
.395
|
.860
|
|
28
|
118
|
244
|
50
|
77
|
21
|
3
|
13
|
58
|
24
|
27
|
8
|
4
|
.316
|
.586
|
.378
|
.964
|
|
29
|
125
|
460
|
71
|
147
|
28
|
0
|
25
|
90
|
39
|
30
|
2
|
4
|
.320
|
.543
|
.374
|
.917
|
|
30
|
152
|
578
|
124
|
205
|
30
|
12
|
32
|
108
|
98
|
40
|
4
|
5
|
.355
|
.614
|
.449
|
1.063
|
|
31
|
154
|
578
|
105
|
194
|
42
|
6
|
21
|
91
|
96
|
29
|
7
|
7
|
.336
|
.538
|
.432
|
.970
|
|
32
|
157
|
593
|
127
|
200
|
53
|
9
|
30
|
113
|
105
|
32
|
3
|
4
|
.337
|
.609
|
.437
|
1.046
|
|
33
|
153
|
591
|
120
|
195
|
41
|
9
|
35
|
126
|
103
|
39
|
1
|
7
|
.330
|
.607
|
.428
|
1.036
|
|
34
|
154
|
562
|
97
|
179
|
30
|
5
|
33
|
108
|
80
|
39
|
5
|
4
|
.319
|
.566
|
.408
|
.974
|
|
35
|
156
|
594
|
87
|
184
|
33
|
6
|
27
|
109
|
75
|
39
|
2
|
0
|
.310
|
.522
|
.386
|
.908
|
|
36
|
134
|
502
|
82
|
176
|
38
|
3
|
29
|
102
|
66
|
34
|
1
|
1
|
.351
|
.612
|
.422
|
1.034
|
|
37
|
135
|
472
|
64
|
159
|
35
|
2
|
17
|
62
|
72
|
26
|
0
|
0
|
.337
|
.528
|
.423
|
.950
|
|
38
|
115
|
341
|
37
|
87
|
13
|
2
|
14
|
44
|
60
|
25
|
0
|
2
|
.255
|
.428
|
.364
|
.792
|
|
39
|
116
|
331
|
49
|
91
|
17
|
1
|
17
|
63
|
41
|
34
|
1
|
1
|
.275
|
.486
|
.354
|
.841
|
|
40
|
123
|
372
|
46
|
107
|
22
|
4
|
15
|
70
|
52
|
35
|
0
|
0
|
.288
|
.489
|
.371
|
.860
|
|
41
|
135
|
433
|
57
|
143
|
18
|
1
|
19
|
82
|
64
|
46
|
3
|
0
|
.330
|
.508
|
.416
|
.924
|
|
42
|
124
|
337
|
34
|
86
|
10
|
2
|
12
|
58
|
35
|
43
|
2
|
0
|
.255
|
.404
|
.325
|
.728
|
|
|
2543
|
8323
|
1307
|
2564
|
494
|
80
|
361
|
1416
|
1133
|
708
|
51
|
47
|
.308
|
.517
|
.395
|
.912
|
Want to see me splice together Chicken Stanley and Barry Bonds? No? OK, we’ll move on.
Of course, you don’t have to find a 27-year-old, a 28-year-old and a 29-year old to bridge the gap; that’s just one of my rules. You can put any season in there that fits. For that matter, you can just make up numbers that fit the requirements you’re looking for. It’s cheating, and J. Henry Waugh will never respect you, but you’re not going to publish it anyway, right?
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
2. Making Bob Feller Whole
The reason I had to explain all that was that I wanted to say this. Bob Feller went 24-9 in 1939, 27-11 in 1940, 25-13 in 1941 and 26-15 in 1946. He struck out 246 to 348 batters a season, and also walked 118 to 194 every year. The four years between, he lost to the war, except for the tag end of the 1945 season. He had a fantastic career anyway, but I got wondering: what would Bob Feller’s numbers look like if hadn’t lost those four years?
I thought I would make Bob Feller whole by filling in his missing seasons with comparable seasons by other pitchers, in the same way that I spliced together Alex Cora and Stan Musial. Only you know what?
It can’t be done. Feller was 23, 24, 25 and 26 in his missing seasons, but throw that out; we’ll use any seasons we can find, regardless of age. There just aren’t any such seasons. There is no other season, by any pitcher in baseball history, at any age, in any era, that fits in even reasonably well with Bob Feller’s 1939-1946 numbers.
You can still do it, of course. There are millions of ways to create mythical careers; I can certainly create records to represent the missing Bob Feller seasons. Maybe I’ll show you how to do that next week, depending on how much people complain about my wasting time with this stuff.
For now, I just wanted to pause and reflect on the remarkable fact that it can’t be done this way. How many players are so unique that no one else’s records can be used to fill in a gap in their career? Even Sandy Koufax has “matches”—Vance in 1924, Steve Carlton in 1972. Even Barry Bonds has matches, up to a point. Bob Feller has none. Nobody fits.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
3. The Greatest Bench Players Ever
Who are the greatest bench players of all time? I was thinking of Alex Cora, who has been a really good player for several years off the bench, and Stan Javier, who I thought was a fine outfielder but spent most of his career coming off the bench, and Rance Mulliniks, who was a platoon third baseman who could actually contribute to the other team losing, and I got to wondering. . .who are the best bench players ever?
Nothing official about it, but I did some research, and here’s my roster of the best bench players of all time:
C—Smoky Burgess
It’s a little debatable whether he is eligible, because “regular” catchers don’t normally bat 600 times anyway. Four hundred at bats as a catcher, you’re pretty close to being a regular.
If eligible, I would argue that Smoky Burgess is clearly the best bench player of all time. Burgess had only one season in his career of more than 377 at bats (442 in 1955), and, since he didn’t walk a lot, it wasn’t that his walks were keeping his at bats low.
Smoky was a short, fat left-handed hitter who had Dustin Pedroia’s hand-eye co-ordination, that spooky ability to fling the bat head at the ball and hit line drives on pitches that any normal human being could never reach. He hit .368 in 1954, hit .301 with 21 homers in his one season as a near-regular, hit 12 homers in just 229 at bats in 1956 and then hit 14 homers in 205 at bats in 1957.
In those years he was clearly a backup, backing up Ed Bailey. Traded to Pittsburgh in ’59, he became a platoon player, and hit .297 and .294 his first two years, helping the Pirates in 1960 to their first World Championship in decades. In 1961, now 34 years old and packing on about ten pounds every off-season, he upped the ante to .301 with 12 homers, and, in 1962, to .328 with 13. He wasn’t that bad a catcher, either; despite the weight he had quick feet, and the data from Retrosheet suggests that he threw a lot better than I thought he did. In 1960 he threw out 21 of 41 would-be base stealers.
By 1963 the speed was coming back into the game, and Smoky was old and roly-poly, but he was traded to the White Sox, and was the American League’s best pinch-hitter in ’65 and ’66. At the time he retired he held the record for career pinch hits, since broken by several other players.
Honorable Mention: Oil Smith, Babe Phelps, Duke Sims, Greg Zaun and John Wockenfuss.
1B—Dave Bergman
Dave Bergman (1975-1992) was a Gold Glove quality first baseman who got a reputation, early in his career, as a non-hitter, and never did get a regular job. But he wasn’t actually all that bad a hitter, either. From 1982 to 1984 he had a total of 532 at bats, but he hit 17 homers, drove in 82 runs, drew 75 walks and averaged .276. His career OPS was better than Willie Wilson, Paul Blair, Terry Pendleton or Phil Garner, and that probably understates his ability as a hitter because about half of his career at bats came when he was 35 years old or more, because it took that long for people to realize that he could actually play.
Honorable Mention: Mike Jorgensen, Dave Magadan, Tom McGraw, Joe Collins and Ken Phelps.
2B—Geronimo Pena
Cardinals of the 1990s.
Honorable Mention: Derrel Thomas, but Thomas had several years as a regular. Rich Amaral. Rex Hudler. Alex Cora.
3B—Rance Mulliniks
After he struggled for the first half of his career as a too-slow shortstop Bobby Cox made him a platoon player, and he was an outstanding platoon third baseman for six years. He was a consistent .300 hitter with 10-12 homers a year in 300-350 at bats, plus he was an OK third baseman and hit a ton of doubles. Four times he hit 25 to 34 doubles in 366 or fewer at bats.
Honorable Mention: Lenny Harris. Dave Hansen. Art Howe.
SS—Dick Schofield Sr.
Couldn’t hit a lick, but had a 19-year career as a backup shortstop, 1953-1971.
Honorable Mention: Bill Almon.
LF (tie)—Jerry Lynch and Wes Covington
These two are guys that I remember vividly and have written about several times, but until I did this research I never put them together, and thus never realized that they’re basically identical players.
Covington: 11-year career, 1956 to 1966, all in the National League except part of 1961.
Lynch: 13-year career, 1954 to 1966, all in the National League
Covington: 6-1, 205 pounds, left-handed hitting, right-handed throwing left fielder.
Lynch: 6-1, 185 pounds, left-handed hitting, right-handed throwing left fielder.
Covington: Really good hitter, brutal outfielder.
Lynch: Really good hitter, brutal outfielder.
Covington: 1075 career games, 2,978 at bats.
Lynch: 1184 career games, 2,879 at bats.
Covington: 131 homers, 499 RBI, .279 average.
Lynch: 115 homers, 470 RBI, .277 average.
Covington: .337 career on base percentage, .466 slugging, .803 OPS
Lynch: .329 career on base percentage, .463 slugging, .792 OPS
Covington: had monster year off the bench in 1958, helped Braves to the NL title.
Lynch: had monster year off the bench in 1961, helped Reds to the NL title.
Covington: mentioned in MVP voting in 1958, despite batting only 294 times.
Lynch: mentioned in MVP voting in 1961, despite batting only 181 times.
I always suspect that a sophisticated analysis will eventually show that Lynch in 1961 deserved to rate higher in the MVP vote than he did, because his at bats had an extremely high leverage index.
Honorable Mention: Fatty Fothergill, Bob Cerv, John Lowenstein, Gary Roenicke, Gates Brown and Manny Mota.
CF—Stan Javier.
Outstanding percentage player.
Honorable Mention: Bob Dernier, Vic Davalillo, Sammy Byrd and John Cangelosi. Also, one can make a really strong argument that Merv Rettenmund was better than Javier.
RF—Jim Eisenreich.
Hit .293 or better seven times and was the best defensive outfielder on whatever team he played on. Illness robbed him of a Hall of Fame career.
Oscar Gamble was a better hitter than Eisenreich, and a better hitter than a lot of guys who were regulars.
Honorable Mention: John Vander Wal, Jim Dwyer, Bernie Carbo, Denny Walling, Lee Lacy. Sherriff Dave Harris.
One other note: the greatest utility player of all time has to be Tony Phillips (1982-1999). Phillips was the only player I ever saw who could play second base, third base, right field or left field and dominate the game defensively from every position. He was OK at shortstop, where he played almost 300 games in his career, or in center, where he played almost 100. In addition to that he walked 100 times in a season five times, stole 15 bases every year and hit as many as 27 homers. He wasn’t a bench player, because he was a regular-without-a-position, but he was an amazing player.
Well. .Junior Gilliam. Gilliam may have been as good as Phillips, and he also could play everywhere. And, they say, Gil McDougald.
Here’s a best-ball splice for Jerry Lynch and Wes Covington:
|
AGE
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SO
|
SB
|
Avg
|
OBA
|
SPct
|
OPS
|
|
23
|
98
|
284
|
27
|
68
|
4
|
5
|
8
|
36
|
20
|
43
|
2
|
.239
|
.290
|
.373
|
.663
|
|
24
|
88
|
282
|
43
|
80
|
18
|
6
|
5
|
28
|
22
|
33
|
2
|
.284
|
.331
|
.443
|
.774
|
|
25
|
96
|
328
|
51
|
93
|
4
|
8
|
21
|
65
|
29
|
44
|
4
|
.284
|
.339
|
.537
|
.875
|
|
26
|
90
|
294
|
43
|
97
|
12
|
1
|
24
|
74
|
20
|
35
|
0
|
.330
|
.380
|
.622
|
1.003
|
|
27
|
122
|
420
|
58
|
131
|
20
|
5
|
16
|
68
|
18
|
54
|
1
|
.312
|
.338
|
.498
|
.835
|
|
28
|
117
|
379
|
49
|
102
|
16
|
3
|
17
|
58
|
29
|
50
|
2
|
.269
|
.320
|
.462
|
.782
|
|
29
|
105
|
289
|
34
|
78
|
11
|
0
|
12
|
47
|
25
|
33
|
0
|
.270
|
.329
|
.433
|
.762
|
|
30
|
96
|
181
|
33
|
57
|
13
|
2
|
13
|
50
|
27
|
25
|
2
|
.315
|
.407
|
.624
|
1.031
|
|
31
|
119
|
353
|
46
|
107
|
24
|
1
|
17
|
64
|
26
|
56
|
1
|
.303
|
.354
|
.521
|
.876
|
|
32
|
129
|
339
|
37
|
95
|
18
|
0
|
13
|
58
|
38
|
50
|
0
|
.280
|
.355
|
.448
|
.803
|
|
33
|
114
|
297
|
35
|
81
|
14
|
2
|
16
|
66
|
26
|
57
|
0
|
.273
|
.328
|
.495
|
.823
|
|
34
|
73
|
121
|
7
|
34
|
1
|
0
|
5
|
16
|
8
|
26
|
0
|
.281
|
.328
|
.413
|
.741
|
|
35
|
64
|
56
|
5
|
12
|
1
|
0
|
1
|
6
|
4
|
10
|
0
|
.214
|
.267
|
.286
|
.552
|
|
|
1311
|
3623
|
468
|
1035
|
156
|
33
|
168
|
636
|
292
|
516
|
14
|
.286
|
.339
|
.486
|
.825
|
Eight years of Lynch, five of Covington.