This started out as something entirely different, and I’m not going to tell you what it was because it didn’t work and it wasn’t important.   For something else I was trying to do I needed a list of the best starting pitchers each year.  I used the Season Score system to generate that list, and then I got interested in that list and what one could do with it.   I wound up with a new way to rate starting pitchers across history.   There are ten million ways to rate starting pitchers and this is just another one, but. . .I learned some things I didn’t know, I thought it was interesting, and I decided to share it with you.

            Suppose that we look at the top ten pitchers in each league each season, and then we compare pitchers based on how they rank among their peers.    Our first problem is, how do we rank the pitchers?

            I ranked them based on Season Scores.   Season scores is a simple system that I introduced here a year or two ago.    It evaluates a pitcher by:

• 10 times wins,
• Minus five times losses,
• Plus one for each Earned Run saved versus a 5.00 ERA,
• Plus 2/3 of a point for each strikeout,
• Minus a point for each walk,
• Plus 3 points for a Save.

            I came up with this system when I was looking for a way to evaluate pitcher’s records without context.   In sabermetrics we are usually meticulous about evaluating statistics in context.    About 2007 it occured to me that we were missing something.    Suppose that we compare Mike McCormick in 1967 (22-10, 2.85 ERA)

to Mark Buehrle in 2004 (16-10, 3.89 ERA.)   McCormick was a lot like Buehrle—a cagey lefty who was sneaky fast and would make you beat him.   He won the Cy Young Award in ’67. 

            In context, Buehrle’s numbers are quite a bit better than McCormick’s.   McCormick had a 2.85 ERA, but the league ERA in ’67 was 3.38, and he was working for a team with a great offense in a pitcher’s park—and they happened to score some runs for him.    In 2004 the league ERA was 4.64, and Buehrle was working in a hitter’s park.   In context, Buehrle was no doubt better than McCormick, but still, 16-10 is not better than 22-10, and a 3.89 ERA is not better than a 2.85 ERA.   This was a way of trying to say “How good are the numbers themselves?”, rather than “How good was the pitcher who compiled these numbers?”

            This turned out to be useful for a lot of different reasons, in part because it tracks the way that people think in a normal context.  The highest-scoring pitcher in the league is usually the Cy Young winner; not always, usually.   When there is a difference between the two—when the award goes one way and the Season Score the other—it is probably true that the Season Score is “right” more often than the voters.   Since 2004 there have been ten Cy Young Awards, all going to starting pitchers.   The highest-scoring pitcher has won six of those awards.  The following were all the highest-scoring starting pitchers in their leagues, and also won the Cy Young Award:

            Johan Santana, AL, 2004

            Chris Carpenter, NL, 2005

            Johan Santana, AL, 2006

            C. C. Sabathia, AL, 2007

            Jake Peavy, NL, 2007

            Cliff Lee, AL, 2008

            The other four awards did not go to the highest-scoring pitcher—but by no means is it obvious that “we” got it wrong.   In the NL in 2004 the award went to Roger Clemens, rather than Randy Johnson.   Clemens was 18-4; Johnson was just 16-14—but Johnson pitched more innings (245-214) with a better ERA (2.60-2.98), and had more strikeouts (290-218) with about half as many walks (44-79).   Our system says “Yes, 18-4 is better than 16-14 by a wide margin; we give 160 points for an 18-4 record, 90 points for 16-14.   However, Johnson gets 17 points for pitching more innings with a better ERA, and 83 points for having more strikeouts and fewer walks.   Johnson is ahead because his other advantages count more than Clemens’ won-lost record.

            The Cy Young voters saw it differently, and I’m not really arguing with them, but I think most analysts of the game would rate Johnson’s 2004 season ahead of Clemens’.   In the American League in 2005 we have Johan Santana (16-7, 2.85 ERA) ahead of Bartolo Colon (21-8, 3.48), for similar reasons.   I think most people would agree with us.

            In the other two cases, maybe we were wrong.   The other two cases were Brandon Webb.   In 2006 the NL Cy Young Award went to Brandon Webb, although our system prefers John Smoltz by a razor-thin margin (240-238).    In 2008 the NL Cy Young Award went to Tim Lincecum, although our system would have given it to Webb, again by a small margin (228-215).

            I’m not arguing that the Season Score system is better than the judgment of the Cy Young voters.  I am arguing that it is about as good as the judgment of the Cy Young voters, and it has certain advantages.   The advantages are that it can be easily figured for any pitcher, rather than just the Cy Young candidates, and that it can be looked at for all of baseball history on a constant scale, rather than just the years 1956-2008, and that on a scale that has changed numerous times.

            We use the Season Score method, then, to look at the issue of “Who are the best pitchers in each league each year?”.  Our next problem is, how do we give credit to those pitchers?

            My first thought was to give credit to the top ten pitchers in each league each year, ten points to the #1 pitcher, 9 to the #2 pitcher, etc.   The problem with this is that it treats unequally the pitchers from different eras.  The NL now has 16 teams.    From 1900 to 1962 it had only eight teams.   For a couple of years in the 19^th century, it had only six.   With that system, in 1950 there would be 55 points for the pitchers on eight teams, or 6.9 points per team.   In 2000 there would be 55 points for 16 teams, or 3.4 points per team.

            How do we fix that?   Let’s try this:  let’s fix the points at 5.5 points per team.    We can do that by this method:

• In a six-team league we give points to the league’s six best starting pitchers, on an 8-7-6-5-4-3 scale.   Six teams, 33 points, 5.50 points per team.
• In an eight-team league, we give points to the league’s eight best starting pitchers, on a scale of 9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2.   Eight teams, 44 points, 5.50 points per team.
• In a ten-team league, we give points to the league’s ten best starting pitchers, on a scale of 10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1.   Ten teams, 55 points, 5.50 points per team.
• In a twelve-team league, we give points to the league’s eleven best starting pitchers, on a scale of 11-10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1.  Twelve teams, 66 points, 5.50 points per team.
• In a fourteen-team league, we give points to the league’s eleven best starting pitchers, on a scale of 12-11-10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2.   Fourteen teams, 77 points, 5.50 points per team.
• In a sixteen-team league, we give points to the league’s eleven best starting pitchers, on a scale of 13-12-11-10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3.   Sixteen teams, 88 points, 5.50 points per team.

            It’s basically a ten-best-pitchers list, but we give the pitcher more credit for being the best pitcher in a sixteen-team league than in an eight-team league.

I figured the best pitchers in baseball by that system and totaled up the points, but there was a problem.   I had Roy Oswalt ahead of Sandy Koufax, Whitey Ford, Bob Gibson or Bob Feller.   Doesn’t sound right.

            I am willing to argue for any outcome that is rational, even if it is surprising, but is this a rational outcome?   Studying the data, I decided that the biggest problem came from the lack of adequate recognition for truly outstanding seasons.   Larry Jansen gets 9 points for being the number one pitcher in the NL in 1950; Robin Roberts gets 9 points for being the number one pitcher in the NL in 1952.   Jansen, however, was 19-13, pitching 275 innings with a 3.01 ERA.   Roberts was 28-7, pitching 330 innings with a 2.59 ERA.    These seasons are not really the same.

            Sandy Koufax was the best pitcher in the National League not only in 1963, 1965 and 1966, when he was a dominant pitcher and a unanimous Cy Young pick all three years, but also in 1961, when he was 18-13 with a 3.52 ERA, and 1964, when he missed the final seven weeks with an injury and wound up 19-5.    He was the best pitcher in the National League in 1961 because nobody was all that good.  Nobody in the National League really had a Cy Young season in ’61.

These years are not really the same.  I had in effect put in place a rule saying that “all seasons are the same”—even if they obviously are not.   I added a bonus for historic seasons.   I gave the pitcher an additional 3 points for:

            1)  Any season in which he led the league in Season Score by 50 points or more, or

            2)  Any season in which he had a Season Score of 400 or higher, post-1900. 

            In the years before the Cy Young Award, a pitcher who led the league in Season Score by 50 points or more would very often be the Most Valuable player.   Pitchers don’t win the MVP Award any more, but a pitcher who has the highest season score by 50 points or more is virtually always the Cy Young Award winner.   There are only a few cases in which this was not true.    (In 1976 Jim Palmer won the Award, although Frank Tanana led the league in Season Score by 59 points.   In 1979 J. R. Richard was the best starting pitcher in the National League by 84 points, but the Cy Young Award went to a reliever.    In 2002 Pedro Martinez led the American League in Season Score by 54 points, but the award went to Barry Zito.)

            A 400-point season is an even more difficult achievement than leading the league by 50 points or more.   A 20-game winner typically has a Season Score between 250 and 300.  A 400-point season is BIG numbers.    In the last 40 years there have been nine 400-point seasons by pitchers:

            Vida Blue, 1971 (24-8, 1.82 ERA, American League MVP)

            Steve Carlton, 1972 (27-10, 1.97 ERA)

            Ron Guidry, 1978 (25-3, 1.74 ERA)

            Dwight Gooden, 1985 (24-4, 1.53 ERA)

            Pedro Martinez, 1999 (23-4, 2.07 ERA)

            Randy Johnson, 2001 (21-6, 2.49 ERA)

            Curt Schilling, 2001 (22-6, 2.98 ERA)

            Randy Johnson, 2002 (24-5, 2.32 ERA)

            Curt Schilling, 2002 (23-7, 3.23 ERA)

            All of these pitchers also struck out at least 248 batters, and most of them struck out over 300.   Those seasons are special, so we treat them as special. These two bonuses are not mutually exclusive; one can get both the 3 points for leading the league in Season Score by 50 points or more AND the 3 points for having a Season Score of 400.   Since 1930 eleven pitchers have gotten all six points:

            Lefty Grove in 1930 and 1931

            Dizzy Dean in 1934

            Sandy Koufax in 1963, 1965 and 1966

            Denny McLain in 1968

            Steve Carlton in 1972

            Ron Guidry in 1978

            Doc Gooden in 1985

            Pedro Martinez in 1999

            Those were all incredible seasons, and I don’t think anyone would question that they all deserve to be distinguished from the “ordinary” Cy Young seasons.

            What I learned from doing this is that our modern pitchers stack up extremely well by historical standards.    The “recently retired pitchers” list, of course, is a bestiary; Clemens, Maddux and others yield to no one in terms of the number of top-rank seasons that they produced—and there are others beyond them, others who perhaps we don’t think of as historic pitchers because they don’t stack up impressively next to Clemens and Maddux and the Big Unit, but who DO stack up surprisingly well when compared to other great pitchers from history.

            There are seven active pitchers—active this season—who have done enough, by historic standards, to go into the Hall of Fame, based on the number of high-impact seasons they have already recorded.   Two of those—Roy Halladay and Andy Pettitte—are marginal, close calls.  They’re over the Hall of Fame line, but still close enough that you can argue about it.   The other five, based on the big seasons that they have already had, are Randy Johnson, Pedro Martinez, Tom Glavine, Johan Santana and Roy Oswalt.   I know the inclusion of Oswalt on this list may be surprising, but. . .I’ll talk about it later. 

            The number one pitcher of all time, in terms of having many strong seasons, remains Cy Young.

            Cy Young got to 500 career wins in part because he pitched in an era when a good pitcher could win 30 games in a season.   Thirty wins, for most of Cy Young’s career, meant less than twenty wins does today.   We routinely and appropriately discount Young’s career record because of this.

            But discounted or not, Cy Young had one hell of a career.   Cy Young pitched in the major leagues from 1890 to 1911—22 years.  In five of those years (1890, 1906, 1909, 1910 and 1911) he was not one of the top pitchers in the league.   The other 17 seasons, he was:

            In 1892, 1893, 1895, 1896, 1899, 1901, 1902 and 1903 Young scores as the best pitcher in his league.   In four others seasons he was the second-best or the third-best.   In five seasons beyond that, he was one of the seven best.   Five times he was the best pitcher in his league by a margin of 50 points or more.   No other pitcher has as impressive a career, analyzed in this way.

The Hall of Fame Line

            I was trying to level the playing field.   I was trying to say “the league ERA may be 3.00 one year and 5.00 another year, but let’s level the playing field by comparing each pitcher to those pitchers that he actually competed with.    Pitchers may pitch 300 innings in one season and league the league with 200 in another because of the use of bullpens and a five-man starting rotation, but let’s compare everyone on a fair basis versus his contemporaries.”

            Our system has its limitations and its flaws, certainly, but it also has this additional benefit:   that it gives the pitcher no credit whatsoever for hanging around as a .500 pitcher.   Sandy Koufax had 165 career wins and Dizzy Dean 154, but they easily outpoint Early Wynn and Phil Niekro, who won 300.

            The essential reason that this system works as well as it does, and the reason I decided to write about it, is that draws a relatively bright line between Hall of Fame and non-Hall of Fame pitchers.    There are, as I said, millions of ways to rank starting pitchers, and this is just one more.   In any of those ways that one can rank starting pitchers, there is a “Hall of Fame line”; there is some point above which most players are in the Hall of Fame, and below which most players are out.

            Ordinarily, however, there is a substantial gray area.   Usually, when you rank pitchers, you have four things:

• An “in” line,
• An “out” line,
• A gray area between the lines, and
• Outliers.

            Outliers on both ends; players who shouldn’t be in but are; players who shouldn’t be in but are.    What makes this interesting is that the gray area goes from black to white very, very quickly.   

            The line is:  47 points.   At 47, you’re in; below 47, you’re not in.  Setting aside active and recently retired pitchers, these are the 25 lowest-scoring pitchers who rank at 47 or above:

            Of the 25 pitchers who clear the “47” barrier by the thinnest margins, 24 are in the Hall of Fame.   The sole exception—the one marginal Hall of Famer who hasn’t made it—was Billy Pierce.    And these are the 27 pitchers who missed the Hall of Fame standard by ten points or less:

            Of the 27 pitchers who narrowly missed the Hall of Fame standard, only seven—one-fourth—have been selected to the Hall of Fame anyway (Grimes, Coveleski, Griffith, Hoyt, Willis, Lemon and Galvin.)    That means:  no gray area.   47 you’re in; 46 you’re out.   One rarely sees that.

            There is, of course, a gray area, but it’s a weak gray area; it’s not a random mix of Hall of Famers and non-Hall of Famers, it’s an area of 75% non-Hall of Famers with a few pitchers who can almost, but not quite, be described as outliers.   This is a summary of the Hall of Famers by ten-point ranges. excluding active and recently-retired pitchers:

            So this enables to say, with a fair degree of confidence, what is a Hall of Fame career, in terms of having a necessary number of seasons as one of the best pitchers in the league.   I decided to refer to each eleven points, on occasion, as a “strong season”.   There are 5.5 points per team; 11 points is as many points as there would be on two teams.  It’s just more convenient sometimes to say that a pitcher had eight strong seasons than that he had a score of 43 points in our strong seasons evaluative system.  Comments on individual pitchers will be summarized below in alphabetical order.

Chief Bender

            Bender is among the weakest Hall of Fame starting pitchers by this method, checking in with only 28 points.   Bender was never the best pitcher in his league in any season, and ranks among the top pitchers in his league in only five seasons.

Vida Blue

            By this method as by so many others, Vida Blue’s career stalled out just short of the gateway to the Hall of Fame.   With a career won-lost log of 209-161, Blue certainly has a record comparable to some Hall of Fame pitchers like Don Drysdale (209-166) and Hal Newhouser (207-150).  However, most pitchers with records like that do not go into the Hall of Fame—and most pitchers with a “strong season score” of 43 don’t, either.  

Bert Blyleven

            With 91 points—eight strong seasons--Blyleven ranks as ridiculously over-qualified for the Hall of Fame.   He is one of three pitchers in history who has not been elected to the Hall of Fame despite several years on the ballot and more than four strong seasons.   Our study in this regard is thus consistent with numerous other methods tending to show Blyleven as a Hall of Fame quality pitcher.

            By this method Blyleven ranks as the #1 pitcher in his league twice (1973 and 1984) and as one of the best pitchers in his league in thirteen different seasons.    These are the only pitchers in baseball history who were among the best pitchers in their league in ten or more different seasons:

Tommy Bond

            Tommy Bond was the number one pitcher in the National League in 1877 and 1878.   I figured the all-time top-ten list as it stood after every season beginning in 1876, and Bond, of course, was at the top of the list in the early years, with a total accumulating to 40 points.   Bond held the top spot on the chart from 1877 through 1883, being pushed out of the #1 all-time spot by Old Hoss Radbourn in 1884.  He remained on the top-ten list into the early 20^th century.

Tommy Bridges

            Bridges, the most famous curve-ball pitcher of the 1930s, had a nice run, being listed among the top pitchers in the American League in seven different seasons from 1934 to 1943, and ranking first in 1936.   His career total was 37 points. 

Kevin Brown

            Kevin Brown does extremely well in our survey, being listed among the best pitchers in his league in 1992, ’96, ’97, ’98, ’99, 2000, and 2003.    His career total of 72 points is well above the level that has historically indicated a Hall of Fame career.  

            Although Tom Glavine won the NL Cy Young Award in 1998, our method lists Glavine as the sixth-best pitcher in the NL that year, and the third-best starting pitcher on the Braves.   Comparing Glavine to Brown in that season, Brown pitched 28 more innings, had a better ERA, had 100 more strikeouts (257-157) and 25 fewer walks.   Glavine was supported by 5.15 runs per nine innings; Brown, by 4.37.  

            Again, I’m not saying that our system is right; merely that it is reasonable.  Glavine won the Cy Young Award, and he will always have that—but it doesn’t mean that he gets ALL recognition from everybody as the league’s best pitcher.   Brown has an argument, too.    Brown ranked among the four top pitchers in his league in six different seasons.

Mark Buehrle

            After ranking among the best pitchers in the American League in 2001, 2002, 2004 and 2005, Buehrle has not been able to crack the top-pitchers list since 2005.   This could be the year he gets back on the list.   He has a little over two strong seasons (25 points) and is holding. 

Jim Bunning

            Jim Bunning does well in this system—so well, indeed, that I thought about calling these “Jim Bunning Points”.   I had a recent letter in the Hey, Bill, section asking me to re-examine Bunning’s career in view of his upcoming departure from the Senate.  

            In his first season as a rotation starter (1957) Bunning ranks as the #1 pitcher in the American League, finishing 20-8 with a 2.70 ERA; in fact, by the season score there is only one other pitcher (Billy Pierce) within 80 points of him.   Bunning clocks in at 281, Pierce at 239, and no one else is over 200.

            In the two seasons after that Bunning finished 14-12 and 17-13, in both cases among the ten best pitchers in the league, but not notably; he was just another pretty good pitcher.   We come then to the quite extraordinary 1960 season, when Bunning—despite a won-lost record of 11 and 14—comes in as the best pitcher in the American League.  

            The Season Score math leans heavily on won-lost records, and it is rare for a pitcher with a winning percentage below .600 to rank as the #1 starter in the league.  In the last 20 years the only pitcher with a winning percentage below .600 to rank as the number one pitcher in his league was Randy Johnson in 2004, when he was 16-14 but with 290 strikeouts and 44 walks; we talked about that one earlier. 

            Bunning in 1960 is the only pitcher in history to rank as the #1 pitcher in the league despite a sub-.500 record—and he clears it with ease.   If he had won another game, another two games, three games, even another four games, he would still hold the distinction of having the lowest winning percentage ever for a league-best pitcher.

            Mostly this was because nobody in the American League had a very good year.   Two young pitchers, Jim Perry and Chuck Estrada, won 18 games each, but both had ERAs about 3.60, and the league ERA was well under 4.00.   Whitey Ford and Camilo Pascual, perhaps the league’s two best pitchers other than Bunning, had ERAs around 3.00, but missed time with injuries and finished 12-9 and 12-8.   Frank Baumann led the league in ERA (2.67), but made only 20 starts and had a strikeout/walk ratio of 71-53.  Bunning, leading the league in strikeouts and second in ERA, is a default selection as the league’s best pitcher despite his 11-14 record.

            There is another one-of-a-kind here.   If you pick the ten best pitchers in baseball that year, they’re all in the National League; the #10 starting pitcher in the NL, Mike McCormick, easily outpoints Bunning (201-172)—and the National League starters that year really weren’t very good, either.   There is no other year in which any league gets shut out of the best pitchers contest, even in the three-league seasons of 1884, 1914 and 1915.

            So Bunning—who really was the American League’s best pitcher—scores as the league’s best pitcher for the second time, despite his abysmal offensive support.   In 1961, of course, Whitey Ford had a historic season, while Bunning’s teammate Frank Lary also had a Cy Young-quality campaign, but Bunning, at 17-11 with a better ERA than either Ford or Lary, ranks as the league’s number three pitcher.   In 1962, at 19-10, he again comes in as the league’s #3 starting pitcher, behind Ralph Terry and Camilo Pascual.

            In 1963 Bunning had a poor year, finishing 12-13 with a worse-than-league ERA, failing to rank among the league’s best pitchers for the first time in his career.   That winter the Tigers traded him to the National League for Don Demeter, an outfielder.   It was a poor trade; indeed, it was a stupid trade.

            Early in 1964 Bunning pitched a perfect game, baseball’s first regular-season perfect game in more than 40 years.   In mid-September, 1964, Jim Bunning seemed poised to win his first Cy Young Award.    Entering September he was 14-4 with a 2.17 ERA.   Koufax was at 19-5 but done for the season with an injury.    Starting (always on three days rest) Bunning pitched complete games on September 1, 5 and 13, and took a no-decision on September 9.     On September 13 he pitched 10 innings, ultimately winning the game 4-1, making him 17-4 with a 2.23 ERA. 

            Now let me pause for a moment to defend the reputation of the late Gene Mauch.   In popular history, what happened next was that as soon as the Phillies’ lead began to slip, Mauch panicked, and started Bunning on two days rest to try to arrest the slide.  Bunning was shelled, didn’t pitch well the rest of the year, and the Phillies had a monumental collapse.

            Elements of that are certainly true, but it’s not exactly right.   Gene Mauch did in fact make an utterly inexplicable decision to start Jim Bunning on two days’ rest on September 16, 1964.   Bunning did get hit hard, was highly ineffective late in the year, and the Phillies did do an absolutely amazing pennant race pratfall.    No one can understand why Bunning made that September 16 start.   The Phillies were playing Houston, a team which had a team batting average for the season of .220 and a team OPS for the season of—I am not making this up--.584.    They were one of the worst-hitting teams in the history of baseball.   Bunning had pitched a ten-inning complete game just two days earlier.   The Phillies had the pennant virtually wrapped up, six games ahead with a little over two weeks to play.   The decision to start Bunning in that game is simply flabbergasting.   Bunning was hit hard, and the Phillies lost. 

            The Gene Mauch blew it story, however, is not exactly right.   First, the Phillies lead was not slipping at that time.   The Phillies had a 6 ½ game lead on September 20—four days after Bunning’s loss to Houston.

            Second, Bunning started against Los Angeles on September 20, on his normal rest, and was highly effective, giving up five hits, no walks and no earned runs (two un-earned) in a 9-inning complete-game victory.   That made him 18-6 with a 2.33 ERA. 

            Third, Bunning’s next start after that, on September 24, was on normal rotation, and Bunning did not pitch badly, although he lost.  

            The Phillies collapse started on September 21.   They lost on the 21^st, 22^nd and 23^rd, lost on the 24^th with Bunning, and lost again on the 25^th and 26^th.   Bunning started again on two days rest on the 27^th and the 30^th—but by then, it was high time to panic.  By September 27 the Phillies had lost 6 games of a 6 ½ game lead in six days.   You know the old joke; if you can keep your head in a situation where all others around you are panicking, you may not comprehend the situation.     By September 27 the Phillies’ house was engulfed in flames; it was time to panic.  

            There is no defense for the decision to start Bunning on the 16^th—but there is also no clear connection between that game and the collapse of the Phillies, which started five days later, after Bunning had pitched an outstanding game on September 20.    The Phillies lost six straight games of which Bunning pitched only one, on normal rest, and gave up only three runs.    THEN he started again on three days rest, lost, started again on three days rest, lost again, and pitched a shutout on the last day of the season to finish 19-8, 2.63 ERA.

            But also, it wasn’t that unusual for a pitcher to start on two days rest in that era; not common, but not as bizarre as it seems now.   Koufax pitched a complete game on September 10, 1963, in the pennant race, came back and started against the Phillies on September 13; nobody says Walt Alston was an idiot for doing that.  Warren Spahn in July, 1961, pitched a ten-inning complete game, and came in to pitch relief two days later.   He was 40 years old.   Nobody said anything about that.  

            In any event Bunning scores, in 1964, as the number two pitcher in the National League behind Koufax—another really solid season.   In 1965 he had almost the same numbers as 1964 (19-9, 2.60 ERA) and scores as the number three pitcher in the National League, behind Koufax and Marichal.     In 1966 he won 19 games for the third straight season, and once more scores as the #3 pitcher in the league, behind Koufax and Marichal. 

            So that is 9 times in ten years that Bunning has been listed among the best pitchers in his league, with 7 of those 9 being first, second or third-place finishes.    In 1967 Koufax was retired and Marichal was hurt, and Bunning finished only 17-15—but ranks once more as the best pitcher in the league.  

            Bunning’s 17-15 record in 1966 is the worst won-lost record ever for a league-best pitcher, other than Bunning in 1960 (and Dazzy Vance in 1930, who also finished 17-15.)   The Cy Young Award went to Mike McCormick because of his 22-10 won-lost record, but look at the facts:

            McCormick pitched 262 innings with a 2.85 ERA.   Bunning pitched 40 more innings—302—with an ERA more than half a run lower, 2.29.    McCormick struck out 150 hitters; Bunning struck out 253.   McCormick walked 81 hitters; Bunning walked 73.  

The park factor in San Francisco, where McCormick pitched, was 98; the park factor in Philadelphia was 108.   

            Obviously Bunning was better in 1967 than McCormick; he just didn’t get the won-lost record he deserved, and thus lost the first Cy Young contest in years in which he would not have had to beat Koufax.   But he was the league’s best pitcher anyway—the best in his league for the third time, one of the three best for the eighth time.  

            That was his last good year, but not a lot of pitchers can match that record.   Bunning ranks, by this method, as the #21 starting pitcher of all time.

Steve Carlton

            Carlton ranks among the best pitchers in the National League eleven years, and ranks first four times (1972, 1980, 1981 and 1982).    With 108 points he is tied with that other Phillie/Cardinal great, Grover Cleveland Alexander, for 11^th place on the all-time list.

Chris Carpenter

            Chris Carpenter piled up 30 points before his injury, based on being among the best pitchers in the league in 2004, 2005 and 2006.  

Bob Caruthers

            Caruthers, seen by some people as a Hall of Fame candidate, was never the number one pitcher in his league, was among the best pitchers only five times, and is credited with only three strong seasons (33 points).   He does, of course, have some other credentials, in that he was also a good-hitting outfielder when he didn’t pitch.

Jack Chesbro

            Chesbro is in the Hall of Fame despite earning only 35 points in our survey—a number that leaves him tied with Lew Burdette, Mark Langston, Mario Soto and Jose Rijo.  He had a historic season in 1904, of course, and he was also the best pitcher in the National League in 1902.   Otherwise his credentials are very modest, and I have long felt that his Hall of Fame selection was a mistake.

Roger Clemens

            By this method, Roger Clemens ranks as the #2 pitcher of all time, behind only Cy Young.   Clemens was the best pitcher in his league eight times, a figure exceeded only by Walter Johnson, with 9:

            Three of Clemens’ top-spot seasons qualify as “historic” seasons, but the “historic seasons” addition actually took the #1 spot away from Clemens.  Without those points, Clemens would rank ahead of Cy Young.    Clemens picked up nine points for seasons of historic magnitude; Cy Young added 27. 

            Clemens ranks among the best pitchers in the league in 15 seasons, a figure exceeded only by Spahn and Cy Young, with 17 each.  

David Cone

            David Cone does extremely well in this analysis.    With the Mets in 1988 (20-3) he ranks as the number two pitcher in the league, behind Orel Hershiser.    In 1990, 1991 and 1992 he ranks among the best pitchers in his league, and picks up a few points each year.   In 1994, when he won the Cy Young Award for Kansas City, he ranks as the number one pitcher in the league.  In 1995, splitting the year between the Blue Jays and the Yankees, he went 18-8 and ranks as the number three pitcher in the league.   In 1997 he picked up a few points at the bottom of the list; in 1998 he won 20 games, and ranks as the fourth-best pitcher in the American League.   Adding it all up, he has eight seasons ranking among the best seasons in his league, which is more than most Hall of Fame pitchers, and he ranks at 68 points.

Mort Cooper

            Mort Cooper ranked as the #1 pitcher in the National League three straight years (1941-42-43), but pulled up with just 36 strong-season points.

Stan Coveleski

            Stan Coveleski had seven seasons being among the best pitchers in his league, was never the #1 man, and had a career total of 43 points.  He is a weak Hall of Famer, selected in 1969 in large part because of his appearance in the very popular oral history, The Glory of Their Times. 

Mike Cuellar

            Mike Cuellar had major league opportunities as early as 1959, but struggled for many years to establish himself as a major league pitcher, with a career won-lost record of 6-9 through 1965.    He was always regarded as a very talented pitcher. 

            Finally getting his feet on the ground in 1966, Cuellar ranks among the best pitchers in the National League in two seasons (1966-1967), and among the best in the American League in four (1969-1970-1971-1974).   In 1969 he split the Cy Young Award with Denny McLain, a tie vote.  Our system sees him as the #2 pitcher in the American League in that season, behind McLain, but the #1 pitcher in 1970.   He had a career total of 34 points, and would be in the Hall of Fame if he had gotten traction about three years earlier.   

Paul Derringer

            Paul Derringer was 18-8 in 1931, 22-13 in 1935, 19-19 in 1936, 21-14 in 1938, 25-7 in 1939, 20-12 in 1940, and 16-11 in 1945.   He ranks among the best pitchers in the league in all of those seasons, and actually first in 1939, although another pitcher on his team won the MVP Award.    In our analysis he misses the Hall of Fame standard—47 points—by one single point.    He had 46.

Don Drysdale

            Drysdale ranks among the best starting pitchers in the National League in 1959, 1960, 1962, 1963, 1964 and 1965.   In 1962, when he won the Cy Young Award with a 25-9 record, he ranks as the #1 pitcher in the league by more than 50 points, which makes it a historic season at a kind of low level.   

            Interestingly, Drysdale does not rank among the best starting pitchers in the National League in 1968, when he had the famous consecutive-scoreless-inning streak—and does not deserve to.  His won-lost record was just 14-12.  His ERA was good, 2.15, but that was only sixth in the league in 1968, and he was nowhere near the top ten in the league in innings pitched or strikeouts.  

            He does, however, clear the Hall of Fame standard by this method.

Dennis Eckersley

            Dennis Eckersley ranked among the best starting pitchers in the American League in 1975, 1977, 1978 and 1979, and earned 24 points by this method as a starting pitcher.   His biggest credentials, of course, are in his relief career.  

Bob Feller

            Bob Feller ranks as the number one starting pitcher in the American League in 1939, 1940 and 1947, and ranks second in 1941 (behind Thornton Lee) and 1946 (behind Hal Newhouser.)     He also made the list in 1948 and 1951.

            Feller does NOT do especially well in this system.   He has a Hall of Fame number—60 points—but not a top-tier Hall of Fame number.   He ranks behind David Cone and Kevin Brown and Roy Oswalt.   I know that some people will see this as a failure of the system—but Feller was out of the league in 1942, 1943, 1944 and most of 1945.   He was the best or second-best pitcher in the league in ALL of the surrounding seasons.   We have to assume that, if he had those years back, he would rank among the top pitchers of all time.

Wes Ferrell

            Wes Ferrell, although seen by some people as deserving of Hall of Fame status, was never the best pitcher in his league, and had only two seasons ranking among the top four in his league.    His career total is only 31 points.   Very, very few pitchers in that range of accomplishment have been named to the Hall of Fame.    In this analysis he ranks even with Jerry Koosman, Larry Jansen, Shane Reynolds and Sam McDowell.  

Fat Freddie Fitzsimmons

            Fat Freddie Fitzsimmons was not exactly fat, until the end of his career; he was kind of built like a hobbit.   He was quite short with extremely short legs but a large, powerful torso, long arms, and huge hands.   He had a big neck and a big head.   He was odd-looking, like an oversized dwarf.  He is listed now at 5-11; I don’t know where that comes from.   He was probably 5-8, but a big man from the waist up.

            He threw some knuckleballs and/or knuckle curves, but he made his living off a sinker.  He wasn’t someone you would look at and say “Wow; there’s a Hall of Famer”—yet he won 217 games in his career, and lost only 146.   His won-lost record is better than many Hall of Famers, yet in our system he has only 20 points, nowhere near a Hall of Fame number.  

            He never got above 6% in the Hall of Fame voting, and this is sort of what I am getting at.   The Hall of Fame voters look for certain things, like dominant seasons and dominant performances.    Don Drysdale things.   Freddie Fitzsimmons had more wins than Don Drysdale and fewer losses, but he had hardly any of the things that made Drysdale a Hall of Famer.    I didn’t design this system to track the way that Hall of Fame voters think, but it just accidentally does.   This is useful, and instructive.

Whitey Ford

            Ford had two small-h historic seasons, 1961 and 1963, and a career total of 68 points (six strong seasons.)   He ranks as the #29 starting pitcher of all time by this method.  

Bob Gibson

            I know that many people have come to think of Bob Gibson as the paragon of  pitching virtues, but in all candor, he doesn’t do great by this method.   He has 59 points in his career, a Hall of Fame number, but not a front-rank Hall of Fame number.   He ranks as the number one pitcher in the National League in 1968 and 1970, his two Cy Young seasons, but otherwise never ranks higher than fourth.

            Gibson is held back a little, of course, because he was going head-to-head in his best seasons with Koufax and Marichal and Don Drysdale, and they couldn’t all be the best pitcher in the league—but then, so was Jim Bunning, and Bunning got 75 points.  

He was slow getting started.  Everybody remembers that Koufax struggled for years before he found himself, but Gibson was the same age as Koufax (a few weeks older, actually), and he was two or three years later than Koufax in harnessing his ability.   He had eight years as one of the best pitchers in the National League, and he had one historic season.    He can accurately be described as a great pitcher, but somehow he has become the archetype of a great pitcher.   I’m not sure that that’s justified by the record.  

Tom Glavine

            Tom Glavine, Warren Spahn Lite, had eleven seasons among the best pitchers in the National League, and ranked first in 1991, when he did win the Cy Young Award.  His career total was 66 points.  

Lefty Gomez

            With 47 points, Gomez is over the Hall of Fame line by the skin of his teeth.   He was the best pitcher in the American League in 1934 and 1937—posting a 2.33 ERA both years—and was among the best pitchers in four other seasons.    See comments on Ron Guidry.

Dwight Gooden

            Gooden compiled 60 strong season points in his relatively short career.   He is listed in my study as a “recently retired” pitcher.  

Lefty Grove

            With 13 seasons among the best pitchers in the American League and six seasons as the best pitcher in the American League, Grove is tied with Christy Mathewson for the position as the sixth-best starting pitcher in baseball history by this analysis.  In all six of his top-ranked seasons Grove was at least 50 points better than any other American League pitcher.

Ron Guidry

            There are three pitchers in this study who are “true outliers”—that is, real and dramatic exceptions to the general patterns of the data.   Those three are Bert Blyleven, Ron Guidry and Jesse Haines.   There are several “marginal exceptions” to the rules, marginal outliers.   Billy Pierce is a few points over the Hall of Fame line but never got a nibble from the Hall of Fame voters; Stan Coveleski is a few points below the Hall of Fame line but did go in, as did a dozen or so other pitchers.   These are marginal calls. 

            Jesse Haines is a “negative outlier”—a pitcher who made the Hall of Fame despite a serious shortage of meaningful credentials—and then there are Bert Blyleven, at 91 points, and Ron Guidry at 84.

            Blyleven and Guidry are so far above the Hall of Fame line that one would think that their Hall of Fame selection would not be an issue.   Blyleven, of course, has become a popular candidate.   Guidry has not. 

            Guidry’s career in several respects parallels that of Lefty Gomez.    Gomez’ career record was 189-102; Guidry’s was 170-91.   Gomez’ ERA was 3.34; Guidry’s was 3.29.  Both were Yankees, both left-handers, both hard throwers, both thin.   Guidry had three 20-win seasons; Gomez had four.

            In the past, I have analyzed this comparison in this way:

            1)  Gomez was fortunate to make the Hall of Fame, being very marginally qualified,

            2)  Guidry was similar but a little bit BEHIND Gomez, thus not in a range where his Hall of Fame selection was likely,

            3)  Gomez had three outstanding seasons; Guidry only one, 1978, and

            4)  Gomez made the Hall of Fame, in part, based on his post-career reputation as an entertainer and ambassador for the game. 

            But the implications of this new method are totally incompatible with that analysis.    As this method sees it, putting Gomez in the Hall of Fame was NOT a reach.   Gomez is qualified based on the number of high-quality seasons that he produced.    And Guidry, rather than ranking behind Gomez, in fact ranks far ahead of him.

            How does that happen?  These are Ron Guidry’s eight point-producing seasons, in the form I used earlier for Cy Young:

            A total of 84 points, which we can refer to as eight strong seasons.  It takes four strong seasons, historically, to be a Hall of Famer; Guidry has eight. Although the strike ruined the 1981 season and the Cy Young Award went to a reliever, Ron Guidry was the best starting pitcher in the American League in 1981.    Although Bret Saberhagen won the Cy Young Award in 1985, Guidry’s record is just as good (both pitchers actually score at 293 points.)    That gives Guidry three seasons as the league’s best starting pitcher—and he was competing in a 14-team league.   Gomez had two such seasons, competing in an eight-team league.

            What happened to Guidry, in a sense, was that Guidry’s 1978 season was SO good that it made the rest of his career look bad by comparison.   Also, Guidry competed in the middle of a historic outbreak of 300-game winners and near-300-game winners.     He was competing on the ballot with Steve Carlton, Phil Niekro, Don Sutton, Jim Kaat, Tommy John, Bert Blyleven and others.   He was 100+ wins behind them. 

            By Guidry’s era, career win totals had come to dominate the Hall of Fame discussion.    Perhaps this is right; perhaps it is wrong.    I am not suggesting that my new method here should substitute for all other judgment about Hall of Fame selections, not at all.  There are many other ways to look at the issue.   Perhaps those other ways are better.

            But while those other pitchers have 100+ wins more than Guidry, Guidry’s winning percentage was far better than Carlton’s, or Sutton’s, or Niekro’s, or Kaat’s, or Tommy John’s, or Ryan’s, or Blyleven’s or Gaylord Perry’s; it was even far better than Tom Seaver’s.   Guidry was further over .500—wins minus losses—than most of those pitchers.

            Steve Carlton’s ERA was 41 points better than the league norm for his career.  Don Sutton’s ERA was 45 points better-than-league, Tommy John’s was 42 points better, Blyleven’s 50 points better.   Jim Kaat was 15 points better than league.  Ron Guidry’s ERA was 76 points better than the league average.

            I am merely pointing this out:  in general, through baseball history, pitchers who have eight seasons as one of the best pitchers in their league and three seasons as the best pitcher in their league have been almost automatic Hall of Fame selections.   Historically, the Hall of Fame has made room for all pitchers with 250+ wins—but also for pitchers who were more dominant in shorter careers.     

Jesse Haines

The only starting pitchers who have been selected with less than 26 points are Dennis Eckersley, Monte Ward, Jesse Haines, Babe Ruth, Albert Spalding and Hoyt Wilhelm.   All of those except Haines, of course, have other credentials.   Eckersley and Wilhelm were relief pitchers.  Monte Ward was a long-term shortstop, a manager, a labor organizer and a league official.   Babe Ruth, I believe, was an outfielder.   Albert Spalding was a millionaire businessman who was one of baseball’s most powerful behind-the-scenes executives from 1877 into the twentieth century.  

And then there is Jesse Haines, whose “other accomplishment” was that he was a friend of Frankie Frisch, the central figure on the Hall of Fame Veteran’s Committee at the time Haines was elected.   Haines’ playing credentials consist of only three seasons among the league’s best pitchers, totaling 16 points.   He misses by 10 points the bottom of the gray area.   He is perhaps the worst-qualified pitcher in the Hall of Fame, although an argument can also be made for Rube Marquard.  

Roy Halladay

            Roy Halladay through 2008 has 50 points worth of strong seasons, putting him already over the Hall of Fame line.

Mel Harder

            Mel Harder’s career won-lost record (223-186) is similar to but better than that of his close contemporary Paul Derringer (223-212).   But whereas Derringer scores at 46 points in our system—very near a Hall of Fame standard—Harder checks in at only 24 points.

Orel Hershiser

            Like Vida Blue and Paul Derringer, Hershiser fell just short of a Hall of Fame standard in his analysis, just as he would in a more traditional analysis.    He had 41 points.

Carl Hubbell

            Ranks 19^th all-time with 79 points.

Catfish Hunter

            Catfish Hunter, as you probably know, was elected to the Hall of Fame in his third year of eligibility despite a won-lost record—and an overall record—no better than other pitchers who were not selected.    Catfish’ won-lost record was 224-166.   Luis Tiant, whose career ran almost exactly the same years in the same league, was 229-172.   Their ERAs were almost the same (3.30 vs. 3.26, edge to Catfish), although Tiant pitched in much more difficult parks.   Catfish in his career was only 56 runs better than league average, park-adjusted—an extremely low number, for a Hall of Famer—whereas Tiant was 172 runs better than an average pitcher.  

            However, while I am not arguing that the selection of Hunter/dismissal of Tiant was right, it is consistent with the voting history of the institution, when looked at from this standpoint.   Both Hunter and Tiant had seven seasons among the best pitchers in the American League, but Hunter had five seasons in the top five, whereas Tiant had only three.     Hunter had 48 points in our system—over the Hall of Fame line—Tiant had 36, which is well under the line.

            In all candor, this argument represents the weakness or failure of this line of analysis, rather than its strength.   Catfish was not better than Tiant; he merely looked a little bit better because he pitched in a pitcher’s park for a team that won three consecutive World Series.    Our system makes no adjustment for that, and thus signs on to the wrongheaded supposition that Hunter was greater than he was.   That is the strength and weakness of our system—that it tracks conventional wisdom about pitchers, right or wrong, and this enables us to spot cases where the conventional analysis for some reason misfired.

Larry Jackson

            One of the favorites of my childhood—as was Catfish—Jackson won 194 games in his career, but earned only 13 points as one of the better pitchers in his league.

Ferguson Jenkins

            An obvious Hall of Famer, ranks among the best pitchers in his league in all seven of his 20-win seasons, plus 1978 (when he was 18-8 with Texas) and 1979 (when he was 16-14).    He does, however, rank below Bert Blyleven, a contemporary pitcher with a similar won-lost record. 

Tommy John

            John has a similar career won-lost record (288-231) to Ferguson Jenkins (284-226) and Blyleven (287-250).   His ERA is also the same as Jenkins’ (3.34), which is only three points different from Blyleven (3.31).    However, while Blyleven comes in at 91 points in this system and Jenkins at 74, John comes in at 38.    He had a lot of seasons in a very long career in which he pitched very well, but just not enough innings to be considered one of the best pitchers in the league.   He was 10-5 in 1968, 11-5 in 1972, 13-3 in 1974, 5-3 in 1986 and 13-6 in 1987.    He also had a lot of 10-10, 9-8 type of seasons.   These seasons add up to essentially the same totals as Blyleven and Jenkins, but they don’t have the same impact on Hall of Fame voters.    What puts you in the Hall of Fame is if voters look at you and decide “That guy is one of the best pitchers in the league”, and then you stay there for several years.

            I do believe that Tommy John will eventually be in the Hall of Fame.   Historically, the Hall of Fame has eventually selected everybody with 250+ wins.    The very large number of pitchers from the 1970s and 1980s with 250+ wins made it impossible to select them all in the BBWAA vote, but I do believe that, in time, they will all or almost all get in.    And Tommy John, whose name has entered the American Language, is not likely to be forgotten.

The Johnson Twins

            Walter Johnson, as noted earlier, had more seasons as his league’s best starting pitcher—9—than anyone else in history.   By this method, Cy Young at the end of his career was the number one pitcher of all time by the margin of 166 to 97.   Christy Mathewson got to 127 points, and he then ranked as the #2 starting pitcher.   Walter Johnson passed Mathewson in 1924, added a few more points in 1925 and 1926, and retired with a career total of 144.   Lefty Grove got to 127 points, tying Mathewson, in 1939.     

            And there the leaders sat, for several generations:  Cy Young, 166, Walter Johnson, 144, Mathewson, 127, Grove 127.  That was the leader board in 1940, in 1950, in 1960, in 1970.    From 1939 to 1956 there was no change in the top ten list, which ran from Cy Young to Eddie Plank.   Finally, in 1957, Warren Spahn made the leader board, and then Robin Roberts in ’58.   Spahn made a run at the top four, and made it up to 105, but he was still 20+ points short of the top four.  Whitey Ford made the bottom of the list in 1964, Sandy Koufax in 1966, Jim Bunning in 1967, and Juan Marichal in 1971, but  none of those came within 50 points of Grove and Mathewson at 127. 

            Tom Seaver broke into the top ten list in 1976, and he made it up to 117 points, in fifth place all time, but the top four had not changed by 1980.   Or 1990.    By 1990 this was the top ten list:

            The top four had not changed in 51 years.   It didn’t change in 1991, or 1992, or 1993.   Roger Clemens knocked Bert Blyleven out of the #10 spot in 1994, but then had a couple of down years, and the list did not change in 1995 or 1996.    By the year 2000 the top four had not changed for 61 years, but a challenge was on the horizon:

            The all-time four-man starting rotation was Cy Young, Walter Johnson, Christy Mathewson and Lefty Grove—and it had been that way for 61 years.    Finally, in 2001, the new millennium arrived:

            But Clemens, Maddux and Randy Johnson were not old pitchers ready to retire; they were still among the best in baseball.    The list began to move every year.   In 2002 Greg Maddux joined Clemens among the all-time starting four:

            Meanwhile Randy Johnson—almost as old as Clemens--was having a string of incredible seasons, and charging up the all-time list.   Johnson’s string of big seasons ended in 2003—but Clemens and Maddux continued to move in on Walter Johnson:

            Cy Young and Walter Johnson had now ranked one and two on the list for 80 years, from 1924 to 2004.   

            We talked about the 2004 season early in the article.  That was the year in which Roger Clemens won the National League Cy Young Award, going 18-4 for Houston, but Randy Johnson was actually better despite a won-lost log of just 16-14.    Maddux wasn’t bad, either; he was 16-11 for the Cubs.   All three of them continued to move up:

            Clemens ousted the Big Train from his position as the #2 starting pitcher of all time, a position which he had held for more than a lifetime, while Maddux and Randy  Johnson had now pushed Mathewson and Grove down to 6^th and 7^th.  

            Maddux began to run out of gas in 2005, finishing 13-15 with a 4.24 ERA, but Clemens and Randy Johnson—both of them several years older than Maddux--remained among the best pitchers in the game:

            And Pedro Martinez was now on the list!  What is the world coming to?   The all-time starting rotation was now Cy Young, Roger Clemens and the Johnson Twins, Randy and Walter—but was Randy really better than Walter?

            The list did not change in 2006 or 2007, but it did change again in 2008; I’ll deal with that later.

            This is just one way of looking at the issue, but no matter how you look at it, Roger Clemens, Randy Johnson and Greg Maddux were all doing things that pitchers had not done for a very, very long time, if ever.    They were all making an argument to be considered among the greatest pitchers of all time.

            This is, in a sense, disorienting, and it created a sense, among a lot of fans, that “something is not right here.”  Something is not right here, when all of these modern players begin to do things that have never been done before.  It violates the natural order of the universe.

            I see it a little differently.   To me, for new players to challenge constantly for their position among the greatest ever is the natural order of the universe.   What was un-natural was for the list not to change for 60 years.   I’m entirely willing to accept Clemens and Randy and Greg Maddux all being among the five greatest starting pitchers of all time.   I don’t have any problem at all with their all being part of the same generation, and I don’t see anything about that fact which is in any way suspicious or disturbing.   After all, Cy Young, Christy Mathewson and Walter Johnson were all in the major leagues from 1907 through 1911, a five-year span.  Does that mean they can’t all be considered all-time greats? 

            I regard Randy Johnson as one of the greatest pitchers of all time.  He’s third on this list, pushing Walter to fourth.  Has he really been greater than Walter Johnson?   En. . .I don’t know.   I’d put him on the same level.   I’ll worry about ranking them another time.

Addie Joss

            The Hall of Fame rules had always stated that a player had to play in the majors for ten years to qualify for the Hall of Fame.   Addie Joss played only 9 years, but the Veteran’s Committee elected him anyway.   The Hall of Fame amended to rules to make this legal.  My belief is that they actually amended the rules after the fact.  The Veteran’s Committee elected him; the Hall of Fame realized that this was not within the rules, so they amended the rules and pretended that it had all been done in legal order to avoid their being a stink about it.

            Joss was elected essentially on the strength of the argument that he was comparable to Sandy Koufax.   Koufax pitched twelve years and was 165-87; Joss pitched nine years and was 160-97.    Koufax had won-lost records of 25-5, 26-8 and 27-9; Joss was 27-11, 24-11 and 21-9.  

            Of course, Joss in reality was not remotely comparable to Sandy Koufax, but the people who elected him were told that he was, and believed it.   Joss was a very fine pitcher, but he won 27 games in an era in which the best pitchers won 35 and 40.    This is a list of the most wins in the American League in a season between 1901 and 1910:

            Joss was a fine pitcher, but winning 27 games when the other best pitchers are winning 40 is not the same as winning 27 games when the other best pitchers are winning 20.     This is what our system measures:  How the player compares to his contemporaries.   Sandy Koufax, 74, Addie Joss, 32.

Jim Kaat

            Similar to Tommy John, he won 280 games in an era in which a lot of pitchers did, thus earning him only 42 points in our evaluation.   I still believe that he should and will eventually be in the Hall of Fame, but he ranks far behind Blyleven. 

Tim Keefe

            The number one pitcher on the all-time list from 1888 to 1897, he was finally pushed out of the top ten by Whitey Ford in 1965.

Bob Lemon

            A gray-area Hall of Fame selection, Lemon was one of the best pitchers in the American League for eight years and earned 38 points in our system.  In our system he ranks about even with Camilo Pascual, Dave Stieb and Frank Tanana.   Most pitchers at that level are not in the Hall of Fame.

Mickey Lolich

            See comments on Vida Blue, Orel Hershiser, Paul Derringer.   Same thing; in this method as in others, Lolich got close to Hall of Fame standards, but just pulled up a little bit short. 

Ted Lyons

            Made it into the Hall of Fame with 33 points, or three strong seasons.  Credentials similar to Vic Willis, Red Faber, Waite Hoyt; got into the Hall of Fame because he had 250+ wins and everybody with 250+ wins got in, even though his “good seasons” count is a little on the short side.

Greg Maddux

            See comments on the Johnson Twins. 

Juan Marichal

            Ranked among the best pitchers in the National League nine times, and ranked second five times—behind Koufax in ’63, ’65 and ’66, Gibson in ’68, Seaver in ’69.  

Rube Marquard

            A Hall of Fame anomaly with only 24 points in our survey and only 201 career wins.   Elected in large part because of his appearance in The Glory of Their Times. 

Pedro Martinez

            Attempting a comeback at this time, he has 113 points by our method—making him the #9 pitcher of all time—and is still young enough to add to that total if he can get back to being one of the best pitchers in the game.   He ranked as the number one pitcher in the National League in 1997, in the American League in 1999, 2000 and 2002, and has had eleven seasons as one of the best pitchers in his league.   He is way, way beyond the line of being a Hall of Fame pitcher, whatever his career win total. 

Carl Mays

            A marginal Hall of Famer, were it not for the fact that he was the most hated man in baseball in his era.   He has 41 points by this system, putting him below the Hall of Fame line, but ahead of thirteen Hall of Fame starting pitchers, not including the guys like Babe Ruth and Albert Spalding who were really elected for other reasons.

Jack Morris

            Jack Morris has for some reason become the counterweight to Bert Blyleven in the Hall of Fame debate; whenever somebody argues for Blyleven, somebody else always says they liked Jack Morris better.   Morris does well in our analysis—not nearly as well as Blyleven, but well enough.  He has 54 points, which is above the Hall of Fame line.  I counted him in my earlier analysis as a recently retired pitcher.

Jamie Moyer

            Moyer had zero career points and only 72 career wins at the age of 33; he now has 41 points and somewhere around 250 career wins.   The Cubs came up with Moyer and Maddux in the same season, 1986.   They were building for 2003. 

Mike Mussina

            Mike Mussina did stunningly well in our study, ranking as the #10 starting pitcher of all time.    Mussina had no seasons as the league’s number one pitcher, but fourteen seasons in which he ranked among the best starting pitchers in his league.  Only Warren Spahn, Cy Young, Roger Clemens, Walter Johnson and Greg Maddux had as many.   

Kid Nichols

            In 1890 there was an upstart major league, the Players League, which created huge amounts of opportunity for new players, as many of the established players left for the new league.   Among the new players who answered the call were Kid Nichols and Cy Young.

            Throughout the 1890s Nichols ran neck and neck with Cy Young.   The number one pitcher on the all-time list, at the start of their careers, was Tim Keefe.   Nichols made it onto the leaderboard first, in 1893.   In 1894 Nichols vaulted to fourth on the list, while Cy Young made it onto the list in 9^th place.   In 1895 Cy Young had a great year, pushing him up close behind Nichols at 52-50; they ranked fourth and fifth on the list.   In 1896 they moved up to second and third.

            Both of them were having great years every year.   Amos Rusie was the most famous pitcher of that era, but Nichols and Young were better; not as flashy, didn’t throw as hard, didn’t dominate the news coverage in the same way, but they were better pitchers. 

            In 1897 Nichols was the best pitcher in baseball; he was 31-11.   That year Nichols and Cy Young both moved past Tim Keefe, who had ranked as the #1 starting pitcher in baseball history for about ten years.  It was #1 Nichols, #2 Cy Young.   In 1898 Nichols was again the best pitcher in baseball (31-12); Nichols and Young consolidated their hold as the two greatest starting pitchers in baseball history up to that point.

            After that Nichols’ career kind of stalled out, and Cy Young pulled gradually away from him.   The interesting thing is that Nichols’ career stalled out not from injury or ineffectiveness, but for a variety of other reasons.   His team collapsed underneath him.  In 1900 Nichols was 39 runs better than an average pitcher, park-adjusted, which is a huge number, but finished just 13-16 due to poor offensive support.    After the turn of the century there was a period of economic turmoil, like that in 1890, in which new leagues formed and players who were unhappy with their National League contracts jumped to other leagues.   But whereas Cy Young, Jack Chesbro and others jumped to the American League, Nichols jumped instead to the Kansas City franchise in the Western League.    The Western League failed to establish itself as a rival major; Nichols went 26-7 there in 1902 and 21-12 in 1903, but this doesn’t count because it’s now regarded as a minor league.    Cy Young, winning 30 games a year in the American League, pulled far ahead of him.

            Nichols returned to the National League in 1904 as player/manager of the St. Louis Cardinals.   The Cardinals were a sad sack operation, finishing in last-place at 43-94 in 1903.   Nichols improved them to near .500 in 1904 (75-79), in part because he himself won 21 games (21-13)—but was fired early in the 1905 season in a dispute over watching the gate.   Major league players in that era were supposed to stand at the gates before the game and take tickets; in fact, even during the game players who were not actually in the contest were delegated to stand at the gate to prevent people from sneaking in without a ticket.   Nichols said that he had plenty to do with managing the team and pitching, and refused to take a turn watching the gates, and he was fired as manager and then traded to Philadelphia as a result of this dispute.   He went 10-6 for Philadelphia with a 2.27 ERA. 

            He started slowly in 1906, however, and was released early in the season.   He wound up his career with 97 points in our system, making him the number two pitcher in baseball history up to that point.   He remained in the top ten list until pushed off of the list by Greg Maddux in 1999. 

Roy Oswalt

            One of the most surprising things about this study was the stunning performance of Roy Oswalt.   Oswalt has already ranked among the best pitchers in the National League in seven seasons—every season from 2001 through 2008 except 2003, when he pitched really well but had some injuries.    Because he has not had a Cy Young season he is, I think, not generally regarded as a Hall of Fame pitcher.  But by our method, seven seasons among the best pitchers in your league is a lot, and seven seasons ranking among the best pitchers in a 16-team league is quite a bit more impressive than seven seasons among the best pitchers in an 8-team league.   We credit Roy Oswalt with 61 points through 2008, which is well above the standard of a Hall of Fame career.

            Stats, of course, can be looked at through a limitless variety of lenses, and I am in no way suggesting that this one will or should take precedence over the others.   Oswalt has about 140 career wins, as of now; to be a serious Hall of Fame candidate he certainly needs to push that up past 200, and probably up somewhere around 250.    But what he has already done is extremely impressive.   Until I did this study, I really had no idea how impressive.   He entered this season 65 games over .500 in his career.    That is a Hall of Fame number.    Maybe it’s not a Hall of Fame number if, like Johnny Allen or Vic Raschi, you only win 140 games in your career; maybe it’s not a Hall of Fame number if, like Dave McNally, you only win 184.   But many of the pitchers who are in the Hall of Fame aren’t 65 games over .500. 

Jim Palmer

            82 points, an obvious Hall of Famer.

Billy Pierce

            Not counting active and recently retired pitchers like Jack Morris, Saberhagen, David Wells, Dwight Gooden and David Cone, there are three pitchers in history who are not in the Hall of Fame although they had 47 or more strong season points:  Blyleven, Guidry, and Billy Pierce.    Pierce drew 5 votes for the Hall of Fame in 1970 (2%), 7 in 1971 (still 2%), and never more than 4 after that.    We might safely say that most people did not think of him as a Hall of Fame pitcher.

            His record, however, has its points.  We rank him among the best pitchers in the American League in 1951, when he pitched 240 innings with a 3.04 ERA, and in 1952, when he pitched 255 innings and cut the ERA to 2.58.   He was certainly among the best pitchers in the league in 1953, when he was 18-12, was second in the league in ERA at 2.72, and led the league in strikeouts with 186.   He was certainly among the best pitchers in the American League in 1955, when he became the only major league ERA qualifier of the 1950s to have an ERA starting with “1”—1.97.   The best ERA of the decade.

            He was certainly among the best pitchers in the American League in 1956, when he was 20-9, and he was certainly among the best pitchers in the American League in 1957, when he was 20-12.   He was certainly among the best pitchers in the American League in 1958, when he was 17-11 and second in the league in ERA.   We have him among the best pitchers in the American League in 1960, but granted, that was because the American League in 1960 had a serious shortage of quality pitchers; see comments on Jim Bunning.  We gave him nothing for 1962; he was 16-6 for the Giants, helping to lift them to the National League pennant, but we do not rank him among the best pitchers in the league.    

            Pierce had a career record of 211 wins, 169 losses.   There are quite a few pitchers with records like that, and some of them are in the Hall of Fame (Jesse Haines, 210-158, Don Drysdale, 209-166, Hal Newhouser, 207-150, Rube Marquard, 201-177), and some of them are not (Milt Pappas, 209-164, Vida Blue, 209-161, Bob Welch, 211-146).  One of the things that seems to distinguish the Hall of Famers from the non-Hall of Famers in that group is good ERAs.   Don Drysdale is in the Hall of Fame in part because he was 229 runs better than an average pitcher; Milt Pappas and Vida Blue had basically the same record, but they were 130 runs and 89 runs better than average, not 229.   Bob Welch had basically the same won-lost record as Hal Newhouser, but Welch was 56 runs better than an average pitcher, park-adjusted; Newhouser was 309 runs better than league.

            But Billy Pierce was 224 runs better than an average pitcher, park adjusted—about the same number as Drysdale.   Among the pitchers with comparable records he ranks better than anyone except Newhouser, Drysdale and Kevin Brown.   I am not saying that Pierce should be in the Hall of Fame, but it does seem that he was just overlooked somehow, and that he should have been taken more seriously as a candidate than he was.

J. R. Richard

            Got to 32 points quickly before his health condition stopped him.   (His career was ended suddenly in 1980 by a stroke, or something very much like a stroke.)   Actually a contemporary American League pitcher, Dennis Leonard, was piling up points even quicker than Richard was in that era.   Leonard got to 41 in his half a career.

Eppa Rixey

            Only 30 points in this system; got to the Hall of Fame by hanging around long enough to win 266 games, although he lost 251.   Rixey was the Jim Kaat of the 1920s—a big left-hander who was very graceful on the mound, fielded his position extremely well and had excellent control.

Kenny Rogers

            Another pitcher with a career won-lost record like Pierce and Drysdale.   Had only three seasons ranking among the best pitchers in his league, earning him only 18 points in this analysis.

Babe Ruth

            Ranks as the second best pitcher in the American League in 1916, behind Walter Johnson, third in 1917, behind Walter and Jim Bagby.    14 points.

Nolan Ryan

            Because of his walks and losses, we do not rank Ryan as the #1 pitcher in his league in any season; of course, some people do.   We have him second in 1973, when he struck out 383 batters and was 21-16, and second in 1987, when he struck out 301 and was 16-10.   We rank him among the best pitchers in his league in 13 seasons, for a total of 70 points.

Bret Saberhagen

            45 points.  Like Vida Blue, Orel Hershiser, Paul Derringer and Carl Mays, he falls just short of a Hall of Fame standard in this analysis as he does in many other approaches. 

Johan Santana

            With 60 points through 2008, he has already done the heavy lifting for a Hall of Fame career.   What he has to do from now on is basically to stay healthy for six or eight years and not embarrass himself.   

Curt Schilling

            Somewhat like Juan Marichal in a Hall of Fame analysis, we credit him with no seasons as his league’s best pitcher, but five seasons ranking second or third, and ten seasons ranking among his league’s best pitchers.   We see him as being far, far beyond a Hall of Fame standard, with 86 points.   He’s actually close to twice the Hall of Fame cutoff—ignoring entirely his post-season exploits.

Herb Score

            15 points in two seasons before being stopped by injury.

Curt Simmons

            Like Larry Jackson.  He won 193 games in an impressive career, but had only four seasons ranking among the best pitchers in his league, and never ranked higher than seventh.   10 points.

John Smoltz

            Comparable to Schilling.  We have him with 74 points, which is well beyond a Hall of Fame standard, but this ignores his fine post-season record and his years as a reliever, which would push him up even higher.

Warren Spahn

            He had 17 seasons as one of the best pitchers in his league, which ties with Cy Young for the top spot.   But unlike Young he had only two seasons as his league’s BEST pitcher and no historic seasons, so he ranks “just” 13^th in history.

Luis Tiant

            See comments on Catfish Hunter. 

Fernando Valenzuela

            Earned 37 points in his first six years in the National League, appearing to be on a Hall of Fame path, but ran out of gas at that point.  

Dazzy Vance

            One of the most striking things about this study is the dearth of dominant pitchers after Walter Johnson and Grover Cleveland Alexander.    After Alex and Walter there really isn’t another great pitcher who comes along until Lefty Grove.

            Not quite getting to my point.   There are really no great pitchers in the 1920s.   There is Vance, who was a phenomenal pitcher but had only half of a career, although that half a career was certainly enough to put him in the Hall of Fame.  In the past I have tended to look at this as a function of the norms of the era.   The teens were a pitchers’ era; pitchers won 30 games, struck out 300 batters, and had ERAs in the ones.   The twenties were a hitter’s era, so the norms were different.

            But it’s not that, really; this system adjusts THOSE differences out of existence by comparing each pitcher to the other pitchers in the same league in the same year.   Even when you do that, there’s just nobody who stands out in the way that Mathewson and Cy Young and Kid Nichols and Walsh and Waddell and Walter and Alex stand out from the previous decades.    The great pitchers of the 1920s are like Waite Hoyt and Pennock and Shocker and Shawkey and Burleigh Grimes and Remy Kremer.   They’re good, but they’re not all that good.   Walter and Alex continued to dominate until they were almost 40 because there just wasn’t anybody coming up behind them who was on the same level except Vance.

            The 1930s, now; the 1930s have truly great pitchers—Grove, of course, but also Carl Hubbell, Dizzy Dean, Bob Feller, Lefty Gomez and Red Ruffing.  OK, Gomez and Ruffing weren’t on the same level as Walter and Alex, but they were better than Waite Hoyt and Herb Pennock.   Dazzy Vance is really the only great pitcher of the 1920s.

Rube Waddell

            Slides over the Hall of Fame line with 50 points.   A colorful character but, with 193 career wins, not overwhelmingly qualified for immortality. 

Ed Walsh

            60 points.  A  lot of people now confuse Waddell and Walsh because they pitched in the same league in the same era and have similar names and similar career records (193-143 for Waddell, 195-126 for Walsh), but it’s like confusing Albert Belle and Albert Pujols.   As personalities, you can’t get much more different than Rube Waddell and Ed Walsh.  

Bucky Walters

            Does not do well in this analysis, with only four seasons among the best in his league and a career total of 29 points.

Lon Warneke

            Warneke’s records are a lot like Billy Pierce’s—22-6, 18-13, 22-10, 20-13, 16-10, 17-9.   He had six seasons among the best pitchers in the National League, and in 1932-33 appeared to be poised to be the best.    But he had some little injuries, and Hubbell and Dean zoomed past him like he was standing still.    36 points. ..short of a Hall of Fame standard, but better than six or seven guys who did make it.

David Wells

            David Wells, by our analysis, appears to surpass a historic Hall of Fame standard.   He had nine years ranking as one of the best pitchers in his league—1990, when he was with the Blue Jays, 1995, which he split between the Tigers and the Reds, 1997 and ’98, when he was with the Yankees, 1999 and 2000, when he was back with the Blue Jays, 2002 and 2003, when he was back with the Yankees, and 2005, when he was with the Red Sox.    Although he had only one season ranking higher than fourth in his league, nine seasons of high-quality pitching is a big number, and he rings in at 54 points.

            I don’t know that I’d vote for him.   I got to see him a lot in 2005, when he was 15-7 for the Red Sox, and he was amazing.  He was 42 years old by then and fat, but he had phenomenal strength in his back and shoulders, and just amazing balance.    His bread and butter pitch was a big 12-to-6 curve ball, and he could spin that thing in there and nail the bottom of the strike zone with it like it was nothing.   That wasn’t all he had; his fast ball was still pretty good, and he had A+ control of everything.  If the hitter leaned in he would put the fastball high and tight; if the hitter leaned back he would pitch away.

            He was one of those guys, like Vladimir and Bo Jackson and Ron Cey, that sometimes you felt like you should check his DNA and make sure he was all human.   I certainly have never seen anyone else who had the same level of command of his curve ball, and in terms of things like repeating his delivery and changing the hitter’s eye level, I never saw anybody better.

            But his career is chopped up into a million little pieces, in Toronto and Detroit and New York and Boston and San Diego, and mostly that was his own doing; he was always looking for the next opportunity.    The Hall of Fame doesn’t much like those guys who bounce around like loose tennis balls, and I don’t either.   When you’re building a team, you need people you can count on to be there for awhile.

Early Wynn

            Despite 300 wins he barely passes the Hall of Fame marker, with 48 points for seasons among the league’s best pitchers.   If he’d had 290 wins, he might have had to wait a long time for the call from Cooperstown. 

Carlos Zambrano

            17 points through 2008; has a long way to go.   Peavy, Beckett and Sabathia are all in a very similar position.   None of them is anywhere near a Hall of Fame pass at this point.