OK, in today’s group we have 18 players, whose names I gave you yesterday.  The essential definition of this group is that these are guys who played at least briefly at a level suggestive of Hall of Fame ability, but who for one reason or another clearly fell short of a Hall of Fame standard.   Really good players; nobody thinks they should be in the Hall of Fame.  

            I will rank these players along with those we talked about yesterday.

29.   Herb Score (75-58, 562)

            Herb Score was supposed to be Sandy Koufax before Sandy Koufax was.   Like Koufax he was a left-handed pitcher who could throw a baseball through a bank vault, like Koufax he had enough movement on his fastball to make it nearly unhittable, and like Koufax he was a New Yorker.

            He was just two years older than Koufax, but six years ahead of him in development.   Score went 22-5 for Indianapolis in 1954, striking out 330 hitters in 250 innings.   Moving up to Cleveland in 1955 he went 16-10 as a 21-year-old, striking out 245 hitters, and 20-9 as a Sophomore, striking out 263.    The two highest strikeout totals by any major league pitcher in the 1950s were by Herb Score, 1956, and Herb Score, 1955.  Koufax was also a rookie in 1955, but didn’t reach that level until 1961.

            On May 7, 1957, Gil McDougald hit a line drive off of Score’s face, breaking several bones in his face, leaving him temporarily blinded and gushing blood.    Score was out the rest of the year, tore a tendon in 1958, and was never an effective pitcher again.   He retired after posting an 0-6 record for Indianapolis in 1963.

            We credit Score with Won-Lost contributions of 23-12 in 1955 (when he was 16-10), and 28-9 in 1956 (when he was 20-9).   Pitchers generally have about the same number of Game Shares as decisions; generally the wins and losses attributed to the pitcher are near to a match for his credited Wins and Losses.   Score had significantly more Game Shares than decisions, and I wanted to take a minute to explain that.

            The “area of responsibility” assigned to a pitcher depends mostly on his innings pitched, to an extent on his decisions and his Saves, but it also depends on the extent to which the pitcher takes “control” of his innings.   I don’t mean “control” in the sense of throwing strikes; I mean control in the sense of influence.    Some pitchers throw strikes, and put the success of the team in the hands of their teammates.    Other pitchers pursue strikeouts at the risk of walks.  We don’t treat these pitchers equally.   We hold the pitcher more responsible for what happens when he is on the mound if he has more strikeouts, more walks, and more home runs allowed.  The extent to which a pitcher is held responsible for what happens while he is on the mound varies with the pitcher.

            Over the course of baseball history, this “pitcher’s influence” has steadily expanded.    If I was to say what percentage of baseball is pitching, I would guess that in 1876 the answer was 25% or less; now, it is near 40%.     In 1906 John McGraw estimated that it was 30%, which I think is about right for that period.   Now it is much more.

            But Herb Score’s influence on the innings he pitched was so extraordinarily high that, even though the normal percentages have increased and increased and increased since his time, Score remains number one on the list.   In his era, he was about 80% over the league norm in strikeouts, and about 60% over in walks.

            Not everybody agrees that this is an appropriate adjustment.   “If a pitcher goes 20-9 with a 2.53 ERA in 249 innings,” one might argue, “what difference does it make whether he does that with 300 strikeouts or 30?”  But as I see it, it must be treated differently.   The pitcher does not really win the game or lose it—nor does the pitcher truly record the outs that make up innings, nor does the pitcher truly allow the runs to score.  The team is always involved in it.   What the pitcher really does is strike batters out and walk them, and give up home runs.   The rest of it directly involves the team.    Our focus here is what the pitcher is truly responsible for.

            Score’s career was short but dramatic, and he is still widely remembered today.   Two gentlemen ranking the 100 Greatest Players of all time once included Score on their list.  His area of influence is large relative to his innings, but his career is so short that there’s just not a lot there to rank him based on, and I rank him last among these 29 players.   (Team Success Percentage, .591.)

28.   Bob Locker  (71-46, .603)

27.   Tony Conigliaro (95-82, .537) 

            My good friend Craig Wright recently wrote a couple of excellent articles about Tony Conigliaro, and I will refer you to those rather than cannibalize them here.   Starting his major league career at the age of 19, Conigliaro had won-lost contributions of 13-9, 16-12 and 17-13 his first three years, and had stepped up a notch (he was 13-6) when his career was essentially ended by a terrible beaning on August 18, 1967.   Although he did have one more good year in 1970, he was never able to realize the great career that lay ahead of him.   Team Success Percentage, .435. 

26.   Johnny Murphy (88-58, .600)

            Murphy was a contemporary and teammate of Johnny Allen, Spud Chandler and Ernie Bonham, also on this list.  Both Murphy and Allen made their debuts with the Yankees in 1932.   Murphy, a native New Yorker, made 20 starts in 1934, but was dropped from the rotation due to a tender arm, and became a reliever.   He was really baseball’s second “career” reliever, after Firpo Marberry, who is also on this list, but he didn’t have the arm that Firpo did or that Johnny Allen did.   He was a guy who was effective as long as you didn’t push beyond his limits, but Joe McCarthy liked him and liked to have him around—unlike Johnny Allen, who McCarthy thought was dumb and more trouble than he was worth.   Murphy has no high-impact seasons, his best season being 1934, when we credit him with a won-lost contribution of 16-9.

            Pitching for the Yankees in the 1930s and 1940s, Murphy had a Team Success Percentage of .850, which is a record as far as you know right now, but we’ll break it later on up the list.  He stayed in baseball as a scout and General Manager for years after he was finished as a player.

25.  Brian McRae  (134-151, .470)

24.  Tiny Bonham (111-69, .618)

            Tiny Bonham, ironically nicknamed because of his size, was called up by the Yankees for the stretch drive in 1940, and went 9-3 with a 1.90 ERA down the stretch in his rookie season.   The rules of the time stated that a pitcher was eligible for the ERA title if he pitched 10 complete games, which Bonham did, but the American League refused to honor him, and recognized Bob Feller as the league ERA champion instead, with an ERA of 2.62.   Bonham’s outstanding pitching failed to lift the Yankees to the league championship, ending a string of four consecutive World Championships for them.

            Bonham pitched 226 innings, giving up 57 earned runs for a 2.27 ERA in both 1942 and 1943—identical numbers both seasons.   He had 71 strikeouts each year. We credit him with a won-lost contribution of 18-7 each year.   His control was quite outstanding, among the best of any pitcher ever.  Bonham was outstanding from 1940 to 1945, of little value after that.   His team success percentage, .578, is unimpressive for a pitcher who spent the first half of his career with the Yankees.

23.  George Case  (138-148, .482)

22.  Vince Coleman  (144-166, .465)

21.  Steve Gromek (140-120, .538)

20.  Sam Chapman (138-152, .475)

19.  J. R. Richard (125-97, .565)

            Like Herb Score, J. R. Richard was a dominant power pitcher who was stopped in mid-career, in his case by a stroke.   Like Bob Veale, he was huge, and wild.  Like Koufax and the Big Unit, he seemed to be making the transition to a higher level of performance at the time that he was stopped by the stroke.   (Team Success Percentage, .543.)

18.   Scott Fletcher (147-153, .490)

17.   Jack McDowell (126-87, .548)

            A pitcher and rock singer, we credit McDowell with won-lost contributions of 19-9 in 1991, 19-10 in 1992, and 19-8 in 1993, Win Shares Value of 24 each year.   He was probably one of the last pitchers to dramatically shorten his career by throwing complete games with reckless disregard for pitch limits.    Team Success Percentage, .625.

16.  Bobby Higginson (142-121, .540)

15.  Jim Ray Hart (130-79, .622)

            Jim Ray Hart unexpectedly burst upon us as a favorite topic in the “Hey, Bill” section about two months ago, and we’ve probably said enough about him through those exchanges.  He was a very strong right-handed power hitter with the Giants in the 1960s, not much of a third baseman, and a colorful player who apparently still has many fans who enjoy Bill James Online because frankly ESPN never heard of guys like Jim Ray Hart.

            Jim Ray Hart in his first four years in the majors had won-lost contributions of 23-8, 20-12, 22-10 and 25-7.   Assuming that an MVP candidate season is any season that scores with a Win Share Value of 30 or greater, Hart hit that level two times—1964 (23-8, WS value 31) and 1967 (25-7, WS value 34).  He never had a good year after 1967.

            Hart didn’t have a reputation as a good defensive player, but we really don’t see him as a big defensive negative.   We have him with a Defensive Won-Lost contribution of 22-27—comparable to many other players on this list.   He played a more demanding defensive position than the left fielders, although he played it not especially well.

            Hart’s Team Success Percentage was .591, which is pretty good, and he had a career Win Share Value of 156.

14.   Spud Chandler (123-54, .696)

            Any set of movies that you list at random will accidentally have themes and elements in common.    So it is with ballplayers; any group of players that you define will accidentally have themes.    Our themes for this group include college football players, Joe McCarthy, Yankees of the 1930s and 1940s, and power pitchers with very short careers.

            Like Riggs Stephenson and Sam Chapman, Spud Chandler was a college football star, in his case a halfback at Georgia.    In that his career was frequently interrupted by injuries, he was often used to illustrate the principle that football players were too tightly muscled to be successful in baseball, although successful he certainly was.

            Chandler was the American League’s MVP in 1943, and won 20 games again with a 2.10 ERA in 1946.   His career winning percentage, .717, is the highest ever for a pitcher with 100 or more wins.  His team success percentage, .851, is the highest we have seen so far—1 point higher than Johnny Murphy’s.

13.   Bob Veale (145-116, .556)

            The ace of the Pirates in the 1960s, Veale was a 6-foot-7 inch left-handed fireballer, wild and very comparable to a young Randy Johnson, although he did not make the transition to true greatness that the Unit was able to accomplish.   Although Veale was never able to actually win 20 games, we credit him with individual won-lost contributions of 24-13 in 1964, 21-15 in 1965, 21-14 in 1966, and 20-11 in 1968.    His “Game Shares” are larger than his decisions because of the “Herb Score Effect”, discussed earlier.     Team Success Percentage, .639.

12.  Pete Fox  (161-156, .509)

11.  Johnny Allen (145-107, .576)

            Johnny Allen was an immensely talented pitcher who pitched for the Yankees from 1932 to 1935, for the Indians from 1936 to 1940, and for other teams after that.

            Allen’s career was undermined by his uncontrollable temper, which made him the model for the pitcher Gil Gamesh in the Philip Roth’s satirical fiction, The Great American Novel.   Allen went 17-4 as a rookie in 1932, won 20 games for the Indians in 1936, and still holds the American League record for winning percentage in a season, at .938 (15-1 in 1937).

            Allen pitched for very good teams (Team Success Percentage of .669), and this inflated his winning percentages to an extent.   His career won-lost record was 142-75; we make his individual won-lost contribution at 145-107, which is not quite as good but still really good. 

            There is material about Allen found in many, many books from his era, because he was with the Yankees, because he was so notorious for his temper, and because he was a very talented pitcher.

10.   Thornton Lee  (158-127, .555)

9.  Bobby Shantz  (153-99, .607)

            Bobby Shantz was the American League Most Valuable Player in 1952, when he was 24-7 for the Philadelphia A’s.   He was a tiny, tiny man, and sportswriters would write rhapsodically about his courage and determination, his great heart.   He was almost certainly over-worked during his MVP season and the previous season, and this led to arm injuries that left him ineffective for several years after that.

            We credit Shantz with an individual Won-Lost contribution of 29-6 in 1952, which is a Win Shares Value of 40, which is certainly an MVP-type number.   His second-best Win Shares Value is 19, in 1951 (16-9) and 1957 (15-6); he won 18 games in 1951 and led the American League in ERA in 1957.    His Team Success Percentage was .500.

8.   Firpo Marberry (159-104, .604)

            Firpo Marberry, whose real name was “Fred”, was nicknamed “Firpo” because people thought he looked like the boxer Luis Firpo.    He hated the nickname.   Firpo had a famous scowl; calling Marberry “Firpo” was a way of suggesting that he had a dour aspect.   It was a little like being called “Iron Mike”.

            Marberry was the first “real” reliever in baseball history—that is, the first relief pitcher who was brought into the game not because the starting pitcher was ineffective, but because the manager had more confidence in the reliever and wanted him in the game at key moments.

            The use of Marberry as a reliever in 1924 and 1925 was stunningly far ahead of its time. Baseball in 1924 hadn’t even really reached the point at which relievers were old broken-down starters.   Relievers in 1924 were just young prospects who didn’t measure up as starters.   In this environment, Bucky Harris made Marberry—a hard-throwing young pitcher in whom he had much confidence—into more or less a modern reliever.

            And it worked.   The Washington Senators—first in war, first in peace, last in the American League—won the pennant in 1924 and 1925 after having finished under .500 in 1922 and 1923.    I have written about this before, but it is astonishing to me that nobody copied Harris’ usage of Marberry, Harris himself backed off of it, and it would be basically a half-century until the strategy of the game cycled back to where Harris had been in 1924.

            Why?   All I can really say is Harris’ use of Marberry was so far ahead of its time that no one was prepared to copy it.   The thinking of the time was that

            1)  The starting pitcher should finish the game, and

            2)  Your best pitchers were the starting pitchers.

            Period.   It would be 40 years after Harris and Marberry until managers really began to give up on the idea that a starting pitcher should finish the game—BEGAN to.   In 1924 managers just were not prepared to think that you could gain an advantage by taking a hard-throwing young kid, and bringing him out of the bullpen when the game was on the line.

            And, because they weren’t, they re-interpreted Marberry’s success as failure.   They began to say that Marberry was effective for a few innings, but lacked the stamina to pitch a complete game.   They began to say that Marberry was a reliever until he learned to pace himself the way a starter had to.

            Marberry, having been shown to be an effective reliever, shuffled back and forth between starting and relief for the rest of his career.    He was effective in both roles, posting winning records and better-than-league ERAs almost every season.   While his career was too short to make him a serious Hall of Fame candidate, he was a historic figure, and we credit him with a won-lost contribution of 159-104, a .604 percentage.    His Team Success Percentage was an extremely good .641.

7.   Lu Blue (191-163, .539)

            Lu Blue was a switch-hitting first baseman in the 1920s who has two wonderful attributes:

            1)  A career on base percentage of .401, and

            2)  A really cool name.

            I used to have him on Ballpark teams, but I know as little about him as I do any player with a comparable career.

            Blue never had a big-impact year, never did have a season with a Win Share value of 30 or greater.   He had seasons with won-lost contributions of 20-14 (1922), 18-13 (1923), 21-13 (1928), 22-12 (1929), and 19-13 (1931), and also had several other seasons almost as good.   We have him with a career won-lost of 191-163, although his defensive record was only 37-64.   His Team Success Percentage was .511.

6.  Riggs Stephenson (171-81, .671)

            Riggs Stephenson was a quarterback at the University of Alabama, where he was described by the President of the University as “the embodiment of cleanliness, manliness, and courage” (God, I love Wikipedia.)   Dropping back to pass in a game in 1920, he was tackled by two linebackers, who destroyed his shoulder and left him unable to pass, or to throw a baseball.   He could really hit, though, and because he could really hit and couldn’t pass anymore, he signed with the Cleveland Indians and went (I believe) directly to the major leagues.

            He played some second base for the Indians from 1921 through 1925, hitting .330, .339 and .371, but his inability to throw the ball or even flip it consistently somewhere near its target made it impossible for him to win regular playing time, and his career with the Indians floundered.

            Stephenson’s stint with the Indians ended in 1925, but even the all-knowing Wikipedia and Retrosheet don’t know how this happened.   My guess is that he was released, and signed with a minor league team.   In any case the greatest manager of all time, Joe McCarthy, was at that time trolling for hitters, and Stephenson came to his attention.   McCarthy decided to do something that is very, very hard for managers:  he decided to make peace with the fact that Riggs Stephenson couldn’t throw.   Playing left field because he couldn’t throw well enough to play second base, Stephenson hit .344 in 1927, with 199 hits and 101 runs scored, and hit .362 with 110 RBI in 1929.

Stephenson had a career average of .336.   The man could flat out hit.   We credit him with an offensive won-lost contribution of 137-41,  and a defensive won-lost contribution of 34-40, which really isn’t bad at all.    This makes a Win Shares Value of 216.   Team Success Percentage of .603.

5.  Danny Tartabull (175-93, .654)

4.  Johnny Pesky (168-95, .640)

            The living embodiment of Boston Red Sox history, Johnny Pesky had 200 hits his first three seasons in the major leagues (1942, 1946 and 1947), scored 100 runs his first six years in the majors, drew 99 to 104 walks in three of those seasons, was a career .307 hitter, and began his career as a superior defensive shortstop.   We credit Pesky with:

an offensive won-lost record of 117-78,

a defensive won-lost contribution of 51-17, which is the best of any player on this list of 29 players,

an overall won-lost contribution of 168-95,

a Win Share Value of 205, and

a Team Success Percentage of .686.

I moved him up on the list just a little bit because, like Sam Chapman, he is missing the statistical record from what should probably have been the three best years of his career.

3.   Smokey Joe Wood  (177-86, .673)

            In 1912, as 97% of you know, Smokey Joe Wood went 34-5 with an ERA of 1.91.   We calculate his won-lost contribution for the season at 36-5—31-4 as a pitcher, plus 5-1 as a hitter.   As (again) most of you know, Wood had arm injuries after that, became an outfielder, and hit .366 as a part-time outfielder in 1921, then drove in 92 runs in 1922, when he was incidentally a teammate of Riggs Stephenson.   We also credit him with won-lost contributions of 15-2 in 1915, 25-10 in 1911, 15-11 in 1918, and 16-15 in 1922.    63% of his career value is as a pitcher, 31% as a hitter, and 6% as a fielder.   Team Success Percentage of .657. 

2.   Jacques Fournier  (209-102, .673)

            Jacques Fournier, by the way, was the name of a medieval French Bishop who was a leader of the French Inquisition, and eventually became Pope.   This Jacques Fournier did not become the Pope, as far as I know, but he is among the most interesting and among the most underrated players in baseball history.    To get the idea of him, let’s start with Steve Garvey.    Like Garvey, he was a first baseman; like Garvey, he was a quite outstanding hitter.   Like Garvey, he was a very handsome man, regarded as suave and sophisticated in an era in which many players were country boys and rubes.   Like Garvey, he was often accompanied by beautiful women.   Like Garvey, he talked about running for the Senate after his career, although, like Garvey, he never did.    Like Garvey, he does not appear to have been universally liked by his teammates.

            OK, flip a couple of switches.   Unlike Garvey, he was not a good defensive first baseman.   In particular, he had great difficulty in fielding bunts, which was a big, big deal in that era, because teams bunted more often than they violated prohibition, and they violated prohibition whenever they could find a bottle and a spare moment.  But also unlike Garvey, Fournier was a left-handed hitter, and unlike Garvey he had extremely good control of the strike zone.    He had on base percentages of .429 in 1915, .409 in 1921, .411 in 1923, .428 in 1924, and .446 in 1925.   If Garvey had been a left-handed hitter with on base percentages over .400, how valuable would he have been?

            In spite of this, Fournier had difficulty earning the respect of the teams for which he played, mostly because of the bunt thing.  Coming up with the White Sox in 1912, he became the White Sox regular first baseman from 1914 to 1916, and had two very good seasons.  In 1915 he hit .322 with 18 triples and 64 walks giving him a .920 OPS, the second-highest in the American League behind Ty Cobb, but 90 points ahead of Shoeless Joe Jackson, and 93 points ahead of Tris Speaker.  We credit him with a won-lost contribution for the season of 23-3.   The White Sox, having won no more than 78 games in any of the previous six seasons, won 93 games—a “5” season in our system.

            But when Fournier had a relatively poor season in 1916 (11-10), he lost his job, eventually drifting back to the minor leagues.   He was replaced at first base by Chick Gandil, who

            a) didn’t walk,

            b) didn’t hit .322, and

            c) organized the fix of the 1919 World Series.

            But he could field bunts, so at the time, this was regarded as a great coup for the White Sox.   A first baseman’s defense was considered much more critical than it later would be.   Also, in the wake of the Chicago Cubs’ great success under the leadership of Frank Chance, first basemen were expected to be team leaders.   Many times first basemen were big, muscular, assertive men, and many times these men were the dominant personalities on their teams.   White Sox owner Charles Comiskey himself had been such a player.  Fournier apparently did not fit the leadership mold that the White Sox were looking for.

            Resurfacing after a year or two in the Pacific Coast League and a brief trial with the Yankees (where he was let go after hitting .350 in 100 at bats), Fournier played first base for the Cardinals from 1920 to 1922, with outstanding offensive numbers.    In 1921, as the Lively Ball era began (making bunting less common), he hit .343 with 16 homers, giving him a won-lost contribution of 24-11.   In spite of this, Branch Rickey traded him to the Dodgers.

            We have to assume that Branch Rickey knew what he was doing.  Rickey had another young first baseman on hand, Jim Bottomley.  I’m not sure that Bottomley was actually better than Fournier, but he was ten years younger, and he is in the Hall of Fame.

            Fournier, 33 years old when he joined the Dodgers, had his best years there, hitting .351, .334, and .350 over the next three seasons with 22, 27 and 22 homers, with as many as 130 RBI and an OPS as high as 1.015.   He was among the best hitters in baseball, and we credit him with won-lost contributions of 23-5, 27-5 and 23-6.    He faded after that, was released after the 1927 season, and retired to Tacoma, although whether he ever got to know Ted Bundy in Tacoma is as yet undocumented.

            The theory of this group is that these are players who played at a Hall of Fame or near-Hall of Fame level, but for a period too short to make them Hall of Fame candidates.   Fournier, however, is above the minimum standards for Hall of Fame selection, and Roy Thomas would certainly be a legitimate Hall of Famer, were he selected.    We have Fournier with a career won-lost contribution of 209-102 (.673), and his team success percentage was .582.

1.  Roy Thomas (232-100, .698) 

            If Juan Pierre walked 120 times a year, he’d be Roy Thomas.   On all lists of players there are archetypical players who are always on one end of the scale or the other.   Roy Thomas is perhaps the most archetypical player in baseball history, a player with absolutely no power.    He hit 4 doubles in 140 games in 1900, 4 doubles in 1902, 5 doubles in 1901, 6 in 1905.  He usually hit zero homers.   We must assume that he was bunting 250 or 300 times a year, in that he didn’t seem to have had any bat speed.

            In spite of this, he was an immensely effective offensive player, because he was always on base, and a contributing defensive player as a center fielder with speed.   He has a third virtue:  consistency.   He had an overall winning percentage of .629 or better every year from 1899 to 1907, his first nine years in the league.

            One thing I think a lot of people have never really processed is that in Roy Thomas’ time, literally no one knew how many times each player walked.   It was not known—not known by the players, not known by the managers, not known by the reporters.   Players like Thomas, Topsy Hartsell and Miller Huggins performed in a statistical vacuum, getting on base because it was their job to get on base, but without any reward or recognition for the skill other than a general understanding that they were good at this.

            Thomas and Johnny Pesky are much alike, both low-power hitters with very high on base percentages, both playing key defensive positions.    Thomas created more runs relative to offensive context than Pesky, but Pesky was far more valuable in the field.   Pesky’s won-lost contributions for his first five seasons are 26-9, 27-6, 22-12, 20-13 and 23-11.    Thomas’ won-lost contributions for his first nine seasons are 27-9, 21-11, 23-6, 20-12, 20-8, 23-8, 26-7, 25-8 and 20-9.    The only real difference between them, as to how they would rate, is that Thomas had nine good seasons at the start of his career and Pesky—who missed three years out of the heart of his career due to World War II—had only five.   Thus, if you wanted to argue that Pesky should rank even with Roy Thomas, I couldn’t really say that you were wrong.  We have Roy Thomas with career won-lost contributions of 182-44 as a hitter, 50-56 as a fielder, overall 232-100, a .698 percentage.   There are many worse players in the Hall of Fame.

            Thomas’ Team Success Percentage:  .532.   

            In tomorrow’s article, we’ll build into our list ratings and comments for l6 more players: Albert Belle, Dolph Camilli, Rico Carty, Dom DiMaggio, Nomar Garciaparra, Ron Guidry, Babe Herman, Charlie Keller, Sal Maglie, Jim Maloney, Don Mattingly, Don Newcombe, Tony Oliva, Allie Reynolds, Hal Trosky and Ken Williams.

(Note: The numbers in parentheses are each player's Win Shares Loss Shares and Win Shares Percentage.  Win Shares Value and Team Success Percentage are defined in this article.)