Recently in "Hey, Bill", I was asked a question about Omar Vizquel:
Hey Bill, a couple of days ago you suggested Omar Vizquel might 'stumble into' the HoF. Can you help me, an Indians fan, understand how he differs from 1st year of eligibility HoF inductee Ozzie Smith? Thanks.
Asked by: Glkanter
Answered: February 27, 2011
To which I answered "Ozzie Smith had a reputation as a defensive wonder, and had extraordinarily good defensive statistics. Omar Vizquel had the same or almost the same defensive REPUTATION, but with very ordinary or even below-average defensive statistics. It's a very different problem."
I’m not saying that was an inaccurate answer; to the best of my knowledge it is an accurate answer. It is, however, the kind of answer that raises more questions than it settles. Any of us can watch Omar at shortstop and think that he looks extraordinary; even when he was 37, 38, he still looked extraordinary. One can’t set that aside without a real understanding of why he doesn’t rate better.
My answer wasn’t wrong, I don’t think, but it also didn’t do much to build an understanding of the issue. The purpose of this article is to try to develop a little better understanding of the general issue.
OK, I started by identifying:
- All players in baseball history,
- Who were primarily shortstops,
- Who played at least 1700 games,
- Who hit less than 100 career homers,
- Who hit less than .285,
- And who were no more than 100 runs created better than a league-average hitter.
There were 29 such players in baseball history. By definition, these players almost have to be outstanding defensive shortstops. Even the worst of them, defensively, won Gold Gloves or would have won Gold Gloves if such an award had existed. It is all but impossible to play 1700 games in the major leagues, primarily as a shortstop, with average or less-than-average hitting skill, unless one is an outstanding defensive player. I added a 30th player to the group, for reasons I will explain later, bringing us to 30 players in the Omar Smith/Ozzie Vizquel group (two less than Joe would have.) This series of articles is an analysis of those 30 players, in chronological order.
Monte Ward
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1878
|
Providence
|
NL
|
18
|
37
|
138
|
14
|
27
|
5
|
4
|
1
|
15
|
2
|
0
|
.196
|
.312
|
.207
|
.519
|
1879
|
Providence
|
NL
|
19
|
83
|
364
|
71
|
104
|
9
|
4
|
2
|
41
|
7
|
0
|
.286
|
.349
|
.299
|
.648
|
1880
|
Providence
|
NL
|
20
|
86
|
356
|
53
|
81
|
12
|
2
|
0
|
27
|
6
|
0
|
.228
|
.272
|
.240
|
.513
|
1881
|
Providence
|
NL
|
21
|
85
|
357
|
56
|
87
|
18
|
6
|
0
|
53
|
5
|
0
|
.244
|
.328
|
.254
|
.582
|
1882
|
Providence
|
NL
|
22
|
83
|
355
|
58
|
87
|
10
|
3
|
1
|
39
|
13
|
0
|
.245
|
.299
|
.272
|
.570
|
1883
|
New York
|
NL
|
23
|
88
|
380
|
76
|
97
|
18
|
7
|
7
|
54
|
8
|
0
|
.255
|
.395
|
.271
|
.665
|
1884
|
New York
|
NL
|
24
|
113
|
482
|
98
|
122
|
11
|
8
|
2
|
51
|
28
|
0
|
.253
|
.322
|
.294
|
.616
|
1885
|
New York
|
NL
|
25
|
111
|
446
|
72
|
101
|
8
|
9
|
0
|
37
|
17
|
0
|
.226
|
.285
|
.255
|
.540
|
1886
|
New York
|
NL
|
26
|
122
|
491
|
82
|
134
|
17
|
5
|
2
|
81
|
19
|
36
|
.273
|
.340
|
.300
|
.640
|
1887
|
New York
|
NL
|
27
|
129
|
545
|
114
|
184
|
16
|
5
|
1
|
53
|
29
|
111
|
.338
|
.391
|
.375
|
.766
|
1888
|
New York
|
NL
|
28
|
122
|
510
|
70
|
128
|
14
|
5
|
2
|
49
|
9
|
38
|
.251
|
.310
|
.265
|
.575
|
1889
|
New York
|
NL
|
29
|
114
|
479
|
87
|
143
|
13
|
4
|
1
|
67
|
27
|
62
|
.299
|
.349
|
.339
|
.687
|
1890
|
Brooklyn
|
PL
|
30
|
128
|
561
|
134
|
189
|
15
|
12
|
4
|
60
|
51
|
63
|
.337
|
.428
|
.394
|
.822
|
1891
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
31
|
105
|
441
|
85
|
122
|
13
|
5
|
0
|
39
|
36
|
57
|
.277
|
.329
|
.335
|
.664
|
1892
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
32
|
148
|
614
|
109
|
163
|
13
|
3
|
1
|
47
|
82
|
88
|
.265
|
.301
|
.355
|
.656
|
1893
|
New York
|
NL
|
33
|
135
|
588
|
129
|
193
|
27
|
9
|
2
|
77
|
47
|
46
|
.328
|
.415
|
.379
|
.794
|
1894
|
New York
|
NL
|
34
|
136
|
540
|
100
|
143
|
12
|
5
|
0
|
77
|
34
|
39
|
.265
|
.306
|
.310
|
.615
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
1825
|
7647
|
1408
|
2105
|
231
|
96
|
26
|
867
|
420
|
540
|
.275
|
.341
|
.314
|
.654
|
Monte Ward As a Pitcher
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
W
|
L
|
PCT
|
G
|
CG
|
SV
|
IP
|
H
|
R
|
ER
|
SO
|
BB
|
ERA
|
1878
|
Providence
|
NL
|
22
|
13
|
.629
|
37
|
37
|
0
|
334
|
308
|
151
|
56
|
116
|
34
|
1.51
|
1879
|
Providence
|
NL
|
47
|
19
|
.712
|
70
|
58
|
1
|
587
|
571
|
270
|
140
|
239
|
36
|
2.15
|
1880
|
Providence
|
NL
|
39
|
24
|
.619
|
70
|
59
|
1
|
595
|
501
|
230
|
115
|
230
|
45
|
1.74
|
1881
|
Providence
|
NL
|
18
|
18
|
.500
|
39
|
32
|
0
|
330
|
326
|
183
|
78
|
119
|
53
|
2.13
|
1882
|
Providence
|
NL
|
19
|
12
|
.613
|
33
|
29
|
1
|
278
|
261
|
141
|
80
|
72
|
36
|
2.59
|
1883
|
New York
|
NL
|
16
|
13
|
.552
|
34
|
24
|
0
|
277
|
278
|
165
|
83
|
121
|
31
|
2.70
|
1884
|
New York
|
NL
|
3
|
3
|
.500
|
9
|
5
|
0
|
60.2
|
72
|
43
|
23
|
23
|
18
|
3.41
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
164
|
102
|
.617
|
292
|
244
|
3
|
2461
|
2317
|
1183
|
575
|
920
|
253
|
2.10
|
MONTE WARD
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
370-249
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.522
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
162-148
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
.746
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
91-31
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
.835
|
Pitching W-L Contribution:
|
117-70
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.565
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.726
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1879
|
|
|
|
|
|
40-20
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
7268
|
|
|
Best Season/Not Pitching:
|
1887
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
1522
|
|
|
|
25-6
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
1314
|
+208
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
9
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
2641
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
1
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
2605
|
+36
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
2
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
294
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
9
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
288
|
+6
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
16
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
530
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
1
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
571
|
+41
|
|
Career Value:
|
430
|
Monte Ward won 47 games, as a pitcher, for the Providence Grays in 1879, when he was 19 years old. He also won 39 games the next year, but after a five- to seven-year career as a pitcher he had arm trouble, and had to leave the mound. The Providence team went out of business; Ward played some outfield, eventually settled in as the shortstop for the original New York Giants—the team that got the nickname "Giants" because they had some big dudes on the team. In 1887, his best year as a position player, he hit .338 and stole 111 bases.
Ward was a leader, an orator, a strategist, and a lawyer. In the late 1880s, due to serious disagreements between the league’s owners and players, Ward organized a "Brotherhood"—a Union—and attempted to start a new league. This was called the Player’s League, and is often referred to as Monte Ward’s Player’s League.
The Player’s League attracted most of the best players in baseball, but was a financial disaster, and folded after one season (1890). Ward returned to the National League as the Player/Manager of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Ward was a highly successful player/manager, and was sold back to the Giants, where he was the player/manager in 1893 and 1894, playing second base. He was still a fine player in 1893, but the calendar caught up with him in 1894. In the winter of 1894-1895 the Giants were sold to a half-lunatic gangster named Andrew Freedman, and Ward retired and resigned as manager, rather than attempting to work for Freedman.
He retired as a player, but he acted on occasion as an attorney for one person or another involved in some baseball dispute. I believe, although I don’t know this for sure, that he was a part of the John T. Brush syndicate that eventually purchased the Giants from Freedman; in any case he was certainly the attorney and spokesman for that group. And. . .here’s something many of you probably don’t know. . .when Monte Ward died in 1925, the newspapers reported on his death as a man who was famous for what he had done in the world of Bowling. Ward was a very good bowler, and I think he owned some bowling alleys and was a promoter of bowling competitions.
Leaving the bowling out of it, Ward had a very diverse and successful career as a pitcher, shortstop, second baseman, lawyer, union leader and executive, and is an obvious Hall of Famer. He is one of 8 players among these 30 who is in the Hall. He is, however, not an obvious or typical member of the Omar Vizquel/Ozzie Smith group. His numbers put him in this group but, because of the diversity of his career, he doesn’t really fit. He played only (an estimated) 7,268 innings at shortstop, which is the fewest of any player in this group, and is less than one-half the norm for the group. His career Win Share Value, 430, is the highest among these 30 players.
Germany Smith
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1884
|
Altoona
|
UA
|
21
|
25
|
108
|
9
|
34
|
8
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
.315
|
.407
|
.321
|
.729
|
1884
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
21
|
72
|
291
|
31
|
74
|
14
|
4
|
4
|
26
|
2
|
0
|
.254
|
.371
|
.259
|
.631
|
1885
|
Brooklyn
|
AA
|
22
|
108
|
419
|
63
|
108
|
17
|
11
|
4
|
0
|
10
|
0
|
.258
|
.379
|
.275
|
.655
|
1886
|
Brooklyn
|
AA
|
23
|
105
|
426
|
66
|
105
|
17
|
6
|
2
|
0
|
19
|
22
|
.246
|
.329
|
.279
|
.607
|
1887
|
Brooklyn
|
AA
|
24
|
103
|
435
|
79
|
128
|
19
|
16
|
4
|
0
|
13
|
26
|
.294
|
.439
|
.316
|
.755
|
1888
|
Brooklyn
|
AA
|
25
|
103
|
402
|
47
|
86
|
10
|
7
|
3
|
61
|
22
|
27
|
.214
|
.296
|
.255
|
.551
|
1889
|
Brooklyn
|
AA
|
26
|
121
|
446
|
89
|
103
|
22
|
3
|
3
|
53
|
40
|
35
|
.231
|
.314
|
.296
|
.610
|
1890
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
27
|
129
|
481
|
76
|
92
|
6
|
5
|
1
|
47
|
42
|
24
|
.191
|
.231
|
.260
|
.491
|
1891
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
28
|
138
|
512
|
50
|
103
|
11
|
5
|
3
|
53
|
38
|
16
|
.201
|
.260
|
.258
|
.517
|
1892
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
29
|
139
|
506
|
58
|
121
|
13
|
6
|
8
|
63
|
42
|
19
|
.239
|
.336
|
.297
|
.633
|
1893
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
30
|
130
|
500
|
63
|
118
|
18
|
6
|
4
|
56
|
38
|
14
|
.236
|
.320
|
.293
|
.613
|
1894
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
31
|
127
|
482
|
73
|
127
|
33
|
5
|
3
|
76
|
41
|
15
|
.263
|
.371
|
.324
|
.695
|
1895
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
32
|
127
|
503
|
75
|
151
|
23
|
6
|
4
|
74
|
34
|
13
|
.300
|
.394
|
.345
|
.738
|
1896
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
33
|
120
|
456
|
65
|
131
|
22
|
9
|
2
|
71
|
28
|
22
|
.287
|
.388
|
.330
|
.718
|
1897
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
34
|
112
|
428
|
47
|
86
|
17
|
3
|
0
|
29
|
14
|
1
|
.201
|
.255
|
.233
|
.488
|
1898
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
35
|
51
|
157
|
16
|
25
|
2
|
1
|
1
|
9
|
24
|
1
|
.159
|
.204
|
.275
|
.479
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
1710
|
6552
|
907
|
1592
|
252
|
94
|
46
|
618
|
408
|
235
|
.243
|
.331
|
.289
|
.619
|
GERMANY SMITH
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
209-209
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.328
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
93-190
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
.860
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
116-19
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
.895
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.615
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.780
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
14625
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1892
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
2900
|
|
|
|
21-11
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
3243
|
-343
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
1
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
6361
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
5909
|
+452
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
592
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
3
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
565
|
+27
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
10
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
1008
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
4
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
1161
|
+153
|
|
Career Value:
|
209
|
In 1884 there was also an attempt to start a third major league, the Union Association. The Union Association failed after one year, and it really is bizarre to refer to it as a major league, since it has no characteristics of a major league, and attracted almost no major league players, even for one year. It did, however, launch the careers of a fair number of major league players, although not as many as the International League or the American Association would launch in a typical year. Nonetheless, through the improbable vagaries of baseball research, the Union Association has been classified as a major league, and the records of that league are counted as major league records.
After the UA failed, Smith wound up as the shortstop of the Brooklyn Dodgers. The Dodgers were a good team, having highly successful seasons in 1886, 1888, 1889 and 1890. Smith was, in a sense, the exact opposite of Monte Ward: he really didn’t do anything well except play shortstop. In this way he is more typical of this group of players than is Ward. He was, however, a really good shortstop, as is witnessed in the fact that, of the 1,710 games that he played in the major leagues, 1,665 were as a shortstop. This is extremely unusual for 19th century baseball. In 19th century players—including superstars—normally played all over the field. Only a very few players in 19th century ball played such a high percentage of their games at one position.
Smith’s defensive excellence is clear from two facts, one of which I just gave you. The other is that he was able to stay in the major leagues for 15 years with no power and a .289 on base percentage. From 1888 to 1891 he hit .214, .231, .191 and .201, with no more than 3 homers in a season, yet he remained a regular through that period and for years after that. Smith’s defense was so outstanding that it offset his inability to hit, and he had ten seasons as a regular and a .500+ player. He played generally for pretty good teams, with a Team Success Percentage of .615.
If a shortstop plays shallow, that increases his assists total, but decreases his putouts, since it gives him less time to react to a ball hit in the air. If the shortstop plays deeper and if he cheats toward second, that increases his putouts, but decreases his assists, since he may get to balls too late to make the throw to first.
Germany Smith had 452 more assists than expected in his career, which is the biggest number of any player in this survey. However, Smith was -343 in putouts, strongly suggesting that Smith played a shallower shortstop, probably, than any other shortstop of his era. The +452 assists is an impressive number, but it is more impressive when a shortstop can be +200 or +300 in assists without giving away putouts. There are many shortstops in this group, like Bobby Wallace, Mickey Doolan, Joe Tinker and Ozzie Smith, who are +150 or more in putouts and in assists.
Herman Long
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1889
|
Kansas City
|
AA
|
23
|
136
|
574
|
137
|
158
|
32
|
6
|
3
|
60
|
64
|
89
|
.275
|
.368
|
.358
|
.726
|
1890
|
Boston
|
NL
|
24
|
101
|
431
|
95
|
108
|
15
|
3
|
8
|
52
|
40
|
49
|
.251
|
.355
|
.320
|
.675
|
1891
|
Boston
|
NL
|
25
|
139
|
577
|
129
|
163
|
21
|
12
|
9
|
75
|
80
|
60
|
.282
|
.407
|
.377
|
.785
|
1892
|
Boston
|
NL
|
26
|
151
|
646
|
115
|
181
|
33
|
6
|
6
|
78
|
44
|
57
|
.280
|
.378
|
.334
|
.712
|
1893
|
Boston
|
NL
|
27
|
128
|
552
|
149
|
159
|
22
|
6
|
6
|
58
|
73
|
38
|
.288
|
.382
|
.376
|
.758
|
1894
|
Boston
|
NL
|
28
|
104
|
475
|
136
|
154
|
28
|
11
|
12
|
79
|
35
|
24
|
.324
|
.505
|
.375
|
.881
|
1895
|
Boston
|
NL
|
29
|
124
|
535
|
109
|
169
|
23
|
10
|
9
|
75
|
31
|
35
|
.316
|
.447
|
.357
|
.803
|
1896
|
Boston
|
NL
|
30
|
120
|
501
|
105
|
172
|
26
|
8
|
6
|
100
|
26
|
36
|
.343
|
.463
|
.382
|
.845
|
1897
|
Boston
|
NL
|
31
|
107
|
450
|
89
|
145
|
32
|
7
|
3
|
69
|
23
|
22
|
.322
|
.444
|
.358
|
.802
|
1898
|
Boston
|
NL
|
32
|
144
|
589
|
99
|
156
|
21
|
10
|
6
|
99
|
39
|
20
|
.265
|
.365
|
.311
|
.676
|
1899
|
Boston
|
NL
|
33
|
145
|
578
|
91
|
153
|
30
|
8
|
6
|
100
|
45
|
20
|
.265
|
.375
|
.321
|
.697
|
1900
|
Boston
|
NL
|
34
|
125
|
486
|
80
|
127
|
19
|
4
|
12
|
66
|
44
|
26
|
.261
|
.391
|
.325
|
.716
|
1901
|
Boston
|
NL
|
35
|
138
|
518
|
54
|
112
|
14
|
6
|
3
|
68
|
25
|
20
|
.216
|
.284
|
.254
|
.537
|
1902
|
Boston
|
NL
|
36
|
120
|
437
|
40
|
101
|
11
|
0
|
2
|
44
|
31
|
24
|
.231
|
.270
|
.282
|
.552
|
1903
|
Detroit
|
AL
|
37
|
69
|
239
|
21
|
53
|
12
|
0
|
0
|
23
|
10
|
11
|
.222
|
.272
|
.256
|
.528
|
1903
|
New York
|
AL
|
37
|
22
|
80
|
6
|
15
|
3
|
0
|
0
|
8
|
2
|
3
|
.188
|
.225
|
.207
|
.432
|
1904
|
Philadelphia
|
NL
|
38
|
1
|
4
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
.250
|
.250
|
.250
|
.500
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
1874
|
7672
|
1455
|
2127
|
342
|
97
|
91
|
1054
|
612
|
534
|
.277
|
.383
|
.335
|
.718
|
HERMAN LONG
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
267-201
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.443
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
144-181
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
.860
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
123-20
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
.869
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.651
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.849
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
15890
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1891
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
4371
|
|
|
|
26-7
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
4091
|
+280
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
5
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
6304
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
6205
|
+99
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
2
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
783
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
5
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
702
|
+81
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
13
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
1111
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
1
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
1147
|
+36
|
|
Career Value:
|
300
|
Like George J. Smith, Herman Long was often called "Germany". He was also referred to, by me in one of the Historical Abstracts, as Herman (Why-on-earth-aren’t-you-in-the-Hall-of-Fame) Long.
I have a fondness for Herman Long for two reasons. First, Long surfaced as a major league player—as did Sliding Billy Hamilton—with the short-lived Kansas City Cowboys of 1888-1889. As a Kansas City loyalist I feel a certain pull for the members of that team, even though they played 60 years before I was born. Second, Long played his best years with the Boston Braves of the 1890s, a team that I feel has been somewhat mistreated by history.
It is hard to overstate the effect that John McGraw had on the mythic history of the game. A charismatic story-teller as well as a genuinely great manager, McGraw was the dominant figure in New York City baseball at the time that press coverage of major league baseball exploded, beginning about 1905. McGraw told and re-told anecdotes about the teams that he had played for, the Old Orioles, establishing the Orioles in the minds of writers and in the mythology of the game as the greatest team of 19th century baseball. But the Orioles were not, in fact, the greatest team of the 1890s; the Boston Braves were. The Braves had a winning percentage of .625 or better in 1891, 1892, 1893, 1894, 1897, 1898 and 1899, seven times in ten years, had the best record in the NL five times, and had a won-lost record for the decade of 869-508, a .631 percentage. The Orioles—also a great team—had the best record in the league three times, and a won-lost record for the decade of 728-527, a .580 percentage.
Long was the shortstop on the greatest team of 19th century baseball. We credit him with a defensive winning percentage of .860—the same as Germany Smith--and he has some standout offensive numbers as well. scoring 137 runs in 1889, 95 runs in 101 games in 1890, and then, beginning in 1891, 129, 115, 149, 136, 109 and 105 runs.
But, in truth, these numbers were not as impressive in context as they might seem now. Far more runs per game were scored in the 1893-1895 era than even during the heart of the steroid era. Long—while he was a very, very good player—was a below-average hitter in his era, and in truth (while there are many Hall of Famers who were less qualified than he would be) he does fall short of the best standards of a Hall of Fame player.
Tommy Corcoran
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1890
|
Pittsburgh
|
PL
|
21
|
123
|
503
|
80
|
117
|
14
|
13
|
1
|
61
|
38
|
43
|
.233
|
.318
|
.289
|
.607
|
1891
|
Philadelphia
|
AA
|
22
|
133
|
511
|
84
|
130
|
11
|
15
|
7
|
71
|
29
|
30
|
.254
|
.376
|
.307
|
.683
|
1892
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
23
|
151
|
613
|
77
|
145
|
11
|
6
|
1
|
74
|
34
|
39
|
.237
|
.279
|
.281
|
.560
|
1893
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
24
|
115
|
459
|
61
|
126
|
11
|
10
|
2
|
58
|
27
|
14
|
.275
|
.355
|
.318
|
.673
|
1894
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
25
|
129
|
576
|
123
|
173
|
21
|
20
|
5
|
92
|
25
|
33
|
.300
|
.432
|
.329
|
.762
|
1895
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
26
|
127
|
535
|
81
|
142
|
17
|
10
|
2
|
69
|
23
|
17
|
.265
|
.346
|
.299
|
.645
|
1896
|
Brooklyn
|
NL
|
27
|
132
|
532
|
63
|
154
|
15
|
7
|
3
|
73
|
15
|
16
|
.289
|
.361
|
.310
|
.671
|
1897
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
28
|
109
|
445
|
76
|
128
|
30
|
5
|
3
|
57
|
13
|
15
|
.288
|
.398
|
.311
|
.709
|
1898
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
29
|
153
|
619
|
80
|
155
|
28
|
15
|
2
|
87
|
26
|
19
|
.250
|
.354
|
.283
|
.637
|
1899
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
30
|
137
|
537
|
91
|
149
|
11
|
8
|
0
|
81
|
28
|
32
|
.277
|
.328
|
.316
|
.643
|
1900
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
31
|
127
|
523
|
64
|
128
|
21
|
9
|
1
|
54
|
22
|
27
|
.245
|
.325
|
.278
|
.603
|
1901
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
32
|
31
|
115
|
14
|
24
|
3
|
3
|
0
|
15
|
11
|
6
|
.209
|
.287
|
.278
|
.565
|
1902
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
33
|
138
|
538
|
54
|
136
|
18
|
4
|
0
|
54
|
11
|
20
|
.253
|
.301
|
.268
|
.569
|
1903
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
34
|
115
|
459
|
61
|
113
|
18
|
7
|
2
|
73
|
12
|
12
|
.246
|
.329
|
.267
|
.596
|
1904
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
35
|
150
|
578
|
55
|
133
|
17
|
9
|
2
|
74
|
19
|
19
|
.230
|
.301
|
.257
|
.558
|
1905
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
36
|
151
|
605
|
70
|
150
|
21
|
11
|
2
|
85
|
23
|
28
|
.248
|
.329
|
.277
|
.606
|
1906
|
Cincinnati
|
NL
|
37
|
117
|
430
|
29
|
89
|
13
|
1
|
1
|
33
|
19
|
8
|
.207
|
.249
|
.242
|
.491
|
1907
|
New York
|
NL
|
38
|
62
|
226
|
21
|
60
|
9
|
2
|
0
|
24
|
7
|
9
|
.265
|
.323
|
.288
|
.611
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
2200
|
8804
|
1184
|
2252
|
289
|
155
|
34
|
1135
|
382
|
387
|
.256
|
.335
|
.289
|
.625
|
TOMMY CORCORAN
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
261-296
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.326
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
125-259
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
.784
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
136-37
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
.848
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.512
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.689
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
18260
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1891
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
4553
|
|
|
|
20-11
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
4644
|
-91
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
2
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
7110
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
6885
|
+225
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
851
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
1
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
873
|
-22
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
6
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
957
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
10
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
1176
|
+219
|
|
Career Value:
|
244
|
Let’s start the process of unpacking these numbers a little bit. . .this will take some time, but I’ll just do a little bit now and a little bit later. What does it mean to say that Tommy Corcoran was 219 Errors better than expected at shortstop?
It’s fairly simple, actually. In 1892 the National League fielding percentage for shortstops was .897; actually, .896 573 604 061, but who’s counting? Tommy Corcoran handled 850 chances. Had he fielded .897, then, he would have committed 88 errors; actually 87.912, BWC? He actually committed only 64 errors, leading the National League in fielding percentage at .925. Corcoran, then, was 24 errors better than an average National League shortstop in that season. He was 219 errors better than an average National League shortstop over the course of his career (88 minus 64). That’s what that "+219" in the chart above means.
Don’t rush from that to an explanation of the other plus and minus numbers; the process of deriving those numbers is much more complicated. We’ll deal with those later.
Until the last ten years, the evaluation of fielding ability by fielding statistics was light years behind the evaluation of hitting or pitching by statistics. In 1910, 1920, 1930, the average fan could look at the statistics of a group of hitters or a group of pitchers, and rank them with a fair degree of accuracy. In fielding, the average fan could look at the statistics and see little or nothing. Now we’re better, but even now, many fans have limited understanding of defensive statistics, and those of us who study them intently still have a lot of gaps in our understanding.
That problem came about due to an ultimately ill-fated effort to evaluate fielders—as we evaluate hitters—by the concept of percentage success. A fielder has this many trials; he succeeds this many times, what is his success percentage? That’s how baseball’s first statisticians tried to evaluate fielding: Figure the success percentage.
What you have to understand is that, to those men—in 1870, or a little before 1870—looking at the game that they saw, that was an entirely reasonable way to approach the problem. Fielders mishandled as many as 20% or 25% of the chances that came their way. It was entirely reasonable to focus on that. In the 19th century it was not uncommon for fielders to make 100 errors a year. Herman Long as a rookie in 1889 made 117 errors, which is not the record. In counting the errors, the early statisticians were measuring something large, something central to the performance of the fielder’s duty.
What they did not anticipate was that, over time, errors would become dramatically less frequent. We have these players in chronological order. Monte Ward’s career fielding percentage at shortstop was .887, Germany Smith’s was .902, Herman Long’s was .906, Tommy Corcoran’s was .924, Bobby Wallace’s was .938, and Joe Tinker’s was .938. Within a generation, fielding percentages at shortstop would go up 50 points, and they would continue to ascend. Fielding percentages improved because of the development of fielding gloves, because of immense improvements in field conditions, and because of improvements in playing skill.
As fielding percentages improved, what was being measured by fielding percentage became less important. In the Player’s League in 1890 the overall fielding percentage of shortstops was .868. In 1950 the fielding percentage of shortstops was .961 in the American League, .963 in the National League. More than two-thirds of the errors had disappeared. Fielding numbers, however, did not evolve. They didn’t evolve because they didn’t make sense to people. Batting statistics added to the record categories like walks, strikeouts, caught stealing, RBI, and grounded into double play, and these things were added because people wondered "How often does that batter do that?" Pitching stats added things like Saves, Intentional Walks and Hit Batsmen. Fielding stats added nothing. The official fielding stats of 1990 were exactly the same as they had been in 1900, and this was true because fielding statistics didn’t mean anything to most people, and therefore didn’t cause people to ask any specific questions that could be addressed by simply counting things.
Let me point out, for example, that statisticians easily enough could have counted how often each fielder started a double play, how often he was the pivot man, and how often he completed the double play. This would have been extremely useful, for example, in comparing first basemen. Probably some first basemen started 20 double plays a year (3-6-1 or 3-6-3), while others probably started none. But we don’t know; there are, to this day, no such counts; first basemen receive the same data entry for completing a 6-4-3 DP as they do for the much more difficult—and much more rare—feat of initiating the play.
Errors could have been sorted into those which lost an out and put a runner on base, and those which "merely" allowed a runner to advance; it was never done. Putouts could have been divided into balls caught in the air, forceouts, and tag plays. It was never done. We could have—and should have—differentiated between fielding plays initiated by the fielder and those to which he was a secondary contributor. It was never done. For a hundred years, fielding statistics simply failed to evolve. Things that were essentially different continued to be counted as if they were essentially the same.
There is a second reason that fielding statistics don’t make intuitive sense, which is that the fielding statistics of different positions are so dramatically different that there is no common standard by which to make sense of them. Of course, the batting statistics of shortstops and the batting statistics of first basemen are somewhat different, but they are settled along a common scale. There are—and have always been—some shortstops whose batting stats look like those of a first baseman. Not so in fielding; the fielding stats of a first baseman are just totally and absolutely different than those of a shortstop. A first baseman has ten times as many putouts as assists; a shortstop has more assists than putouts. Everything in their fielding records is different. It was much more difficult for people to process the data, because of the lack of universal standards.
The result was that fielding statistics were essentially meaningless to most fans, not simply because they were badly designed, but also because the game had changed in such a manner as to make them obsolete, and there had been a complete and total failure to update them over the years so as to keep them relevant. That’s where we were ten, fifteen years ago.
Tommy Corcoran was regarded as a superb fielder in part because he was 200 errors better than an average shortstop. 200 is a big number. Joe DiMaggio hit .325 in his career; if he had had 200 fewer hits he wouldn’t have been a .300 hitter. But over the years, these differences became smaller and less relevant.
The differences did not atrophy at the same rate as errors themselves disappeared. Omar Vizquel is still 143 errors better than an average shortstop, Ozzie Smith was 164 errors better, and Larry Bowa was 155 errors better, although these men had longer careers even than Corcoran. But at other positions (other than shortstop), fielding percentages moved over .980, even over .990, and fielding errors all but disappeared.
Bobby Wallace
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1894
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
20
|
4
|
13
|
0
|
2
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
.154
|
.231
|
.154
|
.385
|
1895
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
21
|
30
|
98
|
16
|
21
|
2
|
3
|
0
|
10
|
6
|
0
|
.214
|
.296
|
.274
|
.570
|
1896
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
22
|
45
|
149
|
19
|
35
|
6
|
3
|
1
|
17
|
11
|
2
|
.235
|
.336
|
.288
|
.623
|
1897
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
23
|
130
|
516
|
99
|
173
|
33
|
21
|
4
|
112
|
48
|
14
|
.335
|
.504
|
.394
|
.898
|
1898
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
24
|
154
|
593
|
81
|
160
|
25
|
13
|
3
|
99
|
63
|
7
|
.270
|
.371
|
.344
|
.715
|
1899
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
25
|
151
|
577
|
91
|
170
|
28
|
14
|
12
|
108
|
54
|
17
|
.295
|
.454
|
.357
|
.811
|
1900
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
26
|
126
|
485
|
70
|
130
|
25
|
9
|
4
|
70
|
40
|
7
|
.268
|
.381
|
.328
|
.709
|
1901
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
27
|
134
|
550
|
69
|
178
|
34
|
15
|
2
|
91
|
20
|
15
|
.324
|
.451
|
.351
|
.802
|
1902
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
28
|
133
|
494
|
71
|
141
|
32
|
9
|
1
|
63
|
45
|
18
|
.285
|
.393
|
.350
|
.743
|
1903
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
29
|
135
|
511
|
63
|
136
|
21
|
7
|
1
|
54
|
28
|
10
|
.266
|
.341
|
.309
|
.650
|
1904
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
30
|
139
|
541
|
57
|
149
|
29
|
4
|
2
|
69
|
42
|
20
|
.275
|
.355
|
.330
|
.685
|
1905
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
31
|
156
|
587
|
67
|
159
|
25
|
9
|
1
|
59
|
45
|
13
|
.271
|
.349
|
.324
|
.673
|
1906
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
32
|
139
|
476
|
64
|
123
|
21
|
7
|
2
|
67
|
58
|
24
|
.258
|
.345
|
.344
|
.688
|
1907
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
33
|
147
|
538
|
56
|
138
|
20
|
7
|
0
|
70
|
54
|
16
|
.257
|
.320
|
.328
|
.647
|
1908
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
34
|
137
|
487
|
59
|
123
|
24
|
4
|
1
|
60
|
52
|
5
|
.253
|
.324
|
.327
|
.652
|
1909
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
35
|
116
|
403
|
36
|
96
|
12
|
2
|
0
|
35
|
38
|
7
|
.238
|
.278
|
.310
|
.588
|
1910
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
36
|
138
|
508
|
47
|
131
|
19
|
7
|
0
|
37
|
49
|
12
|
.258
|
.323
|
.324
|
.647
|
1911
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
37
|
125
|
410
|
35
|
95
|
12
|
2
|
0
|
31
|
46
|
8
|
.232
|
.271
|
.312
|
.583
|
1912
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
38
|
100
|
323
|
39
|
78
|
14
|
5
|
0
|
31
|
43
|
3
|
.241
|
.316
|
.332
|
.648
|
1913
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
39
|
55
|
147
|
11
|
31
|
5
|
0
|
0
|
21
|
14
|
1
|
.211
|
.245
|
.293
|
.538
|
1914
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
40
|
26
|
73
|
3
|
16
|
2
|
1
|
0
|
5
|
5
|
1
|
.219
|
.274
|
.269
|
.543
|
1915
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
41
|
9
|
13
|
1
|
3
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
4
|
5
|
0
|
.231
|
.385
|
.444
|
.829
|
1916
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
42
|
14
|
18
|
0
|
5
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
2
|
0
|
.278
|
.278
|
.350
|
.628
|
1917
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
43
|
8
|
10
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
0
|
0
|
.100
|
.100
|
.100
|
.200
|
1918
|
St. Louis
|
NL
|
44
|
32
|
98
|
3
|
15
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
4
|
6
|
1
|
.153
|
.163
|
.202
|
.365
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
2383
|
8618
|
1057
|
2309
|
391
|
143
|
34
|
1121
|
774
|
201
|
.268
|
.358
|
.332
|
.690
|
Bobby Wallace As a Pitcher
|
YEAR
|
City
|
Lg
|
W
|
L
|
PCT
|
G
|
CG
|
SV
|
IP
|
H
|
R
|
ER
|
SO
|
BB
|
ERA
|
1894
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
2
|
1
|
.667
|
4
|
2
|
0
|
26
|
28
|
25
|
15
|
10
|
20
|
5.19
|
1895
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
12
|
14
|
.462
|
30
|
22
|
1
|
228
|
271
|
166
|
104
|
63
|
87
|
4.09
|
1896
|
Cleveland
|
NL
|
10
|
7
|
.588
|
22
|
13
|
0
|
145
|
167
|
75
|
54
|
46
|
49
|
3.34
|
1902
|
St. Louis
|
AL
|
0
|
0
|
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
2
|
3
|
2
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0.00
|
Totals
|
24
|
22
|
.522
|
56
|
37
|
1
|
399
|
466
|
266
|
173
|
119
|
156
|
3.87
|
BOBBY WALLACE
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
354-222
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.326
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
204-164
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
.784
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
136-37
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
.848
|
Pitching W-L Contribution:
|
22-16
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.689
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.471
|
|
|
Pitching Winning Percentage:
|
.588
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
16050
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1906
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
4142
|
|
|
|
24-7
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
3987
|
+155
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
11
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
6303
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
0
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
6127
|
+176
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
5
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
642
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
12
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
596
|
+47
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
17
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
685
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
1
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
816
|
+121
|
|
Career Value:
|
420
|
Like Monte Ward, Rhody Wallace started his career as a pitcher, and finished it in the Hall of Fame.
I actually don’t know very much about Bobby Wallace; I suspect that I know as little about him as I do about any Hall of Famer. Ira Smith didn’t get to the shortstops in his wonderful series of player portraits, and even the people who edited his Wikipedia entry don’t really seem to know very much about him. I’ll add "getting to know Bobby Wallace" to my list of projects.
Based on his numbers and my present ability to interpret these as wins and losses, it is my opinion that Wallace’s Hall of Fame selection was richly deserved, and that he was a very well-qualified Hall of Famer, perhaps comparable in stature to Brooks Robinson or Wade Boggs.
I mentioned a minute ago that a huge number of runs were scored in the 1890s. After the turn of the century baseball entered the Dead Ball era, and the number of runs per game plummeted. This uneven terrain makes Wallace’s hitting numbers difficult to evaluate intuitively. Wallace hit .335 with 112 RBI in 1897; in 1906 he hit .258 with 2 homers, 67 RBI. However, since there were 9,520 runs scored in the National League in 1897, and Wallace was playing in an extremely good hitter’s park, whereas there were only 4,484 runs scored in the American League in 1906, when Wallace was playing in a pitcher’s park, Wallace’s season in 1906 was actually substantially better than his performance in 1897, relative to the run context.
Wallace was not better in the field than Corcoran or Long or Smith, but he was still a very good fielder, and he was, in context, a much more productive hitter than any of them. He has many "good" numbers, very few poor ones. He had 17 seasons as a "winning" player, a .500+ player. He had eleven seasons in which he was, in effect, a 20-game winner—more than Corcoran, Long and Smith combined. He had only one season as a regular but a sub-.500 player (1911), whereas those other three guys had a total of fifteen. His walk rates were good. All of his defensive numbers—putouts, assists, errors, double plays; they’re all good. As a pitcher, he was an above-average pitcher. He played 426 games at third base in his career; as a third baseman he was +57 in assists and +51 in errors (meaning 51 fewer errors than expected.) The one blemish on his resume is that he did generally play for poor teams. Taking all phases of his game, he rates as one of the very best players in this field of 30, which includes eight Hall of Famers and numerous other Hall of Fame candidates.
In fact, one of the surprises in doing this study is that the Hall of Fame does not seem to have made any serious mistakes in choosing from among these players. While there might be some moderate discrepancies between how I would evaluate these players and how Cooperstown has evaluated them, it is not genuinely clear that any player in this group chosen for the Hall of Fame should not have been, or that any player was not chosen who should have been.
JOE TINKER
|
YEAR
|
Team
|
Lg
|
Age
|
G
|
AB
|
R
|
H
|
2B
|
3B
|
HR
|
RBI
|
BB
|
SB
|
AVG
|
SLG
|
OBA
|
OPS
|
1902
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
21
|
131
|
494
|
55
|
129
|
19
|
5
|
2
|
54
|
26
|
27
|
.261
|
.332
|
.298
|
.630
|
1903
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
22
|
124
|
460
|
67
|
134
|
21
|
7
|
2
|
70
|
37
|
27
|
.291
|
.380
|
.345
|
.726
|
1904
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
23
|
141
|
488
|
55
|
108
|
12
|
13
|
3
|
41
|
29
|
41
|
.221
|
.318
|
.268
|
.585
|
1905
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
24
|
149
|
547
|
70
|
135
|
18
|
8
|
2
|
66
|
34
|
31
|
.247
|
.320
|
.292
|
.612
|
1906
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
25
|
148
|
523
|
75
|
122
|
18
|
4
|
1
|
64
|
43
|
30
|
.233
|
.289
|
.293
|
.581
|
1907
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
26
|
117
|
402
|
36
|
89
|
11
|
3
|
1
|
36
|
25
|
20
|
.221
|
.271
|
.269
|
.540
|
1908
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
27
|
157
|
548
|
67
|
146
|
23
|
14
|
6
|
68
|
32
|
30
|
.266
|
.392
|
.307
|
.699
|
1909
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
28
|
143
|
516
|
56
|
132
|
26
|
11
|
4
|
57
|
17
|
23
|
.256
|
.372
|
.280
|
.652
|
1910
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
29
|
133
|
473
|
48
|
136
|
25
|
9
|
3
|
69
|
24
|
20
|
.288
|
.397
|
.322
|
.719
|
1911
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
30
|
144
|
536
|
61
|
149
|
24
|
12
|
4
|
69
|
39
|
30
|
.278
|
.390
|
.327
|
.717
|
1912
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
31
|
142
|
550
|
80
|
155
|
24
|
7
|
0
|
75
|
38
|
25
|
.282
|
.351
|
.331
|
.681
|
1913
|
Reds
|
NL
|
32
|
110
|
382
|
47
|
121
|
20
|
13
|
1
|
57
|
20
|
10
|
.317
|
.445
|
.352
|
.797
|
1914
|
Whales
|
FL
|
33
|
126
|
438
|
50
|
112
|
21
|
7
|
2
|
46
|
38
|
19
|
.256
|
.349
|
.317
|
.666
|
1915
|
Whales
|
FL
|
34
|
31
|
67
|
7
|
18
|
2
|
1
|
0
|
9
|
13
|
3
|
.269
|
.328
|
.388
|
.716
|
1916
|
Cubs
|
NL
|
35
|
7
|
10
|
0
|
1
|
0
|
0
|
0
|
1
|
1
|
0
|
.100
|
.100
|
.182
|
.282
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Totals
|
1803
|
6434
|
774
|
1687
|
264
|
114
|
31
|
782
|
416
|
336
|
.262
|
.353
|
.308
|
.661
|
JOE TINKER
|
Career Won-Lost Contribution:
|
271-147
|
|
|
Offensive Winning Percentage:
|
.493
|
Offensive W-L Contribution:
|
143-147
|
|
|
Defensive Winning Percentage:
|
1.001
|
Defensive W-L Contribution:
|
128-0
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, Up to Age 30:
|
1.021
|
Team Success Percentage:
|
.799
|
|
|
Defensive WPct, After 30:
|
.926
|
Estimated Innings at Short:
|
15410
|
|
|
Best Season:
|
1908
|
Career Putouts at Shortstop:
|
3758
|
|
|
|
28-7
|
Expected Putouts at Short:
|
3685
|
+73
|
|
Career 20-Win Seasons:
|
9
|
Career Assists at Shortstop:
|
5848
|
|
|
.800 Seasons (as a regular):
|
1
|
Expected Assists at Short:
|
5466
|
+382
|
|
.700 Seasons (as a regular):
|
3
|
Career Double Plays a/Short:
|
669
|
|
|
.600 Seasons (as a regular):
|
10
|
Expected DPs at Shortstop:
|
599
|
+70
|
|
.500 Seasons (as a regular):
|
13
|
Career Errors at Shortstop:
|
635
|
|
|
Sub-.500 seasons a/regular:
|
0
|
Expected Errors at Short:
|
754
|
+119
|
|
Career Value:
|
333
|
Joe Tinker, of course, was the shortstop in baseball’s most famous double play combination, Tinker to Evers to Chance.
As errors have become less important than other factors in the evaluation of fielding, so too, over the course of decades, fielding itself has become a less definitive element in the success of a baseball team. It may be an exaggeration—or it may not—to say that in 1880 baseball was 50% hitting, 25% pitching, and 25% fielding. Now it is more like 50% hitting, 40% pitching, and 10% fielding. The importance of fielding in the game now—while fielding remains critical to the success of good teams—still the importance of fielding is nothing like what it was a hundred years ago.
There are three reasons that this is true:
1) The gradual disappearance of errors, and thus unearned runs,
2) The increased number of strikeouts, and
3) The increased number of home runs.
There is one factor which offsets these other three to some extent, which is the increased number of double plays.
What I am asserting here is something which—stated in non-statistical terms—is intuitively obvious, and universally accepted. When the pitcher walks somebody, when he gives up a home run, there is nothing that the defense can do about that. Walks and homers take the opportunity to contribute away from the fielders.
Walks have not uniformly increased over time. Walk totals were very low in Joe Tinker’s era, and they have gone up and down over time; there is no clear trend line. Strikeouts and homers, on the other hand, have gone up and up and up.
In the pitching data that I gave for Monte Ward earlier in the article, Monte Ward in 1878 gave up 151 runs, of which 56 were earned, and 95 were unearned. . ..95 unearned runs in a season, more than 60% of Ward’s runs allowed. No American League team in 2010 gave up even 10% of its runs as unearned runs; a couple of National League teams were over 10%, at 11 and 12.
Obviously, if you’re playing a game in which normal fielding averages are .880 and two-thirds of runs scored are unearned, then errors are playing a huge role in offense. The disappearance of these errors makes fielding at a normal level much less significant in distinguishing the performance of one team from another.
In 1876 National League teams typically struck out just more than once a game. By 1906, Joe Tinker’s era, this number was up to 3.8 strikeouts per game. In the 1950s strikeouts reached 5.00 per game; in this 1990s they reached 6.00 per game. A year or two ago one of the leagues touched 7.00 for the first time. If you have 3.8 strikeouts per game, that means that the fielders have to record 23.2 outs a game. If you have 7.0 strikeouts a game, the fielders have to take care of 20. It’s a meaningful difference.
In 19th century baseball, home runs typically accounted for 3 to 4% of runs scored in a league (not counting base runners driven in by the homer.) In Joe Tinker’s time that figure was still 4 to 5%. Now it is more than 20%; in some leagues as high as 26%--again, not counting runners driven in by the homer. There are many more runs there that the fielder can’t do anything about.
We’re asking the question here, "How many games did this player win with his fielding, and how many did he lose with his fielding?" We work toward that in a logical process which involves asking the following questions, and developing formulas to answer those questions as precisely as we can:
1) How many games did the team win, and how many did they lose?
2) Of those games, how many were won (and lost) with hitting, and how many with pitching and defense?
3) Of those games that were won (and lost) with pitching and defense, how many were won (and lost) with pitching, and how many were won and lost with fielding?
4) How much responsibility for defensive play should be assigned to each fielder?
5) How much credit for defensive success can be attributed to each fielder?
In asking these questions, Joe Tinker starts off on the right foot, because his teams—the Cubs of his era—won more games than any other team in baseball history, period. Over any period of years greater than one and less than fifteen, this was the most successful team of all time—by far. Joe Tinker’s Cubs won far more games over a period of three years, four years, five years, whatever, than the Ruth/Gehrig Yankees, the Mantle/Berra Yankees, the Big Red Machine, the Boys of Summer, or any other team.
Well. . .Tinker’s Team Success Percentage, .799, is actually not the highest among these 30 players, although it is one of the highest ever. He did play for one bad team, the 1913 Cincinnati Reds, and this drags his number down a little.
Anyway, when we look at how these teams won and lost their games, it is apparent that they won more with pitching and defense than with offense. We split these, of course, according to how many runs the team scored, how many they allowed, the league norms, and the park effect. If a team scores and allows lots of runs, the credit goes to the offense; if they score and allow very few, the credit goes to the pitching and defense. We credit the Cubs, beginning in 1904, with pitching-and-defense won-lost records of 52-25, 55-18, 59-16, 63-15, 49-28, and 55-20. Their offensive won-lost records were good, too, but their defensive won-lost records were spectacular.
When we look at the next question. . ..
3) Of those games that were won (and lost) with pitching and defense, how many were won (and lost) with pitching, and how many were won and lost with fielding?
When we look at that question, it is very apparent that the role of the fielders in the success of the pitching and defense for the Tinker-era Cubs was huge—much, much larger than normal. The records of their pitchers, evaluated on a superficial level, are fantastic. In 1906 Three Finger Brown went 26-6 with a 1.04 ERA, Jack Pfiester was 20-8, 1.51, Ed Reulbach was 19-4, 1.65, Carl Lundgren was 17-6, 2.21, Jack Taylor was 12-3, 1.84, and Orval Overall was 12-3, 1.88. In 1907 Overall was 23-8, 1.68, Brown was 20-6, 1.39, Lundgren was 18-7, 1.17, Pfiester was 14-9, 1.15, and Reulbach was 17-4, 1.69.
These are remarkable numbers, of course, and understanding that the National League ERA in 1907 was 2.46, they remain extremely good numbers. But ERAs are produced by pitchers and fielders, while won-lost records are produced by pitchers, fielders, hitters and baserunners. The question we ultimately have to ask is, were these actually great pitchers, or was this a case of a defense that was so good that it made whoever was on the mound look like he was a great pitcher?
It is clear, to me, that it was the latter. This is apparent from at least five facts.
1) Whoever the Cubs put on the mound, in the years 1904-1910, had an outstanding record. In those years the Cubs had 44 pitchers who pitched 100 innings in a season; not 44 different pitchers, but 44 pitcher/seasons. Exactly one-half of those, 22 of 44, had ERAs starting with a "1". 43 of the 44 had ERAs of 3.29 or better. If anybody and everybody that you put on the mound gets good results, what does that tell you? It tells you that the defense is at least pretty good.
2) Almost all of the Cub pitchers of those years also pitched with other teams. None of them was outstanding when pitching with other teams. Every pitcher who came to the Cubs in those years immediately saw dramatic improvements in their performance. Orval Overall, pitching for the Reds in 1905, was 18-23, 2.86 ERA. Early in the 1906 season, still with the Reds, he was 4-5, 4.28 ERA. Traded to the Cubs, he immediately posted spectacular improvements in his won-lost record and ERA.
Bob Wicker, with the Cardinals in 1902, was 5-12. Traded to the Cubs early in the 1903 season, he went 20-9, 17-9 and 13-6 with the Cubs, ERAs from 2.02 to 2.97. Chick Fraser with the Phillies in 1904 was 14-24, 3.25 ERA. With the Braves in 1905 he was 14-21, 3.29. With the Reds in 1906 he was 10-20, 2.67.. .his third straight 20-loss season, with three different teams. Traded to the Cubs in 1907, he was 8-5 with a 2.28 ERA.
In fact, here’s a way to demonstrate that. During the 2006 season, the Cubs made two straight-up pitcher-for-pitcher trades: Bob Wicker for Orvall Overall (and $2,000), and Fred Beebe for Jack Taylor. With the Cincinnati Reds, Overall and Wicker made a total of 27 starts, pitched 232 innings, and finished 10-16 with a 3.26 ERA. With the Cubs, they made 22 starts, pitched 216 innings, and finished 15-8 with a 2.25 ERA.
With the Cardinals, Taylor and Beebe pitched 316 innings, won 17 games, lost 18, and had an ERA of 2.59, which was about the league average. With the Cubs they pitched 217 innings, won 19 games, lost only 4, and had an ERA of 2.12.
Even Three Finger Brown, the one member of this pitching staff who might be described as an outstanding pitcher. .. .well, he is in the Hall of Fame. But even Brown came up with the Cardinals, and was 9-13 with a 2.60 ERA for the 1903 Cardinals. Traded to the Cubs that winter, he was 15-10 with a 1.86 ERA the next year. He was with the Cubs until 1912. Traded to the Reds in 1913, he went 11-12 for the Reds.
3) The Cubs’ strikeouts, walks and home runs allowed, as a team, are not outstanding, and are nowhere near so outstanding as to explain the great success of the team’s pitching and defense.
You may remember that a couple of years ago I introduced a method of stating a pitcher’s strikeouts and walks as a won-lost record; the article is here somewhere. Many pitchers have almost the same strike zone won-lost record as their actual won-lost record, and even more have almost the same winning percentage; Luis Tiant, for example, has an actual won-lost record of 229-173, and a strike zone won-lost record of 227-169. All the pitcher really does, after all, is strike people out and walk them; other than that and home runs, it’s up to the fielders.
But all or almost all of the pitchers from this team have dramatically better "credited" or "actual" won-lost records than strike zone won-lost records. Ed Reulbach, for example, was 182-107 in his career despite a strike zone won-lost record of 155-154. Carl Lundgren was 91-55 despite a strike zone won-lost record of 75-88. All of the pitchers on the team had at least somewhat better actual winning percentages than strike zone winning percentages.
4) One of the things we do to distinguish between pitching and fielding is to ask the question "Of all balls put into play against this team, what percentage were turned into outs?" The answer to that question is DER, Defensive Efficiency Record; it’s a stat I have used since the mid-1970s.
The 1906 Cubs had the highest Defensive Efficiency Record of all time, .764. The 1909 Cubs had the second-best ever, .762. The 1907 Cubs were fifth on the list (.759), and the 1908 Cubs were tenth (.754). The 1905 Cubs were 17th all-time.
This team was better than any other team ever at turning a hit ball into an out.
5) The team’s Double Play totals, in context, were also very good; more on that later.
It is very clear, to me, that the 1904-1910 Cubs won far more games with exceptional fielding than any other team in baseball history. We then have to address the question of who, on the team, receives individual credit for that performance?
Joe Tinker was the team’s shortstop. As the shortstop, we assume, as a starting point, that he may receive substantial credit for the team’s defensive performance. From there, we look at his individual defensive statistics, relative to those of other players on the team. We do that by asking, "Given the team’s defensive statistics, how many assists would we expect the shortstop to have? How many putouts would we expect the shortstop to have?"
Joe Tinker always has more assists at shortstop than we would expect him to have—literally every year of his career except 1916, when he played only 4 games at short and was +/- zero. Otherwise he is "plus" every year--+382 for his career. It’s a huge number, the third-biggest number in this survey, behind Germany Smith (+452) and Ozzie Smith (+403). Tinker’s other numbers are also plusses; I’ll explain those better later in the series.
We assign Joe Tinker a defensive responsibility, and we assign him credit for defensive success. In his case, the credit that we assign him for quality defensive player is larger than the area of responsibility, resulting in a winning percentage of 1.001.
Franklin Adams, in writing his famous poem, centered the defensive excellence of this team in their ability to turn the Double Play. This has been the occasion of much comment, and I am sure you have read that the Double Play totals of this team a) were very low compared to modern teams, and b) were not particularly outstanding even in their own time.
Well, yes, that’s true. But you have to look at those stats in context. Teams in the dead ball era bunted and stole bases at many times the frequency rates of modern teams. Teams bunted hundreds of times a year. The bunt was so ubiquitous, in Dead Ball baseball, that in many cases the manager did not even signal for the bunt; it was automatic. The 1908 Cubs had 270 sacrifice bunts on offense; that’s the sacrifice bunts. There may have been another 150 players who bunted for a hit in sacrifice situations. Teams also stole 200 or 300 bases a year, and their stolen base percentages were terrible.
There were very few Double Plays in that era because bunts, stolen bases and caught stealing all take away Double Play opportunities.
Also, you have to adjust the Double Play totals of the team for the number of opposition runners on base, and for the ground ball tendencies of the pitching staff. The Cubs, who gave up very few hits, had fewer runners on base against them than any other team. But when you adjust for those things, they were in fact a very good double play team—not fantastic, not historically abnormal, but good. The team completed 99 Double Plays in 1905 against an expectation of 89, 100 Double Plays in 1906 against an expectation of 86, 110 in 1907 against an expectation of 95, 76 in 1908 against an expectation of 72.
Franklin Adams may have been a little bit wrong to center the defensive excellence of the team in their ability to turn the double play, but he was just writing a little poem; he never expected it to be such a big deal. He was putting in words what was in the air: that this was the greatest defensive infield that anybody had ever seen. And in fact it was.
I know that not everybody agrees with this. I know that there are other people who have looked at this issue and reached a different conclusion. I’ve looked at the issue myself at other times, not knowing as much as I do now, and reached a different conclusion. I’ll have to leave it up to you to weigh this analysis against the others. But it is my opinion that Joe Tinker was very possibly the greatest defensive shortstop in the history of baseball, and that he is a well-deserving Hall of Famer.
I’m planning to do a five-part series here, six players in each part; I’ve done all of the research but I have only written this part. I’ll try to get back to it as soon as I can, but I’m travelling, and it may be a couple of days before I get any more done.