The Could Be Hall of Famers

              As I mentioned yesterday, I do not believe that there is any such thing in baseball history as a pitcher who missed out on the Hall of Fame because he pitched his career in tough luck.    There are certainly many, many pitchers who missed the Hall of Fame by bad luck of one kind or another—Johan Santana, for example, and Herb Score and Doc Gooden and Jim Maloney and J. R. Richard, and Monte Stratton and Carl Mays and Tom Cheney.  There are many, many kinds of bad luck in the world, but we are talking here about a particular kind of bad luck, the bad luck of pitching well but not getting a win.   The bad luck of not having the won-lost records that you deserve, so people never realize that you are as good as you are.   There isn’t any such animal as a Hall of Fame pitcher who missed the Hall of Fame by THAT kind of bad luck.  

              Well. . .but how can that be true?   If there are pitchers who got into the Hall of Fame because of this kind of good luck, don’t there have to be pitchers who got left out for the same reason?   How is that possible?

              It is possible for two reasons, or maybe three.  

              First, pitchers do not pitch their entire careers for bad teams.   When a young pitcher comes to the majors and is effective while pitching for a non-competitive team, he is then traded to a competitive team, or else the team gets good, or he goes to a good team as a free agent, or something happens to get him to a good team. This is true now; it was true 125 years ago.   It has always been true.   It is not true 50% of the time or 60% or 70%; it is true 90% of the time or more.    Good young pitchers just don’t stay with bad teams.  Red Ruffing, John Smoltz, Chris Sale, Carlos Quintana, Three Finger Brown, Don Larsen, Max Scherzer, Sonny Gray, Tom Seaver; that’s the way it is.  The good pitchers gather on the league’s best teams.  

              There ARE some good young pitchers with bad teams who get over-worked by those bad teams, blow out their arms and immediately disappear.   That happened to Glen Hobbie in 1960, for example, and it still happens now.   But that, again, is a different kind of luck.   But for a young pitcher to get stuck with a bad team and just stay there and stay there. . . .it almost never happens.  

              Second—this is the speculative one—a pitcher may get stuck with bad teams, sometimes, but the Hall of Fame voters may perceive that this has happened, and may elect him to the Hall of Fame anyway.    Ted Lyons, for example, did kind of get stuck with bad teams, and he did wind up with a won-lost record that was a little bit short of what he deserved, but the Hall of Fame voters elected him anyway.   Eppa Rixey, same thing; he pitched for a lot of bad teams and wound up his career just 266-251, but he was actually better than that, and he got elected to the Hall of Fame anyway.    Or the pitcher may be SO good, like Ferguson Jenkins or Walter Johnson, that the fact that he pitches for bad teams just doesn’t matter.  

              Third, I said that there are no pitchers who would be in the Hall of Fame if they had AVERAGE luck, but I didn’t say that there were no un-lucky pitchers who would be in the Hall of Fame if they had had GOOD luck. 

              OK, let’s look at the 12 pitchers who might be in the Hall of Fame, with better luck.   They are ranked by a combination of their bad luck, and their Hall of Fame credentials as I might guess them to be, with better luck:

1)  Curt Schilling.   Of course, stating the obvious:

              1)  Curt Schilling might be in the Hall of Fame anyway,

              2)  Schilling almost certainly WILL be in the Hall of Fame within a few years, and

              3)  What is keeping him out, for now, is mostly his own behavior.  

              I don’t think you can say that Schilling has been "left out" of the Hall of Fame; he just hasn’t been elected yet.  But Schilling has a career won-lost record of 216-146, and I think that many voters may not realize that he was actually quite a bit better than that.   Schilling, like those guys listed a minute ago, came up with the Orioles in a year in which they lost 107 games, and spent a couple of years with the Orioles trying to find himself while they were trying to find themselves.   In 1991 he pitched for the Astros, who were 65-97, and in ’92 was traded to the Phillies, who were 70-92.   The Phillies, led as much by Schilling as by anyone else, jumped into the World Series in 1993, but were back under .500 in 1994 and 1995, and back in last place by 1996.    He was with the Phillies for nine years, and they were under .500 in eight of them.  Schilling was 9-10 in 1996, when he should have 13-8, he was 17-11 in 1997, when he should have been 19-10, and he was 15-14 in 1998, when he should have been 21-9.    He was 11-12 in 2000, when he should have been 16-9.  

              Eventually, like almost all good pitchers on bad teams, he went to better teams.   Schilling did have some slightly lucky seasons later in his career, when he got to Boston, but for his career he is 27 wins short of the number he really should have.   27 wins is an enormous number, in the context of a Hall of Fame discussion, where five wins can be the difference between in and out.  In terms of runs saved against average, Schilling is comparable to Bob Gibson and Jim Palmer, who are obvious Hall of Famers:

2.  Jack Powell

              Jack Powell was a Honus Wagner-era pitcher who had the misfortune to pitch the second half of his career with the St. Louis Browns at a time when they were losing 100 games a year.  

              I would not endorse the notion that Jack Powell was a great pitcher; frankly he was not.   But he did win 245 games in career, and he was better than his won-lost record says that he was.   He should have won 259 games and he should have been 20+ games over .500, and until 1960, pitchers with records like that were often elected to the Hall of Fame.    If he had been as lucky as he was unlucky, then you would be talking about a pitcher with a record something like 275-220, and then he would be in the Hall of Fame.  

3.  Jerry Koosman

              In addition to his historic bad-luck streak in 1977 and 1978, when he was the unluckiest pitcher in the majors both years, Koosman had six other seasons in which his performance was at least a little bit better than his won-lost record.  Taxes, what taxes?   Man, I pitched for the Mets!   I’ve paid my dues. 

              But also, Koosman lost a Cy Young Award that he probably deserved due to another pitcher’s good luck.   If he was 240-198 and had won a Cy Young Award. . .well, there’s a chance.  

4.  Rick Reuschel

              Rick Reuschel in his career was unlucky by 15 games.   If he had been LUCKY by the same margin, that would have made him 244-161 in his career, and then he would have been a strong Hall of Fame candidate.  But the point that I was really trying to make was that pitchers like Koosman and Reuschel, not if they had been as lucky as they were unlucky in the won-lost record, but simply if they had wound up with the career won-lost records that they deserved based on how they pitched, then they COULD have gotten lucky in the voting process.   Some guys do; Catfish Hunter did, and Jesse Haines, maybe Drysdale, certainly Marquard.   Some guys get lucky in the process.    If Koosman had been 240-198 or if Reuschel had been 229-176, then they COULD have caught a break in the voting, and they might have gotten in.   And Reuschel, like Koosman, lost a Cy Young Award that he probably should have won, but lost it not to his own bad luck, but to another pitcher’s good luck.  

5.   Kevin Brown

              Kevin Brown was 211-144 in his career, and was 305 runs better than league average as a pitcher.   Pitchers with records no better than that do get elected to the Hall of Fame sometimes.   Jesse Haines was 210-158, 129 runs better-than-league; he’s in the Hall of Fame.   Drysdale was 209-166, 229 runs better-than-league; he was elected.   Hal Newhouser was 207-150, 309 runs better than the league; he was eventually elected.   Rube Marquard was 201-177, only 46 runs better than the league; he was elected.   Dazzy Vance was 197-140, 251 runs better than the league; he was elected.  

              Brown was not well liked, either by the media or by his teammates.   He was regarded as a sour, grouchy person who was always annoyed about something.   But Kevin Brown could have been elected to the Hall of Fame, just based on the won-lost record that he was stuck with.   If the voters understood that he was actually significantly better than his won-lost record—fourteen wins better—then he might be in by now.  

6.  Frank Tanana

              One of the best pitchers in baseball from 1975 to 1977, Tanana hung around for 15 years after that as just another pitcher.   He won 240 games, deserved 250. 

7.  Bobo Newsom

              A near-mythical figure of the 1920s, 1930s, 1940s and early 1950s, Bobo bounced from team to team decade after decade, drinkin’ and pitchin’ and giving interviews in which he referred to himself in the third person.  Everybody realized that he had top-shelf ability, but he was thought of as too unreliable to be part of a first-rate organization.  Mostly he pitched for bad teams; occasionally a good team would trade for him for help down the stretch drive.    On the whole he was shorted by about one game a year. 

8.  Bob Friend

              Bob Friend was comparable over his career to Mickey Lolich or Jerry Reuss.  

9.  Billy Pierce

              I made up a little formula to rate these guys, which apparently doesn’t work too well, because Billy Pierce would appear to be one of the stronger candidates for "guy who lost his Hall of Fame shot by bad luck."   Pierce was regarded as perhaps the premier pitcher in the American League just before Whitey Ford.    Pierce led the American League in ERA in 1955, won 20 games in ’56 and ’57, led the league in strikeouts in ’53, strikeout to walk ratio in ’55, complete games in ’56.  He was the only pitcher of the 1950s to post an ERA under 2.00, qualifying for the league lead (1.97 in ’55).   His career record was 211-169, comparable to Drysdale (209-166) and other Hall of Famers.   His career record should have been 7 ½ games better than it was.   Don’t know whether that would have made a difference for him.   No relation to 1920s pitcher Bill Piercy.  

10.  Chuck Finley

              I worked an arbitration case for Chuck Finley when he was young, which I think settled at the last moment, and I always rooted for him after that.   I was a big Chuck Finley fan.   He was a tall left-hander with a long delivery but exceptional grace; it was sort of like Frankenstein’s monster had gone to ballet classes.   I always thought he was just inches away from being a truly great pitcher, but it seemed like he was snake bit.   Any time he would get on a role, win four straight games, something weird would happen to de-rail him.   Watching him pitch, though, I really thought he was in the same class with Clemens and Randy; I mean, I know the record shows that he wasn’t, but that’s how I thought of him.    But the won-lost record he should have had is better than the record that some guys IN the Hall of Fame actually had. 

11.   Babe Adams

              One of the great control pitchers ever, Babe Adams was the hero of the 1909 World Series, winning three games.   He was a very handsome man, picking up the nickname "Babe" in the minor leagues off of some song which used the term "Babe".   The female fans loved him; I think that is notable because sometimes people have the impression that there were no female baseball fans until the 1960s.  I think he was the only significant major league player called "Babe" before The Babe.   He lived off of a big curve ball, which is odd for a control pitcher, but David Wells was like that.   Rube Waddell was 193-143 in his career, Dazzy Vance 197-140, Babe about the same and deserved better. 

              Adams was an intelligent man who lived a long and interesting life.    He was in Europe in World War I, and went back to Europe as a war correspondent during World War II, then went to Korea as a war correspondent in the fifties. 

12.   Dave Stieb 

              By my reckoning, Dave Stieb was the best starting pitcher in the major leagues in 1983 and 1984, the best in the American League in 1982 and probably in 1985 (although Stieb vs. Saberhagen is too close to call), very nearly the best in 1981 (McCatty and Morris were a tiny bit better) and one of the top ten in 1980.   It is actually a very unusual period of dominance, but it was masked by won-lost records less than he deserved.  He may be the only pitcher ever who deserved to win 20 games four straight seasons, but never did.  The Blue Jays were a last-place team 1980 to 1982; he just didn’t catch breaks 1983 to 1985.  He got lucky after he was no longer as good.     

              I don’t know that I could say honestly that Bobo Newsom was a "great" pitcher or that Bob Friend was a great pitcher, but I wouldn’t have any hesitation is saying that Dave Stieb was a great pitcher in his prime.   I don’t think anyone who was following baseball closely would have trouble with that.   It was a strange era; the 1970s stars were still hanging on, most notably Carlton and Palmer, but no new stars had come along to replace them.   There was Fernando, but Fernando was really only great that one year, and Jack Morris, who was very good but not truly great, Mario Soto who was great for a couple of years, but there just weren’t any Roger Clemens/Randy Johnson/Greg Maddux/Pedro Martinez type pitching superstars, no Scherzer or Sale or Kershaw.  Blyleven wasn’t as good in the early 80s as he was in the 70s or the late 80s.  Stieb was the best there was, but somehow he was always stuck in second gear, it seemed like.   He threw a power sinker, like Kevin Brown; very few guys do that.   You knew he was going to throw it, but if you hit it was a ground ball, and if you didn’t swing it was a strike, so what can you do?  Whether he was a great pitcher for a long enough period of time to make the Hall of Fame, I don’t know. 

              (So I checked.   Greg Maddux also had a streak of four straight seasons in which he deserved to win 20, but did not.   Bert Blyleven had a streak of six straight seasons in which he should have won 20 and pitched in bad luck, but one of them was that amazing year when he should have won 25 but did win 20 despite pitching in terrible luck, so that’s a streak of 2, then a streak of 3.   Roger Clemens had a streak of 7 straight seasons when he should have won 20 six times, but he did win 20 in 3 of those, and no streak longer than two.   Nap Rucker, 100 years ago, had a streak of five seasons in which he should have won 20 every year, but actually won 20 only once, and was still below where he should have been in that season.  Maddux and Stieb are the only guys who had streaks of four straight seasons in which they should have won 20, but did not.)