Monday Morning Blog

June 1, 2009

 

1.  Apology 1

 

          I need to begin this week for begging your forgiveness for a couple of my failings.   First, there was a letter in the Hey, Bill, section a couple of weeks ago from a writer who signed off as “Igor”.   Igor’s question was:

 

From 1993-2003 MLB not only encouraged steroid use but thrived on developing 16-18 year old latino/dominican players to gain size and strength on their small frames. Do you forsee their being a decrease in not only scouting but signing these players at a young age? Also, do you see this as the reason fundamental baseball (defense) and asian born players are in such high demand today? Signing bonuses went through the roof in 94 & I think MLB shifted more to Latino b/c they could sign them for next to nothing. Latinos had nothing to fall back on at home so they did anything to make the bigs. I feel MLB should take the blame for the steroid use since no policy was in place & quit looking to go after players from this era. MLB basically forced Bonds to prove he was the best player. He was the best until others caught up to him b/c of the roids. So he basically took it into his hands and proved he was the best. Do you see anything in this argument?

            My response to this question, which I won’t repeat here, was rude and hostile.   If Igor had deliberately insulted my children’s intelligence, my father’s courage and my wife’s accessories, it might still have been considered harsh.  I accused the poor man of racism, paranoia and massive ignorance—and that was in the first sentence.   I went on for three paragraphs.  This wasn’t necessary, and it wasn’t appropriate. 

            Igor’s question irritated me because. . .well, let’s not get into that.   That will make the problem worse.   I have a friend who talks often about learning to disagree without being disagreeable.  I’ve always had some issues with that.   I have problems with learning to disagree without snapping into total destruction mode.      But the response I should have given is something more like this:

 

            I don’t know that it is helpful to link the steroid discussion to the nationality of the players.   The Latin American players have been accused of bringing this problem into the game, but the reality is that steroids entered baseball from many sources.   Steroids were widely used in high school football programs in America in the 1970s and 1980s, routinely used in some places.   Almost every American who played major league baseball in the 1980s or 1990s played high school football in the 1970s or 1980s.   This was a wide-open channel for steroids to enter baseball unless there was effective leadership to keep them out, and MLB totally dropped the ball on keeping them out.   So, yes, MLB is responsible for it, and yes, we should quit attacking the players who were renegades in a renegade society, but I don’t see the value in bringing the Latino issue into it. 

 

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2.  Apology 2

 

            My other apology is of a different nature, having to do with a different failing.   Several times here over the past few weeks, I have described the NBA as “minor league” basketball, and NCAA basketball as “real” basketball. 

            I had a purpose in mind in doing this.  I was trying to get my readers to challenge their assumptions.    I have an article I need to write somewhere about what makes a league a “major” league.   Is Japanese baseball major league baseball, or isn’t it?  (It is.)  I believe that many people assume that what makes a league a major league is simply having the best players.  That’s not true—or, in my opinion, it’s not true.   That’s one element of being a major league; there are others.   I was trying, by asserting that the NBA is the minor league and college basketball the major, to shake people out of their assumptions, and get them to look at the issue in a different way.

            But the fact that I had a reason for doing this doesn’t mean that it was the right thing to do or say.  By saying that the NBA was minor league basketball, I insulted the NBA, the NBA players, and people who work in the NBA, several of whom are my friends.   I offended people who are NBA fans.  I didn’t stop to think about that—or, worse yet, maybe I did see that out of the corner of my eye, but I just didn’t pay attention to it. 

            The NBA is not minor league basketball, of course.   It was a stupid thing to say, and I shouldn’t have said it.   The NBA has some issues.   I have some things I want to say about what makes a league a “major” league, and I will still get to those, but I should not have chosen to try to make my point in this thoughtless manner.  

 

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3.  Making Bob Feller Whole

 

            I wrote last week that it turns out to be impossible to fill in the World War II gap in Bob Feller’s career with similar seasons by other pitchers, because there just aren’t any similar seasons by other pitchers.   How, then, can we create a record for Bob Feller, to represent what he might reasonably have done during the four years that he gave in service to your liberty?

            Of course, someone at this point is obligated to point out that, had Feller pitched 300-350 innings a year from 1942-1945 (as he did in the other years 1939-1946), there is a substantial probability that he would have had an injury that curtailed his career long before its natural end.   This is certainly possible—and it is possible that he would not have.   All I’m saying is, let’s assume the latter, and fill in the gap.   How do we do that?

            What I did was, I started with a list of pitchers from the Retrosheet era who had some characteristics that we need to clone Bob Feller—strikeouts, walks, complete games, etc.  The pitchers I chose were Bob Turley (1954 and 1955), Herb Score (1956), Sam Jones (1959), Bob Veale (1964 and 1965), Jim Maloney (1965), Bob Gibson (1965), Mickey Lolich (1969), Nolan Ryan (1972, 1973 and 1974), J. R. Richard (1978), and John Hiller (1973).  Hiller was included because Feller in his prime would pitch in relief about five times a year.

            I went to Retrosheet and downloaded Game Logs for all of those pitchers, and moved these into a spreadsheet.    This gave me 565 pitcher game lines in a spreadsheet.  The total of those games was 256 wins, 172 losses, 2.83 ERA, 3,684 strikeouts, 1,874 walks in 3,738 innings. 

            That’s not terribly far from a Bob Feller level of performance to begin with, but we can move it closer to the level we need by selectively removing some of the games.  I set 12 “targets” to represent Feller’s performance.  To establish the targets for Feller in the years 1942-1945, I simply used the total of the four surrounding years (1939-1941 and 1946)—174 games, 102 wins, 48 losses, 2.68 ERA, 7.54 strikeouts per nine innings, 4.10 walks per nine innings, etc.

            Then I targeted games for elimination by counting in how many ways each game line was helpful, and in how many ways it was unhelpful.    Since the winning percentage was too low, losses were unhelpful, whereas wins were helpful.    Since the walks per nine innings were too high, high-walk games were unhelpful, whereas low-walk games were helpful.   Since the ERA was initially too high, high-ERA games were unhelpful, whereas low-ERA games were helpful.  

            I counted how many ways in which each season was helpful or unhelpful, and added a random number so that which games would be removed would not be too strictly logical, since that would cause the systematic removal of the “extreme” games, leaving “mid-range” or “un-exceptional” games in the file.   Then I would remove ten “unhelpful” games, and repeat the process.  

            By doing this, I was able to form a set of games which almost perfectly represented Bob Feller-level performance.     This consumes man hours and I don’t really have the time at the moment, but I enjoy doing it.   You can take Frank Thomas games and select from them so that he looks like A. J. Pierzynski, or you can select A. J. Pierzynski games and make him look like Frank Thomas.    It’s fun, in a certain mad-scientist sort of way—making Ichiro Suzuki out of Vladimir Guerrero, making Nomar Garciaparra out of Juan Pierre.   I have to remember not to cackle while I’m doing this.    

            Anyway, once you have the games selected, you can simply randomly sort out 42 to 46 of them, and you have another Bob Feller season.   You can repeat the process 1,000 times, and make 1,000 Bob Feller seasons.     Don’t ask me why I enjoy this. 

            I didn’t actually create 1,000 Bob Feller seasons; since I only needed four, I just created 200.   Our problem now is that we have 200 Bob Feller seasons, and we only need four of them.    The best of these 200 Bob Feller seasons were:

 

G	GS	CG	ShO	IP	SO	BB	W-L	ERA
44	41	35	10	359.2	325	128	32-7	1.83
45	41	34	10	369.2	294	151	35-6	1.80
45	42	34	10	366.0	319	144	33-8	1.99

 

 

            And the worst were:

 

G	GS	CG	ShO	IP	SO	BB	W-L	ERA
46	39	26	5	326.0	273	175	17-20	3.34
42	37	25	3	288.2	231	145	19-16	3.62
43	38	22	6	306.0	237	144	19-20	3.03

 

            Of the 200 Bob Feller seasons:

 

• 22 were 30-win seasons,
• 121 were seasons of 25 or more wins,
• 194 (or 97%) were seasons of 20 or more wins,
• 34 were seasons of 300 or more strikeouts,
• 157 were seasons of 250 or more strikeouts,
• All had at least 200 strikeouts,
• 5 had ERAs under 2.00,
• 65 had ERAs under 2.50,
• 165 had ERAs no higher than 3.00, and
• Only two had losing records.

 

            At least 80% of these Bob Feller seasons would be Cy Young seasons by modern standards, although the Cy Young Award was not introduced until ten years after the war. 

We can estimate that, had Bob Feller’s career continued forward from 1941 without any disruption from the war (that is, if World War II had never happened), and had he remained healthy throughout those years, there is a 37% chance that he would have had a 30-victory season, whereas there is only a 4% chance that he would have had a losing record in any of the four seasons.

 

            Anyway, our immediate task is to choose four seasons from these 200 to best represent Feller.   I decided to look for seasons that were entirely within the norms of Feller’s actual 1939-1946 performance in as many areas as possible.   I was left, however, with 64 seasons which were entirely within Feller’s actual performance norms in every significant area, so I simply decided to sort out four of them at random.   This is what I got:

 

Year	G	GS	CG	ShO	IP	H	SO	BB	W-L	ERA
1942	44	39	27	6	334.0	253	272	147	26-16	2.80
1943	42	38	30	5	330.1	245	265	145	24-11	2.21
1944	43	37	25	8	298.0	235	246	141	25-10	2.72
1945	45	41	27	5	343.0	276	308	159	26-14	2.86

 

            If you add that in to Feller’s actual career for the other seasons, it gives Feller a career record of 362 wins, 210 losses, 5,061 innings pitched, 3,613 strikeouts, 67 shutouts, and an ERA of 3.11. 

 

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4.  Win Shares—Right Field Defense

 

            I wanted to begin my Win Shares work for the week by explaining that I’ve made some little adjustments to the system to get better defensive rankings for right fielders.   Last week, when we compared Dwight Evans to Dave Parker, we had Defensive Winning Percentages for both players in the .400 range.   This is too low.   Right fielders are in the middle of the defensive spectrum, thus players who should have defensive winning percentages around .500.   Evans, as a Gold Glove right fielder, might be expected to be over .500 (although he isn’t, even after my adjustments.)    But I can defend where he is now; I couldn’t defend where he was before the adjustments.

            Evans from 1973 through 1979 had a defensive winning percentage of .630 (after the adjustments), and for a few years after that he was around .500.   But you have to remember:  Evans had a very long career.   He spent a year as a DH, two half-years as a not-very-good defensive first baseman, and several years in the outfield at the end of his career when he was living on his reputation.  I have him now with a defensive won-lost record of 56-61 (27-16 through 1979, 29-45 from 1980 on.)    I think that’s more reasonable.

            This changes Evans’ career Win Shares/Loss Shares from 310-196 (.610) to 319-188 (.629); in other words, he was above a Hall of Fame standard anyway, and he’s further above it now.   Dave Parker goes from 289-212 (.577) to 296-205 (.592); in other words, he was near a Hall of Fame standard before, and is nearer now.  

            But, of course, the way Win Shares works, when more credit is given to one player, less must be given to someone else.   To improve the defensive evaluations of right fielders, I robbed little bits of credit from catchers, first basemen, shortstops, left fielders and center fielders.  It doesn’t amount to much.   Lou Brock, who had a defensive won-lost record of 56-82 before, would now be at 55-83, and Johnny Damon, who was at 42-39 before, would now be at 41-40.   But it does cause “newer” Win Shares to fail to match with older estimates, so I wanted to explain that, in case you spot discrepancies. 

            In general, what I am trying to do with Win Shares and Loss Shares is introduce them slowly enough that, in concert with the reading public, I can spot some of the flaws and fix them as we go along—rather than simply dumping them on the public, and allowing people to find the flaws and carp about them on their own.  Not that this will eliminate criticism of the system or should, but I am trying to use the public comment in a constructive way to refine the method.

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5.  The 1937 First Basemen

 

            I thought what I would do this week is to pick some years in which the players who played at a position were particularly interesting, and rate the regulars from that season by Win Shares and Loss Shares.   In the late 1930s there were a bunch of outstanding first basemen at the same time, so let’s start with the first basemen of 1937.   This is the way I rate them, based strictly on that season’s performance:

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	Avg	SPct	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	Pct
1937	Yankees	Lou Gehrig	157	569	37	159	.351	.643	.473	1.116	29	1	.973
1937	Cardinals	Johnny Mize	145	560	25	113	.364	.595	.427	1.021	26	2	.925
1937	Tigers	Hank Greenberg	154	594	40	183	.337	.668	.436	1.105	26	5	.841
1937	Phillies	Dolph Camilli	131	475	27	80	.339	.587	.446	1.034	22	3	.871
1937	Red Sox	Jimmie Foxx	150	569	36	127	.285	.538	.392	.929	21	11	.650
1937	Indians	Hal Trosky	153	601	32	128	.298	.547	.367	.915	21	13	.629
1937	White Sox	Zeke Bonura	116	447	19	100	.345	.573	.412	.984	18	6	.753
1937	Pirates	Gus Suhr	151	575	5	97	.278	.402	.369	.771	20	15	.572
1937	Senators	Joe Kuhel	136	547	6	61	.283	.400	.357	.758	15	15	.504
1937	Braves	Elbie Fletcher	148	539	1	38	.247	.308	.321	.629	15	19	.451
1937	Giants	Johnny McCarthy	114	420	10	65	.279	.410	.322	.732	13	12	.505
1937	Cubs	Ripper Collins	115	456	16	71	.274	.436	.329	.765	13	15	.457
1937	Dodgers	Buddy Hassett	137	556	1	53	.304	.387	.334	.721	13	19	.401
1937	Browns	Harry Davis	120	450	3	35	.276	.364	.374	.739	9	16	.367
1937	Reds	Les Scarsella	110	329	3	34	.246	.331	.285	.617	6	15	.284
1937	A's	Lou Finney	92	379	1	20	.251	.343	.288	.631	6	17	.255

 

            I’m ranking the players here by how far they are above .300—thus, Hank Greenberg (26-5) ranks ahead of Dolph Camilli (22-3), even though Camilli’s percentage is better. 

            I don’t know if 1937 was exactly the right year to pick.   I picked 1937 because Greenberg missed 1936 with an injury and Gehrig was fading by 1938, but then Foxx didn’t have a good year in 1937; 1937 was the only season between 1932 and 1939 in which The Beast didn’t hit at least .334 with an on base percentage of at least .440 and a slugging percentage of at least .631.  In 1937, as you can see, he missed all of those standards by wide margins (.285, .392, .538).

            Elbie Fletcher was the best defensive first baseman in the majors in 1937, and later on he became a guy who would walk 115 times a year.   It is interesting to note that, even as a rookie in 1937, hitting just .247 with one home run and a strikeout/walk ratio less than even, he still rates as nearly a .500 player.

            The first basemen of 1937 can be divided into eight “Power Hitting first basemen” (1. Gehrig, 2. Mize, 3. Greenberg, 4. Camilli, 5. Trosky, 6. Foxx, 7. Bonura, 8. Ripper Collins) and eight “Glove Men first basemen” (1. Gus Suhr, 2. Joe Kuhel, 3. Fletcher, 4. Johnny McCarthy, 5. Buddy Hassett, 6. Harry (Stinky) Davis, 7. Les Scarsella, 8. Lou Finney. )  Gus Suhr was a really good player, didn’t hit many home runs because he played in Forbes Field, but he played every day, had great strikeout/walk ratios, usually hit around .300 and drove in 100 runs on doubles and triples. 

             I still think Frankie Frisch had to be the dumbest manager in the history of baseball to finish fourth with the 1937 Cardinals. 

 

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6.  The 1962 Right Fielders

 

            In 1961 Right Fielders won the MVP Awards in both leagues, Maris and Frank Robinson.    Here’s how they rank in 1962:

 

Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	Avg	SPct	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	W Pct
Reds	Frank Robinson	162	609	39	136	.342	.624	.421	1.045	30	1	.983
Phillies	Johnny Callison	157	603	23	83	.300	.491	.363	.854	23	9	.725
Yankees	Roger Maris	157	590	33	100	.256	.485	.356	.840	23	10	.695
Giants	Felipe Alou	154	561	25	98	.316	.513	.356	.869	21	9	.711
Cubs	George Altman	147	534	22	74	.318	.511	.393	.904	19	8	.691
Twins	Bob Allison	149	519	29	102	.266	.511	.370	.881	19	10	.671
Dodgers	Frank Howard	141	493	31	119	.296	.560	.346	.906	19	8	.693
Senators	Chuck Hinton	151	542	17	75	.310	.472	.361	.834	18	11	.614
Pirates	Roberto Clemente	144	538	10	74	.312	.454	.352	.805	18	12	.598
Tigers	Al Kaline	100	398	29	94	.304	.593	.376	.969	15	6	.699
Red Sox	Lu Clinton	114	398	18	75	.294	.540	.349	.890	13	7	.662
Colts	Roman Mejias	146	566	24	76	.286	.445	.326	.771	16	15	.516
Orioles	Russ Snyder	139	416	9	40	.305	.435	.335	.770	13	9	.598
Mets	Richie Ashburn	135	389	7	28	.306	.393	.424	.817	12	8	.617
Braves	Mack Jones	91	333	10	36	.255	.420	.354	.775	11	9	.557
A's	Gino Cimoli	152	550	10	71	.275	.420	.323	.743	13	16	.448
White Sox	Mike Hershberger	148	427	4	46	.262	.333	.324	.657	10	15	.400
Cardinals	Charlie James	129	388	8	59	.276	.392	.301	.693	9	13	.412
Indians	Willie Kirkland	137	419	21	72	.200	.377	.272	.649	9	16	.369
Angels	George Thomas	56	181	4	12	.238	.381	.320	.701	5	6	.448

 

            Notes:

            1.  Frank Robinson ranks as both the #1 offensive and the #1 defensive right fielder of 1962.  

            2.  Hank Aaron wasn’t playing right in 1962; he was playing mostly center, while Mack Jones was playing right.  They flipped them in ’63, sent Aaron back to right and put Jones in center.   Aaron had his typical year with the bat, and, were he ranked as a right fielder, would rank second behind Robinson—second offensively, and also second in the field.

            3.  Johnny Callison was a fine defensive right fielder, and from ’62 to ’65 would rank right there with Frank Robinson, Aaron and Clemente as the best in the NL.   For some reason he didn’t stay good a long time like they did.

            4.  George Altman had a better year with the bat than Bob Allison (16-5 vs. 15-7), but Allison was quite a bit better in the field.   Allison, a former college football player with a powerful build, was a center fielder in several seasons, whereas Altman, a college basketball player, was a tall, gangly guy who was really an out-of-position left fielder.  

            5.  A lot of you who remember Frank Howard will remember him as a left fielder; he slowed down, and played left field (badly) for the Senators of the late sixties.   But Howard actually was an All-American basketball player at Ohio State, and as a young player, he had a great arm.   Vic Power managed him one winter, and put him on the mound.   He was very effective, but the Dodgers called and told him to cut it out.  ’62 was Howard’s best year with the bat with the Dodgers; he had a couple of bad years after that, and didn’t re-emerge as a big slugger until several years later.   It looks odd that Allison’s 19-10 ranks ahead of Howard’s 19-8, but Allison’s 19 wins are actually 19.40, and his 10 losses are actually 9.52. 

            6.   Clemente didn’t have much of a year in ’62.   He hit .312, but half of the right fielders in ’62 hit .300, he hit only 10 homers and drew only 35 walks, ranking him in the bottom half of this group in on base percentage.   Look how similar his numbers are in ’62 to Chuck Hinton; that was Hinton’s only really good year.  And yeah, Clemente is still Clemente in the field—he ranks as the second-best defensive right fielder in the majors, behind Frank Robinson—but Hinton is 15-7 at bat, 3-4 in the field, Clemente is 13-9 at bat, 5-3 in the field.

            7.  Kaline was having one of his best seasons, but missed almost two months with an injury.  I think he punched a dugout wall after a strikeout or something.   He’d rank about fourth if he’d stayed in the lineup.

            8.  Lu Clinton, a native Kansan who is buried in Wichita, was a one-year wonder, or actually, a half-season wonder.   He had only 10 hits that year through June 30 (10 for 68, a .147 average), but then hit .375 with 6 homers, 21 RBI in July, .287 with 7 and 23 in August, and .315 with 1 and 15 in September.   For two months there, he was quite a player.

            9.  My actual reason for getting into this is Gino Cimoli.  Cimoli was the Kansas City A’s right fielder in 1962.   Sport Magazine rated the right fielders after the season, and they rated Cimoli the worst right fielder in the American League.    My brother, who wasn’t a big baseball fan and didn’t usually get into this stuff, was very offended by this rating, as Cimoli was one of the A’s best players, and we had been told all season by the KC radio announcers what a great defensive right fielder Cimoli was.  I picked this set of players, in part, because I am still curious about that ranking.

            It is a little hard to figure, in that several American League teams at that time didn’t really have right fielders.   The Orioles were playing a collection of guys in right field; Russ Snyder had a decent year, but he played as much in center and left as he did in right.   The White Sox right fielder, Mike Hershberger, was a rookie who threw very well but never really hit enough, the Angels were just playing whoever showed up that day in right field, and Willie Kirkland had a miserable year for the Indians. 

            But anyway, back to Cimoli.  Cimoli drove in 71 runs in ‘62, which was the most runs driven in by a Kansas City outfielder from 1960 to 1963.  He led the American League in triples, with 15, and he hit a respectable .275.   On the other hand, .275 and 10 homers are not All-Star indicators for a right fielder, and his defensive numbers are appalling.  In 147 games in the outfield he recorded only 231 putouts, one of the lowest range factors in the majors.   The A’s pitchers were low in strikeouts and very high in hits allowed, so you figure there are plays to be made—and there are lots of indications in Cimoli’s record that he must have been faster than most other right fielders.  He led the league in triples, as I mentioned, and actually his 15 triples that year were the most in the majors in five years.   Cimoli had come to the majors mostly as a pinch runner/defensive replacement, and had played primarily as a backup center fielder in the National League in ’60 and ’61.    It’s hard to explain why he wasn’t catching anything in the outfield in ’62, and this suggests that his effort on defense may not have been first-rate, which the local announcers would not have mentioned but the writers for Sport might have been turned off by.  

            10.   You probably mostly remember that in April, 1960, Frank Lane traded the reigning American League home run champion, Rocky Colavito, for the batting champion, Harvey Kuenn.    It’s an infamous trade, because Colavito was the most popular player Cleveland had had since Bob Feller or Lou Boudreau, and it took the Indians about 35 years to get their feet back under them.      

            What many of you probably don’t remember is that, less than eight months later, Lane traded Kuenn to San Francisco for Willie Kirkland.  Kirkland was a power hitter, only not nearly as good a power hitter as Colavito, so it was a lot of fun listening to Frank Lane explain the logic behind that one.   In the early 1950s Frank Lane had made a series of extremely good trades for the Chicago White Sox, which had earned him a reputation as a smart executive.  He spent the rest of his career bouncing from team to team in an effort to destroy the reputation.   A month after the Kirkland/Kuenn trade Frank Lane left the Indians and was hired by Kansas City A’s owner Charley Finley, who fired him a few months later, leading to one of Charley Finley’s many lawsuits.  Ah yes, the KC A’s, those were the days.   Last-place finishes, National League cast-off outfielders, publicity stunts and lawsuits, that’s what we had. 

 

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7.  The 1964 Third Basemen

 

          In 1964 both Most Valuable Players, Ken Boyer and Brooks Robinson, were third basemen.   There were several other top-quality third basemen around at that time—in fact, I have rated Boyer as actually the fourth-best third baseman in the National League in that season—so I thought I would take a look at that group. 

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	Avg	SPct	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	W Pct
1964	Phillies	Dick Allen	162	632	29	91	.318	.557	.382	.939	30	3	.913
1964	Cubs	Ron Santo	161	592	30	114	.312	.564	.398	.962	29	4	.890
1964	Orioles	Brooks Robinson	163	612	28	118	.317	.521	.368	.889	27	7	.798
1964	White Sox	Pete Ward	144	539	23	94	.282	.473	.348	.821	24	6	.793
1964	Giants	Jim Ray Hart	153	566	31	81	.286	.498	.342	.840	23	8	.744
1964	Cardinals	Ken Boyer	162	628	24	119	.295	.489	.365	.854	24	12	.673
1964	Colts	Bob Aspromonte	157	553	12	69	.280	.392	.329	.721	18	14	.557
1964	Braves	Eddie Mathews	141	502	23	74	.233	.412	.344	.756	17	12	.579
1964	Twins	Rich Rollins	148	596	12	68	.270	.406	.334	.740	17	15	.524
1964	Tigers	Don Wert	148	525	9	55	.257	.362	.325	.687	15	14	.523
1964	Pirates	Bob Bailey	143	530	11	51	.281	.404	.336	.740	16	15	.515
1964	Reds	Steve Boros	117	370	2	31	.257	.322	.342	.664	12	10	.545
1964	Red Sox	Frank Malzone	148	537	13	56	.264	.372	.312	.685	14	15	.479
1964	Indians	Max Alvis	107	381	18	53	.252	.446	.313	.760	11	10	.518
1964	Yankees	Clete Boyer	147	510	8	52	.218	.304	.269	.573	11	18	.385
1964	Dodgers	Jim Gilliam	116	334	2	27	.228	.287	.318	.605	8	12	.392
1964	A's	Ed Charles	150	557	16	63	.241	.379	.321	.700	11	20	.353
1964	Angels	Felix Torres	100	277	12	28	.231	.397	.266	.663	6	10	.374
1964	Mets	Charley Smith	127	443	20	58	.239	.402	.275	.676	9	17	.335
1964	Senators	John Kennedy	148	482	7	35	.230	.324	.280	.604	9	19	.311

 

Notes:

            1.  Dick Allen was a rookie.   One of the greatest rookie seasons of all time.

            2.  Jim Ray Hart was also a rookie, and would have been Rookie of the Year in most seasons.   The consensus is that Hart was a butcher at third base.   My method here doesn’t really show that, at least for 1964.   He made some errors (28—second in the majors behind Dick Allen, who made 41)—but his range numbers, in the context of the team, are really good, and I credit him with a defensive won-lost record, for the 1964 season, of 6-2.   Ken Boyer was better (7-2), but their hitting numbers are kind of the same, and Busch Stadium was a better place to hit than Candlestick Park, where Hart was playing. 

            3.  Steve Boros of the Reds ranks surprisingly well despite weak hitting numbers in a good hitting park.   Great defense (5-1), and a decent on base percentage.

            4.  OK, I think I finally understand something that I’ve never quite understood before.   Clete Boyer—Ken’s brother—ranks for 1964 as the best defensive third baseman in baseball, even better than Brooks Robinson, but his offensive contribution is scored at 6-17.   It’s really hard to live with that.

            What I think I finally understand is this:  that the collapse of the Yankee dynasty in 1965 is in large measure explained by the fact that Mickey Mantle was SO good, as a hitter, that he was covering up the faults of a lot of other players, which enabled the team to make excuses for them and keep them in the lineup.   Mantle would have a .400 on-base percentage, and .600 slugging.  It creates a lot of runs, and the Yankees had two other legitimately outstanding all-around players in the lineup, Maris and Elston Howard.

            In ’65 all three of those players (Mantle, Maris and Howard) had miserable seasons, and this exposed the flaws of the rest of the lineup.   Clete Boyer was a wonderful third baseman, but his offensive won-lost contribution in 1964 is 6-17.   That’s not good.  I don’t care who you are in the field, you can’t be hitting .218 with a .269 on base percentage—and the Yankees had several other players who weren’t much better.  Bobby Richardson had 728 plate appearances in 1964, and his on-base percentage was .294.  Yeah, his defense was good, but. . .that’s a lot of outs.

            Mickey Mantle was covering for these guys.   The Yankees could get by with talking about what a great defensive player Clete Boyer was and what a great second baseman little Bobby Richardson was because Mickey Mantle was putting SO many runs on the scoreboard that they could pretend that the other guys were pulling their own weight when they weren’t.  If you have a normal human being in center field, you can’t get by with that.

            What has always puzzled me about the collapse of the Yankees is that the outfielders they came up with after Mantle moved to first were really very good.   Setting aside Tom Tresh, who began so brilliantly but faded, and Joe Pepitone, who had the body of a center fielder but spent most of his career at first base, the Yankees in ’66 came up almost simultaneously with Roy White and Bobby Murcer.   Those guys were not bad ballplayers; in fact, they were damned good, in the tradition of guys like Tommy Henrich, Hank Bauer and Charlie Keller. 

            But the weakness of the rest of the lineup, exposed by the collapse of Mantle and Maris, put pressure on White and Murcer not merely to carry their own weight, but to cover for the .280 on base percentages in the infield.   White and Murcer—and later Bill Robinson, who was obtained in a trade for Clete Boyer—struggled in find their place in New York because they were expected not merely to be good players, but to be Mickey Mantle.   I understood that before from a publicity angle, but until now, I don’t think I quite got it from the standpoint of the performance of the team. 

            When Bobby Richardson retired in 1966 he was replaced by another player, Horace Clarke, who had exactly the same skills as Richardson except that he was a switch hitter and could run much better.   But whereas the New York press loved Richardson—because Mickey Mantle was covering up his failings—they hated Horace Clarke, because Clarke didn’t have Mickey Mantle to cover his behind. 

            It is fundamental to my understanding of the world that every strength is also a weakness, that every success is also a failure, that every benefit comes with a cost.   What I never quite saw before was the cost, to the Yankees, of Mickey’s Mantle’s greatness—not the cost as a consequence of Mantle, of course, but the cost as a consequence of not really understanding how good Mickey Mantle was.   Mickey Mantle was so good that he caused Roy White and Bobby Murcer and Horace Clarke to be disrespected.    That was an unfortunate price tag.

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8.  The Win Shares Methodology

Pitcher’s Hitting

 

          In a moment I will give Win Shares and Loss Shares for 1965 National League Pitchers, but before I do that I need to explain how we assign Win Shares for pitchers as hitters.   I explained in an earlier entry how we figured Win Shares for non-pitchers, as hitters, but that pitchers as hitters are carved out of the general run, for two reasons:

            1)  That, since pitchers are very poor hitters, pitchers as hitters would have to be assigned Won-Lost records like 0-3, 1-4, 0-6, etc.    This would move pitchers off-center as overall players, and, to compensate for that, we would have to re-center their pitching Wins and Losses to make them .500 players.   I don’t know how to do that and don’t want to get into it, so we evaluate pitchers, as hitters, by comparing them to other pitchers as hitters.

            2)  Zeroes.   Pitchers as hitters have lots of zeroes, which are a pain in the posterior when you’re multiplying and dividing Win Credits.

            Here’s what we do for pitchers.   First, we take each pitcher’s on base percentage, slugging percentage, and outs made.   These we state as a production ratio by:

 

            Slugging Percentage plus 2 * On Base Percentage

 

            In the National League in 1965 the pitchers as hitters had an on base percentage of .170, slugging percentage of .175, so the norm is .515 (.175 + 2 * .170). 

            Then we do the same for each pitcher.  Hall of Famer Jim Bunning in 1965 had an on base percentage of .221, a slugging percentage of .252, so that’s an individual figure, for him, of .694 (.252 + 2 * .221).  

            This we state as a Winning Percentage (or actually, Claiming Percentage) by the same formula we use for other hitters:  Player Divided by League, minus .20, divided by 1.60.    .694 divided by .515 is 1.348; Bunning was 35% better, as a hitter, than the average NL pitcher.   From this we subtract .20, and divide by 1.60.     1.348 minus .200 is 1.148, divided by 1.600, is .717.   Jim Bunning’s winning percentage as a hitter for 1965 is .717.

            We’re dodging those “zero Runs Created” and “-2 Runs Created” numbers that we would otherwise have to mess with by using an off-brand of OPS.  This gets rid of the zeroes in real cases, in that even the worst-hitting pitchers don’t have .000 on base percentages and slugging percentages for a full season’s work.   It is still possible to have a Winning Percentage, in this way, below zero or above 1.000.  As it happens, in the National League in 1965 there was one pitcher (20 or more starts) who had a Batter’s Winning Percentage below zero, and one who was above 1.000.  Ron Herbel had an on-base percentage of .040, a slugging percentage of .020, which makes a Winning Percentage of -.004.    Don Drysdale, on the other hand, hit .300 with 7 homers and 19 RBI, which gave him a Winning Percentage of 1.295.

            What we do is, we allow Drysdale’s “overage” as a hitter--his over-the-top performance as a hitter—to offset some of his losses as a pitcher.   Drysdale is credited with 7.10 “wins” as a hitter, while he is responsible for only 5.48 “decisions” as a hitter.  His Won-Lost record is 7+2, the plus sign replacing the normal “dash” or minus sign, to signify his over-the-top performance.   Seven wins, negative two losses.  Losses are themselves negative; a negative negative is a plus.     

            Of course, somehow we have to deal with players who are partially pitchers and partially hitters; there’s always somebody.   Brooks Kieschnick, or Hal Jeffcoat, or Willie Smith; there is always somebody around who is neither fish nor foul.   Sometimes outfielders pitch a couple of times, and occasionally you’ll have an outfielder who pitches 4 innings in a season.   We have to decide, then:  to what extent is this player a pitcher, and to what extent is he a regular hitter?

            We have a “position player percentage”, which is figured in this way.  For each three innings that a player pitches, we forgive him for one out as a hitter.   Don Drysdale in 1965 pitched 308 innings.   He thus would have 102.67 “allowed outs” as a hitter.  He actually made 99 outs, as a hitter.   Thus, all of his outs are “forgiven”, and he is 100% a pitcher—even though he pinch hit about 15 times that season.   Ron Herbel, same thing.   He pitched 171 innings, which means that he has 57 outs as a hitter.  He actually made 50 outs, as a hitter, so all of those are forgiven.    Both Drysdale and Herbel are classified as 100% pitchers.

            There is always somebody, however, who is partially a hitter and partially an outfielder.   Matty Alou, an outfielder, pitched two innings for the Giants.  He is thus some percentage pitcher, and some percentage hitter.  

            Pitching 2 innings gives him 2/3 of one out as a hitter.   Alou made 274 outs in 1965.  We thus assume that 273.33 of his outs were made as a hitter, and 0.67 of them were made as a pitcher.

            We could simply divide the 273.33 by 274, but actually that doesn’t work. . .don’t ask why.   It doesn’t.   What we have to do is, for the 2 innings he pitched, we now credit him with 6 outs.  He thus has 6 outs, as a pitcher, and 273.33 outs as a non-pitcher.  He is thus assumed to be 97.9% non-pitcher (273.33 divided by 279.33), and 2.1% pitcher (6 divided by 279.33).   We thus figure his offensive winning percentage as a pitcher, and his offensive winning percentage as a non-pitcher, and combine those two in this ratio.

            Bob Veale, on the other hand, pitched “only” 266 innings in 1965, but made 94 outs as a hitter (which wasn’t easy to do, since he had only 93 at bats.  It was hard work, but he managed it.  Somebody always does.)  Anyway, since he made 94 outs as a hitter and pitched only 266 innings, he had 5.33 more outs than he is allowed.   He thus has 5.33 outs as a non-pitcher—even though he was only a pitcher, he is still treated as some tiny percentage non-pitcher because he has more than used up his budget for outs.

            But he’s 99.3% pitcher, so as a practical matter.. . .he’s a pitcher.   It’s a lot of cells used up in our spreadsheet, and it only really matters when there is a pitcher/position player like Babe Ruth or Clint Hartung or one of the O’Brien twins, but we have to have a method in place to deal with it.   Don Drysdale’s pinch hitting plate appearances are just a bonus to him—which is very reasonable, since having a pitcher who can also be used as a productive pinch hitter is a bonus to his manager. 

            We lose park effects by doing this. ..we have park effects for each hitter when he is hitting as a hitter, but no park effects for a pitcher when he is hitting as a pitcher.  It’s not a meaningful problem, but no doubt somebody will figure out a way to include them, and create a better system.    

 

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9.  The 1965 National League Starting Pitchers

 

          Still looking for seasons where the concentration of talent at one position was unusual, I moved next to the 1965 National League, where the starting pitchers included six Hall of Famers—Koufax, Drysdale, Marichal, Jim Bunning, Bob Gibson and Gaylord Perry.  (Actually, seven, but Warren Spahn was no longer of Hall of Fame quality.)   How do we rank these pitchers?

            Here’s how I have them:

 

YEAR	Team	First	Last	W	L	IP	SO	BB	ERA	WS	LS	WPct
1965	Dodgers	Sandy	Koufax	26	8	336	382	71	2.04	37	9	.800
1965	Giants	Juan	Marichal	22	13	295	240	46	2.14	31	7	.826
1965	Cardinals	Bob	Gibson	20	12	299	270	103	3.07	32	11	.742
1965	Reds	Jim	Maloney	20	9	255	244	110	2.54	28	7	.807
1965	Dodgers	Don	Drysdale	23	12	308	210	66	2.78	28	11	.724
1965	Phillies	Jim	Bunning	19	9	291	268	62	2.60	28	10	.726
1965	Braves	Tony	Cloninger	24	11	279	211	119	3.29	24	13	.645
1965	Phillies	Chris	Short	18	11	297	237	89	2.82	24	14	.631
1965	Pirates	Vern	Law	17	9	217	101	35	2.16	20	5	.795
1965	Giants	Bob	Shaw	16	9	235	148	53	2.64	20	9	.699
1965	Pirates	Bob	Veale	17	12	266	276	119	2.84	22	14	.611
1965	Dodgers	Claude	Osteen	15	15	287	162	78	2.79	20	14	.582
1965	Reds	Sammy	Ellis	22	10	264	183	104	3.78	20	16	.561
1965	Pirates	Don	Cardwell	13	10	240	107	59	3.19	17	11	.610
1965	Braves	Wade	Blasingame	16	10	225	117	116	3.76	17	12	.588
1965	2 Teams	Ken	Johnson	16	10	231	151	48	3.42	16	13	.553
1965	Cardinals	Tracy	Stallard	11	8	194	99	70	3.39	15	11	.567
1965	Cubs	Larry	Jackson	14	21	257	131	57	3.85	16	16	.505
1965	Cubs	Dick	Ellsworth	14	15	222	130	57	3.81	14	14	.508
1965	Phillies	Ray	Culp	14	10	204	134	78	3.22	14	13	.519
1965	Mets	Jack	Fisher	8	24	254	116	68	3.93	15	16	.477
1965	Cubs	Cal	Koonce	7	9	173	88	52	3.69	11	10	.528
1965	Giants	Gaylord	Perry	8	12	195	170	70	4.19	13	14	.471
1965	Giants	Ron	Herbel	12	9	171	106	47	3.84	11	10	.510
1965	2 Teams	Warren	Spahn	7	16	198	90	56	4.01	12	14	.466
1965	Pirates	Bob	Friend	8	12	222	74	47	3.24	12	13	.470
1965	Astros	Turk	Farrell	11	11	208	122	35	3.50	12	14	.462
1965	Dodgers	Johnny	Podres	7	6	134	63	39	3.43	8	8	.496
1965	Cubs	Bob	Buhl	13	11	184	92	57	4.40	10	14	.419
1965	Mets	Al	Jackson	8	20	205	120	61	4.35	11	16	.402
1965	Cardinals	Curt	Simmons	9	15	203	96	54	4.08	10	15	.395
1965	Astros	Bob	Bruce	9	18	230	145	38	3.72	11	18	.377
1965	Reds	Joey	Jay	9	8	156	102	63	4.21	9	13	.397
1965	Braves	Denny	Lemaster	7	13	146	111	58	4.44	7	12	.376
1965	Cardinals	Ray	Sadecki	6	15	173	122	64	5.20	7	17	.303
1965	Reds	John	Tsitouris	6	9	131	91	65	4.95	5	15	.235
1965	Astros	Don	Nottebart	4	15	158	77	55	4.67	3	17	.127
1965	Reds	Jim	O'Toole	3	10	128	71	47	5.91	1	16	.047

 

            The top six pitchers in the league are five Hall of Famers and Jim Maloney, who was as good as the Hall of Famers, but didn’t last long enough to make the Hall.  

            Most pitchers, as you can see, have about the same Win Shares and Loss Shares as their actual won-lost record.   Tony Cloninger is 24-11 and 24-13, Ken Johnson is 16-10 and 16-13, Don Nottebart is 4-15 and 3-17, Ray Sadecki is 6-15 and 7-17, etc.; in most cases they match.   Why is it, then, that Sandy Koufax has 26 real wins but 37 Win Shares?

            Two reasons.   One is that if a pitcher is exceptional enough, it becomes difficult for the team’s performance to track with the player’s individual contribution.   A .600 pitcher pitching for a .500 team, he’ll get a winning percentage usually somewhere near .600.  An .800 pitcher, the rest of the team will drag him down some because the rest of the team can’ t play .800 ball.     

            The second reason is that we assign responsibility for Win Shares and Loss Shares based in part on the pitcher’s strikeouts, walks, and home runs allowed.   A pitcher who gets very few strikeouts, very few walks and keeps the ball in the park is, in a sense, turning over the outcome of the game to his fielders.   A pitcher like Koufax, who had 382 strikeouts, is taking over the game.   Koufax has much more influence over the outcome of the game, per inning pitched, than almost any other pitcher.   Thus, he is assigned responsibility, in our system, for more decisions.  

            Bob Friend of the Pirates pitched 222 innings in 1965; John Tsitouris of the Reds pitched only 131—yet Tsitouris had more strikeouts (91-74), more walks (65-47) and more home runs allowed (18-17) than did Friend.   It’s very difficult for your fielders to do much to help you if you issue 65 walks and give up 18 homers in 131 innings.   The average pitcher is held responsible for about one decision for every 9 innings pitched, but this figure is one decision for every 7.8 innings for Tsitouris (the highest in the league) and one for every 10.6 innings for Friend (the lowest in the league.   Friend and his longtime teammate Vern Law, both control pitchers at the end of their careers, were the only pitchers under one per ten.)   Tsitouris has a 4-13 record as a pitcher, plus 1-2 as a hitter; Friend is 12-9 as a pitcher, plus 0-4 as a hitter.   

            Koufax is 33-8 as a pitcher, plus 4-2 as a hitter.  Koufax was a famously bad hitter, but he had a decent year in ’65, getting 20 hits and 10 walks for a .242 on base percentage, far better than the pitcher’s norm.  

            We always think we have these things figured out, but then we learn something else and realize that what we thought we knew wasn’t really right.   The one I always think about is Koufax vs. Dick Ellsworth in 1963.   Koufax was the MVP in 1963 (25-5, 1.88 ERA), but Ellsworth was pretty good, too (22-10, 2.11 ERA.)   25-5 is better than 22-10 and 1.88 is better than 2.11, so Koufax’ numbers are better, so Koufax won the MVP and the Cy Young Award, the Cy Young vote being unanimous.

            But wait a minute.  Koufax had a 1.88 ERA pitching in Dodger Stadium, where the Dodgers allowed only 248 runs all year (Park Factor of 0.84), while Ellsworth had a 2.11 ERA pitching in Wrigley Field, Park Factor of 1.09.    Koufax had an ERA of 1.38 at home, but 2.31 on the road, whereas Ellsworth’s ERA was 2.37 at home, 1.77 on the road.   Who was really better?

            And also, Koufax was 25-5, but pitching for a team that was 74-58 with other pitchers.   Ellsworth was 22-10, but pitching for a team that was 60-70 with other pitchers.   Which is really better?   

            There are ways of analyzing the data that would show that Ellsworth was “really” better than Koufax in ’63, and, for a long time, that was what I thought.   I thought I was really smart; see, all those writers, they think Koufax was superman, but I know that the best pitcher in the NL in ’63 was really Dick Ellsworth.

            But then you learn more, and you realize you weren’t so smart after all.   Yes, Ellsworth pitched at a very high level in 1963, but Koufax pitched at a very high level every year.   Koufax record represents his real level of ability—or his real level of ability, helped by his park.   Ellsworth’s record represents a good deal of luck.  He had a lot of balls hit at people that year.   You can’t sustain that; it’s luck.

            Koufax struck out 306, walked only 58, gave up 18 home runs.   Ellsworth struck out 185, walked 75, and gave up only 14 home runs that year—but 34 the next.   So who is really better:  the guy who strikes out 185 and walks 75 and gets lucky, or the guy who strikes out 300 and walks 60 and will do the same thing again next year?

            Koufax vs. Marichal, same thing.  There are people who believe that Marichal was in fact better than Koufax.   Koufax pitched in Dodger Stadium; Marichal pitched in San Francisco, which was tougher for a pitcher.   If you adjust for that, who was really better?

            But Koufax was better.  I have Marichal here with a winning percentage of .826, Koufax with a winning percentage of .800—but Koufax was still better.   Koufax was still better because he was doing more to move his team away from .500 or .400 or .300, whatever margin you want to use.     

            It’s a difficult thing to wrap your mind around, I know, because we’re trained from a young age to think of “pitching innings” as “what the pitcher has done”.   If a pitcher pitches 250 innings with a 2.80 ERA, what’s the difference whether he strikes out 300 or 100?

            But there is a difference.  The pitcher who pitches 250 innings with 100 strikeouts, even if his ERA is the same, has not really DONE the same thing.   He has merely been credited by the statistics with doing the same thing.   His TEAM has gotten people out while he was on the mound.  

            Overstating the difference, Marichal’s team got people out while Marichal was on the mound.   Koufax got people out himself.   It’s not the same thing.   A pitcher like Koufax or Sam McDowell or Bob Veale deserves more blame when his teams fail—and more credit when they succeed.

            Don Drysdale was 21-12 as a pitcher in 1965, but 7+2 as a hitter, making him 28-11 overall.   The best-hitting pitcher in the league, other than Drysdale, was Bob Gibson, who was 27-11 as a pitcher, 5-0 as a hitter, thus 32-11, and the third-best hitter was Jim Maloney, who was 4-0 as a hitter, 28-7 as a package.   In a normal year any of these guys could have been the MVP.   Koufax was clearly the best pitcher, which blocked any other pitcher from serious MVP consideration, and Koufax had won the Award two years earlier, which made some people less inclined to vote for him, so the MVP went to Willie Mays.  He was pretty good, too.   

            The unluckiest pitcher of 1965 was Jack Fisher, who was shackled by the Mets with an 8-24 record although he was, in reality, nearly an average performer (15-16).  

            There were seven twenty-game winners in the league, all of whom had 20 or more Win Shares as well.  

 

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10.  The 1974 First Baseman

 

            I focused on the 1974 first basemen on the belief that they were a kind of counterpoint to the 1937 first basemen, a year when the quality of the first basemen was very poor.     Regular (or actually, most-regular. …meaning that somebody on this team has to be considered the regular first baseman). ..most-regular first basemen from 1974 include Gene Tenace (.211), Craig Kusick (.239 with 8 homers), John Mayberry (.234),  Bob Oliver (.248 with 8 homers), Ed Kirkpatrick (.247 with 6 homers), Dave Kingman (.223), Chris Chambliss (.255 with 6 homers), Mike Hargrove (4 homers), Cecil Cooper (8 homers) and Willie Montanez (7 homers).   Boog Powell was still playing first for Baltimore, but he was fat and fighting injuries, hit .265 with 12 homers.   Davey Johnson played first for Atlanta; he hit .251 with 15 homers.    Lee May for Houston drew 17 walks in 152 games, for a .294 on base percentage.  Willie McCovey played first for San Diego, but he was old and hit .253 with 22 homers, 63 RBI, and he was still one of the best first basemen in the majors.  Only two major league first basemen drove in 100 runs in 1974, and only one hit 30 home runs.  Several teams were actually playing part-time catchers as part-time first basemen.   Joe Torre, another ex-MVP, was still occupying first base for the Cardinals, and Hall of Famer Billy Williams was playing first for the Cubs, but they were nowhere near the players they had been three years earlier.    This is how I rank them:

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	AVG	SLG	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	WPct
1974	Dodgers	Steve Garvey	156	642	21	111	.312	.469	.342	.811	25	9	.747
1974	A's	Gene Tenace	158	484	26	73	.211	.411	.367	.778	21	10	.676
1974	White Sox	Dick Allen	128	462	32	88	.301	.563	.375	.938	19	6	.757
1974	Padres	Willie McCovey	128	344	22	63	.253	.506	.416	.922	17	2	.877
1974	Rangers	Mike Hargrove	131	415	4	66	.323	.424	.395	.819	16	5	.758
1974	Expos	Mike Jorgensen	131	287	11	59	.310	.488	.444	.931	15	2	.901
1974	Reds	Tony Perez	158	596	28	101	.265	.460	.331	.791	20	14	.587
1974	Tigers	Bill Freehan	130	445	18	60	.297	.479	.361	.840	15	8	.647
1974	Brewers	George Scott	158	604	17	82	.281	.432	.345	.777	19	16	.537
1974	Royals	John Mayberry	126	427	22	69	.234	.424	.358	.782	15	10	.602
1974	Cubs	Billy Williams	117	404	16	68	.280	.453	.382	.835	14	8	.635
1974	Braves	Davey Johnson	136	454	15	62	.251	.390	.358	.748	15	12	.562
1974	Cardinals	Joe Torre	147	529	11	70	.282	.401	.371	.772	16	14	.525
1974	Orioles	Boog Powell	110	344	12	45	.265	.413	.358	.771	13	8	.623
1974	Mets	John Milner	137	507	20	63	.252	.408	.337	.745	15	14	.523
1974	Phillies	Willie Montanez	143	527	7	79	.304	.410	.343	.753	15	14	.526
1974	Indians	John Ellis	128	477	10	64	.285	.421	.330	.751	14	12	.543
1974	Astros	Lee May	152	556	24	85	.268	.444	.294	.738	16	16	.490
1974	Red Sox	Cecil Cooper	121	414	8	43	.275	.396	.327	.724	11	11	.489
1974	Yankees	Chris Chambliss	127	467	6	50	.255	.349	.296	.645	12	15	.445
1974	Twins	Craig Kusick	76	201	8	26	.239	.403	.353	.756	7	5	.591
1974	Pirates	Ed Kirkpatrick	116	271	6	38	.247	.347	.367	.714	8	8	.509
1974	Giants	Dave Kingman	121	350	18	55	.223	.440	.302	.742	8	14	.357
1974	Angels	Bob Oliver	110	350	8	55	.248	.345	.277	.622	5	16	.245

 

 

            Obviously this group is far below the first basemen of 1937, and below most of the other groups that we have looked at here.   On the other hand, they’re not as bad as I thought they were when I picked this bunch.   One first baseman, Steve Garvey, was the National League MVP.   Dick Allen was having one of his good years, his last good year, and the part-time catcher, part-time first baseman thing is a two-sided sword.   The part-time catchers (Tenace, Freehan, John Ellis and Ed Kirkpatrick) were contributing more as defensive players than your average bear.   Bill Freehan hit .297 with some power—and he could go behind the mask when you needed him to, two or three games a week.   That’s not a guy you would mind having on your team.  

            Willie McCovey’s numbers were down, yes, but the man hit his 22 homers in just 344 at bats, plus he drew 96 walks, giving him an on-base percentage over .400, a slugging percentage over .500, in a park where runs were scarce.  In context, it’s still an impressive season.   Mike Jorgensen was playing first for the Expos, and “Mike Jorgensen” was not a name to strike fear into the hearts of opponents like “Willie Stargell” or “Eddie Murray”, but he was a defensive standout who had a really nice year with the bat, with a .444 on base percentage and 59 RBI in 287 at bats. 

            You may notice that we have Garvey at 25-9 here, whereas we had him at 26-9 in the same year when we were looking at the Dodger infielders.   This is due to the “Dwight Evans adjustment” I told you about earlier, where I robbed tiny pieces of wins from first basemen, catchers and shortstops to help out right fielders.   Garvey actually lost .07 Win Shares as a fielder in 1974 due to the adjustment, but that was enough to knock him down from 26-9 to 25-9 when we rounded it off.

            But most of these players, somehow, are over .500, and, as a group, they’re 100 Win Shares over .500.   This may indicate that I need to knock down the defensive evaluations of first basemen a little more, but on the other hand, these are the regulars; the regulars at any position in any season are going to tend to be over .500, whereas the bench players are going to be under .500.   This was a year in which there was a lot of playing time given to the bench players.   Only seven major league first basemen had 500 at bats—seven out of 24.  

           

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11.  1977 Third Basemen

 

            In 1964 there were a bunch of third basemen who had outstanding seasons.  In the 1970s there was a period when there were just a bunch of really, really good third basemen.   I chose 1977 to represent that period.    This is the group:

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	AVG	SLG	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	WPct
1977	Phillies	Mike Schmidt	154	544	38	101	.274	.574	.393	.967	29	3	.906
1977	Royals	George Brett	139	564	22	88	.312	.532	.373	.905	26	5	.835
1977	Yankees	Graig Nettles	158	589	37	107	.255	.496	.333	.829	23	11	.683
1977	Rangers	Toby Harrah	159	539	27	87	.263	.479	.393	.872	22	9	.713
1977	Reds	Pete Rose	162	655	9	64	.311	.432	.377	.809	23	11	.666
1977	Dodgers	Ron Cey	153	564	30	110	.241	.450	.347	.797	22	12	.651
1977	White Sox	Eric Soderholm	130	460	25	67	.280	.500	.350	.850	18	8	.682
1977	Orioles	Doug DeCinces	150	522	19	69	.259	.433	.339	.772	19	12	.601
1977	Mets	Lenny Randle	136	513	5	27	.304	.404	.383	.787	18	11	.622
1977	Cubs	Steve Ontiveros	156	546	10	68	.299	.423	.390	.813	17	13	.576
1977	Indians	Buddy Bell	129	479	11	64	.292	.426	.351	.777	16	10	.608
1977	Pirates	Phil Garner	153	585	17	77	.260	.441	.325	.766	18	15	.548
1977	Astros	Enos Cabell	150	625	16	68	.282	.438	.313	.751	18	17	.525
1977	Brewers	Sal Bando	159	580	17	82	.250	.395	.336	.731	17	15	.529
1977	Angels	Dave Chalk	149	519	3	45	.277	.355	.345	.700	15	15	.497
1977	Blue Jays	Roy Howell	96	364	10	44	.316	.451	.386	.837	11	8	.594
1977	A's	Wayne Gross	146	485	22	63	.233	.416	.352	.769	14	14	.495
1977	Giants	Bill Madlock	140	533	12	46	.302	.426	.360	.785	14	16	.469
1977	Twins	Mike Cubbage	129	417	9	55	.264	.391	.321	.712	12	12	.509
1977	Red Sox	Butch Hobson	159	593	30	112	.265	.489	.300	.789	16	20	.439
1977	Cardinals	Ken Reitz	157	587	17	79	.261	.412	.291	.703	15	19	.431
1977	2 Teams	Doug Rader	148	483	18	67	.251	.437	.348	.785	12	14	.460
1977	Expos	Larry Parrish	123	402	11	46	.246	.386	.314	.699	10	13	.418
1977	Mariners	Bill Stein	151	556	13	67	.259	.394	.299	.693	12	19	.374
1977	Tigers	Aurelio Rodriguez	96	306	10	32	.219	.369	.257	.626	7	11	.409
1977	Braves	Jerry Royster	140	445	6	28	.216	.288	.278	.566	4	21	.162

 

            Notes:

            1)  Schmidt and Brett, Schmidt and Brett.   I wonder how many years they were the one and two third basemen in the major leagues?  Several.

            2)  What do we make of the fact that Pete Rose’ winning percentage was the devil’s number?

            3)  Buddy Bell is a player like Dwight Evans that we don’t think of as a Hall of Famer, but who probably meets objective criteria for the Hall of Fame such as 300 career Win Shares and +100 wins over losses.   Those are my criteria, but I’m just saying. . .any objective quality markers for the Hall of Fame, there’s a good chance Buddy Bell is over them.  

            4)  Enos Cabell, never my favorite player, rates pretty well here.   It was his best year.  He had 56 extra base hits (33-7-16) and stole 42 bases, so he was in scoring position under his own power almost 100 times.   His .313 on base percentage still wasn’t great, but the other elements of his game that year were pretty good.

            5)  The Bay Area third basemen in 1977 were Bill Madlock, who won several batting titles but hit only .302 in ’77, and Wayne Gross, whose 1977 numbers were similar to McCovey in ’74—22 homers, 63 RBI, .233 average but a good on-base percentage because he drew 86 walks.  

            Gross hitting .233 was a better player than Madlock hitting .300, but Gross had his issues, too.  We have him as the worst defensive third baseman of 1977, with a defensive won-lost contribution of 1-6.    Gross’ walks would carry his bat, but his defense sunk his career.

            Madlock was never really a great player.  He bounced from team to team, hitting

.300 everywhere and .330 sometimes, but. . .he needed to.  If he’d been a .275 hitter, he wouldn’t have played.

            6)  Butch Hobson’s 43-error season was 1978, not 1977.   In ’77 he was 5-4 as a fielder, but 11-16 as a hitter, despite hitting 30 homers and driving in 112.   His strikeout/walk ratio was six to one.

            7)  Aurelio Rodriguez was the Clete Boyer of 1977—4 and 0 as a fielder, but 3 and 10 as a hitter.

            8)  I always liked Royster, and he had better years, but in ’77 he was horrible at bat and horrible in the field. 

 

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12.  The Shortstops of 1984

 

            I was looking for a year that had really good shortstops, and I hit on 1984 because of Ripken, Trammell, Robin Yount and Ozzie Smith.   These are the 1984 shortstops, as I would now rate them:

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	Avg	SPct	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	WPCT
1984	Orioles	Cal Ripken	162	641	27	86	.304	.510	.374	.884	32	3	.917
1984	Tigers	Alan Trammell	139	555	14	69	.314	.468	.382	.851	24	5	.821
1984	Brewers	Robin Yount	160	624	16	80	.298	.441	.362	.803	24	10	.700
1984	Cardinals	Ozzie Smith	124	412	1	44	.257	.337	.347	.684	17	8	.674
1984	Astros	Craig Reynolds	146	527	6	60	.260	.364	.286	.651	17	14	.560
1984	A's	Tony Phillips	154	451	4	37	.266	.359	.325	.685	14	12	.530
1984	Indians	Julio Franco	160	658	3	79	.286	.348	.331	.679	17	20	.456
1984	Dodgers	Dave Anderson	121	374	3	34	.251	.329	.331	.660	12	10	.546
1984	White Sox	Scott Fletcher	149	456	3	35	.250	.311	.328	.640	14	13	.511
1984	Padres	Garry Templeton	148	493	2	35	.258	.320	.312	.633	13	15	.474
1984	Mariners	Spike Owen	152	530	3	43	.245	.326	.308	.635	14	16	.460
1984	Royals	Onix Concepcion	90	287	1	23	.282	.338	.319	.657	10	7	.572
1984	Pirates	Dale Berra	136	450	9	52	.222	.318	.273	.591	11	17	.392
1984	Yankees	Bobby Meacham	99	360	2	25	.253	.328	.312	.640	9	13	.408
1984	Phillies	Ivan DeJesus	144	435	0	35	.257	.306	.325	.631	10	16	.371
1984	Cubs	Larry Bowa	133	391	0	17	.223	.269	.274	.542	9	15	.375
1984	Angels	Dick Schofield	140	400	4	21	.192	.262	.264	.527	9	16	.370
1984	Reds	Dave Concepcion	154	531	4	58	.245	.320	.307	.628	11	20	.355
1984	Braves	Rafael Ramirez	145	591	2	48	.266	.327	.295	.621	11	23	.336
1984	Mets	Jose Oquendo	81	189	0	10	.222	.249	.284	.532	5	7	.403
1984	Expos	Derrel Thomas	122	272	0	22	.243	.309	.299	.607	6	11	.340
1984	BlueJays	Alfredo Griffin	140	419	4	30	.241	.298	.248	.546	8	18	.301
1984	Giants	Johnnie LeMaster	132	451	4	32	.217	.282	.265	.547	7	20	.262
1984	Twins	Houston Jimenez	108	298	0	19	.201	.245	.238	.483	4	15	.211
1984	Rangers	Curtis Wilkerson	153	484	1	26	.248	.279	.282	.561	7	22	.241
1984	Red Sox	Jackie Gutierrez	151	449	2	29	.263	.316	.284	.600	5	22	.195

 

            I say “as I would rate them now”. . .I am sure I must also have rated them at the time.  But I never look at or think about my old books, so I don’t have any idea how I rated them at the time.

It’s immediately apparent, having done all the work, that I picked a really lousy year to look for shortstops.   Yeah, Ripken, Yount, Trammell and Ozzie were great, but the fifth best shortstop in the majors was. . .Craig Reynolds? 

            It’s not only not a great year for shortstops, it’s a lousy year for shortstops.   Jackie Gutierrez of the Red Sox was one of the worst players ever to play 150 games in a season, with an offensive won-lost contribution of 5-16, and a defensive contribution of 1-6.   Several of the shortstops in the majors were just short-term regulars, failed regulars (Curtis Wilkerson, Houston Jimenez, Bobby Meacham, Onix Concepcion, Dave Anderson, Jose Oquendo.)    Derrel Thomas and Scott Fletcher were utility players playing short.  Concepcion and Bowa had been good but they were old.   Schofield, Spike Owen and Alfredo Griffin didn’t hit, Rafael Ramirez was a errors machine and Johnnie LeMaster didn’t hit and was an errors machine.    Tony Phillips and Julio Franco were wonderful players but neither one of them was a true shortstop.

            It’s hard to hold something like “the overall quality of 26 major league shortstops” in your head, and make a judgment about it.    But I was trying to find a good shortstop group, and this certainly isn’t it.  Ripken, Trammell and Yount had OPS over .800, but nobody else was over .685.   Eight regulars were under .600.

            The best defensive shortstop in the majors, obviously, was Ozzie at 7-0.   The worst was Gutierrez. 

 

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13.  The 1993 Catchers

 

            I was looking for a year with really good catchers, and I chose 1993.  Here’s how I rate them:

 

YEAR	Team	Player	G	AB	HR	RBI	Avg	SPct	OBA	OPS	WS	LS	WPCT
1993	Dodgers	Mike Piazza	149	547	35	112	.318	.561	.370	.932	24	4	.849
1993	Orioles	Chris Hoiles	126	419	29	82	.310	.585	.416	1.001	21	2	.924
1993	Cubs	Rick Wilkins	136	446	30	73	.303	.561	.376	.937	21	3	.892
1993	Phillies	Darren Daulton	147	510	24	105	.257	.482	.392	.875	22	6	.786
1993	Yankees	Mike Stanley	130	423	26	84	.305	.534	.389	.923	18	4	.817
1993	Royals	Mike Macfarlane	117	388	20	67	.273	.497	.360	.857	15	7	.672
1993	Tigers	Chad Kreuter	119	374	15	51	.286	.484	.371	.855	14	6	.709
1993	Giants	Kirt Manwaring	130	432	5	49	.275	.350	.345	.695	14	10	.594
1993	Mariners	Dave Valle	135	423	13	63	.258	.395	.354	.748	14	11	.563
1993	Twins	Brian Harper	147	530	12	73	.304	.425	.347	.772	14	14	.515
1993	Rangers	Ivan Rodriguez	137	473	10	66	.273	.412	.315	.727	14	14	.506
1993	White Sox	Ron Karkovice	128	403	20	54	.228	.424	.287	.712	13	12	.514
1993	Pirates	Don Slaught	116	377	10	55	.300	.440	.356	.796	11	10	.538
1993	Braves	Damon Berryhill	115	335	8	43	.245	.382	.291	.673	10	10	.496
1993	A's	Terry Steinbach	104	389	10	43	.285	.416	.333	.749	10	11	.484
1993	Expos	Darrin Fletcher	133	396	9	60	.255	.379	.320	.699	10	12	.450
1993	Cardinals	Tom Pagnozzi	92	330	7	41	.258	.373	.296	.669	9	11	.447
1993	Astros	Eddie Taubensee	94	288	9	42	.250	.389	.299	.688	8	9	.465
1993	Rockies	Joe Girardi	86	310	3	31	.290	.397	.346	.743	7	10	.427
1993	Marlins	Benito Santiago	139	469	13	50	.230	.380	.291	.671	10	17	.377
1993	Brewers	Dave Nilsson	100	296	7	40	.257	.375	.336	.711	7	11	.398
1993	BlueJays	Pat Borders	138	488	9	55	.254	.371	.285	.656	10	18	.354
1993	Reds	Joe Oliver	139	482	14	75	.239	.384	.276	.659	9	18	.339
1993	Angels	Greg Myers	108	290	7	40	.255	.362	.298	.660	6	11	.357
1993	Mets	Todd Hundley	130	417	11	53	.228	.357	.269	.626	7	17	.293
1993	Indians	Junior Ortiz	95	249	0	20	.221	.273	.267	.540	4	11	.270
1993	Padres	Kevin Higgins	71	181	0	13	.221	.294	.254	.548	3	8	.247
1993	Red Sox	Tony Pena	126	304	4	19	.181	.257	.246	.502	5	15	.247

 

            Notes:

            1)  Piazza’s defense in 1993 looks decent to me.   Piazza’s defense will always be controversial in our community.  His stolen base data was never great, but he threw out 59 base burglars that year (108 stolen bases allowed), so that wasn’t really hurting the team.   The Dodger pitchers were way over the league in strikeouts, and their ERA was good.    You have to consider those things when you evaluate a catcher. 

            2)  Chris Hoiles and Rick Wilkins were up and down guys who didn’t get a lot of love from the media, but they both had good years, and they had good years in 1993 all around.   Hoiles threw out 46 of 113 base stealers, which is quite good, had a good fielding percentage and was charged with only two passed balls.   Wilkins threw out 56 of 122 base stealers, which is outstanding, and fielded .996.  They both worked for teams that had decent years, and decent years from their pitching staffs.  They’re not just being rated high because they hit well; they played well. 

            3)  In the MVP voting the top catchers were Darren Daulton, 7^th in the NL voting (Piazza was 9^th), and Mike Stanley, 14^th in the American League voting.  Daulton was a fine player and Mike Stanley was a good hitter, but Hoiles and Piazza had better all-around seasons.

            4)  Pudge was 5-1 as a fielder but 9-12 as a hitter.   Ron Karkovice was 6-0 as a fielder but 7-12 at bat.  Tony Pena was 4-0 as a fielder, but 1-15 as a hitter.  

            5)  The Gold Gloves in ’93 went to Rodriguez and Manwaring.  We have Manwaring at 9-10 as a hitter, 6-0 as a fielder.   A good player.

 

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14.  The 1998 Closers

 

          And finally, the relief aces.   I chose 1998 as a year that looked like it had a lot of closers having good years.  

            I believe I mentioned here that I had changed the “leverage index” that assigns extra weight to relief aces based on their Save totals.   When I published year-by-year Win Shares and Loss Shares for Mariano Rivera about a year ago, some people felt that the credit he was being given for runs saved was too low, not only for a pitcher pitching leveraged innings but even for a pitcher pitching un-leveraged innings.

            That’s not quite right; the credit being given to Rivera for runs saved was actually higher than for any other Yankee pitcher.   The misunderstanding comes about in this way:  that the Win Shares system divides credit for defensive performance between pitchers and fielders.    Let’s assume that the league ERA is 4.50 and that a pitcher pitches 180 innings with a 3.00 ERA.   It appears that the pitcher has saved his team about 30 runs—1.50 times 20—but actually this is not true.    The pitcher and his defense have saved the team about 30 runs.    Some of the credit has to go to the fielders.  The people who thought that Rivera’s wins-to-runs-saved ratio was too low even for un-leveraged innings were assuming that all runs saved should be credited to the pitcher.  I don’t believe this is true.

            However, due to technical issues involving the interaction of numerous formulas, the “extra benefit” that I was giving Rivera for pitching in Save situations was lower than I had intended, and I did make two changes to the system to correct this.   Since I have not yet explained the pitching system itself, it is not appropriate here to explain the changes; I’ll just explain them as a part of the system.  

            These are the closers of 1998, as I see them:

 

YEAR	Team	First	Last	W	L	SAVES	G	IP	SO	BB	ERA	WS	LS	W Pct
1998	Padres	Trevor	Hoffman	4	2	53	66	73	86	21	1.48	20	1	.961
1998	Expos	Ugueth	Urbina	6	3	34	64	69	94	33	1.30	18	0	.989
1998	Rangers	John	Wetteland	3	1	42	63	62	72	14	2.03	18	1	.958
1998	Giants	Robb	Nen	7	7	40	78	89	110	25	1.52	18	3	.877
1998	Indians	Michael	Jackson	1	1	40	69	64	55	13	1.55	17	+1	1.038
1998	Red Sox	Tom	Gordon	7	4	46	73	79	78	25	2.72	16	3	.851
1998	2 Teams	Jeff	Shaw	3	8	48	73	85	55	19	2.12	16	4	.792
1998	Yankees	Mariano	Rivera	3	0	36	54	61	36	17	1.91	13	0	.991
1998	Cubs	Rod	Beck	3	4	51	81	80	81	20	3.02	16	7	.693
1998	Astros	Billy	Wagner	4	3	30	58	60	97	25	2.70	13	4	.775
1998	Braves	Kerry	Ligtenberg	3	2	30	75	73	79	24	2.71	13	3	.792
1998	Cardinals	Juan	Acevedo	8	3	15	50	98	56	29	2.56	12	2	.825
1998	Phillies	Mark	Leiter	7	5	23	69	89	84	47	3.55	13	5	.719
1998	Diamondbacks	Gregg	Olson	3	4	30	64	69	55	25	3.01	12	4	.759
1998	Mariners	Mike	Timlin	3	3	19	70	79	60	16	2.95	10	3	.785
1998	Rockies	Jerry	Dipoto	3	4	19	68	71	49	25	3.53	10	3	.777
1998	Angels	Troy	Percival	2	7	42	67	67	87	37	3.65	12	8	.596
1998	Devil Rays	Roberto	Hernandez	2	6	26	67	71	55	41	4.04	10	5	.663
1998	Whitesox	Bill	Simas	4	3	18	60	71	56	22	3.57	10	4	.711
1998	Orioles	Armando	Benitez	5	6	22	71	68	87	39	3.82	11	6	.625
1998	Twins	Rick	Aguilera	4	9	38	68	74	57	15	4.24	10	7	.595
1998	Brewers	Bob	Wickman	6	9	25	72	82	71	39	3.72	10	6	.601
1998	Dodgers	Scott	Radinsky	6	6	13	62	62	45	20	2.63	7	3	.724
1998	A's	Billy	Taylor	4	9	33	70	73	58	22	3.58	9	8	.539
1998	Marlins	Matt	Mantei	3	4	9	42	55	63	23	2.96	7	3	.711
1998	Royals	Jeff	Montgomery	2	5	36	56	56	54	22	4.98	9	8	.519
1998	Mets	John	Franco	0	8	38	61	65	59	29	3.62	9	8	.507
1998	Pirates	Rich	Loiselle	2	7	19	54	55	48	36	3.44	7	5	.592
1998	Tigers	Todd	Jones	1	4	28	65	63	57	36	4.97	8	8	.488
1998	2 Teams	Randy	Myers	4	7	21	62	57	41	26	4.92	7	6	.518

 

            1)  These rankings include credit for the player’s performance as hitters, although those credits in all cases are very small.  

            2)  Closers challenge our assumption that the players at every position must be .500 players.  Obviously the typical closer is not a .500 pitcher.   Teams shift pitchers around, on their pitching staff, to get one of their most effective pitchers deployed in this crucial role.  

            But wait a minute.  Do not teams shift players around at fielding positions, to get the best talent deployed most effectively?  How do we really know that, at the end of that process, the players deployed at first base are no better than the players deployed at shortstop or second base?  

            I think we really don’t know.   It’s an assumption.   There should be some way to study it by modeling the options. 

            3)  This is a good group.  The major league ERA in 1998 was 4.43.   Seven of these pitchers had ERAs less than half of that, five of those with ERAs under 2.00. 

            4)  Who exactly was Bill Simas?