The 2008 Baseball Hall of Fame Ballot -- A Roundtable Discussion
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by Dan Lewis
Like many baseball fans, I enjoy discussing and debating the merits of candidates up for Hall of Fame enshrinement. Often, though, I base my opinions on those already written by some of our colleagues in sports media. So instead of re-hashing their analysis, I did one better: I asked them to write it themselves.
Specifically, I gathered five people together -- David Pinto, Dayn Perry, Dan McLaughlin, Matt Sussman, and Rich Lederer -- and asked them to pick one guy to enshrine and one guy to leave out, and write an essay for each. For Sussman, I suggested two players, to provide a natural counterpoint; the other four selected their guys on their own.
I'd like to thank our five guests for agreeing to do this -- and they did an excellent job. But after reading the below, that will be obvious. I'll let their words speak for themselves.
Rich Lederer
Rich Lederer runs Baseball Analysts
In: Bert Blyleven
The Hall of Fame case for Bert Blyleven is not complicated at all. In fact, it is simple and straightforward. Since 1900, Bert Blyleven ranks 5th in career strikeouts (3701), 8th in shutouts (60), and 17th in wins (287).
Blyleven's qualifications are obvious and compelling. One would have to ignore the facts to come up with reasons not to vote for him. To be honest, there really isn't much to debate here unless someone wants to point to all the nonsense I have refuted time and again in the past.
Blyleven has been scrutinized more closely than perhaps any other candidate in the history of the HOF voting. In fact, I would argue that he has been held to a different set of standards than most of the rest.
If Blyleven won a baker's dozen more games, he would have been a no brainer. Yes, 13 more wins and even those who now don't support Bert would have voted him in a long, long time ago. The funny thing is, there is no shame in having won 287 games, which ranks 17th among all pitchers over the past 100-plus years. I mean, there have been 60 pitchers from the ranks of MLB who have been enshrined in Cooperstown. SIXTY! Yet there is no place in upstate New York for a guy who ranks in the top ten in strikeouts and shutouts and in the top 25 in wins (including pre-1900).
The whole thing is pretty silly. He has a lot of support from what Rob Neyer calls the "reality-based community." David Gassko, the author of The Most Valuable Pitchers of All Time in The Hardball Times Baseball Annual in 2007, ranked Blyleven sixth. Now even I wouldn't rate Blyleven THAT high, but Gassko used a metric called Pitching Wins Above Replacement and determined that the more than 20-year veteran provided the sixth most value of any pitcher over his career. Now even David wouldn't claim that his work is the definitive word on the subject, but is it possible that a pitcher could rank sixth in an objective, stat-based system and yet not be among the top sixty best pitchers ever?
Eight of Blyleven's ten most comparable pitchers according to Bill James' Similarity Scores are in the Hall of Fame. Here is how Bert compares to those eight pitchers (Don Sutton, Gaylord Perry, Ferguson Jenkins, Robin Roberts, Tom Seaver, Early Wynn, Phil Niekro, and Steve Carlton):
| IP | H | ER | BB | SO | HR | ERA | ERA+ | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Blyleven | 4970 | 4632 | 1830 | 1322 | 3701 | 430 | 3.31 | 118 |
| Group Average | 4974 | 4541 | 1800 | 1429 | 3263 | 434 | 3.26 | 115 |
Blyleven's counting stats and ERA/ERA+ are almost identical to the average of these eight pitchers across the board. However, his rate stats for the three areas most controlled by the pitcher are slightly better than this exclusive group.
| BB/9 | SO/9 | HR/9 | |
|---|---|---|---|
| Blyleven | 2.39 | 6.70 | 0.78 |
| Group Average | 2.59 | 5.90 | 0.79 |
Still not convinced? Blyleven threw a no-hitter and five one-hitters. He won 15 games by a 1-0 score -- third on the all-time list behind Walter Johnson and Christy Mathewson.
Blyleven is tied for seventh all-time in the number of 200-strikeout seasons. The only pitchers with more 200-K campaigns are Nolan Ryan, Randy Johnson, Roger Clemens, Seaver, Gibson, and Pedro Martinez. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can hear the argument now. Eight seasons of 200 or more whiffs just means Blyleven had a very good and long career but he didn't have the peak that great pitchers are known to have. Wrong again, Mr. Doubting Thomas. Bert is tied for fourth all-time in the number of consecutive seasons with 200 or more Ks. The three above him? Seaver, Clemens, and Walter Johnson.
Although Blyleven didn't win a Cy Young Award during his 22-year career, a pretty strong case could be made on his behalf in 1973, 1977, 1984, and 1985. In 1973, for example, Blyleven won 20 games, finished second in the league in ERA and strikeouts, and fourth in innings pitched but appeared on only one of the 24 Cy Young ballots. Did I mention that the then 23-year-old led the AL in K/BB (3.85), SHO (9), and ERA+ (158), and couldn't muster more than one third-place vote?
Blyleven may have been the best starting pitcher in the AL in 1984 - leading the league in RSAA (40) while placing second in W (19), WHIP (1.13), and ERA+ (142) despite playing for a ball club with a 75-87 record that ended up sixth in a seven-team division - but finished third in the CYA balloting behind two relievers. I could go on and on, year-by-year - and, in fact, have right here.
Strikeouts, shutouts, wins . . . unlike Cy Young rankings, they are not subject to opinions. The facts speak for themselves. His poor showing in Cy Young votings says more about the voters than Blyleven. And, for the most part, the writers who voted for these awards are now the ones who are once again slighting Blyleven in the voting for the Hall of Fame. It's nonsensical. There was a disconnect between Bert's achievements and the recognition he received. It's time to correct that.
There is no doubt about it. That is a Hall of Fame resume. He isn't just a Hall of Famer. As HOF voter Joe Posnanski told me, "He's an absolute, slam-dunk, first-ballot guy. It's absurd." Anyone who still needs more convincing should go see a shrink.
Out: Jack Morris
The fact that Jack Morris pitched for three different World Series championship teams is a big plus for him in the minds of many voters. He was instrumental in Detroit and Minnesota when these teams won it all in 1984 and 1991, respectively, but Toronto won in spite of him in 1992 when he went 0-2 with an 8.44 ERA.
Add it all up and Morris was 7-4 with a 3.80 ERA in seven postseason series, 4-2 with a 2.96 ERA in three World Series. By comparison, Blyleven pitched on two World Series Championship teams, compiling a 5-1 record and a 2.47 ERA in five postseason series and was 2-1 with a 2.35 ERA in two World Series. And yet Morris is the one people remember as the big game pitcher? I don't want to demean his Game 7 complete game shutout over the Atlanta Braves to capture the 1991 World Series. That was huge. But he comes up well short of Blyleven by almost any rational measure.
Take neutral wins. If Morris and Blyleven both had league average run support, Jack would have won 22 fewer games and Bert would have won 26 more games. Yes, Morris' overall record would have been 232-208 (.527) while Blyleven would have been 313-224 (.583).
Morris had an ERA of 3.90. If elected, his ERA would rank dead last. I might be able to overcome that if his ballpark-adjusted ERA (or ERA+) painted a different picture. But it doesn't. Morris' ERA+ was 105. That means he was 5% better than league average. Blyleven's ERA+ was 118 or 18% above league average. Morris never had a single season higher than 133. Blyleven had six seasons in which his ERA+ was better than 133.
There really is no comparison. Blyleven had a (much) better ERA and ERA+ than Morris. Blyleven had (a lot) more strikeouts, shutouts, and wins than Morris. Blyleven is a clear-cut Hall of Famer. Morris was a good pitcher but is not a Hall of Famer. If Morris is, he'll have to wait in line behind Blyleven.
Matt Sussman
Matt Sussman writes for Deadspin (on weekends), BC Sports, and The Futon Report. I asked him to write the contrapositive to Rich's take, which is why his are in reverse order.
Out: Bert Blyleven
Bert Blyleven should not be in the Hall of Fame. Case closed.
All right, actually I don't feel that strongly about it. Heck, I'm not sure if I agree with it. But amidst all the love for Blyleven and their cases to put him in the fame-filled Hall, few arguments have been constructed against the man. Wait, did I say few? I meant none.
If one has been penned, it was either in some curious little daily newspaper who had never heard of the Internet. But in Blyleven's first season on the ballot, he gathered less than one-fifth of the voters' hearts. And last year he still had less than 50 percent support. So several veteran baseball writers do in fact have an inner argument as to why Blyleven is not a Hall of Fame pitcher, and they have enough respect not to make that argument public.*
I have been accused of many things, but never of being respectful. So let's lay out the argument for why Blyleven isn't Cooperstown material:
- He's been named to the All-Star twice. Twice. In 21 full seasons. That's fewer than Eric Gagne. One of those appearances, in '85, might have been because somebody had to go for the Cleveland Indians. His record was 7-8 at the All-Star break.
- He never won a Cy Young, which is fine, as several pitchers were voted in with out one. But Blyleven received Cy Young votes in only four years.
- The most puzzling study of Blyleven's numbers is that you'd imagine he would lead his league in multiple categories multiple times, and that just wasn't the case. He was known for having several complete games, but he only led that once. He has one strikeout title, no ERA titles and lead the league in WHIP once.
- Blyleven's trades from Minnesota to Texas, from Pittsburgh to Cleveland, and from Cleveland back to Minnesota -- all stemmed from him public kvetching. He wanted to leave Minnesota, then years later he wanted to return. "sportsmanship and character" as criteria, so this has to factor in somehow.
- Even if Blyleven is considered the best pitcher not in the Hall of Fame, that doesn't inherently mean he should be eligible. Somebody has to be the best pitcher not in the Hall of Fame.
All right. How about that? Five bullet points. They may each be of varying quality, and the arguments for him might outweigh them, but there's your anti-argument. Half the veteran writers out there seem to subscribe to it.
* - Okay, once I was done with this, I suddenly recalled a debate on ESPN's Outside The Lines where Blyleven debated some baseball writer who didn't vote for him, but I couldn't tell you who or when, because it was quite a while ago and my attention span rarely lasts multiple paragraphs. But that's at least one public argument against him. So I'm not the first person to go publicly anti-Blyleven and therefore am not a trendsetter.
In: Jack Morris
One would think that Jack Morris, owner of three different-colored World Series rings and one World Series MVP trophy, would already have the beginnings of a dust empire on his Hall of Fame plaque. Once you realize he isn't in the Hall, you you look at the numbers and ... oof. They're not so pretty.
The stats show a disproportionate number of walks and wild pitches, and then there's that career ERA. 3.90? Seriously? Pete Harnisch has a better career ERA than Jack Morris? Based on those stats, Morris is not a Hall of Famer.
Fortunately for Morris, something else factors into a fan's -- nay, more importantly, a baseball voter's -- mind beyond statistics: moments.
His towering pillar of awesome happened in Game 7 of the 1991 World Series. After starting Game 1 and 4 for the Minnesota Twins, he took the mound for the deciding game against the Atlanta Braves and pitched nine shutout innings. Problem was, so did John Smoltz. So Morris pitched a perfect 10th to allow his Twins the chance to score that one run to win the championship, and they did. History, mark it down. Were Dane Cook famous that year, he would have had a TOTALLY INTENSE COMMERCIAL ABOUT IT.
His other World Series dominance happened way back in 1984 with the Detroit Tigers, where he pitched two complete game wins as the Tigers wrapped up the series handily against the Padres in five games. He also won a ring with the Toronto Blue Jays in 1992, even though he went 0-2 with an 8.44 ERA in that series. Ick. He probably should've just retired after the '91 Series, because you can't top a 10-inning Game 7 shutout. But no, he had to go and post another 20-game season and start another All-Star Game. What a selfish bastard.
Lining up all his numbers in a row, you see he won just 254 games. Just. (Although I vaguely recall saying 287-game winner Bert Blyleven shouldn't be in the Hall of Fame. To which I say LALALALALALA NOT LISTENING.) But perhaps his most astounding statistic that supports his entire body of work is his 14 straight seasons in which he started Opening Day, which is an MLB record. What that means is that the 254 wins game against predominantly other ace pitchers. Were he a career No. 2 pitcher, he might've won 300.
So the stats are there. I'd go as far as to call them über-decent for a Hall of Famer. But it's the memories he created for fans of the Tigers, Twins, and Blue Jays that puts him over the top. Coupled with the fact that his team beat the Atlanta Braves twice -- in consecutive seasons -- the entire NL East should be rooting for his enshrinement.
Yes, the walks look bad. Over two-and-a-half batters reached base each game by not swinging. But in his three starts in the 1991 World Series, he walked nine batters.
Dan McLaughlin
Dan McLaughlin runs Baseball Crank
In: Goose Gossage
The Hall of Fame's voters, both the BBWAA and the Veterans, have been - wisely, I think - hesitant thus far to enshrine relief pitchers, lest we see a standard set that would let the likes of Lee Smith, John Franco and Jeff Reardon (fine pitchers all, but not anyone's immortals) into Cooperstown. Only four men have entered the Hall's doors mainly as relievers: Hoyt Wilhelm, Rollie Fingers, Dennis Eckersley and Bruce Sutter. But Goose Gossage stands up perfectly well against any of them. Wherever the line may ultimately be drawn, there is no question that it will be well below the Goose.
First of all, before we talk stats, there's the "wow" factor: Goose was a near-legendary figure when he pitched, with a blazing fastball that terrified hitters. Like Eck or Sutter or Mariano Rivera, it was an event when somebody beat the Goose. So there's no risk here that electing him will somehow dim the Hall's luster.
In his heyday, Gossage was a totally dominating figure, throwing between 133 and 141.2 innings with an ERA between 1.62 and 2.01 in 1975, 1977 and 1978. Leaving aside his disastrous 1976 foray into starting, when you combine 1975 with 1977-85 he threw at least 79 innings with an ERA below 2.30 seven times in 10 years, and with an ERA below 3.00 eight times. The Goose was a classic "fireman" rather than a modern "closer," sometimes riding the bench during easy "save situations" but often entering close games in the seventh or eighth innings with men on base. Twice he averaged more than two innings per game for an entire season (1975 and 1978), and he averaged over 1.5 innings per game in nine of his ten "peak" seasons. His only off year was 1979, when he was his usual self but pitched just 58.1 innings because he broke his hand in a clubhouse fight with Cliff Johnson. And he was better than his ERAs indicate because he was so unhittable entering games with men on base. He made nine All-Star teams.
True, Gossage stuck around too long, but even after 1985 he had ERAs below 3.00 twice plus a 3.12 mark in hitter-happy 1987; he also pitched well in 1993 (at age 41) but had his season ERA ruined (from 3.45 to 4.53) by one horrific outing where LaRussa left him in during a blowout to give up 6 runs in 2/3 of an inning to save the younger arms in the pen. Thus, Gossage's non-prime years don't detract from his towering peak.
One telling fact: from 1977 to 1984, an 8-year span, the Goose's teams exceeded their "Pythagorean Projections" - the number of games they'd be expected to win based on their runs scored and allowed - by 21 games, almost 3 full games a year. The biggest effects came, generally, in some of the seasons when the Goose pitched the most - 1977, 1980, 1984. (As a comparison, Sutter's teams exceeded their Pythagorean records by 19 games over 9 years (1976-84); for the six seasons of Dan Quisenberry's prime, from 1980 to 1985, the Royals exceeded their Pythagorean record by 20 games.) Logically, you expect teams with great bullpens to win the close ones. At a minimum, it's an extra feather in a guy's cap if his team won an unusual number of close games when he owned the 8th and 9th innings, and suggests that he was really helping his teams' bottom line.
Let's break out the Goose's prime compared to the four guys who made it in:
| Pitcher | Years | G/Yr* | SV/Yr | IP/Yr | ERA | H/9 | HR/9 | BB/9 | K/9 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Goose | 1975, 77-85** | 57 | 26 | 100.2 | 2.06 | 6.39 | 0.46 | 3.27 | 8.52 |
| Wilhelm | 1961-70 | 57 | 16 | 104.0 | 2.10 | 6.42 | 0.52 | 2.65 | 7.22 |
| Sutter | 1976-84 | 63 | 30 | 102.2 | 2.54 | 7.30 | 0.58 | 2.63 | 7.61 |
| Fingers | 1971-84 | 58 | 23 | 101.1 | 2.65 | 7.56 | 0.57 | 2.50 | 7.41 |
| Eckersely | 1987-97 | 61 | 37 | 70.2 | 2.87 | 7.55 | 0.88 | 1.27 | 9.02 |
* All per-year stats per 162 scheduled games
** Excludes ill-fated year as a starter
Like I said: unhittable. Yes, Fingers had a longer peak and two of the others have more credentials outside of those prime years (Wilhelm and Eck as starters). But if there's such a thing as a Hall of Fame relief pitcher, Rich Gossage is it.
Out: Andre Dawson
Andre Dawson has no business in the Hall of Fame unless we want to drastically lower the standards for induction of sluggers:
1. Put simply, Dawson's .323 career on base percentage made him a far easier out than any Hall of Fame outfielder or first baseman.
It should not be necessary to explain this to people who follow baseball, since the idea is at least as old as John McGraw and Branch Rickey - and a lot older than most sportswriters - but OBP is not some mystical, hocus-pocus statistic; it is, simply, how often a guy reached base instead of making out. As such, it's the most elementary building block of offense - it does the same job as batting average, only better (not that Dawson's .279 career batting average is anything special). For a guy who is making his case with the bat, an unspectacular OBP means he really has to have been an unbelievable slugger to make up the difference.
But Dawson's career OBP of .323 isn't just unspectacular, it's poor. In fact, only one Hall of Fame outfielder has a career on base percentage below .353, and that's Lou Brock (.343), who played in the offense-starved 1960s, as did the only two players in the Hall with a career OBP below .340 who weren't catchers or shortstops, Brooks Robinson (.322) and Bill Mazeroski (.299), both of whom were also legendary glovemen. The only Hall of Famers below .350 who got in without playing a key defensive position and playing it well are first basemen Tony Perez (.344) and George Kelly (.342); I've argued before that Perez was a mistake, and Kelly is the Hall's single most indefensible selection.
The low OBP means a lack of runs; Dawson played 21 years at a slugger's position and wound up 88th on the career runs scored list, and 100 runs behind Dwight Evans, a better defensive player than Dawson who fell off the ballot without a ripple. Dawson's OBP was above the league average only six times.
Dawson's career slugging percentage of .482 is good, but it hardly separates him from the pack of sluggers who pass through the ballot every year. I looked more systematically at Dawson's numbers, placed in their proper context, back in 2006 and found him no more fearsome a slugger than Larry Walker, Jose Canseco, Darryl Strawberry, Jim Rice, Babe Herman, Frank Howard, Dick Allen, or Fred McGriff, all of whom got on base more than Dawson, in some cases a lot more. [Dawson would rank 39th among Hall of Fame outfielders/1B in slugging]. Harold Baines drove in more runs than Dawson, and nobody wants to put Harold Baines in the Hall of Fame.
A major feather in Dawson's cap is his MVP award. I can't hope to replicate here Bill James' detailed demolition at the time, but Dawson's on base percentage that season was .328; the National League's OBP (including pitchers) was .327. As a result, Dawson scored 14 fewer runs in 1987 than Ozzie Smith did, and Ozzie didn't hit a home run all year. Did Dawson beat out Ozzie for the award based on defense and leadership? Ozzie's team won the pennant, Dawson's finished last. Dawson in 1987 hit almost 90 points higher at Wrigley than on the road, and hit 27 of his 49 homers at home. It was a hot, hot summer in Chicago; Cub rookies Greg Maddux and Jamie Moyer had ERAs of 5.61 and 5.10, respectively, while Jerry Mumphrey, Manny Trillo and Bob Dernier posted slugging percentages of .534, .444 and .497, respectively. Mumphrey and Trillo were out of baseball by the middle of the following year.
2. You can credit Dawson for "leadership" that doesn't show up in the box score if you like, but his teams often did not show any sign of benefiting from his presence.
Dawson's Cubs teams never won much, in part because they got few baserunners and the young players on the team (except Mark Grace) followed Dawson's lead in swinging at anything. Coincidence?
Dawson's Expos teams consistently missed the playoffs despite the presence of an outstanding cast around him, including Gary Carter, Tim Raines and Steve Rogers. Coincidence?
The Cubs finished last in 1987 with Dawson winning the MVP in the middle of their order. Coincidence?
The year the Cubs did win the division, 1989, Dawson missed 44 games. Coincidence?
The last two franchises Dawson played for were a combined 9 games under .500 in his last season on the roster, and each won the division the next year. Coincidence?
Maybe they are all coincidences. But they sure don't add up to a guy who was winning a lot of games beyond the box score.
3. You can change the subject away from his regular season numbers if you like, but Dawson was a poor postseason performer.
The postseason should be a big thing for a guy thought of as an inspirational leader. But Andre Dawson in October was hideous, .128 with no homers in two losing efforts in the NLCS. (Dawson hit .300 in the divisional series in 1981, but with no homers and no RBI). In 1981, when Dawson was at his peak - runner-up for the MVP award - the Expos lost an NLCS decided by one run in the last inning of the deciding game. Where was Andre? He didn't drive in a single run the whole series.
If voters want to reward a pre-steroids era slugger, they could pick Jim Rice - a man who at least stands a lot closer to the line. If they want to reward a guy who coulda shoulda woulda been a Hall of Famer if he had better knees . . . well, the line forms at the door; take a number. But there is no reason to vote for Dawson other than a determination to avoid the evidence.
Dayn Perry
Dayn Perry is a Mississippi native now living in Chicago with his wife and dog. (Oh, and said wife is due to give birth to the couple's first child in less than a week.) He's regular columnist for FOXSports.com and Chicago Sports Weekly.. He's presently at work on his second book, a biography of Reggie Jackson.
In: Andre Dawson
Let's make Andre Dawson a Hall of Famer, shall we?
When it comes to the numbers, Dawson's case is quite compelling. For his career, the Hawk boasts 438 homers (35th all-time), 2,774 hits (45th all-time), 314 steals, 503 doubles (44th all-time), 4,787 total bases (25th all-time), 1,039 extra-base hits (22nd all-time), and 1,591 RBI (32nd all-time). Of course, Dawson also won an MVP in '87 (and finished second in 1981 and 1983), made eight All-Star teams and won eight Gold Gloves and four Silver Sluggers. Some will pillory Dawson's career by pointing out that during his Cub years he benefited by playing half his games in hitter-friendly Wrigley Field. That's true enough, but let's not forget that Dawson spent the narrow majority of his career in Montreal, and Le Stade Olympique in those days was squarely a pitcher's environment.
It's also worth noting that Dawson was a center fielder for a good chunk of his career (he won four of his Gold Gloves while manning center on a regular basis), which means he was providing plus defense at an up-the-middle position. Dawson wasn't much of an on-base guy, but his power in tandem with his exceptional glove skills and longevity mean he's more than worthy.
On a more human level, Dawson also acquits himself quite well. Because of his power, Dawson was a feared hitter for decades, and seeing his stoic fearsomeness on display at the plate is something I'll never forget. With his exaggerated closed stance, ritual leveling of the bat at the pitcher just before the pitch and the rhythmic gum-chewing, Dawson was at once focused, calm, powerful, relaxed. He simply made an impression every time he stepped to the plate, as a Hall-of-Fame hitter should.
Oh, and there's also his nickname. I'm certainly not going to suggest that having a cool nickname is some sort of meaningful Hall-of-Fame credential, but it says something about a player's popularity and cultural heft when he acquires a moniker as lasting and identifiable as "The Hawk." So for my money, Dawson had the numbers, the skills and the presence we associate with Hall of Famers. So let's make this happen.
Out: Mark McGwire
Mark McGwire doesn't belong in Cooperstown, at least not yet.
On the numbers alone, McGwire is worthy, but, as we all know, this debate is about more than numbers. Detractors will call McGwire a one-dimensional slugger, but if you're going to have one dimension, then knocking the living hell out of the ball is a nifty one, as dimensions go. In any event, those arguing the statistical case against McGwire are missing the point: McGwire was an immensely valuable hitter, but he achieved that under highly questionable circumstances.
We don't know what McGwire did or didn't do when it comes to indulging in performance-enhancing drugs. However, the court of public opinion is not the court of law, so the burden of proof is both different and less exacting. It's safe to assume, based on McGwire's physical appearance, late-career performance spike, and deliriously meek performance in front of the U.S. Senate, that he did something untoward and probably a lot of something untoward. Until we know more about McGwire's transgressions, voters can't rightly check the box next to his name. To what extent did McGwire run afoul of commonly accepted standards of fair play? What's the timeline--i.e., when did he start taking PEDs, and what was his career track like from that point forward? Was he bound unswerving for the Hall before he started doing whatever it was he did? All these questions need to be answered, to the most complete extent possible, before anyone should even think about giving McGwire a "yea" vote.
So is McGwire a Hall of Famer? Maybe one day. Right now, however, we don't know enough about his character to put him in.
David Pinto
David Pinto runs Baseball Musings
In: Mark McGwire
Mark McGwire presents voters with a dilemma. They have statistical reasons to vote him in. They also face character issues involving Mark's alleged use of steroids weighing against him. Lately, however, there are calls to keep McGwire out on statistical grounds. It seems to me these calls are come from people looking for an excuse to ignore the character issue. I'd like to refute those arguments.
The argument against McGwire revolves around his 1626 hits and .263 batting average. That would not be the lowest in the Hall of Fame, but most players around that level were known as great defensive players. Bill Mazeroski, Ozzie Smith and Gary Carter fit that mold. There are two others, however, who are very much in the McGwire universe, Harmon Killebrew and Reggie Jackson.
All three, however, did two important offensive elements very well. They reached base and hit for power. The argument using McGwire's low batting average to keep him out of the Hall of Fame depends on that low batting average indicating that McGwire made a lot of outs. That's just not true. McGwire drew 1317 walks was hit by a pitch 75 times. That puts him on base over 3000 times.
On top of that was his tremendous power. McGwire's slugging percentage of .588 is over twice his batting average. That means McGwire's average hit was better than a double. When he got a ball he could hit, he smacked it. There's a good argument he was the greatest home run hitter of all time, as his 10.6 AB/HR beat runs by 1.2. The only thing that prevent McGwire from passing Aaron was his body giving out.
Mark McGwire was not the most fully faceted player in the history of baseball. But his skills of drawing walks and hitting home runs were extremely valuable, and he executed those skills extremely well. Based on the offense he generated, McGwire deserves a place in the Hall of Fame. Keeping him out for character issues is the right of the voters. Using his hit totals and batting average as a crutch for that vote just doesn't fly.
Out: Don Mattingly
Don Mattingly's Hall of Fame credentials rest on four outstanding seasons from 1984 to 1987. In that time he led the majors in slugging percentage at .560, ranked third in batting average at .337 and finished in the top twenty with a .381 OBA. Offensively, Don was a compete player, scoring and driving in over 400 runs. At the end of his seasonal age 26 season, Mattingly looked like one of the great slugging first basemen of all time.
A back injury, however, sapped Mattingly of his power. Just as he should have been experiencing his peak offensive output, Mattingly saw his stats plummet. Don't batting average dropped to a still good .293. However, with his ability to hit going down, Don didn't try to compensate by becoming more selective at the plate. His OBA dropped about the same amount, to .341. That was above average, but not outstanding.
The biggest drop, however came in his power. Don's slugging percentage fell to .426 over that four year period. His home runs dropped almost in half, from 119 to 55. Don combined double power with his home runs, and those dropped too, from 183 to 125. In four season, Mattingly went from a premier offensive player to a below average first baseman.
Mattingly gained a great deal of good will with his play from 1984-1987. Despite his fall off in batting, his glove work at first base never faded, and he remained the quiet, intense leader of the Yankees until he retired after a fourteen season career. But four outstanding seasons are just too short a time to vote someone into the Hall of Fame. Mattingly is properly loved by Yankees fans, but just as properly not voted into the Hall of Fame by the writers.
