Showing posts with label Bert Blyleven. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bert Blyleven. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Does Jack Morris Fit in Baseball's Hall of Fame?

By The Common Man

This post actually came out of a Twitter conversation that Bill and The Common Man were having yesterday. Here’s the timeline. Tyler Kepner wrote a thoughtful and persuasive article for the New York Times, in which he argues that there is room for Jack Morris in the Hall of Fame, saying “Numerous studies clearly prove that Blyleven was a lot better, so the point is not worth debating. One has nothing to do with the other…. It’s a feel thing with Morris, and that’s not always wrong. Emotions mean a lot.”

TCM agreed, saying that he would “be happy to support Jack Morris for the Hall of Fame, but only after Bert Blyleven is ushered in.” This got Bill up in arms, because Bill doesn’t think Morris is an acceptable candidate, and he challenged TCM “to explain this so we can go on being friends.” Bill’s joking, of course. We were never friends. But in the interest of continuing our productive partnership here on the site, The Common Man figures he owes you and Bill an explanation that is longer than 140 characters. So here goes:

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Blyleven vs. Mo(rris)

By Bill

It's that time of year, when most people just think about Christmas and stuff, but baseball freaks like us spend way too much of their time thinking about Hall of Fame voting.  And for the last few years, it's been that time of year when everybody talks about Bert Blyleven and Jack Morris.  Jon Heyman and Buster Olney, among what I'm sure are at least a few others, have already publicly admitted to voting no on the former and yea on the latter.

So that's what I was thinking about, and I started thinking about this fun little exercise:

It's the winter of 1994. Just a couple months ago, for the first time in ninety years, October passed without a World Series.

Friday, June 18, 2010

Mirror Image

Wife week seems to have morphed into Jamie Moyer Appreciation Week.

The other day, The Common Man wrote a short post on The Daily Something about Jamie Moyer’s longevity, in which TCM claimed that Moyer is not Hall of Fame material. This prompted the following comment from the blog’s purveyor and good friend,
“He's not a Hall of Famer...but it's always important (to me) to note that if he's not, neither is Jack Morris. Nearly identical IP and ERA+, and Moyer now has almost as many strikeouts and many fewer walks. To believe Morris is a Hall of Famer, you have to believe that one really good World Series game is all it would take to propel Jamie Moyer there.”

Touche, Bill. As Bill points out, the difference between Moyer and Morris is an eyelash at this point (that eyelash being a 10 inning shutout and that they throw with opposite hands). Compare the following chart:


Relative to their leagues, the two players are pretty similar on a superficial level. That said, Moyer has more innings, much better control, and a higher WAR than Morris, according to BaseballReference.com. And while Morris made his bones in the World Series (4-2, 2.96), his overall playoff record (7-4, 3.80, 0.9 HR/9, 3.1 BB/9, 6.2 K/9, and 2.0 K/BB) is much more in line with his overall numbers. And those ALCS starts count too. Plus, it’s not like Moyer has been a slouch in the postseason (3-3, 4.14 ERA with a lower HR/9 and BB/9 and a higher K/9 and K/BB). In fact, if we remove one disastrous start for Moyer against the Dodgers in 2008 (when he gave up 6 runs in 1.1 innings), Moyer’s postseason ERA is 2.93. The main difference between the two hurlers in the postseason seems to be innings pitched, where Morris has more than twice the experience in October. So, while Morris does get some extra credit for his postseason heroics, it’s probably not enough to substantially separate himself from Moyer, if we’re looking at their careers objectively.

So what do we make of this? Morris was never an elite pitcher in the American League, just a good pitcher for a long time. Similarly, Jamie Moyer was probably never an elite pitcher in either league (only one all star appearance, a few high finishes in Cy Young voting but never top 3). The two are each the second most similar pitcher to one another according to Bill James’ similarity scores (amazingly, the most similar pitcher to each of them is Dennis Martinez). Given the general qualifications of Hall of Fame pitchers, neither really passes the bar.

That said, The Common Man has recently become more of a “Big Hall” kind of guy, and can envision a Hall of Fame that welcomes both the twirler of the greatest game in World Series history and the pitching with the biggest post-30 career turnaround ever. After all, we all enjoyed the careers of both Morris and Moyer, and TCM sees nothing wrong with reliving those memories when we browse the plaques in the Cooperstown Hall of Fame Gallery.

So The Common Man revises his earlier statement. Moyer for the Hall! And Moyer! And Santo! But all of them have to line up behind Blyleven.

Friday, June 11, 2010

What's the Biggest Debut in Washington Baseball History?

As The Common Man mentioned earlier, it’s Washington Week on this site, in honor of Stephen Strasburg’s big debut. And in watching that debut, it’s fun to dream about Strasburg becoming the face of Washington baseball for the 21st century. But, as The Common Man alluded to earlier, this was hardly the first big debut of a premier pitching talent in Washington’s history.


First and foremost, of course, is The Big Train, Walter Johnson, the premier player in Washington baseball’s annals. His 417 wins are second all time, and his 110 shutouts are 20 more than the nearest competitor (Pete Alexander). He was the most dominating pitcher in the Major Leagues from 1910-1924. He won two MVPs, despite not being eligible for several after winning in 1913 (because players couldn’t win twice). And his strikeout record stood for more than 50 years. On him, Clark Griffith built his pennant winners in the 1920s, even though Johnson was in his 30s.

If you believe the legends, Walter was a thunderbolt from a blue sky when he arrived in 1907. According to 1962’s The Greatest in Baseball,
“As a boy growing up on a isolated farm in Humboldt, Kansas, Walter Johnson had little chance to play baseball. He was almost 20 when a traveling salesman saw him pitch in a sandlot game. The excited drummer dispatched urgent letters to all the major-league clubs, extolling the virtues of the unknown sandlot pitcher….Eventually the Washington Senators…picked up pitcher Walter Johnson for the price of a $9 railroad ticket.”
That story, as you’d probably expect, is a bunch of hooey.

Yes, Johnson was born on and lived at a farm in Kansas, but moved to Los Angeles with his family in 1902. At 16, he began playing ball on a sandlot, but quickly graduated to a semipro outfit for a local oil company, according to Charles Carey of SABR’s Baseball Biography Project. From there, he got a brief trial with Tacoma in the Northwest League, before settling in with another semipro club in Idaho. News of Johnson’s success was broadcast throughout the baseball world, including an apparent consecutive scoreless inning streak of 77. Washington sent a scout to check Johnson out, and he convinced Johnson to come back East as a member of the Senators. He was well regarded enough that the Los Angeles Times did a story on his signing on July 21, 1907.

Johnson got his first start on August 2, 1907 against the Detroit Tigers. According to the box score the next day, Johnson went 8 innings and gave up 6 hits, including a homerun to Sam Crawford. He walked one and struck out three. Davy Jones relates, in The Glory of Their Times, that
“Being the lead-off man…resulted in my holding the unique distinction of being the first man to ever face Walter Johnson in a major-league game….Boy, could that guy ever fire that ball! He had those long arms, absolutely the longest arms I ever saw. They were like whips, that what they were. He’d just whip that ball in there.”
Sam Crawford remembered that day as well, saying
“Did you know that I was playing with Detroit the day Walter Johnson pitched his first major-league game? His very first. In fact, I beat him. I’m not being egotistical, you know, but it’s a fact. I hit a home run off him and we beat him—I believe the score was 3-2.”
Crawford’s almost right. Indeed, he homered, and probably did so off of Johnson. But the Tigers pulled this game out in the bottom of the 9th, after Johnson had left the game. Instead, Tom Hughes gave up the final run on four hits, and was hung with the loss. But by now we’re used to inaccuracies in GOTT, and as far as they go, this isn’t too egregious.

Despite the loss (or no-decision, as it were), people were impressed. Tigers pitcher Bill Donovan called him “the best raw pitcher I have ever seen.” Ty Cobb reported that Johnson’s fastball, “made me flinch” and “hissed with danger.” The press picked up on it too. On the 18th, the Reading Eagle wrote,
“Johnson is only 19 years old, but is strong and husky, and has already shown remarkable ability. He has an exceptionally steady head for a youngster , and has a bunch of benders that prove very puzzling [sic] to batsmen….Johnson made good in the box from the very start, but was weak at the bat. He blanked the Tigers in six of the eight innings he pitched….With the Tigers as competitors, that’s going some. [Manager Joe] Cantillon was greatly pleased with Johnson’s showing and will retain him whether or not he holds his present form, in the belief that ultimately he will be a great pitcher.”

Indeed, Johnson was Strasburg 80 years before Strasburg was even born. But there’s one problem, Johnson’s first start came on the road in Detroit.


To find another Hall of Famer who debuted in Washington, we have to fast forward to 1930, when the Yankees came to town. This debut, however, did not generate any fanfare. On April 29, the Yanks jumped out to a 7-0 lead over Senators ace Bump Hadley, and looked poised to run away with the game. In the bottom of the third, however, Washington came roaring back against former Senator Tom Zachary. Zachary, after cruising through the first six batters of the game, couldn’t even record an out in the third frame, and gave way to Roy Sherid after being tagged for five runs. Sherid couldn’t retire anybody either, giving up two more hits before being replaced by rookie Californian Vernon Gomez.

Lefty Gomez had been a 20 year old star in the Pacific Coast League in 1929, winning 18 games for the San Francisco Seals, and was purchased by the Yankees for $45,000. On the way back north after Spring Training, Gomez apparently shut out the Little Rock Travelers in an exhibition, while also getting two hits. Impressed, the Yankees added him to the big league roster.

Against a strong Senators lineup, however, Gomez wasn’t very effective. He allowed Sherid’s runners to score and before the inning was out, it was tied. Gomez would pitch four innings in all, giving up two more runs on four hits and 2 walks. By the end of the contest, the Senators were on top 11-8, and Gomez was hung with the loss. The game recaps that TCM has located from the next day don’t mention him at all, focusing instead on the offensive onslaught of the Senators, who had just won their 8th straight game. On the year, Gomez would go 2-5 with a 5.55 ERA in 60 innings, and walked more batters than he struck out (28 to 22). According to an AP report, he was demoted to the St. Paul Saints in late July, where he acquitted himself nicely (8-4, 4.08 in 86 innings). He’d be back in the majors in 1931, and would win 21 games.



Nine years later, the equally anonymous Early Wynn came to Washington to pitch for the home team. Wynn had been signed, at 17, by the Senators, who had watched him develop into a strong pitcher by 1939. He won 15 games for Charlotte that year, with a 3.96 ERA in 243 innings. He was called up on September 12th, but had trouble impressing reporters, who wrote,
“Early, nowadays is performing for the Washington Senators…in one of those noble experiments which Clark Griffith conducts each fall with a double motive—hoping that he can convince the Washington fans that he is bringing up new players and really ‘building for next year,’ and hoping he can take the minds of the said fans off the sorry spectacle annually presented by the Senators.”
Ouch.

The prelude to Wynn’s start was actually more exciting than the start itself. On September 12, the White Sox and Senators were playing a tight contest, and were up 2-1 against Sox pitcher Thornton Lee. That’s when things got interesting, according to the Associated Press,
“With Johnny Welaj on first base, Taft Wright hit a pop fly to left. Gerald Walker of the White Sox caught the ball, then dropped it, picked it up and threw to shortstop Eric McNair, who tagged out Welaj. The umpires ruled that Walker had held the ball long enough to make a put-out and upheld the Sox’ claim to a double play.”

Senators manager Bucky Harris argued and played the rest of the contest under protest. The Sox would score 2 in the eighth and hang on 3-2. Afterward called AL President Will Harridge. After hearing Harris, Harridge upheld the protest (an interesting precedent, given the umpire was undoubtedly making a judgment call; would this have helped the Tigers in the Galarraga game?) , declared the game itself forfeit, and ordered the teams to play a doubleheader the next day.

In the first game the next day, Ted Lyons and Ken Chase battled in an epic pitchers’ duel that entered the 11th inning tied at 1-1. In the top of the 11th, the Sox pushed across two runs, and hung on to win. Both hurlers went the whole way. In the nightcap, again, both pitchers went the whole way, but the game was called after eight innings, presumably because of rain or darkness (no game accounts TCM has found indicate anything about this, but given that the attendance is listed at 500, something was off. Wynn walked Ollie Bejma to lead off the game, and the Sox scored two on follow-up hits by Mike Kreevich and Gee Walker. Wynn would settle down, giving up six hits and five walks in his eight frames, which led to four runs (three earned). He didn’t strike out a batter. The Senators would go down 4-2, handing Wynn his first of 244 losses.

The next day, game recaps were more interested in the winning pitchers and the upheld protests than a raw emergency starter from Alabama. They also enjoyed mocking the Senators’ losing streak, which had just stretched to 6 games (7 counting the wiped out game), and the fact that their protest was for naught.

For what it’s worth, Wynn’s next start was more exciting, but for the wrong reasons. Wynn struggled on the mound, giving up 11 hits and 6 runs over 6.1 innings, but was especially notable at the bat. John Strothard writes sarcastically, for the Daytona Beach Morning Journal,
“Yesterday, the ex-Florida State league hurler came through to cover himself with glory and stuff. The Senators, playing Cleveland, had men on first and second with none out. Early, trying to bunt, hit a pop fly….Ken Keltner…grabbed the pop and dropped it. Keltner threw to Lou Boudreau at second. Boudreau touched Mickey Vernon who was off the bag for out one. Boudreau threw to Oscar Grimes at first and Grimes tagged Al Evans, who had started for second. That was out No. 2. Grimes, moving and thinking quickly, leaped to first base to put out Wynn, apparently confused by the whole business, had trotted toward first base, bat still in hand.”
It was the first triple play in the American League in 1939. Somehow Wynn weaseled his way into one more start, in which he gave up five runs in six innings. On the year, he had walked 10 batters in 20.1 innings, while striking out just 1, and given up 15 runs. Obviously, Washington fans were uninspired, and Wynn was returned to Charlotte the next year, where he stayed until 1941.



“Major League” baseball was played in Washington from 1884-1972 (with years off in 1885, 1890, and 1900). And it has been back in the city since 2005. That’s 94 seasons. In all that time, based on what I’ve looked at, only two Hall of Fame pitchers have ever debuted in Washington, and neither was even close to as overwhelming as Strasburg’s. That’s a pretty remarkable drought.

One caveat. This could change as early as next year, if Bert Blyleven finally, deservingly, gets his place in Cooperstown. Blyleven was a much-hyped, 19-year old rookie when he made his debut with the Twins on June 5 of 1970 at RFK Stadium. Facing Frank Howard and the rest of the Senators, Blyleven was masterful, pitching seven innings, giving up one run, and striking out seven with his big curveball. Both managers were effusive after the game. The Twins’ Bill Rigney told reporters, “What can I say about him. He’s the best looking prospect I’ve seen. I’ve got to rate him with all the real young players that I’ve ever looked at. He’s just beautiful.” The Sens’ Ted Williams agreed, “He looked exceptionally good out there. He was outstanding. He’s the most mature 19-year-old I’ve seen in a long time.” Howard, who had to stand in against the youngster, also praised him, “He’s got a fine arm. He’s everything they’d say he was. He knows how to pitch. It’s hard to say anything based on one game, but he looks like he’s got a great future. Somebody’s taught him a lot about pitching.”

Even though it’s unlikely, The Common Man hopes that Strasburg’s career turns out to be as brilliant as the Dutchman’s. And actually, Strasburg’s debut with the historically bad Nationals may cost him some wins, just like pitching for middling franchises in Minnesota, Texas, and Cleveland cost Blyleven over the course of his career. By the time Strasburg’s retired, maybe we’ll be past caring so much about Wins, and both guys will have plaques in Cooperstown. We can dream, right?

Monday, January 26, 2009

Twins Weekend

Every year, in the dead of winter, the Minnesota Twins hold a massive festival in the Metrodome. When he was but a boy, The Common Man and his best friend, Bill, would go to this TwinsFest every year, braving the cold outside, and the crowds and the lines inside to snag some autographs, peruse through baseball cards (TwinsFest doubles as the largest card and memorabilia show in the Midwest), and generally get geared up for the coming season. It was a great way for The Common Man to sustain himself through the depths of winter when baseball seems so far away.


Needing a weekend away from the womenfolk and the babies, The Common Man and his friend decided to get all nostalgic and to return to the Twin Cities, nerding out to the highest degree possible with 31,000 other Twins fans. And nerd out they did, laying out a complex plan in advance for getting through the crowds at the Dome, seeking out the autographs they wanted and avoiding those that they already had or didn't want to bother with (really, what's the point of getting Ben Revere's name on a baseball, if you're only going to follow it up with Drew Butera and Toby Gardenhire?). In all it was a highly successful trip, and a highly successful TwinsFest. The Twins really put on a good show. Here are some random observations from this weekend:

1) The crowds are huge at TwinsFest, and even below-zero temperatures don't keep hearty Minnesotans from lining up outside the gates at six in the morning. The Common Man and Bill got the the Dome at 8:30 on Sunday, a full half-hour before the gate opened, and the line was almost out in the street. When Joe Mauer is signing at 11:00, it's important to be as close to the front of the line as possible.

2) Because this is such a big card show, sometimes non-Twins show up. This year, 91 year old Bob Feller sat in a small booth and autographed baseballs (at $25 a pop) for nine hours. The Common Man, of course, partook of the man's graciousness and stamina and got his baseball signed. Feller, though cantankerous in his public comments recently, was gracious and made a point of shaking The Common Man's hand firmly, looking him in the eye, and sizing him up. It was clear that Bob Feller had figured out that, if push came to shove, he could take The Common Man in a fight. Bob Feller is a man's man. Anyway, all the media bellyaching that followed Feller's comments seems unnecessary. At 91, The Common Man thinks Rapid Robert has earned the right to be a little silly and full of himself. You get a certain amount of leeway after turning 85.

3) The Common Man and Bill got there too late on Saturday for Justin Morneau's autograph, but were able to sidle on over to Bert Blyleven's line a half hour before the Dutchman was going to start signing, and get a good spot. The Hall of Fame debate surrounding Blyleven has been done to death around the interwebs, and The common Man won't add to it here, except to say that Bert Blyleven is clearly the best eligible pitcher not enshrined. His counting stats (287 wins, 3701 Ks, 242 CGs, 60 Shutouts, almost 5000 IP) are excellent, and his intangibles (one of the greatest curveballs of all time, a beloved and colorful player, played on mostly less-than-stellar teams) should help him. In the interest of full-disclosure, The Common Man has always liked Blyleven, and liked his case for enshrinement. Today, however, The Common Man loves the man even more.

As he waited in line, The Common Man called his 91-year old grandmother to tell her about Feller, and mentioned that he was going to get Bert's autograph. She told her grandson to "tell Mr. Blyleven that I've been a Twins fan since 1961 and followed him since 1970, and I love listening to him on the television. And tell him that I hope he gets into the Hall of Fame." Well, The Common Man thought about trying to remember all that, and decided it would be easier for her to tell Bert herself. So at the front of the line, once he saw that Bert was being chatty with his fans, The Common Man called his grandmother and asked Bert if he wouldn't mind speaking to his biggest fan over-90. With great humor and warmth, Blyleven talked to The Common Man's grandmother for a minute-and-a-half or so before passing the phone back, joking with her that The Common Man was standing before him with earings, spiked purple hair, and a tongue stud, and that she should have a talk with her grandson. "Now I know you're pulling my leg," she told him in her cutest grandma voice, before thanking him and wishing him well.

It was just another wacky moment in the life of Bert Blyleven, one he's probably forgetten by now. But The Common Man's grandmother has been going on about getting to talk to Bert Blyleven to anyone who will listen to her these last couple of days. She's told them about how funny he was and how giddy and flustered she felt at the opportunity. So, while The Common Man apologizes to all the people in line who had to wait for an extra minute and a half, he wants to publicly thank Bert for making his grandmother's week.

4) TwinsFest is a lot of fun, don't get The Common Man wrong. But all of its physical activities are devoted to kids. Batting cages, youth clinics, homerun derbies. The ones at TwinsFest are specifically designed for youngsters. The Common Man thinks that the event is missing a great opportunity. How many adults would love to spend some extra minutes in a batting cage, for instance? How much would they pay to get 20 cuts in? Since people were willingly shelling out $4 for a soda, he thinks they'd pay plenty.

5) Oh dear God, the lines were long. With more than 31,000 fans in attendence, that probably goes without saying. But The Common Man had to get in line at 9:00 to get Joe Mauer's autograph from 10:45-12:15. In all, The Common Man probably spent 6 hours just waiting in line in the ballpark's concourse, watching a highlight video of the 1982 Twins on a loop. If The Common Man has to hear "Believe it or not, I'm walkin' on air. I never thought I could feel so free-hee-hee," again, he's going to end it all. Still, it was very worth it. That Mauer ball is going next to Puckett in the display case.

6) When you're standing in line forever, you find other things to do with your time. This is how The Common Man figured out he could name all 58 Cy Young award winners from 1980-2008. He'd think that was impressive too, except that Bill could name all the MVP winners from the same period, and did so much faster.

And that was The Common Man's weekend. A lot of lines. A lot of autographs. There were also a couple of wonderful dinners (thanks, Bill's mom!), a stack of waffles, and three wonderful beers The Common Man can't wait to tell you about later this week.