Fallout Boy

The Common Man wrote last week about his love of Balboni and of his induction into and fascination with the Strat-o-Matic realm. It inspired him to throw a couple of teams together and play a game or two. The terms were simple, The Common Man simply had to find each player interesting. Perhaps they were very good. Perhaps terrible. Perhaps still active or recently retired. Perhaps they end up on The Common Man's television these days, bloviating about the game they used to play. Or perhaps, like Balboni, they were just fun. Each team had 22 man rosters (with three starting pitchers each, since The Common Man didn't know how many of these he'd end up wanting to play), but only the starting nine hit for either team. Here's how they were constructed:

The visiting team
1992 Pat Listach, 2B (.290/.352/.349
1992 Deion Sanders, RF (.304/.346/.495)
1990 Harold Baines, DH (.284/.378/.441)
1992 Matt Williams, 3B (.227/.286/.384)
1990 Eric Anthony, LF (.192/.279/.351
1992 Brian Harper, C (.307/.343/.410)
1992 Sammy Sosa, CF (.260/.317/.393)
1990 Steve Balboni, 1B (.192/.291/.406, of course he made the cut)
1990 Ozzie Guillen, SS (.279/.312/.341)

1990 Nolan Ryan, SP (13-9, 3.44, 137 H, 74 BB, 232 K in 204 IP)

The home team
1992 Paul Molitor, DH (.320/.389/.461)
1990 Robbie Alomar, SS (.287/.340/.381)
1990 Ken Griffey, Jr., CF (.300/.366/.481)
1990 Kevin Maas, 1B (.252/.367/.535)
1990 Gary Sheffield, 3B (.294/.350/.421)
1992 Shane Mack, LF (.315/.394/.467)
1992 Mickey Tettleton, C (.238/.379/.469)
1990 Rob Deer, RF (.209/.313/.432)
1990 Jose Oquendo, 2B (.252/.350/.316)

1990 John Smoltz, SP (14-11, 3.85, 206 H, 90 BB, 170 K, in 231.3 IP)

It looked like it should be a bloodbath. Smoltz's team clearly had the offensive advantage, and was not terrible in the field either, with Griffey, Mack, Deer, Sheffield, and Oquendo. But, of course, baseball is a funny game, and Strat-o-Matic can be even funnier. Nolan Ryan pitched a 2-hit shutout and won 3-0, striking out 11 and walking 6. And of those 11, only one was Rob Deer (Mack and Maas went down three times each, and Tettleton twice). Ryan's dominance shouldn't be that big of a surprise, as he was facing a lineup that was prone to the K, and he was the ultimate strikeout pitcher.


Smoltz's shortcoming was the longball in this contest, as he surrendered a solo shot each to Baines and to Balboni (long live Steve Balboni!). Balboni's was particularly surprising, given his troubles against RHP. But a 5-4 roll meant that Smoltz was vulnerable, and the 20-sided die did not roll his way.


Smoltz did manage to strike out 12 batters in eight innings, before giving way to Nasty Boy and mouth-breather Rob Dibble (circa 1990), who struck out the side in the 9th (four of the victorious visiting team's 15 K's were from Sosa).

The second game featured the same lineups, with 1990 Oil Can Boyd going for the visitors (10-6, 2.93, 164 H, 52, BB, 113 K in 190.7 IP) and 1990 Greg Maddux (15-15, 3.46, 242 H, 71 BB, 144 K in 237 IP) for the homers. It has always struck The Common Man that Strat-o-Matic (and Diamond Mind, for that matter) perpetually undervalues certain pitchers for reasons that defy comprehension. As he replayed the late 1920s and early 1930s, for instance, on DMB, Lefty Grove consistently underperformed his real stats. Maddux similarly seems to struggle in Strat-o-Matic, perhaps because his pinpoint control and ability to generate weak contact is mitigated by the hitters' cards he is forced up against. Because of the nature of Strat-o-Matic, pitchers are just as likely to affect the outcome of an at bat as a hitter (because the odds of the results being drawn from the pitcher and hitter cards is split evenly). But perhaps certain pitchers are more likely to control the outcome of hitters' at bats than others, particularly those with pinpoint control and wicked movement, like Maddux.


Or maybe it's all been the luck of the roll. The Common Man would be interested in hearing what others' experiences are with the Mad Dog.

In this game, true to form, Maddux struggled, walking 4 and scattering seven hits through seven innings, but only let in three runs. Oil Can, on the other hand, was beaten around Atlanta-Fulton County Stadium, giving up five runs in five innings of work.

Anyway, The Common Man has no idea when and if he'll play more of these games. But as these things tend to go, The Common Man will undoubtedly get his inner 13-year old up and make a couple more squads to battle on the basement floor (much to the amusement of The Uncommon Wife, who descended the stairs to find her husband sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over a board and a mess of cards, rolling some dice and keeping score like he was at the Metrodome. She ascended them laughing hysterically, after he told her Steve Balboni had just hit a home run, but that Nolan Ryan pitched a two-hitter.). He realizes that you may have no real interest in this phenomenon (too bad for you). But as long as the results were fresh and the outcomes interesting (and real games haven't started yet), he thought he'd share that his discussion last week has manifested itself in strange and peculiar ways. Now The Common Man promises to leave you alone about fictional baseball games being played in his house. Instead, he'll bring back some of the more interesting cards he finds, now and again, in an effort to highlight the very great, very bad, and otherwise noteworthy players in the box. And if you have any interesting cards to share, feel free to scan them in and send them The Common Man's way via the email address to the right. He'll be happy to pass along your finds to the rest of the class.

Random Thursday: Red Murff

This week’s lucky random man is Red Murff, a relief pitcher at the major league level who got into 26 games for the Milwaukee Braves from 1956-1957. Murff was a minor league legend in the Texas League in the early 1950s, and compiled a 114-71 record across six minor league seasons before being called up in ’56. In 1955, Murff was named The Sporting News Minor League Player of the Year, after going 27-11 for the Dallas Eagles, with a 1.99 ERA in 303 IP (including a 19.7 of those innings in a single game, a 3-2 loss to the Texarcana Bears). The next year, the Braves purchased him from the New York Giants and made him a rookie at 35 years old. He worked as a mop-up man (the team was 1-13 in games in which Murff appeared), and rarely pitched in any meaningful situations. The next year, Red was used heavily in the early goings, getting into 14 games before the end of May. In his last 6 outings, however, Murff gave up 12 runs and was sent back to the minors from whence he came. Pitching for the Witchita Braves that year, Red went 11-9 with a 3.63 ERA. But his former club went on to best the Yankees in the World Series, behind the amazing performance of Lew Burdette (3-0, 3 CGs (games 2, 5, 7), 0.27 ERA). Murff would never get back, and never really contributed meaningfully during his playing career at all. But what sets Murff apart is what he did after his career was over.

For without Murff, two of the greatest hurlers in baseball's great history may not have even made it to the big stage. After his playing days were done, Murff became a well-respected minor-league coach and manager, and is generally credited (according to his obituaries, anyway) with giving Phil Niekro the confidence to throw his knuckleball in game situations. Knucksie, of course, won 318 games in his Hall of Fame career, and his success inspired his brother to follow suit and win 221. Of course, it's difficult to know exactly what kind of role Murff actually played in Niekro's career (without reading Phil's biography Knuckle Balls, which you can buy online for as little as $.72, that is), but for now The Common Man will take that at face value (until his copy of the book gets here).

After coaching, Murff went into scouting, where he discovered and signed a young Texas right-hander named Nolan Ryan. In his Hall of Fame induction speech, Ryan singled the former pitcher out, saying "He thought when he saw me at 6-foot-2 and 140 pounds, he wasn't discouraged by my build and by the way I threw the baseball as many other scouts were. And I appreciate the fact that Red spent so much time with me and worked to help me become a better pitcher. Thank you, Red." The Ryan Express finished up with 324 wins, 5714 strikeouts, and 7 no-hitters.

So, while Red Murff may not have done much worth noting while he played the game, he is proof positive that even the shortest careers can leave an indelible mark on baseball, forever altering its history. Indeed, while Murff was only directly responsible for a 2-2 record and 31 strikeouts in 50.3 innings of work (and a 4.65 ERA), if we look at his larger impact, we can indirectly credit him with 644 wins and 9087 strikeouts in 10,840.7 innings in 53 seasons (and a 3.27 ERA). Indeed, if we generously credit him for Joe Niekro's work as well, he's good for 865 wins and 10,834 strikeouts in 14,424.7 innings pitched in 75 seasons (and a 3.35 ERA). Not to mention any additional innings, wins, and Ks that come out of Lance Niekro, who's getting the chance to reinvent himself as a knuckleballer just because he's Joe's son and Phil's nephew. Not a bad legacy.

Sadly, John Robert "Red" Murff passed away in November of last year at the age of 87. But his stamp on the game endures.