Predicting the Hall of Fame Votes, Part 2: 2017-2021

By The Common Man (undermined at every turn by Bill)

Yesterday, Bill kicked us off with the first installment of this series, in which we're picking the BBWAA Hall of Fame voting results from the next 25 years. Yesterday, out of 13 players mentioned, we agreed on 10 of them going in in that five year window, though our order was somewhat different. As we move further out though, we're going to start to see a lot more distance between Bill's predictions and The Common Man's. (Here are the other entries in our series, Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5, as well as our wrap-up.)


Here's our methodology, as outlined by Bill yesterday,

"James picked two inductees for every season, which makes sense; historically, there have been either one or two BBWAA inductees in virtually every year, and since it's almost entirely guesswork anyway, why not make it uniform? But on the other hand, there are a ton of worthy candidates coming up, and you do see three in a class about once every ten years (see 1984, 1991, 1999). So we decided to limit ourselves to two candidates (or fewer, though I chose never to pick fewer) in every year, with the exception of two seasons, in which we could name three. For a 25-year stretch, that seems reasonable."

We both used up our three-man ballots yesterday, so those are off the table. The Common Man is handling the main commentary this time, with Bill piping up whenever he feels like it. And away we go:

Predicting the Hall of Fame Votes, Part I: 2012-2016

By Bill (with special guest snarking from The Common Man)

You might remember that a little over a month ago, I wrote about Bill James' 1994 predictions for the BBWAA Hall of Fame voting covering the next 25 years: 1995-2019.

I had a lot of (respectful) fun pointing out James' hits and misses, in what was essentially an impossible exercise, so TCM and I thought it only fair to try the same impossible exercise ourselves. We've each made our own lists covering the next 25 years of BBWAA voting -- 2012-2036 -- and as you'll see, our lists are very different, even as to players who have already retired (I can't wait to see what happens when we're dealing with guys currently in their early twenties). We'll be unveiling and discussing our lists in five five-year segments in the coming days and/or weeks. Today, the immediate next five years, 2012-2016, which covers the first ballot for every player who has already retired (2010 retirees will be eligible in 2016). (Also, here is Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5, as well as our wrap-up).

A word on methodology. James picked two inductees for every season, which makes sense; historically, there have been either one or two BBWAA inductees in virtually every year, and since it's almost entirely guesswork anyway, why not make it uniform? But on the other hand, there are a ton of worthy candidates coming up, and you do see three in a class about once every ten years (see 1984, 1991, 1999). So we decided to limit ourselves to two candidates (or fewer, though I chose never to pick fewer) in every year, with the exception of two seasons, in which we could name three. For a 25-year stretch, that seems reasonable.

So, onward. I'm handling the main commentary this time, with TCM injecting comments as he sees fit, and we'll switch next time. Here's hoping that in fifteen years, someone will care enough about us to come back to this list and have a good laugh at our expense:

Whatever Happened to Bill James' Predictions for the Hall of Fame?

By Bill

Yesterday, a piece over on the Yankees blog Pinstripe Alley incited a little lively discussion (and some ridicule) on Twitter, when the author, jscape2000, noted Nate Silver's observation that there are historically about 35 players active at any given time who go on to become Hall of Famers, and went on to make some guesses as to who those future Hall of Famers are at this moment.  And while you might argue with some of his picks (particularly picking Yadier Molina to end up in the "Tier One" camp; he's had a pretty decent start to his career and everything, but he's not going to make anybody forget about Bench or Piazza), I think the idea is a perfectly good one.

It reminded me, however, that in his 1995 book Whatever Happened to the Hall of Fame? (previously published in '94 under the alternative, more provocative title The Politics of Glory), the great Bill James had made a similar set of projections and predictions, using his Hall of Fame Monitor tool and some educated guesswork to project the BBWAA Hall of Fame inductees for the next 25 years, covering 1995 through 2019.

That's necessarily an inexact science -- I remembered in particular that Ruben Sierra was on the list -- but I wondered how the rest of it came out.  And it turns out that not only did I still have the book, permitting me to see it for myself, but through the magic of the internet, I can show you!  I thought I'd take a look at each year's picks and see how he did.  The number in parentheses is that player's year on the ballot that the predicted year would have represented:

1995: Mike Schmidt (1), Jim Rice (1)
There's a fun one right off the bat.  Schmidt sailed in with 97% of the vote, while Jim Ed garnered less than 30% and, as we all know, had a long, tough fight ahead.  James has quite famously battled against the dramatic overstatements of Rice's case, comparing him to Yankee contemporary Roy White (who got zero votes in 1985), but clearly didn't trust the writers to see it his way.  It's also appropriate that these two show up together given Schmidt's recent comments; whatever the other failings of the BBWAA, at least they saw the situation more clearly than Schmidt does.

Slotting Pujols

Way back in 2001, a plucky young writer named Bill James published his magnum opus, his 1,000 page classic New Historical Baseball Abstract. In it, he traipses across baseball history, providing vignettes and anecdotes about the players and events that tickle his fancy. He also spends a good two-thirds of the book explaining his new analytical tool (win shares) and using it to rank the best 100 players at each position.

The Common Man's buddy Bill brought this all up last week, in his examination of Jeff Bagwell (who comes in at #4 among 1B) and Frank Thomas (#10) and comes to the conclusion that Bagwell was the better all around player (which was James' conclusion as well).


This prompted some confusion for The Common Man, who couldn't mentally get past Jeff Bagwell as the 4th best 1B ever. In the comment section, he wrote, "I love me some Bill James, but we've got to be able to find four better 1B than Jeff Bagwell, can't we? I can't quite wrap my mind around him being an inner circle HOF guy." Bill responded and effectively challenged that, pointing out a lack of candidates to unseat Bags. Gehrig and Foxx are obvious. James puts McGwire at #3 (Bagwell probably moved past him with three good years after the publication of the book). After Bagwell, James has Eddie Murray at #5, Johnny Mize (6, much more reasonable than The Common Man figured, after looking back). Harmon Killebrew was #7, Hank Greenberg is 8, and Willie McCovey is 9. Nobody really stands out as better than Bagwell.

But before anybody on that list really settles down and gets too comfortable, let's talk about this Albert Pujols guy who was not yet a twinkle in Bill James' eye in 2000-2001. Indeed, in 2001, Pujols was unanimously voted the NL Rookie of the Year, and excelled as a four-corners super sub (though he played 161 games) for Tony LaRussa's Cardinals. Two MVPs, four silver sluggers, a gold glove and seven all star appearances later, Pujols is 29 and enjoying his best season yet. His OPS+ is a Bondsian 198. He's homering every 13.5 plate appearances (16 in 216). His defense seems to have taken a hit so far this year, but Albert hasn't ever given back runs in the field in his career and isn't likely to across a full season at age 29. His career hitting numbers .335/.427/.626, 351 2B, 335 HR, 1019 RBI, 989 R, and 1588 hits are incredible for just 8+ years in, not even accounting for his career 171 OPS+. Yesterday, Matt Waters and Rob Neyer ran through their All-'00s team, and Pujols was prominently displayed. Neyer wrote "Pujols has absolutely zero competition, and must be the easiest choice here." Indeed, if he had the requisite 10 years, Pujols would probably be a shoe-in for the Hall, despite playing in an extreme offensive era, particularly because the stain of PED use has yet to touch his golden reputation (though, admittedly, you never know).

So, at this point, the question for The Common Man becomes, where does Pujols belong on James' list? Assuming that no one else is added from this era (yet, though Morneau, Ortiz, Howard, Fielder, Helton, Giambi, Konerko, Thome, Delgado, and Teixeira may have something to say about it already), where can we safely slot Pujols among the greatest of all time?

It's pretty clear to The Common Man that Pujols should already be in the top 12. Given the troubles with assessing 19th century players (which The Common Man has gone into before, he would err on the side of caution with players like Cap Anson (who is #11 for James). And Don Mattingly (#12, James' worst choice in the book), with respect, is not fit to carry Albert's jock. Given the defensive upgrade, and the peak value, and the fact that Pujols has created about 65% of the runs in 55% of the plate appearances as Thomas has, Albert probably edges ahead of The Big Hurt at #10.

McCovey's three best seasons ('68-'71) stack up with the best of Pujols' work very nicely. That said, the body of Pujols' work outside of those years is far less impressive. Stretch has an OPS+ of 146 before those three years, and 126 after. Pujols' lowest single season OPS+ is 151. The sheer dominance of Albert is too much to ignore here (note, Thomas probably also shoots past McCovey).

Hank Greenberg, at #8, is a tougher case. His counting stats (1628 H, 331 HR, 379 2B, 1276 RBI, 1051 R) are remarkably similar to Pujols' (see above). And Greenberg suffers from losing four years in his early 30s to military service. Just because he's 29 though, and still going, and is already marginally ahead of Greenberg, The Common Man's gotta push Albert up past him.

It pains The Common Man to say this, but in terms of peak value (and not even thinking about defense), Albert Pujols is already light years ahead of Harmon Killebrew (James' #7). Partial though The Common Man is to Harmon's plight, and cognizant of his adventures at 3B and LF (which drag down his overall contribution to his team and for which he shouldn't be blamed (Harmon was about as good a LF as a post...or Delmon Young, but the Twins kept looking for ways to create at bats for Rich Reese, among others), Pujols has been a far more complete player, and elite player, than Harmon ever was (The Common Man will now go scourge his back with his Twins-flail).

Johnny Mize is a tough call too. His peak is comparable to Pujols, but it's shorter and not easily bunched together. That said, Mize missed his 30-32 seasons to WWII, which would have presumably extended that peak, helped his overall counting stats, and raised his OPS+. We don't have advanced defensive stats for Mize, but his reputation preceeds him, as one of the sweetest fielders ever around the bag. It's probably fitting that, until Pujols does more to assert himself, he stays right about here. Call him #6b, and Mize #6a.


There's little doubt that Pujols will move past The [Original] Big Cat soon, perhaps by the end of the year. And depending on how you feel about Mark McGwire, he could be sneaking up on #4 as well. Eddie Murray probably is safe for another season or two, which means that Bagwell's ok for now. But with, presumably, 5 more prime or just-off-prime seasons left to go, and maybe another 3-5 beyond that, it's likely that Pujols will move into the top 3 all time before he's done. Whether he's actually able to push aside the twin colossuses of Gehrig and Foxx will be fun to watch.