Any player/Any era: Al Kaline

What he did: For being a baseball Hall of Famer, and one of his sport’s greatest living players, Al Kaline is a forgotten man sometimes. Sure, the longtime Detroit Tiger has 3,007 hits, a .297 lifetime batting average, and a revered spot in his franchise’s lore. But ask anyone the greatest outfielder of the 1950s or ’60s and talk may sooner center on Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, or Mickey Mantle, among so many others. Limit the conversation to right fielders, and some may still sooner give a nod to Roberto Clemente or Frank Robinson or, if we’re simply talking peak value, Roger Maris or Rocky Colavito.

It isn’t Kaline’s fault that he played in perhaps the greatest generation of outfielders in baseball history. He made the most of his opportunity and has a well-deserved Hall of Fame plaque. In a less star-studded era, though, Kaline’s offensive stats might drop but his legacy could be greater.

Era he might have thrived in: If the 1950s and ’60s were the summer blockbuster season of baseball history, the ’70s and ’80s were like August, a time for second-rate action thrillers, sleeper hits, and the occasional box office bomb. Might Al Kaline have been Keanu Reeves in “Chain Reaction” on the Pittsburgh Pirates of this era? Hardly.

Why: With his foot speed and mix of contact and power hitting, Kaline would have excelled on the artificial turf at Three Rivers Stadium in Pittsburgh and a number of other ballparks in these days. Kaline never had the all-out power that came to define baseball in the 1990s, but then, neither did George Brett, Robin Yount, or most other Hall of Famers from their less offensive era. It’s why Mike Schmidt used to lead the National League with less than 40 home runs, one reason why Tony Perez and Jim Rice made Cooperstown with under 400 career home runs and Dwight Evans, Dale Murphy, and Dave Parker could follow suit eventually.

No one would begrudge Kaline hitting .330 with 20 home runs and 100 RBI on a team like the 1979 Pirates. In fact, these numbers and his defense would probably make him one of the best players in the National League. His presence might also make Pittsburgh better longer. For all the joy and warmth the “We Are Family” Pirates evoked beating the Baltimore Orioles in the ’79 World Series, their 1980 club was among baseball’s most historically dysfunctional teams, beset with cocaine abuse. Players like Rod Scurry, Bernie Carbo, and mercurial then-superstar Parker would later figure prominently in the infamous Pittsburgh drug trials of the mid-’80s.

Perhaps a steady, non-assuming person with no hint of scandal during his career, someone like Kaline could have a calming effect on that clubhouse, even if a leader as graceful and respected as Willie Stargell seemingly lost its hold. Who knows, maybe Stargell needed help and someone to assume his mantle with his career winding down. I’ll concede, of course, that Kaline could easily get swept up in the times when players rode the white horse as much as a later generation dabbled in performance enhancers. But I’d like to give Kaline the benefit of the doubt.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature (generally) here that looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.

Others in this series: Al SimmonsAlbert PujolsBabe RuthBad News RockiesBarry BondsBilly BeaneBilly MartinBob CaruthersBob FellerBob WatsonBobby VeachCarl MaysCesar CedenoCharles Victory FaustChris von der AheDenny McLainDom DiMaggioDon DrysdaleDoug GlanvilleEddie LopatElmer FlickEric Davis, Frank HowardFritz MaiselGary CarterGavvy CravathGene TenaceGeorge W. Bush (as commissioner)George CaseGeorge WeissHarmon KillebrewHarry WalkerHome Run BakerHonus WagnerHugh CaseyIchiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jack MorrisJackie Robinson, Jim AbbottJimmy WynnJoe DiMaggioJoe PosnanskiJohnny AntonelliJohnny FrederickJosh GibsonJosh HamiltonKen Griffey Jr.Lefty GroveLefty O’DoulMajor League (1989 film),Mark FidrychMatty AlouMichael JordanMonte IrvinNate ColbertOllie CarnegiePaul DerringerPedro GuerreroPedro MartinezPee Wee ReesePete RosePrince FielderRalph KinerRick AnkielRickey HendersonRoberto ClementeRogers HornsbySam CrawfordSam ThompsonSandy Koufax Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe JacksonSpud ChandlerStan MusialTed WilliamsThe Meusel BrothersTony PhillipsTy CobbVada PinsonWally BunkerWes FerrellWill ClarkWillie Mays

Alternate dream teams

It’s been a long time coming, but after nearly a month, the end of voting for the BPP All-Time Dream Project is less than two days out. The polls close Tuesday at 9 p.m. PST, and for anyone who hasn’t done so already, it’s not too late to pick a nine-player lineup. As I write these words mid-day Monday, votes are still coming in thanks to an SF Chronicle blog post today from one of my mentors, Peter Hartlaub.

I’ve also been emailing in recent weeks with longtime Sports Illustrated writer and editor Robert Creamer, who gave a memorable interview here in January. I’d hoped to get some words from Creamer for the final results post of my dream project on April 15, and while he declined for personal reasons, he got me thinking about something else: alternate lineups. In our emails back and forth, I gave Creamer a peak at the vote leaders, and without giving too much away, he noted some lack of racial diversity among the picks. Creamer had an idea for me yesterday, writing:

how about adding an all white vs an all black team?  or something    could be stimulating.    go a litle nutty — how about an all righthanded white team against an all lefthanded black team.  kind of nutty but baseball is supposed to be fun.

I agree, wholeheartedly. One of the overarching things I try to do here is strive to keep things fun and celebrate the best of baseball. I see it as a good use for a blog, and while I don’t hesitate to write about less-positive subject matter when necessary, I prefer to keep the focus here positive when I can.

In this spirit, here are a few alternate dream lineups. Please feel free to add more in the comments section.

The all-California native or raised team

  • P – Randy Johnson
  • C – Gary Carter
  • 1B – Eddie Murray
  • 2B – Joe Morgan
  • 3B – Evan Longoria
  • SS – Troy Tulowitzki
  • RF – Frank Robinson
  • CF – Joe DiMaggio
  • LF – Ted Williams

The all-5’9″ or below team

  • P – Bobby Shantz
  • C – Roy Campanella
  • 1B – Matty Alou
  • 2B – David Eckstein
  • 3B – Mel Ott
  • SS – Phil Rizzuto
  • RF - Yogi Berra
  • CF – Bob Caruthers
  • LF - Tim Raines
  • PH – Eddie Gaedel

The all Negro League players who never appeared in the majors team

  • P – John Donaldson
  • C – Josh Gibson
  • 1B – Buck Leonard
  • 2B – Frank Grant
  • 3B – Judy Johnson
  • SS – Willie Wells
  • RF – John Beckwith
  • CF – Oscar Charleston
  • LF – Turkey Stearnes

The all-other-sports team

  • P – Bob Gibson or Fergie Jenkins, who played for the Harlem Globetrotters or Tom Glavine, who was drafted by the Los Angeles Kings of the NHL in 1984
  • C – Joe Mauer, named a USA Today high school football player of the year in 2000
  • 1B – Todd Helton, who quarterbacked at Tennessee before Peyton Manning
  • 2B – Jackie Robinson, a track and football standout at UCLA
  • 3B – Drew Henson, who seemingly had the talent to be a star NFL quarterback or a cornerstone for the Yankees but fell short in both capacities
  • SS – Dick Groat, who played in the NBA before helping the Pirates win the 1960 World Series
  • RF – Dave Winfield, drafted in four sports
  • CF – Willie Mays, an accomplished punter and quarterback in high school football; he also averaged 17 points a game in high school basketball
  • LF – Bo Jackson

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? Johnny Murphy

Claim to fame: I’ll start by thanking broadcaster Len Berman for including a link to the BPP All-Time Dream Project in a recent mass email. The link led to votes from about 50 people, including the son of former New York Yankees pitcher Johnny Murphy who emailed and suggested I add a relief pitcher category. I’ve chosen not to do this for the same reason I don’t have a designated hitter or bench players in the project– I don’t want a way for people to jam extra players into their lineups, like sticking Willie Mays in center field and Mickey Mantle at DH. I want people having to make tough decisions. It’s a nine-player dream team for a reason.

That being said, I’m glad the email alerted me to Murphy, who pitched 13 years in the majors between 1932 and 1946, might have been baseball’s first great relief pitcher, and later was general manager of the New York Mets from 1964 until his death in 1970. I sent an email to Frank Graham Jr., whose father covered Murphy as a player. Graham has stories about being around those Bronx Bombers as a kid, and I asked if he’d crossed paths with Murphy. Graham replied:

No, I had no interaction with Fordham Johnny Murphy, though I do remember some of my dad’s ‘dugout’ columns where Lefty Gomez would make some wisecrack about how Murphy pulled him out of a jam so often that their names were being coupled like ham and eggs. That kind of connection was rare in those days, when relievers were often characterized as second-rate pitchers not good enough to make the starting rotation. Branch Rickey was one who thought the value of relief pitchers was overrated– in other words, good pitchers started a game and saved it as well.

Murphy tallied 107 saves in his playing career, similar to an early stolen base champ or Deadball Era home run leader in that he played in a time before his marquee stat was favored, and the more that saves aggregators like Lee Smith, Mariano Rivera, and Trevor Hoffman come to glut the Hall of Fame ballot, the more pioneering relievers like Murphy may be forgotten. That’s a shame, and there ought to be a way for Cooperstown to remedy this.

Current Hall of Fame eligibility: Under new voting rules that took effect prior to the 2011 election, Murphy can be considered for Cooperstown by the Pre-Integration Era section of the Veterans Committee. It meets once every three years and will convene at the Winter Meetings in December.

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? Lest there be any confusion, let me be clear: The point of this column isn’t too mount a case that Murphy needs to be enshrined. I’m a big Hall person, though to me, there are simply too many other players to be honored first, and that includes a couple early relievers. In general, I think Cooperstown has made incomplete note of pioneer closers, relying too much on career saves totals. It gives short shrift to greats like Sparky Lyle and Dan Quisenberry, both men who dominated in their day and would get my vote sooner than Smith.

I don’t feel as strongly about Murphy. Maybe it’s that he played in pinstripes, and plenty of very good Yankees are already enshrined from Waite Hoyt to Joe Gordon to Phil Rizzuto and others. Murphy’s stats also simply don’t beg a plaque, from a 3.50 lifetime ERA and 118 ERA+ to 14.7 career WAR and 1.367 WHIP. Lyle, Quisenberry, and a number of other closers trump those numbers. And I don’t know if Murphy was an executive long enough for it to matter for the Veterans Committee, which considers a man’s total contribution to baseball. I could be wrong here, and if there’s something I’m missing, I encourage comments from anyone reading, including anyone from Murphy’s family.

Do I mean to knock Murphy? Certainly not. Just getting to play an important role on the Yankees of the ’30s and ’40s is awesome. And while I wouldn’t necessarily enshrine pioneer relievers like Murphy, they belong somewhere in the museum, just as I’d highlight early stolen base kings like Maury Wills or Deadball home run hitters like Gavvy Cravath. They all figure notably in baseball’s history. Maybe there’s a relief pitchers exhibit that can include Murphy, if one doesn’t exist already.

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? is a regular feature here.

Others in this series: Adrian BeltreAl OliverAlan TrammellAlbert BelleAlbert PujolsAllie ReynoldsBarry BondsBarry LarkinBert BlylevenBill KingBilly MartinBobby GrichCecil TravisChipper JonesClosersCraig BiggioCurt FloodDan QuisenberryDarrell EvansDave ParkerDick AllenDon Mattingly,Don Newcombe,Dwight EvansGeorge SteinbrennerGeorge Van HaltrenGus GreenleeHarold BainesHarry DaltonJack MorrisJeff BagwellJim EdmondsJoe CarterJoe PosnanskiJohn Smoltz, Jose CansecoJuan GonzalezKeith HernandezKen CaminitiKevin BrownLarry WalkerManny RamirezMaury WillsMel HarderMoises AlouPete Browning,Phil CavarrettaRafael PalmeiroRoberto AlomarRocky Colavito,Roger MarisRon CeyRon GuidryRon SantoSammy SosaSmoky Joe WoodSteve Garvey,Ted SimmonsThurman MunsonTim RainesTony OlivaVince ColemanWill Clark

My favorite baseball photo

This is my favorite baseball photo. My friend Devin is on the left, I’m on the right, and that’s a cutout of Kevin Mitchell behind us. We’re at a game at Candlestick Park for our favorite team, the San Francisco Giants, sometime around the summer of 1990. I must be about seven. There’s a great story behind how this photo came to be.

* * *

I was born in Los Angeles in 1983. My mom’s from Northern California, my natural father’s lived most of his life in London, and when I was a few months old, we moved there. My natural father didn’t treat my mom well, and in September of 1985, she had enough. Telling him one day that she was taking me out to shop for fall clothes, she and I got on a plane instead and returned to California. My memories start a few months later in the living room of my grandparents’ house where we wound up. I remember my mom on the phone with my natural father. I remember wondering why I couldn’t talk to him. I remember the feeling of absence that lingered long after I had new family and friends. It would be 20 years before I saw him again.

Some people bounce from one sick relationship to another. My mom had been 20 when she met my natural father less than a year after dropping out of college to become a stewardess, being swept off her feet by a man at turns charming, manic, and self-destructive. My natural father may be the most enigmatic person I know, and I’ve spent much of my life trying to understand him. It’s one of the reasons I write. But my mom knew enough by her mid-20s to know she needed something different. She got back in college after we returned to California and fell in love with one of her professors, a kind, decent, and steady person. They’ve been married 25 years now.

My mom and dad bought a house on a quiet street in Sacramento a few months before their wedding. I met Devin a year or two later. He was a couple months older than me and lived around the corner with his mom, Nancy and his sister, Kenna. Devin quickly became my best friend, and in my family’s photo albums, we’re climbing trees, visiting amusement parks, and, in one of my favorite pictures, walking around his front yard in a cardboard box. I owe something to Devin and his mom, too.

* * *

When I think about who got me into baseball, I generally credit three people. There’s my grandfather who gave me a 500-page book of baseball history when I was eight which I read over the course of about three months. Then there’s my dad who gave me my first cards when I was three or four and in time, some of the books he’d had growing up. And then there’s Nancy, the tough woman who raised Devin and Kenna as a single parent. Nancy loved the Giants, tuning into their games regularly, and Devin and I followed suit, becoming fans of the World Series contending team San Francisco had at the end of the ’80s and their young stars, Mitchell and Will Clark.

One day at Devin’s house, I noticed a framed picture of him and Clark. It took me aback, and I wanted more information. Oh, Nancy told me, Will just stopped by. She loved to tell me stories like this. Later, I learned there was a cutout display at Candlestick that people could have portraits taken in front of for a fee, $10 or so. I had pins and baseball cards of the All Star first baseman with the black paint smeared under his eyes and the looping, Ted Williams-esque swing. I had a poster on my wall of animated, behemoth versions of Clark and Mark McGwire towering over San Francisco and Oakland for the 1989 World Series, the Battle of the Bay. Now, I had to have the photo as well.

There was one issue: money. It was always tight when I was young in the early years after my mom left my natural father, and while I never lacked for anything I needed, my family often didn’t have 10 extra dollars. I remember going to restaurants and being allowed to order the two cheapest things on the menu. I remember frugal Christmases and birthdays. My mom also was and is an avowed bargain hunter, one of the most savvy people I know at stretching the value of a dollar, and it would be almost antithetical to her to have paid $10 for that picture. But I think the solution that she and Nancy came up with was much better.

***

My mom took the photo atop this page. Candlestick used to allow people to snap their own photos for free from the sides of their displays, and if there’s been one thing I miss with the Giants’ move to a new stadium a decade ago, it’s that such practices are seemingly a distant memory amidst the more upscale culture of AT&T Park. Nancy and my mom both got photos that day, and while I was initially disappointed, since there was no display of Clark and the photo we got of Mitchell, Devin, and myself looked nothing close to real, it’s become one of my favorite childhood photos. Better than any $10 fake photo could, it captures the realities of my youth. Of not having a lot. Of close friendships. Of baseball.

I’m lucky and thankful to have the life that I do, a life filled to this day with family, friendships, and a game that gives me perspective on it all. It’s funny when I think about it. We could have paid $10 that day at Candlestick for an official picture, and I doubt we’d have gotten our money’s worth. I’ve learned that the best things in life, like the photo my mom took, sometimes don’t cost anything.

Help support 826 Valencia with the BPP All-Time Dream Project

Editor’s note: I originally posted this at FirstGiving.com.

_______________

As founder, editor, and writer of a baseball website, I am continually amazed at the collaborative possibilities of the Internet. This is a Golden Age for reading and writing, one where anyone can make their voice heard and be a part of the creative process, one where more great content than ever is produced, much of it free. One of my pleasures operating a website is bringing as many people as I can into the fold and giving them an opportunity to write, and now, I’d like to help an organization with a similar philosophy.

826 Valencia is a non-profit based in San Francisco, with locations across the country that teach journalism to kids ages 6 to 18. While hundreds of volunteers regularly help out, more help is needed. An average of 85 students a day visit the various writing centers, and 826 constantly needs support: $100 buys a week’s worth of supplies for a writing lab; $500 can fund a workshop, and the list of necessities goes on. For more information, please visit 826valencia.org.

I’ve recently launched the BPP All-Time Dream Project having people vote on nine player all-time baseball dream teams. Voting runs through March 27, I’ll be posting results on April 15 in honor of Jackie Robinson Day, and because of the broad appeal of my subject matter, I’d like to make this about more than just honoring a handful of ballplayers. I’m recruiting an All Star lineup of writers for the results post of my project, I’ve hired an illustrator to produce trading cards for the players who get selected, and now, I’d like to give something back. As one man, I can’t do a whole lot on my own, though my experience has been that joining together with others allows for all sorts of possibilities.

I’ll get to the point. I’d like to use the appeal of the BPP All-Time Dream Project to gather donations for 826 Valencia. I’ve set a goal of $3,000 by my publish date, April 15. It’s a modest amount, but I believe it’s enough to make a difference.

Anyone can make a donation by visiting my page at FirstGiving.com.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t offer incentives for donations. Here they are:

Any donation: You’ll be listed in the final results post of my project as a donor to 826 forever noting your generosity.

$25: You’ll receive a free set of original trading cards produced for this post (right now, I’m limiting this to the first 100 people who make this donation, since I’ll be paying out of pocket on shipping.) You’ll also be listed in the final results post of my project as a donor to 826 forever noting your generosity.

$50: You’ll receive an original frameable print that gets produced for this project of the player of your choice. You’ll also be listed in the final results post of the project as a donor to 826 forever noting your generosity.

$75: You get a guaranteed post. I’ll write 1,000 words on a baseball-related subject of your choice for my website or any other. Got a distant relative who played baseball 100 years ago? I’ll research and write about him or her. I’ll illuminate your favorite baseball-related charity. I’ll do everything short of endorse someone for the Hall of Fame or promote hate. I’ll also personally call or email to thank you for your donation. And, of course, you’ll be listed in the final results post of my project as a donor to 826 forever noting your generosity.

That’s all I can think of for now. Please email me at thewomack@gmail.com with any thoughts or feedback. Thanks, and I’m excited to see how this goes.

Sincerely,

Graham Womack, founder and editor

http://baseballpastandpresent.com/

Anyone can make a donation by visiting my page at FirstGiving.com.

Vote: The BPP All-Time Dream Project

Edit 2.28.12, 10:40 a.m. PST: 25 responses and counting. If you haven’t voted, please email me at thewomack@gmail.com for a ballot or go here.

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They’re the greatest baseball debates in history, timeless arguments that continue unabated and still capture public imagination. It’s the age-old question of who’s better: Willie Mays or Mickey Mantle? Babe Ruth or Hank Aaron? Ted Williams or Joe DiMaggio? And the list goes on.

Now, those debates are coming to Baseball: Past and Present.

It is my pleasure to kick off a new project here. We’re calling this one, “The BPP All-Time Dream Project.” It’s pretty simple, really. Imagine a one-off sandlot game and choose any nine players from baseball history: eight position players and one pitcher. There are no designated hitters, relief pitchers, or bench players to be recruited here, no manager to enlist, no 25-man roster to be filled. This is simply about choosing nine players to win a game.

I’ll be providing a check-able ballot with 20 players at each position, which I’ll start sending out this evening via Google Docs Forms, but as always, write-ins are welcomed and encouraged. Any player is eligible, and to keep things interesting, I’ll refrain from campaigning for any players. As always, anyone who’s interested is welcome to participate, and I’ll provide a link in my results post to any baseball blogger who takes part.

Ballots are due by 9 p.m. PST, Tuesday, March 27, the day before the regular season begins. I’ll publish the results on April 15, Jackie Robinson Day, as good a day as any in my book to celebrate the best of baseball history. I’m allowing that much time in between because each of the nine players will be illustrated by Sarah Wiener, known to the Twitter crowd @for_the_sarah, aspiring illustrator extraordinaire. Please feel free to contact me with any questions or feedback between now and April 15.

It may sound as though I’m creating some tough choices for people. The center field portion of the ballot alone will feature Mays, Mantle, and DiMaggio as well as Ty Cobb, Tris Speaker, and Ken Griffey Jr., among others. I have a confession: This is exactly what I’m aiming for.

Any player/Any era: Gary Carter

What he did: It took Gary Carter six tries to be voted into the Hall of Fame. This shouldn’t come as any surprise, given Carter’s stats or the history of the museum. Catchers rarely have an easy time getting into Cooperstown, and Carter would have had slim odds shilling for a plaque at any position with a .262 lifetime batting average, 2,092 hits, and 324 home runs. He’s a player who never hit .300 or walked 100 times in a season, and he topped 30 homers just twice and 100 RBI four times. He also declined precipitously, failing to post an OPS+ of 100 in a full season after age 32, and it’s a wonder he’s in the Hall and so many players whose careers followed similar trajectories are not. And, with all this being said, I’ll add something else about Carter: I think he’s underrated.

In some ways, Carter led a charmed life, playing 19 years in the majors, making the National League All Star team 11 of those years, and establishing himself as one of the nice guys of his sport. But he was unlucky, too, from sustaining a knee injury that nearly ended his career before it started to being diagnosed with terminal brain cancer that ultimately took his life on February 16 at 57. And he played in an era that did his numbers few favors, with his lifetime OPS+ of 115 and WAR of 66.3 hinting at what might have been in a different time. In a more favorable offensive period in baseball history, Carter might have hit somewhere close to .300 for his career and perhaps staked yet a greater hold in the sport’s lore.

Era he might have thrived in: It isn’t difficult to take any hitter and project them with gaudy numbers in the 1930s, the most offensively explosive time in baseball history this side of the Steroid Era or the 1890s (never forget a time where a team can hit .350 and finish fourth.) But other things work in Carter’s favor in the ’30s as well, from defensive skills that would’ve set him apart from his fellow backstops, to proven ability to play well in New York City, to an affable personality that would’ve made him a clubhouse asset in any era, really. The thought here is that playing for the Dodgers in the 1930s, Carter might have been the star Brooklyn so lacked while their crosstown rivals dominated.

Why: The New York Yankees were the team of the ’30s, winning five of 10 World Series in the decade, Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, and Joe DiMaggio all have starring turns for the Bronx Bombers in this time. The Giants weren’t bad either, winning one World Series and appearing in another. The Dodgers, for their part, finished in the second division six of 10 ten years in the ’30s and managed to get three runners on one base one memorable afternoon. So futile were the Dodgers that Giants manager Bill Terry quipped, “Is Brooklyn still in the league?” It enraged Dodger fans, but he had a point.

Part of the problem stemmed from lack of star power. For a franchise that’s boasted icons like the Boys of Summer in the ’40s and ’50s and Sandy Koufax and Don Drysdale in the ’60s, the Dodgers’ Depression Era rosters were largely devoid of big names or talent. Enter Carter, who might have been baseball’s best catcher in a time when Ernie Lombardi, Bill Dickey, and Mickey Cochrane were starring. As a right-handed hitter, Carter would have been ideally suited for Ebbets Field, a bandbox with a short left field porch. I also am curious how Carter might have done playing for Casey Stengel, Yogi Berra’s manager for the majority of his time in pinstripes and a couple decades before that, the skipper for three seasons in Brooklyn. My guess is that whatever Berra learned from Stengel might have helped Carter, too.

Depending on when Carter plays in Brooklyn, he could potentially put up huge numbers. Playing on the ’36 Dodgers, Stengel’s last year in town, Carter’s 1982 season comes out to a modest 30 home runs, 106 RBI, and a .306 batting average with a .940 OPS. On the Dodgers in 1930 however, before the National League changed its ball and eased scoring as Steven Goldman of Baseball Prospectus told me, that ’82 season would be good for 33 home runs, 125 RBI, and a .333 batting average with a 1.004 OPS. Whatever the case, Carter would surely see a boost.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature here that looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.

Others in this series: Al SimmonsAlbert PujolsBabe RuthBad News RockiesBarry BondsBilly BeaneBilly MartinBob CaruthersBob FellerBob WatsonBobby VeachCarl MaysCesar CedenoCharles Victory FaustChris von der AheDenny McLainDom DiMaggioDon DrysdaleDoug GlanvilleEddie LopatElmer FlickFrank HowardFritz MaiselGavvy CravathGene TenaceGeorge W. Bush (as commissioner)George CaseGeorge WeissHarmon KillebrewHarry WalkerHome Run BakerHonus WagnerHugh CaseyIchiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jack MorrisJackie Robinson, Jim AbbottJimmy WynnJoe DiMaggioJoe PosnanskiJohnny AntonelliJohnny FrederickJosh GibsonJosh HamiltonKen Griffey Jr.Lefty GroveLefty O’DoulMajor League (1989 film), Mark FidrychMatty AlouMichael JordanMonte IrvinNate ColbertOllie CarnegiePaul DerringerPedro GuerreroPedro MartinezPee Wee ReesePete RosePrince FielderRalph KinerRick AnkielRickey HendersonRoberto ClementeRogers HornsbySam CrawfordSam ThompsonSandy Koufax Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe JacksonStan MusialTed WilliamsThe Meusel BrothersTony PhillipsTy CobbVada PinsonWally BunkerWes FerrellWill ClarkWillie Mays

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? Sammy Sosa

Claim to fame: I seem to be repeating variations of the following phrase ad nauseam, but here goes again. In about nine months, the Baseball Writers Association of America will begin voting on the most controversial Hall of Fame ballot in recent memory. Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens will inspire volumes of copy as writers publicly rationalize why they are or are not voting for them or anyone else thought to have used steroids. Holdovers like Jack Morris and Tim Raines will have impassioned cases made on their behalves by supporters, and Craig Biggio might be the only player enshrined by acclimation thanks to his 3,000 hits. It’s a bad year to be anyone besides Biggio on the upcoming ballot, something of a dog pile. It’s a bad year to be Sammy Sosa.

With all the noise surrounding Bonds, Clemens, and everyone else who will appear on this ballot, I suspect Sosa may get the quietest consideration from the writers a 600-home-run hitter has ever received. Revelations in 2009 by the New York Times that Sosa flunked a steroid test in 2003 wouldn’t help him even with a weaker ballot. On this one, though, I’m guessing he’ll get 10 or 20 percent of the vote his first time out. It wouldn’t stun me if Sosa fails to receive 5 percent of the vote and falls off the ballot. While I’m guessing the same 20 percent of the electorate that’s steadfastly voted for Mark McGwire his six years on the ballot might also be willing to support his partner in the 1998 chase for the home run record, all bets could be off with the upcoming vote.

Current Hall of Fame eligibility: Reports out of Oakland say soon-to-be-40-year-old Manny Ramirez has inked a minor league deal, and I’ll admit I wonder what the effect would have been for Sosa if he’d done likewise in 2008 or ’09. Certainly, he didn’t look terrible at the plate his last year in the show, 2007, hitting 21 home runs and driving in 92 runs with an OPS+ of 101 (though his WAR was admittedly lousy, 0.4.) If Sosa had found work thereafter, it’d be another year at least until he was eligible for the writers ballot, and he might debut to more favorable circumstances; I suspect the landscape will change drastically the longer worthy candidates get the shaft from the BBWAA over steroids. As it stands, Sosa has a maximum of 15 years on the ballot and needs 75 percent of the vote for a plaque.

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? I’ve undergone a huge shift in my thinking. Maybe even a year ago, I was staunchly against the Hall of Fame honoring anyone connected to steroids. In general, I used to be more of a small Hall person, wanting the museum to be reserved for only the most stellar of candidates. But the more I’ve written about Cooperstown, the more inclusive I’ve become about the place, the more I’ve wanted it to be something that captures all of baseball’s history. And the more I’ve thought and talked with others about steroids, the more I’ve come to think they were simply a part of baseball, no different than all-white play in the 1940s and before, amphetamines in the 1960s, cocaine in the 1980s. Every generation of baseball has its sordid details, and to deny them is to deny a part of the game.

Let me be clear: I don’t like steroids, and I hope they never return to the game. I don’t like that a generation of players was faced with the decision of using to keep up. I think it’s reprehensible Major League Baseball allowed this to happen, and it will be tragic the first time an ex-big leaguer dies before his time because he used. Still, though, for 10, maybe 15 years, steroids and gargantuan power numbers were a fundamental part of the game. And for better or worse, Sosa was at the core of this. He slugged as well as very few other members of his generation did, averaging better than 60 home runs a season from 1998 through 2001, and for better or worse, he highlighted his era. I’m guessing Sosa will be a largely forgotten man on the Hall of Fame ballot this year. It will be a pity the longer this remains.

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame? is a Tuesday feature here.

Others in this series: Adrian BeltreAl OliverAlan TrammellAlbert BelleAlbert PujolsAllie ReynoldsBarry BondsBarry LarkinBert BlylevenBill KingBilly MartinBobby GrichCecil TravisChipper JonesClosersCraig BiggioCurt FloodDan QuisenberryDarrell EvansDave ParkerDick AllenDon Mattingly,Don Newcombe, Dwight EvansGeorge SteinbrennerGeorge Van HaltrenGus GreenleeHarold BainesHarry DaltonJack MorrisJeff BagwellJim EdmondsJoe CarterJoe PosnanskiJohn SmoltzJuan GonzalezKeith HernandezKen CaminitiKevin BrownLarry WalkerManny RamirezMaury WillsMel HarderMoises AlouPete Browning,Phil CavarrettaRafael PalmeiroRoberto AlomarRocky Colavito,Roger MarisRon CeyRon GuidryRon SantoSmoky Joe WoodSteve Garvey,Ted SimmonsThurman MunsonTim RainesTony OlivaVince ColemanWill Clark

Any player/Any era: Mark Fidrych

What he did: I’m a few days late on this column, so forgive me if seems passé. I’ve been wanting to write about Knicks point guard Jeremy Lin, who recently came out of nowhere to lead New York on a seven-game winning streak. Athletes emerge from obscurity periodically to star, whether it’s sixth-round draft pick Tom Brady filling in for an injured Drew Bledsoe and leading the New England Patriots to Super Bowl glory or Florence Griffith-Joyner quitting a job at a bank to become a gold medal sprinter. And it’s happened before in baseball. I’m reminded of Hideo Nomo, who was a star in Japan but a little-known player stateside before coming to the majors in 1995 and propelling the Los Angeles Dodgers to the top of the National League West. There have been others like him in baseball, too.

Lin has been all the buzz the last couple of weeks online, and a few days ago, Marcos Breton of the Sacramento Bee Tweeted about him. Marcos (@marcosbreton) wrote:

I’m dating myself, but I don’t think I’ve seen anything in sports like Jeremy Lin since Mark “the Bird” Fidrych back in the 1970s #Linsanity

It’s an interesting idea, with Breton going on to note that Fidrych had similarly humble beginnings, capitalizing on a non-roster invitation to spring training in 1976 to go 19-9 and start in the All Star game. Joe Guzzardi wrote here in 2010 of seeing Fidrych pitch that year, not long after the rookie captured the public’s imagination in a 5-1 win over the Yankees on ABC’s Monday Night Baseball. There are some key differences between Fidrych and Lin, most notably that Fidrych’s presence didn’t change much for the Tigers who were in a lull between having World Series-caliber teams in the late ’60s and 1980s. Still, it got me thinking about Fidrych, another player who would have benefited in an era better suited to his talents.

Era he might have thrived in: Fidrych’s numbers read like a cautionary tale against throwing young hurlers into the fray too early, with more than half of his career wins, innings, and strikeouts coming in that dazzling ’76 season. He tore his rotator cuff the following year, and while the injury wouldn’t be diagnosed until 1985, he won just 10 games his remaining four seasons. Fidrych belongs in the baseball history books with Denny McLain, Smoky Joe Wood, and other pitchers who were essentially done by 25. Wood later reinvented himself as an outfielder, and while the jury’s out on if Fidrych could have done likewise, I’d see him having a longer career debuting with a club more welcoming to young hurlers. The Atlanta Braves of the 1990s and San Francisco Giants of the past several years come to mind.

Why: It’s all too common for teams to push talented newcomers too hard, and I suppose this makes sense in that clubs have to do their best to win with the players they have. Still, I only wonder how long it will be before Lin wears down playing 38 minutes a night. Baseball’s past is littered with pitchers who perhaps wouldn’t have crashed so soon with better handling early on, from past subject and ’60s phenom Wally Bunker to Mark Prior and Kerry Wood in recent years. Occasionally, guys like Bob Feller buck the trend and forge Hall of Fame careers, but these cases are few and far between. More often, young hurlers get used up before their time.

I’d like to think baseball is becoming more responsible in this regard, with writers like Tom Verducci cautioning against increasing the workloads of pitchers under the age of 25 more than 30 innings from year-to-year. And certain clubs, like the aforementioned Braves and Giants have been bastions for young hurlers, with former Atlanta stars Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, and John Smoltz looking destined for Cooperstown and current Giant rotation anchors Tim Lincecum and Matt Cain each having a reasonable shot to be enshrined. It’s a credit in part, I think, to good coaching and to these pitchers being on teams where they weren’t the only options. Fidrych might have benefited from either of these things or from pitching today when he’d have better medical care and less of a chance to throw 250 innings his rookie season.

As it stands, Fidrych exists in baseball lore as a curiosity, a feather-haired goof who appeared on the cover of Sports Illustrated with his Sesame Street doppelganger Big Bird. Here’s hoping Lin finds more lasting success.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature here that looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.

Others in this series: Al SimmonsAlbert PujolsBabe RuthBad News RockiesBarry BondsBilly BeaneBilly MartinBob CaruthersBob FellerBob WatsonBobby VeachCarl MaysCesar CedenoCharles Victory FaustChris von der AheDenny McLainDom DiMaggioDon DrysdaleDoug GlanvilleEddie LopatElmer FlickFrank HowardFritz MaiselGavvy CravathGene TenaceGeorge W. Bush (as commissioner)George CaseGeorge WeissHarmon KillebrewHarry WalkerHome Run BakerHonus WagnerHugh CaseyIchiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jack MorrisJackie Robinson, Jim AbbottJimmy WynnJoe DiMaggioJoe PosnanskiJohnny AntonelliJohnny FrederickJosh GibsonJosh HamiltonKen Griffey Jr.Lefty GroveLefty O’DoulMajor League (1989 film)Matty AlouMichael JordanMonte IrvinNate ColbertOllie CarnegiePaul DerringerPedro GuerreroPedro MartinezPee Wee ReesePete RosePrince FielderRalph KinerRick AnkielRickey HendersonRoberto ClementeRogers HornsbySam CrawfordSam ThompsonSandy Koufax Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe JacksonStan MusialTed WilliamsThe Meusel Brothers, Tony PhillipsTy CobbVada PinsonWally BunkerWes FerrellWill ClarkWillie Mays

A list of baseball research tools from John Thorn

I have a confession, one that I doubt makes me different than countless other baseball bloggers, but a confession nevertheless. Too often, what I call research for this site basically consists of me going to Baseball-Reference.com, Wikipedia, or the SABR BioProject. I combine this perhaps with references to a handful of great baseball books, the occasional interview, and a healthy dose of my opinions, assorted knowledge, and analysis, and most times, it equals a readable post. I get nice feedback for this site, but I also know I’ll need to go deeper in my research in order to write about baseball professionally. Right now, I feel a bit lazy in what I do here and that there’s not a whole lot to set my work apart.

Spurred on by these thoughts, I sent an email last week to official Major League Baseball historian and prolific baseball writer John Thorn. I’ve corresponded with Thorn for the past couple of years and even interviewed him by phone after he got the MLB historian position. Since he took that job in March 2011, Thorn’s been writing a baseball history blog, Our Game for MLB.com, and to anyone who hasn’t checked it out, I recommend it. I’m impressed by the amount of information Thorn packs into his posts, as rich in anecdotes of any baseball history site that I know. Wanting to know more about how he does it, I emailed Thorn, asking for whatever he could offer about his methodology and anything in general to point me in the right direction.

Thorn replied:

Well, Graham, you have to start with a few basic books of baseball history, including (ahem) Baseball in the Garden of Eden. See, for example: http://thebrowser.com/interviews/john-thorn-on-baseball?page=full

Seymour, Voigt, and Charlie Alexander are all good. Bill James’s Historical Abstract is entertaining but a curio unless you’ve read widely beforehand, IMHO.

Consider the newspaper archives at:

Google News
NY Times
Sporting News (available through SABR)
Sporting Life, Baseball Magazine (at la84.org)
California Historical Newspapers

and paid services such as:

newspaperarchive.com
genealogybank.com
ancestry.com
fold3.com

That’ll get you started!

I appreciate Thorn taking the time to share this list. I’d like to encourage anyone reading to add to it, both for my own edification and for any other would-be baseball researcher or writer who’d happen by this page. I know I still have a lot to learn, but with help, I also know I can get there.