Author: Graham Womack

By all appearances, Ernie Fazio is doing well.

Decades removed from baseball, the former Houston Colt .45’s and Kansas City Athletics infielder lives in Alamo, California in a sprawling house currently listing for $1.5 million. This past weekend found him celebrating news of his daughter’s engagement to a son of former Oakland Raiders offensive tackle John Vella. At 68, Fazio says he is in good health and looks it too.

So why did Fazio sue Major League Baseball? Fazio is among 872 players who don’t qualify for a pension or health benefits. I learned of Fazio from Douglas J. Gladstone’s book, A Bitter Cup of Coffee, available on his Web site, which follows these ballplayers’ efforts to obtain benefits. Fazio has a good life. Not every player in the book is so lucky.

Fazio said he’s been involved for two years in a lawsuit for benefits. Prior to that, Fazio was a lead plaintiff in an unsuccessful 2003 suit against baseball. “I’m doing it for the other players,” Fazio told me during an interview at his home Monday. “Everybody that played in the major leagues should be vested.”

Starting in 1947, baseball offered pensions to any player with five years service. In 1969, this was lowered to four years. Then in 1980, the stipulation for vesting changed to one day of service for health benefits and 43 days for a retirement allowance. But the changes weren’t retroactive, so Fazio and others who played less than four years between 1947 and 1979 got nothing. Their brief careers were what’s termed in baseball as cups of coffee, and Gladstone writes, “One might even suggest that these men gulped bitter cups of coffee.”

Fazio received $100,000 from Houston upon signing in 1962, and he said he invested, which helped him buy his house 35 years ago. He’s worked primarily in sanitation since leaving baseball. Other players affected have had varying levels of success. Some stories are moving: men disabled from playing, others facing illnesses without help from baseball.

Count Gladstone among their supporters– his views are clear from the outset of his polemical, engaging book. Gladstone told me independent houses were interested in publishing his 192-page work in 2011 but he chose to self-publish in April because time matters. Dave Marash writes in the foreword:

This is all about 874 former players, all of them now at least middle-aged. None will ever play again, and every year, they are dying off…. And, as of now, they are getting little or nothing from the game they loved. Fixing this inadvertent injustice can be done, if both the owners and [the] players decide to do it. It will cost them marginal money to do so. They say they’ll look at it in their next 2011 negotiation, but they should stop looking and start acting now. A simple side agreement could be executed anytime.

I admire Gladstone’s advocacy, though I have less faith the economics would be simple, especially in these tough times. Giving 900 men, say, a $5,000 pension would cost $4.5 million annually, even if this would gradually decrease to nothing as players die. As Gladstone writes, baseball has no legal obligation to provide assistance, and while it would be admirable, I understand why it wouldn’t be feasible.

I support universal health care, though and until America does too, I think baseball should help its former players. I understand this is a polarizing issue, and I generally strive to keep this site free of politics, though I will say that to stand idly by while non-vested players grapple with medical woes doesn’t just seem petty, cheap, or cold. It seems inhumane.

Baseball could grant medical coverage to these men– it can do whatever it wants, really– or if it insists on following the 1980 agreement, I have another idea: Why not give the non-vested players another cup of coffee?

As mentioned earlier, it takes one day in the majors for someone to qualify for lifetime medical coverage. There are currently 872 non-vested former players and 30 big league teams, so in September, when rosters expand from 25 players to 40, each team could offer these men one-day gigs as coaches or even inactive players. It would mirror an event Gladstone writes of when teams gave signing bonuses to former Negro League players who fell short of vesting requirements. Under my idea, with each team helping about 30 players over the season’s final month, this could get knocked out by playoff time next year.

It might not be quite what Gladstone, Fazio, and others are aiming for. But this cup of coffee wouldn’t be nearly so bitter.

Related: A recent interview Gladstone gave to CBS News

What he did: During a Baseball Think Factory forum discussion about my piece on Shoeless Joe Jackson last week, a member referenced Caruthers. The member wrote:

I wish this guy would do Parisian Bob Caruthers. A modern World Series, before the expanded playoffs, would have suited him down to the ground; he could have been Reggie Jackson and Jack Morris in the same series. Obviously in a regular season he’d have to pace himself and so would be less spectacular, but in a short series he might well be uniquely responsible for his side’s victory.

In his career spanning 1884-1893, Caruthers went 218-99 as a pitcher, leading the American Association with 40 wins two times. He also hit .282 lifetime as a sometime outfielder, twice hitting better than .330 and even stealing 49 bases and hitting 11 triples in 1887. As I told the member, I’m happy to feature Caruthers.

Era he could have thrived in: One of my regular readers pointed out that at 5’7″ and 130 pounds, Caruthers might not make the majors today. But with the 2002 World Series champion Anaheim Angels, I think Caruthers could have been an outfield equivalent of another 5’7″ player, David Eckstein. Only Caruthers might add pitching ability to the mix.

Why: Offensively, Eckstein is everything Caruthers could hope to be, a little guy undrafted out of high school and a walk-on in college who’s put together a 10-season career with a .281 lifetime average. Eckstein’s proof ballplayers needn’t always be 6’2″ and 200 pounds, though I’m guessing Caruthers might bulk up to somewhere around Eckstein’s 175 pounds. Each man also boasts reasonable speed.

Pitching-wise, I figure Caruthers was good enough in his day to qualify for at least a bullpen spot or occasional start today. Granted, the 1880s offered vastly inferior talent, particularly in the American Association where Caruthers did best, so I don’t know if he would win 20 today or how his velocity would project. But it seems illogical a man could be an ace in one era and not even big league material in another (the forum member likened Caruthers to Eddie Plank in an email he sent me.) I’d venture the Nationals, Pirates, and Royals have done worse than Caruthers in recent years. If they had a time traveling phone booth, à la Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure and plucked Caruthers off a latter day mound, they might improve.

The question remains: Would Caruthers provide World Series heroics? Eckstein did. After modest success in the 2002 divisional playoffs and American League Championship Series, Eckstein hit .310 in the series, scoring six runs as the Angels triumphed. Could Caruthers compare? While I don’t know much about Caruthers beyond his stats, his Baseball-Reference bio mentions he pitched the winning game in the 1886 equivalent of the World Series, after posting mixed results in earlier games. So who knows. I will say that I think clutch ability is one of the few things in baseball that projects no matter the era. If Caruthers had it then, he’d have it now.

There’s one other thing worth mentioning. John Thorn, a prolific baseball author and an expert on baseball’s early days, mentioned Caruthers in an email exchange we had in July about players who pitched and hit. In preparing for this post, I emailed Thorn on Monday, and he replied, “If you like Bob Caruthers, you’ll love Guy Hecker. Check him out.”

At 6’0″ and 190 pounds, Hecker had size, and at quick glance, he might be the only player besides Babe Ruth to lead the league in both ERA and batting average. In the modern era, I suppose Hecker might eclipse Eckstein and Caruthers.

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: Albert Pujols, Barry Bonds, Dom DiMaggio, Fritz Maisel, George Case, Harmon Killebrew, Home Run Baker, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Nate Colbert, Pete Rose, Rickey Henderson, Sandy Koufax, Shoeless Joe Jackson, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb

What he did: The man nicknamed Shoeless Joe is one of the all-time greats. Say what you will about his involvement in throwing the 1919 World Series, which cost him a spot in the Hall of Fame, but Jackson hit for average, fielded impeccably, and even ran the bases well, stealing at least 20 bases five times and peaking with 41 steals in 1911. The only thing Jackson couldn’t do was hit for power. In another era, he might have hit more than 54 home runs lifetime. In fact, I think Jackson could have been a Triple Crown winner.

Era he might have thrived in: Jackson is probably one of those few legends who would have stood out at pretty much any point in baseball history. With the Red Sox in the late ’30s and early ’40s, Jackson could have been Ted Williams with greater speed and fielding ability. In the ’50s and ’60s, Jackson might have been a five tool player comparable to Willie Mays or Mickey Mantle. And with the current Texas Rangers, I would liken Jackson to another sweet-swinging lefty and Triple Crown threat, Josh Hamilton.

Why: I see Hamilton and I can’t help but think of Jackson. In many ways, Hamilton seems his modern equivalent. Both are Southerners. Both were exiled from baseball, Hamilton temporarily to deal with drug problems, Jackson permanently because of the Black Sox Scandal. In terms of playing ability, both hit similarly sweet from the left side and possessed supreme talent. I think if Jackson were playing today, Hamilton is the player he might resemble most closely.

Hamilton returned to the game in 2007 with the Reds, was traded to the Rangers before the following season and blossomed into a star. Texas has been his promised land. Considering Hamilton’s .395 home batting average this year, I can only imagine what Jackson would hit there. I’m thinking his home batting average might approach .500. After all, Jackson hit better than .350 six seasons, peaked at .408 in 1911, and hit .356 lifetime, third-best all-time behind Ty Cobb and Rogers Hornsby. And Jackson did that against Deadball Era pitching.

So I think Jackson’s batting average today would be just as good, if not better. I also think he’d have better power numbers, playing with a livelier ball and in a park like Texas. I think the park would have the same effect on Jackson it’s had on Hamilton and that Shoeless Joe would have similar slugging stats: maybe 30 home runs and a ton of RBI. Of course, if Jackson had stayed in baseball, a spike in his numbers may have come in his own era.

Jackson posted career highs of 12 home runs and 121 RBI in 1920, his last year before being banned. That year, Babe Ruth topped 50 home runs for the first time and helped revolutionize baseball, with the number of home runs in the American League increasing nearly 50 percent by 1925. Mike Lynch of Seamheads.com told me recently that in a What If-style book he wrote on the 1919 White Sox, Jackson posted a slugging percentage ranging between .512 and .591 from 1921 through 1924. One can only wonder what might have been.

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: Albert Pujols, Barry Bonds, Dom DiMaggio, Fritz Maisel, George Case, Harmon Killebrew, Home Run Baker, Johnny Frederick, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Nate Colbert, Pete Rose, Rickey Henderson, Sandy Koufax, The Meusel Brothers, Ty Cobb

[Editor’s note: Joe Guzzardi’s usual Wednesday guest post will appear on Friday this week.]

Upon hearing news that Roy Halladay won his 20th game on Tuesday, I began to make a list. Halladay is the latest addition to a small club: pitchers who won 20 games their first year in a new league after playing in the other circuit. Making a quick run of Baseball-Reference.com, I found ten men who have accomplished this in the National or American League since the founding of the second league in 1901.

These pitchers are:

Roy Halladay: The newcomer here, Halladay looks like the odds-on favorite for National League Cy Young this year, as he’s now 20-10 with a 2.53 ERA. Halladay received an American League Cy Young and six All Star nods over his 12 seasons with Toronto before coming to the Phillies in a December 2009 trade.

Fergie Jenkins: The future Hall of Famer won 20 games six straight years for the Cubs early in his career then faltered in 1973 to 14-16 with a 3.89 ERA and was dealt in the offseason to the Rangers. Jenkins proceeded to go 25-12 with a 2.82 ERA in 1974, winning the American League Cy Young.

Gaylord Perry: The Giants packaged Perry and another player for five-time strikeout champion Sam McDowell in November 171 and it haunted them. McDowell went 10-8 with a 4.33 ERA in 1972 and was gone from San Francisco within another year, while Perry won 180 more games in his career and two Cy Youngs. The first of these came with the Indians in 1972 when Perry went 24-16 with a 1.92 ERA.

Mike Cuellar: A promising pitcher for the Astros and an All Star in 1967, Cuellar became an a powerhouse with his trade to the Orioles in December 1968. Cuellar won 20 games his first three seasons in Baltimore and shared the 1969 Cy Young with Denny McLain.

Carl Mays: Despite going 208-126 with a 2.92 ERA, Mays was notorious for throwing the pitch that killed Ray Chapman in 1920 and for allegedly fixing games in the 1921 and 1922 World Series, as recounted by longtime sportswriter Fred Lieb in his 1977 memoir, Baseball As I Have Known It. Lieb wrote of how the Yankees asked for waivers on Mays following the 1923 World Series and how Yankee skipper Miller Huggins wrote to Mays’ new manager, Garry Herrmann of the Reds, “I may be sending you the best pitcher I have, but I warn you that Carl is a troublemaker and always will be a hard man to sign.” Mays went 20-9 in 1924 for Cincinnati, had one more good season, and was effectively done.

Jack Chesbro: Chesbro’s 21 wins for the New York Highlanders in 1903 were seven less than what he posted for the Pirates the year before, though he more than made up for it by going 41-12 with a 1.82 ERA for New York in 1904. The win total is a record in the modern era.

Cy Young, Joe McGinnity, Chick Fraser, Clark Griffith: I group these pitchers together as they were the men who won 20 games the first year of the American League, 1901, after they jumped over from National League clubs.

Related: Fantastic finishes: Pitchers who won 20 games in their final season

Last weekend, Pete Rose got a one-day reprieve from his lifetime ban from baseball so he could celebrate the 25-year anniversary of breaking the all-time hit record. It was a nice gesture from Major League Baseball, though too little, too late for a player punished cruelly. Rose got banned in 1989 for betting on baseball and is among a small group of players formally barred. Every so often, a ballplayer is informally shunned as well.

Here are four men who were never officially banished, but effectively may have been:

Mike Marshall: In March 1981, Jim Bouton issued a follow-up to his bestseller, Ball Four. In it, he wrote of his former Seattle Pilots teammate who had been released by the Twins at the end of the 1980 season and not yet picked up by another team. Bouton wrote:

Why would the Twins release a guy they still had to pay for two more years, who had won or saved 31 games for them as recently as 1978? And why hasn’t any other team signed this 39-year-old physical fitness expert who could probably pitch for another five years?

Well, because baseball hasn’t changed that much. Everybody but the Baseball Commissioner suspects the owners want to keep Marshall, a militant leader, out of the Player’s Association. His release keeps him off the very important joint study committee working on the question of free agent compensation. Also, Marshall has been heard to say that when Marvin Miller retires, he would like a shot at Marvin’s job. If there’s anyone the owners fear more than Marvin, it’s Mike.

Marshall finally found a team to sign him for 1981 on August 19, weeks after the strike that year ended. It doesn’t seem coincidental to me that Marshall was team-less before, which likely kept him out of strike negotiations. Despite going 3-2 with a 2.61 ERA for the New York Mets for the rest of the season, Marshall was released in October and gone from baseball.

Carl Furillo: In another baseball classic, The Boys of Summer, Roger Kahn detailed the lives of former Brooklyn Dodger greats, about a decade beyond their careers. Kahn located the former rightfielder installing elevator doors in the old World Trade Center, then under construction.

The Dodgers released Furillo at 38 in 1960, and he sued because he was injured at the time and the club refused to pay the balance of his contract, which violated its terms. While the legal matter was pending, Furillo wrote to 18 teams in the spring of 1961 offering to pinch-hit or play. No one signed him.

Kahn wrote:

If one thinks of blacklist in terms of the old McCarthyism when the three television networks in concert refused to employ writers or actors with a so-called radical past, then Carl Furillo was not blacklisted. As far as anyone can learn, the owners of the eighteen major league clubs operating in 1961 did not collectively refuse to hire him. What they did was react in a patterned way. Here was one more old star who wanted to pinch-hit and coach. He could have qualified marginally, but once he sued, people in baseball’s conformist ambiance decided he was a ‘Bolshevik.’ Hiring him at thirty-nine was not worth the potential trouble. Walter O’Malley was no Borgia, plotting to bar Furillo from the game. Only Furillo’s decision to hire lawyers was at play. The existential result was identical.

Dave Kingman: I heard Susan Fornoff speak at a SABR meeting in Sacramento in July. Fornoff helped get female reporters admitted into locker rooms in the 1980s, and she said at the meeting that Kingman sent her a rat in the press box. The A’s released Kingman subsequently, he never played again in the majors, and he later sued Major League Baseball for collusion and got some money. Fornoff told us, “I think baseball can collude pretty easily.”

Rafael Palmeiro: Several players connected to steroids have seemingly been excised from the game, from Jose Canseco to Barry Bonds to Roger Clemens. Perhaps no one had as much left as Palmeiro, who played just seven games after an August 2005 suspension for a positive steroid test. Palmeiro hit .266 in 2005, was starting until the time of his suspension, and would have been 41 to start 2006. It doesn’t seem unreasonable to think he could have been a designated hitter for another year or two.

Related: Time for baseball to call an amnesty on Pete Rose and Shoeless Joe

What he did: If ever a baseball superstar played in precisely the wrong era for his skill set and temperament, it was Barry Bonds. Sure, one could glance at his power numbers after he probably started taking performance enhancing drugs and think they helped him. He might not have broken the single-season and career home run records unaided. But as Bonds approaches his fourth year under federal indictment, it seems like no ballplayer has lost more because of steroids, needlessly.

Bonds was one of the best in baseball clean, a rare player who could hit for average and power, run fast, and field well.  According to Game of Shadows, Bonds started using after watching Mark McGwire’s record-breaking 1998 season. Steroids inflated Bonds’ average and power, but they also added bulk, limiting his speed and defensive range. They also set him up for legal problems.

Imagine if Bonds played in an era where he never would’ve been presented with the decision to use, where there would have been no artificially bulked-up sluggers to envy, where weightlifting hadn’t even entered the game. Imagine if Bonds played before steroids.

Era he might have thrived in: Legions of Giants fans supported Bonds at his peak. I know another time this might have occurred: In the early 1920s, with the New York Giants (assuming we suspend disbelief about Bonds’ skin color keeping him from playing.)

Why: With his talents, Bonds could have shined in many eras. In the 1960s, he’d have rivaled his godfather Willie Mays. In the Deadball Era, he might have hit close to .400 or racked up gaudy stolen base totals. But I like the idea of him on the Giants of the early ’20s for a few reasons.

First, as the film Jews and Baseball: An American Love Story noted, those Giants wanted an ethnic slugger to rival the Yankees and Babe Ruth. In 1923, they signed a Jewish right fielder named Mose Solomon, who appeared in two games, got into a salary dispute, and never played again. Like Solomon, Bonds would have appealed to a large potential fan base. The Polo Grounds was near Harlem, and by the ’20s, the neighborhood was largely black. Bonds could have been one of its heroes.

Granted, I don’t know how Bonds would have interacted with his manager in New York, John McGraw, given that Bonds and Jim Leyland had some epic shouting matches in Pittsburgh. I’m also not sure how Bonds would coexist with the New York media. But there are other reasons this could work.

Like Solomon, Bonds hit left-handed and could have exploited the right field short porch at the Polo Grounds, which ran 258 feet to the foul pole. The vast expanses over the middle of the outfield could have provided Bonds with massive numbers of triples and a few inside-the-park home runs. And for a player who sometimes worked with little lineup protection, Bonds would have been on a 1923 Giants club that hit .295 and lost to the Yankees in the World Series.

A regular reader sent me converted stats from Baseball-Reference for Bonds playing every season of his career on a team like the 1923 Giants. While I discount the converted later seasons, since I believe those are a reflection of steroid-aided numbers, I think Bonds’ totals from his early seasons are telling. The stat converter has the Bonds of 1992 and 1993 posting back-to-back years with at least a .350 batting average, 40 home runs, and 120 RBI for New York.

I’m guessing Bonds would be good for 30-40 home runs annually with roughly the same career longevity, 20 or so seasons. That comes out to about 700 home runs. Legitimate ones.

Any player/Any era is a Thursday feature here that debuted June 3 and looks at how a player might have done in an era besides his own.