Baseball: Past and Present

When Oakland A’s general manager Billy Beane signed Cuban prospect Yoenis Cespedes to a $36 million, four year contract, I immediately thought back to a simpler time.

During the 1952 Christmas season, the famous Chicago White Sox G.M. Frank “The Trader” Lane set off for Cuba with four blank contracts in his brief case. Lane intended to sign two of his major league roster players, Saturnino Orestes “Minnie” Minoso and pitcher Mike Fornieles. Lane also hoped to sew up two role players, third sacker (and bench warmer) Hector Rodriguez and relief pitcher Luis “Witto” Aloma. The quartet played winter ball in the Cuban League.

Lane secured contracts only from Rodriguez and Aloma. Upon his return to Chicago, Lane speculated that Minoso may be a hold out. But when he was questioned about that possibility, Minoso asked:

Hold out? What in the world is that? I am not a hold out whatever it is. I like to play ball but I want my money. The club offered me only $3,000 raise over what I got in 1952 and I think I am entitled to more.

Fornieles, recently traded from the Washington Senators in exchange for Chuck Stobbs, took the same position. After Lane reportedly offered $5,000, Fornieles said:

After I pay my taxes and spend a lot in Chicago living like a big leaguer, I will have only $500 a month left. I don’t think that is big league pay.

Poor timing victimized Lane. At the time of his Cuba visit, the Marianao teammates were dominating the league. Minoso was second in batting, hitting an impressive .360. Fornieles’ record stood at a tidy 7-3.

The week after Lane left, the Cuban League named Minoso and Fornieles Players of the Year; Minoso won the top veteran award; Forneieles, best rookie.

Lane and his players eventually settled their disputes. In 1953, Fornieles posted a respectable 8-7, 3.59 ERA record; Minoso added 32 points to his 1952 average to end the season at .313, fourth highest in the American League, and knocked in 104.

In 2003 Minoso, then 78-years-old, made a pinch hit appearance for the Independent Northern League St. Paul Saints and drew a walk. With his at bat, Minoso became the first ever seven- decade professional baseball player. Minoso broke in with the Cleveland Indians in 1949.

During his career Minoso, the White Sox first black player, never earned more than $40,000. Fornieles died in 1998 in St. Petersburg, Florida; Minoso, a 10 time All Star, lives in the Chicago area.

Editor’s note: Please welcome the latest from Alex Putterman.

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He hit fewer career home runs than Earl Torgeson, collected fewer hits than Jermaine Dye, and slugged worse than Jay Gibbons while reaching base less often than Ron LeFlore. He posted a lifetime OPS+ equal to that of Lee Mazzilli and Rob Deer and was worth fewer Wins Above Replacement than Ossie Bluege, Bing Miller, Chief Zimmer, and a legion of other guys with funny names you’ve probably never heard of. His top similarity score on Baseball-Reference is Bob Watson, followed closely by Frank McCormick.

Yet George “High Pockets” Kelly is a member of the National Baseball Hall of Fame, inducted by the Veterans Committee in 1973. He was praised as a brilliant defensive first baseman, the finest Frankie Frisch had ever seen, and considered particularly apt at driving in runs, but his résumé certainly doesn’t suggest him Cooperstown-worthy. Most who saw Kelly play didn’t seem to think so either; he received a single vote his first time on the BBWAA ballot in 1947, and in ensuing years would only once collect more than two (five in 1960).

Nor do statistics support Kelly’s case. He had neither tremendous peak nor longevity, playing in 1,622 games over 16 seasons and only once cracking a .900 OPS or 130 OPS+. He had no MVP-caliber season and never led the National League in any of the three slash line categories (batting average, on-base percentage, slugging percentage).

In fact, Bill James, in his 2001 book The New Bill James Historical Baseball Abstract, called High Pockets “the worst player in the Hall of Fame,” and I happen to agree, at least as far as hitters are concerned (starting pitcher Rube Marquard gives Kelly a run for his money.)

Only four Hall of Fame position players have worse career WAR totals than Kelly’s 23.6. And while Tommy McCarthy, Ray Schalk, Rick Ferrell and Lloyd Waner certainly don’t belong anywhere near Cooperstown, their candidacies are all slightly more defensible than Kelly’s.

McCarthy played before entirely accurate statistical records were kept, so we’re evaluating him using potentially incomplete data. Plus, the outfielder is regarded as a pioneer of the hit-and-run play and an overall excellent base-runner. Waner hit .317 lifetime (albeit while almost never walking and playing during an offensively-dominant era), and at least his lackluster offensive production came at a high-value position, center-field, as opposed to first base, where Kelly played. Schalk and Ferrell were both well-regarded catchers, providing some value at the scarcest of positions.

So I can’t argue with James that Kelly was the worst of the “best.” But how did such a pedestrian player achieve the game’s highest honor?

In Kelly’s election to the Hall of Fame, it was Frisch’s opinion that mattered most. Frisch, Kelly’s former New York Giants teammate, was, at the time of the first baseman’s induction, chairman of the Veterans Committee (another of those former-Giants, Bill Terry, was also on the committee), and cronyism has understandably been assumed as the explanation for the induction of Kelly and many other former-Frisch field-mates. Essentially, High Pockets reached the Hall because he had friends in the right place. It’s an accusation Frisch is not around to answer to (he died in March, 1973, before Kelly was even officially inducted), but it seems as if the former second baseman is responsible for Kelly’s place in Cooperstown. In other words, he is responsible for the worst position player in the Hall of Fame.

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 Simmons, Albert Pujols, Babe Ruth, Bad News Rockies, Barry Bonds, Billy Beane, Billy Martin, Bob Caruthers, Bob Feller, Bob Watson, Bobby Veach, Carl Mays, Cesar Cedeno, Charles Victory Faust, Chris von der Ahe, Denny McLain, Dom DiMaggio, Don Drysdale, Doug Glanville, Eddie Lopat, Elmer Flick, Frank Howard, Fritz Maisel, Gavvy Cravath, Gene Tenace, George W. Bush (as commissioner), George Case, George Weiss, Harmon Killebrew, Harry Walker, Home Run Baker, Honus Wagner, Hugh Casey, Ichiro Suzuki, Jack Clark, Jack Morris, Jackie Robinson, Jim Abbott, Jimmy Wynn, Joe DiMaggio, Joe Posnanski, Johnny Antonelli, Johnny Frederick, Josh Gibson, Josh Hamilton, Ken Griffey Jr., Lefty Grove, Lefty O’Doul, Major League (1989 film), Matty Alou, Michael Jordan, Monte Irvin, Nate Colbert, Ollie Carnegie, Paul Derringer, Pedro Guerrero, Pedro Martinez, Pee Wee Reese, Pete Rose, Prince Fielder, Ralph Kiner, Rick Ankiel, Rickey Henderson, Roberto Clemente, Rogers Hornsby, Sam Crawford, Sam Thompson, Sandy Koufax,  Satchel Paige, Shoeless Joe Jackson, Stan Musial, Ted Williams, The Meusel Brothers, Tony Phillips, Ty Cobb, Vada Pinson, Wally Bunker, Wes Ferrell, Will Clark, Willie Mays

When you think Branch Rickey, you think innovator. He broke the color barrier and pretty much created the framework for the modern MiLB farm system. But, before all that, he signed a pro contract in 1903.

He played 82 games in the minors that year, he hit .257. However he was a catcher and it was the early 1900s so that wasn’t like kissing your sister bad. He did worse in 1904 and 1905, but did get three plate appearances in the majors with the St. Louis Browns in ’05. He went hitless with two K’s.

Rickey showed promise the following year, batting .284/.345/.393 in 223 plate appearances. He was then sold to the New York Highlanders and the wheels fell off. He batted just .182/.253/.234 and exhibited perhaps the worst catching defense in MLB history. He was Jesus Montero without the bat. In fact, he once allowed 13 successful stolen bases in a game, a record to this day.

He was out of baseball soon after, but became a front office executive of the Browns in 1913. He signed George Sisler. And the rest is history.

There seems to be a link (or at least the belief of a link) between failing on baseball’s biggest stage and eventually becoming one of the best managers, pitching coaches, GMs or owners. But is that the case?

Joe McCarthy managed for 24 seasons, won nearly 62 percent of the games he managed and seven World Series. While he did a lot of damage with the wrecking crew known as the 1930s Bronx Bombers, he had impressive winning percentages with the Cubs (.579 in 770 games) and Red Sox (.606 in 369 games) and was the first manager to win a pennant in both leagues. McCarthy had a much longer minor league career than Rickey; however it was by no means better. With 15 seasons in the minors and 5,839 at bats, he mustered just 32 HRs. He batted .261 with a .334 slugging percentage. The only time he looked good was his age-26 season, when he repeated the year at Wilkes-Barre: he batted .325 and hit six HRs (the most he ever hit in a minor league season). McCarthy, a no-hit second baseman, grew up idolizing Connie Mack – which makes a lot of sense.

Charlie Comiskey managed for 12 seasons, finished with a .608 winning percentage, four pennants and one World Series. As a first baseman, Comiskey made James Loney look like Frank Thomas. Comiskey played for 13 seasons for the St. Louis Browns. As a player, Comiskey finished with a .264/.293/.337 line and he was worth 11 WAR (although more than half of that comes from defense) (Baseball Reference). Heck, maybe Comiskey should have pitched: he had a 0.73 ERA and 1.30 WHIP in 12.1 MLB innings. Like Rickey, he was also an innovator: Comiskey is credited as being the first player to position himself behind the first base bag and thereby cover more field – he was all over total zone rating.

Frank Selee managed for 16 seasons, won nearly 60 percent of his games and five pennants. Selee, a “balding little man with a modest demeanor and a formidable mustache that gave his face a melancholy case,” never played minor or major league baseball. He did manage Frank Chance who took over managing the Cubs when Selee was too ill to do so.
Frank Chance managed 11 seasons, won 59 percent of his games, two World Series and four pennants. Known as Husk or the Peerless Leader, Chance was the end point of Tinkers to Evers. He was also a no-power first basemen who could get on base (.296/.394/.394). He hit 20 HRs over his 1,288 games played. Chance accumulated 49.5 WAR and was a stud from 1904-1908: .302/.397/.404, with 14 of his 20 HRs. Chance, good player, great manager.

Billy Southworth managed for 13 seasons, won nearly 60 percent of his games, two World Series and four pennants. Southworth was also a fine hitter, batting .297/.359/.415 over 13 seasons. He was worth 20.3 WAR and finished in the top 20 for MVP once during his career. Southworth, a solid regular for seven of his seasons, was the first person in MLB history to win a World Series as a player and a manager.

John McGraw managed for 33 seasons, won 58 percent of his games, three World Series and 10 pennants. He played from 1891-1906 and was player manager from 1899-1906. McGraw, known as Little Napoleon, led the league in OBP three times, scored 140+ runs three times and finished with a .334/.466/.410 line. He was worth 49.3 WAR. It’s entirely possible that McGraw is responsible for the quantity of umpires on a diamond. Like other names on this list, McGraw was an innovator, likely being responsible for the quantity of umpires on the field. When McGraw played, there was only one umpire and whenever the ump was distracted, McGraw would trip or otherwise impede base runners.

Al Lopez managed for 17 seasons, won 58 percent of his games and two pennants. Lopez, who managed the Indians for the 1950s and later the White Sox, played from 1928-1947. His playing career, lasting 19 seasons, wasn’t overly interesting: .261/.326/.337 with 13.5 WAR. That said, Lopez, a catcher, set the record for career games at the position until Gary Carter broke it in 1990. Lopez died four days after the White Sox won the World Series in 2005, the franchise’s first championship since Lopez led them to the World Series 88 years before. Lopez was a colorful character and solid catcher for nearly 20 years and a great manager for even longer.

Earl Weaver managed for 17 years, won 58 percent of his games, one World Series and four pennants. Weaver is, perhaps, my favorite baseball entity. His book Weaver On Strategy is one of the most brilliant things I’ve ever read. His career is probably the reason for this column as I know he struggled mightily in the minors (.267/.269/.344) across 14 seasons. However, Weaver knew how to manage a baseball team and farm system. While he couldn’t play well, his mind and understanding of the game was up there with anyone. He was also similar to Al Lopez: neither found an umpire they couldn’t get to throw them out of a game. Man, I miss Earl Weaver.

Cap Anson managed for 21 seasons (nearly two-thirds of that time he was player-manager), won 58 percent of his games and five pennants. Anson is, of course, one of the greatest players of all time: .334/.394/.447 with nearly 100 WAR. He won the batting title twice, lead the league in OBP four times and generally dominated the 1870s, 80s and 90s. Between Anson’s career and managerial record, he could be the most complete baseball man of all time!

Connie Mack, or Cornelius McGillicuddy, Sr., managed for 53 seasons, won 48 percent of his games, five World Series and nine pennants. Mack, the Tall Tactician, played 11 seasons in the majors predominantly at catcher, finishing with a .244/.305/.300 line and 4.5 WAR. Mack had nearly 60 more walks than he did extra base hits. He also had 15 more K’s than he did extra base hits. Another innovator, Mack would simulate the sound of a foul tip when he was catching. At the time, a caught foul tip was automatically an out. In 1891, the rule was changed that only a caught foul tip on a third strike signaled an out.

Casey Stengel managed for 25 seasons, won 51 percent of his games, seven World Series and 10 pennants. Stengel, the Old Perfessor, wasn’t a bad hitter either. He played predominantly right-field and finished with a .284/.356/.410 line and OPS+ of 119. He was worth 18.7 WAR for his career. Stengel was a slightly above average player for about 10 of his 14 seasons – not bad.

Most of those are old time managers; however recent successful managers like Sparky Anderson, Tony LaRussa, Bobby Cox, Tommy Lasorda, Terry Francona, Joe Girardi and Davey Johnson didn’t have overly distinguished playing careers. In addition, pitching coaches like Dave Duncan (career .214/.279/.357 hitter) and Leo Mazzone (had a 1.40 WHIP and 0.93 K:BB rate across 10 minor league seasons) weren’t successful players. That said, Joe Torre had a near Hall of Fame playing career.

In short, good players and bad players turned out to be great managers, GMs (Billy Beane), pitching coaches and others. However, in recent time, the game seems to have trended away from stars becoming managers. Perhaps if Ryne Sandberg ever gets a shot or if Mark McGwire continues as a hitting coach we’ll know more.

It does appear that the decline of the player-manager has changed the pool of managerial candidates. With the better players playing longer into their careers, they lose out. Nowadays, players like Terry Francona (who last played in the Bigs at 31) are earning valuable experience 5-10 years before stars retire. In addition, we can always blame Pete Rose.
Lastly, perhaps there is a bit of perception bias. The majority of people fail at baseball, so, necessarily, there are far more bad players looking for managerial jobs than good players.

The Oakland Athletics stunned the baseball world earlier this week when the team signed the untried Yoennis Cespedes to a 4-year, $36 million contract. Cespedes’ only experience against major league pitching came during the World Baseball Classic where he hit .428 in 24 at bats. In Cuba last year, Cespedes hit 33 home runs in 90 games. Who knows how that translates into a realistic ability to hit in the big time?

The WBC and the Cuban League aren’t the major leagues. While the scouts go crazy over Cespedes and what they view as his can’t miss future, my own thinking is tempered by the opinions of two former big league stars, Hall of Famer Mike Schmidt and the Pittsburgh Pirates’ Steve Blass.

Schmidt says that there’s no jump harder to make in professional sports than the move up from AAA to the majors. Blass adds that it’s one thing to “make” the big league roster but a different thing altogether to “perform” once you get there. Some note that neither the WBC or the Cuban League approach AAA talent-wise.

Cespedes will begin his Athletics’ career in the minors. There he might run into another international signing, a former “can’t miss” prospect who looks like—well, he may miss. In 2008, the As signed 6’7” 16-year-old Dominican Michael Ynoa for $4.25 million. General manager Billy Beane predicted that Ynoa’s blazing fastball would dominate hitters for years to come. Ynoa pitched nine innings of rookie ball in 2010 before blowing out his arm and undergoing Tommy John surgery.

Another multimillion dollar Cuban defector, Aroldis Chapman, is still in his formative stages. In parts of two seasons for the Cincinnati Reds, Chapman has shown improvement.

Last summer, Chapman threw a 105 mile fastball that Reds’ fans are still talking about

But here’s what pitching great Sal Maglie said in Sports Illustrated in 1958 about pitchers who plan to make their livings with fastballs:

With nothing but a real good fastball, a pitcher can be a winner in high school and college, on the sandlots and even in the minor leagues. But no one—not even a Herb Score or a Bob Feller  —can consistently throw the ball past major league hitters. The guys you run into here are just too good for that.

Maybe without his injury Ynoa would be dominant by now. Cespedes might end up in the Hall of Fame. Long-term investments in any young player are risky. But the odds shift in the general manager’s favor if that player has come up through familiar venues familiar, e.g. college campuses and organized American minor leagues.

If you read my earlier, politically incorrect post about Yu Darvish and the extravagant contract that the Texas Rangers bestowed on him, you won’t be surprised to learn that I view the Cespedes deal with extreme skepticism. I’d like to see more American kids get shots.

As a result of lifting the visa cap for professional athletes, the minor leagues are currently made up of nearly 50 percent foreign-born players.

The new, lax visa regulations add another layer of difficulty for American teens hoping to make the big leagues. Instead of signing hundreds of U.S. high school or college amateurs, historically the business model for stocking minor-league rosters, today teams draft fewer U.S. kids and instead ink more so-called non-draft free agents, the majority young Latin Americans. One reason: the marginal players are cheaper.

Oneri Fleita, the Chicago Cubs minor league player development director explained:

There is no longer a limit on work visas. So, yeah, you might see more foreign players getting an opportunity.

Globalism is good for owners, the players signed to the multimillion dollar deals and for fans if their teams’ players make it big. For the American kid hoping to make his mark, globalism makes his already difficult task nearly impossible.

Editor’s note: Please welcome Patrick Languzzi to the site. Patrick’s been patiently waiting for a couple of months to offer something on Dwight Evans, who in December finished tenth in BPP’s annual project on the 50 best players not in the Hall of Fame. Patrick waited long enough that his piece today is apropos, given Bill James’ open letter last week pushing Dwight Evans for Cooperstown.
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Claim to Fame:  Selected to the ’80s All-Decade Team, Evans finished as a three-time All Star and two-time Silver Slugger. He won eight Gold Gloves in 10 seasons, (including five straight ’81-’85), and was selected by Major League Baseball as having one of the nine greatest outfield arms. Evans is the only player in history to win eight Gold Gloves while also leading his league for a decade in home runs and all of MLB in extra base hits and runs created. He’s one of just 13 players to have at least 2,400 hits, 1,450 runs, 1,375 walks, 1,375 RBI, 480 doubles and 385 home runs. Of those 13, Evans is the only player previously eligible not to have been enshrined in Cooperstown.

Current Hall of Fame eligibility: Evans fell off the BBWAA ballot in 1999. He’ll be eligible again in 2013 via the Veterans Committee and its Expansion Era ballot.

Does he belong in the Hall of Fame?  Without question.

Evans played in the shadow of Hall of Fame teammates Jim Rice, Carl Yastrzemski and Wade Boggs. Despite being considered the greatest right fielder of his era, Evans still went underrated, and his offensive skills were often overshadowed by his own defensive exploits. Bill James once wrote, “Dwight Evans is also one of the most underrated players in baseball history, because he did many things well, rather than having one central skill that people could use to explain his excellence.”

Evans led all of baseball during the 1980s in runs created with 1,067, ahead of Hall of Famers Ricky Henderson, Eddie Murray, Robin Yount and Mike Schmidt.  He was first in extra base hits with 605 ahead of Yount, Murray, Schmidt and Brett, hit more home runs with 256 than any other American League player, and was the only player to hit 20 or more in nine consecutive seasons ’81-89.

Evans led right fielders during the ’80s in HR, RBI, walks, runs, runs created, extra base hits, times on base, runs produced, OPS and doubles, as well as four top 10 finishes in the MVP voting.

Since the turn of the century, all players to lead their respective decade in extra base hits through 1980 have been inducted in Cooperstown.

Extra Base Hit Leaders by Decade

1900s – Honus Wagner

1910s – Tris Speaker

1920s – Babe Ruth

1930s – Jimmie Foxx

1940s – Stan Musial

1950s – Stan Musial

1960s – Hank Aaron

1970s – Reggie Jackson

1980s – Dwight Evans

David Laurila of FanGraphs writes:

Evans has the same OPS+ as Rickey Henderson [127], higher one than Ernie Banks, Johnny Bench, Yogi Berra, Paul Molitor and Kirby Puckett. Evans’ WAR [61.8] is higher than Andre Dawson, Harmon Killebrew, Willie Stargell, Billy Williams and Dave Winfield.

Evans is in good company, comparing favorably to Kaline, Perez and Williams, as well as Dawson and Rice. Here’s a chart that breaks it down:

For all Hall of Fame hitters, Evans averages higher in runs, hits, doubles, HR, RBI, base on balls, slugging and OPS.

For more information, check out the case I presented for Evans at a January 19 meeting of the Society for American Baseball Research. I’ll close here by saying there are other statistical arguments in Evans’ favor. In his era, he ranked in the top 10 for most major statistical categories for right-handed American League hitters. From 1970-1989, no right fielder in MLB won more Gold Gloves than Evans. In 14 World Series games (two series, ‘75, ‘86) Evans hit .300, 15 hits, three HR, 14 RBI, seven walks, seven runs, .397 OBP, .580 SLG, .977 OPS and 29 total bases.

Yastrzemski said it best:

Dewey was a great offensive player and one of the greatest right fielders to play the game; there’s no doubt in my mind that he belongs in the Hall of Fame.

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

Others in this series: Adrian Beltre, Al Oliver, Alan Trammell, Albert Belle, Albert Pujols, Allie Reynolds, Barry Bonds, Barry Larkin, Bert Blyleven, Bill King, Billy Martin, Bobby Grich, Cecil Travis, Chipper Jones, Closers, Craig Biggio, Curt Flood, Dan Quisenberry, Darrell Evans, Dave Parker, Dick Allen, Don Mattingly,Don Newcombe, George Steinbrenner, George Van Haltren, Gus Greenlee, Harold Baines, Harry Dalton, Jack Morris, Jeff Bagwell, Jim Edmonds, Joe Carter, Joe Posnanski, John Smoltz, Juan Gonzalez, Keith Hernandez, Ken Caminiti, Kevin Brown, Larry Walker,Manny Ramirez, Maury Wills, Mel Harder, Moises Alou, Pete Browning,Phil Cavarretta, Rafael Palmeiro, Roberto Alomar, Rocky Colavito,Roger Maris, Ron Cey, Ron Guidry, Ro
n Santo, Smoky Joe Wood, Steve Garvey,Ted Simmons, Thurman Munson, Tim Raines, Tony Oliva, Vince Coleman, Will Clark

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.

His Hall of Fame plaque reads that Josh Gibson hit “almost 800 homeruns” in his career. There are several reports of Josh Gibson hitting home runs which traveled more than 500 feet. Walter Johnson said Gibson could, “hit the ball a mile.”  Satchel Paige simply called Gibson, “the greatest hitter who ever lived.”  “There were a hundred legends about him,” catching great Roy Campanella said. “Once you saw him play, you knew they were all true.”  Gibson once reportedly hit a ball over the fence in Pittsburgh which was not caught until the next day during his next game in Philadelphia.  He was called out in Pittsburgh for the previous day.

Gibson, the subject of a recent column by Graham Womack, was born December 21, 1911 in Buena Vista, Georgia. In 1923, the Gibson family moved to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where his father found employment at the Carnagie-Illinois Steel Company. Josh Gibson was preparing to become an electrician at a Pittsburgh school. Instead, he found work as an elevator operator at Gimbels department store and at 16 years old, played third base for the company team. Baseball was definitely a better profession than working in a mill, and Gibson knew that was what he wanted to be.

It wasn’t long before he caught the eye of Gus Greenlee who controlled the then still semi-pro Pittsburgh Crawfords. The Crawfords were the top semi-pro team in the Pittsburgh area. In 1930, Gibson was signed by Cum Posey, owner of the top Negro League team in Pittsburgh, the Homestead Grays. There were already whispers about the legendary power and ability of Gibson. On July 31, 1930, the legend was about to begin.

Negro League statistics are notoriously difficult to verify as when they were compiled at all, often did not differentiate between pro and amateur opponents nor did they take into consideration the various ballpark distances.  The Negro League season was usually no more than 60 games and more money was made barnstorming than against professional opponents in league games.

Still, Gibson compiled some staggering even if only partial accurate statistics. In 1931, Gibson hit .461 and slugged 75 home runs. He resigned with the Pittsburgh Crawfords who were now fully professional in 1933 and hit .467 with 55 home runs and he drove in 239. He was just getting warmed up. The following season he hit 69 homeruns. In 1937 he returned to the Homestead Grays and led them to nine Negro League titles.

Throughout his career, Gibson played winter baseball in Latin America adding to a legend that the major leagues and Branch Rickey, the man who broke the colour barrier by signing Jackie Robinson, couldn’t help but notice. There are stories that Rickey had considered signing Gibson and making him the first black player in the major leagues. Rickey was heard to remark that for sheer talent alone, Gibson would have been the logical choice.

But Gibson had demons that he could not shake. He seemed good natured and carefree on the surface but beneath the surface was a deeply troubled soul. He often drank heavily and had high blood pressure. He was plagued for many years by injuries suffered due to catching thousands of games and he suffered from terrible headaches. He suffered from blackouts. He would gain much weight only to quickly lose it. Doctors insist that Gibson undergo an operation to determine the cause of his health issues but he refused and continued to play.

He won the Negro League batting title in 1945 and 1946 but in January of 1947, just months before Jackie Robinson finally broke the color barrier, Josh Gibson passed away at the age of 35 after suffering a stroke.

Some teammates insist that Gibson really died of a broken heart. He was said to have been always bitter at never having the opportunity to play in the major leagues. It plagued and depressed him his entire career. When Jackie Robinson was signed by the Brooklyn Dodgers, Gibson felt his chance had come and gone. But his passing was really baseball’s loss.

Gibson was elected in the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1972 and a plaque was erected in 1996 at Ammon Field in Pittsburgh and in 2009 he was honored with a statue inside the center field fence at Nationals Park, home of the current Washington Nationals.

These are the darkest days. Football is over. I haven’t watched a NBA game from start to finish since I lived in New York when Willis Reed, Clyde Frazier and Bill Bradley led the Knicks to the 1969-1970 championship. As for hockey, I blame my disinterest on growing up in Los Angeles where the only ice I ever saw was in my freezer. But soon the sun will shine again, if not here in Pittsburgh then in Florida and Arizona where spring training will begin in a few days.

As I mulled over the seasonal transition from football to basketball to baseball, I suddenly remembered the man who handled it better than anyone: Gene Conley, the 6’8” giant who excelled on the diamond and the hardwood.

No one else played against Jackie Robinson, Frank Robinson and Oscar Robertson or played with Carl Yastrzemski during the summer, then teamed up Bob Cousy for the winter. Only Conley once had a locker next to Hank Aaron and Bill Russell during the same calendar year.

After playing baseball and basketball for Washington State University, Conley signed his first professional contract with the Boston Braves who called him up in 1952. Later that year, Boston Celtics’ guard Bill Sharman recommended Conley to Red Auerbach. During the 1952-53 NBA season, young Gene lived in the Lenox Hotel, one floor below Coach Auerbach.

The following year, the Braves paid Conley a $5,000 bonus to quit basketball. Conley rewarded the Braves with a 14 game winning season in 1954. During the July 1955 All Star Game, Conley struck out in order Al Kaline, Mickey Vernon and Al Rosen in the top of the 12th, then earned the win when Stan Musial homered in the bottom of the inning. In the second of two 1959 All Star Games, Conley fanned Ted Williams. In between Conley’s All Star appearances, he picked up NBA championship rings as Bill Russell’s backup with the 1958-1959 and 1959-60 Celtics.

But by 1958, Conley’s constant drinking and his inability to get along with Braves’ manager Fred Hanley led to his trade to the Philadelphia Phillies. Conley later referred to the swap “as the largest in baseball history” since 6’7” Frank Sullivan was the other part of the deal.

By 1960, the Phillies had grown tired of Conley’s dual career and offered him $20,000 to stop playing basketball. When the two parties couldn’t come to terms, the Phillies traded Conley to the Red Sox. At that point, Conley became the only man to play for three major professional teams in the same city.

In 1962, Conley recorded career highs in wins and innings, 15 and 242. But it was also the year of infamous Conley-Pumpsie Green incident. After a 13-3 shellacking on July 26 in Yankee Stadium when he gave up eight third inning runs, Conley began drinking heavily which started him down the road on the adventure for which he is most famous.

En route back to Boston, the team bus got stuck in traffic.  Conley and Green got off the bus allegedly to find a restroom but really to find a bar. When the two players returned the bus was gone. Left to their own devices, the pair resumed drinking before Green came to his senses and left Gene to return to Boston. Conley, however, continued his binge for several days and eventually in a condition described by those on the scene at the airport as “extremely inebriated” bought a ticket to Israel. Because he had no passport, the airline refused to let him board.

By 1964, Conley was out of baseball and basketball; in 1966, he took his last drink. Now 81, Conley now lives with his wife of more  than 60 years in New Hampshire.

Many consider Conley one of the greatest athletes in sports’ history. In all, Conley played 11 seasons in the Major Leagues, three of them with the Boston Red Sox (1961-63), one with the Boston Braves (1952), five with the Milwaukee Braves (1954-58) and two with the Philadelphia Phillies (1959).

Conley also played six NBA seasons, four of them with the Celtics (1953, 1959-61) and two more with the New York Knicks (1963-64).

Conley’s wife Katheryn detailed more wild stories in her husband’s biography of her husband published in 2004, One of a Kind.

Apparently, life with Gene was no picnic and was bearable only because of  his long road trips which, because Conley played two sports, lasted parts of ten months each year.