Over on his blog, Rob Neyer discusses the Tigers’ decision to have Miguel Cabrera and Carlos Guillen switch positions, with Cabrera moving to first base and Guillen moving to third. Among other things, Neyer had this to say:
Presumably, at some point Leyland or someone else connected with management will favor us with the rationale here. This is definitely a bit strange, considering the Tigers had all winter to figure out who should play where, decided on Cabrera at third base and Guillen at first base, and now they’ve reversed course barely three weeks into the season.
They may favor us with some rationale, but they may not be totally forthcoming, because I suspect the truth has some version of this: “Well, we didn’t want to switch Cabrera’s position before we signed him to a long-term contract, because we didn’t want to do anything to rock the boat.” It seems likely to me that this move is coming as soon after the contract as possible without everyone knowing exactly what was going on.
Neyer also has concerns about Guillen and Cabrera both learning new positions on the job, but I don’t think it’s a big issue. Guillen was a decent shortstop, which should make his transition to third easier. At any rate, he will immediately be better at third than Cabrera. And that upgrade at third should more than make up for any downgrade they get by switching to Cabrera at first.
And speaking of Clemente and jerseys, I just gotta say how dumb I think Yankee fans are. LaTroy Hawkins wanted to wear number 21 to honor Clemente, but he met a huge backlash from Yankee fans because number 21 was Paul O’Neill’s number. Paul freaking O’Neill! Yes, he was a great Yankee, but not great enough to have his number retired (as evidenced by the fact that, you know, they haven’t retired it). Only Yankee fans could be so self-involved to think that Paul O’Neill is more important than a guy wanting to honor a great ballplayer and humanitarian like Roberto Clemente.
Well today, Joe Posnanski blogged about the same thing. My only regret: that I didn’t think of “Paul O’FreakingNeill,” which is much more creative than the “Paul freaking O’Neill” that I said. But I will do Joe one better and say it should have been “Paul O’Freaking’Neill.”
Anyway, as with most things Joe writes, this is worth a read.
Over at ShysterBall (one of the most engaging, intelligent baseball-related blogs I have come across), Craig Calcaterra had what I think is a wonderful idea. And because it’s not stealing if you give credit, I am going to use it here. Here’s what Craig had to say:
Thinking about which Giants jersey I’d get got me thinking of my favorite players. That, in turn, got me thinking of whether I have a favorable opinion of enough players to where I could conceivably buy a jersey for every team and still feel good about it. So here’s my list of my favorite players for each team, limited to my baseball-watching lifetime (roughly 1978-present), why I like them, and whether I’m deep enough in like with the guy to justify buying his jersey.
First, a little bit about my background as a baseball fan. The first year I remember anything from is 1983, so I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t have many players from before then. On the other hand, I am deeply in love with baseball history, so it may turn out that my favorite players from some teams played before I was even alive. So while I am not going to limit myself to players from “my baseball-watching lifetime” like Craig did, I’m not just going to go with Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Willie Mays, and the like.
I also have a longstanding love of old-school baseball uniforms. Long before throwback jerseys became popular, my brother and I tried to get our mom to make some replicas of those ugly orange-striped old Astros jerseys, mine with “Bjorkman” on the back and his with “Pujols.” (I guess we had a thing for Alan Ashby’s backups.) So I will resist my natural urge to list players just because of their obscurity. No Ron Romanick jersey for me.
Craig started with the American League, and I shall do the same. He started in the AL East, but I’m a California boy, so I will start in the West:
California Angels of Los Anaheim
Favorite: Brian Downing. Why: I grew up a Dodger fan, and the Angels were always second-class, but they were also about a half-hour closer and a little bit cheaper, so I went to almost as many Angel games as Dodger games growing up. I loved Brian Downing. Maybe it was that he wore number 5 (my favorite Dodger at the time was Mike Marshall — the outfielder/first baseman, not the relief pitcher — who also wore number 5); maybe it was his open stance, which I emulated pretty often in Little League; maybe it was just his glasses. I don’t know, but there’s no question that Brian Downing is my Angel. Would I buy his jersey: Yeah, I would definitely dig a classic Downing jersey.
Oakland A’s
Favorite: Mark McGwire Why: I had a neighbor who loved the A’s, and he especially loved Jose Canseco. (That neighbor is now serving a life sentence for murder; Canseco ruins everything he touches.) Between his Canseco love, the 1988 World Series, and my overall loathing of Rickey Henderson, I was not much of an A’s fan. But I always liked Mark McGwire. I still like Mark McGwire. I will never stop liking Mark McGwire. Would I buy his jersey: I’m torn. On one hand, I think the A’s uniforms have pretty much always been unattractive; at best, they are a color scheme that I don’t think I could wear. But other than aesthetics, I would love to have a McGwire A’s jersey. So I guess what it boils down to is this: if I had all 29 other teams and needed the A’s to complete the set, I wouldn’t have a problem getting the McGwire jersey. But since I’d rarely, if ever, wear the thing, I probably wouldn’t get it just for fun.Yeah, I think I would definitely like a McGwire A’s jersey.
Seattle Mariners
Favorite: Alex Rodriguez Why: A-Rod is one of my favorite players of all time, and one of my three favorite active players. There have been other Mariners I have liked (Griffey, Buhner, Edgar), but certainly not nearly as much as I like A-Rod. Would I buy his jersey: Without a doubt.
Texas Rangers
Favorite: Nolan Ryan Why: Another of my favorite players of all time. It seems like a cheap, obvious choice, but I grew up idolizing Nolan Ryan. When I was fifteen years old, there was an article written about me in our local newspaper with the headline, “Budding young Nolan on the rise,” about when I struck out 18 batters in a seven-inning game twice in one season. I thought that was the greatest compliment anyone could ever pay me, and I am still prouder of the comparison to Nolan Ryan than I am of the games themselves. Would I buy his jersey: For sure. And I’d wear it a lot.
Minnesota Twins
Favorite: Bert Blyleven Why: When I was 17 years old, Todd Blyleven pitched for the Lake Elsinore Storm, my hometown Class A minor league team in the California League. Todd and I became pretty good buds, and he once introduced me to his dad before a game. Bert was extremely friendly, and it wasn’t until later that I realized I had just been chit-chatting with one of the best pitchers of my lifetime (no matter what the stupid Hall of Fame voters say).
Favorite: George Brett Why: I saw Brett play in person a couple times, and there’s just not much not to like about the guy. Great player, seems like a nice guy. (My wife got his autograph once when she was a teenager and knew nothing about baseball, and it looks like it says “Joyce Butt,” so that’s what she calls him.) Would I buy his jersey: Yeah. I like that the Royals’ uniforms look a lot like the Dodgers’, and I like the number 5. Maybe I’d get a his-and-hers matching set, with “BRETT” on mine and “BUTT” on my wife’s.
Chicago White Sox
Favorite: Bo Jackson Why: I thought about Bo Jackson for the Royals, but he doesn’t quite measure up to Brett. But he definitely beats out Frank Thomas, LaMarr Hoyt, and Richard Dotson on the White Sox. Would I buy his jersey: I’m not sure. For one thing, no one would know that a White Sox jersey with “JACKSON” on the back was a Bo Jackson jersey; they’d probably think my last name was Jackson and I had it personalized. But putting “BO JACKSON” on the back would be stupid. So I guess this goes back to the McGwire A’s jersey: if I needed just this one to complete the set, sure. But not just to have it.
Detroit Tigers
Favorite: Kirk Gibson Why: I am cheating a little bit here. I love Kirk Gibson because I am a Dodger fan. But he’s not my favorite Dodger ever, and he is my favorite player who ever played for the Tigers, so I am going with it. And I dig the Tigers’ home jerseys from Gibson’s heyday, so I feel good about it. Would I buy his jersey: Sure. I like the uniform and I like the player, so I can overlook the fact that I never really cared about the player when he wore the uniform.
Cleveland Indians
Favorite: Brett Butler Why: Cheating again. I love Brett Butler as a Dodger, not as an Indian. But I like the Indians’ jerseys from Butler’s time there, so I wouldn’t mind wearing it. Would I buy his jersey: Yeah. I don’t like the jersey as much as the Tigers’, and I don’t have quite the strong fondness for Butler as I do for Gibson, but I like both plenty to buy it.
Tampa Bay Satan Rays
Favorite: I don’t know … Wade Boggs? Why: I like Boggs just fine, but I definitely think of him first with the Red Sox and then with the Yankees. If he hadn’t gotten his 3000th hit with Tampa Bay, I probably wouldn’t even remember that he played for them. Would I buy his jersey: No.
Baltimore Orioles
Favorite: Cal Ripken Jr. Why: My favorite player of all time. I love every single thing about Cal Ripken. I named my son after him. Would I buy his jersey: For sure, for sure, for sure. I’d buy one for my son, too.
Toronto Blue Jays
Favorite: Roberto Alomar Why: I don’t know for sure that he’s my favorite Blue Jay. I am also a fan of Paul Molitor and Joe Carter and Dave Winfield and Shawn Green, not to mention Jack Morris and Juan Guzman and a few others. There are lots of Blue Jays who I like, but none who I love. Alomar came close on my Indians list, and he probably tops the other guys here. Would I buy his jersey: I have no burning desire to own a Blue Jays’ jersey, although I wouldn’t mind wearing Alomar. But I’d probably go with another team. Heck, he may end up on my NL list for either the Padres, Mets, or D-Backs. No dice on the Jays.
Boston Red Sox
Favorite: Roger Clemens Why: As a pitcher growing up, I admired and idolized some great pitchers. Nolan Ryan was one, and I — like a lot of people — saw Clemens as the second coming of Ryan. Clemens turned out to be even better, which may or may not have been a natural thing. But from what I can tell, Roger Clemens of the Red Sox was clean and great. Would I buy his jersey: Yes. I like the Red Sox, I like their jerseys, and I still have a fondness for Clemens.
New York Yankees
Favorite: Lou Gehrig Why: I’m going old school on this. Growing up admiring Cal Ripken, I had a natural affection for Gehrig. There have been a lot of Yankees I have liked over the years, and I could see myself theoretically owning multiple Yankees jerseys. But the first one would have to be Gehrig’s. Would I buy his jersey: Definitely.
And that’s it for the American League. I will post the National League as soon as I get the chance. I’m interested to see what I think.
So Shelley Duncan doesn’t think the Rays should be upset about his slide into second, which ignited a bench-clearing brawl. I could almost believe that, except that he actually refers to his slide as “play[ing] the game the right way.” Let’s see…
Guess what, Shelley? The ONLY possible defense, the ONLY way I will believe that you weren’t being a jackhole and trying to hurt Iwamura, is if I hear the following explanation:
I am just really, really, really bad a sliding. I’ve been playing baseball for twenty years, but no one ever taught me how to slide. My dad is a pitching coach, you know. So I was going into second, and I knew I needed to slide, and my brain tried to remember how, and by the time it kind of remembered, I was already almost to the base, so as you can see, I slid so late that my shoulders went over the base. Oh, and there was a banana peel on the ground, which is why my spikes were so high. I mean, I obviously know that the purpose of sliding is to get my feet to the base, so of course I wouldn’t slide with my spikes that high, because it totally defeats the purpose. But no, I wasn’t trying to hurt anyone … I’m just a really crappy slider.
But no. Instead, we get him trying to tell us he was playing the game the right way…
Ryan Howard, 2006 NL MVP. Chase Utley, future NL MVP. Jimmy Rollins, 2007 NL MVP. Pedro Feliz. That’s the Phillies’ infield as of this afternoon.
Howard is a stud who, in three seasons, has won a Rookie of the Year and an MVP and driven in like a billion runs. Utley probably would have won the MVP last season if he hadn’t missed a month due to injury. And Rollins DID win the MVP. That is, without a doubt, one of the greatest young infields you will ever see (especially when you consider that Rollins and Utley are both above average fielders, too).
And then there’s Pedro Feliz. He of the .721 career OPS. He whose career high OBP is .305. He whose career batting average of .252 does nothing to help the fact that he averages 28 walks a season. Simply put, he is a terrible — TERRIBLE — offensive player at a position where offense is generally expected.
Some of my favorite parts of the ESPN.com article:
“If we get this done, he’s an upgrade defensively and he’s a run-producer,” general manager Pat Gillick said.
Sorry, Pat, but Feliz is not a run-producer. He benefited greatly by batting behind Barry Bonds and his ridiculous on-base percentage, but that is all. Stick with the “defensive upgrade” argument, because it’s the only one that’s not demonstrably false.
“We got better,” Manuel said. “He’s a good defensive player. He’s got power. He’ll hit probably sixth, seventh, somewhere in there. I think putting him down in our lineup will help him. He was called on to hit in the middle of the lineup in San Francisco. A couple years ago, he might’ve been pressing to do too much because they had Barry Bonds there.”
When life gives you lemons named Pedro, make crap up until it tastes kind of like lemonade. I’m sure there was LOTS of pressure always coming up to bat with Bonds on base and always having reporters ignoring you because Bonds is on the team, and I am 100% positive that THAT, and not a lack of offensive ability, is why Pedro Feliz has a career OBP of .288 and 3.3 times as many strikeouts as walks.
Feliz batted .253 with 20 home runs and 72 RBIs last season with the San Francisco Giants.
…
Feliz will likely replace the trio of Greg Dobbs, Wes Helms and Abraham Nunez that the Phillies used last season. Philadelphia’s third basemen batted .255 with 11 homers and 76 RBIs last year. Dobbs and Helms remain on the roster.
Note: yes, .255 is higher than .253, and 76 is more than 72. Also better: the combined .321 OBP of last years third basemen (versus Feliz’s .290); their 32 doubles (Feliz had 28); and their 59 walks (double Feliz’s 29).
Yes, the Phillies infield defense improves with the addition of Feliz. But to paint this as anything other than a defensive upgrade is just plain dishonest.
Buster Olney wrote today about Jim Rice’s Hall of Fame credentials. The title of the blog entry is “Rice was extraordinary in his time.” I read a lot of Fire Joe Morgan, ShysterBall, Vegas Watch, and other sites that have spent some time over the past few weeks discussing the Hall of Fame arguments made my some members of the media, and Jim Rice has been a fairly popular topic. His candidacy has inspired a lot of passion, at least in part because he played for the Red Sox, whose fans are known for being a bit passionate. (Yankee fans are passionate, too; the difference is that Red Sox fans appear to, you know, LIKE their players.)
So anyway, Buster Olney became the 1,483,671st journalist to write about Jim Rice in the past month, and I am going to become the 2,567,320th blogger to write about the journalists’ writings.
During Jim Rice’s incredible 1978 season, a total of two American League players had on-base percentages over .400: Rod Carew, with .411, and Ken Singleton, at .409. In 2007, eight AL players achieved an OBP of .400 or higher.
I knew we were in for it here, when Buster drew the line at .400. Jim Rice was never close enough to a .400 OBP to even know what it looks like. Rice’s career high OBP was .384, and his career OBP was .352. It reminds me of a few months ago, when Jayson Addcox of MLB.com complained that Juan Pierre “gets knocked for not having his [OBP] higher than .350,” when Pierre’s OBP was actually .324. I could take it to the next extreme and say something like, “It’s been forty years since a pitcher won 30 games in a season, so people really need to get off Chris Capuano’s back for only winning five last year.”
In fact, in the seven seasons played since the start of 2001, there already have been 42 AL players who have posted OBPs of .400 or better; in the entire decade, of 1970-79, there were only 36 AL players who achieved OBPs of .400 or better. It was a time of less offense and fewer runs, a time when teams didn’t value walks the way they do now, a time when the strike zone was larger, a time when hitting 20 homers and driving in 80 runs was an excellent year.
Really? Twenty homers and 80 RBI was an “excellent year”? I’ll give you “solid.” I’ve give you “acceptable for a corner outfielder.” And it’s true that neither of those would apply today. But the 1970s weren’t the freaking Dead Ball Era — guys like Mike Schmidt, Reggie Jackson, Eddie Murray, and Willie McCovey did some major mashing in that decade, all on their way to 500 homers. And more to the point, the fact that there were fewer home runs only makes it MORE valuable and important for a player to get on base often, so the slap hitters around him in the lineup can muster up all their strength to drive him in with three more singles.
So it’s almost laughable to hear and read about how Rice was nothing more than a very good player in his time. Look, if you stick his statistics into offensive formulas tailored for the way the game was played in the ’90s, he’s not going to look as good. Giving him demerits because he failed to draw walks is like diminishing what Pedro Martinez has accomplished because he has only two 20-win seasons.
Either Buster doesn’t know about modern statistics, or he is deliberately ignoring them. “Offensive formulas tailored for the was the game was played in the ’90s”? Come on, now. The whole point of statistical analysis, as far as I can tell, is to AVOID those generational biases. Did you know there are stats that actually … wait for it, wait for it … compare players to their peers?!?
But if you look at him within the context of his time, he was exceptional, as statistics generated by Steve Hirdt and Rob Tracy of the Elias Sports Bureau bear out:
* From 1975 to 1986, Mike Schmidt accumulated 12 seasons of at least 20 homers. Rice ranks second in that time frame, with 11.
* Only two players, in that time frame, accumulated 11 seasons of 85 or more RBI: Schmidt and Rice.
Again, I think this is setting the bar pretty low, even for the 1970s. It’s like looking at quality starts as a qualification for the Cy Young award — it’s the minimum expectation. You know why Jim Rice had at least 20 homers and 85 RBI every season? Because if he didn’t, he would have lost his job to someone who could hit well enough to play a power position like left field.
* The top four in OPS from 1975-1986: Schmidt at .932, George Brett .901, Eddie Murray .876, and Rice .842.
* He’s one of 11 guys to have led his league in total bases at least four times since 1900 (nine Hall of Famers, including eight top-tier Hall of Famers, A-Rod and Rice). Most seasons leading league in total bases (since 1900): Hank Aaron, 8; Rogers Hornsby, 7; Ty Cobb, Babe Ruth, Ted Williams and Stan Musial, 6; Honus Wagner, 5; Chuck Klein, Lou Gehrig, Rice and A-Rod, 4.
* Rice batted .309 in more than 2,000 at-bats with runners in scoring position over his career, 11 points higher than his overall career batting average. Among players with 2,000 RISP at-bats over that span, it was second-highest to Brett’s .316.
* Rice was consistently regarded as one of the best players in the American League: He not only won the MVP Award in 1978 (beating out a pitcher who finished 25-3 and won the pennant-clinching tie-breaker game), but Rice had six top-five finishes in the MVP Award (3rd in 1975, 4th in 1977, 1st in 1978, 5th in 1979, 4th in 1983, 3rd in 1986).
Yes, Jim Rice was a very good hitter for most of the 12 seasons he was good. Olney has always put a lot of stock in the end-of-season awards, which I have always thought was at least a little silly. Back in the 70s, these awards were voted on by reporters who saw only the home team’s games, meaning they saw each visiting player maybe 15 times a year. There wasn’t the TV exposure there is today, either. So the people voting on the awards had only a couple things to go on: newspaper coverage and stats. Did you know that in the entire decade of the 1970s, Boog Powell (1970) was the only hitter to win an American League MVP award without leading the league in batting average, home runs, or RBIs? Those stats were the most important back then, and they were all the voters had to go on. So the fact that Jim Rice got lots of MVP votes doesn’t augment the argument; it’s just another way of saying he was a good power hitter.
But now that we’re on the MVP Train, Buster is determined to derail it and drive it off a bridge into the icy river below…
If you add up the total points accumulated in MVP voting from 1937, add up the annual points each player earned (and convert each year’s points total to its equivalent under the current voting format to account for differences in the number of teams and voters over the years), Rice fares well.
Not surprisingly, Barry Bonds has the most cumulative MVP points, followed by Musial, Williams, Willie Mays, Mickey Mantle, Aaron, A-Rod, Frank Thomas, Schmidt and Joe DiMaggio. But here’s the point on Rice: Only two HOF-eligible players who stand in the top 40 on that list of cumulative MVP points have not been elected to the Hall: Rice (who stands 22nd) and Dave Parker (23rd).
Rice had more adjusted MVP points than HOFers Harmon Killebrew, Ernie Banks, Al Kaline, Johnny Bench, Dave Winfield, Carl Yastrzemski, Cal Ripken, Kirby Puckett, Lou Boudreau, Roberto Clemente, Roy Campanella, Nellie Fox, Ryne Sandberg, Tony Gwynn, Duke Snider, Gary Carter, Robin Yount, Phil Rizzuto, Rod Carew, Pee Wee Reese, Jackie Robinson, Willie McCovey, Lou Brock, Billy Williams, Paul Molitor, Red Schoendienst, Ralph Kiner, Carlton Fisk, Wade Boggs, Charlie Gehringer, Luis Aparicio, Larry Doby, Bobby Doerr, Tony Perez, Richie Ashburn, Enos Slaughter, Bill Mazeroski and Ozzie Smith.
This argument means nothing. Literally, a completely meaningless argument. Does Buster want us to believe that while the style of play has changed dramatically over the decades, the MVP voting has remained the same? I don’t see how an article that starts with a thesis that you can’t compare players from different eras ends up in this territory, comparing MVP votes of players from different eras. Wow.
Rice was a significantly better hitter at home than on the road, hitting .320, with a slugging percentage of .546 and 208 career homers in Fenway, compared with an average of .277 and 174 homers on the road. But again, consider the era, and how much less offense there was. If you were a team, you would like to have the guy considered to be most dominant home-field hitter in the game? Of course you would. Rice was taking advantage of the conditions in the games he played, much as Sandy Koufax did. From 1962-1966, Koufax had a home ERA of .1.37, in the pitcher-friendly Dodger Stadium, and a road ERA of 2.57. Does anyone say that this diminishes what Koufax accomplished, the way it is said about Rice?
No, no one says Koufax was less great because his road ERA was only 2.57. The difference here is that Koufax used his home field advantage to go from being great (2.57 when the league ERA was 3.27) to being immortal; Rice used his home field advantage to go from being good to being really good.
And now, to tie it all together, let’s go back to Buster’s initial thesis, that Jim Rice is judged unfairly because his stats from the Weak 1970s don’t hold up well to the stats tailored to the Strong 1990s. Guess what? Did you know that there are actually stats that tell you how a guy did compared to his peers? And that we have those stats available for everyone who has every played?!?
Jim Rice’s career OPS+ (OPS measured against the league average, and adjusted for ballpark factors) was 128 (remember, 100 is average). So over the course of his career, Jim Rice was 28% better than the average hitter.
I looked at all the hitters in the Hall of Fame, and I found 24 whose primary claim to Fame was as a power hitter. (This includes people like Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, and others who did other things extremely well in addition to power hitting.) I chose these guys because Jim Rice’s Hall of Fame credentials essentially boil down to his power. He was nothing special in the field, his .298 career batting average is good but not great, and he didn’t have any speed to speak of. If he ever gets elected to the Hall of Fame, it will be based mostly on his power.
The average OPS+ of these 24 power hitting Hall of Famers was 151, a full 23 points higher than Rice’s career number. The only one of the 24 with a lower OPS+ was Ernie Banks (122), and you may remember that he hit 512 home runs and played about half his career as a shortstop. Heck, the average OPS+ for the other 116 hitters, the ones who weren’t known mostly for their power — including defensive geniuses like Ozzie Smith and Bill Mazeroski and guys who shouldn’t even be in the Hall — was 123, just five points behind Rice.
Jim Rice was a one-trick pony who tried a few other tricks for a few seasons. He was a really good player for several years. He is not an all-time great, and he does not belong in the Hall of Fame.
The Yankees and A-Rod just finalized their deal. I have a very bad feeling that the timing is not a complete coincidence; I wonder if A-Rod was motivated to get it done before the Mitchell Report come out in 44 minutes. I really hope his name isn’t in there…
UPDATE: A quick search of the PDF version of the Mitchell Report shows only three instances of the word “Rodriguez,” all bibliographical references to Ken Rodriguez. I feel a little better, although Roger Clemens’ involvement, while not totally surprising, really kind of breaks my heart.
