On January 28, 2005:
Doug Mientkiewicz gives back the ball that made the last out of the 2004 World Series.
After making the last out of the 2004 World Series, Mientkiewicz kept the ball (he was the first baseman who received the throw), and he did not give it to the Red Sox (he actually gave it to his wife). Acquired at the July 31st deadline, Mientkiewicz put the ball in safe-keeping, actually a safety-deposit box named his "retirement fund" (he said he was kidding). This, however, was no laughing matter. The Red Sox wanted the ball that had ended their 86-year World Series drought, but Mientkiewicz wasn't budging. Supposedly, both wanted the ball in order to share it with fans.
Making this situation more interesting is the baseball-playing side of things. Mientkiewicz was used to starting, but he didn't play regularly once on the Red Sox. He was unhappy with his playing time. The Red Sox weren't really keen on keeping him, either. They had already said that they would trade either Mientkiewicz or Kevin Millar. So, was Mientkiewicz keeping the ball and holding the Red Sox hostage at the same time? Was he a greedy man?
Well, three weeks after all this started, Mientkiewicz and the Red Sox had a "cordial" (I doubt it was anything but "cordial") meeting in which they agreed that Mientkiewicz (it's a pain to spell and type his name) would rent the ball to the Red Sox for a year. Was he greedy? Well, he did give the ball to the Red Sox and did not receive payment. However, he could have planned to sell it, but when the Red Sox asked for it back, he lost the media battle. Was he holding the team hostage? No. He was traded to the New York Mets the same day for a minor-leaguer and cash. Theo Epstein and the Red Sox would emphasize that the trade had nothing to do with the ball, which seems kosher because they had already stated they would trade one or the other. Then again, this may have made it easier to trade Mientkiewicz (let's just call him "M" from now on).
About the situation, M would say:
"I didn't expect all of this with the ball," he added. "Sometimes in life you think you're doing the right thing and it doesn't turn out that way. That's kind of what happened here. I didn't think it was going to come out to this."
Personally, I don't see how it could have been right. Maybe he didn't really expect all of it, but on a play as important, what made him think it was right to take the ball?
On another odd note, Edgar Renteria, who grounded out to end the World Series, would sign with Boston that off-season. Think he got a bonus?
28 January 2009
Hall of Fame: Carl Hubbell (1947)
Year Ag Tm Lg W L G GS CG SHO GF SV IP H R ER HR BB SO ERA *lgERA *ERA+ WHIP2 MVP awards (1933, 1936)
+--------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+--+------+----+----+----+---+----+----+-----+-----+----+-----+
1928 25 NYG NL 10 6 20 14 8 1 5 1 124.0 117 49 39 7 21 37 2.83 3.90 138 1.113
1929 26 NYG NL 18 11 39 35 19 1 3 1 268.0 273 128 110 17 67 106 3.69 4.57 124 1.269
1930 27 NYG NL 17 12 37 32 17 3 4 2 241.7 263 120 104 11 58 117 3.87 4.72 122 1.328
1931 28 NYG NL 14 12 36 30 21 4 5 3 248.0 211 88 73 14 67 155 2.65 3.71 140 1.121
1932 29 NYG NL 18 11 40 32 22 0 7 2 284.0 260 96 79 20 40 137 2.50 3.72 149 1.056
1933 30 NYG NL 23 12 45 33 22 10 11 5 308.7 256 69 57 6 47 156 1.66 3.20 193 0.982
1934 31 NYG NL 21 12 49 34 25 5 11 8 313.0 286 100 80 17 37 118 2.30 3.86 168 1.032
1935 32 NYG NL 23 12 42 35 24 1 6 0 302.7 314 125 110 27 49 150 3.27 3.86 118 1.199
1936 33 NYG NL 26 6 42 34 25 3 6 3 304.0 265 81 78 7 57 123 2.31 3.90 169 1.059
1937 34 NYG NL 22 8 39 32 18 4 6 4 261.7 261 108 93 18 55 159 3.20 3.87 121 1.208
1938 35 NYG NL 13 10 24 22 13 1 2 1 179.0 171 70 61 16 33 104 3.07 3.78 123 1.140
1939 36 NYG NL 11 9 29 18 10 0 8 2 154.0 150 60 47 11 24 62 2.75 3.92 143 1.130
1940 37 NYG NL 11 12 31 27 11 2 3 0 214.3 220 102 87 22 59 86 3.65 3.89 106 1.302
1941 38 NYG NL 11 9 26 22 11 1 4 1 164.0 169 73 65 10 53 75 3.57 3.71 104 1.354
1942 39 NYG NL 11 8 24 20 11 0 1 0 157.3 158 75 69 17 34 61 3.95 3.35 85 1.220
1943 40 NYG NL 4 4 12 11 3 0 0 0 66.0 87 36 36 7 24 31 4.91 3.44 70 1.682
+--------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+--+------+----+----+----+---+----+----+-----+-----+----+-----+
16 Yr WL% .622 253 154 535 431 260 36 82 33 3590.3 3461 1380 1188 227 725 1677 2.98 3.86 130 1.166
9 All-Star appearances (1933-1938, 1940-1942)
The first player elected by the BBWAA who played only in the "Live Ball" Era, Carl Owen Hubbell was born on June 22, 1903 in Carthage, Missouri. At age 23, he was invited to Spring Training with the Detroit Tigers, but Ty Cobb wasn't too impressed with the young man. Cobb was mainly concerned that Hubbell threw too many screwballs and that they would hurt his arm. Hubbell would be sent to the Toronto Maple Leafs (yes, those Maple Leafs -- are you serious?). He was invited back to the next Spring Training, and Cobb was so unimpressed he sent him two steps further down than Toronto. Hubbell was spectacular, but he did not receive an invitation to the next Spring Training in 1928. Hubbell demanded out, threatening to retire.
After receiving his release, the Giants found him and signed him. John McGraw had watched Christy Mathewson throw a screwball (they called it a "fadeaway"), and he wasn't worried about Hubbell. Hubbell went 10-6 his first season as a Giant, and he would play his entire career with the Giants. In 1933, Hubbell would take a major step forward by going 23-12 with a 1.66 ERA on his way to his first MVP award, and the season ended on another positive note when Hubbell and the Giants won the World Series.
Over the next four seasons, he would win at least each season and would add on another MVP award. In 1934, Hubbell struck out five future Hall of Famers in a row during the All-Star Game (a record -- Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Jimmy Foxx, Al Simmons, and Joe Cronin). In 1936, the cross-town World Series between the Yankees and Giants was depicted as a titanic struggle between Hubbell and Gehrig (Gehrig and the Yankees won, beginning their run of four straight World Series victories), the best pitcher and best hitter in baseball at the time.
Hubbell stayed solid threw the next few years, but in 1943, he declined rapidly and was released. Having done enough, he would be elected to the Hall of Fame in 1947 (the first elected by the BBWAA in five years -- two non-elections followed by two years of no one receiving enough votes). It is said that he threw so many screwballs that his left arm was twisted, his palm facing outward at rest.
Historical Moment -- School has been canceled for today as Lexington is completely covered in an inch of ice with a few inches of snow on top of that. I'm stuck here for the day, so in joy, you all get an extra-special bonus post today. Yay!
27 January 2009
Nap Lajoie vs. Rogers Hornsby
This was sparked by a conversation comparing the two second basemen I had with cyber-friend and fellow baseball history enthusiast Ron Rollins at Baseball Over Here. So, I figured it would be interesting to take a look at the two and compare them. Both are Hall of Fame players, so there's no reason to argue over that. This is simply a look at seeing which second baseman was better. Now that we've looked at both Nap Lajoie and Rogers Hornsby, we can take a look. I'll compare their career stats (unless otherwise noted) and try to help put them in perspective.
Batting Average --> Lajoie .338; Hornsby .358
Hornsby has the edge here by a fairly good margin. One thing to note, however, is that Lajoie played regularly through his age 41 season whereas Hornsby stopped playing regularly after his age 33 season. Playing those seasons could have dropped Hornsby's average back down. Another note for the rest of the offensive numbers, Lajoie played in the "Dead Ball" Era (which supressed offensive numbers) and Hornsby played his best seasons in the "Live Ball" Era. As for batting average, it would have helped Hornsby.
On-Base Percentage --> Lajoie .380; Hornsby .434
Hornsby wins by a lot here. Some of which is helped by his higher batting average, but the difference between his BA and OBP is greater (.076) than Lajoie's (.042), suggesting Hornsby had a better eye and plate discipline. How much the difference in eras tweaked the numbers is difficult to measure. On one hand, he didn't hit the ball (no difference therefore), but pitchers may have been more reluctant to pitch to Hornsby knowing it could go out of the park more often (advantage to Hornsby).
Slugging Percentage --> Lajoie .467; Hornsby .577
Hornsby wins by a healthy bit here, but again, how much did the "Live Ball" era help?
OPS+ --> Lajoie 150; Hornsby 175
Again to Hornsby, and you can assume that OPS also favors Hornsby.
Hits --> Lajoie 3242; Hornsby 2930
Edge this time to Lajoie, but he did have 1400 more at bats. Then again, longevity should count for something.
Runs --> Lajoie 1504; Hornsby 1579
Hornsby wins, but runs were more plentiful when he racked up a large number of those.
RBI's --> Lajoie 1599; Hornsby 1584
Lajoie wins this time, but again, he did have more at-bats, thous Hornsby played in a better offensive era.
Doubles --> Lajoie 657; Hornsby 541
Lajoie wins pretty handily.
Triples --> Lajoie 163; Hornsby 169
Pretty even.
Home Runs --> Lajoie 83; Hornsby 301
Hornsby by a long shot.
Stolen Bases --> Lajoie 380; Hornsby 135
Lajoie was well-known for his stolen bases and speed, but one wonders how much the slight change in philosophy affected Hornsby's running game (he wasn't a sloth by any stretch of the imagination).
Range Factor/Games Played --> Lajoie 5.78 (5.09); Hornsby 5.36 (5.51)
In parentheses are the average major-league numbers for the position -- both at second base only. Lajoie seems to have been a superior defender. His factor is higher, and it is higher than the average for his counterparts. Hornsby's is lower than league average. Again, when looking at defense, there are fewer metrics, but defense is still a large part of the evaluation. If one or the other is a better defender, then it counts for a lot. Another thing to remember is that Lajoie played about 500 more games at second than did Hornsby and at an advanced age. Lajoie's range factor took a hit in those final years, and Hornsby couldn't play it at all in those years (granted, that was because of a severe ankle injury).
Fielding Percentage --> Lajoie .963 (.954); Hornsby .958 (.958)
Pretty much the same indication as above -- Lajoie was a better defender --, though not by much here. Fielding percentage isn't a great tool, but it can be useful. Lajoie's fielding percentage didn't decline too much in the last years, so age seems to have no bearing (I didn't think it would considering you can still catch, but range is more age affected).
Well, when we look strictly at the numbers, Hornsby was a much better hitter but a worse fielder, though not by a whole lot. However, we have to take into account the eras in which they played (though Hornsby played just at the beginning of the "Live Ball" Era, his numbers jumped like Bonds on steroids -- too far? too soon?). The defensive numbers really don't make much of a difference, but the offensive numbers do. When you look at Lajoie pre-age 25, he actually compares favorably to Hornsby until 1920 (the year before the "Live Ball" Era started -- I need to do a post on that). Then again, Lajoie did play in fewer games, thus having a smaller sample size. Hmm ...
Overall, both were excellent second basemen. In the end, however, I'd probably go with Lajoie. Hornsby's numbers, especially power, really spiked after 1921, and he didn't have to suffer the decline that Lajoie did. Lajoie was still pretty useful through age 41, but Hornsby was done after 35 (really more like 33, but I'll cut him some slack). Though, I can't say I wouldn't take Hornsby. The two are really close.
Batting Average --> Lajoie .338; Hornsby .358
Hornsby has the edge here by a fairly good margin. One thing to note, however, is that Lajoie played regularly through his age 41 season whereas Hornsby stopped playing regularly after his age 33 season. Playing those seasons could have dropped Hornsby's average back down. Another note for the rest of the offensive numbers, Lajoie played in the "Dead Ball" Era (which supressed offensive numbers) and Hornsby played his best seasons in the "Live Ball" Era. As for batting average, it would have helped Hornsby.
On-Base Percentage --> Lajoie .380; Hornsby .434
Hornsby wins by a lot here. Some of which is helped by his higher batting average, but the difference between his BA and OBP is greater (.076) than Lajoie's (.042), suggesting Hornsby had a better eye and plate discipline. How much the difference in eras tweaked the numbers is difficult to measure. On one hand, he didn't hit the ball (no difference therefore), but pitchers may have been more reluctant to pitch to Hornsby knowing it could go out of the park more often (advantage to Hornsby).
Slugging Percentage --> Lajoie .467; Hornsby .577
Hornsby wins by a healthy bit here, but again, how much did the "Live Ball" era help?
OPS+ --> Lajoie 150; Hornsby 175
Again to Hornsby, and you can assume that OPS also favors Hornsby.
Hits --> Lajoie 3242; Hornsby 2930
Edge this time to Lajoie, but he did have 1400 more at bats. Then again, longevity should count for something.
Runs --> Lajoie 1504; Hornsby 1579
Hornsby wins, but runs were more plentiful when he racked up a large number of those.
RBI's --> Lajoie 1599; Hornsby 1584
Lajoie wins this time, but again, he did have more at-bats, thous Hornsby played in a better offensive era.
Doubles --> Lajoie 657; Hornsby 541
Lajoie wins pretty handily.
Triples --> Lajoie 163; Hornsby 169
Pretty even.
Home Runs --> Lajoie 83; Hornsby 301
Hornsby by a long shot.
Stolen Bases --> Lajoie 380; Hornsby 135
Lajoie was well-known for his stolen bases and speed, but one wonders how much the slight change in philosophy affected Hornsby's running game (he wasn't a sloth by any stretch of the imagination).
Range Factor/Games Played --> Lajoie 5.78 (5.09); Hornsby 5.36 (5.51)
In parentheses are the average major-league numbers for the position -- both at second base only. Lajoie seems to have been a superior defender. His factor is higher, and it is higher than the average for his counterparts. Hornsby's is lower than league average. Again, when looking at defense, there are fewer metrics, but defense is still a large part of the evaluation. If one or the other is a better defender, then it counts for a lot. Another thing to remember is that Lajoie played about 500 more games at second than did Hornsby and at an advanced age. Lajoie's range factor took a hit in those final years, and Hornsby couldn't play it at all in those years (granted, that was because of a severe ankle injury).
Fielding Percentage --> Lajoie .963 (.954); Hornsby .958 (.958)
Pretty much the same indication as above -- Lajoie was a better defender --, though not by much here. Fielding percentage isn't a great tool, but it can be useful. Lajoie's fielding percentage didn't decline too much in the last years, so age seems to have no bearing (I didn't think it would considering you can still catch, but range is more age affected).
Well, when we look strictly at the numbers, Hornsby was a much better hitter but a worse fielder, though not by a whole lot. However, we have to take into account the eras in which they played (though Hornsby played just at the beginning of the "Live Ball" Era, his numbers jumped like Bonds on steroids -- too far? too soon?). The defensive numbers really don't make much of a difference, but the offensive numbers do. When you look at Lajoie pre-age 25, he actually compares favorably to Hornsby until 1920 (the year before the "Live Ball" Era started -- I need to do a post on that). Then again, Lajoie did play in fewer games, thus having a smaller sample size. Hmm ...
Overall, both were excellent second basemen. In the end, however, I'd probably go with Lajoie. Hornsby's numbers, especially power, really spiked after 1921, and he didn't have to suffer the decline that Lajoie did. Lajoie was still pretty useful through age 41, but Hornsby was done after 35 (really more like 33, but I'll cut him some slack). Though, I can't say I wouldn't take Hornsby. The two are really close.
This Day in Baseball History: January 27th, 1937
Crosley Field not covered in water. The picture of the two pitchers is supposedly famous, but I couldn't find it. If anyone knows how to find it, please let me know.Cincinnati Reds pitchers Gene Schott and Lee Grissom row into Crosley Field on the back of the worst flood in Cincinnati history.
During the winter of 1936 and 1937, water levels on the Ohio River began to rise, and when a severe winter storm slammed into the area, the Ohio River flooded over the banks. From January 10 through 18, flood warnings were issued all over the area, but soon, record rainfalls pushed the river into homes and downtown Cincinnati. On January 23, martial law was declared in Evansville Indiana as the waters reached 54 feet high. By the 26th, water levels reached 80 feet in Cincinnati, and the following day, Louisville was swallowed by 57 feet of water. The river would fall below flood stage until February 5th.
The impacts were devastating. 100,000 were left homeless in Cincinnati, power was cut, and transportation systems shut down. Louisville was hammered as well, losing famed Rose Island theme park and a major rebuilding of the city. In response, the government initially was not ready for such a natural disaster. The government would build several reservoirs along the Ohio River, but they weren't finished until the 1940's. Still, those reservoirs have saved millions in flood damage since.
From the baseball perspective, Crosley Field was not untouched. Indeed, it was covered with 21 feet of water. Here's a look of what it looked like inside Crosley Field during the flood. Gene Schott and Lee Grissom would team up with a groundscrew member and row a boat over the center field wall (where the flood waters came in) and into the field area in a famous stunt. The photographer was there as the three rowed to the pitcher's mound.
Despite the damage, the Reds would still play their home-opener for the 1937 season in Crosley Field, but the team, waterlogged, would finish dead-last with a 56-98 record.
Executives: Ban Johnson
Byron Bancroft Johnson was born January 5, 1864 in Norwalk, Ohio. He first went to Marietta College to study law, but he would not complete his degree. Instead, Johnson went to work for a paper in Cincinnati and eventually became the sports editor. While in Cincinnati, he became friends with Charles Comiskey and Reds owner John Brush. After seeing his intelligence, the two suggested he be the next commissioner of the faltering Western League. A few years later, the Western League, a minor league, was the best-run league in baseball.
How did he do it? Well, Johnson wasn't a fan of the National League. He hated the atmosphere which drove away families and women. In response, he supported his umpires and fined players and managers who disrespected umpires. Johnson would also fine players and managers who used foul language. This created an atmosphere of obedience to a sport without any, and the additional crowds brought in more money.
Johnson, however, still despised the National League, and working with Comiskey, the two set out to make another major league. In 1900, he renamed the Western League the American League, and a year later, he removed the Western League from the National Agreement, which was an understanding between the National League and the other minor leagues. This effectively made the American League a professional league. Johnson placed teams in Baltimore, Boston, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. in order to directly compete with the National League, and when the NL capped salaries at $2,400 in 1901, Johnson pounced. AL teams began to offer larger contracts, and players jumped from the NL to the AL. The AL would win those attendance wars in the big cities and forced the NL to come to an agreement. In the new National Agreement, the NL made the AL a co-major league.
That would be the high point of Johnson's career. Possibly because of his overconfidence in office, Johnson took full control of the American League and would even refuse certain people to join if they disagreed. This caused a rift between the league's teams. Teams began to defy Johnson, and the final straw came in 1920. He refused to believe Comiskey's warnings that the White Sox were fixing the World Series, and when it was discovered, the two leagues decided for another leader to head the two leagues. Kenesaw Landis became that man and took the reins as the first Commissioner of Baseball. Johnson and Landis butted heads, but because Johnson had already caused trouble in the AL, Landis won the battle, officially transforming baseball from Sparta (two kings) to Macedonia (one king).
Johnson was officially pushed out in 1928, but he would still be elected into the Hall of Fame in 1937. An interesting note -- he died on my birthday (March 28) in 1931.
How did he do it? Well, Johnson wasn't a fan of the National League. He hated the atmosphere which drove away families and women. In response, he supported his umpires and fined players and managers who disrespected umpires. Johnson would also fine players and managers who used foul language. This created an atmosphere of obedience to a sport without any, and the additional crowds brought in more money.
Johnson, however, still despised the National League, and working with Comiskey, the two set out to make another major league. In 1900, he renamed the Western League the American League, and a year later, he removed the Western League from the National Agreement, which was an understanding between the National League and the other minor leagues. This effectively made the American League a professional league. Johnson placed teams in Baltimore, Boston, Philadelphia, and Washington D.C. in order to directly compete with the National League, and when the NL capped salaries at $2,400 in 1901, Johnson pounced. AL teams began to offer larger contracts, and players jumped from the NL to the AL. The AL would win those attendance wars in the big cities and forced the NL to come to an agreement. In the new National Agreement, the NL made the AL a co-major league.
That would be the high point of Johnson's career. Possibly because of his overconfidence in office, Johnson took full control of the American League and would even refuse certain people to join if they disagreed. This caused a rift between the league's teams. Teams began to defy Johnson, and the final straw came in 1920. He refused to believe Comiskey's warnings that the White Sox were fixing the World Series, and when it was discovered, the two leagues decided for another leader to head the two leagues. Kenesaw Landis became that man and took the reins as the first Commissioner of Baseball. Johnson and Landis butted heads, but because Johnson had already caused trouble in the AL, Landis won the battle, officially transforming baseball from Sparta (two kings) to Macedonia (one king).
Johnson was officially pushed out in 1928, but he would still be elected into the Hall of Fame in 1937. An interesting note -- he died on my birthday (March 28) in 1931.
26 January 2009
Famous Teams: The Miracle Braves (1914)
An underdog story for the ages, the Boston Braves of 1914 made a remarkable comeback to win the division and the World Series.
Before 1901, the Boston Beaneaters were a very successful major-league team in the National League, but with the arrival of the Boston Americans, an American League team, the Beaneaters ran into some bad luck. The best players, like on so many other teams, ran to the newly-formed American League in search of better salaries, and the Beaneaters' owners didn't even bother to try to match the offers. The Boston Americans would become the Red Sox, and the Beaneaters would become the Doves (frightening), the Rustlers, and, finally, the Braves in 1912. Two years later, they would finally break their string of bad luck.
The bad luck, however, seemed as though it wouldn't stop. Through May 20, the Braves were a dismal 4-18, and they had just lost 9 of 11 (one of the other two was a tie). They were also 11.5 games back. Coming up to July 4, the Braves were 26-38, but with two losses in a doubleheader on Independence Day, the Braves fell to 26-40 and were 15 games back. For the next 53 games, the team looked completely different. Instead of losing 40 more games, they won 41 of the next 53 to take first place from the New York Giants on September 8th. With the pressure on, the Braves would win 25 of 31, but the Giants would play .500 ball (16-16) and lose the division. They became the first team to ever come back from last place on July 4th to win the pennant. Not only did they win the division, they won it by 10.5 games (an amazing 25.5 game turnaround).
Despite this, the "Miracle Braves" were severe underdogs to Connie Mack's Philadelphia Athletics for the World Series. However, just like the rest of the season, the Braves would prove the doubters wrong and sweep the World Series from the A's. It was, in fact, the first four-game World Series sweep (Game 1 of the 1907 World Series ended in a tie on account of darkness -- yeah a World Series game ended in a tie, take that Selig). Some believe that the A's players were upset with A's management and refused to play hard, and others believe that the Series was fixed. Neither has any real evidence.
The 1914 Boston "Miracle" Braves rode the backs of three, relatively unknown starting pitchers. Bill James led the way going 26-7 with a 1.96 ERA, but he was unsuccessful otherwise and his career basically ended when he signed up for the military in 1916. Dick Rudolph would add 26 more wins and a 2.35 ERA, and while he went on to have a few more good seasons, I like him for the fact that he was a spitball pitcher (one of those who was able to continue even after the pitch became illegal). Lefty Tyler added his own 16 wins and 2.69, and he stayed a solid but relatively unspectacular pitcher for the next four seasons. From July 26th on, James and Rudolph were a combined 35-2. The offense was decent with key contributions from OF Joe Connolly (.306, 9 HR, 65 RBI) and 1B Butch Schmidt (.285, 1, 71), but the pitching was the key.
An interesting note -- the last game played at the South End Grounds (the Braves home park) was August 11, 1914, and the Braves would play the remaining home games in Fenway Park until the next season when Braves Field became available.
Before 1901, the Boston Beaneaters were a very successful major-league team in the National League, but with the arrival of the Boston Americans, an American League team, the Beaneaters ran into some bad luck. The best players, like on so many other teams, ran to the newly-formed American League in search of better salaries, and the Beaneaters' owners didn't even bother to try to match the offers. The Boston Americans would become the Red Sox, and the Beaneaters would become the Doves (frightening), the Rustlers, and, finally, the Braves in 1912. Two years later, they would finally break their string of bad luck.
The bad luck, however, seemed as though it wouldn't stop. Through May 20, the Braves were a dismal 4-18, and they had just lost 9 of 11 (one of the other two was a tie). They were also 11.5 games back. Coming up to July 4, the Braves were 26-38, but with two losses in a doubleheader on Independence Day, the Braves fell to 26-40 and were 15 games back. For the next 53 games, the team looked completely different. Instead of losing 40 more games, they won 41 of the next 53 to take first place from the New York Giants on September 8th. With the pressure on, the Braves would win 25 of 31, but the Giants would play .500 ball (16-16) and lose the division. They became the first team to ever come back from last place on July 4th to win the pennant. Not only did they win the division, they won it by 10.5 games (an amazing 25.5 game turnaround).
Despite this, the "Miracle Braves" were severe underdogs to Connie Mack's Philadelphia Athletics for the World Series. However, just like the rest of the season, the Braves would prove the doubters wrong and sweep the World Series from the A's. It was, in fact, the first four-game World Series sweep (Game 1 of the 1907 World Series ended in a tie on account of darkness -- yeah a World Series game ended in a tie, take that Selig). Some believe that the A's players were upset with A's management and refused to play hard, and others believe that the Series was fixed. Neither has any real evidence.
The 1914 Boston "Miracle" Braves rode the backs of three, relatively unknown starting pitchers. Bill James led the way going 26-7 with a 1.96 ERA, but he was unsuccessful otherwise and his career basically ended when he signed up for the military in 1916. Dick Rudolph would add 26 more wins and a 2.35 ERA, and while he went on to have a few more good seasons, I like him for the fact that he was a spitball pitcher (one of those who was able to continue even after the pitch became illegal). Lefty Tyler added his own 16 wins and 2.69, and he stayed a solid but relatively unspectacular pitcher for the next four seasons. From July 26th on, James and Rudolph were a combined 35-2. The offense was decent with key contributions from OF Joe Connolly (.306, 9 HR, 65 RBI) and 1B Butch Schmidt (.285, 1, 71), but the pitching was the key.
An interesting note -- the last game played at the South End Grounds (the Braves home park) was August 11, 1914, and the Braves would play the remaining home games in Fenway Park until the next season when Braves Field became available.
This Day in Baseball History: January 26th, 1990
On January 26th, 1990:
The Boston Red Sox name Elaine Weddington assistant general manager.
Not only is this story incredible because Elaine Weddington is a woman, she was the first black female to reach such a position in baseball. One thing I have always noticed missing from baseball is women. None of the general managers are women (though Kim Ng gave it a run this past off-season). None of the umpires are women. You don't even see many women broadcasters or analysts. I realize that baseball is a game played by men, but I find it odd that more women have not been able to break through into the upper levels of these jobs. Even if a woman cannot compete physically with men on the diamond (not that no woman could, but overall, I think it would be difficult for a woman to get into baseball, especially with the emphasis being on power), she could surely be as good of an analyst, general manager, or umpire. The major obstacle then becomes respect, and it may be extremely difficult for a woman to get any respect from men. Maybe, the lack of respect has even pushed well-qualified women away from the game.
Back to the story at hand, Weddington became the first black female to become the assistant general manager of a professional sports team. If you immediately think Jackie Robinson, there's more of a connection than you might think. She went to St. John's University where she received a scholarship from the Jackie Robinson Foundation and is now a board member for the same foundation. Though named for a baseball player, Weddington is one of the few who have gone into baseball. At the end of Robinson's career, he mentioned the color barrier had been broken for players, but there was still a barrier for managers and general managers. For coaches, the situation has improved, but that isn't the case for general managers.
Working for a law degree, she interned for the Mets during college where she met Lou Gorman, who was the general manager of the Red Sox who hired Weddington and worked with the Mets during Weddington's time there. Weddington would go on to receive a law degree, but instead of working as a lawyer, she turned her attention to baseball contracts. However, the move wasn't easy. Rachel Robinson, Jackie Robinson's widow, states:
"No question there's still not equal opportunity in that area. It's imperative that some of our students go into baseball so other African-American youngsters see that as a possibility. What Elaine is doing helps the cause so much. We always knew she was special, that she was very determined, that she would always extend herself beyond."
Weddington's husband confirms:
"I admire her will because it hasn't been easy for her. I'm sure there are people in her business who had no interest in dealing with a woman, particularly a black woman. But if they didn't have respect for her credentials, she's earned that respect now."
Weddington still works for the Red Sox.
I have a soft spot for women in baseball, so if anyone knows of someone who has worked in baseball, send me an email or leave a comment.
The Boston Red Sox name Elaine Weddington assistant general manager.
Not only is this story incredible because Elaine Weddington is a woman, she was the first black female to reach such a position in baseball. One thing I have always noticed missing from baseball is women. None of the general managers are women (though Kim Ng gave it a run this past off-season). None of the umpires are women. You don't even see many women broadcasters or analysts. I realize that baseball is a game played by men, but I find it odd that more women have not been able to break through into the upper levels of these jobs. Even if a woman cannot compete physically with men on the diamond (not that no woman could, but overall, I think it would be difficult for a woman to get into baseball, especially with the emphasis being on power), she could surely be as good of an analyst, general manager, or umpire. The major obstacle then becomes respect, and it may be extremely difficult for a woman to get any respect from men. Maybe, the lack of respect has even pushed well-qualified women away from the game.
Back to the story at hand, Weddington became the first black female to become the assistant general manager of a professional sports team. If you immediately think Jackie Robinson, there's more of a connection than you might think. She went to St. John's University where she received a scholarship from the Jackie Robinson Foundation and is now a board member for the same foundation. Though named for a baseball player, Weddington is one of the few who have gone into baseball. At the end of Robinson's career, he mentioned the color barrier had been broken for players, but there was still a barrier for managers and general managers. For coaches, the situation has improved, but that isn't the case for general managers.
Working for a law degree, she interned for the Mets during college where she met Lou Gorman, who was the general manager of the Red Sox who hired Weddington and worked with the Mets during Weddington's time there. Weddington would go on to receive a law degree, but instead of working as a lawyer, she turned her attention to baseball contracts. However, the move wasn't easy. Rachel Robinson, Jackie Robinson's widow, states:
"No question there's still not equal opportunity in that area. It's imperative that some of our students go into baseball so other African-American youngsters see that as a possibility. What Elaine is doing helps the cause so much. We always knew she was special, that she was very determined, that she would always extend herself beyond."
Weddington's husband confirms:
"I admire her will because it hasn't been easy for her. I'm sure there are people in her business who had no interest in dealing with a woman, particularly a black woman. But if they didn't have respect for her credentials, she's earned that respect now."
Weddington still works for the Red Sox.
I have a soft spot for women in baseball, so if anyone knows of someone who has worked in baseball, send me an email or leave a comment.
Hall of Fame: Rogers Hornsby (1942)
Year Ag Tm Lg G AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI SB CS BB SO BA OBP SLG *OPS+ TB SH2 MVP awards (1925, 1929)
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---+
1915 19 STL NL 18 57 5 14 2 0 0 4 0 2 2 6 .246 .271 .281 67 16 2
1916 20 STL NL 139 495 63 155 17 15 6 65 17 40 63 .313 .369 .444 150 220 11
1917 21 STL NL 145 523 86 171 24 17 8 66 17 45 34 .327 .385 .484 169 253 17
1918 22 STL NL 115 416 51 117 19 11 5 60 8 40 43 .281 .349 .416 136 173 7
1919 23 STL NL 138 512 68 163 15 9 8 71 17 48 41 .318 .384 .430 151 220 10
1920 24 STL NL 149 589 96 218 44 20 9 94 12 15 60 50 .370 .431 .559 185 329 8
1921 25 STL NL 154 592 131 235 44 18 21 126 13 13 60 48 .397 .458 .639 191 378 15
1922 26 STL NL 154 623 141 250 46 14 42 152 17 12 65 50 .401 .459 .722 207 450 15
1923 27 STL NL 107 424 89 163 32 10 17 83 3 7 55 29 .384 .459 .627 188 266 5
1924 28 STL NL 143 536 121 227 43 14 25 94 5 12 89 32 .424 .507 .696 222 373 13
1925 29 STL NL 138 504 133 203 41 10 39 143 5 3 83 39 .403 .489 .756 210 381 16
1926 30 STL NL 134 527 96 167 34 5 11 93 3 61 39 .317 .388 .463 124 244 16
1927 31 NYG NL 155 568 133 205 32 9 26 125 9 86 38 .361 .448 .586 175 333 26
1928 32 BSN NL 140 486 99 188 42 7 21 94 5 107 41 .387 .498 .632 200 307 25
1929 33 CHC NL 156 602 156 229 47 8 39 149 2 87 65 .380 .459 .679 178 409 22
1930 34 CHC NL 42 104 15 32 5 1 2 18 0 12 12 .308 .385 .433 96 45 3
1931 35 CHC NL 100 357 64 118 37 1 16 90 1 56 23 .331 .421 .574 163 205 5
1932 36 CHC NL 19 58 10 13 2 0 1 7 0 10 4 .224 .357 .310 82 18 0
1933 37 TOT 57 92 11 30 7 0 3 23 1 0 14 7 .326 .426 .500 156 46 0
STL NL 46 83 9 27 6 0 2 21 1 12 6 .325 .423 .470 149 39 0
SLB AL 11 9 2 3 1 0 1 2 0 0 2 1 .333 .455 .778 214 7 0
1934 38 SLB AL 24 23 2 7 2 0 1 11 0 0 7 4 .304 .484 .522 151 12 0
1935 39 SLB AL 10 24 1 5 3 0 0 3 0 0 3 6 .208 .296 .333 60 8 0
1936 40 SLB AL 2 5 1 2 0 0 0 2 0 0 1 0 .400 .500 .400 122 2 0
1937 41 SLB AL 20 56 7 18 3 0 1 11 0 0 7 5 .321 .397 .429 108 24 0
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---+
23 Seasons 8173 2930 169 1584 64 679 .358 .434 .577 175 216
2259 1579 541 301 135 1038 4712
2 Triple Crowns (1922, 1925)
Rogers Hornsby was born April 27, 1896 in Chicago, Illinois. Hornsby is obviously the last name of his father, but his mother's maiden name would not be left out either. It was Rogers. Scarred for life.
At the age of 19, Hornsby joined the St. Louis Cardinals toward the end of the 1915, and he would become a regular starting in the 1916 season. He, however, did not originally play the position he was famous for -- second base. Instead, he played a majority of the time at third and would play occasionally at the other positions in the infield. Hornsby would not move to second until the 1920 season. Very productive in the "Dead Ball Era", Hornsby would become more so during the "Live Ball Era" that began in 1921.
Previous to the 1921 season, his highest batting average was .370 (while remarkable, just wait), most doubles were 24, and most home runs were 9. Over the next five seasons, Hornsby would not hit lower than .384 and would hit .400 three times (.397 in the other season), hit fewer than 32 doubles (the other four seasons ranged from 41-46), or hit fewer than 17 home runs (including seasons of 42 and 39 -- the up and downs of his home run production are staggering). In 1922, he became the only player in major league history that hit .400 with 40 HR.
He would slow down in 1926 by hitting only .317, but it wasn't all bad as he and the Cardinals won the World Series. During the off-season, Hornsby was traded to the New York Giants for Frankie Frisch (a Hall of Famer but not as good as Hornsby) and Jimmy Ring (not good at all). Hornsby rebounded the next season, but he was traded again the next off-season to the Boston Braves. Hornsby continued to be a great player for the Braves, but just to be perplexing, the Braves traded him to the Chicago Cubs the next off-season.
After a productive 1929 campaign, Hornsby broke his ankle and would never be the same player. Released by the Cubs after the 1930 season (most of which spent on the bench), Hornsby caught on with the St. Louis Browns and spent the rest of his career as a pinch-hitter.
Off the field, Hornsby wasn't quite so admirable. He didn't drink or smoke, but he frequently gambled. Even worse, he admitted to being a member of the Ku Klux Clan. The great second baseman didn't even make friends in baseball, and he supposedly threatened to expose Kenesaw Landis, baseball's commissioner, and his stock market scandal when Landis threatened punishment for Hornsby's gambling.
Regardless, Hornsby was elected to the Hall of Fame in 1942 with 78.2% of the vote (182 of 233).
24 January 2009
This Day in Baseball History: January 24th, 1913
On January 24, 1913:
Detroit President Frank Navin suggests moving back the "coacher's boxes" to speed up games.
American League President Ban Johnson was worried about the length of games going over two hours (now, we worry about three hours and are impressed by two hour games), so he sent out a letter to all American League teams saying that they would need to find a way to decrease game times. In response, Navin believes that if the "coacher's boxes" ("coach" was strickly a verb at the time, so they used the word "coacher") are moved back, the problem will be solved.
It seems like an odd thing to say. If you want to decrease game time, there seem be a few more ways of doing it, but even Washington's manager Clark Griffith agrees. Here's why. At that point in baseball history, the catchers stood (not crouched -- okay, they were slightly bent) farther back from the hitter than they do now. As a result, it was significantly easier to see what the calls were, and consequently, it made it easier to hit. To combat this problem, catchers took more time and care to hide their signals. Therefore, the games took longer as the catchers took longer to give the pitchers the signal.
Just for a quick reminder on the rules about "coacher's boxes" (Rule 4.05):
(a) The offensive team shall station two base coaches on the field during its term at bat, one near first base and one near third base. (b) Base coaches shall be limited to two in number and shall (1) be in team uniform, and (2) remain within the coach’s box at all times. PENALTY: The offending base coach shall be removed from the game, and shall leave the playing field. Rule 4.05 Comment: It has been common practice for many years for some coaches to put one foot outside the coach’s box or stand astride or otherwise be slightly outside the coaching box lines. The coach shall not be considered out of the box unless the opposing manager complains, and then, the umpire shall strictly enforce the rule and require all coaches (on both teams) to remain in the coach’s box at all times. It is also common practice for a coach who has a play at his base to leave the coach’s box to signal the player to slide, advance or return to a base. This may be allowed if the coach does not interfere with the play in any manner.
In other words, following the rules is completely optional unless someone calls you out on it. If I'm the opposing manager of a team who had Gary Sheffield in his prime and hated the opposing third-base coach, I'd bring this little rule up.
Speeding up of games is still a problem in baseball. Some, like Shyster, have advocated the murder of Steve Trachsel. Other thoughts: shorter commercial breaks (yeah right), hitters aren't allowed out of the box unless absolutely necessary, not letting Christy Mathewson go to the showers before the end of the game, not allowing Terry Pendleton to eat chili before games, and forcing Nomar Garciaparra to leave his flippin' batting gloves alone.
Detroit President Frank Navin suggests moving back the "coacher's boxes" to speed up games.
American League President Ban Johnson was worried about the length of games going over two hours (now, we worry about three hours and are impressed by two hour games), so he sent out a letter to all American League teams saying that they would need to find a way to decrease game times. In response, Navin believes that if the "coacher's boxes" ("coach" was strickly a verb at the time, so they used the word "coacher") are moved back, the problem will be solved.
It seems like an odd thing to say. If you want to decrease game time, there seem be a few more ways of doing it, but even Washington's manager Clark Griffith agrees. Here's why. At that point in baseball history, the catchers stood (not crouched -- okay, they were slightly bent) farther back from the hitter than they do now. As a result, it was significantly easier to see what the calls were, and consequently, it made it easier to hit. To combat this problem, catchers took more time and care to hide their signals. Therefore, the games took longer as the catchers took longer to give the pitchers the signal.
Just for a quick reminder on the rules about "coacher's boxes" (Rule 4.05):
(a) The offensive team shall station two base coaches on the field during its term at bat, one near first base and one near third base. (b) Base coaches shall be limited to two in number and shall (1) be in team uniform, and (2) remain within the coach’s box at all times. PENALTY: The offending base coach shall be removed from the game, and shall leave the playing field. Rule 4.05 Comment: It has been common practice for many years for some coaches to put one foot outside the coach’s box or stand astride or otherwise be slightly outside the coaching box lines. The coach shall not be considered out of the box unless the opposing manager complains, and then, the umpire shall strictly enforce the rule and require all coaches (on both teams) to remain in the coach’s box at all times. It is also common practice for a coach who has a play at his base to leave the coach’s box to signal the player to slide, advance or return to a base. This may be allowed if the coach does not interfere with the play in any manner.
In other words, following the rules is completely optional unless someone calls you out on it. If I'm the opposing manager of a team who had Gary Sheffield in his prime and hated the opposing third-base coach, I'd bring this little rule up.
Speeding up of games is still a problem in baseball. Some, like Shyster, have advocated the murder of Steve Trachsel. Other thoughts: shorter commercial breaks (yeah right), hitters aren't allowed out of the box unless absolutely necessary, not letting Christy Mathewson go to the showers before the end of the game, not allowing Terry Pendleton to eat chili before games, and forcing Nomar Garciaparra to leave his flippin' batting gloves alone.
Hall of Fame: The Museum (1939)
When the Mills Commission decided on Abner Doubleday as the inventor of baseball, Cooperstown became a holy place for baseball, but it wasn't until 1934, when the "Doubleday Ball" was discovered in an attic, that Cooperstown cemented itself as the spot for baseball. Stephen C. Clark bought the ball for $5, and he sought to have it and other baseball artifacts displayed. He chose a one-room spot in the Village Club, and after the public showed particular enthusiasm, Clark and partner Alexander Cleland sought and received the support for a museum from the National and American League.
Ford Frick, then President of the National League, wanted the Hall of Fame to enshrine great players and people in baseball. The first election occurred in 1936, but the Hall of Fame Museum did not open until June 12, 1939. Memorabilia began pouring in as soon as word got out about the museum, and it hasn't stopped.
Expansions in 1950 and 1980 have enlarged the museum as baseball history has continued to grow. The museum has also been updated. In 1994, the Library was renovated (the Library was added in 1968), and renovations transformed the museum in the early 2000's, making for larger hallways and easier flow.
Let's go back to 1939. Baseball wanted a way to celebrate its 100th year (remember, Doubleday "discovered" baseball in 1939, and Doubleday was a key advertising strategy for the museum), and the opening of the Hall of Fame seemed the perfect opportunity. The four major executives -- Frick, Kenesaw Landis (baseball's commissioner), Willam Harridge (President of the American League), and William Branham (President of the National Association) -- were all involved in the ribbon-cutting. Of the 25 people elected to the Hall of Fame already, only 11 were still alive, but all of them came. Later in the year, Lou Gehrig would also be elected to the Hall of Fame in order for him to be alive for his induction (the official results of that ballot have never officially been released).
As for the voting procedures at the time, they were still evolving. At the time, there was no waiting period or restriction against electing active players (although it was frowned upon), and there was an election every year. The annual elections, however, stopped in 1939 at the opening of the museum, and they were to only take place every three years (1940, 1941, and 1943 do not have classes). That rule didn't last long as public outcry caused them to go back to electing every year in 1944. In 1946, the Hall instituted a one-year retirement requirement to be elected, and in 1954, the modern rule of waiting five years after one's retirement began (an exception was made for Joe DiMaggio).
I have never been to the Hall of Fame Museum in Cooperstown, but I hope to go sometime soon. Actually, I am applying for an internship there for this summer, but we'll see how that goes.
Ford Frick, then President of the National League, wanted the Hall of Fame to enshrine great players and people in baseball. The first election occurred in 1936, but the Hall of Fame Museum did not open until June 12, 1939. Memorabilia began pouring in as soon as word got out about the museum, and it hasn't stopped.
Expansions in 1950 and 1980 have enlarged the museum as baseball history has continued to grow. The museum has also been updated. In 1994, the Library was renovated (the Library was added in 1968), and renovations transformed the museum in the early 2000's, making for larger hallways and easier flow.
Let's go back to 1939. Baseball wanted a way to celebrate its 100th year (remember, Doubleday "discovered" baseball in 1939, and Doubleday was a key advertising strategy for the museum), and the opening of the Hall of Fame seemed the perfect opportunity. The four major executives -- Frick, Kenesaw Landis (baseball's commissioner), Willam Harridge (President of the American League), and William Branham (President of the National Association) -- were all involved in the ribbon-cutting. Of the 25 people elected to the Hall of Fame already, only 11 were still alive, but all of them came. Later in the year, Lou Gehrig would also be elected to the Hall of Fame in order for him to be alive for his induction (the official results of that ballot have never officially been released).
As for the voting procedures at the time, they were still evolving. At the time, there was no waiting period or restriction against electing active players (although it was frowned upon), and there was an election every year. The annual elections, however, stopped in 1939 at the opening of the museum, and they were to only take place every three years (1940, 1941, and 1943 do not have classes). That rule didn't last long as public outcry caused them to go back to electing every year in 1944. In 1946, the Hall instituted a one-year retirement requirement to be elected, and in 1954, the modern rule of waiting five years after one's retirement began (an exception was made for Joe DiMaggio).
I have never been to the Hall of Fame Museum in Cooperstown, but I hope to go sometime soon. Actually, I am applying for an internship there for this summer, but we'll see how that goes.
23 January 2009
This Day in Baseball History: January 23rd, 1967
On January 23, 1967:
Stan Musial becomes the GM of the St. Louis Cardinals.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, this is "Stan Musial Love Week" on Wheel of Fortune.
After a stellar playing career as Cardinal, Musial retired and became involved in the front office in St. Louis. When Bob Howsam was fired after a seemingly unsuccessful tenure, Musial won the general manager's position in 1967, and his team would go on to win the World Series. Musial is the only general manager to win the World Series in his only season as general manager.
Why did he quit? According to Joe Posnanski (who I figured had something relating to this), Musial admitted that he really had no idea what he was doing, and he really just watched the team win. It's pretty much true. He made no major moves to help the team. Musial once mentioned, "I have a darn good job, but please don't ask me what I do." He honestly decided to go do something he knew about it, and he became a successful businessman.
The interesting part about this is something Posnanski observes about GM's -- do they ever get the credit/criticism they deserve? Howsam brought in Orlando Cepeda, who was the NL MVP in that 1967 season, but he was the one fired. Musial won the World Series.
Honestly, I don't know how to answer that question. John Schuerholz, I believe, deserves a lot of the credit for building and maintaining the Braves for all those years (a long tenure is probably the only way to truly judge), but in the same way, I think he's also the reason the Braves have gone downhill recently. Frank Wren didn't necessarily make a bad team (Jayson Stark even picked them to win the World Series last season) last season, and honestly, I think he's done some shrewd manuvering as GM. I think Theo Epstein deserves a lot of the credit for the Red Sox being as good as they are/have been. Andrew Friedman has done an excellent job with the Rays, but didn't Chuck Lamar have something to do with it as well?
Then, you have to think about the other people involved -- the scouts, assistant general managers, coaches, and other personnel. They contribute. Do the GM's deserve to be the ones who deserve all the credit, even when they get any (do you ever think when you see "the Rays have done such a good job getting young talent", where's Friedman's name?)?
Then, think about the luck involved. How do you know who's going to be good/succeed/stay healthy? You can look at all the scouting reports and medical reports you want, but there's no one way to pick that player. Most people didn't really like the JD Drew to Atlanta trade, but it worked out pretty well (though I would love to have Wainwright wright now). He played well and stayed healthy. Look at the Sabathia and Teixeira trades. Do we really know if they'll do well? Will they stay healthy? Will Burnett be the most healthy of the group? If there's so much uncertainty, do the GM's deserve any credit?
It's like with American presidents and the economy. Did Clinton really do great things that led to the great economy we had then, or did Reagan and Bush's policies really achieve all that? Do we ever really know? We can look back now with historical perspective and say where the good decisions were, but even then, can we give people credit for making good decisions when they weren't necessarily at the time? Remember, Cepeda had major knee problems before he came to St. Louis.
In the end, it's easier to ask questions than to answer them.
Stan Musial becomes the GM of the St. Louis Cardinals.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, this is "Stan Musial Love Week" on Wheel of Fortune.
After a stellar playing career as Cardinal, Musial retired and became involved in the front office in St. Louis. When Bob Howsam was fired after a seemingly unsuccessful tenure, Musial won the general manager's position in 1967, and his team would go on to win the World Series. Musial is the only general manager to win the World Series in his only season as general manager.
Why did he quit? According to Joe Posnanski (who I figured had something relating to this), Musial admitted that he really had no idea what he was doing, and he really just watched the team win. It's pretty much true. He made no major moves to help the team. Musial once mentioned, "I have a darn good job, but please don't ask me what I do." He honestly decided to go do something he knew about it, and he became a successful businessman.
The interesting part about this is something Posnanski observes about GM's -- do they ever get the credit/criticism they deserve? Howsam brought in Orlando Cepeda, who was the NL MVP in that 1967 season, but he was the one fired. Musial won the World Series.
Honestly, I don't know how to answer that question. John Schuerholz, I believe, deserves a lot of the credit for building and maintaining the Braves for all those years (a long tenure is probably the only way to truly judge), but in the same way, I think he's also the reason the Braves have gone downhill recently. Frank Wren didn't necessarily make a bad team (Jayson Stark even picked them to win the World Series last season) last season, and honestly, I think he's done some shrewd manuvering as GM. I think Theo Epstein deserves a lot of the credit for the Red Sox being as good as they are/have been. Andrew Friedman has done an excellent job with the Rays, but didn't Chuck Lamar have something to do with it as well?
Then, you have to think about the other people involved -- the scouts, assistant general managers, coaches, and other personnel. They contribute. Do the GM's deserve to be the ones who deserve all the credit, even when they get any (do you ever think when you see "the Rays have done such a good job getting young talent", where's Friedman's name?)?
Then, think about the luck involved. How do you know who's going to be good/succeed/stay healthy? You can look at all the scouting reports and medical reports you want, but there's no one way to pick that player. Most people didn't really like the JD Drew to Atlanta trade, but it worked out pretty well (though I would love to have Wainwright wright now). He played well and stayed healthy. Look at the Sabathia and Teixeira trades. Do we really know if they'll do well? Will they stay healthy? Will Burnett be the most healthy of the group? If there's so much uncertainty, do the GM's deserve any credit?
It's like with American presidents and the economy. Did Clinton really do great things that led to the great economy we had then, or did Reagan and Bush's policies really achieve all that? Do we ever really know? We can look back now with historical perspective and say where the good decisions were, but even then, can we give people credit for making good decisions when they weren't necessarily at the time? Remember, Cepeda had major knee problems before he came to St. Louis.
In the end, it's easier to ask questions than to answer them.
Hall of Fame: Lou Gehrig (1939)
Year Ag Tm Lg G AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI SB CS BB SO BA OBP SLG *OPS+ TB SH2 MVP awards (1927, 1936)
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---+
1923 20 NYY AL 13 26 6 11 4 1 1 9 0 0 2 5 .423 .464 .769 218 20 1
1924 21 NYY AL 10 12 2 6 1 0 0 5 0 0 1 3 .500 .538 .583 189 7 0
1925 22 NYY AL 126 437 73 129 23 10 20 68 6 3 46 49 .295 .365 .531 127 232 12
1926 23 NYY AL 155 572 135 179 47 20 16 112 6 5 105 73 .313 .420 .549 152 314 18
1927 24 NYY AL 155 584 149 218 52 18 47 175 10 8 109 84 .373 .474 .765 221 447 21
1928 25 NYY AL 154 562 139 210 47 13 27 142 4 11 95 69 .374 .467 .648 194 364 16
1929 26 NYY AL 154 553 127 166 32 10 35 126 4 4 122 68 .300 .431 .584 166 323 12
1930 27 NYY AL 154 581 143 220 42 17 41 174 12 14 101 63 .379 .473 .721 203 419 18
1931 28 NYY AL 155 619 163 211 31 15 46 184 17 12 117 56 .341 .446 .662 194 410 2
1932 29 NYY AL 156 596 138 208 42 9 34 151 4 11 108 38 .349 .451 .621 181 370 1
1933 30 NYY AL 152 593 138 198 41 12 32 139 9 13 92 42 .334 .424 .605 177 359 1
1934 31 NYY AL 154 579 128 210 40 6 49 165 9 5 109 31 .363 .465 .706 208 409 0
1935 32 NYY AL 149 535 125 176 26 10 30 119 8 7 132 38 .329 .466 .583 176 312 0
1936 33 NYY AL 155 579 167 205 37 7 49 152 3 4 130 46 .354 .478 .696 190 403 3
1937 34 NYY AL 157 569 138 200 37 9 37 159 4 3 127 49 .351 .473 .643 177 366 0
1938 35 NYY AL 157 576 115 170 32 6 29 114 6 1 107 75 .295 .410 .523 132 301 1
1939 36 NYY AL 8 28 2 4 0 0 0 1 0 0 5 1 .143 .273 .143 10 4 0
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---
17 Seasons 8001 2721 163 1995 101 790 .340 .447 .632 179 106
2164 1888 534 493 102 1508 5060
1 Triple Crown (1934)
7 All-Star Game (1933-1939)
Quick trivia question before we get started. True or False: no one has ever been elected unanimously to the Hall of Fame. If you said true, you're right. No one has ever been elected to the Hall of Fame in a regular voting situation. However, if you said false, you are also right. Gehrig was voted in unanimously to the Hall of Fame in 1939. Read to find out what made him special (I realize you know the answer but read anyway).
Henry Louis Gehrig was born on June 19, 1903 in Manhattan. At 14 pounds, he was a massive baby, but it would not match the legacy he would leave in baseball. Neither of his parents approved of baseball as a profession, but he would go on to play for Columbia University. Initially, there was confusion about Gehrig playing for a professional, but ultimately, he was allowed to play (he was also an amazing fullback for the football team). Gehrig first garnered the attention of the baseball world by blasting a grand slam out of what is now Wrigley Field as a 17-year old.
His first few seasons in the majors (1923 and 1924) were unsuccessful in terms of playing time, but he would get the full-time job on May 31, 1925. The famous streak had begun. Gehrig really broke through in 1926, and he followed it up with an outstanding 1927 season with an astounding .374/.467/.765 (221 OPS+! Holy crap) with 47 HR and 175 RBI., but he was largely overshadowed (literally and figuratively) by Babe Ruth's 60 homer season. The two would continue to compete but also become great friends, teaming to make the Yankees a marquee franchise. On June 3, 1932, Gehrig accomplished something Ruth could not by becoming the first player in baseball history to hit 4 home runs in a game (and a fifth had been taken away by a great catch), but John McGraw chose to retire the same day, leaving Gehrig overshadowed yet again.
The "Iron Man" had a few times where his streak could have ended before the magic 2,130 number. On April 23, 1933, he was struck in the head by a pitch, almost went unconscious, and still stayed in the game. A month and a half later, he was ejected from the game, but luckily, he had one at-bat already (thus, the streak continued). One year and one month later, he suffered a lumbago attack, so the Yankee skipper put him at lead-off and shortstop. He hit once (a single remarkably) and was replaced by a pinch-runner (some say that this might have been the first indication of what was to come). Gehrig also broke several bones while playing but never took a day off. Cal Ripken would later break the record.
Gehrig's career and streak would end on May 2, 1939 when he took himself out of the lineup. His performance began steadily diminishing in the middle of the 1938 season, but he completely collapsed to begin the 1939 campaign. He took himself out of the lineup, discouraged but not sure what was happening. His wife took him to the Mayo Clinic, where he was diagnosed with ALS (I won't get into too many details about this here, but look for a post closer to the day of his famous speech or on May 2; I want these to be more about the playing careers). On June 21, he would stand in Yankee Stadium and reveal his diagnosis. In December, he would be unanimously elected to the Hall of Fame in a specially called election in which he was the only player on the ballot (all things considered, whoever did not vote for him would have been kidnapped, strung up naked in public, scorched, skinned, and beaten severely before being suffocated, not to mention what would have happened to the body afterward).
The disease would slowly move up his body, and he died almost two years after his speech on June 2, 1941.
22 January 2009
"Inventing Baseball": Daniel Adams
Out of the muck that brought us Abner Doubleday and Alexander Cartwright comes Daniel Adams. Adams was born on November 1, 1814 in Mont Vernon, New Hampshire to a fairly well-known medical doctor also named Daniel Adams (I think the younger's middle name of Lucius keeps them from being Senior and Junior). The younger Adams followed in his father's footsteps and began to practice medicine, first in Mont Vernon, then Boston, and finally New York. He took special care of the poor. By the 1840's, he was a well-respected doctor.
While in New York, Adams discovered baseball. He started out playing with the unorganized New York Base Ball Club (remember how I told you that there was "evidence" of baseball before Cartwright's rules of 1845; well, here it is), which did not exactly use the same rules Cartwright would later establish (ie. they didn't use nine men until later), in 1839, but the group quickly dissolved. Some of the younger members decided to found the Knickerbocker Base Ball Club in 1845, and Adams was the first president and helped Cartwright with the rules.
One of the crucial breaks with rounders Adams is credited with is the use of a shortstop. Previously, the teams usually had a catcher, pitcher, 3 infielders, and 3 outfielders, but as the game became more popular, which allowed for more players, Adams became the first person to occupy a space other than a base.
Another addition Adams helped bring was the baseball, itself. At the beginning, outfielders had a hard time throwing the ball very far (one reason Adams became shortstop was to add another relay man to get the ball in -- the first double-cut! I'm too excited about that) because the ball was too light. A saddler showed him how to use horsehide, so Adams used some rubber pieces, wound them with yarn, and put the horsehide on the outside. The ball wasn't very hard, but it was a start.
Adams would continue for awhile as Knickerbocker President, adding and refining rules, but he retired sometime around 1862 after marrying. He would also retire from the medical profession around the same time. His last game was an old-timer's game, but he would continue to teach his children the game.
Adams is another "father" of baseball, but that's not to be confused with the actual inventor. Like Cartwright, however, he should be credited with the organization and popularization of the game. Despite the influence Adams had on the game, he has not been elected to the Hall of Fame, which is odd but Adams' contributions haven't been as well publicized and the Hall of Fame may be tired of awarding plaques to "inventors". Maybe we can exchange Jim Rice for Adams?
While in New York, Adams discovered baseball. He started out playing with the unorganized New York Base Ball Club (remember how I told you that there was "evidence" of baseball before Cartwright's rules of 1845; well, here it is), which did not exactly use the same rules Cartwright would later establish (ie. they didn't use nine men until later), in 1839, but the group quickly dissolved. Some of the younger members decided to found the Knickerbocker Base Ball Club in 1845, and Adams was the first president and helped Cartwright with the rules.
One of the crucial breaks with rounders Adams is credited with is the use of a shortstop. Previously, the teams usually had a catcher, pitcher, 3 infielders, and 3 outfielders, but as the game became more popular, which allowed for more players, Adams became the first person to occupy a space other than a base.
Another addition Adams helped bring was the baseball, itself. At the beginning, outfielders had a hard time throwing the ball very far (one reason Adams became shortstop was to add another relay man to get the ball in -- the first double-cut! I'm too excited about that) because the ball was too light. A saddler showed him how to use horsehide, so Adams used some rubber pieces, wound them with yarn, and put the horsehide on the outside. The ball wasn't very hard, but it was a start.
Adams would continue for awhile as Knickerbocker President, adding and refining rules, but he retired sometime around 1862 after marrying. He would also retire from the medical profession around the same time. His last game was an old-timer's game, but he would continue to teach his children the game.
Adams is another "father" of baseball, but that's not to be confused with the actual inventor. Like Cartwright, however, he should be credited with the organization and popularization of the game. Despite the influence Adams had on the game, he has not been elected to the Hall of Fame, which is odd but Adams' contributions haven't been as well publicized and the Hall of Fame may be tired of awarding plaques to "inventors". Maybe we can exchange Jim Rice for Adams?
This Day in Baseball History: January 22nd, 1982
On January 22, 1982:
Reggie Jackson ended his tumultuous tenure in New York by signing a four-year contract with the California Angels.
After nine very successful seasons, Reggie Jackson took his very large ego to the only city in which it could fit -- New York (he said that if he had played in New York previously that he would have a candy bar named after him, and sure enough when he came to the Yankees, they did). However, Jackson's arrival quickly brought problems for the Yankees.
The first incident came during an interview for SPORT magazine. While having a drink with reporter Robert Ward, Jackson supposedly stated that he "was the straw that stirred the drink. Maybe I should say me and Munson, but he stir it bad." Jackson immediately responded by saying his comments were taken out of context, but making a disparaging remark about Thurman Munson was a no-no. Mr. October's relationship with his new team, owner, and fanbase strained.
Next came manager Billy Martin. When the signing was announced, George Steinbrenner, Munson, and Lou Pinella (an outfielder at the time) were ecstatic to bring him aboard, but Martin was never keen on Jackson. The situation came to a head during the June 18 game in Fenway Park. Jim Rice the Feared came to the plate and stroked a ball into right. Jackson didn't exactly hustle and Rice got to second. Martin yanked Jackson, and Jackson, not happy, said that Martin's drinking impaired the manager's judgment. Martin, more unhappy, lunged at Jackson and had to be restrained. Luckily, this game was in Fenway Park, against the Yankees' bitter rival, and on national television. The result: this.
On July 17, Jackson failed to run out a grounder, and Martin suspended him. Making things worse, Martin, six days later, grumbled, "They're made for each other. One's a born liar, the other's convicted." Martin resigned the next day (though some say he was fired).
Then, George Steinbrenner got involved. In 1981, he consulted Jackson about signing Dave Winfield, and Jackson hoped a new deal would be worked out with himself as well. That never materialized, and when he was told to take a physical after the strike, Jackson openly blasted Steinbrenner in the media. During the World Series, Jackson wasn't allowed to play Game 3 (he was injured the first two games, but he was healthy and apparently benched under Steinbrenner's orders).
Jackson took the next off-season's opportunity to sign with the Angels to escape the "Bronx Zoo".
A couple thoughts. One, he couldn't have been that bad if the Yankees were still in negotiations in 1982. Two, Martin wasn't a saint, either (check the above link about the Red Sox game). Three, Steinbrenner isn't a saint. Four, are you serious that the team also had Lou Pinella? How could anyone not expect that to go bad (yes, I realize that's Hindsight Bias 101)? I guess you could blame Jackson for being a selfish, moronic butthead, but I think just about everyone had a hand in it as well. Before anyone asks, no I didn't see the ESPN series about it, but I want to. If you know where to find it or if it was any good, please let me know.
Reggie Jackson ended his tumultuous tenure in New York by signing a four-year contract with the California Angels.
After nine very successful seasons, Reggie Jackson took his very large ego to the only city in which it could fit -- New York (he said that if he had played in New York previously that he would have a candy bar named after him, and sure enough when he came to the Yankees, they did). However, Jackson's arrival quickly brought problems for the Yankees.
The first incident came during an interview for SPORT magazine. While having a drink with reporter Robert Ward, Jackson supposedly stated that he "was the straw that stirred the drink. Maybe I should say me and Munson, but he stir it bad." Jackson immediately responded by saying his comments were taken out of context, but making a disparaging remark about Thurman Munson was a no-no. Mr. October's relationship with his new team, owner, and fanbase strained.
Next came manager Billy Martin. When the signing was announced, George Steinbrenner, Munson, and Lou Pinella (an outfielder at the time) were ecstatic to bring him aboard, but Martin was never keen on Jackson. The situation came to a head during the June 18 game in Fenway Park. Jim Rice the Feared came to the plate and stroked a ball into right. Jackson didn't exactly hustle and Rice got to second. Martin yanked Jackson, and Jackson, not happy, said that Martin's drinking impaired the manager's judgment. Martin, more unhappy, lunged at Jackson and had to be restrained. Luckily, this game was in Fenway Park, against the Yankees' bitter rival, and on national television. The result: this.
On July 17, Jackson failed to run out a grounder, and Martin suspended him. Making things worse, Martin, six days later, grumbled, "They're made for each other. One's a born liar, the other's convicted." Martin resigned the next day (though some say he was fired).
Then, George Steinbrenner got involved. In 1981, he consulted Jackson about signing Dave Winfield, and Jackson hoped a new deal would be worked out with himself as well. That never materialized, and when he was told to take a physical after the strike, Jackson openly blasted Steinbrenner in the media. During the World Series, Jackson wasn't allowed to play Game 3 (he was injured the first two games, but he was healthy and apparently benched under Steinbrenner's orders).
Jackson took the next off-season's opportunity to sign with the Angels to escape the "Bronx Zoo".
A couple thoughts. One, he couldn't have been that bad if the Yankees were still in negotiations in 1982. Two, Martin wasn't a saint, either (check the above link about the Red Sox game). Three, Steinbrenner isn't a saint. Four, are you serious that the team also had Lou Pinella? How could anyone not expect that to go bad (yes, I realize that's Hindsight Bias 101)? I guess you could blame Jackson for being a selfish, moronic butthead, but I think just about everyone had a hand in it as well. Before anyone asks, no I didn't see the ESPN series about it, but I want to. If you know where to find it or if it was any good, please let me know.
Hall of Fame: Willie Keeler (1939)
Year Ag Tm Lg G AB R H 2B 3B HR RBI SB CS BB SO BA OBP SLG *OPS+ TB SH
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---+
1892 20 NYG NL 14 53 7 17 3 0 0 6 5 3 3 .321 .368 .377 126 20
1893 21 TOT NL 27 104 19 33 3 2 2 16 5 9 5 .317 .377 .442 121 46
NYG NL 7 24 5 8 2 1 1 7 3 5 1 .333 .448 .625 183 15
BRO NL 20 80 14 25 1 1 1 9 2 4 4 .313 .353 .388 101 31
1894 22 BLN NL 129 590 165 219 27 22 5 94 32 40 6 .371 .427 .517 123 305
1895 23 BLN NL 131 565 162 213 24 15 4 78 47 37 12 .377 .429 .494 134 279 21
1896 24 BLN NL 126 544 153 210 22 13 4 82 67 37 9 .386 .432 .496 142 270 13
1897 25 BLN NL 129 564 145 239 27 19 0 74 64 35 .424 .464 .539 164 304 12
1898 26 BLN NL 129 561 126 216 7 2 1 44 28 31 .385 .420 .410 136 230 9
1899 27 BRO NL 141 570 140 216 12 13 1 61 45 37 .379 .425 .451 138 257 17
1900 28 BRO NL 136 563 106 204 13 12 4 68 41 30 .362 .402 .449 129 253 19
1901 29 BRO NL 136 595 123 202 18 12 2 43 23 21 .339 .369 .420 126 250 22
1902 30 BRO NL 133 559 86 186 20 5 0 38 19 21 .333 .365 .386 130 216 25
1903 31 NYY AL 132 512 95 160 14 7 0 32 24 32 .313 .368 .367 116 188 27
1904 32 NYY AL 143 543 78 186 14 8 2 40 21 35 .343 .390 .409 147 222 27
1905 33 NYY AL 149 560 81 169 14 4 4 38 19 43 .302 .357 .363 118 203 42
1906 34 NYY AL 152 592 96 180 8 3 2 33 23 40 .304 .353 .338 108 200 35
1907 35 NYY AL 107 423 50 99 5 2 0 17 7 15 .234 .265 .255 61 108 26
1908 36 NYY AL 91 323 38 85 3 1 1 14 14 31 .263 .337 .288 103 93 21
1909 37 NYY AL 99 360 44 95 7 5 1 32 10 24 .264 .327 .319 103 115 33
1910 38 NYG NL 19 10 5 3 0 0 0 0 1 3 1 .300 .462 .300 123 3 1
+--------------+---+----+----+----+---+--+---+----+---+--+---+---+-----+-----+-----+----+----+---+
19 Seasons 8591 2932 145 810 0 36 .341 .388 .415 126 350
2123 1719 241 33 495 524 3562
On March 3, 1872, William Henry Keeler was born in Brooklyn, New York. From that point on, he grew only five inches, and that is why he has the name "Wee Willie" (actually, he grew to about 5'4" by most accounts -- Dustin Pedroia has nothing on him).
He arrived in the majors at age 20 in 1892, but he didn't play much until he was acquired by Baltimore in 1894. They switched him from third base to right field, and Keeler took care of the rest. Keeler was an amazing bunter, and it is believed that Keeler is the reason for the rule stating that a bunted third strike that goes foul is a strikeout. Instead, Keeler learned the famous "Baltimore Chop" and made the hit-and-run a popular strategy in major league baseball.
In 1897, Keeler rattled off a 44-game hitting streak to begin the season, a record only matched by Rose and surpassed by DiMaggio, but it was actually a 45-game hitting streak because he had a hit in the last game of the previous season. He would go on to hit .424 that season, and it remains as the third highest batting average for a season of all-time. Keeler could also hit consistently, and his eight consecutive seasons of 200 hits is only matched by Ichiro Suzuki.
Four years after Keeler's magical season, Ban Johnson started the American League. Several prominent NL players left to play for AL teams for more money and better treatment, and even though Keeler had six offers, he remained in Baltimore for two more seasons. Keeler signed on with the New York Highlanders in 1903, and the team eventually became the New York Yankees (ever heard of them?).
Keeler, a cheerful fellow, became more cheerful as he became the last player elected into the Hall of Fame in the 1939 class with 207 of 274 votes (75.5%). A slap hitter, Keeler is much different from the prototypical right fielder of today's game. Then again, at 5'4", he's really not prototypical anywhere.
While looking at the voting, I found an interesting situation. Rube Waddell is next on the list with 65.3% (not the interesting part), and Rogers Hornsby is next with 64.2% (not yet ... almost there). What I find interesting is that Hornsby didn't receive any votes in 1937. I have no idea why (I'll try to figure it out). He went from 46% to 0% to 17% to 64% to finally getting in at 78%. Hank Gowdy got more votes than Hornsby. To be fair, Hornsby did play in 1937, but he did in 1936 and received votes (when did the Hall stop voting for people still playing -- I'll look it up, but if anyone knows off-hand, I'd appreciate it). Maybe the BBWAA is just as messed up (maybe even better) as it was then.
21 January 2009
The Spitball
No one really knows who developed the "spitball", but then again, no one really knows who invented what in this sport anyway. Popularly, Elmer Stricklett and Frank Corridon receive credit for the pitch, but they, at least and in truth, get credit for bringing it to the major leagues (then again, this guy makes a case for Huckleberry Finn -- something I'm sure the Mills Commission would have loved). Ed Walsh would popularize the pitch and become one of the first pitchers to incorporate into his arsenal regularly.
This is how the pitch works. First, apply your favorite lubricant -- saliva, vaseline, pine tar, KY jelly -- and pitch. The extra weight on one side of the ball and the decreased resistance on the ball make it spin oddly. It starts out as a fastball but takes a weird dive in an unknown direction, making it extremely difficult to hit. The lubricant was generally hidden under the cap or behind the knee, but some pitchers simply licked the ball or dumped water on their head between innings and ran their fingers through their hair before pitching.
How did it become illegal? Well, it was never really legal. At least as far back as the 1890's, a rule stated that a ball could not be damaged and thrown to the plate. For what it's worth, the spitball didn't "damage" a baseball (scuffing, cutting, etc. do but were still tolerated). Pitchers didn't care because no one enforced the rule, and if they did, the fine was $5. That is, until 1920.
The 1920 rule was intended to crackdown on the spitball and its questionable ethics, and anyone caught defacing a ball would be suspended 10 games. However, the leagues still allowed two pitchers from each team to still throw the pitch, but it was only supposed to last one season. After the season, the leagues decided to relax the ruling and allow those pitchers who had begun their careers before 1920 to continue throwing the pitch until the end of their careers (the spitball was not illegal in the Negro Leagues, for those who may have been wondering). Only seventeen players were allowed this exception, and Burleigh Grimes was the last pitcher to legally throw one in 1934.
Although you might think hitters would have been happy about this, Ty Cobb wasn't and said it was an example of the owners selling out to home runs (Cobb was notorious for hating home runs, thinking he could have hit them more if he wanted but preferred to hit and run). I doubt few other players felt the same way. I think Cobb was probably a masochist and preferred to make the game harder to show that he was better than everybody anyway (no that's not historical).
One controversy surrounding the spitball is Ray Chapman's death. On August 16, 1920, he was beaned in the head with a pitch and died 12 hours later. Witnesses say he didn't even try to move (reasoning that he couldn't see the pitch), and if he couldn't see the pitch, it could have been the result of tobacco juice or something else on the ball.
Still, I wonder how bad it really is. First of all, curveballs can break sharply and be difficult to hit. Knuckleballs are hard to hit. Second, in an age where offense rules, couldn't this help the pitchers? Third, is it cheating? Well, there's some gray area. If a guy has a whole tub of vaseline with him, then, yeah, it probably is. But if a guy can (or even would) lick the ball and then still control it, what's the problem? Why would it be different from a pitcher using rosin for better grip?
I'd like to see them legalize spitballs again. It doesn't really damage the ball. It helps the pitchers out (a little considering it isn't the easiest thing to do, and who wants to lick a ball?). And it would make things a bit more interesting. As for pine tar, sandpaper, tobacco juice etc., it isn't out on the mound and really is a foreign substance, so they should be illegal. Water doesn't do anything to the ball, but pine tar, etc. leaves a calling card. What do you all think?
This is how the pitch works. First, apply your favorite lubricant -- saliva, vaseline, pine tar, KY jelly -- and pitch. The extra weight on one side of the ball and the decreased resistance on the ball make it spin oddly. It starts out as a fastball but takes a weird dive in an unknown direction, making it extremely difficult to hit. The lubricant was generally hidden under the cap or behind the knee, but some pitchers simply licked the ball or dumped water on their head between innings and ran their fingers through their hair before pitching.
How did it become illegal? Well, it was never really legal. At least as far back as the 1890's, a rule stated that a ball could not be damaged and thrown to the plate. For what it's worth, the spitball didn't "damage" a baseball (scuffing, cutting, etc. do but were still tolerated). Pitchers didn't care because no one enforced the rule, and if they did, the fine was $5. That is, until 1920.
The 1920 rule was intended to crackdown on the spitball and its questionable ethics, and anyone caught defacing a ball would be suspended 10 games. However, the leagues still allowed two pitchers from each team to still throw the pitch, but it was only supposed to last one season. After the season, the leagues decided to relax the ruling and allow those pitchers who had begun their careers before 1920 to continue throwing the pitch until the end of their careers (the spitball was not illegal in the Negro Leagues, for those who may have been wondering). Only seventeen players were allowed this exception, and Burleigh Grimes was the last pitcher to legally throw one in 1934.
Although you might think hitters would have been happy about this, Ty Cobb wasn't and said it was an example of the owners selling out to home runs (Cobb was notorious for hating home runs, thinking he could have hit them more if he wanted but preferred to hit and run). I doubt few other players felt the same way. I think Cobb was probably a masochist and preferred to make the game harder to show that he was better than everybody anyway (no that's not historical).
One controversy surrounding the spitball is Ray Chapman's death. On August 16, 1920, he was beaned in the head with a pitch and died 12 hours later. Witnesses say he didn't even try to move (reasoning that he couldn't see the pitch), and if he couldn't see the pitch, it could have been the result of tobacco juice or something else on the ball.
Still, I wonder how bad it really is. First of all, curveballs can break sharply and be difficult to hit. Knuckleballs are hard to hit. Second, in an age where offense rules, couldn't this help the pitchers? Third, is it cheating? Well, there's some gray area. If a guy has a whole tub of vaseline with him, then, yeah, it probably is. But if a guy can (or even would) lick the ball and then still control it, what's the problem? Why would it be different from a pitcher using rosin for better grip?
I'd like to see them legalize spitballs again. It doesn't really damage the ball. It helps the pitchers out (a little considering it isn't the easiest thing to do, and who wants to lick a ball?). And it would make things a bit more interesting. As for pine tar, sandpaper, tobacco juice etc., it isn't out on the mound and really is a foreign substance, so they should be illegal. Water doesn't do anything to the ball, but pine tar, etc. leaves a calling card. What do you all think?
This Day in Baseball History: January 21st, 1960
On January 21, 1960:
Stan Musial insists he get a $20,000 pay cut.
In 1957, Musial and the Cardinal were having a typical contract negotiation. Musial, who didn't use an agent for contract negotiations, told the Cardinals that Ralph Kiner made $90,000, and he wanted to be the highest paid player. So, he asked for $91,000, but the Cardinals wanted to make him the first $100,000 player and gave him as much. They continued to pay him that for the next few seasons.
He responded in 1957 by hitting .351/.422/.612 and coming in second in the MVP voting. The next season, he still hit well, but he fell to .337/.423/.528 and 12th in the MVP voting. His production really fell off, however, in 1959 when he hit .255/.364/.428. Believing he failed to live up to his contract, he told the Cardinals he deserved a pay cut to $80,000. He took it happily and vowed to make up for it.
Musial rebounded in 1960 with a line of .275/.354/.486, and he would actually improve the next two seasons until plummeting in 1963. Not surprisingly but coincidentally, he was elected into the Hall of Fame on this day in 1969 in his first ballot.
We would love this story today -- a millionaire player giving money back to the team when he underperforms --, but "The Man" certainly didn't have to do this. He was beloved in St. Louis, and I doubt anyone had been getting on his case about it. Yet, this would just add on one more thing people love about Musial and what made him such a great player and person.
As for doing this in today's game, I'm not sure how I'd feel about it. On one hand, it would be a great story. A player, realizing he failed to live up to expectations, takes a paycut. If the GM then took the money and added it to a contract in order to keep or sign a player, then it would be even better. Also in those days, the player had zero leverage in his negotiations, and Musial still took a pay cut. If a player in an era like that can take a pay cut, then why can't one do it now when he has a lot more leverage.
On the other hand, what happens if the team doesn't use it? The owner gets it? That certainly isn't right. The players also get jipped their first few years in the majors (however, I do feel baseball's contract system is better and more fair than any of the other sports) if they succeed. Guys like Hamels had to take $400,000 (I realize I shouldn't pity them, but when guys like Carlos Silva make tens of millions, it is unfair to Hamels), so when it comes time to make the big bucks, they should go for it and keep it (you essentially overpay for free-agent years because you underpaid them in pre-arb and arbitration years; maybe that's not what was intended but that's how it works in practice -- which brings me to a thing I saw on FanGraphs where it works out to a 40-60-80 ratio in the three arbitration years, but isn't it more 60-80-100 and the free-agent years usually are 110-120?). Taking pay cuts have other negative effects. When Chipper stated he would take a pay cut to help keep Tim Hudson, Schuerholz had to explain to Chipper that this gave Hudson more leverage in negotiations (if you get good value on Chipper, you still overpay for Hudson, and it, thus, becomes a wash). When a free-agent knows someone took a pay cut, they could use that to their advantage (then again, who am I worried about -- the team or the player?).
It's a weird situation. I like it because it shows some loyalty on the player's part, but do the owners give the players more when they overperform (see Albert Pujols in every year of current monstruous contract that should be even more ginormous)? Do the owners put more into the team when it overperforms? No, so why should a player take less money for having a bad season? Then again, it would have been great if Andruw took a huge pay cut and just worked hard for the Dodgers this upcoming season (Before you talk about the union, I realize the union would throw a fit at taking less money and they probably should, but the union isn't the boss of everyone. Remember, they're supposed to work for the player, not the other way around. Does it work out in practice like that? Maybe not, but someone could buck the system).
Okay, so that got a little away from Musial, but here's the brief recap -- Musial = great player, person, example. The End.
Stan Musial insists he get a $20,000 pay cut.
In 1957, Musial and the Cardinal were having a typical contract negotiation. Musial, who didn't use an agent for contract negotiations, told the Cardinals that Ralph Kiner made $90,000, and he wanted to be the highest paid player. So, he asked for $91,000, but the Cardinals wanted to make him the first $100,000 player and gave him as much. They continued to pay him that for the next few seasons.
He responded in 1957 by hitting .351/.422/.612 and coming in second in the MVP voting. The next season, he still hit well, but he fell to .337/.423/.528 and 12th in the MVP voting. His production really fell off, however, in 1959 when he hit .255/.364/.428. Believing he failed to live up to his contract, he told the Cardinals he deserved a pay cut to $80,000. He took it happily and vowed to make up for it.
Musial rebounded in 1960 with a line of .275/.354/.486, and he would actually improve the next two seasons until plummeting in 1963. Not surprisingly but coincidentally, he was elected into the Hall of Fame on this day in 1969 in his first ballot.
We would love this story today -- a millionaire player giving money back to the team when he underperforms --, but "The Man" certainly didn't have to do this. He was beloved in St. Louis, and I doubt anyone had been getting on his case about it. Yet, this would just add on one more thing people love about Musial and what made him such a great player and person.
As for doing this in today's game, I'm not sure how I'd feel about it. On one hand, it would be a great story. A player, realizing he failed to live up to expectations, takes a paycut. If the GM then took the money and added it to a contract in order to keep or sign a player, then it would be even better. Also in those days, the player had zero leverage in his negotiations, and Musial still took a pay cut. If a player in an era like that can take a pay cut, then why can't one do it now when he has a lot more leverage.
On the other hand, what happens if the team doesn't use it? The owner gets it? That certainly isn't right. The players also get jipped their first few years in the majors (however, I do feel baseball's contract system is better and more fair than any of the other sports) if they succeed. Guys like Hamels had to take $400,000 (I realize I shouldn't pity them, but when guys like Carlos Silva make tens of millions, it is unfair to Hamels), so when it comes time to make the big bucks, they should go for it and keep it (you essentially overpay for free-agent years because you underpaid them in pre-arb and arbitration years; maybe that's not what was intended but that's how it works in practice -- which brings me to a thing I saw on FanGraphs where it works out to a 40-60-80 ratio in the three arbitration years, but isn't it more 60-80-100 and the free-agent years usually are 110-120?). Taking pay cuts have other negative effects. When Chipper stated he would take a pay cut to help keep Tim Hudson, Schuerholz had to explain to Chipper that this gave Hudson more leverage in negotiations (if you get good value on Chipper, you still overpay for Hudson, and it, thus, becomes a wash). When a free-agent knows someone took a pay cut, they could use that to their advantage (then again, who am I worried about -- the team or the player?).
It's a weird situation. I like it because it shows some loyalty on the player's part, but do the owners give the players more when they overperform (see Albert Pujols in every year of current monstruous contract that should be even more ginormous)? Do the owners put more into the team when it overperforms? No, so why should a player take less money for having a bad season? Then again, it would have been great if Andruw took a huge pay cut and just worked hard for the Dodgers this upcoming season (Before you talk about the union, I realize the union would throw a fit at taking less money and they probably should, but the union isn't the boss of everyone. Remember, they're supposed to work for the player, not the other way around. Does it work out in practice like that? Maybe not, but someone could buck the system).
Okay, so that got a little away from Musial, but here's the brief recap -- Musial = great player, person, example. The End.
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