Article from the archives—2011 Baseball Hall of Fame election results: Alomar, Blyleven elected; Larkin, Morris close

Let’s take a look back on the 2011 Hall of Fame election and what my surely genius and insightful thoughts on it were.

***

Another year of Hall of Fame voting and excitement is in the books, and so begins another round of review, second-guessing and ridicule about who was elected—and who was not.

Roberto Alomar made 12 All-Star teams and won 10 Gold Gloves. (Wikipedia).

With 90.0 percent of the vote, Roberto Alomar was selected to the Hall of Fame in his second go-around on the ballot, jumping from 73.7% last year. Blyleven, in his 14th year of eligibility, received 79.7% of the vote.

Both are worthy inductees. Alomar hit .300 with 2,724 hits, 210 home runs and 474 stolen bases in 17 major league seasons, earning a spot on 12 All-Star teams, as well as 10 Gold Glove Awards and four Silver Sluggers. In the playoffs he flourished as well, batting .313 in 230 post-season at-bats.

Blyleven does not have the accolades to his name (only two All-Star selections), but he has the numbers to back up his election. With 287 wins, 3,701 strikeouts and 242 complete games, Blyleven compiled a career that, though it did not scream “Hall of Fame” while he was playing, developed into a Cooperstown-worthy career nonetheless.

Two other players received at least 50% as well, Barry Larkin and Jack Morris, indicating that they too will one day be elected—especially considering they both received a higher percentage of the votes this year than last. Their Hall of Fame chances increase even more considering the lackluster crop of newcomers arriving next year, with the best player being, perhaps, Bernie Williams.

There were a few newcomers whose performances, or lack thereof, were relatively surprising. John Franco, who had 424 saves and a 2.89 ERA in his 21-year career, received only 4.6% of the vote, meaning he won’t be on the ballot again next year. Even though the cloud of steroids hangs over his head, Rafael Palmeiro’s 11% of the vote is quite low—especially considering fellow alleged ‘roider Mark McGwire received 23.5% of the vote in his first year. Jeff Bagwell actually did surprisingly well, garnering 41.1% of the vote.

Now, it is time to compare my predicted results to the actual voting results. The following are the players I said were going to be elected: Bert Blyleven and Roberto Alomar. I was correct (most people probably guessed those two, so there is not much to brag about).

I claimed there would be 19 holdovers from this election to next year’s, with that list including Barry Larkin, Jack Morris, Lee Smith, Fred McGriff, Edgar Martinez, Tim Raines, Jeff Bagwell, Alan Trammell, Mark McGwire, Rafael Palmeiro, Larry Walker, Don Mattingly, John Franco, John Olerud, Kevin Brown, Dale Murphy, Juan Gonzalez, Harold Baines and Tino Martinez. I was off by five—there are only 14 holdovers, with Harold Baines, John Franco, Kevin Brown, Tino Martinez and John Olerud falling off the ballot.

When looking at the actual percentages, I was off by a bit, as well. For example, I said Fred McGriff was going to get 40.9% of the vote—he really received only 17.9%. I said Rafael Palmeiro was going to receive 23.5% of the vote, while he garnered only 11%. Perhaps most egregiously of all, I said John Olerud was going to receive 13.5% of the vote, when he actually received 0.7%.

Olerud, who finished with 58.2 WAR in 17 seasons, does have a small group of Hall of Fame supporters. (Wikipedia).

I was close on a few, however. For example, I claimed Dale Murphy would get 12.5% of the vote and he actually received 12.6%. As well, I said Larry Walker was going to garner 19.5% of the vote and he received 20.3%. On average, I was about 4.34% off on each person. Now, the percentage difference is a bit more glaring—the average percentage difference between my projected vote totals and the actual vote totals is about 47.21%—that will happen when one predicts John Olerud will get over 10% of the vote and he receives less than 1%.

Finally, to wrap this up, I am going to post who I would have voted for if I were a member of the Baseball Writers Association of America. These are in no particular order.

Roberto Alomar
Bert Blyleven
Jeff Bagwell
Barry Larkin
Tim Raines
Lee Smith
Larry Walker
Rafael Palmeiro
Fred McGriff
Dave Parker

I also would have voted for Mark McGwire, Edgar Martinez, Alan Trammell and potentially Dale Murphy, Don Mattingly and John Franco but a Hall of Fame voter can select a maximum of 10 players. I voted for Palmeiro and not McGwire because the latter already has his cabal of voters, while Palmeiro does not—I wanted to help give Palmeiro a bit of support in his first year of eligibility.

That wraps up another round of Hall of Fame speculation, surprise and—maybe for some—despair. Roberto Alomar and Bert Blyleven will join the already-inducted Pat Gillick at the Hall of Fame induction this summer at Cooperstown.

***

I have since revamped my method for predicting Hall of Fame numbers. Back then, I considered how well statistically similar players performed in the voting, however that obviously does not produce an accurate number. Now I look more at how the player performed in recent elections and how well other players with similar vote totals did in their elections, as well. That produces less wonky results.

Max Scherzer joins the 3,000 K club.

Scherzer is the third pitcher since 2019 to reach 3,000 Ks—Justin Verlander and C.C. Sabathia did it that year. (Wikipedia).

Max Scherzer has joined the immortals.

When Scherzer got the Padres Eric Hosmer swinging in the fifth inning yesterday, he became just the 19th pitcher with 3,000 or more career strikeouts.

And he did it quickly, in just 14 seasons.

Having developed into one of the game’s best strikeout pitchers as he entered his prime in his late 20s, he hasn’t averaged less than 10 Ks per nine innings pitched since 2012, when he was with Detroit.

Since then, he has won three strikeout titles—in 2016, 2017 and 2018—and K-ed 200-plus batters nine times and 250 or more five times—including 300 with Washington in 2018. He has thrice led the league in K/9 IP ratio and is fifth all-time in that category, with a career 10.73 mark. Because he has excellent control, having walked 70 batters in a season just once, the hurler has paced the loop in K/BB ratio four times, as well.

And his control is impeccable. He has never led the league in BB/9 IP, however he has placed in the top ten five times. He is third in the National League this year. He was second in 2015.

To say, then, that Scherzer is merely a strikeout pitcher is an insult to his body of work. He’s an artist, an expert, a workhorse and a winner. And what a winner he is. In this age of low victory totals, he’s led the league in that category four times, with as many as 21 in a season. At the doorstep of 200 with 189 for his career, he is nearing another impressive milestone, one only two active pitchers have reached. He has just 97 losses; that’s a career .661 winning percentage.

And a workhorse? Well, that might be an understatement. He’s led the league in games started, innings pitched and batters faced twice, each. Three times he has paced the loop in complete games and twice in shutouts.

But all those pitches, all those innings don’t affect his performance. They don’t hurt his ability to nibble the corners. To keep men off base. To throw with precision, pitch after pitch.

In 2,519 1/3 innings—the fifth-highest total among active hurlers—he’s surrendered just 2,053 hits, or a mere 7.3 per nine frames. He’s led the league in that category three times. And, since he doesn’t walk anyone, he’s paced the loop in WHIP five times, as well. His 1.082 mark is 15th-best ever. Better than Juan Marichal. Better than Sandy Koufax.

And fans, writers and baseball intelligentsia recognize his dominance. Selected to eight All-Star teams, he has won three Cy Young Awards—in 2013, 2016 and 2017—and finished second and third in voting once each. He finished fifth twice. In MVP balloting, usually dedicated to the very best hitters, he placed tenth three years in a row, from 2016 to 2018.

Between his Cy Young campaigns of 2013 and 2016, there was 2015, a magical year in itself. In addition to striking out 276 batters and posting a 2.79 ERA, he led the league with four complete games and three shutouts.

Scherzer’s black and grey ink are 57 and 202, respectively. The average Hall of Famer’s are 50 and 185. (Wikipedia).

Two of which were no-hitters. And both nearly perfect.

On June 20, facing the Pirates, Scherzer went 8 2/3 innings without allowing a man on base. To that point, he had 10 strikeouts. Star outfielder Andrew McCutchen had K-ed twice.

Just one out shy of perfection, with the crowd on its feet, Scherzer … plunked pinch hitter Jose Tabata. The next batter, Josh Harrison, flied out. So close. A no-hitter is quite the consolation prize.

Incredibly, he was coming off a one-hit, one-walk 16-strikeout shutout against Milwaukee on June 14 in which he was perfect through the first six innings. In his following start, he was perfect through his first five.

A few months later, in his last start of the season, he made history again in a performance that was greater than his near-perfect game.

Facing Michael Conforto, Yoenis Cespedes, Matt Harvey at the rest of the New York Mets, Scherzer walked not a soul as Mets batsmen went hitless. In fact, he himself didn’t allow any baserunners. The only man to reach was gifted his chance by way of a sixth inning throwing error by third baseman Yunel Escobar.

And he struck out 17 Mets, including, at one point, nine in a row. Shortstop Ruben Tejada and outfielder Kirk Nieuwenhuis whiffed three times each. Three other men K-ed twice.

He wasn’t able carry the dominance of that game into the postseason; Washington missed it, winning just 83 games on the year.

But the playoffs haven’t been elusive for Scherzer in his 14 seasons—he’s pitched in them seven times. In his first series, with Detroit back in 2011, he tossed 7 1/3 innings, K-ed 7 batters, posted a 1.23 ERA and won a game. In 2012, he made his first World Series appearance. It wasn’t his best performance—in 6 1/3 innings, he allowed 3  earned runs on 7 hits and a walk. He walked away with the no-decision, but the Tigers lost the series.

Skip to nearly a decade later, in 2019, with Washington. Scherzer won a game in the NLDS and NLCS, throwing seven innings of scoreless, one-hit, 11-strikeout ball in the latter.

Propelled to the Fall Classic for the first time in franchise history, Washington had Scherzer take the mound twice against Houston in that nail-biting, seven-game series. Starting Game One, he went five innings, allowed two earned runs and struck out seven Astros for the win. He didn’t pitch in Games Two through Six. But he was called upon to seal the deal in Game Seven.

Scherzer is 7-5 with a 3.38 ERA in 22 postseason appearances. (Wikipedia).

By Scherzer’s standards, it was a rough outing. Granted, he again surrendered just two earned runs, but he also allowed seven hits and four walks in five innings of work. He left the game with the Nationals trailing, 2-0. The uninspiring Patrick Corbin took over and tossed 3 scoreless innings. Daniel Hudson didn’t allow a run his inning, either. The Nationals offense came alive in the seventh with two home runs. They beat Houston, 6-2 and won the World Series in seven games.

Scherzer got his ring, icing on the cake of what has become a legendary career.

But he wasn’t always a shoo-in for greatness. Though he was the Diamondbacks’ first round pick in 2006—taken in the same round as Clayton Kershaw and Tim Lincecum—his big league career began a little … disappointingly. Despite a 151 ERA+ his first season, 2008, he was 0-4 in 56 innings. The next year, he again posted a losing record of 9-11, with a 4.12 ERA. In 2010, he was solid but not spectacular at 12-11, 3.50 and in 2011, despite winning 15 games, he had a mediocre campaign with a 4.43 ERA and 93 ERA+. By then, he was already 27 years old.

That, however, was the old Scherzer. In 2013, everything clicked and he hasn’t looked back since. In those nine years, he’s gone 137-55 with a 2.80 ERA and 150 ERA+. In 1,714 2/3 innings, he’s struck out 2,174 batters (over 11 per nine innings) and posted a tiny WHIP of 0.982.

That is the Scherzer history will remember. That is the Scherzer who will get into Cooperstown. That is the Scherzer who reached 3,000 strikeouts.

And became immortal.

Sherry Magee belongs in the Hall of Fame.

There are few pre-World War II players more deserving for the Hall of Fame than Sherry Magee. (Wikipedia).

How often does it happen that a player leads the league in more categories than the average Hall of Famer and does not get elected to Cooperstown himself?

Not too frequently. Using black ink* as the metric, Tony Oliva did it and so did Dale Murphy—but not too many others.

*The average Hall of Famer’s black ink is 27.

Even harder to come by, then, must be the man who also places among the league leaders, without actually pacing the loop himself, more frequently than the average Hall of Famer. That’s measured using grey ink,* and yes, it is rarer.

*The average Hall of Famer’s grey ink is 144.

Among non-pitchers eligible for the Hall of Fame, and excluding Negro leaguers, it has happened eight times, by the likes of Barry Bonds and George Burns.

Though Sherry Magee is an unfamiliar name in most baseball circles today, he also ranks among that number, with black and grey ink of 35 and 210, respectively. Mostly forgotten now and severely underrated even then, he played from 1904 to 1919 for the Phillies, Braves and Reds as one of the top outfielders in the National League.

Finishing with 2,169 hits, 166 triples, 441 stolen bases, 1,112 runs and 1, 176 RBI, he took home a ring with Cincinnati in the tainted 1919 World Series against Chicago and—fairly-and-squarely—won the batting title in 1910 with a .331 mark.

In fact, he batted .300 or better five times in an era when league averages in the .250s were the norm—his .291 career mark was 32 points higher than the aggregate .259 average the National League hit when he played.

Pacing the loop in offensive WAR, slugging percentage and total bases twice, extra base hits three times and RBI four times, Magee was an offensive powerhouse in a time when they were a rarity.

Consider that he played in the Dead Ball Era, when offenses were depressed and pitching reigned. Had he played in the modern game, he would have hit .312 with over 2,500 hits, 500 stolen bases, 1,350 runs scored and 1, 450 RBI, per the neutralized statistics from Baseball Reference.com.

Through age 34, his most similar statistical comparison was Hall of Famer Joe Kelley, per Baseball-Reference.com. (Wikipedia).

For a player of his time, he was a slugger, despite seemingly weak home run totals. His 83 dingers don’t look like much, but he played during an era when 20 home runs in a season was unheard of and 5 or fewer was the norm; Ty Cobb had less than than 5 thirteen times.

In 2021, 119 players have clobbered 15 or more dingers, and we’re not even done with the season. Over the 16-year span of Magee’s career, that mark was reached 13 times total. And Magee managed two of those instances, in 1911 and 1914, and finished among the league leaders in homers seven times.

According to the now-defunct BaseballLibrary.com, “Magee was one of the great players of the dead-ball era, 1900-1919. He could hit, run, field, and throw with the best, and played intelligently and aggressively,” and according to the also-defunct TheBaseballPage.com, “he had no real weaknesses…” The Baseball Reference Bullpen says, “[he] was one of the top players of his time.”

So, what is a player who had “no real weaknesses,” who could, “hit, run, field, and throw with the best” and who was “one of the top players of his time” not doing in the Hall of Fame? Your guess is as good as mine. Even Hall of Fame voters didn’t give him much love, as he received support in eight regular elections but peaked at one percent of the vote. Granted, he was competing with men like Babe Ruth, Cy Young and Pete Alexander* for attention, so it is understandable how he was overlooked.

*It wasn’t even easy for Alexander to earn induction. He received less than 25% of the vote his first time around and didn’t get elected until his third try.

But inexcusable is that even during the years of Hall of Fame inflation, the 1960s and 1970s, Magee was still ignored. During that time, under the guidance of Hall of Fame infielder and Veterans Committee Chairman Frankie Frisch, such names as Rube Marquard, Jesse Haines and George Kelly were selected for Cooperstown.

Yet Magee remained on the outside looking in. Heck, the last time he was even considered was by the Veterans Committee in 2009, the year Joe Gordon was elected; he received 25% of the vote.

From 1904 to 1919—the span of his career—Magee appeared in more games, had more plate appearances, more at-bats, more runs, more doubles, more triples, more RBI, more total bases, more extra base hits and was on base more than anyone in the National League. Number two in each of those categories was Honus Wagner.

Wagner received 95.1% of the vote in his first try on the Hall of Fame ballot.

The ghost of Magee is still waiting for the call.

Three milestones indicate greatness for major league catchers.

No catcher has hit more home runs than Mike Piazza. (Wikipedia).

Recently, I covered the 300-300 club and the 50-20 club, each of which has at least one unusual member. The former, for example, featured Steve Finley and Reggie Sanders, who hit over 300 home runs and stole at least 300 bases each.

The 50-20 club, likewise, is laced with legends like Willie Mays—and also includes Brady Anderson among its number.

But here’s one collection of milestones that has only ever been achieved by the best of the best, the most elite catchers of all-time:

2,000 hits, 300 home runs, 1,000 RBI.

Only six backstops have reached all three and there is no questioning their greatness:

Mike Piazza, Johnny Bench, Carlton Fisk, Yogi Berra, Gary Carter and Ivan Rodriguez.

Piazza leads the pack with 427 homers and added 2,127 hits and 1,335 RBI for good measure. Rodriguez managed the most hits at 2,844, and had 311 home runs and 1,332 RBI to boot.

The RBI champ was Yogi Berra, who finished with 1,430—which makes sense. He played on Yankees teams that featured names like Mickey Mantle, Joe DiMaggio and Hank Bauer. With all that star power getting on base around him, he had ample opportunity to drive guys in.  

Carter had 324 home runs, 2,092 hits and 1,225 RBI. Fisk, 376, 2,356 and 1,330, respectively. Bench clobbered 389 homers with 2,048 knocks and 1,376 RBI.

They’re the only catchers who reached the hit and home run milestones and scored 1,000 runs, as well.

What if we eliminate one of those markers, say RBI. Is the club any less illustrious without ribbies?

No. No outliers to complicate things yet.

How about 2,000 hits and 1,000 RBI, minus the home runs? Still no.

Phew, this really is an elite club, no need to ask any further—

What about 300 home runs and 1,000 RBI, who cares about the hits?

Well, hold onto your seats: Outlier alert.

In fact, the 300 HR/1,000 RBI catcher cabal does have one unexpected member. See if you can guess who it is:

From 1977 to 1995, this backstop played 1,988 games, hitting .252 with 324 home runs and 1,070 RBI. He had just 1,782 hits, but made 8 All-Star teams, won 6 Silver Sluggers and 3 Gold Gloves, and owns a World Series ring. He spent most of his career with the Tigers.

Got it yet?

It’s Lance Parrish.

And while all those other guys were elected to the Hall of Fame in their first few tries (Carter took the longest, appearing on the ballot six times before he made it), Parrish received a resounding 1.7 percent of the vote in 2001 and dropped off the ballot.

I’ve said in the past that being a member of elite clubs does not necessarily make a player elite, or a Hall of Famer.

But with Parrish right up there with the absolute greatest catchers of all-time, well …

Maybe we need to make an exception.

***

The 2000/300/1000 club contains only two second baseman, Robinson Cano and Jeff Kent, and, incredibly, there’s a strong possibility neither will be elected to the Hall of Fame.

Two shortstops reached those marks as well: Cal Ripken, Jr. and Miguel Tejada. Tejada is not a Hall of Famer and likely will never be one, but I wouldn’t mind seeing him get in.

Among third basemen, the club has a few more members. The Hall of Famers and future Hall of Famers: Mike Schmidt, Eddie Mathews, Adrian Beltre, Chipper Jones, Ron Santo and Scott Rolen. The unexpected: Graig Nettles, Aramis Ramirez and Gary Gaetti.

Jorge Posada: Is former New York Yankees catcher Hall of Fame worthy?

Jorge Posada is most similar to Brian McCann, per Baseball-Reference.com’s similarity scores. (Wikipedia).

Always overshadowed by bigger names like Mike Piazza and Ivan Rodriguez during his career, one still has to wonder—did Jorge Posada do enough to earn eventual Hall of Fame induction? His performance on the ballot (3.8% in 2018) suggests he didn’t, but there’s always two sides to every story …

I debate myself to find out.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

Over the course of his career, Posada hit 275 home runs, drove in 1,065 runs and made five All-Star teams. He won five Silver Sluggers and even finished in the top-ten in MVP voting twice, placing as high as third in the balloting.

His 275 home runs are eighth-most among catchers all-time, while his 1,065 RBI are 11th.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

While his home run and RBI totals are impressive, there are other catchers who had greater totals who are not yet in the Hall of Fame. Lance Parrish, for example, hit 324 home runs and had 1,070 RBI and he received only 1.7% of the vote in his only year of eligibility.

And Brian McCann, he finished with 289 home runs and only slightly fewer RBI, at 1,018. Even with his seven All-Star selections and six Silver Sluggers, is anyone clamoring for his induction?

Ted Simmons had slightly fewer home runs with 248, but he had over 300 more RBI—and he eclipsed the 2,000 hit milestone, which is something Posada never did. Yet Simmons received less than 4% of the vote in his lone year on the ballot. Though he was was eventually elected by the Veterans Committee in 2020, his long wait indicates Posada and Posada-esque backstops are pushed to the back of the line in Hall of Fame circles.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

That may be true, but every other catcher with at least 275 career home runs is in the Hall of Fame. The club includes Ivan Rodriguez (311 home runs), Gary Carter (324), Yogi Berra (358), Carlton Fisk (376), Johnny Bench (389) and Mike Piazza (427).

And outside of Parrish and Simmons, every other catcher with at least 1,065 RBI is in the Hall, or will be heading there, too. That club includes all the aforementioned catchers, plus Gabby Hartnett (1,179 RBI) and Bill Dickey (1,209 RBI).

In addition, Posada has the accolades to his name. Five All-Star selections and five Silver Sluggers is nothing to sneeze at.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

Good point, however you might notice one thing about all those home run hitting catchers you just mentioned—they each eclipsed 300 home runs, which Posada did not do.

I know in this advanced world of sabermetrics, milestones don’t mean as much, but there are still milestone-minded voters out there and not reaching a mark like 300 home runs (or 2,000 hits) will hurt Posada’s chances of election.

To counter another point, I’m going to invoke the “if X is not in the Hall, then Posada should not be in the Hall, either” argument again.

You mentioned that Posada was an All-Star five times. That’s very good. But what if I said that Elston Howard was an All-Star 12 times and is not in the Hall? Or that Bill Freehan and Del Crandall were All-Stars 11 times each, and have yet to be enshrined?

Fellow Yankee catcher Elston Howard made 12 All-Star Games and isn’t in the Hall of Fame. (Wikipedia).

And, I might add, Lance Parrish won six Silver Sluggers, one-upping Posada.

Yes! Posada Is a Hall of Famer!

Pardon my multi-faceted response here, see if you can keep up. I recognize that Posada never reached any major milestones, however like you said—we are in a more sabermetric era, rightly or wrongly, which means milestones seem to have less and less bearing. By the time Posada is eligible for the Veterans Committee, they may be lent even less credence than they are now.

And in regards to Howard, Freehan and Crandall—while they were All-Stars frequently, they were never the offensive force Posada was. Each of them had offensive Wins Above Replacement less than Posada, per Baseball-Reference.com.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

What about the point about Lance Parrish? I’ll rebut the rest in a moment.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

You bring up Lance Parrish again—I recognize that Parrish was a great player, but even though he had total statistics higher than Posada, does that necessarily make him better than Posada? Or did Parrish just acquire those extra counting numbers because he played longer than the Yankees catcher?

Look at their 162-game averages. Posada averaged 24 home runs and 94 RBI per 162 games, while Parrish averaged 26 home runs and 87 RBI. Plus Posada had a better batting average, on-base percentage and slugging percentage. And OPS. And OPS+.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

All right, all right. This isn’t an argument about whether Posada is better or worse than Lance Parrish, it’s an argument about whether Posada is a Hall of Fame-caliber player.

Let’s look at Posada through a sabermetric lens, real quick, since you brought that point up earlier. You said that Posada had higher offensive WARs than Howard, Freehan and Crandall, which is true.

Posada’s total WAR, per Baseball-Reference, is 42.7—a number that is relatively low … and that is bested by fellow catcher Gene Tenace, someone I have rarely seen on anyone’s Hall of Fame radar.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

First, Gene Tenace spent almost half his career at first base.

More to the point: Yes, his WAR would be relatively low if he hadn’t spent his career as a catcher. But among catchers, his WAR is the 14th best all-time. And once again, while he is bested by a few non-Hall of Famers, all the rest of the players than are better than him are in the Hall of Fame.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

You keep using Posada’s career statistics as the baseline, the bottom limit, that catchers have to meet to be “Hall of Fame worthy.” But unfortunately, that doesn’t necessarily mean Posada is a Hall of Famer—it just makes him the worst of the best.

Which basically means that if Posada were to be elected, he would be among the bottom-rung of Hall of Fame catchers, with guys like Rick Ferrell (who, by the way, was an All-Star two more times than Posada).

Would Posada be any better a choice than, say, Rick Ferrell—often considered the worst catcher in the Hall? (Wikipedia).

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

Going by raw counting stats that may appear to be the case, but looking at more sabermetric values like WAR and OPS+, that is clearly not so. (Plus, Posada was a better power hitter than Ferrell and also bested Ferrell in slugging percentage and OPS).

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

You also mentioned earlier that Posada was a better offensive force than Freehan, Crandall and Howard, but that point can easily be countered by the fact that those three were better defensively than Posada. Combined, they won 11 Gold Gloves. Posada won zero. And catcher has historically been a defense-first position.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

Accolades, while helpful, don’t mean everything. You must also take into consideration Posada’s postseason performance. He appeared in 125 playoff games and won four World Series rings. He hit .333 or better in five series and hit 11 home runs in his postseason career.

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

World Series victories are very team-dependent—while the number of rings looks nice, it really isn’t a great way of determining someone’s Hall of Fame worthiness.

And, as a whole, Posada hit only .248 and slugged .387 in his postseason career.

Yes! Posada is a Hall of Famer!

Okay, well, Posada also has the benefit of playing for one team his entire career—and what a team it was! The New York Yankees! It’s not often a player sticks around with a single team anymore, and to play so long for the Yankees helps his case too—there is something of an allure to the “Yankees mystique.”

No! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

Is that all? He played for a popular team? While a pro-Yankee bias might have helped players earn election into Cooperstown, it doesn’t mean they were good enough for the Hall, it’s just that the writers had an affinity for them that extended beyond those guys’ playing abilities. The voters’ inability to judge past players unobjectively shouldn’t effect whether a player should get into the Hall of Fame.

Therefore, I can say with certainty now:

NO! Posada is not a Hall of Famer!

Article from the archives—Adrian Beltre: What 1,000 runs scored means for Rangers third baseman

On April 14, 2011, Adrian Beltre—a future Hall of Famer who was anything but a sure thing at that point—scored his 1,000th career run. It’s not a huge feat, as mentioned in this article, but I decided to memorialize it with some prose anyway. Usually I wouldn’t post something like this, because really all it does is announce something (that happened 10 years ago), but there were enough fun facts and trivial information throughout that I thought you’d enjoy reading it.

***

Adrian Beltre turned it on in his 30s after slashing just .271/.327/.459 in his teens and 20s. (Wikipedia).

Just the other day, on April 14, Texas Rangers third baseman Adrian Beltre scored his 1,000th career run. Oh, you didn’t hear about it? Well, that’s to be expected—the feat wasn’t particularly well-publicized and run milestones don’t seem to garner much attention anyway.

What, then, makes the 33-year-old Beltre’s 1,000th crossing of home plate meaningful, or worth noting, or so valuable that one should put metaphorical quill to parchment and expound upon the landmark?

First, it’s a pretty impressive feat, even if it’s not particularly rare—he joins a club with 29 other active members and over 300 members overall. The active crew is riddled with greats like Derek Jeter, Chipper Jones, Albert Pujols and Ichiro Suzuki—that’s a pretty good fraternity to be in.

Most importantly, however, it signals that the Dominican third sacker could be quietly putting together a Hall of Fame career.

Third basemen with 1,000 runs, 2,000 hits and 300 home runs are a pretty rare breed—only four have posted those numbers since 1980, with Beltre and Cooperstown shoo-in Chipper Jones amongst the flock. Compare that to first basemen: In that span, more than twice as many initial sackers have posted those types of numbers. Clearly, third sackers with even decent power and hit-ability—by first base’s standards, at least—are hard to come by.

And Adrian Beltre is one of them, placing him in an elite group.

Of course, that is not to say that if Beltre were to retire today he would be a Hall of Famer—sure, among his positional peers he is in a supreme cabal, but to the untrained eye, he is still only decent.

Since third basemen don’t often reach the “milestone” numbers like 500 home runs and 3,000 hits with regularity, they are often underappreciated and even considered inferior to players at other positions on the diamond. They are somewhere between the historically uber-defensive shortstop and second base positions and the uber-offensive first base and right field positions. Being caught in that in-between segment of the baseball spectrum is one of the reasons why third base is an underrepresented position in the Hall of Fame.

And that’s why Beltre needs to keep adding to his career totals and accolades before he can rightfully claim a spot in Cooperstown.

Yes, he has three Gold Gloves and three Silver Sluggers, but a couple more of each wouldn’t hurt. Sure, he’s been an All-Star twice and, though All-Star appearances aren’t always a huge indicator of a Hall of Fame career—Robin Yount was only selected to three and Bert Blyleven to two—it wouldn’t hurt for him to tack on a couple more to his resume, lest he toil on the ballot for over a decade as 2011 Hall of Fame inductee Blyleven did.

And while accolades are nice, they don’t mean nearly as much if statistics aren’t there to back them up. Yes, 2,000 hits and 300 home runs are good—fantastic, even, for third basemen—but they don’t jump out at voters and the layperson. Fellow hot corner specialist Gary Gaetti had over 2,200 knocks and 360 longballs to boot and, though he is fondly remembered, no one is clamoring for his induction into the Hall of Fame.

Because of the position he mans, it is hard to say what Beltre needs to do to gain Cooperstown membership. Mike Schmidt earned election after hitting 548 home runs and playing great defense, yet Ron Santo entered the Hall, albeit after a long wait, with 342 dingers and defense that was only slightly above average, according to Defensive WAR. It’s a variable position with variable “rules” for induction.

Instead, let’s look at what he is on pace to achieve, according to famed Sabermatrician Bill James’ projection system called the “Favorite Toy,” and see if those numbers are enough to earn him the most prestigious call in all of baseball.

Chipper Jones finished with 468 home runs and 2,726 hits. (Wikipedia).

Using the tool, we find that Beltre is projected to hit 403 home runs and finish with 2,765 hits. He’s heading towards nearly 1,500 RBI and over 1,300 runs. Now those are Hall of Fame numbers and notably, they are not digits constructed from fantasy—they are what he is on pace to achieve per the extrapolation system.

In the history of the game ever, only four third basemen have hit over 400 home runs. Only three have collected at least 2,700 hits. Yet not one has combined such power numbers with those hit totals—something Beltre is statistically projected to do.

Chipper might be the first to join that club—he stands only 80 hits away from 2,700 and he already has over 450 moonshots—but Beltre, being half of that guild of two, would be a no-doubter for the Hall if he reached those numbers.

Now, that’s not saying he has to reach those marks to be a Hall of Famer. He could as easily collect 2,400 hits and whack 350 home runs and one day earn election, but he’d have to wait a few years, just as Ron Santo did. (Coincidentally, Beltre is most statistically similar to Santo through age 32, according to Baseball-Reference.com).

However Beltre’s career turns out, it’s hard to believe I’m talking about his blooming Hall of Fame prospects. To think: This was a guy people thought was washed up in 2005!

***

Beltre went on to score a lot more than 1,000 runs in his career and beat the projections set forth in the article handily. He is the only third baseman, and just one of 11 players, to finish with over 400 home runs and 3,000 hits. Having done so, he ranks among names like Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Stan Musial.

493.

Fred McGriff. (Wikipedia).

He was just seven home runs away from immortality.

Fred McGriff, the Braves, Blue Jays and Devil Rays star first baseman who plied his trade mostly in the 1990s, stopped at the doorstop of greatness.

Or, de jure greatness, at least. Greatness made official. Greatness as decided by a handful of scribes.

Just seven home runs. That’s all he needed to get there, to be let in, to be included among heroes and legends, names that transcend sport and roll off the tongue as readily as Michael Jackson and Jack Nicholson.

Just seven home runs.

Over the course of 19 seasons, from 1986 to 2004, McGriff hit .284. He had nearly 2,500 hits and 1,550 RBI—an average of over 80 per year.

He slugged over .500 and scored more than 1,300 runs—more than Barry Larkin and Vladimir Guerrero and Harmon Killebrew. He drew over 1,300 walks, t00, and a full 171 of them were intentional, because he was so feared a batsmen. In 1991, he led the league in such free passes, with 26.

Tim Raines, Ted Simmons and Harold Baines never finished fourth in Most Valuable Player voting. Fred McGriff did.

Neither Robin Yount nor Jeff Bagwell made five All-Star Games. Fred McGriff did.

Jim Thome, who clobbered over 600 career home runs, won one, single, solitary Silver Slugger. Fred McGriff won three.

Among all players, ever, he ranks near the top in slugging percentage and extra base hits and, heck, even putouts.

And all those RBI. He had more than Mantle and DiMaggio and Stargell, not quite as many as McCovey, but more than Berra and Piazza and Bench.

From 1991 to 2001, a span of 11 seasons, he averaged exactly 100 per year; he reached the triple digit mark eight times, including 2002, one of his final campaigns, as he was winding down his career.

Just seven home runs.

McGriff hit .435 in the 1993 American League Championship Series, his second postseason appearance, and .333 in the 1997 NLCS, his last.

In between, he reached the playoffs three more times, and played 33 more games, posting a career slash line of .303/.385/.532. He slugged 10 dingers. He drove 37 runs home.

A World Series ring would’ve been a dream for Atlanta in 1995, instead of a reality, without McGriff leading them. In that year’s NLDS, he hit .333; in the ALCS, his on-base percentage was .526; in the Fall Classic, he slugged .609.

In 2010, McGriff became eligible for the Hall of Fame; Andre Dawson was elected that year, and Bert Blyleven was just a few votes short. McGriff—Crime Dog—appeared on 116 ballots. 423 writers didn’t vote for him. Barely a fifth of them did.

And so it went for the next decade. In 2014, with Frank Thomas, Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine debuting on the ticket, he hit his nadir, with less than 70 voters choosing his name. Jeff Kent earned more votes. If it’s any consolation, Larry Walker earned less.

Come their final try on the ballot, players usually see a boost in support. Often, it’s substantial—Walker jumped over 20 points in his last year to earn election. Tim Raines’ support popped more than 16 points; Edgar Martinez’s, 15 points exactly.

McGriff, too, spiked in his ultimate chance. As much as Raines, in fact.

He earned less than 40 percent of the vote and fell off the ballot.

Just seven home runs.

During his career, McGriff was one of the game’s premier sluggers—no, actually, that’s an understatement. He was one of the best sluggers of all time.

He averaged one home run every 17.6 at-bats—better than Mel Ott and Johnny Mize!—and led the league in that statistic twice. From 1987 to 2002, a span of 16 seasons, he averaged 30 homers per year and never had less than 19 in a season.

Consistency was his trademark. Knock 1987 off that stretch and for 15 years he had no less than 81 RBI or 135 hits in any given year—and his hits fell that low only because it was a strike-shortened season, 1994, and he played just 113 games.

He slugged 30 or more home runs 10 times, or for more than half of his career and though he never reached 40, well, neither did Eddie Murray or Stan Musial. And Ted Williams, Mel Ott and Frank Robinson did it just once, each.

Just seven home runs.

The 500 home run club has 27 members. Barry Bonds sits at the top with 762 and it tails off with Murray at 504. In between, there’s Jimmie Foxx and Ernie Banks and, of course, Babe Ruth.

Each player who reached 500 home runs before 1997 is in the Hall of Fame, elected resoundingly, with little hesitation. Eleven of those 15 men joined on the first ballot; six earned 90 percent of the vote, three earned 95 percent.

Since then, Ken Griffey, Jr. was chosen, just a couple votes shy of a unanimous selection. Frank Thomas got in, and so did Jim Thome.

Of those not yet there, Albert Pujols is still active and might join Henry Aaron and Willie Mays with more than 95 percent of the vote when his chance arrives. Two, David Ortiz and Alex Rodriguez, are not yet eligible, having been retired too short a time to appear on the ballot.

Everyone else was swept up in the anti-steroid witch hunt, having been caught or accused of juicing, and the baseball moralists who predominate the voting class refuse to grant them election.

Rightly or wrongly, Bonds and Sheffield and Ramirez still wait their turns. But even they’ve had better luck with the writers than McGriff ever did. Bonds appeared on nearly 62 percent of the ballots last year, his second-to-last chance and—if recent history is any indication—he might yet see a spike of 15 points and walk into Cooperstown. Sheffield passed 40 percent for the first time in the most recent election, his seventh, and he, too, is trending toward eventual induction. Even Ramirez, who was suspended twice for steroid use, earned more than 28 percent of the vote in his fifth try.

McGriff took home 11.7 percent of the vote his fifth go-around.

And he was never even accused of or associated with steroid use. He never tested positive. He appeared in no reports. He can’t be grouped with Sheffield or McGwire, Bonds or Palmeiro.

He’d fit more alongside Griffey and Murray, Mays and Aaron.

Just seven home runs.

But McGriff hit only 493 home runs in his 19 seasons. With a few more, he’d be mentioned in the same breath as Foxx and McCovey, his baseball cards would be set aside and not tossed in a shoebox. You have more fingers than McGriff needed home runs to join a club of elites, a pantheon that would bestow on him legendary status, that would forever transform him from a consistent slugger to one of the best home run hitters of all time.

Each eligible man with 500 or more home runs not associated with performance enhancing drugs is in the Hall of Fame. To maintain that uniformity, McGriff would have been elected, first round, no doubt, if he reached the mark. Because that’s what the voters do. They select members of that club for Cooperstown. Seven home runs, that’s all McGriff needed to get there.

Just seven home runs.

Bill Freehan, who made 11 All-Star Games, has passed away

Bill Freehan, an 11-time All-Star catcher with the Detroit Tigers in the 1960s and 1970s, has passed away at 79.

He was the premier catcher of the Second Dead Ball Era, which ran from about 1964 to 1972, and was one of the best of his generation.

The 15-year veteran slugged 200 home runs, including 20 or more in a season three times, and ranked second behind only Johnny Bench among catchers of the 1960s and 1970s in that category.

Indeed, it is difficult to think of a better backstop not named Bench from that two-decade span. Ted Simmons was excellent and so was Gene Tenace. Tim McCarver could hold his own and even Jim Sundberg was beginning to make a name for himself.

But none of them, save for Bench, matched Freehan.

The voters knew it. They selected him to 11 All-Star Games, including 10 in a row, among the most of any player not in the Hall of Fame. And the writers, they were privy to his greatness. They awarded him five Gold Gloves for his defensive acumen—and they were well-earned. He led league catchers in putouts six times and fielding percentage thrice.

At the time of his retirement, he ranked among catching greats—legends, even—in almost all statistical categories. He was just two behind Hall of Fame catcher Bill Dickey in home runs and was a full ten ahead of Cooperstowner Ernie Lombardi. He ranked just behind Mickey Cochrane in total hits and just ahead of Roy Campanella in walks.

But he wasn’t just great in aggregate.

There was the 1968 World Series. Freehan didn’t contribute much in the actual Fall Classic—just 2 hits and 4 walks—but his regular season propelled them to that point.

Behind Willie Horton, he was the team’s superstar. His 25 dingers tied for second on the club, as did his 24 doubles. He had 84 RBI—good for second on the team—and his .366 on-base percentage finished behind only Al Kaline’s .392.  

A few years later, Freehan helped the Tigers to the American League Championship Series. Though the 30-year-old played just 111 games that year, his presence was felt in the postseason. It was a losing effort against the Yankees, but Number 11 did his part. He slugged a home run and knocked a double. He had 3 RBI.

As the seasons passed, wearing the tools of ignorance began to take its toll. Few did it as long as he did. His offense began to slip and, despite still showing flashes of his former greatness, he retired after the 1976 season.

Cooperstown awaited.

But the voters gave him hardly a look.

Perhaps they can be forgiven. In his only year on the ballot, 1982, he was competing with 14 future Hall of Famers for votes. They included Hank Aaron, Frank Robinson and Harmon Killebrew. Juan Marichal and Don Drysdale ranked among them, too. And don’t forget the players who never made the Hall, like Gil Hodges, who were garnering significant support, as well. It’s easy to be crowded out in such a field.

But what cannot be forgiven is the cold shoulder the writers gave Freehan. He didn’t earn a handful of votes and another look in 1983. Rather, he appeared on just a couple ballots, less than one percent of the total, and was swept into the dustbin of history.

This catcher who made more All-Star Games than Torre, Lombardi and Simmons, Hall of Famers all, this catcher who won more Gold Gloves than Carter and Piazza and Fisk was given a couple pity votes and then shooed away.

It’s an injustice.

But one, perhaps, that might soon be corrected. The Hall of Fame has a knack for inducting individuals only after they pass away. It happened to Ron Santo. It happened to Marvin Miller, Nellie Fox and Leo Durocher.

And for the sake of all that is holy,

It’d better happen to Bill Freehan, as well.