Best Catcher Seasons Ever

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At the end of 2003, the Kansas City Royals spent way too much money to sign catcher Benito Santiago, who was, according to carbon dating, approximately 834 years old. Those were heady days in Kansas City. The Royals had somehow managed to stay in first place in the American League Central for most of the 2003 season. The reasons for this minor miracle (it was not quite as large a miracle as turning water into wine – more like the minor miracle of making one day’s worth of oil last for eight days) would become apparent over time. Heck, the reasons were probably apparent then:

-- Lousy division.
-- An unrepeatable and fluky .304 batting average with runners in scoring position.
-- The supreme talents of the soon-to-be-gone Carlos Beltran.
-- The steadiness of the soon-to-be-gone Raul Ibanez.
-- A month and a half where Jose Lima improbably pitched like Greg Maddux (He was, at one point, 7-0 with a 2.17 ERA).
-- The artificial emergence of Angel Berroa.

It took all these things and many more for the Royals to finish the season at 83-79 – a mediocre season for most other clubs but a godsend for Kansas City. After so many awful years, everybody wanted to believe (so much so that Tony Peña’s “Nosotros Creemos” T-shirts could be found all over town). And this was especially true of Royals management. They failed to re-sign Raul Ibanez, but they went free agent crazy in that moderate, self-defeating small-market way. The re-signed Brian Anderson, who was coming off his best season, and they re-signed Joe Randa. They re-signed Curtis Leskanic. They re-signed Jason Grimsley. They went outside the organization too – they signed Tony Graffanino. They signed Matt Stairs. For the big headline, they nabbed Juan Gonzalez. Nostros Creemos, indeed.

As you know (if you care) the Royals 2004 season was a disaster and just about every one of the players Kansas City signed turned in catastrophic seasons. But I didn’t bring up any of this to relive bad Royals’ memories. I brought it up because one of the many bad signings that year was Benito Santiago.

And here’s what I remember about Santiago. He would not give a target to the pitcher. He just wouldn’t. He crouched behind the plate, kept his glove down between his legs, and basically wore a look that said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah throw whatever you want, I’m too old to lift up my glove for some young punk like you. I’ve been catching baseballs since the Mesozoic Age, kiddo.”

There were a few complaints, from what I recall, mostly on talk radio. And then Tony Peña, who knows a little something about catching, said that giving a target was overrated anyway. A couple of pitchers agreed and gave quote that basically said: “Hey, this isn’t Little League – we don’t need catchers to give us targets.” And so on.

The Royals had so many other problems that year the no-target thing blew over, but I’ve thought a lot about it. If holding up a target doesn’t really matter then what the hell is a catcher out there for except to block balls in the dirt, catch pop-ups and try to throw out base stealers?

In other words: How important is catcher’s defense anyway?

People in baseball generally believe that catcher’s defense is pretty important – more important than, say, a good energy policy or homeland security. Royals’ manager Buddy Bell is pretty typical, I think – he won’t even talk about his catcher’s offense. He just won’t. When Kansas City catcher John Buck got off to a hot start with the bat (a start that, apparently, is over now), Buddy would more or less refuse to answer any questions about it. He believes catchers are out there for one thing, and one thing only. Defense. In Buddy’s world (and the world of most managers, I would say), catchers handle pitchers and block balls in the dirt and call the game. And this explains why Jason Larue’s .194 batting average is in the lineup every other day. Buddy thinks LaRue handles pitchers well.

On the other hand, there seems to be a strong counter-group that believes catcher’s defense belongs in Woody Allen’s Museum of the Overrated. Statistically, it is very difficult to find much evidence that pitchers throw better to certain catchers or even evidence that catchers’ defense is any more important than, say, a second baseman’s defense or a centerfielder or whatever.

All of this comes up because in today’s blog were are ranking the 10 best catcher seasons ever, and it’s hard to know just how much defense to throw in there. The best offensive seasons are easy – it begins with Mike Piazza’s 1997 season. But Piazza that year had 10 passed balls, 16 errors and threw out pretty much nobody on the bases. How do you compare that with, say, Johnny Bench in ’72 or Ivan Rodriguez in ’99 or Bill Dickey in 1936?

So I came up with another mathematically unsound system that tries to rate all those things a catcher does. The system fails miserably, as is apparent from the very first guy on the list. But the system took too long for me to come up with it … so you’re stuck with it too.

10. Chris Hoiles, 1993.
Catcher score: 140
Key statistics: .310, 29, 82, .416 on-bat percentage.

Thoughts: Yikes, the system is off to a very bad start. Hoiles in 1993? And he beat out Carlton Fisk in 1977 and Jorge Posada in 2003 by one point each. There’s something very, very wrong here. I feel like one of those ventriloquists who acts surprised when his dummy says something crude.

That said, Hoiles did pound the ball in 1993. He wasn’t embarrassingly bad against base stealers (he threw out 47 of 114). He only had a couple of passed balls. And the Orioles pitching staff that year did not appear to wildly underachieve – they just weren’t much good.

INTERLUDE: That was some pitching staff, by the way, the 1993 Orioles. Those Orioles had a young Ben McDonald and a young Mike Mussina. They had Jamie Moyer, who was 30 and just beginning to figure things out. They had an ancient Rick Sutcliffe. And, this is the one I don’t remember at all, they had Fernando Valenzuela.

With a time machine, how good could that staff have been? And what would be the best time machine staff in baseball history? Maybe we’ll do that one later.

Back to Hoiles. I think the system has this wrong. I think Fisk in 1977 (.315, 26, 102) had a better year than Hoiles, but so it goes.

9. Ivan Rodriguez, 1999
Catcher score: 145
Key statistics: .332, 35, 113. 25 stolen bases.

Thoughts: Pudge v.2.0 won the MVP award – this was that crazy Pedro Martinez year – and I don’t think he deserved it. BUT this might be the greatest defensive year a catcher has ever had. Bill James thinks so – Rodriguez earned 11.95 Fielding Win Shares this season, and that’s more than any other catcher, any other year.

His defense really was amazing. That’s why he’s on this list – his offensive numbers, in context, are not as impressive as many others who missed the list (including Dick Dietz in 1970 – what a year. Dietz hit .300, walked 109 times, banged 22 homers, drove in 107 runs, wow. Dick Dietz!).

Rodriguez’s arm was so overwhelming that hardly anybody tried to steal bases against him – and those who did usually ended up dead. He threw out 41 of 75 runners. The Rangers pitching staff was pretty brutal, and there were rumors than Rodriguez was bad at handling pitchers. In retrospect, the Rangers’ pitching problems might have had something to do with the fact their rotation was Rick Helling, Aaron Sele, John Burkett, a 493-year-old Mike Morgan, Mark Clark and Ryan Glynn.

8. Yogi Berra, 1953
Catcher score: 150
Key statistics: .296, 27, 108.

Thoughts: Everybody loves Yogi. The guy’s lovable. His role as Yogi in the barber’s chair is the DeNiro in Godfather II performance of the AFLAC commercials. (The new AFLAC goat? I’m not getting it. Though that “Nyah nyah nyah” thing is pretty funny). And even though Yogi admits that he didn’t say half the things he said, his quotes remain a classic part of the game:

-- “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” (He probably said this).
-- “This is like déjà vu all over again.” (He didn’t say this – no way).
-- “I want to thank you all for making this day necessary” (Yogi Berra Day, 1947, yeah, he probably said this).
-- “How the hell you gonna think and hit at the same time.” (I think he said this).
-- “Nobody goes to that restaurant anymore. It’s too crowded.” (I doubt it’s his).
-- “If the fans don’t come to the ballpark, you can’t stop them.” (Supposedly said about Kansas City fans – it’s probably his).
-- “You should always go to other people’s funerals otherwise they won’t go to yours.” (I doubt it.)
-- “Why buy good luggage? You can only use it when you travel.” (That’s his).
-- “It gets late early out there.” (Talking about the Yankee Stadium outfield).
-- “You can observe a lot by just watching. (Sounds like Yogi).

The key thing here is that you can invent a Yogi Berra quote pretty much anytime you want. It’s easy. There are three ways to do it.

(1) Take a famous cliché of some kind and switch out a couple of the words so that it loses its meaning:

Cliche: “You’ve got to take it one day at a time.”
Yogified: “You’ve got to take it one time a day.”

Cliche: “Sometimes you’ve just got to tip your cap to the other guy.”
Yogified: “Sometimes you’ve just got to tip the other guy.”

Cliche: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
Yogified: “Like the man said, it was the best of the worst times or something.”

(2) Say two opposing things in the same sentence so that it sounds vaguely wise.

New Yogiism: “The best time to sleep is when you’re awake.”
New Yogiism: “I only vote for politicians who I wouldn’t vote for.”
New Yogiism: “You should only bunt when you shouldn’t bunt.”

(3) Say something that shows a childlike lack of understanding:

New Yogiism: “The sun rises every morning except when it’s cloudy.”
New Yogiism: “I only read stories that have words in them.”
New Yogiism: “It’s amazing how clouds are always the shape that you think they are.”

7. Gary Carter, 1984
Catcher score: 152
Key statistics: .294, 27, 106.

Thoughts: OK, so how many baseball players through the years have been called “Kid?”

Well, there was Kid Nichols, Kansas City’s own. Won 361 games. He was an instant sensation – won 27 game his first season with the Boston Beaneaters – and won 20 or more the next nine years. Beloved player. Don’t know why they called him Kid.

Then again, in those early days, every other player was called Kid. There was Kid Baldwin, Kid Carsey, Kid Camp, Kid Keenan, Kid Madden, Kid Mohler, Kid O’Hara, Kid Speer, Kid Summers, Kid Wilson, Kid Durbin, Kid Withrow and two Kid Butlers, one Butler hit .169 in 71 games in 1884, the other Butler hit .220 in 1907.

Of course, there was Kid Gleason, the lovable ol’ Black Sox manager who played by lovable ol’ John Mahoney in “Eight Men Out.” Kid Gleason led the league in sacrifice hits as a player. Twice.

They called Billy DeMars “Kid,” even though most of us only remember him as the seemingly ancient coach with the Phillies and Reds. They called Mal Eason “Kid,” and then they hit him like a kid – his career record was 36-72.

Ted Williams was, of course, “The Kid,” along with being “The Splendid Splinter,” “The Thumper” and “Teddy Ballgame.” You will notice that three of Williams’ nicknames begin with the honorific “The.” He wasn’t “Kid Williams.” He was “The Kid.”

George Stutz managed only nine at-bats in the big leagues, but he had two nicknames – Kid and Satan. It’s hard to see how Stutz managed to create such a huge impression in such a short time – though he was only 5-foot-5, and really short and really large people are usually the first to get nicknames.

Ron Moeller was “The Kid” for obvious reasons – he came up to the big leagues in 1956 when he was only 17 years old. Amazingly, he was not even the youngest player in the league that year. The youngest player was 16-year-old Jim Derrington. They called him “Blackie.”

Eddie Foster, who has six homers in more than 5,000 at-bats – that’s a record – was called Kid. So was Willie McGill, who came up when he was 16 and pitched to the rip old age of 22.

There were other kinds of kids too – Ernie Smith was the Kansas City Kid, even though he was born in Totowa, New Jersey. Johnnie Seale was the Durango Kid. Norman Elberfeld played 14 years, and everybody called him Kid, but that was short for The Tabasco Kid. George Susce lived a full baseball life as a player and coach – his son played as well. They called George “Good Kid.”

And, of course, they called Gary Carter “Kid.” He was a good Kid, but they didn’t call him that.

6. Mickey Cochrane, 1933.
Catcher score: 155
Key statistics: .322, 15, 60, 106 walks, 157 OPS+

Thoughts: Between 1921 and 1952, there were 35 seasons where a batter had 500 or more at bats and 10 or fewer strikeouts. Mickey Cochrane had one of those seasons in 1929 – he had 514 at-bats and struck out just eight times.

Nobody has had that sort of non-strikeout season since 1952, and I wonder what this says. The theory I’ve heard most often is that men were men in those days, and they were embarrassed by strikeouts and they simply refused to whiff.

I think a more likely explanation is that pitchers in those days generally did not have the same assortment of strikeout pitches. I asked a scout friend of mine to rank the pitches that players strike out on most these days. I’m not sure he’s right, but he ranked them like so:

1. High fastball (swing and a miss).
2. Split-fingered fastball in the dirt (swing and a miss).
3. Slider breaking in on the hands (or away from the right-handed hitter).
4. Fastball painting the outside corner (looking).
5. Curveball that breaks into the zone (looking).
6. Change-up (swing and a miss).

Generally speaking, pitchers of that era did not have either pitch No. 2 or pitch No. 3. Of course, you could strike out a lot of guys with just a high fastball and huge curveball – that’s all Sandy Koufax and Bob Feller threw. But there haven’t been many who threw a fastball or a curveball like Koufax or Feller.

5. Mike Piazza, 1997
Catcher score: 156
Key statistics: .362, 40, 124, 1.070 OPS.

Thoughts: This is, bar none, the greatest offensive season a catcher has ever had. And it isn’t particularly close. Here are the Top 5 offensive catcher seasons since Deadball as ranked by runs created:

1. Mike Piazza, 1997: 149
2. Bill Dickey, 1937: 132.
3. Gabby Hartnett, 1930: 128
4. Roy Campanella, 1953: 127
5. Yogi Berra, 1950: 123

So the tough question to answer is this: How much did Mike Piazza’s defense hurt the Dodgers in 1997. On one level, it did not seem to hurt the Dodgers at all. Los Angeles had the second best ERA in the National League even though they had a pitching staff made up of Ismael Valdez, Hideo Nomo, Chan Ho Park, Pedro Astacio and Ramon Martinez.

On another level, though, Mike Piazza is quite possibly the worst throwing everyday catcher in baseball history. In fact, someone went back and ranked all the catchers going back to 1957 – the first year Retrosheet has stolen base statistics for catchers – and calculated that Mike Piazza IS the worst throwing everyday catcher at least in 50 years.

In 1997, base runners stole 112 bases on Piazza’s watch, and he was only able to throw out 43. That was actually significantly better than 1996, when Piazza only threw out 34 of 189 base runners – that’s one of the worst years ever.

So compare him to, say, Ivan Rodriguez in 1999. Only 34 base runners swiped bases against Pudge v.2.0 – that’s 78 fewer bases allowed. That equals quite a few runs. And Rodriguez threw out 41, so he created almost as many outs as Piazza in many fewer chances. Add in that Piazza led all catchers in errors (most of them throwing errors, so that’s even more bases) and he had those 10 passed balls (after leading the league two straight years), well, it’s hard to imagine that Piazza’s ability to handle pitchers made up much of that ground.

But we really don’t know. That’s the crazy thing about catcher’s defense – even after all the studies, we really don’t know much. We don’t how important it is, how much it affects pitching, how many bases are stolen off the pitcher rather than the catcher and so on. Everybody has an opinion about it, though. There are people in baseball I know who would not have put Piazza in the Top 50 list no matter how good an offensive season he had because of his defensive liabilities. And there are others I know who will believe that Piazza belongs at No. 1 – he had the best offensive season and no amount of brilliant catcher defense can make up the difference.

I probably fall in the middle somewhere. And so he’s here.

4. Gabby Hartnett, 1930
Catcher score: 158
Key statistics: .339, 37, 122, 1.034 OPS.

Thoughts: Gabby Hartnett has one of those great old time baseball stories, the kind that never seems to happen anymore.

Leo Hartnett broke his arm when he was young and so, to help it heal, his mother had him carry around a bucket of rocks. A strong arm was a big thing to the enormous Hartnett family – Fred Hartnett, the Dad, was a semi-pro catcher apparently famous for his powerful arm. And Leo’s brother Chickie supposedly had the greatest arm scouts had ever seen (he went to play ball, got homesick, and came home). I love that one of Gabby’s 13 siblings was named Chickie. I wish I knew the other Hartnett clan’s names. It’s like they had their own Snow White/dwarves thing going on.

Leo was apparently not much of a player in high school – nobody even noticed him. He kept working, though, and when he was 21 – against all odds, apparently – he was invited to a tryout with the Chicago Cubs. His mother – and remember, this was the woman who had him carrying around that bucket of stones – told him to keep his mouth shut. Leo always listened to his mother so the legend is he did not say a single word to anybody. That’s why they called him Gabby.

Two years later, he was the Cubs regular catcher. And then he was a star. And then he hit the Homer in the Gloaming. And then he was in the Hall of Fame.

He was, by accounts, the greatest defensive catcher of his time, a whiz at blocking the plate and, of course, he had that incredible arm. Bill James rated him an A+ defender using Win Shares.

This was, by far, Gabby’s biggest numbers year offensively, though 1930 was a crazy offensive year in the National League. This was the year Bill Terry hit .401, the year Hack Wilson drove in 191 runs, the year the top nine guys in the league had OPS higher than 1.000. So, in context, the numbers are not as good as they look. But with his defensive abilities mixed in, he still ranks No. 4 overall.

3. Roy Campanella, 1953.
Catcher score: 160
Key statistics: .312, 41, 142, 1.006 OPS.

Thoughts: I sometimes wonder what baseball integration would have been like had Jackie Robinson not been the first. Just about everybody believes that Robinson was the right man because of his indomitable spirit – he simply would not fail. In 1947, that was exactly what was needed. The worst possible thing would have been for the first black Major Leaguer to come up, hit .148, make errors and fold under the enormous pressure. That could have happened too. It did happen to some talented players after Robinson.

There is no sure way to know what effect a failure might have had on baseball. Maybe it would not have mattered at all – maybe someone like Bill Veeck would have signed Larry Doby anyway, and he would have succeeded, and integration would have gone on pretty much as it did. Or maybe it would have been stalled for 10 years.

Still, the first player did not have to be Jackie Robinson. Buck O’Neil firmly believed that Jackie Robinson was the right man, but he used to say that integration might have gone in a very differently direction had Satchel Paige been the first. Paige was already pretty famous throughout America. He had been written about in Time and the Saturday Evening Post. Joe DiMaggio had called him the best he ever faced. Players throughout baseball knew him and, in their own way, respected him.

So Buck believed that the players would not have taunted Paige the way they taunted Robinson. It would have been a very different experience. But, at the same time, most people back then saw Satchel Paige as belong to a whole different category – a friend of mine makes a great comparison: Many basketball fans do not respect or like women’s basketball, but almost everybody respects Pat Summitt. She’s obviously an amazing coach. It’s like she’s larger than the women’s game. If Pat Summitt went on to coach in the NBA, for instance, and she succeeded, people might not naturally take that to mean that OTHER women could coach men’s basketball. That’s how it was with Paige. Even if he had come in and been a star, that might not have opened the door as wide as Robinson did.

Roy Campanella might have been first too. That might have been interesting. Whenever you read about that time, you will read numerous quotes from people who could not stand Jackie Robinson but liked Campy. Robinson was a hard case, a proud man who fought hard and never gave in and rocked every boat he saw. He had the stuff of a pioneer. Campy was a gentler soul, funny, not as eager for a fight, proud in a different way. Jackie Robinson also said he had a little Uncle Tom in him.

Campy was undoubtedly a great player – perhaps even greater than Robinson. He won the back-to-back MVP awards. He was a great offensive and defensive catcher. He was beloved by most of his pitchers.

Martin Luther King said that change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability. We look back at integration in baseball now as something that had to happen, but that’s just not the way it was in 1947. I do believe that Jackie Robinson was the right man, right time, right place. But I wonder how baseball history would have been changed – if at all – if Campy had been first.

2. Bill Dickey, 1936
Catcher score: 161
Key statistics: .362, 22, 107, .428 OBP.

Thoughts: Seven things about Bill Dickey that may not have known:

(1) He was the only active player to play himself in “Pride of the Yankees.”
(2) He was the one who broke Carl Hubbell’s famous strikeout streak in the 1934 All-Star Game. He singled.
(3) He holds the record for most games caught in a World Series (38).
(4) He was fined $1,000 and suspended for 30 days for breaking Carl Reynolds jaw with one punch after the collided at home plate.
(5) He never played a single game at any position but catcher.
(6) His .313 career batting average ties him with Piazza for second on the all-time list among catchers (behind Cochrane).
(7) This year he struck out only 16 times in 472 plate appearances – there was something then about catchers making contact, I guess.

1. Johnny Bench, 1972
Catcher score: 162
Key statistics: .270, 40, 125, 100 walks.

Thoughts: One of my favorite all-time baseball stories – and I have absolutely no idea if it’s true – involves Johnny Bench when he was a rookie in 1968. Apparently he was catching Jim Maloney in spring training and Maloney was getting hit. Every time Bench called for the curve, Maloney would shake him off. So Bench went to the mound and said something like, “Uh, Jim, you’re fastball just isn’t popping. We should throw some curves.”

To which Maloney said something sensitive like: “(Bleep) you you (bleeping) (bleepity) (bleeper) rookie.”

Bench shrugged went behind home plate and promptly called for the curve again. Maloney shook him off. So Bench called for the fastball, Maloney threw, Bench dropped his glove and caught it barehanded.

See, now, that’s proving a point. Bench was amazing. His 1972 season is possibly the second-best offensive season for a catcher behind Piazza. But, get this: In 1972, Bench allowed 24 stolen bases. All year. And he caught the runners 31 times. He was a machine – people simply did not run on him. And that might be the best compliment of all – nobody even TRIED to run on him.

Assorted great throwing seasons for catchers:
Elston Howard, 1963: 37 attempts, 15 caught
Ivan Rodriguez, 2000: 39 attempts, 19 caught
Ivan Rodriguez, 2002: 41 attempts, 15 caught
Ivan Rodriguez, 2006: 51 attempts, 26 caught
Johhny Bench, 1972: 55 attempts, 31 caught.
Johnny Bench, 1973: 55 attempts, 27 caught.
Mike Matheny, 2001: 58 attempts, 28 caught.
Bengie Molina, 2005: 64 attempts, 20 caught

Assorted terrible throwing seasons for catchers
Mike Piazza, 1996: 189 attempts, 34 caught
Jason Varitek, 1999: 170 attempts, 46 caught
John Flaherty, 1997: 175 attempts, 50 caught
Ted Simmons, 1978: 190 attempts, 65 caught.
Pat Borders, 1992: 167 attempts, 51 caught
Mike Piazza, 2001: 147 attempts, 33 caught.
Mike Piazza, 2002: 152 attempts, 27 caught
Mike Piazza, 1999: 152 attempts, 37 caught
Darrin Fletcher, 1996: 136 attempt, 27 caught.
Jason Kendall, 2005: 123 attempts, 22 caught.
Mike Piazza 2006: 110 attempts, 13 caught

The other thing that I love about Bench is that, supposedly, he could hold six baseballs in one hand. That’s amazing. I remember once seeing the famous Sports Illustrated photograph of Andre the Giant’s hand, and he was holding a beer can in the palm of his hand. The can looked to be about the size of a quarter. That doesn’t really have anything to do with anything, but, hey, I’m all blogged out.