Rock and Rice

I really didn’t mean for the following to come out like this. Really. Some of you people already think I hate Jim Rice, and I really don’t. Rice was one of the overpowering presences of my childhood. Of course, this alone does not mean all that much in historic terms – other overpowering presences of my childhood include Mark Fidrych, John Montefusco, John Mayberry, Bucky Dent, Charlie Spikes and Joe Rudi.

But the problem whenever you talk about something like the Hall of Fame is that emotions fray, and people lose all perspective. When someone says, “I don’t think Jim Rice is quite a Hall of Famer,” well, to a Jim Rice fan that sounds like, “I think Jim Rice sucks.” Then they bring up statistics to prove that you are an idiot, and you bring up counter statistics to show that, no, actually, they are the idiotic ones. This escalates until we find that everybody hates everybody, and we’re in a quagmire in Iraq, and Michael Vick kills dogs (allegedly) and Brad breaks up with Jen, all because I think Jim Rice is not a Hall of Fame player. It’s too much pressure for one man.

Sigh. Anyway, I was going to move on from this Rice craziness, but somewhere in all the comments I found an interesting one that compared Rice to Rocky Colavito. I’m a huge Rocky Colavito fan, of course, because he was nice to me at a ballgame once (he was an Indians coach then), and also because that same day I saw him stand at home plate and throw a baseball over the center field wall, which is still one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

I realized then that I had never really delved into the career of Rocky Colavito. I mean, I knew the basics. Good player. Power hitter. Great arm. Traded for Harvey Kuehn. Came to Kansas City for a year (that was the year A’s owner Charley Finley decided that in order to win his team had to lead the league in homers). Returned to Cleveland. Was pretty well finished at 33.

But I had never looked harder. Now I did. And I came up with two things. One, I must admit, is directly related to a different comment I saw, a comment that suggested that because Jim Rice led the American League in some 12 categories over a 12-year period (1975-86), he should automatically be a Hall of Famer. These statistics would include: Games played, at-bats, runs, hits, homers, RBIs, slugging percentage, total bases, extra base hits, go-ahead RBIs, multi-hit games and outfield assists.

OK, so how about this? From 1957-1966 – I realize this is the more conventional 10-year period, but still – Rocky Colavito led the American League in: Games played, times reached base, home runs, RBIs, total bases, extra base hits, outfield assists and outfield double plays. I don’t know how to look up multi-hit games or go-ahead RBIs or whatever else. But here’s the thing: There were, I believe, better players in the American League at that time than in Rice’s time. For instance, Colavito was second in runs and in runs created to Mickey Mantle. There was no Mickey Mantle from 1975-86. Colavito was second in outfield putouts to Al Kaline. He was second in plate appearances to Luis Aparicio.

This is not to downplay what Rice accomplished. This is to upplay (a new word!) what Colavito did. And he did it without Fenway Park. Look: Both men had careers that tailed off shockingly, and because of that their counting stats do not blow you away (especially Colavito’s). But now Jim Rice seems to be on the brink of the Hall of Fame because of 12 years … maybe we should take another look at the Rock for his 10.

Then there’s the second thing, and if you are a huge Jim Rice fan and angry at me already, you might want to stop reading right now. Really. Just stop. I didn’t mean for it to come out this way, but I wanted to see if Rocky Colavito’s best year (1961) was better than Jim Rice’s best year (1978).

Here are the basic numbers:

Colavito (1961): .290/.402/.580, 45 homers, 140 RBIs, 129 runs, 30 doubles, 2 triples, 157 OPS+.
(Note: This is probably not Colavito’s best year – in 1958 he went .303/.405/.620 and had an OPS+ of 181. But it was a shorter season and he missed some games, so 1961 has better counting numbers and is probably a more comparable year).

Rice: (1978) .315/.370/.600, 46 homers, 139 RBIs, 121 runs, 25 doubles, 15 triples(!), 158 OPS+.

The seasons are very similar. And each had their advantages. Colavito’s year was an expansion season and so there were many huge offensive years – that was, of course, Maris’ 61 homer year, Norm Cash’s monster year, Jim Gentile’s monster year, etc. Rice’s year came in a pretty low-scoring run environment.

On the other hand, Colavito played in a home Detroit ballpark that did nothing for him. Look at his rather staggering home/road splits in 1961:

Home: .257/.373/.500, 18 homers, 62 RBIs.
Road: .320/.429/.653 27 homers, 78 RBIs.

And of course, Rice’s home/road splits from his great season are quite famous:

Home: .361/.416/.690, 28 homers, 78 RBIs.
Road: .269/.325/.512, 18 homers, 64 RBIs.

So, now what? Well, here’s what I tried to do: I came up with a formula. I took several of the more advanced statistics available. I took runs created above average, sprinkled in some wins above replacement player, added a touch of equivalent average, secondary average, OPS+ and on-base percentage and finally incorporated in your basic fantasy stats (average, home runs, RBIs, stolen bases). And then I came up with a super score to determine how good the season was.

I found my answer. And then I thought: Hey, this is kind of fun, why don’t I try to come up with the top 100 seasons since, say, 1960.

Here are the two rather surprising results (at least according to the formula I used):

1. Colavito’s season scores better. Not a lot better, but maybe 5 percent better.
2. Neither season ranked in the Top 100 since 1960.

I found this second one hard to believe. I mean, yes, it’s true, I don’t see Rice as quite a Hall of Famer. But I’ve always thought him a fearsome hitter, and I always thought of 1978 as a truly great season, even taking into account the Fenway Factor. I’m not saying I’m right – I’m sure my formula is absurdly flawed. Still, it wasn’t close. Colavito’s season ranked 148th; Rice’s season ranked 182nd. Strange.

Tell you what: Next blog, I’ll list the Top 100 seasons, with a few comments.

Editor's note: To respond to one more Jim Rice comment: My personal opinion is that I don’t think Jim Rice’s fire or lack thereof has much, if anything, to do with the way Hall of Fame voters deal with him. I do know that one friend (not a voter) often talks about how once he was reading a profile of Rice in a game program. The interviewer asked Rice to name his favorite day in baseball. He responded: “Every other Monday,” or something like that, referring to payday. I think that little story reflects the impression Rice left on a lot of people – including teammates. But again, I don’t think that’s what is keeping him out of the Hall so far. If he had 450 homers, I bet he’d be in. Plus, I think he will get in quite soon, maybe as soon as this year.

Bloggy Friday: More fun with Rice ...

I have to say that it has been fun watching the comments section blow up over Jim Rice -- not to mention what's happening over at Baseball Primer. It has inspired me to work on a project that I don't know if I will get done today ... but it has been a little while since I've tried one those mass absurd statistical analysis. I'm putting one together now. Hold on.

In the meantime, brilliant reader Anonymous -- boy, you post a lot of comments, Anon -- offers this challenge:

Perhaps one of the anti-Rice contingent would like to swat this factoid out of the way:

Among ballplayers with at least 382 homers and a .298 career batting average, everyone other than Rice is in the Hall or expected to make it when they are eligible.

First off, this is probably not true -- Larry Walker qualifies even under these rather restrictive standards, and I suspect he won't go to the Hall of Fame. Second, I would not consider myself part of the anti-Rice contingent so much as someone who believes he was a great player who falls just shy of the Hall of Fame standards I have set.

However, I am not here to swat away this factoid so much as add a few more.

-- Among players with at least 1,400 strikeouts and fewer than 700 walks, everyone other than Rice is not in the Hall of Fame.
-- Among players who have grounded into more than 300 double plays and hit fewer than 450 homers, everyone other than Rice is not in the Hall of Fame.
-- Among non-Gold Glove winners who never played on a World Series Champ and had fewer than 2,500 hits, fewer than 400 homers and less than a .300 average, everyone other than Rice is not in the Hall of Fame.
-- Among those players with fewer than 60 stolen bases, fewer than 80 intentional walks who also led the league in outs twice, everyone other than Rice is not in the Hall of Fame.

See, it's fun! Try it for yourself.

Bloggy Friday: Great Scott!

People around baseball don't always have very nice things to say about Superagent Scott Boras. But nobody should doubt that he does his job very well. He doesn't win every fight, but he wins most of them; he gets his players a lot more money than they might have gotten otherwise. And when you come right down to it, that's a pretty good description of an agent's job.

I bring this up because there seems to be some sort of feeling that Boras "caved in" when it came to Royals draft pick Mike Moustakas. This is because Boras only got Mike a $4 million signing bonus. This just shows you the sheer genius of Boras. He wins even when people think he loses.

When the Royals drafted Mike Moustakas, they were strongly led to believe by the family that he would sign for slot money. That's $3.15 million for the No. 2 pick in the country. At the time, you have to remember, Moustakas was not necessarily viewed as the second-best player in the country. Many people liked high school pitcher Rick Porcello more. Many people like Georgia Tech catcher Matt Wieters more. Some people liked high school hitter Josh Vitters more. There were others too. People generally viewed this draft like the end verse of the original Gilligan's Island theme song -- "David Price and the rest." Moustakas was one of the rest. Sure, he was certainly well-liked by scouts, but nobody was comparing him to Alex Rodriguez. Well, not until after the draft anyway.

Point is, Moustakas' family had every right to be thrilled by what was happening. Suddenly Mike was the No. 2 pick in the country and he was going to get more than $3 million, this was way more than they had expected. Mike wanted to play ball, and this looked to be an easy deal and a whole lot of money.

This is where Scott Boras comes in. Scott does not settle. It doesn't make him likeable -- to management or to fans -- but from what I can tell, he doesn't care about that. He cares about getting his player the most money. And so for two months, he did not even talk to the Royals. He didn't even call to turn down the slot money offer, he made it seem like an offer of $3.15 million was beneath contempt. Scott understood the thing that all tough agents understand. Time was on his side.

After a while, the tension started to deepen. Scott Boras likes tension. At first, everybody around baseball believed that Moustakas would eventually sign. But after a while, doubt creeped in. Scott Boras likes doubt. He floated this whole thing about Moustakas being the best high school infielder since A-Rod, and that was quoted in lots of places. Sure, it was generally quoted in the ironic "Here's Boras being Boras" context, but that doesn't matter -- Moustakas-A-Rod. The two names became somehow linked in the mind.

Then people started PREDICTING that Moustakas would not sign. Now it was more than doubt. Now it was apparent that the Royals had to do something or lose the No. 2 pick in the draft. A couple of days before the draft, Boras' lieutenant said that Moustakas' would not sign for less than $7 million. Another brilliant tactic -- the impossibly high demand. Boras knew he wasn't getting $7 million for the kid -- but that wasn't the point. The point was panic. Scott Boras LOVES panic.

The day of the draft deadline, Boras left a message with our own Star reporter Sam Mellinger -- "I talked to the family; I think Mike is going back to school." Well, there it was, the final salvo, a cherry on top of the panic sundae. Sam called me and we talked about it. We appreciated that could be a last-day tactic. But what can you do? When Scott Boras tells you the kid's going back to school, that's news. Up it went on the Internet. The Royals suddenly looked like big losers.

That's about the time when Royals GM Dayton Moore went back to ownership and they moved the offer up to $4 million. That was a high as Moore was going to go -- that's what Alex Gordon got two years before, and Gordon was a much more advanced prospect coming out of college than Moustakas is coming out of high school. The Royals then waited and waited, and 10 minutes before the deadline Boras called and said that against his recommendation, the family had decided to accept the offer. This is another brilliant Boras trait. He's always happy and ready to make himself the bad guy.

And this is how, with a little manipulation, a few unreturned calls, and a bad-ass reputation, Scott Boras got Mike Moustakas 850,000 more dollars than anyone had any right to expect. That's not a bad two month's work. And people think he lost, which I would guess just makes it all the sweeter.

Rice, Rice Baby ...

There’s a spirited debate going on here in the comments about the Hall of Fame merits of Jim Rice. The debate is spearheaded by brilliant reader and Rice lobbyist Paul White. I have received numerous thoughtful and thought-provoking emails through the years from Paul on the subject of Jim Rice – and, in fact, I was one of those “morons” who took points away from Rice because of his penchant for the double play. Paul straightened me out pretty good on that one.

For the record: Paul has not changed my mind on Rice – I still do not see him as a Hall of Famer – but he has softened my views.

That’s not the point of this blog, though. I’m always fascinated by the logic of arguments. In a way, this is what I do as a columnist: Try to break down the logic of arguments. Paul makes many good arguments about Rice, but in one place he does something that brushes me wrong, something that I see people do all the time. It is even something I caught Bill James doing in an email once -- and he actually conceded the point. I bring this up because I NEVER win arguments with Bill. I never really even try to win arguments with him; it’s like having LeBron James as a neighbor and playing him one-on-one basketball in the driveway. The point isn’t to win. The point is to enjoy the losing.

ANYWAY, back to Rice. Here is one of Paul’s basic arguments for Rice: There are 18 left fielders in the Hall of Fame right now (the Hall Web site actually lists 20, but they have Dave Winfield as a left fielder and also a couple of other players who may not qualify in your mind as left fielders). And Rice’s statistics rank quite favorably with the median of those in the Hall. Paul offers these statistics – these are Baseball Prospectus’ translated stats, and not actual stats – for the median Hall of Fame and for Rice.

AVG: HOF, .299; Rice, .293
OBP: HOF, .370; Rice, .354
SLG: HOF, .531; Rice, .545
OPS: HOF, .900; Rice, .899
HR: HOF, 480; Rice, 494
RBI: HOF, 1505; Rice, 1471

Rice, as you can see, ranks right there with the big boys. Of course, I very seriously doubt most BBWAA voters are using Baseball Prospectus’ Translated Stats, but for the sake of this blog, let’s concede the point: Let’s say Rice is at least comparable to the median standard set for left fielders in the Hall of Fame.

Paul then makes the bad jump, in my opinion. He believes that writers are doing him a disservice. The standards have been set, and Rice has met these standards and perhaps surpassed them. He’s as good or better than half the left fielders in the Hall and thus the writers should vote him in. This, as I understand it, is the argument.

Other people have pointed out one obvious flaw: That there are numerous outfielders out there who were better than Rice and are not in the Hall of Fame, including his old teammate Dwight Evans. I would agree wholeheartedly (although I have a pretty passionate email from Paul on the subject of Evans vs. Rice – Paul’s good, folks). But this is not my point either.

My point is this: There is more than one way to get into the Baseball Hall of Fame. Over time, yes, it has all blended into one building, which is great. But of those 20 left fielders – let’s use all 20 for counting purposes – nine were inducted by the veteran’s committee. One, Monte Irvin, was inducted by the Negro Leagues Committee. That means half of the Hall of Famers were, in fact, not voted in by the Baseball Writers Association of America.

I’m not saying that these men are in any way less worthy of the Hall of Fame because the writers ignored them. I believe both of those committees have righted some wrongs and put in some great players that we writers flat missed. It's a shame, for instance, that it took a special committee to put in Monte Irvin, who merits mention as one of the greatest players who ever lived, but spent his best years in the Negro Leagues and fighting for our country in World War II.

No, I’m not suggesting the writers' Hall of Famers are somehow superior or more worthy. I’m saying it isn’t logical to hold up the writers to standards which they had absolutely nothing to do with. The fact that Kiki Cuyler or Chick Hafey or Goose Goslin are in the Hall of Fame has absolutely nothing to do with whether or not the writers should vote in Jim Rice. These guys were not writers’s choices. They were veteran’s choices. In fact, I would argue that because the voters very specifically DID NOT vote in Goose Goslin, any argument comparing his numbers with Rice’s (Paul points out that they are similar) is entirely backward. Goslin’s numbers weren’t good enough for the writers. So what’s the point?

There are 10 left fielders who were voted in by the writers (I will keep in Winfield and Stargell if only because they are Rice contemporaries). The 10 left fielders voted in by the writers are Brock, Kiner, Medwick, Musial, Simmons, Stargell, Billy Williams, Ted Williams, Winfield and Yaz.

Comparing the median numbers of these 10 with Rice doesn’t look quite as good:

AVG: HOF, .292; Rice, .298.
OBP: HOF, .371; Rice, .354.
SLG: HOF, .517, Rice, .502
OPS: HOF, .888, Rice, .854
HR: HOF 439; Rice, 382
OPS+: HOF 133, Rice 129.

And if you want to go with Baseball Prospectus’ translated stats – which are OUT there by the way; they translate Stan Musial to get 730 career homers – it doesn’t get much better for Rice.

AVG: HOF .299; Rice, .293
OBP: HOF, .369; Rice, .354
SLG: HOF, 560, Rice, .545
OPS: HOF, .919, Rice, .899
HR: HOF 575, Rice, 494

And if you just want to neutralize their stats on Baseball Reference, the gap in slugging percentage closes, but everything else is about the same:

AVG: HOF, 298; Rice, .298
OBP: .HOF, 370; Rice, .351
SLG: HOF, .500; Rice, .500
OPS: HOF, .869; Rice, .851
HR: HOF 453; Rice 390

To further the point, all 10 of the writers-choice left fielders were ranked way above Rice in the Bill James Historical Abstract (Winfield was ranked as a right fielder, but he still ranked much higher). That's only one opinion (though it's a pretty good one), but I simply don’t think Rice was better than any of those 10. Maybe you could argue against Brock, though they were very different kinds of players. Maybe you want to get into the Billy Williams vs. Jim Rice debate. In any case, it seems to me quite clear that using the writer’s 10 left fielders as the standard, Rice does not cut it.

Now, let me also say this. I think the writers WILL vote Jim Rice into the Hall of Fame. Momentum is pushing him to Cooperstown. We writers as a group are of that age, we feel that certain nostalgia for the time period, and Rice in memory was a fearsome hitter. The steroids thing has helped him too … how many columns or articles have you read already that gush how Rice hit homers when men were men, when strike zones were real, when bats were made of balsa wood and whatever? I’m not even saying that Rice going into the Hall of Fame is a bad thing … I mean, no, I’m not voting for him, but Rice was a terrific player and a fearsome hitter. He would not be anywhere near the worst player in the Hall – he wouldn’t even be on the “20 man throw-them-out” ballot that I want to create. Which I suppose is Paul’s main point.

But I’m saying the exact opposite of Paul’s argument is true. If we as writers use our own standards set through the years, we absolutely would not vote for Jim Rice.

I love this ...

We were trying to talk the other day about decency and sportsmanship (we might have chosen a better example than Michael Moore, but hey, we take our blog inspiration where it comes), and a brilliant reader named Jeff left this comment, which I thought deserved full attention.

I'm around your age, when I was a kid, I was a good baseball player in a small town that took baseball seriously. I was the sort of kid who always made the all star team, but rarely got to actually play in the all star games (now that I think about it, sort of like the Royals representative).

Well, when I was 10, I made the all star team again, and the coach was the only really good coach in the league. He apparently took a shine to my particular brand of tiny person hustle and defense, so I got to start at 2b and bat 8th or 9th. This coach was a good human being by all accounts...the sort of coach who didn't put up with bullying and offered many words of encouragement, I still admire him. But one game, I was at bat (nervous as all hell) with runners on in a tight game, and a pitch came right at me...I fell/jumped/ducked/evaded. The umpire said "take your base" but I turned to him and said "the ball didn't hit me." The umpire ruled it was a ball and I had to step back into the box (I ended up walking).

Later, after the game, the coach sat me down and lectured me about how wrong I was to tell the umpire the ball didn't hit me. I spoke to my parents about this, and my mother praised my honesty. My dad looked a bit dubious, but stood by my mother.

I'm a 35 year old lawyer now, and I still think about this incident often. I'm proud of what I did, and I'm proud that my parents supported me. There isn't any championship worth winning if you have to avoid your own reflection in the morning.

I asked a good friend about this ... he has a son just entering that Little League age. He's likely to coach his son's teams forever, so I asked him what he thought about this. He immediately said: "The kid's right." I think so too, but I suspect a large minority -- perhaps even a majority -- of youth coaches would have at least felt like the coach in this story. It is so bred in us as to get every edge. Then I asked my friend if he thought that he might someday feel the way the coach felt.

He said -- and I believe this is the most honest answer imaginable -- "I hope not."