Who Were They?

Matt Bruce

Wally Backman hit 10 home runs in a 13-year career. Damaso Garcia drew 130 walks over 12 seasons. Steve Lombardozzi lasted just six seasons in the majors, yet he won a championship ring the year he hit .238/.298/.352. This table doesn't include any of them but does consist of players from their position and era.

Player	Years	Games	AB	Runs	Hits	RBI	BB	SO	AVG	OBP	SLG
A	16	1891	7244	1104	2177	981	753	1006	.301	.366	.418
B	17	1801	6189	726	1696	568	383	501	.274	.319	.351
C	17	2008	6890	1033	1833	864	1087	1278	.266	.371	.424
D	18	2202	8018	1239	2210	687	1243	675	.276	.373	.351
E	16	2164	8385	1318	2386	1061	761	1260	.285	.344	.452
F	14	1769	6940	913	1949	550	556	584	.281	.335	.358
G	14	1124	3769	561	1046	405	414	735	.278	.353	.409
H	19	2390	8570	1386	2369	1084	1197	1099	.276	.363	.426
I	18	2324	7859	912	2006	886	412	1035	.255	.293	.383

Okay, that last sentence is not quite true. Player G, who is still active, made his debut in 1987, a year after Player C's final season. The rest peaked during the Reagan Era, though I was startled to remember Player A's brief, ineffective 1999 comeback attempt.

Like Geraldine Ferraro and Lloyd Bentsen, these guys are all known for playing second fiddle in the 1980s. I put them in alphabetical order and I used bread-and-butter statistics, the kind people are used to seeing in a box score. Bill Doran, Tommy Herr, and Robbie Thompson all narrowly missed my list: There was no explicit cutoff, but those were the guys who didn't hang around quite long enough.

If you hadn't already guessed, there's a Hall of Fame angle to this comparison. (When people bring up career stats, isn't that what it's always about?) One of these guys is a lock to make it shortly after he makes the ballot, but since I left off the home run column, could you really have found the Ryno in the underbrush if you didn't know they were alphabetized?

Two of these guys are among the most underrated players of the last few decades. Player C fell off the Hall of Fame ballot quickly for lack of votes, while Player H gets his first chance this year. Since three of the other guys were all Yankees at some point, you'd think more fans would overrate them enough to try to make a case.

Longevity aside, none of these statistics are impressive in absolute terms. But keep in mind that second base is a tougher position to play than, say, a corner outfield spot. Also, offenses have improved a great deal since the days of fruit roll-ups and Izod shirts.

Some sort of benchmark is useful for comparison. This is exactly why I threw in Player B, also known as Jim Gantner. Consistently one of baseball's most mediocre players, Gantner spent his entire career in Milwaukee. At age 30 he had his most productive season, with 23 doubles, eight triples, 11 homers and 74 RBI. Otherwise, his career OBP (including no season higher than .336) tells the story. There's a reason, related to talent evaluation and low expectations, why the Brewers have never won a title.

Gantner at least had the 1982 World Series, not to mention ending his career with a Cinderella pennant race in 1992. Player A's playoff experience consists entirely of one Division Series. Julio Franco, take a bow. By now there's no chance Reagan will ever learn how to pronounce your name (remember the 1989 All Star game?), yet your .301 career average might impress just enough voters to keep you on the ballot for awhile.

The comparison between Julio Franco and Bobby Grich neatly captures the difference in philosophy between traditional baseball analysis and the more recent stathead paradigm. In 100 fewer games, Franco managed 300 more hits, 100 more RBI, 70 more runs scored, and a 30-point lead in career batting average. Yet, by OPS, Grich gets the edge.

With all the unconverted fans out there, including some smart people who happen to be skeptics, the challenge to statheads is to explain, clearly and simply, just why it is that we think a guy like Grich is better. Without looking it up, I imagine that Grich has the better Equivalent Average and VORP, but is there a way to make the case more plainly than by using formulae that the stubborn people will just dismiss?

Part of Grich's appeal involves defense, especially in a comparison with Franco. One of the standard-bearers for second base defense is Frank White, Player I in the table. Between his glove and his post-season experience, White still has an outstanding reputation among those who remember him. Too bad his offense was so forgettable.

The 1977 and '78 ALCS actually featured two good young second basemen. Willie Randolph was 22 years old in 1977, but already in his third straight playoffs (he came up with the Pirates in 1975). One can infer that Randolph had, or very quickly learned, a lot of poise. His walk-to-strikeout ratio is especially eye-popping, while it was his discerning eye at the plate (or if you prefer, his reputation) that led Roger Clemens to lose his cool in the 1990 ALCS.

Randolph was in Oakland (and fast on his way to becoming a journeyman) in 1990. Before that, he batted just behind Rickey Henderson on some very good Yankee teams that never made the playoffs. With those two table-setters, how does a team fail to thrive offensively? For that matter, why are Yankee fans so hot to see Don Mattingly make the Hall after a lack of ground swell for Randolph? Sadly, the two questions might be related.

Ask a Yankee fan my age about second basemen and see if Steve Sax (Player F) comes up. Sax was a longtime Dodger before he and Randolph switched places. He was a mediocre hitter and a worse fielder, whose reputation today rests on his throwing problems, his luck of playing in large markets, and his appearance on that episode of The Simpsons. He also fell just 51 hits shy of 2000, and was just 34 years old in his final season six years ago. Just think how overrated he could have become if he were still active to this day.

Player G's career is almost the extension of Sax's, as though the two traded bodies. Similar age (38), similar numbers, even similar defense. Compared to Sax, Randy Velarde got a late start, broke in as a bench player, and missed the 1997 season to injury. The fact that Velarde played predominantly in the offense-inflated '90s is all the more reason for his stats to make a Ranger fan weep. (This just in: Texas signed Andres Galarraga. Not that they didn't already have Rafael Palmeiro incumbent and Carlos Pena on the farm. What does Doug Melvin know that I don't?)

Well, I'm already hitting up against a word limit, and still no time to discuss Sweet Lou Whitaker (Player H) on his own merits. There are some very good reasons to put him on your ballot, yet the best prediction is that he won't make it and won't come close. With apologies to Ryne Sandberg's (Player F) fans, Whitaker is the best hitter in my table, yet he didn't play in a media hotbed. His best stats were the ones the writers don't look at enough.

Later this winter I'll discuss the best active second basemen, and how the otherworldly stats of a Craig Biggio or a Robbie Alomar can (or should) affect the voting on guys like Whitaker and Franco. For historical perspective I urge you to check out Joe Morgan and Bill Mazeroski. Morgan will happily tell you how good he used to be, but Maz is the one that intelligent fans should tout. As unjust as it would be to see Whitaker fall off the ballot this year, Maz's longtime absence from the Hall is all the greater.

about the author

Matt Bruce still wonders why Pete Incaviglia wasn't all he was cracked up to be. Suggest it might have been the David Wells diet tips at mb@strikethree.com.