Greatest Pitchers Versus the Home Run

The Home Run Average (aka The "Kiss It Goodbye" Average)
copyright c 1998 by Evan Pritchard

In Sondheim’s classic musical-drama “Into the Woods,” we are treated to myths, fairy tales, and legends of Europe, pretty much intact, but all mixed together, as if all the characters were neighbors. That’s the first act. In the second act, he shows you the other side of heroism, the stories of the slain giants and their bereaved families, the shattered lives of banished witches, the low self esteem of defeated villains. It was a lesson in mytho-ecology. In the same way, we can’t just talk about the great heroic home run hitters, we have to pause and reflect on the shattered lives of the pitchers these blasts were launched off of, their wrecked ERA,s, their broken self-esteem.

At the same time, we can see that the mythic stature of a home run cannot be fully calculated without assessing the true anti-home run stature of the pitcher, and the amount of damage done to that pitcher’s reputation by the blast. While talking with my son David about the significance of the home run in baseball history, it became clear to me that mythobasebologically speaking, one of the most important questions we must ask in assessing the heroic quality of a home run is basically “who threw it?”

To use an analogy, if I tell you I won a boxing match in a knock out, you would be somewhat impressed, if you like boxing. If, however, I then told you that my opponent was an eighty-two year old grandmother, you might not only be less impressed, you might be very upset with me, especially if it was your grandma. However, if I told you my opponent was Mike Tyson, you would be all the more impressed with my victory. The same thing goes for chess. If I win a chess game, you may say, “good for you,” and then ask, ‘Who did you defeat?” If I say, “Oh, some guy named Boris Spaskey,” you would be very impressed. That guy is good. He seldom loses. If I say, “my babysitter’s kid brother’s friend,” you might wonder how good he could possibly be.

In the average pitcher-slugger confrontation, most of the people in the stands have no idea whether the pitcher standing on the mound is a gopher-ball magnet or a long-ball terminator. When the player hits a magnificent home run and rounds the bases, we don’t know if this is an unusual state of affairs for that pitcher, or the same-old story. Therefore, most of us never know the true greatness of a particular home run, because we don’t know what odds the batter was up against.

Oh, occasionally you find an astute announcer on the radio who can tell you stats on the pitcher, like “This lefty has only given up ten home runs so far this season,” but often don’t tell you how many innings, or even how many starts. You have to guess.

Without the help of such an announcer, you may foolishly assume that all good pitchers give up few home runs, whereas bad ones give them up all the time, but nothing could be further from the truth. Even a pitcher’s ERA is no basis for prediction. For example, Sandy Koufax won a lot of games, and had a great ERA, but gave up an average of just under .8 home runs per nine innings pitched. That means that after ten complete games, he would have given up eight homers in that same stretch, on the average.

A pitcher named J.R. Richard had a home run average of about half that from 1971 to 1980. Why? Maybe Koufax’s fastball was so lively that anyone who connected with it solidly was likely to give it a good ride. So when Mickey Mantle hit a home run off of Koufax in the 1963 series, you have to take that into consideration. It wasn’t as impossible as people think. But a home run off of J.R. Richard, that’s something to brag about! However in all his years at Houston, J.R. never got into a World Series, and therefore never achieved the superstar status of a Koufax. Another reason why you don’t hear much about J.R. Richard was that he walked people. He led the league in walks in 1975, 1976 and 1978. In 1976, he threw a career high of 151 bases on balls. (Koufax gave up over 100 walks only once in his career. Koufax’s base on balls average was 3.16 per nine innings, not a bad mark, whereas J.R. Richard’s was 4.31. Getting a walk off of Koufax was something to brag about.)

Every statistic has its magic number, 40 homers, .300 batting average, 3.0 ERA, 30 stolen bases. These are the championship level marks that potential hall of famers shoot for. There are usually no more than ten guys in each league, depending on the liveliness of the ball, who achieve these golden benchmarks during the course of one season. What is the golden benchmark for home run average? An easy-to-remember number would be .500 HRA. In the old days, a league would produce a handful of these wonder boys, but nowadays, I don’t think there are ever more than ten guys in a league who pitch under .750 for the season. Therefore, I have included on this list only those who have bested this mark, with the exception of Koufax, for comparison. He just missed.

Greg Maddux is a great pitcher against sluggers. His HRA to 1997 was only .513 lifetime. That means that he only gave up one home run per two complete games pitched, on the average. But if you know baseball, you probably figured something like that. He’s a great pitcher in all categories.

But some of the great giant slayers of the mound, those with shockingly low HRA’s are people you don’t always hear about. A guy named Bruce Berenyi maintained a terrific HRA of .369 between 1980 and 1986, but had a dismal won-loss average of 44 and 55 in spite of all that. I know how he must have felt.

Some low HRA pitchers don’t last very long, for some reason. Joe Berry had a lovely .428 HRA but only pitched 294 innings before being kicked out of the bigs for good. Ernie Camacho had a .645 HRA in the 1980’s but only lasted 262 innings in the majors. Bob McGraw pitched in the 1920s with a .482 HRA but only pitched 579 innings. Mickey Haefner earned a sparkling .467 HRA but only pitched 76 innings over a span of 17 years. All under .500, all destined for oblivion.


The only way to know how tough a given pitcher is on home run hitters is to do the math. The information you need is right in the baseball encyclopedia, or in his season stats. (Note: Some baseball encyclopedias don’t list the number of homers allowed, some do). You take the number of home runs he gave up, then divide it by the number of innings he pitched during the period in question, then multiply times nine. My whiney-butt kid figured out how to do it at 12 years old, that’s how come I know to tell you. You can use the same formula to figure out walks per nine innings, earned runs per nine innings, strike outs per nine innings, or the average number of times he scratched himself per nine inning game if you like. All you need is that data.

The thing that messes up the beauty of the HRA, or “home run average” is that baseball goes through “home run eras,” and “home run droughts.” There were so few home runs hit before 1920, that even bad pitchers walk away without a scratch in terms of their HRA, but pitchers who begin after 1930 have HRA’s comparable to the 1980s. The 1960’s were also a low point for homers, and so the pitchers HRAs dip slightly. As you may realize, the generation of home runs skyrocketed after 1997, and pitcher’s HRAs went through the roof, or sky high, or out of sight, depending on your style of lingo.

Early pitchers who were nearly impossible to hit home runs off of include Chief Bender, the A’s Ojibway pitching star who maintained a lifetime HRA of only .119 between 1913 and 1925, great even for his era. His main competitor, Christy Matthewson could only manage .192. Another impressive stat comes from, not surprisingly, Cy Young. He gave up only .168 homers per nine inning game.

Babe Ruth pitched 1221 innings and gave up only 10 home runs lifetime, leaving him with an unbelievable .074 HRA before retiring to the outfield. On good days, the Yankees could hit that many in a single game. Gorgeous George Sisler, who like Babe Ruth switched from pitching to fielding in order to hit more homers, did even better. He never gave up a single home run in his 111 innings. He was also a better base stealer than his rival from New York.

The roaring 20’s were kind of funny. Some pitchers pitched as if they didn’t know the homer had arrived, and some gave them away as if they were going out of style. Bobby Burke pitched from 1927 to 1937 and gave up only 35 homers, for an HRA of .343. Kent Greenfield, a name you don’t hear that much any more, gave up only 36 dingers between 1924 and 1929, keeping a .418 HRA pace. Milt Gaston kept a .487 HRA from 1924 to 1934. Kurt Fullerton gave up only 19 homers between 1921 and 1939, with a .404 HRA. But some of those Roaring Twenties guys were unhittable when it came to long balls, especially those who got started before 1920. Of course, they had an unfair statistical advantage, pitching in the homerless teens. Try these HRAs on for size: Stan Coveleski 1912-28, .192 HRA, Wilbur Cooper 1912-26, .266 HRA, Sarge Connally 1921-34, .290 HRA, Rip Collins 1921-31, .384 HRA, Hal Carlson 1917-30, .328 HRA. Red Faber 1914-33, .244 HRA, Howard Ehmke 1915-1930, .329 HRA, Pete Donohue, 1921-32 .290 HRA, Bill Doak 1912-1929, .230 HRA, Burleigh Grimes, 1916-34, .318 HRA. Earl Hamilton 1911-24, .165 HRA, Jesse Haines 1918-37 .413 HRA, Sam Jones 1914-1935 .352 HRA. These are amazing stats compared to today, but were merely excellent in their day, when home run fences were so far away from home plate, you needed binoculars to see the fans behind center field.

Not too surprisingly, one of the greatest anti-home run weapons of the teens and twenties was Walter Johnson of the Washington Senators. From 1907 to 1927, a period spanning three decades, he only gave up 97 home runs and kept an HRA of .148.

In the 1930’s some pitchers did very well, while others got bombed. It wasn’t unheard of for a pitcher’s HRA to be over 1.00 per complete game. But Clay Bryant who pitched from 1935 to 1940 kept his HRA down to .215. Mace Three Finger Brown kept his down to .368, while Lloyd Brown kept his HRA in the fridge, with a .441 ERA. Dizzy Dean had an HRA of only .434. Al Hollingsworth pitched from 1935 to 1946, a time of a big home run boom, but only had a .278 HRA nonetheless! Waite Hoyt was great insurance against a home run, and only gave up 154 between 1918 and 1938 for a .368 HRA. The great Lefty Gomez, who pitched from 1930 to 1943, had an HRA of .496. Other great pitchers of the thirties include Larry French (.468) Fred Frankhouse (.529), Wes Ferrell (.503), George Earnshaw (.667), Bill Dietrich (.575), Paul Derringer (.390) Curt Davis (.550) Alvin Crowder (.522) Dick Coffman (.567), Watty Clark (.443), Joe Cascarella (.417) and Ben Cantwell (.528). Again, great pitchers don’t always have the lock on ground balls. Carl Hubbell was one of the best pitchers of the thirties, and struck out Ruth, Gehrig and Foxx in the 1934 All Star game, but from 1928 to 1943 he gave up 227 homers. It left him with a respectable .569 HRA at the end of his long career, which was not amazing, but respectable for those days.

Many of the most famous home run balls were hit off of the toughest pitchers HRA-wise. Guy Bush, who is famous for giving Babe Ruth three fat gopher balls in Ruth’s last game on this earth, was actually a master in preventing the long ball most of the time. He gave up only 149 other homers lifetime, and maintained a .503 HRA. Charlie Root, one of the other pitchers that Ruth made immortal with a kiss of the bat, held a .526 HRA lifetime. He was the one that Ruth hit his “called shot” off of in the World Series versus the Cubs. Claude Passeau gave up a famous homer to Ted Williams in the All Star game, in spite of his .348 HRA. Tom Zachary was yet another Ruth made immortal with a swing of the bat, his famed 60th homer, yet Zachary rarely gave up homers, with a stunning .342 lifetime HRA at the height of the home run era. Part of the reason was that soon after that historic 60th shot, he joined the Yankees for several seaons, which meant he never had to pitch to the best home run hitters--who were all Yankees, during that stint. Clever strategy!

Nowhere have I found a published listing of lifetime HRAs to help baseball fans gain a true understanding of what a truly great home run would be. I thought this book might be a good vehicle for carrying such a useful table, and perhaps introducing a new stat into the Hall of Fame. Ideally, there should be three versions; one by pitcher’s name alphabetically, one by HRA numerically, and one by chronology. This will have to do for the moment.

The Hall of Fame of Home Run Average

This is an alphabetical listing of only the best, the toughest pitchers to hit homers off of. Each of these players maintained less than a .750 HRA per nine innings, lifetime. Each pitched more than 500 innings (with several exceptions), and each started playing in this century. As a matter of fact, except for Walter Johnson, each started playing after 1910, when home runs started to mean something. These statistics only extend to 1997 for active players; some of these players’ HRAs have gone down since then, some stayed the same, but most have gone way up, due to the juicing up of the ball. Those are the criteria for this top HRA pitchers’ list. Many big name players are not on this list because they gave up too many home runs.



Player Name Seasons Home runs Innings HRA

Aase, Don 77-90 89 1109 .722
Abernathy, Ted 55-72 70 1147 .549
Alexander, Pete 11-30 164 5190 .284
Allen, Johnny 32-44 104 1950 .480
Anderson, Larry 75-94 58 995 .525
Andrews, Ivy 31-38 59 1041 .510
Andrews, Nate 37-46 40 773 .466
Andujar, Joaquin 76-88 155 2153 .648
Appleton, Pete 27-45 76 1141 .599
Aquino, Luis 86-95 45 678 .597
Assenmacher, Paul 86-96 57 726 .706
Auker, Elden 33-42 129 1963 .591
Bagby, Jim 38-47 98 1666 .529
Barber, Steve 60-74 125 1999 .781
Barker, Len 76-87 96 1323 .653
Barlow, Mike 75-81 16 246 .585
Barnes, Jesse 15-27 88 2569 .308
Barnes, Virgil 19-28 46 1094 .380
Barr, Jim 71-83 161 2065 .702
Barnett, Red 37-49 78 1263 .556
Beattie, Jim 78-86 88 1148 .690
Beck, Boom Boom 24-45 63 1034 .548
Bell, Hi 24-34 34 663 .507
Bender, “Chief” Charles 13-25 40 3017 .119
Benton, Al 34-52 106 1688 .565
Benton, Larry 23-35 109 2297 .427
Berenyi, Bruce 80-86 32 781 .369
Berge, Ray 25-38 132 1875 .633
Berry, Joe 42-46 14 294 .428
Bibby, Jim 72-84 131 1722 .684
Bickford, Vern 48-54 76 1076 .636
Billingham, Jack 68-80 176 2230 .710
Blackwell, Ewall 42-55 67 1321 .456
Blankenship, Ted 22-30 63 1330 .426
Blanton, Cy 34-42 64 1218 .473
Blass, Steve 64-74 128 1597 .721
Blue, Vida 69-86 263 3343 .708
Bonham, Bill 71-80 98 1487 .593
Bonham, Tiny 40-49 117 1551 .679
Borbon, Pedro 69-80 63 1026 .553
Borowy, Hank 42-51 108 1717 .566
Bowman, Joe 32-45 102 1465 .627
Brandt, Ed 28-38 134 2268 .532
Braxton, Garland 21-33 38 938 .365
Brecheen, Harry 40-53 117 1907 .552
Bridge, Tommy 30-46 181 2826 .576
Briles, Nelson 65-78 186 2111 .793
Brown, Clint 28-42 84 1485 .509
Brown, Kevin 86-02 178 2840 .564
Brown, Lloyd 25-40 83 1693 .441
Brown, Mace 35-46 44 1075 .368
Brown, Mordecai 3 finger 03-16 43 3172.3 .121
Brusstar, Warren 77-85 28 484 .573
Bryant, Clay 35-40 13 543 .215
Burdette, Lew 50-67 289 3067 .848
Burke, Bobby 27-37 35 918 .343
Burkhart, Ken 45-49 35 519 .607
Bush, Guy 23-45 152 2722 .503
Bush, Joe 12-28 96 3087 .280
Bush, Steve 72-80 73 1060 .620
Butcher, Max 36-45 100 1786 .503
Buzhardt, John 58-68 130 1490 .785
Byrne, Tommy 43-57 98 1362 .647
Byerly, Bud 43-60 34 491 .623
Campbell, Bill 73-87 82 1229 .600
Camacho, Ernie 80-90 16 262 .645
Cantwell, Ben 27-37 90 1534 .528
Carlson, Hal 17-30 43 2002 .328
Carlton, Steve 65-88 414 5217 .714
Carrasquel, Alex 39-49 42 861 .439
Carroll, Clay 64-78 67 1353 .446
Cascarella, Joe 34-38 25 540 .417
Casey, Hugh 35-49 58 939 .556
Caster, George 34-46 121 1377 .791
Chance, Dean 61-71 122 2147 .511
Chandler, Spud 37-47 64 1485 .388
Chapman, Ben 44-46 7 141 .447
Chase, Ken 36-43 55 1165 .424
Christopher, Russ 42-48 38 999 .342
Clark, Watty 24-37 86 1747 .443
Clements, Pat 85-92 17 360 .425
Clemens, Roger 84-02 297 4067 .657
Coffman, Dick 27-45 92 1460 .567
Collins, Rip 20-31 73 1712 .384
Cone, David 86-01 254 2880.6 .794
Connally, Sarge 21-34 32 994 .290
Consegra, Sandy 50-57 43 809 .480
Cooper, Wilbur 12-26 103 3480 .266
Cooper, Mort 38-49 85 1840 .416
Coveleski, Stan 12-28 66 3082 .192
Crowder, Alvin 26-36 136 2344 .522
Cuellar, Mike 59-77 222 2808 .711
Culver, George 66-74 42 789 .479
DalCantor, Bruce 67-77 48 931 .464
Davis, Curt 34-46 142 2325 .550
Davis, Storm 82-94 136 1780 .688
Dean, Dizzy 30-47 95 1967 .434
DeLeon, Jose 83-95 153 1897 .726
Denny, John 74-86 137 2148 .574
Derringer, Paul 31-45 158 3645 .390
Dierker, Larry 64-77 184 2333 .710
Dietrich, Bill 33-48 128 2003 .575
Doak, Bill 12-29 71 2782 .230
Donohue, Pete 21-32 68 2112 .290
Dorish, Harry 47-56 57 834 .615
Downing, Al 61-77 177 2268 .702
Drabek, Doug 86-96 196 2257 .749
Drago, Dick 69-81 157 1875 .754
Drysdale, Don 56-69 280 3432 .734
Earnshaw, George 28-36 142 1915 .667
Ehmke, Howard 15-30 103 2820 .329
Eichhorn, Mark 82-96 49 885 .498
Elliott, Jumbo 23-34 70 1206 .522
Ellis, Dock 68-79 140 2127 .592
Ellsworth, Dick 58-71 194 2155 .810
Erickson, Paul 41-48 41 814 .453
Faber, Red 14-33 111 4086 .244
Feller, Bob 36-56 224 3827 .527
Ferrell, Wes 27-41 132 2623 .503
Fidriych, Mark 76-80 23 412 .502
Figueroa, Ed 74-81 90 1309 .619
Fingers, Rollie 68-85 123 1701.3 .651
Fitzsimmons, Freddie 25-43 186 3223 .519
Ford, Whitey 50-67 228 3170 .647
Forsch, Ken 70-86 155 2127 .656
Forster, Terry 71-86 51 1105 .415
Fowler, Dick 41-52 96 1303 .691
Fox, Howie 44-54 71 1108 .576
Frankhouse, Fred 27-39 111 1888 .529
Franco, John 84-02 70 1150.3 .547
French, Larry 29-42 164 3152 .468
Friend, Bob 51-66 286 3611 .713
Fryman, Woody 66-83 87 2411 .698
Fullerton, Curt 21-39 19 423 .404
Galehouse, Denny 34-49 104 2004 .467
Garcia, Mike 48-61 122 2174 .505
Gaston, Milt 24-34 114 2105 .487
Genewich, Joe 22-30 77 1401 .495
Gentry, Rufe 43-48 11 243 .407
Gibbon, Joe 60-72 74 1119 .322
Gibson, Bob 59-75 257 3884 .596
Gladding, Fred 61-73 38 601 .569
Giusti, Dave 62-77 126 1716 .661
Glavine, Tom 87-02 247 3344 .665
Goltz, Dave 72-83 149 2039 .658
Gomez, Lefty 30-43 138 2503 .496
Gooden, Dwight 84-01 210 2800.7 .675
Gossage, Rich 72-94 119 1809.3 .592.
Gorska, Johnny 40-47 44 723 .548
Greenfield, Kent 24-29 36 775 .418
Gregg, Hal 43-52 41 827 .446
Grimes, Burleigh 16-34 148 4179 .318
Grove, Lefty 25-41 162 3940 .370
Gubicza, Mark 84-96 153 2218 .621
Hadley, Bump 26-41 167 2945 .510
Haefner, Mickey 43-50 76 1466 .467
Haines, Jesse 18-37 165 3208 .463
Hallahan, Bill 25-38 71 1740 .367
Hamilton, Earl 11-24 43 2342 .165
Harder, Mel 28-47 161 3426 .422
Hargan, Steve 65-77 125 1632 .689
Harris, Mickey 40-52 79 1050 .677
Hassler, Andy 71-85 67 1123 .537
Haynes, Joe 39-52 95 1581 .541
Heintzelman, ken 37-52 100 1501 .600
Henke, Tom 82-95 64 789.7 .730
Henneman, Mike 87-96 47 732 .578
Hernandez, Roberto 91-02 62 775 .720
Hershieser, Orel 83-96 168 2529 .633
Heusser, Ed 35-48 66 1087 .607
Hering, Joe 30-45 64 1038 .555
Hildebrand, Oral 31-40 99 1430 .623
Higbe, Kirby 37-50 117 1952 .539
Hollingsworth, Al 35-46 47 1520 .278
Honeycutt, Rick 77-96 185 2158 .772
Horlen, Joe 61-72 145 2002 .652
Hooton, Burt 71-85 193 2656 .655
Hoyt, Waite 18-35 154 3762 .368
Hudson, Sid 40-54 136 2181 .561
Hubbell, Carl 28-43 227 3590 .569
Hudlin, Willis 26-44 118 2613 .406
Hume, Tom 77-87 88 1086 .729
Humphries, Johnny 38-46 50 1002 .449
Jackson, Larry 55-68 259 3262 .715
John, Tommy 63-89 302 4710.1 .577
Johnson, Si 28-47 120 2281 .473
Johnson, Walter 07-27 97 5914 .148
Jones, Doug 82-96 49 785 .562
Jones, Randy 73-82 129 1933 .600
Jones, Sam 14-35 152 3883 .352
Judd, Oscar 41-48 24 771 .280
Kern, Jim 74-86 35 793 .397
Knowles, Darold 65-80 65 1092 .536
Koosman, Jerry 67-85 290 3839 .680
Koufax, Sandy 55-66 204 2324 .790
Lamp, Dennis 77-92 122 1830.2 .600
Leibrandt, Charlie 79-93 172 2308 .671
Leiter, Al 87-02 154 1894.3 .732
Lemon, Bob 46-58 181 2850 .572
Leonard, Dutch 33-53 158 3218 .442
Lopat, Ed 44-55 179 2439 .661
Lucas, Red 23-38 136 2542 .482
Lyle, Sparky 67-82 84 1390 .544
MacFayden, Danny 26-43 112 2706 .333
Marshall, Mike 67-81 79 1386 .513
Martinez, Tippy 74-86 53 834 .572
Maddux, Greg 86-02 210 3750.3 .504 .
Marquard, Rube 08-25 107 3306 .291
Martinez, Pedro 92-02 142 1892.3 .675
Matthewson, Christy 00-16 91 4780 .192
Matlack, John 71-83 161 2363 .613
Mays, Carl 15-27 73 3021 .217
McDaniel, Lindy 55-75 172 2138 .379
McGinnity, Joe 99-08 52 3441 .136
McGraw, Bob 17-29 31 579 .482
Mc Dowell, Roger 85-96 50 1050 .428
McGraw, Tug 65-84 108 1514 .642
Messersmith, Andy 68-79 174 2230 .702
Miller, Bob 57-74 101 1551 .586
Mogridge, George 11-27 77 2265 .305
Murray, Dale 74-85 40 902 .399
Myers, Randy 85-98 64 884.7 .702
Nen, Robb 93-02 51 715 .641
Newsome, Bobo 29-53 206 3759 .493
Nichols, Kid 90-06 156 5056 .278
Niekro, Joe 67-87 276 3584 .693
Niekro, Phil 64-87 442 5404.3 .736
Orosco, Jesse 74-02 109 1261.3 .777
Osteen, Claude 57-75 249 3460 .648
Palmer, Jim 65-84 303 3948 .691
Passeau, Claude 35-47 105 2719 .348
Pena, Alejandro 81-96 75 1057.2 .638
Pennock, Herb 12-34 128 3571 .323
Perranowski, Ron 61-73 50 1174 .383
Perry, Gaylord 62-83 399 5350 .671
Peterson, Fritz 66-76 173 2218 .702
Phillippe, Deacon 1899-11 41 2607 .392
Plank, Eddie 01-17 41 4495.7 .082
Quisenberry, Dan 79-90 59 1043.3 .508
Reed, Ron 66-84 182 2477 .661
Reynolds, Allie 42-54 133 2492 .480
Richard, J.R. 71-80 73 1606 .409
Righetti, Dave 79-95 95 1403 .609
Rijo, Jose 84-02 147 1880 .703
Ring, Jimmy 17-28 104 2354 .398
Rivera, Mariano 95-02 34 597 .528
Rixey, Eppa 12-33 92 4494 .184
Root, Charlie 23-41 187 3197 .526
Rowe, Schoolboy 33-49 132 2219 .535
Ruffing, Red 24-47 254 4344 .526
Ruth, Babe 14-33 10 1221 .074
Ruthven, Dick 73-86 165 2109 .704
Ryan, Nolan 66-93 321 5386 .536.
Saberhagen, Bret 84-95 33 881 .337
Sain, Johnny 42-55 180 2125 .762
Seaver, Tom 67-86 380 4782 .715
Sewell, Rip 32-49 116 2119 .492
Shantz, Bobby 49-64 151 1935 .702
Simmons, Curt 47-67 255 3348 .685
Sisler, George 15-28 0 111 .000
Smith, Lee 80-97 89 1289.3 .621
Smoltz, John 88-02 206 2553.6 .726
Spahn, Warren 42-65 434 5243 .745
Stanley, Bob 77-89 113 1707 .596
Stottlemeyer, Mel 64-74 171 2661 .578
Sutton, Don 66-88 470 5282 .800
Thomas, Tommy 26-37 144 2176 .596
Thompson, Junior 39-47 35 686 .459
Torrez, Mike 67-84 223 3044 .660
Trout, Dizzy 34-57 112 2725 .370
Trout, Steve 78-89 90 1501 .540
Uhle, George 19-36 119 3119 .343
Valenzuela, Fernando 80-97 226 2930 .694
Vance, Dazzy 15-35 132 2966 .400
Van Der Meer, Johnny 37-51 100 2104 .428
Vaughn, Hippo 08-21 39 2730 .129
Vuckovitch, Pete 75-86 107 1455 661
Walters, Bucky 31-50 154 3104 .447
Warneke, Lon 30-36/45 175 2782 .566
Weiland, Bob 28-40 85 1388 .551
Wilhelm Hoyt 52-72 150 2254 .599
Wise, Rick 64-82 261 3127 .751
Wood, Smokey Joe 08-20 10 1434 .0627
Wynn, Early 39-63 338 4564 .667
Young, Cy 1890-11 138 7356 .160
Zachary, Tom 18-36 119 3126 .342

And if you want to list them best to worst by Home Run Average, go ahead, be my guest!

Balance of Power in Baseball; Rich Team, Poor Team

The Invisible Hand of Baseball—
What Baseball Has to Say About Adam Smith’s Theory of Free Market Competition

When I was a kid growing up as a Senators’ fan in Washington, D.C. no one ever talked about the business of baseball. It wasn’t fashionable anywhere, but it certainly was the least fashionable in Washington. It was not a big baseball town by today’s standards, too many transient highly educated people. But even among baseball fans, the subject of baseball as business was never discussed, taboo even, because in fact baseball had no business in Washington. It was a patriotic gesture! The price of a baseball team was like the “cost of freedom;” All Americans should be willing to lay down our lives so that we can have baseball in the Nation’s Capitol. Like Democracy and the right to representation in Congress, there are certain inalienable rights. Since D.C. didn’t have either of these, it stands to reason they should at least have baseball, at any price. We were very warped in our values back then.

Then Nixon came, and our Constitutional right to baseball disappeared. It was part of the Watergate Scandal, in fact. Did you hear that E. Howard Hunt was seen in the Dallas-Fort Worth area, selling tickets months before the move of the team was announced? That rumor has never been confirmed or denied. But it was all very suspicious. We didn’t realize that the team could be bought and sold like..like a company or something! It seemed like slavery in those naïve by-gone days! Curt Flood, Don Lock, Ed Brinkman, Del Unser, on the trading block like slaves! Now we don’t think twice about it.

Today, the business of baseball is all people talk about. How many wins can 100 million dollars buy? Someone has a computer program to figure it out. If money buys wins, tell me why some teams pay a million dollars per win, some a half a million?

The principles mentioned in Adam Smith’s philosophical writings, especially the “invisible hand,” work in baseball regardless of economics. This is because there are many kinds of competition in baseball, and the kind we find on the field overrides all others.

While owners are busy competing with each others’ wallets, snipping off this player’s bonus, and that player’s raise, raising the price of parking, of cable TV, throwing money into pitching based on some formula for post-season success, the players themselves are busy competing on the field, where supposedly, money can’t buy wins, theoretically not even umpires. Games are still won by sweat, hard work and determination.

As long as players are free to compete in their hearts for the adoration of their fans, money will never guarantee success. Like happiness and love, there are certain things that money is always on the verge of being able to buy; but it never works out. Adam Smith wrote about the “Invisible Hand,” which, in my personal interpretation says that if all the different parties in a certain field are all free to compete with one another, there will be a healthy balance, and the strongest companies with the best products will thrive, to the benefit of all, whereas inefficient companies will do less well. Obviously, having a millionaire “backer” gives some companies the edge to get established; but according to Smith, that isn’t the most important factor.

The Smithian universe is not one of blind probability, but one of probability based on each human beings desire to succeed. Therefore, the standings in baseball should stay within a statistical boundary not likely according to blind probability. It should reflect a great overarching mythic principle of balance which Plato called Dikaion, or Universal Justice. In the early Vedas it is called Rta (pronounced err-tah) the underlying geometric blueprint behind all universal phenomenon, which evolved over time into the concept of Dharma, now a popular TV show. Then there were the Philadelphia teams of the early 20th Century, which were all over the map. Their results really did seem random.

Theoretically, if the invisible hand is allowed to move the players around by natural selection, there will never be a monopoly, and everyone will have a fair share. In a sense, baseball proves this principle. Even though the amount of money spent on teams has always varied greatly, with some teams (ie The Yankees) often spend three or four times the money other teams do (ie The Senators) the gap between wins and losses is never that great. Between 1910 and 1990, the gap between champions and last place teams in either league was seldom greater than .33% of the games played. This means that the best team seldom won more than 2/3 of their games, and the worst seldom lost more than 2/3. In another way of putting it, the best and worst in a league often were approximately the inverse of each other, but not more than a 2 to 1 ratio. In other words, season winners often average a win a three game series, but sweeps are balanced out by series match losses. This does not apply to football. There are too few games played; perhaps the checks and balances in football are less delicate. Baseball on the other hand, was forged long ago in Greek proportions.

For example, baseball writers now and then comment on the incredible beauty of the 90 foot distance to first base, truly a decision of genius. Given the diamond shape of the infield (with fielders stationed in an arc around the bases, roughly equidistant from the batter) most ground balls in the infield reach the fielder at about half or less the total time it takes the average professional athlete to run to first, which leaves the fielder the same amount of time to throw to first. That means that almost all plays are close at first. Even bunts can be picked up in that same amount of time by the pitcher or catcher. Only a few players in baseball history have been fast enough to upset this geometric balance between offense and defense, namely George Sisler, Ty Cobb, and for a while, Mickey Mantle. There have been few others who have overcome the principle of inertia which slows the runner coming out of the batter’s box as well, a principle baseball is designed to play with. Money can’t do that, only will power and determination.

There is a similar balance in most ballparks today between home runs and fly outs. Probably one ball out of four intended for the seats (or bullpen) actually makes it, the rest are caught on the warning track. During an average game at least twelve long balls (just to throw out a rough figure) out of an approximate 72 at bats, land in a narrow band between the front of the warning track and a space ten feet behind the wall, most of them in front of the wall. Therefore, most fly balls are unpredictable; with the bases loaded, and two out, will that fly be an out or four runs on the board? No one can tell, but the “invisible hand” principle says that sometimes it will be a grand slam, and for any given team. Again, only a few players have the muscle, the focus and will power to break through the laws of ballistics, in which the possible trajectories limit the distance of a hurled or batted object; Babe Ruth, Frank Howard, Mickey Mantle, Reggie Jackson, and Mark McGwire, for example, and now Barry Bonds. It’s harder than it looks, because the laws of gravity are very exact. What’s fun about baseball is that it plays with those laws. It is equally hard to throw from the warning track to home plate without a bounce, which is what makes the “tag up” rule so much fun. A good arm in the outfield versus an average runner, an average arm versus a slow runner, a great arm versus an excellent runner; it’s always going to be close, and therefore unpredictable.

This is one of the reasons why there is seldom a monopoly on wins: There are too many ways to lose. In a game of inches, even the best team in history will blow more than sixty games on their way to the pennant. When baseball teams played 156 games, seldom would a team win less than 52 games, 1/3 of the games, (.333) or more than 104, or 2/3rds. (.666). There have been occasional “losing” teams who for various reasons, threw the numbers out of whack for a few years, notably the Browns, (Boston and then St. Louis) and any team from Philadelphia. But overall the numbers are impressive. Let’s take a look.

National League: 1910
1911: Boston Braves .291, 44 wins
1913: St. Louis Cardinals .340, 51 wins (above .333; 150 games played)
1917: Pittsburgh Pirates .331, 41 wins

(In 1918, only 130 games were played, in 1919 only 137)

American League: 1910
1910: St. Louis Browns: .305 47 wins
1911: St. Louis Browns: .296 45 wins
1912: Boston Red Sox .691 105 wins (they won the Series)
New York Yankees .329 50 wins (borderline)
1914 Cleveland .333, 51 wins (borderline)
1915 Philadelphia .283 43 wins (the team had won the pennant the year before but ran into debt and sold off the entire team, leaving rookies)
1916 Philadelphia .235 36 wins (see above)
1919 Philadelphia .257 36 wins (see above)

National League: 1920s
(The Phils had a bad streak, throwing off the numbers, but they were generally close to .333)
1921: Philadelphia Phils . .331 51 wins
1923 Philadelphia Phils .325 50 wins
1927 Philadelphia Phils .331 51 wins
1928 Philadelphia Phils .283 43 wins

American League: 1920s
(The Red Sox owner traded away a number of their best players in order to invest in Broadway. It was a famous scandal at the time)
1920: Philadelphia A’s .312 48 wins (see above)
1925 Boston Red Sox .309 47 wins (see above)
1926 Boston Red Sox .301 46 wins (see above)
1927 Boston Red Sox .331 51 wins (see above)

National League: 1930s
1935 Boston Braves .248 38 wins
1938 Philadelphia Phils .300 45 wins
1939 Philadelphia Phils .298 45 wins

American League: 1930s
1931 Philadelphia A’s .704 107 wins
1932 New York Yankees .695 107 wins
1937 St. Louis Browns .299 46 wins
1939 New York Yankees .702 106 wins
St. Louis Browns .279 43 wins (one of the greatest discrepancies between losers and winners in the same league; the Browns lost five more games than the Yankees won, which was a lot of games!)

National League: 1940’s
1940 Philadelphia Phils .327 50 wins
1941 Philadelphia Phils .279 43 wins
1942 St. Louis Cardinals .688 106 wins
Philadelphia Phils .278 42 wins
1943 St. Louis Cardinals .682 105 wins
1944 St. Louis Cardinals .682 105 wins
1945 Philadelphia Phils .299 46 wins

American League 1940s
1942 New York Yankees .669 103 wins (154 games played)
1943 Philadelphia A’s .318 49 wins
1946 Philadelphia A’s .318 49 wins
1949 Washington Senators .325 50 wins (This was the only season the Senators fell back of the 1/3 mark)

National League 1950s
1952 Pittsburgh Pirates .273 42 wins
1953 Brooklyn Dodgers .682 105 wins
Pittsburgh Pirates .325 50 wins

American League 1950s
1952 Detroit Tigers .325 50 wins
1954 Cleveland Indians .721 111 wins
Philadelphia A’s .331 51 wins (borderline)

National League 1960s
1961 Philadelphia Phillies .305, 47 wins
1962 New York Mets .250 40 wins (120 losses, 160 games played; no one had ever lost that many before in a single seaon. But the Mets were famous for that!)
1963 New York Mets .315 50 wins
1964 New York Mets .327 53 wins
1965 New York Mets .309 50 wins
1969 Montreal Expos .321 52 wins
San Diego Padres .321 52 wins

American League 1960s
1961 New York Yankees .673, 109 wins
1969 Baltimore Orioles .673, 109 wins

National League 1970s
1975 Cincinnati .667 108 wins (borderline)

American League 1970s
1970 Baltimore .667, 108 wins
1979 Toronto Blue Jays .327 53 wins (the only team in the 1970s or 80s to end the season below .333, although the Oakland As bombed out at .333 and 54 wins in that same year.)

National League 1980s
1986 New York Mets .667 108 wins

American League 1980s

Detroit had 104 wins in 1984, as did the A’s in 1988, but that comes out to .642, not quite 2/3rds. In 1988 Baltimore had only 54 wins, which gave them a .335 win average. Very close!

56 “anomalies” in eighty seasons, 160 standings; both high and low. Ten of these involved New York teams, eighteen involved teams from Philadelphia. Including all teams, any league standings of any given year had a 35% chance of experiencing an anomaly, just over 1/3. In addition, no team has ever lost more than ¾ of their games, except the 1916 Athletics. (The Mets lost exact that fraction in 1962, but not more), and no team has ever won more than .721% of their games during that period, in other words, better than the Cleveland Indians of 1954. No team has ever reached the ¾ win mark either, the baseball equivalent of a monopoly.

What is remarkable is how New York, Philadelphia, and St. Louis, all cities with both American and National League teams most of this era, produce by far the most anomalies, both for most single season wins and losses.

Here’s how it stacks up:
New York Yankees: 1 losing 4 winning seasons out of the mean.
New York Mets: 1 winning 4 losing seasons out of the mean
Philadelphia Phils 0 winning, 11 losing seasons out of the mean
Philadelphia A’s 1 winning 7 losing seasons out of the mean
St. Louis Cardinals: 3 winning 1 losing season out of the mean
St. Louis Browns: 4 losing, 0 winning seasons out of the mean.

In most cases, the super-winners were well established organizations in major markets, the super-losers were newcomers to those markets, who may have experienced unfair competition in several ways. The story with Philadelphia is different; it seems that there were two established teams in a market big enough for only one, and they both suffered. The Philadelphia A’s left, and have never been replaced.

This means that other than these three bi-league cities, which account for 37 of the 56 anomalies, only 19 out of 160 finishes have experienced anomalies, outside of the 1/3 to 2/3 win range. That is a percentage of .118, which is certainly low indeed, lower than one in five finishes. Please also note that two of these involved expansion year teams other than the Mets, whose struggles were expected. That brings the number down to .106! Then factor in that the owner of the Boston Red Sox stripped the team of all serious players in 1920 to create three disastrous seasons, and the number reaches .0875%, 14 season finishes out of the norm during an 80 year period, or one anomaly in eleven finishes.

What we might conclude here, if anything, is that Smith’s “invisible hand” does work in baseball, most of the time, except when thrown out of whack by overwhelming cross-town competition, or by intentional self-destruction. This illustrates that in baseball, as in the world, as long as everyone gets a fair shake, things stay in balance, and that it is possible for a few powerful individuals to throw the numbers off once in a while.

But you knew that!

Great Hitters and Their Pitching Careers

THE MOST SURPRISING PITCHING STATS
IN THE WORLD
Great Hitters You Didn’t Know Pitched in the Major Leagues

What do Honus Wagner, Stan Musial, Paul O”Neill, Cesar Tovar, Tris Speaker, Dave Kingman, Ted Williams, and Cookie Rojas have in common?

You say, “Well, that’s easy. They were all great hitters and fielders!”

Yes, but did you know that each of these men pitched in the major leagues?

I bet you knew that Babe Ruth pitched in the majors as did George Sisler, but few know that these other sluggers pitched as well. It just goes to show, there are many things in heaven and earth that are not accounted for in your average baseball fan’s philosophy!

Of course you knew that Babe Ruth was a great pitcher for the Red Sox before becoming a home run hitter. He made many records on the mound at Fenway Park that still stand in the Hall of Fame, including consecutive scoreless World Series innings for the Red Sox. But did you know that he pitched for the New York Yankees, and in four seasons of pitching was undefeated? Most Yankee fans don’t know that, heck I didn’t know that until I looked it up. Ruth was that amazing.

He had a 1-0 record in ’20, with a 4.5 ERA, (while batting .376) went 2-0 in ’21, with a 9.0 ERA (while batting.378), 1-0 in 1930, a complete game pitched with a 3.0 ERA and three strikeouts (.359 batting average), and a 1-0 season in 1933, with a complete game win and a 5.0 ERA (he batted .301 that year). In his years with the Yankees he was 5-0 in five starts with two complete games. So when people ask me who the greatest all-around player is, I say “Would you believe Babe Ruth?” His .342 lifetime batting average is nice, but I’ll take the pitching.

George Sisler was a contemporary of Ruth’s and converted from pitcher to first baseman because of his awesome batting average. In the major leagues, Sisler’s ERA was 2.35 lifetime in seven seasons pitched. He had 12 starts, pitching 111 innings in 23 games, with one shutout. Meanwhile, his lifetime batting average was .340, and in 1922 batted a stupendous .420, one of the greatest seasons at the plate in history. No wonder his teammates took the pitching rosin out of his hands in 1919 and gave him a first baseman’s glove.

There have been several highly versatile fielders over the years who could play many positions, but only a few who added pitching to their resume.

Cookie Rojas, recently a coach for the New York Mets, played major league ball for sixteen seasons. During all that time, he played every position ever invented, and fairly well; he played second base in 1449 games, outfield in 200 games, third base in 46 games, shortstop in 39 games, DH in 16 games, catcher in 7 games, first base in 2 games, and pitched in one game. In that game, he gave up one hit and no runs in one inning of ball in 1967 for the Phillies. Maybe he did it just to complete the cycle. People probably asked, “What position HAVEN’T you played?” And he answered honestly, “Pitcher.” So they let him pitch.

That is more impressive than Al Spalding, a Hall of Fame Manager, who in 1876, started 60 games as a pitcher for the Chicago team, with 53 complete games, batting .312, with 2 triples, and managed the team while also playing 10 games in the outfield, and 3 games at first base. His ERA that busy year was only 1.75. He won 47 games and lost 13. Little wonder he made it to the Hall of Fame. 47 wins is a Mendoza Line of excellence no one will ever get to enjoy again, not to mention the complete games.

But even these pitching stats are not the most amazing in baseball. What is remarkable is that many of the greatest hitters in the game tried to walk in Babe Ruth’s spiked shoes as it were, with varying degrees of success on the mound.

Tris Speaker, for example, pitched in a game for Boston in 1914, giving up two hits, and one run. He batted .338 that year. His fellow teammate, Babe Ruth was a rookie pitcher that same year, pitching in four games, batting only .200 in 10 at-bats. Ruth was 2-1, with a 3.91 ERA, in case you were curious, with only 3 strikeouts all year. Somehow they knew to send Tris back to the outfield, and to renew Ruth’s contract; both good moves. In any case, it is amazing to note that both Speaker and Ruth, two of the greatest names in hitting, both pitched for the same team the same season.

Stan Musial was certainly a great hitter for St. Louis, but did you know he pitched one inning in 1952, and pitched a “no hitter?” They should have tried him for nine innings at that rate. His lifetime average was .331, which is what people remember him for.

Cesar Tovar was a lifetime .278 hitter, but had 36 doubles in 1970, which is no small thing. However, it was in 1968 that he pulled off one of his most amazing feats, he started a game for the Twins. Tovar gave up one walk, got one strikeout, and gave up no runs.

The Yankees’ Paul O’Neill will always be remembered for his doubles and triples, not for his pitching, but did you know that in 1987, he pitched for the Cincinnati Reds? He survived on the mound for two innings, getting two strikeouts, but giving up two hits, four walks, and three runs in the process, to earn a 13.50 ERA. They sent him back to the outfield. Good idea!

Honus Wagner, “The Flying Dutchman,” was certainly one of the greatest hitters in baseball history, (.381 in 1900) and taught the young Ted Williams how to hit. Perhaps he taught him to pitch as well. Wagner pitched in two games for the St. Louis Cardinals, one in 1900, one in 1902, a total of 8.1 innings, and got six strikeouts without giving up a run. He gave up a total of 7 hits and 6 walks, but apparently stopped the rallies in time to save the day. His lifetime average was .329 at the plate.

His hitting protégé, Ted Williams, of all people, pitched in a game in 1940. Maybe that’s why they call him “Teddy Ballgame.” He pitched two innings, gave up one run, three hits, and struck out one man. How would it feel to be struck out by Ted Williams? Sure he had a .344 lifetime batting average, but to strike out against him as a pitcher is like being beaten in arm wrestling by your sister!

Dave (“King Kong”) Kingman, who homered 442 times in his career, pitched four glorious innings for his San Francisco Giants in 1973, and got four men to strike out. Interesting he led the league in strikeouts three times, but that was as an outfielder. He pitched in two games that year, giving up one run per inning, three hits and six walks total. Not bad for a slugger who was to hit 48 round-trippers (The Jimmy Foxx line) in a single season in 1979.

Bobby Veach was a .310 lifetime outfielder for Detroit, and played in the 1925 World Series. But few remember his pitching appearance in 1918, a year in which he led the league with 78 RBIs, but in which he also threw two innings giving up two hits, two walks, and one run, earning himself a save. On the big list of “most saves by a relief pitcher, lifetime,” he is last. But its amazing he’s on the list!

Some great fielders who weren’t great shakes as hitters were also sent to the mound to try their luck against their opposite numbers, with varying success.

Buck Martinez, who had a pitcher’s batting average anyway, .225 lifetime, but a great fielder, pitched one inning in 1979 for the Milwaukee Brewers, giving up one hit, one base on balls, no strikeouts, and no earned runs.

Mario Mendoza, a great fielder but poor hitter, after whom the ignominious “Mendoza Line” was named, pitched two innings in 1977 for the Pittsburgh Pirates, and was anything but great, with a 13.50 ERA, giving up 3 hits and 2 walks, with no strikeouts. It didn’t help his batting average either. His 13.50 ERA is another type of “Mendoza Line.” When you hit that mark at any point in the season, people generally tell you to sit down. His relative Mike Mendoza also pitched an inning for Houston in 1979, giving up no runs.

Gene Michael, a substitute shortstop with the 1968 Yankees, (43 games) came in to pitch 3 innings in one game. He gave up 5 hits, no walks, and no runs, with three strikeouts.

So the next time someone says, “Which pitcher had the highest lifetime batting average?” You can say Tris Speaker, .344 lifetime; Ted Williams .344 lifetime; Babe Ruth,.342 lifetime; George Sisler, .340 lifetime; Stan Musial, .331 lifetime; and Honus Wagner .329 lifetime. Any other questions?

Most Seasons Pitched Records

The Rhyme of the Ancient Pitcher:
How Old is “Old” ?

Many Taoist philosophers in China developed a belief in immortality. Myths and legends around the world suggest it is possible to achieve a deathless state, for example the Babaji figure of the Himalayas, the Joseph of Aramathea character in Grail legends, Yoda, of the Star Wars neo-mythology looks pretty old to me. Then there’s the Wandering Jew, and Mel Brooks 2000 year old man. Methusula had it easy by comparison. But what about pitchers? Is it true that some pitchers can pitch forever? Or is it a myth?

To misquote the bard Bob Dylan, “How many years can a man pitch in the major leagues before he is washed out to the sea?” Well, I did a complete analysis of all pitchers in the 20th Century, and found that there is a line beyond which no pitcher has ever survived, a quarter century in the majors. Many have pitched 20 seasons, but it tapers off quickly above that, a curve, appropriately enough.

It seems that no matter how strong a man is, he cannot pitch for more than 25 seasons without losing the competitive edge. Only Jim Kaat reached his 25th season, while only Tommy John and Phil Niekro reached their 24th season, yet more reached 23 seasons, 22 and 21 respectively. Like wins in a season, 20 seasons seems to be a kind of Mendoza line for champions; any pitcher who pitches into a glorious twentieth season is probably headed for the Hall. He will at least get an honorable stat mention, for one reason or another, if only for most mornings at practice on time.

Here is the complete breakdown. So if you plan to pitch your way into the Hall of Fame, you’d better eat your Wheaties. Unless your name is Sandy Koufax, it takes about 20 seasons to collect enough victories, strikeouts, and saves, to make it. That’s how many years Babe Ruth was in the American League; you could call it “the Babe Ruth line.” Only 29 pitchers have hit or passed the 20 season mark, but almost all are Hall of Famers. (Eppa Rixey, you say; who was he? I don’t know! There’s an exception to every rule)


25 Seasons Pitched (The Unbreakable Line)
Jim Kaat

24 Seasons Pitched (The Tommy John Line)
Tommy John
Phil Niekro

23 Seasons Pitched (The Steve Carlton Line)
Steve Carlton
Jack Quinn
Early Wynn

22 Seasons Pitched (The Gaylord Perry Line)
Sad Sam Koons
Herb Pennock
Gaylord Perry
Red Ruffing
Nolan Ryan
Don Sutton
Cy Young

21 Seasons Pitched (The Walter Johnson Line)
Clark Griffith
Waite Hoyt
Walter Johnson
Ted Lyons
Lindy McDaniel
Joe Niekro
Eppa Rixey
Warren Spahn

20 Seasons Pitched (The Tom Seaver Line)
Grover Cleveland Alexander
Red Faber
Mel Harder
Dutch Leonard
Dolf Luque
Babe Ruth (pitched on and off from 1914 to 1933)
Tom Seaver
Curt Simmons

19 Seasons Pitched (the “Luis Tiant” Line)
Babe Adams
Nick Altrock
Freddie Fitzsimmons
John Franco
Burleigh Grimes
Jesse Haines
Dick Hall
Jerry Koosman
Tug McGraw
Jim Palmer
Ron Reed
Jerry Reuss
Luis Tiant
Bucky Walters
Tom Zachary

18 Seasons Pitched (The Bob Feller Line)
Burt Blyleven
Lew Burdett
Wild Bill Donovan
Bob Feller
Woody Fryman
Charlie Hough
Johnny Klippstein
Rube Marquand
Don McMahon
Claude Osteen
Camilo Pasqual
Ray Sedecki
Mike Torrez

17 Seasons Pitched (The Bob Gibson Line)
Vida Blue
Jim Bunning
Tom Burgmaier
Guy Bush
Al Downing
Moe Drabowski
Rollie Fingers
Bob Gibson
Steve Gromek
Lefty Grove
Ron Kline
Danny MacFayden
Christy Mathews
Bob Miller
Milt Pappas
Jim Perry
Eddie Plank
Charlie Root
Virgil Trucks
Wilbur Wood

16 Years Pitched (The Whitey Ford Line)
Chief Bender
Tommy Bridges
Bill Dietrich
Roy Face
Whitey Ford
Ken Forsch
Terry Forrster
Bob Friend
Goose Gossage
Larry Gura
Bill Henry
Carl Hubbell
Darold Knowles
Vernon Law
Thornton Lee
Mickey Lolitch
Sparky Lyle
Juan Marichal
Mike McCormick
Fred Norman
Jack Powell
Bobby Shantz

Satchel Paige pitched in 1965 at the age of 59 years old, however he did not pitch consecutive years in the majors. He pitched from 1948 to 1953, then again in 1965. If he had stayed in the majors in the interim years, he would have had 18 seasons in the big leagues.

Spotlight on Former Mets Manager, Frank Howard

Frank Howard: Myth or Legend?
copyright c 1998 by Evan Pritchard

Back in the 1960’s when I was growing up, Frank Howard was a slugger of mythic proportions. Ted Williams once said of Frank; “Without question, he was the biggest, strongest guy who ever played the game of baseball...and a real nice guy.” He is a home run legend.

If a player’s mythological status can be measured by the number of nicknames he carries, Frank is a virtual Paul Bunyon. At six-foot-seven and with 250 pounds of bulging muscle, Frank Howard has accumulated nicknames like few players before or since. He is called “The Gentle Giant” (after a local TV show for kids) “Hondo,” (no one knows why) and The Capitol Punisher, (re: Our Nation’s Capitol where he played) among many others. However, he was addressed respectfully by umpires only as “Mister Howard.” (see Ron Luciano’s book The Fall of the Roman Umpire). I can’t imagine why! I guess it’s hard to argue over a called strike with a man who is blocking out the sun.

He possessed an incredible presence at the plate that has never been duplicated. Perhaps some younger hurlers today hope it won’t be any time soon. His bat, which was twice the size of some of those in use today, could accidentally hit check swing homers, one-handed homers, broken bat homers, and once in a while he would even connect with one of those annoying “intentional walk” pitches that Frank was so tired of seeing--the bat was that immense!

When he connected squarely with a serious fastball any pitcher had the nerve to throw, the ball could disappear right out of sight, or over the rooftops, and down the street, or splinter seats way up the upper deck.

If this sounds like a tall Paul Bunyon story, I agree, it does. But I grew up in D.C., watching all those “giant” homers leave his bat, and they were no mythology, except to the extent that baseball is living mythology, and home run sluggers her heroes.

Many of Frank Howard’s home runs were dramatic, just because of distance. But as with most great home run hitters, they came in batches. For example, in May of 1968 he hit ten homers in six games, shattering the seven mark once set by Maris, Mays and others for the same period of time. The last two were off Mickey Lolitch of theTigers (17 game winner and World Series hero that year) and put Frank so far ahead in the AL home run race that no one ever caught him.

But even in that amazing year, he only hit a total of 44. Today, we’re used to bigger numbers. The team he now works for, the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, have four guys in the lineup who hit 30 swats or more in ‘99, Vinny Castilla, Fred McGriff, Jose Canseco, and Greg Vaughn.

Many of the ancient marks are being broken now by guys too young to remember the names of those who set the records. What’s different? How do you explain the home run craze that’s changed the way the game is played? Do these new players deserve to share the limelight with the pinstripe lineage of Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, or Mickey Mantle?

To find out the real story on what it is that makes a great home run hitter, and perhaps to get a perspective on the home run’s place in baseball’s great mythology, I made a pilgrimage southward to see the hero of my youth, one of the greatest home run champs to ever knock down fences, a Mr. Frank Howard. He has probably hit, watched, scored on, and even leaned over the railing and stolen away, more home runs in both the NL and the AL than most players ever will. His 40-year involvement with the major leagues has given him a long view of the long ball that is nothing if not a national treasure.

With the encouragement of his long-time family friend Loretta Coffield, he agreed to contribute his comments to this millennial look backward at the history of the home run ball. I hope you find his words as enlightening as I do. As we used to say in Washington, D.C. “Let’s go Hondo!”



My Dinner With Frank Howard:
The Long View On the Long Ball

“The home run as Babe Ruth popularized it, has always been a big deal for a lot of the fans. They like to see the “Mighty McGwires” and the Cansecos, and the big Juan Gonzalezes hit those blasts into the upper decks!

“I’ve seen Killebrew, Stargell, McCovey, Frankie Robinson—whoever you want to talk about--I’ve seen them hit baseballs unbelievable distances. But today’s athlete, with his year-round training facilities and programs, has a definite advantage. Overall, I’m not saying they’re any bigger or stronger than we were, but there are more of them that are in better shape.. These young power guys today are consistently hitting the ball further than we ever thought about hitting it. I think it’s due to better nutrition, better training facilities and better programs.

“None of us in the 1960’s ever made enough money not to work in the off-season. I’ve been working year-round for 44 years! I’ve developed real estate, I’ve worked for a paper company, I’ve worked for Jim Beam brands, and still do, in the off-season.

“Is the ball livelier than it was when I was playing? Oh, it’s probably wound a little tighter. There’s no question. I think that maybe the pitching is a little thinner nowadays as well, only because we have thirty clubs rather than sixteen.

“How much validity is there to that, I couldn’t tell you. I don’t really know if the ball is juiced up, I don’t really know if the pitching is thinner. I do know this. The athletes are faster and stronger through better conditioning.


“I saw Harmon Killebrew a month ago, out in Phoenix on business. Harmon and I were at the same function together. Now here’s a guy who hit 576 home runs lifetime and probably hit some of the longest tee-shots you’ve ever seen. And I said “Harmon, as many balls as I’ve seen you and many of these other great sluggers hit for distances, McGwire is consistently hitting the ball farther than any man who’s ever played this game.

“I said to Harmon, ‘How many did you ever hit? Did you ever hit 50 in one year?’

“’No, I hit 49 twice!” he said.

“I said, ‘48 was my best year. This guy hit 22 more home runs than I did, 21 more than you did.... in our best years!!! Geesh!’

“I’m not singling him out. There’s other great athletes. There’s Juan Gonzalez, Albert Bell, Sammy Sosa, and on and on.”

“Sammy Sosa can really “scald that seed.” And he’s only five foot ten and weighs 200 pounds, but what a great swing he’s got.

“But Mark McGwire is the epitome of today’s power hitter. I said, ‘Harmon, this man hit 22 more home runs than I ever thought about hitting. And the balls he’s hitting...I mean.... incredible power!’

“Bobby Wine, the advance scout for the Atlanta Braves called me from Coors Field in Denver. He said, ‘Frank, you oughta be out here.’

“I said, ‘Why’s that, Bobby?’

“He said,”There’s 35,000 to 40,000 in this ball park to see McGwire take batting practice.’

“Back of those bleachers in left and center field, up 150 feet 200 feet are your hot dog stands.’ He said, ‘Frank, he’s knocking beers and hot dogs out of those guys’ hands up there!’ It’s 358 down the left field line, 400 to left, 420 in left center, and 440 to center field in that park. Now I know the air’s a little lighter in Denver, a mile high, but that is amazing!

“He must be hitting those baseballs at least 600 feet. He’s six foot five, about 260 pounds, and he’s got his body fat under 10%. What a magnificent specimen, and what great physical physique. They say he works really hard in the off season. I have no doubt that’s the reason why he’s able to hit them so consistently.

“I sometimes debate with my peers over this very subject. The old sluggers were great, but I’m not taking away anything away from today’s ball players. I can see that we have as many great ballplayers playing the game today as we’ve ever had in my lifetime. They’re just spread out over more teams.

“I don’t live in the past. I believe in playing today’s game today. I had my run in the sun, and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

“I tell all the young instructors, young managers, coaches, and instructors, who come to ask me about some aspect of baseball; it doesn’t make me smarter, it just makes me older. I’ve experienced things that they will experience, but haven’t yet.

“I’m completely honest with my bosses. I say, ‘Let me tell you something, I’m not smarter, just older. I’ve made every mistake that a ball player can make on that field. I’ve made every mistake that a coach can make on the field, and I know every time I managed I made every mistake they can make.’

“But its still been a fun game for me. I look back at the people I’ve played with, played against, the friendships that I’ve formed, not only with my own teammates, but the competitors I’ve teed up against, the John Boog Powells, and I say, ‘How lucky can one guy be?’

“I had the good fortune to play under the great Ted Williams. I played five years, 68 through 72, for one of the great all-time magnetic human beings you’ll ever meet--Ted Williams. He helped me manage my strike zone a lot better. He made me a little more disciplined at the plate. He took a completely undisciplined hitter, tightened up my strike zone and made me more selective at the plate. He’s just an amazing man, he really is.

“After he retired, I played in Detroit in 73, and then went to Japan in 74. While playing in the Japanese League, I tore up my knee and had to come home and have surgery. I was done. After that I couldn’t play any more. 1974 turned out to be my last year.

“Everybody says, well, Ted Williams knows hitting. Let me tell you something. Ted Williams knows as much about pitching as any pitching coach in the big leagues, knows as much about good quality outfield play as any outfield instructor. Hitting, he’s unparalleled; light years ahead of the rest of us. The one area he didn’t know a whole heck of a lot about was infield play, but had the great Nellie Fox as his coach to help him. He’s a marvelous man, a marvelous man.

“We’d all like to call ourselves our own man, but that’s a fallacy. We have to answer to somebody, our wives, our mothers, girlfriends, our bosses, somebody. Ted Williams is the only human being I ever met that can truly call himself his own man. He answered to nobody but himself.

“He was a great home run hitter, of course. The longest home run I ever hit may have been the one I hit over the light tower at the 407 mark in the old Forbes Field in Pittsburgh. It was just going up when it went over the tower. Or maybe the ball I hit through the light towers over the left field roof at Tiger Stadium was the longest.

“There’s been several hit over the right field roof. There’s only been three hit over the left field roof in the whole history of that great stadium, one by Cecil Fielder, one by Harmon Killebrew, and one by myself. That was in 1968, one of my best years.
“Now, in terms of my most memorable or most emotionally satisfying homers; that’s something else.

“Probably the home run I hit off Whitey Ford in the fourth game of the ‘63 World Series stands out, because it put us up one to nothing in a four game sweep of the Yankees.
“When you’re competing at the major league level, and in that case in a World Championship game, naturally it’s a thrill to make that contribution, especially off of a Hall of Famer, Whitey Ford, one of the all-time great pitchers.

“I’ll never forget that game. I hit a double off the monuments in the first game (at Yankee Stadium) off one of his high fastballs. I knew he was going to spin a breaking ball to me this time. I hit that curve ball off him far up in the third deck at Dodger Stadium to put the Dodgers ahead one to nothing in the fifth inning of a pitchers’ duel between Ford and Koufax. Mantle tied it later on a home run off of Koufax, and we won the game on account of a freak play when Pepitone didn’t pick up the throw from third which turned out to be a three-base error.

“Then you can go back to the home run I hit in the ‘69 All Star Game off of Steve Carlton, another Hall of Famer, another outstanding great pitcher. I guess that one was memorable because it was played in Washington, D.C. in front of our home town fans. I had my best years in that city, I lived in that area--my home is still in Northern Virginia, just south of Leesburgh--so of course I’ve always considered myself a Washingtonian. To do that in front of my home town people, to give them something they came out to the ballpark to see--one of their local boys hit a home run--stands out.

“Probably the most emotional home run I ever hit was the last home run ever hit in RFK Stadium with the Senators, only because the ball club was leaving to move to Texas. I’d had my best years there in Washington. I love the city, love the people in it. And to hit that home run that last night, knowing I’d probably never be back there was a great thrill.

“By the way, I not only hit the last home run in Washington D.C.’s history, but also the first home run in Texas Rangers’ history as well. A lot of Texans remember that!

“This is my 42nd year in the big leagues. I had 16 years as an active player. Forget the 25 that I’ve been coaching. This is my 37th year as a player or coach in the big leagues, and these are the four homers that stand out. You could talk about the ten home runs I hit in six games, but I can’t remember any of them being an emotional type of experience. I’d have to say probably maybe the one that meant the most to me was the one hit off Ford in the fourth game of the ‘63 series, and the home run off of Carlton in the All Star game, because we were playing it at home."

Note: It was only after this interview was recorded that the news about McGwire and steroids was revealed. But it is certain that Frank Howard never used steroids, and his homers travelled much further than McGwire's ever did.
At a future time, we will post photos of the "white seats" that still grace RFK stadium, some near the roof of the upper deck, far from the field of play. In fact, Frank Howard hit a ball during his days at Ohio State in Columbus that rolled up to the stairs of the anthropology department on the other side of campus. McGwire never did anything like that.

Let us not denegrate the home run hero just because of the steroid scandal. It will always be a sacred part of baseball.

Spotlight on "Chief" Charles Bender

The Man Who Invented The Slider

Not all ancient mythobaseballogical heroes were batters. Not by any means. Just as many were pitchers. Forged of steel, these men faced constant danger, stress, injury, sudden defeat, and the short tempers of pitching coaches, in whose hands their fates rested. Although batters can rest through much of a game (especially bad ones who never have to run past first) pitchers never get much rest (especially bad ones who never get anyone out). What’s interesting to me is that several of these pitchers were Native American. Charlie Yellow Horse was the only full-blood major leaguer known to history, and his story is recorded in 60 feet 6 inches, and a long way from home.” Allie Reynolds, who pitched a no hitter for the Yankees, was another of Native American descent. But my favorite Native American pitcher will probably always be Charles Bender, who (along with people like Louis Sockalexis) helped break the color line in baseball in 1903, thirty years before Hank Greenberg and half a century before Jackie Robinson. He took some heat, but he also dished out some heat from the mound, the temperature of which has been compared to Walter Johnson’s. Although he considered the nickname the whole world called him; “Chief,” unflattering, he would respond by saying quietly, “My name is Charles.”

Born in Crow Wing County, Minnesota in 1884, this early 20th Century Chippewa baseball player, Charles Bender, pitched his way into the Hall of Fame at Cooperstown, and is easily considered one of the all-time greats. As a league leading pitcher who was not bad at the plate, he may well have been a sports hero to the young Babe Ruth. (Bender had 6 homers lifetime in the dead ball era plus 40 doubles, 10 triples, and smacked 243 total hits) Many teams at that time scouted the reservation diamonds for great athletes even before they went to college. Lots of them made it into the majors; and in many cases, their native origins were hidden from the public, but not Bender. He was proud to be Chippewa and America loved him.

How popular was he? When he faced off with Christy Mathewson in the first seven-game World Series in 1905 it established a crowd attendance record at a whopping 24,187. He pitched a five hitter but lost 2 to 0 in that one. He faced Mathewson once again in the opening game of the 1911 World Series, and established yet another attendance record, a historic 38,281. (Both were at the Giants’ Polo Grounds. Mathewson facing anyone else always drew less) Again he pitched a five hitter but lost, this time 2 to 1. That attendance figure was only broken once before 1922, and that was the day Ruth started for Boston in the 1916 World Series, at home. It was broken again, but just barely in ‘22 (38,551) in the “no-subway” series where both teams called the Polo Grounds their home. The next year, Yankee Stadium was opened as the first big “stadium,” and a whole new era began, starring Babe Ruth. But Ruth grew up following pitching masterpieces by Charles Bender on the radio.

He started out at the Carlisle Indian School in 1898 to 1901, playing football and baseball in the Jim Thorpe days. As a college kid at Dickinson College he played semi-pro ball under the name Charles Albert with the Harrisburg Athletic Club to pay his bills. The Chicago Cubs faced his ragtag club in an exhibition game in 1902, and when the 18 year old “Indianboy” beat them soundly, it sent shock waves throughout baseball. He signed with the hot-pitching Philadelphia A’s at 19 (1903) and started 33 games. He won 17 and pitched 270 innings. He went on to win over 200 games and led the A’s to five World Series contests, contributing to four World Series championships, and winning six World Series games.

Charles Bender did not get angry when people called ridiculed him or used racist taunts. He just called them “foreigners.” The outspoken and tough Connie Mack, who described Bender as the best “must-win” pitcher he’d ever managed, (he managed Lefty Grove, I might add, and a lot of other Hall of Famers) respectfully called him “Albert,” his middle name. Eddie Collins believed Bender, on a good day, to be just as fast as Walter Johnson. Ty Cobb called Bender “the brainiest pitcher he’d ever faced.” History knows him as the inventor of the slider, which is a combination curve and fastball, used by every top pitcher today--most of them learned it from someone who learned it from Bender--who was also one of baseball’s greatest pitching coaches for 35 years.

The slider is one of the greatest gifts to baseball any individual ever offered, perhaps the greatest besides Ruth and the long ball. Today it is part of an esoteric oral tradition among pitchers, a difficult pitch to throw correctly, or to control, but which can change the outcome of a game or even a season when mastered.

In the annals of history, there is from time to time a moment when a new invention upsets the delicate balance of power in the world, such as the bow and arrow, the stirrup, the crossbow, the Gatlin gun, the atomic bomb, etc. Baseball has always been a game that thrived on these delicate balances. The day Bender first used the slider on an opposing team, it threw all baseball a curve which it has never recovered from. Bender first tried it in a game against the Cleveland Indians May on 12th, 1910, and the results were historic. He was unhittable! It turned out to be his only no-hitter, but it was probably one of the most historic games ever pitched, kind of like The Little Big Horn, like Hiroshima, or any battle where a new weapon is unveiled. Some called it ‘The Nickel Curve,” due to the fact that the face on the nickel at that time bore a resemblance to Sitting Bull, not the worst insult under the circumstances. That day changed the face of baseball, and that’s no bull. Some believe the tradition of platooning lefties and righties against pitchers of opposite “hands” stems from the aftermath of that day on the mound. The slider seems to give unequal trouble to opposite-handed hitters. Today, fully half of most team’s rosters can hit left handed, even though lefties make up 10% of the general population.

Bender kept his ERA under 2.00 for three straight years, from 1908 to 1910. In 1910, 1911,. and 1914, he led the league in win-loss percentage in an era of great pitching, 23-5, 17-5, and 17-3 respectively.

1910 was his greatest season, winning 23 games (including the no-hitter) and allowing only 182 hits and 47 walks in 250 inning, with a 1.58 ERA. The aspiring pitcher Babe Ruth was 15 years old at that time and had to have seen Bender play. Ruth followed in his footsteps but never got his ERA that low) He won the opening game of the World Series that year, throwing a one-hitter through 8 innings against the 104-win Cubs. (They’d actually won 530 games in five years) The stunned Cubs managed two more singles in the ninth, but the A’s won, and went on to win the Series.

In 1911, he pitched a five-hitter to open the Series, but lost to Mathewson. Bender won 4-2 in game four, and then pitched a four-hitter to win the final game for the A’s, 13-2, and their second straight World Championship.

In 1913, the A’s other veteran starters were injured, so Bender pioneered in the art of relief pitching to help the subs out, a science still in its infancy then. He won 6 out of the bullpen, 21 games in all, and lost only 10, marking up 13 saves. The 34 victories he contributed to helped the A’s to the pennant in a tight three way race. Bender won two World Series games that year against the Giants, who went down in five. To give you a rough idea of how unusual relief pitching was in those days, of the 112 starting pitchers in all 56 of the World Series games played up to that point in history, a total of only 33 had needed relief pitchers. Bender was a starter again in the Series, but fortunately, the A’s didn’t need any relief, winning in five games. (The use of relievers didn’t really become popular until the 1940’s.)

In 1914, he had another great year, and pitched in the World Series against the Braves, but the A’s were swept in four games. It turned out to be his last year in the American League.

He pitched the only American League win in the first regulation World Series, a masterful 4 hit shutout over the famed McGinnity of the Giants. His 20 strikeouts in a World Series record in 1911 was unbroken until 1945,when Newhauser hurled 22 for Detroit, but in a full seven games. (His six game record still stands as far as I know) Interestingly, Bender pitched against the Giants in the 1913 World Series, the year that Native American and fellow Algonkian speaker, Jim Thorpe, played outfield for the Giants, but Thorpe never appeared at the plate. Apparently he had other things to do...like professional football.

Bender became an oil painter and lived until 1954, just long enough to see his inevitable entry into the Hall of Fame in 1953. Like most of his victories on the field, his life seemed to come to completion with a satisfying resolution, a standing ovation, and a fulfilling sense of accomplishment for a job well done.

Pre-Historic World Series Homers; The First Post Season Sluggers

PRE-HISTORIC WORLD SERIES HOMERS

Like baseball itself, home runs have evolved over time. Although some still have trouble imagining the human being evolving out of an ape, I hope that some scientifically objective readers will be able to visualize a time in baseball history where home runs were not central to the game, and were not even well documented. If home run history begins with the famous “Home Run Baker,” these early homers can truly be called “pre-historic.” Fortunately for baseball philosophers, a few years ago, a clay vessel was dug up under a rock inside a treasure chest at the bottom of a lake deep inside a cave in the middle of Idaho. Inside the vessel was a record, lamentably brief, of all the world series home runs hit before Home Run Baker. It was through the inspiration of God that some baseball monk foresaw the importance of World Series homers, and thought to inscribe them onto a sheet for posterity. He (or she) couldn’t have possibly known the importance that such homers would take on years later, especially at Fenway Park and Yankee Stadium.

Yes, human beings were capable of hitting World Series home runs before the famous ones by Home Run Baker; it’s just that no one seemed to pay that much attention. “The ball went over the fence, big deal!” seemed to be the view of most sports writers. Accurate records weren’t even published in some cases, but these forgotten homers were dramatic moments, none-the-less.

Let’s take a nostalgic look back at these forgotten triumphs of a bygone day, when World Series games were afterthoughts, and homers just a ball lost in the stands--Actually, it was called “The World’s Series” in those days.

Here’s a comprehensive list of all of the homers ever hit since the first experimental Series of Nineteen-ought-three, through the first ten “regulation” series as well.

The first World Series (excuse me, Worlds’ Series) homer was hit by the left handed James Dennison Sebring for the National League’s Pittsburgh Pirates in that experimental nine-game marathon in 1903. In that year, the upstart “protestant” American League was founded as a challenge to the Holy Mother “catholic” League of the Nationals. The American League claimed its authority from The People rather than Abner Doubleday, and dared to challenge the Nationals to a best of nine contest of skill to prove who had the greatest players, or to see who was the most righteous, baseball-wise.

Perhaps it was also believed that if the Americans had truly blasphemed as it seemed, and was believed by pious NL fans around the globe, that God would smite them and make them to blow the Series match in five.

This was an earlier time in our nation’s history, when an person’s innocence would be acknowledged only if they were flameproof at the stake, and a good starting pitcher could pitch 14 innings without relief and come out unscathed, if he was “right with God.”

In 1903 it was “our best versus your best,” and the National League had some firebrand pitchers at the pulpit. The “one true” National League took up the gauntlet and won that first game 7 to 4. It looked as if this minor heresy would be crushed before it spread.

Unfortunately for the bishops of the National League hierarchy, the first American League World Series homer was hit for the Boston Pilgrims (soon to be once again Red Sox) the next day, October 2nd, by “Patrick Henry” Dougherty, and he hit two, to help the Pilgrims sink the Pirates 3-0.

RBI’s (Runs Batted In) were not to be invented for many years to come, and people didn’t use expressions like “three run homer,” “two run homer,” or “grand slam,” so it’s not clear who knocked in that other run. The thought was, “That batter didn’t put those guys on base, why should he get credit for someone else’s hard work?” (see “grand slam”) Today, baseball scholars use computers to retroactively calculate RBI and ERA stats the way TNT releases “full color” versions of classic old black and white movies.

The plucky Pilgrims not only escaped persecution from the National League, they survived a perditious autumn and won the series in nine games. The Americans were soon established as a major world power.

The following year, the Giants won the National League pennant, but refused to play the once-again victorious Pilgrims (some say Red Sox) in a series because the Americans “were a minor operation.” They didn’t count. They’d just go away sooner or later. That horrendous snub fired up rivalries between New York and Boston teams which continued to this day.

However, the AL and NL came to the table together to sign a peace agreement, the terms were worked out, and a series was played in 1905, between the Philadelphia A’s of the American League and the Giants of the National League, according to the rules invented by the tough guy, John McGraw, the Giants’ owner-manager, who thought that seven games were a good number. But no homers were hit.

The next World Series home run, believe it or not, wasn’t hit until October 11th, 1908 by shortstop Joseph Bert Tinker of literary fame. The poem, “Tinker, to Evers to Chance” was one of my favorite poems as a kid, a salute to the double play. It was the bottom of the 8th inning at Waterfront Stadium (near where Wrigley is now) in a scoreless game. Tinker was 0 for 2 against “Wild Bill” Donovan, who had barely allowed anyone on base the whole game. Tinker hit a homer as the Cubs exploded for 6 runs and held on to beat the Tigers 6-1 in the second game. Chicago won the series.

In 1909, the post-season homer started to play a larger role than before. In the opening game, Fred Clarke hit one for Pittsburgh to help them win the game 4-1. Perhaps by then someone had noticed that the team that hit the home run in a World Series game always won, so on October 13th of that year, Detroit hit two, one by left fielder David “Kangaroo” Jones and one by “Wahoo Sam” Crawford, who went 3 for 4. Unfortunately for them, Fred Clarke came up and hit one more out of the park to help the Pirates win the slug-fest anyway, 8 to 4. It had been three all in the bottom of the seventh, when Pittsburgh scored 4 times to break it open, and went on to win the series.

In 1910, A’s right fielder Dan Murphy hit the only homer of the series, which helped the A’s win the third game of the match-up 12 to 5 over the Cubs. Murphy scored a total of eight runs and the A’s were victorious as usual with the help of Charles “Chief” Bender, the Ojibway who invented the “slider,” by the way.

In 1911, Frank “Home Run” Baker brought the terms “World Series” and “Home Run” together in the minds of the public for the first time, and his timely two-run blast off Giants’ pitcher Rube Marquard in the 6th inning of game two broke a 1-1 tie and gave the A’s a 3-1 victory. That was the first “historic” home run that made everyone want to see one. That was when the nickname was bestowed upon him. That’s when the home run came into its own. It was like Ben Franklin and lightning, like Newton and his apple, like David and his slingshot. It got press.

Even more dramatic was his game-tying ninth inning shot off of Hall of Famer Christy Mathewson in the third game of that same series, making it 1 to 1. Mathewson was the patron saint of the National League, who had won an all-time record 38 games back in 1908. The A’s came back to win 3-2 in the 11th, as Hall of Famer Jack Coombs held the Giants to just 3 hits through 11 innings. You don’t see that any more--a starter going 14 innings! But Coombs was used to that. His mark of 13 complete shutouts in a season still stood as of 1993. Most team pitching staffs (staves?) don’t match that today.

No one remembers the home run hit in the 5th game by the young center fielder Ruben Oldring for the A’s, but it was terribly, terribly historic, if you’re into trivia. It marked the first time a team had hit the only home run in a World Series game and lost, and only the second time that a team had hit any homers at all in a series game and lost.

The 1912 series was the first real meeting between the Boston Red Sox and the New York Giants, the same October match-up that was canceled in 1904, due to childish bickering between the leagues. Tensions mounted high.

“Laughin’ Larry” Doyle hit a home run in the seventh game of the World Series to give the Giants an 11-7 win. He was called Larry “Laughin’ all the way to the bank” Doyle because he was hired as a rookie for the obscene sum of $4,000, and never produced, but it didn’t help his luck in that series: Although it was the seventh game, it wasn’t the end. It only brought the series to an exciting 3-3-1 tie. In those days, before lighted stadiums and night games, you could actually “tie” in baseball, which makes a mess of all of our statistics. The 3rd game had been called on account of darkness in the 11th inning, tied 6-6, with the indefatigable starter Christy Mathewson still on the mound for New York. (Larry Gardner had hit one for Boston in the same game.)

It was only in the eighth game (sounds funny, doesn’t it?) that the Red Sox finally put the Giants in their place, to end “once and for all” (NOT!) the New York-Boston rivalry that started in 1903 at the birth of modern baseball.

1913’s series saw a homer in the first game by “Home Run” Baker which helped the A’s win 6 to 4. In the third game Shang hit one for the A’s which helped them win again, 8-2. Fred Merkle (of “Merkle’s Boner” fame of 1908) hit one for the Giants, in the 4th game but they lost anyway, 6-5. Merkle was not known for good luck.

In 1914, Home Run Baker led the league again in homers with nine, but didn’t hit any in post season play. The “nobody” Boston Braves won the NL pennant and swept the mighty A’s in four games, one of the greatest upsets of all time. The “Miracle Braves” were the early forerunners of the “Miracle Mets,” coming from nowhere at mid-season to go 68-19 for the last half. Catcher Hank Gowdy went 3 for 4 with one homer to assist Boston in a 5-4 victory in game three.

So that’s it. Only seventeen home runs were hit during the first dozen years of World Series competition between the best two teams in baseball. All that was about to change. By 1928, the New York Yankees were hitting 9 in only four games. In 1956 they hit 12 in a seven game contest, more than were hit by both leagues combined in regulation World Series play before 1913.

And that’s how the Post-Season Home Run evolved. In case you wanted to know.

Did Baseball Evolve? A Look at Baseball's Early Years

Did Baseball Evolve?
The Great Theo-basebological Debate Continues



Evan Pritchard is a professor of comparitive religions, and a baseball enthusiast and sometimes gets confused between the two subjects. He has made pilgrimmages to Fenway Park, the Himalayas, Tiger Stadium, Bear Butte, Wrigley Field, and to Assisi, Italy. By comparing baseball and religion he means no offense to baseball fans.

When I was a young baseball monk back in 1966, I thought that major league baseball teams were fixed reference points in the cosmic order of things like the earth itself, around which the whole universe revolved. God had created baseball on the sixth day to give him something to watch on TV on his day of rest...and that was it. He had set the All Star Game in the firmament,and parted the NL from the AL and night games from day games, right from the beginning. No monkeying around.

I was a Senators fan, and I was sure that George Washington had been a Senators fan as well. Then my 6th grade teacher, Miss Marilyn Simmons, mentioned in passing that the Twins were an offshoot of the Washington Senators. That meant they were a species of Nats Washingtonius, and I was left flattened. When they played each other, who would I cheer for? (Or against!) She explained that the old Senators had left town and a new team reappeared miraculously to take their place. How could they have left? I felt like an adoptee who’s just been told his real parents live in Minneapolis/St.Paul in a geodesic dome, selling scorecards for a living.

About that same time, 1966, the Milwaukee Braves were moving to Atlanta, leaving Milwaukee-ites without a team to root for, to care for and call their own. It was like watching Venus and Mars switch orbits, as far as I was concerned.

Then in 1969, the KC A’s left KC for Oakland, and a new species of team appeared on the baseball horizon, the Royals. Broadcasters let it slip that the A’s were really from Philadelphia. I didn’t know that! It made it somehow okay for them to go to California.
Then the Seattle Pilots moved to Milwaukee and metamorphized into the Brewers in 1970. It was like watching a chimp evolve into a parrot, very confusing.

God was preparing me for the coming holocaust, the advent of the star Wormwood, the Day of Judgement on the corruption in Washington. Ever since Richard Nixon started throwing out the first ball on Opening Days at RFK Stadium, named after his dead rival, there were talks of moving the team. Would the benevolent spirit of baseball abandon the Nation’s Capitol? Impossible. Then one day in 1971, around the time of the Watergate Break-in, Bob Short sold the Senators for a mess of pottage, ie Texas oil money. The name of the Senators was erased from the firmament, and a new team, The Texas Rangers, arose from the desert of central Texas to become one of the dominant teams in baseball, something the Senators were not.

It was the curse of Roosevelt. He came into office in 1933 just as the Senators won their last pennant. He proclaimed the New Deal and the Nats haven’t been close since. It must be his fault. When the Senators moved to Minnesota, they soon became pennant-winners. Texas ends up in first or second every other year. It’s all part of the curse.

One can’t help but note a series of conspiracies connecting the White House with the Washington baseball team. In 1961, the Washington team was stolen from Griffith Stadium, and were smuggled out to Minneapolis, Minnesota. Within two years, Kennedy was dead (assasinated in Texas) and Johnson became President, a Texas oil man. He immediately named as his Vice President, the top man in Minneapolis, Hubert H. Humphrey. It was obviously Johnson’s intention to get Humphrey into the White House so that the center of power would be moved to Minnesota until Texas was ready to take over. It didn’t work.

Humphrey and Johnson parted ways over conflicting feelings about the Vietnam war, and Humphrey’s Democratic support was splintered. Apparently, Johnson decided it was time that Texas begin to take over. Minnesotans were just too liberal.
Those who are erudite students of poli-sci-mytho-baseballogy know that this power struggle was foreshadowed in the fall of 1963 by the struggle between Minnesota and Boston. The Red Sox was, after all, the President’s team, and Carl Yastzremski had every right to expect to win the home run title. Nonetheless, Minnesota’s Harmon Killebrew ended up with more homers, and the Twins ended up 15 games ahead of the Red Sox in the American League. The idealistic Senators were dead last, and so was Texas. Six weeks later, Kennedy was killed in Dallas, and Texas began its ascent in the standings. Meanwhile the Dallas Cowboys were doing great guns against the Redskins. But that’s another story.

The new Senators were sold to Texas after the 1971 season, about the time that Nixon was secretly undermining Humphrey’s Presidential hopes through Watergate and other actions. After presumably fixing the NL race to have his hometown San Francisco Giants win the pennant in 1971, Nixon was re-elected in ‘72, with VP Agnew of Maryland, who had obvious connections with the Baltimore Orioles, the new site of Opening Day games, and host city to the American League Playoffs every year from 1969 to 1974 (with the exception of 1972 itself, that would have been too suspicious!). Agnew even threw out the first ball...in Baltimore! Nixon resigned in ‘74 (following closely on the heels of his hometown Giants star Willie Mays, who retired in ‘73) and within six years we had a Texas oil man as Vice President. That man, a former second baseman, later became President George Herbert Walker Bush, and his son wound up owning a large part of the Texas Rangers. Among poli-sci-mytho-baseballogists, this is easily recognizable as a foreshadowing of things to come: Some day, maybe years down the road, Texas will host our nation’s Capitol, and the Senators can regain their rightful name in Texas. After 1971, the shift of power to Texas must have seemed so imminent, that no one bothered to replace the D.C. team with a new one. After the big move of the U.S. Senate to Texas, and the elimination of the useless District of Columbia, who would root for a “Senators” team on the Anacostia River in mostly-black Southern Maryland?

Texas, still angry over not being allowed succession from the US, may feel it necessary to gradually move the Nation’s Capitol to Texas. It could happen. No wonder God has been trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored as far as Washington is concerned! However, all these behind the scenes power struggles were just a part of a bigger evolutionary scheme. God knows all, and bides His time. Over the years, since that first discovery that baseball has evolved, I have learned of many such evolutionary twists. Having a son has awakened me to many new realities, including some about baseball. Our trip together to Cooperstown confronted me with questions such as, “Who were the Boston Browns?” “Who were the New York Highlanders?” “The Boston Braves?”

These are questions that have baffled many baseball fans before me. One theory is that aliens from Planet X have picked up whole baseball stadiums and moved them to other places, perhaps indicating that these stadiums were placed there by aliens to begin with. This would explain why RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C., The Vet in Philadelphia, Synergy Field in Cincinnati, and old Riverfront Stadium in Pittsburgh, not to mention the Oakland Coluseum, all look like pods from the same mother ship, and not very convivial to human beings, either. How would they know what we like?

My son and I later discovered (with the help of Paul Dickson’s wonderful book, The New Dickson Baseball Dictionary) that about half of the teams now playing are related to one another through a complex evolutionary process of franchise evolution. During our trip to 14 baseball cities, we created a family tree to help us understand the stages of baseball evolution, but even now, the truth boggles my mind. (see chart)

What usually happens is that when a team leaves their city, they either take their name with them, or start with a new name appropriate to the new city. In the first case, they are replaced by a team bearing a new name. In the second case, they are replaced by a new team with the same name. With the Senators, it was by necessity the second case, since they would have otherwise become the Minnesota Senators (which would have then made it obvious that Minnesota Senator Hubert Humphrey was behind it.)

In either case, whenever this happens, one team splits into two, a kind of franchise mitosis. A good example is the Brooklyn Athletics. (The “Who?” you say?) They moved to Philadelphia in 1876, taking their name with them. I’m sure you’ve heard of them! They were replaced by the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1890 (after several evolutionary attempts). Then the Athletics moved in 1955 to Kansas City, again taking their name with them, and were never replaced in Philadelphia, although there is a memorial to all Philadelphia baseball stars of the past on a wall at The Vet in Philadelphia. Then the Athletics moved to Oakland, California in 1969, and were replaced by the Kansas City Royals. To curse them, God made their heads turn green and yellow like canaries, and at one point made their feet turn white. Then he sent them that earthquake in the middle of a World Series. Don’t mess with evolution!

The Brooklyn Dodgers, the A’s replacements from the 1800’s, had by then already moved to California, as had the New York Giants who were their new cross-town rivals. All of this moving and shuffling around leads to some very interesting and confusing relationships, as you can see.

The New York Metropolitans had appeared in 1883 and changed their name to the New York Giants in 1888. So when the Dodgers appeared in 1890, an instant cross-town rivalry was formed. All three teams ended up in California with the former Brooklyn A’s cross the bay from the former New York Giants who were replaced in 1962 by a new team calling themselves The New York Metropolitans (AKA “Mets” for short) in honor of the original Giants’ name.

Although the Mets and Giants never met in post-season play, (until the 2000 playoffs, after the writing of this article) two of the greatest Giant players of all time, Willie Mays and Casey Stengel, both joined the Mets at the end of their careers. However the A’s played their 1880’s replacements, the Dodgers several times in post-season play, including the 1974 World Series in which the A’s won in five games. The (formerly Brooklyn) A’s had defeated the (fomerly NY) Giants replacements the year before, the Mets, in seven games. The Mets played the (formerly Brooklyn) Dodgers in the 1988 playoffs. The Dodgers won, and went on to play the A’s (also formerly of Brooklyn) and beat them in five games. Call it “family feud,” but all of these teams are descendants of New York!

As most baseball fans know, the Big Red Machine, Cincinnati Reds, played the Red Sox in 1975, and Cincinnati won in seven games in spite of Fisk’s famous foul pole homer. But most don’t know that the two teams are brothers. Both teams split off from the Cincinnati Red Stockings a long time ago. The Cinci team moved to Boston in 1871 and weren’t replaced by the Cincinnati Reds until 1875.

In Franchise terms, the Red Sox date back to the creation of the Red Stockings in 1869, practically the Garden of Eden, in terms of baseball history. However they are not the oldest. The Baltimore Orioles, in franchise terms, date back to baseball Genesis itself, 1865, back to the Civil War. (The Civil War was the forerunner of the Yankees/Braves rivalry, for those who are weak in US history. The “Yankees” won that one too!)

How could the Orioles be the oldest of teams when the franchise of that name was just a minor league club until 1952? To understand it, you have to comprehend the principles of baseball evolution. The Boston Browns were formed in 1865, (about the time of Genesis, Chapter One, according to Mythobaseballogists) out of the rib of the Brooklyn Athletics who were Created by God earlier that year. The Browns were driven from the Garden of Baseball Paradise, Boston, and were sent to the cold barren reaches of Milwaukee, intact, in 1876 (or thereabouts). Then they wandered to St. Louis in 1902, and then to Baltimore in 1952, all without a break in continuity, except for the name change to Orioles after 89 years as “The Browns.” They replaced the missing Baltimore Orioles who had become the New York Highlanders in 1903, forerunner of the Yankees.

Of course, new baseball relationships sprung up in the vacuums left behind each “divorce.” You know how multiple divorces make family trees so complicated; the baseball family is no different. The Braves immediately filled the hole in Boston baseball left by the Browns in 1876. A Boston team appeared in 1871 called The Red Sox, but went through various name changes, and with the creation of the American League in 1903, officially became the Red Sox. In that same year, the Browns moved to St. Louis, (to play a clumsy Ginger Rogers to the Cardinals NL Fred Astaire) and the gap in Milwaukee was not filled until the Boston Braves moved to Milwaukee in 1953. To mythobaseballogists this phenomenon is highly reminiscent of the tribal custom where a widow marries the brother of her deceased husband; Milwaukee lost its beloved Boston Browns, and then remarried the Boston Braves as soon as he became available. The Browns ran up a 54 and 100 tab in St. Louis in 1953 then skipped town and became the Orioles and racked up the same bill in Baltimore in 1954. The AL slot in St. Louis, like that in Philadelphia, and the NL slot in Boston, has never been replaced.

But Milwaukee’s tribulations were not over. The Braves walked out and moved to greener pastures, Atlanta, in 1966. The undaunted Milwaukee replaced their pictures on the mantle with those of the American League Seattle Pilots, who became the AL Milwaukee Brewers in 1970. It was not the first time a bride-to-be changed religions for the sake of love! In 1969, baseball had even changed citizenship and moved the first of two teams to Canada, with the birth of the Montreal Expos in 1969. So as you see, baseball has gone through many transfigurations, long before “contraction” was conceived by Milwaukee as a way of getting back at Minnesota.

There are many anti-evolutionists who choose to ignore these hard facts and rely instead on the religious belief that baseball was created in its present form in the year 3000 BC, along with Adam and Eve and Babe Ruth. It is, like Babe Ruth’s “called shot,” an article of faith. Given the evidence I’ve seen, I’d say diplomatically speaking, that baseball did evolve, but that “the hand of God was in it.”



The Family Tree of Baseball Evolution

Boston Browns 1865 Cincinatti Red Stockings 1869 Brooklyn A’s 1865

Boston Red Sox 1871

Milwaukee Browns 1876 Cincinatti Reds 1875 Phila. A’s 1876

Boston Braves 1876

St. Louis Browns 1902 Brooklyn Dodgers 1890

Milwaukee Braves 1953

Baltimore Orioles 1954 K.C. A’s 1955

LA Dodgers 1958
Atlanta Braves 1966

Seattle Pilots 1969 K.C. Royals 1969

Milwaukee Brewers 1970 Oakland A’s 1969

Seattle Mariners 1977

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New York Metropolitans1883 Baltimore Orioles 1900 Wash. Senators 1885

New York Giants 1888 NY Highlanders 1903
NY Yankees 1909

San Fran. Giants 1958 Minn. Twins 1961
Wash. Senators 1961

New York Mets 1962
Texas Rangers 1971

Note: These teams were only marginally involved in the evolution of baseball:
Houston Colt .45’s formed 1962 became the Houston Astros in 1965; The St. Louis Cards were formed in 1899 and never moved. The Philadelphia Phillies were formed in 1883 and never moved.