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 Tuesday, December 7
November Archives
 
By Rob Neyer

 MONDAY, NOVEMBER 1
Saturday, the Cincinnati Reds traded Jeffrey Hammonds and Stan Belinda to the Colorado Rockies, in return for Dante Bichette and $1.9 million "in cash" (whatever that means).

To some, this might look like a lopsided trade. Belinda posted a 5.29 ERA last season. Hammonds hit 17 home runs in only 262 at-bats, but he'd never shown that kind of power before and has been injury-prone. Factor in the money, and as Chris Haft wrote in The Cincinnati Enquirer yesterday, "As for the deal's impact on the Reds' roster and lineup, it was a move they simply couldn't have turned down."

Or could they have? Bichette is 35 years old, and he's long been the poster boy for hitting at high altitude. Then again, we said the same things about Andres Galarraga when the Braves signed him after the 1997 season.

Galarraga was 36 when he played his first game for the Braves.
Bichette will be 36 when he plays his first game for the Reds.

Here are Galarraga's home/road splits for the three seasons prior to 1998, when he joined Atlanta: 

       Home OPS    Road OPS
1995     .909        .753
1996    1.143        .738
1997    1.011        .908
Totals  1.028        .801

Here are Bichette's home/road splits for the last three seasons: 

       Home OPS    Road OPS
1997    1.033        .645
1998    1.033        .694
1999     .943        .846
Totals  1.003        .728

While it's true that Bichette's home/road splits were significantly smaller this year than usual, it's unlikely that he suddenly "learned" to hit better on the road. If you look at Colorado hitters who play there for a number of years -- Bichette, Galarraga, Larry Walker, Vinny Castilla -- you'll generally find that each of them has had one season without huge home/road differences. That's just random weirdness.

At least I think it's just weirdness. Galarraga's big season for the Braves came one year after he performed fairly well on the road for the Rockies. Bichette, for the first time, did fairly well on the road in 1999, and perhaps Reds GM Jim Bowden didn't think Bichette's pre-1999 road stats were relevant.

"This guy's a hitting machine," Bowden said after acquiring Bichette. "He's a very special man with the bat. Whether at Coors Field or away, this man can produce."

Uh, sure, Jim.

Seriously, while it's OK to poke a little fun at Bowden for saying something so silly, that's just part of his job. When you trade for a player, you're supposed to justify the deal, even if you have to fudge the facts a little.

When the Braves signed Galarraga, many analysts who pay attention to statistics -- including this one -- predicted a substantial decline in the Big Cat's stats. Of course, that's not what happened. In 1997 with the Rockies, Galarraga hit 41 homers and posted a .974 OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging percentage). In 1998 with the Braves, Galarraga hit 44 homers and posted a .992 OPS.

Yes, Galarraga got better after leaving Coors Field ... and Turner Field has not been a good hitter's park in its short history, or at least it wasn't in 1998, Galarraga's only season there.

So now we get another test case. We get to see what happens when a middle-aged hitter who's enjoyed his best seasons playing for Colorado takes up residence in another ballpark. Any ballpark.

If Bichette succeeds beyond even Jim Bowden's wildest quotes, will it "prove" anything? Nope. But it'll certainly throw the fear of God into sabermetricians all across this great land. (One analyst has theorized that playing in Colorado leads to physiological changes that help a hitter after he leaves, but I'm highly skeptical of that notion.)

If Bichette fails miserably, hitting like a one-eyed shortstop loaded with cough syrup, will it "prove" anything? Nope. But it'll help me sleep at night.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 3

So after the announcement that Ken Griffey wants to be traded and the Mariners will accommodate him, where does Junior go? At the risk of being boring, I'm going to have to go with the consensus opinion, which is that there is really just one great fit here, and it's the Atlanta Braves. Let's look at the reasons why the Braves would be good for Griffey, and vice versa:

  • The Braves train in Kissimmee, Florida, an easy drive from Griffey's home in Orlando.

  • The Braves play half their games in Atlanta, an easy flight from Griffey's home in Orlando. When the club has a day off, he can zip home for a few hours of quality time with the kids.

  • The Braves can afford to pay Griffey what he's going to be making by 2001, somewhere in the neighborhood of $20 million per season. It won't be easy for them, but they can do it.

  • Griffey, of course, gets to play with a team that's virtually guaranteed of a postseason berth, season after season after season. Of course, one might argue that if he's really serious about wanting to spend more time with his family, then he wouldn't want to play for a good team, because that means his season might not end until late October.

    Sorry, just kidding. A lot of people, I suspect, will be a bit skeptical about Griffey's professed desire to spend more time with his family. But when it comes to a guy and his kids, I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. It seems to me that many great players are great, in part, because they are incredibly self-absorbed, and thus don't make good parents. Junior may be self-absorbed, but not in the way that Ty Cobb and Pete Rose were, because the great majority of Junior's talent is God-given. He genuinely seems to enjoy children, and he may genuinely miss the little tykes in February and March, when he's in Arizona and they're in Florida.

    Anyway, let's assume that Griffey does indeed end up with the Braves. What will it take to get him?

    The most obvious component of any package is Andruw Jones. He and Griffey are both Gold Glove center fielders, and you don't waste a Gold Glove center fielder in left field. Whatever the Mariners do, they absolutely have to get at least one player with superstar potential, and I believe that describes Jones. Superficially, his hitting stats weren't fantastic this season, but I like the direction in which he's headed.

    In 1997, Jones hit home runs and drew walks -- 18 homers and 56 walks to accompany 399 at-bats -- but he didn't hit for average, just .231.

    In 1998, Jones hit home runs and his average was up -- 31 homers and .271 -- but he drew only 40 walks while playing nearly every game, so his OBP was just .321, not really acceptable for a major league outfielder.

    In 1999, Jones was solid in all areas. Not great, but solid. Playing in all 162 games, he batted .275, hit 26 home runs and drew 70 walks. Do those numbers make him a superstar? No, they don't. But he's still only 22 years old. If Jones can improve across the board next season, all of sudden you're looking at a .300 hitter with 30-plus home runs and 85 walks. And that, my friends, is a superstar, especially when you throw in that Gold Glove.

    But of course, this Mr. Jones will not be enough, and the M's have plenty of other holes to fill. That Seattle almost reached the .500 mark last season, despite zero production at four positions -- left field, right field, third base, first base -- is further testament to the greatness of Messrs. Griffey and Rodriguez.

    The Braves aren't giving up their third baseman, and they don't have any corner outfielders to spare. So that leaves first base, and one suspects Atlanta would be willing to deal Ryan Klesko or Randall Simon. Neither of them come wart-free, however. Klesko's relatively old and expensive, and he's never been quite as good as we thought he'd be. Simon posted the best OBP of his professional career in 1999, and at 24 there's no telling if that improvement was a fluke, or a new skill. Still, either of them would be better than Raul Ibanez.

    All right, we're almost finished. Another player and a bag of baseballs, and we can do a little business. The name of Kevin Millwood has been floated, but I'll be surprised if the Braves would willingly part with him. I mean, if your team is traditionally built on pitchers like John Smoltz, and you've got a younger version of John Smoltz, do you trade him?

    Maybe you do. After all, with Odalis Perez and Bruce Chen around, the Braves do have a surplus of pitching talent. If not, though, let's look elsewhere, then. At last report, the number of quality arms in the Mariner bullpen stood at exactly ... zero. OK, maybe not zero. But close enough. Kevin McGlinchy would look mighty fine in a Seattle uniform. And if that's still not enough, the Braves would probably part with a young starter like Perez or Chen. I suspect the nitty-gritty in a Braves-Mariners deal will involve whether or not Seattle gets a proven starter.

    Aside from receiving three or four nice young players in a deal like this, the departure of Griffey means the M's have a nice chunk of extra change to play around with. After spending about $50 million on salaries in 1999, they've budgeted about $65 million for 2000. Subtract Junior's $10 million salary from the equation, and the Mariners look might flush, like Pete Rose after he hit the Pik Six at Turfway Park.

    One might, if one were the charitable sort, pity poor Pat Gillick. He's been the Mariners GM for all of -- what, a week? -- and he's already faced with the move that might well define his tenure in Seattle.

    On the other hand, an optimist might see this as a grand opportunity. Gillick's making good dough to deal with stuff like this, and he'll be considered a genius if the M's win a division title next year.

    There was, of course, another huge announcement Tuesday, the nine-player deal that sent Juan Gonzalez to Texas. We'll analyze that one later this week, because it deserves the better part of a column all to itself.

    FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 5

    I receive lots of e-mail. Lots and lots and lots of it. So much, in fact, that I employ three men and a small boy to screen all of it. They let the good stuff through, delete the worthless messages, and send the death threats to the Secret Service for further analysis.

    When you get a lot of mail, you tend to see both sides of every issue. So when the Rangers traded Juan Gonzalez and a case of sunflower seeds to the Tigers, and received four major leaguers and two prospects in return, I assumed the reaction would be mixed.

    I was wrong. Despite losing a player who has won two MVP awards in the last four seasons, Rangers fans seem pleased with the deal. And despite gaining a player who has won two MVP awards in the last four years, Tigers fans seem aghast. As they should.

    True, a slightly advanced class of fan reads this column, but nobody thinks Tigers GM Randy Smith has made a good deal. You know, I can't help but wonder if some of this sentiment is due to Gonzalez's perceived attitude problems. That stuff doesn't really bother me about him. Yeah, he sulks sometimes, and he can be self-absorbed to the point where he's like a big, narcissistic sponge. But he does produce, and it's said that he's a tireless worker who wants to improve all facets of his game.

    That said, you want to talk about a move that has huge backfire potential, this is it, my friends. If Detroit does not, at the very least, reach the postseason next year, this might be one of the worst trades of all time, and certainly the worst in franchise history. Because if Gonzalez signs a free-agent deal with another team after the 2000 campaign, it'll mean the Tigers surrendered four or five good players to rent a right fielder for one unsuccessful season.

    But will Gonzalez get them to the playoffs? The Tigers won 69 games last season. The American League might well be weak next season, and it wouldn't shocking if 90 wins are enough for the wild card. So let's assume the Tigers need to add 21 victories for a shot at the postseason.

    If you believe the statistics, the presence of Gonzalez adds between three and six of those victories, assuming he plays at least 150 games. (Incidentally, he's only done that twice in his nine years as an everyday player.) Some evidence suggests that Gonzalez will help his teammates a little, so let's say it's six extra wins. That's generous, but I'm in a generous mood.

    All right, from where are those other 15 victories going to come? The pitching rotation will include Jeff Weaver (9-12, 5.55), Brian Moehler (10-16, 5.04) and Dave Mlicki (14-12, 4.60), along with perhaps Seth Greisinger (didn't pitch in 1999 because of injury) and Dave Borkowski (2-6, 6.10), or maybe erstwhile reliever C.J. Nitkowski (4-5, 4.30) if the Tigers think they need a lefty.

    Sorry, folks, but that simply doesn't look like a wild card-winning rotation to me. The Tigers also have question marks in left field and center field. Their shortstop can't hit, and you don't know what their first baseman is going to do.

    And what happens if the Tigers don't win in 2000? Well, the first thing that will happen is that Randy Smith will be fired so fast, he'll have to sneak back into the ballpark, in the dead of night just to clean out his desk. And then Juan Gonzalez, in one of the biggest ripoffs in baseball history, will sign a ridiculous contract for about $18 million per season, but not with the Tigers. Although the Tigers are already talking about moving the fences to suit Juan Gone's power stroke, he'll be long gone by 2001.

    Meanwhile, the Rangers are still in good shape, assuming Gabe Kapler develops like we all think he will. Of course, Randy Smith's generosity knew few bounds, as he also donated a fireballing relief pitcher (Francisco Cordero), a solid pitching prospect (Alan Webb), a once-brilliant lefty starter (Justin Thompson) and a top utility infielder (Frank Catalanotto) to the Texas cause. It wouldn't shock me if, in two years, all five of these guys were making big contributions for the Rangers. Meanwhile, the Tigers will be lucky if Danny Patterson is a reliable set-up man.

    This is the kind of deal that can break a franchise's back. It's a shame for Tigers fans that owner Mike Illitch doesn't know enough about baseball to have vetoed this one.

    Monday's discussion of Andres Galarraga and Dante Bichette was incomplete. As you might remember, both showed a huge disparity between their stats at Coors Field and their stats away from Coors Field. Here's a quick refresher:

                         Home OPS    Road OPS
Big Cat, 1995-1997     1.028       .801
Bichette, 1997-1999    1.003       .728

    Taken together, Galarraga and Bichette were roughly 25 percent less productive on the road. A typical player will see his production fall off approximately four percent when he leaves home.

    Two years ago in a Hot Stove Heater, I posited that while Coors Field obviously helps the Rockies hitters when they're at home, perhaps it hurts them when they're on the road. How could it do that? Well, maybe they make extreme adjustments at home, subconsciously, and those adjustments actually work to their detriment elsewhere.

    Anyway, it's a theory.

    MONDAY, NOVEMBER 8

    There are a number of viable Rookie of the Year candidates in the American League, three hitters and three pitchers. And it's kind of neat, because among the three pitchers are a solid starter (Freddy Garcia), a solid closer (Billy Koch) and a fantastic middle reliever (Jeff Zimmerman).

    When it comes to starters versus relievers, I'm strongly prejudiced in favor of starters. But it's not just me who's prejudiced. The Cy Young Award rarely goes to a relief pitcher. And top closers generally make about two-thirds the money that a top starter gets.

    So while Koch might well have been the fourth- or fifth-best closer in the American League, Garcia might well have been the sixth- or seventh-best starter in the American League. And that makes Garcia the more valuable pitcher, at least in this reporter's opinion.

    But what about Zimmerman? Back in July, Zimmerman had been so outstanding that he looked like a sure bet to win the award. But he got hit hard a few times in the last couple months of the season, and while he still finished with fantastic numbers -- 9-3 with a 2.36 ERA and 24 holds -- Keith Foulke was better, and I just can't see giving a major award to the second-best set-up man in the league.

    Among the pitchers, then, Garcia is our man. But what of the hitters? There are three guys who will draw at least a modicum of support in some quarters: Kansas City's Carlos Beltran, Chicago's Chris Singleton, and Boston's Brian Daubach.

              Pos   AB  Runs  RBI   OPS            
Beltran    CF  663   112  108  .791    
Singleton  CF  496    72   72  .818
Daubach    1B  381    61   73  .922

    Daubach's numbers were excellent, but they came almost entirely against right-handed pitchers, and you want to see the Rookie of the Year award go to a full-time player. That leaves Beltran and Singleton, both of whom are supposed to be fine defensive center fielders. Singleton's OPS is slightly better than Beltran's, but Beltran owns big edges in at-bats and all the counting stats. Given that Beltran also performed well with runners on base, he seems like a clear choice over Singleton.

    So it's Garcia against Beltran. Beltran was just the eighth rookie in major league history to score 100 runs and drive in 100 runs, and the first since Fred Lynn in 1975. He led all American League rookies in hits, runs, RBI, home runs, total bases, stolen bases and extra-base hits. He recorded 16 baserunner kills (a.k.a. assists) and, according to Baseball Weekly, "made at least a half dozen over-the-wall catches to rob opponents of home runs."

    Those are all fine qualifications, and in some seasons I'd be happy to give him a nice trophy. However, it's also true that Beltran's on-base percentage (.337) was lower than the American League average (.347), and his slugging percentage (.447) was just slightly higher than the league average. Put together, his .791 OPS (on-base plus slugging) was barely better than league average (.787). Outfielders, even good defensive outfielders, are expected to produce. And while he may develop into a great hitter, Beltran wasn't a great hitter in 1999.

    Garcia, on the other hand, was significantly better than an average American League hitter. He won 17 games (for a mediocre team), fifth in the league and as many as Orlando Hernandez, Charles Nagy and David Wells. Garcia's 4.07 ERA was 16 percent better than the league and ninth among starters.

    Given all this, I've got to support Garcia, by just a nose, over Beltran.

    Things aren't quite as complicated in the National League, where no rookie starting pitcher finished among the top 29 in ERA (Matt Clement was No. 30, with a 4.48 ERA). No rookie reliever finished among the top 15 in saves. However, Cincinnati's Scott Williamson ranked 16th in the NL with 19 saves, and he also posted an outstanding 2.41 ERA. But like Zimmerman, Williamson wore down some late in the season, and was able to pitch only 10 innings in September.

    So let's focus on the hitters, because it's one of them who will be Rookie of the Year. Making the comparison easier? Of the four candidates we'll examine, three are middle infielders: Pittsburgh's Warren Morris, Milwaukee's Ron Belliard, and Florida's Alex Gonzalez. To that trio, we can add Preston Wilson, another Marlin.

              Pos   AB  Runs  RBI   OPS            
Belliard   2B  457    60   58  .808    
Gonzalez   SS  560    81   59  .738
Morris     2B  511    65   73  .787
Wilson     CF  482    67   71  .852

    If there's a compelling argument for one of these over another, I'm not seeing it. I suppose we can eliminate Belliard, because his production wasn't great and he played less than the other guys. But to be completely honest, I just don't know who actually deserves the award.

    My vote -- and for the first time, I'm glad I don't have a vote -- would go to Wilson. He and Gonzalez might split some actual votes, and leaving Williamson and Morris will battle for the top two spots.

    MONDAY, NOVEMBER 15
    For the most part, this column is about ones and zeroes, right and wrong, yesses and nos, blacks and whites. People want strong opinions when they read a column, so I generally try to come down strongly on one side of an issue or the other. I consider the evidence, decide what I believe, then list as much supporting evidence as possible while often giving short shrift to the evidence on the other side. This, even though I usually know The Truth lies somewhere in the middle.

    But when it comes to the National League Cy Young Award, there's no right or wrong answer. Or, rather, there are two right answers and zero wrong answers, because Mike Hampton and Randy Johnson both pitched outstanding baseball in 1999. 
              W-L   ERA   Innings   K    BB                      
Johnson  17-9  2.48     272    364   70
Hampton  22-4  2.90     239    177  101

    Pitching in a basically neutral park, Johnson led the National League in ERA, while Hampton was third while pitching in a pretty good pitcher's park. Hampton, of course, has the big edge in victories and winning percentage, but you all know that Johnson went through a stretch were he received almost no run support (Arizona was shut out four straight times in one stretch as Johnson went 0-3 despite a 1.41 ERA).

    In addition to the ERA, the strikeouts are also a factor. Why do strikeouts matter? Because if a pitcher is striking out a huge number of batters, that means he's doing more of the work and his defense is doing less. And in Johnson's case that really did matter, considering that behind him was a utility infielder playing shortstop, and an ex-shortstop playing second base.

    There's an interesting little footnote to the Hampton-versus-Johnson debate, and it doesn't have anything to do with pitching, per se. Hampton, you see, batted .311 in 1999, with a pretty decent .805 OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging percentage). Now, without actually going through the play-by-play for all of his starts, it's not unreasonable to assume that Hampton's hitting helped him win an extra two or three games. And if you'll allow that a pitcher's job is essentially to do things that put his team in a position to win, then perhaps that .311 batting average, .373 on-base percentage and .432 slugging percentage should have been factored into the Cy Young voter's thinking.

    That said, I suspect that the instructions given to Cy Young voters refer to pitching effectiveness, and if that's the case, then I would have voted for The Big Unit, too. But either of them would have been a fine and justifiable choice.

    Oh, that Gold Glove ...

    Now, getting back to the ones and zeroes ... The selection of Rafael Palmeiro as the American League's Gold Glove first baseman is the worst in the 43-year history of the awards.

    For sure, there have been other silly ones. In support of Jim Kaat's Hall of Fame candidacy, people like to mention his 16 straight Gold Gloves. Kaat was a great fielder, there's no question about that. In 1962, he led American League pitchers with 72 assists (in 269 innings), and picked up his first Gold Glove. By 1969, it appears that nobody even bothered bunting the ball when Kaat was pitching, because he recorded only 29 assists (in 242 innings), but won his eighth straight Gold Glove anyway.

    However, that Gold Glove in 1969 deserves its own display case in the "Huh?" Hall of Fame, as Kaat also led the American League with eight errors, and posted an .826 fielding percentage. Three years later, Kaat won his 11th straight Gold Glove, even though he missed most of the season and pitched only 113 innings.

    A couple of other head-scratchers ... In 1964, Philadelphia's Ruben Amaro won the Gold Glove at shortstop ... as a utility infielder. In addition to his 79 games at shortstop, Amaro also played 58 games at first base. Yes, he is not only one of the few SS/1B in major league history, he's also the only SS/1B to win a Gold Glove while doing it. The Phillies were so impressed, they knocked him back to 60 games at short in 1965.

    Joe Rudi, a key member of Charlie Finley's Oakland A's in the early 1970s, was a brilliant left fielder. Not many left fielders win Gold Gloves, but beginning in 1974, Rudi won three straight. The only problem is that he wasn't really an outfielder in 1975. The A's had a surplus of outfielders and a shortage of first basemen that season, so Rudi played 91 games at first and 44 in the outfield. The managers and coaches, in their infinite wisdom, gave him an outfield Gold Glove anyway.

    For a more recent example, one need look no further than Greg Maddux, who's now won 10 straight Gold Gloves, even though he pays no more attention to baserunners than a moose pays to a mosquito.

    So who should have been the Gold Glove winner at first base in the American League this year? First off, it's important to note that none of the other choices were good ones. Second, it's important to note that all would have been better than Palmeiro.

    Doug Mientkiewicz is reportedly a wonderful first baseman, as long as you don't let him swing the bat. But rookies who (1) play for lousy teams, and (2) can't hit, don't win Gold Gloves. Plus, Mientkiewicz played only 110 games at first base this year. (Granted, that's 82 more than Palmeiro ...)

    Statistics aside, David Segui looks as good as any first baseman I've ever seen. But after getting traded from Seattle to Toronto in the middle of the 1999 season, Segui DH'd for a while, and then he got hurt. Thus, he played 94 games at first base this year. (Granted, that's 66 more than Palmeiro ...)

    Those are the good fielders. If you don't like them, you could have your pick of adequate or worse defensive players, full-time guys like Tino Martinez, Jason Giambi, Carlos Delgado, Jim Thome, Fred McGriff and Tony Clark. Any of these fellows would have been a better choice than Palmeiro, although the consensus seems to be that Martinez is the best of the bunch.

    The point is, the managers and coaches had eight or 10 choices ... and instead, they went off the board, and rewarded a guy who deserves a Gold Glove about as much as Brooke Shields deserves her own TV show.

    So what's to be done? Should the players be included in the voting process? Or perhaps the writers? Well, it probably couldn't hurt. But there are going to be poor choices no matter who does the voting. The obvious thing is to institute a rule that to be eligible for Gold Glove consideration, you have to start at least half your team's games at that position (unless you're a pitcher, of course). Unfortunately, such a rule would probably only come into play every half-century or so ... and it's already happened this half-century, which brings to mind that old saw about shutting the barn door after the cows have escaped.

    WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17
    In this writer's opinion, there are two MVP candidates in the National League and three in the American League.

    Now, don't get me wrong. There are more than five players worthy of some consideration. Shoot, there's room for 10 names on each ballot. But I believe that only five players have legitimate arguments for actually winning the awards.

    We'll get to the American Leaguers on Thursday. In the National League, the two players are Chipper Jones and Jeff Bagwell. Here are their Triple Crown stats, along with three metrics that add to the discussion:

              Avg  HR  RBI  Runs   OPS    OW%
Bagwell  .304  42  126   143  1.045  .806
Chipper  .319  45  110   116  1.074  .822

    Looking at these numbers, it's a little surprising that Jones is even discussed as an MVP candidate, because MVP voters like big numbers, and Bagwell has significant edges over Jones in both RBI and runs. The RBI difference is easily explainable: Bagwell batted behind Craig Biggio, Jones batted behind Gerald Williams. The difference in runs scored is a little tougher, but they posted similar on-base percentages (.454 for Bagwell, .441 for Jones), and both are good baserunners.

    Looking at the other numbers, OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging percentage) and OW% (offensive winning percentage), it's virtually a dead heat.

    Now is when a fair number of Houstonians will cry, "But Bagwell got killed by the Astrodome!" That, he did. That, he did. Bagwell batted .337 on the road, with an astounding 1.179 OPS. At home, he hit just .271 with a relatively anemic .899 OPS. Of his 42 home runs, 30 home runs came on the road. But was this the Astrodome's fault, or Bagwell's?

    Here are some "ballpark factors" for Houston's Astrodome and Atlanta's Turner Field:

    Run Factors
                1999  1997-1999 
Astrodome        93       93
Turner Field     87       94

    What do those numbers mean? In 1999, there were 93 percent as many runs scored in Houston's home games as in Houston's road games (intra-league games only). That means that the Astrodome, as you would have guessed, is a good pitcher's park. But look at Turner Field, which played as an extreme pitcher's park in 1999. And if we look at a larger sample, the last three seasons combined, we see that overall the two parks had almost identical effects on run production.

    What else do those numbers mean? They mean that while Bagwell might well have performed significantly better on the road in 1999, he doesn't deserve any extra credit relative to Chipper Jones, who labored under the same sort of handicap. So let's get back to the basic numbers.

    The percentage performance stats are essentially identical, and I've already explained away Bagwell's edges in runs and RBI ... or have I? When you're picking an MVP, it's worth looking at how players performed in crucial situations. Now, if you've been reading this column for long, you know I don't really believe that players have inherent abilities to hit in "the clutch." Nevertheless, if a player does hit in the clutch in a particular season, he deserves credit for doing so ... and in 1999, Jeff Bagwell hit particularly well in the clutch. With runners in scoring position, he slugged .730, and in the late innings of close games he posted a .547 on-base percentage (quite likely because teams wouldn't pitch to him). Here is the OPS for both players in both situations:

              ScoringPos  Close&Late
Bagwell     1.246        1.165
Chipper     1.076        1.258

    Another slight edge to Bagwell, if you're willing to believe that such things matter. On the other hand, Bagwell apparently had the MVP wrapped up by the end of July, but slumped down the stretch, and didn't manage to slug .500 in either August or September. Meanwhile, Jones was outstanding after the All-Star break, slugging .693 and scoring 56 runs in 70 games (nd you know what he did against the Mets in late September). So if you think a player should get extra credit for performance in the heat of the pennant race, Chipper gets an edge there.

    All in all, I'm willing to consider the hitting a wash. That leaves the defense. Normally, if you've got a first baseman and a third baseman who hit the same, the third baseman is more valuable because it's easier to find a first baseman who can hit. (In fact, that's particularly true in this specific case. Had Bagwell gone down, the Astros had a wonderful replacement, Daryle Ward, waiting in the wings. But if Chipper had been disabled, the Braves held only Howard Battle in reserve.)

    But it's a little murky in this situation, because Bagwell is a solid defensive first baseman, while Jones did not have a good year with the glove. He does have decent range, but fielded just .950 and somehow managed to start only 11 double plays all season. So while Jones gets points just for being a third baseman, Bagwell gets points for being good with the glove, although he's not a Gold Glove-caliber first baseman at this point.

    Yes, Bagwell drove in more runs, and he scored a lot more. Oh, and in case you're wondering, the Braves actually scored 17 more runs than the Astros in 1999, so it's hard to argue that Bagwell had more "protection" in the lineup. But, add it all it up and Chipper gets the nod by the slimmest of margins. I think.

    All that said, the situation here is like the Cy Young candidates in the National League, in that you really can't go wrong with either of them. I think Jones will win because of what he did down the stretch, and he's certainly a worthy choice.

    THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 18
    Yesterday, I wrote that there are three legitimate MVP candidates in the American League. However, when the new Baseball Weekly arrived in my mailbox, I discovered that my friend Mat Olkin listed Roberto Alomar second on his list of MVP candidates. Mat's one of the smartest people I know, so I will add Alomar to my list. Thus, now we've got four candidates, and they are ... representing The Pitchers ... Pedro Martinez ... representing The Big RBI Men ... Manny Ramirez, and ... representing The Slugging Middle Infielders ... Derek Jeter and Roberto Alomar.

    Martinez and Ramirez are, of course, the standouts in their respective classes. I'm sure some of you will wonder, why Jeter and Alomar, and no Nomar? The answer is simple and compelling. Jeter played 23 more games than Garciaparra. That's three-and-a-half weeks worth of games, my friends.

    Who will win the MVP? I make Ramirez the slight favorite, because he'll pull most of the idiot vote and some of the smart vote. What's the "idiot vote"? That's the guys who, year in and year out, automatically give their MVP vote to the hitter with the most RBI (especially if he plays for a good team), and their Cy Young vote to the pitcher with the most victories. Those are the guys who thought Hank Sauer and Andre Dawson were MVPs (sorry, Cub fans), the guys who thought Pete Vuckovich and LaMarr Hoyt were Cy Young winners. That's the guys who say things like "run producer" and "knows how to win."

    But the funny thing is, the idiots are right this year, or at least they're right enough. I mean, even aside from the RBI, Ramirez was awesome. He had the best OPS (on-base percentage + slugging percentage) by a long ways, and his offensive winning percentage was also tops in the league. He led the AL with a .663 slugging percentage, and finished a close second (to league leader Edgar Martinez) with a .442 on-base percentage. Most impressive of all -- at least to your typical MVP voter -- Ramirez drove in 165 runs despite playing only 147 games. Yes, he benefited greatly from the three hitters in front of him, those being Kenny Lofton (.405 on-base percentage), Omar Vizquel (.397 OBP) and Roberto Alomar (.422 OBP). But a 1.105 OPS is a 1.105 OPS, and nobody had a better one.

    First, let's focus on Ramirez vs. Martinez, because they represent the classic battle between outstanding slugger and outstanding pitcher, like Rice/Guidry in 1978 and Mattingly/Clemens in 1986. Then we'll match Jeter against Alomar, with the winners squaring off at the end. It'll be our own little MVP tournament.

    Using a somewhat dated version of Bill James' Runs Created formula, we estimate that Ramirez created 157 runs for the Indians in 1999. Given that Ramirez played 147 games and the number of outs (373) that he made, we can estimate that a team of nine Manny Ramirezes would have scored 11.3 runs per game.

    The average American League right fielder (including Ramirez) created 6.35 runs per 27 outs (i.e. per game) last year. Since most teams don't have a league-average right fielder sitting around with nothing to do, we assume "replacement level" at about one run per 27 outs worse than the league average. One run less would be 5.35.

    However, we have to adjust for the effect of the ballpark on the runs scored. Jacobs Field is an good hitter's park, increasing runs scored by four to five percent:

    Run Factors
              1999  1997-1999 
Fenway Park    107     102
Jacobs Field   104     105

    I tossed in Fenway because we'll need it later. Oh, and before we go any further, let me explain what these numbers mean. Yes, I know I went through this yesterday, but, if my e-mail is any indication, I didn't explain it well enough, as a number of readers asked if Atlanta's pitching staff has something to do with the low run factors at Turner Field. The answer is, "No, not really." The run factors are based on all runs scored by all teams. For example, that 107 for Fenway Park in 1999 means that there were seven percent more runs scored in Red Sox home games, by both teams, than in Red Sox road games. And the Red Sox pitchers worked in both the home games and the road games.

    Anyway, you can see that Jacobs Field is a great hitter's park, "inflating" run production by about five percent. We halve that five percent since the Indians only play half their games at home. Thus, our "replacement level" right fielder in Cleveland would presumably create not 5.35 runs per 27 outs, but about 5.47 runs per 27 outs.

    Ramirez made 373 outs in 1999, so the replacement player, at 5.47 runs per 27 outs, would likely have contributed about 75 runs to the Indians offense. So how many runs did Ramirez add? The math is easy: 157 - 75 = 82. Otherwise known as "a LOT."

    But wait, we're not through yet, because Ramirez plays the field. You read different things about his defense in right field, but I think it's fairly safe to say that (1) he's gotten a lot better over the years, and (2) he's still not a good right fielder. Giving him the benefit of the doubt -- and for the sake of simplicity -- let's say he's average, maybe a tad below. Throw in the occasional baserunning gaffe, and we'll take away three runs, leaving Ramirez at +79. That's still a LOT.

    OK, now Pedro Martinez. He allowed 56 runs (including unearned) in 213 innings.

    The average American League pitcher allowed 5.31 runs per nine innings. Making the same assumption that we did with hitters, let's assume that a replacement-level pitcher would have been one run worse, allowing 6.31 runs per nine innings. Ah, but we also have to adjust for Fenway Park, a good hitter's park. Again, we'll make an adjustment of 2.5 percent, which in this case is a balance between the one- and three-year run factors listed in the table above.

    Now we're up to 6.47 runs per nine innings for our beleaguered replacement pitcher. There are two problems with this. One, it's hard to imagine Dan Duquette putting up with a pitcher that awful, and the Red Sox did have some talent in the minors. Two, it seems likely to me that the Red Sox defense was better than average. How else to explain Pat Rapp, not to mention Kent Mercker, Bret Saberhagen, et cetera? So let's drop our replacement pitcher half a run, to 5.97 runs per nine innings.

    If Replacement Pitcher allowed 5.97 runs per nine innings and, like Martinez, pitched 213 1/3 innings, he'd have allowed 141 runs.

    Let's sum everything up:

                      Ramirez   Martinez
Runs                157        56
Replacement Runs     75       141
Total               +82       -85

    Three runs difference between them. Quite frankly, given all the estimates we've been making, three runs is well inside the margin of error. If either had played the full season, then he would win this battle handily. But neither did. Ramirez only played 147 games, and Martinez started only 29 times. Essentially, they both missed about 10 percent of their ideal playing time.

    Since the method has left these two so close, I'll fall back on a line of reasoning that I generally disparage ... Where would their teams be without them? Without Ramirez, the Indians would have won the American League Central by 13 games rather than 21.5. Without Martinez, the Red Sox get aced out by Oakland for the wild card.

    So is Pedro the MVP? We've yet to hear from Jeter and Alomar.

            Games   RC   RC/27   OPS            
Jeter    158   157    9.63   989
Alomar   159   139    8.74   955

    And remember, Jacobs Field is a good hitter's park. Yankee Stadium? Pitcher's park.

    To me, there's only one argument for Alomar, and it requires running down Jeter's defense. The numbers above suggest that Jeter was a more productive hitter than Alomar in 1999. Throw in the fact that shortstop is traditionally a defensive player's position, more so than second base, and the choice seems fairly clear. Ah, but there's the rub. While Alomar is a Gold Glover, Jeter ... well, we're not really sure about him, are we? Tim McCarver and every Yankee fan raves about his defense, but Jeter's defensive numbers -- such as assists -- don't really support the notion of him as a great fielder.

    This is one case where I don't trust the numbers. The Yankees win 100-plus games every year, and the pitching staff is excellent every year. Are they doing this despite Jeter being at shortstop, or because he's at shortstop. At this point, I'm going with the latter. And if Jeter's a little better than average defensively, then I have to think he was slightly more valuable than Alomar in 1999.

    What's more, I also would rate Jeter as more valuable than Pedro Martinez. He played nearly every day, and his OPS was the fifth-best in the American League, even better than Shawn Green's (which makes one wonder, what might Jeter be worth on the open market?). Am I prejudiced against starting pitchers? A little bit, but I'm especially prejudiced against starting pitchers who don't even manage to start 30 games.

    If we run Jeter through the replacement-level test, we find out he has created 157 runs. A replacement-level shortstop creates about 4.84 runs per 27 outs, so a replacement-level shortstop creates 62 runs in same number of outs Jeter made.

    157 - 62 = +95 = Jeter MVP

    And you know, I think Jeter just might sneak in there. It's possible that Ramirez and Alomar will split the Cleveland vote, and Martinez and Garciaparra will split the Red Sox vote, leaving Jeter to collect nearly of the Yankee vote for himself. But if I were a betting man, I'd bet the voting goes like this: Ramirez, Martinez, Jeter, Garciaparra, Alomar.

    FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 19

    Before we jump into the fray, let me propose a moratorium on Texans complaining of national media bias. Now that Rangers have garnered three MVP awards -- undeservedly, in this writer's opinion -- in the last four years, it's fairly safe to say that while the nation's baseball writers might well be biased, it's not against anybody from the Lone Star State. (And on a personal note, some of you might be shocked to learn that I've never lived east of South Bend, Indiana. I just happen to like great players, whether they play in New York or Texas or Timbuktu.)

      Hey,

      How does it feel to have devoted several thousand words and man hours to your analysis of the MVP race in the AL, without saying one word about the eventual winner?

      Mike F. Pipkin
      Affiliation: Texas Rangers fan

    How does it feel? To tell you the truth, it feels pretty embarrassing. I mean, it's not like I've never considered Rodriguez in the MVP discussion. Late in the season, I devoted an entire column -- or was it two? -- to Pudge and his MVP credentials, or lack thereof. I won't rehash those arguments here (at least not all of them), but if you're interested, that column is accessible in the August or September Archives. Frankly, I simply didn't consider him a worthy candidate.

      Rob,

      Couldn't believe he wasn't on your list. Rodriguez is already one of the top two or three greatest defensive catchers of all time and he had a monster offensive season.

      Yeah, yeah, yeah, walks and double plays. But look at it this way -- every team has to have a catcher (otherwise you get a lot of passed balls, as Casey Stengel once observed). You can argue that the VALUE of a player is how much better he is than the next guy capable of playing his position. By that standard of marginal drop-off, Ivan is the clear winner. Which would you rather have, the best shortstop in the AL and the second-best catcher or the best catcher and the second-best shortstop? Same for outfielders. He deserves the award and he should have at least been on your list.

      -- David Kensinger

    You argument is an interesting one, and of course I used the idea of standard marginal dropoff yesterday, although I didn't bother running Rodriguez through the method. I'm not going to do that today, either, but I can't help but think that you're probably wrong. True, there aren't a lot of good catchers in the American League. But if we broaden our horizons a little bit, we'll find all sorts of quality backstops.

    Mike Piazza was a better hitter than Pudge Rodriguez. Jason Kendall would have been, if he hadn't busted his ankle. Dave Nilsson had a higher OPS than Pudge. Javy Lopez probably would have been better, if he hadn't messed up his knee. I know, woulda coulda shoulda, but the point is that there are catchers who can hit, just as there are shortstops and second basemen who can hit.

    But here's my favorite, courtesy of my new hero, Baseball America's David Rawnsley ... The Gold Glove catcher in the American League posted a .914 OPS, and was rewarded with an MVP award. The Gold Glove catcher in the National League, Mike Lieberthal, also posted a .914 OPS, and was rewarded with ... not a single MVP vote, not even a measly 10th-place spot on a single voter's ballot.

    So when you say that Rodriguez had a monster offensive season, I'm wondering, "Compared to what?" He had an excellent season, especially for a catcher, but relative to other players in 1999, or relative to other great catchers of the past, how monsterish was it, really?

    If, as I think you would prefer, great defensive catchers who hit are worthy of the MVP every year, Johnny Bench should have won five or six of them, rather than two. Now, Bench, there's a guy who had some monster seasons.

      Let me get this straight:

      Pudge Rodriguez was 15th in the league in at-bats, fifth in hits, 45th in 2B, 11th in home runs, 14th in RBI, 42nd [!] in OBP, ninth in slugging average, 17th in OPS, and 38th in offensive winning percentage among everyday American League players. His greatest strength is that he throws out baserunners, and everyone now realizes that stolen bases don't matter that much any more.

      Pedro was first in every pitching stat that matters, except for innings.

      And which one won the MVP?

      But as much as people are talking about the two idiots who left Pedro off entirely, it's not about them at all. They probably (or might have) made some sort of principled stand that a pitcher should never win the award (don't get me started on this ridiculous thought. If it's true, there are a handful of guys who ought to give theirs back).

      There are 26 other writers who DID vote for Pedro somewhere -- in others words, they clearly believe that a pitcher can win the MVP. And 18 of those 26 thought someone was more valuable than Pedro this year. For example, Pedro got three seventh-place votes. What were those guys thinking?

      Thanks for listening to the ventings of a Red Sox fan.

      Take care,
      Joshua Rovner
      Red Sox Nation

    I generally don't print the ventings of biased fans, but Joshua's been a faithful correspondent for a long time. Plus, he's on my side. Anyway, leaving Pudge alone for a moment, let's address this pitcher-as-MVP issue for a moment. I've written this many times before, but the MVP voting rules are quite clear, and the rules say that pitchers must be considered for the award.

    Now, those two voters who completely omitted Martinez from the ballot ... it's not really fair to say that they cost him the MVP. Even if both had listed him fifth on their ballots -- certainly a reasonable option -- he'd still have finished a few points behind Rodriguez. Nevertheless, in a just world those two voters would be stripped of future chances to flout the rules so blatantly. If you don't think that a pitcher putting together one of the great seasons in recent history -- and for a contending team, no less -- is worthy of even a 10th-place vote, then it's obviously a philosophical unwillingness to vote for a pitcher.

    I will leave you with one fact, obviously damning, but ignored by too many baseball writers: in 1999, Ivan Rodriguez grounded into a double play (31) more often than he walked (24).

    Does that mean he's not a great player? Of course it does not. It simply means that he's not great enough to deserve the game's highest honor.

    And finally, one more letter, typical of a sort that I receive around this time every year:

      If you are going to talk about who helped their team more how can you possibly choose Jeter over Martinez or even Nomar. Without either one of those guys the Red Sox would be .500 at best. Forget it. Without Pedro they wouldn't even be that good. The guy dominated every opponent he faced even though at the end of the year he was injured. The Yankees without Jeter would have been exactly the same. It is called an MVP award, it is not discriminative against pitchers, otherwise they would not be involved.

    First off, the Yankees would not have been exactly the same without Jeter, and in fact that's an incredibly silly thing to suggest. The Yankees finished four games ahead of the Red Sox in the American League East. Do you think they'd have done that if Luis Sojo had been playing shortstop all season?

    Second -- and this is the real point of this little diatribe -- who cares? By this logic -- "The Yankees would have won anyway" -- then no player from a great team can be named MVP. I mean, maybe I'm missing something here, but do you know how many MVPs have played for great teams? In 1927, the Yankees won the pennant by 19 games. Should we strip Lou Gehrig of his MVP because they would have won with Doug Mientkiewicz at first base?

    In 1970, the Orioles won the American League title by 15 games. Does that mean Boog Powell didn't deserve his MVP?

    Of course it doesn't. The idea that MVP awards should only go to players on teams that need an MVP is interesting, but if you follow that philosophy to its logical extreme, you end up with something that really doesn't make sense. Sort of like giving the MVP to the player with the 42nd-best on-base percentage in the league.

    WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 24

    November is, to many of us, the darkest month. There's no baseball unless you're in Arizona, there's very little college basketball, and the long December holidays are still a month away. But just as laughter might be the only salve for growing old, November does have one saving grace ... The STATS Major League Handbook, which landed on my desk last week.

    I could, quite easily, write a column every day of the winter, based purely on the numbers in the Major League Handbook. And frankly, I don't really understand how any diehard baseball fans get through the winter without it.

    When my Handbook arrives, the first thing I check is the Park Data section. And as usual, this year there's a ton of interesting stuff in that section alone. Topping the list, for me at least, are the three-year (1997-1999) "Ballpark Index Rankings-Home Runs per At Bat."

    Now, if you asked a casual baseball fan -- you know, the kind of baseball fan who doesn't buy the Major League Handbook -- to name the best ballpark for home runs, there's a good chance he'd say it's Fenway, what with The Green Monster and everything.

    Believe it or not, last year and over the last three years, Fenway has been the worst ballpark for home runs in the American League. From 1997 through 1999, there were 15 percent fewer home runs hit in Red Sox home games than in Red Sox road games.

    Let me repeat this information for those of you fooling around in the back of the classroom ... the American League ballpark which many consider the best home-run park is actually the worst.

    Earlier this year, I discussed this subject in slightly less detail, and I attributed Fenway's transformation -- from a great park for power hitters to one that's not so great at all -- to the addition of the press box and the 600 Club back in 1989. My friends at "The Big Bad Baseball Annual" excoriated me for this, and deservedly so, because I didn't bother checking my facts. Fenway's demise as a power hitter's haven actually began in 1982 and '83, when private suites were constructed on the grandstand roof along the right- and left-field foul lines. Below are the three-year HR numbers before and after the private suites were constructed. 

               HR,Home  HR,Road   Diff
1978-1980    499      428      +71
1984-1986    453      472      -19

    The difference is even more dramatic if we start the second three-year span with 1985, because 1984 was a good season for home-run hitters at Fenway. But I thought that would be cheating. The fact remains that since 1985, there have been more homers in Red Sox road games than Red Sox home games in 11 of 15 seasons. And for whatever reason -- new, smaller ballparks? -- the effect is particularly pronounced over the last few years.

    Of course, Fenway's especially tough on the lefty power hitters. But even for the righties, it's not an easy home-run park. The three-year HR Factor for right-handed hitters is 92, which means (again) that righties have hit eight percent fewer home runs in Sox home games than in Sox road games.

    Mind you, Fenway Park is still a good hitter's park, as it always has been. Not a great hitter's park, but a good one. Purely in terms of run production, Fenway ranks sixth among 14 American League ballparks over the last three seasons. Fenway's a very good park for average, especially for left-handed hitters, and it's a great doubles park.

    What I believe is that The Green Monster and the high center-field wall make for a fantastic visual background for the left-handed hitters.

    Now, if you're looking for a great home-run park, look no further than Wrigley Field (Coors Field is on an entirely different level, both literally and figuratively).

    Ah, so Sammy Sosa must really be benefiting from The Friendly Confines, right? Well, it's weird. From 1993 through 1997, Sosa hit 104 homers at Wrigley and 66 on the road, which of course is a huge difference. But over the last two seasons, he's hit 68 home runs at Wrigley and 61 on the road. That difference is essentially meaningless, because if you take the ballparks out of the equation, all players hit slightly better at home than on the road.

    So what are we to make of this?

    There are two ways, "back-of-the-envelope" ways, to interpret this information. Actually, that's not precisely true. There really are three, but one of them is idiotic, and goes like this: Wrigley Field isn't really a great home-run park. If it was, Sammy's stats wouldn't look like they do. But we know that's not true, don't we? So let's look at the two other ways.

    The first argument is this: While it's true that Sosa hasn't hit a lot more homers at home, this is actually an indictment. If he were as good at home as on the road, he'd have hit another five or six bombs per season, and people would be saying, "Mark who?"

    The second argument goes like this: For some hitters, it doesn't matter where they play. When they hit the ball, it stays hit. Sosa (so the argument goes) is one of these hitters.

    I'll be honest, until recently I would have made the first argument, and gone merrily about my way. However, a couple of things have made me re-think this position. First of all, two seasons and 129 home runs make for a pretty powerful persuader. And second, a colleague of mine named Mickey Lichtman believes that players can be differentiated by how far they hit their home runs -- Andres Galarraga vs. Dante Bichette, for example -- and there really are some players for whom the ballpark isn't so important.

    Anyway, that's neither here nor there, but does exemplify the type of things that come to mind when you're flipping through the Major League Handbook. I'm sure I've written this before, but as a baseball fan it's the best 20 bucks you'll ever spend.

    FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 26

    The turkeys have been devoured, the Lions have tamed the Bears (oh my!), and George King is back from his annual Caribbean vacation. So let's tie up a few recent loose ends ...

    King, as many of you know, is the New York Post writer who listed Derek Jeter first on his MVP ballot (yea, George!), but didn't list Pedro Martinez at all (boo, George!).

    Upon returning from his vacation, King wrote a column defending his omission of Martinez from the MVP ballot. Actually, that's not precisely true. He wrote half a column on that subject, the other half describing just how scary Hurricane Lenny was. I think the point was that, compared to the possibility of being swept into the ocean by angry winds and seas, who wins the American League MVP award is but a trifle.

    Last Friday, The Boston Globe printed the complete ballots from all 28 MVP voters. And last Sunday, the Globe's Dan Shaughnessy came down very hard on his colleague. It seems that King, just one year ago, listed David Wells and Rick Helling on his MVP ballot, and of course neither Wells nor Helling was nearly as worthy as Pedro Martinez. Shaughnessy concluded his column with the following:

    One of three things happened here: 1. King changed his mind about the worthiness of pitchers for MVP; 2. King thought Pedro Martinez in 1999 was something less than Wells and Helling in 1998; 3. King wanted to stick it to Boston and take care of the Yankees.

    The first of these possibilities is reasonable, but certainly suspicious. The second is ridiculous. And the third borders on libelous. Rather than report all this earlier in the week, I decided to wait until King had a chance to defend himself. Why? Because I believe that accusing someone of bias -- possibility No. 3 -- must only be done as a last resort, as bias is considered, in most quarters, even worse than sheer stupidity.

    That said, I do believe that King was biased, if not against the Red Sox, then certainly for the Yankees ... but that's to be expected, because if you look at the ballots you'll see that nearly every voter is more than capable of bias. Is it a coincidence that Rafael Palmeiro was listed first on four ballots, and two of those were those submitted by writers who cover the Rangers? Is it a coincidence that one Cleveland writer listed Manny Ramirez first and Roberto Alomar second, and the other listed Alomar first and Ramirez third? Is it a coincidence that both Boston writers listed Pedro Martinez first? Is it a coincidence that George King listed Derek Jeter first, and the other New York writer listed Jeter second?

    Somehow, I don't think so. Writers certainly aren't as biased as fans -- nobody is -- but they certainly aren't anywhere near objective, either. If you give them the benefit of the doubt, you can figure they're biased in favor of the hometown players simply because they see them more often, and thus appreciate them more. If you want to take a somewhat dimmer view of human nature, you can figure that the writers vote the hometown boys because they want the players to like them.

    Anyway, here's how King defended himself:

    In the past I have included hurlers on my MVP ballot. However, after listening to respected baseball people at last year's Winter Meetings grouse about giving $105 million to a pitcher (Kevin Brown) who would work in about 25 percent of the Dodgers' games, I adopted the philosophy that pitchers -- especially starters -- could never be included in the MVP race.

    This is absolutely ridiculous. The fact is that the market value for top pitchers is in the $15 million range. When King says "respected" baseball people, what he really means is "baseball people that I respect, people who don't think pitchers are worth that kind of money."

    But of course, that's not what's important here. What's important is the very moment that George King decided that pitchers "could never be included in the MVP race," he should have withdrawn from the balloting because, as I'm sure you all remember, the rules specifically require that pitchers be considered. George King should never be allowed to vote for any award again, because he clearly does not respect the rules of his organization. King is, in some respects, a colleague of mine, and he makes me ashamed for our profession.

    The funny thing is, King is the only writer to list Jeter No. 1, which is exactly what I would have done. Of course, he also listed Pudge Rodriguez No. 2, far higher than I would have. For the last word -- or at least, my last words -- on that pudgy issue, check this space Sunday. In the meantime, I do want to say one more thing about the MVP race.

    One of the common arguments against pitchers as MVP is, "How can a starting pitcher, who works in perhaps 20 percent of their team's games, be as valuable as an everyday player who appears in 90 percent of his team's games?"

    Here's the standard counter-argument, voiced by any number of Pedro Martinez boosters last week: Ah, but let us consider plate appearances. Manny Ramirez came to the plate 640 times last season. Pedro Martinez faced 835 batters. Ergo, Martinez actually had a greater impact!"

    Interesting analysis, but it's not quite that simple. Why? Because batters and pitchers do not have equal impact on plate appearances. That's to say, the "degree of outcome control" (to borrow a phrase of Bill James') is greater for a hitter than a pitcher. No pitcher gives up, per plate appearance, as many home runs as Mark McGwire hits, or as few home runs as Otis Nixon hits. As James points out, in the modern era, wherein even great starters rarely crack 225 innings, it's extremely tough for any pitcher to be as valuable as a truly excellent position player. And this year, there were a number of truly excellent position players. And that's why, after further reflection, my MVP ballot would have gone Jeter, Ramirez, Martinez, Alomar, Garciaparra, with Rodriguez somewhere in the bottom five.

    MONDAY, NOVEMBER 29

    Needless to say, I received an overwhelming amount of mail in support of Ivan Rodriguez as MVP, generally sticking close to one of two themes.

    1. It's obvious that you've never played/watched a baseball game.

    2. How could Pudge not be the MVP? He had the best season a catcher ever had!

    To the second of these, I will respond with a simple question ... Are you out of your ever-lovin' gourds? The best season a catcher ever had?

    Let's break that question down into three categories: baserunning, defense, and hitting.

    People like to marvel at Pudge's 25 stolen bases. That's impressive, no question about it. Unfortunately, he also got thrown out 12 times. If you take the time to run the numbers, you'll find that the break-even point for basestealing is about 66 percent. That is, if you're successful more than two-thirds of the time, you're contributing runs to your team. If you're successful less than two-thirds of the time, you're costing your team runs. Rodriguez was successful almost exactly two-thirds of the time. His basestealing ability, impressive as it seems, added virtually nothing to the bottom line.

    Now, about the defense ... you know, I think we'll save that one for last. As for hitting, the idea that Rodriguez had the best year ever is simply indefensible, and is due in large part to the public's stubborn fascination with batting average.

    Let's look at Pudge's 1999 performance, along with those of two other MVP catchers, Roy Campanella in 1951 and Johnny Bench in 1972:

                   OBP  Rank   Slug  Rank   OPS  Rank
Campy, 1951   .393   7th   .590   3rd   983   3rd
Bench, 1972   .386   9th   .541   3rd   927   3rd
Pudge, 1999   .356  42nd   .558   9th   914  18th

    Ignore the percentages, and look at the ranks. Which of these seasons is not like the others? The difference between Rodriguez and the others is even a bit more stark when you consider the fact that on-base percentage, in terms of run production, is slightly more important than slugging percentage.

    Those are just two seasons. I could have found others, many others, that were significantly better than what Pudge did in 1999. I could have found some Yogi Berra seasons, some Mickey Cochrane seasons, some Mike Piazza seasons ... shoot, I probably could have found a Todd Hundley season.

    "Hold on a second, pardner," some of you are saying. "We'll allow that maybe Rodriguez didn't have the greatest season ever as a hitter, but what about when you combine his hitting with his defense?"

    OK, what about that?

    Let's revisit Roy Campanella in 1951, and Johnny Bench in 1972. I selected those two seasons because, and only because, they represented each player's best seasons with the bat, or very close to it. As it happens, both Campanella and Bench were considered exceptional defensive catchers, the Pudges of their times. Bench won his first Gold Glove when he was 20; so did Rodriguez. The first Gold Gloves weren't awarded until 1957, Campanella's last season, and by then he was past his prime. But it's fairly likely that he'd have won at least a few.

    As for working with the pitchers, we know for years this was not considered one of Pudge's strong suits. And of course, the Texas pitching staff hasn't exactly been shutting people down. Meanwhile, when Campanella played for the Dodgers, they annually were right around the league leaders in ERA, even though Ebbets Field was a great hitter's park. The same could essentially be said for Bench.

    Yes, I know that the Dodgers and Reds pitchers were probably more talented than the Rangers pitchers. But what does that say? That it doesn't matter who the catcher is? If you say "Yes," then you're arguing that a catcher's defense is, indeed, not as important as people think. You're arguing that Mike Piazza really is a great player.

    So if Catcher ERA isn't important, what does that leave? Right, the numbers. Now, a lot of people have accused me of "never having watched a baseball game" and "only looking at the numbers," but a lot of these same people quote Rodriguez's stolen-base data, chapter and verse. And indeed, it is impressive.

    Opposing players attempted to steal 75 times with Rodriguez catching, and he nailed 55 percent of them (34 successful steals). That's impressive. He also picked off eight or 10 runners.

    You want to guess how many bases were stolen when Roy Campanella was behind the plate in 1951?

    Fifteen. Meanwhile, Campy nailed 33 guys trying. I know, I know. It was a different game back then. Nobody stole bases, and a bunch of those attempts against Campanella were probably busted hit-and-run plays. After all, in 1951 the average National League team attempted only 93 steals.

    Fine. Let's move ahead to 1972. Lou Brock stole 63 bases, and Joe Morgan and Cesar Cedeno both topped 50. An average National League team attempted 127 steals, and six of the NL.'s dozen ballparks featured artificial turf. You want to guess how many bases were stolen when Bench was behind the plate?

    Twenty-two. Twenty-two bases in 129 games. But wait, it gets better. He also nailed 29 guys trying, which means he caught 57 percent of those with larceny in their minds. You wanna talk about controlling the opposition running game? Bench allowed fewer stolen bases than Rodriguez and he threw out a higher percentage.

    It seems fairly clear that Bench's 1972 season, defensively, was at least the equal of Pudge's 1999. Throw in the hitting side of the equation, and it's not even close.

    Now, all this doesn't mean that Rodriguez didn't deserve his MVP. Nobody says you have to have the best season ever at your position to win the award. One might, I suppose, construct a rational argument for Rodriguez as the MVP, flawed though it might be. But describing his season as "the best ever by a catcher" is simply not admissible as a part of that argument.

    Stolen-base data for Campanella and Bench courtesy of Retrosheet.

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