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The case for Minnie.


KevHead0881

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Good read. Definitely makes a good case that Minnie should be in the hall.

 

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Minoso deserves place in Cooperstown

 

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By Rob Neyer

ESPN Insider

 

Joe Sheehan's one of the best and brightest baseball writers around. If my fingers were crushed in a threshing machine tomorrow, Joe would be one of the very few names I would suggest as my replacement at ESPN.com.

Then again, that's probably because Joe and I agree on just about everything. I mean, we'll quibble on matters of interpretation – how much longer Pedro Martinez's right arm will stay attached at the shoulder, the merits of "The Aviator" vs. "Million Dollar Baby" – but when there are facts involved, Joe and I don't make for much of a show if you're looking for a debate.

 

Last week, though, we did come to loggerheads on ESPNews' "Hot List," hosted by (sabermetrics-friendly) Brian Kenny. The subject was the Hall of Fame – specifically, the candidates on the Veterans Committee ballot. Joe and I agree about Ron Santo, of course; Santo's so obviously a Hall of Fame-caliber player that it's actually sort of offensive that we're still having this conversation, three decades into his retirement. We agree, too, that otherwise the vets committee ballot is pretty slim pickings, with nary another obvious choice among the lot. But we did disagree about something. Or rather, somebody: Minnie Minoso. Just before the big hook came out and pulled me off the screen, I quickly mentioned that Minoso also deserves a plaque in Cooperstown. And soon after returning home from the studio, I received this message from Joe:

 

 

Rob, talk to me about Minoso. … I see a guy who, even given three good seasons – which seems awfully generous in itself – still ends up on in the gray area with an awful lot of guys who aren't in. I'm sympathetic to his plight, but he seems to need a lot of help to get there.

Three good seasons, Joe? I'll see your three, and raise you a couple of seasons.

 

In his most recent Historical Baseball Abstract, Bill James ran a chart listing the 20 "greatest players in history, based on Win Shares between ages 30 and 39, not including pitchers." I'll ignore the first 10, because it's guys such as Babe Ruth and Willie Mays and Stan Musial, all of them top-tier Hall of Famers (except Pete Rose). Here are Nos. 11 through 20 (and I updated the list to account for Barry Bonds, who's now No. 1 and thus pushed everybody back a notch):

 

 

 

 

11. Stan Musial (21)

 

12. Nap Lajoie (22)

 

13. Charlie Gehringer (23)

 

14. Bill Terry (26)

 

15. Frank Robinson (20)

 

16. Eddie Collins (22)

 

17. Minnie Minoso (28)

 

18. Paul Molitor (21)

 

19. Ted Williams (20)

 

20. Willie Stargell (23)

 

 

That number in parentheses is the age at which each player first played at least 120 games in a major league season. Not when he first reached the majors, but when he first established himself as a regular, got a real chance to play.

 

Bill Terry's a special case. He started his professional career as a pitcher, then spent four seasons playing semipro ball before crashing into the American Association as a hard-hitting first baseman. (Minoso's a special case, too.)

 

Putting aside Terry and Minoso, look at the rest of those numbers in parentheses. You're smart enough that I won't work through the math, but notice the upper limit: 23. Joe says giving Minoso three seasons is generous. I say three seasons is far from generous. I would say seven seasons is generous, six seasons is somewhat generous and five seasons is manifestly fair.

 

Nobody's giving Minnie those five seasons back, but we can at least fantasize, right?

 

As everybody knows, the most common age at which baseball players peak is 27. Minoso was unusually productive after he turned 27, though, so let's assume he was a "late peaker"; let's assume he peaked at 28 – his rookie season, as it happened – and finally, let's assume that the five seasons after his (assumed) peak are a decent guide to what the seasons before that peak would have looked like, if he'd had them.

 

I'll round off the numbers (it doesn't take much rounding) to get us this player:

 

Hits: 2,800

 

 

Runs: 1,650

 

Doubles: 475

 

Triples: 140

 

Homers: 250

 

RBI: 1,450

 

Batting: .300

 

Slugging: .465

 

On-Base: .390

Does that look like a Hall of Famer to you? Two thousand, eight hundred hits would place Minoso No. 43 on the list, between George Sisler and Andre Dawson. Joe Morgan's No. 27 on the all-time runs list, and he scored 1,650 runs. The doubles would rank 61st, between Zack Wheat and Jack Beckley (both of whom are in the Hall). One hundred and forty triples would tie Minoso with Willie Mays in the No. 62 slot. One thousand, four hundred and fifty RBI would rank 49th, between Jim Rice and Joe Carter. And 250 home runs would have been damn good for a leadoff man in the 1940s and '50s.

 

None of those comparisons proves anything, except perhaps that Minoso was an extraordinarily well-rounded hitter. But is there anybody who doesn't think Billy Williams belongs in the Hall of Fame? Give Minoso those five extra seasons, and he's got Williams beat in hits, runs, doubles, triples, batting average and on-base percentage. Williams did have quite a bit more power than Minoso, but that edge is balanced by Minoso's edge in batting average, walks and (especially) HBP (Minnie led the American League 10 times in that painful category). Granted, Williams played throughout the pitcher-friendly 1960s, but that's balanced by their home ballparks; if you adjust their career OPS stats for ballparks and leagues, Minoso and Williams finished with nearly identical numbers. And this sells Minoso short, because of course we know that on-base percentage is, and was 50 years ago, more valuable than slugging percentage.

 

So it seems to me that a reasonable – not a generous, but a reasonable – interpretation of the facts suggests Minoso, if he'd been allowed a normal career path, would have been just as valuable as Billy Williams. More valuable, actually, when you consider Minoso's superior on-base percentage, his (far) superior speed and his superior fielding (Minoso won three Gold Gloves, though he won them when a left fielder had to be chosen).

 

I did cheat a bit above. In transferring Minoso's five post-1951 seasons to pre-1951, I gave him a damn good 1949 season (in the form of his damn good 1953 season): .313 batting average, .410 on-base percentage, 104 runs scored and 104 RBI. The "problem" is that Minoso actually did play in 1949, in the Pacific Coast League. And while he played well that season, he didn't play that well: .297 batting average, .371 OBP, 99 runs, 75 RBI in 137 games against good, but not top-flight, pitching.

 

So in retroactively filling in the blanks for 1949, I was certainly too generous. By his own lofty standards, Minoso didn't play particularly well that season.

 

And you know what? I'm OK with that. If there's a legitimate knock against Minoso's record, it's that he really didn't put together any huge seasons. Win Shares-wise, he topped 30 only once, which is exceedingly rare for a great player, and puts Minoso in a group with lesser lights such as Jim Rice, Roy White, and Jose Cruz. But considering what Minoso did in his 30s, isn't it likely that if you gave him those five extra seasons, one of them would have been a monster?

 

Between giving Minoso only five extra seasons and not assuming that one of those five seasons would have been MVP-worthy, I've actually been somewhat conservative in my rearward projection – because I don't want to overstate my case. Let me say this, though: If ever a sort of player deserved a bit of charity, isn't it this sort? Saturnino Orestes Minoso didn't play his first game in Organized Baseball until 1948, when he was 25, and that was only eleven games in the Central League (he batted .525 with nine long hits).

 

Maybe Minnie Minoso was some sort of freak, a great player in his 30s who wasn't a great player in his 20s. But in a situation like this, don't we have to go with what's likely? And what's likely is that Minnie Minoso, for no reason other than the color of his skin, was robbed of at least five seasons in his youth – five seasons that would place his career squarely among a dozen or more Hall of Fame outfielders.

 

************

 

After writing the above, I sent it along to a friend. He responded with, "All right, you've convinced me. But are you sure about Minoso's age? I remember reading something a few years ago that tossed his birthday into question … ."

 

Uh-oh. Seeing as how my entire argument for Minoso rests on this, I figured I ought to get his birthday right. So I bought his most recent autobiography (there are two of them), "Just Call Me Minnie," which was published in 1994. All the references say Minoso was born late in 1922. But right there on page 5 of Minoso's own book, I found this:

 

 

 

People always want to know how old I really am. The official sources have me listed as being born on November 29, 1922. That would make me 71 years old, and I would not make excuses or apologies. I am actually just 68 years old. I was 19 years old when I arrived in the United States in 1945, but my papers said I was 22. I told a white lie in order to obtain a visa, so I could qualify for service in the Cuban army. My true date of birth is the 29th of November, 1925.

 

Maybe Joe Sheehan knew about Minoso's admission when he wrote me. Either way, Joe's right; giving Minoso three good seasons would be generous. Not exceptionally generous, mind you; in 1947, when Minoso was only 21, he played in the East-West Game (the Negro Leagues' all-star game). But Minoso first played regularly in the majors when he was 25, and there's simply no reason to think he'd have put together more than three more good seasons in the majors even if his skin were the same color as mine. And three more good seasons just doesn't get him squarely into the Hall of Fame. Rather, it gets him into a group of players the likes of Lou Brock, Goose Goslin, Sherry Magee, Jimmy Sheckard, and Jose Cruz. Some Hall of Famers, some not.

 

I still think Minoso deserves the benefit of the doubt, and that he has a pretty good case. But now, knowing what we know, it's a case about which reasonable men might disagree. And once again, Ron Santo looks like the only sure thing on the Veterans Committee ballot.

 

Senior writer Rob Neyer writes for Insider two or three times per week during the offseason. To offer criticism, praise or anything in between, send e-mail to [email protected].

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What about Minnie and the HOF? He at the very least deserves more consideration than he's gotten to date. The Veterans Committee has shafted him. They've completely ignored Billy Pierce. If Pierce had pitched for the Yanks folks would say Whitey who? If Minnie had started his ML career at 22 or 23 instead of 28 he'd have made the HOF a long time ago. There's no crying in baseball, but just like life itself it isn't always fair.

Edited by Yossarian
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