The Hall of Nearly Great

The Hall of Nearly Great is the fantastic eBook that inspired the Hall of Clearly Above Replacement But Not Quite Average project that I posted about earlier.

Writers involved in this much more high profile project than mine include Joe Posnanski, Rob Neyer, Jeff Passan, Jonah Keri, Craig Calcaterra and Jay Jaffe. Plus 36 more who are nearly as great (get it?), but possibly not quite as well-known as those guys. That's right! 42 terrific writers covering 43 nearly Hall of Fame worthy players (well, in my opinion, several of them are Hall-worthy, but there are also a few who simply were good to very good).

Through an affiliate program with the book's creators, if you purchase the eBook using the link provided here [i.e. the cover image to the right], I get a commission. I'm not sure if that's any additional incentive, but you can't blame me for trying.

So, go ahead and slide that mouse just a little to the right and CLICK! You know you want to.

It Feels Worse When I Stop

In my previous post about Joe Pernice's new novel, I referred to the book's title in terms of how a runner might feel upon the completion of a workout. In the case of our recently passed weather situation, sometimes it's the opposite. That is, the weather seems bearable, or at least you rationalize that it's "not that bad." Then, you stop moving and, all of a sudden, the perspiration starts running off you like Multnomah Falls.

Of course, the production of sweat is the human body's method of regulating its temperature. So, although it makes you feel uncomfortable, perspiration actually is cooling you off. But, this isn't intended to be a science lesson. Instead, I'm really just looking for a seque way to revisiting my discussion of It Feels So Good When I Stop.

In reality, the title of the book is in reference to a joke about a guy who, when asked why he keeps hitting himself over the head with a hammer, responds "because it feels so good when I stop."

Pernice's first novel combines the understated brilliance of some of his lyrics—although I thought "contemplating suicide or a graduate degree" would have really fit—with a slacker-like flair for the Hornbyesque. One of the reviews I read complains that it "...ambles in no discernable direction," and I really can't disagree. But, if you're a fan of Pernice's music and/or Hornby's style, it's definitely worth the read.

The book's "soundtrack" is really enjoyable as well. It's one that I would call a "grower," in that it falls into the category of albums that seem to get better with each subsequent listen. Of course, I've already mentioned how much I like his covers of Dream Syndicate's "Tell Me When It's Over," Penn & Oldham's "I'm Your Puppet," and Tom T. Hall's "That's How I Got to Memphis." The album also includes an unremarkable version of Todd Rundgren's "Hello It's Me" and the questionable inclusion of "Chim Cheree" from Mary Poppins. Beyond that, it's all good, with other highlights including Plush's "I Found a Little Baby," Del Shannon's "I Go to Pieces," and—believe it or not—Sebadoh’s "Soul and Fire."

It Feels So Good When I Stop

The title of singer-songwriter, and leader of the indie rock band that bears his name, Joe Pernice's new novel invokes a sentiment commonly expressed by runners. Having not read the book yet, I'm not certain what exactly the author means by it, but I'm sure it won't be long until I find out. I had the opportunity to hear Pernice read a couple passages from It Feels So Good When I Stop last night when his recent book/music tour brought him to the Brattle Theater in Harvard Square.

It was an evening filled with vulgarity as Boston natives the Walsh Brothers opened with their tasteless but humorous comedy act. Then, Joe read a couple of f-bomb laden passages from his Hornsby-esque novel about an aimless 25-year old who abandons his wife after only a few days of marriage and retreats to his native Massachusetts.

The story, of course, includes numerous musical references, prompting Pernice's decision to record cover versions of ten of the songs mentioned in the book and release them as a soundtrack. Last night's show also included two brief sets of music, the first consisting of a handful of songs from said soundtrack, with Joe's own material comprising the second.

Pernice was noticeably much more comfortable playing music than he was reading his written material, but he still delivered on both accounts. Somewhat surprisingly, I was mildly disappointed that he didn't play more of the newer material, as normally—and I know I'm not alone here—I tend to prefer to hear more of the stuff I'm familiar with. Highlights for me were Dream Syndicate's "Tell Me When It's Over" and the Dan Penn and Spooner Oldham penned "I'm Your Puppet." I did really want to hear his version of Tom T. Hall's "That's How I Got to Memphis," though.

Following the show, as he signed my copy of his book, I had the opportunity to briefly reminisce with Joe about the Wilco show in suburban Albany, 13 years ago, when I first discovered his old band, the Scud Mountain Boys. He made my evening when he asked if we'd ever met—which we hadn't until last night—but I suppose that maybe I looked familiar from the dozens of small club shows of his I've been to.

The brief taste of the novel that last night's show gave me has me excited to dive into it, something that I'll be doing on my upcoming trip to Portland, Oregon. I'm sure I'll also find the time to review a couple of brew pubs while I'm at it.

Four Nights in the Garden of Good and Evil

Following our visit to Atlanta and Turner Field, and a brief stopover at my cousins’ place just outside of Greenville, South Carolina—the former hometown of “Shoeless” Joe Jackson—KJ and I ventured down to Savannah. A charming and historic port city on the coast of Georgia, Savannah lies at the mouth of the river that shares its name. It also has a unique history of interesting, and sometimes eccentric, people and mysterious circumstances.

Our first night in Savannah, we wandered around town, getting the lay of the land. The city’s historic district is comprised of 24 squares, although three of these were all but destroyed due to development in the 1950s. Unlike in Boston, where a square is really just a chaotic maze-like intersection, Savannah’s squares are basically miniature parks. Most of them are shaded by Spanish moss covered live oak trees, and many feature fountains and/or statues as their centerpieces.

The next morning, we visited the Mercer House, which was less than a block away from our B&B. The home was built by the great-grandfather of Academy Award winning lyricist Johnny Mercer (“Moon River”, “Days of Wine and Roses”), who was also the co-founder of Capitol Records. The Mercers never lived there, though, but antiques dealer and Savannah socialite Jim Williams—the central character in John Berendt’s true-crime murder story Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil—did.

Speaking of Moon River, and since a trip to a new area wouldn’t be complete without tasting some locally brewed beer, the afternoon brought us to Savannah’s one and only brewpub. Moon River Brewing Company’s Wild Wacky Wit is an ordinary, but refreshing, orange peel and coriander-spiced Belgian-style wheat that went well with our lunch on a hot and sunny day. Their Savannah Fest is a German-style fest beer with medium malt character and a nice hop/malt balance. It was most enjoyable, though, due to the fact that Savannah’s lack of an open container law allowed me to get it “to-go” in a plastic cup and consume it while walking around town.

Our second night was not without incident. After much indecision about where to go to dinner, we ended up at a place whose menu did little for me, at least partly due to my distaste for seafood. We opted to just have a drink there prior to moving on, but not before I proceeded to let a pint glass slip out of my hand and knock over KJ’s drink in the process, spilling the majority of both drinks on my lap. The waitress replaced both drinks—mine was a SweetWater Georgia Brown—but considering the state of my shorts, we decided to dine at Five Guys Burgers and Fries.

The SweetWater Georgia Brown was unimpressive, as are most American brown ales—with the exception of Brooklyn Brown—it seems. This one, though, was oddly over-carbonated but with virtually no head retention. Five Guys, on the other hand, was easily the best fast-food hamburger I’ve ever tasted. This was my first visit to the Washington DC based chain, and I left there hoping they have plans to open more locations than the three that are within 20 miles of Boston.

A trip to the south just wouldn’t seem right without some barbecue, and our third night was highlighted by a visit to a place called Blowin’ Smoke. Besides having a great bottled beer list—although I opted for a Dale’s Pale Ale, a rare microbrew in a can—this joint featured the best Kansas City Ribs and green beans I’ve ever had. Their pulled pork, fried pickles and mac & cheese were boast-worthy as well, and the Dale’s—a strong ale that perfectly straddles the line between pale ale and IPA—was the perfect complement.

On our fourth, and final, night we re-enacted a memorable scene from the aforementioned book—well, sort of—by driving to Bonaventure Cemetery with a couple of cocktails, and drinking them while sitting on the grave of writer Conrad Aiken. Now, before you jump to the conclusion that this was a disrespectful act, I should tell you that Aiken’s gravestone is built in the shape of a bench, and he had it made that way for this very purpose.

Aiken’s successful life and career as a poet and writer of short stories was despite a tragic childhood. At 11 years old, the Savannah native found the bodies of his dead parents, the casualties of a murder-suicide committed by his father. He was subsequently raised by relatives in Massachusetts, returning to Savannah later in life, where he lived out his final 11 years.

Overall, our trip to the 13th colony was one of my best vacations in recent memory. That, of course, had as much to do with the company as with the places we visited, although that’s not to say that I don’t wish I was still on the streets of Savannah, drinking a beer from a plastic cup or a vodka and tonic from the styrofoam variety.

When the Pilot Light is Out

Just a month removed from the Philadelphia Phillies' World Series celebration, the burner on the hot stove appears to have cooled off. All of the post-season awards have been announced, the Jake Peavy trade rumors have died down, and none of the major free agents seem to be in a hurry to find new homes. So, unless you're interested in more talk about the Mitchell report, or its spin-off, the Roger Clemens/Brian McNamee saga, then you need to look elsewhere for your winter baseball pick-me-up.

So, to help you with this, I bring you my recommendations for your off-season baseball-related reading. I'm going to break these down into a few categories, and hopefully my selections are far enough out of left field, so to speak, that they'll include a few that you might not have thought about reading otherwise.

Baseball Folk Tales

The Iowa Baseball Confederacy, by W.P. Kinsella
Often imitated but never duplicated, you really can't go wrong with W.P. Kinsella. I'm sure most everyone has heard of Kinsella's first novel and most famous work, Shoeless Joe, the book that inspired the movie Field of Dreams. But, in my opinion, his best work is his second novel. The Iowa Baseball Confederacy tells the story of Gideon Clarke, a man on a quest to prove, as his father had tried unsuccessfully before him, that the Chicago Cubs traveled to Onamata (formerly Big Inning), Iowa in 1908 for an exhibition game against the amateur all-stars from The Iowa Baseball Confederacy. Gideon is determined to set the record straight about a game that no one believes ever happened, one that was expected to be congenial and one-sided, but turned into a titanic struggle of over 2000 innings, played mostly in pouring rain over more than a month's time. Kinsella's knack for weaving fantastical tales that celebrate the spirituality of baseball, as well as life in the American midwest, is on full display here. As far as I'm concerned, there is no story that better captures the concept of baseball as a virtual fountain of youth, and celebrates its timeless nature that has the ability to make time stand still.

The Curious Case of Sidd Finch, by George Plimpton
The product of an April Fools' Day hoax perpetrated by Plimpton and Sports Illustrated, Sidd Finch was a fictional baseball player "discovered" by the New York Mets in the spring of 1985. An eccentric English-born buddhist monk, Finch has the ability to throw a baseball at the astounding rate of 168 mph, and is deciding whether to pursue a career as a major league pitcher or as a french horn player. The story is a humorous and pleasantly rambling narrative that is as wonderful as a baseball fairy tale can be.

Human Interest Autobiographies

Fear Strikes Out: The Jim Piersall Story, by Jim Piersall & Al Hirshberg
Jimmy Piersall was a promising outfielder for the Boston Red Sox in the 1950s, who is best known for his battles with bipolar disorder that resulted in a nervous breakdown during the 1952 season. Following completion of a seven-week program at Westboro State Hospital in Massachusetts, which caused him to miss most of that season, he returned in 1953 to finish 9th in American League MVP voting. This is a dramatic and heart-warming story of his courage and of the unconditional support he received from his manager, teammates, coaches, fans, and most importantly, his wife. The remainder of his career, which stretched from 1950 to 1967, and included stints with the Cleveland Indians, Washington Senators, New York Mets and Los Angeles/California Angels, was not without incident, but his autobiography provides an in-depth account of his experiences that raised public awareness of the realities of mental illness.

Behind the Mask: My Double Life in Baseball, by Dave Pallone with Alan Steinberg
To my knowledge, Dave Pallone is the only confirmed homosexual in major league baseball history. The twist to his story is that he was an umpire. Not just any umpire, though, but an umpire who landed his job in the majors when the union was on strike. He was also at the center of one of the most famous on-field conflicts in modern history, the incident that resulted in Pete Rose's 50-game suspension for shoving him. Coincidentally, Rose and Pallone were both dismissed from the game by A. Bartlett Giamatti. Pallone claims that his firing was the result of his being "outed". His autobiography is a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at his closeted life in the homophobic sports world. One caveat to potential readers is that some of his accounts may be a bit more up close and personal than necessary, but they can easily be skipped over, and otherwise, this is well worth the read.

The Business of Baseball

Fair Ball: A Fan's Case for Baseball, by Bob Costas
Following the 1999 season, Bob Costas wrote this well-organized, easy to read, but very thorough "plan" for major league baseball as it moved into the 21st century. Subjects covered include logical arguments for a revenue sharing plan, a payroll ceiling and a payroll floor, simple realignment, a revised playoff structure, the elimination of the DH and the use of instant replay. It's almost ten years since it was written, and much has changed in the game since, particularly the fact that eight teams have won the subsequent nine World Series, but concerns about competitive balance are still a sleeping giant. Much of what Costas advocated for still makes sense, although may be in need of a slight revision to be practical. More importantly, though, at less than 200 pages, with typeset that resembles a children's book, it doesn't require much of a time investment, and it remains a very interesting read.

Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game, by Michael Lewis
Billy Beane certainly wasn't the first baseball executive to incorporate statistical analysis into personnel decisions, but his philosophies regarding under-valued skills are still considered somewhat revolutionary. This is easily the most mainstream of my recommendations here, but all I have to say is if you haven't read it yet, what are you waiting for?

Best-of-Trip Awards

Best Fans: Milwaukee, with St. Louis a close second. Both games were sellouts, but there just seemed to be more dedication emanating from the Brewers fans. I suppose this is a bit of an upset selection, considering St. Louis' reputation.

Best Neighborhood: St. Louis, by a landslide. None of the other parks were downtown, except Minnesota, but that neighborhood was dead.

Best Out-of-Town Scoreboard: Busch Stadium (St. Louis). I think I've already written about the fact that the rest of them were pretty standard, while Busch's scoreboard provided in-game information, such as the current batter, runners on base and number of outs.

Best Promotion: The Buck O'Neil Legacy Seat, Kaufmann Stadium (Kansas City). I sat two rows behind the lucky owner of this seat. She won a copy of the book, The Soul of Baseball: A Roadtrip Through Buck O'Neil's America, by Joe Posnanski. I guess the promotions that night weren't all bad.

Best National Anthem: Barcel Suzuki String Academy, Miller Park (Milwaukee).

Best Performance (Pitcher): CC Sabathia, Milwaukee vs. Houston, August 18 (9 IP, 130 pitches, 11 H, 2 BB, 9 SO, 2 ER). Honorable mention: Justin Verlander, Detroit vs. Kansas City, August 22 (6 2/3 IP, 8 H, 3 BB, 6 SO, 0 ER).

Best Performance (Batter): Albert Pujols, St. Louis vs. Atlanta, August 23 (3-for-5, HR, 2 2B, 3 RBI). Honorable mentions: Miguel Cabrera, Detroit vs. Kansas City, August 22 (2-for-4, 2 HR, 2 RBI); Corey Hart, Milwaukee vs. Houston, August 18 (3-for-4, HR, 2B, 2 RBI).

Best Beer: Summit Extra Pale Ale (St. Paul, Minnesota). Honorable mention: Boulevard Pale Ale (Kansas City, Missouri).

Best Motel/Hotel: Microtel Inn & Suites, Kansas City. I stayed here two nights because, for $65, this low-end suite was a tremendous value, especially when compared to the dumpy Super 8 I paid $80 to stay at in Ames, Iowa.

Friendliest People: The employees at the 18th & Vine Museums, Kansas City.

Best-Looking Women: St. Louis. Sorry, no pictures.

The Beatles (1978)

Rob's parents took him to NYC to see Beatlemania in the fall of 1978. Shortly thereafter, they would buy him the two compilation albums that would be the introduction to The Beatles for a lot of folks who didn't grow up in the 60's. They were commonly referred to as the Red Album, covering the early period of 1962-1966, and the Blue Album, which spanned 1967-1970. Rob and I dismissed these references, as we would contend that the late era singles and B-sides compilation, Hey Jude, was the Red Album. I'm not sure where we came up with this. First of all, there isn't a trace of red on the album's cover, other than George Harrison's tie...but maybe that's the reason. Hang on a sec...a Google search has just unearthed this description of an album being peddled on what appears to be an eBay copycat site: "THE BEATLES Hey Jude (Extremely rare Ecuadorian 10-track compilation LP pressed on RED vinyl..."

Somehow, I doubt Rob and I were aware of this rare Ecuadorian LP, but this may be a hint as to why, in some circles back then, it was referred to as the Red Album. Anyway, it appears that today, the title of that album is universally considered to be Hey Jude.

Ok, where was I? Oh yeah...those two compilations got it started, but we quickly dived into the entire catalog, with a particular emphasis on the period from Rubber Soul on. Back then, and even to this day, I was and have never been a big fan of The Beatles' early work. I'm pretty sure I used to say that every song from that period sounds the same. This may or may not be true...well, it is to some extent...but I still find that material to be much less compelling than Sgt. Pepper's, Abbey Road, The White Album, etc.

Rob and I would obsess over The Beatles even more than we did over Kiss. While vacationing at Rob's family's place on Sacandaga Lake in the lower Adirondacks, we developed a Beatles board game. I still associate bike treks into the nearby town of Broadalbin with those songs, as Rob and I would always attach a cassette player to the rack on one of our bikes for the trip. This didn't work very well, as it always favored one person's ability to listen over the other's. I'm pretty sure Rob usually got the better end of the deal.

Our biggest Beatles' fixation occurred after reading the book, The Walrus was Paul, Gary Patterson's account of the great Beatle death clues. Rob and I became fully engrossed in researching every clue related to the rumor that Paul McCartney had perished in a car accident in 1966, and been replaced by an imposter named William Campbell, also known by the pseudonym Billy Shears, the winner of a Paul McCartney lookalike contest. We tried to slow down "Strawberry Fields Forever" on a Magical Mystery Tour cassette to determine if the mysterious voice near the end says "I buried Paul" or "I'm very bored". We probably did irreparable damage to Rob's copy of The White Album and his turntable by attempting to play "Revolution 9" backwards.

Despite being impressionable youths, and really wanting to believe this fascinating rumor, neither one of us was convinced. It seemed too great a coincidence to believe that, not only did this imposter look like Paul McCartney, but he also sang like him and shared his songwriting ability. Although...The Beatles did stop touring in 1966, and considering their extreme shift in musical direction from Sgt. Pepper's on, it is possible that John Lennon was writing alone, but continuing to credit Lennon/McCartney. Now, wouldn't that be ironic?

The Beatles would be the last musical obsession that Rob and I would share. Our tastes went in decidedly different directions during our high school years, as I would enter my hard rock phase. Rob, meanwhile, despite being the Quarterback of the Arlington football team and the lightbulb-eating Center/Power Forward of the basketball team, would compromise his macho jock image by getting entirely too excited about such musical gems as the Flashdance soundtrack.

Well, unfortunately I've been idle with my writing for over a week, but that doesn't mean that I haven't been working on my analysis. I've been looking at player evaluation methods for almost the past year now, including reading Bill James' magnum opus Win Shares, and I'm convinced that this is the most thorough player evaluation method available for several reasons.

First, it is the only method that breaks down total player contribution to his team's success by dividing "Win Shares" between pitchers, fielders, and batters in direct proportion to the number of games the team has won. The only other method, that I am aware of, that considers fielding is Pete Palmer's Linear Weights System.

Second, Win Shares is the only method that considers a player's ability to be good enough to earn major league playing time as a positive value. The Linear Weights System uses a zero value as its starting point, with each player's contribution measured as either a positive or a negative from this base point. In other words, a player who is good enough to earn considerable major league playing time, but is rated below average by this system, actually earns a negative value. On the other hand, a player who sits on the bench (i.e. doesn't play at all) remains at a zero value. In fact, Steve Garvey rates as -5.2 for his career. This is absolutely ridiculous. Even those of us that suspect, or are convinced, that Garvey is overrated would never even suggest that he was a below average player and that the composite value of his career was a negative. This would suggest that he actually hurt his team more than he helped it, which is a ludicrous notion.

Third, I am convinced that James' system does the most thorough job of building in adjustments for such contextual factors as the era in which a player performed, the contributions of the players on the teams for whom he played, the strength of the competition, and the ballparks in which he played. Linear Weights considers these factors, but I've already pointed out its major shortcoming for which I'll admit to being completely unforgiving. All other player evaluation methods are essentially offensive-oriented systems that express performance on a rate basis, and do not make these important contextual adjustments.

I probably should explain what I mean by "express performance on a rate basis". Batting average is the most basic example of a statistic that measures performance as a rate. There is no consideration given to the player's ability to accumulate statistics. In order to evaluate a player's career, or to compare the careers of several players, we must consider both types of statistics, rate stats and cumulative stats. By doing so, we assign value to both the player's overall ability to perform and his ability to earn playing time, a significant factor of which is his longevity.

There are many rating systems out there that have done an excellent job of expanding on the shortcomings of batting average as a way to evaluate players. OPS (on-base percentage plus slugging percentage) is a simple, but fairly effective, way to measure a player's overall offensive ability. Other much more complex methods have been developed, but they are all offensive rating systems that are only effective at measuring a player's ability in a given season, or across a few seasons, because they do not place any weight on cumulative statistics. They are not designed to do so, and, therefore, are not as relevant to evaluating a player's overall career as the Win Shares system is.

The next part of my analysis will be to compare these four players using the Win Shares system. Despite my endorsement of Win Shares as the ultimate player evaluation method, there still are several ways to use the system to compare players. I'm not just going to state that Tony Perez earned 349 career Win Shares to Keith Hernandez's 311, Steve Garvey's 279, and Don Mattingly's 263, and, therefore, Perez is the best, Hernandez the second best, etc. I'll compare them using a few Win Share rate statistics as well, although their cumulative Win Shares certainly will be taken into consideration as a major factor.

For more information on the Win Shares system, you'll have to locate a copy of Bill James' book, Win Shares. Unfortunately, it's already out of print, so you'll have to look for it at your public library or try to find a used copy on the Web. Pete Palmer's Linear Weights System is explained in detail in Total Baseball: The Official Encyclopedia of Major League Baseball. Other statistics, such as OPS, on-base percentage (OBP), and slugging percentage (SLG), are explained in detail in the Batting Stats Glossary at Baseball-Reference.com.