Hall Call: My memories of Big Hurt, Maddux, Cox, La Russa and Torre

^

A year ago, here's who was inducted in the Baseball Hall of Fame: early 20th century umpire Hank O'Day, 19th century ballplayer Deacon White and Jacob Ruppert, who owned the Yankees from 1915-39.

Yep, it was quite a day filled with baseball memories for all those whose average age was deceased.

The 2014 class more than made up for it, thank goodness.

What a group: Greg Maddux, Tom Glavine, Frank Thomas, Joe Torre, Tony La Russa and Bobby Cox. 

I had pretty good conversations over the years with five of the six - all but Glavine, who rarely pitched in games I covered.

Here are my impressions and memories of baseball's newest Hall of Famers ...

FRANK THOMAS

When I was a 30-something sportswriter in Minnesota, I remember watching The Big Hurt put a big hurtin' on the Twinkies, turning to the guy in the press box next to me and saying: "Frank Thomas might be the best hitter I've ever seen."

I had that thought many other times over the next several years. I'm pretty old, but not quite old enough to have seen the likes of Hank Aaron, Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle in their primes. And I wasn't even born when many of the greats of the game were long retired. So Thomas looked pretty damn good to me.

If you think I'm exaggerating, here was The Big Hurt's stat line his first 10 full seasons in the big leagues (1991-2000): .320 BA, 1.020 OPS, 34 HR per year, 115 RBI per year. He won two MVPs and finished in the top three 3 more times. What a stud.

He got old and injuries started biting him, but he still had some great seasons. When he was 38 with Oakland and 39 with Toronto, he totaled 65 HR and 209 RBI.

I also will remember Thomas as a sensitive guy who sometimes claimed he didn't care what others thought but who obviously cared very much about how he was perceived. So it wasn't surprising that he had to fight back tears during his induction speech.

Big Frank was a me-first guy, as many superstars are, and could be quite a whiner and excuse-maker. But he mellowed as he grew older. I remember how outwardly happy he was in the clubhouse when the White Sox won the 2005 World Series. Still, I could tell he was disappointed that an injury prevented him from really being part of that team.

Thomas also was a central figure in one of my favorite Karma's A Bitch incidents:

The Sox won the division in 2000 but got off to a poor start in 2001. Making matters worse, Thomas got hurt in early May. Tub of goo pitcher David Wells, who was brought in to give the team "an edge," opined on his radio show that Thomas was a baby who refused to play with pain. When Thomas ultimately was diagnosed with a torn triceps that required season-ending surgery, Wells refused to apologize. Fittingly, the corpulent Wells sustained a back injury that ruined his season. I guess the big baby couldn't pitch with pain.

GREG MADDUX

As instant replay gets used more and more frequently, occasionally somebody brings up the possibility that cameras and computers might one day replace the home-plate umpire. The next Greg Maddux had better hope that never happens.

Maddux lived just outside the strike zone. Because he had such pinpoint control, he was given calls that few other pitchers got. He was smart enough to take advantage of it, working that outside corner for all it was worth.

And it was worth a lot, including 355 wins and 3,371 strikeouts. 

The myth is that Maddux was a lobber for the entirety of his career, making those 3,000-plus K's even more incredible. The fact is that for more than half of his career, Maddux could pop the catcher's mitt pretty darn good - I'm talking 92, 93 mph with regularity. His control and speed changes made his fastball seem ever faster, too.

Maddux made the majors in 1986, one year after I became a full-time sportswriter. However, I was only an observer from afar until the Cubs brought him back in 2004.

Fanfare? Hype? Please! Those words don't come close to the all-out giddiness Cubbieland was going through when the team added Maddux to a pitching staff that carried the team to the NLCS the previous year. Sports Illustrated put 'em on the cover and predicted an end to the 95-year championship drought.

The question wasn't if the Cubs would have the best starting rotation in baseball. It was: Where does this staff rank in the history of baseball? Heck, some even argued that the Cubs had the best-hitting and best-fielding rotation of all time. What? Not the best-looking, too?

After the Cubs signed Maddux, I wrote that it obviously was a great move but it guaranteed nothing because they still had shortcomings at catcher, shortstop, in the bullpen and at the top of the order. Wow ... did I get a lot of angry email over that one - including one from the managing editor of the newspaper we owned in Peoria. He wanted to know why I couldn't be more "positive."

My response was that I was positive ... that the Cubs were still the Cubs, and no living person had ever lost a dime betting against the Cubs winning a championship.

The Cubs didn't have the kind of postseason choke job that they had the previous year ... because they choked down the stretch in 2004 and missed the playoffs entirely. The Cubs lost 7 of 8, and Maddux was rocked in his start during that span.

Over the next few years, I interviewed Maddux many times. He was bright and had a very dry wit, but he was extremely guarded around most of the media. I often would finish a 10-minute interview and think I had something interesting to write, only to listen to the recording and realize he had said mostly 10 minutes of nothing.

Having said all of that, Maddux was an amazing pitcher for most of his 23 years and casting a Hall of Fame vote for him was an absolute no-brainer.

Finally, something positive!

TONY LA RUSSA

I never particularly liked La Russa. He is buddies with Bobby Knight, Bill Parcells and others in the Bully Your Way To Success Club. It pained me to watch the talented and dedicated St. Louis press corps have to tiptoe around him, carefully asking questions lest they tick off King Tony.

The man could manage a ballclub, though. He sometimes tried to reinvent the wheel - as when he insisted upon batting the pitcher eighth for about a year and a half - but he usually had fantastic instincts. He definitely commanded respect from his players, including those who didn't particularly care for him.

I was several years from arriving in Chicago when he was a young White Sox manager and I rarely crossed paths with him during his time in Oakland, but I covered a lot of Cardinals games with him at the helm, including numerous dust-ups with the Cubs when the Cubbies actually were contenders.

He never backed down, trading barbs with Dusty Baker and even with Lou Piniella, whom he considered a friend.

Sadly, he turned a blind eye to the rampant steroid use that took place right under his nose in Oakland and he got in the face of anybody who dared mention that Mark McGwire was juicing. McGwire lied to La Russa's repeatedly and totally hung his manager out to dry - truly one of the worst parts of McGwire's stained legacy.

La Russa could hold a grudge with the best of them, so it was interesting and admirable that he hired McGwire as his hitting coach near the end of La Russa's run in St. Louis.

BOBBY COX

I used to like when the Braves would come to Wrigley Field and I had the opportunity to sit near Cox in the visitor's dugout a couple hours before the game. He would talk baseball with anybody who happened by, and I always felt like I learned something.

Otherwise, I didn't know him very well, but I am glad he won a World Series and I am surprised he didn't win more than one. 

In his Hall of Fame induction speech, he looked at Maddux, Glavine and John Smoltz - who was in Cooperstown as a TV commentator and who should join that Braves trio in the Hall next year - and said: "I can honestly say I would not be standing here if it weren't for you guys." 

That's true, of course, but it also demonstrated the humility that many say characterize Cox.

JOE TORRE

Including spring training and the inevitable postseason run, Joe Torre sat down 200-plus times per year with the massive New York media mob. Every time, he had something to give. 

An astute observation. An explanation of strategy. A diffusing of a touchy situation. A level-headed remark despite the furor swirling around him.

As much as Torre won with the Yankees, I'm sure many folks - especially younger fans - might not realize how much losing he did in his first 14 years as a manager with the Mets, Braves and Cardinals. Some criticized George Steinbrenner for hiring a thrice-fired "retread" to manage the Yankees. It turned out to be perhaps the best baseball decision the bombastic owner ever made.

Torre knew baseball plenty well, but what he really knew was how to deal with people. In that way, he was baseball's Phil Jackson - as much psychologist as strategist. Rarely has a manager or coach fit his team's personality better than Torre did the Yankees' of 1996-2007.

My favorite memory of Torre is this one:

On Sept. 11, 2001, the White Sox were in New York, where they were supposed to play the Yankees that night. The game obviously was never played and many White Sox were shaken up by being so close to the tragedy. When baseball resumed its season a week later - this time with the Yankees visiting Chicago - Sox manager Jerry Manuel sounded absolutely despondent. He wondered out loud if baseball even mattered anymore. I wanted to hug him.

Then I walked over to the other dugout to hear Torre, who recently had survived prostate cancer and whose brother had made it through a heart transplant.

"One thing I learned a few years ago is to enjoy things more. Don't worry about life. Let's live it right now, folks, take it as it comes and deal with it.

"Our lives have been changed forever, things we have taken for granted, things that happen on foreign soil that we say, 'How lucky we are that those things don't happen here.' Well, they can happen here. I told my team, 'We really don't know how to deal with this because we've never had to before.'"

He was asked what if baseball is interrupted again by another terrorist attack or even by World War III.

"I can't worry about what's behind the door. That's no way to live. That's like sitting around waiting for an earthquake. You simply can't allow that to happen. That would only add to the tragedy.

"We've been through so much. I think we're ready for baseball."

How good is this guy? If I were a ballplayer these last three decades and could choose my manager, I would have chosen Joe Torre, a Hall of Famer in ever sense of the word.

^

Hall Call: Maddux (duh!), but not Jacque Jones (double-duh!)

^
I thought I would struggle greatly when filling out my Hall of Fame ballot this year, but it turned out to be a lot easier than I thought.

First, I put check marks next to the four guys I voted for a year ago: 

CRAIG BIGGIO ... JACK MORRIS ... TIM RAINES ... CURT SCHILLING

Biggio is a no-brainer, a veritable stats machine during his playing days. He barely missed last year when he was done in by a combination of those who never vote for first-ballot guys and by anti-steroid protesters who refused to vote for anybody. I'm guessing he gets in fairly easily this time, as he should.

Morris is making his final ballot appearance and it'll be close -- he received 67.7% of the vote last year (75% is required). I know his ERA is a little too high for some and his victory total is a little too low. Still, his status as a workhorse during an era in which both baseballs and bodies were juiced, and his postseason performances (especially for the 1991 Twins), put him over the top for me.

Raines simply is one of the best leadoff men ever, a dynamic game-changer for most of his 23 seasons. Every eligible player with an OBP as high as Raines who reached base as often as he did is in the Hall. Plus, he's the second-most successful base thief ever.

Schilling, like Morris, is a borderline pick and I can understand why he didn't get more votes last year, his first on the ballot: low-ish win total, a less-than-spectacular ERA. Nevertheless, he did have fine regular-season numbers (3,116 K, the second-best K-to-BB ratio in history), and I can't deny his postseason numbers: 11-2 with a 2.23 ERA, including 4-0 and 1.37 in five elimination games. I love clutch.

+++

Next, I voted for two guys I passed on last year (with the promise that I would revisit their candidacies in the future):

JEFF BAGWELL ... MIKE PIAZZA

Bagwell, despite playing most of his career in the pitcher-friendly Astrodome, ranks in the top 40 all-time in slugging, HR, OBP and walks, and he teamed with Biggio to turn the once-horrible Astros into annual contenders. In giving Bagwell my vote this time, I have been influenced by proponents of JAWS, a wins-above-replacement metric that compares a player to others historically at his position. Bagwell's JAWS score ranks second only to that of Albert Pujols among post-World War II first basemen. Plus, he's now been on the ballot for four years and nobody has been able to amplify any of the steroid whispers. 

Piazza, arguably the best offensive catcher in history, belongs in the Hall of Fame. Because he made his debut on the ballot last year alongside so many infamous juicers, I wanted to give it another year to see if anything came of the long-stated rumors about Piazza's use. Nothing did, so it's an easy choice.

+++

Then, I went with three first-year candidates, each of whom I consider a slam-dunk selection (though I'm sure others would disagree, as others always do!):

TOM GLAVINE ... GREG MADDUX ... FRANK THOMAS

Glavine won 305 games, had five 20-win seasons, won two Cy Youngs and was a stalwart for the Braves teams that ruled the NL in the 1990s. He also was 1995 World Series MVP (2-0, 1.29). Despite all of that, he might not get in immediately because of Maddux's presence on the ballot, which would be ridiculous.

Maddux, well, you know ... I'm not even going to bother throwing any stats out there. If he doesn't get in, it's time to take the vote away from me and my peers.

Thomas had a .301 career average, 521 HR, 1,704 RBI, .419 OBP, .555 SLG, back-to-back MVPs, 11 seasons with 100+ RBI. Nevertheless, some say he's not a Hall of Famer. Please. Even if voters want to use his DH status against him, he had monster stats from 1992-97 as the White Sox's first baseman. How can there even be a debate? 

+++

Finally, it got a little more difficult. Should I stop at nine? Or should I add one more to reach the maximum votes we can cast? I've been a Hall voter since the mid-'90s, and only once, when I was much younger and less selective, did I opt for the maximum. Would voting for 10 now somehow make me an easy mark?

If I did go with 10, would I check the box next to the name of "accidental" juicer Barry Bonds or longtime suspect Roger Clemens? How about squeaky-clean first-time candidate Mike Mussina?

One could argue quite convincingly that Bonds and Clemens already were Hall of Famers before their alleged cheating began. And while circumstantial evidence is strong in Clemens' case, he actually was exonerated in a court of law. I very well might vote for one or both as early as next year. But for now, I decided to hold off to see if any new information gets presented in the next 12 months. 

Mussina? Now there's an interesting one.

The very first thing I do when perusing my Hall ballot every year is the "feel test." Does this guy "feel" like a Hall of Famer? And I must admit that, at first blush, Mussina didn't. His numbers are very good (270-153, 3.68 ERA, 2,813 K), but not one of them screams: "I'm a Hall of Famer!" He had only one 20-win season (his last, at age 39), he never won a Cy Young and he never won a title. 

Then again ...

In many key sabermetrics, Mussina compares quite favorably to Glavine and comes out well ahead of Morris. He also had more wins, a lower ERA, more strikeouts and fewer walks than Morris. The more I delved into the numbers, the more I felt guilty about the prospect of voting for Morris but not for Mussina.

Then there's this: I didn't want to contribute to Mussina getting knocked off the ballot for good. If a candidate doesn't get 5% of the vote in any year, he no longer can be considered in the future. Given that it often takes years for voters to warm up to certain candidates -- Bert Blyleven was named on only 17.5% of the ballots his first year but finally made it in his 14th try -- I didn't want Mussina to go away forever. 

So, MIKE MUSSINA, welcome to my Hall of Fame "team."

+++

Every year, there are a few guys on the ballot that make you say, "Really?" This time, that list includes Amando Benitez, Paul Lo Duca, Mike Timlin and ... wait for it ... Jacque Jones.

That's right: Jacque Jones, a real good guy with a real bad arm. 

In three decades covering baseball, I've never seen a worst outfield arm. More times than not, the poor guy would throw the ball almost straight down into the ground. It was the damnedest thing I ever saw. 

Although his offensive numbers weren't anywhere near Hall-worthy -- .270, 165 HR, 630 RBI -- they actually were better than I thought because I mostly remembered him striking out repeatedly.

I liked Jacque as a person, though, and maybe enough members of the Hall ballot selection committee did, too.

That's the only explanation I can come up with for him being listed at all.

If he gets even one Hall vote, it's time to drug-test BBWAA members!

^

13 sharp baseball observations

^

During a Southwest Airlines flight to Seattle this week, my daughter Katie inadvertently brought a large pair of scissors in her carry-on bag. The fine TSA folks operating the x-ray gear didn't detect the sharp implement. Obviously, though, Katie isn't a terrorist. I mean, it's not as if she tried to sneak a 4-ounce bottle of shampoo on the plane!

While contemplating all of that, I'll fire off a baker's dozen thoughts about baseball at the break ...

1. Smart GMs of losing teams will do what Kenny Williams did last year (in acquiring Alex Rios) and add talented players for future seasons. It's one thing to throw away one bad season; why let it ruin an entire decade?

2. Aramis Ramirez, Faux Mr. Clutch, is at it again. Now that his Cubs are hopelessly out of the race - and with him having the right to opt out of his contract at season's end - he finally is hitting the way a cleanup hitter making monster money should. He did the same thing in 2006, getting hot just in time to get himself a huge new deal but not in time to keep Dusty Baker from getting fired.

3. It will be interesting to see which NL Central frontrunner, Cincinnati or St. Louis, will overcome major bullpen issues to take the division. Reds GM Walt Jocketty would love nothing more than to add a couple of the same quality arms the Cards no doubt want. Jocketty was great at making deadline deals before he was run out of St. Louis. Meanwhile, in the always-entertaining game within the games, it's Dusty vs. Tony - just as it was in '03 (with Dusty prevailing) and '04 (with Tony dominating).

4. The most overrated player in baseball in the season's first half: Joe Mauer in a landslide. The Twins can't afford to have their highest-paid player ever hit like Brian Harper.

5. If they can get reasonably healthy by mid-August and if they can hang close in the race, the Phillies will win the NL East again.

6. "This time it counts"? Yeah, but not in the ratings. Sorry, Bud, it's still an exhibition game. That's what happens when nearly 10 percent of the league's players are deemed All-Stars. It's pro sports. Everybody doesn't need to win a trophy.

7. The Padres authored the best story of the first half and I gotta admit that I'm rooting for them to hold on. It's pretty cool that even as management tries like hell to lose, the players just won't let it happen.

8. The Pirates should have to move out of PNC Park until they have a winning season. No team that bad should get to play in such a cool ballpark.

9. Ditto for the Orioles regarding Camden Yards.

10. Is it still Milton Bradley's fault that the Cubs suck?

11. Fear the Rockies.

12. Stephen Strasburg is the most-hyped 6-inning pitcher ever. Or at least since Greg Maddux returned to the Cubs in 2004. (And speaking of hyped, remember when Maddux was going to help teach Cra-Z Zambrano how to be more professional?)

13. Predicted playoff teams: Yankees, White Sox, Rangers, Rays (wild card), Phillies, Cardinals, Rockies, Dodgers (wild card). One more prediction: This is Lou Piniella's last season in Cubbieland but Jim Hendry will be around for one more try in 2011. For better or worse on both accounts.

Cubs No. 31: Right Number, Wrong Call

^

Here are Pitcher X's numbers:

++10 seasons.

++Average of 13 victories per year with .543 winning percentage.

++3.61 ERA.

++One Cy Young Award, 2 All-Star Game appearances.

++One 20-win season.

++Zero seasons of 200 or more strikeouts.

++Zero seasons of 270 of more innings pitched.

++One postseason appearance, going 0-1 with a 13.50 ERA in two starts as his team lost series.

If one is in a generous mood, one would call those results "good." Nothing more, possibly less.

And certainly not worthy of having one's number retired!

Well, congratulations to Pitcher X, a.k.a. Greg Maddux. 

He is going to be celebrated Sunday at Wrigley Field because ... um ... why?

Because the only categories in which he ranked in the Cubs' top 10 all-time were losses, home runs allowed, games started and strikeouts?

No, because he happened to have worn No. 31, that's why.

It's the same No. 31 that was worn by Fergie Jenkins, a true Cubs great whose number should have been retired before Maddux ever threw his first big-league pitch.

What Jenkins did in a Chicago uniform was so superior, Maddux almost should be embarrassed to share the spotlight Sunday. (But really, he has nothing to be embarrassed about because this was the Cubs' call and not his.)

Here are Fergie's facts and figures:

++10 seasons.

++Average of 17 victories per year with .559 winning percentage.

++3.20 ERA.

++One Cy Young Award (and 3 other top-three finishes), 3 All-Star Game appearances.

++Six straight 20-win seasons.

++Four straight seasons of 260 or more strikeouts.

++Seven straight seasons of 271 or more innings pitched, including four straight of 308 or more.

Wow!

And don't forget that while Jenkins was sent packing by the Cubs in 1974, Maddux left on his own accord after the 1992 season. Yes, the Cubs were cheap and stupid. No, I don't blame Maddux for bolting. But it was his decision to go to Atlanta and become an ex-Cub.

Then, when Maddux returned to the North Side in 2004 to join The Greatest Rotation Ever Assembled By Man Or Beast, he proceeded to go 38-37 over the next three seasons with a 4.26 ERA while never helping the Cubs reach the postseason.

Please, the point here isn't to denigrate Maddux. It's to wonder why the Cubs feel the need to include him in the long-overdue ceremony to retire Jenkins' number.

A cynic might suggest that there are racial overtones to the whole thing, given that Maddux is a popular white guy and Jenkins is a black man who was busted for cocaine possession in 1980.

Sorry, but even I'm not that cynical. I choose to give the Cubs the benefit of the doubt and say race wasn't part of the equation. I simply am convinced that the Cubs want to please as many people as possible. I also believe the Cubs still feel guilty about letting Maddux get away to spend the best part of his career in Atlanta.

There's nothing wrong with those reasons from a marketing standpoint, I suppose, but they're hardly reasons to honor a pitcher who ranks 13th on the team's all-time wins list. In their long, inglorious history, the Cubs have honored only four players by retiring their numbers, and now they're going to do so for a pitcher who ranks 30th on their all-time ERA list?

On his Hall of Fame bust, Jenkins' Cubs hat is proudly displayed. Maddux? His Cooperstown bust will be topped by Atlanta's "A." Let the Braves retire No. 31. (In fact, they will in July.)

Yes, a lot of Cubbie fans think Maddux is "classy." OK, so should the team retire the number of every good guy who also was a good ballplayer? Come on down, Shawon Dunston!

Yes, a lot of Cubbie fans from the Harry Caray Era - when the team became a phenomenon and when going to Wrigley became an event - adored Maddux. OK, so should the team retire the number of every fan favorite? Hello, Mickey Morandini!

Frankly, there are a few players not named Maddux that the Cubs could honor with number-retirement ceremonies. 

One could make a darned good argument for Mark Grace, who ranks in the team's all-time top 10 in games, at-bats, runs, hits, total bases, doubles, extra-base hits, RBIs and walks. He also was very popular with fans for more than a decade. It's borderline criminal that the list of those who have gone on to wear Grace's No. 17 includes Bobby Hill, Calvin Murray, Adam Greenberg, John Mabry and Felix Pie. I mean, compared to those nobodies, the latest No. 17, Mike Fontenot, is Hall of Fame material.

(Hey, maybe the Cubs are waiting to retire No. 17 until they can honor both Grace and Fontenot!)

Based on statistics and impact alone, Sammy Sosa is a no-brainer. The stains of steroids, bat-corking, selfishness and petulance make retiring his number tough to justify. Somehow, he deserves having No. 21 worn by wacky Milton Bradley.

How about Kerry Wood? Classy. Charitable. A leader. Loyal. One of the most exciting pitchers of his time. A guy who repeatedly overcame adversity and almost singlehandedly carried the team to its only postseason-series victory of the last century. His proponents could point to his strikeouts and his successful shift to closer - not to mention his four postseason appearances, a figure unheard of in modern-day Cubbieland.

Still, given his history of injuries and his unimpressive victory total, retiring Wood's No. 34 would be a stretch, right?

Well, sure. But he still is every bit as deserving as Greg Maddux.